we burn the same, inside a fire. home // muses
credits . .
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oozey mess

Janaina Medeiros

@theartofmadeline
Sweet Seals For You, Always
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Jules of Nature
styofa doing anything
noise dept.
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we're not kids anymore.

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
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One Nice Bug Per Day
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@fereldanroyalty
we burn the same, inside a fire. home // muses
credits . .
There are many who will be cursing our luck and wishing us to fall. But you, Elizabeth - you may have it all. You love your husband, and he will give you prestige, too. You are blessed.
@cassanabaratheon requested ♦ Catherine Parr (The Tudors) + emotions
Yeah I don’t think there’s a point about beating around the bush so, I’m putting all my blogs (theeternalsun, aureasadrisit, fereldanroyalty and jerkofeverytrade) on full hiatus.
I’ve been very absent from everything and everyone for a very long time, I can’t bring myself to write the few replies that I have, can’t bring myself to plot anymore nor do I feel like I should make myself do so. I’ve been feeling much better ever since taking a break and I think it’s just time to make it official. I might continue writing with a few selective people from eon to eon but, yeah. In general, this is just putting myself at ease and to let you guys know that replies are probably not going to happen. Not sure when or if I’ll return, I still have my queue with stuff going but yeah.
I’m more active on my personal ( @captainskells ) though I’d say that I’m ‘active’ more than anything. Hope that you guys keep having fun, cheers <3
Ser Cauthrien and Queen Anora Mactir on a freezy cold night. You just gotta keep ur Queen warm u know… it’s ur… duty… as her Knight… obviously…
thesxmmersword:
Anora’s slight pull has Cauthrien flowing to her feet, wrapping her arms about her, so damn grateful she’d chosen leathers instead of armour for this visit. She pulls off a glove with her teeth so that her bare fingers could touch, feel, cradle Anora’s head against her shoulder and somehow bear her pain for her, somehow.
And she knew suddenly why many lied to the people they loved. She had always known it, but she understood it now. She wanted so badly to convince Anora it would all be fine, she wanted to swear she could remain by her side forever and that no force could make her leave. But lying is not in her nature and nor would Anora thank her for it.
“I would give anything if it meant you did not have to.” Spoken almost to herself, murmured against the gold of her hair. Perhaps it was to any power that cared to listen, any creature that felt like taking everything she held dear if only Anora did not have to suffer this way. There was no answer, however, as expected.
So she pulled away, just a few inches, just enough to look into her eyes. “Listen to me. None of this was your fault. Rightfully you placed trust in us and we failed you. That the Lords of Ferelden would rebel against you like this, it is an insult, a betrayal and the only right response to them is fury. None of the guilt should be felt by you. By doing this you are going above and beyond what should be expected of you, you are already better than all of them, you do not need to try.”
Words seemed to have a hard time finding their way to Anora’s lips, which, by itself, was a rare occasion for the Queen. A deep breath, shaky, crawls up her throat and is released against the other’s leathers as blonde fringe falls from her ear. Her head tilts towards her knight’s touch, feeling those fingers on her hair after so long was like... coming home and sleeping in your own bed after a long stretch in the countryside, drinking water after so long without touching a drop or any other such nonsense and typical comparisons that one might find in ballads.
Anora’s eyes lift to focus on the other’s, her body still close to hers. In the moments where she knows that feeling safe, that feeling that she is around someone that she can fully trust? She would take the proximity and keep it for as long as she could, holding it close to her until the very end, until her hands turned red and her skin peeled. The Queen did not want to start talking about the nobles and what they had done ( which could be very easily compared to treason, but then again, who was she to talk about treason when her own father had done what he had done? )
“Thank you.” she clears her throat with a flimsy smile. Light eyes moving down to her own hands, short nails, now slightly bitten, pass over her sleeve, straightening it out. White teeth bite against her own lower lip “I am so scared of what might happen, Cauthrien.”
lionreigns:
❝ Tea, Anora? ❞ Celene asked once she was content that her guest was settled. A more confident visitor might have already lifted the small porcelain cup and saucer, painted around the rims with gold-stemmed violets, for the masked servants to fill. They already knew to fill Celene’s cup without asking, but in the meantime, it did not hurt to keep reminding Anora who pulled the strings and directed this gathering, even for something so small.
Beneath her mask, Celene’s eyes flickered to the hem of the Fereldan woman’s dress, where her hands were nervously adjusting the furs. She’d have been too proud to forsake them in favor of fitting in better amongst the Orlesians, if Celene had to guess, but fur was no challenge to silk and crêpe and delicate embroidery of the imperial tailors, was it?
