#Official Tax Day Tea Party

[on-partiality]

Today's the 250th anniversary of the Boston Tea Party so here's some information on the Sons of Liberty, the lead up to the Boston Tea Party and what happened after!

apologies for any inaccuracies, I wrote this pretty late

The conflict between the American colonies and New England started after the French and Indian war ended with the Treaty of Paris on the 10th of February, 1763. The French and Indian war started because of conflicting territory claims in North America between the British and the French. Originally it was fought between only the British Americans and the French colonists with Native Americans helping on either side (especially with the French because they were severely outnumbered). However two years into the war the United Kingdom - except for ireland - decided enough was enough and officially declared a war with France which started a large world-wide conflict over many territories. In the end, the war was won by the Colonial Americans and British, the French lost all of their North American territory and what used to be their territory was split somewhat evenly between the Spanish and the British but that was only sorted out after the British fought in a war against the Spanish called the Anglo-Spanish war (the first one). So a victory, that sounds good for America right? Wrong. Wars are expensive, maintaining an army is expensive and the British were dealing with many other wars in all different territories at around the same time so England had a national debt of nearly 177.645 MILLION modern day USD.

England had a HUGE poverty crisis. They had to come up with a way to get money and quickly so on April the 5th 1764 the British parliament amended their pre-existing Sugar and Molasses Act. A tax on the importation of wine, molasses, indigo and sugar from places that weren't part of Britain, mainly the non-British Caribbean. This act also banned all foreign rum. Then on March the 22nd, 1765 the British parliament passed the stamp act. A tax on playing cards, newspapers, legal documents. The main problem with this tax was that it couldn't be paid in the paper money used in the 13 colonies, it had to be paid off using the British Sterling which wasn't easy to obtain in America. That and paper was possibly the most important resource in the 18th century. Later in October 1765, a Stamp Act Congress was held in Philadelphia to discuss all of the problems with this act. Then on March the 24th the British passed the Quartering Act which stated that if British troops want to stay at your house you have to provide them with food and let them inside of your house. This was a clear invasion of two very basic rights of Englishmen, private property and personal security.

The Americans fought back against these acts like with Boston's non-importation agreement where merchants from Boston agreed not to buy or sell anything from/to Britain and the Golden Hill riot in New York and the Gaspée Affair which was when a group burned a British ship while the soldiers were off looking for smugglers in Rhode Island, the group was then accused of treason. The most notable of all of these protests though was the later Boston Tea Party.

The Boston Tea Party happened because of a group called the Sons of Liberty which was created in 1765 out of a strong hatred of the Stamp Act. They believed that it was ridiculous that the British could tax the Americans when the Americans didn't even have a representative in parliament, their phrase was 'no taxation without representation'. There's a lot of dispute over what kind of organisation the Sons of Liberty actually was. I might go into all of the theories in another post but for the moment if you want to come up with your own idea on it I suggest looking into them yourself, for this post I'm just going to call them a group or organisation because it's pretty ambiguous. Anyway, the Sons of Liberty usually met at liberty poles/liberty trees which are believed to have been marked as meeting places using the Sons of Liberty's flag. The group was founded in Boston in the Massachusetts Bay colony and it's leader was Samuel 'Sam' Adams.

The Sons of Liberty's first big really move was to burn an effigy of the local Stamp Act enforcer, Andrew Oliver and then burn his office and destroyed the house of his associate. The group's protests were more often then not violent but they got their points across. It didn't help when the Boston Massacre happened in 1770, which only further outraged the colonists, expect the Boston Massacre to get it's own in depth post one day because the court trial was super interesting. Then on the 10th of May, 1773 the British made another act called the Tea Act which made it so that the colonists had to pay more for tea that wasn't legally imported. The Tea Act was meant to help the British East India Tea Company because they were making most of Britains money and they'd gone into a huge debt which caused 20-30 English banks to collapse and started the British Credit Crisis of 1772-1773. The problem was that because the imported tea from Britain was really cheap people didn't buy from local businesses which caused farmers to go completely bankrupt. The Tea Act was the final straw for the Sons of Liberty and many Americans.

Britain sent a shipment of East India Company Tea to America and all of the American colonies that the tea was going to be sent to convinced the people on the ship to resign except for Massachusetts. So the Dartmouth, a ship full of tea arrived in Boston Harbour, Samuel Adams called for a meeting at Fanueuil Hall and thousands of people turned up so they had to move meeting places. During the meeting the Colonists discussed possible resolutions, they decided to have a medium group of men watching the tea to make sure it wouldn't be unloaded and pleaded for the ship to leave. The governor of Massachusetts refused to let the ship leave and two more ships arrived. On December the 16th, 1773, Samuel Adams met with the people of Massachusetts again to tell them about the governors refusal, the meeting caused total fury amongst all of the colonists.

In protest of the Tea Act and all of the other taxes the British had put on the Americans, the people ran out of the meeting room, some of them put on Native American costumes both in an attempt to conceal their identity because what they were about to do was illegal and as a symbolic choice to show that America's their country, not Britain. They then ran onto the 3 tea ships while Samuel Adams was telling everyone to calm down and stay for the end of the meeting. And spent 3 hours hurling all of the chests of tea into the water.

The British did not respond well, they believed that the Colonists needed to be punished so they passed the infamous Intolerable Acts which consisted of the Boston Port Act, meant to force Boston to pay for the tea by closing the port until the people of Boston paid for the tea which the Colonists argued was unfair because it was punishing the whole population for something only about half of them did, the Massachusetts Government Act which changed the way that the government of Massachusetts worked by giving people appointed by the British Parliament/King far more power, this made it easier for the British government to manage the Massachusetts Bay colony from England, the Administration of Justice Acts which state that any accused Royal officials can get a trial in England if they don't believe that they would be judged fairly in Massachusetts - which seems like a strange thing to add given how the Boston Massacre trial with John Adams went? - And I've already talked about the last intolerable act, the Quartering act which states that you have to let British troops stay in your house if they want to and you have to give them food.

[theetherealraphael]

uhhhhh so i have an incorrect quotes generator. so i made incorrect quotes ::::3

feat. @shakespeare-official-account, @thesmallestclown, @nanochittle, @gibbish-anon-from-gell, @darthpastry and myself

i would have featured more people but the generator has a maximum of 6 people ::::(

(if youre uncomfy with this please lmk!)

clown: Never going to a debate team meeting again. gibbish started their argument with "Riddle me this".

shakespeare: When manga characters add a heart emoji to their speech... I wish I could do that.

clown: You can. Just put a little love in your voice. Smile. People hear it.

gibbish: Moan.

shakespeare: Plants are basically the ideal friends. They are quiet, friendly, and easy to please. All they need is a little water and fresh earth, and they are perfectly happy to lie there all day in the sun. And they don’t make increasingly awful life choices, or hide their relationships. They have never, as far as I know, fucked a bee.

clown: My ultimate goal is to punch God in the eye, just to spite him one last time.

*gibbish and raphael's house is on fire, but they don't know it*

gibbish: Damn, it's hot in here.

raphael: I know, it's so hot there's smoke coming out of the vent!

gibbish:

gibbish: First of all, I'm assuming you have no idea what the problem with that statement is.

raphael: What?

gibbish: Second of all, we need to get the fuck out of here, NOW.

*the squad is at a dinner party but someone has been murdered*

nano: You’re acting pretty carefree for someone who’s life’s at stake. Who’s to say you aren’t the killer?

raphael: It’s a murder, not a tax audit. I’ll be fine.

clown: What about gibbish? Nobody ever suspects gibbish!

gibbish: Well what about shakespeare? They have a gun!

shakespeare: nano has a knife.

nano: Yeah, for fun, not for murder! *stabs clown in the arm*

raphael: Everytime I move, I crunch like popcorn.

shakespeare, singing: And everytime we kiss, I swear I could fly!

gibbish: You can probably tell which family member is coming upstairs by their step pattern but wouldn't be able to pick your your own.

nano: If my own footsteps were coming down the hall towards me I reckon I would have bigger problems on my hands.

clown: Why cant trees give off something important like wifi??

shakespeare: So fuck oxygen, I guess.

clown: I have met some of the most insufferable people. But they also met me.

clown: What's this?

shakespeare, hugging clown: Affection!

clown: Disgusting.

clown: ...Do it again.

shakespeare: What if I took off my leather jacket to reveal a second, secret leather jacket underneath?

clown: You mean... Skin?

shakespeare: What an absolutely terrifying thing to say. Thank you.

raphael: Doctor-Patient confidentiality goes both ways. I saw my doctor killing someone on the street and driving off and I'll have to live and die quiet about it.

raphael, teaching biology: Now, what's the opposite of dominant genes?

gibbish: Submissive genes.

shakespeare: Hey darth?

darth: Yeah?

shakespeare: What's your favorite color of the alphabet? True or false?

darth:

darth: ...What.

shakespeare: So, does everybody understand?

gibbish: Yep!

raphael: I don’t think we’re on the same page.

darth: I don’t think we’re in the same book.

clown: I’m personally on a kindle.

shakespeare: …I’ll take that as a yes.

gibbish: Was I supposed to read something????

nano: I’d rather watch the movie, thank you.

gibbish: When I said you should try being friendlier this isn't what I meant.

raphael, stirring a cup of tea aggressively: Oh, so now I'm TOO friendly? There's no pleasing you.

nano, who broke into their house an hour ago: Two sugars please.

raphael: Coming right up.

clown: It’s impossible to make a sentence without using the letter a.

shakespeare: Despite your thinking, it is quite possible, yet difficult, to form one without the specific letter. Here’s one more to further disprove your theory.

raphael: Fuck you.

shakespeare: There was a lizard in the shower so I said "Hello" to it and the person showering next to me was like "Hi?".

shakespeare: I wasn't sure whether to carry on the conversation or be like "Sorry, I was talking to a lizard."

clown: FUCK THE CHAIR. PARDON ME FOR MAKING MYSELF COMFORTABLE DURING A SINCERE HEART TO HEAR DISCUSSION WITH A DEAR FRIEND IN NEED!

clown: BUT THE TIME HAS COME FOR ME TO CEASE STRADDLING THIS DEEPLY OFFENSIVE PIECE OF FURNITURE! AWAY WITH YE, FOUR LEGGED TEMPTRESS! DISTRACT US NO MORE WITH THE MOST BASIC AND UTILITARIAN FORM OF COMFORT YOU SUPPLY!

raphael: clown just threw a tantrum about a chair.

raphael: I just won clown Tantrum Bingo.

raphael: Life keeps fucking me and I can't remember the safeword.

raphael: Hey there demons, It's me, ya boi.

shakespeare: raphael, NO!

gibbish, glaring at nano's coffin: We are gathered here today because SOMEBODY. Couldn't stay alive.

shakespeare: If you took a shot for every time you made a bad decision, how drunk would you be?

raphael: Maybe a bit tipsy?

nano: Drunk.

gibbish: Wasted.

darth: Dead.

raphael: I just want someone to take me out.

gibbish: On a date?

shakespeare: With a sniper gun?

clown: Both if you're not a coward.

nano: Real men don't hit you up at night asking for pictures of your naked body.

nano: Real men hit their desk with closed fists deMANDING PICTURES OF SPIDERMAN.

raphael, holding a Wii mote with a knife attached: Are Wii gonna have a problem?

nano, bringing out their switch remote with a blade: You best switch up that attitude.

-An hour later...-

clown, in the ambulance: Wii-U! Wii-U! Wii-U!

darth: I hate this fucking family.

gibbish: We ran out of coffee so I'm experimenting with new flavors and expanding my tastebuds.

clown: Oh, cool! So what are you drinking right now?

gibbish: Straight bleach.

clown: I have a problem.

raphael: If it's harder than 2+2, I can't help.

clown: gibbish does what people think Harry Styles does.

shakespeare: Men?

shakespeare: Do you think different paints have different tastes?

clown: They do.

darth: ...Why did you say that with such certainty?

nano: *sharpens knife* We've got ways of making people talk.

nano: *cuts piece of cake*

raphael: ...Can I have some?

nano: Cake is for talkers.

[rabbitcruiser]

International Tea Day 

While everyone loves a cup of tea, many of the workers and producers of that tea face poor conditions and pay. Help raise awareness and keep tea fair.

The tea industry provides millions of people around the world with cups of tea in the morning. One of the biggest producers of tea, India, recognizes the importance of tea in its communities and as a commodity for commerce.

However, much of the working conditions for those within the tea industry still need much improvement. If you think this holiday was about drinking tea, well think again! International Tea Day is all about the tea workers and bringing civil rights into action. Let’s see how this holiday came to pass.

Do you love a good cup of tea? While International Tea Day can certainly involve paying homage to tea, we should pay homage to those working in the tea industry. The best way to do this is by helping to raise awareness regarding their working conditions so they can be improved.

History of International Tea Day

The International Tea Day campaign was launched in 2005 by the trade unions, small tea growers and civil society organizations in Asia and Africa to address the issues of living wages for workers and fair prices for small tea producers.

The International Tea Conference in New Delhi came out with an International Declaration on the rights of workers and small growers to help regulate uneven competition, land ownership, safety regulations, rights of women, social security and living wages. Another organization, The Tea Board of India, proposed International Tea Day in hopes of it becoming an official holiday to the UN Food and Agriculture Organization.

This was proposed by chairman Santosh Kumar Sarangi in 2015. According to the chairman, the proposal of India was supported by countries such as Canada, the United States, European Union, Sri Lanka, China, Japan, Kenya, and Malawi. While the holiday doesn’t have official status, the goal of this holiday is to recognize the vulnerable situations that tea producers in India have with current living conditions and worker-related policies.

The day also focuses on deliberating on urgent issues such as residues, climate change, technology and trends on production and consumption in the tea industry. To observe this day, over 150 representatives from tea organizations gather and conduct a seminar to discuss the pervading problems the tea industry has as well as problems faced within their own country.

International Tea Day Timeline

2737 BC Tea is discovered as a beverage

Legend has it that Chinese Emperor Shen Nung is sitting beneath a tea tree while a servant boiled water for drinking. Some leaves fall into the cup and begin  the practice of drinking what is now called “tea”.

1610 Tea comes to Europe

It is believed that the Dutch were the first to bring tea to Europe, just a few years prior to the introduction of coffee by Venetians.

1773 The Boston Tea Party occurs

With the intention of revolting against the high taxes levied by the British government without providing any voice, residents of Massachusetts throw tea into the Boston Harbor. “No taxation without representation” is the major complaint.

2004 International Tea Day is created

At the World Social Forum, International Tea Day is conceived and then celebrated the following years in New Delhi and Sri Lanka, then later in other tea-producing places like Nepal, Viet Nam, Bangladesh and others.

2019 United Nations adopts International Tea Day

After some years of advocating for its observance, International Tea Day is adopted by the United Nations General Assembly at the suggestion of the FAO Intergovernmental Group on Tea.

How to Celebrate International Tea Day

If you’re a lover of tea, then do some research about some of your favorite companies. Try looking up tea brands that support fair trade, and possibly switch to those brands to make a difference in the way you buy products such as tea. Use the hashtag #internationalteaday to help recognize it as an official holiday and educate others about the tea industry if you’re interested.

You could also use International Tea Day to try a variety of tea you have never had before. Matcha, for example, is highly popular as of late. You need to shop with care, though! The first thing you need to take a look at is how the Matcha has been produced and sourced.

You need to ensure that all veins and stalks have been removed so that there is not any bitterness and only the finest leaves should be used. Secondly, the color of the matcha powder is a significant factor. The greener the color is, the better. This is because the leaves are forced to overproduce chlorophyll because Matcha is shade-grown, which causes the vibrant green shade.

If the Matcha is yellow or brown in color, this is a sign that the leaves have not been properly shaded or that branches and stalks have been included. The price is the third factor to consider. Like most things, if you want quality, you can expect to pay a little bit more.

If something seems too good to be true, the chances are that it is. The feel of Matcha is also important. It should be a fine powder that is very silky. Last but not least, the taste is obviously a crucial attribute when it comes to quality. It should have a clean and naturally sweet taste.

Why not make some delicious baked green tea treats on International Tea Day and have a bake sale to raise money and awareness regarding working conditions in the tea industry? Green tea recipes are available in their abundance. People are actively searching for different ways to enjoy green tea. While green tea is delicious when simply mixed with hot water, there is nothing wrong with switching it up from time to time, especially on International Tea Day!

An easy and delicious recipe is Matcha Meringue Kisses. To make this you will need Matcha, sugar, egg whites, and powdered sugar. Begin by sifting together the Matcha and the powder sugar, and then whip the egg whites until they have soft peaks. Gradually add the sugar and whip until stiff peaks. Gently fold the Matcha into this mixture and then transfer to a pastry bag. Pipe the mixture into small kisses onto a baking tray and then bake for around an hour.

Or, why not make Green Tea Donuts? For this, you need green tea, honey, melted butter, milk, egg, salt, baking powder, sugar, and cake flour. You whisk the green tea, salt, baking powder, sugar, and flour. Add the honey, melted butter, milk, and egg, and then whisk. Use a pastry bag to pipe the batter into the mould. Then, simply bake the donuts for eight minutes. You can make your own glaze to go on the top – chocolate goes well!

Other delicious baked treats to try include green tea muffins, brownies and shortbread!

International Tea Day FAQs

What is International Tea Day?

Created to celebrate and pay tribute to the countries that produce tea to supply to the world, starting in India and moving to other places like Sri Lanka, Malawi, Uganda, Bangladesh, Vietnam and more.

When was International Tea Day first celebrated?

International Tea Day first got its start in 2004 when it was celebrated in New Delhi. It grew over the years and by 2019 the day was adopted by the United Nations General Assembly.

How to celebrate International Tea Day?

A great way to observe this day is by learning a bit more about the nations who produce tea for the world. Also, don’t forget to order a cup of fair trade tea for one, or take a friend out to enjoy a cuppa together.

What is the theme of International Tea Day?

The theme for this day devoted to tea producers changes each year, but some of the past themes have included themes such as Tea and Fair Trade or Harnessing Benefits for All from Field to Cup.

When is International Tea Day celebrated?

Taking place on May 21 of each year, International Tea Day originally took place on December 15 from 2005 when it was often only celebrated by tea-producing countries. It changed to May 21 when the UN adopted the day.

Source

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

[W. D. Cooper, “Boston Tea Party,” The History of North America (London: E. Newberry, 1789); Library of Congress, public domain. Accessed on Wikipedia Commons.]

* * *

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

December 16, 2023 (Saturday)

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

DEC 17, 2023

Today is the 250th anniversary of the Boston Tea Party, when 30 or more men boarded three trading vessels in Boston Harbor. They broke open 342 chests of tea and dumped about 90,000 pounds of the valuable leaves overboard.

The pointed destruction of a cargo worth about $1.7 million in today’s dollars escalated the ongoing struggle between the British government and thirteen of its North American colonies. 

Trouble had been growing since the end in 1763 of what the colonists knew as the French and Indian War. That conflict dramatically expanded British possessions in North America, but at the cost of badly stretching the Treasury. To raise revenue, the king’s ministers and Parliament placed a number of taxes on the colonists, including the 1765 Stamp Act. This law hit virtually everyone by taxing printed material from newspapers and legal documents to playing cards. 

The Stamp Act shocked colonists. At issue was not just money, but a central political struggle that had been going on in England for more than a century: could the king be checked by the people or were his powers unlimited? Colonists were not directly represented in Parliament and believed they were losing their fundamental right as Englishmen to have a say in their government. They responded to the Stamp Act with widespread protests. 

In 1766, Parliament repealed the Stamp Act but claimed for Parliament “full power and authority to make laws and statutes…to bind the colonies and people of America…in all cases whatsoever.” This act echoed the 1719 Irish Declaratory Act, which asserted that Ireland was subordinate to the British king and Parliament. It also imposed new taxes.

As soon as news of the Declaratory Act and the new taxes reached Boston in 1767, the Massachusetts legislature circulated a letter to the other colonies standing firm on the right to equality in the British empire. Local groups boycotted taxed goods and broke into warehouses whose owners they thought were breaking the boycott. In 1768, British officials sent troops to Boston to restore order. 

Events began to move faster and faster. In March 1770, British soldiers in Boston shot into a crowd of men and boys who were harassing them, killing five and wounding six others. Engraver Paul Revere made an instantly-famous image showing soldiers in red coats smiling as they shot at colonists, including Black man Crispus Attucks. The altercation became known as the Boston Massacre.

Parliament removed all but one of the new taxes—the tax on tea—but trouble continued to simmer. In 1771 and 1772, an official in New Hampshire ordered a search of sawmills for white pine that bore the mark of the King’s Broad Arrow, three blazes on a tree— one straight up and two making an upside-down V— designating trunks thicker than 12 inches as the property of the king. New Englanders had never liked the law that claimed their valuable forests for Royal Navy masts, and had ignored it when they could.

But in April 1772, officials charged six sawmill owners with milling trunks that had been marked with the King’s Broad Arrow. One of the owners was arrested and then released with the promise that he would provide bail the next day. Instead, the following morning he and 30 to 40 men, their faces disguised with soot, assaulted the government officials and ran them out of town. 

The so-called Pine Tree Riot suggested that British authority could be defied. Just two months later, a Royal Navy customs schooner, the HMS Gaspee, ran aground in Rhode Island while chasing a packet boat suspected of smuggling. As the captain waited for high tide to float the schooner free, Rhode Island men rowed to the ship, boarded it, and burned it to the waterline.

Eight of the men who participated in the Pine Tree Riot were later charged with assault, but the local judges who sentenced them let them off so lightly the verdict could easily be seen as support for their actions. The government had even less luck prosecuting the men who burned the Gaspee: it could not identify suspects. But its threat to extradite colonists to England for trial seemed to the colonists to prove the British government intended to strip them of their civil rights. 

Then, in May 1773, Parliament tried to bail out the failing East India Company by giving it a monopoly on tea sales in the colonies. This would make tea cheaper in the colonies than it had been. It seemed to colonists the plan was to convince people to accept the cheaper tea…and thus establish Parliament’s right to govern without colonists’ input.

