* / steadfast

you always have to choose between the path of needles and the path of pins. [...] the quick and easy way or the painful way that works. / penned by pea.

[courtesies]

˚ COURTESIES  is an  independent  multimuse  character  blog  featuring  primarily  historical  &  fantasy  muses. loved and scripted by pea , 26 , gmt , she / her.  

explorations in: girls who’re too much, women who are not enough, bloodied inheritances, what it is to be a king, feminine rage, grief, hubris, murderous women, ambition as both postitive force and fatal flaw, fallen heroes, she’s been dead since the beginning, heavy burdens, thorned crowns, & women who are wolves.

quick links :    character masterlist ,  guidelines , open starters , memes.

[courtesies]

svnshone​:

.

Dagmar swirled at the voice of another, hand instinctively reaching for a new arrow. She forced her fingers to still, wishing her heart rate to slow as well. It would do no good to send a projectile into the Polish queen. No more blood ought to be spilt- until they found those responsible for Clara’s demise. They had surrendered their right to keep theirs the moment they spilt the princess’. 

“A type of power, I suppose.” Is that what she felt when she held a bow, she she shot an arrow? A sense of control would be a better explanation. The world was spinning too fast on it’s axis, but knowing she could simply send an arrow to a target slowed it. The power of pointing an arrow at a deer, knowing that it would live or die by her hand. It had been too long since she had hunted. “Did you never learn?” Dagmar could not imagine a life in which her father had not handed her a weapon, placed her on top of a horse, and told her to do sport. Taught her to do better, to achieve greatness. 

Jadwiga nodded, once. Her brow took on the slow furrowing of a frown, as she thought. A type of power. Yes. It was the answer she’d wanted. A question that she’d never dared ask until now. To a woman grieving her sister-in-law whilst Jadwiga grieved-- well, she grieved for a husband didn’t she? For a husband she watched die in mind slowly everyday. It was not a grief so clean and simple as the dowager’s. It would be easier if it were. Cleaner. 

She smiled slightly. “A little with a crossbow, but... I was never truly allowed to hunt. My siblings were all taught but not me.” No, her father couldn’t allow chance of an accident to happen to her. His plans had been too great to be foiled by a mere hunting accident. Hunts could be dangerous, horses could be dangerous. Whilst Jadwiga had been allowed to ride, and was proficient enough these days it had always been under careful supervision. She’d watched envisiously as her siblings had been allowed to go out. How they’d return laughing and full of joy of chase and kill. Her fingers itched and she flexed them the way she always had done to get rid of that all too familiar feeling.

 “I’ve always been a little jealous of those who were taught.” Not enough to ask any of her siblings or family by marriage to teach her of course. That would be... something else entirely. An embarrassment that she wouldn’t allow herself to bear. “Who taught you?”

[reputayswift]

seven taylor swift // wuthering heights emily brontë

[metamorphesque]

you don't have to be good

Japanese Breakfast, Oscar Wilde, John Steinbeck, Wu Ruo Hsin

buy me a coffee

[svnshone]

@1642hqzstarters​

She had not asked it to be brought- but same as the trunk holding her boots, her breeches, and various other supplies she utilized for hunting, someone had made sure her bow had been packed. It had not been touched by her hands for well over a year, but someone had made sure it was still in perfect condition. Dagmar made her way into the gardens, quiver strung over her shoulder, and set up a target. She was out of practice, she knew. It was the longest she had gone without shooting in her life- but even though her muscles were not as developed as they had been, they still remembered the motion. She drew the arrow, and when it landed it hit the target- though not near enough close to the middle as she was used to. She continued, working her way through the quiver, landing on the target each time, paying little attention to around her, focusing solely on the weapon in her hands and the target.

[courtesies]

Jadwiga hadn’t meant to simply stand and watch the dowager queen at practice. No, when she’d first came across her she’d meant to pass on her way, to not intrude upon what was probably a much needed moment of calm in the midst of grief. However, without meaning she’d became quite hypnotized by the repeated movements. She didn’t know much time passed like that, simply watching but at some point it began to feel like the first bout of true calmness that Jadwiga had felt in a small eternity. And suddenly as she felt equilibrium reached, her stomach churned and she felt an odd little pang that had no name but in a dark mirror may be called... jealousy.

 “Does it help?” The question came unbidden, at a moment when Dagmar had yet to notch the next arrow. It startled Jadwiga coming from herself as much as it may potentially startle the other. How funny the way that she’d taken to doing and saying all kinds of things since being away from home. It felt like Switzerland was this space of inbetween and she was constantly chasing after something... she knew what what exactly other than at times it felt like stability and others like the very opposite. If the answer to a lifetime of mourning (for what? for everything, of course) was so simple... If some form of contentment and absence of hopelessness could be found in the physical, then-- well, Jadwiga cleared her throat. “I’d always imagined it must feel good to be able to wield a weapon. It’s a kind of power, really. Especially to be proficient.”

