assassinsfate

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

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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. 🐺

Reactions from the Realm: Assassin’s Fate, Chapters 23 – 34

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Burn Baby Burn

***Spoilers for The Fitz and the Fool Trilogy through chapter 34 of Assassin’s Fate. Mentions of the events of The Farseer Trilogy, The Liveship Traders Trilogy, The Tawny Man Trilogy, and The Rain Wilds Chronicles are fair game, too.***

One quarter of Assassin’s Fate remains. Just one quarter of one sixteenth left in our entire journey.

And shit is going down.

The good news: Bee has set fire to Clerres and reunited with Fitz and company.

The bad news: It seems Vindeliar has knocked back a heavy dose of serpent spit and is exerting his control in the chaos to escape the inferno and reclaim Bee.

So we leave off with Fitz and Lant being Skillmatized to deliver Bee to Vindeliar and the Servants. Only Bee and Perseverance – Chekhov’s “impervious to Skill and dragons” – see through the ruse. And folks, this is Robin Hobb, so when we end on this dazed utterance from Fitz…

“All is well. We are safe now,”

…you know we are in danger.

It’s a dramatic place to pause, but it also feels like the right moment to take a breath, reflect on the setup, and then power through to the end 🥺.

Let’s get into it.

This entire trilogy, it has felt like all roads were leading to one place, and we have finally arrived: Clerres.

That’s really what this section is about: everyone finally converging on Clerres and setting the stage for whatever destiny awaits them there.

And Clerres is quite the final setpiece. It’s a bad time dressed up as a good time. A shiny house of cards hiding horrors beyond its gleaming halls.

Bee arrives first, and we get acquainted with the Four: Clerres’ creepy ass rulers.

Robin wastes no time bringing us up to speed on their brutality, as they sentence Dwalia to a horrifying forty lashes for her failures and losses on the quest for the unexpected son.

It’s an interesting scene, because we – like Bee – have been waiting to see Dwalia get her comeuppance. But even directed at Dwalia, that level of savagery is difficult to stomach. And we aren’t spared the gory details.

It’s gruesome, but it effectively clues us all in on what they are capable of. No one should feel safe or comfortable.

I’ve talked before about Robin Hobb’s gift for revisiting themes without ever feeling repetitive. And here once again I can’t help but think of the Ilistore and the eeriness of her ice palace on Aslevjal. Which makes sense. Illistore is of this ilk, from Clerres. The connective tissue helps make this new location feel instantly part of our established world.

So, we’re here. Clerres is queer. (It’s ok to use “queer” in the non-identity sense of the word, right?) And all that’s left is for Robin to do what Robin does best: unleash Fitz on a mission and let all hell break loose.

First up…

A New Assassin’s Apprentice? Aka Bee Stings…

Step aside, Fitz. There’s a new killer in the lineage. Bee steps into her role as the Destroyer – catchy! – not once, here, but twice.

First, she gets her revenge in a harrowing sequence in which Symphe smuggles her out of her cell, taking her to the dungeon where Dwalia and Vindeliar reside. Some spilled serpent spit elevates Bee’s capital s Skills, and allows her to mind command Dwalia to die:

“I spoke my word softly. ‘Die.’
And she did.”

Gnarly!

She also manages to take out Symphe, but makes a critical error leaving Vindeliar clinging to life.

So close. Again.

But Bee’s not done yet. As Vindeliar works to convince the remaining three head honchos that Bee is the killer, and needs to be killed, she realizes it’s now or never to make her move.

And her move is to burn Clerres to the ground.

This of course occurs at the exact time that Fitz is penetrating the stronghold. Vindeliar has received even more serpent spit and we seem to be headed for a battle of mind magic might.

Per, of course, saves the fucking day, first by pulling Bee from the smoky havoc, and now it appears his complete imperviousness to the dragon magic/Skill is going to be critical.

We finally have our Bee and Fitz reunion, but it’s amid so much burning chaos there is no time for any emotional relief or enjoyment.

And that’s where we leave off. The world is burning. The chapters are dwindling. The end is upon us.

Musings!

An Old Friend Returns

Prillkop’s back!

Bee conveniently gets tossed in a cell (and frankly, of all the imprisonment options Clerres has to offer, this one seems… not the worst) right next to our old friend Prillkop.

I really enjoyed Bee’s mystery cell neighbor talking to her, and the slow realization that it’s Prillkop on the other side of the wall.

I’m honestly not especially invested in his fate – he’s had a good run – and if anything, him slowing the gang down because they now feel compelled to rescue him too is kind of annoying.

But it was nice to have a familiar friend there for Bee in her moment of need. She might not have been able to fully trust him, but at least we knew he was on the good guys’ side.

It’s a small comfort. And at this point, we will take whatever comfort we can get.

Fool Goes Rogue

The plan to rescue Bee from Clerres is already about as shit as can be. And then the Fool drugs Fitz and Spark and sneaks off in the night on his own.

This was a great little subversion as, let’s be honest, this is exactly the sort of thing you’d expect Fitz to pull. (In fact, the whole Bee rescue mission began with Fitz drugging everyone and slipping away under the cover of night.).

In that sense, it only reinforces how they are one and the same. How mad can Fitz be when, given the chance, he would have done the same thing?

That said, it also feels especially foolhardy given, well… everything.

So the Fool reaches the cell block where Bee and Prillkop are imprisoned… and is immediately beaten and captured.

Round and round we go.

I love the Fool. I do. But tending him can be rather exhausting at times. Particularly this trilogy. 🫠

I’m going to need him to stay out of the way for approximately five minutes and let Fitz handle this one.

Motley!

I knew this bird was important.

And she shows up huge here. When all hope feels lost after Symphe’s death bars the entrance to Clerres, Per has the bright idea to send Motley on a Bee scouting mission.

