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@warblighted-blog
oathbroken:
‘ point ’em out, ’ he says, completely sincerely, ‘ and i’ll go smack ’em for you. ’ he gives her a light nudge, though, all the same. ‘ at least pretend to be having fun. ’
“ bal, please. ” despite the way she rolls her eyes, she still smiles. “ if you buy me a drink in one of those stupid cups that lights up, i’ll start having a bit more fun. deal? ”
oathbroken:
@warblighted. modern sc.
‘ aren’t you glad you came after all, eh? ’
it’s loud, it’s crowded, and above all it’s fucking hot outside. “ i’ve had six different guys ask for my number without even bothering to look me in the eyes when they asked. ”
Let it be over, she pleaded within herself. Let it never have happened—any of it. Let me be young again, and the story just starting.
Catherynne M. Valente, from Deathless (via luthienne)
oathbroken:
‘ emilia, ’ he repeats in a sigh that could only mean he’s fallen in love. grier is right, of course. why wouldn’t he want to hold her? this man, who has always loved family more than anything else in this world. even more than fame, or glory, or any amount of power he might’ve scratched up for himself over this last, long decade.
he may be tired, and faltering, and perhaps even nearing his end these days, but little emilia has made up for it all tenfold. it’s been a few years since he’s held a child so young ( six, is it? seven? truth be told, it feels like isobel was this age only months ago to him ) but, once you’ve become an expert at something, the knowledge usually sticks around. soon enough, he’s looking as natural as ever.
‘ aren’t you the loveliest thing? let’s get you inside, out of this cold. ’ he gestures off toward a nearby door, which will lead them through to the gardens and then into skyhold’s hall without having to worry about too many steps. he still dotes so dearly upon his niece as they walk, but he has to ask grier all the same: ‘ why didn’t you write to me? she’s zevran’s, i take it? oh, grier, she’s a darling. why wouldn’t you write me? ’
ah, yes. the inevitable question. for a moment she doesn’t answer and instead takes in how lovely it is to see her daughter in balfour’s arms. emilia smiles and tugs at a few bits of his current outfit. “ yes, she is zevran’s. ” she answers the easier question first while giving her daughter a poke to her cheek, earning a gentle giggle. “ i tried to write. ”
her tone is a bit somber as she begins. “ i wanted to tell you so many times. when i first knew... one of my first thoughts was to let you know. but, i never did. then she was born and again, i wanted to tell you... ” she truly isn’t painting herself in the best light. then again, she doesn’t seem to be trying to do as such. “ i suppose i wanted to do it in person. to see your face as you got to hold her. i’m sorry, i know i should have come sooner. ” but she is here now, is she not?
“ she loves you. ” she points out as her daughter’s curious eyes look up at balfour instead of examining the new area she’s been brought into. “ she can’t take her eyes off of you. ” it makes grier laugh softly. “ i cannot believe she’s been swept away by your charm already. ”
royalwarden:
❛ how do they move these for the forest ? do the trees just move aside for them ? ❜ // @warblighted.
“ truthfully, i don’t tend to ask questions i know i’ll never get the answer to. ”
oathbroken:
his heart melts in the certain kind of way that it’s only done twice before. isobel had been newly born when he’d first laid eyes upon her, but kieran had been a few years old by the time he finally met him, but both of them sent his heart aflutter the same way it is now. it’s hard not to love a child that shares your blood in any way. at least for balfour, that is.
‘ grier. ’ he lets out a very soft oh, and so very quickly does a grin spread across his face. his attention turns to the little girl soon enough, and he steps closer, both to act as a buffer against the cold and to see her all the better. if he is an awfully scary looking man as his sister says, there’s surely no trace of it upon him now. ‘ hello there, my darling. oh, look at you. ’ when was the last time he had cause to smile so widely? when was the last time he even wanted to? save, perhaps, for when morrigan and kieran arrived to settle in skyhold. ‘ i’m your uncle balfour. who are you, then? ’
she knows she should have made some mention of it. a letter sent off to tell the news, perhaps. but each time she thought of doing as such she stopped herself. it was something best left to do in person, she thought, and how absolutely thrilled she was in that moment to know she’d made the right choice in waiting. “ emilia. ” grier coos as she nudges her daughter’s hand to encourage a wave towards balfour. after a few moments, emilia warms up to the strange face and gives her uncle a smile.