[lizzieforbes]

[ofhugosbellamy]

STARTER FOR: THE POLISH @tcmpestas, @vipercille, @sangetfer, @courtesies​

piotr stared out the window for awhile, watching the birds fly though the trees without a worry in the world. he briefly wondered what it would be like to fly away from his problems. he supposed his problems would find a way and learn to fly right after him. there was a murder in switzerland. piotr was no full. he knew eyes would either point towards his family or the swedes. for once, he couldn’t claim the chaos in the palace. 

his fingers tapped against the frosted glass. early morning dew drops fell of the window towards the gardens below. “i am glad to see that you are safe,” his voice is soft, as it always is. piotr has always been the kind of man who spoke little unless it was important. “though if you are responsible, i would hope you would come to me.” the king sighs, tearing his eyes away from the birds to his family member. 

[courtesies]

her husband was a stranger to her, that was most clear now as she looked at the pale ghostly reflection of him in the glass of the window. there had been a time once where had hoped to know him but those days were long gone. instead this was a man whose eyes she now in this moment only met in reflection as she settled down softly cup of tea in hand. 

“if i were responsible there wouldn’t be this much fuss. i would have been much cleaner.” truthfully, if she were to ever do something so heinous her husband was the last of people she would go to. no, that would be a burden not for him to bear. his was not a soul to darken. if there were to be darkness that was by choice then it should be her duty to hold that. not his. sometimes, when she lay awake at night she prayed that his burdens would be lessened. that in his growing darkness there would be reprieve. as was the way in this world, there had been no answers or respite. 

 she took a sip of the black unsweetened tea and closed her eyes as the warmth of it settled down her throat. “whoever has done this, i’m sure will be aprehended soon. if indeed there is anyone behind it. it could be sickness or some tragic accident. i pray it was but an accident, and that the soul of whoever the poor girl was is at rest.”  

[vipercrownss]

Open Starter! @1642hqzstarters

Location: The Halls of the Swiss Palace in the afternoon

Apolonia explored the unfamiliar halls of the Swiss Palace. She found it to be beautiful but dreadfully boring.

There was a vase nearby that Pola nonchalantly tipped over on purpose that broke as soon as it hit the floor.

Seeing another person witness her breaking a vase that wasn't hers, made her care even less.

"What? It was ugly so I put it out of its misery. Wouldn't you do the same?" She asked with an unhinged smile.

"This palace... it is pretty, but it bores me."

[courtesies]

If only Jadwiga’s response to things breaking was to flinch. If only such discordant sound were not so familiar as to only draw out a sigh. Pray to god that vase wasn’t stupidly expensive... not that they’d be paying for it anyway, there were always ways around those things. Always.

Really, it would have been nicer to say she was put off by such... outrageous behaviour. That the casual breaking of expensive objects was disconcerting-- unfortunately, Jadwiga wasn’t. She hadn’t flinched when Apolonia broke the vase but simply paused. Now, stepping carefully over it she tried to not sigh again. It was a losing battle. She could already feel the disappointed look settling on her face; the pull of her eyebrows downwards and the overly motherly tug of her mouth. It was the same look she’d bestowed upon her siblings time and time again in her youth. 

“It wasn’t alive to be put out of its misery. It wasn’t suffering.” Jadwiga picked up a shard and turned it over in her hand, minding the edges that looked sharp enough to cut. It was ugly, Jadwiga had to admit to herself. “Boredom comes from within. Often from not enough to do. Perhaps a walk in the gardens might help?” 

[sorryforthebonyelbows]

Margaret Atwood

I was so alone that every day was like eating my own heart.

Junot Diaz

James Baldwin, Giovanni's Room

Outline In Color, Eat Your Heart Out

Euripides, Medea

[feral-ballad]

Angela Carter, from The Bloody Chamber and Other Stories; “The Bloody Chamber”

[Text ID: “a wounded presence between us.”]

[gifshistorical]

Michelle Fairley as Catelyn Stark in Game of Thrones (1.01)

[dameaylins]

charles & mary brandon :’)

[courtesies]

 cftragedy​:

Fedya had stepped out once more, the urge to be free of the festivities, if only for a moment, not quite as strong as it had been earlier. Nodding and tipping their head in acknowledgement of the woman –the French princess, they recalled belatedly– they regarded the tray. Seeing that she’d clearly taken one from its place already, they took one as well when offered. They swirled the glass absently and sipped slowly, their nose crinkling ever so slightly as they adjusted to the taste of the tannins. 

