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intoxicatiing‌:

The servants entrances? Ruby wondered if Cara had to sneak around like this, or if she simply preferred subtlety when escorting a bloodied Orlesian. Though she spoke quite easily of a sponsor — did it have a different meaning here than in Orlais? Or was Cara already aware of Ruby’s most well known profession? She wondered.

“I’m meeting an old friend in a few days’ time,” she admitted, “but we were ahead of schedule and he won’t be able to receive me until then.” An Orlesian emissary was meant to have known of her visit, and had surely passed on news of her coming, unless, of course, the supposed letter announcing her visit was lost along the way. Or had never been written at all, so she might blame the Ferelden messenger they’d worked with for their incompetency and lack of preparation ahead of time. “But I should hate to impose. I’m sure one of my rings can be exchanged for a few nights at an inn, of course.”

“Nonsense.” Cara shook her head, dismissing her words with a wave of her hand. “It would be unconscionable. When your friend is able, he may come to you here.” Perhaps it wasn’t quite appropriate, but it did seem horribly cruel to just send Ruby off that way. It wasn’t as if there wasn’t room for her to stay with Cara, even in her home in the Alienage if a discreet enough place could not be found in the palace.

“Come, this way. The castle healer will tend to you, and I will find you a fresh set of clothes. We can’t be too dissimilar in size.” Cara added, eyeing Ruby carefully. “Of course, it will only be until we can recover your belongings from the carriage.” What was left of them anyways.

ataintedking‌:

“ ––There could have been others… Can’t be too careful, is all I’m saying. ”

He watches her ( almost ) sullenly, pushing past the pain enough to feel slightly flustered and awkwardly aware of the blood and the dirt. The wine-skin, a questionably clean rag and then the blade – Cara is so careful, so calculating and it doesn’t take much to figure out her intention and slight alarm shifts to mild panic as she grips the fabric of his shirt. He tenses, recoiling with a sharp stab in his shoulder that pin him, helplessly. “ Wait! You don’t have to… ” His voice pitches defensively as she tears with little ceremony, but all further protests are swallowed ( along with his pride ) as he shifts self-consciously under her scrutiny. As far as injuries go, worse were had in a training yard, where stray arrows and terrible aim are common ( There’s always That One Guy ). Needless to say, Templars and Warden’s alike weren’t built for soft handling so it is with polite incomprehension that he blinks up at her vacantly as she offers her hand. “ I… oh. For the pain. I’m not concerned about that. ” Without any precedent to fall back on he simply takes her hand in his with a gentleman’s courtesy, a tenderness that’s starkly out of place amidst the muck and ruin of the recent brawl and hands it back to her with a crooked, boyish grin. “ I appreciate the thought but it’s safe to say I’m rather distracted as it is. Don’t worry. I’ll try not to start screaming and crying or anything. Morrigan will come running – you know how terribly concerned she is. It won’t be pretty. ”

“ Let’s just…Let’s just get this over with, shall we? ” A pause. “ You… have done this before, right? ” Silly question but his eyes search hers in all seriousness. “ Just gauging my chances of losing any limbs and whatnot… ”

“Not this exactly.” Cara admits, grimacing. “But… well, we don’t have any real healers in the Alienage. Just knowledge to be shared. You never know who will be there when a woman goes into labor, or someone takes a bad fall, or…” She’s grasping at more to say - despite what he said, she knows she needs to keep distracting him. Plenty of men have pride until the worst of the pain, and then they need anything to take the edge off. “So we make sure as many people know what to do. Of course there are some who are the most skilled, old women-”

She take that moment to yank the arrow out, continuing to speak. “mostly, they have collected knowledge for so long that they understand best what must be done.” It’s easily the most she’s spoken to him at this point, and it’s solely to keep him distracted. It’s almost funny.

“Of course, I’m not among them, but I have seen more than one bad wound treated.” She’s pouring the wine as she speaks, dabbing the wound dry before ripping a long strip to wrap around his shoulder. “Your arm will be fine, as long as it heals clean. I’ve seen just as bad in the Alienage.”

semisweetshadow

Like Real People Do (Barn on the Farm Sessions)

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#deep blue but you painted me golden;; alistair

" Most attractive feature? Do I... have to pick only one? I have quite a list, you know. Uh...well. not that I sit around making these lists or anything!... Please don't look at me like that. ... Your eyes. You have lovely eyes. Now can we please move on? "

Cara stifled a laugh, a blush rising on her cheeks. She wondered what exactly was on the list other than her eyes, but she was far too shy to ask and she doubted he would be willing to tell her. “That’s so sweet, Alistair. You’re... well, you have lovely eyes too.”

