Reactions from the Realm: Assassin’s Fate, Chapters 35 – 50

Goodbye My Friend

***Spoilers for the 🚨entirity🚨 of the Realm of the Elderlings. Particularly the end of Assassin’s Fate. ***

At times, it felt like this day would never come. When I started blogging my way through the Realm of the Elderlings a little over a year ago, I didn’t have a clear vision. Just a woman so enraptured by a series that her mind could no longer contain all of her thoughts without an outlet.

And now that I’ve seen it through to the end… what a journey it has been. At times, it became my own personal Fool’s Quest, leaving me wondering what I’d gotten myself into. But ultimately, I’m proud of what I’ve accomplished. Through the highs (an afternoon romp with a hedge witch) and the lows (deformed dragons wallowing in the mud). Through joy, sorrow, and every emotion in between, it has been an absolute privilege to experience the world Robin Hobb created and the stories she crafted within it.


I can delay no longer. There is nowhere else to start but with the man of the hour: FitzChivalry Farseer.

After many false deaths – including one more fake-out down the stretch for good measure – our tale ends with his leaving the mortal plane for good. It felt inevitable, but that doesn’t make it any easier to digest.

And Robin didn’t take it easy on us. She manages to make it both beautiful and devastating.

He is surrounded by his loved ones in his final moments. Proof of a life that touched so many others. A man worthy of love and respect, even if he could never see it himself.

But before we get to this triumphant exit, we are treated to some good ol’ fashioned Fitz suffering in the highest degree.

After the escape from Clerres, Fitz is left for dead pinned by a fallen beam in the escape tunnel. We spend a good amount of time thinking that was his true end, which was tough to swallow.

But alas, we rejoin a conscious Fitz – with Nighteyes’ consciousness for company – alive but unable to move. The tube of silver we’ve been waiting on finally comes into play. Fitz knocks his pack out of reach, triggering the upturned firebrick and Chade’s remaining explosive, which bathes him in raw silver. Yikes!

And thus begins a truly awful journey home. It really encapsulates all the suffering we have seen Fitz face, but also all of his resolute determination and ability to find a way.

And for the observant, there is this building horror as Robin drops little mentions of the itch on the back of Fitz’s neck.

FUCK.

It was a small moment in the chaos, but I certainly took note of the dart that pricked Fitz’s neck in his fight with Servants. And truthfully, it was that small moment when I knew for certain we were at the beginning of the end for Fitz. This particular groundwork was laid way back when the parasite-infested white showed up at Withywoods teaching us two very important things: the parasites are slow moving and incurable.

There is so much happening, it’s easy to sort of put the dart out of our minds. But every so often, Robin slips in a tiny reminder – like Fitz absently scratching at the back of his neck while still trapped under the beam – to make sure we don’t get too comfortable. He may escape the beam and the tunnel, but there is no outrunning what is happening in his body. By the time we get to Nighteyes elegantly stating: “My brother, you have worms.” the writing is on the wall.

This was the hardest part for me. Did he really have to be suffering so intensely at the end? I mean, how can I even ask that at this point, of course he does. Robin stays the course and pulls no punches.

Within the abject misery of his quest home, we did get one more humorous (in a dark sense) moment. One last classic Fitz-being-a-ding-dong for old time’s sake.

After the brutal journey to the standing stones of Furnich – complete with fighting off a gang of young miscreants and learning his new silver infusion gives him the power to Skill-will death 😬 – he finally makes it to the stones with the intention of traveling to Kelsingra. But – oh shucks – he absentmindedly braces himself on the wrong side of the pillar and gets pulled through to an unintended destination. Hate when that happens!

But fate intervenes and he’s deposited at the old memory stone quarry where Verity carved his dragon. Which, it turns out, is exactly where he’s destined to be.

It takes him awhile to accept that there is no leaving this place, no returning home for Fitz. And that his only remaining task in this life is to carve his own “dragon.”

I knew that dragon was going to take the shape of a wolf from the very first moment the idea of carving one was introduced. What else could encapsulate his soul for all eternity?

