#wulfcniht

[ofxavalon]

            lancelot. merlin had scoffed at the name, but viviane had gone stone still. surely there was more than one. a knight, quickly favored by merlin’s king. and her lancelot had always been touched by fate, a great destiny looming over his shoulder. and yet, after all this time looking for him, could it be that simple? and so she would look. she didn’t transport herself directly to camelot, but to the outskirts. her feet were bare, the hem of her dress wet as she walked along the side of the road, only pausing as a man that appeared to be a knight rode beside her. ‘ sir, this is the road to camelot, is it not? ‘

@wulfcniht​

[reginavere-arch]

this was not something we talked about beforehand which makes it even better but: arthur having scenthounds, guinevere having sighthounds, and lance being associated with wolves/being called the king’s dog??? galaxy brain

[ofxavalon-archive]

           ‘ would you do it? ‘ the question was soft, unsure. and not just unsure because it was a question, but unsure because he wasn’t sure he should be asking lancelot about it at all. when all was said and done, his father hadn’t chosen to be a father. why should galahad give him the chance now? but he explained it away, told himself he was asking lancelot as a fellow knight, not as his father. ‘ would you search for the grail even knowing-- ‘ knowing that it was unlikely he would return. 

@wulfcniht​

[reginavere-arch]

@wulfcniht​ sent: ◕‿◕ 

          his hands are rough - - - the curls of her hair snag upon his fingers, and yet the way he touches her is delicate, as though he is still afraid that one too-rough tug of his fingers could pull her apart. all she does is move in closer, her face tucked into the crook of his neck, breathing him in with each new breath. sleep hangs over them, and it is only by sheer force of will that she has kept it from settling down upon her. that she has remained awake so long, fingers tracing his skin, settling here and there against the lines and ridges of scars. she does not say that arthur often does the same thing, does not speak of the hundreds of times his own fingers have moved through her hair. lancelot knows that much, she’s sure. does not speak of the subtle differences between them, though she catalogues them all away herself, to muse over later. “whatever you do,” she murmurs, turning her head to press a kiss to his collarbone, “do not stop.”

Send ◕‿◕ to play with my muse’s hair : ACCEPTING

[reginavere-arch]

@wulfcniht​ said: ❛ You are out of your fucking mind. ❜ 

         it strikes her suddenly that lance has never seen her doing this. art has, enough that he likely wouldn’t even comment on it, if he were to come across her in the midst of it. but lance had come in to find her smacking a shoe with all of her strength against the hard floor, and she’d nearly lost herself to a fit of giggles at the look on his face. “yes, well,” she says, bending the shoe between her hands. “it’s kind of a pre-qualification for ballerinas, so no surprises there.” she sets the shoe aside, looking up at him from where she sits, stretching one leg out and bending the other to rest her foot flat against the inside of her thigh. “better the shoe than my feet, though.” 

THE QUEEN’S GAMBIT : ACCEPTING

[reginavere-arch]

@wulfcniht​ said:  ❝ never felt too good in crowds. ❞

         they do not often speak, her and this man she has heard called her husband’s dog. she has come to believe he does not much like her, or else does not like her presence, though either choice seems strange to her. of all of them, she has done little enough to disturb him. still, she is not one to shy away, not from any challenge, and certainly not from one of her husband’s knights. she is a queen, and so she shall be. let it be at their peril to forget it. 

          so she does not startle at the sudden words, however gruffly they are spoken. she barely seems to react at all, although she does acknowledge them: the smallest of smiles, a tilt of her head. “it is a secret of most people, sir lancelot, that few people ever do. and yet so many gather.” though she speaks to him her eyes are mostly on the crowd, surveying it, holding herself apart and yet quietly threading herself to it. to the way it moves and breathes, the brush of eyes as gazes find her, hold, then slip away. but she turns her gaze to him at last - - both considering and questioning. “i have found most crowds are like a pack of dogs,” she says. “it looks to leaders, whether it knows it or not, though there is much barking and snapping to get there. from there, it is it not difficult to predict what it shall do. and this one knows its leader well.” her head inclines, eyes shifting toward arthur. “if there is any crowd to feel some semblance of ease in, i think it would be this one.” 

HOZIER LYRICS MEME: ACCEPTING

[reginavere-arch]

@wulfcniht​ said:  “ if i fall in love with you, i won’t burst into flames, but… my life will be fucked. “

          she laughs - - she can’t help it. jenny (the wake of the breakup with art being a stellar exception) was not often given to anything overwrought. and she does not fall to dramatics now. just shakes her head and pours herself a glass of wine, and returns to her spot next to him on her couch. she curls up, facing him, bare feet tucked up under her. 

          in this light, she looks almost soft. or maybe that’s just the affection in her eyes, mixed with something like wariness, something like someone falling right into the arms of the inevitable. because she knows who he is, who he was, even if he doesn’t, and she knows what they once were, and she knows....she knows exactly what he means. maybe even better than he thinks she will. 

           she takes a sip of wine, sets it down on the coffee table in front of them, and then reaches for his hand. she can’t explain exactly what they are right now, maybe. what they’re doing, what they are to each other, but she knows there’s already something deep-rooted weaving her to him somehow, some way she can’t explain and doesn’t want to examine. instead, she turns his hand over in hers to trace her fingers across his palm. “thanks for the vote of confidence, lance,” she says, glancing up at him with laughter in her eyes. it does not die but it does fade, smooths and softens, transmuted to something else. “so...i guess you just have to decide, then. if it’s worth the risk.” there’s nothing shy about the look in her eye, nothing wary, more notes of challenge than anything else. 

MISC. MOVIE QUOTES : ACCEPTING

[reginavere-arch]

@wulfcniht​ said:  ‘ i am someone who did not die when i should have died. ’

             she does not like those words - - - that much is evidenced by the flash of her eyes, the downward-tilt of her brows. “if you were meant to be dead, you would be bones beneath the ground,” she sniffs. if he were meant to be dead, he would be there already - - - all those times death could have taken him, sunk bony fingers into his heart and pulled, and yet he hadn’t. and yet he was here, he was hers, her lancelot and very much alive. quick as lightning strikes she turns, a whirl of skirts and red hair, her hand moving up to hold the back of his neck, pulling him down to her in one quick tug. her lips meet the skin of his neck, right above the place where the pulse moved beneath its thin cover of skin. teeth graze, light but sharp, soothed by another gentle press of her lips before she moves to his lips, a kiss so quick and bright and burning it can only mean life and heat, the warmth of rising suns. “you did not die when you might have died because you always should have been here,” she purrs, “don’t you see? you were someone who lived when he might have died, and that is a fiercer and a braver thing by far.” 

ANNE CARSON STARTERS : ACCEPTING