#Arvanna Stone

[crimsoncompendium]

Valder,

I’m writing to you knowing full well you might just tear this letter up the second you realize who it’s from. I wouldn’t blame you. But the chance you might read this, small as it might be, keeps my pen moving.

It seems so pathetic and useless to tell you I’m sorry. I am. I’ve never been more sorry, more ashamed of myself. I can’t imagine the silences you’ve had to endure. Valder, I know I should have been there. Valder, I love you. In spite of the way things have been and in spite of how I’ve acted—failed to act—I love you.

If you’re wondering why I’ve been gone so long, the answer is my head. I convinced myself that you and Tavares were far better off without my shadow hanging around your shoulders. I...know that proved to be...blatantly untrue for our baby. I wonder what you think about it.

There are so many fucking things I should say to you, but I just want to know whether I can come home. Can we fix this? Can I touch you again, look at you again, smell you again? Hear your voice? I know I don’t deserve any of that. Tell me no if that’s the answer. I just need to know.

I’m pregnant. I’m having a little boy in two months. His name will be Mason. He will never fill the empty place where Tavares should be, where he isn’t because I failed him. I know. But I wanted to ask whether you want to try again. If you want to be a father again. I can’t tell you how heartsick I am to imagine you putting your hands on my belly and feeling my son kick. He can be our son, if you want him, or me.

There’s so much I want to talk about, Valder. There’s always been silence between us, always some kind of mystery, but I want to know everything now. I want you to tell me everything. I just want to be close to you again. I love you. I’ve loved you for so long. I’m sorry if I’ve thrown all those years away.

—R

@valderamand​ @disgruntleddan​

[valderamand]

Arvanna spent much of her time working, between the Accord and her growing cat business. Whenever she did return home to Valder after several days of absence, he never quite asked her of her work. Instead, he offered her a drink and time to escape, if she desired. If not, and she wished to spend time alone, he simply retreated to his study, the door always open. 

Knowing of her return in advance, he awaited her, prepared in a different manner tonight. Valder never considered himself adept at this. Perhaps he wasn’t. Really, it may be obvious it’s his first time attempting something like this properly. 

The handsome suit he donned, a suit now tailored to fit him well and mended to do away with any gashes or tears, may tug on some of Arvanna’s memories when she’d walk through that door to lay her eyes upon him. He looked as uncomfortable as ever in it though, as always when it came to such things.

He’d strewn candles about the room and set the fireplace ablaze, relaxing in their warmth and glow atop the legion of cushions, pelts, and other accessories that converged upon their low table. 

An unopened bottle of wine sat in a bucket, two glasses flanking it. Next to them, a dainty, lone red rose protruded from a crystal vase. It appears bent at the midsection, a smear of blood stained on the stalk. Apparently someone forgot about the thorns. 

No proper food of any sort lay in sight. However, if Arvanna ever dared to look in their kitchen bin during the course of the next few days, she’d find half a dozen exploded pastries, dark chocolate innards leaking from their shells. Valder wasn’t a poor chef by any means. But his knowledge of thick, hearty stews and grilled slabs of juicy, red meat didn’t quite fit the bill on this apparent first attempt for baking. Instead, some obviously store bought macaroons sat beside the wine, in the shadow of the rose that flickered over the table, the fluttering fire and candles making its thorny stalk bend this way and that in an illusionary dance. 

On top of it all, he cradled a lute, strumming the same melancholy yet sweet tune over and over, trying his best to master it before she arrived.

He thought the whole scene may appear a tad ridiculous to Arvanna. Valder wouldn’t blame her if she broke out into laughter at him attempting this. He did, in truth, look a little confused even as he sat alone, wondering if he’d missed anything, or if any of it was silly or overdone. But if she did laugh, what did it matter? It’d likely make her day either way. To him, that’s what mattered. 

[zarybear]

Somewhere over the rainbow...

It was partway through the season of the Phoenix... the air was warm.. it was bright outside. Yet still before noon. The tenth bell had rung out not long ago. Zarek felt tired, he hadn't slept at all last night. Still in his day off attire, a simple sleeveless shirt, and some leather britches. The difficult premature delivery had happened in the Stone household. Hailen had, had a hard time with the delivery, there were some complications during which forced the Doctor to make a drastic decision...Eventually the Doctor left once things settled down.

Which left Zarek. He didn’t know what to think, what to do.. Once again he was alone, though this time with this tiny creature in his hand. So small, and fragile. She slumbered soundly in his hand. Cleaned up, and dressed in this itty bitty yellow onsie that even had cute little feeties too. She fit perfectly in one hand! Zarek watched her as she inched and squirmed ever so slightly a midst her slumber.

