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Quotes about Gideon Nav and Harrowhark Nonagesimus from Tamsyn Muir’s Locked Tomb tetralogy
art by Tommy Arnold
Joined March 2021
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Hi everyone!
A TLT Artists for Gaza project is in the works. Please dm
@cinnamon3256
or me (on
@onefleshoneend
) if you would be interested in participating as an artist! We would be offering tiered commissions in exchange for donations to careforgaza :D
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its international lesbian day give them all your money.
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Harrow said, with some difficulty: “I cannot conceive of a universe without you in it.” “Yes you can, it’s just less great and less hot,” said Gideon. “Fuck you, Nav—”
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“Gideon the Ninth, first flower of my House,” she said hoarsely, “you are the greatest cavalier we have ever produced. You are our triumph. The best of all of us. It has been my privilege to be your necromancer.”
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Harrow said, with some difficulty: “I cannot conceive of a universe without you in it.” “Yes you can, it’s just less great and less hot,” said Gideon. “Fuck you, Nav—”
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I’m her cavalier, dipshit! I’d kill for her! I’d die for her. I did die for her. I’d do anything she needed, anything at all, before she even knew she needed it.
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I died knowing you’d hate me for dying; but Nonagesimus, you hating me always meant more than anyone else in this hot and stupid universe loving me. At least I’d had your full attention.
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So many months had passed: and yet, at the same time, she had only lost Gideon Nav three days ago. It was the morning of the third day in a universe without her cavalier: it was the morning of the third day
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“Gideon the Ninth, first flower of my House,” she said hoarsely, “you are the greatest cavalier we have ever produced. You are our triumph. The best of all of us. It has been my privilege to be your necromancer.”
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“I need to be inside you,” Harrow bellowed over the din. “Okay, you’re not even trying,” said Gideon.
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“The arms kind of looked like swords. I want to fight it.” “You want to fight it.” “Yep.” “Because it looked … a little like swords.” “Yop.”
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“Gideon the Ninth, first flower of my House,” she said hoarsely, “you are the greatest cavalier we have ever produced. You are our triumph. The best of all of us. It has been my privilege to be your necromancer.”
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“I’ve lived my whole wretched life at your mercy, yours alone, and God knows I deserve to die at your hand. You are my only friend. I am undone without you.”
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“You’re not waiting for her resurrection; you’ve made yourself her mausoleum.”
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Gideon looked over her shoulder at her, and caught the Reverend Daughter’s smile. There was blood sweat coming out of her left ear, but her smile was long and sweet and beautiful. Gideon found herself smiling back so hard her mouth hurt.
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She said, “Harrow, I can’t keep my promise, because the entire point of me is you. You get that, right? That’s what cavaliers sign up for. There is no me without you. One flesh, one end.”
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“One flesh, one end,” said Gideon, and it was a murmur now, on the very edge of hearing. Harrow said, “Don’t leave me.”
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“There’s my sword,” Gideon said. “Pick it up—pick it up and stop looking at me, dick. Don’t. Don’t you dare look at me.”
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The expression on her face was completely alien. Harrowhark Nonagesimus was looking at her with unalloyed admiration. “But for the love of the Emperor, Griddle,” she said gruffly, “you are something else with that sword.”
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Harrowhark, I gave you my whole life and you didn’t even want it.
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“Nav,” she said, “what are you doing?” “The cruellest thing anyone has ever done to you in your whole entire life, believe me,” said Gideon. “You’ll know what to do, and if you don’t do it, what I’m about to do will be no use to anyone.”
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“I need to be inside you,” Harrow bellowed over the din. “Okay, you’re not even trying,” said Gideon.
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“It would be very easy to surprise my readers in Alecto -- I could just start Chapter 1 with Gideon and Harrow arguing about what to order in a McDonald's.”
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Like, at the end of everything, if it was going to be you and me, layered over each other as we always were. A final blurring of the edges between us, like water spilt over ink outlines. Melted steel. Mingled blood. Harrowhark-and-Gideon, Gideon-and-Harrowhark at last.