#cue cara wondering if she's been batting her eyelashes at him this whole time #ataintedking

rp-meme-glaceon

What does your muse think is my muse’s most attractive feature?

intoxicatiing‌:

A good Andrastian, huh? Ruby held back any sourness that came with the term, and her own secret Dalish pride. She had been pretending to be a follower of the Maker herself, when it was convenient, and apathetic when need be. But her belief in the Creators had never once wavered, even if her faith certainly had, just as it had in people – human and elvhenn alike. Time would only tell when Carmela decided it time for Ruby to pay her debts for the kindness shown now.

Rather than insisting Carmela owed her no apology, she merely looked down, hands clasped, and nodded. “You’re extending a great kindness to me, and I ought to apologize myself – for causing you trouble, and surely ending your outing prematurely.” Rudeness did not often equate to saving her life, but she didn’t know how to think outside of the Game, the scales of debt one owed another. She was still bleeding, and she was already preparing to play.

“We hadn’t found anything anyways.” Cara smiled faintly, attempting to lighten the mood. She bid farewell to her ladies and began edging her horse down a side street, one of the narrow paths that would take them to the servant’s entrances of the palace, where they wouldn’t be seen. “Is someone here expecting you? A sponsor, a relative?” There would be room for her in the Alienage, where Carmela actually had the power to find housing for someone, but it would be easier if it wasn’t needed.

Finally coming up to the servant’s entrance, Carmela dismounted and held out a hand to help Ruby after her. “If there is someone, I can have word sent while your wounds are tended to.” Left unsaid was why they were at the palace in the first place, instead of her home in the Alienage.

nothingsofanciful

Warden: As your Warden Commander of Amaranthine, I’d like to thank you all for joining the new Ferelden Wardens.

Warden: I mean, I know half of you are here against your will and whatever, but so am I, so suck it up.

intoxicatiing:

A pale flush colored her cheeks in shame. Ruby had always prided herself on being a master of words and double meanings, and Carmela had spoken plainly enough. Maybe they had hit her head harder than she’d thought. She allowed herself to drop her eyes, and nod. “Oh … of course, forgive me I must have misunderstood you, of course…” She would, in this state, not risk any hint of blame being misplaced. Not when she was so far from capable to mishear something so close as that.

With reluctance, Ruby took Carmela’s hand and mounted the horse, notably less graceful than she might have been any other time. She, at least, could make a case for sitting side saddle in her gown, torn as it was. “Thank you, Madame. It’s most charitable of you.” And while she’d heard of the kindness of Carmela Tabris, Ruby couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d have to repay the favor soon enough.

“It is my duty, my lady. As a servant of the people, and as a good Andrastian.” Carmela said simply, urging her horse forward. She really did believe in both those things - though she remained a Grey Warden, her position as Bann had taken priority in the years past. The pressures of the position chafe at her, but there is little other choice. She has the King’s ear along with his heart, but only so much can be accomplished directly from the throne.

The party of ladies moves quickly through the woods, and soon the city gates are visible. “Praise the Maker.” Carmela whispers, seeing the mass of guards moving towards them. “This woman was attacked, her carriage destroyed. I do not know how far the men who did this could have gotten, but if they remain, others will be at risk. Inform your Captain, patrols will need to be increased.” The words were spoken with authority that still felt strange to her. “My lady, I apologize for my bluntness earlier. I had only getting you to safety in mind.” Carmela added as they rode through the gates.

intoxicatiing:

Tabris … she knew that name intimately, though she’d never met the woman before. Knew well about the hero of Fereldan. A cold fear settled into her gut at the realization of how easy it would be for this woman to slaughter her. But then – wasn’t this good for her? Wasn’t this the second best person for her to have found in the woods? Save for the king, tied with the queen … and yet, even only lightly armed … it was impossible for Ruby not to imagine a steel-tipped arrow plunging through her neck, her heart, her gut. “I’m …” She let herself waver, laying a few delicate fingers against a welt on her head as she shook it. “I’m quite all right.”

She had endured far worse than a few bloody blows, after all. Her legs were completely untouched, save for a scrape on a knee and shin where she’d fallen, and her throat boasted no newly acquired bruises. All in all, a fine day, even if the world tilt some with every other step. “I wouldn’t take your horse, madame. I’m … only a courtier, after all.” Not a lie, just not all of the truth.

“And you won’t. Take my horse.” Carmela says, eyebrows raised. “You’ll ride behind me. Unless I’m misunderstanding you.” She knows it’s almost cruel, pushing against propriety, but she wants them to get out out there, and quickly. They don’t have time for bowing and scraping and choosing whose of a high enough rank to share whose horse. It’s silly, and they need to get back to the safety of Denerim’s walls before they’re caught out in the open with only a handful of hunting bows. Serves her right, trying to have a light excursion.

