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i_read_whatSo last time, Niall finally got to Atvia and found a hostile father-in-law, a broken brother, and a wife who has...some issues.
Please note the content warning.
So if you recall, the last chapter ended with Gisella conjuring some nice Ihlini flame. "Godfire" it's called. It's the signature move of the Ihlini and, if you think about it, a pretty strong indication that the Cheysuli and Ihlini races are related after all. Electra had some magic in her own right, but Gisella seems to be something else.
She's also got some issues.
Gisella’s eyes were fixed on me in an opaque, unwavering stare. Diamonds glittered. “Lillith said you would be mine.”
Gods…do they expect me to wed this girl? Do they really expect me to bed her?
That's a pretty good question. I don't think anyone anticipated Niall's intended to be basically raised Ihlini.
I both like this bit and dislike this bit:
Ian’s hand motioned for me to stay precisely where I was. Decisively; he was Ian again. And for the first time since Gisella’s attack, I looked at my brother instead of my cousin.
He stood rigidly before her, in three-quarter profile to me. He was intent only on Gisella, marking her posture, her position in relation to me, to the rest of the room, to him. Like me, he was unarmed, but I knew, looking at him, even lacking knife or bow he was as lethal as he was with them.
An odd juxtaposition. They were very like one another, Ian and Gisella, reflecting kinship as well as racial heritage. Again, it was I who was so different, Lirless I was even as Ian was, but still so very different.
So yeah, the only female character we know for a fact looks Cheysuli (jury's out on Isolde), is the one that has Ihlini magic and something clearly wrong with her. Great. Otherwise, I really do dig the obvious kinship between these two.
Ian tries to calm her down and there's an interesting element here that we haven't explored yet. Niall has spent the last few months in comfortable captivity in Erinn, Ian's spent his HERE. Ian knows Gisella in a way Niall hasn't. And, at least for now, he seems to be primarily sane:
“No,” he told her gently. “Loose no magic at him, or you will surely anger the gods.”
“Gods?” she whispered. “Gods?” Like a striking viper, her other hand shot out and clawed at his face. In its wake I saw the afterglow of flame slicing the air apart as easily as steel.
Ian caught her striking hand. The other he claimed as well. By the wrists he held her, nearly suspending her. She cried out angry curses I did not know, fearing them Atvian or, worse, Ihlini invective. Such curses could summon demons.
From rigid fingertips ran blood, raisin black. Or fire; I could not say. It ran down fingers to wrists and spilled onto Ian’s hands. Gisella laughed even as he cursed.
And just in case we missed the implicit colorism:
Gisella saw me. Her eyes, swollen black in the muted candlelight, shrank suddenly down to pinpricks. Yellow, so yellow, filled with the ferocity of a beast.
...I thought we were getting away from this. Why is NIALL, who is RAISED CHEYSULI commenting on "beast eyes"?!
Actually it's a clumsy transition, because Gisella chooses this moment to prove that she's her grandmother's granddaughter and becomes a mountain cat.
She struck out, clawing, ripping the air where Ian had been only a moment before. She was black, black as pitch, with tufted ears pinned against wedge-shaped head. Yellow eyes glared at us with a feral intensity.
I have seen housecats, enraged, huddle back as if in fear. And I have seen the subtle sideways twisting of their heads; heard the eerie wailing of their song; sensed the awesome magnificence of their rage. In Gisella, that rage was manifested as clearly as was her madness.
So she's going after Ian, who is moving out of the way "with a grace and fluency of motion echoing that of the cat herself". And for all that this is a terrifying circumstance, it must be noted that the adrenaline is doing him good. Gisella had said something about Lillith keeping him from lir-madness. That seems to be true. We saw how Duncan was, after all.
Niall realizes that he can slay Gisella here and now, but what about the prophecy?
But to do that would end the prophecy before its final fulfillment.
One man of all blood shall unite, in peace, four warring realms and two magic races.
But how does a man get children on a woman such as Gisella?
I mean, what about the prophecy. Yes, four warring realms and two magic races. But here's the thing about incest. You and Gisella have almost the same blood already! You've got Donal's blood. She's got Bronwyn's. Same mother and father for each. The only blood that Gisella has that Niall doesn't is Atvian.
DEIRDRE's mother is Atvian. AND Deirdre is Erinnish. Another bit of blood needed for the prophecy.
Gisella's only advantage over Deirdre is her incestuous Cheysuli blood, and that's only because Niall is self-conscious about his lack. But I feel like if he's THAT worried, he can always convince his kids to marry Cheysuli. Bob's your uncle.
