LION / HEART.

[leoncoevr-blog]

so phraxia. totally random anon asking you here, what's up with you and that handsome brenner fellow? 👀

it wasn’t as if their... relationship had ever been a secret. for a while it had been a rush to pretend as if they were. to sneak away to the forest surreptitiously, but when both of them reappeared after being missing for hours, muddy, and with a few obvious marks adorning their throats, the situation was quite obvious. it was their split that had been a mystery to most, where usually they couldn’t be separated, the instant they broke apart, both went missing for months. and when euphraxia returned from her absence a year later, a haunted look replaced the usual soft smile that graced her features, and she and brenner would only exchange a few brief pleasantries. 

the chuckle escapes her before she can help it. “handsome, hm? don’t let him hear that, it’ll go right to his head. besides, brenner and i...” no one knew her better than brenner keaton, and the same went for him. she had studied him a thousand times in a thousand different ways--- they had been friends before they became lovers, she had nearly three hundred years of material to base her findings on--- and it was that familiarity that chased her from his arms. an embrace that she missed more than anything, now. her smile doesn’t fall, but it does shrink, less of a mark of amusement and more of a small look of affection at the memories that race through her mind. “it is in the past, now. who knows what might have been.” 

she thinks about what might have been nightly, possibilities of what kind of life they could have lead together haunts her dreams. something good could have come of it. something good had come from the two of them together, and she had shoved it into someone else’s arms and sent it away to ur’dunnir. euphraxia could withstand a good amount of physical pain, she’d broken plenty of bones in the three centuries she spent as a rider, but emotional pain--- true loss--- had always been her greatest fear, and her greatest weakness. the mere possibility of loss had chased away everything she ever loved. her smile falls, then.

@brennerkeaton

[leoncoevr-blog]

@ofdraqcns​.

“it isn’t that i’m questioning your methods, rowan, respectfully---”a look of disdain is directed to the sword hanging weakly in her hands, dragging on the ground. vesper knows that she is going to have to learn how to fight. the dread is coming, regardless of whether she’s ready or not. “---can’t you just teach me some defensive spells? surely that would be just as effective as a sword?” becoming a rider had been the greatest thing to happen to her, and she respected her master beyond words--- but the thought of piercing someone’s flesh and pushing... she shudders before she could even finish her thought. 

[harritudur]

[leoncoevr-blog]

VESPER ARMNELL, who strongly resembles SOPHIE TURNER, has made the Shallune Cliffs their home. They are a 22 year old HUMAN. She is known to be +CLEVER & +COMPASSIONATE, but also -ALOOF & -STRAINED. She is an APPRENTICE dragon rider, bonded to a 4 old WYVERN named ATHERA. She is BRASS colored, & can be +LOYAL, but also -POSSESSIVE.

there are allusions to attempted sexual assault in this, i can give a synopsis to any who don’t want to read this.

vesper is distrustful by nature.

she learned very early on that her parents valued her as a tool--- a political bargaining chip before anything else. 

her mother was sister to the king, making her a duchess, and ensuring that her life did not belong to herself. 

as heir to her mother’s title, vesper was trained to be a courteous and charming woman before she was ever allowed to be a child. she wasn’t so naive and selfish to think that she was the most troubled person in the world, but stress sometimes suffocated her.

it was a lot to handle, for a child.

betrothal followed not long after her sixteenth birthday. an heir to a substantial amount of land && wealth. his handsome face did not improve his horrid personality.

the week they first met included an event in which he slapped a maidservant for dropping a tray and screamed at vesper when she went to assist in collecting the pieces of broken china.

the mere thought of him tormented her for the next two years.

one night, during his week-long visits, she woke to him sneaking into her room. it took a few minutes for a knight to answer her cries. her one loyal knight--- who wouldn’t accept his bribery, struck him, and dragged him out of her room.

in the morning, vesper was forced to face just how little her happiness was valued to her family. she was punished for reacting so “dramatically” and was forced to apologize. her knight was dismissed, but she caught them before they could leave.

she wouldn’t give her betrothed another chance to attack her, so she fled, with her knight, to the shallune cliffs.

barely eighteen years old--- she knew the possibilities were slim, but she saw bonding with a dragon as her only hope for freedom.

the brass egg splintered and cracked beneath her fingers, and the little hatchling that crawled out of the pieces was named athera and she never loved anything more.

she’s only been an apprentice for four years, and while she excels in the more academic aspects of training--- fighting eludes her. she’s clumsy with a sword and shield. better with daggers and bows.

vesper is TERRIFIED of her family finding her, even though she knows that they can’t really touch her, now that she’s a dragon rider. she’s mostly afraid of her (ex)fiancee finding her.

please hug her. she’s tryin her very best.

when she isn’t training or riding, she’s reading, painting, or doing needlepoint, she’s still in the habit of behaving like a young noblewoman.