Ships carrying the East India tea sailed for the colonies in fall 1773, but mass protests convinced the captains of the ships headed to every city but Boston to return to England. In Boston the royal governor was determined to land the cargo. On December 16, 1773, after attendees at a meeting at Boston’s Old South Meeting House heard that the governor refused to let ships loaded with tea leave the harbor until the tax was paid, a group of colonists hid their faces, some with soot, other with overt symbols of their new identification with North America rather than England: as Indigenous Americans.

The men boarded three ships moored at a wharf in Boston Harbor, hauled the chests of tea out of the holds with the ships’ block and tackle, broke them open with axes and pry bars, and dumped the tea at an exceptionally low tide, turning the harbor into muck. They were careful to make sure that no other cargo was harmed and that none of the tea was stolen. They were making a political statement.

Parliament responded by closing the port of Boston, moving the seat of government to Salem, stripping the colony of its charter, requiring colonists to pay for the quartering of soldiers in the town, and demanding payment for the tea.  

By fall 1774, concern about the government’s actions had grown deep enough that delegates from the colonies met for six weeks at Carpenters’ Hall in Philadelphia to figure out how to respond, and also how to work together to advance a constitutional opposition to tyranny, as Boston leader Samuel Adams put it.

Over the next two years, American politicians would find an answer to the question of whether the king could be checked by the people. They would get rid of monarchs altogether and declare that the people had the right to govern themselves. 

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

[maximumtalewonderland]

In Philadelphia, Pennsylvania on July 4, 1776, the Continental Congress adopts the Declaration of Independence, which proclaims the independence of the United States of America from Great Britain and its king.

The declaration came 442 days after the first volleys of the American Revolution were fired at Lexington and Concord in Massachusetts and marked an ideological expansion of the conflict that would eventually encourage France’s intervention on behalf of the Patriots.

The first major American opposition to British policy came in 1765 after Parliament passed the Stamp Act, a taxation measure to raise revenues for a standing British army in America. Under the banner of “no taxation without representation,” colonists convened the Stamp Act Congress in October 1765 to vocalize their opposition to the tax.

With its enactment in November, most colonists called for a boycott of British goods, and some organized attacks on the customhouses and homes of tax collectors. After months of protest in the colonies, Parliament voted to repeal the Stamp Act in March 1766.

Why did the American Colonies declare independence?

Most colonists continued to quietly accept British rule until Parliament’s enactment of the Tea Act in 1773, a bill designed to save the faltering East India Company by greatly lowering its tea tax and granting it a monopoly on the American tea trade.

The low tax allowed the East India Company to undercut even tea smuggled into America by Dutch traders, and many colonists viewed the act as another example of taxation tyranny. In response, militant Patriots in Massachusetts organized the “Boston Tea Party,” which saw British tea valued at some 18,000 pounds dumped into Boston Harbor.

The British Parliament, outraged by the Boston Tea Party and other blatant acts of destruction of British property, enacted the Coercive Acts, also known as the Intolerable Acts, in 1774. The Coercive Acts closed Boston to merchant shipping, established formal British military rule in Massachusetts, made British officials immune to criminal prosecution in America, and required colonists to quarter British troops.

The colonists subsequently called the first Continental Congress to consider a united American resistance to the British.

With the other colonies watching intently, Massachusetts led the resistance to the British, forming a shadow revolutionary government and establishing militias to resist the increasing British military presence across the colony.

In April 1775, Thomas Gage, the British governor of Massachusetts, ordered British troops to march to Concord, Massachusetts, where a Patriot arsenal was known to be located. On April 19, 1775, the British regulars encountered a group of American militiamen at Lexington, and the first shots of the American Revolution were fired.

Initially, both the Americans and the British saw the conflict as a kind of civil war within the British Empire: To King George III it was a colonial rebellion, and to the Americans it was a struggle for their rights as British citizens.

However, Parliament remained unwilling to negotiate with the American rebels and instead purchased German mercenaries to help the British army crush the rebellion. In response to Britain’s continued opposition to reform, the Continental Congress began to pass measures abolishing British authority in the colonies.

How did the American Colonies declare independence?

In January 1776, Thomas Paine published “Common Sense,” an influential political pamphlet that convincingly argued for American independence and sold more than 500,000 copies in a few months. In the spring of 1776, support for independence swept the colonies, the Continental Congress called for states to form their own governments, and a five-man committee was assigned to draft a declaration.

The Declaration of Independence was largely the work of Virginian Thomas Jefferson. In justifying American independence, Jefferson drew generously from the political philosophy of John Locke, an advocate of natural rights, and from the work of other English theorists.

The first section features the famous lines, “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.” The second part presents a long list of grievances that provided the rationale for rebellion.

When did American colonies declare independence?

On July 2, 1776, the Continental Congress voted to approve a Virginia motion calling for separation from Britain. The dramatic words of this resolution were added to the closing of the Declaration of Independence. Two days later, on July 4, the declaration was formally adopted by 12 colonies after minor revision. New York approved it on July 19. On August 2, the declaration was signed.

The Revolutionary War would last for five more years. Yet to come were the Patriot triumphs at Saratoga, the bitter winter at Valley Forge, the intervention of the French, and the final victory at Yorktown in 1781. In 1783, with the signing of the Treaty of Paris with Britain, the United States formally became a free and independent nation.

[reddeadreference]

Saint Denis Times No. 48

-Click here to return to the index for Newspapers-

This issue is available after completion of the mission: Urban Pleasures

(All article transcripts below the cut)

Articles marked with * are exclusive to this region’s issue.

Articles marked with ** are only there upon completion of the related mission.

Shootout at Trolley Station

DOZENS DEAD THIEVES ESCAPE ON TROLLEY. FLEE ON POLICE WAGON. CRIME WAVE CONTINUES.

Thieves, in the midst of robbing the Saint Denis Trolley Station, were surprised by police and a vicious gun battle ensued across large tracts of the city. Shots rang out for a considerable period and residents fled the area. Their options limited by the bravery of our police officers, the robbers managed to hijack a trolley and head out onto the streets of Saint Denis, striking fear into street goers and shattering windows and personal property as they exchanged gunfire with the law.

The trolley eventually crashed in a grand spectacle, but the culprits shot their way through a garrison of law enforcement and fled on a police wagon. The horror that was unleashed stretched throughout the city, with citizens aghast at the trail of destruction and worrying for the health and safety of their families. A special meeting of the town council has been called and officials will seek a remedy to what is being called a wave of crime in what is normally a relatively peaceful city.

The New Fashionable Gaiety

GARDEN PARTIES AND READINGS OF EVELYN MILLER.

American High Society thrives on a spectacle and there is no bigger trend in the dinner dances, musicals and garden parties attended by the elites of the era than that of the writings of Evelyn Miller. His musings on nature, simplicity and the rights of savages are all the topics of conversation over a luncheon or mild tea. His ideas seem to penetrate the aristocratic cranium in such a way that readers can speak of little else.

In some circles, they seem to prefer that the thoughts of Mr. Miller become social law. Indeed Mr. Miller spends plenty of time in the social strata where he is a topic of conversation - he is often seen at a garden party and was present at the famed Mayor’s Ball in Saint Denis this year, while visiting the region on a sabbatical from his teaching job in New Haven, Connecticut.

While it is surely a delightful social life discussing philosophy while watching regattas or in mansions with fashionable people, it is this newspaper’s opinion that at the heart of Mr. Miller’s writings is a basic disdain for “others” who due to social position have not achieved his level of enlightenment. He, like others of his kind, is a dandy and fraud masquerading as a man of nature and the arts. We as a people can do better than to worship this false idol.

The Indian Trouble

WAPITI QUARREL WITH U.S. AGENTS.

Indian discontent has taken many forms and many say it is poised to boil over once more. The ungrateful Indian can wax poetic about a time when all land was his, and grumble about his limited quarters confined to reservations all he wants, but the facts are the facts. The United States of America has been particularly generous to the red man, and yet, they repeatedly claim mistreatment.

However, there is nothing preventing any citizen of the United States from leaving, and so too should the red man consider leaving for Europe, or Canada, or more likely, Mexico, which does not impose tax or laws on times of season which one can hunt game. Currently, most full-blooded Indians are quite content to accept the very generous allowance given by the U.S. Government. Yet there are still some tribes who prefer conflict as their warring nature cannot leave their system.

Take for instance, in our region, the Wapiti Reservation in the Grizzlies where tensions with the army regiment stationed at nearby Fort Wallace are growing, and some fear an all-out return to the bloody days of the Indian Wars. Colonel Henry Favours, officer in command of the local regiment, has sent a dispatch to Washington warning of a possible return to armed hostilities as the Indians have failed to abide by treaties that we signed in good faith.

Indians claim that the army is withholding supplies and medicine and that sickness is rife, all of which are falsehoods meant to further hostilities. We will stay with this story as events unfold.

Guarma Island Sugar Boom

FUSSAR CALLED FRIEND THE OF THE US. CUBAN IMPORTS ON THE RISE.

Rail Baron and industrial Titan Leviticus Cornwall stood next to a ship unloading Cuban sugar from the island of Guarma and hailed a new era of cooperation between the two countries. After making two trips to the region to tour sugar plantations, and signing an exclusive purchase order with the Governor of Guarma, imports are on the rise. Cornwall had called local governor Alberto Fussar “a great friend of America.”

However, the boom is undercutting the US sugar industry and resulting in the loss of American jobs. Detractors call Fussar a controversial figure who is flamboyant at times and cruel at others and has Guarma under a quasi-military rule. His security force is reportedly feared across the island, which plantation workers often working 14 hour shifts to keep up.

Gang Hideout Discovered

AT CLEMENS POINT. BELIEVED TO BE VAN DER LINDE GANG. WAS DESERTED ONLY DAYS BEFORE.

Law agents and others on the trail of the Van der Linde gang say they have discovered the remains of a camp that no doubt served as the base of operations as the gang robbed, terrorized and killed citizens across the Scarlett Meadows area recently. The rather large area was well organized and, based on the footprint of the operation, it appears that more people are involved in the thieving organization than officials pursuing the gang originally thought.

The Van der Linde gang is wanted for a string of robberies and murders, most notably the Blackwater boat heist where close to $150,000 was stolen. Ranchers in the area report missing livestock, and one man, Thaddeus Rivington, reported to police that his teenage daughter has disappeared and joined the gang, which he says serves as the only explanation as to why she wouldn’t want to finish the process of discernment and joining a local convent.

Mayor’s Gala Was Grand

WEALTHY ATTEND ANNUAL SOIREE.

The annual high society gala thrown by Saint Denis Mayor Henri Lemieux at his mansion this year went late into the night with champagne flowing, a string quarter serenading guests, and fireworks filling the night skies.

The eclectic roster of high-profile guests included the industrialist Archibald Jameson, war hero Major Hobart Crawley, the banker Gilbert Knightly, and proprietor of the Saint Denis Times Tribune Hector Fellowes. Also, somewhat controversially, in attendance was Angelo Bronte, a generous benefactor to the city of Saint Denis, but also believed to have ties to unsavory business interests.

Bombardment of the Stars

MAGNIFICENT SHOWER OF METEORS.

There was great disappointment felt last year when the predicted meteoric shower did not appear. Astronomers the world over wondered if the shower had been given up as lost or merely delayed a year. However, amateur astronomers have been sending in dispatches regarding sightings of meteor showers near Roanoke Ridge in New Hanover after a large meteor hit there.

These space particles intersect with the earth, combusting into brilliant showers of light, and are thought to be residual debris from the system that produced the massive meteor that recently fell and created a sizeable crate in the area. Some have flocked to the crater claiming that the space debris has healing powers, while others claim this to be unsubstantiated and ludicrous conjecture.

Chicago Negroes Hold Anti-Lynching Service

PROTEST AGAINST LYNCHING OF POPULAR REVEREND IN GEORGIA.

The body of Reverend Benson Floyd, the man who was implicated in the Chandler murder, was found hanging from a branch of a persimmon tree in a small hamlet in Georgia. Despite many protests of his innocence by his employer and white members of the the community, a mob convicted him by a roadside here and strung him up to hang after mutilating the body.

Floyd had been implicated by another Negro, Otto Luther, who was hanged in the Chandler murder and in a final confession said it was the preacher who had paid him to murder Chandler. Many believe this story to be a falsehood as Luther resent Rev. Floyd’s chastising him for his sinful ways. In response to the lynchings, many of the 30,000 colored residents of Chicago are arranging a series of protests to be held in churches. Community leaders have called for calm and civilized discussions.

A World of Amazement.

SAINT DENIS ENTERTAINMENT SHINES,.

Stroll by the Théâtre Râleur   and it is hard to miss the gay spectacle that transpires inside. Indeed you can hear it spilling out onto the street. Master of Ceremonies Aldridge T. Abbington has brought a devine spectable to Saint Denis, and the nightly shows feature an epic brute of a woman named Hortensia, the magic and daring escapes of Benjamin Lazarus, a fire breather, a snake charmer, French dancers, musical acts and more.

Watch as unsuspecting members of the audience become part of the show! The line up changes nightly and ticket prices are reasonable,. as Abbington is wont to remind you repeatedly. This is sophisticated entertainment at its finest, like they enjoy London and Paris.

Massive Explosions

ROBBERY AT CORNWALL FACILITY

MANY DEAD OR DYING

A peaceful night was split in two as explosions rocked Cornwall Kerosene & Tar in the heartlands of New Hanover. In the ensuing chaos, a gang of criminals breached the perimeter and headed towards the office safe. According to the foreman, the robbers were not interested in stealing cash. Instead they sough important business documents from the safe.

They were discovered mid-heist and a spectacular gun battle ensued. Numerous guards were killed and other gravely wounded as the unscrupulous bandits fled. Local law enforcement do not have any leads or motives but report to be forming organized posses and militias to comb the surrounding area.

The Art of Angling by Jeremy Gill

LARGEMOUTH BASS.

My well-appointed study contains a plethora of mounted trophies, most notable among them countless magnificent examples of Largemouth Bass. These feisty creatures are like trained acrobats and make any keen angler's best friend and worst foe. They flash and fin and jump and leap towards the heavens, all the while the excited angler shouts with joy.

Once a very rich woman, upon visiting my trophy room, became overwhelmed with the vapors, and matters got really rather indiscreet, but that is not a subject a gentleman ever discusses in the pages of a newspaper. Indigenous to open, flowing water, bass are finicky, preferring rain to sunshine and crawfish to lures. Once they strike, fight with all you can and do not let go. Happy fighting. It'll be well worth it, when you win a battle.

[ponderlyunbiasednews]

Are Democrats or Republicans more responsible for polarization in America?

Fact Box

‘Polarization’ is defined as “a sharp division, as of a population or group, into opposing factions.”

A 2014 Pew Research study on polarization in America found that the typical (or median) “Republican is now more conservative than 94% of Democrats, compared with 70% twenty years ago. And the median Democrat is more liberal than 92% of Republicans, up from 64%.” 

Gallup reports that since 2003, political polarization has increased the most over these issues: federal government power, climate change, education, abortion, foreign trade, immigration, gun laws, government-funded healthcare, and income tax fairness.

Some studies look at social media as helping shape American polarization “through the following social, cognitive, and technological processes: partisan selection, message content, and platform design and algorithms.”

Andrew (Reps)

Former President and convicted felon Donald Trump, along with his Republican colleagues, have seemingly embraced white nationalism, far-right ideologies (such as the Great Replacement theory), and violent rhetoric (like “when the looting starts, the shooting starts”). Rather than an aberration, this latest iteration of Republican hate-mongering is simply accelerating the��trend of conservatives in America moving distinctly to the political right. The Republican party has moved so far to the right that compromise, even with centrist Democrats, is virtually impossible. As far back as 2010, many Republican lawmakers declared they would never compromise with the opposition. We have also seen more recent versions of this, such as when Republicans killed the bipartisan border security bill so that Donald Trump could use the issue in his election campaign. 

While many issues divide the nation, the Republican position of allowing virtually unlimited access to weapons of war and refusing even to consider sensible gun control has caused deep divisions in our nation. Guns kill tens of thousands of people in America each year, causing real pain, yet Republicans insist on maintaining the status quo.

Republicans are directly responsible for the conversations that many millions of Americans dread each year at Thanksgiving: QAnon and other conspiracy theories. Donald Trump’s tenuous grasp of basic facts, as well as the inability to admit defeat in the 2020 election, have created deep divisions and polarizations so severe it has become difficult for families to enjoy a holiday meal together. Unfortunately, ever since the days of the Tea Party, Republicans have allowed their anger and irrationality to separate them from others in society.

Luis (Dems)

Republicans and Democrats have become more separated by their conservative and liberal beliefs over the years. Yet, the Democratic party is mainly responsible for increasing this polarization. Their racially divisive and dangerous rhetoric towards their political counterparts does nothing to 'lower the temperature.' Conservative Republicans have been regularly demonized as Democratic leaders use denigrating and offensive rhetoric against anyone who disagrees with the liberal agenda. 

Biden himself did this in 2022, declaring Trump, MAGA supporters, and the Republican agenda at large assaults 'equality and democracy.' In 2015, Hilary Clinton called Trump supporters 'deplorables.' In 2012, Biden said to Black voters that voting for Romney would “put y’all back in chains.” Over his two terms, Obama is directly responsible for polarization, even promoting the lie in 2014 that racism is ‘deeply rooted’ in America.

Most concerningly is how Democrat officials prosecute their political opponents, exasperating polarization and distrust in the government. Obama did it when he directed the IRS to go after conservative groups and more recently during Biden-Harris's term when Trump was unprecedently targeted by politically-driven indictments and lawsuits coming from a Democrat DOJ, prosecutors, and judges.

Democrats have ridiculed conservatives for decades, imposing a biased narrative onto public opinion, echoed by Hollywood and the mainstream media, both run by liberals. This is why media pundits often repeat Democrat talking points, which are polarizing by themselves. 

The Democratic Party has radicalized to extreme positions, showing its ugliest semblance after Trump's 2016 presidential victory. Liberals invented the lie that he stole the election through “Russian collusion.” Democrats have also embraced identity politics, accompanied by woke ideology, which has only further deteriorated race relations in the US and resulted in dangerous policies like police defunding. Republicans aren’t perfect, but no one has contributed more to today’s polarization than Democrats.

[amoonglove]

A House built on Quicksand

((This work does not belong to me and is shared with the permission of the writer ♥))

"Must be pretty valuable cargo if you're going through all this trouble, Mormoto." Agon regarded the Lalafellan merchant, both were seated in a secluded café within the heart of Ul'dah. The place was dimly lit with candles scattered about here and there and several sconces along the walls. Tea was on the table along with some small snacks, not to mention a plethora of documents that Agon had given the merchant who was selling something that was... well... illegal, so Agon suspected.

Of course, plenty of illegal dealings happened every day in Ul'dah. It wasn't exactly known for its niceties in the merchant world. It was cutthroat, and only the most conniving could really make it big. Not to say that all merchants were bad, certainly not. It’s just that Agon didn't particularly find this sort of work agreeable to him, it made him uneasy. Despite this, he was one of the more well-regarded arbitrators in the city.

Arbitrators in the merchant world are complicated. They serve as a medium, a third party to ensure trade went smoothly and fairly. If things went wrong, well, Agon was equipped to handle himself and often escort the innocent side away from the deal. That didn't happen often though, both parties had to agree on the Arbitrator, often a sign of good faith in barters to ensure one wasn’t going to be scammed. It also required somewhat of a reputation.

"That it is. You've already contacted the buyer?" Mormoto asked from his seat. A guard or two stood several feet away, giving the two privacies within the den, but were close enough to at least attempt to save the poor Lalafell if for some reason Agon decided to cut him down right there. Free paladins were unpredictable and often hard to read compared to those sworn to the Sultanate.

"I have. He didn't say what it was he was buying exactly. As you and Lord Nanelo's Arbitrator in this deal I suppose it isn't required for me to know."

Mormoto chuckled and grinned devilishly for a moment. "But you want to." Agon just eyed him. "Well too bad! You’ll see when the exchange happens, Arbitrator."

Agon took the moment to finish off his tea then stood from his chair. A hand came down onto his sword for a moment and the merchant flinched in response. Before he could call for his guards Agon just smiled and thanked the merchant lord for the tea then made his way out of the den between the two guards.

The bazaar outside bustled with merchants, travelers, and more. Agon stepped into the crowd and waded through. He was familiar with these streets and stood tall as he walked amongst the people. It was impressive anyone was able to move about at all. Street venders shouted out deals and haggled with patrons at their stands, others played music for spare gil, and others waded on. Agon drifted along towards one wall of the corridor-like merchant area toward a much more refined stall. This one had several Brass Blade guards stationed, too. It was the official tax office of the Sultanate. The Viera made his way over towards one of the attendants and handed her a bundle of paperwork.

“Ah! Another one, Agon? Trying to finish up early this year?” The attendant, an older Hyur woman asked.

“I might be! This job is getting awfully old, miss Shyra.”

“I’ll get these stamped. Take care out there now, you hear?” Shyra beckoned out as Agon started to make his way off already.

As Agon slipped away he managed to get himself into a much less traveled alleyway. The hustle and bustle of the city of Ul’dah still could be heard of course, but he found himself looking out from the shaded alleyway out into the unshaded street beyond still bustling with people. He pressed his back to the stone wall next to him as he looked out at the street and then into the interior of the alleyway to ensure he was alone. His digits raked back through his hair as he leaned the back of his head against the wall.

Mormoto was up to something, and it bothered Agon dearly… Even now he felt a knot in his stomach over what this trade deal was. Agon looked back out at the street and just watched the people as they passed.

Then suddenly, a dark-haired and dark-skinned Hyur woman walked by. She seemed… oddly familiar. Although, her hair seemed awfully different from Anthea’s… Then the girl looked over briefly in his direction and he saw her eyes. Agon’s ears suddenly perked as he continued to watch the woman. That’s Anthea! What in damnation was Anthea of the Twelveswood doing in Ul’dah?

“Hey! Watch it idiot!” Some thuggish character shouted as Agon suddenly pushed aside several people within the sea of people he had to cross to get to Anthea. Others shouted at Agon as they got bumped into as he lightly pressed or tapped to get through. Once he crossed to the other side, she was gone.

“Where did you…” A tap came at the back of Agon’s shoulder, and he spun around with perked ears. “A-Anthea?”