But Niall isn't forced to make this call, as Alaric appears.
Almost instantly, she was back in human form. She twisted hands in heavy skirts, backing away even as her father advanced. “No,” she said, “no. Please? No.” The yellow eyes, once so filled with a virulent anger, now reflected the fear of a disobedient child discovered. “It is so hard not to—”
Alaric caught slender shoulders in slender hands. Gisella’s hands splayed across her cheeks as she tried to look away from his angry face. “Again,” he said curtly, “again. Will you never learn, Gisella? There are reasons for what I forbid.”
“I will learn,” she promised, “I will. But—sometimes I have to do it!”
“Even against your father’s wishes?”
She threw back her head and laughed. Laughed. And then she wrenched out of his hands and faced him as defiantly as she had faced us. “You are only angry because you cannot shapechange! Oh, no. Not you! Not even Lillith can.” Throwing out her arms, Gisella let her head fall back against her spine. She spun in place. How she spun, my poor, mad cousin. “I can,” she sang, “I can…and nobody else can do it!” Spinning, spinning, she crossed the floor. Gold and diamonds spun with her, all aglow in the candlelight. And then she stopped short, so short; so close to Ian her skirts tangled on his boot tops. “Not even you can,” she told him cruelly. “Not since Lillith took your lir.”
...honestly dude, is she even capable of consent? I think there's a legitimate question here.
Niall points out, unnecessarily at this point, that Gisella is mad. Like medically speaking, mad. Alaric agrees. But he'll marry her anyway.
“Wed me!” his daughter cried. “Niall is to wed me!” She left Ian behind and came at once to me, locking hands into the fabric of my doublet. “They have told me I must wed you and be Queen of Homana. Will you make me Queen of Homana?”
Gods. One day I would.
You really don't have to.
A lot of the Gisella plot sits uncomfortably with me. I am not educated enough in mental health issues to be a good judge of the ableism here. But it's definitely uncomfortable.
Gisella isn't, I think, a bad person necessarily. She's very self-centered, casually cruel, but I think a lot of that can be attributed to her upbringing. There does seem to be a serious lack of comprehension though.
Niall is inclined to back out of the deal. As he probably should.
I peeled Gisella away and set her aside, confronting Alaric squarely. “There will be none,” I said briefly. “By the gods, you fool, why were we never told? Why was this travesty allowed to continue? Do you think I wish to wed that?”
“Does it matter?” he asked. “You will. Because your prophecy demands it.” Even as I started to speak he silenced me with a gesture. “Turn your back on my daughter, child of the prophecy, and you twist that prophecy. Perhaps even end it precipitately.” He smiled. “In addition, your father will discover me on his doorstep. Armed. With at least five thousand men-at-arms. Is that what you wish to see?”
Alaric has already made it clear that he doesn't put any stock in marriage alliances. Gisella's ability to consent to anything is in clear question. The prophecy would work JUST as well, if not better, with a different, willing princess. Alaric's got no leverage.
Except:
Alaric’s brows rose. “The truce already broken? Ah well, I have other plans. I doubt Liam would be so willing to levy war against Atvia when all of his kin are slain…including his wanton sister.” He smiled. “I thought that might get your attention.”
“You do have an informant in Kilore—”
“Informants,” he corrected. “Assassins, more like. A word from me—or a beacon fire on the cliff—and the royal Erinnish eagles are dashed to the rocks below.” Alaric smiled. “I might even have it done tonight.”
Okay. That's leverage. Niall asks a logical question: why hasn't Alaric already done it. Alaric's been given advice, by Lillith.
And here some questions are answered:
“Lillith?” I demanded. “Aye, patient! And what else is she, my lord?”
“My mother,” Gisella said promptly. Almost instantly a hand flew to cover her mouth; she looked at her father fearfully. “But—that is not really true…is it? You told me—”
“I told you the truth,” Alaric answered evenly. “Bronwyn bore you, Lillith raised you.” He smiled. “How else could you combine Ihlini illusion with the Cheysuli shapechange?”
“Illusion,” I said, startled. “None of it was real?”
Gisella thrust out a hand. Fingers snapped open. Even Alaric squinted in the glare of the blinding flame. “Real,” she said flatly. “Real!”
“Real,” he agreed patiently. “Of course it is, Gisella.” He looked at my brother and smiled. “Lillith wants you, Ian. Had you not better go?”
Before my eyes I saw my brother diminished. He said nothing; indicated nothing by posture or movement, but he could not hide the revulsion in his eyes.
For himself. Not for Lillith.
“Rujho—” I began.