He sucked in a deep breath, the warmth from the sun hitting the back of his neck as he leaned against the wall with the window on it. The window left open partly to let fresh air into the home, the sounds of the birds chirping and peeping, singing merrily in the warm spring air, lingered in also. He chuckled dryly and shook his head back and forth, almost unbelieving in this single moment. Zar's gaze lingered on the child.. focused, intently upon the one resting in his hands. A slight hint of recognition dawned on him, she looked so familiar.. yet different. He thought back, finding some slight similarities of what he thought could have been Hailen, some of himself even. But that wasn't it, there was something else about the Girl.

“I’m.. so.. So sorry Hailen.. I.. I’m sorry for having failed you.” He said sadly, looking down at the small child in his hand. A product of himself and the Woman, this child’s Mother, whom she’d never get the chance to meet. He closed his eyes, letting out a long heavy sigh. He felt himself shrink into his seat and frown deeply. Eventually though, he opened his eyes to look down upon the child in his hands.

It didn't take long, but it dawned on him suddenly. This child, this precious small bundle of life reminded him of his Sister. Zarek sighed, mixed emotions flooded his head and looked up toward the ceiling Studying the grain, and grooves of the wood. “Arvanna..” He said softly, as if murmuring a prayer. He looked past ceiling now, as if toward the skies, letting out a longing sigh. Zarek found himself blinking quickly, trying to stop the moisture building in his eyes, but soon tears started to well up. He couldn't help it, and they began flowing freely. He sniffled and pressed his eyes together tightly.

After a moment Zarek angled his head back down and kissed the girls forehead, a little whimper puckered out of her, as the baby was disturbed. “Arvanna..” Zar said, now to the girl in his hands. “That's what we will call you.. Arvanna Cassandra Stone.” He let out a quivering smile. Zar felt like his body was convulsing. He carried his daughter over toward the nearest chair and sank into it The arm-chair was one of those old comfortable pieces of furniture, one you could sink into, sleep for a few hours and pop back up five times better than before. He relaxed into the seat, placing the girl against his chest. Zarek then sighed heavily, a sudden longing to see his Sister once more came over him and he found himself frowning. His light brown gaze focused down on Arvanna. “She'd be so excited to meet you..they both would.” he said to her, fully realizing she likely didn't understand it. Tears still slowly continued to trickle down his cheeks.

The tears, left little trails down his face, and finally were dripping off the edges of his face.. He was doing his best not to just break down and sob across the child in his hands. “Gods and she'd probably punch me for naming you after her.. or cry.. or something.. who the hell knows..” He continued to shake his head back and forth. Zarek licked his lips a few times, his mouth felt dry, as if he'd been trying to eat a thousand cotton balls for some reason. “But, Ar probably end up laughing and just calling me a dork.” Zarek admitted, continuing to watch the tiny infant in his hands. “And, they both would love every bit of you.. just as I do.” he spoke softly, not wanting to wake her. He glanced away for a moment. “Watch over her and guide her Hailen...Ar... for when I can't...” He murmured. Letting his hand run gently down the child's back. Zar closed his eyes, and slowly.. sleep took over him.

[devlomas]

The hand is shaky and ugly and ill practiced - like a first grader.

Dear Ar [The line is scratched out in heavy, angry ink] A, Triyn to practisce my rightwritign. Didnt know wahat to write. I miss [The two words are heavily scratched out, and followed by some doodles of a stick figure getting shot by a cannon.]

[allainfiraen]

A compass to show you the path.

Did your compass lead you to this? Or did you give me your direction, and lose your way in so doing? I am sorry, Arvanna. I am sorry you are gone, and I hope you know that you will be missed. You were Stone - a pillar to hold up all those around you. I still carry your compass, and I will continue to do so. The strength you have shown me, the strength you have shown all the Vanguard, it will not be forgotten. You've helped me remember how to stand, and I am sorry I never got to tell you.

You will be missed.

[tired-stag]

I'm taking my quaggan cross stitch and getting the fuck out of here.

Arvanna Stone (Thug life Arv)

[scholarlyfox]

Looks like you're with us now little one! Me and Arvanna are going to take good care of you. Wish I had this much room at my place for my own pen!

[elizavetaolya]

~*~Vanguard girls night out~*~

Even though it's the morning.

[thestonelioness]

The sun is hours from peaking over the mountains in the east. Most of Ebonhawke is asleep, save for the night watch and a particular sergeant.

Sleep was hard to come by most accounts, I was hardly much of an exception. My sleeplessness tonight however was more of a teasing nature.