grier glances over to catch balfour’s face and despite how he beams she can still see the underlying exhaustion that settles on his features. he looks so much worse than she could have ever imagined, the mark on his hand that she’s been hearing of can not be much help. “ here, ” she begins while shifting the child off her hip. “ go on, hold her. i know you want to. careful, she bites -- ”
knowshonor:
“under the qun, your family would likely still live. they would serve a different purpose, but this…” his tongue feels thick in his mouth, wrapping around the words of the common language. he might speak it well, but it’s not always so easy. “this ‘arl howe’ would not have had opportunity to strike as he did.” sten is aware this is not comforting. these are more words spoken at once than he has in months, but he hadn’t been expecting to want to give comfort over a dead body today, either. he stares down at arl howe, and the strange way his body has bent. “it is good he is dead.”
@warblighted liked for a starter.
it is true what they say; grier’s heart is soft and kind. but, no one speaks of the moments where she can be cruel when she needs to be. ever since that night, she’s had this silent oath of vengeance tucked away inside of her. no acts of diplomacy would be enough to serve the justice she craved for what had been done. “ likely or not, they are still dead. ” and the body she stares down at does not change that fact. nothing will ever change that. “ it is. ” is it not? she’s wanted this for so long. “ i doubt the maggots and rats will find him delectable for their supper, how foul he is. ”
oathbroken:
‘ fun? ’ he hears himself laugh. it is a bitter and disbelieving sound, though he knows she’s mostly just joking. but the truth is, balfour hasn’t been so miserable since the days of the fifth blight. he has his family here, yes, or one of them at least, but even that doesn’t make up for the fact that he knows he’s dying. and he quite literally has the weight of the world upon his shoulders now, which was never something he wanted. ‘ well, worry not, sister. there’s nothing fun happening here. just because you heard about us at the winter palace doesn’t mean it’s all like that. –but your help would be appreciated. between you and i, this is worse than the blight ever was. ’
“ i suppose i will see that for myself, will i not? ” she smiles gently, though even in that she almost struggles. the memories of the blight are always ever fresh in her head at the slightest mentions of it. thinking that this could be so much worse than that... with a tiny sigh she tries to brighten herself up a bit. a voice calls for her in the distance and she pulls from her brother to glance at the sound before turning back to him. “ i promise you all the help i can afford, ” she begins. “ but let us leave that business for later. i’d like to brighten your day if you’d allow it. ” she doesn’t wait for a yes or no before hurrying off.
minutes later she returns with a blanket covered child in her arms. no older than two years by the look of it. grier has her covered warmly, protecting her daughter from the harsh cold of the mountains. she smiles wide and bright but instead of saying anything to him, she coos to the little girl. “ would you like to meet your uncle? ” the question has the child peeking past the blanket and looking over to balfour with big, curious eyes. “ i know he’s awfully scary looking but i promise he’s no more dangerous than a stuffed bear -- ”
oathbroken:
‘ come here– ’
there is not an inch of him that doesn’t hurt, a single part of him that isn’t aching and sore, but balfour throws his arms around her all the same. it hurts, of course, but it’s entirely worth it. it is such a gift to be able to see grier again after so long, and if anything is a sign of the maker’s blessing, it is surely this over some mark that is slowly killing him.
he only pulls back to look at her, his hand at her face, and his own is so soft, so full of wonder and love at the sight of her. ‘ oh, my sister. look at you, well and freckled as ever. ’ he perks his brows, dips in just a little more as if to get across that he’s serious now. ‘ and you still can’t spin a lie worth half a damn. why did you come? ’
there is nothing in the world that could have stopped her from embracing that hug to it’s fullest. maker, how she has missed him. for a time, she’d stayed in ferelden and close to her dear brother -- but other matters called for her so she left. a promise to return finally kept. “ you only say that so i don’t smack you in the shoulder for daring to call me old. ” she teases to his kind words, but her smile is bright and full. his next words almost barks a laugh out of her, though she doesn’t dare to be so open. so a gentle laugh is sufficient enough.
