He wouldn’t usually drink so much. In fact, he hadn’t drank so much alcohol since his stubborn and bull headed youth. When he drank in the past, it was to make himself forget or to make himself fearless (which oft led to flying fists and a time or two of bloodied nose). But he wasn’t drinking now to numb away his pain or to be some pompous, fearless braggart.
He was drinking to slow his thoughts so he could remember. And what he wanted to remember was the good memories. He wanted to remember the long chats they’d shared in the still moments, where the world seemed less busy and she held hope in the palms of her hands. He would rest his head in her lap while she told him stories of wars past and of King’s who were less well known but ruled with a wise thumb. She spoke wisdom over him like a soft blanket that he could snuggle into, safe and protective. This was because she was the embodiment of wisdom, a rare and beautiful treasure.
But his thoughts, if left to themselves and not accompanied by the warmth of a friendly drink, well, they would surely force him to wallow in misery for an eternity. They would replay her death over and over again until he was left sullen and berating himself.
He tilted back the bottle of some hardened liquor that he hadn’t bothered to identify properly, and he let the contents spill down his throat. It burned, not too much, but just enough to make that familiar warmth pool in the pit of his stomach.
He chuckled at himself as he tucked one leg in over the other, sitting cross legged up against the castle wall just outside the gates. If only they could see him now—in this state—what would they think of him then? Perhaps they’d laugh at him or worse, pity him.
The soft sound of snow crunched beneath bare feet made his ears twitch and he turned toward the sound despite his head feeling a bit lumpy and his stomach a bit sour.
“Solas?” Her voice was a soft murmur that could have easily been mistaken for the wind. She called out to him from the shadows but he paid no mind to answer.
If she joined him, he would subject himself to foolishness, cold heartedness, bitterness or something…worse.
He didn’t need her seeing this side of him.
Still, the footsteps grew louder and he closed his eyes. His slender fingers grasped about the neck of the bottle, chilled with white knuckles. Perhaps if he couldn’t see her, she couldn’t see him?
He clenched the bottle tighter as the air echoed with silence once more, hoping that she had gone. But instead, warmed gloves passed their heat into his shoulder and he shuddered at her touch, eyes fluttering open.
“It’s very cold out here. You should come inside.” She gestured to the bottle he held in his hand. “There’s a lot more where that one came from too if you’re in a drinking sort of mood. I understand you just lost a dear friend only days ago. I know you wanted time alone but I can’t have my best mage drinking himself into a stupor.”
He just stared at her.
She looked so lovely standing over him in the dusk. Moonlight washed over the snow, making it glisten and sparkle, showering her face with beautiful luminescence. Her cheeks were rosy and kissed by the wind. Her brilliant hair was wind tossed and wild. Those full lips, though chapped, were perfect and he wanted to kiss them.
“You are so beautiful,” he muttered, gazing into those lyrium blue eyes laced with fade touched silver.
“Thank you Solas,” she said, helping him up and wrapping an arm around his waist.
“I am still capable of walking on my own.”
She smirked. “I know. But indulge me.”
“Then can I also request a proper kiss?”
She laughed. “Depends. What do you consider a proper kiss?”
Solas felt the heat rise to his cheeks as that gorgeous smile danced on her lips.
“I was not referring to my lips, if that helps.” As the words came out, he felt instant dread. There was the foolishness he’d been desperate to avoid. Why had he said such a thing?
He felt his cheeks grow warm, embarrassed for himself.
Much to his surprise she didn’t flush at all.
“Oh Solas, I’d love to properly kiss you everywhere but I don’t think that you’re in a state in which my kisses would be proper at all. Perhaps we should just lie you down, give you a bit of water and I’ll read to you instead?”
Solas felt further mortified yet loved.
“Very well. Proper kisses for another day.”
“Yes, I would enjoy that,” she said with a light chuckle and they tromped their way back to the rotunda.
She made due on her word and laid him across the cream colored divan, tossing a light fur throw across his legs. She plucked a book from off the end table and sat near his head, her back against the divan. He listened to her intently for sometime before his eyes grew heavy and closed. The last thing he felt before sleep took him was a gentle kiss on his eyelids.
"Promote What You Love Rather Than Bashing What You Hate."
