Consort

RONJA. “the first thing you notice are her eyes. they’re blue. and maybe the colour is only so startling because you’ve not seen it in a long time. marx once said that religion was the opiate of the masses. you have arrived at the conclusion that marx was never in love. she longs for a future as stunning as she is and she describes it to you, with a restless energy, painting words into the air. you watch regimes fall alone and try to anchor to nothing, for the permanence of the past is arbitrary. she whispers in your ear “imagine a world alight.” you don’t tell her it’s not that hard with her around. before, you only saw in grey now all you see is blue.” — one of the masses | M.C.

[maidenxfthemxuntains]

On the Run

[mindarchmage-blog]

astatheloner:

Her arm and leg throbbed, she felt as if she had a knife in her side from running. Her breathing had returned to normal from the tiny cat nap she manage to take. The woman’s voice made her relax slightly, as she could move back into the cave wall anymore, she stilled her body.

Asta was shaking from exhaustion and her nerves, this combination along with the fact that she was getting chased made her weary. Her ear were still ringing slightly from the fall. “A.. Asta…” Her voice was shaking, she had never felt this exhausted before. “A… Are… The men… With you..?”

She was afraid and didn’t want the horrors that would come to her if she got captured. Asta had been able to get out, but the threats were still fresh in her mind. She now takes mental notes of her body, she does not think her leg is broke, but her arm was a different story.

“If.. You own… Or live here, I can leave… I… Think I can walk.. But I think my arm is broke..” On top of the exhaustion, she was getting hungry too.. Just how long was she out?

“No, the men are not with me,” she says, keeping her voice low and calm. She can see the fear, the faint panic in the young girl’s eyes, and she does not want to make it worse. The girl will only hurt herself more if she does, and she is in a bad enough state as it is. She glances over her shoulder towards where the horses are waiting outside; they are grazing, calm and relaxed. Their relaxed state of mind tells her they are safe, at least for now. That could change in a blink of an eye.

“Asta?” The same name as her eldest daughter. It make her chest feel tight and it only drives her want to help the young woman even more. Another glance towards the horses, and she begins to rise, shifting back to head outside. “If you can walk, come with me. I will get you on the horse, and get you out of here.”

She is not in her own territory. As far as she’s aware, this is unowned wilderness, but the men’s presence makes her wary, nervous. Maybe she has crossed into the lands of men without being aware of it. She hadn’t been paying close attention to where the injured horse had been leading her, and now she wishes she had been more vigilant. 

“My lands are to the north. I can take you there, if you have no place to go. There is food and shelter, and those men will not dare cross into the mountains,” she says, looking towards Asta once more. She is willing to help, if the woman needs it, but she will wait to see if she can at least make it to the mouth of the cave.

[mindarchmage-blog]

stellatanox:

Once the arrowhead is retrieved and tucked away with the rest, Stell would sit back down on the cold stone of the stairs, careful to leave distance between herself and Ronja. She sits there in silence for a few moments, listening to the wind blowing against the walls and the bustle of the city outside, but as the older woman continues to speak the tension slowly leaves her shoulders and eventually she offers Ronja another small smile.

“I appreciate you talking to me, ma’am. I have a question though… you said that you do the same thing. But you’re a queen and more importantly you’re kind. From what I’ve seen everyone loves you. Why would anyone tell you differently?”

Ronja keeps Stell in the corner of her eye, not wanting to look right at her, lest she cause her more stress. The younger woman seems to have some sort of fear of her, or some kind of nervousness in her presence. It’s not a surprise to her, of course; she wouldn’t be the first to be a bit nervous in front of her, and she won’t be the last, though Ronja would prefer it to not happen at all.

A hum passes her lips, and her eyes close. She had seen Stell begin to relax, her tight shoulders loosening to a more comfortable posture, and Ronja no longer feels like Stell is about to bolt at any second. She is quiet now, thinking of how to word her answer to the woman’s question.

“I was not always a queen, you know,” she says. “I was a stray, a mercenary, even, way back when I was much younger. That is when I met Emmeline, but that is... another story.” A chuckle, and her eyes open once more. She looks towards Stell, head tilting to the side as she continues to form her answer. “Back then, people cared little for me. I was little more than a wanderer, and a half-elf one than that. I was neither human nor elf, and that made me lesser to many. I let that get under my skin for years and years... I almost had the thought to cut the points of my ears off. But... with time and the help of my wife, I overcame that.”