Ian did not even look at me. He walked past me and out of the room.
So Gisella isn't really doing Ihlini magic, per se. Just illusion. Pretty fucking convincing illusion.
And Ian...well, Gisella already told us what's going on there. Alaric doesn't seem to mind. In fact, he's amused to see a Cheysuli humbled.
“What does she want with him?” I ignored the implications in Alaric’s game of pearls and men. “What does she do to him?”
Alaric, shrugging, smiled. “Some men keep hounds, some women cats. Lillith keeps men.”
“You?” I thought it an odd arrangement: light woman to a king, yet collector of other men.
Alaric’s eyes glinted. “She came to Atvia twenty years ago from Solinde. She had grown bored, she said, with her young half-brother’s machinations; she wished to try her own. I saw her. I wanted her. And when I learned precisely what she was, I gave in gracefully.” His smile grew. “She said she always wanted a tame Cheysuli.”
Niall is nineteen. He was already born when Bronwyn was sent to Atvia. This means when Donal sent his sister away, he'd sent her ALONE to a viper's pit where her enemy was already in waiting.
Fuck you, Donal.
But of course, Donal's not the one suffering for his assholishness. That was Bronwyn. And Ian. And I bet you, the fact that Ian looks so much like his father probably just makes this more fun.
Alaric reminds Niall there's a feast in his honor and departs. Seriously dude. Get out of there. Take your brother with you.
So now, Niall is alone with Gisella.
Arms outstretched, she began to spin in place. “Did Lillith not make me pretty?”
I shut my eyes. Oh gods—
“Niall!”
Oh gods—
“Ni-allll!”
“Pretty,” I mumbled. “Aye.”
“But you are not looking at me!” Hands were suddenly on my face, peeling my eyelids back. “How can you see me when your eyes are closed?”
I caught her wrists and threw her hands away from me. I rose even as she protested. “Bronwyn’s daughter, are you? By all the gods of Homana, girl, how could you turn out like this? Because of Lillith? Because of Alaric? Because you know no better?”
She tried to twist free of my grasp, but I held her too tightly. Still, I could not help thinking of how she had reacted to Ian’s touch; how she had assumed the shape of a mountain cat as if to mock his loss of Tasha.
Hey, less of the violence, dude. She's still a woman. And mentally ill. And in a talkative mood. So much so, that Niall finally gets the full story of what happened to Bronwyn.
Basically, the main reason Gisella isn't allowed to shapeshift, supposedly, is because of what happened to Bronwyn:
“She died.” Bronwyn’s daughter rubbed sore wrists and glared at me from beneath lowered brows. “She shapechanged, and she died.”
“Shapechanged! Why? And how did she die?” Suspicion flared more brightly. “Was it Lillith?”
“No. My father.” Gisella shrugged. “He did not mean it. He told me he did not mean it. Because he had no wish to slay me.”
“Gisella!” I caught her upper arms. “Tell me how she died!”
“He shot her!” she cried. “With an arrow! He thought she was a raven!”
“A raven?”
“In Atvia they mean death,” she told me. “Ravens are death-omens.” She shrugged. “Everybody shoots them.”
So yeah, Bronwyn was pregnant. She tried to escape by turning into a raven. Atvians are superstitious about ravens, and Alaric shot her. Gisella was born that day. Poor little girl never really had a chance.
I looked into her eyes and saw no pain, no grief. Only a calm matter-of-factness; only the innocence of a child repeating what she has been told. What Alaric meant his daughter never to tell.
“Gisella,” I said gently, “I am sorry.”
Her smooth brow creased. “Do you think it hurt?” she asked. “The fall? I cannot remember any pain.”
“No pain,” I said, “not now.” I let go of her arms. But Gisella moved in against me, like a child seeking comfort, so I enfolded her in my arms and gave the child the comfort she craved. “No pain ever again.”
...that said, Gisella isn't innocent anymore. She grabs his face and something happens:
She said you would be mine—”
—and I was falling, falling, even as I stood there; even as I tried to speak and could not; tried to reach out; tried to wrench away; tried to break free of the woman who held me trapped within her hands.
Something is in me, something in me—something—
—something indefinable—something reaching into my mind, my soul, my self—
—until there was nothing left—
—nothing left—
—of Niall at all.
“Niall,” she whispered, “we have to go to bed.”
And the chapter ends, ominously, here.
The horror continues. It's pretty effective. I'm not sure we can call Gisella a villain, per se. Because it's not really clear how much she understands about any of this. She is powerful though, and dangerous.