WANTED CONNECTIONS

her knight!! her knight in shining armor!! could be of any gender. likely became close because of them saving her and grew closer over the trip to shallune. 

dragon rider friends!! she’s probably still very distant with most people--- anxious to open up after having been trained from a young age to stay detached.

sparring partner! help her!! she’s hopeless with weapons!!! and general fighting!! she holds herself back because she isn’t completely free of the mindset of being a Proper Lady.

siblings/cousins. she’s the eldest child of her parents, meaning, at most, her younger sibling would be eighteen at this point. but she is cousins with the arslan family!! bring her cousins to be close to!! she would probably be a scandalous figure in their family, by now, but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ more drama 🅱️lease.

love interest?? she’s a lil girl who hasn’t had the most pleasant experiences in the way of romantic/sexual relationships. it would probably be a very soft relationship that would be taken very slow, would definitely need to be plotted out first, and, of course, relies on chemistry.

[leoncoevr-blog]

like for a starter from vesper !!

[wolveswillcome]

[dailytolkien]

[leoncoevr-blog]

drxconics:

— IT WASN’T THAT CAELUM DISLIKED TRAINING, he just disliked training on some days. like days he’d had trouble sleeping the night before, or days he’d rather be experiencing life to the fullest, or exploring somewhere exciting, or just taking a nap. zydrid was off training himself, testing his agility skills — an area in which he lacked as a drake — and the twins were off in their own classes, so caelum was left alone. “oh ma’am, i’d just love that,” he drawled sarcastically. the history lessons were the worst. although part of him was grateful for it, seeing as he’d never gotten a formal education, another part of him was keenly aware he’d lived an entire life knowing none of this and had been just fine. diplomacy lessons were another pain in the ass. he wasn’t a diplomatic, calming person by nature, so the act of mediating did not come naturally. “how about, instead, we make a deal. you don’t tell anyone we skipped today’s training, i don’t tell anyone. we both enjoy a relaxing day and no one will be the wiser.” he hopped down from his perch on the fence despite his words and followed his master to the training yard. he may push her buttons and toe the line of respectable behavior, but he tried not to cross it…too often. “what weapons will we be using today?” he asked, eyeing the selection and silently praying for swords. he didn’t do well with axes, or spears, and he especially hated bow and arrow. 

a laugh follows not far after his suggestion. “and deny myself your company? perish the thought,” she chuckles. his wit was amusing and especially refreshing in these dark and uncertain days. this didn’t help her worry, however. as entertaining as his little rebellion was, she couldn’t help but see it as him squandering his potential. all the same, she knew that pushing and nagging would only prove to worsen the situation, not improve it. so she played the patient and understanding mentor and partook in their little banter, hoping that it would encourage him. but, still, she worried. especially considering the delicate balance their world was suspended in. her cloak is unclasped and discarded, draped over a bench, and her gloves follow soon after. they had used swords, last they sparred, if her memory served correctly, and she really should be expanding his proficiency with different weapons. in the off chance he, for some reason, couldn’t get his hands on a sword. perhaps she overthought too much. nonetheless, she gives the racks of weapons a once over, then her apprentice a once over, and passes to the axes. "now, would you prefer great axe--” she pats her shoulder, where her own greataxe is strapped to her back. “--or battleaxe?” likewise, she pats the rack of battleaxes beside her. something fiendish glints in her eye, and a smirk tugs are her lips. “i suspect battleaxe would be the better option. wouldn’t want you pulling a muscle on a greataxe.” 

[leoncoevr-blog]

@windrvnncr.

he hated this. this stagnant, tense waiting for what felt like nothing. waiting for more bad news of tragedy and bloodshed that he’ll just have to inform his men of. as if their morale could dwindle much lower. the strain was evident in their faces. he hated that the most. watching those who had come to him, bright-eyed and hopeful slowly drain away. it had him sleepless, pushing him to wander the empty streets, with the company of his lonely, half-empty flask. his path took him to the cliffs, tonight. watching the waves lap at the rocks below, and, for the first night in many, finds himself accompanied. he doesn’t say anything for a long moment, and there’s no charm or jest lingering in his words when he does. “is the morale so low for you riders?"

