#chateau de val

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Chateau de Val, Lanobre, Cantal, Auvergne-Rhône-Alpes, France,

Pierre Holey Photography

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Château de Val - Lanobre, Cantal, FRANCE

[visiteuropeancastles]

Château de Val -  35 Castles in the South of France: Home to French Kings and Picasso

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Ô Saisons Ô Châteaux (Agnès Varda, 1958)

- Châteaux de la Loire (Val de Loire), France

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Discover France

Château de Chambord

Chambord is the largest chateau in the Loire Valley. Its construction started in 1519 and lasted until 1547. It was originally a hunting lodge for Francis I who was the king of France for 32 years. Chambord is one of the most impressive castles in France as it is a prime example of French Renaissance architecture.

Igers du Val de Loire

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[thomtmexploration]

🌟 **Explore la Forteresse Royale de Chinon avec moi !** 🌟

La vidéo 👇

Les photos 👇

La description 👇

Bonjour à tous ! 👋

Prêt à plonger dans l'histoire ? La Forteresse Royale de Chinon, perchée sur une colline surplombant la magnifique rivière Vienne, est un trésor médiéval au cœur de la région Centre-Val de Loire. 🏰✨

Ancienne résidence des rois de France au Moyen-Âge, ce château a été le témoin de moments clés, notamment lors de la guerre de Cent Ans. Avec son impressionnant donjon du XIIe siècle et ses ruines chargées d'histoire, chaque pierre raconte une histoire fascinante.

Saviez-vous que cette forteresse a été bâtie par Henri II d'Angleterre et a accueilli des figures emblématiques comme Jeanne d'Arc et les Templiers ? 🤯

Aujourd'hui, la Forteresse Royale de Chinon est un incontournable pour les passionnés d'histoire et les amateurs de panoramas époustouflants. Venez explorer ses secrets et découvrir son riche passé !

[poulettetonboule-cestdlaboulette]

Chaumont sur Loire

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Le château de Fougères-sur-Bièvre par Loir-et-Cher Tourisme Via Flickr : ©CDT41 Véritable petit bijou, ce château, pourtant construit à la fin du XVème siècle, a encore un aspect médiéval et défensif. Ses charpentes sont exceptionnelles et son jardin d'inspiration médiévale invite à la promenade en famille... Laissez-vous surprendre par les mille et unes activités que vous propose le Coeur Val de Loire et passez des vacances ou week-ends inoubliables ! Venez découvrir le Coeur Val de Loire sur: www.coeur-val-de-loire.com/ www.facebook.com/coeur.val.de.loire.tourisme?fref=ts

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Château de Chambord, Chambord, Centre-Val de Loire, France

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Château de Val - FRANCE

[dankolara]

Chateau de Val, Lanobre, Cantal, Auvergne-Rhône-Alpes, France,

Pierre Holey Photography

[moonsugar-and-spice]

Ohoho, for the Prompt Ask:

🌧 #17: “We never called it what it was.”

Pairing… Ozara?

OR

🐉 #2: “Oh, good. You’re here. Hold this.”

Dorian Pavus & character of your choice.

Hey, remember this from, like, 84 years ago? I couldn't choose between them, so I'll get around to posting the Ozara one sometime next century.

🐉2: “Oh, good. You’re here. Hold this.”

Or, the one where Cassandra is the only adult in the room.

Send me a prompt and a pairing.

+++

They prepared as well as they could in the time they had. Which was to say terribly.

A mysterious stranger. An anonymous letter. Rumors of a man hosting a cult that was preparing to sacrifice a kidnapped child come midnight. It had all happened so quickly, just as they were approaching the gates to put Val Royeaux behind them, and now the motley agents of the Inquisition found themselves lurking at the city’s eastern fringe, bathed in the evening’s fading glow.

On a humid breeze wafted the tang of where the river kissed the city’s walls. Cassandra rechecked the map, then trained her eyes on a slice of mansion visible through the network of stone buildings and wrought iron fences, while the others shifted in boredom or restlessness.

“Chateau de Beaumier,” she nodded, her face set in grim lines. “Our suspect, the owner, is a wealthy man of Antivan descent, full name Dego Bonaccorso de Barbarisi.”