And the only female character to explicitly look Cheysuli. Which is a problem, and something I intend to remind us of every chapter. Because that is not good, Roberson.
And now we see Bronwyn's fate. Poor thing. All of fifteen or sixteen years old. She was younger than Aislinn, remember. And pregnant. And shot down in cold blood by her husband. The story doesn't really make sense though. We have no reason to disbelieve the Atvian prejudice, but why on earth would Bronwyn choose a RAVEN?
First of all, she was there long enough to pick up on superstition if all ravens are shoot on sight. And even if she hadn't, what connection does she have to a raven anyway? A hawk makes sense. Her father had a hawk. Her mother became a hawk. But a raven? Why?
Aside from needless tragedy and a reason for Gisella's entire existence.
In the end, I still blame fucking Donal.
Please note the content warning.
So if you recall, the last chapter ended with Gisella conjuring some nice Ihlini flame. "Godfire" it's called. It's the signature move of the Ihlini and, if you think about it, a pretty strong indication that the Cheysuli and Ihlini races are related after all. Electra had some magic in her own right, but Gisella seems to be something else.
She's also got some issues.
Gisella’s eyes were fixed on me in an opaque, unwavering stare. Diamonds glittered. “Lillith said you would be mine.”
Gods…do they expect me to wed this girl? Do they really expect me to bed her?
That's a pretty good question. I don't think anyone anticipated Niall's intended to be basically raised Ihlini.
I both like this bit and dislike this bit:
Ian’s hand motioned for me to stay precisely where I was. Decisively; he was Ian again. And for the first time since Gisella’s attack, I looked at my brother instead of my cousin.
He stood rigidly before her, in three-quarter profile to me. He was intent only on Gisella, marking her posture, her position in relation to me, to the rest of the room, to him. Like me, he was unarmed, but I knew, looking at him, even lacking knife or bow he was as lethal as he was with them.
An odd juxtaposition. They were very like one another, Ian and Gisella, reflecting kinship as well as racial heritage. Again, it was I who was so different, Lirless I was even as Ian was, but still so very different.
So yeah, the only female character we know for a fact looks Cheysuli (jury's out on Isolde), is the one that has Ihlini magic and something clearly wrong with her. Great. Otherwise, I really do dig the obvious kinship between these two.
Ian tries to calm her down and there's an interesting element here that we haven't explored yet. Niall has spent the last few months in comfortable captivity in Erinn, Ian's spent his HERE. Ian knows Gisella in a way Niall hasn't. And, at least for now, he seems to be primarily sane:
“No,” he told her gently. “Loose no magic at him, or you will surely anger the gods.”
“Gods?” she whispered. “Gods?” Like a striking viper, her other hand shot out and clawed at his face. In its wake I saw the afterglow of flame slicing the air apart as easily as steel.
Ian caught her striking hand. The other he claimed as well. By the wrists he held her, nearly suspending her. She cried out angry curses I did not know, fearing them Atvian or, worse, Ihlini invective. Such curses could summon demons.
From rigid fingertips ran blood, raisin black. Or fire; I could not say. It ran down fingers to wrists and spilled onto Ian’s hands. Gisella laughed even as he cursed.
And just in case we missed the implicit colorism:
Gisella saw me. Her eyes, swollen black in the muted candlelight, shrank suddenly down to pinpricks. Yellow, so yellow, filled with the ferocity of a beast.
...I thought we were getting away from this. Why is NIALL, who is RAISED CHEYSULI commenting on "beast eyes"?!
Actually it's a clumsy transition, because Gisella chooses this moment to prove that she's her grandmother's granddaughter and becomes a mountain cat.
She struck out, clawing, ripping the air where Ian had been only a moment before. She was black, black as pitch, with tufted ears pinned against wedge-shaped head. Yellow eyes glared at us with a feral intensity.
I have seen housecats, enraged, huddle back as if in fear. And I have seen the subtle sideways twisting of their heads; heard the eerie wailing of their song; sensed the awesome magnificence of their rage. In Gisella, that rage was manifested as clearly as was her madness.
So she's going after Ian, who is moving out of the way "with a grace and fluency of motion echoing that of the cat herself". And for all that this is a terrifying circumstance, it must be noted that the adrenaline is doing him good. Gisella had said something about Lillith keeping him from lir-madness. That seems to be true. We saw how Duncan was, after all.
Niall realizes that he can slay Gisella here and now, but what about the prophecy?
But to do that would end the prophecy before its final fulfillment.
One man of all blood shall unite, in peace, four warring realms and two magic races.
But how does a man get children on a woman such as Gisella?
