edmure tully

lord edmure tully: first born son of hoster and minisa tully. lord of riverrun. est nov 2016 written by megan sideblog to handofhonor tracking #tullyfreckled

[tullyfreckled]

longmayshereign-cersei:

 “You would have to ask him.” Jaime did not think, with any luck he might push the little brat into the river for her as well as his bride. Alas, she did not think that she would be so lucky.

They sat there for a while longer, calling out fish when they saw them. Eventually, her patience for all of this wore to the last as the sky above them was turning the colour of a ripe peach.

She gathered her skirts into her hands and stood from the padded bench. “If my Lord will pardon me, I should ready myself for the feast.” Perhaps she would send down word she was not feeling well, the less Tullys she saw the better.

Edmure was pleased with the game they were playing, as he proved himself to be better then Lady Cersei. Somehow, he managed to win the game, pulling ahead early on. Edmure believed it had everything to do with the fact that he played this frequently with his sister, so he was naturally better at the game. 

When Cersei declared that she was to go get ready for the feast, Edmure finally pulled his eyes away from the river. “I forgot about the feast.” He admitted, nodding. “I’ll see you at the feast, then, Lady Cersei.” Edmure gave a single nod, sliding off the seat with practiced ease.

[tullyfreckled]

takenwings‌:

“Picked him up from the streets?” Mona’s hazel eyes widened with confusion before her brow furrowed with concern. Taking a child from streets in order to use them to help commit a fraud was exploitation, and if she had taken someone else’s child full stop, it was kidnap….but Kevin didn’t strike her as a boy kidnapped from a loving home. He didn’t strike her as someone who even knew what a loving home was…which would make sense if Serah was the neglectful parent Mona believed her to be, but also would make sense if Edmure’s theory was true. It’s possible he already came from a bad home life and had been promised a better one without knowing the details…

If they wanted to find out if Serah was really his Mother, they weren’t going to find that out by Edmure’s DNA test; that would only confirm whether he was the Father. Mona thought perhaps she could use connections at her work, old clients, a few angelic-aided shortcuts to get a DNA test ordered from Serah…..but there was a much simpler way. Ask her to do a test on herself; if she was his Mother, then there would be no reason to refuse if she wanted Edmure’s help like she claimed, but if she wasn’t….her refusal would be confirmation enough.

Lost in her plans and thoughts, Mona almost didn’t hear Edmure’s suggestion. “You want to bring Kevin here? Permanently?” He had said ‘another kid’, “You want to adopt him?”

"No, no, I don't think she picked him up from the streets." Edmure clarified. There was something about Kevin that didn't exactly mend well with Serah. He had seen the way that Catelyn's children look at her and Ned and that same thing wasn't there. Even with Nathan, there was something that Kevin was lacking. There was a lack of affection, a lack of something else entirely. Edmure wanted to get down to the bottom of it. Whatever was going on, it was really bothering him.

"Adopt, foster, whatever, I don't know. I just don't want to see him going back to the life he was in. If Serah hasn't changed, or if he's from a bad home, we can give him a much better life, Mona." Edmure had begun to grow attached to Kevin just based off the few times they'd met. There was something about him, something that reminded Edmure of himself. He wanted to make sure that Kevin was taken care of and he didn't think anyone else was going to do that.

Edmure thought that maybe he had crossed a line, that it was a silly suggestion. He shook his head, waving his hand. "If you don't want to, I completely understand. It was a rather large assumption on my part that you would want to. I mean, this entire thing can't be easy for you, even if he's not my kid." But Serah coming back into their lives, that wasn't fair for Mona. None of this was fair for Mona but here they were, dealing with his bad decisions even years later.

[tullyfreckled]

matriarcarivera‌:

“Sí, zapatos,” Imelda repeated, gesturing to the workshop and to the shoes that lined the walls, ready to be picked up by those who had made the order, as well as to the sign that was a miniature of the one that hung outside, declaring this to be the residence of the ‘Rivera, Familia de Zapateros, desde 1921′. “It would be better for you,” Imelda added in advice, “Tu zapatos are…nice but in this heat you will have blisters before the sun sets tonight. Rivera shoes never cause blisters” She promised with utmost certainty.  

“We could make you ones that fold up,” Óscar offered

“Or have wheels”

“Or change colours with the temperature”

“Ay dios, you are shoemakers, not inventors” Imelda told them, just as she had told them a dozen times before. But just like every single time before, it was likely Coco would have sympathy on them and keep the shoes in her cupboard even if she never wore them. I don’t want to see them thrown away, Mamá, she had told her once, many years ago now, and Imelda had sighed and let her daughter keep her Tíos useless and senseless inventions. 

