rovnofs

[rovnofs]

xxsariayoung:

“No – wait, Roan – w-why would we go talk in private w-when… w-when we need to tell them – !” Her mind was working faster than she could comprehend it. The only vampire she really knew was Joel, with his sweet smile and the way he sometimes smelled of dusty books. She hadn’t ever dealt with a dangerous kind – he would never hurt her, yet she’d always been told his kind didn’t like her’s. They were natural enemies, pitted against each other since the beginning of time. And if they were sneaking in and out of the castle and changing memories – and after the wedding travesty – they needed to go straight to the rest of the guard.

She looked frantically over her shoulder one last time at the milling werewolves. Had any of them woken up with a similar bite on their shoulder, not knowing where they’d been? Saria wanted nothing more to turn around and keep trying to tell Roan to tell them straight away, but something in his tone felt strange. Why wasn’t he has panicked as she was?

Reluctantly she let her mentor steer her away from the crowd and into the shade of the building. The collar of her dress still hung low, and every now and then, it throbbed dully. It wasn’t painful. It was more… like a different feeling all together, yet she couldn’t find the words to describe it.

“What did… what did you mean by n-no? What else could it be?” Her heart was still beating hummingbird fast. “Oh… what if someone else is hurt? We need to go help, and tell, o-or look!”She thought he’d know what to do. Roan always had thee answers. He was kind, and smart. Responsible and willing to take care of other people – and so she looked up at him, praying he might know what the mark was, and maybe… maybe even tell her she was going to be alright.

As he lead her out of the gate and into the shadow of the barracks, Roan tried to kick his brain into gear so that he could give Saria a coherent explanation for the new bite mark on her shoulder. After all, there was nothing else that bite could be. He’d seen what bites from vampires looked like on werewolf skin—their unique venom left ugly red scars that would never fully fade, just eventually dull into dark scars that were hard to look at. The bite of a vampire and the bite of another werewolf were as different as night and day. But not only had Saria never seen a real vampire bite scar, she apparently had never seen the kind she now possessed. It made sense that the inexperienced omega was in a panic, but Roan wouldn’t be able to help her if he couldn’t explain in cohesive sentences.

He let her speak, nervous energy practically vibrating off of her, until to a stop under the eaves. “Okay, sunflower, steady on.” Roan patted her hair gently, trying to soothe her the same way he soothed his sister or his brother when they got worked up. “No one else is hurt, and I promise, if there was a vampire runnin’ ‘round biting people, we’d all know. You haven’t been attacked. ‘Kay?” He looked into her eyes, searching for a sign that she was processing what he was saying, that his words and his tone were helping her settle down. This was a big moment for a werewolf, and it hurt his heart that she didn’t have anyone else in her life to help walk her through it. But it was also a kind of honor to be the first person she’d come to, and to be the one to help her through this.

“Right, so, first things first, love,” he went on, his hand moving from her hair to her other shoulder, the one not newly marked. It was more of an instinct, his need to avoid touching the pale scar, but even as he thought about it, he knew why he couldn’t bring himself to touch it. He didn’t make it, obviously, so he had no right to do so. “Has anyone told you about True Bonds?”

[rovnofs]

Roan was freshly out of a bath after a grueling day of training new recruits, drilling the off-duty guards, and keeping up with Arielle’s secret training regimen. Of all his various duties, the latter was the hardest for him. In a way, teaching the princess combat techniques had given him a new appreciation for his usual work. He’d found his daily routing to be much less tiresome and more enjoyable by far ever since they’d begun. Perhaps it was because he had the clandestine training sessions to look forward to after, or perhaps it was that he found his normal duties so much easier. After all, it was no mean feat to train a human as small and important as Arielle how to fight without leaving any visible marks of their training on her. More impressive still was her dedication to these lessons. She had taken to hand-to-hand combat well, and they now used brief weaponless sparring sessions as a warm up. She was learning her way around blades (dulled training ones, of course) at a quick pace. It was encouraging.

 He was dressed in a simple shirt and pants and just about ready to settle in for the evening—maybe read a little, maybe just fall asleep early—when there was a knock at his door. By the sound and tone of the voice that accompanied it, Roan was left to wonder what could be bringing Matthieu to his door. He made his way to the door and opened it, offering the princess’s bodyguard a confused smile. “Sir Greyheart, this is an unexpected pleasure. What can I do for you?”