Motley, of course, delivers. Not only does she confirm Bee is alive inside Clerres, she returns with the message that becomes the foundation for Plan B:

“A way out is a way in.”

But even before that critical bit of intel, Motley’s return becomes the tiny beacon of hope that pulls Fitz back from the edge of despair:

“I’d lost. I’d lost everything. I tried to think where it had all gone so wrong, and the answer was that it had begun with every decision I’d ever made, from the time I first said yes to Chade.
And then Per said, ‘Here she comes!’”

She might not be a Wit partner, but I am so glad we have an animal companion playing a meaningful role down the stretch.

It just wouldn’t feel like Fitz – or RotE- without one.

I love that, for essentially the entirety of our RotE experience, Fitz has been wading through metaphorical shit.

And now Robin brings his suffering full circle by making him wade through literal shit in order to reach Clerres. I suppose the only consolation is that he wasn’t alone on this particularly foul journey.

So yes, in order to infiltrate Clerres, the gang is forced to enter through the refuse outlet at low tide. It’s every bit as disgusting as it sounds. But this is Fitz on a mission, so there is nothing that will stop him.

I also love what this sequence says about Fitz as a leader.

His companions all have their own reasons for joining this quest, but at the end of the day, they are following him. Fitz has never thought of himself as a leader, yet he can’t avoid becoming head of the pack. He doesn’t need to command people, his quiet determination to get shit done sets the example.

He would never ask someone to do something he wouldn’t do himself. In fact, he’d prefer never to ask anything of anyone.

So despite his desire to lone wolf it at times, the pack follows.

Even if that means wading through shit and dead bodies.

One really beautiful, quiet moment.

As Bee uses her last remaining mementos of Molly – the beeswax candles she’s managed to carry with her all this way – to set fire to the Clerres records:

“’Goodbye, Mother,’ I said softly and set her last candle down on an oily scroll.”

Robin never moves on too quickly. She always finds ways to honor those who are gone while reminding us how deeply they continue to shape the story.

It’s such a moving line. In the middle of all the chaos and destruction, it tethers us to the little girl Bee was, carrying a piece of her beloved mother to the very end.

It’s been so lovely having the shadow of Nighteyes with Bee throughout her ordeal.

Really, any additional time with Nighteyes, even in spirit form, is a gift.

So I especially loved this mental reunion:

My brother. Where are we going?
More welcome than cool air or fresh water was the touch of Nighteyes on my mind. I felt my spirits lift and suddenly I knew now that everything would be fine.
Where have you been? I cried out to him. Why did you abandon me?
I was with the cub.

Nighteyes hasn’t abandoned Fitz. He’s simply gone where he was most needed within the pack. And exactly where Fitz would have wanted him.

And once again, we find ourselves back to one of the central ideas of this series: pack.

Who belongs to your pack? What do you owe them? What will you sacrifice for them?

It feels like those questions are becoming more and more central as we race toward the end. Not just for Fitz and the people he loves, but for the liveships, the Trader families, and really everyone converging on Clerres.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: Perseverance is such a real one.

And it’s not just me who feels that way. I loved this observation from Fitz as Perseverance continues to prove himself the ultimate ride-or-die:

“I had never done anything to deserve such a lad.”

🥹

Chekhov’s silver tube?

Ok, I know I’m leaning pretty hard on the whole “Chekhov’s ___” bit. But that’s only because we’ve finally reached the point where all the hints Robin has been laying along the way are ready to come into play.

We’ve got the fire brick. Chade’s explosives. Per’s Skill resistance. And on and on.

But perhaps the most intriguing setup of all is the pair of silver tubes Rapskal gifted Fitz back in Kelsingra.

At the moment, the Fool is in possession of one and Fitz has the other.

And they are about to square off against a serpent spit-enhanced mind controller.

I have a feeling we are going to see Fitz pull a Verity and become one with the silver.

The idea that I may never get to see Fitz hold his granddaughter on the page makes me want to cry.

But we do get this incredibly touching moment as Fitz learns through the Skill that Nettle has given birth to a baby girl, Hope.

“Hello, Grandfather!
For a moment Dutiful’s greeting made no sense. Then it did. The child is born?
Nettle’s Skilling was steady but her exhaustion leaked through. A girl. Queen Elliania is delighted. She has asked for the privilege of naming her. Riddle and I agreed. Hope. Her name is Hope.“

I want to have hope. But I’d like to think that, by this point in the series, I’ve gained at least a little wisdom.

The brief interaction with everyone back at Buckkeep – especially Thick – is just devastatingly sweet.

“I cannot be there, Thick, old friend, so perhaps you will set the menu to celebrate my grandchild! And eat my share of it for me?
I can do that. More cautiously, Can I try holding her?
I held my breath. With Nettle’s ears, I heard Riddle’s reply. ‘Of course you can! Two hands, Thick, just like for a puppy. No, hold her close to your body. So she feels safe in your strong arms.’
She is warm, like a puppy! And she smells like a new puppy! You are safe with me, baby. She’s looking at me. Look at her looking at me!
Elliania’s voice, fainter to my senses. She will grow up trusting you.
I wish I could be there. My heart rode with the thought.
Do not worry, Fitz. I will be her grandfather until you get home.
Thick’s offer was so sincere that all I could do was let him feel my gratitude. It came to me that perhaps my odd old friend would be a better grandfather than I could be.”

😭

I don’t think my heart can actually handle analyzing this passage any further. So… yeah.

I want to briefly call out a small line that perfectly captures Fitz’s trajectory, and his reluctant main character energy.

As his fate continues colliding with characters from across the realm, he reflects:

“My fate was a runaway horse, dragging destruction like a broken cart through so many lives.”

He didn’t choose this destiny, but he’s powerless to stop the ripples it leaves behind.

And it’s so extremely Fitz to focus on the wreckage rather than the lives he’s changed for the better.

Obviously this whole post has been about taking stock of the setup and looking ahead to the endgame.