“Tu esposa is shopping?” Imelda raised her eyebrows, surprised that the woman would wander off alone while in a new place, a turista, “So, she is shopping and left you with your perro….este Maverick, and you lose him in a zapataría in a pequeño pueblo where you do not speak español very well, sí?” She gave the man a dry look, “Quizás tu esposa should keep you y Maverick together” 

She then held out her hand for him to shake, “Imelda Rivera”

"1921?" Edmure was quite impressed that the shoe business had been around that long. He would have thought something like this wouldn't have lasted entirely long. Then again, everyone needed shoes. They were used for every occasion, every event. Everyone in the world needed shoes and if they were a tourist city, it would appear that shoes would be something that would sell. From what he could see of said shoes, they looked reliable. But what did he knew about the shoes business? Nothing.

He could design a building for someone, but not shoes. As the brothers were talking about shoes, Edmure raised a brow, looking between them before their sister seemingly ended their little show about different shoes they could invent.

"Well...." Edmure paused as she basically described everything that had happened in a matter of a few sentences. "Yes, I suppose you're right about all of that." Mona was shopping, Edmure had grown bored and went outside with Maverick. The two had gotten in trouble since one of them with four legs had decided to chase after a cat. Who knew the dog would do such a thing. He never did back home.

"Pleasure to meet you, Imelda." He firmly shook her hand. "Edmure Tully."

[tullyfreckled]

matriarcarivera:

“No es un florero,” Imelda said with a frown, “Un vaso es a glass”

In support of her definition, Felipe held up the broken glass in his hand. 

“That’s why the drink spilled,” He explained.

“Mi bebida,” His twin added

“No, mine,

“No, yours is there”  Óscar pointed out the glass that was unbroken and still filled with water. 

“Oh,” Felipe looked incredibly pleased that his bebida was still whole, unspilled and drinkable. 

“Pero, sí, tu dinero would be very appreciated, señor” Imelda cut in on her twins’ dialogue, nodding her thanks at the stranger for his offer of repaying for the glass. “Pero, quizás tu dinero could not be for un vaso, pero, some zapatos?” 

She felt her brothers raise their eyebrows at her suggestion that the man repay the minor damage and chaos by purchasing a pair of Rivera shoes, but Imelda was surprised they did not think of the suggestions themselves. In a business it was always muy importante to see opportunity where you could, and it was no lie to say that the man’s shoes would not do him very well here. The climate, the terrain…if he wanted shoes that would last while he was being a tourist, he would do better with a pair of Rivera shoes. 

“And where is your esposa now, señor?”

Edmure watched the exchange between brothers with a single brow raised. He understood half of what was being said, mainly because of the gesturing and holding the broken pieces of glass up and then pointing to the filled glass. Clearly one brother thought his glass was broken, when in reality, it was the other twin. How Edmure understood all of that, he wasn't sure. He would just chalk it up as a good guess. Somehow he needed to make sure that he escaped in one piece but also that the glass was taken care of. His sister raised him to pay for his actions, even if it meant literally paying.

Now both brows raised as Edmure tried to piece together what she was saying. Where was Mona when he needed her? His wife was the one who spoke fluent Spanish, not himself. He could speak Italian and bits of French, which now that he thought about it, was close to Spanish. "Zapatos...." He paused, trying to remember the word. "Shoes?" He guessed, hoping that his assumption was correct and he wasn't making an arse out of himself.

"You want me to pay you back with shoes?" Edmure winced, realizing how off that sounded from the way that the lady was talking. Good Lord, this wasn't going to work out in the slightest. He did piece together what was just asked and he could give her that answer with ease.

"My wife is in the town center, she was shopping when I got bored." Edmure shrugged. "And then Maverick decided to run off." He frowned at his dog who looked longingly between all the people. "But my wife is shopping.” He looked at her suspiciously. “Why?"

[tullyfreckled]

longmayshereign-cersei:

Cersei could have pointed out that she probably knew Lysa Tully as well as little Lord Edmure knew her brother but then, it wouldn’t be fair. Because she had already decided on her opinion on Lysa.

Of course, she imagined telling the boy that she would like nothing more to throttle his sister and threw her into the river would probably not be a very good idea at all.

So, she settled on a simple smile before she spoke. “I don’t truly knew her either, but she seems very sweet. And she smiles quite a bit, and laughs a lot as well. Every time my brother seems to say something, in point of fact.”

The girl was insipid and cow eyed, everytime Jaime said something it seemed to send her off into a fit. Maybe Jaime would be the one to strangle her instead,

“Lysa does laugh a lot when there are other boys around.” Edmure had realized that early on, especially when Petyr had been there. He’d even asked Catelyn once why she did and Catelyn gave some reason that didn’t sound exactly right even to him. Lysa was doing it for the boys, he’d figured that out on his own after the half answer from his sister. He wondered how well Lysa and Jaime would get along, and how well all of the Tullys and Lannisters would get along, too. From what Edmure had seen and could sense, there was tensions every where.

Edmure was just happy there wasn’t another Lannister for him to marry, that he would marry into another family. He didn’t know if he’d like the idea of marrying Cersei. She was... interesting. Mean, she was mean. Edmure decided right then and there that Cersei was mean and needed someone who didn’t like her. Was that wrong for him to say?