“Agon!” Anthea shouted and pressed into him; arms wrapped about his shoulders for an embrace.

Agon stood dumbfounded but finally wrapped his arms around her to hug. “Anthea, what in the void are you doing here? I never thought I’d ever see you in Ul’dah of all places.”

“Well, you know… Sometimes you must travel for supplies,” she smiled up him. "There are a few things I needed that can only be found here in the city: rare herbs, spices..."

Agon shrugged, he didn’t know much about all that, but what he did know was that the two were here now. “Your hair is short now. It suits you. I like it.”

Anthea smiled up at Agon again and patted his chest. “You’re looking as handsome as always.” This elicited a snort from Agon as he turned to walk with Anthea.

“I’m working right now. Merchants. I suspect one of them is trying to sell people, the other trying to buy them. Neither of them are willing to tell me what they’re trading.”

((Thank you so much to the writer of Agon Uru who put so much thought into this piece! I look forward to following this arc with you!))

[criticalroleheadcanonshome]

Mighty Nein and Dream Weddings (modern AU)

Note: I’m not taking ships into account

Beau: Everyone is drunk pretty much the whole time. She doesn’t give a shit about tradition and tradition doesn’t give a shit about her. It’s more of a party than anything else and she hopes her asshole of a father (who wasn’t invited) feels embarrassed about it for the rest of his stupid life.

Yasha: It’s 100% in a garden. He dress is floral and she has pretty flowers in her hair. Only a handful of people are there because that’s all she needs. They bring out a fake giant cake for Yasha and her partner to attack before bringing out the real one. It’s the highlight of the night.

Caduceus: He’s never going to have one for multiple reasons, but when he pictures it it’s a lot like Yasha’s. It’s definitely in a garden. No one is dressed up that much and the whole thing is over rather quickly. There’s no alcohol but there is lots and lots of tea.

Molly: It’s what everyone imagines when they think of a Vegas wedding. The shitty venue was booked last minute and all of his friends were only warned a couple weeks in advance since it was a very spur of the moment thing. The ceremony is short and most of it is just a party that Molly and his partner nope out of not long after it starts.

Fjord: It’s on the deck of a boat with only his closest friends, Vandran, and however his partner wanted to bring. It’s all very traditional, and happens at around sunset. The wedding pictures are beautiful. He spends most of his time after the ceremony of to the side wish his partner watching all of his friends have fun in celebration of his love.

Veth: It’s a quick thing since Veth is very impatient. There is lots of food. She gets more into dressing up for it than anyone would expect from her. The ceremony itself is very sweet, though the rest of the night is chaos. She doesn’t wear white and encourages guest to wear whatever they want.

Jester: She’d need an entire castle to make her dream wedding come true. Everyone is celebrating for days. Her dress is huge and beautiful. Sprinkle is the ring bearer and everyone is invited to bring their pets. She spends hours dancing in a ballroom after the ceremony, though she spends most of the time with her partner. She spent years planning this and it’s all wonderful

Caleb and Essek: Neither of these fuckers are getting married, especially not with an official ceremony. If there do it for any reason, it’s tax benefits.

[beardedmrbean]

April 15 (UPI) -- On this date in history:

In 1817, the oldest, permanent U.S. public school for the deaf, Connecticut Asylum for the Education and Instruction of Deaf and Dumb Persons (now the American School for the Deaf), was founded at Hartford, Conn.

In 1865, U.S. President Abraham Lincoln died of an assassin's bullet fired the night before at Ford's Theatre in Washington. Vice President Andrew Johnson was sworn in as chief executive.

In 1912, the luxury liner Titanic sank in the northern Atlantic Ocean off Newfoundland after striking an iceberg the previous night. Approximately 1,500 people died in the tragedy.

In 1931, Spanish Republicans formed a new government as King Alfonso sailed into exile.

In 1944, the Soviet army captured the Polish city of Tarnopol from German occupation. When Nazi Germany took the city in 1941, it murdered thousands of Jews, and in 1944, the Soviets killed some 4,500 Germans and destroyed much of the city.

In 1947, Major League Baseball's color line was officially broken with the debut of Jackie Robinson for the Brooklyn Dodgers at Ebbets Field in Brooklyn on opening day. Robinson, who went on to become one of the game's great stars, walked and scored a run in the Dodgers' 5-3 victory over the Boston Braves.

In 1955, the first franchised McDonald's was opened in Des Plaines, Ill., by Ray Kroc, who got the idea from a hamburger restaurant in San Bernardino, Calif., run by the McDonald brothers.

In 1970, President Richard Nixon asked Congress for legislation to prohibit dumping of polluted dredge waste into the lakes.

In 1986, President Ronald Reagan ordered airstrikes against the Libyan regime of Moammar Gadhafi in response to the bombing of a Berlin discotheque that killed two U.S. serviceman.

In 1998, Pol Pot, the Khmer Rouge leader who presided over a reign of terror in Cambodia in the late 1970s, died at a jungle outpost near the Cambodia-Thailand border.

In 2009, Tea Party protests, largely critical of President Barack Obama and his policies, had their biggest turnout to date on April 15, tax day -- in many cities.

In 2013, two pressure-cooker bombs exploded near the finish line of the Boston Marathon, killing three people and injuring more than 260.

In 2014, after sending a distress signal, a South Korean ferry capsized off the country's southern coast, an incident that killed about 300 people.

In 2017, the bombing of a convoy of buses carrying evacuees killed at least 126 people in Aleppo, Syria, including dozens of children.

In 2019, a devastating fire collapsed the roof and spire of Notre Dame Cathedral, but fire officials said they managed to avoid the total destruction of one of Paris' most recognizable landmarks.

[just-tired-girl]

Miffty

Character Info

Name: Miffty Araignées

V/A: ???

Gender: Female

Age: 27

Birthday: 14 March

Height: 166 cm

Eye color: Black

Hair color: Dark violet

Race: ???

Family: Unseen mother and father (alive)

Seven unseen younger siblings (all alive)

Maria Araignées (grandmother, deceased)

Twisted from: Muffet (Undertale)

Status

Occupation: School librarian (@hourglassstationacademy)

Sexuality: Pansexual

Homeland: Silkworm Village (birthplace, before it became part of Boulevard of Shine), Boulevard of Shine (currently)

Fun facts:

Dominant hand: Ambidextrous, but prefers her upper right hand

Favorite food: Muffins, flower tea

Least favorite food: All kinds of skewers (especially from arachnids)

Likes: Her family, spiders, reading books, tea parties, baking,

Dislikes: Liars, people hurting spiders, when students fail to deliver books on time or destroy them

Hobby: Baking, organizing tea parties, reading

Talents: Detecting when someone is lying, taking care of children, talking with spiders, baking

Nicknames: Miss Araignées (by students)

Spider lady (by people)

Big sis (by her siblings)

My little bugsy (by her grandmother)

Unique Magic: Dance Web

Makes magical lines on ground near herself. Lines extend up to five meters from her. If someone stand on one of them they are trapted, they can't move outside of the line. Effect stays on until she cancel the spell.

Personality and Backstory

Miffty and her family used to live in Silkworm Village near Boulevard of Shine. Everything was fine until the city started to grow. Developers were buying more and more land around the city until the village became part of Boulevard of Shine. Destruction of farms and taxes imposed by the city led many families to financial problems. Despite the fact that Miffty's parents managed to find a job, they were still barely making ends meet, mainly due to the size of the family. Despite the difficulties, she still tried to help her parents as much as she could, mainly by caring for her younger siblings and earning money by selling baked goods. She finished her studies at the age of 18 and started working in the municipal library. Later, thanks to Malorie, she was hired as schools librarian. She still helps her family by sending most of her paycheck to them.

She tries to do her job best, that's why sometimes she gets irritated if the students do not follow the rules of the library. Also doesn't like when people hurt spiders. Otherwise she is very cheerful and likes to help students find books or when they struggles with homework.

Triva

- Her surname, Araignées mean spider in French.

- Miffty's birthday is on the National Spider's Day.

- Her race is very rare. It's often labeled as type of beastmen or fae, but it does't have it's own name. It' representatives have many insect characteristics (e.g: antennae, additional arms and eyes).

- She was part of Malorie's friend group, but she didn't studied with them after middle school due to family finances. Event of ritual ( Day of Remembrance) also affected her. They are still on friendly terms.

- Was very close with her grandmother Maria. She taught Miffty everything about baking and making tea. After school they used to have tea parties together. She died night before village officially became party of the city.

- Her recipe for chocolate muffins with marshmallow "web" is her signature baking. It's her grandmothers recipe with some twist. Also occasionally helps in Cafeteria.

- By living with seven younger siblings she can easily tell if someone is lying or not.

- If student does't follow library rules despite admonition or destroy any book she uses her unique magic to make them stay in library until their dorm leader comes. Then she with them sets a kind of punishment for the student.

- After that I suggest bringing flower tea bag on next visit to library. Thanks to a small gift, she may not be so angry anymore, but this method doesn't work many times.

- She had seen people eating tarantura skewers once. Terrified to this day.

- Miffty can talk with spiders and she treats them as people. She made friends with every spider in school.

____________________________________________________________

My first oc is finally done. I hope that my girl is good enough to be accepted. (^ω^)

[teacupfulofstarshine]

pattonella part 13: kingdom alert: the princes are fiiiiiiiightiiiiiiiing!

cw: mentions of injury/infection/illness, mentions of death, arguing, overworking, parental figures who are not the best 

wordcount: ~3.3k

part 1 // part 2 // part 3 // part 4 // part 5 // part 6 // part 7 // part 8 // part 9 // part 10 // part 11 // part 12 // read it on ao3!! 

virgil stays in the infirmary for almost a week after he first wakes up. 

he spends a lot of his time sleeping, since he’s too weak to do anything else. for the first few days of wakefulness, he barely has the strength to squeeze logan’s and patton’s hands when they hold them. despite his barely-open eyes, he smiles every time he sees them. 

“i’m sorry,” he says once, voice raspy and hoarse. patton tilts his head in confusion.

“why are you apologizing?”

“for scaring you. i came home unconscious . . . on logan’s horse . . . and you didn’t know . . . what was happening . . . i’m sorry . . .” his chest heaves slightly with effort, and patton leans in to brush his hair out of his eyes. 

“it’s not your fault. you saved roman’s life, vee, you saved everyone. you all came home alive, and that’s all i can ask for.” virgil smiles at him, eyes half-open, and yawns. “are you tired, vee?” 

“‘m always tired lately.” 

“that’s normal,” emile says, carrying over a large teapot. “you expended an enormous amount of magic when you were fighting. your body is trying to recover that energy; that’s why you’re sleeping so much. this tea helps you recover your energy as well, so keep drinking.” 

virgil makes a face at the cup of tea emile has in his hands, but he still lets patton help him sit up. he takes the tea and sips at it gently, blowing off the cloud of steam. emile dips a washcloth into a pail of cool water, wrings it out, and drapes it across virgil’s forehead, removing the old cloth that has grown warm. 

“is logan going to visit today?” virgil asks. 

“prince logan said he would stop by after attending to his duties at court,” emile says. “remy will be back in a little while, he’s attending to the king.” a somber tone falls over the infirmary at the mention of the king. 

“what . . . exactly is wrong with the king?” patton asks. “we know that he’s sick, of course, but - but we have no idea what’s actually wrong with him. do you know? are - are you allowed to tell us?” 

emile exhales, nodding slowly. “the king was injured in battle. he hid it because -”

“he’s a self-righteous idiot and a coward,” remy mutters, shoving the infirmary door shut behind him. emile’s face brightens when he sees his husband, dimming when he sees how pale and drawn remy looks. “he didn’t want to worry people, so instead of letting me treat his injury and having a recovery time of maybe two weeks, he hid it until it got infected and then he hid the infection until he collapsed and now it’s so far gone that there’s nothing i can do to heal him. it’s killing him from the inside out.” 

“the king will die?” patton asks. 

“we all die eventually,” remy says, “but it’s true that the king is ailing more swiftly than most. i’d say he has . . . three years left to live, at most.” emile reaches up and gently kisses remy’s cheek, pressing his face into his shoulder. 

“there’s a reason the rush is on to get thomas officially named crown prince,” emile says. “if he does not bear the official title when the king passes on, there will be a power struggle.” 

“why? thomas is the eldest prince. roman and logan would never stand in his way of becoming king, would they?” 

“no, but without an official heir appointed, it is possible that anyone with a connection to the royal bloodline, however small, could present themself as heir apparent. it would take months, perhaps even years to sort through the muck and mire of all that inherently political bullshit, which would derail the peace and prosperity of this kingdom. it is imperative that thomas is officially named the crown prince before the king dies.” 

“do we have to be married for thomas to be named crown prince?” patton asks. “is an engagement enough to satisfy the law?” 

“unfortunately, no. engagements can be made and broken at the drop of a hat, but a marriage is not so easily annulled. the wedding ceremony must be completed before thomas can be named crown prince.” 

“i think that’s a stupid rule,” patton mutters. virgil laughs softly, and patton squeezes his hand. 

“the most likely scenario at this point is a triple function.”

“a what?” 

“logan and roman will have a double wedding to the two of you, and then once the wedding ceremony is completed, thomas will immediately be officially named crown prince. that way, no matter what happens, the kingdom will be secured.”

“and then we party?” patton asks. remy laughs. 

“yeah, babes. and then we party.” 

*~*~*~*~*

“everything alright?” 

logan jumps three feet into the air at the sudden noise, whirling around to see roman behind him, hand raised as though he was about to lower it onto his shoulder. “take a deep breath, lo, it’s just me.” logan presses a hand to his chest, exhaling sharply. 

“you startled me, roman. please do not do that.” roman rolls his eyes, bumping his shoulder against logan’s as he steps towards the window logan’s been pensively staring out of. “can i be of assistance?” 

“do you know any good smiths?” 

logan hums, clasping his hands behind his back. “you spend far more time consorting with the villagers than i, roman. if anyone were to possess such information, it would be you.”

“yeah, but you spend all your time with the tax records and shit, i figured you’d know.” 

logan frowns. “what is all this about, roman?” 

roman looks at him, and logan realizes he’s been crying. “roman -”

“i went to see father.” 

logan wants to swear. “roman, i thought we agreed to go together if we went -”

“we did! but i saw remy going to treat him, so i followed him, and when the door opened he saw me and he beckoned me inside and what was i gonna do, say no to the king?” 

“what did he say to you?” 

“he asked me if i was married yet.” 

“and you told him?” 

“no, but i have a partner.” 

“what did he say?” 

“‘that’s not good enough, roman,’” roman grouses, dropping his voice into a gruff imitation of their father’s. “'you of all people should understand how imperative it is that there is no issue with succession. thomas must be named my heir and become crown prince before i shuffle off this mortal coil -’”

“don’t talk about father’s death like that,” logan snaps. 

“and how else should i talk about it, logan? father has been dying for years. and he’s making me rush my relationship with patton just so that thomas can get the official version of a title we all know he has!” 

“father does not want to die without officially naming an heir. i understand that.”

“you really think someone’s going to be stupid enough to challenge thomas’s birthright?” 

“it will not hurt to be prepared. you are responding irrationally.” 

“right, because you’ve never done anything irrational in your life, logan, like riding into battle with no backup and no plan because your stupid magic boyfriend thinks i can’t take care of myself! what does he know, anyway? he doesn’t know anything about me or us or -” 

“virgil saved your life,” logan says, voice low and thunderous. he takes a step forward, then another, and roman takes a step backward, then another. “if it wasn’t for his vision, you would have died . many more people would have been injured or killed if he had not come when he did. or did you forget the fact that he fell into a coma because he expended so much magic saving you? healing you? keeping you alive?” roman flinches away from his anger, and logan can’t bring himself to care.

“logan, i -”

“this conversation is over,” logan says, voice icy and cold. “i will see you at dinner, prince roman. send a servant if you have need of me.” he turns around and stalks down the hallway, footsteps sharp and precise against the stone floor. he hears roman throw a punch at something behind him, but he doesn’t call out, and logan doesn’t turn around. 

*~*~*~*~*

“lord san - patton?” 

patton looks up from the basket of yarn he’s picking through to see nate standing in the doorway, fidgeting with the hem of his tunic. “nate! come in!” 

“you have a visitor,” nate says. he sounds oddly formal, and patton tilts his head in confusion. “sir claire, knight of the kingdom, second in command to his royal highness prince roman, requests an audience.”

“oh! um . . . send her in, sure!” patton remembers her riding just behind logan and roman when they’d returned from battle, but he’s never actually spoken to her. 

nate steps into the hallway and murmurs something, and then claire steps in. she’s not wearing full armor, but there’s leather wrapped around her forearms and legs, and her hair is tied up in a knot atop her head. she’s panting slightly, face shining with sweat, as though she’s just come from the training grounds. 

“lord sanders,” she says, bowing to him. patton stands up, not sure if he’s supposed to curtsy back at her or not, but as he’s gathering the material of his dress claire continues speaking. “i would request something of you, lord sanders.” 

“um . . . okay! is it something you need from roman?” 

“it actually concerns his highness prince roman.” 

“is he hurt? is he alright?” 

claire shakes her head. “i believe he had an . . . altercation with his highness prince logan earlier. prince roman came to the training grounds two hours ago, and he has been putting any guard he can through rigorous dueling. he’s finally exhausted his supply of human opponents, and he has been hacking away at training dummies for the past thirty minutes. his hands shake with exhaustion, but nothing i do or say convinces him to stop and rest. i worry he may pass out from heat or over exertion or -” 

patton wrings his hands nervously, and claire takes a deep breath. “i do not mean to alarm you, lord sanders. i merely thought perhaps, as you are beloved of prince roman, you might accompany me to the training grounds and convince him to rest, if only briefly?” 

“of course,” patton says. “nate, go to the kitchens, get some cold water, as much as you can carry, and some sort of snack. cheese, maybe? and nuts? something to get roman’s strength up. meet me on the training grounds.” 

“at once, lord sanders,” nate says, bowing his head respectfully to patton and claire before sprinting out into the hall. patton slips his shoes on and follows claire out to the training ground. 

“how long have you and roman known each other?” 

“the prince and i entered knighthood training at the same time. were he not the prince, i suspect i may have been picked for captain of the guard, but i am not stupid. i know the ways of the kingdom. the third prince, should there be one, becomes captain of the guard, leader of the knights. prince roman has the skills to back the position up, at least. he is the only person who has ever bested me in combat.”

“it sounds like you really like him.”

“i admire and respect him greatly. it pains me to see him like this.”

“i’ll get him to calm down,” patton says. “what was he fighting with logan about?” 

“it is unclear to me, lord sanders, but it distressed him.” 

“you can just call me patton, if you want!”

“that is very kind of you, lord - patton.”

the stone walls of the castle keep it cool, even in the warmth of summer, so patton had chosen a dress with a long skirt made of lighter fabric. the minute he steps foot outside, he can feel himself starting to sweat. claire, wearing training clothes and leather guards, doesn’t seem bothered at all, so patton pretends that he isn’t, either. 

he can hear sounds of exertion before they even reach the arena. patton gathers the fabric of his skirt up into his hands so that it doesn’t drag along the dusty ground as claire opens the gates to the training arena for him. roman is surrounded by a series of training dummies, stuffed with straw and carrying crude replica weapons. roman is shouting and grunting as he throws himself at the training dummies. 

“his strokes are sloppy,” claire says. patton doesn’t know anything about fighting, but he sort of sees what she means. he’s watched roman train before; he usually keeps all his limbs close to his body, watching with narrowed eyes and striking with quick, precise movements in rapid succession. this looks like a hurricane given human form. roman’s limbs flail wildly, his chest is heaving, and his hair is matted with sweat. 

patton hurries across the arena floor. “roman!” 

roman whirls around, holding his sword out, but his arms are shaking and the tip of the blade drops down into the dust. “patton?” he pants. 

“ro, sweetheart, how long have you been out here?” 

“not - not long, i don’t . . .” roman drives the tip of his sword into the arena floor and leans on it heavily. patton lets his skirts fall down around his ankles again as he reaches out to take roman’s arm and help support him. 

“come sit with me, ro, okay? come on. come sit down.” roman doesn’t protest, quietly staggering over to the wooden benches lining the arena. patton moves slowly to allow roman to shuffle along at his side, carefully helping roman sit down. “claire said you’ve been here for hours, ro.” 

roman sighs. “so she sent you to come reign me in?” 

“she sent me out here to ask you to take a break. she’s worried about you. so am i.” 

“i’m just training. that’s my job, patton.”

“you’re destroying yourself,” patton says firmly. “what happened?” 

roman stares off at the horizon. patton doesn’t pressure him to talk, gently leaning his head against his shoulder. after about ten minutes of sitting in silence, roman finally says, “lo and i got in a fight.” 

“a fight?” 

“i went to see father today. we had an agreement with the two of us and thomas that we wouldn’t go see him on our own. he can be a bit . . . intense. and lo and i got into an argument, and . . . he used my full title. he never uses that unless he’s super pissed off. and like, i’m pissed at him too! he was being an asshole! but . . . so was i, i guess . . .”

nate approaches, setting down a pitcher of water, two cups, and a basket of bread and cheese and nuts. roman shoves a hunk of cheese in his mouth as patton pours them both water and nods his thanks to nate. roman downs a glass and a half of water before staring off again, eyes unfocused. 

patton hums, reaching out to set his hand on roman’s knee. “do you wanna talk about it?” 

roman hesitates for a moment, swirling the water in his cup around, and then he does. 

*~*~*~*~*

“are you going to tell me what you’re brooding about?” 

“i do not brood,” logan grouses. 

“are you going to tell me why you’re pouting, then?” 

“i do not pout either.” logan pouts at virgil, who bites his lower lip to keep from laughing. logan continues to pout as he gently picks up a clay teapot and pours virgil another cup of the magic-replenishing tea. virgil wraps his hands around logan’s as he takes the cup, and logan’s face smoothes into a small smile.  

“i . . . had a disagreement with roman, earlier.” 

“i don’t like the way you’re saying disagreement.” 

“he saw our father.” virgil, sitting up to sip at his tea, pauses as logan’s hands ball into fists. 

“how is he?” 