[leoncoevr-blog]

♬ ◎

send one for my muse’s reaction to your muse ---♬ = singing to them && ◎ = taking care of them while ill

had she been more lucid, the natural domesticity of their current position would have frightened her. fever has suffocated all logic and reason, and all she can do is enjoy the moment. he presses the cool rag to her searing forehead, pulls it away, submerges it in the basin of cool water, and repeats. all the while, he’s singing a sea shanty. at least, she thinks it is, from what little her fevered mind knows of sea shanties. it’s endearing to say the least, and it earns a few giggles that bubble out of her, before spurring a few coughs.

mindlessly, as he turns to press the cloth against her forehead, her hand reaches up and brushes loose curls away from his face, and lazily comb finders through his hair. yes, that fondness that swelled in her would have been terrifying. she means to say something, looking up at his face. many things. soft, sweet words of devotion that she would have regretted once her sanity recovered from it’s sluggish affliction. but her mouth doesn’t obey, instead, she just smiles. after a moment, in a weak and strained voice, she murmurs “perhaps your true calling was as a bard.”

[leoncoevr-blog]

@kanezgwaewen.

she used to love watching the dragons in flight. happily soaring aloft, dodging between clouds, and then diving close to the surface of the lapping waves below. it used to make her think of freedom, of the feeling the riders must have felt, to be so free and powerful. now it just reminded her of her husband, of watching him fly off to his death. she jumps at the sound of footsteps beside her, of another person’s breathing, a hand flying to her belly. “oh!” the smallest shadow of a smile passes over her face upon recognizing kane, and it fades just as suddenly as it had appeared. “you startled me. i hadn’t realized how lost in thought i was.”

[leoncoevr-blog]

@ofarslans.

it would be a poor knight indeed that did not recognize the crown princess, and his eyes bulge at the sight of her, unguarded. he’d heard that the princess was in shallune, but he’d assumed she would have a sizable number of guards protecting her, considering her position. on instinct, his eyes immediately scan the marketplace. he knew that shallune was safe, anyone who dared to commit a crime in the land of dragon riders were fools with a death wish, but his years of experience told him that, if one was going to harm a princess in the first place, they wouldn’t much care about their own well-being. he approaches her in the most relaxed manner as his anxiety will allow, an amiable smile, and a slight bow, trying not to draw too much attention to her. “your highness, might i help you carry these?”

[leoncoevr-blog]

@drxconics​.

“you know, mister maddux, in my personal experience, apprentices generally want to learn how to utilize their abilities to their fullest potential, rather than avoid lessons,” her smile betrays her chastising words as she cranes her neck to look up at him, hands positioned almost comically on her hips. she can’t particularly blame him. the training of a dragon rider is not always as exciting and glamorous as most expect coming into it, especially for someone with his defiant disposition. “but, i suppose we can just go over the ancient families of valura, again, rather than spar as i had planned, i know that noble genealogy is such a passion of yours.” despite her teasing, the steps she takes are toward the sparring yard, already unhooking the clasp of her cloak.

[leoncoevr-blog]

like for a starter from macalla !!

[leoncoevr-blog]

like for a starter from euphraxia !!

[leoncoevr-blog]

like for a starter from duncan !!

[leoncoevr-blog]

brennerkeaton:

he gave her a wary look, not trusting what she might have to say. his heart pounded in his chest and yet he took a step forward and then another until they were only a foot or so apart. brenner wanted to reach up and cup the side of her cheek, to pull her into an embrace, to whisper sweet nothings in her ear, but it wasn’t his choice to make. he hadn’t fled, for once. most who know of their history assume brenner was the one to end things, a fear of commitment characteristic of someone like him, but she had done it. he found himself lost in thought when her voice finally sounded again. forgive me was not something he ever heard from euphraxia. it made his heart beat faster and his stomach twist tighter. what was plaguing her? he did as she directed, walking along side her in the woods. brenner kept a careful eye on euphraxia, afraid she would collapse at any moment. the strangled sound startled him enough for him to grab her hand.  brenner stopped in place, halting her steps as well, and turned her to face him, hands still clasped together. “you’re scaring me. i won’t hurt you, you know that. what is it?”

their joined hands are a point of comfort and pain in equal measure. the sensation too unsettlingly familiar and natural, stirring the feelings which had been frightening enough to chase her from him in the first place. “i know-- that’s not what it is that scares me,” steady inhale, steady exhale. centuries of trained detachment somehow manages to fail her in her greatest hour of need. why did it have to be him? the one person she could ever manage to envision a future with, and she’d mangled it with her cowardice. “i tried to tell you---” she doesn’t mean this to shame him, but her tone still trembles and falls into a hush. “---on that day, before your mission. and i’ve been avoiding it,” for fifty years. that harsh voice barks at her again, calling her a pathetic, spineless child. she chuckles inwardly, almost bitter. “i suppose i still am, aren’t i?” her eyes move from their joined hands to his concerned face, and it’s enough to finally break her. the back of her eyes burn, threatening tears. she’d had decades to tell him of her transgression, that her fear of watching their child grow old and die seemingly surpassed her love for him. she feels as if she might be sick, and the words pour out of her before she can suppress them any further. “i had come to tell you that i was pregnant.”