She had been impressed with how Lomas had been fitting in with the vanguard despite his rough start.  The thought that Van was also looking after him alleviated some worry. Arvanna seems to have taken a liking to him as well.

Deveral reminded her of better days. Days when she was still a page running menial errands for Captain Delphine. Elise had always made it a point to look after her, and anyone under her command.

When I was still in the 5th Regiment, I did much the same. I remember all the faces, the knocks on the door in the middle of the night to have a private talk, or sneaking rations from the stockroom.

Losing them all to the war, was one of the hardest things to stomach, yet I'm here again writing the same letters, making the same sandwiches, knocking on the same doors.

What for? I ask myself. I shake off the thought.

One day he'll have a team of his own, he'll see what battles make you question who and what you value.

One day he'll be writing these letters, making these sandwiches, and knocking on the same doors.

The teasing from the other day was fairly amusing, Lomas looked utterly mortified, so I expect he wasn't as tidy with the home he was given, as he was with his bunk.

I click my tongue at the thought as I walk down the street. I can see the home from here, the only one with the dimn flicker of lights still on within. Poor thing is probably cleaning still. His eagerness to impress her was endearing, she almost felt bad for her part in the matter.

I arrived at the door, quietly putting my ear to it, hearing the telltale string of curses and sounds of clattering dishes and pots. I'll make this quick.

A small pot, and kettle are set down on the doormat still hot. One full of cocoa, and the other some leftover stew. One envelope tucked firmly between the two.

Items all set, I look at the door and wind up my arm before pounding violently against it to get his attention. I hear more curses, and scrambling. Stifling my urge to laugh, I leave the door, and carry on down the street before he has a chance to open it.

--

Inside the envelope is a short note, and a familiar key.

"Get some sleep Lomas. You didn't have to clean but you did. Stew and cocoa should still be hot and should help you fall asleep. You can keep the key, I'm sure you'll invite people over when you're ready.

-Meilong"

[crimsoncompendium]

Little one,

I only just learned about you a few weeks ago, but already I feel so much and want to tell you everything. I was terrified when the doctor told me you’re coming. I thought there was no way I could raise a child, but I hope I’m wrong because I love you more than I can say, and above all I want to protect you and keep you safe.

I don’t know what your first name will be yet, but your last will be Sunjata. You will be born in Elona. I want you to know where else you come from, so I’ll share what little I know about our family’s history.

I don’t know who your great grandfather was, but your great grandmother’s name was Subira Sunjata. She fled from Kourna with the Order of Whispers after Palawa Joko rose to power. Her daughter, my mother, was named Mirembe. She grew up in Ebonhawke and married another Elonian whose lineage is unknown, Jackal Stone. Mirembe and he had myself and your uncle Zarek, and were taken to prison in Kryta when we were very young. Zarek and I were sent to Queen’s Heart Orphanage in Divinity’s Reach where I was adopted by two Ascalonians, Linda and Thomas Lewis, who brought me back to Ebonhawke. Zarek left the orphanage and was homeless until he met his foster father, Walter, a norn. We didn’t meet again for a long time. When we did I was a promising young soldier of the Ebon Vanguard and he, even without knowing that, joined.

Family is more than blood. You will have fathers, mothers, brothers, and sisters who do not share your blood. These people mean no less than those who do.

Zarek adopted his first child, your cousin Luke, after Luke’s mother was killed. Then he had your younger cousin who shares my name, Arvanna Stone. A sylvari and a dear friend to me, Fiatri, has taken up motherhood of them.

As I write this you have two fathers. Atlas Oak has blue eyes and callused hands, and in spite of his outstanding talent for vulgarity he’s impossibly kind and a good, gentle man who loves us both. He’s the reason I lived long enough to get pregnant with you. Kabou Dabi is young and foolish as everyone is at this age, but he too is a good man. His eyes make me weak and his voice could talk me to sleep. He’s suffered much and been wronged at every turn, yet he hasn’t let that ruin his optimism.

Now that I’ve settled into the idea of having and raising a child I can’t overstate how happy and excited I am to grow you within me and then hold you in my arms when you’re finally here. I wonder what your hair will look like. Will you have any when you’re born? Will you look more like me, or your biological father? I can’t wait to touch your little toes and fingers and watch you sleep. You’re no more than a tiny lump in my belly, but already you’re the most precious, sacred thing I’ve ever known.

You won’t have a run-of-the-mill childhood, but I can promise you you will be loved. You will be loved fiercely and guarded from as much danger and hardship as I and your fathers can. You will see and know amazing things. I will teach you humility, and I will show you the worth of a day’s labor and a copper coin. I will tell you about the Gods that I worship and also what I know of other faiths. I will allow you to decide for yourself what, if anything, to believe. If you choose to believe nothing I won’t love you any less—and that applies to every aspect of your life. There is nothing you could ever do to lessen my love for you.