The main thing that I don’t get about the “this season is suppose to be about Sana!” aggression is that this season HAS been about Sana. We’ve seen so many different sides of this character and her development has thrived ( Iman has been killing it! ) That is a shown fact through the passion that her fans are now feeling for her. The sadness, anger, excitement, betrayal, fear, pride and many other emotions have all been developing factors in past 5 episodes ( and 4 seasons! )
Most of the anger (not all, of course) I’m seeing is for what is posted on tumblr??
Which actually has little to do with how the show is developing or will probably end.
“Evak” has obviously generated a big fan base that has touched many people across the world and that is not a bad thing, it’s not something that should or will go away. It is very true that you can love all the characters in Skam cause there are no villains.
(William’s brother though.. some villain like activities)
I love Sana, I think she is one of the most real characters I’ve experienced in a tv show for a very long time ( both for the much needed religious awareness/appreciation and her being a symbol of a strong minded, intelligent woman who constantly sees the bigger picture with a great amount compassion/wisdom rarely seen in developing young adults )and I’ve been enjoying watching her character develop and adapt to the situations she’s been facing. I’m excited to see how she will overcome cause she a fucking conquer, just like every main before her.
The point I’m getting to is simple:
If “Tumblr” post are the reason why you are “so done” with Skam then simply get off Tumblr and enjoy the show. Don’t boycott or insult the hard work that Julie and the amazing actors/actresses have put into something that has made so many people FEEL.
The reason Evak is so popular is because of the love their fans constantly show for them.
You may call this single minded but here’s a theory..
Stop focusing so much on dragging other fans/characters down (characters that have connected to people that way Sana connects to you) and start focusing on showing/posting about your love for the fucking queen that Sana is.. or maybe more awesome post about the balloon squad (always a fun choice) because that’s what they deserve.
And just to be VERY clear here.. I am not dissing anyone’s passion for Sana because her fan base is very, very valid.
But hate post on Evak are not doing Sana any favors.
Aries: Hair like fire, long, red, yellow, and seemingly glowing, they’re voices burn just as strong. Their tails are a glistening black that shines in the sun, and fade into tips of orange flippers that seem to wave out like flame. They prefer to lure ships to their island and climb aboard with their strong arms, and attack from there, keeping whatever it is they find useful on the ship. Though they are naturally born with some of the smallest teeth of all the sirens, they are born with the strongest arms to make up for it. They are vicious creatures that show no mercy.
Taurus: Truly of the most beautiful of Sirens, able to lure men before even humming a note. They prefer to reside in large areas of sharp rocks, and they sing songs of treasure before they cause another ship to crash against their dangerous home. They love treasure, and will loot every shipwreck that falls to their hand. Their collections are some of their greatest pride, along side their beauty. These sirens are known to have hair dressed in pearls, usually light brown in color.
Gemini: Tails of glistening blue and yellows, reminiscing that of the sky, these sirens were graced with the fastest swimming of them all. They like to keep moving, and will swim to ships and lure sailors to fall off the edge of their own ships before swimming back to their island. These creatures tend to stay towards the top of the water, or in shallow beaches.
Cancer: A rather innocent looking species, these sirens are sometimes mistook for mermaids, which usually turns out to be the last mistake those sailors make. They have enchanting eyes, that seem to house the ability to capture men with just a look. They prefer colder water, staying away from hotter temperatures. Their tails are a deep blue, with fading shades of icier blues, blending in well with the water around them. Though they seem to prefer isolation from other species, these sirens live in groups of at least four usually.
Leo: Graceful swimmers with tails of gold, these sirens are the crown jewel of the deep. They decorate their golden tail with shells, and love to look rather flashy. Sailors can easily see the bright colors as they swim closer to ships, which is exactly what these sirens want, they gather the attention of the sailors before attacking. These sailors are born with nails like claws, and strong as bone, which make for easier attacks. Some have been known to kiss the sailors after they die, leaving a mark that can sear through to the bone.
Virgo: Tails of deep green that blend in well with seaweed, sirens like are dangerous and beautiful. Their hair tends to be dark, and grows in rather slowly, but it softer than anything in the ocean. They are slower swimmers, due to their tails being slightly shorter than the rest, but that does not stop them from being just as deadly. Their songs mimic that of the loved ones of sailors, sounding different to each who hear the song, and lure them in with the sense of their beloved calling to them. They tend to keep to themselves, and claim caves on the coasts of the ocean or near islands, decorating them with the bones of sailors.