❝ Politics will not politely stop and wait for you to be ready, ❞ she continued after a moment, testing the honeyed spice of the tea. ❝ Your country faced a war and a Blight at the same time — ❞ Which was Anora’s own father’s fault, evidently, something that Celene knew she did not need to say when they were both wholly aware of it. ❝ — and soured relations with the neighbors in the process. Ferelden is your responsibility now, dear. You cannot wait in the shadows expecting things to be resolved on their own, which makes this meeting wholly necessary, don’t you think? ❞
“Maybe later, thank you.” the answer was given with a small smile but in a curt and short manner, cold and pale hands falling over her dress. Her attention now completely focused on the woman in front of her.
“Ferelden was always my responsibility. Before it was mine while standing beside Cailan, now entirely my own, but that is hardly much different than before.” one could say that it was entirely only in terms of words, not even titles changed. Before she had been the Queen because she had been married to the King, the responsibility of the kingdom was hers but in a different manner, of course, or so it should have been. The difference now was that she did the same duties while not pretending to share them with someone else. Not that such an explanation was needed, considering the amount of letters that she and Cailan had shared she was sure enough that Celene had had enough time to hear all about what Eamon had thought of her as a Queen.
Perceptions were, of course, important but she had the hope that for all of the bad blood that lay beneath their feet, that more wouldn't be added over it. Regardless of how much the letters had hurt her or the pain that Orlais had caused on her country. Hope, but not give one’s trust quite so easily. The tip of her lips curls upwards as her head tilts to the side “Being in the shadows or no was never in the question.” she could say plenty more about how the relationship between the King of Ferelden and the Empress had not seemed to sour the relationship between the countries, much to the contrary.
Or maybe perhaps his death had been what had caused such a word to be used. She knew better and her feelings had no place when it came to the safety of her country. Anora gives a small chuckle breathing in, “But, if you were worried that I would not have attempted to mend the soured relationship, I can assure you that an invite would have soon reached your palace had you not sent yours first.“
atonings:
starter call ( accepting ) | @atonings
—✕ █ ▌Celia might clout him later for his lax behaviour, but with a quiver of his own arrows by his side and his favourite bow slung upon his back, he turns a BLIND EYE to his child. More than that, his eyes alight with great encouragement of which many at the King’s court has NEVER seen. He catches himself quick, dignity held just barely behind the low cheer in his voice. ❝Oh MY,❞ he murmurs, well crafted instructions heeded, her posture PERFECT. ❝Good … Good … You LISTENED well … ❞ He tries to keep his voice quiet, hushed, but his pride is BRIMMING, excitement touching the tip of his tongue, his joy burning. ❝Yes!❞ He’s different from the man the Orlesians fear, within the span of a heartbeat smiling bright. He forgets himself, lifting Anora off the ground with proud arms. ❝I KNEW you could do it.❞
Anora giggles but that sound is curbed with a clear of her throat and her teeth biting into the lower lip, head tilting forward. Long locks of blonde falling on small and thin shoulders, small, thin but strong. Or so had the instructor told her, if she wanted to use a bow and arrow she’d need to have a perfect posture and for that the muscles on her back would have to be trained. The instructor had used other words but those were still hard for her to speak and remember. Light eyes glance up with her smile growing and another clear of the throat, it was her hope that doing so would help the red on her cheeks vanish, but it seemed she was out of luck. Her small hands wrap around his neck, squishing it tightly and nearly digging her chin against his shoulder armour “I missed you, daddy. Are you going to stay for long?”
avrorean:
A moment falls as the queen speaks that Nanna cannot help but feel a little in awe. When they had ventured to rescue Anora not days prior, even in the face of such danger and the threat posed by both Arl Howe and her own father, she had stood undaunted when an avenue of escape had presented itself. Truly a woman forged of iron, steadfast in her resolve and quick of wit, so much that Nanna could not help but wonder how all would have gone thus far were a woman like Anora at the helm of this venture against the Blight. A more competent leader she could not think to contend.
And yet that same woman forged of iron, crowned in gold and standing as though the crown was never meant to be worn by another, stood now almost someone entirely different than what the mage had seen before. Something softer, little touches of wear at her polished edges. Something so… human.
Nanna would admit a fascination with this transition; the soft uncertain shuffle of well tended hands in the dim firelight, the gentleness in eyes once seen as icy and hard in a manner that reminded her, without spite intended, of her father. Nanna cannot help but return this unusual display of softness, something in so dangerous a time that she could only take as a small sign of trust, with a smile in turn of gentle kindness.
“Indeed, Your Majesty, your words are true. Hope is not lost to us yet.” There is a small warmth in her chest at the encouragement. However, she knows there is more than this. A sway of midnight curls would accent the tilt of her head in curiosity and invitation. “But, if you would forgive my boldness… Am I wrong to assume that you come bearing more than gratitude weighing on your thoughts?”