A brazen snort cut her off. Gazes swerved to the small elven archer leaning back against a tree, one foot propped up on the trunk.

“Shew, that’s a verbal marathon, innit?” Sera snickered. “Rich asses and their names, you’re out of breath before you even reach the end.”

Cassandra fixed her with a look, dispelling the approving smirks on the dwarf and qunari’s faces in turn.

“Unfortunately," she continued pointedly, "judging from the heavy guard presence around the perimeter—”

“Bet kids like that have to make up a song just to learn how to spell it.”

The scar on the warrior’s cheek tightened with the muscle in her jaw as the boorish elf girl barreled on, picking grime out from under a fingernail.

“Like, their school award ceremonies, or whatever hoity-toity shit they do, being called up on stage just to have your name massacred in front of hundreds. Probably not even spelled right on the award.”

“If you are quite finished…” But she trailed off, the map crinkling in her grip.

Cassandra became aware of the indistinct mumblings of delight where, in her periphery, Dorian was turning over a girthy, elongated object. Her eyes slid closed on a heavy sigh.

“What is your problem, mage?”

“My problem?” he asked, a hand flying to his chest in mock affront.  “Dear me, I have so many, but a cutting wit and probable demonic origins are the ones that should concern you.”

Cassandra turned to face him dead on, but whatever she had intended to say dried up, her mouth opening and closing like a fish. “What. Is that?”

Dorian spared a quick glance at the polished dildo in his hand. “If you were literally anyone else, I’d be surprised.”

“I know what it is,” she snapped. “Why do you have it?”

“I hadn’t worn this cloak in a while, and I’d forgotten it was in my pocket. I was, uh, holding it for a friend.”

“It’s me,” the qunari chipped in, “I’m friend.”

“Ugh, nevermind, just…” Cassandra massaged between her aching brows. “Please, everyone, let’s stay focused.”

“Cassie's got it, we’re losing time and musn't let the”—Iron Bull paused, wrestling with his budding grin—“Dego by before we complete our heroic operation.”

Snorts of choked laughter filled the air, lips pinching under Cassandra’s incisive gaze.

“Is something funny?” she demanded of the group, the control in her voice fraying.

“But of Corso, he’s right,” Varric hazarded, relishing the moment the joke washed over her face like a shadow.

The Divine’s Right Hand practically growled. “Pride of the Inquisition, you all are. Making jokes while an alleged cult readies to sacrifice an innocent child. You should be ashamed of yourselves.” 

“Key word there, Seeker. Alleged,” emphasized Varric. “You realize we’re still only going on one person’s account, grasping at hearsay straws. Doesn’t that seem just a little… rash to anyone else?”

“Rash?” she echoed, the fire in her cooling with a sigh. “Perhaps. But if the account proves true, and I had failed to act… I could not live knowing a child’s death was on my head. On all our heads.”

A muggy gust of wind sent leaves fluttering, a gilded kaleidoscope changing and shifting where they stood. For a rare moment, everyone was silent.

“Fair enough. I’m with you,” Varric nodded, shifting his weight. “But the security hefty as it is, if we’re caught we’ll never step foot inside that mansion, much less Skyhold again. So, the question remains.”

“What we need is a diversion,” Sera piped up, a little too eagerly.

“Maker help me, if you suggest a jar of bees—”

A hard, unfamiliar voice cut in from behind them. “What’s all this?”

The group jolted and spun to find a scowling wall of a man, a guard whose approach had been masked by the wind. In the seconds of held-breath confusion, before things veered from bad to worse, Dorian took a quick, amicable step forward.

“Oh good, you’re here! Hold this,” he smiled, shoving the manufactured phallus into one of the guard’s large hands.

The look of pure bewilderment on his jowly face would later go down as one of the trip’s highlights.

“What…” The guard stared down at it, disgust dawning with the realization, when a sickening crunch sent him to the ground like a felled tree.

But not before he let out a throttled cry.

The air turned ripe with whispered curses. Varric gave Bianca a quick once-over, wiping a splatter of red from the end of her stock, as everyone's attention turned to the host of sentries now on alert and in search of the source.

Everyone except for Iron Bull.