Matthieu was … suspicious. He had been working as Arielle’s bodyguard for several months now and in that time he had all but memorized her daily routine, from dance practice to princess lessons to the amount of time she dedicated to volunteering at the local soup kitchen and gallivanting with the woodland creatures in the forest, he had it down solid. She wasn’t allowed to see Christian for the time being—and lord, did she not ever let anyone forget about it—and so he hadn’t picked up on the alpha’s scent lingering on her in more than a week, but there was one in particular that had only gotten stronger. Roan. There had been countless nights, now, where the young princess had returned to her chambers flushed, sweaty, and out of breath—according to her, she had taken up a second round of dance practice in the evening, but then why the hell was the Captain of the Guard’s scent hanging off of her like a second skin? Arielle was strawberries, fresh cream, and vanilla—Roan smelled like a combination of weapon polish and the woods. Something was going on, and Matthieu didn’t approve of it in the slightest.

“Captain?” Matthieu’s voice came out clipped as he knocked on the door to Roan’s suite in the castle, he respected the other wolf, of course, he had been trained by him upon being made a knight so many years ago, but as Arielle’s bodyguard…he had a job to do, and if the other alpha was making it a habit of bedding the princess, then there was definitely a discussion to be had. “Are you around?”

@rovnof

[rovnofs]

It costs $0.00 to be a decent person.

(via bl-ossomed)

[rovnofs]

whose your hall pass?

“I don’t think that really applies to me, mate. Not like I’m in any kind of relationship at the moment.”

[rovnofs]

🍏👻

For something they secretly wish didn’t exist

"My heart.”

For something that scares or disturbs them, but they refuse to tell anyone

"I find rats incredibly disturbing. I’m also scared of the possibility that I don’t have a True Bond. Both are things I’ve never told anyone.”

[rovnofs]

🖤

For something they secretly wish they could do with your muse

"Sorry, mate, but my only answer is arrest her for crimes against the crown. Namely piracy.”

[rovnofs]

What is going on between you, Serafina, and Ester?

“Yer guess is as good as mine. Ester’s been out of my life for so long, I didn’t ever think I’d see her again. So what she’s doing here now after all this time...? And the moment she saw me, she turned tail and ran. So I have no clue what’s happening there. As for Serafina, we were together once, and she decided she was done with me. Haven’t seen her since. As usual, women seem to universally agree that I’m not worth their time.”

[rovnofs]

Dear lord, what was going on with this week? Roan had never seen the Royal Guard in such a state of disarray. It made sense, given they had all somehow managed to black out and miss three whole days, which in itself was extremely concerning. Roan wasn’t much for going out drinking, not since he’d become Captain of the Guard, but today he bloody well needed a drink and he wasn’t going to get one sitting around his quarters. Besides, it would do him good to get out and see Acrine as a common man every now and then. With a sigh, Roan hauled himself down into the city proper, feet beating a path to a tavern he’d liked when he was younger and had more free time. Roan plopped himself onto a stool at the bar and sat in silence for a while, staring into space as his mind tried to decide if it should ponder the week’s events or go blank and take a rest. But it was saved this decision by a voice from beside him, coming from the youthful fellow who’d just sat down. “Oh, they do,” he answered, smiling tiredly at the man. “Old Ned just can’t run ‘round as fast as he used to. Or remember things like he used to. Such as serving people right away. Hang on a tick... Hey Ned! Come on, mate, we’re parched down here,” he called out to the wizened barmen a few feet away, then turned back to his new drinking companion. “What’s yer poison, friend? Their beer’s good, but their whiskey’s better.”

&&.@rovnof

Maybe it was due to how often his father had taken him and Ester to Acrine as kids that he always found himself walking the cobblestone streets in no time. While the seasonal courts were beautiful and contained everything that he had ever needed, it was here that still drew the most curiosity out of him. His fascination for human stuff hadn’t ever faded, in fact it was probably due to his years of piracy that had continuously piqued his interests in it. Now that the Renegade was docked for quite a while, he found himself there more and more everyday just to marvel at everything. He stepped into a favored tavern, one where some of his crew mates frequented on occasion, but he learned that the majority didn’t venture this far out to the capital and it made it the perfect time for him to escape. It wasn’t as if he hated being around them, it was just the members of the other ships in Alexander’s fleet that he didn’t care for. Here though, he could be himself (as much as he could wearing a glamor that concealed his ears and his wings so he could blend in easier). There was only one space open at the bar and he decided to take it before anyone else could. He waited for a few minutes for service before he turned to the man next to him. “You wouldn’t happen to know if they actually serve beer here or are those barrels are just for show?” a snide remark, but one that felt warranted considering the man sitting next to him didn’t have a drink in front of him either.