“our father? the same as always. asking about if we’re married yet so he can name thomas crown prince and die already.” virgil winces, and logan sighs. “forgive me, my love. our father . . . he is constantly rushing our lives. he would have had us wed to anyone, regardless of feelings, so that thomas could have his position as crown prince secured. thomas fought for us to have a chance at happiness, hence the ball for roman’s birthday. our father gave in, but he is . . . irritated that we have not yet wed.” 

“would it make things easier if we got married?” virgil says. logan reaches out and takes one of his hands. 

“i am not going to rush you or have roman rush patton because of our father’s succession issues. you are more than a political bargaining chip to me, virgil. you are . . .” logan’s cheeks and ears flush pink, and virgil can’t hide the besotted smile on his face as he watches logan’s gaze fix on a specific point over his shoulder. “you are invaluable to me. you are incredibly precious. i will not have you feeling like a pawn to be manipulated when you are - you are so much more than that to me.” virgil’s gaze slides to the black chess queen, propped neatly on the nightstand where he can see it.

“you’re important to me, too, l.” 

“roman was insinuating that we were irrational for running into battle to save him. he was implying that you are - are stupid or something, that you don’t know things, when without you he would be dead and we would have suffered innumerable casualties! that fool, what was he thinking , he -” 

“you were worried about him,” virgil says. 

“roman is capable. he does not require worrying about, so he likes to say.” logan scoffs.

“you’re his big brother, lo. you were going to worry no matter what happened. i worry about patton no matter what, and i bet thomas worries about you and roman no matter what. that’s just what brothers do.” 

logan pulls his hands into his lap, fidgeting with his fingers. “i . . . suppose i should apologize to him.” 

“hey, if he was being a jackass, he should apologize to you, too.” logan leans in and gently presses a kiss to virgil’s cheek. virgil makes a very undignified squeaking noise that he will deny vehemently to anyone else. 

*~*~*~*~*

“logan?” 

“roman.” 

“i . . . uh . . . ‘m sorry. i didn’t, uh . . . mean to insult virgil, or . . . or imply that he’s stupid. i know his magic takes a lot out of him, and i know he . . . he really used a lot when you guys came to save us. i just . . . i don’t like feeling like the stupid kid brother you all have to chase after, you know?” 

“i find that i owe you an apology as well, roman. i was, perhaps, unnecessarily harsh on you when last we spoke. i felt that someone had to defend virgil’s . . . honor is not quite the right word, but it is the closest i have.” 

“i can take care of myself, you know.” 

“i know, roman. but when virgil burst into the throne room and told us that he had seen you being slain . . . after the truth of his prediction with my horse incident, thomas and i were understandably distraught. we always fear the worst when you ride out into battle, and virgil seemed to be implying that those worst fears would be realized.” 

“i get that. and i . . . i am grateful, for what he did. for what you did.” 

“i know.” 

“father just . . . rattled me.” 

“i confess that i am irked as well. he has been ill for years, and remy is confident that he is not on death’s doorstep despite his illness. there is no reason for him to be so insistent on this marriage. patton and virgil are more than just marriage partners.” 

“i love him, lo. i - even if i didn’t have to, i would want to marry him.” 

“i share the sentiment.” 

“. . . i do love you, lo. even if you’re an annoying big brother sometimes.” 

“and i love you as well, despite your constant annoying younger brother status.” 

“hey!” 

(patton, hiding in the hallway, giggles and scurries off to the hospital wing.)

[rabbitcruiser]

International Tea Day 

While everyone loves a cup of tea, many of the workers and producers of that tea face poor conditions and pay. Help raise awareness and keep tea fair.

The tea industry provides millions of people around the world with cups of tea in the morning. One of the biggest producers of tea, India, recognizes the importance of tea in its communities and as a commodity for commerce.

However, much of the working conditions for those within the tea industry still need much improvement. If you think this holiday was about drinking tea, well think again! International Tea Day is all about the tea workers and bringing civil rights into action. Let’s see how this holiday came to pass.

Do you love a good cup of tea? While International Tea Day can certainly involve paying homage to tea, we should pay homage to those working in the tea industry. The best way to do this is by helping to raise awareness regarding their working conditions so they can be improved.

History of International Tea Day

The International Tea Day campaign was launched in 2005 by the trade unions, small tea growers and civil society organizations in Asia and Africa to address the issues of living wages for workers and fair prices for small tea producers.

The International Tea Conference in New Delhi came out with an International Declaration on the rights of workers and small growers to help regulate uneven competition, land ownership, safety regulations, rights of women, social security and living wages. Another organization, The Tea Board of India, proposed International Tea Day in hopes of it becoming an official holiday to the UN Food and Agriculture Organization.

This was proposed by chairman Santosh Kumar Sarangi in 2015. According to the chairman, the proposal of India was supported by countries such as Canada, the United States, European Union, Sri Lanka, China, Japan, Kenya, and Malawi. While the holiday doesn’t have official status, the goal of this holiday is to recognize the vulnerable situations that tea producers in India have with current living conditions and worker-related policies.

The day also focuses on deliberating on urgent issues such as residues, climate change, technology and trends on production and consumption in the tea industry. To observe this day, over 150 representatives from tea organizations gather and conduct a seminar to discuss the pervading problems the tea industry has as well as problems faced within their own country.

International Tea Day Timeline

2737 BC Tea is discovered as a beverage

Legend has it that Chinese Emperor Shen Nung is sitting beneath a tea tree while a servant boiled water for drinking. Some leaves fall into the cup and begin  the practice of drinking what is now called “tea”.

1610 Tea comes to Europe

It is believed that the Dutch were the first to bring tea to Europe, just a few years prior to the introduction of coffee by Venetians.

1773 The Boston Tea Party occurs

With the intention of revolting against the high taxes levied by the British government without providing any voice, residents of Massachusetts throw tea into the Boston Harbor. “No taxation without representation” is the major complaint.

2004 International Tea Day is created

At the World Social Forum, International Tea Day is conceived and then celebrated the following years in New Delhi and Sri Lanka, then later in other tea-producing places like Nepal, Viet Nam, Bangladesh and others.

2019 United Nations adopts International Tea Day

After some years of advocating for its observance, International Tea Day is adopted by the United Nations General Assembly at the suggestion of the FAO Intergovernmental Group on Tea.

How to Celebrate International Tea Day

If you’re a lover of tea, then do some research about some of your favorite companies. Try looking up tea brands that support fair trade, and possibly switch to those brands to make a difference in the way you buy products such as tea. Use the hashtag #internationalteaday to help recognize it as an official holiday and educate others about the tea industry if you’re interested.

You could also use International Tea Day to try a variety of tea you have never had before. Matcha, for example, is highly popular as of late. You need to shop with care, though! The first thing you need to take a look at is how the Matcha has been produced and sourced.

You need to ensure that all veins and stalks have been removed so that there is not any bitterness and only the finest leaves should be used. Secondly, the color of the matcha powder is a significant factor. The greener the color is, the better. This is because the leaves are forced to overproduce chlorophyll because Matcha is shade-grown, which causes the vibrant green shade.

If the Matcha is yellow or brown in color, this is a sign that the leaves have not been properly shaded or that branches and stalks have been included. The price is the third factor to consider. Like most things, if you want quality, you can expect to pay a little bit more.

If something seems too good to be true, the chances are that it is. The feel of Matcha is also important. It should be a fine powder that is very silky. Last but not least, the taste is obviously a crucial attribute when it comes to quality. It should have a clean and naturally sweet taste.

Why not make some delicious baked green tea treats on International Tea Day and have a bake sale to raise money and awareness regarding working conditions in the tea industry? Green tea recipes are available in their abundance. People are actively searching for different ways to enjoy green tea. While green tea is delicious when simply mixed with hot water, there is nothing wrong with switching it up from time to time, especially on International Tea Day!

An easy and delicious recipe is Matcha Meringue Kisses. To make this you will need Matcha, sugar, egg whites, and powdered sugar. Begin by sifting together the Matcha and the powder sugar, and then whip the egg whites until they have soft peaks. Gradually add the sugar and whip until stiff peaks. Gently fold the Matcha into this mixture and then transfer to a pastry bag. Pipe the mixture into small kisses onto a baking tray and then bake for around an hour.

Or, why not make Green Tea Donuts? For this, you need green tea, honey, melted butter, milk, egg, salt, baking powder, sugar, and cake flour. You whisk the green tea, salt, baking powder, sugar, and flour. Add the honey, melted butter, milk, and egg, and then whisk. Use a pastry bag to pipe the batter into the mould. Then, simply bake the donuts for eight minutes. You can make your own glaze to go on the top – chocolate goes well!

Other delicious baked treats to try include green tea muffins, brownies and shortbread!

International Tea Day FAQs

What is International Tea Day?

Created to celebrate and pay tribute to the countries that produce tea to supply to the world, starting in India and moving to other places like Sri Lanka, Malawi, Uganda, Bangladesh, Vietnam and more.

When was International Tea Day first celebrated?

International Tea Day first got its start in 2004 when it was celebrated in New Delhi. It grew over the years and by 2019 the day was adopted by the United Nations General Assembly.

How to celebrate International Tea Day?

A great way to observe this day is by learning a bit more about the nations who produce tea for the world. Also, don’t forget to order a cup of fair trade tea for one, or take a friend out to enjoy a cuppa together.

What is the theme of International Tea Day?

The theme for this day devoted to tea producers changes each year, but some of the past themes have included themes such as Tea and Fair Trade or Harnessing Benefits for All from Field to Cup.

When is International Tea Day celebrated?

Taking place on May 21 of each year, International Tea Day originally took place on December 15 from 2005 when it was often only celebrated by tea-producing countries. It changed to May 21 when the UN adopted the day.

Source

[jackdawyt]

So, Tevinter Nights released a year ago, and you bet I’m still talking about this magnificent book that’s setting up the future Dragon Age title. For those who haven’t read the book, heavy spoilers are ahead as I rundown each story and the major characters mentioned and introduced in Tevinter Nights.

For those of you who’ve already read the book, well, hopefully I’ve noted and discovered things that, perhaps, you may have missed or forgotten about regarding certain characters in this novel. For the sake of this video’s length, there is an emphasis on major characters, by that, I mean the ones who took centre stage in these stories - appearing most relevant for potential future ties.

With that said, In the book’s chronological order, let’s delve into the many characters that were revealed and mentioned in Tevinter Nights.

“Three Trees to Midnight” by Patrick Weekes

Myrion:

Myrion is a Tevinter mage; not a Magister, from the city Ventus that was recently destroyed during the Qunari Antaam’s invasion in Dragon Age: Deception.  

“Myrion of Ventus didn’t know much about Qunari. Until last week, they had been an annoyance, something young soldiers went off to fight while everyone else grumbled about the taxes they paid to defend the Imperium from the savage ox-men.” (Three Trees to Midnight).

Myrion comes from a slave family, and only became an official Tevinter citizen when he started showing signs of magic, as of which, the owner of the factory where he worked adopted him into his family.  

“I’m not a magister!” Myrion glared, his eyebrows about the only thing Strife could make out in the darkness, then sighed and shook his head. “Magisters come from important families! My family were slaves. I only became a citizen because after my magic came, the owner of the factory where we worked adopted me into his family.” He swallowed. “I’m nobody. You know the glowing lamps in the streets of Ventus? I light those with magic. That’s my job.” (Three Trees to Midnight).

During the Antaam invasion, Myrion was captured by the Qunari and was sent to chop wood for the Qun in the outskirts of the Arlathan forest - while chained to an elven male.

Strife:

Strife is a tall Starkhaven elf with silvery hair and a strong build. He’s at-least fifty years old and has no vallaslin.  

“Then chain me to a man, not this knife-ear,” Myrion said, glaring at the silver-haired elf.” (Three Trees to Midnight).

Strife left the Starkhaven alienage after hitting a guard who was beating elven children, he was living in the woods when the Dalish found him and let him join their clan.

“Hard to believe, I know. I hit a guard who was beating elven children, and he came back with more guards, and I ended up living in the woods. The Dalish found me and let me join up with them. I’ve picked up what I can from them, but . . .” (Three Trees to Midnight).

Strife ended up chained to Myrion, after butting heads, the two prisoners worked together and escaped the Qun’s grasp, they fled into the Arlathan forest and were able to make their way to a Dalish clan with the help of Irelin - Strife’s shapeshifting elf companion.

Irelin:

Irelin is a Dalish shape-shifting mage who saved Strife and Myrion from Qunari imprisonment, and even worse, a potential Qunari lobotomy. Before the Qun were defeated, Strife told her to warn the clans that the Qunari plan on moving into Rivain, she returned later having told the clans, and saved Strife and Myrion. The group then decided to head to their Dalish clan.

“The halla looked at Myrion, his breath heaving and his leg throbbing from the shackle, and then at Strife. Then, with a shimmering sparkle of magic, the halla slid into the form of a young elven woman.” (Three Trees To Midnight).

Saarbrak/The Huntmaster:

The Huntmaster is a Qunari tracker in charge of chasing down and punishing would-be runaway slaves. After he killed one of the Qunari Antaam leader’s known as Bas-taar, the Huntmaster revealed to Myrion and Strife that he's actually Saarbrak of the Ben-Hassrath. He was sent to confirm the rumours about the Antaam in Ventus not acting in accordance with the Qun. After confirming these rumours to be true, he took command of the remaining Qunari, and let Strife, Myrion and Irelin go.

“Now weaponless, the Huntmaster raised his hands, and then, as though they stood at a fancy ball, he placed a hand across his waist and bowed politely, his stoic expression melting into a polite smile beneath the face paint. “I am Saarbrak, of the Ben-Hassrath.” (Three Trees To Midnight).

The Dragon Age Day short story “Ruins of Reality” furthered Three Trees to Midnight’s plot. Set in the Arlathan Forest, Strife witnessed an illusion of himself as powerful magic cursed the forest. Him and Irelin braved the dark magics at play and retrieved a figurine of the elven goddess Ghilan'nain, for whatever purpose.

“Strife was looking at it now. On the other side, so was his double. Both transfixed by a statue of elven goddess Ghilan'nain holding a crystal halla figurine, exactly as the journal described.... Irelin swooped in and snagged the figurine with her talons, tearing it from Ghilan'nain's grip.” (Ruins of Reality).

The short story’s artwork revealed Strife wearing a mysterious cloak with floating triangles that bear similar to the Executor’s logo - “a downward-pointed triangle with two wavy lines drawn through it.”  

So, are Strife and Irelin working for the Executors? Or is something else at play here? Hold on to that thought for the future.

"Down Among the Dead Men” by Sylvia Feketekuty

Guardsman Audric Felhausen:

Audric Felhausen was a Nevarran guardsman before he was killed on duty by Lord Penric Karn's possessed corpse, however, he was brought back to life, caught between two spirits: anger and curiosity. A conflicted Audric awoke inside Nevarra’s Grand Necropolis as the Mortalitasi’s Mourn Watcher’s questioned Audric’s attack and began an inquest into the matter.

“Audric would always remember the moment a withered hand grasped him by the shoulder, and a corpse in jangling gold crunched its teeth into his neck.” (Down Among the Dead Men).

With the help of Mourn Watcher Myrna, one of elite guardians of the Grand Necropolis, Audric decided to confront the Pride Demon who possessed Lord Karn’s corpse. He later discovered that the ‘real’ Audric died during this attack, and he is, indeed, caught between two spirits.

“Guardsman Audric Felhausen died of his wounds after Lord Karn’s funeral.” Myrna sounded apologetic. “His body arose the next morning, and went to his old post. Your captain was at a loss. As you were intestate, she sent you to us to ease your passage.” “I’m not dead,” Audric said as he grabbed at the blade in his chest. “I’m myself. I’m not a spirit, I’m . . . I’m me! (Down Among the Dead Men).

In order to find a balance between anger and curiosity - and to resolve his conflicted nature - Audric faced and challenged the Pride Demon that possessed Lord Penric Karn’s corpse.

“You brought me here to watch me,” he said, quietly bitter. “The Mourn Watch assists both the dead and the living. We wish to help you resolve what you are.” (Down Among the Dead Men).

After Myrna helped Audric defeat the demon, he felt a sad relief, like he had fulfilled his purpose. Myrna offered him a choice - Audric could rest in peace with his death, or work under the auspices of a Watcher. With much excitement, Audric was given the position to be in charge of the Necropolis’s library.

“What position were you thinking?” “I thought it was obvious.” Audric felt a slow excitement as he heard Myrna say: “We have a great need for someone to take charge of the library.” (Down Among the Dead Men).

Mourn Watcher Myrna:

Myrna is a young Mourn Watcher mage with pulled-back hair, she is a guardian and keeper of the Grand Necropolis. It has always been the Mourn Watcher’s responsibility to assists both the dead and the living, and that is why she helped Audric uncover his true nature.

“The younger mage, a woman with pulled-back hair and a severe gaze, sipped her own tea and regarded the guardsman silently.” (…) “Within the Mortalitasi was a group of select mages invited into an old fraternity called the Mourn Watch. The Watchers served as elite guardians, keepers of the Grand Necropolis and its sacred repository of the dead.” (Down Among the Dead Men).

"The Horror of Hormak" by John Epler

Grey Warden Ramesh:

Ramesh is a Senior Grey Warden who’s been with the order for over twenty-three years – with his older age, his calling is almost upon him.

“Twenty-three years Ramesh had been a Warden. His Calling was nearly upon him—and if he’d been alone, if only he had felt the palpable sense of dread that filled the woods, he might have thought it was that. It reached every Warden differently. But Lesha had only been a Warden.” (The Horror of Hormak).

Along with a small rescue party, Ramesh led an exhibition into the Nevarran forest to search and find Senior Warden Jovis and his recently missing group. Jovis, in particular, meant everything to Ramesh at one point, however, the Wardens are called to a higher purpose as death walks with every Warden. Grief is often buried beneath their duty, and it’s easier to do that then care for another with love and friendship.

“Jovis had meant everything to Ramesh once, but he’d pulled away. Death walked with every Warden, and you learned to bury grief beneath duty. Easier to do that, it seemed, before grief ’s edge had been honed by love and friendship.” (The Horror of Hormak).

The Warden’s discovered an entrance to the Deep Roads with the name ‘Hormak’ encased in a Dwarven rune. As they explored the thaig, they unearthed entirely elven ruins filled with twisted, mutilated creatures and a massive pool with a viscous gray fluid. The same symbol of the horns of a halla were repeated on each column.  

“This, however, was exclusively, entirely elven—there were no dwarven works interspersed throughout, not even any sign of the darkspawn that filled so much of the underground. And this chamber was nearly pristine.” (The Horror of Hormak).

Ramesh approached one of the mutilated monsters, it was an enormous centipede that had hundreds of legs and a humanoid face, he recognised its face as a bloated and broken Warden Jovis attached to this diabolical creature.

“Before him, twisted and broken, was Warden Jovis. It was him from the waist up, but bloated, grotesque, and his flesh flowed into that of the massive creature.” (The Horror of Hormak).

Jovis was able to recognise and communicate with Ramesh, even in this state, he told him that ‘they’ made the Warden’s drink from the gray pool, explaining his twisted nature. He added that they can't let "her" have it again and the pool chamber must be destroyed. Jovis lost control as the creature regained itself and took over.

“Ram . . . esh?” The voice came slowly, as if across a great gulf of memory, and possessed of an almost insectile buzz that tore at Ramesh’s tattered nerves.” (…) “Can’t let this out. Got to . . . bury it. Bury me.” The words came even more slowly, each one being forced through whatever will battled Jovis’s for control of the creature. “She cannot have it. Not again. Locked for a reason.” (The Horror of Hormak).

Grey Warden Lesha from Ramesh’s search party sacrificed herself so Ramesh could leave and warn the rest of the Wardens about the horrors witnessed at Hormak. Ramesh reluctantly escaped, remembering that this mountain he’d brought down, encased with all of its nightmares, was not the only one to which the aravels brought their prey. There had been, before the images repeated, eleven others. His task was clear, warn the rest of the Wardens.  

“The rain started to fall—a soft drizzle, the water mixing with the tears that streamed freely down Ramesh’s face. Tears of mourning, of grief. For Lesha. For Jovis. For the rest of the Wardens, whatever doom had taken them.” (The Horror of Hormak).

"Callback" by Lukas Kristjanson

Donal Sutherland & Company:

Last seen in Dragon Age: Inquisition, Donal Sutherland, now a landed knight known as Ser Donal of the Hinters returned to Skyhold with his company to investigate the recent inquiries made by the caretakers about restoring the rotunda’s fresco. Donal’s company included the elven mage mercenary Voth and the human rogue Shayd.

“The three of them had arrived at first light: Ser Donal of the Hinters, Crosscut Brother, namesake of Sutherland’s company; Ser Shayd, Lady of Evesol, bard of secret distinction; and Ser Voth Dale’An, free mage by special commendation.” (Callback).

Upon arrival, the group discovered that Skyhold’s caretakers had been brutally murdered, some dismembered. The culprit of which emerged from the plasters of Solas’s painted mural – a regret demon in the shape of a wolf and dragon.

“What in the—!” yelled Shayd, waking to find a dismembered foot in her lap.” (…) “Regret raised itself unnaturally, its body simply re-forming into a standing position, like a shadow rising without a wall. It looked at Sutherland, but there was no smile this time. It snarled a toothy growl, a sound that—like its shape—was somehow between wolf and dragon. Regret touched the wall, and more plaster from the fresco joined its mass. The wound in its chest remained, but it filled and discolored with new material.”  (Callback).

The demon revealed that it was the regret of a god. The unfinished, final panel of Solas’s fresco revealed an outline of a beast that stood over both dragon and sword. This mural was drafted by Solas to represent his exchange between himself and Mythal after Corypheus was defeated.

“But here, unfinished, was the outline of a beast that stood over both dragon and sword. This was not the battle, or the victory. This was after. And the beast was not a dragon. The outline alone might have allowed that assumption, but now, filling with black and red, it was something other. The creature was reptilian, but also canine. The snout was blunted and toothy, but edges came to a point in houndlike ears. As the mass of plaster filled the shape, it began to rise, revealing scales and tail, and paws with talons. It looked like two figures painted on either side of a pane of glass, then viewed together, their forms confused. A wolf that had absorbed a dragon, and now stood crooked over all.” (Callback).