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“Gideon the Ninth, first flower of my House,” she said hoarsely, “you are the greatest cavalier we have ever produced. You are our triumph. The best of all of us. It has been my privilege to be your necromancer.”
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Harrow, the last time I chose to die, I died with your face the last thing I ever looked at. Let me tell you a secret: it was easy to die thinking I wouldn’t have to see you go. It was so easy to check out before you did.
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“Ohhhhhrr, Gideon, I was so dumb to think a tub of ancient freezer meat was my girlfriend. Please show me how to do a press-up. Also, I’m very obviously attracted to y—no, damn it, this is just sad.
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Harrow was too amazed by her body’s expanding capacity for despair. It was as though her feeling doubled even as she looked at it, unfolding, like falling down an endless flight of stairs. She dug her hands into the mattress and she cried for Gideon Nav.
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“Gideon the Ninth, first flower of my House,” she said hoarsely, “you are the greatest cavalier we have ever produced. You are our triumph. The best of all of us. It has been my privilege to be your necromancer.”
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There had been another girl who grew up alongside Harrow—but she had died before Harrow was born.
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“Listen, she can be in hell for all I care, I won’t get mad,” said Kiriona. “She can be at the bottom of the sea or at the bottom of space. I just need to know—where.”
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To which a voice on the opposite side of the shore was raised, exceedingly wroth, and Alecto heard it shout a very great shout: Get in line, thou big slut.
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You sawed open your skull rather than be beholden by someone. You turned your brain into soup escape anything less than 100% freedom. You out me in a box and buried me rather than give up your own goddamned agenda. Harrowhark, I have you my whole life and you didn’t even want it.
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“I’m not running, Harrow!” “Of course we’re not running,” said Harrowhark disdainfully. “I said a necromancer alone. I have you. We bring hell.”
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day late griddlehark atn predictions for New Years
(not necessarily what one might want to happen, but what narratively and textually and from studying tm what I anticipate might happen)
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Harrowhark picked herself up off the floor and looked her Emperor dead in his dark and shining eyes. “How dare you ask me to live with it?”
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“You’re not waiting for her resurrection; you’ve made yourself her mausoleum.”
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“Listen, she can be in hell for all I care, I won’t get mad,” said Kiriona. “She can be at the bottom of the sea or at the bottom of space. I just need to know—where.”
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“I will never ask anything of you, ever again, if you just give me back the life of Gideon Nav.”
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Gideon looked over her shoulder at her, and caught the Reverend Daughter’s smile. There was blood sweat coming out of her left ear, but her smile was long and sweet and beautiful. Gideon found herself smiling back so hard her mouth hurt.
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Harrow, the last time I chose to die, I died with your face the last thing I ever looked at. Let me tell you a secret: it was easy to die thinking I wouldn’t have to see you go. It was so easy to check out before you did.
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Gideon tilted her head up and caught her gaze: “Say it, loser.” “One flesh—one end,” Harrow repeated fumblingly, and then could say no more.
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“If you think anything I did, I did to make her love me, then you don’t know anything about her and me. I’m her cavalier, dipshit! I’d kill for her! I’d die for her. I did die for her. I’d do anything she needed, anything at all, before she even knew she needed it.”
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"You are my only friend. I am undone without you.”
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She said, “Harrow, I can’t keep my promise, because the entire point of me is you. You get that, right? That’s what cavaliers sign up for. There is no me without you. One flesh, one end.”
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Hello lovely people. Nona quotes will officially be in the bot on October 13th. And they are brutal lol.
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Nona could make out nothing in the darkness, but the corpse prince’s voice was unmistakable. “The Reverend Daughter has no cavalier living.”
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Harrowhark-and-Gideon, Gideon-and-Harrowhark at last.
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Gideon looked over her shoulder at her, and caught the Reverend Daughter’s smile. There was blood sweat coming out of her left ear, but her smile was long and sweet and beautiful. Gideon found herself smiling back so hard her mouth hurt.