I mean, what about the prophecy. Yes, four warring realms and two magic races. But here's the thing about incest. You and Gisella have almost the same blood already! You've got Donal's blood. She's got Bronwyn's. Same mother and father for each. The only blood that Gisella has that Niall doesn't is Atvian.
DEIRDRE's mother is Atvian. AND Deirdre is Erinnish. Another bit of blood needed for the prophecy.
Gisella's only advantage over Deirdre is her incestuous Cheysuli blood, and that's only because Niall is self-conscious about his lack. But I feel like if he's THAT worried, he can always convince his kids to marry Cheysuli. Bob's your uncle.
But Niall isn't forced to make this call, as Alaric appears.
Almost instantly, she was back in human form. She twisted hands in heavy skirts, backing away even as her father advanced. “No,” she said, “no. Please? No.” The yellow eyes, once so filled with a virulent anger, now reflected the fear of a disobedient child discovered. “It is so hard not to—”
Alaric caught slender shoulders in slender hands. Gisella’s hands splayed across her cheeks as she tried to look away from his angry face. “Again,” he said curtly, “again. Will you never learn, Gisella? There are reasons for what I forbid.”
“I will learn,” she promised, “I will. But—sometimes I have to do it!”
“Even against your father’s wishes?”
She threw back her head and laughed. Laughed. And then she wrenched out of his hands and faced him as defiantly as she had faced us. “You are only angry because you cannot shapechange! Oh, no. Not you! Not even Lillith can.” Throwing out her arms, Gisella let her head fall back against her spine. She spun in place. How she spun, my poor, mad cousin. “I can,” she sang, “I can…and nobody else can do it!” Spinning, spinning, she crossed the floor. Gold and diamonds spun with her, all aglow in the candlelight. And then she stopped short, so short; so close to Ian her skirts tangled on his boot tops. “Not even you can,” she told him cruelly. “Not since Lillith took your lir.”
...honestly dude, is she even capable of consent? I think there's a legitimate question here.
Niall points out, unnecessarily at this point, that Gisella is mad. Like medically speaking, mad. Alaric agrees. But he'll marry her anyway.
“Wed me!” his daughter cried. “Niall is to wed me!” She left Ian behind and came at once to me, locking hands into the fabric of my doublet. “They have told me I must wed you and be Queen of Homana. Will you make me Queen of Homana?”
Gods. One day I would.
You really don't have to.
A lot of the Gisella plot sits uncomfortably with me. I am not educated enough in mental health issues to be a good judge of the ableism here. But it's definitely uncomfortable.
Gisella isn't, I think, a bad person necessarily. She's very self-centered, casually cruel, but I think a lot of that can be attributed to her upbringing. There does seem to be a serious lack of comprehension though.
Niall is inclined to back out of the deal. As he probably should.
I peeled Gisella away and set her aside, confronting Alaric squarely. “There will be none,” I said briefly. “By the gods, you fool, why were we never told? Why was this travesty allowed to continue? Do you think I wish to wed that?”
“Does it matter?” he asked. “You will. Because your prophecy demands it.” Even as I started to speak he silenced me with a gesture. “Turn your back on my daughter, child of the prophecy, and you twist that prophecy. Perhaps even end it precipitately.” He smiled. “In addition, your father will discover me on his doorstep. Armed. With at least five thousand men-at-arms. Is that what you wish to see?”
Alaric has already made it clear that he doesn't put any stock in marriage alliances. Gisella's ability to consent to anything is in clear question. The prophecy would work JUST as well, if not better, with a different, willing princess. Alaric's got no leverage.
Except:
Alaric’s brows rose. “The truce already broken? Ah well, I have other plans. I doubt Liam would be so willing to levy war against Atvia when all of his kin are slain…including his wanton sister.” He smiled. “I thought that might get your attention.”
“You do have an informant in Kilore—”
“Informants,” he corrected. “Assassins, more like. A word from me—or a beacon fire on the cliff—and the royal Erinnish eagles are dashed to the rocks below.” Alaric smiled. “I might even have it done tonight.”
Okay. That's leverage. Niall asks a logical question: why hasn't Alaric already done it. Alaric's been given advice, by Lillith.
And here some questions are answered:
“Lillith?” I demanded. “Aye, patient! And what else is she, my lord?”
“My mother,” Gisella said promptly. Almost instantly a hand flew to cover her mouth; she looked at her father fearfully. “But—that is not really true…is it? You told me—”
“I told you the truth,” Alaric answered evenly. “Bronwyn bore you, Lillith raised you.” He smiled. “How else could you combine Ihlini illusion with the Cheysuli shapechange?”