Libra: The social butterflies of sirens, their tails shine in coral and pink colors, with the texture of ribbon, and moving like it too. The take pride in their beauty, and in their voices, which can be heard from miles away. They have a tendency to keep the lockets or personal items of sailors and hang them around their territory. Their songs sing of love, and they usually trick sailors into believing they are human before attacking. Their smiles hide rows of sharp teeth that they use to attack, and they carry with them the old knives of sailors they have kept.
Scorpio: These sirens have a tendency to be solitary, living in the depths of the ocean alone, only going to the surface to lure sailors. Their hair is dark, and overgrown well past the edge of their fins. Their tails are a dark blue which blend with the deep ocean wonderfully, with glowing lines of green that accent the sides of their entire tail. Their eyes are sensitive from living in the deepest parts of the ocean, so they only attack at night. Their song could be heard from underwater, even when you’re above the sea.
Sagittarius: Highly dangerous sirens, with long tails of silver that fade into red, and voices like daggers. They are normally seen with dark hair that seems to be ablaze with fire when the sun hits it. They love to play games with sailors before attacking, acting as mermaids before striking entire ships down. Not many sailors live to tell the tale of these creatures, as these sirens are merciless during attacks, using mainly their sharp tails to slash at sailors. They are usually accompanied by creatures like eels or sharks.
Capricorn: These sirens are sort of rare to find in the ocean. That, or no one lives to ell about them usually. These sirens have an almost impossibly shark-like build in their tail, grey and smooth, with a white underbelly and fins slicing out the back. Their hair is usually tied back, and their teeth are of the sharpest in the ocean. They prefer to speak to sailors rather than sing, talking them into coming to their island, where they attack.
Aquarius: These sirens are usually found near shore, with tails of purple laced with blue at the edges, they are truly stunning. Their voices, sound like that of a goddess, until you get too close, which is already too close to escape. They collect rocks and gems, with which they make paths that lead the curious to their doom. Their hair is usually very long, and light colored, sometimes even decorated with coral. They have an affinity for crabs, in which they keep many around them for company.
Pisces: Tails of teal and mint green, these sirens are quick swimmers, and hard to notice in large waves. Their hair is usually free flowing and takes up all the water around them, filling the see with the light shine of it. They have high voices that sing words of wisdom, but rarely do sailors follow their words before being attack. They have sharp fins that grow in on the outer ends of their forearms that are used to attack sailors. They generally love the company of any sea creature, jellyfish in particular, and are rarely seen alone.
people praise intelligence or wisdom or whatever but rarely ever do the same for kindness or empathy, as if it were some kind of weakness to care about other people’s feelings..no.. in a world where a lot of ppl just don’t seem to care the most heartwarming thing is somebody who does. i love the kindness and warmth that emits from these people. i hope they’re having a good day
Two people have been living in you all your life. One is the ego, garrulous, demanding, hysterical, calculating; the other is the hidden spiritual being, whose still voice of wisdom you have rarely heard or attended to.
Weirwoods and Oaktrees: Affinities Between the Old Faith of Westeros and the Celtic Religion
The celtics of old used to worship the oaks, for it was always the biggest and oldest tree in a wood, and so it was considered the wisest. Does this sound similar to something you have heard before?
Celts dominated a huge amount of lands in Europe. But eventually they fell to the Roman Empire and the christians. Celtic mythologist T. W. Rolleston claims that their culture had two main characteristics that led to their domination: their theocratic state that lacked the political organization and unification of their enemies, and their naïve curiosity for other cultures.
The fact is that christians or destroyed or modified a lot of their historical remains. Today, we have mostly three kinds of documents available to tell of celtic religious history, and each has its flaws:
- Archaeology. To our discussion, their most relevant discovery is that of hundreds of dolmens, cromlechs and tumulis (funerary chambers) thorough Europe and all kinds of funerary objects that come with them.
- Classical sources. Texts of greek and roman historians, politicians and travellers, such as Hellanicus of Lesbos and Caesar.
- Irish texts. Ireland was the last celtic domain to fall, only in 500 D.C. with the coming of St. Patrick and his men. There, differently than in other territories such as Britain and Gaul, the christianization was kinder and slower. The Irish priests transcribed old poems and myths, and through them we can learn about heroes such as Cuchulain or Finn mac Cumhail. Unfortunately, though, they tried to erase all signs of the celtic religion. They called celtic deities “fairies”, excluded most traces of religions doctrines and inserted christian figures in the texts.