As Sutherland faced the demon alone, he regretted acting alone and using his friends, as the demon drew closer to Sutherland’s regrets, the rest of the company plus Dagna, Rat, Harritt, Morris, Cabot, and Elan Ve'mal attacked the demon and sent it back to the Fade.

“And then it hit walls made of flames and runes and a half-filled cart. Dagna and the others blocked its escape. They were the little people, who supposedly didn’t matter. But inspiration had once made them the heart of Skyhold. And now they were again. Regret stood no chance. The doubt it fed on had evaporated. It flailed and gasped, and its legs crumbled beneath it.” (Callback).

Their victory was regarded by Divine Victoria herself.

“By order of the Most Holy, Her Divine Victoria, you who have served are to be commended. And though the Herald guides you no more, and legion and name are retired, know that you served good and true. Change comes, both to and because of the Inquisition. And we are blessed with the ability to accept and move on, to leave dread and regret behind.” (Callback).

"Luck in the Gardens" by Sylvia Feketekuty

Hollix:

Hollix is one of the many nicknames of a mysterious Lord of Fortune, a new-faction introduced in Tevinter Nights. The Lords of Fortune are a renowned guild of treasure hunters and dungeoneers based out of Rivain.

“One of the famed Rivaini Lords of Fortune. A guild of treasure hunters and dungeoneers, they specialized in pulling gems from the eyes of statues and, for added cost, protecting the softer people who hired them to do so.” (Genitivi Dies in the End).

Hollix, in particular, is a master of disguise and can pass as, pretty much, anyone when needed with their extensive use of make-up, accents and plenty of outfits.

“I’ve been called many things—a liar, a knave, a scoundrel—even a hero, once or twice. I don’t like being called lucky, though. That comes and goes, and it’s best not to be superstitious about it. “Oh ho! A Lord of Fortune, shunning luck?” Very funny, you wits.” (Luck in the Gardens).

While in Minrathous, Tevinter’s capital city, Hollix was hired by Dorian Pavus, last seen in Dragon Age: Inquisition and Maevaris Tilani who was introduced in Dragon Age: The Silent Grove. The two hired Hollix to hunt down a wicked, tentacled monster that lurked in the city’s gardens. The creature was known as the Cekorax because it beheaded all of its victims.

“Dorian produced a map. It was a wonderful piece of work: crisp letters, bright inks, and a master’s eye for details. “There’s been nine people killed so far, here, here, and here. Each was found decapitated. The criers and balladeers have charmingly dubbed our killer the Cekorax, which is a rather suspect kludging of the old Tevene word for ‘headsman.” (Luck in the Gardens).

A young girl by the name of Mizzy witnessed some of the monster’s attacks. With her help, Hollix, Maev, Dorian and Mizzy headed to the monster’s lair in the sewers of Minrathous.

We digested the picture in silence. “So you didn’t see anything?” I eventually asked. “Not much,” she answered. “But I know how the monster got in the house.” (Luck in the Gardens).

The group lured the Cekorax to the city’s garden as the monster peeled open at the top to reveal a ring of dozens of eyeless heads. It spoke in the voices of its many victims.

“There was a ring of heads. Dozens, not just nine. Their eyes were plucked out, their flesh otherwise whole and healthy. Squeezing tendrils ran inside, caressed the cheeks. A crown of the blind, lovingly carried inside that atrocity. When the Cekorax spoke, their silent mouths formed the dripping words. “Come inside and see.” (Luck in the Gardens).

They killed the monster together as Dorian recalled what the Mortalitasi said about beasts of this nature, that it may be past the Veil of the world, neither demon nor spirit.

“I was at a party with one of those necromancers from down south a while ago. Five cups in, she went on about things ‘past the Veil of our world,’ neither demon nor spirit. Perhaps it wasn’t the tipsy nonsense I assumed it to be.” (Luck in the Gardens).

Hollix extended an invitation to Mizzy, if she ever wanted to join the Lords of Fortune, she’d be more then welcome. Bidding their farewell to Dorian and Maev, Hollix set sail for Rivain.

“I had told Mizzy, she might learn something from the Lords of Fortune in Rivain. “I’ve got loads of aunts and uncles and cousins south of here,” she had said reproachfully. “I’ve got to take care of them now that I’m a rich lady. But when I grow up,” she’d concluded, “maybe I’ll visit. Don’t forget me!” Then she hugged me for a moment, and ran into the crowds and was gone.” (Luck in the Gardens).

"Hunger" by Brianne Battye

Grey Warden Evka Ivo:

Warden Evka is a dwarf born and raised in Orzammar, she is a profound member of House Ivo, one of Orzammar’s many noble houses. She’s been living on the surface as a Grey Warden for three years.

“Warden Evka Ivo had grown up in Orzammar. The dwarven city was what it was: stone floors, stone walls, stone ceilings. It never changed much. Her three years with the Grey Wardens had brought her to the surface and she’d found a lot to love about life aboveground.” (Hunger).

Following orders directly from Fortress Weisshaupt to escort new Grey Warden recruits to the Warden headquarters, Evka and a newly-joined elf Warden called Antoine stop in a supposedly cursed village called Eichweill in the Anderfels. Some of the town-folk had suddenly began disappearing.

“After a hasty recruitment in Orlais, Evka was charged with taking the new recruit to a quiet outpost. They weren’t halfway there when the messenger caught them. The summons called available Wardens to Weisshaupt Fortress, the center of their order, located in the heart of the Anderfels.” (…) “Because Eichweill’s cursed,” Mina said. “That’s what people say. And we’re either too far out or too Maker-damned for folks to bother with our bad luck. Or they show up and die, too.” (Hunger).

The two Wardens agreed to help the villagers uncover the truth. They discovered that a wayward son of a noble who was kicked out of the town for poisoning a Chantry brother, starved in the woods, which attracted a demon of Hunger. The noble’s son was turned into a werewolf and had started infecting the towns-folk. Evka and Antoine defeated the werewolf and saved the town.

Grey Warden Antoine:

Antoine is an elf from Orlais who was recently recruited as a Grey Warden. It was Antoine’s belief in the Order’s heroism that compelled him to help the villagers of Eichweill.

“Antoine held his bow loosely in one hand. This was it. His other hand hung by his side, fingers twitching. Ready. The last and only time he’d fought darkspawn, it hadn’t gone well. He’d barely survived and lay near death for days before the Grey Wardens rescued him. He hadn’t been a Grey Warden then, but he was now. And Grey Wardens stopped the monsters first.” (Hunger).

While unearthing the town’s mystery, Antoine was bitten before the werewolf was slain. However, they killed the werewolf soon after his affliction. Antoine and Evka believed that with the werewolf defeated, the curse of the bite was also dead.

“He grinned. He hadn’t died—they hadn’t died. They had beaten a werewolf and Antoine was still breathing. And Evka was standing very close to him. “We should . . .” “Make sure it’s dead?” Antoine touched his shoulder where Renke had bitten him. Ending the night as a werewolf was not how it was supposed to work.” (Hunger).

Having saved lives and resolving the curse, the Wardens headed for Fortress Weisshaupt, this time with no side-tracking or detours.

“What now?” he asked. “Weisshaupt Fortress?” she said. “The part of being a Warden where we report where we’re supposed to and get told what to do without being sidetracked.” “Bien sûr—on y va! No detours!” His grin said he didn’t believe the last part. She wasn’t sure she did either.” (Hunger).

In the hushed whispers of the village, the hunger demon endured - ready to pray on its next victim.

Small, banished. Powerless. But if it waited, it would sense the knot that twisted its victim. The weakness that followed. The opening. The longing. And just before the blackness fell, when they would do almost anything, it would whisper . . . Are you hungry? (Hunger).

The Dragon Age Day short story “The Next One” revealed Evka’s recruitment to the Grey Wardens.  

Evka was rescued by Warden Lawrence, she was attacked by a blighted creature with two mouths while in the Deep Roads. Lawrence’s perseverance to save Evka was so insistent that he attracted a spirit of Perseverance to keep him fighting despite his fatal wounds. Evka ordered the spirit to release him, and to tell him that she'd save the next one for him.

“The ghouls were dead. “Who are you?” Evka asked, grip tight on the hammer. “A spirit,” it said through Warden Lawrence’s mouth. “I could hear him.” Drawn to the dying, then. After all he’d done... “Release him,” Evka snapped. She wouldn’t leave him like this.” (The Next One).

"Murder by Death Mages" by Caitlin Sullivan Kelly

Sidony:

Last seen in Dragon Age: Inquisition’s multiplayer component, Sidony is a Mortalitasi mage from Nevarra. She voluntarily became an agent of the Inquisition when she witnessed the Breach first-hand, her sole purpose was to research and study Thedas’s biggest magical mystery of the age for her own advancement - nothing and no one will stand in her way of reaching her full potential as a mage.

“And what better way is there to achieve a great understanding of magic, and thus grow more powerful, than to observe the biggest magical mystery of the age?” (WoT. V2).

After Corypheus was defeated, Cassandra Pentaghast instructed Sidony to return to Nevarra City to investigate claims of a Mortalitasi plot that involved assassinating a member of Nevarra’s already unstable line of succession.

“They could not easily overlook claims that a Mortalitasi—one of the influential and highly respected mages charged with tending Nevarra’s dead—was planning to assassinate a member of Nevarra’s already unstable line of succession. Especially when those claims came straight from another Mortalitasi, one that Sidony once knew.” (Murder by Death Mages).

Reluctantly, considering her hatred for her home country, Sidony agreed to this assignment and headed to Nevarra City. She was handpicked by Cassandra because of her intimate knowledge of the Mortalitasi.

“None of the other Nevarrans have your intimate knowledge of the Mortalitasi,” Pentaghast reminded her.” (Murder by Death Mages).

Upon arrival, Sydony attempted to make contact with her previous mentor, Lord Henrik, the one responsible for warning the Inquisition regarding this plot in the first place. However, Sydony found his lifeless body in a city alleyway.

“The more she looked at them, the more they twisted and contorted until all she could see was the vacant face of Henrik’s lifeless body.” (Murder by Death Mages).

With her former mentor dead, Sidony contacted Antonia, a Mortalitasi mage who Sidony met as a child. Antonia told her to head to a party hosted by Nicolas Reinhardt, a minor family, but one of the oldest in Nevarra. Nicolas, in particular, enjoyed shouting accusations that the death mages were ruling the kingdom through manipulation.

“House Reinhardt: a minor family, but one of the oldest in Nevarra.” (…) A man drunk enough—or stupid enough—to shout accusations that the death mages were ruling the kingdom through manipulation was a man who might let slip rumors about a Mortalitasi assassin’s plan to remove a noble from play . . . if he wasn’t a target himself.” (Murder by Death Mages).

At the party, Sydony made acquaintances with Cyrros, a very dapper elf who’s accepted among many members of the Nevarran elite considering he knows everyone’s dirty secrets and scandals. After more nobles were killed, Cyrros and Sidony decided to work together to find the assassin.

“An elf in such finery, mocking and touching a member of old Nevarran nobility, and no one batting an eye—this was someone welcomed with open arms and stacks of gold in circles fueled by secrets and scandal.” (Murder by Death Mages).

Lady Reinhardt, Nicolas Reinhardt’s wife was killed as both Cyrros and Sidony stood over her deceased body. Nicolas walked in to see the two over his dead wife and believed they had killed her. He shouted at Cyrros and claimed that he hired him to kill his rivals and blame the Mortalitasi for their deaths, not to employ a death mage and kill his wife.

“What would you have me believe?” Reinhardt roared. “I hired you to kill my rivals and take the Mortalitasi down with them, and now I find my wife slain by the assassin I employed—and one of the damn death mages herself!” (Murder by Death Mages).

After Cyrros explained that someone must’ve killed Nicholas’s wife before they arrived, Sydony, frustrated at Nicholas’s attempt to blame the Mortalitasi for these deaths, killed Nicholas and Cyrros.

“She thrust her arm forward, tearing away her bonds, flinging the siphoning spell and hitting him square in the chest. The skin on his extremities turned dark purple, then black, as the curse drained the very life from his body.” (Murder by Death Mages).

Sidony returned to the Grand Necropolis to attend Lord Henrik’s funeral, she spoke with Antonia who revealed that she was the one who killed Henrik and Reinhardt's wife in an attempt to give the Mortalitasi control over the Nevarran elite. She used Sydony to expose the corruption of the elite, so the Mortalitasi could rule without question.

“So many people tell me they’re ready for change, for the kingdom to be taken in a new direction, without the uncertainty of the old royal blood and their constant struggles for control. With the line of succession in such disarray, maybe it’s time for the Mortalitasi to intervene . . .” (Murder by Death Mages).

Sidony killed Antonia for murdering Lord Henrik, and later returned to Cassandra Pentaghast having dealt with this Mortalitasi assassination plot.

“And in the time it would take for someone to discover the Mortalitasi’s body, Sidony would be too far from Nevarra City to hear their screams. They had met in an alley, and in an alley, they would part.” (Murder by Death Mages).

"The Streets of Minrathous" by Brianne Battye

Neve Gallus:

Neve Gallus is a human private investigator set up in the streets of Tevinter’s capital city, Minrathous. She is a mage and has a single dwarven-crafted prosthetic leg.

“My one leg may be dwarven-crafted metal below the knee, but that doesn’t keep me out of a chase.” (…) “I channeled a bit of magic, ready for whatever he planned to do, then let it fade back.” (The Streets of Minrathous).

Neve accepted a contract by a man called Otho Calla who wanted her to tail and pursue his nephew, Quentin Calla, to see if he was secretly working with the Venatori. She witnessed Qunetin assassinated in an alleyway by a figure in white and beige robes with a full-face mask of polished bronze. The figure escaped the scene by using blood magic and reflecting one of Neve’s spells onto herself.

“A figure in white and beige robes approached from the shadows.” (…) “The figure that stepped into the light wore a full-face mask of polished bronze.” (The Streets of Minrathous).

Before Quentin perished, he told Neve that It was ‘almost the hour’. Neve returned to Otho Calla and informed him of his nephew’s death.

“It’s almost the Hour,” Quentin said. The words sounded forced, as if they pained him more than the knife. His hand sank back. (The Streets of Minrathous).

She reported the crime to Knight-Templar Rana Sava and the rest of the Templars who shared that Quentin Calla wasn’t the only one who was ominously murdered last night, Lady Varantus was also killed, uncoincidentally another person with connections to the Venatori. Both Calla and Varantus had brutal neck marks as if necklaces were forcibly removed from their bodies.

“No,” Rana agreed. “A person in a bronze mask was seen in the street. The timing works out.” (…) “A thin line of bruising arced across the exposed skin, suggesting a fine chain once sat there—one that had been forcibly removed. I bet Quentin Calla had the same marks.” (The Streets of Minrathous).

To inquire about the necklace’s stolen, Neve met up with a con artist she’d turned in the year prior. His name was Elek Tavor – the two met in a tavern called the Lamplighter. Elek confirmed that Quentin Calla was looking for quiet ways to leave the city, perhaps connected to the antislavery movement, or even for himself - he knew something bad was about to happen and made plans to leave.

“I don’t know who Calla thought he was meeting at the docks,” Elek continued, “but I know why. He turned up a few times, asking about false papers, places to buy horses or hire a boat with no one noticing. That sort of thing.” (…) “The way he’d toyed at the chain around his neck . . . he’d known something was coming.” (The Streets of Minrathous).

Neve left the tavern, and was ushered by a strange, robed Tevinter man with bloodshot eyes who inquired about Calla and Varantus’s deaths, explaining that another was killed last week - someone by the name of Paxus. He shared further that the assassin was called Aelia, and she took round clay discs that were encased in necklaces from their bodies. He then gave Neve one of the discs so she could inspect it for herself.

“The man shook his head. “Paxus was killed last week. No one noticed that one. Well, almost no one.” “This Paxus. Venatori?” I asked.” (…) “Do you want to know what Aelia took?” He’d changed tacks again, this time emphasizing the new direction by shoving a round clay disc into my hands, although he kept hold of the chain attached to it. “Aelia’s the one who killed them?” (The Streets of Minrathous).

As Neve continued her investigation and reported her findings with the Templars, she was attacked by the Venatori cultist Aelia in-between narrow streets of the city’s lower market. Aelia drained power from Neve to unfold the necklace’s enchantment, and fled the scene with parts of the necklace having almost killed Neve.

“Our lives for the glory of Tevinter reborn.” “You’re Venatori,” I said. “Why—?” “Minrathous has forgotten its way,” Aelia said. “It falls to us to put it right. To make it rise.” (The Streets of Minrathous).

With the help of Flavian Bataris, Neve uncovered that the Venatori planned on unleashing a demon that dwelled below the city. The eight necklaces were blood-bound between members of the Venatori, they would be used to free the demon from its prison, restoring Minrathous to the Tevinter Corypheus promised. However, Calla, Varantus and Paxus refused to give their necklaces, thus explaining their deaths.

“Not like this,” Flavian said. “I’m not even sure demon’s the right word. It’s something only a god could summon.” At the look on my face, he added: “If not a god, Corypheus was close enough.” (...) “And the plan was as well. Until Aelia took over. The Venatori still want the Tevinter Corypheus promised, whether he’s around for it or not. All she needed were the seals.” (The Streets of Minrathous).

Neve faced Aelia and her Venatori alone in the city’s catacombs until Knight-Templar Rana Sava and the rest of the Templars joined the fight. They stopped the summoning ritual and Aelia was incarcerated. Minrathous, for the moment, was safe from the evil clutches of the Venatori.

“Minrathous is broken,” Aelia spat at me. “I know,” I said. “But you aren’t the one to fix it.” I left Aelia to the templars. I wanted sleep more than anything, but there was one more stop I had to make.” (The Streets of Minrathous).

Neve returned to Otho Calla and told him that his nephew had left the Venatori, so he could treasure Quentin’s memory. She then walked away back into the streets of Minrathous.

“For what it’s worth, you weren’t wrong to give Quentin a second chance,” I said. “He’d left the Venatori. There’s nothing ‘unsavory’ in his last days either.” (…) “I don’t know,” I said and walked away.” (The Streets of Minrathous).

"The Wigmaker Job" by Courtney Woods

Lucanis Dellamorte:

Master Assassin of the Antivan Crows, Lucanis Dellamorte is the favourite grandson of Caterina Dellamorte - the First Talon. As of which, Lucanis is the heir to the First Talon of the Crows considering he’s Caterina’s favourite. But we’ll talk more about that later on, when we get to the story - Eight Little Talons.

“For years, he’d hated her. But his time as a Master Assassin had since taught Lucanis that Caterina’s cruelty was her way of making sure that he was prepared for this life—that he survived.” (The Wigmaker Job).

Lucanis is lean with dark hair and umber eyes, he’s focused and intense. The kind of man you couldn’t look away from—until he looked at you.

“Both men were lean with dark hair and umber eyes.” (…) “While Lucanis stared ahead, focused and intense. He was the kind of man you couldn’t look away from—until he looked at you.” (The Wigmaker Job).

Along with his cousin Illario Dellamorte, the two Crows were on their way to the Tevinter city, Vyrantium, both contracted to assassinate Ambrose Forfex, Tevinter’s premiere wigmaker and high-ranking Venatori blood mage.

“Ambrose threw down the matted mess. “Lucanis Dellamorte, I presume?” “Sì,” Lucanis answered, knowing even a single syllable of a foreign language would disgust the Wigmaker. It had the desired effect—Ambrose recoiled as if he’d stepped in urine. “Is this your handiwork?” “Sì.” (The Wigmaker Job).

Disgusted with Ambrose’s method of feeding slaves red lyruim to create wigs, Lucanis and Illario executed Ambrose, freed the slaves, and destroyed an elven artefact that allowed spirits of vengeance that once lingered to return to the Fade.

“It was Ambrose’s turn to laugh. “I thought a Crow could stomach anything—for the right price.” Lucanis leveled the Wigmaker with a pointed look. “Not red lyrium.” (The Wigmaker Job).

After fulfilling this contract, and stacking up to around 40 deaths, Lucanis was known by the rest of the Venatori as ‘the demon.’

“Lucanis Dellamorte is responsible.” Crispin licked his lips. “We won’t be able to keep this one from the public.” He and Felicia exchanged a nervous glance. “They’re already calling him ‘the Demon.” (The Wigmaker Job).

The two cousins spoke about Lucanis becoming the First Talon, however, Lucanis didn’t believe that, and instead wanted Illario to become the First Talon.

“Even if it kills you,” Illario whispered. “Death is my calling,” Lucanis stated, matter-of-fact. “Just as yours is to become First Talon.” (The Wigmaker Job).

Illario Dellamorte:

Like his cousin, Illario is a Master Assassin of the Antivan Crows, as well as one of Caterina Dellamorte’s grandsons. He’s lean with dark hair and umber eyes, however, Illario is all smiles. He’s got a calculated handsomeness from his smooth skin to his perfect, white teeth. And, according to Lucanis, Illario has a silver tongue. Illario would love to be the First Talon, he believes it’s his calling however, that is not his call to make. Only Caterina Dellamorte can decide who takes her place.

“Both men were lean with dark hair and umber eyes. Illario was all smiles. His was a calculated handsomeness. From his smooth skin to his perfect, white teeth, everything was contrived to be enticing. As they walked through the crowd, he basked in the appreciative glances he received.” (…) “My talents lie elsewhere,” Lucanis said, gesturing toward the arsenal around him. “You’re the one with the silver tongue.” (The Wigmaker Job).

Magister Zara Renata:

Venatori Maleficar Zara Renata is a Magister of the Imperium who seeks the death of Lucanis Dellamorte along with her Venatori agents, Crispin Kavlo and the sister of Livius Erimond, Felicia Erimond. They plan to exploit everyone of Lucanis’s flaws until ‘the demon’ is defeated.

“Freeing Ambrose’s slaves already tells us this Crow has a heart. He will reveal other flaws. And we will exploit every last one of them.” (The Wigmaker Job).

"Genitivi Dies in the End" by Lukas Kristjanson

Brother Genitivi:

Last witnessed in Dragon Age: Origins, however, his literature has spread throughout Thedas in all games, infamous Chantry scholar brother Ferdinand Genitivi gathered legendary scholars Philliam, a Bard and Sister Laudine together to write a manuscript about their experience finding the true history of the elven pantheon. Each writer used a pseudonym to protect themselves from the Qunari Antaam.

