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#children aren't their parents she knows it and yet there's still that small heartache
randomnameless · 1 month
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Hello! I hope that you are doing well!
I just wanted to send you a question regarding the amount of power Rhea has in Fódlan since something came to my mind. You know how during Edelgard's coronation, she said to her father that, "The Archbishop of the Church of Seiros would normally act as witness, but my professor will fill that role instead"?
Unless I missed something [or am overthinking], do you believe that Rhea was even there to witness Ionius' coronation?
We were told in the game that it had been ages since a member of House Hresvelg enrolled into the Officers Academy as well as that there had recently been a rift between the Adrestian Empire and the Church of Seiros.
Therefore, to me at least, that implied that said rift had been going on for a while. And I do not see why they would allow her there if such a thing was going on. Yet, Rhea does not retaliate against this as far as I know. Then there is the fact that Edelgard is allowed to be coronated without Byleth's presence. The Southern Church was dismantled, too, so…I think it is safe to say that there was not an official to witness her from there as well. lol
To put it simply, it feels very contradictory to me and adds a crack into the "Rhea controls Fódlan" perspective.
Hi!
I agree, that NPC going all "the empire and hthe church cut ties eons agao that's why supreme leader is the first imperial heir to attend since ages" suggests Rhea wasn't very welcomed in Enbarr.
FWIW the Nopes book about the Southern Church incident reveals the Emperor of that time already wanted to cut ties with the Central Church - and used this rebellion (which was more or less a Varley daughter wanting to have a role instead of letting her bother inherit everything?) as an excuse to finally give them the boot.
In a nutshell, I heavily doubt Rhea was around when Ionius was coronated, if her Church was already "not welcomed" by the time the Southern Church was disbanded.
The Archbishop acting as witness might be just some sort of old ceremonial thing, just like the "covenant of the red blood and the white sword", maybe all coronations try to renact the "oath" Wilhelm took/swore to Seiros when she presumably made him Emperor of Adrestia? And the Archbishop acts as a stand in for Seiros (even if we know better!) when the oath is sworn again by Willy's descendants?
As you pointed out, the Archbishop being present or not is merely decorum, since nowhere the game suggests that in the non-CF routes, Supreme Leader's coup coronation isn't regular or anything.
Rhea controlling Fodlan isn't backed up by canon, Adrestia has been doing its own thing for several centuries, the CoS only provides help (the game doesn't tell us what it is!) to Faerghus : Dimitri becomes King not because Rhea crowns or splashes oil on him, but because he is the Crown Prince and the last heir of the previous King. As for the Alliance, it does its own thing without her input!
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ton-e · 4 years
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Helheim is a land of peace.
The layers of agonized wails and woeful imploring she prepared her ears for was lost in the breeze of the melancholic melody of nature. Naked humming voices flowed serenely amidst the gradient of indigo blue leaves, dry and wrinkly, singing the ballads of lost souls attached to skinny tree branches, rinsed of color at the roots, blending smoothly with the pale greenery surrounding the wide meadow that grew to be her most favored solace.
Flowers, prey to decaying, small in stature but mighty in resistance, veiled the piece of soil that parted the center of the dark Kingdom in two, catching vines in the heart core of the spot her beloved boy once clawed his way to freedom, from a grave that came too early for a boy too gentle, too youthful, too much of a man before his time.
Her ghost Prince, her youngest; Stolen and crowned the King of Death, with a rain of tears on his cheeks and a cloak of swords in his back.
'Crowned, ' she spits, imagining it rippling through the dead earth and fell right onto Borr's bald head. Time failed to sweeten her bitterness as she thought, yes, this is how their history beautified the terrible incident. Time didn't heal her pain, neither did it gentled the sharpness of her teeth.
They had deceived him, betrayed him, punished him, stole his life away, and called it a reward.
After that dreadful day, She spent more nights weeping to slumber, eyes buried in the cushions of Hel's frigid chambers, burning brighter, hotter, than the hard oak feeding red-orange flames in the fireplace of her bedroom.
