Passionate Ambivalence

Revry ad talking about lack of bi rep. I guess that's true, tho the missing rep that really sticks out for me is trans rep, POC queer rep, and disabled queer rep. Did I mention trans POC? Especially Black trans masc folks? yeah.

There didn't used to be good bi/pan rep, but gay chars used to be tokens written by, or at least for, straight ppl. But even then, Maureen in Rent was there for us. She sucks, but so do I sometimes.

Smart-and-Dumbass ND Disaster Bi Dr. Julian Bashir should be mentioned...

I feel very represented by Disaster Bi Jock Avatar Korra.

Decently seen with Eleanor on The Good Place.

Killjoys is full of queers and damn near everyone is queer friendly, tho I couldn't think of a specific bi/pan char... wait yes I could. ZEPH! I love that nerd! and she does make me feel seen.

In The Dragon Prince:
BIG RELATE with High Mage Viren (queer in the VERY LOUD subtext) and Queen Sarai (gone too soon, taken by the Fridge Your Moms trope, with a small assist from Bury Your Gays)

I feel super duper represented by p much all the dumbass pansexual vampires on What We Do In The Shadows. Nadja and Laszlo and Jenna, but very especially Mr. Nandor the Relentless. Practically just my vampsona, but tall and with a beard. I do possess more capacity for introspection than he displays, but it's awful and I avoid it, so it comes out the same.

The Filth, tho.
I never imagined I could feel as well-represented as I do by Stella on The Filth. She's like... me, but without kids. Me... but a plumber. Me... but lives in California.

I even had a Max, too, sort of, and he had a Danny. But my Max is bi, too, and he's married to a woman now, AFAIK, and has a cute kid. And his Danny married a chicken-raising, roller derby-playing agender butch with two kids, and became a hell of a stepdad.

ETA: I cannot fucking believe I left out Xena. I was thinking about stuff I watched as an adult, but how the fuck can u talk about dumbass pansexual warlords and not bring her up?!? Just smush Xena & Stella together & u get me. Also u kinda get Nandor? And Korra is really similar? Also something something The Old Guard...

1.

Custom decrees that any two people caught in the rare glow of the roselight crystal who are free to do so ought to kiss, as this will bring good fortune to them and their folk. It is a custom of the capital region, and Viren, newly arrived from the western uplands, has never heard of it. The High Mage smiles when she mentions it, and the lesson meanders off on a tangent about her beloved late wife's odd relationship with luck and games of chance. Apprentice mage Viren files the bit of folklore away as foolish sentimentality that could, like any knowledge, prove useful in the right circumstances.

He isn't expecting to be quizzed about it the next evening by the heir to the throne. His Highness Crown Prince Harrow, whom Viren has only met once, in a crowd, asks if he knows what kind of crystal is set in the lamp over one door to the New Year's Ball. Eager to prove himself, he identifies the crystal, describes its structure and uses, and mentions the custom he's just learned.

"... but I'm not certain what's meant by 'free to do so.'"

Harrow shrugs.

"Probably old enough, not in holy orders, and not married?"

"That would depend on the type of marriage or other bond. Different human nations have different traditional family structures, and in ancient Xadia..."

They both end up late to where they're going. And in the following weeks Viren finds himself spending many evenings in the library, helping the prince study, telling stories, or talking through his latest research ideas while Harrow listens.


2.

Harrow is seventeen when he travels to Neolandia, excited and a bit overwhelmed with the new and wondrous sights and sounds and smells and tastes. Viren is with him, a close and familiar companion whose presence helps center and ground him, despite the young mage's frenetic attempts to learn every bit of information about every place they visit and everyone they meet.

Their clothes aren't right for the weather, so it's a welcome relief to eat lunch with Prince Ahling in a shaded, poolside garden. Afterward they wander through a cave filled with the prince's prized pets, rare lucky dthak lizards that draw energy from the fireheart crystals embedded in the walls. The lizards occasionally make croaking/chirping sounds that are faintly musical. It's Neolandian tradition, Ahling tells them, that if you hear one sing six notes, you will find true love within the year. He has many other lizard facts he's proud to share, and Viren listens avidly, while Harrow returns to the pool, pulling off his boots and swishing his toes in the water.

