*spoilers for Checkmate, Lymond Chronicles

I was walking (part of my work involves a lot of walking) and then I suddenly recalled something from Lymond -- and I realise I do this a lot. Beautiful pieces of literature that I have subconsciously consumed at some point earlier in life, are evoked later in my mind, after an experience, or on reflection. And that's the mark of good art, isn't it. That they are only deeply understood over time, and with maturity.

The famous Lymond-Philippa confrontation scene that I love has a line that always stuck with me, that as a 15-year-old, I perhaps could not fully appreciate. But then now, it suddenly took on a fuller dimension; oh, Lymond, I do hate and love him at the same time. It's frustrating, but I get him here; I really do. He's right, isn't he? It makes me realise that that whole period of time might have been quite worse for Lymond than Philippa although on the surface, he was such an ass to her. I mean, of course, wonderfully, it appears he was wrong about Philippa, but his fear is legitimate. I want to cry thinking about it.

"Do you know, Philippa, what an unsuitable match is? It isn't the kind I shall have with Catherine d'Albon, or even the kind you'll make with young Allendale. When one human being is trapped in the net of another's grand passion: then it comes about, and it is tragedy. It happened to Gavin and Sybilla. It is happening to Jerott and Marthe..."

"I had no expectations," Philippa said. The tears stood still on her face. "This is one lesson I know by heart already."

Of course, Philippa had to wrap her head around the fact that Lymond was talking about himself, not her; goodness, this unbelievably confusing and frustrating man. But however convoluted it all was, I'm so happy it ended well; these two will eternally be my favourite fictional couple.

And as I was hunting for the above quote, I brushed over certain other portions of the book, and I realise how much I love Philippa. I really think I do love Philippa more than Lymond. I don't know. I love her so much, seriously. She is a beautiful character; just so much pluck and love in all of her being.

Like this adorable bit, when Philippa hilariously quells Piero Strozzi's bluntness about attempting to ask Lymond about his 'son' by stomping on his foot -- it's her way of politely saying, shut up don't you dare ask that of Lymond, you insensitive block-headed person! I literally said out loud, "Ohmygod, I love you, Philippa." The things she does that speak of her love for other people, and the courage she has to do it, in service of that love and of honour and of dignity.

(Lymond has a soft moment where he decides to help one of the struggling serving boys during a royal banquet) This made me laugh but also gave me such fuzzy feelings of love for her:

"Oh Christ, he's going to spill jelly all over us" He switched to French. "I see, mon cher, you carry this as the King's pages do. I know a better way. Hold it thus, and thus. You see? And smile. The King likes smiling faces."

Piero Strozzi closed his mouth, which had fallen ajar. "Of course," he said. "You have a son, don't..."

He roared. "I beg your pardon. My foot slipped," said Philippa. "Have a date flan, and don't talk so much while the hautboys are playing. If you lose your voice, none of us will know what to do."

And this bit as well, makes me love Philippa even more (it's far too hard to explain the context; if you read Checkmate, you'd know this highly-charged scene, instigated by Marthe -- another character that evokes such conflicting feelings in me):

"Look at her," to her brother. "You drunken fool, why do you think she follows you? To be lectured, to take arms, to care for your bastards? She loves you. She's ripe for you. What have you to lose? Embrace her. Then take her home and see if I am right or not," Her voice thickened. "Remember me?" she said. "The marriage will stand."

Philippa dropped her hands and turning, walked to the fireplace. "Thank you," she said to the wall.

Face to face, Francis Crawford and his sister looked at one another.

"And thank you from me," said Lymond pleasantly. "You are an expert in love? In morality? In Christian conscience? How? From the stews of a fortune-teller's in Lyon? From your years as a Muslim, scouring the Levant for money? From your marriage to --"

"Stop it," said Philippa. She had turned.

"...from your marriage to Jerott?" Lymond said. "Go on. Be our guide. Look about. What other paramours can you find for me, sister?"

"Stop it!" said Philippa, at the top of her voice this time. She faced them, breathing quickly. "None of you knows what you're doing. Be quiet. If nothing will end it but someone's pride being broken, then as usual, it had better be mine. Mr Crawford, I am sorry to be lacking a beard, but if you will briefly be Jason, I shall do what I can with Medea. With the utmost distaste, let us embrace one another."

