Crowns And Embers

Multi-Muse • Original Fantasy Characters • Semi-Selective • Literate RP

[crownsandembers]

Under construction!!!

- crownsandembers

Penned by B • 30+ • She | Her

• Rules

• Muses

• Open Starters

• Wanted Connections

• OOC Updates

[seafoamveil]

footsteps echoed in the halls as she quietly walked alongside the guard. it was a demand for the maester that she would be required to answer even if she dreaded the idea of looking at her captor in the eye. that's what she thought of this entire damn place: a prison and she was not better than a prisoner. however, she was lucky because she had a certain set of skills that would help her survive.

quietly stepping into Lord Vane's chambers, her eyes focused on the stone floor in front of her as she bowed. "he is currently occupied with helping a lady with labor pains," she muttered quietly, trying to hide the edge in her voice. if she wanted to continue breathing, she would need to respect her new lord. "but I am more than qualified to help with what troubles you my lord." she had been taught by her mother who was taught my her mother before her on the art of healing and she was more than qualified.

her eyes could see the crimson soaked bandages at his side, "my lord, you look as if you've been hurt gravely, if you would allow me to examine you, I could reduce your pain as well.

[crownsandembers]

“Gravely, you say? I’ve had worse from a boar.” Alaric huffed a laugh, though it quickly dissolved into a wince. The movement alone sent pain spearing through his side. His jaw tightened. His gaze lingered on her then, sharper now than before. A memory stirred. Rain, smoke, the aftermath of a siege, prisoners being herded through the gates. He remembered her face amongst them. She was a captive, and that certainly sat poorly with him.

“So…” He drawled, leaning back slightly despite the protest from his ribs. “My Maester sends a prisoner in his stead?”

Another pulse of pain rolled through him. His hand moved instinctively to his side and came away crimson. Fresh blood seeped steadily through the bandages. His eyes flicked to the stain before returning to her.

“You have a name, healer.”

It wasn't a question, it was an order. If she was going to put her hands on him, if she was going to see him weakened like this, then he wanted to know exactly who she was.

[crownsandembers]

Open To: Anyone, f if romantic Muse: Alaric Vane Plot: Alaric (The Black Stag) is a war-hardened Lord, and when his trusted maester / healer is suddenly unable to attend him, a new healer arrives at his keep. Gimme slow burn, political tensions, someone to damn well unravel him! The wound at his side had long since soaked through the bandages. It was deep, that was certain, but not at all fatal...should it be treated properly. His gaze loomed down to pinkened water within the basin before him. His fingers tightened as another wave of pain crashed over him. He didn’t turn when the knock came.

“I told you to leave me be.” The black stag growled, though there was no strength behind his words. The knock came again, more insistent this time. He braced himself for the inevitable scold from his Maester, but heard only the rustle of fabric and soft footsteps as they padded across the stone floor. He looked up to the darkened glass above the hearth and released his grip on the basin.

“Corvin you are not.” He straightened and turned despite the pull at his ribs. “Tell me, where is the Maester? Has he finally decided I am beyond saving?”

[fuyante]

Bare feet padded carefully, soft fabric whispering against stone as Noémie placed a water-filled basin before him. Upon hearing his voice she hesitated, light hues flicking to his then falling to his bonds. So it appeared the rumors were true, though she supposed it was of little value now. Inhaling once, she pulled out a cloth, pressing it beneath the water. "If death is the worst fate to befall me then so be it." A simple response if not for the tremble in her words. This task bestowed upon her was an honor steeped in poison and yet...there was nowhere to go. "Will you allow me to proceed, or should I leave you?"

[crownsandembers]

Aeron didn’t look to her at first. Instead his heavy gaze loomed down to the chain gripping his wrists.

“Death certainly isn’t the worst fate.” He replied, his voice roughened by all that he’d endured these past few days. He flexed his fingers, and the metal of the chains answered with a muted clink. Only then did he lift his eyes to her. He could sense the slight tremble in her words. Good, she wasn’t entirely foolish.

His wrist turned slightly, chain drawing taut. A quiet warning meant as much for himself as for her.

“If you proceed…” Aeron finished, eyes dark and steady on hers. “You do exactly what you’re doing now. Slowly. No sudden movements. No reaching for the chains. And if I tell you to step back, you damn well do it. No questions asked.”

[rowan-pinewood]

Tuve was a raggard sight; but not quite as hollow-cheeked and dead eyed as many of those that had traveled this far north before. They stood with their feet firmly planted to the stone floor of the man's long hall, bow slung over one shoulder, and tucked down the worn wool scarf in order to reply. Braced themself:

"I- I am Tuve M-Myrkved. I am- I am a... I see... I can... Th-there..." The voice, despite their firm determination, faltered and stuck in their throat. They cleared it, frowning, determined to get their point across: "There is a dark- a dark moon hanging- hanging over the North. Blood, soon. In a month's time. You must- you must act. Now."

[crownsandembers]

“A dark moon…” Eirik repeated coldly. He straightened from the hearth, broad shoulders rolling back beneath the pelt of a wolf. “I have men who read bones. Women who watch the stars. Old ones who dream with their eyes open.” His jaw tightened, just a fraction. “None of them spoke of a moon dripping red.”

[crownsandembers]

Muse: Aeron Wolfsbane Basic Info: A cursed warrior bound by ancient magic to restrain the beast within. Feared as much as he is relied upon. Aeron is controlled, guarded, and painfully self-aware. Fiercely protective by instinct, and terrified of what closeness might unleash. Open To: All, f if romantic.

“You shouldn’t be this close.” Aeron warned, his voice low and restrained. The chain at his wrist shifted when he moved. “People who stand where you are now…” He continued through gritted teeth, his gaze lifting to them at last. “They don’t tend to walk away unchanged, if at all.”

[rgnaroc]

                              ♡      𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐠𝐢𝐟 𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐤

finished commission: click the source link below to be redirected to 650 gifs (268x151px) of howard charles in the musketeers season 3. all of these were made by me from scratch so don’t claim as your own or redistribute. please like/reblog if you found this helpful. remember, my gif commissions are open ! in case you’re interested you can find the information here.  

possible tw: guns, weapons, kissing, fire, horses.

[lerabova]

—   ⁺  𝐋𝐄𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐓𝐄𝐑  ,  1993  [ #790 GIFS ] VIKINGS: VALHALLA S1  /  leo suter is white, please cast accordingly and use appropriately. all of the gifs have been created from scratch by me. to purchase the gifs please click the source link. do not edit, claim as your own or add into your own hunts! time and effort were spent into making these gifs, a like or a reblog would be much appreciated!

[ ! ] commission work: to view commission info, click here

[ ! ] content warning: alcohol, blood, kissing, partial nudity

[ ! ] this is a private commission only available through payhip

[crownsandembers]

Muse: Eirik Thorne Basic Info: Northern Warlord who rules without a crown. He’s feared in the South, but fiercely loyal to his own people. Touch averse in public, but intensely devoted in private (make of that what you will). Open To: All, f if romantic.

“Nobody ever ventures North on accident.” Eirik warned, but only silence followed, save for the crackling of the fire. He braced an arm against the hearth. His gaze lingered on the stranger before him, assessing every detail with a sharp eye. “And yet…” He murmurred. “Here you stand.”