“Oh, “ the Queen guessed she had this coming, or at least should have seen it. If she was to be honest, that had been plainly the reason why she had come to the Warden, whatever judgement she and Alistair were to pass on her father and on herself on the coming days were already done. After all, why would Anora think otherwise? Eamon had helped them at every turn, Alistair had been raised by him and he was the senior Warden. And she? She was a mage that had been stuck in a tower, not allowed out by the Chantry and, what was only logical, the kingdom itself. She would not be wrong to resent her and not the man whose child had been kept outside the circle, free. Anora didn’t know that else the situation had been different, but what mattered was what sort of message that passed to everyone else.
She hums to herself, light eyes moving from the warden down to the fire, nails scratching the side of her left hand before moving to cover her stomach with a small smile “I guess I just could not really rest and it dawned on me that we had yet to really talk.”
Anora’s back straightens and her attention returns to Nanna, a sharp sigh leaving her lips. A single step is taken backwards, a way from the fire.
“I hope that I am not bothering you. Or that I’ve prevented you from getting a good night’s rest. Maker knows it’s probably been a while.” Anora chuckles, a barely audible one and only then did it dawn on her how foreign that sound was to her now. How long had it been since she had been in a situation where she had chuckled, laughed even? She takes a few steps towards the door “It has been a while since I’ve gotten the chance to speak with anyone more than a couple of words that are not staff since the armies moved to Ostagar. But maybe it is time to leave you to rest.“
wow I can’t believe Queen Anora Mactir and Ser Cauthrien are so incredibly in love
I have to keep doodling them to let everyone else know, even if the doodles are really rough and super lazy
@fereldanroyalty <3
pose reference from HERE
avrorean:
“Oh… Of course.”
Her smile is kind, but Nanna can sense the unease in the Queen rolling like Ferelden’s own shores. A matter for which she could hardly blame her. This Landsmeet that was all too quickly approaching would surely change the course of Ferelden’s future, the Queen’s future – even one as inexperienced in politics as she could see that quite clearly – and Eamon seemed shameless in the flaunting of his intent for its outcome. The young mage had to wonder if he believed that the presence of the Wardens and Alistair’s supposed claim meant him invincible. Even were that not the source of her discussion now, Nanna has little doubt it would surely rise before the Landsmeet.
“I fear I may have hindered our progress somewhat in doing so, but I was ill at ease with leaving those people behind.” The fact that many companions had scolded her more than once for such an impediment was conveniently left out. In a way they had been correct - much time had been lost to the momentary desire of lending her aid to the helpless, but what reason would there be to stop this great threat were there no one left in their wake to save? Indeed, naive little thing that she was even now, perhaps her heart was too large for her own good. “I only pray all were able to find safety before the rise of the Blight.”
“If it wasn’t for your acts of kindness, I’m sure there would be some parts of Ferelden that would have no one to save when the blight reached them.” the Queen hums more to herself, eyes locked with the side of her fingers, her hands over her stomach before glancing up. A small breath is taken with an almost shy smile. Her right fingers brush against her own skin absently. There were very few sources of light in the past few months, Anora had at times wondered if they all had suffered and spilled Fereldan blood to be free, only to see everything to sink in the Blight, consumed by it. Questions on how things had come to that point, what they had done to deserve such a thing after so much pain a suffering to just be.
But in the end she knew one thing for certain, self pity was not the answer “It is a hard balance, to remain kind and to hold one’s hand. You will learn with time in the position that you are Warden, you are doing great... More than great really.“
She takes the air in sharply, her hand moving to scratch the side of her arm as a small smile forms. The Queen moves slowly across the floor, passing the warden towards the fire. Light eyes move up to focus on her giving the Warden Amell her full attention.
“If there is anything that is certain about us, Fereldans, is that we will survive regardless of what comes.” eyes move to the fire, her lips twisting imperceptibly “I’m hopeful, and you should be too, warden.“
royalwarden:
❛ my queen. ❜ hands fold behind his back and head bows for a moment. even if she hadn’t told him, alistair could tell he wasn’t the one anora wanted to speak to at the moment. ❛ yes, i know. the warden had some more —- preparations to make before fighting the archdemon. they send me with their assurances that i can perform whatever task you need me to. ❜
Anora’s head tilts slightly down and the left hand waves, dismissing the bow. While it was good that she saw such a respect coming from the man that was to depose her if Eamon had his way, it didn’t soothe her. A sharp breath is taken but she does not move forward. Light eyes, find their way towards him, however “I see.” she pauses, her hands moving towards each other and soothing the skin and the edge of her sleeve “I would have assumed that you’d be next to Arl Eamon, preparing.”
IG// rachnoel_13
Victoria in the Season 2 Trailer