My life has been troubled at times and there were several situations in which I could have made better choices. I’ve been a coward and sometimes a liar. I want you to know that I’m far from perfect, but I’m going to live for you, little one. All of my thoughts now have you in them, and all my decisions are toward your betterment.

One of the hardest things I’ve had to learn is to forgive, yet to grow and protect myself after I’ve been hurt (or hurt myself). Forgiving the snake that bit you is not the same as giving it a second chance. Forgive for your sake; grudges will rot you from the inside out. Still, guard yourself as a form of self-respect. When you respect yourself, you don’t suffer others to disrespect you.

I want you to know as well that there is nothing you can’t tell me. I could never judge you, baby. If anything your actions will be a reflection of how I’ve raised you, making it hypocritical of me to think poorly of you (which I could never do). I guarantee you you will make mistakes and errors in judgment and for those things I will always forgive you. You’re fallible, just like everyone you’ll ever meet.

If you’re anything like me the moment you know what your wings are for you’ll be gone. Know that you may always come home, no matter what may have happened or what you’ve done or said. I don’t care. As long as my body is able I’ll protect you, and as long as my mind is sound I’ll guide you. I mean this: There is nothing you can do to make me stop loving you. I’ll always want you to come home. No matter what. I love you.

While there’s nowhere you can go where my thoughts and my love won’t be with you, there will be times when you’ll have to rely solely on yourself. Be prepared as best as you can. Love your friends, love your family, but learn to be alone and to be your own best friend. I promise you this will enrich your life.

I pray to the Gods I’ll have decades to tell you more, little one. Dwayna knows I have so much more to say than I can put on paper.

Love,

Your mother

[valderamand]

Clack.  Clack.  Clack.  Valder paced through the house endlessly.  If Arvanna's parents, who lived next door, had ever bothered to look in they would see his figure slink past a window, only to reappear in the other direction three minutes later.  

His hands, large and rough in their nature, were wrung behind his back, for fear of the touch of anything in the house would bring the memories rushing back to him.  Silence.  Not the serene type either.  Valder wasn't sure he could ever get used to it.  But this was her wish, so he would recognize it.  He found himself lounging on her plush pillows, running a hand over the table that was so low to the ground.  

"Another cup?"  

Valder turned, greeted by her smiling face.  The empty cup still warm between his palms.  Not to far away from her,all of Arvanna's needles, crochet hooks, and knitting supplies rested, waiting to go to work again.  His eyes drifted back, only to find an empty space where a cheery visage had just been. With a shuddering sigh, Valder closed his eyes and stood shakily to his feet, pacing back and forth, exploring the same rooms he had seen a hundred times before.  

Already, the plants seemed more lively.  When Valder had arrived, they were covering the entirety of the house, wilting.  What had once been an energizing sight, lively and beautiful, turned dreary.  The light that spilled in through every window passing through the foliage only sending that bleak ambiance through the home.  Arvanna's parent's arrival had changed that, the farmers helping the clueless Vanguard to tend to them.  They left as they came, red eyed and dry of throat.  Still, not a single plant would dwindle or succumb for lack of protection and care.  Though he had told himself the same of Arvanna, and the rest of the First.  And what good came of that.  

It wasn't long before he found himself in the kitchen, surrounded by yet more plants.  As well as his gift to Arvanna on her birthday, resting on the counter. Had it even been a month since that day?  

If the green and white wasn't enough, the stained glass window had begun to illuminate the kitchen in a rainbow of colors.  Valder stared at it a good long while, gripping at the counter.  Had she put it in?  The house, so white before, had decorations strewn and adorned in every nook and cranny.  She was always quite colorful herself and it reflected in her style.  Before he knew it, Valder was closing and opening a droor idly, fingers locked around the knob.

"The one on the right?  By the Spitleaf?"  

Valder grumbled, pulling out a knife deftly after some deliberation.  He didn't even know what a damned Spitleaf was, just got lucky.  A screech and awkward shuffle and he was back in the chair, light fingers brushing darker ones as he handed the utensil over.  There she was, smiling as always, dipping the knife into a jar of mango jam.  Preserves?  He couldn't quite make it out.  Some words, a joke, and he was throwing back his head in laughter, the chair tilting under him from shear weight.  When his head fell forward again, he was staring at the wall across from him.  White wall, a knife in his hand, the chair across from him pushed in.  Lips parted in jovial laughter closed, face sinking with his heart.