[mindarchmage-blog]

[ tfw u forget ur only active blog ]

[mindarchmage-blog]

[ all these norse mythology blogs makes me want to bring back my Senua blog ]

[sisterofthewolves]

[wolveswolves]

[live-vibe-deactivated20140108]

[te5seract]

Morning Light, Pristine & Cold as Ice by Ole Henrik Skjelstad

[visualechoess]

[woedans-deactivated20250801]

b u r i a l m o u n d s  ermelo, the netherlands facebook // instagram

[chaos-self]

[maidenxfthemxuntains]

On the Run

[mindarchmage-blog]

astatheloner:

Asta was running in the woods. She could hear the sounds of horses behind her, getting closer. Her breath was getting short and a harp pain in her side intensifies with every step. She wasn’t paying attention as she turns around to look behind her.

A loud sharp scream pierces the air as the ground disappears from underneath her. Soon after falling, she hits the hard ground with a cry of pain. Backing up against the wall of earth she fell from, her eyes look for the source of the sound she just heard. Her arm was throbbing, not seeing what made the sound, Asta limps towards a cave she sees.

Walking in, she goes as far as she could, she didn’t want the people that were chasing her to find her. Asta slides down, closing her eyes. She was dosing off when she felt someone watching her, opening her eyes, Asta let a surprised noise out. “Please, don’t hurt me…”

She looks at the figure in front of her, it was dark in the cave so she could barely see the face. “I.. I am hurt… I won’t be here long…”

Ronja had been rounding up an injured horse when she heard the scream. The wounded animal had taken shelter in the woods, but hadn’t made it far before Ronja managed to rope it, and keep it from running off and hurting itself further. But all that is all but pushed from her thoughts at the sound of a human scream. Her ears twitch, and the sound of hoofbeats begins to reach them too.

A gentle nudge of her heels and a click of her tongue, and her steed begins to weave through the dark trees at a light trot, her wounded catch following with a limp in its right back leg. The unfamiliar hoofbeats are beginning to become louder, and she slows to allow them by. They seem to have lost their quarry by the way they slow and gather together, speaking to one another in a tone that Ronja cannot quite hear. 

When they leave, Ronja circles around to find tracks. She doesn’t find tracks, but she does see the chunk of earth that had been ripped by Asta’s fall. An easy assumption to make, as she can in fact make out a human-shaped imprint in the ground below, or at least, the imprints of what she thinks is an arm and hips. Tying the injured horse to her saddle, she slides down and begins to head for the cave that the now visible tracks are heading towards.

“Easy now,” she murmurs when she enters the mouth of the cave. Her approach seems to have been noticed, and the poor woman looks exhausted and afraid. “I won’t hurt you. I want to help.” She lowers herself down some, almost kneeling, so that she appears less intimidating. “What is your name, dear?”

[eidolonland]

[witchedways-blog]

bewitched forest 

[mindarchmage-blog]

“Once again, the gods spread cheeks and ram cock in fucking ass!”

Spartacus Quote Starters // @hollowgale

“Come now, Emmeline, the children are trying to rest. You will wake them, and I would rather not have Brandt parroting such a vulgar sentence,” Ronja says, looking over her shoulder towards her wife. She’s busying herself by sewing a tear in her youngest daughter’s shirt. But her fingers pause in their work, and she sets it aside, thinking that perhaps her wife needs reassurance, and not chiding, if she is this worked up about something.

She rises from the chair by the fire, and comes to stand at Emmeline’s back, hands resting on her shoulders. She can only assume that the war is causing the outburst, the frustration at its core. Her fingers curl into tense muscles, thumbs pressing against a couple of spots to help ease the tight posture her wife is sitting in. “What’s causing such troubles, my love? Are the war plans not shaping up the way you had hoped?”

[allmothermemes]

Spartacus Quote Starters

“One day you may not have a choice.”

“There is always a choice.”

“Once again, the gods spread cheeks and ram cock in fucking ass!”

“ There are many men in this place that I would see dead. You are not among them.”

“The snake arrives, walking as if human.”

“I have had my fill of words and tearful farewells.”

“He was not a perfect man; but he was mine.”

“The child is yours.”

“They are but loyal. A quality you seem unfamiliar with.”

“You have always been destined for unfortunate things.”

“I’m for wine and the embrace of questionable women.”

