And I knew that somehow, somewhere in this episode, Cedric would go all “No one can steal that amulet but me!” and I was not disappointed.
Cedric: So, you aren’t a sorcerer after all. Miss Nettle: I guess that makes two of us.
Clover: He’d probably just drop me in the harbor! Wormwood: He’s right. I can see me doing that, yes.
Sofia tapping Cedric’s forehead when she talks about outsmarting Miss Nettle.
Though she didn’t get too many mentions here, I did like Rosey as Miss Nettle’s accomplice. And it was great to see Wormwood get a speaking role again. It’s too bad he can only speak on camera when Sofia is around.
someone in the stf general posted about this so lemme bend ya ear and hoot and holler about it. ahem.
I LOVE HOW SOFIA LOOKS UP TO CEDRIC AND GENUINELY CONSIDERS HIM A FRIEND!! I LOVE HOW SHE REALLY TRULY CONSIDERS HIM THE GREATEST SORCERER. TO HER HE REALLY IS CEDRIC THE SENSATIONAL BUT SHE STILL LOOKS AFTER HIM AND TAKES CARE OF HIS ANXIOUS ASS. CHEERS HIM UP AND COMPLIMENTS HIM. GOES TO HIM WHEN SHE NEEDS HELP OR IS WORRIED. SHE IMMEDIATELY CHASES AFTER HIM WHEN HE GETS OWNED BY SASCHA IN THE ENCHANTED FEAST. WHAT A DARLING!! FRIENDSHIP! SUCH LOVE!! IM GONNA CRY OVER THIS TINY PRINCESS AND HER WILLOWY AWFUL SORCERER
For the anon who requested a Dimples Queen/Outlaw Queen fic to make up for a less than stellar Christmas–this is for you. <3
Robin sits at Roland’s beside, gently stroking his fingers through the boy’s tangled, messy curls. He smiles down at him, watching his son’s eyes become heavy with sleep.
“Did you have a good Christmas?” He asks in a gentle voice.
Roland nods his head, “Yeah, it was nice.” He smiles, “I liked all the cookies.”
“Of course you did,” Robin says with a small laugh.
“Christmas is so different in this world,” Roland says with a hint of a laugh. “I like it better here.”
“Yeah?” Robin asks, as his thoughts shift back to the Yuletide celebrations of the Enchanted Forest—the great feasts they’d have and all of the songs they’d sing not unlike the festivities in this realm. “Why do you say that?”
He can see Roland considering and then watches as a small grin form on the boy’s lips, his deep brown eyes glittering, “It’s…more magical here with the flying reindeer and Santa. I like that part.” He pauses, “And we have Henry and Regina here, too.”
“Well, that last bit’s my favorite part of Christmas in this realm, but,” Robin feels his smile deepen, “Would you possibly like it better here because Santa was particularly good to you this year?”
Roland giggles, “Santa was good to me.”
“What was your favorite gift?”
Robin watches as Roland’s brow furrows, considering his options—and to be fair, there are a lot of options for him to consider. Both he and Regina had spoiled the boys that year. In part, it was an effort to make up for the everything that happened—the teary separations, the quests that took them away from home, the instability that neither of them could control but both felt the need to make up for. But they’d also spoiled them because they simply couldn’t help themselves.
“It wasn’t anything Santa brought me,” Roland says finally, his voice soft and tentative.
“No,” Roland repeats. Robin watches as he catches his lip between his teeth, still deep in thought.
“What was your favorite gift then?”
A small smile stretches across Roland’s lips, “My favorite gift this year was…getting a mother.”
“Oh,” Robin breathes out, his heart skipping a beat. “You mean…Regina?”
Roland nods and his eyes are suddenly wide, waiting for approval. “Is…is it okay that I think of her that way?”
He feels a lump forming at the back of his throat and a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Of course it is,” he tells him, leaning forward to drop a kiss on the boy’s forehead. “And you know what?” His smile deepens as Roland shakes his head. “She was my favorite gift this year, too.”