Our knowledge of the celtic religion is limited, and maybe that is the first and most unfortunate coincidence between it and the religion of the Children of the Forest.
The affinities don’t stop there, though. They are very often present in the texts:
“A wide plain spread out beneath them, bare and brown, its flatness here and there relieved by long, low hummocks. Ned pointed them out to his king. ‘The barrows of the First Men.’
Robert frowned. 'Have we ridden onto a graveyard?’
'There are barrows everywhere in the north, Your Grace’, Ned told him. 'This land is old.’“
Eddard II, AGoT
The Old Celts and their ancestors used to construct dolmens of raw stone (or cromlechs, or tumulis, as time goes by) to guard their dead. This simple chambers were closed with another raw stone as a ceiling, and then buried in a ritual. Many of those dolmens were discovered throughout all Europe.
The description of the First Men barrows seem to match those of the Celts.
To both real and fictional religions, nature is at the center of their faith. The forests, the rivers, the lands and even the living creatures are sacred and are made of god. Each particle is god, and the whole is god.
It makes sense then that all rituals are performed in natura, not in buildings.
The Celts worshipped the Oak because it is the biggest and oldest tree in a forest. It is a symbol of wisdom and longevity. Rare moss that grow on the oaks were cut in a special manner and were said to have healing capacities.
In a similar way, the First Men worship the weirwood because it is "eternal”, or, at least, has an incredible longevity. When weirwoods die, they become stone. Lord Blackwood tells Jaime in ADwD about Raventree Hall’s massive weirwood:
“For a thousand years it has not shown a leaf. In another thousand it will have turned to stone, the maesters say. Weirwoods never rot”
Of course, as we learn in ADwD Bran chapters, there is other reason the Children/Singers worship the weirwoods, but that was long forgotten by the First Men. Even so, the general idea is the same, but much stronger. In weirwoods live the knowledge of dead Singers and through them greenseers can watch future and past.
It is, in any ways, a symbol of wisdom and longevity.
We don’t know much about the Singer’s songs and their meanings, but they aren’t called Singers for no reason. They say they sing the “song of the forest”. It is possibly a religious ritual.
The druids are sometimes confused with bards because often they were both. Their doctrine could not be heard by uninitiated, nor could it be written down (that tradition, combined with christianization, did not help at all our understanding of them). Instead, they were transmitted through music. Musical poetry was sacred, and in stories even had magical powers. The older druids transmitted the lyrics to the younger ones, when the time was right.
Likewise, the Singers don’t have, as far as we know, any written documents.
This side of the celtic religion the christians made no trouble to hide, much the opposite. Archaeology findings are also available. The Celts used to practice blood sacrifice often, and with humans eventually. It’s possible that voluntaries’ blood was more valuable, and that those humans sacrificed were prepared to it since very early in their lives, and they were highly regarded in the community and had a lot of privileges. There are other findings, though, that point to more violent sacrifices, with the blood of subjugated peoples.
In Bran POVs, we learn that human sacrifices before a weirwood were a common practice in older times. With Davos in White Harbor, we get a glimpse of the way the victim’s organs were hanged in the weirwoods branches. With that knowledge, we can even trace back to Ned’s habit of cleaning the blood of his sword in the godswood after an execution. The weirwoods seem to, somehow, like blood.
Lack of personified gods
Unlike all the other religions in ASoIaF, the god of the Old Faith don’t have names.
In celtic religion, there is a controversy about this, due to our lack of knowledge as explained above. But, to certain authors, it can be understood that the celts did not have personified gods as well. Instead, they had magical creatures that were more divine then humans, but were not gods. They are what was called by christian “fairies”. According to this view, though, the real god was in nature.
(It is important to note that this is not a certainty. To some interpretations, those fairies were deities).
And those called Aos Sí are that “faeries” mentioned before. Aos Sí means “people of the mounds”, referring to the belief that this folk lived in mounds. Here, we come back to our first topic, about funerary rituals. The way that the dead were buried left mounds on the ground… But it is not related, in any text, the dead to the Aos Sí. It’s just that the repetition of the mound theme may or may not be relevant.