And in that vein, I gotta be honest, I did not love this exchange between Fitz and Paragon:

“How do I die?
In water and fire, in wind and darkness. Not swiftly.“

Changer. Time to change.

We’ve been through Fitz deaths before, but we’ve always had more story waiting on the other side. Not this time.

The finality hanging over all of this is intimidating.

Whether the prophecy proves literal or something more metaphorical, it certainly feels like a death is approaching. An ending of some kind.

I shall be brave in the face of it.

Friends, what a journey it’s been! At times, it seemed like this moment would never get here, but it does appear that it’s time to land this plane. My fortieth birthday is just under two weeks away 😱, and I intend on entering this new decade having completed what I set out to do a little over a year ago. I’m excited to turn the literal and proverbial page.

See you at the end. 🫡

Reactions from the Realm: Assassin’s Fate, Chapters 14 – 22

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Two Princes

***Spoilers for The Fitz and the Fool Trilogy through chapter 22 of Assassin’s Fate. Mentions of the events of The Farseer Trilogy, The Liveship Traders Trilogy, The Tawny Man Trilogy, and The Rain Wilds Chronicles are fair game, too.***

We’ve crossed the halfway point of Assassin’s Fate. I can feel the walls starting to close in around me. Am I going to make it out of this alive? Time shall tell.

But my fate notwithstanding, one character definitely did not make it out alive: Chade.

Just as I predicted. Give or take eight books.

And interestingly, his death felt a bit underwhelming to me. Not because of any failing in Robin Hobb’s writing, but because Chade had already, in many ways, departed the story before his body finally caught up.

But still, it’s official. He won’t be Skilling himself back to health this time.

We probably should have known Chade’s arc was effectively over the moment he declared Fitz a master assassin, apprentice no more. (I may still have some questions about Fitz’s mastery of the profession, but it was a nice gesture.) Because ultimately, this is Fitz’s story, Chade’s role in it was mentor. Once that chapter closed, even if Chade lingered for a little while longer, his purpose in the narrative had largely been fulfilled.

There are shades of Burrich’s death here, too. Another father figure leaving the story apart from Fitz, with his biological child at his side. An interesting parallel. 🤔

I can’t say Chade’s death hit me particularly hard on an emotional level. But I do think his absence will matter. Fitz won’t be able to seek his advice anymore, and Chade won’t be there to explain things and quietly manipulate events from afar. But I suspect we’ll see his influence all the same, as Fitz carries Chade’s lessons with him into whatever awaits in Clerres.

(He’s also literally carrying Chade’s homemade explosives in his pack, and I have to assume those get involved down the stretch.)

I might never have been a huge fan of Chade personally, but I am certainly a huge fan of Chade as a character. I mean, what a character. Fantasy has its fair share of elderly, wizardly mentors, but Chade Fallstar is one of a kind.

And even if I never fully loved Chade, I deeply love someone who did: my number one boy, Fitz. So of course I felt the loss through him:

“I pulled my knees up tight to my chest and bowed my head over them. Chade’s boy wept.”

Pour out a potion for a real maverick.

Musings!

And from saying goodbye to the character with the longest history with Fitz, let’s pivot to the newest.

Girl.

If Captain Kennit was the ultimate red-flag-waving, “I can fix him” man (until he very much wasn’t), here comes his son to pick up where Dad left off.

Enter Prince Paragon Kennitson.

He’s clearly a spoiled, entitled, bragadocious brat. He saunters onto Paragon like he owns the place. (To be fair, he kinda does.) And I immediately was into him.

This time, it’s going to be different!!

But jokes aside, I am actually a bit hopeful that this time, things may in fact be different. We know Robin is willing to play the long game when it comes to arcs and redemption. Just think how much of Tawny Man serves as the conclusion to threads established way back in Farseer.

I spent a lot of time in Liveship Traders wondering where Kennit was heading. He had this perpetual “will he or won’t he break good?” quality hanging over him. And it was crushing to see him ultimately unable to escape his past and break the cycle of abuse.

But with the introduction of his son, I’m cautiously optimistic that Paragon Kennitson may prove to be the satisfying conclusion to Kennit’s story that Kennit himself could never be.

We already see him trying to prove himself. And we get ample reminders from Paragon (ship) and others that he is not his father. He has Kennit’s massive shadow (and tiny face!) looming over him, but I think we may see him ultimately emerge as his own man.

It seems like there will be some tests along the way. We already have the Spark flirtation and beginnings of a love triangle. But if Paragon Kennitson’s weakness is his ego, as it was for his father, I can think of no better parallel prince to have aboard as a role model than Fitz.

I could probably write an entire essay on how Fitz is the anti-Kennit: the subdued to his flashy, the humble to his prideful. If Kennit’s great weakness was that he needed everyone to see him as extraordinary, Fitz’s has always been almost the opposite.

So it’s certainly an interesting dynamic to have him paired with Kennit’s son.

We’ll see how he factors into the endgame. I said I’m hopeful he will be the satisfying conclusion we never got with Kennit, so he’s probably completely fucked.

Lant doesn’t really do it for me.

Which is funny because RotE is full of characters that I love, hate, hate to love, and love to hate. But Lant? He falls pretty flat for me.

He’s fine. But I cannot bring myself to be particularly interested in him. He doesn’t bring any especially compelling skills or qualities to the table, and his motivations for being on this expedition don’t really move me.

He wants to prove himself to his deadbeat father and make up for how he failed Bee? Cool.

I’m not exactly forgetting what a chode you were to Bee back at Withywoods.

And if I’m being honest, the Spark-Lant romance feels pretty shoehorned in. Their chemistry isn’t exactly leaping off the page.

I suppose I should just be grateful he’s moving on from his sister.

But in contrast, you’ve got Perseverance, and I couldn’t feel more differently about him.

