#;visage {feyre archeron}

[steelhecrt]

tag drop part 1

[inn0cencestrained]

tag dump 4

[therosehunter]

[cafegraces]

okay so ignore this one too then

✰*∙  ⎯  viviane ⎨ aesthetic ⎬

✰*∙  ⎯  viviane ⎨ visage ⎬

✰*∙  ⎯  viviane ⎨ ic interaction ⎬

✰*∙  ⎯  viviane ⎨ character study ⎬

✰*∙  ⎯  gwyneth berdara ⎨ aesthetic ⎬

✰*∙  ⎯  gwyneth berdara ⎨ visage ⎬

✰*∙  ⎯  gwyneth berdara ⎨ ic interaction ⎬

✰*∙  ⎯  gwyneth berdara ⎨ character study ⎬

✰*∙  ⎯  juniper andromeda ⎨ aesthetic ⎬

✰*∙  ⎯  juniper andromeda ⎨ visage ⎬

✰*∙  ⎯  juniper andromeda ⎨ ic interaction ⎬

✰*∙  ⎯  juniper andromeda ⎨ character study ⎬

✰*∙  ⎯  ember quinlan ⎨ aesthetic ⎬

✰*∙  ⎯  ember quinlan ⎨ visage ⎬

✰*∙  ⎯  ember quinlan ⎨ ic interaction ⎬

✰*∙  ⎯  ember quinlan ⎨ character study ⎬

✰*∙  ⎯  feyre archeron ⎨ aesthetic ⎬

✰*∙  ⎯  feyre archeron ⎨ visage ⎬

✰*∙  ⎯  feyre archeron ⎨ ic interaction ⎬

✰*∙  ⎯  feyre archeron ⎨ character study ⎬

[vclkyries]

this is a causal tag drop

[ofanswereddreams]

Despite the unfortunate circumstances that had befallen the Archerons, Suriel still thinks fondly of her former friend, Feyre's mother. And she finds Feyre Archeron to be a delightfully refreshing, kind and intelligent young woman who deserves to have her place in society. She wants to see the youngest Archeron well cared for, well situated and, ideally, in a love match.

Even before her charge arrived in London, Suriel was already sorting through her calling cards to compose a list of eligible bachelors. Perhaps young Tarquin, the newly minted Duke of Somerset? Or there was of course the Duke of Gloucester. Tamlin was widely regarded as the catch of the season. Suriel had not learned until after Feyre's arrival that Rhysand would actually be in town for this London Season, and she had not quite believed he would actually attend tonight's ball. As someone who has known him for his entire life, Suriel immediately vaulted the Duke of Powis to the top of her list of Feyre's potential suitors. Some intuition of hers told her that the two would suit each other beautifully.

So when he actually arrives, she hurries to find her young charge and leads her calmly across the room to make the introduction.... only for Feyre to interrupt the proceeding with an unorthodox question.

But, despite the heart palpitations Lady Suriel is currently experiencing, Rhysand remains unperturbed. A hint of amusement flickers in his eyes and twists the corner of his mouth in a brief smirk. He answers Feyre's question in a voice that purrs like a cat who's just caught the proverbial canary: "I do not. I happen to prefer the scenery at my estate in Wales. Although-" He pauses to give her a quick once-over. She is even lovelier up close. He's convinced he's never seen such a beautiful woman in the entirety of his thirty-three years. "-the London scene is much improved since your arrival, Miss….?"

Here, Suriel seizes upon the opportunity to set right the breach of decorum caused by Feyre's impromptu question. "Your Grace, may I present Miss Feyre Archeron, a longtime family friend and my guest for the Season." She gestures next from Feyre to Rhys. "Feyre, my dear, this is my godson Rhysand, the Duke of Powis."

"I am enchanted to meet you, Miss Archeron." Although the pretty phrasing is typical to the gentleman of the ton, there is a wicked gleam in his eye that indicates Rhys means every word. With one graceful motion, he lifts Feyre's gloved hand to his lips, his gaze holding hers the entire time. "I presume this is your first visit to London? I am certain I would not forget a visage as lovely as yours if I ever had the pleasure of meeting you before tonight." He lets his lips linger just a fraction of a second longer than necessary on the back of her silken glove before releasing her hand.

the harrowing feeling of being on the outside of society ate away in feyre’s empty stomach; it’s as if she could hear those around her screaming you don’t belong. despite growing up as part of the ton, when the archeron family lost their fortune, they lost their titles too – immediately they were cast aside, never to be regarded of value again. at least, by everyone but the lady suriel. she couldn’t recall her late mama and the lady of the house being close—but to be fair, she couldn’t recall much about her mother, since she was just as eager to ignore feyre as her father was. maybe that’s why, sometime in her childhood, suriel had taken a liking to her. small niceties, scattered across her youth, that the youngest archeron was happy to return.

perhaps it all lead her here. to this ball.

donning a pale blue dress that was considered the height of fashion, feyre had been idling around for some time now. there was nothing that would draw suitors her way, a sad truth she had tired to implore when she was being trained and fitted as lady suriel’s ward; she knew this fate would be hers, one of wandering in silence, fetching her own lemonade, and trying to find some entertainment in watching those twirling on the dancefloor. instead, her heart felt heavy with the social awkwardness. all she wanted to do was go back upstairs and continue learning how to read.

the serene music carried her footsteps towards a drinks table, plump lips pursed whilst she scanned and deliberated. it seemed within the second of her gloved hands touching the glass that a voice spoke behind her, to her. “if you’re not busy, feyre, i believe there’s someone you should meet.”

suriel’s sharp—yet somehow comforting—tone was unmistakable. turning abruptly, her blue eyes were wide with earnest, but the awkwardness that had ebbed inside of her thus far began to melt and mutate into something more insidious like fear. meet someone? talk to them? she supposed it was to be expected, but she only hoped they wouldn’t say anything about her family—then she really would be blacklisted for making some noble wear the drink she held.

“of course. i’ll put on my best fake smile just for you.” feyre joked with a saccharine grin; if they weren’t surrounded by so many others, she would’ve heard the little snort of laughter that she can sometimes evoke from her guardian. at least that’s what she tells herself as they move through the crowd and her innards grasp for confidence. gaze catches on the frame of a beautiful blonde woman in a daring red dress being escorted into the center of the dance space and something like envy stirs in feyre’s chest. i’m sure she never wants for company.

her attention turns back when she realizes suriel has stopped walking. time shudders, dripping like molasses, as feyre’s blue eyes meet with striking violet. she can’t hide the shock that registers on her expression—this was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. and she’s sure she’s never seen him before.

“do you come to london often?” feyre asks. abrupt, rude even. her mama would be turning in her grave at the indecency. lady suriel hadn’t even had the chance for introductions before the young debutante spoke, which she’d feel shame for later; in this moment, all training of propriety had been forgotten, because her mind was entirely consumed by the man in front of her.

[tofeelthecold]

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[velarls]

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[enthrclled]

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[legends-and-savages]

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