The Aos Sí were amazingly beautiful creatures, human-looking but not human at all. They were immortal, powerful, magical, and their weapons were the best ever seen. Their kingdoms (in the mounds) were splendorous, but invisible to mortal unless they wanted to be seen. They could see the mortals, though, and if there was interest they could interfere in their world. So the mortal would say only good things of them and worship them, as not to be punished. Sometimes they procreated with humans, and those children usually grow up to be heroes or very important to humanity.
I have seen theories relating the Aos Sí with the Others (!!!!), and I have to say that, tinfoil or no, they are very interesting. That is not the focus of this text, though.
Colonisation and near disappearence
The Irish myth tells that once the Aos Sí ruled all Ireland, but were pushed back to their hidden kingdoms by the milesians, that were considered to be the ancestors to Irish celtic royalty. In actual history, the celts were or killed (Gaul, Brittain) or colonized (Ireland), and a lot of their amazing culture got lost.
In the same way, that happened with the Singers by the First Men (almost total annihilation, pushing them to their “hidden kingdoms”, but maintaining the religion). After, the First Men were pushed back and colonized by the Andals (they survived, but a good portion of their culture and history, besides their lands, were lost).
The coincidences are many, and it is interesting to see how GRRM’s references built this fictional world. In my opinion, the understanding of the references expands the levels of understanding of the novels.
As usual, please feel free to continue the conversation, add info, agree and/or disagree!
I wonder sometimes if we treat our young gently, as though the world would break them, because we are afraid ourselves of what the truth means. There is something to be said, I think, for the cruel nature of trust and faith. If we had not trusted that you were indeed one of us, I think, dear Algie would never have tried holding you out of the window to force your hand, so to speak. We would have treated you with much more care, as though you were fragile and as though you were not your father or your mother’s son.
But I run ahead of myself.
You ask me if this is indeed true. It is. I see no reason to lie now when the tides of war have so turned against us. They might find me and torture me, but I would not care if I could rest satisfied knowing that you know the truth. That you have learnt wisdom, which is a rare gift in these days of rash bravery and deeds of derring do. In these troubled times we need every friend we can find; even those enemies of ours who finally find their consciences. You must ask yourself which is the greater evil – and fight it first.
But you want to know, as I suppose is inevitable, the whys and the wherefores. I trust you are old enough to understand what I write now. I did what I supposed was wise and good. I do not know if it was because I thought to protect you, or if it was because I did not trust myself enough to make sense of it and impart the sense of it and not merely the details of history. History is as much about interpretation as it is about the imparting of facts and you, so young and so naïve, might never have known what to do. You were at an age where answers in clear black and white were all that you desired. You would have taken the questions I posed to you, in lieu of concrete answers, and twisted them into answers that I did not intend at all. Or perhaps, it is simply that I thought more of myself than you. I do not know. That is a question, I suspect, you will answer for yourself when you read this.
You wish to know my chief reason for having concealed the truth about your father’s youth. Consider this, Neville, if I had told you that in his younger days, your father had run with those whom he had fought, who had tortured him, would you not have been hasty to draw conclusions about your own father? Might you not have hated him? I did not want you to hate him.
You must remember that those were trying times for us all. We went for the trials. Others saw criminals. We, mothers and grandmothers and aunts, we all saw boys who had spent their summers playing Quidditch with our sons. Now, of course, they were on trial for murdering and torturing our sons. War is most peculiar. I could hardly make sense of it myself. Such needless violence for some false cause. I wondered, sometimes, if my own Frank had ever shown such defects of character, in some private life of his I knew nothing of. Nine months out of twelve he spent at Hogwarts, far from me, before he became an Auror and they work such long hours at the Ministry. I knew him, and I did not. Every mother experiences that, I think. Knowing, but never knowing. I suppose, if I must, that I do not know you either. By the time this war is over I certainly won’t.
Now you were a peculiar child. Extraordinarily ordinary for all that your mother and father had once been the toast of all the wizarding world. Defied Voldemort three times. With such pedigree you should have shown some kind of extraordinariness, but no you remained stubbornly ordinary. Were you really your father’s son? I saw so very little of him in you. Frank was sanguine and friendly and so very comfortable in his skin. Perhaps it was my fault that you grew up with his weight on your shoulders. Neville Longbottom, son of Frank and Alice Longbottom, heroes who defied Voldemort not once, or twice but thrice. You knew, I think, the way all children do, that we expected so much from you.