The phantom ice caressing the silver of her skin was more comfort than suffering, painless mercy she sunk into little by little every day until the light of day became unfamiliar. The cold here shares that quality, she ponders, a soft touch of unburnt ice to keep you from perishing.
Its a lot like her son, she thinks.
Yet, Bestla doesn't feel its presence permanently. A long, stone shaded cloak fell upon her shoulders, showering her back in a misty warmth provided by the thick velvet of the garment. Her eyes observe a silhouette shadowing the pale sun, the single leak of blight light hanging above the smoke sky.
"I was hoping to find you here, " Estrid wears a smile radiant enough to pale all gold in the 9 realms. "Peaceful up here, is it not? Hel liked hiding here, as a boy. Said the breeze was nice."
Bestla, for a moment, allows her eye to inspect the other woman for the first time. Her shoulders are round and solid, strong as a soldier, complemented by the stunning danger of a shieldmaiden. Bestla tracks night-dark locks brushing over creamy skin, long and curly. She's as much warrior as she is woman, it's as if she only now observes.
Her arms are an impressive addition, boxy as much as lean, holding closely on her shield and sword. A sword that, doubtlessly, claimed a long string of lives. She's not as fearful as it would be wiser to be. Estrid has been nothing but pleasant, as much as one could be when encountering their circumstance, her presence never frightening her as much as it saddened her.
"For someone carrying such heavy armor, you move with great stealth, Lady Sigurdsson, " If the other woman peaked at the too feather-soft timber of her voice, she had enough cheek to act differently. " I suppose you'd want an explanation as to why I'm avoiding my son?"
" Forgive me, your Grace, but Lord Hellison was never included in the conversation, " Bestla thought she spotted a bloom of red dusting her cheeks as she grinned gently, taking a spot none to tight to the former Queen, but close enough to leave some space had the smaller woman want to fill it. "I thought you would, after..."
"...It's unwise to polish hard truths. They cut harder that way, " The Queen's words were dressed in both honesty and advice, chapters of her life unfolding beneath her eyes as if to pledge truth to the statement. Estrid studied each word with expert attention.
Bestla raises, arms guarding her middle, eyes cast over the sea of flowers beneath her shoes.
"I'm grateful, for the kindness you showed him. I remain in your debt, in fact, though it escapes me how I can repay you here. "
"We don't believe in paying kindness, in the North. Goodness isn't traded in gold, " a quiet chuckle is swept by the breeze slashing through the grand mountains. Estrid inhales deeply and opens her arms when she lets her body fall upon the grass. "If it was, don't you think more people would practice it?"
The southerner's lips lift in a one-sided smile of her own, private and discreet. Debtless favors certainly sounded sweet to the ear.
" Aesir aren't precisely renewed for our gentle hearts, so I suppose not. I still mourn the stress you must have endured, however. Children are far from being a jolly affair. And the tales we hear as children don't exactly portray Titans as loving parents."
A stratum of blank seriousness shaped Estrid's features, graveness resting heavily on sharp boned cheeks and warm brown eyes. " I fell in love a day after meeting him, " Bestla swallowed hard at the admission. " I knew him for less than a sundown, but I knew he was mine. I was dead, alone and helpless and afraid, and he was too much like me to be a fateless coincidence. Words aren't enough to express it. He was just...Meant to fall, and I to catch him. "
The leafs sang to fill the edged hush musking around them. Estrid pimped the other's empty breathing as anger, for she heaved a sigh long enough to match the twin lack of words on both their parts, and excused her nerve. " Apologies. I don't dare name myself a mother, nor do I starve for anyone's approval, least of all yours. I only wished to say you raised a good son. A son lucky to have a mother like you, for as long as he did."
"...You helped him," Bestla started, chest light and comfortable, not cutting blades piercing her skin as she expected. "Kept food in his mouth, put clothes on his back. You loved him truthfully and protected him fiercely. You're not any less his mother than I."