He’s as charming as can be. And has chemistry with everyone he encounters, from deckhands to crows.

The two make a fascinating pair. Lant is all insecurity and the need to prove himself, while Per is defined by warmth, curiosity and sincerity. It’s a contrast established way back in their earliest interactions with Bee at Withywoods.

And perhaps there’s something interesting there about upbringing, station, and parentage.

All that to say: sorry, Lant. You’ve inherited my dislike for Chade without inheriting my appreciation for what Chade brings to the table.

Time for some hot prophecy talk.

Listen, full disclosure, I’ve had a bit more space between reading and reacting than normal thanks to vacation, illness, and life. (Can I claim perimenopause without losing all of my loyal follower?). So I worry I’m not going to do justice to some of the massive revelations in this section, particularly when it comes to histories, lore, and prophetic dreams.

So bear with me.

Anyway, I do at least recall Spark letting Fitz know that the Fool has been dreaming of his death.

Which understandably alarms her, but for us – and for Fitz – this feels like old news.

Like, let me know when the Fool isn’t predicting Fitz’s death.

But I did love Fitz’s response as he tries to calm her fears:

“I managed a crooked smile. ‘Remember, when he is the prophet, I am the Catalyst. The Changer. I have no intention of dying or letting anyone else die.'”

There is just something about him asserting those roles that gets me absolutely activated.

The Catalyst. The Changer.

Fuck yes. Clerres is about to learn.

What’s going on with Motley?

Motley is all over the place. Befriending dragons. Getting chummy with Paragon. Being sassy with Fitz.

She catches up to Paragon after they set sail from Divvytown and makes quite the entrance:

“I stared at her. The tip of her beak was silver.”
…
“Be careful with your beak,” I chided her. She turned her shining eyes on me. “I am careful, stupid Fitz. But so tired. Take me to Paragon.”

Motley remains such an interesting addition to the animal cadre of this series. Curious if she ends up more than a pithy lookout.

(Side note: I love how Motley will respond with absurd specificity and then Fitz will wonder if she possesses some higher level of awareness. Uhhh, ya think?)

Truly, I don’t want to reduce the horrors Paragon has endured – both in his creation and all that’s happened aboard him – to mere comedy.

But if there is one thing we can count on in this series, it’s that Paragon is going to be an emotional hot mess.

And he really delivers here. Throwing full-on temper tantrums. Lodging doors shut. Listing dramatically. Making every task ten times harder than it needs to be. Just generally refusing to cooperate.

It’s great.

He never fails to remind everyone aboard that, while his dragon spirit may be trapped in a boat, it cannot be brought to heel.

Love you, Mad Ship.

And speaking of Paragon, I don’t want to skate past the monumental revelation that Amber gives him Silver, prompting him to declare his intention to turn dragon.

The idea of Paragon shedding his ship form and taking to the skies is mind-blowing. And beyond the feat of magic, the ramifications for the liveship families are fascinating. These aren’t just ships, they are their inheritance and legacy.

All that to say, wild development. And fascinating to think we may end up seeing the liveships we’ve come to know fulfill their intended forms. Or even have to grapple with whether they want to at all.

I have to touch down on the insane Paragon-Vivacia scene.

A long time ago, with the reveal of ShipFitz, I noted that Vivacia better watch out. A new bombshell had entered the harbor.

Paragon may share Fitz’s face, but he certainly doesn’t share his demure.

So when he gets the opportunity, under the cover of night to sidle up to Vivacia, he makes his move. Now, his primary motivation is to proselytize Vivacia to his beliefs on transforming into dragons. But his methods are absolutely wild. (Would we expect anything else?)

“Paragon’s laugh boomed out over the cacophony, silencing them all. Except Vivacia. ‘Get him away from me!’ Vivacia barked her command. But Paragon only shifted his grip to the curls on the back of her head and bent her backward so that her bare breasts thrust up toward him. To my astonishment, he leaned down and kissed one.”

Paragon, baby.

This is unhinged. (I was going to say “even for you,” but having some knowledge of your past, honestly, not really.)

So he gets her attention and makes his pitch: We can become dragons and mates. It’s perfect!

After the initial insanity of their interaction, it does turn rather tender. Paragon helps Vivacia tap deep into her dragon memory, and we are left with this image of them:

“…they embraced as closely as they could, as if they were lovers denied intimacy for too long. Vivacia’s head rested on Paragon’s scaled chest, her eyes wide but unseeing. His longer neck had twined around her like a scarf and his dragon’s head rested on her shoulder. Her graceful hands rested on his shoulders. No enmity or uncertainty showed in her face.”

I have no clue what the future holds for these two crazy, sentient, trapped-dragon-spirit ships, but I’m certainly excited for where they end up.

One thing I love about the liveships (which are among the most interesting elements in the entire series) is that lesser stories may have relegated them to the role of interesting magical curiosities. Cool set pieces. Memorable side characters.

Not Robin Hobb.

These ships are legit central characters. And if I had any lingering doubts before, Fitz and the Fool has erased them. As these stories converge, it’s become clear that Paragon isn’t just an important supporting player.

Paragon has major main character energy.

Okay. So I really wanted to write about the interesting magic happening in this section. Liveships transforming into dragons. Serpent spit giving Vindelier his power. Silver. Skill. Prophet dreams.

But my energy and brainpower are waning.

One day, perhaps, I will return with a bit more gas in the tank and write a gorgeous essay on the intersecting magics of this series.

But for now, just imagine I have delivered some breathtaking observations on Robin Hobb’s magical ecosystem.

What I will say is that I love how all of these different magics have been so beautifully built and developed across sixteen books. And what once may have felt like separate systems now feel like interconnected pieces of a living world. And I’m incredibly excited to see how they factor into the endgame.

Especially as Bee begins to tap into the Skill and briefly makes contact with Fitz. 👀

I’m equally curious how the Wit factors into things. The Skill may get a little more time in the spotlight, but the Wit has always felt like such a core Fitz magic.