[rovnofs]

Drills that morning were........ well, they were not going great. Everyone was drowsy and befuddled, plenty of recruits and guards alike had not shown up at all, and even Roan was struggling. Why, he couldn’t say. It wasn’t as though he’d been overworking himself over the last few days. Okay, well, he had, but he’d forced himself to slow down a bit so he shouldn’t be finding it this difficult to get his stance right. Even in his current state of sluggishness, he was doing better than most of the guard under his watch today. All around him, wolves were staring off into space, dropping their practice swords and shields, forgetting such basic things as how to walk in a straight line without falling over. It was ridiculous. What, had they all gone out on a bender the night before?

“A’right, that’s it!” Roan barked, frustration cutting through his own fatigue and causing the guards around him to jump in surprise. “I dunno what the hell is wrong with you all, but yer no good to anyone in this state. Yer all on armory duty today—and tomorrow if you keep cryin’ about it!” he added as more than one wolf raised their voice in protest. “Go, shoo, get yer heads on straight. Maybe the polish fumes’ll help wake you up. GET!” The guards scurried away, unused to their Captain snarling at them in such a manner. Roan felt a flush of guilt creep through him, but he merely shook his head to rid himself of it. It was his job to keep the Royal Guard running smoothly, and sometimes that meant spooking the wolves under him into trying a little harder.

He chucked his sword to the ground in a huff and was about to stomp off to the water pitchers when a panicked voice reached him from the fence. “Saria?” Roan turned and saw the handmaiden rushing around to the gate, terror in her eyes as she called for him. Worry surged through him, and he changed course to meet her. She skidded to a halt inches from him, and he just about thought she was going to say something had happened to the princess. Oh god, what could have happened to Arielle? But... no, she was tugging down her collar, revealing a pearlescent bite mark on her otherwise unblemished skin. Roan didn’t say anything for a moment, just blinked at the marks and at Saria. “Saria... no, no. Hold on a moment.” The poor girl was panicking in a way he hadn’t seen since the first time they met. He needed her to calm down. “Saria love, breathe fer me, a’right? Deep breaths now, that’s it.” He put both hands on her shoulders, avoiding touching the marking, and started leading her back through the gate and towards the barracks. At least there, they could talk in private, away from the curious wolves around them. “Come on, darlin’, let’s go talk away from these nosy nitwits, ey?”

@rovnof

Saria had frozen in front of the mirror, her crystal blue eyes going wide. Her nightgown was a size too big. It had slipped over her shoulder, revealing the freckled span of skin and… and what? She reached over with her fingers, brushing across the silver-pink scars that had formed at the base of her neck. When she did so, a spark of electricity seemed to jolt through her body. They were in an arc, and upon further inspection, she realized with a start that it was a bite mark. Given the fact that she didn’t have a scarred bite mark the evening before, a wave of confusion slammed into her chest and took the air right out of her lungs. Werewolves rarely got scars – they had advanced healing, and she couldn’t for the life of her remember where she might have… how could she not remember being bitten?

Peeling out of her room, Saria hitched her nightgown so that she wouldn’t slip. Bare feet slapped against the marble floors until she was throwing her body against the fence of the training grounds, looking frantically for Roan. He would know – he always had the answers. 

“R-roan!” She yelled, her voice cracking and her skin flushed in the cool morning air. She lifted her arm high to wave him down. She pushed away from the fence, circling around to the entrance and quickly rushing up to him and yanking down the collar of her nightgown once more. “I-I woke up with this, and I d-don’t know what happened – I can’t remember – Roan, what if I was bitten by a v-vampire?! Can’t they make your memories go away? If they’re sneaking inside the castle, we have to – w-we have to warn people.”