“Quite.” They hummed in agreement, falling silent for a moment. “Are special occasions always so grand here, or is this more for the rest of us?” Their own brother’s wedding had been a sight to behold, yes, but he was already the Tsar by then. It was to be expected. Maybe it was their youngest child upbringing showing, but Fedya couldn’t recall so much fuss ever being made over them. Not that they minded. If they and Asya had to parade around a ballroom back in Moscow for hours when they returned they might combust on the spot instead. 

     “As grand as this? It depends, really. My brother is the Dauphin, and one day he’ll be king so any special occasion for him is always...” Madeleine, paused as she tried to find the right words in English. When none came to her she shook her head with a loud sigh. “Big. The court is already excessive. I’m not sure about Russia but here, money is power.”

It was hard to explain to people the protocol that dictated life at the French court. How her father didn’t dress himself and how there was so little privacy to be had that generations previous had created private chambers that existed within their own bedrooms. How the spaces were so big because the dresses the women wore could be so ridiculously large few people could fit in a room. The wealth and the showing off. The competitions and the pomp. Those last two were probably common everywhere but-- well, even as ill-travelled as Madeleine was outside of her country, she knew her people were unique. 

“All of this would be more... everything if the entire court were here. Bigger and grander. Much worse and there’d be at least ten reputations ruined tonight.”

She took a drink in silence, regaining the track of her thoughts. She gestured a hand towards the world away from the palace.

 “The fireworks will begin soon and whilst I’m sure they will be beautiful they’ll be nothing compared to what would be shown on more notice.” 

[courtesies]

 crowncds​:

they danced to the music filling the hall, motions fluid. they had only danced together once before- during his visit to that countryside chateau so many years before. It was strange, how happy they had been then compared to what they were now.

“don’t what?” he asked. he wished he could tell her don’t- don’t act as if they were strangers, don’t ignore him, don’t turn away from him. 

they were face to face, his eyes staring into hers, his hand caressing hers. there was no door to close, no way to pull away from each other. they were in the middle of the dance floor.

“yes, he was found.” the retrieval of general ludwig had been a great belief to leopold. with all that was going on, it had been nice to have good news. “scared, but still in good health.”

he could feel the outline of her waist beneath her gown and stays, his hand steady upon her as they moved across the dance floor, guiding her. “how have you been? since-” since that night, when she had left him.

her spine was rigid, her entire body taught. an entire lifetime had taught her posture of the most enviable kind yet this was not that. with his hands on her and him stubbornly trying to meet her gaze she had become hard and inflexible. she wondered if he could feel it? how very stiff she was. absently, wondered even more if other people had noticed? she hoped not but just the thought that they had made her tense even further. 

don’t what? her mouth twitched as she fought the urge to snap at him. he knew exactly what she meant. just as he had known that she could never marry but he’d asked anyway. had asked as if love alone had ever been enough in this world. as if she were at liberty to do as a common woman would and marry for something so simple. as if her hand in marriage were not equal to the worth of a small country. 

he’d had her heart, couldn’t that have been enough? for if she ever married it was not something her husband would possess. it had been leopold’s alone. 

but she did not want to be angry. not when there so many things to be angry about these days. so when he told her general ludwig was safe she nodded and she went so far as to open her mouth to tell him she was glad. but a moment later she closed it. her words had flown away. as he guided across the floor she wished that she could fly away too. unable to bear looking at him, she fixed her gaze at a point far away over his shoulder. 

“bereft,” she said. “at first it felt like a part of me had been cleaved away. but there was little time to focus on that so i recovered. the house of bourbon are not so easy to destroy as some might think. we have a habit of standing back up after being trodden on.”

[courtesies]

 viirtus​ 

“ I should know…I used to steal a bottle of this from a chest in his apartments, ” Lucien’s words were laced with humor as he allows a hint of smile to shape his lips at the sight of his younger sister. Truth be told, the dauphin has been in low spirits since learning about the betrothal with little time before the announcement and the feast took place and yet, simply being in the company of someone he adored is offering him the kind of comfort he had been seeking since the event has commenced. “ But you did not just hear that from me.. ” He takes the bottle with one hand, just as she suggested, and grabs the empty goblet by it before pouring himself a generous amount of the liquor. If Lucien wanted to survive the night, he would need to finish the entire bottle — or two — for him to be able to endure everything that will take place during the course of the feast. 