“You want me to find the true history of the elven pantheon, in a piece of a library that doesn’t exist, beneath the Imperium, deeper than the Deep Roads?” Philliam tossed the scroll back to his publisher. “I don’t do fiction.” His host started to laugh, and then didn’t.” (Genitivi Dies in the End).

Philliam, a Bard!:

Philliam Bernard Aloicious Trevelyan, more commonly known as Philliam a Bard is a Free Marcher known for plenty of literature spread throughout Thedas. However, Brother Genitivi thinks Philliam is a thief considering he reduced his five hundred-and thirty-six-page book to a twenty-page collection of cautionary-yet-enticing executions.

“Philliam knew the name before he felt the sting. Five hundred and thirty-six pages of leather-bound Ferelden heraldic history—not including epigraphs and appendices—slapped across his face. It was a book he’d reduced to a twenty-page collection of cautionary-yet-enticing executions. “Thief!” yelled Brother Ferdinand Genitivi, honoured Chantry scholar and respected historian, on the eve of the longest—and last—month of their lives.” (Genitivi Dies in the End).

Sister Laudine:

Formerly a sister of the Chantry, Laudine is a young writer in her late twenties with long blonde hair. She has published many works, particularly about Orlais which have been officially denounced by the Chantry.

“Formerly Sister Laudine, ex of the Chantry, documenter of all things sensual and denied in otherwise falsely prim Orlais.” (Genitivi Dies in the End).

The three scholars ventured on an expedition that took them to the Silent Plains with the help of a hired Lord of Fortune.

Mateo:

Mateo is a Lord of Fortune, he’s a broad-shouldered man covered with many trinkets that he’s discovered throughout his years. He has a genuine appreciation for history, because of which he was hired for Genitivi’s expedition as a driver and delver.

“Their hired driver and delver was a broad-shouldered man called Mateo, one of the famed Rivaini Lords of Fortune.” (…) “The Lords wore their expertise, and the sash around Mateo’s waist was heavy with ancient coins and other trinkets from beneath the plains. He had a genuine appreciation for history, but didn’t claim to know the works of his current charges. Which, all things considered, probably made him the best fit for the expedition.” (Genitivi Dies in the End).

Rasaan:

Tamassran Rasaan was last seen in Dragon Age: Those Who Speak, as a female priest of the Qun, Rasaan’s role has been to determine what is done with captives of the Qun, she will interpret the Qun with regards to how it applies to those outside of it. Rasaan has served directly under the Ariqun and was long ago chosen as the Ariqun’s eventual successor by the rest of the priesthood.  

Recently, Rasaan has taken great interest in Fen’Harel and his scheme, as of which, she led the Qunari Antaam unofficially In Tevinter to search for Fen’Harel’s true name. This has been an unsanctioned operation considering the Arishok is the only member of the Qun who leads the Antaam.

“Fen Harel,” she lectured, “is a name given by enemies. Its translation, ‘Dread Wolf,’ isn’t true.” She turned, considering one of the tomes now piled on the slab. “The name given when he lied to us—and to your Inquisition—was chosen by a self-styled martyr. ‘Solas’ is also not true.” (Genitivi Dies in the End).

Therefore, Rasaan revealed to Brother Genitivi that “her” Antaam are in Tevinter unofficially.

“Rasaan stopped him with a raised index finger. “I know your work,” she said. She knelt again, her eyes dead-straight with his. “My Antaam are in Tevinter as officially as you are. Does that change your tone?” (Genitivi Dies in the End).

Rasaan uncovered that Fen’Harel’s true name isn’t Solas, but actually Pride. With this true name, she could track the best and worst of him, find flaws, exploit weaknesses and know what he had failed to be. Rasaan believed that there is no greater advantage than to know an enemy’s true name.

“With this “true name.” You could track a person back through the best and worst of themselves. Find flaws. Exploit weaknesses. Know what they had failed to be.” (Genitivi Dies in the End).

And so, Rasaan’s quest continues to uncover Fen’Harel’s scheme while hunting Genetivi, Laudine and Philliam a Bard!

"Herold Had the Plan" by Ryan Cormier

Bharv:

Bharv is a Dwarven Lord of Fortune. He has spent decades of his life as a treasure hunter, consequently, he has a lot of long scars over his body, and a crooked back. Be that as it may, Bharv enjoys the life of a Lord of Fortune, it has provided all the thrills he’s ever craved.

“The dwarf clawed back up to the dry riverbank and looked around.” (…) “The Lords of Fortune provided all the thrills he craved, but decades in their service left him with long scars and a crooked back.” (…) “Still, despite the pain, he’d always slept better as a Lord of Fortune than as a creeping thief in his younger years. Through decades of treasure hunting.” (Herold Had the Plan).

After a botched robbery job at the Grand Tourney went sideways, Bharv and his elven Lord of Fortune companion, Elim, fled into Starkhaven’s forest. Herold, Bharv’s partner, was killed during the escape. However, they were able to successfully retrieve their target – a powerful and ancient amulet.

“They’d recovered the amulet from the lockbox at the Grand Tourney like sneaking the sugarcake from a child’s lunch. No one spotted them. No one at the tournament even sneered in their direction.” (...) “Bharv shrugged. He was told it was ancient and powerful. That was all he needed to know.” (Herold Had the Plan).

The two Lord of Fortune’s located Panzstott, their hired guard from Tantervale. The Tournament knights caught up and surrounded the group, they claimed that one of them had stolen the Celebrant – the legendary greatsword granted to the winner of the Grand Tourney. Panzstott had stolen the blade on behalf of Lady Lucie, in exchange, Lucie would help find Panzstott’s sister who was headed to the Anderfels to become a Grey Warden.

“We only want the sword.” It was a man’s voice calling. “Though we will take your thieving lives all the same.” (…) “Never.” Even Panzstott’s voice was different. “It’s what Lady Lucie wants. It’s not yours. You got your thing, I got mine. All square.” (…) “Lady Lucie, yes. She’s sure my sister might be found. Says so all the time.” (…) “Lady Lucie says she can find anyone. Her husband is also a warden.” (Herold Had the Plan).

After a rambunctious fight, Panzstotts was killed, Bharv and Elim were fatally wounded, the knights retrieved the Celebrant and Lady Lucie was imprisoned. Bharv only survived death because he wore the mysterious amulet that restored his wounds, however, Elim was killed.

“Collect the sword,” the captain said. “Bind the widow’s hands.” “The thieves, Captain?” The captain clucked disgustedly as he considered the question. “Leave them to die.”  (Herold Had the Plan).

Having picked himself up, Bharv made his way to the nearest village downriver, to the place where Herold used to get drunk. He handed a very familiar elven squire the amulet and finished the job.

Vaea:

Introduced in Dragon Age: Knight Errant, Vaea is a Ferelden elven rogue who serves Ser Aaron as his elven squire. Bharv’s partner, Herold had contacted Vaea specifically to take the amulet to Northern Tevinter. Accompanied by Ser Aaron, the two toasted to Herold’s memory with Bharv before setting out on their next adventure.

“Vaea nodded. “He contacted me and said a job of his had turned into a charity run. Asked me to bring the amulet back north with me, to Tevinter. The chaos there has left many in desperate need, a lot of families torn up. He said you’d understand.” (Herold Had the Plan).

"An Old Crow's Old Tricks" by Arone Le Bray

Lessef/”Old Nan”:

Lessef is an old member of the Antivan Crows. She has a kind and wrinkled face, and her eyes are of someone who has lived a long life.

“Kind and wrinkled in the corners. They were the eyes of someone who has lived a long life.” (…) “Lessef of the Antivan Crows has fulfilled the contract.” (An Old Crow's Old Tricks).

In the middle of the Tevinter Imperium; over the Nocen Sea, Lessef made herself known as “Old Nan”, a trading merchant who was known for selling fine wares. However, her actual intention was to fulfil an assassination contract on the Tevinter centuri who recently murdered Dalish children for control of resources in the area. Tevinter solider Chencel had chased down and killed a twelve-year-old Dalish boy under the order of Magister Bicklius, the Oranavra clan purchased Lessef to kill the remaining centuri, as of which, Lessef tricked and suffocated Chencel with a scarf made of halla leather.

“Chencel remembered. On their way to set up camp here, the centuri had encountered some Dalish children from an aravel. Her centurion, Magister Bicklius, ordered the whole group wiped out so that the centuri would have no competition for resources in the area. Chencel had to catch the child who started to run, so that he would not warn the rest. “His mother called him Sil. He was twelve. You held him under the water.” Chencel still struggled, but the older woman’s grip was too strong. “Did he fight back? While his breath left him, and you held his shoulders to keep him still, did he thrash? Kick? Try to scratch or bite?” The soldier’s arms started to go limp. “Did you know that the Oranavra clan also sold their goods? They even made enough to purchase a contract from the Antivan Crows.” (An Old Crow's Old Tricks).

As the Tevinter centuri discovered an Antivan Crow was in the midst, Lessef assassinated Magister Bicklius. She evaded the rest of the army by having Tainsley, her seven-foot, elf-blooded human servant, dress up and pretend to be a Qunari.

“Reaching his full seven-foot height, he stretched his arms and legs, kneading the muscles with his aged hands to start the blood flowing again.” (…) “He knew he might look like a monstrous apparition, seven feet tall and wrapped in wiry, taut muscles, but he still felt every bit of his seventy-six years weighing him down.” (An Old Crow's Old Tricks).

The Tevinter soldiers retreated as Lessef and Tainsley celebrated by eating cookies, revelling in their victory having redeemed the Oranavra clan.

“Onward, to cookies!” (…) “Thanks to his mistress, his uncle’s clan would at least have their halla statue back.” (An Old Crow's Old Tricks).

"Eight Little Talons" by Courtney Woods

Caterina Dellamorte:

First Talon of the Antivan Crows, Caterina Dellamorte leads the Antivan Crows. She has silver-white hair swept up into a bun and an impressive collection of rubies hanging from her ears and neck.

“Her silver-white hair swept up into a bun to divert attention to the impressive collection of rubies hanging from her ears and neck.” (Eight Little Talons).

Her two grandchildren are Lucanis and Illario Dellamorte, however, Lucanis is her favourite – she intends on promoting him to First Talon when it’s his time.

Caterina Dellamorte called for a summit and invited each of the eight Antivan Crow Talons together in one location to discuss the impending Qunari threat. The summit was held in a villa on an island at the centre of the lake called the Verdant Isle.

“To that end, First Talon Caterina Dellamorte insisted her colleagues put aside their differences and attend a summit to concoct a plan of action.” (…) “The summit would be held in a villa on an island at the center of the lake called the Verdant Isle.” (Eight Little Talons).

Dante Balazar:

Second Talon Dante Balazar was eliminated and betrayed by Emil Kortez, the fourth Talon.

“That you were right. Dante was poisoned—with the Quiet Night.” (Eight Little Talons).

Lera Valisti:

Third Talon Lera Valisti was also eliminated by Emil Kortez.

“We know Lera died before dinner, but after her argument with Dante in the garden.” (Eight Little Talons).

Emil Kortez:

Fourth Talon Emil Kortez decided to betray the Antivan Crows. He stuck up a ‘peaceful’ deal with the Qun, Kortez agreed to eliminate all the other seven Talons with the assumption that the Qunari would honour their deal and occupy a peaceful conquest of Antiva and its people. As a trade-off, the Kortez family would be the only house leading the Antivan Crows.

With this machination in play, Kortez killed the second, third and eighth Talon before Viago, Teia and the rest of the Talons unmasked Kortez’s conniving plot, and then defeated their brethren.

“Emil squared his shoulders. “The Qunari are many things—brutal, rigid, merciless warriors—but they are also honorable.” (…) “Under one Talon, we might actually get something done.” (…) “Following Teia’s lead, Viago, Bolivar, and Caterina all raised their blades. The steel glinted in the fire’s light.” (Eight Little Talons).

Viago De Riva:

Last seen in Dragon Age: Deception, Fifth Talon Viago De Riva helped thwart Emil Kortez’s scheme. Viago and Andarateia have since headed to Antiva City to inform the royals of Antiva in preparation for the Qunari war. The Crows also plan to recruit more Talons for their ranks, as they just lost four leaders thanks to Kortez’s scheme.

“To brief His Royal Fatherliness?” She balanced the stick on the tip of her boot. He reached for it. “Why are you asking?” With a kick, she flung the stick onto her other foot. “To see if you had a place to stay.” (Eight Little Talons).

Bolivar Nero:

Sixth Talon Bolivar Nero helped the rest of the Talons against Emil, after killing him, Bolivar was the first to leave the scene. Viago believed it was for the best, Bolivar didn’t have much to offer the war effort.

“Bolivar refused to speak to anyone. He simply grabbed a bottle of wine and barricaded himself in his room until the boats arrived. Viago thought it was for the best. Bolivar didn’t have much to offer the war effort.” (Eight Little Talons).

Andarateia Cantori:

Last seen in Dragon Age: Deception, Seventh Talon Andarateia Cantori, otherwise known as Teia helped uncover Emil’s scheme alongside Viago. She’s since headed to Antiva City with Viago to warn the Antivan nobles and recruit more Talons.

“Is that an invitation?” “Is that a yes?” He reached out again. This time, she let him have the walking stick, but held on to the end. Viago drew her close, until they were a breath apart. “It’s a definite maybe,” he murmured. Teia beamed up at him. “My favorite answer.” (Eight Little Talons).

Giuli Arainai:

Eighth Talon, Giuli Arainai was eliminated by Emil Kortez.

“Dead,” Bolivar spat. “Like Dante and Giuli and Lera—and us if we don’t leave this cursed place.” (Eight Little Talons).

Since Kortez’s agreement was foiled, the Qunari are heading to Antiva with a full invasion in mind after their ‘peaceful’ contract went sour. Should the Qunari decide to attack, the assassins must present a unified force.

The Dragon Age Day short story “The Wake” furthered Eight Little Talon’s plot.

Illario Dellamorte, Viago De Riva and Teia Cantori mourned the loss of Lucanis Dellamorte, the heir to the First Talon.

For reasons unknown, Lucanis has mysteriously died, perhaps the Venatori Maleficar Zara Renata discovered his flaws and murdered him, or perhaps Lucanis is pretending to be dead. Regardless, it seems the next heir to the First Talon is Illario Dellamorte, if Lucanis is truly died.

“He was my cousin, but we were more like brothers, really. Always getting himself into every sort of trouble. And I was always right behind him, you know? Always.” Illario’s voice suddenly grew thick with emotion. “Now there’s nobody for me to follow.” (The Wake).

"Half Up Front" by John Epler

Vadis:

Vadis is a former Tevinter Altus, she left her life of nobility behind to peruse a romantic relationship with Irian Cestes, her father’s elven servant. Vadis has since built a reputation as a crafty thief.

“Altus, not magister. I’d never been a magister—my father filled that seat for our family. And I’d left the nobility behind, so even altus was past tense. “My one rule is no names. You don’t know a damned thing about me.” She arched an eyebrow. “The disgraced daughter of Magister Mareno Vadis. Lover of an elven servant.” (Half Up Front).

In Minrathous, Vadis was hired by a mysterious elven lady to find and steal a relic called “Dumat’s Folly” - supposedly it was a piece of the Black City itself.

“Then you know the significance of Dumat’s Folly.” She gestured at the rubbing I held in front of me. So that’s what it was. “Supposed to be a piece of the Black City itself. A ‘reminder of man’s hubris, and of the unique and glorious divinity of the Maker.’” I snorted. “Seems like a bunch of nug shit to me.” (Half Up Front).

Together, Irian and Vadis infiltrated the Archon’s palace, they discovered a centre case where “Dumat’s Folly” had been, however, until recently, the glass display was empty. They found large footprints and a blood trail that led down a tunnel with Qunari Ben-Hassrath instructions regarding the relic. They pressed on through the tunnel and found a fake model of “Dumat’s Folly” believing that the Qunari had the real relic.

“The center case where Dumat’s Folly had, until recently, sat was empty. The glass in its display case was missing.” (…) “It’s orders—well, instructions. Ben-Hassrath. Locations and names are in code, but it’s telling them to get the item and return home. Not to be seen either.” (…) “I nodded. “The Qunari have the real one.” (Half Up Front).

The pair headed to the Qunari’s new Darvaarad, a ship headed to Rivain. Vadis uncovered the real “Dumat’s Folly” on deck, when suddenly her patron, the mysterious elven lady revealed herself. She approached from the shadows and claimed to be an agent of Fen'Harel.

“I opened the crate. Dumat’s Folly. I smiled. All right. I reached into my satchel and pulled out the rune that my client had given me. I wanted to make sure the artifact was the real thing before I took it back—not that I had any reason to believe otherwise, but I’d promised my client I’d verify first. I moved the rune toward the object and it started to vibrate, to glow.” (Half Up Front).

She declared that she acted freely for the Dread Wolf, to bring back what was once theirs, and what must be theirs again. She wore a simple robe embroidered with an unknown symbol. Her plan was to trick and frame Vadis into stealing a powerful and dangerous artefact that was integral to Fen'Harel's plans.

"The agent replies that she acts "freely. For the Dread Wolf. To bring back what was once ours—what must be ours again.” (…) “One of our agents spoke of Dumat’s Folly. Suggested it was an artifact of great power and danger, integral to Fen’Harel’s plans.” (…) “She’d traded her thick winter clothing for a simple robe, embroidered with an unknown symbol." (Half Up Front).

This relic was in-actuality a magical bomb, that was supposed to be used by Vadis, destroying the Qunari’s Darvaarad. This would’ve created a calamity feud between the Qunari Ben-Hassrath and Tevinter kinsman, if each party had discovered that an Altus thief attacked Qunari lands using this bomb, it would cause immediate chaos for all of Thedas.

“It is an ingenious device. Not a piece of the Black City, like the true Dumat’s Folly, but taken from the same time. It draws magic into itself.” “A Tevinter altus, striking at a Qunari settlement that had yet to enter hostilities? Ben- Hassrath wouldn’t be able to sit the war out anymore. Utter and complete chaos.” I felt nauseous. What I’d almost done, almost been responsible for. (Half Up Front).

Fortunately, this wasn’t the case, the Agent of Fen’Harel committed suicide to avoid future interrogations. Vadis used magic and forced the Darvaarad out to the sea where it exploded, with few casualties. One of the Qunari Ben-Hassrath agent’s took Vadis and Irian to a tavern in Kont-aar.

“I thought I could see the dreadnought, the burning deck a distant speck on the horizon. A moment passed. Another. And suddenly, a flash of light, a second sun on the horizon.” (Half Up Front).

Gatt:

Last seen in Dragon Age: Inquisition, Gatt is an elven agent of the Qunari Ben-Hassrath, he shared the Qun’s knowledge on the agent of Fen’Harel’s scheme with Vadis and Irian. He then asked that if they wanted revenge against the Dread Wolf, they should seek a dwarf in Kirkwall, because he will want to hear what they’ve got to say about the agents of Fen’Harel, even more than that, he’ll have work for the two of them.

“You cannot stay with us. Nor, I imagine, would you want to. But we have other allies. A dwarf in Kirkwall. He will want to hear what you have to say about the enemy. And more than that, he will have work for you. Something more than survival—a chance to strike back. A chance to matter.” (Half Up Front).

Vadis and Irian decided to head to Kirkwall, but first, took a stop to see Val Royeaux together for the first time.

“We’ll go to Kirkwall. Eventually.” I looked at Irian again and my smile widened. “But first, any chance we can go to Val Royeaux? (Half Up Front).

"Dread Wolf Take You" by Patrick Weekes

Charter:

Last seen in Dragon Age: Inquisition, Charter is an elven agent of the Inquisition who worked very closely within Leliana’s spy network.

In Hunter Fell, Nevarra at a tavern called “The Teahouse” (the same name as my private Discord server that you can join if you become a channel member). Charter invited the best spies in Thedas for a roundhouse meeting to discuss the Dread Wolf and his scheme.

A Carta Assassin, Orlesian Bard, Mortalitasi Mage, and an Executor Agent presented themselves at Charter’s summit. The Tevinter Siccari and the Qunari Ben-Hassrath both declined their attendance at this meeting.

“The lamps were dim and the walls bare of both windows and any painting where a peephole might have been concealed, but a fireplace against the wall crackled merrily, and seated around the fire in comfortable overstuffed chairs were four figures.” (…) “As did the Ben- Hassrath.” She grimaced. “The latter is especially disappointing. They had more knowledge of Solas’s movements than anyone else.” (The Dread Wolf Take You).

As each faction-representative shared their slightly fabricated perspectives on the Dread Wolf and his red lyrium idol, the group grew tired of each other’s white lies and false truths, they began to argue until their truths were finally revealed. By which point, the Orlesian Bard had already killed the Executor before they could share their insights. The Bard then froze the Mortalitasi Mage and the Carta Assassin, he took off his mask and revealed himself as Solas.

“That’s a good story,” the Assassin said, cutting into the silence, “but I’d rather hear the truth.” (…) “The Assassin and the Mortalitasi were still where they stood, their skin and clothes suddenly the gray of dead, dull stone.” (The Dread Wolf Take You).

Solas:

In a desperate attempt to understand what the Inquisition and a few other high-profile factions knew, Solas disguised himself as an Orlesian bard. He understands that the powers against him in Thedas are not fools, and there are many who oppose him.

“I wished to know what you all knew,” he said, gesturing at the table. “There are many of you, and you are not fools. As for me coming in person . . . the Inquisition was involved.” He returned to his seat. “Why did you come?” (The Dread Wolf Take You).

When he revealed himself, Solas looked tired and sad. He said that telling the Inquisitor what he intended to do in Trespasser was a moment of weakness. He admitted that he’s prideful, hot-headed and foolish. He then told Charter to tell the Inquisitor that he’s sorry.

“He sighed. “It was a moment of weakness. I told myself that it was because you all deserved to know, to live a few years in peace before my ritual was complete.  Before this world ended.” (…) “I am prideful, hotheaded, and foolish, and I am doing what I must. When you report back to the Inquisitor . . .” His voice faltered. “Say that I am sorry.” (The Dread Wolf Take You).