“Illusion,” I said, startled. “None of it was real?”
Gisella thrust out a hand. Fingers snapped open. Even Alaric squinted in the glare of the blinding flame. “Real,” she said flatly. “Real!”
“Real,” he agreed patiently. “Of course it is, Gisella.” He looked at my brother and smiled. “Lillith wants you, Ian. Had you not better go?”
Before my eyes I saw my brother diminished. He said nothing; indicated nothing by posture or movement, but he could not hide the revulsion in his eyes.
For himself. Not for Lillith.
“Rujho—” I began.
Ian did not even look at me. He walked past me and out of the room.
So Gisella isn't really doing Ihlini magic, per se. Just illusion. Pretty fucking convincing illusion.
And Ian...well, Gisella already told us what's going on there. Alaric doesn't seem to mind. In fact, he's amused to see a Cheysuli humbled.
“What does she want with him?” I ignored the implications in Alaric’s game of pearls and men. “What does she do to him?”
Alaric, shrugging, smiled. “Some men keep hounds, some women cats. Lillith keeps men.”
“You?” I thought it an odd arrangement: light woman to a king, yet collector of other men.
Alaric’s eyes glinted. “She came to Atvia twenty years ago from Solinde. She had grown bored, she said, with her young half-brother’s machinations; she wished to try her own. I saw her. I wanted her. And when I learned precisely what she was, I gave in gracefully.” His smile grew. “She said she always wanted a tame Cheysuli.”
Niall is nineteen. He was already born when Bronwyn was sent to Atvia. This means when Donal sent his sister away, he'd sent her ALONE to a viper's pit where her enemy was already in waiting.
Fuck you, Donal.
But of course, Donal's not the one suffering for his assholishness. That was Bronwyn. And Ian. And I bet you, the fact that Ian looks so much like his father probably just makes this more fun.
Alaric reminds Niall there's a feast in his honor and departs. Seriously dude. Get out of there. Take your brother with you.
So now, Niall is alone with Gisella.
Arms outstretched, she began to spin in place. “Did Lillith not make me pretty?”
I shut my eyes. Oh gods—
“Niall!”
Oh gods—
“Ni-allll!”
“Pretty,” I mumbled. “Aye.”
“But you are not looking at me!” Hands were suddenly on my face, peeling my eyelids back. “How can you see me when your eyes are closed?”
I caught her wrists and threw her hands away from me. I rose even as she protested. “Bronwyn’s daughter, are you? By all the gods of Homana, girl, how could you turn out like this? Because of Lillith? Because of Alaric? Because you know no better?”
She tried to twist free of my grasp, but I held her too tightly. Still, I could not help thinking of how she had reacted to Ian’s touch; how she had assumed the shape of a mountain cat as if to mock his loss of Tasha.
Hey, less of the violence, dude. She's still a woman. And mentally ill. And in a talkative mood. So much so, that Niall finally gets the full story of what happened to Bronwyn.
Basically, the main reason Gisella isn't allowed to shapeshift, supposedly, is because of what happened to Bronwyn:
“She died.” Bronwyn’s daughter rubbed sore wrists and glared at me from beneath lowered brows. “She shapechanged, and she died.”
“Shapechanged! Why? And how did she die?” Suspicion flared more brightly. “Was it Lillith?”
“No. My father.” Gisella shrugged. “He did not mean it. He told me he did not mean it. Because he had no wish to slay me.”
“Gisella!” I caught her upper arms. “Tell me how she died!”
“He shot her!” she cried. “With an arrow! He thought she was a raven!”
“A raven?”
“In Atvia they mean death,” she told me. “Ravens are death-omens.” She shrugged. “Everybody shoots them.”
So yeah, Bronwyn was pregnant. She tried to escape by turning into a raven. Atvians are superstitious about ravens, and Alaric shot her. Gisella was born that day. Poor little girl never really had a chance.
I looked into her eyes and saw no pain, no grief. Only a calm matter-of-factness; only the innocence of a child repeating what she has been told. What Alaric meant his daughter never to tell.
“Gisella,” I said gently, “I am sorry.”
Her smooth brow creased. “Do you think it hurt?” she asked. “The fall? I cannot remember any pain.”
“No pain,” I said, “not now.” I let go of her arms. But Gisella moved in against me, like a child seeking comfort, so I enfolded her in my arms and gave the child the comfort she craved. “No pain ever again.”
...that said, Gisella isn't innocent anymore. She grabs his face and something happens:
She said you would be mine—”
—and I was falling, falling, even as I stood there; even as I tried to speak and could not; tried to reach out; tried to wrench away; tried to break free of the woman who held me trapped within her hands.