“ i think you’d find that i am a fantastic liar, thank you. ” her tongue has always been as sharp and elegant as her blade when needed after all. “ perhaps i’ve come to help. ” she offers at the very least. “ i can’t let my brother have all the fun, can i? ”
rosecrowncd:
Ophelia steps back as Grier rushes forward, eyes pinned on her brother’s face. She knows she should feel something, even if it’s just relief, or victory. Guilt would be better, or grief. As it is, there is nothing but a hollow yawning in her chest, right where a heart might once have been. She has seen men die countless times before, but she finds this time she cannot look away. Maybe he deserves as much from her for this. Maybe he deserves so much better.
Not that it matters much what he deserves, anymore. He’s dead, now, and the dagger at her side drips with his blood. It’s done. It’s over with.
Grier stands, and speaks, and comes towards her, but it takes a moment for Ophelia to tear her gaze away from Balfour to her sister. And finally, finally, she snaps back to the present. Ophelia is so incredibly casual as she steps across the room for a rag to wipe her dagger clean, placing it back in its scabbard.
❝ I told him, ❞ she replies quietly, ❝ I would not go back to what I was before. ❞ She sweeps her hair out of her face, settling a cold glare on her sister, lips twisting into a scowl. She has done what must be done, and while Grier’s grief is understandable, Ophelia does not CARE for the anger she tosses at her feet.
But the idea that she is a Cousland no longer prompts a cold, bitter LAUGH. ❝ No, I suppose you’re right. Soon I’ll be a Theirin. ❞ And there it is, a swell of PRIDE, the sweet taste of victory on her tongue. She steps closer to her sister, leans in to whisper with a smirk playing at the corners of her lips. ❝ Try your best. But I will be the one that goes down in history for elevating our family to royalty. I will be the one they sing songs of in the ages to come. Run along now, dear Sister, and find someone to clean up this mess, would you? ❞
the rage that bubbles up inside of her is unlike anything she has ever felt. at her hip, her hand twitches, aching to grab her blade and get it over with. it’s what bal would have wanted, right? to get the revenge he deserves and murder ophelia right back. but, she never grabs it. grier is too good. would she be any better for taking her sister’s life? would it bring balfour back to her?
“ you’re pathetic. ” she continues. it’s hard to focus on her words when she’s seeing nothing but red. “ heavy is the head that wears the crown and we both know you will never be strong enough to wear it forever. ” perhaps one day ophelia will get her due. that giant head of hers will topple right from her shoulders if this is how she is going to play the game. “ you have always been weak. ” she swallows heavily and turns back to balfour. she feels her heart sink all the way down to her feet at the sight of him. “ you are no sister to me. ” given the words they had shared only hours prior to this moment, her words have a bite as she looks back to what is no longer her flesh and blood. “ if only mother and father could see you now. ”
finally she steps back and kneels back down next to balfour. she has to do something because she surely will not let ophelia be a part of the burning that is now to come. “ get out of my sight. ” she speaks softly but the hatred is still there. “ go get your crown and pray i never hear my name or his out of your mouth ever again. ” the look she gives ophelia bast glazed over eyes screams the words she does not say. you are all alone now and it’s all your fault.
oathbroken.
rosecrowncd.
do they think her an idiot? do they think that she believes them, even for a single second, when they say balfour won’t readily take the glory for ending this blight, the same way he is usurping her crown? and she’d let him have that, too, if only he’d have left her to the throne. but as balfour walks away, she can feel everything she’s worked for slipping from her fingertips, can feel herself being shoved back into the corner, back into the shadows where she cannot do harm.
she’d warned him. she won’t go back into hiding. into obscurity.
grier approaches, and ophelia turns her head to look at her sister with a great sadness in green eyes. she reaches for her, squeezes her hand, swallows the words she wants to say. you will always be my sister. and when she lets go, she’s stepping towards her brother, trying to catch him before he goes. ❝ bal, ❞ she calls, and her voice is soft, so unlike herself, and that seems to be what gets him to stop.
ophelia takes the chance to close the distance, opening her mouth as if to say something, as if to apologize. but instead she takes a dagger from her belt and sinks it straight into her brother’s stomach. ❝ i told you, ❞ she hisses, twisting the knife, ❝ i told you the crown is mine. ❞
and then she pulls the dagger from him, lets him fall at her feet, and does not move to help.