Roland smiles and burrows back against the pillows, and they say no more. He sits there, on the edge of the bed, waiting until he’s sure Roland’s asleep. Finally he stands and adjusts the blankets around him; and that’s when he sees Regina standing in the door way, with soft eyes and a teary smile spayed across her face. She holds out her hand to him and he’s quick to close the distance between them, taking her hand as she pulls him against her—and he knows that she will always be his favorite gift.
The cedfia teasing is there but it’s very tasteful only friendshipy stuff as not to offend any little children or their parents. Still the hug is so adorable and it’s worth mentioning that Cedric hugged Sofia willingly and seemed to be enjoying their teamwork. (I liked the fact that Sofia was wearing her apprentice robe, nice nod to the previous season.)
Celebrated as a national holiday amongst Muggles since 1863, Thanksgiving has undergone numerous transformations over the decades, with the single consistency being the celebratory feast considered part of the perfect celebration.
Amongst the populous of the AWC, Thanksgiving is not so widespread, having never officially been adopted as a national holiday by the Congress. Celebrations still occur all over the country, of course, though only the South-Eastern, North-Eastern and Lake-Central regions have officially recognized an established day for the feast. As a result, the Salem Institute, Blackgate Academy, Randolph-Poythress Institute, and Allegiance Academy all cancel classes on the last Thursday and Friday of the month to celebrate.
Most of these celebrations, whether at home or in the school, do not focus exclusively on the feast that follows, though that remains a very important element of the day. Instead, the local wizarding populations tends to host harvest festivals, complete with games, parades, competitions, and a variety of performances recreating great points in American wizarding history. At the Allegiance Academy, students watch and participate in a recreation of Irma Cove’s daring liberation of the school’s first students while filling themselves on a twelve course meal that starts with the extremely humble (and sometimes demeaning) repast of a slave, and slowly expands into a rich feast of the seafood and rich meals enjoyed by Allegiance students.
In the Salem Institute, students are treated to a harvest festival with all the trimmings, attended by not only the faculty and their pupils, but by a variety of alumni and “friends of the school,” who spend all year looking forward the faire. Apples are bobbed, pies are stuffed with magical and often unexpected filling: honey and sadness, winter winds and memories of warm contentment, or, always a crowd favorite, the shadows of bats and crystallized starlight. At the height of the feast, the Headmaster carves the first of the 100 turkeys specially prepared for the feast, his enchanted silver knife making similar cuts on every bird on every table. Randolph-Poythress hosts a similar fete that includes their final races before the winter, their equestrian students showing off the best that their steeds, both winged and terrestrial, can do. They favor more traditional meals, but also provide the cream of that year’s cider, which can promise sweet dreams and warm feelings for days to come.
There is a great competition between the two schools as to who holds the grandest party, dating back to a much older argument about who held it first.
Blackgates’s feast can run all night and well into the morning hours, where a massive breakfast meets it coming the other way, and while Laveau and La Occidental don’t cancel classes, they do their best to provide a banquet worth remembering, based largely on their own, unique cultural influences. The gumbo of Laveau can send you into raptures of delight, and LAO’s exquisitely crafted portions extol the virtues of quality over quantity.
Only the Mesa Academy abstains from the celebration, hosting instead a night of remembrance for those lost to the conflicts caused by colonization. Dinner that evening is a scant affair, based on the scarce provisions left to the Native Americans during their expulsion from their tribal lands.
Nirn held much beauty this time of year, and Dibella fell enchanted with the various feasts for the senses that accompanied the arrival of spring. It made her smile to build a collection of assorted flowers and colorful plants to wrap into a decorative circlet to show appreciation for the season. Her magicka made quick work of the binding. In no time, the lazy feeling Aedroth sighed and closed her eyes, lounging comfortably in repose with her lovely smelling crown to keep her company. After several moments, the scent of an unfamiliar being carried on the wind. This found her surprised- it was unusual to see another this far up the mountain. Curiosity caught, her shift in position and the intrigued incline of her head in order to get a better look at the approach caused the crown to slip from its perch and float delicately down towards the other.