“Does your brother like my sister?”

[tullyfreckled]

matriarcarivera:

“He just broke una vasa,” Felipe volunteered.

“And spilled his drink” Óscar added, gesturing to the floor and Imelda’s gaze followed the movement, finding the wet stain on the floor of the workshop. At least it hadn’t landed on the shoes or any of the leather. As Imelda eyed the spill and the perro returned to his owner’s side her gato came trotting back into the room and jumped upon the table, before climbing onto Imelda’s shoulders.

“Maybe he could smell Pepita,” Felipe suggested with a shrug, adjusting his glasses as he looked at the newcomer. A turista? A De La Cruz fan? And so not someone Mamá Imelda would want here if he started talking about it. He looked to his twin, and the two of them shared an expression that said they both had the same thought. 

“Well, if the smell of a gato makes him run off quizás he should be on a lead,” Imelda suggested, polite but firm, “There are many gatos in this town, señor,” Pepita purred in agreement, yellow eyes on Maverick and the dog rushed forward again, this time knocking a shoe hammer off the table, tale wagging, wanting the cat to chase with him. Come play, his eyes begged, while Pepita’s said ‘de ninguna manera’

“Is he always so entusiasta?” Imelda asked, looking at the perro with reserved judgement. 

Edmure felt his stomach sink when he heard that Maverick had, in fact, broken something and spilled something else. The dumb dog seemed to think that it was perfectly acceptable to run through other peoples homes. They didn't have a problem with this back home so he wasn't sure why there was such a problem right now. "I can give you money for the vase. So you can buy another one. I can clean up the spilled drink too." It was the least he could offer, right?

"He doesn't run off. We have cats back home too that he likes to play with. Normally this isn't a problem at all. I do-- Maverick." Edmure's voice was stern, something he rarely was with his dog and it seemed to grab the animals attention. Maverick came slinking back to his side, sitting there as he continued to look at the cat longingly to play some game.

"He likes to play, yes. I normally take him on runs but since my wife and I have been traveling, we haven't had a chance to do so. But, we've also been exploring and hiking a lot." Edmure shrugged as if it explained everything. He paused, looking between the brothers and Imelda. "Are you sure you don't want anything for the vase? I can at least clean it up."

[tullyfreckled]

killthebxy:

‘ yes, it is. ‘

          it had been so for a good while now — ever since Donal Noye headed off to die alongside Mag the Mighty in that tunnel, and left Jon in charge of the Wall. from there to becoming the actual lord commander, and now King in the North — the weight and responsibility of decisions had been his alone, and seldom had he had somebody else to go to for advice. which, likely, explained some of the mistakes made… but what could he do? no amount of regret would change the past, and continuing forward was the only option left — for him, for Sansa, for their people. decision was made.

          nonetheless, when he was about to point out he didn’t really count as part of Lady Stark’s children —never really had, after all—, Edmure was faster and the bastard couldn’t help a soft smile. the norm was for him to protect others (which he did gladly, to be sure) and not the other way around, and to hear this broken man now speaking of taking care of him was, at the very least, heart-warming. even if it might be an illusion, even if, at the end of the day, it would turn out that war would consume all of them as it had already done to their loved ones. it was nice, to believe in a happier ending if only for a moment or two.

          ‘ do that, then, my lord — head to Winterfell, and keep Sansa safe. your sister’s daughter. ‘ and the two of them looked more alike than ever, he thought; Lord Tully himself surely wouldn’t need long to notice it. ‘ i’ll stay, in order to secure the dragonglass… and, hopefully, i’ll be able to convince Queen Daenerys to join our cause, in the meanwhile. if not — i will return home as well, and then we’ll plan out next step. ‘

          It felt strange to have some sort of purpose in all of this, to have some sort of say in everything that was going on. Edmure had no say for so long. No matter what he said, no matter what he did, everyone always countered against him. Or, he was marrying someone to keep the bond between Stark, Tully, and Frey, only to have that lead to his captivity, his entire family slaughtered. Edmure had no say then, no matter what they taunted him with, no matter what was being said, Edmure had no say. There was nothing he could do on the matter, nothing that would make them give him some lee-way. And then the Dragon Queen came. Her men came, opening cells, releasing prisoners, and hearing their stories. And here he was, standing on the beach with Jon Snow, his brother-by-marriage's bastard. What a funny way to end everything.

          Catelyn would not be pleased, he knew. There was little he knew about Jon, asides from what he'd heard from Ned or Robb. There was little he knew about the man before him. Edmure wanted to know him better. Regardless of Catelyn's feelings and reservations towards the man, things were different now. They had to rely on the things that they feared most, the people they turned their backs on. Edmure had to keep his chin high if he was going to help his nieces and nephews.

