#littlelakequeue

[aelsell]

@nosestealer​ con. [x]

A knock on the door, Tilda greeting her friend with a bouquet of flowers. "I saw these while passing by the flower shop and the colour made me think of you, so", she shruggs her shoulders, "I thought to myself, why not?"

“aww, tilda!” lou ellen smiles a warm smile. “thank you, they’re beautiful!” really, she shouldn’t have. tilda’s friendship is already a gift in itself. but she’ll never say no to a bouquet of pretty flowers, either. “c’mon in. i’ll put these in water and then i’ll get you something to drink. tea, coffee or hot cocoa?”

Seeing her friends reaction made Tilda’s own smile even brighter. The surprise had been intended to bring some light and laughter and it was nice to see that succeed. Especially after the few days she just had. “You are welcome”, she followed Lou Ellen into the house, “I don’t want to overstay, but I think I have enough time for a cup of tea. How are you doing today?” She shrugged out of her coat and shoes. 

[aelsell]

@multimentium​ plotted starter for Aithusa

Dragging her feet over the stones, Tilda sighed heavily. She was exhausted and it felt as if she had spent hours upon hours in this wasteland. The lake was nothing but a shimmering silhouette in the distance, but the sun was still high in the sky. A terrible idea, this entire adventure was a terrible idea! Da and Sigrid would be so angry if they ever found out!  She crossed her small arms in front of her chest, finally looking up. The ruins loomed before her, but no matter how much she hurried Dale, or what had once been that city, did not come closer. For a second she considered calling out to her brother, after all, Bain was somewhere out here, in the middle of that dare he had going on with Gerold and Micah, but Tilda remembered the stories and she did not dare. What if one of the ghosts heard her instead?  Somewhere to her right, a movement caught her eye, something shuffling over the stones. Tilda froze in her steps, scared and confused. Maybe it was just a raven. Maybe it was just an animal. Maybe it was a ghost come to get her.  The young girl took a deep breath, collecting all the bravery she found within her heart before slowly turning. But there were only stones. And shadows. “Hello?”, she called out, voice meek and whispering, “Is somewhere there?”

[aelsell]

Headcanon - the lost years

After Tilda spent a few decades in the dark forests of what would later become today’s Germany she traveled on to Austria, hearing of another immortal soul. Curious as to why someone else had been granted the same favour, the same curse, that once fell upon her and her siblings she searched for this other person. The trail brought her to the small village Skagen, the northernmost part of Denmark in the late 19th. century. But the person she was searching for had already left the scene. Tilda encountered many artists in Skagen, discovering her own love for creating - poems not paintings - and for the first time she heard of those that belong to covens of the Luna.  From Skagen her search led her to London where, in 1889, she met a young man called Riley Ashford. Upon first glance Tilda realised that Riley had a strong and powerful soul, magic cursing through his veins. She was growing weaker, she needed a sacrifice, a soul she could carry to Death for a few more decades on this earth. She needed to become a Reaper once more. And Riley Ashford, confused by his own magic, crippled by self-doubt and depression, was the perfect soul for that. He was young, he was strong, he was close to the edge. She only needed to take his soul, deliver it to the underworld, feed upon his magic and the gifts granted by Death. Their love was passionate, dangerous. It burned like a flame, but too fast, too strong. In a short amount of time it had devoured everything, dwindling, dying. And once again the light disappeared leaving her with a starless sky.  Alduin was the lightning to her storm, over and over again. A powerful force that rushed into Tilda’s life and never really let go of her. She sees part of that in Riley, but he is a single lightning stroke, where Alduin was thunderous destruction, nothing compared to the great power and great love she felt such a long time ago. It is not history repeating itself but a mere whisper, a shadow of what has once been. And yet it leaves both of them breathless.  In the end she did not reap Riley’s soul. In the end he recovered from these lost years of shadows and went on to become a powerful (and feared by his enemires) member of the Luna coven. And Tilda found a different witch to sacrifice. Her initial goal of finding the other immortal has not been fullfilled but the years in England have given her a safe space, a sanctum, she can return to whenever the eternal knights are too close on her heel.  AU(s):  And our soft whisper lives on... - Riley’s and Tilda’s passionate love affair has produced another child, Edith Morris, Baroness of Ashford / Nephele Stormbringer. In this version of the verse Tilda reaches London several decades earlier.

