T E Y R N A

Some days it storms, some days it shines. This is how flowers grow. ((Independent Roleplay Blog for Celia Mac Tir))

[gaudiumvivere]

[elizabethmitchellfanclub-deacti]

Lost Ladies Appreciation Week • Day 5 - Female Character → Juliet Burke | Lyric ↳ “My Skin” by NATALIE MERCHANT

[visualjunkee]

“Dream A Little Dream” - Model: Georgia May Jagger | Photographer: Venetia Scott | Styling | Bay Garnett | Hair: Tomo Jidai | Makeup: Sharon Dowsett *Chloe, Dolce & Gabbana, Eudon Choi, Paul & Joe, Louis Vuitton…*

[eglantinc]

' hug me ' fereldanroyalty

Prompt || Accepting

    Dear little Anora. Such a strong willed girl even at her young age, and had proven such since the day she had learned to walk on her own two legs. Fierce, determined, demanding, and ever did she seem like she was already queen of the world. Considering who exactly her parents were, that should come as no surprise. But even so, lessons had to be taught in even the simplest and most endearing matters if it is to be instilled properly.

    “Oh, you know I’m always ready for a hug from you, my darling…” Her voice is warm and kind, but there is an accompanying lit to her tone and raise to her brow that holds the expecting sternness one might expect from a mother. “But don’t I even get a ‘please’?”

[eglantinc]

❝ it’s going to be okay. ❞ ( one last one because help I need shipping )

Prompt || Accepting

    She looks to scoff, to brush off the unsettling display of weakness as though it had been nothing more than a stumble. But the tight grip around her waist that kept her upright after her collapse and that knowing glint in glacier eyes tell her that dismissal would not be taken lightly here. And it’s for that reason Celia finds it difficult to meet his gaze without relent.

    “– I’m fine.” She had just missed a meal, that was all. Too much stress and lack of food was all that left fair skin more pallid still, and she would be back to normal within the hour. She was fine. “You don’t need to fret so, Loghain.”

[vhenadhal-blog]

the man from u.n.c.l.e. (2015) sentence starters

tw disordered eating, alcohol, gendered slurs, violence

❝ you look important… or at least your suit does. ❞ ❝ statements like that can get you into a lot of trouble around here. ❞ ❝ make yourself comfortable, why don’t you.  ❞ ❝ you’re wasting your time. i haven’t seen him for 18 years. ❞ ❝ if i had 15 minutes, we’d drink tea, eat biscuits; i’d talk, you’d laugh, and we’d be on our way. ❞ ❝ are they still following us? ❞ ❝ when you hear something that sounds like a gunshot, drive. ❞ ❝ you can’t be serious. ❞ ❝ excuse me dear, i just need to use your back door. ❞ ❝ hug me. ❞ ❝ what’s that? it smells like feet. ❞ ❝ how long was your prison sentence? ❞ ❝ don’t ever make the calamitous error of mistaking my deliberate short-sightedness for blindness. ❞ ❝ look at ‘em. merrily oblivious as we labor tirelessly to save them from extinction and not even a ‘thank-you.’ ❞ ❝ don’t kill your partner on your first day. ❞ ❝ i’m sure you understand humiliation better than most. ❞ ❝ my woman would never wear anything like that. ❞ ❝ smoothly done. ❞ ❝ you can’t put a paco rabanne belt on a patou. ❞ ❝ and remember… take it like a pussy. ❞ ❝ not very good at this whole ‘subtlety’ thing, are you? ❞ ❝ either you start to look like you know what you’re doing, or i’m out of here. ❞ ❝ would you like a bigger glass? ❞ ❝ no fun dancing by yourself; i need a partner. ❞ ❝ don’t you make me put you over my knee. ❞ ❝ so you don’t want to dance… but you do want to wrestle. ❞ ❝ i like my women strong. ❞ ❝ now we are engaged. again. ❞ ❝ i am neither a goat, nor your sister, so… get your hands off me. ❞ ❝ i’m okay, i think. ❞ ❝ i’ve been on a diet, my dear. just caviar and champagne for three weeks. ❞ ❝ you see, each one of us has a destiny… and i believe i can help you with yours. ❞ ❝ you can see the future? ❞ ❝ i can see us having lunch tomorrow. alone. ❞ ❝ darling, time to go. ❞ ❝ they had it coming. ❞ ❝ you need to control your temper. ❞ ❝ i think he’s an athletic, good-looking gazillionaire, who’s offered me a job and made advances towards me. ❞ ❝ i quite like him. ❞ ❝ i don’t know what you’re upset about, you’re not even my fiance! ❞ ❝ the thing is… i work better alone. ❞ ❝ i’m not leaving. ❞ ❝ and what, exactly, did you do to him? ❞ ❝ just shut up and watch me work. ❞ ❝ you’re trembling. ❞ ❝ it’s going to be okay. ❞ ❝ i’ll be close by. ❞ ❝ help yourself to a drink. ❞ ❝ so sorry to keep you waiting. ❞ ❝ i thought i was doing so well. ❞ ❝ the fault doesn’t lie in your performance. ❞ ❝ she seemed so innocent. ❞ ❝ i’m so sorry i can’t stay to finish you off myself. ❞ ❝ man has only two masters in this world, and their names are pain and fear. ❞ ❝ i never thought i’d say this, but i’m actually quite pleased to see you. ❞ ❝ it’s okay. i would have done exactly the same thing in your position. ❞