          "When you return back to Winterfell, I wish to know you more." Edmure confused, his toes curling in the sand, feeling the water pulling them away. His back was to the water and it seemed like he wouldn't be able to enjoy it until after the war, until after he was back in Riverrun, back in his rightful home. "I feel as if you're a good man, Jon, and we may not be related by blood, but we have to keep our family close to each other when everyone has so little left."

[tullyfreckled]

takenwings:

“What?” Mona asked, immediately picking up on the half-begun sentence. In her experience, people didn’t usually fail to end what they were saying because they changed their mind, but because they were worried about the reaction if they finished saying it. But why would Edmure have any reason to be worried about her reaction? They were in this together, weren’t they? “Edmure…” She prompted, nudging him lightly with her knee as she looked at him with warm concern. “What is it? What were you going to say?”

Hearing the reports from the old friends he had reached out to didn’t really do anything to comfort Mona or even give her new information; it only confirmed what she had suspected already. That this was a woman as much stuck on drugs as she was stuck in the past…part of her natural instinct was to help her, but that wasn’t her line of work anymore, she wasn’t here to help everyone, but she could help someone. And the someone she would choose was that young boy, if there was anything he needed help with….but if the Serah also needed help….Mona felt herself a little torn between her old habits and her relatively new ones. Mortals didn’t have the power to help everyone, they just didn’t have the capacity, so they just had to do the best they could. It was all she could do now. 

Help the boy and then if she was able, help the woman. But Kevin was priority. 

“Wait, you don’t think he’s hers at all?” Mona asked, sitting up straight in surprise. The kid had been off, yes, awkward, but that was all to be expected if his Mother was using him and neglecting him in the same breath; the situation was hardly one that bred confidence in a child. “You think…” Mona frowned deeply, “but if you’re right…where would she have found him?”

He wasn't sure if he wanted to say what he was thinking, if he wanted to voice his question. There were plently of other things they were worrying about right now, offering this idea wouldn't help right now. Yet, she pushed, wanting to know. The look on her face was one of concern, one of warm concern. It was different from the time he'd broken his wrist playing football, that had been worried concern, but this was different. They both gave the same concern in different ways. Edmure almost said what he was going to say but stopped when Mona sat up in surprise.

"No, I don't. I don't think he's mine either." Edmure confessed. There was just something about him that seemed off. He might have the same red hair and freckles, but he didn't look like any Tully or anyone from Serah's family. There were just somethings that didn't add up every time Serah spoke to him. After recording the meeting, he'd listened to it a few times and after taking with Kevin, after talking with his old friends, Edmure just couldn't believe that Kevin was her son. Or rather, their son. The more he thought about it, the more he wanted to do the DNA test.

"I can't see her picking up a child from the streets and claiming him. I wouldn't put it past her to find someone else's kid." Edmure shook his head, running his fingers through his auburn hair. Edmure wanted all the answers that he couldn't have right now. "What I was going to say.. and I don't know if it's going to be possible... but when this all said and done, we find out the answers... even if Kevin isn't Serah's, I don't think he comes from a good home life, you can see that from the way he response to things. And we've both wanted another kid... what if we try to bring him in?" Edmure asked quietly, unsure of how Mona was going to react. It was going to add extra layers of complication that Edmure wasn't sure was necessary, or even if it would be possible.

[tullyfreckled]

takenwings:

“Absolutely fine,” Mona insisted, wiping off a tiny bit of ice cream off her score card in order to make sure her marks for the game remained unsmudged, as she took another bite of the Cornetto. The sun was beating down pleasantly, warm on her back but not so warm that it was going to burn her, and the grass on the cricket ground was dry enough to play without the players’ uniforms turning from glistening white to muddy black. 

It might be considered an entirely perfect day…if she ignored the niggling in the back of her head that being here was just a distraction, a plaster over the real problem, the real issue. They had talked over some things, yes, and emotionally they were in a better place, but a little chat in the middle of the night didn’t make those issues go away entirely like magic…much as she might wish the to. 

“We should start doing this more often,” She suggested, “I don’t mean specifically cricket…but in general. Away time. I mean your sister does it with her family often enough and her and Ned’s schedule is….well, let’s be honest, it’s insane” Especially as they had children. Something Mona ached for….if they moved away, left all this behind, they could have the time and the space and the freedom to adopt even if she couldn’t have a child herself. “If they can do it, why not us?” She paused, “That didn’t sound like I was pitting you against your sister, did it?”

"Uh huh." Edmure didn't believe her as he glanced at the unsmudged scorecard. There had been ice cream on there and her chin, clearly she was having a more difficult time than what she wanted to admit. But, as her attention was dropped from the melting treat, Edmure focused on the game again, eating his own ice cream with a determination not to allow any to drop on him. He was fully focused on the game, watching the plays progress. While he liked watching the game, it wasn't one that he particularly enjoyed playing. Instead, he focused on football, playing in weekly games if his schedule allowed for it. Here, he enjoyed spending time with Mona, eating melting ice cream, and watching the two teams battle it out.

