Jul 11, 2025
i cannot imagine such devotion
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i cannot imagine such devotion
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I saw this meme and...The quarrel.
And the tent. And everything.
The whole idea about the symbolic importance of names in The Six Duchies will always be my favourite part about the book series. In a land where there is a tradition to give your kid names that would "shape their lives and beings", and then Fitz legit just doesn't have much of a name for his first couple of years, and when he is informed that he has one it's after a father he has never met, or "my boy" from a mentor who loves him but also sees him as an extension of himself, or an alias used in secret letters from his parental figures, or literally "Fitz" as in "son/bastard" by the man who saw him as a reflection of his father, or "new boy" by a girl who represents a life (to him) that he's always desired but never felt like he fit into, or the name he took upon himself to try move on from his deeply traumatic experiences?
The experiences that made him define his sense of self to how valuable he is to those around him? That makes him believe he does not deserve to be loved...or cannot be loved...simply for being him? For himself?
and his soulmate comes from a place where you give your name to someone you love? And their name means "dearly loved"? Yeah, no. Wrap it up. We're done.
colored a fitz sketch!
Painting my way through RotE summer, here's a more pleasant scene from Royal Assassin of Fitz & Nighteyes playing.
Gouache, 10x7"
I'm overcoming my fear of documenting the ugly stages, so read more if you want to see some progress pics.
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“Thick shocked me when he halted and suddenly took my hand. Even through my Skill-walls, I felt the steady warmth of his regard. “I always got angry at my mum when she washed my ears,” he told me. “But she knew I loved her. I love you too, Tom. You gave me a whistle. And pink sugar cake. I’ll try not to be mean to you anymore.”
The simple words caught me off guard. He stood, lips and tongue pushed out, his round little eyes peering at me from under his knit cap. He was a toadish little man, and his nose was running. It had been a long time since I’d been offered love on such a simple and honest basis. Strangely enough, it woke the wolf in me. I could almost see the slow, accepting wag of Nighteyes’ tail. We were pack. “I love you too, Thick. Come on. Let’s get out of the wet.”
- Fool’s Fate, Robin Hobb
Please just let me hug him.