@oathbroken
for a moment, he almost keeps going, but ophelia sounds so gentle, and she’s his sister, and he thinks she might’ve had a change of heart. isn’t that all he wants, at the end of the day? for them all to get along, because they’re all each other has? she comes closer, and he waits there, not so certain of what it is she’ll say but more than willing to hear her out anyway.
it takes him a breath, maybe two to realise she hasn’t followed after him to talk, though. the pain seems to be delayed and, for a moment, he can only look at her with… such pain and sorrow and– and– and confusion upon his face. oh, he’s feeling something now, that’s for damn sure. balfour has seen people do any number of horrific things this past year and, truthfully, ophelia has begun to worry him of late, but he’d never thought her capable of slaying her own kin.
even he wouldn’t do that. even he knows where to draw the line before his own greed kills the person he is.
‘ no, ’ leaves him in a pathetic whine. not you, he wants to say. not this. please, not this. but she twists the knife and it steals his voice, steals his strength– or maybe it’s ophelia’s words that do it. what have they done to themselves? weren’t they so close once? wasn’t she the girl he would have done anything to protect?
as if he can guess her next move, his hand settles around the dagger’s blade in an attempt to keep it there. she wrenches it free all the same. his eyes find grier and his face is a silent plea– for help or for her to flee and save herself, it’s hard to tell– and he doesn’t look away as he slumps to the ground.
his hand presses over the wound inflicted by his own dear sister, but it isn’t doing him much good. he can barely keep his eyes on grier. and he’s thinking… he’s thinking he wanted to die once before, that he’d been ready when castle cousland was falling apart around them, but now, maker, he’s so scared. now death is the last thing he wants, and yet… and yet… there’s some relief there after all, he realises, as everything gets cloudier and more muddled.
this may not be a great and heroic death but… he’ll be with fergus now, and mother and father, and he’s missed them. he’s missed them. balfour screws his face up into a grimace and turns his face further into the floor. if the stone is cold, then he can barely feel it. but he isn’t thinking about that. he’s thinking about sword fights with his brother, day-long riding trips with his father, his mother stroking his hair… and grier’s face.
i’m sorry, he thinks he says. i’m sorry it’s just you and her now.
@warblighted.
in the moment she catches balfours gaze, her entire world shifts. she has felt this feeling once before, when they were fleeing from their home and leaving their parents behind to their fate. she had never wanted to feel this feeling again but it seems fate has other plans. “ no... ” she struggles to get out at first while watching helplessly. “ no! ” she shrieks this time and pushes ophelia away as she darts forward towards bal.
she all but collapses beside him and her hands reach for his wound. in an instant it seems her hands are coated in his blood as she struggles to help him. “ bal, look at me. balfour -- don’t -- don’t die. please you can’t die. ” she tries to keep a hold of herself but her hands shake dramatically and her breathing grows erratic. “ balfour cousland i swear in the maker’s name if you don’t look at me -- ” eventually she looks up at ophelia with shock and confusion painted across her features.
“ how could you be so selfish? ” she questions, her voice strained as she continues to cover her brother’s fatal wound as best as she can. she glances back down at balfour and tears her hands from his stomach and up to cradle his face. “ don’t leave me like this, bal. ” she pleads softly, tears streaming almost endlessly down her face and staining her cheeks. “ not like this... ” but it’s no use and once grier realizes that -- it’s over. today will be the day she lost both her sister and her brother. as far as she’s concerned, she is all on her own.
she looks back at ophelia and slowly she rises to her feet and steps over balfour’s body. she will do no more harm to him. dead or alive. “ you foul, twisted wretch. ” grier spits at her sister’s feet. “ was it worth it? was it?! after all that we have lost you have the nerve to be so unjust and greedy? ” she has half a mind to pull her own dagger and give ophelia a taste of her own medicine. however, deep down she is still her sister and grier knows this. it’s what makes her hesitate. “ i hope your envy and your ego is the death of you. ”
it’s a terrible thing to curse upon your own sister but it is something she will never take back. “ whatever you become i will do everything in my power to make sure no one remembers the name of the mad queen who murdered her own brother. you are nothing to me now and you will be nothing to the people who will eventually forget you and all that you are. the couslands will surely go down in history for what we have done in this age but you are a cousland no longer! ”
@rosecrowncd
oathbroken.
rosecrowncd.