The Dread Wolf:

Whether a separate being from Solas, or his own shapeshifting form, the Dread Wolf appeared in the Fade with wings of fire that resolved themselves into a horde of lesser demons. He’s lupine in appearance, but the size of a high dragon, with shaggy spiked hide and six burning eyes like a pride demon. The Fade is his natural home, and the spirits there serve him willingly.

“It was no elf, no mortal mage. It was a beast unlike any I had ever seen. Lupine in appearance, but the size of a high dragon, with shaggy spiked hide and six burning eyes like a pride demon, and it came to us on wings of fire that resolved themselves into a horde of lesser demons as the Dread Wolf landed before us.” (…) “But whatever fear the name Dread Wolf carries, he has earned. While we might visit the Fade, it is his natural home, and the spirits there serve him gladly.” (The Dread Wolf Take You).

The red lyrium idol belongs to him and he wants it back. The Dread Wolf declared that if anyone ever binds a spirit, then your life is his. This is particularly difficult for the Mortalitasi considering their entire culture is dependent on binding displaced spirits to corpses.

“YOU USE MY IDOL CARELESSLY TO VANDALIZE THE SEA OF DREAMS. NOW FEEL THE PAIN OF WHAT YOU HAVE CREATED.” (…) “FROM THIS MOMENT, SHOULD YOU EVER BIND A SPIRIT, THEN YOUR LIFE IS MINE.” (The Dread Wolf Take You).

From this moment, the Dread Wolf has a ritual in the Fade, binding spirits and using blood magic undoes his work, therefore, he has abolished these types of magic and will eliminate anyone who dares use them in the future.

"And as clear as the Dread Wolf’s anger at what we had done— the Mortalitasi binding spirits he considered his own, the Tevinter mage using forbidden blood magic— was the feeling that we had disrupted his own work." (The Dread Wolf Take You).

For now, his ritual and future plans are largely unknown, in any regard, the Dread Wolf has risen and is preparing his scheme to destroy the Veil and reclaim the elvhen kingdom.

With that, there’s all the major characters mentioned and introduced in Tevinter Nights that I feel are paving the way forward, and may potentially have some involvement in the future Dragon Age game. Let me know your thoughts, which characters did you like the most, who would you like to see in the next game, who appealed to you and has the most plot potential?

[ktheist]

saving grace | 5

muses. duke!yoongi x lady!reader

universe. arranged marriage / minor traces of magic in history

concept. driven into a corner with the new king, seokjin, offering to marry you off to a prince in a foreign land and a persistent mother who would seize the chance of a lucrative marriage for her daughter, you’re forced with the only other option to secure your freedom ‒ enter into a beneficial agreement with the man who reaped the seeds of war, the duke of cralon, yoongi min.

words. 6.7k

warnings. mentions of war, it’s cliche and cheesy all in one package

index. 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / finale

x

after your return from the min mansion, your mother, ever the loving parent, greets you at the door. her bright smile can be seen from miles away as she stands with her hands planted on her hips like someone who’s looking at her life’s worth investment.

“well?” she urges with an unfaltering smile.

“well?” you blink once, head lulling to the side as you stare at her for an explanation.

“don’t pretend to be ignorant,” she clicks her tongue but the contorted expression on her face is short lived as the smile returns, its force almost compelling you to take a step backwards, “did you two-”

“oh, ___, you’re back. i heard that you stayed the night at the duke’s.” your father, having emerged out of his office on the second floor calls for you and for some reason causes the woman in front of you to freeze as though haunted by guilt.

oh.

with a disarming smile, you wave at your father before recounting the reason you couldn’t go back right away after the party, “oh yes, it’s because mo-”

“i’m sure our daughter’s hungry, i’ll have the chef prepare something right away and in the mean time, we’ll be having tea in my parlor,” with that, the woman who has her hand clasped over her mouth whisks you away and into a narrow corridor right under where your father was standing.

huffing, she fixes you a displeased frown, “gosh, i only wanted to help my beloved daughter secure a good future!”

“mother!” hands planted on your hips, you fix your mother an incredulous look,   “by getting rid of any other means for me to leave the mention in hopes i’d seduce the duke to sleep with me and get him to marry me quickly in fear for my being pregnant with an out-of-wedlock child?” your shoulder line are stiff as you watch your mother not even batting an eye at the issues arising within that narration and instead grins in approval at what seems to be a mutual understanding between a mother and a daughter.

“i knew you were smart!”

not wishing to burst her bubble of joy, you excuse yourself to your room, saying the fatigue of hosting a garden party hasn’t entirely left you just yet. fortunately, she the matter of whether you’ve spent the night in yoongi’s room has dissipated in the air as she wishes you a good rest before murmuring something about writing a letter to marchioness jung to invite her to tea or rather, to boast about the daughter that’s marrying the duke who’s several ranks higher than a count’s.

you wonder how she would react once your matchmaking succeeds and krystal ends up becoming a candidate as seokjin’s queen but you decide that your mother’s wounded pride would be a matter of a future that you need not yet concern yourself with.

“leslie, prepare to go to vivian’s.” you question as the maid pulls down on the zip of your dress and allow you to step out of it until you’re staring at the woman in a white underdress in front of the mirror.

“but my lady, that boutique is...” the woman trails off, eyes slanted to the ground in search for the proper words to describe the handiwork.

you’re not entirely sure why she’s against it either but if there’s anything leslie’s good at, it’s being meticulous in her tasks which includes making sure you don only the best clothes, “don’t worry, i won’t be buying the engagement dress there. i just wish to confirm something.”

with that, her eyes lights up and for some reason, the same way your mother does when she offhandedly commends your ability to think just now, “right away, my lady!” the beam doesn’t go away nor so much as falter throughout the ride.

“we’re here to see mademoiselle vivian for my lady’s engagement party,” leslie approaches the worker that greets you when you came in.

you don’t miss the stare shot your way as you study the dresses wrapped around the mannequins until his jaw drops, possibly from the realization of who you are, “r-right this way, lady ___.”

the room you’re brought in is furnished with leather couches and extravagant patterns on its walls and curtains that make you wonder if there is such a thing as illegally pairing colors together.

only the higher ranking aristocrats, namely those from count families and above, would be able to afford clothes made by mademoiselle vivian, a foreign woman from a country across the seas who moved to cearis in search for a lover she’d met and fell deeply in love with but up until now, she still hasn’t found said lover.

or so the story goes.

perhaps it was a selling point to catch the eyes of helpless romantics - rich ones at that. but either way, she’s proved her talent through her intricate designs that time and time again sets off a new trend when a fairly influential noblewoman goes to a gathering in the dress she makes.

it’s no secret that krystal is a loyal customer to vivian’s. but then again, it has more to do about her looks than the dresses she wear. not that it matters to vivian because she’ll be dropping names of noblewomen who ordered dresses from her to gain trust from new customers.

but you’re not here for that.

“are the designs not to your liking, lady ___?” the woman’s bespectacled eyes bore into you after you let out a troubled sigh, eyebrows pulling together as though in deep dilemma.

“no, no, they’re all beautiful,” you let your words hang in the air for suspense before setting down the catalog and turning your whole body towards the woman, “it’s just... i want something that makes a statement, you see.”

“a statement...” she echoes.

“something like...” you murmur to yourself while she echoes your very words a second later.

“...a dress that tells other ladies that they can’t compare without being loud!” you clap your hands together, pleased that you’ve found the words you’ve been searching for.

it takes a moment of the woman burning a hole into the catalog of her designs while you take a sip of the lavender tea. it’s harder to find such tea and fewer can afford it because of the limited import and the high tax rate imposed seeing as only well-off nobles would usually have them at homes.

“i see it now,” she seems to have returned from a walk down the rabbit hole of laces and ribbons, “i don’t usually recommend this since the ladies that come to my shop need a little bit of help standing out - and my dresses do just that but! i think simpler designs would fit you and enhance your beauty like lady jung.”

you mentally cheer at the mention of the name, adding in a blink of surprise, “do you mean... krystal?”

“oh yes, she has the beauty of a crescent moon. a mysterious allure that attracts men and women alike...” vivian drones on with glazed eyes as though she’s descended over to another realm where the walls are tower high and plastered with krystal’s portraits posing in different dresses and her cat-like eyes seem to move wherever one goes.

“...but it’s a shame that her engagement with duke gillmore’s son’s been cancelled!” she ends with a dejected sigh as her shoulder line falls.

“the engagement’s been cancelled?” the fruit of your visit is turning ripe by the second as you clasp a hand over your ‘o’ shaped mouth.

almost as though realizing her slip up, vivian’s own hand shoots up to her mouth but for a different reason than yours, “oh, i shouldn’t be telling you this that since it’s not officially announced yet,” she meets your gaze with a hint of sparkle in them, whatever remorse she felt for revealing what isn’t due, has dissipated into the air, “bit to think the dress i made specifically for her engagement party would not be seeing the light of the day! it pains me so!”

the gillmores are the fourth and last of the ducal houses with the mins being the first and strong supporter of the royal family for hundreds of years. understandably, only two of the houses bear marriageable heirs to the title but with yoongi taking on the name grim reaper, naturally marquis jung would never allow krystal to marry him which leaves duke gillmore’s son as the only available candidate.

that was... until the crown prince who was engaged to a foreign princess was heartlessly murdered by his half-blooded brother. judging from how objective driven krystal is, she must have her eyes set on a bigger price than becoming duchess of the gillmore’s dukedom. and coincidentally so, as vivian mindlessly laments, the engagement was said to be cancelled two months ago which is around the same time seokjin must have called her to have her spread the rumor about you and yoongi’s engagement.

“my lady, have you gotten what you came here for?” the woman sitting across from you in the carriage finally breaks the silence after loyally following your lead as you bid vivian a half-hearted farewell because ‘i’ve realized i can’t make decisions like this on my own! please have the catalogs to the min residence. i’ll review them with my fiancee once he gets back.’

“leslie,” you feel a smile bloom across your face, “we’ve got ourselves a queen.”

x

for the rest of the week, you find yourself swarmed with letters and invitations to more social gatherings. back then, when you were just a marquis’ daughter and not a duke min’s fiance, invitations have not been scarce yet they’ve never been this overflowing. white envelops with varying house seals litter the white table in front of the window each day. before you can even finish reading those that accumulated in the inbox yesterday, a new bulk would have gathered by the end of today.

so when you hear the knock on your door, you don’t even bother asking who it was, only a short, “come in.”

in your engrossment in reading a letter sent from irene, you fail to notice the lack of footsteps after the noticeable click of the door swinging open and then shutting until it’s too late.

a black gloved hand props itself on the table while another gently settles on your shoulder, a distinctive scent of mint filling your senses. but the husky voice drumming in your ears is no stranger to you,“you’ve been busy.”

“yoongi!” the letter almost slips out of your hand as you crane your neck to gaze into a familiar pair of crimson eyes. but the surprise is short-lived as you become unnervingly aware of how close your faces are, so much so, you can feel his hot breath on your lips.

judging from how he still has his cloak and the formal knight uniform, he must have rode straight to your mansion after entering the boarders of the dukedom. why he chooses to do so, you don’t wish to indulge in.

“w-welcome back, how was the-” the words die on your throat as the coolness of his gloved thumb grazes your bottom lip.

you barely register the delicate “i missed you, ___,” that’s spoken within the minute space between his lips and yours before he closes the distance.

you’ve known those pink lips were soft from the kisses he leaves on the back of your hand but having them on yours are a separate matter altogether. it feels almost unfair that he’s the one who initiated the kiss but wouldn’t go further than a feather light peck before he pulls away, almost as though he thinks you’d break under the slightest pressure.

the faintest smile graces his features as though content to have felt you, to know that you’re not a dream. but on your part, it’s not enough and it will never be once you’ve had a taste of what sweet sacrilege tastes like.

you don’t have the time to admire the way those usually unbothered eyes widen, taken aback as your arm wraps around his neck, locking him within a birdcage large enough for him to stretch his wings but too small for him to escape.

when you break apart for air, you indistinctly register the burning sensation on your lips until yoongi’s eyes slants over them, finger hooked under your chin as he apologizes, “i might’ve been too rough.”

you’re not quite sure what he means, choosing to ignore such statements because he was every bit gentle - passionate, is a whole different story that you rather not think about as you invite him to sit in the chair across from you but instead, he drags it around and plops next to you. your knee brushes against his from time to time but you rather like the feeling of having a part of him touching you one way or another.

“your mother led me to your room,” he says simply, “i assumed you’d been informed.”

almost as though your mother’s scheming smile is ingrained in your head, you barely bat an eye at yoongi’s words as you sarcastically mutter, “i’m sure it must’ve slipped her mind.”

when leslie comes in with snacks, her lingering stare on your face does not go unnoticed but her free smile allows you to shake off the matter almost instantly.

“the inspection resulted in a graver findings,” yoongi apprises, blood red eyes holding your gaze as his next words sends a spear piercing through your heart, “we found children in the basement of the granary. the count’s been involved in human trafficking - nobody knows yet and the knights won’t say a word but once i report this to seokjin, it’ll be the only thing the capital will talk about for awhile.”

no nobility has ever truly lived an honest and clean life. if one were to dig even just the surface of a noble family’s activities, it isn’t hard to find corruption, bribery and even explanation to murders but to have been involved with human trafficking...

the smiling faces of the orphanage not too far from your mansion, flash at the back of your mind. the children had been in the poorest condition the first time you met them. but over time, they’d gained strength from the supplies you’d brought monthly and would come running to you and seokjin whenever you visited. it’s been awhile since you saw them after seokjin’s coronation and the distribution of supplies had been done by the people from the palace with the help of the servants from your house. the circumstances has significantly improved over the year but the thought of someone going as far as exploiting young children, those who were supposed to be under his care and protection makes your stomach churn.

you should have known. should have looked deeper into the activities of that degenerate count-

“not matter how much resource you have, you couldn’t have seen this coming.” the arms that wrap around your body are warm as they pull you flush against a chest. you don’t even realize you have your hands clenched into fists and trembling for the longest time until your shoulder line sags and all the strength inside your body seems to seep out your pores. if yoongi hadn’t held you, you would have hit the ground. either because of unbridled rage or unadulterated hopelessness.

you’re not sure how long time has passed with him holding you in his arms, but you don’t allow yourself the time to mope around more than you should. when you pull away, yoongi seems to have already expect the words that come out of your mouth, “i’ll make sure he’s stripped of his title and so are the people around him who stayed quiet.”

“i don’t doubt your capability,” his thumb rubs circles on the back of your hand, “but that would mean punishing every single commoner in his territory.”

the sound of your gritting teeth drums in your ears as your jaw sores, “they probably didn’t have anyone to turn to when their own lord was behind the atrocities plaguing their village,” a lump forms in your throat, you can only imagine the state the children were found in.

a hand wraps around yours, thumbs smoothing over each of your palms, “you saved them. if you hadn’t thought to suggest the trade, we wouldn’t have a solid reason to inspect the park family’s territory.”

“it was all his doing- he burst out first,” you swallow thickly, “i just reaped the seed he planted.”

a sigh drums in your ears, forcing you to look up and meet the duke’s molten gaze as his shoulder line falls. almost as though he’s surrendering to a fight he knows won’t be in his favor, “no words i say can possibly lift the heavy burden off your chest.”

you don’t deny it.

“would you like to come with me to the palace? i’ll be heading there in three day’s time to report our findings to the king,” his eyes doesn’t seem to search through the windows of your soul, perhaps because he’s learned that he’ll reach a dead end - a wall of thorns. the only way he’ll ever figure you out is if you let him through.

but he at least knows your answer if he’s leaning back against the chair, almost as though he’s turning his back on the wall and chose to tread back to the direction he came from, “i’ll pick you up some time at noon.”

x

yoongi is reluctant to leave the mansion - or rather, you. the look in his eyes when he looks back at you before mounting his horse, reminds you of the puppy you had when you were a child. she would always rub her head on your leg whenever she saw you dolled up to leave for a party your mother was taking you to. as though begging you not to leave. but she’d always been the first to ligh up when she saw you alight the family carriage when you returned.

you find yourself stepping past the doors of the mansion where you’d intend to wave him off and coming to a stop a few feet away from the horse, “yoongi, can i visit you tomorrow?”

the faint smile breathes fire into your soul as those blood red eyes bore into you like a molten lava, “i was hoping you would. every single day until we get married, in fact.”

it is only after you watch the sleek black stallion disappear through the gates and into the streets, do you notice the maids who have gathered at the doors since the beginning. but their huddled forms as they swoon is the least of your concern.

“so something finally happened.” your mother gathers, nodding in approval as you walk past her with full intention to minimize the interaction - you’ve still not forgiven her for failing to alert you of yoongi’s arrival but even if you quiz her about it, she wouldn’t be able to see the wrong in her actions even if it’d slapped her in the face-

“was that your first kiss as a couple?”

whirling around on your heels, you feel the heat creep up your cheeks almost instantly, “mother! wh-what are you talking about? a-and in front of the maids at that!”

it seems that’s all the answer she needs as she laughs to herself, “dear daughter, i’ve been alive longer than you- you think i would believe you if you said that cut on your lips was from you walking into something?”

“what cut-” the memory of yoongi’s unsettling closeness floods your mind before his peculiar apology echoes in your ears, ‘i might’ve been too rough.’

five minutes later, after you all but sprinted to your room and made a beeline towards the mirror that stands a head taller than you beside your bed, does a bloodcurdling scream fill the recesses of the mansion.

“luckily, it’s just a minor cut, my lady,” leslie assures, her ever smiling features doing better to calm your rapidly beating heart and increasing bashfulness than your mother ever could.

you silently weep at the minute red line on your bottom lip. she’s right. it’s a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it sort of cut and barely stings as you lather a thin sheen of healing ointment the woman brought after you requested it.

“this is humiliating,” you announce, holding a half-hearted vendetta towards the man whose eyes occasionally glaze over your lips during his visit but choose not to say anything else besides a cryptic indication of his lack of self-restraint.

it takes a whole evening of refusing to have dinner at the dining room and a pity party for yourself with flower petals for the muscles in your body to finally relax.

“what of the report i asked you to gather?” you quiz, hearing the pitter patter of someone’s footsteps going around the bathroom.

“most of them come up with similar information - nothing my lady does not know,” leslie’s fluttery voice reverberates against the walls.

“as expected, i’ll have to ask consult seokjin,” the sound of your teeth gritting drums in your ears, “the thought of him getting so smug just because i had to go to him makes me nauseous.”

with the issue human trafficking coming to light, it seems you can’t go around investigating about the nobles as you please, nor can any of your maids be seen asking around about it. discussing the matter with seokjin and gathering the intel you both have to unravel the nobles’ hidden trails would be a more reasonable course of action since they’ll be on high alert of yoongi since he was the one who brought the crime to light. from now on, even your movements might be closely watched.

x

yoongi bursts into your room the next day in a similar manner - unannounced - with a sort of expression you can’t pinpoint.

“don’t tell me my mother-” at first, you’re just about ready to storm to your mother’s room like a child throwing a tantrum until yoongi refutes, “i let myself in, the countess wasn’t around and the butler was too powerless to stop me.”

it takes you a moment to register what you heard, an image of the old family butler flashing at the back of your head. perhaps, it’s because it’s been awhile since you’ve been on the receiving end of yoongi’s frightening glare that you forget just how terrifying it is.

you’re suddenly pulled out of your thoughts when a hand tilts your chin upwards, leaving you with no other choice but to study the yoongi’s handsome face as he inspects the cut.

“i’m sorry,” the ghost of his touch burns your skin as takes a seat in the chair next to you, “i should have been more gentle.”

silence stretches on for the longest moment as you gather your words and sort out your thoughts but most importantly, you make sure to sound nonchalant about it, “you don’t have to... i liked how you kissed me.”

your mistake is letting your eyes roam up to his at the low hum that escapes him. a smirk curls on his lips as he gazes at you with his head propped against his hand, “should we do it again?”

“th-that-!” you hastily reply only to stop dead as the words get stuck in your throat. averting your gaze to the italic writings on the paper, you murmur, “...i’m not opposed to the idea.”

true to your words, you too easily comply when his gloved finger twirls the end of the ribbon around your neck, pulling you to him until your lips meet. a familiar sense of butterfly bursts in your stomach as you savor the taste of something sweet like chamomile tea on his lips.

for the rest of the day, you spend it by walking down the same street you did when he whisked you away from a dreadful tea party held by your mother right after the rumor of your engagement was confirmed by you dancing together at the ball. except now, you’re wearing a black hat with a veil covering your almost healed lips.

x

the day you’re to meet seokjin, the carriage with the min crest rolls into your residence some time a little past noon. not matter how many times he’s shown his unfaltering interest towards you, you can’t help but be surprised. today, he’s donned in his black and golden yellow knight uniform, signaling the formal business he has with his the monarch of the kingdom.

he presses his lips to your gloved knuckles, murmuring a soft, “how have you been?” as if reserved only for you and him.

“better,” you say, holding in a chuckle when his blood rushes to his cheeks and paints them red at your next words, “now that you’re here.”

you don’t miss the way he peeks at something over your shoulder, possibly where your parents stand at the doorway you just passed through. the chuckle you’ve become familiar of and rings like chimes hits the air, “___, why don’t we quickly get into the carriage and away from the count and countess’ eyes?”

“careful, duke,” a grin spreads across your face, hidden underneath the fan you hold just below your cheekbones, “if one were to overhear, we’ll have a lot of explaining to do.”

and yet you don’t delay stepping into the carriage and plopping down next to the window where you can still see your father’s gentle smile that contrasts greatly with your mother’s deep frown.