So, yeah. Magic. 🪄

Bee’s harrowing journey continues.

Once again, we’re given a sliver of hope when Bee manages to escape Dwalia on the first ship and link up with Trader Akriel. Finally, it seems she’s found a genuinely decent person and, if not on her way home, at least out of immediate danger.

But the whole Bee-Trader Akriel sojourn is clouded by a sense of doom. It’s nice to get a reprieve from the sheer horror of Bee’s captivity with the Servants, but we know we aren’t done with them yet.

So, Hobb being Hobb, she takes us to our most hopeful point yet. Bee is off the ship and settled into a luxurious inn room. It’s the safest and most comfortable she’s been since Withywoods.

Which, naturally, makes it the perfect time for Dwalia and company to track her down, have Kerf brutally murder Trader Akriel, and drag Bee right back into the nightmare.

They even cast off Kerf to deal with the aftermath, leaving only Dwalia and Vindelier escorting Bee. And if they were awful before, they have fully crossed over into monstrosity.

After some time on the run, Dwalia has Vindelier glamour her into a beautiful woman to charm a captain and secure passage to Clerres. Strong Ursula-as-Vanessa seducing Prince Eric vibes.

I’m not going to dwell too much on everything that follows. More abuse. Mind-to-mind revelations. The source of Vindelier’s power explained.

I’m kinda hoping for the glamour to wear off at the worst possible moment and for the captain to get a look at who he’s been knocking boots with this whole voyage 🤢.

We know the serpent spit is running low. Are they going to reach their destination without one final disaster?

Whatever happens, I just need this cursed journey to end. Shit’s rough.

Y’all, I’m really limping to the finish line here. But I’m not getting out of this post without (probably inadequately) discussing the dragons.

I absolutely loved this chapter ending:

“There you are! Satisfaction rang in the voice in my head. I am coming for you. Prepare for me.

‘Fitz?’ Lant asked, concern in his voice.

I stood slowly. My smile held back my fear and confusion. ‘Tintaglia is coming for me,’ I said.”

Something about Fitz effortlessly having standing with the dragons is just deeply satisfying to me. He’s just that girl.

And sure enough, Tintaglia arrives in Divvytown with Heeby and Rapskal close behind, causing quite the stir.

Ultimately, they all join Team “Fuck up Clerres.” But not before the dragons take a little vengeance side quest to Others Island. (Fun!)

This is great. But it also puts Fitz’s mission to rescue Bee on a timer. Everyone knows once the dragons arrive in force, carefully distinguishing between guilty and innocent parties won’t be their priority.

Tick, tock.

The game board is taking shape. The pieces are getting into place. Now all that’s left is to find out how it all goes down.

Reactions from the Realm: Assassin’s Fate, Prologue – Chapter 13

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✨ Manifest ✨

***Spoilers for The Fitz and the Fool Trilogy through chapter 13 of Assassin’s Fate. Mentions of the events of The Farseer Trilogy, The Liveship Traders Trilogy, The Tawny Man Trilogy, and The Rain Wilds Chronicles are fair game, too.***

Ask and ye shall receive. And receive, I have.

This is it, folks. The last time we will start a Realm of the Elderlings novel together. With Assassin’s Fate, our journey ends. (At least this particular iteration of it.)

I’m about one-third of the way through, and I’m already overwhelmed. If I was excited for Fitz to be chopping it up with Reyn and Malta in Kelsingra, you can probably imagine the excitement I had when Fitz first set foot on Tarman (!!!) and then, finally, stepped aboard Paragon.

I’m not sure how many times I’ve voiced my desire for Fitz to sail on Paragon, or as I prefer: ShipFitz, but what a moment to see it finally come to fruition.

And I mean, Paragon glaring at Fitz and informing him he’s the handsomer one? It’s like I won the lottery.

But that’s also what has astonished me the most as we begin this final ride: Robin Hobb’s beautiful patience as a storyteller. We’ve well covered her masterful character work and gorgeous prose. But I think her patience may be the unsung hero of her writing. That is, for readers willing to trust her and stay the course.

I noted previously that the series is called Realm of the Elderlings, yet we don’t really meet Elderlings in any meaningful way until the fourth subseries. As she explores different magics, cultures, histories, and corners of the map, she never rushes to force ideas together before their time.

Let’s examine:

First we leave Fitz entirely and move into Liveship Traders. Most of this trilogy feels almost completely separate from the events of Farseer. We get little drips and drabs, small connections and easter eggs hinting at the broader realm. It’s really not until fairly late in Ship of Destiny that the connective tissue becomes more overt. And depending on your level of observation, you realize some of it has been hidden in plain sight. (Fear not. I will be going deep into that particular connective tissue shortly).

Then we return to Fitz in Tawny Man. Again, I was excited to see the world expansion from Liveships collide with Fitz’s story. And in some ways it does. The events of Liveship Traders matter tremendously, but it still feels like one story influencing another rather than the two worlds truly colliding. Even with all the new characters and world aspects at her disposal, we never feel like Robin is rushing to smash all the toys together just because she can.

And that patience extends to Fitz’s own story. She takes her sweet time tying up loose ends started way back in Farseer. Consider Fitz and Molly. She dangles their reunion for many, many books before paying it off.

I don’t think many authors would have the confidence, or restraint, to wait that long. She – rightfully! – trusts in her characters and storytelling. And it makes for a richer, more grounded reading experience, with payoffs that feel all the more earned and satisfying.

Then comes Rain Wilds Chronicles. Interestingly, it manages to do both things at once. It’s a continuation of everything that came before, but also very much its own story. New characters. New problems. New corners of the world. We again find ourselves looking for connections and excited when old friends pop up and weave into the story.

Robin keeps expanding outward. Not vertically, with one block stacked directly atop another, but in every direction at once. Deepening existing ideas while continually broadening the scope of the world.