Of course he puts himself between the sisters, and OF COURSE he’s going to support Grier. The girl will undoubtedly end up supporting his claim, because damn her! Damn the youngest, the mage sister that has only ever done what was necessary to ensure she did not disappear into the shadows. ❝ You would call this freedom?! ❞ she screams. Yes, of course he would! She’d wanted to join the Wardens as little as he did, and she’ll be damned if she’s stuck with them after all this. ❝ You will not be nothing, Bal. You don’t want Highever? Fine. I’ll give you Gwaren. I’ll give you whatever lands and titles you want but do not take this from me! ❞
But her glare falls on her sister once more, neck craning around Balfour to get a proper look at the girl. ❝ And what would you have me do? ❞ she asks in a low, dangerous voice. ❝ Give up on months of convincing Alistair to do this? Stay with the Wardens while Balfour gets his crown and his glory and you get to run away and I get left behind and forgotten? Would the two of you truly do that to your own sister? ❞
@oathbroken
he just might be willing to let a crown tear the last of this family apart, yes. the guilt flutters in his chest and then fades as if it’s nothing, and maybe once he would’ve hated himself for that. but he’s tired, so tired, and he doesn’t feel anything he should be. all he can think of is the future, and how there isn’t one for him at highever anymore. not after what happened.
and he is so sick of other people trying to determine his fate, of doing whatever they want with his life because they deem their own to be more important. he loves his sister, he really does, but… he has to end it somewhere. it’s his fate, his glory, and not another soul in this world or the fade is going to control it anymore.
‘ you’re going to be a blighted hero. they won’t forget you. there’s no point arguing, anyway. i’m the only son, and i’m the oldest, and as far as i’m concerned, that makes it my right. ’
he’s decided, then. he’s drawn the line in the sand. balfour turns to look at grier over his shoulder and, for a moment, he actually looks sad. but it passes, like everything passes these days. he is full up on grief.
‘ i’m not the one tearing us apart. remember that. i’m going to look after you. ’ and here he turns to ophelia. ‘ both of you. don’t make this any worse, phee. ’
and with that, he moves to leave. people have done worse things for a crown than betray a secret like this one, and ophelia will still have her life at the end of it. he’ll make sure of it. but he will have his crown.
@warblighted.
all throughout there is but one similar theme running through grier’s mind. we’re family. they are all they have left and look at them. tearing away at what little they have until there is absolutely nothing left to hold. it kills grier and for a moment she would rather have a knife twisted in her gut than to spend another moment watching this scene. but she endures. she has always endured.
where have the days gone? why has the maker frowned upon the couslands after all this time? what have they done? these are questions that have plagued grier since the day they were torn from their parents. her focus on her thoughts is pulled the moment she sees balfour look at her and speak those words. i’m going to look after you, and she believes it. she has no want for glory or the crown. has no want to be known through history for any of the things that she has done. all she wants to do is live her life. having her family at her side is all she would ever need.
“ ophelia i am begging you to listen to reason. ” the moment their brother walks away, grier steps up and tries to smooth things out. “ don’t make things worse. take what you have and be done with it. ” it may not seem fair in her younger sister’s eyes but it is the wisest plan in grier’s honest opinion. “ you will be known as a hero and you know this! you don’t need a crown to get the recognition and love you deserve. ”
@rosecrowncd
“She has me in her grip.”
meme. / accepting.
“ is that such a bad thing, bal? ” grier teases in a usual sisterly fashion while she nudges her brother. she has seen the way he looks at the witch in their group and, while he doesn’t sound too pleased after she’s brought it up, she tries to get him to see the good in it. “ let yourself have one good thing. ” she watches the path they walk on for a few moments, lost in her own thoughts. grier does not see the sense in putting it all off. then again, she had always been the soft hearted one yearning for romance in life. “ maker knows you deserve it. we both do. ”
“Everything’s about to change. Everything.” (ophelia)
meme. / accepting.
her sister’s words are ominous and it all but sends a chill up grier’s spine. now, she may not act like it half the time but she loves ophelia. she truly does. despite all the wicked things that she has done, this is still her sister and she is a part of what little she has left in the world. grier takes in a breath of air to steady herself.
it’s the look on ophelia’s face that has grier worried. she knows it well by now. she’s plotting something and that’s never good. for a moment, grier thinks of when they were both small and playing in the gardens back home. giggling and laughing for half the day before being dragged back inside before it grew dark. when was the last time they had gotten along so well? when did she lose that relationship with her dear sister?