He had been solely focused on the game, Edmure unsure of what exactly Mona was talking about at first. His attention was drawn to the player hitting before his looked at her, blinking for a moment as if he was trying to register what Mona was saying. When it finally did register, he gave an "ah-ha" noise.

"I'm always down for spending time alone with you, you know that." At times, they were too wrapped up in everything, work, life, etc. for them to have those away times. Everything they just experienced was a result of lack of communication and alone time. Maybe it should be something they do more often, find more time to spend with just the two of them. It would make life more interesting, exciting, and hopefully less complicated. "No, you're not. It's simply an example. Edmure reasoned that was a good answer. "Do you think it should be a weekly thing? Bi-weekly? Once a month? Once a year?" Edmure teased.

[tullyfreckled]

matriarcarivera:

@tullyfreckled​

She had been nailing in a heel when she heard the sound of something breaking and her cat jumped from his perch, immediately running off to investigate. Another sound of things being knocked over and the sound of both her hermanos yelping, made Imelda put down her tools, and march out into the garden behind her zapataría. 

That’s when she saw the dog. Chaos and noise and excitement and clumsiness. 

“What is going on?” Mamá Imelda demanded, hands on her hips as the dog skidded along the floor, under her tables and into the feet of a stranger, a man with red hair and skin which would probably burn in this sun, who she presumed was the owner.

“Is this tu perro?” She asked, leaning away when the perro tried to lick her. 

At some point Mona had been in a shop, Edmure had been outside with Maverick and something had caught his dogs attention. They'd been playing a nice game of fetch, Edmure throwing the stick and Maverick would bring it back, how the game was usually suppose to happen. However, the dog was distracted and took off, causing Edmure to shout and run after Maverick.

Somehow Maverick had ended up inside someone's home and Edmure groaned, chasing after Maverick. He could hear others in the home, Edmure stopping when Maverick skid into one of the actual buildings. Edmure wasn't sure he wanted to intrude on the building and rather, watched helplessly as Maverick skid directly into someone.

"He is, I'm sorry. Maverick, come." Edmure pointed to his side and the poor dog looked confused, unsure if he should come or try to get more pets from the stranger. "I hope he didn't break anything. He normally doesn't run away like that."

[asoiafmasterlist]

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[fadetogrey-deactivated20190601]

“Fuck you. I’m still standing.”

— giraffelicks (via ofbreaking)

[tullyfreckled]

starkmatriarch:

“It is not the Gods which bring this upon us, brother, it is men,” Catelyn spoke cynically but with a heaviness also of one too worn by wars for too many years. Why must it always be fighting and why always must it be the innocent who suffer for it? What part did children play in wars and yet they became pawns regardless. And what of women? In the name of ending war, they were given away to one Lord or the next and it was naught but luck which decided whether the husband you were given would be good or no. Of course, Robb had made a marriage pact in the name of war, but he would choose his bride…the Frey girl would be left with no such choice. 

And what was it all for? An iron chair and a gold hat. Mayhaps Ned had the right of it and the North should never have concerned itself with any of the dealings of the south….but how could they have turned their back on lands which held his foster brother as well as her own blood kin? Gods, how she wished matters were more simple, that her heart was not so constantly torn nor her burdens always so heavy.

“It feels sometimes as if I have spent half my life waiting,” Catelyn admitted, recalling the memories of her brother sitting beside her as they watched for their Father and Uncle both. At least Edmure could now go into battle and had no need to sit watching at windows. He was another she must wait for now and pray the Gods keep him safe. 

“Get me what I want?” Catelyn let out a small laugh of disbelief, “What I desire, Edmure, is Cersei Lannister’s head on a plate…but heads will not bring Ned back nor rescue my girls…only armies and battles won will do that” She sighed heavily but there was a note of resolve to her now. “Let us hope I am as successfull in this duty as you believe I shall be” Gods, but I wish I shared your confidence, she added silently.

"And that is precisely why I have stopped praying to the Gods. They could have stopped all the men, they could have stopped people from being killed, this war in general, and yet here we are, cleaning up and trying to win a mess that they easily could have ended." Edmure concluded as he stood up from where he sat on the log, no longer desiring to sit nor be in the gardens any longer. There was nothing going on in the castle but he was sure he could find company for the night. It wouldn't be difficult to find someone to help warm his bed. "And yet, they do nothing to stop any of this."

Edmure shrugged when she made her comment about waiting, as there was nothing he could do about it. Nothing that could change the outcome nor the behavior. He didn't make the rules, he didn't dictate who waited and who went. "We all wait in some form." She waited for them to return, they wall waited to go home back to their families and loved ones. Back to safety. Many a night he would hear men speaking about going back to their home where they didn't have to worry if this night would be their last.