So here we are in Fitz and the Fool.

Does she suddenly abandon that approach because we’re entering the final trilogy? Absolutely not. Right back to her bread and butter: continue to build. Every piece meticulously placed until the larger mosaic begins to reveal itself.

And while at times it can feel sprawling, all of these pieces actually do fit together.

Fitz. The Fool. Amber. Reyn. Malta. Tintaglia. Kettricken. Chade. Rapskal. Alise. Leftrin. Tarman. Lant. Perseverance. Dutiful. Paragon. Althea. Brashen. And countless others. They are all part of this. A truly remarkable masterpiece.

This is so thrilling. And not just convergence for the sake of it, like the Jetsons meeting the Flintstones. Robin spent sixteen books building a world. So when all the threads finally start weaving together, every piece suddenly feels even more meaningful. And it’s the sweetest reward for going on this journey.

And I’ve not even finished it yet. (We haven’t even visited Wintrow and Queen Etta for crying out loud!)

Not that RotE has to be everyone’s cup of tea, but whenever I see someone contemplating if they should continue past Farseer, or especially those who ask whether they need to read Liveships and RWC, I feel a deep longing to convey why my answer is such an emphatic yes. These series aren’t homework or simply important lore so you’ll understand the plot later. But the sum of the parts becomes something greater than any individual piece. And the individual pieces are already pretty fucking phenomenal.

I’m starting to lose where I’m going with all of this, but bottom line: getting to this moment in Assassin’s Fate is so incredibly gratifying.

I have a feeling every post for Assassin’s Fate will have some degree of retrospection and celebration. And while it’s futile to speculate where I’ll be at the end, I have some suspicion of what (or who) may be occupying my attention. So for now, getting to celebrate the sheer craftsmanship of plot and storytelling, as all these worlds finally begin to collide, feels right.

Moving on:

Not only are worlds colliding, but so are identities. Specifically, the Fool and Amber.

As the various corners of the Realm finally begin to converge, so too do the many faces of our resident series-spanner. And watching Robin Hobb handle this has been one of the more fascinating aspects of Assassin’s Fate thus far.

I’ve often found myself getting a bit tangled when it comes to shifting identities. (See: ShunShine.) So it was oddly gratifying to watch Robin lean fully into the complexity of the Fool/Amber dynamic, sometimes switching from one to the other almost moment to moment:

“He smoothed his hair and flounced his skirts into order, and the Fool was gone. Amber trailed her fingers along the wall until she found the door and then left me sitting alone on the narrow bunk.”

It’s a trip to witness alongside Fitz. Because this isn’t merely a change of clothes and a bit of rouge on the cheeks. It’s a complete embodiment. Amber is every bit as real as the Fool.

And Robin doesn’t shy away from how complicated that can be. We see a parallel version of this through Perseverance’s attempts to understand Spark and Ash. And through that confusion, we get a lovely glimpse of how much Fitz has changed over the years.

“About Mage Gray. Sometimes you call him Fool, but he’s being Lady Amber now.”

“He is…”

“And Ash is Spark now.”

I nodded. “True, also.”

“And Spark is a girl.”

I nodded again.

… “Do you feel at all…odd about it? Uncomfortable?”

I laughed. “I’ve known him for many years, in many guises. He was King Shrewd’s jester when I was a boy. The Fool. Then Lord Golden. Mage Gray. And now Lady Amber. All different. Yet always my friend.” I reached for honesty. “But when I was your age, it would have bothered me a great deal. It doesn’t now because I know who he is. And who I am, and who we are to each other. That doesn’t change, no matter what name he wears or what garb he dons. Whether I am Holder Tom Badgerlock or Prince FitzChivalry Farseer, I know he’s my friend.”

It’s impossible not to think back to Golden Fool and Fitz’s reaction to learning about Amber. Or to imagine how much a younger Fitz would have struggled if confronted with both the Fool and Amber at that time. But Fitz has been through a lot. (Don’t we fucking know it.) And one of the gifts of that hard-earned wisdom is the ability to cut directly to what matters.

And It’s beautiful to see him pass that wisdom on to Perseverance.

Because let’s be honest: to these young men, who is manlier than Holder Badgerlock/Witted Bastard Prince Fitzchivalry Farseer himself? We are so entwined with Fitz’s inner vulnerabilities and insecurities that it’s easy to forget how others must see him from the outside. He’s a war hero. A prince. An assassin. A dragon-saver. A mythical wolf-man. The man has quite the résumé of badassery!

So there is something lovely about Fitz modeling a kind of quiet confidence for Per and Lant. He isn’t threatened by who the Fool is because he knows who the Fool is. And he isn’t threatened by it because he knows who he is.

[Note: I am not especially interested in diving deep into how this material intersects with modern discussions of gender identity. Not because it isn’t worthy of examination – it absolutely is – but because I don’t feel particularly equipped to do that conversation justice in this space. Still, it feels worth acknowledging. (And I’m sure there is some fantastic analysis and discussion out on this topic.)]

What’s especially fascinating is that I found myself going through a version of the same process.

I spent three entire books with Amber in Liveship Traders largely oblivious to the fact that she was also the Fool. (I started to catch on near the end, but still needed her to ride into Fool’s Errand on a horse named Malta to fully get it).

As a result, I ended up with two separate characters living in my head. I understand intellectually that Amber and the Fool are the same person. But emotionally, I’ve never quite managed to merge them.

That finally began to change when we arrived on Paragon. When Paragon gently scooped Amber into his hands – echoing one of their final moments together in Ship of Destiny (among the most beautiful scenes in all of RotE) – something clicked.

It’s such a powerful visual, and their relationship was so poignant, that I experienced this sudden flood of memory. It brought me back to Amber as we knew her many books ago. For the first time, it felt as though both Amber and the Fool were simultaneously present on the page.