“ ophelia. ” she tries not to sound stern but her worry gets the best of her. “ i don’t know what is going on through your head right now, but -- ” she takes a moment to set her hand on her sister’s shoulder and sits down beside her, close enough to whisper. “ -- you will always be my sister and i will always love you no matter what. ” her hand slides around to tug ophelia closer to her. for just this moment they can be those sisters from so long ago again. “ i know we can be cruel to each other and i know we say awful things... but you are still my family and i’m sorry for the way i’ve treated you. i just... want you to know that. ”
jamestown starter sentences
feel free to change pronouns, etc. from episode 7.
“I knew you wouldn’t leave us.” “Everything’s about to change. Everything.” “The law, as you know as well as I do, bends to the man with the riches.” “I’ve witnessed what is out there, and I know what it’s worth.” “Will we drink to your good fortune?” “Your throat must be as dry as a dead dog’s bones!” “You’re not worth the blood that runs in your veins.” “Will you have a drink with me, my true penny friend?” “I can’t bear that he is free to terrify me.” “We will see that he is locked up for his crimes.” “I didn’t kill him.” “You fear him. I can see it.” “Do you love your brother?” “The pain is mine to bear.” “Are you the Devil? Will you devour me?” “Your name will, before too long, be renowned.” “Perhaps you might be in need of wise council.” “I knew the day would come when it would be my turn.” “I’m asking for justice.” “Ain’t you going to at least question the man?” “Shame on your church-kneed, worm-livered Christian souls!” “He can come after me again any time he chooses to. How can I live here knowing that?” “I didn’t say I’d take on the task.” “Why would you say such a thing?” “You’re the only one here who can assist me.” “He must see that you’re not afraid of him.” “I’m sick with fear.” “I might’ve saved him, but my courage failed me.” “So this is about a woman?” “Do you want to kill your brother now?” “Perhaps you do not know yourself well enough.” “He lied to us.” “Why are you telling me this now?” “Good fellowship is free.” “When a man enters into the position of wealth, he enters into the world of politics.” “You need a protector.” “I’m a prisoner of my own deeds.” “I will say nothing of what I know if you abide by my instructions.” “Do it. I will not stop you.” “Look at me. Please. Look at my face.” “Fate has scarred me, so that I never forget the man I am.” “I don’t ask you for your forgiveness. I ask for your mercy.” “I’m a man who keeps my word.” “Any man that betrays me, thieves from me, lies to me… He’ll wish he never set eyes on my wretched face.” “You fobbing, mewling puke of a man!” “I am loyal to my friend! What are you faithful to?” “You’ll be charged and tried. How do you fancy the gallows?” “I’m so grateful to see you alive.” “I want to repay you. Will you let me?” “Didn’t I plead with you not to go?” “Have you any idea how much fear I’ve suffered?” “You promised you’d protect me, and still you left me here all alone!” “How do you expect me to trust you now?” “They will run and those same men will die.” “The more men who die, the more those who remain will see that they actually need me.” “I take no pleasure in any man’s hardship or ruin.” “You want to know what a man believes– it’s not what he says, not what he thinks. It’s what he does.” “There’s no life left for me here now.” “Isn’t it beautiful?” “There’s no place for us here anymore. The world’s turned.” “See how you prosper without a woman!” “Nature has made fools of better men than you and I.” “We must decide whose side we’re on.” “What’s that? It’s the sound of no woman about. Isn’t this the life?” “Sound the alarm!” “Not so proud are you now?” “You’ll always be my brother.” “She has me in her grip.”
stellaluminis:
Nimia takes her carefully, blue eyes shining with delight. ❝ Emilia. Beautiful name. She’s beautiful. Looks more like you than Zevran. ❞
“ i hear that often. ” she admits, inching closer to make sure emilia can still see her mother so she does not fuss. “ though, i believe the older she gets, the more she’ll grow into the features she’s gotten from her father. ”
me: grier is so soft and gentle and sweet grier whenever one of her siblings gets on her nerves: ALRIGHT FUCKER TIME TO THROW DOWN
