The Teachers Union

So this is a thing I put together in response to a series of prompts I myself created, which were based around character archetypes, one of which was "the mentor." So this happened in my brain.

WARNING: Some very mild spoilers abound for Game of Thrones (up to Season 6, Episode 3), A Song of Ice and Fire (up to the already released material from The Winds of Winter), and Star Wars: The Force Awakens.

Gandalf banged his staff against the floor, inadvertently releasing several small fireworks from it in the process. “I hereby call this meeting of the Mentors’ Association to order.”

He had been hoping for a reverent silence, but what he got was a rather glum one. Dumbledore coughed. Yoda shuffled slightly atop the pile of cushions on which he’d propped himself. Giles adjusted his glasses as noisily as possible. Professor Xavier polished his shiny, shiny head.

Gandalf sighed, almost inaudibly. “So… who would like to start?”

Even before he had finished the sentence, Bloodraven was attempting to work his hand free from the series of knotted tree roots in which it was trapped. Gandalf decided to take pity on him. “Yes, Brynden?”

“It’s those bloody showrunners again,” said Bloodraven. “Not only did they cut me out for a whole season, now they’ve changed my entire backstory! A thousand years… I swear to the gods, do I look a thousand years old?”

Heavy silence reigned for several interminable moments. Finally, Yoda broke it: “When nine hundred years old you reach-”

“Not the time, Yoda,” Gandalf cut across. “Look, Brynden, we’ve all got a century or two behind us here-”

“I beg your pardon?” said Giles.

“Oh, sorry Rupert. OK, most of us are ancient beings-”

“That’s hardly the point,” sniffed Bloodraven. “I know I’m not exactly in my prime, but I’ve got a rich backstory. Rebellion! Betrayal! Intrigue! And they cut it all just for the sake of a single line.” He shook his head. “And I’m not even the worst served. You should hear how Doran Martell talks about them.”

“Don’t talk to me about adaptations,” said Dumbledore morosely. “I mean, really. What was all that ‘HARRYDIDYOUPUTYOURNAMEINTHEGOBLETOFFIYAH’ nonsense about? Bloody Gambon.”

Xavier shrugged. “I can’t complain. I got to be played by Patrick Stewart and James McAvoy. It’s quite flattering.”

Gandalf felt the meeting getting away from him. “I don’t think we have a full complement. Wasn’t Morpheus supposed to be here?”

“Took him away, did they,” intoned Yoda sadly.

Giles nodded agreement. “Just before you arrived, some fellow with winged sandals came by. Seems he’d mistaken Morpheus for Orpheus, and so he dragged him off to Classical Archetypes down the hall. I tried to follow, but when I got there the only person in the room was some man screaming blue murder about how much his heel hurt. I just thought it was a lost cause.”

Gandalf shook his head. There was no point appealing to the Muses; they had always been overly fond of the classics, presumably because that was where they most often got namechecked. He turned away from the group, took out his notebook and scribbled down “Rescue Morpheus from underworld.” He paused, and added “Don’t look back on return journey – will lead to complications.”

Giles cleared his throat. “Speaking of our membership, I should like to raise a point. I, er, don’t know to put this, but don’t you think we’re a bit, erm…”

“A sausagefest are we,” said Yoda.

“Well, yes. Quite.”

Dumbledore nodded agreement. “I did ask Minerva to come along, but she just sniffed and offered me a biscuit.”

“Probably just as well,” said Xavier. “The Classical people might have gotten their hands on her too, and then we’d have had no end of complications.”

Gandalf nodded. “I think we can agree that the whole Hero’s Journey thing has historically been a bit… weighted in terms of gender. I think the best we can do is just wait for another generation of writers to come up with more female mentors.”

That platitudinous sentiment seemed to placate the others, and Gandalf turned his attention back to the rough schedule he had carved out on a stone, there being no other writing implements available to him at the time.

“Let’s see… we’ve done ‘bitch over adaptations’… I think we can leave aside ‘complain about antagonists’ for a bit.”

“I’d like to know exactly who mine is first,” said Bloodraven.

Yoda nodded sagely. “Hurry up, should George RR Martin.”

“I think we can move on to the progress report on our young charges,” said Gandalf testily. “Er… Bloodraven, why don’t you start?”

Bloodraven shrugged, a difficult gesture when you’re largely encased in a tree. “You tell me. He hasn’t released any Winds of Winter sample chapters for Bran yet.”

Xavier leaned forward, pleased. “Well, mine are-”

“Oh, don’t let Xavier get started,” said Giles.

Yoda nodded agreement. “Go on all day, he will.”

Gandalf turned to his fellow Merlin-wannabe. “Albus, how’s young Harry getting on?”

Dumbledore smiled. “He’s taking on absurd amounts of responsibility, in the unwavering belief that he always knows best. I’ve never been prouder of him.”

“Rupert? How is Buffy doing with her, er, vampire slaying?”

Giles nodded contentedly. “Her kung fu moves are getting ever more needlessly elaborate. It’s quite spectacular.”

“Yoda?”

“Standing on a rock, young Skywalker is. Like Oliver Reed he now looks.”

Gandalf crossed off an entry on his list, and surveyed the room, pleased.

“All right. Let’s move on to ‘aphoristic but meaningless wisdom’.”

---

Down the hall, the Protagonists’ Association meeting was in full swing.

“…So you see,” Matt Murdock was saying, “between the verbal abuse and the occasional unexpected impositions on my life, I haven’t had the best relationship with my mentor.”

There was an outbreak of muttered agreement. Half of the X-Men, who took up most of the room, nodded darkly. Heads turned to look at Harry Potter, next in the circle, who shrugged.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I feel like I had a pretty good relationship with mine. I even named my son after him!”

“Did you, though?” said Bruce Wayne, who had refused to take off his Batman regalia and now looked uncomfortably warm. “I mean, he did totally manipulate you, and withhold some pretty crucial information from you.”

Harry shrugged. “Yeah, but I get it. It was all for the greater good.”

“The greater good,” echoed a chorus of muffled voices from the next room. Frodo winced.

“That’s just the cult from Hot Fuzz,” he explained. “They always do that.”

“Try not to use the phrase ‘the greater good’,” added Buffy.

“The greater good.”

“Shut up!”