He couldn't help but frown when Catelyn laughed, shaking his head. There was only so much he could do and even he knew it was silly to wish for someone to bring the Queens head back. If the wrong people heard her, they could charge her with treason and her own head on a platter. Wouldn't that be an ironic twist, Edmure thought. "If you are, this war ends sooner than we suspect and we can all go back home. You can have your girls back, go back to Winterfell, and I will run the Riverlands."

[tullyfreckled]

takenwings:

“It is. That’s why you’ll be glad we’re going out of it,” Mona reiterated pointedly, “We have to go through the city to get there, so you might have a few prying eyes and sneering comments along the way, but once we’re at the woods, I doubt you’ll find as many people to care about the shortness of your trousers” It would be a bit of a walk to get there though, and Mona hoped they would happen upon a horse and cart heading the same way that they might sit in the back and make the journey a lot more quickly. 

“If Mr Mountjoy knew you were here, and who you were, where you were from….” Mona frowned as she contemplated, “He would send you straight home, you’d be glad to hear but….from what you’ve said about your future, a future involving me…I’m not sure it would be the same future he would send you back to. He’d reset me, probably, new name, new body, I perhaps wouldn’t be on reprimand because I haven’t done anything yet but….I’d be under watch, I think. That’s why we need to get you back quickly,” She concluded, “I don’t know how I feel about a future where I turn my back on everything for one human– no offence– but if it’s the decision I make, one I choose to make, willingly and fully aware of what it means, then it’s a decision I should have a right to make” She didn’t want Mountjoy discovering it and changing the future before it could happen. Humans weren’t the only ones allowed free will….just celestials were bound with far grander rules.

“And what was I doing?” She asked, daring the question, “While you were getting ready for work and drinking your coffee…what was I doing?”

"Oh joy." Edmure imagined that he would receive less comments wearing the clothes he had right now then if he was wearing what Mona had found him in, he could only imagine the comments and looks. Maybe it was better he was wearing this. He couldn't imagine the walk could be that long, then again, things were different compared to the time he was from. It was difficult to see the similarities, considering the age of the buildings, but he could also see it. "How long will it take?" He asked curiously.

Edmure couldn't help feeling his face fall when Mona explained what could happen if Mountjoy found him here now. Going back to a future without Mona wasn't one that he wanted to experience. He wanted his wife there and not some stranger that Mountjoy would set up to be his wife. Hell no, he wanted to go back to Mona. "I don't want him to know I'm here then." Edmure concluded after a moment, a worrisome look on his face as they walked besides each other. "That wouldn't be fair to you nor me, especially when I had no control over the fact I came here." Then it wouldn't be fair at all, considering he had little control. Did he want to be here? Absolutely not, and yet here he was.

"You?" Edmure paused, trying to remember if it was a day when Mona had gone into work early or not. "You had already left for work, it was one of your earlier work days. So you weren't home."

[tullyfreckled]

OLYMPIAN AESTHETICS.

tagged by : @takenwings tagging : anyone who wants to do it

APHRODITE:     laughter-loving.      sweet  smiles.     dressed  in  silk  and  satin.    flower  in  their  hair.     sees  the  world  as  a  runway.     unapologetically  sexual.    the  sea  washing  their  ankles.    in  love  with  love.   stirrer  of  passion.    cunning  concealed  by  painted  lips.    secret  daggers.    doves.    revolution  in  their  kiss.    delighting  in  the  waves.     flirtatious  winks.   strolling  along  the  beach.     staring  wistfully  from  a  balcony.   this  is  how  to  be  a  heartbreaker.     wants  to  be  adored.    gets  turned  on  by  danger.

APOLLO:       glitz  and  glamour.     art  galleries.      turning  the  volume  up.     being  made  of  gold.   neatly-organized  music  sheets.     notebooks  filled  with  poetry.   bathing  in  the  sunlight.   the  powerful  urge  to  create.    collecting  vinyl  records.     beautiful  cover  of  wonderwall.    playing  multiple  instruments.     tasting  like  sunshine.      healing  touch.  speaking  in  prophecies.     smile  mingled  with  wrath.     shunning  lies.     sporting  shades.     hanging  out  at  music  festivals  with  their  friends.   sleeps  naked.   arrow  to  the  heart.  paint  brushes.     probably  has  a  tinder  account.

ARES:       armed  for  battle.     wants  to  raise  a  dog  with  their  significant  other.   soft  spot  for  children.    gives  piggyback  rides.  scarred  body.    blood  on  their   hands  and  face. willing  to  fight  the  world  for  the  ones  they  love.    fights  against  injustice.   warm  hugs.     well-worn  combat  boots.     boxing gloves.     bandages  wrapped  around  bruised  knuckles.   fist  raised  in  protest.     ignites  revolutions.     fear  is  a  prison.       more  sensitive  than  what  their  tough  shell  would  have  you  think.   exhausted.  damaged  goods.   force  to  be  reckoned  with.   red  roses.   curses  under  their  breath.