“The nights grow so cold. What am I to do without you in our bed?”

“Why are you here, in this place, under my hospitality? Do you know why?”

“Well then, how do you know she still lives?”

“How do you know the heart beats beneath your chest?”

“A man must accept his fate, or be destroyed by it.”

“It will end one day, and we will be reunited.”

“What else did the Gods tell you about my future?”

“That you will never love another woman.”

“I am a villain. But I’m not your villain.”

“You do not desire me?”

“I desire only sleep. And the absence of dreams.”

“You are my heart. I will never doubt the beating of it again.”

“It is a distance to travel- from a woman’s mouth to the man’s ears.”

“A man is never too weak or wounded to fight, if the cause is greater than his own life.”

“If a single life holds no value, then none are of worth.”

“Pain is erased when inflicted upon others.”

“There are many things given to us in this life for the wrong reasons, what we do with such blessings is the truest test of the man.”

“You do not love me?”

“I once asked the same of you, do you recall your reply?”

“It’s better to die upon your feet, than to live upon your knees.”

“There is no justice, not in this world.”

“Not every venture ends in climax.” 

“Proper is a word forged by man who seek to enslave us with it.”

“A man must do what he can to brace against the shit of a simple day.”

“Death comes to us all. Press me again, and you will find yours.”

“Freedom is not a stick of wood to be presented as a bone to obedient dog. It is a thing all men deserve.”

[mindarchmage-blog]

stellatanox:

Stell can’t help but smile back, though as Ronja touches her shoulder she shifts away ever so slightly, a movement born more of habit than discomfort. As she  considers her response she ducks her head, letting her unruly black hair spill over her shoulders to hide her face and form a sort of barrier between the two of them. She fidgets with the arrow in her grasp, wrapping an unwrapping the sinew meant to hold the fletchings in place, and mumbles. “You’re not wrong, ma'am. It’s just… very easy to listen to what others say when they speak so loudly and I can’t always find reason to disagree with them.”

After a moment’s pause, Stell’s silence is broken by a sudden clatter as she shifts again and accidentally knocks an arrowhead down the stairs. She stoops to retrieve it, mumbling curses and apologies under her breath as her face takes on a light shade of red. 

Seeing the recoil from her touch, Ronja pulls her hand back in a swift jerk, not wanting to make Stell uncomfortable, and it’s clear that being touched is not something she cares for. Ronja offers her an apologetic smile, and folds her hands together in her lap. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to cause you any discomfort,” she murmurs, thinking it best to offer a verbal apology. She tucks this knowledge into the back of her head, though.

“It is. I know it is. But... sometimes you have to remember that people will speak badly of a person they don’t like, twist even good things about them into a bad light. They may even make you believe it too,” she says. But she hesitates in her speech as the clatter of an arrowhead bouncing off the stone steps interrupts her. She lifts a hand, just for a moment, instinct leading her towards a quick cast of a spell, but she stops, and lowers her hand. No need to out herself for something so simple. “You’re alright, dear. Little accidents happen to the best of us.”

[mindarchmage-blog]

arthuriian:

Arthur watched the young woman as she set her glance on the boat he was mentioning. Her words made him nod his head lightly. “Camelot is more peaceful than most places around it.” he told her. “But like you said there is always a threat. Anywhere. ” he nodded his head to her. “Alas, it was just a boat, Your Majesty. It is a fact that we men like to show our greatness in a way or another right in front of a woman. I remind you that it was just a boat though.”

Young, she is not. While she is only just beginning to show her age, it is rather obvious that she has at least a few decades over him, though perhaps more than it appears. Her skin no longer so smooth as it had been in her younger years, and she no longer has the slim figure of a woman still searching for a life partner.

“I am aware it is only a boat. I was simply teasing, Your Majesty,” she replies, a gloved hand reaching for the hair at her right ear, intending to tuck it back. She hesitates, though, remembering something, and changes the movement to swipe some windswept hair back into place. “Men are the same everywhere, no matter which sex happens to be the one holding the power, as are monarchs. Both like to show off.” Her hands return to their place in front of her, and she pulls her sleeves back down as the cool wind picks up around them.

“Have you ever been to our lands, Your Majesty? Mine and Queen Emmeline’s, that is,” she asks, wanting to make a bit of conversation. “It may be a land of ice and snow, but it is quite beautiful.”