Shadows passed over the walls as the bear of a man made his way to the bedroom.  Her wardrobe still  had every article of clothing she ever wore. When he opened it  even her scent lingered.  What she wore when they spent time together, what she wore at her birthday, even her wedding dress.  All save her uniform.  

"Gods how much do you need..." he murmured, the reply a hand not his own gesturing to the dozens of fashionable outfits and a friendly attempt to wrap an arm about his broad shoulder in an awkward hug.  

Valder answered with the same, nearly slipping as his arm shot through open air when it slid through the imaginary figure, only to catch himself hard on the wall.  

A slam and the wardrobe was shut once more.  Valder wouldn't destroy the clothing or get rid of it.  But he would have to move the wardrobe elsewhere. The bed however, would need to be replaced.  There were far to many memories in this place, some could linger, some could go. 

Yet they would always be with him as would she.  Try as hard as he might, Valder could and would not rid himself of every memory of his closest, dearest friend.  She'd always be around.  Away from their careers, the pair of them would fill this house with laughter whenever he had bothered coming around. Valder would see her in everything, he knew, and he'd welcome it all.  Because one day, they'd meet again to share more laughter and tales together.  He would spend more time with Dawn.  He would go to Lions Arch to meet up with Ira as he promised.  He'd be there for his Vanguard as best he could.  They had left for Orr without him.  But he'd be there.  As he strapped his boiled leather on, his roughspun tunic, and gathered his armor, he promised himself once more.  "Live well."

[zarybear]

Arvanna would receive the gift basket from her Brother and Sister-in-Law. A pretty peach Sundress, and two bottles of Moscato from Cervato's families vineyard. Along with a bag of dog biscuits!

LOVE YOU LOTS!!!!  From Zar, Cer and Luke.

crimsoncompendium

[devlomas]

A bump in a crowded bar and suddenly his coat's spattered with booze. The guy's apologizing, but fuck, it's all over Dev's coat, and his expression has already shifted to rage. He sets his money on the bar top, and shrugs out of the coat with slow, measured movements to survey the damage.

He folds it up all nice and sets it on his stool as he stands. And in one fluid motion he's turned to sock the guy right in the face - and gotten a return punch. Next thing he knew there was a full blown bar brawl, and he's sneaking out with a black eye, and split lip, and his coat tucked safely under one arm.

When he got back to his room at the inn, the first thing he did wasn't tend to his bleeding face - it was to check the coat. Carefully - reverently, almost - he checked it over for any other dings or cuts, and then immediately moved to scrub it clean of cheap booze.

He hung it up to dry, quirking a little grin as he said to himself. "Just gotta go easy on it, right, A?"

[crimsoncompendium]

👌 …someone my muse has only met once, but will never forget. (Arvanna)

“I don’t remember asking for your opinion,” snapped a cocky young diasporan to an aging Ascalonian woman.

These days that was all Arvanna really recalled of the exchange. She remembered other things from the same era: She had begun her falconry and fencing classes, her first dog Bethany was entering adulthood, and she and her first girlfriend Jessica were always up to no good. Arvanna remembered the old woman was balding and missing a tooth. Most of all she remembered the stranger had merely offered a scrap of conversation.

It was one of those memories that tended to come up late at night when sleep was evading her. Out of all the most embarrassing things she’d ever done, this one stuck out to make her grimace in the dark.

Thank you! Get to know the people in my muse’s life prompt here.

[crimsoncompendium]

Calontir,

I’ve gone to the Crystal Desert to live. My city is near Amnoon, and thankfully it wasn’t scathed by the Brandstorm. I’ll show you, if you don’t find it first. But I’m coming to the mainland for a while to settle some things I left too quickly. I’ll come to you.

Please, no dinner. I just want to be there with you. Be in the same space as you. Hold you. I’ve missed you, and I belong beside you.

—R

@boughshade | 1

[crimsoncompendium]

😀 - A happy or upbeat song that I associate with my muse (Arvanna)

Side Pony by Lake Street Dive (Spotify / Youtube), a song about looking good, having torrid affairs, and being wholly unapologetic. What’s not to love?

I got a parrot of hair on my shoulderIt’s apparent, it’s there, and it’s bolderLike I show you my cards, I’m no folderYes I’m a soldier

Against everything square and unsightlyYes I know I look good, so don’t fight meAll I need is a clip or a scrunchieAnd then I’m ready

Because I rock a side ponyBaby I’m just living my life

Since I met you you’ve been in my stableAnd I see you whenever I’m ableThough we’re keeping it under the tableIt ain’t a fable

Why can’t we hide it away in your derby?We’re having fun and we’re keeping it flirtyEverybody might say that it’s dirtyBut don’t you worry

Thanks! Music prompt here!