ARTEMIS:       keen  sense  of  a  hunter.       freckles  like  constellations  on  their  skin.   piercing  eyes. disheveled  braid.    moonlight  peeking  through  the  shadows.   the  calm  of  the  forest  at  night.    lying  on  the  grass  and  staring  at  the  stars.   mother  doe  and  her  fawn.     protecting  their  kin.     the  moon  shimmering  on  a  still  lake.    quiver  full  of  arrows  resting  against  the  bark  of  a  tree.    running  with  wolves.      bonding  while  circled  around  a  campfire.    not  being  much  of  a  people  person.      arrow  hitting  a  target.     popping  egos.   patience  on  3%.   touches  heaven  and  returns  howling.

ATHENA:     discerning  gaze.      unreadable  face.     quiet  museums.    owl  perched  on  their  finger.    armor  that  intimidates.     eye  for  architecture.     plays  the  sims  for  the  sole  purpose  of  building   houses.     studied  the  blade  while  everyone  else  was  busy  getting  laid.     big  fan  of  logic.     loves  brain  teasers, ancient  buildings.     sweaters  in  neutrals  and  cool  colors.   hair  done  up.   can  kill  you  with  their  brain.     heads  to  the  library  often  to  research.    sharpened  pencils.  abs  that  can  cut  steel.  stoic  statues.    pottery classes.

DEMETER:      soil-covered  hands.    smile  that  can  bloom  flowers.     skin  loved  by  the  sun.     being  the  mom-friend.   can  lift  you  and  your  friends.  flowers  kept  in  the  pockets  of  overalls.    takes  pride  in  their  beautiful  garden.    speaks  to  their  plants.      leaves  rustling  in  the  wind.    stalks  of  wheat.    picking  fruit.    greenhouses.   heart  as  strong  as  a  mountain.   values  simplicity.   daisies  dotted  across  a  collarbone.  curls  crowned  with  flowers.    folded  pile  of  sweaters  in  warm  hues.     pulling  out  fresh-baked  bread  out  of  the  oven  and  the  smell  wafting  through  the  air.

DIONYSUS:     drunk  shitposter.    on  their  sixth  glass  of  wine  before  you’ve  even  finished  your  second.   seductive  smirks.    untamed curls.   rich  fabrics  on  dark  skin.      sleek-furred  panthers.     theater  masks.    stage  productions.   receiving  a  standing  ovation.     rose  caught  between  their  teeth.      being  the  baby  of  the  bunch.     wild  parties  that  last  from  sundown  to  sunup.     creeping  vines.     inspiring  loyalty.  grand  opera  houses.     masquerade  balls.     rolls  of  film.    shattered  chandeliers  with  broken glass  scattered  across  the  wine-spilled  floor.    pouring  champagne  into  flutes.   lives  for  the   applause.

HEPHAESTUS:      the  calloused  hands  of  someone  who  knows  labor.      sweaty  brow.    flame  burning  in  their  eyes.   inventive  mind.   broad  shoulders.    steampunk  goggles.    nuts  and  bolts  stored  away  in  little  boxes.     ashes.   striking  a  match.     blueprints        for  future  projects.     fixing  up  a  busted  up  car  and  giving  it  cool  upgrades.      wrestles  with  bitterness. work  boots  have  seen  better  years.     wrinkled  plaid              shirts.    iron  melted  in  blazing  fire.     huge  jackets.   crafting  masterpieces.     greased-    stained  overalls.     fascination  with  robotics.   pain  is  fuel.     stack  of  weaponry.             even   their  muscles  have  muscles.

HERA:     resting  bitch  face.     dressed  to  the  nines.  cows  grazing  on  a  pasture.   cool  rain.    loving  and  hating  fiercely.    hand  clutching  a  string  of  pearls.     large  chandelier  with  glittering  crystals.   plays  the  sims  for  the  sole  purpose  of  killing  off  their  sims.    romance  to  realism.     pictures  of  the  sky  while  flying  on  a  plane.    files  that  under  fuck  it.     downs  glasses  of  wine  as  they  relax  with  a  scented  bubble  bath  and  netflix.  like  their  selfie  or  you’re  grounded.    knows  57  convenient  ways  to  murder  a  man.   dark  eyes  that  penetrate  your  soul.  marble  and  gold.

HERMES:    devil-may-care  smile.   always  up-to-date  on  the  latest  technology.   will  steal  your  french  fries.    does  it  for  the vine.     shitposter.     puts  googly  eyes  on  everything.     meme  hoarder.    long  drives  on  the  highway.   ma  and  pop  diners.  spontaneous  road  trips. folded  maps.   fingers  dancing  across  the  keyboard  of  a  laptop.      shooting  hoops  on  the  basketball  court.     chatting  up  strangers  as  you  all  journey  to  your  own  destinations.  goes  jogging  in  the  morning.   mixes  redbull  with  coffee.     menace  on  april fool’s.     hoodies  and  sneakers.  

