#seajudge

[consultingsister-aa]

STARTER CALL // @seajudge​

It was once said that Lady Cecelia Hawke’s parties brought together the best of the worst in society. Or perhaps, the worst of the best. The tales of orgies and pistols at dawn might be a little overexaggerated, but they at least once gathered outside to watch two drunken idiots waggle swords at each other in an attempt to save their maiden’s virtue (not that there was much left of that). Cecelia argued that it was the bringing together of the finest minds in the country; scholars and politicians, poets, scientific men and societies best ladies. She only supplied the drink, the gambling and the dinners as a backdrop for a sort of cross-media intellectualism. She was the spark that would light the fire of the new world. Or at least, that’s how she intended to be remembered. How was she to know that getting so many intellectuals in one room could lead to such debauchery? Still, it did make very good fun. 

It wasn’t all that hard to get invited to one of her soirées but it was a damn sight harder to get invited back. You had one chance to make a good impression and one chance only. If you sat in the corner all evening looked bored or worse, judgmental, you wouldn't be called back anytime soon. This was a land for freethinkers and the only man who could get away with such behaviour was her husband, who as man of the house, could do what he wanted.

Admittedly, Daniel had been invited back by request of Jacob. This was not to say that Cee hadn’t found the man interesting, but last time, she hadn’t found the man at all. She had been rather busy with a dear friend who was out for the blood of her cheating husband and Cee had been forced to spend the whole weekend keeping them apart. She’s all for some hot-blooded fun but murder was just a step too far. But any man, or woman but that was even rarer, who was invited on the specific request of her husband, was worth talking to in her book. And she’s not above ambushing him either. “I heard a rumour that your gardens are ever nicer than mine,” she begins without so much as a hello, let alone as a formal introduction. Lady Cee takes his arm in hers and leads him down the corridor. “How can that be? I spend a small fortune on it, honestly. You’ll lend me your gardener, Daniel?” 

[ysenias-a]

@seajudge​ liked for a 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫 !!

            YSENIA ALWAYS MAKES it a point to speak to each visitor Skyhold welcomes, noble or of common birth, at least once before carrying on to whatever duty calls then. It appeals to the masses and satiates the more fortunate, while also giving the woman a better idea of who she has vouching for her cause. Josephine had been awfully kind about the nobles that she invited onto their territory, which was a saving grace for both Ysenia and whatever higher-born miscreant who dared assert themselves over her. 

She was never good with nobles. She’s gotten better and has found herself kinder in their company, but she still struggled so. Today her ambassador is silently unsure and has been brief with details. When he arrives, she announces him with a beaming smile nevertheless, hesitating before leaving the Inquisitor to deal with their new guest alone. Ysenia tries to mimic such a kind gesture, though it is tight-lipped and reserved.

“Hello.” She says softly, shoulders rolling back. Her chin lifts, “It appears I am unfamiliar with your House’s name. Forgive me. Many Ferelden nobles do.”

[yivohn]

@seajudge ♡'d for a one-liner!

❛ SOOO... looking forward to our next visit to volkihar castle? ❜

[carvedbones]

  𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊𝐒 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐓 as colleagues hadn’t gone to waste,  great progress towards a mutual goal leaving him satisfied with the relationship they nurtured  --- careful in planning, slow to change. the outsider rarely showed any gratitude, but as of now his interest laid beyond the superficial. there was, however, only one was of crossing that barrier and shattering the invisible wall between them. knowing what sort of man daniel was, the deity didn’t need to search long in order to find something to appeal to him.

   ❝  daniel, i have something for you,  ❞  having the entered the room without a single sound,  the outsider merely stood in the door frame, as if asking permission to enter further.  a smile graced his features, pale and worn. a rare kindness.

@seajudge​ + bc i felt like it.

[likescything]

for @seajudge​ / meme

“Nurture your grudge as you please.” 

This young man perhaps hopes to be Ealdorman, but his youth prevents her from assuming he is such yet. The court of Wihtwara is home to Ealdormen of advancing age, at their prime in her father’s reign. Now, they submit to the patronising folly of Christianity, cosseting their daughters as pawns only so long as they remain virginal and stupid. Elfriede knows she is lucky to have avoided such a fate, her mother instilling in her the faith of the people who lived in these lands before even the Romans came and began to spread the stain of their nailed god. 

She regards him with cool, dark eyes, the corners of her mouth upturned. Amusement plays across her features, but whatever she truly thinks is well hidden. She has had nearly twenty years to perfect the art of survival in this viper’s den. 

“As well fed as it grows, be sure it doesn’t grow so fat as to be unwieldy. There is nothing so shaming as an enemy one cannot take up against because we have bound ourselves so blindly with hate. That is when your enemy shall strike, and you will be powerless, humiliated, you will wish for death to take you quickly.” She pauses, looking him over with mild interest. “At least, so I have heard soldiers say.” After all, she is only a princess, growing old and still unmarried. What could she possibly know of rage and politics?