[eglantinc]

celia mac tir: will she kiss you or will she hit you

you won’t know until it’s too late

[atonings]

❝ so you don’t want to dance… but you do want to wrestle. ❞ (slides to u late)

meme || accepting

—✕ █ ▌❝What? Yes? No…?❞

T’is odd to see the esteemed general, scarred hero of war, cold eyed soldier go pale in cheek, with fingers rising to be softly bit upon with the tips of teeth. The Teyrna, how she dances around his inelegant language, not as a treacherous spy but in such a forefront attitude. There are times, he knows, when her clever barbs are responded to with snaps of his own, like two dragons dueling, spitting flames. The foundations for relationships are not always quarrelsome battles, regardless of that being the center point of their first meeting. Some moments are focused on politics, others on learning about the other, all rolled up amid curious tongue tied moments such as this. Wrestling and dancing, each have their own implications of which Loghain is admittedly nervous to explore, his feet shuffling in tentative movements in a subconscious effort of avoidance. Avoidance of which is sternly shoved aside to be replaced by warm, bold response, cheeks now tinged with red.

❝Do you wish to wrestle—?❞

[eglantinc]

yfip Fritz: using Hamilton lyrics for tags and also making me cry over Celia and Loghain!!!!!!!

    “If I could grant you peace of mind…                                             that would be enough.”

[darshanasuresh]

my lover comes home from the war with bleeding teeth. he touches me like he’s scared he’s going to break me, like he’s scared that if he presses too hard i’ll bruise. when we kiss he draws back inside himself, when we laugh he never really seems to be laughing. my lover comes back from the war with darkened eyes. he is gentle with me, so gentle. so soft. he says sorry a thousand times a day, says i love you with a desperation that makes us both breathless. gentle. when i ask him why he can’t be that way with himself, he doesn’t reply. my lover comes home with bruised knuckles and sunken cheeks. in the nights i hear him crying and in the mornings i wake with his head pillowed on my chest and his heart cradled in my hands.  my lover comes back to me daily, but daily we flinch at his new wounds. scattered across his wrists, in his eyes, in the way he startles at every small sound. my lover has always returned, but sometimes we’re both afraid that one day he just WON’T anymore.

Broken and Breaking  by Darshana Suresh (via illripyourthroat)

[thesxmmersword]

Oh but Cauthrien so wishes he would. A deep and dark heart of her yearns for the Arl to give her a reason, gift her an excuse to rid him of his ragged head and spill blood for the insults offered. She would raise the whole blighted Castle to the ground if Celia’s eternal patience ever crumbled under the weight of his scorn. For surely Fereldan would be in better hands if only Celia Mac’Tir were holding it.