The dauphin approaches her, taking a generous sip from his glass, as he says, “ Can you keep it a secret between us, dear sister? Our father holds plentiful reasons to be disappointed in me…he need not another one to add to his collection, ” a low chuckle escaping him as he studied Madeleine’s features. She looked…somber, solemn, and for some odd reason, it comforted him just as much as he found it quite worrying. Perhaps, he was not alone in how he felt about this gathering. “ Why do you frown so, Linnie? It does not suit you, ” his free hand reaches for her cheek, giving it a playful, loose pinching like he would when they were younger, “ Do not tell me you are feeling more miserable than I, the future groom-to-be? ” 

Madeleine laughed quietly, softly, and shook her head. For a moment it was possible to pretend that things were easy. That they were just two siblings laughing about stealing from their father. That this engagement for Lucien was wanted and that the people inside celebrating right now were not actually wolves circling their prey waiting for a moment of weakness. She found herself unable to meet her brother’s eyes, instead turning her head to look over the balcony. 

I think you’ll find I’m quite adept at secret keeping these days. 

But he did not allow her maudlin to over linger. As any good brother he was adept at the art of annoying his siblings. If there was one proven fact, no matter how sad you were siblings had a way of annoying you no matter what. As his hand made contact she scowled and swatted at him with her own free arm. Threat of spilling wine on herself was the only thing that made her not swat at him further.

"You’re lucky that your secrets are safe with me, you annoying pest,” she scoffed. Her frown was gone but in its place was the act of indignant younger sister. For though her annoyance was real, truthfully it was only mild. More than anything she just wanted to avoid his prying. “As the groom, you should have little reason to be unhappy. In fact, you should be practically over brimming with happines... Though, I did find your future wife sat on the hallway floor earlier and she was quite upset. Tell me, did you tell her she was ugly when she frowns too? Women don’t like that kind of thing, Luc. ”

[courtesies]

 crowncds​ 

he took her offered hand delicately within his, her fingers resting on hid palm, caressed by his thumb. he had felt her absence every second of each day since their last conversation. when she had said no to his proposal.

leopold swallowed heavily as he guided her onto the dance floor. “you know he is, madeleine.” she knew far too much about him and his family, and no doubt he would be in trouble if anyone were to know how much he had disclosed to her.

his feet stopped, and leopold found himself staring at the brunette, face to face. the prince hesitated, before he slipped his free hand to her waist, feeling the silk beneath his fingers. in tune to the music, he began to dance. “you look lovely tonight.”

  she could feel the beat of her heart in her hand. from the place where his hands touched hers the palpable thump radiated outwards. he had to feel it too, surely? because as he led her onto the dance floor it was all she could focus on. thumpthumpthump. any moment now and she’d faint with the force of the blood rushing through her. 

blood rushing so loudly that it made his response echo oddly in her own ears. why couldn’t he just play along? pretending was easier. but then he had been the one to ruin it, hadn’t he? the one that had laid forth a question he had to have known she could never answer positively to. he looked at her now as if she’d broken his heart. as if he hadn’t been the one to instigate the breaking of both of theirs. 

“don’t,” she murmured. if this was in reply to his compliment or him refusing to pretend they were strangers? she did not know. both. it was both, she decided as his other hand settled on her waist and she felt her heart stop entirely. if only she was anywhere but here on a crowded dance floor surrounded by people but entirely alone. entirely alone because leo and her were face to face and here in motion this was the closest they had been since--

her teeth clenched reflexively. the muscle in her cheek flexing as she fought to keep the rest of her pliant and graceful. as she thought to follow his lead rather than tear away from this awkwardness. 

“have you found your horse, yet? i know he means a lot to you. i’ve been praying for his safe return.”

[courtesies]

 astrid-henriksson​ 

“I’m sorry for intruding” She said with a small smile, she had just walked outside for a moment to have some fresh air, the mood was one of celebration and happiness but there was a nagging feeling in the back of her head that stopped her from fully join, she figured it was just out of everything that had been happening lately, but hopefully it would all be good tonight, “Thank you” she said getting closer and taking a glass “Are you having a nice night?”

“You’re not intruding,” Madeleine smiled at the other woman with what she hoped was warmth. Truthfully, she didn’t mind the imposition at all -- drinking by yourself could end up a little too sad, in the end. If she’d wanted real true solitude she’d have feigned illness and slipped away to her own rooms. More than that she’d have slipped away to the hidden chambers within her rooms that were reserved for real privacy. “I’m having a lovely night, thank you. I’ve danced with so many people I’m exhausted, but it has been lovely. It’s everything my brother deserves.” She laughed quietly, shaking her head. “But what of you? I hope you’ve been enjoying yourself too. Things have been so-- well, a night for celebration and happiness has been needed.”