So perhaps it’s just another byproduct of the much-discussed convergence happening throughout the final trilogy. But it’s truly remarkable to watch. Not only are the worlds finally coming together, so too are the faces of one of Robin Hobb’s most extraordinary characters.

Musings!

I hope you didn’t think that was all you were getting on the Fitz and Paragon interaction??

I opened with my excitement about Fitz boarding Paragon and coming face to face with his, well… face. But I kind of skimmed past it to get to the broader theme of patience and payoff, so I want to give some space to the actual encounter, which absolutely did not disappoint.

As Fitz has traveled to Kelsingra and then deeper into the Rain Wilds territory, we’ve had a few characters familiar with the Paragon masthead subtly react to meeting Fitz. And as we crept closer down the river, the excitement ratcheted up.

So when Paragon finally comes into view, and Fitz gets his first look at what Amber carved, I was practically vibrating.

‘I stared at the ship, my mouth hanging open. Spark and Perseverance looked from the ship to me. I was speechless, but Lant spoke the words aloud. ‘Sweet Eda. Fitz, he has your face. Right down to the break in your nose.'”

Sweet Eda indeed!

But the best moments are when we actually get to interact with Paragon. He is as emotional (unstable?) as ever. Extremely put out that Althea and Brashen’s son has gone to work on Vivacia, without an exchange of Etta’s son to his decks in return. Everyone’s about to leave this first encounter, when Paragon calls out:

“You, with my face. Don’t go.”

🤌

But it gets even better. Paragon tricks Fitz into getting within reach (classic “sorry, I didn’t hear you move”), then seizes him and pins him to the railing.

(I’m going to do my best not to get extremely weird about this, but I will desperately be needing some fanart of ShipFitz manhandling FitzFitz.)

ShipFitz ultimately just wants a little man-to-man chat with Fitz:

“Understand this. We share a face, though mine is more youthful and handsomer. I asked her to carve me a face she could love. She gave me yours. But it was ‘could’ love, not ‘did’ love. Remember that. She loves me far more than you. She always will.”

Oh, Paragon. You moody nut, you.

When I first joked about Fitz sailing on Paragon, I don’t think I could have imagined it coming to fruition so spectacularly. We didn’t just get a moment of “oh, the ship looks just like me, isn’t that something?” No, we get Fitz and ShipFitz having full-on beef.

Thank you, Robin.

Since I was so harsh on Reyn and Malta for losing control of the situation and the end of Fool’s Quest, I should probably give them a little credit. Because when we return to the chaos, they intervene right away:

“Rapskal, stop being an imbecile!” That was King Reyn adding his roar to the din.

I also noted that Rapskal was a bit out of his depth when it came to the larger dynamics at play, which I appreciated Amber reinforcing:

“There was Silver on my fingers before you were born, I believe, General Rapskal.”

To Rapskal’s credit, once Heeby lets him know that the mission to take down Clerres aligns quite nicely with dragon interests, he comes around quickly. He even goes so far as to gift Fitz with the vials of pure silver the Fool requested after previously firmly refusing. (Which Fitz then keeps to himself, because withholding potentially important information has historically worked out so well for everyone involved. Also, Chekhov’s silver??)

So we leave Kelsingra on much friendlier terms, but I have a feeling this isn’t the last time Fitz and Rapskal will cross paths. Rapskal makes it clear that he’s available to help the cause however he can, and we know he stays ready to ride his dragon into battle.

Which, unfortunately, makes me quite worried about him. We’ve already lost a fair bit of the Rapskal we first met. When I start looking around at potential casualties of war in the fight we know awaits us, he’s landing high on the list. (Good news for him, my death predictions are notoriously awful and this isn’t even the first time I predicted his demise in battle!)

Hey guys: Dwalia is a stone-cold BITCH. Like… damn!

They emerge from the pillar and her signature mask of niceness is gone. She is fucking ruthless. She’s abusive to Bee and her own party members, both physically and verbally.

I mean, take this line she hurls at Vindelier:

“Trust a sexless lout like you not to be able to tell the Unexpected Son from some White’s by-blow.”

Jesus.

So Bee’s situation has gone from bad to worse. We keep getting little flashes of hope that Bee might escape, but every time, she ends up back under Dwalia’s control. With Vindelier at her disposal, and Bee possessing virtually no resources of her own, there is simply no real way for her to escape.

One additional important Dwalia revelation: we learn of her connection to Ilistore (the pale woman has a name!). Apparently Dwalia and Ilistore were involved back in Clerres when the Fool and Ilistore were both students there. Dwalia blames the Fool for Ilistore’s demise, which explains the intensity of her hatred. I’m very much looking forward to her comeuppance.

I’ve touched on Bee’s situation a bit already, but her trials deserve a little more space.

We get a very interesting interlude in Chalced. After exiting the pillar into a cramped space of ruins (we’ve heard so much musing of what would happen if a pillar exit was blocked, it was satisfying – and horrifying – to see this play out), Bee is able to escape Dwalia and co. and lives on the run for a few days.

As hopeful as it was to see Bee escape her captors, Robin immediately confronts us with the reality of what that actually means for a child alone in a harsh, foreign land. She has nothing and no allies. She can’t even communicate to plead for help. She reaches the point where theft becomes her only way to eat, which lands her in jail and then right back into her captors’ hands.

This was fucking bleak.

I was desperate for Bee to get just one break. One thing to go her way. Of course it wasn’t going to happen. But it was nice to have a moment of delusion.

And so we end with Bee back on the path to Clerres, trapped aboard a ship of nightmares. You know shit’s bad when you are kind of just hoping the ship will sink 🥴.

Lord, please give me one moment of peace and healing between Fitz and Bee before this is all through.

I’d like to give a little space to Molly: gone, but certainly not forgotten.