"...It must be a sour thin all the same, for someone so beloved to greet you as a stranger. For that, I can't help but feel sorry still."
" That's a sentiment we can share. He... Hel, my child, my youngest son. Born at the edge of two worlds that never loved him. They aren't my own, not my blood, not him neither Odin, my kind hearted prince, my little lion boy. And yet, I was not their mother for the simple reason they didnt come from me. Everyone told me so.
They weren't my own, yet I held them at my chest, kissed their skinned knees and elbows, wiped their tears, and chased sickness with handpicked herbs and wet rags because I trusted nobody to do so. No language is enough to describe the love a mother has for their children.
No tongue is enough to put my love in words."
"...Even for Balder?"
Bestla laughs, an odde of heartache and sorrow. " Even him. Love gives no choices, last of all to parents. I still remember the day of his birth. A terrible storm broke the skies that evening, set fire to five houses, left a month's worth of reparations behind. He struggled, I've been told. He kicked and wailed and fought all the way.
I haven't had the chance to even hold him in my arms and he was so eager to run from me. My eyes never saw something more perfect than his tiny ears, his adorable little hands, and feet, his honey hair. He looked so much like me I hardly believed it.
But I felt no different with his brothers. There was a sickness in my mouth, when they were babes and I was forced to be departed from them. I couldn't bear to see them in another's arms, a wet nurse, or a squire, when asked to trust anyone else with them, I was faithless.
When Hel was born, he couldn't be convinced to let me go. He was so quiet, I thought perhaps this world claimed him already. His mother drew her last breath on that bed and I was the one he clung to, the one he hooked his fingers into. One of the King's guards present, he tried to prey him away, do you want to know what I did? I unsheathed a dagger from my thigh, slashed his throat, and watched him die." The confession was a river she scalded into freely.
"Would I insult your intelligence by asking if you're familiar with Sandr?" Bestla asked once Estrid wordlessly raised on her feet. She felt enough security to push her body forward. " Titans held mighty battles there."
A smirk pinched the taller woman's lips. " We were rowdy children, I'll confess. But yes, I know the location. You rebuild beautifully, " dark eyes shaped the bronze scorpio pendant suspended in the middle of Bestla's long neck. " Your family picked a Scorpio as their sigil. They made a fine legacy."
" Oh, it was. The finest. Beautiful, skillful, and yet, terribly lonely. I had 10 siblings. 5 brothers and sisters, however, I confess I felt more like an accessory than a member of a clan. We were strangers to each other. Foreigners with the same name, with our only common factor being our house.
Our country was gorgeous but very poor, you see. We trusted nobody, and in return, our distrust was repaid with hostility. Eventually, when our skin touched bone and we ran out of livestock, we opened the gates to trade. Naturally, we were invaded, our lands stolen, our necks had shackles only we could see.
And I held the key for everyone.
I want you to picture the most powerful man in the world, asking me to marry him," a bitter laughs cracks in her throat, and the wind whips away the water from her eyes. " He had a crown on his head and 50 thousand banner men behind him, with more gold than he could ever need or deserve and 100,000 spikes for our heads alone. What else could I have said?"
Her legs shift, stepping closer to Estrid, eyes as flat as her tone. " What I did, I did because I had to. To defend my people. To defend my family. To defend my blood. Every sacrifice, every drop of blood I've spilled, I did it so the people I love could live the peace I never did."
She advances, every step that's forward to her is one back for Estrid, eyes concentrated intensely on one another with enough fire to make Fire Giants sweat.
"All the sins that I have done. Or had done at my orders? The truths my children don't know, the truths a narrow number of people lived to keep the secret. The kind vicious enough to make fine warriors as yourself lose sleep, if they came to know them.
Perhaps this is my justice. A punishment for survival in a world where living is no bed of roses. But I won't stop helping my children, heart beating or otherwise.
There's a storm coming, My Lady. And I have every intention of ensuring everyone walks dry."
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