It wasn’t an easy end for Fitz. His body is deteriorating, as is his mind, as he pours himself into the task at hand. It was both fascinating and heartbreaking to watch him step into the very ending he once witnessed for Verity. We’ve been here before. We know what this looks like. And it’s only more wrenching with Fitz on the other side of the carving.

Though his ending is anything but peaceful, Robin gives Fitz – and us – the gift of goodbye. Rather than leaving him to die alone in a tunnel on Clerres, she allows him time to reunite with Bee, Nettle, the Fool, and those he loves before the very end.

Perhaps most importantly, she gives him something Fitz has rarely had: a choice. So much of his life has been shaped by duty, prophecy, and the decisions of others. So it felt deeply meaningful that his final act belonged wholly to him.

“…And this is the ending I choose for myself. My decision, for me.”

It feels like one final act of grace.

And speaking of those loved ones: this is as much the Fool’s conclusion as it is Fitz’s.

The Fool likewise has a difficult path in the aftermath of Fitz death number one. (Ok, maybe not number one, but the first one in this section 🥴).

He never quite manages to connect with Bee in the way he longs to. I can see how for some this may feel frustrating, but I actually appreciated this choice. Bee isn’t looking for another father. She already had one, as she reminds Fitz in the quarry:

“And I have had a father. You were my father, and I will go on without one now.”

It’s heartbreaking that they never truly find one another. But Robin has always been willing to let relationships remain imperfect when that’s where the truth of the characters lies.

Their tension culminates with a blowout fight, Bee projecting her hurt and anger onto the Fool. She makes him believe that Fitz wrote him off during their time apart and that their relationship was never repaired.

So when the end finally comes, he’s broken, unable to bridge the gap between them, until Bee sees what’s needed for Fitz to finally let go.

“You are so stupid.”
Astonishment broke through his pain.

“He loved you more than he ever loved any of the rest of us!”

And with this final nudge, he goes to Fitz as Fitz silently calls for him.

“He put his arm across my father’s bony back. He drew him close and then set his silver fingers to the wolf.”

And together – with Nighteyes – they pass into the wolf.


So what is there to say about Fitz? Did I sob through his final moments? Of course. (Like legit loud gasping sobs. It was wild.) But despite how emotional it was, I also found it satisfying and was left with a sense of peace. Mostly because Fitz was finally at peace. It has been a bumpy ride; my guy has earned this rest.

We’ve been with him since he was a young boy. Watched him experience unfathomable horrors and hardships. Some of us have maybe even named a whole ass cat after him. He is a beautifully cultivated character, flaws and all. And I will cherish the time we had together.

It is hard to say goodbye. But I’m comforted that he found closure with those he loved. That, at long last, his spirit is whole. At rest. Complete with Nighteyes and the Fool.


And with that, one more time for the road, it’s time for…

MUSINGS!

Fitz’s conclusion is, understandably, the main attraction as we wrap up the series. But I want to give space to what feels like the emotional culmination of the Rain Wilds side of the story: the liveships becoming dragons.

Paragon’s transformation mid-battle into two dragons is, of course, the most dramatic – as is fitting for Paragon.

Vivacia transforms as well, along with another ship from Bingtown harbor. I also love that Robin leaves us with some ambiguity surrounding the others. Especially Tarman, who hasn’t yet decided whether to embrace that destiny.

When I step back and consider the full journey we’ve been on with the dragons, it’s remarkable.

We survived the serpent struggle bus through Liveship Traders. We endured the bleak hatching of the malformed dragons in Rain Wild Chronicles. We were in awe as Tintaglia took flight and Icefyre was freed. We celebrated the return of silver and dragons once again filling the skies.

Then there’s the unreal revelation that liveships themselves contain dragon spirits. A truly fantastic fantasy element.

The dragon mythology is so thoroughly fleshed-out (pardon the pun) that watching Paragon and Vivacia shed their hulls and take to the skies in their intended forms feels like one last magnificent payoff.