I sometimes get the sense that Molly receives a bit of the short shift in the fandom. (At least from the limited bit I’ve encountered in my quest to avoid spoilers). But in keeping with her track record of never moving quickly past a loss, Robin does an excellent job ensuring Molly’s presence remains deeply felt long after her death. Not only through Fitz’s ongoing grief, but through the continued significance of her memory.

We have the candles that Fitz brought from home and Bee later finds in the Bear wreckage, creating this beautiful connection between all three of them. Scent is so powerfully tied to memory, and I love the way it repeatedly evokes Molly’s spirit for both Bee and Fitz.

And I especially love how Robin handles Fitz’s struggle with sharing Bee’s parentage with the Fool without allowing Molly to be erased in the process.

First we get the tense scene where the Fool has Spark dig through Fitz’s pack for Bee’s journals. It’s an incredibly charged moment, but ultimately Fitz relents and shares Bee’s dreams with him.

Then we get the scene where Amber recounts their story to Althea and Brashen:

“It hurt to hear Amber claim Bee that way, and I knew what Althea and Brashen must assume. The Fool might believe it was so, but to hear him speak of her that way to strangers wounded something in me. Molly, I thought fiercely. She had been Bee’s mother and no other. I did not wish these people to think I had fathered Bee upon Amber. No, Molly had been the one to endure that pregnancy, in some ways so alone, and Molly had been the one to cherish and protect a child that others would have let dwindle away. It wasn’t right for Amber to erase her.”

This is such a fascinating collision of several complicated ideas at once.

It’s difficult enough for Fitz to process sharing Bee’s parentage with the Fool. Bee is the child he raised with Molly, and then on his own. But hearing that claim come from Amber introduces another level entirely.

Because now strangers could easily assume that Amber was Bee’s mother. And doing so erases Molly from the equation altogether. And that is unacceptable (and frankly offensive) for Fitz and for me.

Whatever strange White Prophet soul-merging magic may have occurred, Molly carried Bee. She protected her and loved her fiercely.

Kudos to Fitz for never letting us forget that.

I’d also like to use this space to acknowledge one particularly lovely Molly-related moment. While Fitz is recovering from Skill-exhaustion, he overhears a conversation between Lant and Perseverance. When Lant mentions Buckkeep rumors of Fitz’s interest in men, Per bursts out in laughter:

“Him? Not him. There was only one for him. Lady Molly. It was always a joke among the servants at Withywoods.” He laughed again and then gasped, “ ‘Knock twice,’ the kitchen maids would giggle. ‘And then wait and knock again. Never go in until one of them invites you. You never know where they will be going at each other.’ The men of the estate were proud of him. ‘That old stud hasn’t lost his fire,’ they’d say. In his study. In the gardens. Out in the orchards.”

As Per continues to recount the Withywoods estate gossip surrounding Fitz and Molly’s very active marriage, Fitz drifts into fond memories of Molly while Per defends his reputation.

In an often heavy book, I found this moment very sweet.

And it’s nice to see someone push back against the rumors and misconceptions that often follow him.

It also reminds us that Withywoods was a real home. The people there knew Fitz. Not the prince. Not the assassin. Not the catalyst. Just a man hopelessly in love with his wife.

(Also, I now need a novella of Molly and Fitz getting it on all around the estate.)

Okay. Since there is really so much I could touch on, but I want to keep moving forward, I’m going to create another quick-hit section where I do none of the topics justice, but at least manage to acknowledge them:

  • We learn in passing that Carson and Sedric are raising Jerd’s baby. Love that for them 🥹.
  • A small detail I’ve really enjoyed is the clash of cultures between Buckkeep’s more traditional, hierarchical customs and the much more egalitarian Trader ways. Fitz is frequently taken aback by how casual the interactions are and the general lack of formality. It’s just another example of Robin creating such a vivid, lived-in world.
  • Another small detail I loved was getting to witness Fitz encounter the treetop cities and dwellings of the Rain Wilds for the first time. It was such a mirror to my own experience, and just cool to watch this foreign, almost mythical region unveil itself to him.
  • I can’t believe I am going to make this a bullet point, but there is so much Clerres lore and the Fool backstory given to us in this section (right down to a detailed discussion of the island schematics), and I truly don’t have the energy to untangle all of it. But we do at least learn about the four head honchos living in their four precarious towers, so it seems we’ve identified our big bads.
  • Speaking of lore, there is A LOT of prophecy and dream information about what’s to come on Clerres. We have a new Fitz persona – “the Destroyer” (hot) – unveiled. Plus, it seems like Bee is going to burn it all down in one fashion or another. Again, I enjoy the prophecy elements, but I don’t get too deep into analyzing. I mostly absorb what I can in one pass and keep it moving.
  • This is also criminal to reduce to a bullet point, but I’m quickly losing steam and need to touch on Fitz versus dragons.

    We get an absolutely epic showdown between Fitz and Tintaglia, where he comes dangerously close to becoming a dragon snack. Fitz and Tarman also share an interesting connection. Through it, we learn the source of the mystery dragon essence the other dragons keep detecting. And it’s not the Fool carrying it. It’s Fitz’s connection to Verity-as-dragon.

    We’ve been getting lots of Verity breadcrumbs lately. While I may have been inclined to view that last interaction between Fitz and Verity-as-dragon as closure, I’m not going to be shocked if he wakes his ass up to help out before this is all over.

I need to close out with where we leave Fitz and the Fool. Fitz is having a full-on panic attack about what awaits them, his own failures, and who he’s dragging into this mess with him. Fitz convinced he’s not good enough and the Fool basically saying, “Yeah, we may die. But what else is new?”

It’s classic Fitz and the Fool.

And in his effort to ground Fitz, he reaches for what will most bring him back to himself: Nighteyes. Specifically, how he chose to live to his very end:

“This is our last hunt, old wolf. And as we always have, we go to it together.”

Am I supposed to be ok?

Onward.