---

And in the spirit of giving tribute to my favourite fictional heroes, 

here's another:

Dean Winchester!

(I am about to start Season 13 soon....)

LYMOND SPAZ (There are major spoilers ahead, if you care.)

So. I had like 2 and a half hours of sleep last night because I was reading Lymond. At first, I was reading Ringed Castle. About a quarter way through, I reached the Lymond/Guzel part, which kind of blew me away (although, yes, it's not like it's the first time I'm reading this). I remember saying to myself: Nobody can write sex like Dunnett. Haha, really. I mean, how can it seem like such beautiful prose and at the same time, be so... nyeeah, there's no other word - erotic?

Here's part of it (the paragraph before this, although written beautifully as well, was more explicit and uh... this blog was never meant to go beyond PG-13, so am excluding that):

Her needs over the years had become complex. Her passions, over the years, had found such force that one fulfillment could hardly assuage them. Couch to cushion to carpet became soft and desperate stations, moving from urging to torment to investment once again. And with an odd, detached insight, giving and withholding, exciting and loitering, he knew how to find her appetite, and force it into violence and withstand it without mercy, until she was aware of nothing in the world but her famine. And then of nothing in the world but the exquisite act which occluded it. And towards dawn hunger, fed and fed, at last allowed her to lie dispossessed in dreaming calm, satisfied.

So after reading that, I was like this @_@ and I felt a crazy impulse to just get to the Lymond/Philippa parts instead. Because hello, Lymond/Philippa is the ultimate fictional OTP. HANDS DOWN. And their love is heart-wrenching and beautiful and inspiring and ohmygod, I was desperate for beautiful quotes about their love! So, then I started flipping the pages of Ringed Castle speedily, stopping only when Lymond's and Philippa's names were spotted within a page of each other and scanning for the good parts and devouring them.

And when I reached the last page of Ringed Castle, I still wasn't satisfied and so I traipsed down to the bookshelves at 4 am to get the next volume - Checkmate - and continue my quest for Lymond/Philippa. My eyes were almost burning from tiredness actually, but I was caught in some crazy OTP fever or something and couldn't stop. And oh god, Checkmate is awesome for the love quotes. When I read the part where Philippa realises she loves Lymond but cannot dream of being with him (thinking he loves Guzel, and his adamancy about returning to Russia, among one million other reasons), I wanted to cry. It was heartbreaking.

Subconsciously, she had divined what he might be. That night, turned upon herself and not outward to others, the elements of his identity had been delivered to her, served upon gold, as the bread and meat and wine of a festival.

For an hour, blended with all she could offer, something noble had been created which had nothing to do with the physical world. And from the turn of his throat, the warmth of his hair, the strong, slender sinews of the hands, something further; which had. Though she combed the earth and searched through the smoke of the galaxies there was no being she wanted but this, who was not and should not be for Philippa Somerville.

Backtracking to Ringed Castle: Lymond's falling in love with Philippa is even more precious. Because he'd been so horrid to her, in my opinion (haha, I was already rooting for them and I love Philippa to bits), when he fell in love with her, I was like, 'HAH! Serve you right! You love her, now whatchoo gonna do!' XD I love how he thought he was completely invulnerable against such fluffy emotions, so that when love happened, he was utterly shocked with himself. Fantastic. Here's the part where Philippa gets knocked unconscious at the House of Revels and Lymond had to bring her back to Lady Dormer's.

He looked at her. The long, brown hair; the pure skin of youth; the closed brown eyes, their lashes artfully stained; the obstinate chin; the definite nose, its nostrils curled. The lips, lightly tinted, and the corners deepened, even sleeping, with the remembrance of sardonic joy... The soft, severe lips.

And deep within him, missing its accustomed tread, his heart paused and gave one single stroke, as if on an anvil.

And to finish, the best ever line to substitute 'and they lived happily ever after':

'We have reached the open sea, with some charts; and the firmament.'

Doesn't that simple line just describe the boundless future for Lymond and Philippa at the end of the series? Oh, Dunnett, you genius and gift to the literary world. I am in constant awe of you.