“no! you absolutely will not go!” she hadn’t meant the palace - or perhaps, she did mean the palace since seokjin is the one who’ll ultimately decide whether you have permission to travel to-

“yoongi,” your fingers curl around the hand on your cheek, breath coming out heaved and eyes barely focusing as you pull away from the aforementioned man.

he doesn’t seem like he’s interested in a conversation but he’s not chasing after your lips either, almost as though his conscience is telling him to be the gentleman he’s raised to be and listen but the beast in his eyes is restless to continue devouring your lips.

so you go on, “i’m going to ask for seokjin’s permission to travel to the park family’s territory.”

the hand in your grasp remains still so does his entire body. the only indication that he’s affected at all is the way those crimson eyes widen with surprise, “what?”

almost as though belatedly registering the weight of your words a second later, he falls to the spot next to you, the legs cradling both your sides leaving  you and even with these layers of clothes, you begin to feel the cold creep onto you, “sure,” he begins after what seems like a moment of pondering, “it’ll take a day at most to gather the knights but a royal notice takes at least three days to arrive-”

“i don’t need them... knights, royal notices... you might as well announce our arrival with horns,” you pause, studying the man’s gaze as it bores into you whilst you meet him head on. your deepset hesitance and worries still hovers over you like a haunting ghost, but you don’t want to keep any more secrets, “there’s something i need to tell you about my mother’s side of the family.”

your mother was from a nameless baron family. nobody truly knew them until she’d made her debut and started mingling with high society. just like you, she was the only daughter. the lineage was to end with her had it been just another penniless noble family.

“they run an informant group and call themselves the kairos,” the carriage shakes, as though trembling with fear at the mention of that name. you would have thought yoongi had known all along - that seokjin had told him, if not for the briefest twitch of his eye, “they supply information for anyone who’s willing to pay but keep an eye for those asking for information that could threaten the royal family - even though the queen was a noblewoman who married into the royal family, my mother, the leader then had been reporting to her up until...”

up until the bells that hung high in the tower at the entrance of the palace rung somberly that day.

all of a sudden, the sun that seemed to shine brighter than diamonds underneath the sky started shutting everybody out, including her husband and daughter. there were times when the door to her study was wedged open just the slightest bit.  your mother who had noticed the creak of the hinges that needed oiling, wiped her tears and held her arms out for you.

the 10-year-old you didn’t understood what she meant when she promised she’d started living for you.

all you knew was, that was the point where she started becoming more present in your life. it took you another few years to learn that your family, greatly influenced by the countess rather than the count, had taken a full on neutral stance on the political matter and the rising rumor about the half-bred prince against the crown prince for the throne.

and a few more, after meeting said half-bred prince, to convince your mother to trust you for the decision you were about to make as the leader of kairos - to support seokjin as the next king no matter what it takes.

“i thought we eliminated scums like jimin as soon as seokjin took the throne but...” the words seem to be lodged in your throat, unable to slip past your lips.

yoongi heaves out a sigh, legs stretching over the space between the seat you’re on and the one across from it as he slumps against the cushioned backrest, silver hair brushing against his brows as crimson eyes stare at the cushioned ceiling, “so it was you? the one who tipped us about the king’s illegitimate son being sent to the battlefield?”

the war yoongi had been in had ceded faster than expected - though his victory was as sure as the ground you walk on. it was because yoongi and his men managed to single out the the warring king’s beloved son who he was forced to send to war because the palace had been a different battlefield that he still couldn’t fight, and held him as a war prisoner until the king surrendered.

“one of the enemy kingdom’s spy managed to infiltrate the palace and knew of our reputation from one of the maids who was sent by them since three years ago - we managed to dig out some information from him that not many outsider knew about before we eliminate him,” you muttered simply, the scream of the faceless spy had drummed in your ears and chilled you to the bones. unlike you who had to turn away in the last minute, seokjin had looked at the man’s eye whilst he thrust his sword into the spy’s gut.

he’d only sat on the throne for a month then but it was far from his first kill.

"when we first found the basement where the kids were held captive,” yoongi rasps somberly, “i was glad you didn’t come with - it wasn’t something i want engraved into your head.”

“i understand your wish to protect me from the viciousness of the world,” you slip your hand underneath the gap between his palm and knee, making him crane his neck to look at you, “i would’ve done the same thing even if you’d already seen them all at war but that protection we wish to cast upon each other only serves to paint a faux image of daisies and rainbows - an unrealistic euphoria.”

“your want to change things with your own hands will never cease, it seems,” he comments, crimson eyes clouded with a sort of reluctance yet he presses a kiss to your forehead, “we’re different in that aspect - you and i.”

“how so?” perhaps it’s the obvious question you’re asking the grim reaper that makes him laugh and flick your forehead right after he kissed it, perhaps it’s the childlike wonder but he explains it anyway, “you grasp fate at its neck and threaten to throw the entire world into chaos if it doesn’t let you decide your own path, and i...” callous thumb caresses your gloved knuckles, “...i follow mine with contempt and despise the goddess for the cursed blood that runs through my vein.”

“if it weren’t for that blood, i wouldn’t have considered striking a deal with you and end up marrying you,” your hand slips out of yoongi’s grasp only for it to wrap around his hand with your free one, “the blood that grants the power for its master to swing his sword and protect his kingdom could never be a curse.”

“that’s not what the rest of the world thinks,” he refutes, a dry laugh escaping his lips.

“does what the rest of the rest of the world think matter more than of those who actually know you?” you’re not sure of his answer. or if what you’re asking is even appropriate. the organ beating in your chest writhes with agonizing anticipation as the man’s crimson eyes bore into you like a liquid fire.

but if there’s anything you’re more sure of, it’s the fact that the servants at the min mansion has never shown a shred of fear while you worked with them to prepare for the garden party. the same couldn’t be said for the other noble families who were infamous for their ill treatment towards those who serve them.

grim reaper is but a name that does yoongi no absolute justice. he’s possibly the most dignified noble you’ve ever met.

“no - not anymore,” he murmurs, the faintest hint of smile curling on his lips as crimson eyes melt like ice come autumn.

he gathers you in his arms and you gladly let yours drape over his stomach, cheek pressing flush against his chest. you stay like that, in complete silence as the carriage shakes with each pebble and hole in the road, for the rest of the ride until it rolls to a stop in front of the palace walls.

x

“child trafficking is a serious crime,” seokjin speaks after a long, strenuous pause once yoongi finished reporting his findings within the park territory, “i bet park isn’t showing any sign of remorse, did he?”

a foreboding cloud hangs over the room as the man hunches over the oak table, elbows propped on its surface and clasped hands hiding half of his face. though he hides his expression well, you can see the way his shoulder line tremble with rage until he looks up at the silver haired man.

“actually,” yoongi’s lips press into a flat line as he seem to stare off into nothingness for the briefest moment before frowning, “he all willingly admitted that he’d committed the crime by himself.”

“what about his lackeys?” seokjin quizzes, fully aware that no lord does the dirty work.

“the dungeon was empty of save for the children - most likely they abandoned their lord for their own lives when they heard we were coming,” the head knight deduces.

a pause hovers over the as silence blankets the room.

“it’s suspicious no matter how you look at it.” your voice cuts through the air like knife.

“no man admits to his dirty crime just like that,” seokjin agrees and judging from yoongi’s knitted brows, he seems to know something you don’t.

“we didn’t believe it was that easy either but there was no proof of any other involvement besides the count,” he confesses - they must have raided nearby smaller granaries and questioned the people who you can easily guess, were tight-lipped.

“your majesty,” you take a step forward before dipping into a bow, an arm slanted over your chest as your hand clasps over the spot where your heart it, “i swear upon the honor of the leader of kairos, i will drag every last person involved in this to hell - please allow give me your permission to go to the park territory to investigate this matter further.”

this time, it doesn’t take long for seokjin to respond, “i was wondering why you didn’t storm over the moment you heard about the duke’s findings,” he leans back against his seat, eyes glazing with a ghost of the past, “love changes people, huh?”

“i-i’m not sure where you’re-” before you manage to barely calmly deflect seokjin’s ludicrous assertion, another voice speaks over you, forcing you to swallow the remaining of your words.

“your majesty, i ask your permission to escort lady ___ in her journey,” yoongi mimics your position in your periphery.

it takes a moment for his words to register and another for you to debate on the pros and cons of having a knight, bound to uphold the law, join you in a not so equitable quest for a justified cause.

yet you lower your head, “his grace will be my only other companion, your majesty. please allow it.”

but the answer you thought to receive isn’t one that he gives, “what about miss leslie? you always go with her.” 

standing straight, you study seokjin’s deep frown before coming to a conclusion that you’ll probably never understand the man’s way of thinking even if you tried.

“i believe his grace will do a better job at guiding me since he’s been there before.” is all you say.

“this is unacceptable!” the sound of skin smacking a hard surface echoes against the wall, you have to resist to check if his hand is red from slamming it onto the table that hard, but he persists like without blinking, “an unmarried man and woman travelling together without servants... what would people think?”

“the question is, your majesty, why are you thinking anything would happen besides his grance and i working to unravel the people involved in this syndicate?” your voice takes on a dangerously low tone as you meet seokjin’s startled gaze.

“e-either way, i’m the king and i say jungkook will go with you,” he announces.

“y-your majesty? b-b-but-” the man in question’s head snaps in the king’s direction faster than you can blink. almost as though seeing a ghost, jungkook’s complexion pales instantly at the order.

“you’re sending the prime minister to do undercover work. outside of the capital, at that.” you point out in a matter of factly. as the silence stretches on, the more ridiculous the scenario seems to be but seokjin isn’t seokjin if he doesn’t try to refute you.

“he hasn’t taken the governmental examination yet,” he holds his chin high like that of a king.

“he’s been filling in for the prime minister anyway,” you challenge, refusing to back down as you hold the king’s equally defiant stare, “and it isn’t so kingly of you to stop your most loyal subjects from serving the kingdom - his grace and i going as leader of kairos and head knight to carry out your bidding, your majesty.”

it’s the jab at his position that makes his eye twitch. after having spent over five years by the other’s side, you know each other’s strengths enough to trust the other with your lives. but the downside is, you also know the other’s weakness like the back of your hand.

“ah, that’s true,” when his tone turns sweet and his shoulder line relaxes, yours stiffen as you narrow your eyes at the man’s sudden shift of personality - and true enough, you don’t like how he decides to take a jab at your- “since members of kairos have been decreasing and as a result, the guild barely have any influence outside of the capital, i suppose you would benefit from having yoongi come with you.”

he knows full well you hate relying on others because of your chest full of pride. yet you force on a smile that points in all the wrong anger, head lowering as you mechanically mutter, “thank you for your consideration, your majesty.”

x

note. and that is all for this chapter! (apparently we’re not having just 4 chapters + finale). 

taglist. @fanfuckingfic @ayujmi @deathkat657

[nazyalenskyism]

Let’s Get Married 3

Let’s Get Married Part 3 (Let’s Get Married)

Summary: Guess who got married! A/N: PLEASE READ: From this point on, anything labeled as "THEN,"/"18 months ago" refers to the week during which Chapter 2 (I've Been So Far Gone Lately) is set during. Anything labeled as "NOW" or "18 months later" is set in the present day. Sorry for any confusion!

Ao3: Let's Get Married Part 3

18 months later (NOW):

David Kostyk came back from his break like always, with a mug of tea from his wife in one hand and a stack of files from Nikolai in the other, ready to dive into the documents for the day. The first few files were standard, he was signing off on others’ work, making sure everything was up to date and properly formatted but it was when he hit the fifth document that he found something amiss. He pushed his glasses up his nose, bending down to make sure that he read the file correctly. No, that couldn’t be. That would mean that--Oh no.

David picked up his receiver, punching in numbers he knew by heart, this was going to be anything but a quiet morning like he’d hoped. “Genya, you need to see this.”

                                                            ***

“Nikolai Lantsov!” he glanced up at the mention of his name, surprised at the sight before him. Genya marched into the room with Tolya and Tamar walking determinedly behind her while David trailed behind them, clutching a stack of papers in his hands. Nikolai glanced at his watch, it was only 11 AM, they didn’t have their daily meeting until 2 PM, that was odd.

He raised a brow, easing back in his chair, “can I help you?”

“What’s this?” Genya exclaimed without any preamble, grabbing a paper off the top of the stack in David’s hands and slapping it onto his desk.

“Paper, I assume, darling Genya.”

“I mean what’s on the paper,” she snapped, “it says you’re married.”

Nikolai paused, drawing the paper towards him, “you were at the wedding,” he glanced around, “you all were. In fact, you were the only people there.”

“You were supposed to get divorced,” Tolya interjected, “that was the plan.”

“Plans change.”

“Nikolai, you were supposed to be married for six months, a year at most.” Tamar frowned.

“It’s just been more beneficial than we’d originally thought.”

“What?” Genya asked, scowling at him.

“Well, we realized it would be better for our taxes, for one.” he ticked off a finger with each additional reason he gave. “People don’t ask for our numbers when we go out anymore and my parents and brother hate both of us so they leave us alone. One glare from Zoya and deals are signed in record time, I don’t have to suffer through terrible parties alone anymore, and Zoya has to be nice to me,” he furrowed his brow, “well sometimes. Actually not nicer but--”

“What are you going to do now?” David interrupted.

“What do you mean?”

Tamar spoke up, “you can’t keep this lie up forever, someone is going to find out, it’s amazing they haven’t already.”

“Yes,” Genya nodded, “what if you meet someone, and want to get married? What are you going to do then? Or what if someone asks you why you don’t live together or why your prenup with Zoya is basically giving her 50% anyways?”

“We’ve been too busy,” Nikolai said dismissively.

“Busy? She spends half her evenings hanging out at your apartment or with us. Even if that wasn’t the case, Nikolai, you always make time for important things.”

“It’s not important at the moment.” He understood their confusion, he had been surprised at first too when Zoya hadn’t asked him to call things off three seconds after they had officially gotten married and secured the company as his. In fact, she hadn’t brought it up at all. Not once in a year and a half and neither had he. It felt like they’d struck some sort of perfect balance, and the last thing he wanted was to destroy their peace. No, when Zoya wants to end this, I’ll agree, but until then I won't be the one to ruin this.

“It is important!” Genya looked as if she wanted to shake some sense into him, which was odd, usually only Zoya had that look on her face. Speaking of Zoya, it had been a minute since he’d spoken to her, not since he’d brought her coffee to her office this morning, all the way on the other side of the floor. He should send her a text about dinner tonight, he had found a fantastic restaurant whose specialty was her favourite dish and wanted to take her. He pulled his phone out of his waistcoat pocket, smiling as he typed a message he knew would make her roll her eyes, chuckling at her response.

“Hey!” Genya snapped her fingers in front of his face, startling him from his texting. “Nikolai, if you don’t think this is an important thing to do at the moment, what do you think it means that you like spending time with her, that you trust her with all your secrets? How you don’t care about what anyone else has to say about you, everyone but Zoya? The rare time she compliments you, you light up like a Christmas tree! Not only that but…” Genya trailed off, twisting her wedding band around her finger, glancing around at her friends for a reprieve, but they were all avoiding her imploring gaze.

“But?” Nikolai prompted. He could feel his ears burning, but he wouldn’t allow his friends to see how Genya’s words had impacted him.

“You know what,” she sighed. “Nikolai, you know why you don’t want to change things and it’s the same reason she doesn’t want to change things either. Both of you want this and there’s a reason why, a reason that would make you both a lot happier than you are now.”

Nikolai stood abruptly, he’d had enough. “As always, your advice is appreciated but unneeded. Now if you’ll excuse me I have an appointment and before that, as per the request of my friends,” he gestured to them, “I need to start filing for divorce.”

                                                               ***

18 months ago (THEN):

“I found something,” Nikolai whispered, sliding up behind Zoya and gently touching her arm before slipping a drink into her hand. In the ballroom behind them the party was in full swing but out here on the terrace overlooking the gardens there was barely a buzz. They’d moved outside because they hadn’t wanted their conversation to be overheard by someone at the party. If anyone found out what they were planning on doing they would be in big trouble, to say the least. She arched a brow, and took a sip of her drink and he took it as an indication to speak. “There’s a clause in the bylaws that states that someone other than the intended heir of the company can inherit it if they challenge the intended heir, get a majority of votes from the board, and are over thirty.”

“Nikolai, you’re nowhere near thirty, there’s no way you’re going to be able to stop Vasily from getting his greasy hands all over your company.”

He shot her a bemused look, “my company?”

“You know what I mean,” she snapped. “That can’t be all you found, keep talking.”

“Well,” he began slowly, “the only way we get around that is, there’s a clause that says you have to be thirty or married.” A deafening silence stretched out between them, both trying to gauge the others’ reaction. Zoya spoke first, surprisingly.

“So, when’s the wedding? What should I get you, cash or something off the registry?”

“Nazyalensky, I didn’t say that I was going to get married.”

“Come on,” she said, looking up at him, “this is your life’s goal. If you don’t secure the company now, then your brother or that old creep Aleksander will take what’s rightfully yours.” Her finger jabbed at his chest, her eyes alight with passion. If he didn’t know any better, he would think that she believed in him. “You are the only person who can and should be running it. It’s yours Lantsov, it always has been.”

Nikolai felt a kernel of warmth unfurling in his chest as Zoya whipped away from him and back towards the skyline, the faintest blush colouring the tops of her cheeks. Open admissions of friendship always made her ill. Nikolai drew in a breath, preparing to be eviscerated for what he was going to say next. “Would you?”

She squinted at him, “would I what?”

“Would you marry me? Hypothetically. If you were an eligible bachelorette in the city?” Zoya cut him a quick glare, “hypothetically, yes. Anyone would be stupid not to.”

“And do you consider yourself smart?” he said.

“Nikolai…” she faltered, “don’t.”

“Don’t what? It makes sense, doesn’t it? We already know each other, we don’t have to draw up an extravagant prenup, I’ll gladly give you half of what I have, we can get divorced a week after we get the company, and go on with life as usual.”

Zoya shook her head at him, “and what will people say when you and your ex-wife are working side by side every day, with no bad blood? And getting divorced a week later, that makes it so obvious that you only did it for the company.”

“Fine,” he said simply. “If you can tolerate me for a couple of months, we can stage some big fight and break things off. We’ll say that we were young and in love and made a stupid decision.”

Her hand went to the chain around her neck, rubbing the locket absently. “I don’t think this is a good idea Nikolai.”

“Nazyalensky,” he stepped closer to her, “we’re running out of time and I don’t think I have any other options. I wish there was another way but if this is the only way, I will do it, but I would rather it be with someone I trust. And hey, it’s only six months, then we’ll be back to how we always were.”

Nikolai waited for a minute, then two, then what felt like forever before she finally spoke. “Okay.” She turned towards him, “okay, but no big wedding. Just us, the officiant, Genya, David, Tamar, Tolya, Nadia, and my family. Just the ten of us.”

He took her hand, “what about all my friends?”

“What friends,” she scoffed.

Nikolai pouted, “harsh.”

“Honest.”

He laughed at that, pulling out the small box that had been sitting against his chest all night. He popped it open before flipping it towards her, cherishing the faint flicker of disbelief on her face as he slipped the ring onto her finger. He knew what she was thinking; it was huge and sparkly, the two things she liked most.

“You idiot,” she slapped his chest, “you knew about this already, why did you wait until now to tell me?”

“I wanted to have the ring ready,” he protested, admiring the excitement painted onto her exquisite features as she admired the glimmering ring in the moonlight. “I didn’t think you’d agree unless I had it.”

“You’re right, I was just feeling extreme amounts of pity towards you tonight, otherwise, even your desperation wouldn’t have been enough. ”

“Ruthless,” Nikolai smiled, “now, shall we tell the others?”

Zoya took his outstretched arm, “let’s.”

“Ah, ah.” Nikolai chided, “it would be a little obvious if we stepped out of the party to get engaged, no?”

“Ugh, fine,” she groaned, slipping the ring off her finger, and reluctantly placing it back in the box. “You’re right, it clashes with my outfit tonight anyways. But I’d like it back as soon as possible.”

“Let me finish putting a little something together. We should at least be able to have a little fun with it.”

“Alright,” she sighed, “but no public proposal.”

“No public proposal,” he agreed, “just us. Like always.”

                                                        ***

18 months later (NOW):

“What is it, Genya?” Zoya sighed, stepping around a tourist glued to the center of the sidewalk, her phone tucked between her shoulder and ear as she gripped the box of baklava against her chest. Nikolai always got peckish in the afternoon and the sweet was his favourite snack and if she’d learned anything in life it was that a well-fed Nikolai was a more productive Nikolai.

“Care to tell me why you’re still married?”

“Hm?” She eyed the window display of the boutique behind her, while waiting for the streetlight. Nikolai would love that sweater and the blue would bring out the gold in his eyes.

“Hey!” Genya snapped at her, “why didn’t you tell us that you’re still married?”

“Should I have?”

“Yes? Obviously yes!”

“Okay,” Zoya said, not seeing the issue, “so now you know.”

“You were supposed to get divorced a year ago, why are you still married?”

She sighed, it was so simple, how did no one else get it? “It was better for our taxes, people don’t ask for our numbers when we go out anymore, Nikolai’s family leaves us alone. It makes it easier to deal with all the stuff from when Liliyana--” she broke off, clearing her throat, “it makes business deals go smoother, we can bail each other out of stuff. It just makes things easier.”

“What if you meet someone and want to get married, or even date them? Or what if Nikolai does?” Zoya frowned, turning away from the boutique door she’d been about to open, crossing the street instead. She hadn’t thought about that before. Nikolai was a romantic, she’d seen it in action, and while he’d never been in a long-term relationship in the time she’d known him, he had been on dates where he’d gone all out. What if he was even slightly interested in someone and pushed aside the prospect of a relationship with them because he felt that he owed her something? She didn’t want that.

“I know. It’s just-- we’ve been busy.”

“That’s exactly what he said.”

“We’ll get around to it, we will.”

Genya seemed to pick up the weariness of her voice and simply said, “I know you will,” before hanging up.

Zoya slumped into her car, resting her forehead against the steering wheel. When did things get so complicated? He’d asked Zoya to help him because it was supposed to be uncomplicated when it was her. When had she let herself fall into this so badly that she genuinely questioned her ability to extract herself from it?

Her phone chimed and she saw that her last conversation with Nikolai had been deleted from their message history, the one where they’d been making dinner plans. Instead she saw a new message under their conversation from last night simply reading, “we need to talk. I’ll pick you up at 7.”

Zoya exhaled through her nose, punching out, “Okay.” in response before tossing her phone into the backseat. It was ridiculous to think that anything about this arrangement had ever been easy. The night that Nikolai’s parents had thrown them an engagement party had been proof enough of that.