I loved it and I love them.

Long live the dragons!

I was genuinely distraught when Althea and Lant were missing after the Clerres harbor battle. I was hopeful we would get at least one back. So when Althea was fished from the sea after having drifted away, I started getting a little nervous for our dear old Lant.*

Thankfully, Robin showed us a rare bit of mercy. I was so relieved when Lant finally reunited with the gang back in Bingtown. And honestly, after everything she’d already survived over the course of the series, I’m so glad Althea made it home too.

*I was admittedly pretty harsh on Lant in my last post, but I have to give credit where it’s due. He climbed a few notches in my estimation during the rescue and escape from Clerres. Amid all the horror and chaos, he was a remarkably steady presence. Calm. Courageous. Dependable. When it mattered most, he showed up.

The entire time Bee is back at Buckkeep, things feel a bit off.

Sure, she’s going through the motions. Attending lessons. Being polite(-ish) to nobles. But between the lack of a bond with the Fool, Perseverance being treated poorly in the stables (unforgivable!!), and Fitz still out there somewhere, alive but slowly dying, it all carries this strange liminal feeling.

There is a constant sense that this isn’t where anyone’s story is meant to settle.

But amid the strangeness, there is one truly bright spot: Bee’s friendship with Thick.

And this is why Robin Hobb is the best.

Of course these two would find each other at the eleventh hour. Bee is drawn to him at night by his Skill music.

“Then he said, ‘I was dreaming a song for Fitz’s little girl. If I ever got to meet her.’
‘That would be me,’ I said, and ventured closer.
He pointed to a cushion on the floor near his chair. ‘You can sit on that, if you want. It’s Smokey’s cushion, but he’s sitting with me right now. He won’t mind.’
Yes, I will.

And with a bonus sassy cat moment?? What a gift.

Bee keeps returning, and together they build this incredibly gentle friendship. Thick even teaches her how to make his music. It’s almost unbearably tender.

“He had saved some gingerbread from earlier in his day, for all his meals were brought to him now. We shared that, and shared our cat-purr music, adding more things to it. I felt honored when he put in me laughing at the cat as he danced after a dropped spool. It was more fun than I’d ever had with anyone in my whole life.”

It’s impossible not to think of the bond Fitz built with Thick over the course of the series. It didn’t come easy, but Fitz earned his trust through patience, care, and quiet persistence. Their friendship became one of the most quietly beautiful relationships in the entire series.

Thick was one of the most unexpected sources of heart in the entire series. (We’ve come a long way from Dogstink!) I’m so grateful we got this beautiful farewell with him.

There are never enough flowers that Fitz could receive to satisfy me. But I’ll happily take this particularly satisfying acknowledgment:

“The dragons told me that my father would be remembered as a friend to dragons and a vengeance-taker.”

You know what? Hell yes!

What greater honor could there be than earning the respect of dragons, who notoriously think very little of humans.

I love that we didn’t wrap things up without a few oddly charged Kettricken exchanges for the road.

First, as Nighteyes shifts back into Bee’s mind, he makes an arguably in-poor-taste observation:

Your mother was a good mate for Fitz. She gave him what he needed. But this is the woman I would have chosen for us.

Nighteyes!

Some decorum, please.

Still, it’s a fascinating admission. And I always love these moments, where Nighteyes’ animal practicality cuts straight through the messy complexity of human relationships.

Then, as Kettricken arrives at the quarry while Fitz carves his wolf, we get this exchange:

“Kettricken. I did not see you there.”
“You never did,” she said and smiled sadly.

Oof.

Is the implication here that Kettricken might have been open to something more with Fitz at some point after Verity’s death?

We’ve always experienced their relationship from Fitz’s perspective. And if there’s one thing we know about Fitz, it’s that he could miss someone being romantically interested in him even if they hit him over the head with it. He’s always assumed Kettricken could never truly move on from Verity. But perhaps he simply couldn’t see that, if there was anyone she might have moved on with, it was him.