POSEIDON:      storm  with  skin.     colorful  coral  reefs.    waves  crashing  against  the  shore.    stroking  the  soft  fur  of  a  cat.   their  heart  pounding  as  their  horse’s  gentle  trot  speeds  into  a  gallop.   tousled  locks. clothes  smeared  with  paint.     owns  several  sketchbooks  yet  always  yearns  to  own  more.    leather  jackets.   fondness  for  diy  projects.   handwriting  that  flows  across  the  page.   nimble  fingers  playing  the  strings  of  a  violin.     velvety  singing  voice  that  haunts  your  dreams.   mood  as  ever-changing  as  the  sea.   the  roar  of  a  motorcycle.   compass  with  a  spinning arrow.

ZEUS:     thunder  in  their  heart.     running  on  coffee.     flash  of  lightning.   natural charisma. eloquence.   badass  in  a  nice  suit.  aficionado  of  history.   force of nature.  lenny  face.   nightmare-filled  nights.   proud  arm  around  their  lover’s  waist.   high-rise  buildings. planes  soaring  through  a  cloudless  sky.     technician  on  the  piano.  maintains  order.   strong  handshake.   juggling  multiple  events  on  their  busy  schedule with  ease.  expensive watch.

[truelovesuggestion]

I’m not sure if I believe in soulmates, but I’m kind of convinced you are mine.

[tullyfreckled]

takenwings:

“It is,” Mona admitted seriously, looking at Edmure intensely as she did so. She had gotten what she wanted when she had told Mr Mountjoy that she wanted to give it all up to be human, she had been allowed to leave, to live as a mortal with a mortal life and a mortal husband. But wanting that didn’t mean she wanted to give up helping, making a difference, that was something she could never want to give up; it was what she was made for and what she enjoyed. She did it in her work at the firm, of course, helping people, but if she could actively help on bigger things, things that were beyond the reach of plain, mortal help, then maybe she’d feel less guilty about how selfish her decision had been to choose Edmure over everything else.

 “I remember having Earth Liaisons when I would come down on tours of duty. They were mortals who knew who we were, what we were, they worked for Mr Mountjoy…they were there to give us a base, to give us information on the times if there was something we didn’t know, a support network, someone who was permanently on Earth that we could go to…they changed each time obviously” Mortals didn’t live forever after all, far from it. “But if I could do that, be an Earth Liaison myself, it would mean being able to help in a way I can’t at the firm” It would mean more flexibility with work in general as her boss would be Mr Mountjoy again, a boss who was literally over everyone’s head, but would it be worth it if in the long run it just caused problems between she and Edmure? 

It was a concern she put to the back of her mind for a while as they booked tickets and ate pancakes and kept the television on lazily in the background. Nothing exciting, nothing out of the ordinary, just everyday married life things. It was nice. Nicer still when Maverick decided to join them and Mona made an active and conscious ever to mention not a single thing about work for the rest of their time together; no Tom, no Zak, no new jobs, no Mountjoy, none of it. She even avoided getting a clean towel out of the linen cupboard just so she wouldn’t have to look at that stupid click. 

By the next day when they were at the cricket match, it felt to Mona as if a whole weight was lifted off, they were just any other married couple anywhere else in the world. She felt Edmure looking at her as she sat in her seat, score card in her lap and ice cream in her hand. “I can keep score and eat this at the same time” She told him, “You’re not the only one of many talents” A small drop of ice cream dribbled down her chin and she only caught it in time. 

Edmure had noticed there was less tension in the air, it was every fading the more time they spent together without mentions of work. He knew that it couldn't always be that way, that they would have to talk about it again, but he liked it. He liked that they were just Edmure and Mona, nothing about the countdown to the end of the world, nothing about the fact that all of this was going to end eventually and they were trying to stop it. Edmure didn't realize how much he missed just Mona until they were spending time together, as they use to before either Tom or Zak decided to move in. He liked it and he wanted to keep it that way, the selfish part of him did.

The non-selfish part knew that he couldn't do that, that they needed to keep moving forward with her work as it would save so many people, even themselves in the end. Edmure tried not to think about any of it, diving fully into everything they were doing, even when they were making tacos and the meat went every where because Maverick decided to jump up and try to snatch it from him. There had been a moment of anger before he sighed, laughing at what his dog had done. Edmure declared in that moment that they should probably take their dog for a walk, that way he could get some exercise too.

When they were settled in their seats, ice cream in hand, Edmure ate his carefully, as it was melting quicker than normal for some reason. It wasn't even that warm outside. He wondered if the ice cream guy did it on purpose for others to find amusement in the fact their ice cream was melting. When he realized that Mona was scoring at eating it, he looked at her with slightly bewilderment. "Uh huh... how well is it going for you?" Edmure teased, deciding not to tell her about the ice cream on his chin, but she had found it anyway. "It seems to me that you're struggling a bit there."