[rovnofs]

I have this strange feeling that I’m not myself anymore. It’s hard to put into words, but I guess it’s like I was fast asleep, and someone came, disassembled me, and hurriedly put me back together again. That sort of feeling.

Haruki Murakami, Sputnik Sweetheart (via

infpisme

)

[rovnofs]

Hi! I was interested in applying for Roan’s sister :)

[[ Hi there! That’s exciting to hear. Would you be able to come chat with me off anon? I’d love to discuss this more with you that way. ^^ ]]

[rovnofs]

☽ ROAN Ó FAOLÁIN ☾ — Task #3: Mischief Managed

WAND

Yew “Yew wands are among the rarer kinds, and their ideal matches are likewise unusual, and occasionally notorious. The wand of yew is reputed to endow its possessor with the power of life and death, which might, of course, be said of all wands; and yet yew retains a particularly dark and fearsome reputation in the spheres of duelling and all curses. However, it is untrue to say (as those unlearned in wandlore often do) that those who use yew wands are more likely to be attracted to the Dark Arts than another. The witch or wizard best suited to a yew wand might equally prove a fierce protector of others. Wands hewn from these most long-lived trees have been found in the possession of heroes quite as often as of villains. Where wizards have been buried with wands of yew, the wand generally sprouts into a tree guarding the dead owner’s grave. What is certain, in my experience, is that the yew wand never chooses either a mediocre or a timid owner.”

Phoenix Feather “This is the rarest core type. Phoenix feathers are capable of the greatest range of magic, though they may take longer than either unicorn or dragon cores to reveal this. They show the most initiative, sometimes acting of their own accord, a quality that many witches and wizards dislike. Phoenix feather wands are always the pickiest when it comes to potential owners, for the creature from which they are taken is one of the most independent and detached in the world. These wands are the hardest to tame and to personalise, and their allegiance is usually hard won.”

13 in. Long “Wands which length is between 12.5 and 14 inches are larger than average, yet not rare to be seen. Wizards and witches who own commonly big wands usually perform louder and brighter spells than others, for their magic style and personality is of dramatic inclination, and they are moved by emotions on most cases. These wands work well for selfless owners, whose magic is preferably directed to serving others.”

Supple Flexibility “The wands characterized as brittle, quite or fairly bendy, quite or fairly flexible, pliant, supple, and whippy, are considered ‘flexible wands’. These usually fall in the hands of owners who like to progress quickly in life and face changes without hesitation. … The wizards and witches best suited for supple and whippy wands are adaptive in a more cautious manner, and even if the supple wand and its owner may take a little longer to learn from each other, their results are usually the most reliable.”

HOGWARTS HOUSE

Gryffindor — brave, courageous, chivalrous, daring, bold

Roan is truly a paragon of Gryffindor’s virtues. Courageous and selfless to a fault, he will never hesitate to use himself as a shield for others. This holds true for virtually any situation. Physically, he is a warrior to the core, a defender of his king and his people who will happily place himself in danger if it means others are safe. Emotionally, he is always ready to take the brunt of others’ emotional outbursts so that they can feel better, or so that someone else will be protected from them. Though it doesn’t come to the forefront often because of his preference for pacifistic conflict resolution, Roan is surprisingly quick-tempered when angered or riled. He won’t hesitate to go after someone who insults or harms those he loves and considers under his protection, and will do so with a ferocity befitting his werewolf nature. Roan’s biggest fault is typical of nobler Gryffindors: he is perhaps too willing to run headfirst into peril if it will mean those he loves are safe, and rarely thinks about his own well-being if he believes someone else’s need is greater.

PATRONUS

Irish Wolfhound

“A mix of power, swiftness, gentleness, and reliability are the defining traits of the massive Irish Wolfhound. Those who cast this Patronus are seen as an imposing force but really are absolute sweethearts. Nevertheless, the Irish Wolfhound can be extremely aggressive when the need arises, particularly when protecting its loved ones. There is no doubt that loyalty is among the most obvious traits of the Irish Wolfhound. Of course, Sirius Black (Padfoot) would agree!”

Could there possibly be a more fitting animal for Roan’s Patronus? Extremely large and seemingly a little rough around the edges, Irish Wolfhounds are in fact reserved and intelligent creatures, quiet and easy-going, and known for their loyalty and devotion to their families. They were originally bred as wolf hunting dogs, and thus when provoked can be incredibly ferocious, particularly if their pack or family are in danger. But despite their imposing demeanor, they are gentle and sweet and beloved for the close bonds they form with others.