I am the Storm - Witch Verse Masterlist

[aelsell]

TURN YOUR MUSE INTO A DRAGON !!!

tagged by: @multimentium​ ( ty! ♥ ) tagging: @meinliied​ ; @viaminvenia​ ; @aeliell​ ; @aelernil​ ; @starryburglar​

[aelsell]

A king should not stand apart from the people. A ruler should know sacrifice, for how else is he to know those who harvest our grains and wheat, who tend to the cattle, and who raise our children? A ruler should know pain and sorrow, for war is bloody and cruel, and for a ruler to ask the people to fight, is to ask them to die for the kingdom. A ruler should know justice, but also reason, for not all crimes are committed with ill intent or malice, but rather with grieving and shame. I am no ruler of this land. I am the peasant in the fields. I am the painter at his easel. I am the young soldier donned in rusted armor. You will not find me sitting upon a gemmed throne answering the questions of those in need with disdain, but working beside your mothers and fathers, fighting beside your soldiers, and aiding those wounded in the name of this kingdom.

Sovereign Zan Tal’Dorei

[aelsell]

@daniellecountessofderby con. [x]

Danielle looked over at her friend. “I understand. I will be by your side to fight this all the way.” A squeeze of Tilda’s hand was given.

She smiled weakly, unsure if it was truly a good idea to drag her friend into this. Danielle had been nothing but kind to her and Tilda now felt almost as if she was betraying not just her family, but also her friend. “You can tell no one though, do you understand? I thank you for your help, but no one can know about this, about my plan” Running away seemed like a terrible idea, especially now that whispers of a shadow in the East were growing louder. But did the princess of Dale really have any other choice?

[aelsell]

@xqueenofscots con. [x]

“ then i           might ask why you are out at this time too? ” trying to avoid an accusing tone, mary was truly concerned — both for tilda and for herself. she would like to avoid trouble at all costs, but was curious as to what made it a less than desirable place to be walking around. “ have you got somewhere to go? i would not like to think of you out here alone too. ”

Her tongue froze as Tilda searched for the right reply. She did not wish to disobey her queen or worse - lie to her - but sharing the truth? For a heartbeat, she regretted calling out to Mary at all. “I am on an errand, your grace, for...” She did not continue, every possible end to that sentence meant only trouble. “I am sorry, your majesty, but I simply cannot say”

[aelsell]

@elenhest plotted starter ♥

A green shimmer came from a few stones ahead of her, luminescent mushrooms that glowed strangely in the dark, but there was nothing else to see. A dripping sound from somewhere to her right reminded her of water, but there was nothing else to hear. No one came to her, no one heard her screams. But left in almost-silence, almost-darkness, was not what made her mind reel with desperation and fear. This dark was still more comforting than the fiery dragon-storms still haunting her dreams. No, she could feel her thoughts slip away, her mind became more clouded with every heartbeat as humanity became a concept harder to grasp. For there was nothing she could feel, except for that fear and... the cold.  It had evaporated from the stones around her had seeped through dampened clothes and broken skin right into her bones. How long had she been in this place? Where had she been before? Who had she been before there was nothing left but cold, green shimmer, and a terrible dripping sound that made her unsure if the noise truly came from her right or was just echoing around in her very skull? Awakening from a feverish dream, Tilda fought to regain a sense of all that. She fought to remember her home, her family, the stones of Dale that had been warmed from the sun, echoing the laughters of peace and prosperity - so different than those she was surrounded by now. She would have never thought that even the very stones they had used to rebuild her beloved city were something she could come to miss so dearly.  If she closed her eyes shut, both hands above her ears, she could almost make herself forget where she was now. Imagining the cobbled paths underneath her feet she could hear steps coming closer on them, remembering the warm fire of a cold winter night she could see the glow of dancing flames through her closed eyelids, remembering -  A sound startled her and Tilda’s eyes flew open. There was indeed fire - a torch - before her, indeed someone whos steps had echoed off the stones. But what she felt was not the warmth of a comforting fire in winter, but the old dread Smaug’s visage had woken in her. “Who are you?”, she croaked, startled by her own voice. She did not remember how she had ended up in this place, had not seen her captor before, and now her eyes hurt from the blinding light of the torch. “What do you want from me? Where am I?”, desperation was clearly painted on her face, entangled with her voice. But Tilda had lost her strength to fight.