Something is in me, something in me—something—
—something indefinable—something reaching into my mind, my soul, my self—
—until there was nothing left—
—nothing left—
—of Niall at all.
“Niall,” she whispered, “we have to go to bed.”
And the chapter ends, ominously, here.
The horror continues. It's pretty effective. I'm not sure we can call Gisella a villain, per se. Because it's not really clear how much she understands about any of this. She is powerful though, and dangerous.
And the only female character to explicitly look Cheysuli. Which is a problem, and something I intend to remind us of every chapter. Because that is not good, Roberson.
And now we see Bronwyn's fate. Poor thing. All of fifteen or sixteen years old. She was younger than Aislinn, remember. And pregnant. And shot down in cold blood by her husband. The story doesn't really make sense though. We have no reason to disbelieve the Atvian prejudice, but why on earth would Bronwyn choose a RAVEN?
First of all, she was there long enough to pick up on superstition if all ravens are shoot on sight. And even if she hadn't, what connection does she have to a raven anyway? A hawk makes sense. Her father had a hawk. Her mother became a hawk. But a raven? Why?
Aside from needless tragedy and a reason for Gisella's entire existence.
In the end, I still blame fucking Donal.
This one is a doozy
Date: 2022-06-07 03:33 pm (UTC)Alix: Why me? Is it to show me how much I owe you?
Leah: No, because you happen to be on the same mission as us. Basically we are going to teach a wizard who thinks all women with power must be evil rapists how wrong he is.
Alix: And I still can't believe my son would be like the Dark One's cultists!
Rey: Well, apparently in this timeline he is.
So if you recall, the last chapter ended with Gisella conjuring some nice Ihlini flame. "Godfire" it's called. It's the signature move of the Ihlini and, if you think about it, a pretty strong indication that the Cheysuli and Ihlini races are related after all. Electra had some magic in her own right, but Gisella seems to be something else.
Rey: I think a combination of power systems usually makes you near-unstoppable.
Leah: Trust me, you don't want to also become a werewolf, you might lose loved ones if you go out of control.
Gisella’s eyes were fixed on me in an opaque, unwavering stare. Diamonds glittered. “Lillith said you would be mine.”
Gods…do they expect me to wed this girl? Do they really expect me to bed her?
Leah: Is this some kind of one-sided imprint?
Ian’s hand motioned for me to stay precisely where I was. Decisively; he was Ian again. And for the first time since Gisella’s attack, I looked at my brother instead of my cousin.
He stood rigidly before her, in three-quarter profile to me. He was intent only on Gisella, marking her posture, her position in relation to me, to the rest of the room, to him. Like me, he was unarmed, but I knew, looking at him, even lacking knife or bow he was as lethal as he was with them.
An odd juxtaposition. They were very like one another, Ian and Gisella, reflecting kinship as well as racial heritage. Again, it was I who was so different, Lirless I was even as Ian was, but still so very different.
Leah: Respect for Ian, he is cool!
Gisella saw me. Her eyes, swollen black in the muted candlelight, shrank suddenly down to pinpricks. Yellow, so yellow, filled with the ferocity of a beast.
Leah: *Changes into wolf, howls something*
Rey: She says beast eyes don't have to show madness.
Alix: About cats, good thing the most threatening person here has this motif. Never underestimate a cat.
One man of all blood shall unite, in peace, four warring realms and two magic races.
Alix: Which means you have to mix the races for the prophecy to work. My dumb excuse of a son made terrible things to achieve piece. But incest can achieve only one thing. Racial purity. In short, all the incest in the series is worse than useless!
Almost instantly, she was back in human form. She twisted hands in heavy skirts, backing away even as her father advanced. “No,” she said, “no. Please? No.” The yellow eyes, once so filled with a virulent anger, now reflected the fear of a disobedient child discovered. “It is so hard not to—”
Alaric caught slender shoulders in slender hands. Gisella’s hands splayed across her cheeks as she tried to look away from his angry face. “Again,” he said curtly, “again. Will you never learn, Gisella? There are reasons for what I forbid.”
“I will learn,” she promised, “I will. But—sometimes I have to do it!”
Rey: Are we sure this is not the Lilith of our common enemies? Because what happened to Gisella does look like what the Dark One nearly did to me.
She threw back her head and laughed. Laughed. And then she wrenched out of his hands and faced him as defiantly as she had faced us. “You are only angry because you cannot shapechange! Oh, no. Not you! Not even Lillith can.” Throwing out her arms, Gisella let her head fall back against her spine. She spun in place.