OTHER

Ilvermorny House — Pukwudgie “Pukwudgies are defined by their passions and desires, by how they feel, and by whom they love. They form deep connections, wholly commit themselves to everything they do, and defend their people and passions with ferocity. Pukwudgies are caregivers, protectors, and loyal friends. They will use all their talents, values, and potential to pursue their passions and protect the ones they love.”

Boggart — Failure to Protect His Loved Ones Roan cares so deeply about the people close to him, and those under his care, that the thought of losing any of them through a failing on his part is utterly horrifying. Just losing the omega Kieran at the wedding was torture for him; losing his mother or one of his siblings, losing his king or his princess, losing his friends... it’s unthinkable. Thus Roan’s boggart would take the shape of his loved ones’ and his charges’ dead bodies, the last expressions on their faces shock and accusation towards him for failing to protect them.

[rovnofs]

He’d wolfed down more food this morning than he had in the whole month since the wedding. And yet no matter how many pancakes or cups of coffee or bowls of fruit he ate, a gnawing hunger still tore at Roan’s stomach, made worse by a thirst that no amount of water could cure. He was clearly sick. He’d been pushing himself too hard and had caught something horrible. Fuck, he... he needed to find a doctor, quickly. The captain barreled from his quarters with the coordination of a drunken bear, his head spinning as the hunger twisted his gut violently. His mouth was aching, too, for some reason—another symptom no doubt. There was a figure ahead of him, and he held a hand out to them to catch their attention, rasping, “’Scuse me, I need.... I need a doctor.”

[rovnofs]

Do you think Arielle will be easy to train in self defense?

“I think so. If nothing else, I think determination will make her more than willing to put the effort in. Try her hardest, you know. And that’s often a bigger barrier to someone learning than anything else. A lot of people think you have to have a natural talent at fighting, but that’s a load of shite. Dedication makes all the difference. And Arielle has dedication by the boat-load. I’ll have to figure out a sort of lesson plan for her, of course, given that she’s behind where most of my new recruits are when they start. But I’m sure she’ll pick it up quick enough.”

@ariellefleur

[rovnofs]

would you take ester back if she asked?

“I….” He pauses a long while, brow furrowed in thought. “I don’t know. I have no idea why she would want to, given that she’s the one who decided I wasn’t right for her. I suppose I might say yes on instinct, spur of the moment-like. I really loved her, you know. She was everything to me once. Now, though, I have much else I have to live for, and I just don’t know if I’m… if I’m good enough for anyone. If I had a chance to think rationally… we’d have to sit down and have a long talk first before I could make a choice. I wish to believe she’s the same good person I fell for years ago, but time changes people, even the fae. I know it’s changed me.”

@cstcrt

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What is your history with Saria and Arielle?

“I’ve served the Valentina family for years, first as a simple guard, and now as the commander of the guard. I’ve known Arielle since she was small, and whenever I was assigned to watch her and her family personally, it was a rare treat that I enjoyed immensely. I’m honored that her family decided I was worthy of spending more time with her, even when she was assigned a personal bodyguard. And now that she’s grown into a princess we can all be proud of, I’m more honored than ever to have her trust. She’s a little like a sister, in a way, not that I would ever say that to her or anyone else. But I think of her in the same way I think of my own sister Kelly.

“Saria is a little more involved. We first met… well, on a full moon. And… you know, we, uh…” He coughs. “Well, we did what alphas and omegas do on the full moon. It was not a great experience for her, upon waking up, because she was very very new to everything that being a werewolf entails. I felt horrible that she reacted so badly, and I wanted to make sure she was alright after that. We’ve never slept together since; she has also come to be something like a little sister and that would feel wrong in so many ways. I just want to protect her and help her find her place with our people. She doesn’t need to be afraid of what she is. I just want her to be happy.”

@ariellefleur @xxsariayoung

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do you hate Mia for lashing out on you?

“Never. It was my fault the Kieran died. I could have done more to protect him, but I didn’t. I know she’s sorry, but people in pain are more honest than we want to give them credit for. And she was right to hold me accountable. I only hope that someday I can earn her forgiveness. Really earn it.”