[povvertaken]

for @seajudge​ / meme

Jacob laughs and blood bubbles up to his mouth. He turns awkwardly away from Daniel, spitting it out to the floor where it mixes with mud and straw. He sees small insects beginning to move around, investigate the crimson stain spreading across their world. For a moment, perspective tilts, and Jacob is forced to lie back heavily on the cot. Even in the infirmary, Daniel could not be mistaken for any common soldier. His hair and skin are clean and soft, and his clothes are of the finest quality. The low light around them make a halo around Daniel’s head, and the thought amuses Jacob. Angelic, his prince is not. 

“The ribs are wounded. They will be a pig to heal, but it’s nothing so serious as all that.” When Jacob smiles, his teeth are stained a dreadful red. Wounded and winded, he is still the great Prince-Captain. “Although I appreciate the sentiment, Dan,” he wheezes out, reaching for Daniel’s hand. Fuck Floran customs, he thinks. He is an injured man, and he will hold his lover’s hand, if only for a moment. 

He was foolish to go out in the field so soon after the rescue mission. His ribs had been bruised then, but he’s impatient to be out with the men. Without a sword in his hand, he feels useless and incapable. It was a simple sparring match but his ankle twisted in the mud, and he landed awkwardly on his side. The physicians had already seen to him and given him a draught for the pain. They would allow him to return to his own tent soon enough, and he had hoped Daniel would not hear of it too soon. But like a bat, Daniel seemed to always hear when Jacob was at his worst. His threats at Jacob’s bedside are an amusement, compared to the lecture Jacob had prepared himself for. 

[povvertaken]

for @seajudge​ / meme

Jacob hates London. Everyone is perversely preoccupied with themselves and other people. Hours dedicated to discussing one another and the gossip of the hour. Petty minds laughing at others for a dress one season out of fashion. He wonders darkly how these featherheads might react if they knew Lord Hawke has all but drowned in the spilled blood, cut down men from Portsmouth to the New World with no hesitance. He fantasises about their outrage, but he cannot bring down Cee’s reputation with his own. A woman in society, her reputation is the most important thing she has.

The townhouse here is Cecelia’s, inherited from her mother. Jacob cannot go there now. Blood falls from a wound near his hairline, his shoulder shrieking with pain. A simple tavern brawl - the other man had come out the worst for it. Jacob hasn’t lost that which made him such a devilish pirate on the open seas. He can bring a man to his knees with ease. A few scrapes are very little concern. But he cannot bring his bloodied bodied back to Cecelia to worry at. He imagines blood stains on her fine furniture and frowns. 

Instead, he drags himself to Daniel’s London apartment. He has not visited before, but he knows the address and it is a short walk from the tavern. Even with the limp Jacob finds himself with. It takes some time for the door to open, even as he hits it with his fists, force enough to splinter. Barrelling through the staff, he collapses in the closest chair. “Fetch Lord Trewhella,” he growls out, voice laced with tiredness and pain.

[povvertaken]

for @seajudge​ / meme / continuation from here

The sheets have been changed at least three times, soaking up the sweat that pours from Jacob’s skin. Cecelia hasn’t seen him, even since he regained consciousness. Instead she has sent Daniel to his side. Guilt and shame make him irritable. Does Cecelia hate him? He remembers crying out for Daniel and drags a hand down his face. No woman could stand being second in affections, Cee least of all. She told him she dreaded the moment Daniel came between them, and the moment is here. In his agony and delirium, Jacob thought of his lover, and not his wife. He growls and falls heavily against the pillows. 

Daniel sleeps curled up in a day bed repurposed in Jacob’s room. He would prefer to feel the comforting weight beside him, but the physicians had been clear. He needed to rest, sleep in his own bed. Cee had asked - if she could not sleep beside him, neither would Daniel. And he supposed, it put some sort of propriety on a situation that was erring ever closer to scandal. In the low light of dawn, Jacob watches Daniel sleep. His face relaxed, eyelashes brushing his cheeks, no one could deny he’s beautiful. But Cee is the most beautiful woman in England, Jacob knows it and has been told so. He feels torturous, traitorous, unable to choose and condemning them all. 

He shuts his eyes.

Hours later, he wakes to Daniel’s touch. How delicately Daniel mopos his brow, combs his hair! Guilt crawls up Jacob’s spine once more, but he is tired, and Daniel’s gentle care soothes him.  

“I wish it was not such scandal, that I might love you and Cee both. I am torn between you. I cannot please one without upsetting the other,” he mumbles sorrowfully, leaning in to Daniel.