Rey: I have seen my grandfather, I have seen Engarde, and I have never seen such lunacy.
Alix: In her defense, she is clearly a victim.
“What does she want with him?” I ignored the implications in Alaric’s game of pearls and men. “What does she do to him?”
Alaric, shrugging, smiled. “Some men keep hounds, some women cats. Lillith keeps men.”
Leah: Oh shit! It's the Succubus Queen herself!
Alix: Then again, it is interesting how only villains objectify men but the heroes objectify women. Except Niall. He is cool.
Oh, and was Duncan mad because of his lir? I knew something was very wrong with him!
“But you are not looking at me!” Hands were suddenly on my face, peeling my eyelids back. “How can you see me when your eyes are closed?”
I caught her wrists and threw her hands away from me. I rose even as she protested. “Bronwyn’s daughter, are you? By all the gods of Homana, girl, how could you turn out like this? Because of Lillith? Because of Alaric? Because you know no better?”
She tried to twist free of my grasp, but I held her too tightly. Still, I could not help thinking of how she had reacted to Ian’s touch; how she had assumed the shape of a mountain cat as if to mock his loss of Tasha.
Alix: Why so much obsession with a family member? What did Lilith and Alaric do?
She said you would be mine—”
—and I was falling, falling, even as I stood there; even as I tried to speak and could not; tried to reach out; tried to wrench away; tried to break free of the woman who held me trapped within her hands.
Something is in me, something in me—something—
—something indefinable—something reaching into my mind, my soul, my self—
—until there was nothing left—
—nothing left—
—of Niall at all.
“Niall,” she whispered, “we have to go to bed.”
Rey: Oh shit! I know exactly what happened! I have been there myself! Please tell me it's not an imprint, because that's exactly what happens on an imprint!
Alix and Leah: (hug Rey)
Alix: I didn't expect you to hug her. Anyway, I do owe you. When this is over, the Dark One will die, and no more imprints will exist anymore.
“No. My father.” Gisella shrugged. “He did not mean it. He told me he did not mean it. Because he had no wish to slay me.”
“Gisella!” I caught her upper arms. “Tell me how she died!”
“He shot her!” she cried. “With an arrow! He thought she was a raven!”
“A raven?”
“In Atvia they mean death,” she told me. “Ravens are death-omens.” She shrugged. “Everybody shoots them.”
Leah: I can see why she turned into a raven, despite the fact that you are a hawk, Alix. She wanted so much to see Donal getting what he deserves and feast on his flesh!
Alix: Uh, Leah, he is still supposed to be my son.
Leah: He still sent his sister to her death.
Re: This one is a doozy
Date: 2022-06-07 07:54 pm (UTC)We do see at least a bit of that when Donal is magically cut off from his lir during his captivity.
Ian, at the moment, seems more traumatized than insane, but Gisella told us last chapter that Lillith had been keeping him sane through her magic. (There's an interesting question: if we ever meet a non-evil Ihlini, could they help a Cheysuli who'd lost his lir avoid the need for suicide?)
Re: This one is a doozy
Date: 2022-06-08 12:58 am (UTC)Re: This one is a doozy
Date: 2022-06-07 09:46 pm (UTC)--
Alix: Then again, it is interesting how only villains objectify men but the heroes objectify women. Except Niall. He is cool.
Hah, you're not wrong there. The Ihlini tend to be equal opportunity rapists, especially as the series continues. I will say, from this point on, we won't see heroic rapists at all.
(...with one possible caveat, but we'll talk about that more when we get there.)
no subject
Date: 2022-06-11 03:51 am (UTC)And hearing how Bronwyn died makes me wannna write a spitefic hard. That poor girl.
= Multi-Facets.
no subject
Date: 2022-06-11 06:16 pm (UTC)[cracks knuckles] Okay then.
Date: 2022-06-12 04:02 pm (UTC)Female protagonist: "It's not time for Camp NaNo yet, so I think you'll be fine."
Male protagonist: "And you're almost done with the current chapter, so we won't complain."
Female antagonist: "Much." [evil grin]
Me: Okay then. [opens new GDrive file] If I time this right, you'll see it on the next chapter.
Re: [cracks knuckles] Okay then.
Date: 2022-06-12 04:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2024-09-10 10:18 am (UTC)I hope she gets to hurt Donal. What happened to her is his fault for betraying his sister. Poor Bronwyn. My RP Loki would definitely snatch her away from her horrific fate.
no subject
Date: 2024-09-10 01:35 pm (UTC)