You are still a peculiar child, but more comfortable, I believe, in your own skin. Enough to understand that your father could have been a good man and still been friends with murderers – and even more, to understand that even murderers may find their consciences in times like these. I had my own dreams and desires – I never dreamt that my son would ever become a symbol for our world, or a hero. A great man, maybe, but not a hero. But Frank far surpassed the greatest dreams I had for him. He became a hero, the symbol of our times and still a tragedy. I raised you, navigating these new waters - fame and tragedy together - and perhaps, if I am entirely honest, I wished that you would live up to the fine figure your father cut – too hard, too hard. We all wish too hard for those we care for the most.
Once, I suppose, I must have dreamt and wished for things that had nothing to do with sons and families. Those days were long gone by the time they brought you to me. Red-faced and ugly and squalling. I cannot say I lament it. I cannot lament what ifs and buts, it is a complete waste of time.
So you see, I had my reasons - good or bad, that is for you to judge - for keeping your father’s childhood from you, fearing as I did, that you would come to hate him for being a hypocrite. Now, of course, you are old enough to understand that the world is not that simple and that your father could have been many things all at once. Some of it was entirely my own fear, that if I could acknowledge that history, then I would have to ask myself if I could bring myself to show forgiveness. That burden mercifully - or unfortunately - now falls to you. I hope you will forgive me. I hope you will be brave. I hope, above all, that you will be wise.
She’s a Quartz soldier and, from the
line “right here on the dirt” it can be assumed she was made on earth.
Of course, this could be Bismuth’s way to say Rose was a common soldier,
with no more knowledge or privileges than other working class gems. But
the thing is: Rose is NOT Pink Diamond.
BUT: Pink Diamond is missing from “modern” Gem ichonography, this could either mean she:
started the fucking rebellion
supported the fucking rebellion
got shattered at some point of it
Bismuth is bubbled because she perfected “The Breaking Point”
because she was way too radical and wanted to use extreme methods to
achieve victory, she was a “means to an end” kind of soldier, and Rose
couldn’t have that going around her ranks.
It has been 5.300 years since the Gem War
Amethyst has great intuition and an unique wip
like it that she didn’t trust Bismuth right away, despite her friends
and mentors doing it. Amethyst follows her gut, and in this case, her
instincs told her to wait and see before judging. I think this is a very
interesting feature because it speaks of wisdom, somehing people rarely
relates to Ame.
Also, from the look of awe in Bis’ face when
she looked at Amethyst’s wip and her words, we can deduce her wip is
quite unique and rare, maybe even more powerful and perfected than other
Amethyst’s soldiers. So maybe emerging “late” did have some benefits attached? like the ability to crack a very neat wip?
It’s probable that Gems get educated
“A Gem never hears they can be anything but what they are, but Rose opened our eyes”;
“…that Gems can take control of their own identity”;
“how we are convinced to ignore our own potential”
All these sound more like societal conditioning rather than plain
“biology”.It’s probable that, when a Gem is made, she does come with
some knowledge of herself, but these quotes lead me to believe it is
unlike they come out knowing their place in society.
why? because you can only rebel (and win) against something you’ve learned, not something you actually are. If
they opened their eyes it means something kept them shut before, and
that can only be an operational system that perpetuates ideas,
stereotypes and beliefs, therefore, not exactly biological.
This is the 1st time Steven directly poofes a Gem
that kid will need emotional support
Rose REALLY had control issues
think that, by now, we can agree that Rose doesn’t trust her
companions. She keeps a lot of secrets, does a lot of things behind
everybody’s back and the Crystal Gems, and maybe even Rose herself,
dimiss them with the “Rose’s choices are not always easy to understand”;
“the burden of being a lider”, but i think is far deeper here: Rose
simply didn’t trust anybody, she never actually communicated with any
of her companions, and that is why they mitified her after “death” and
why they feel lost right now, had she trusted them as her real equals,
maybe things would’ve been different.
Rose actually KEPT The Breaking Point though??
mean, she poofed Bismuth right in the forge after she showed her the
weapon, and after poofing Bismuth, instead of destroying said weapon, Rose kept it right where it was? Maybe i’m paranoid, but if i absolutely don’t want to use something that could kill, i destroy it in the lava, like Steven did, so why did Rose kept the weapon?