Without another word, she mounts her horse and holds out a hand to Ruby, clearly expecting her to take it. “There’s more than enough room, my lady. And you are not well enough to walk. Now, let’s be rid of this - I’ll send men of mine out to recover what can be recovered as soon as you are safe.”

intoxicatiing:

She flinched again at the hand on her shoulder, no matter how gentle. Any unexpected touch was unwelcome, that of a stranger even less so. And the waiting for the woman to return was just as terrible, what felt like nearly an eternity of waiting for something to happen, whether it was good or bad. But, as she said, the woman had retrieved her mask. Ruby shook her hair loose, hiding her eyes from any onlookers as she reached out, and placing it over her face where it belonged, tinted glass lenses shielding her eyes from the world around her.

Ruby, alas, was not skilled in combat of any sort. She looked at the mess around her, wondered if there was anything truly valuable that had been lost or not. Still … what was done was done. She nodded, and forced herself to stand despite the long gown and ruined, wild hair. “Where are we going? And … I would have your name…please…”

“Carmela. Carmela Tabris. I am Bann of the Alienage.” It’s the most comfortable of her titles, the one that fits best on her shoulders. Hero of Fereldan is so vast, and Mistress of the King is... untoward. Not fit for polite company. Except in the Winter Palace of course, where it is trumpeted like the rest of them, like it’s any accomplishment to fall in love with the wrong man. “We are to return to the city. I have sent word that a healer should be ready for us at the palace. Are you hurt terribly?”

She couldn’t tell to what extent the woman had been injured in the attack, and she didn’t want to take any chances. “If you need help standing, you need only ask. Are you well enough to make it to the city on the back of my horse? We are only a short ride away. You’re lucky they hit so close to the walls.” That felt like the wrong thing to say, rough as sand after a lifetime of hardship and battle.

#surprise right back!#guess who should be asleep but is Suffering instead god it's hot

intoxicatiing:

Ruby wasn’t yet familiar with the voices of Ferelden. She could tell by the accent this woman had been raised in Denerim, but little else besides. Still, she knew better than to risk looking up from behind her hands, pressed firmly to her face, even when she felt the woman kneel beside her, and felt the weight of the cloak on her shoulders – drawing a violent but permissible flinch, whether she wanted it to or not. But she managed to peek out at her feet, see the fine fabric of her savior’s skirts beside her. This woman was connected to wealth. She was on the right track.

Unaware that her headpiece had been knocked askew, pulling a few locks of hair with it, she shook her head. “No – no, my mask –” she rasped, pointing at where she’d last seen it. “I cannot be seen without my mask.” Just like the Orlesian elite, she couldn’t help but think wryly, well aware that personal appearances often came before personal health. Ruby’s ears and eyes, however, were tantamount to her safety. Keep them both hidden, and she would have nothing more to fear than any beautiful woman in a dangerous royal court.

Carmela nearly flinched at the woman’s words. Her mask? She did sound Orlesian, but for her to be so focused on getting her mask back seemed... odd. All the same, she wanted to get the woman out of that mess and on to her horse, and damn the steps she needed to take to get her there. “Very well, my lady. Wait here.” She rested a gentle hand on her shoulder and left her side to look for the mask. It was hard to spot anything among the wreckage, but eventually she came across it, cracked and thrown aside.

She scooped it up and hurried back to Ruby, pressing it into her hands. “Here, put it on quickly, and we’ll leave. Those who attacked you may still be close, and my ladies are not trained for combat.” Carmela was, but all she had with her was a hunting bow. That had served her well for the first days of the Blight, but she had grown used to finer weapons.

intoxicatiing:

@roseofdenerim

Her carriage had been attacked by mercenaries. Two of the chests meant to be laden with gold and jewels had been hauled off.Ruby’s fine clothes were strewn about, some stained in the grass, some torn, and Ruby herself at among the mess, hairpieces askew, mask cracked where it had been thrown, and no shortage of bruises and wounds, some old though most were brand new.

Her whimpering had never been allowed in Orlais, and she held it back even now, despite the bleeding, despite the trembling in her hands. She didn’t so much as call out until she heard the trumpets of a nobleman’s – the king’s? – hunting party. “He–,” she started, but her throat was raw from the scuffle and she coughed. “Hello?” Stronger this time. Hopefully loud enough to be heard by whoever was passing by.

Carmela raised a hand, motioning for her party to halt. She rarely indulged in these kinds of hunting expeditions, after all, she didn’t need any extra attention. This afternoon had been a conscious choice, to show distance between herself and Alistair while he held a meeting. Her choice, of course. “Did you hear that?” She turned to one of the ladies with her, when she heard the voice again.

She urged her horse forward, towards the direction of the sound, and into the horrible scene. “Margot! Go back, tell them we need a healer ready!” She dismounted in one smooth motion, hurrying towards the woman in the center of the wreckage, fine skirts billowing. “My lady, we will get you help.” She pulled the cloak from her shoulders and wrapped it around the woman, trying to comfort her as much as anything. It was in that motion that she saw the woman’s ears, and she hesitated a moment. “I... it’ll be alright, my lady. Come, come, we’ll get you somewhere safe.”