It's no surprise that Viren crashes into bed immediately after dinner and starts snoring soon after. Harrow feels worn out too, but too keyed up to sleep. A huge yellow moon rises over the garden, and the lizard sounds start up again. Some climb out of the cave while the moon is brightest, and he starts counting the notes. He tries to wake Viren, but his companion slumbers on, face aglow with moonbeams, soft and calm and beautiful.

Harrow thinks if he hears the six notes there's no need to wait a year, or a minute; his true love is here. He laughs at his own romantic nonsense. His mother would dismiss it, since that's not how royals ought to think. Viren might dismiss it, too, depending on his mood, but it doesn't matter. Loving Viren is just a part of him, warm and steady in his heart for years now. He brushes Viren's hair back from his forehead, and gently kisses his cheek, before climbing into bed, sleepy at last.

As he's drifting off he hears a dthak lizard singing, six notes in a row.


3.

At Princess Annika's wedding, Viren dances for hours, polishing familiar steps and learning new ones.

Shortly before sunset, the families offer a song and a prayer, and the brides toss their garlands of flowers into the crowd.

If the garlands are caught by lovers, it's an extra blessing for the marriage. So when Viren catches one, and sees Harrow catch the other, he isn't surprised by the kiss, and he plays along.

"It's gracious of you to make a good show for tradition and luck."

Harrow shakes his head with a nervous smile.

"They aimed for us. Because they know how I feel about you."

"How do you feel about me?"

"Please, let me show you..."

He reaches for Viren, and Viren nods and leans in. This kiss, like the other one, is joyful and sweet, but it's also tender, and passionate, filled with pent-up longing and a hint of future dreams.

Then Harrow asks, "How do you feel about me?"

Viren tells him, "I'd do anything for you!"

Harrow smiles. "I know. But I'm your prince, and that's your duty, so-"

Viren stops him.

"I'll always serve the crown, of course, but you... It's not your crown or your title that makes me want to follow you anywhere..."

Harrow pulls him close.

"...face any challenge, risk any danger..."

He trails off as Harrow claims his lips decisively. Annika flashes a satisfied smirk in their direction as the brides make their way to their private chamber.

There's more dancing, and this time prince and mage move together, close and slow in the torchlight, murmuring truths and promises, in between kisses, long into the night.

"May I cut a lock or your hair?"

"I suppose. What for?"

Viren frowns slightly, cutting the hair and stroking it between his fingers as he answers.

"My grandmother - not Claudia, the other one - was a wild mage in the mountains. One of her stocks in trade was protection charms. There's one for childbirth, with a braid of all the family's hair. I've already got mine, and Soren's... A bit foolish, perhaps, but I've had terrible dreams..."

Silvis shakes his head.

"It doesn't sound foolish to me. I've got no reason to be snobby about types of magic." He peers at the hair in Viren's other hand. "But yours are so short, how can you make a braid?"

"Maybe... spin it first?" Viren's tone indicates he knows precisely nothing about spinning.

"That works with wool and... flax?" Silvis doesn't know much more. "But I don't think you'd get the same results with human hair. It's so... slippery."

In the end the hair is sort of twisted together, around braided thread, and placed in a pouch embroidered with runes for health and protection. He's wearing it over his heart, and it's certainly imbued with love and care, which ought to be enough.

*

Storms on the road from Camboria keep the birth priest delayed. Labor starts sooner this time, and drags on. Viren talks, at times with nervous energy, and Silvis mostly naps. He does find the energy to grumble in response to musing about names, "if the child is a girl."

"We won't know that," he says tiredly, "Until she tells us."

Viren nods quickly. "Right, yes, sorry. If we'd adopted your people's approach it would have saved Harrow some grief... But we haven't, and we won't. I thought we agreed to bestow a name on the seventh day again."

"Yes, that's fine. That's different from claiming we know what we can't."

He's expecting to be part of the ceremony, but fate has other plans.

"I can't stay here, and you won't leave. I guess that means it's over."

"Why can't you stay here? This is our children's home!"

"I just... can't! It's not my home, and it never will be. I've tried to change the way I feel, but I can't do it. I miss Del Bar too much. I miss the mountains, and the rivers, and the way things smell... I miss the snow that actually stays on the ground all winter. I miss the food! The holidays, the music..."

"You can visit anytime you want."

"I know that, but it's not the same. I need to live there. I miss my family. My parents won't be around much longer, and my cousins and nieces and nephews will grow up without me."

"I don't understand why that matters so much. Do they need you?"

"Yes. And I need them. We need each other. We belong to each other."

