Dec 2, 2023
@ofnightingales asked: 🎁 ( from here. ) mama told me ( not to come ) , three dog night .
" MAMA TOLD ME not to come . she said , ' that ain't no way to have fun , son . '
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@ofnightingales asked: 🎁 ( from here. ) mama told me ( not to come ) , three dog night .
" MAMA TOLD ME not to come . she said , ' that ain't no way to have fun , son . '
✘ : What one thing they would change about your muse.
In response to this meme
“I wish I could erase some of the scars on Leli’s heart. She is a changed woman now, not that I don’t still love her. I know she would rest better at night with fewer painful memories.”
❝Maybe one day everything won’t hurt.❞
He remembered the villa as if were the very first day they stepped inside, so full of promise and hope that they could lay down their duty forever and spend the rest of their days in peace. That had been the foolish desires of young lovers, drunk on the selfish notion of paying their dues. The world didn’t believe in dues. It took and it took until it was satisfied.
All of that seemed like a lifetime ago, but the villa hadn’t changed. He had to smile at that. Ronan strode through the main foyer, knowing she’d arrived ahead of him. He found her in the garden surrounded by Andraste’s Grace, blooming with the same brilliant white as her dress.
She might of been Divine Victoria to the world but to him she would always be Leliana, his pretty bird, his wife to whom he could now leave everything else behind for. The warden stepped into the garden, shafts of light causing his armour to glisten.
“You might be Divine now,” he said. “But a man should still expect to greet his wife from the comfort of their own bed.” Ronan smiled, wrapping her up in his arms and kissing her with all the love at his disposal. It didn’t hurt anymore. Nothing would ever hurt them again.
💭
Ask Meme! Send 💭 and my muse will blurt out what they are thinking about yours!
“How is it that I feel more at home with you here, than I ever did in Antiva?”
What A Piece Of Work Is Man.
It’s said that every soldier must know before he goes into battle how the little battle he’s fighting fits into the larger picture, and how the success of his fighting would influence the battle as a whole. There’d been many battles lately, skirmishes fought and won to protect Ferelden from The Blight. And at last, the final push had arrived.
Yet the little battles Ronan faced were of a different nature to fighting a demonic dragon in the open. The solemnness of Riordan’s words still echoed as he strode through the hall of the keep. A warden must take the taint into himself. His voice was joined by Morrigan’s, soft and seductive in his ear. I know a way out. For all the Grey Wardens.
He’d come so far, sacrificed and killed his way across the countryside to unite all the races of the nation to fight under one banner. Ronan didn’t want to die a heroic death because there was nothing valiant about it. There was too much left to live for.
But Morrigan’s idea…it filled him with guilt and uncertainty. He couldn’t have that, not when so much weighed on his shoulders already. He needed his centre, to be grounded by the one person he trusted most in the world. And then he’d decide how to break her heart.
Ronan found her in the library, a bard’s haven for words and songs of ages past. The warden watched her for a moment and cleared his throat. “I thought I’d find you here.”
Back from the Fade || Closed ||
@ofnightingales
Coming back from the Fade, Eli realized that if he had been left behind he would have hurt Leliana. He was actually glad that the inquisitor didn’t leave him behind although he was sad to see his friend Stroud left.
Blinking slowly the trek back from Adament had been slow, but he knew that before he goes to Weishop he needed to see Leliana. Of course sneaking up on the Spymaster wasn’t possible, “Hello songbird...” He spoke by way once he was up in her presence.
@ofnightingales
It was terribly rude to drag a dinner engagement on for long after the table had been cleared. Lord Ridingot would surely be chastised by his husband upon return to their quarters. She was unsure how late is was, only that it was late enough to desire nothing more than to be in bed, wrapped in an embrace that had distracted her all day.
Returning to her chambers, she was met with disappointment to see no one waiting to meet her.
Disappointed but not surprised.
Wrapping her cloak around her shoulders, she set off on the all too familiar journey. She made her way up spiraling stairs, heart pounding at the thought of what waited at the top.
She shut the door gently behind her, not wanting to wake all of the sensible souls who had already retired for the evening. As she had expected, Leliana was hunched over a letter, reading and re-reading as if to find any vulnerability in the short message. She removed her cloak and lay it softly on the table conveniently putting an end to the other’s work.
“Do you have any idea how late it is?”
She whispered with a harshness that quickly lost its meaning when paired with a slow, lingering kiss on the spymaster’s cheek.
Shadow Games.
A fire crackled in the centre of the camp site. Red embers hissed and spat while the flames sent shadows veering off into the trees. Ronan sat beside it whetting his blade. Shing. Shing. The stone sparked against the edge, sharpening the sword with each movement. He found the task therapeutic — it anchored his mind and stopped him thinking about the past, about a life he could never get back.
After several strikes he gripped the sword hilt and held it up to the light. He inspected both sides and found it satisfactory. The young Warden shoved the blade into the scabbard at his hip and rose. Some of the companions had turned in already. He saw Wynne fluffing up her bed and as he passed Oghren’s tent he saw the dwarf’s feet sticking out while the thunderous roar of drunken snoring filled the night. Ronan allowed himself the flicker of a smile.
Watching the perimeter had become a ritual. He was mistrustful of the shadows and made a point of guarding the camp site before he went to sleep. The others had come to rely on him as the leader. He still wasn’t sure he wanted the responsibility, but right now he had an example to live up to.
Before he held vigil there was something important he needed to do. Ronan strode across to Leliana’s tent and called to her.
“Staying up late to compose another ballad?”
He smiled, even though he knew the real reason why sleep would not come to her. Yet a burden shared was a burden halved and he wouldn’t have her be consumed by the events of the day.