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I said, “You told that bastard to beat up Harrow?” That was my job, after all. God said, “I was trying to save her.” Also my job. “Go to hell, Pops.”
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“It would be very easy to surprise my readers in Alecto -- I could just start Chapter 1 with Gideon and Harrow arguing about what to order in a McDonald's.”
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“I've never yet written a sort of soulmate-type lesbian relationship where two girls meet and immediately feel a very strong kinship or connection: my lesbians tend to start out regarding each other with a kind of baffled or even appalled fascination.”
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Harrow said, with some difficulty: “I cannot conceive of a universe without you in it.” “Yes you can, it’s just less great and less hot,” said Gideon. “Fuck you, Nav—”
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“I need to be inside you,” Harrow bellowed over the din. “Okay, you’re not even trying,” said Gideon.
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“Ohhhhhrr, Gideon, I was so dumb to think a tub of ancient freezer meat was my girlfriend. Please show me how to do a press-up. Also, I’m very obviously attracted to y—no, damn it, this is just sad.
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“Gideon the Ninth, first flower of my House,” she said hoarsely, “you are the greatest cavalier we have ever produced. You are our triumph. The best of all of us. It has been my privilege to be your necromancer.”
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“Now we kick her ass until candy comes out,” said Gideon. “Oh, damn, Nonagesimus, don’t cry, we can’t fight her if you’re crying.”
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You prepared to die with the Locked Tomb on your lips. But your idiot dying mouth rounded out three totally different syllables, and they were three syllables you did not even understand.
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So many months had passed: and yet, at the same time, she had only lost Gideon Nav three days ago. It was the morning of the third day in a universe without her cavalier
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She said, “Harrow, I can’t keep my promise, because the entire point of me is you. You get that, right? That’s what cavaliers sign up for. There is no me without you. One flesh, one end.”
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“Listen, she can be in hell for all I care, I won’t get mad,” said Kiriona. “She can be at the bottom of the sea or at the bottom of space. I just need to know—where.”
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Harrow was too amazed by her body’s expanding capacity for despair. It was as though her feeling doubled even as she looked at it, unfolding, like falling down an endless flight of stairs. She dug her hands into the mattress and she cried for Gideon Nav.
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Harrow, the last time I chose to die, I died with your face the last thing I ever looked at. Let me tell you a secret: it was easy to die thinking I wouldn’t have to see you go. It was so easy to check out before you did.
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“Ohhhhhrr, Gideon, I was so dumb to think a tub of ancient freezer meat was my girlfriend. Please show me how to do a press-up. Also, I’m very obviously attracted to y—no, damn it, this is just sad.
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“Too many words,” said Gideon confidentially. “How about these: One flesh, one end, bitch.” The Ninth House necromancer flushed nearly black.
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The expression on her face was completely alien. Harrowhark Nonagesimus was looking at her with unalloyed admiration. “But for the love of the Emperor, Griddle,” she said gruffly, “you are something else with that sword.”
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fyi. sorry everyone. I’m really upset about it.
Starting February 9, we will no longer support free access to the Twitter API, both v2 and v1.1. A paid basic tier will be available instead 🧵
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“Yes?” “You know I don’t give a damn about the Locked Tomb, right? You know I only care about you,” she said in a brokenhearted rush.
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“Gideon the Ninth, first flower of my House,” she said hoarsely, “you are the greatest cavalier we have ever produced. You are our triumph. The best of all of us. It has been my privilege to be your necromancer.”
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“The land that shall receive thee dying, in the same will I die: and there will I be buried. The Lord do so and so to me, and add more also, if aught but death part me and thee,” said Gideon. “See you on the flip side, sugarlips.”
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So I closed my eyes and I reached under your shirt and I peeled them all off, and I tied your hair back and took your sword and left. I didn’t look, and I barely touched you. Don’t get mad.
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“Harrow, I hate you,” said Gideon. “I never stopped hating you. I will always hate you, and you will always hate me. Don’t forget that. It’s not like I ever can.”