"I don't understand."

"I know you don't."

"..."

"Come with me! I know you don't feel the same way about Katolis. My people would welcome your skills. You can serve humanity anywhere."

"Humanity, yes..."

"...but not your king."

"I'm sorry."

"Me too. I know we would feel differently if we could. You just can't change what your soul needs."



Alternate, earlier, more poetic (?) version:

Too Far From the Home Place

"I miss my home too much... I'm sick with longing. My people are all buried there, and I want to visit and speak with them. There's a hill behind our home where the hidden folk live, and they've been calling to me in my dreams. I can't stay away!"

"I suppose you should leave, then."

"Come with me, please! You can use your talent to serve humanity anywhere!"

"Yes..."

"...but not your king. That's the problem, isn't it?"

Viren doesn't answer. There's no need.




(a bit inspired by recent soul-crushing personal experience, but also a Due South fic I meant to write in 2001 or so)

Three vines grow up between the statues, in the Valley of Graves.

Sometimes the king's children wander. Sometimes they beg for stories.

The three vines spread and twist, around the statues and each other. Two of them bear flowers in red and gold.

"What about this one?" the eldest asks, pointing to the vine with purple flowers, streaked with midnight black. "Why are the thorns so big and sharp?"

The High Mage is ancient, and fearsome, and wise. When she answers, it's wistful, and bitter, and fond.

"Oh," she says, "If you knew him, you'd understand."

 Look, I know some people say grief fucks you up, and it doesn't fade in a predictable way, so really the best we can do is mourn intensely at the beginning, and set aside special days, and let the lost ones live in memory and in our words,* but hear me out:

spoilers for The Dragon Prince

"You're beautiful... bro, and so is your family!"

and 

"I love you enough to die for you (even though it's stupid and impractical & kind of negating the sacrifice of someone you love)... totally like a sibling... yeah..."

are definitely thoughts I, too, would express in a world where

"I'm a mom who loves my husband and also this hot goddess / personification of virtue"

and 

"I'm woman who loves my wife and daughter"

are the kind of things people express before they get killed off, never to appear outside flashbacks and dreams

keep it in the subtext, save a life? argh


(what if they put it in a book & not the show? it would be like those crappy Star Trek things all over again, with no damn excuse in this year of our dragon lords)

The summer was nearly over and the children would be departing soon. It seemed a shame not to spend every minute around them, but they never wanted to come to the temple and Silvis never wanted to push them, especially now, when they valued their hard-earned teenage independence.

"It's fine Papa, just go. We'll stay with Aunt Haleth and go swimming again, after I bake a surprise."

Claudia was already mixing something in a bowl as she absently motioned him toward the door. He stopped and leaned against the doorframe, unable to avoid voicing futile regrets. 

"Sometimes I wish I'd shared more of this culture stuff with you when you were younger."

"Didn't you? You used to sing us to sleep."

Soren looked up from stoking the fire for the oven.

"Yeah, that was nice. After you left Claudia used to get mad cuz Dad didn't know the same songs."

"But he read from the book of myths. And sometimes he made shadow shows, too."

"He did?"

Back when Riva was his boss, she and Silvis used to bond over being unimpressed and disapproving of the soulless uses of magic in Katolis. Yet that had never applied to Viren's shadow shows. Even when the message was political and pragmatic, the pageantry and passion brought the narrative to a more transcendant level. Knowing Viren had used that skill to breathe life into his people's stories for their children touched him deeply.

"Yes. We like the stories.  We just don't really believe them the same way you do. Dad says Katolians worship-"

"-one god, at the most. I remember."

*

Silvis has needed this badly. Spending time with the children makes memories resurface, dragging intense emotion with them. He struggles to seek balance again. He finds it in the dance, the song, familiar, holy rhythms of sharing, and celebration, and sacrifice.

The priestess's voice guides him on an inward journey to meet with the Lady of Harvest. Her hair is gold, like his, and Soren's. Her sickle is as sharp as her smile.

She tells him to remember to choose wisely. Not to hold on to that which should be sacrificed.  Not to sacrifice that which must be kept.

It feels like a truth he's been holding off for years. That things that hurt to lose were never right to keep.  The marriage was wrong, but the children were right, and the love... but where does that leave them? They don't hate each other, but they did for a while, and they had to, or he'd have stayed, and kept fighting, and they'd all be more broken than they are.

 (You probably never heard of the show.)