Looking back across the series, these two have shared some deeply intimate moments. Whether this was Robin confirming romantic feelings or simply one final beat in their beautifully charged dynamic, it’s hard not to wonder what might have been.

I can’t possibly go deep into every character, but I want to at least acknowledge a few old friends.

  • Ronica: A brief cameo, but it was nice to see her again. (Look, I didn’t call her boring. Growth. 😊)
  • Wintrow: He doesn’t have a huge role to play here (which is fair, he’s earned some time in the backseat after his Liveship Traders ordeal), but we leave him on an interesting note. He’s forced to confront that returning to Divvytown also means returning to Etta, and perhaps that’s not the best direction for either of them. It’s a bittersweet glimpse at how their relationship has weathered the years. Not every ending is tidy.
  • Paragon Kennitson: Wow. He never quite becomes a central character in the story, but he certainly gets a heroic exit, going out in a literal blaze of glory. As Paragon burns in the Clerres harbor, Kennitson charges through the flames to deliver the tube of silver that allows him to transform, sacrificing his own life in the process. It was sad, but there was something sort of poetic about it. After everything Paragon sacrificed because of Kennit, Kennit’s son ultimately sacrifices himself to save Paragon.
  • Motley: I’ve been pretty high on Motley throughout, and she quietly proves herself to be a crucial figure in the end. She keeps Fitz company on his grueling trek home and then later arrives at Buckkeep to confirm he’s still alive. I love that she never tries to replace Nighteyes as Fitz’s true bond, but she fills a void nonetheless. She brings some needed humor, companionship, and one last reminder that animal relationships have always been a core part of the heart of Realm of the Elderlings.
  • Hap: I was so glad to have Hap folded into the ending. It meant a lot that Robin never discarded him, but always treated him as family. He’ll always be Fitz’s first boy, and I love that Bee has him as one more piece of her father to carry into the future.
  • Prillkop: He may take the prize for being one of the strangest figures in the entire series, and his ending is perfectly in keeping with that. Which is saying something considering the sheer number of weirdos we’ve encountered. (Cough. Others. Cough.)

I can’t resist a final classic Nighteyes zinger. What a gift to have a brief return of their banter:

“‘What would you have me do? Chew off my legs?’
A brief silence. Then, Could you do that?

Also… Porcupine!

I’m winding down here, folks. But I would feel remiss if I didn’t mention Bee’s Skill-healing. It’s a huge part of how her magic manifests down the stretch, and I think it’s an important counterbalance to everything that came before.

Robin doesn’t leave Bee defined solely as the Destroyer. She reminds us that, at her core, Bee isn’t a force of destruction. She is also an instrument of healing.

Her healing of Boy-on in particular felt like a lovely full-circle moment. After everything Althea and Brashen sacrificed to help Fitz and Bee, it felt fitting that Bee’s gift would be used to help save their son.

I loved this little exchange between Brashen and Per:

‘His father abruptly leaned closer. ‘Butter does that?’ he demanded in a stunned voice.
‘No. Farseers do that,’ Per choked,”

And with that, it’s just one more connection between Bee and Fitz.

A true Farseer, right down to the magic flowing through her veins.

We leave Bee under Kettricken’s care, with Perseverance at her side (and a few other friends), heading toward the Mountain Kingdom.

It’s a lovely parting group. Melancholy, but hopeful.

But it really makes me wonder: Is Bee’s story actually over?

I think… perhaps not.

And if Robin has more she wants to share…

I’ll be ready to go wherever she wants to take us.

(Maybe a trilogy of Bee having fun and finding happiness with absolutely no life-altering trauma whatsoever? Apparently sixteen books couldn’t cure my delusion optimism.)

And hopefully, if that day ever comes, we’ll meet back here to break it all down together.


How do I even end?

Perhaps this blog became a little like my own memory stone. A place where I’ve poured my thoughts and emotions to preserve a piece of this journey. I can truly say it has been a delight.

And to anyone who has enjoyed even a single musing or insight along the way, thank you.

This is pack. 🐺

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