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The corpse’s mouth was soft and rough and cold, and did not respond to Nona’s mouth, but a tremble went through the upper body.
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Harrow was too amazed by her body’s expanding capacity for despair. It was as though her feeling doubled even as she looked at it, unfolding, like falling down an endless flight of stairs. She dug her hands into the mattress and she cried for Gideon Nav.
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“There,” said Gideon, in Harrow’s ear, her voice softer now. “Thanks, Palamedes.” “Sextus was a marvel,” admitted Harrow. “Too bad you didn’t marry him. You’re both into old dead chicks.” “Gideon—”
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“I’ve lived my whole wretched life at your mercy, yours alone, and God knows I deserve to die at your hand. You are my only friend. I am undone without you.”
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“Now we kick her ass until candy comes out,” said Gideon. “Oh, damn, Nonagesimus, don’t cry, we can’t fight her if you’re crying.”
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You’d touched that letter, and I—you know it was killing me twice that you weren’t there, right? You must know it was destroying me to be there in your body, trying to keep your thumbs on, and I couldn’t even hear your damn voice?
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“I knew the moment I saw it. I never made her look like that … She can’t love me, even if I’d wanted her to. She can’t love you. She can’t even try.”
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“Don’t do this to me.” “I owe you your life,” said Harrowhark, “I owe you everything.”
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He said coolly: “Because I’m the greatest necromancer of my generation.” The unconscious figure sacked across Gideon’s shoulder muttered, “Like hell you are.”
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"You looked like you wanted to be kissed, that's all."
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“Step off, bitch,” said Harrowhark Nonagesimus, behind her.
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He said coolly: “Because I’m the greatest necromancer of my generation.” The unconscious figure sacked across Gideon’s shoulder muttered, “Like hell you are.”
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I wanted you to use me, you malign, double-crossing, corpse-obsessed bag of bones, you broken, used-up shithead! I wanted you to live and not die, you imaginary-girlfriend-having asshole!
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“Why was I born so attractive?” “Because everyone would have throttled you within the first five minutes otherwise,” said her necromancer.
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Harrowhark picked herself up off the floor and looked her Emperor dead in his dark and shining eyes. “How dare you ask me to live with it?”
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Gideon looked over her shoulder at her, and caught the Reverend Daughter’s smile. There was blood sweat coming out of her left ear, but her smile was long and sweet and beautiful. Gideon found herself smiling back so hard her mouth hurt.
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“I’d rather be your battery than feel you rummaging around in my head. You want my juice? I’ll give you juice.” “Under no circumstances will I ever desire your juice,” said her necromancer, mouth getting more desperate.
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In the sci-fi novel 'Gideon The Ninth', Gideon is a cavalier bonded to Harrowhark, one of these bone raising conjurers
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“Oh, you were gorgeous,” said the Lyctor, “a thing apart.” She batted Gideon’s sword away with her hand. Then she advanced. “Step off, bitch,” said Harrowhark Nonagesimus, behind her.
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“You think you can make me jealous? You think anything I did has been to make her love me? You don’t know. She didn’t even tell you.”
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And you said: “But why does Ortus the First want me dead?” “Who?” said Mercymorn, indifferently.
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In the end her job was surprisingly easy: she wrapped her arms around Harrow Nonagesimus and held her long and hard, like a scream.
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Harrow was too amazed by her body’s expanding capacity for despair. It was as though her feeling doubled even as she looked at it, unfolding, like falling down an endless flight of stairs. She dug her hands into the mattress and she cried for Gideon Nav.
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“Keep your sword off my cavalier,” said Harrow, in tones of the sepulchre.
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“Yes?” “You know I don’t give a damn about the Locked Tomb, right? You know I only care about you,” she said in a brokenhearted rush.
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You’d touched that letter, and I—you know it was killing me twice that you weren’t there, right? You must know it was destroying me to be there in your body, trying to keep your thumbs on, and I couldn’t even hear your damn voice?
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