But no, the world was never perfect and nothing was ever simple and fate had decreed that Celia had to bare snide comments and looks, and Cauthrien had to restrain herself from avenging them.

“.. I would shame him with words if I could, but I do not think I have the subtlety for such a form.” She huffed, annoyed at her uselessness under such circumstances to protect her Lady’s honour. Still, she leaned close briefly to murmur in her ear. “Though Lady Isolde shivers so much in that dress that I wonder if she might survive the Fereldan Winter.”

[eglantinc]

    “Mm, he didn’t prepare his dear paramour very well, did he? I feel a little bad for her.”

    Though pity was somewhat overrun by tempered annoyance, that the two seemed such a rather niche fit certainly did not help matters. Indeed, the pair seemed quite a perfect match -- something that Celia was uncertain was odd or fitting.

    It was times like these where she rather envied her husband. As the right hand to the King and leader of his armies, most tended to understand why he, and his general demeanor encouraged them not to press when rejected. She, on the other hand, had become something of the official face of the eastern Teyrnir. And considering her technically higher standing than Eamon (a fact that she might admit hoping bothered him), it would be rude of him not to invite her and her refusing attendance could very well hurt them in other ways, considering his popularity. 

    How he was so, she could only somewhat see, but Celia supposes that didn’t matter. So long as he treated his people well, she would deal with whatever personal issues arose.

    Smoothing out her dress to briefly appease idle hands, Celia can only be grateful that she’d caught a break between the upper class rambles off of matters ranging from frivolous to mildly relevent, even if it was getting dreadfully dull. How long did she need to be here, again? 

   “For her sake, I hope she learns quickly, if Eamon’s insistence of her presence is anything short of telling. You would think he’d offer her a thicker coat.”

[atonings]

pecks his cheek

—✕ █ ▌A rustle of paperwork twixt his fingers, inked nub carefully scratching at parchment with a measured hand. By the lights of lanterns merrily guttering, Loghain signs paper after paper, his concentration obvious proof that he is but a novice at calligraphy. Hand cramps at the fingers, ink stained digits twitching in annoyance. The door opens with a creak just as he’s brushing fingers through waves of hair, the stone etched qualities to his features worn away as if by erosion. It is a smile that becomes him now, rare and small that it is, as features become defined by an influx of light. She arrives with the gentleness of someone who also knows ferocity, greeting Loghain with a kiss that may be but a peck, but still something which charges his bones.

❝Mm, thank you, dear.❞

[eglantinc]

gives Celia a sMOOCH

    “Miss me, did you?”

[cestpasfaux24601]

Teyrn Loghain Mac Tir, the brilliant commander. Pity the one time you tried to rule, you failed so miserably. You had to be beaten, humiliated, lest you destroy your own country. You even doomed the Wardens by bringing the Inquisitor down on them. You destroy everything you touch.

Is that all you’ve got? It’s nothing I’ve not said to myself.

[thesxmmersword]

@eglantinc

“My Teyrna, please remember to be kind to yourself.”

[eglantinc]

    “Oh? Now this isn’t Ser Cauthrien lecturing me, is it?”

[vaneessaives]

You are so p u r e and yet so b r o k e n (insp)

[eglantinc]

    Steel blue eyes watched the boy before her with caution. Much had been said through many mouths that reached her ears, tales of both valiance and treachery, none of which she could confirm for truth herself. But her husband was convinced of his threat to the country, and to his involvement of the death of her son-in-law. Loghain, despite his surly demeanor, had only the best in heart for his country and family, and does not make such accusations carelessly or without due cause -- that should be enough for the Teyrna to set a steeliness towards him that he could surely feel.

    And yet... Celia was uncertain. Many stories had been tossed about, the change in Loghain’s demeanor, word she had heard from Anora herself. And with that snake of a man, Rendon Howe, whispering in his ear... She might be ashamed to admit that her trust was somewhat shaken.

    She could be certain of nothing anymore.

    Yet now here he was, the eye of the storm, in some strange twist of fate. A rescuer or subduer, she wonders?

    “So... Am I to assume you are this Grey Warden I have heard word of?”

『 @animaxsalutator || starter call 』