At the rattle of what sounded suspiciously like a belt being unclasped, Cassandra turned, strangling a cry of exasperation.

“What are you doing?!” she hissed.

Bull finished kicking off his armor and pants, and now stood at their rear, wearing naught but a smile.

“Supplying the diversion,” he grinned, stooping to pluck the dildo out of the unconscious-maybe-dead guard’s limp hand.

“Don’t! Bull, what are you—?”

But he was already off, streaking out across the courtyard, the bedroom tool brandished aloft and gleaming in the late evening’s glow.

“First one to catch me’s the lucky winner!” his bellowing voice rang out.

It was as if he’d whacked a hornet’s nest, every guard in the vicinity now teeming after him. A successful diversion by almost any measure.

If it hadn’t been for the fact that the entire ordeal, they soon found out, came down to a game of rumor and a rival’s petty shot at revenge.

“So…” Varric asked later, hands shackled as they all sat against the cold stone wall. “Draw straws to see who asks Ruffles to bail us out?”

[kroashent]

Is Antoinette actually a decent fighter?

From the personal journal of Enora de Chinon:

- 12 Skeotrenn, 1235 SI -

... My new lady-in-waiting, the Beaumoulin girl, has begun her life here at Amboise. Despite her clear dedication to the task, she remains quiet and reserved, barely saying a word. While she is occasionally clumsy and error-prone, I still cannot fathom why she was having such trouble with her prior employment. Before our meeting at Lady Durtal’s Dinner, she had been removed from no less than 5 positions. She seems a sweet, but shy, girl who causes no trouble intentionally and is overly quick to take the blame. Perhaps time will let her lower her guard after her prior experiences...

- 39 Skeotrenn, 1235 SI -

... I gave the chateau staff the day off while I inspected the Garrison at Chinon. As I prepared to mount my Wyvern, my Lady-in-Waiting, Antoinette Beaumoulin, appeared on the ramparts, insisting she accompany me. When I explained my military role was outside of her courtly duties, she remained steadfast in her decision, the first flash of a real backbone I’ve seen in her yet. She followed me around on every drill and maneuver until nightfall...

- 14 Gwenngaouenn, 1235 SI -

... Antoinette was again waiting on the ramparts despite my early rising, carrying a bundle of armor, lances and other arms. I hear she will not allow the squires to clean my armor, insisting it falls under “the lady’s wardrobe” and therefore her purview. A curious development. She accompanied me at her own insistence on patrol once again. She has been increasingly energetic and talkative, taking an active role on the field. She is attentive during maneuvers and attempts to follow me even at full gallop, despite not having full control over her pony. She clung to the poor beast’s neck the whole way and arrived panting and disheveled. Later, I even thought I saw her shove one of the boys out of the way to collect my discarded lance, but I cannot envision the quiet girl from Lady Durtal’s dinner table doing such a thing...

- 5 Bleuñvadegou, 1235 SI -

... Annaig has taken to calling herself my squire to the new staff, and anticipates my patrols with incredible prescience. Her skills as a spotter leave much to be desired, having identified a procession of monks as an invading army, and the windmills along the Liger as a group of giants. The timid mute from the party has vanished entirely, as has the concept of silence in my chambers. Annaig talks constantly to anyone who will listen with the enthusiasm of a Hastilude Crier. At dinner, I heard Albert refer to her as my squire, the git. He finds it dreadfully amusing, but I fear this will only encourage my lady-in-waiting’s eccentricities…

- 45 Bleuñvadegou, 1235 SI, The Festival of False Sunset -

... Some of the crueler pages decided to ambush my self-proclaimed squire with rocks and sticks before the Festival. When I heard Annaig had been in a fight, I was shocked and worried, but my surprise grew when I found she had beaten all 3 ruffians with a wooden training sword and sent them running. Despite her small frame, she has apparently been learning more than I thought from watching the sparring at the garrison. She remains in excellent spirits since I accidentally called her my squire to his Lordship La Flèche. I fear I have, as Fadlan would say, uncorked the djinn from her prison and there is no going back…

Val's Notes: For a point of clarification, Antoinette Beaumoulin's given name in "Annaig Millinmad". Her father, a rising bourgeois cloth merchant, has taken on a name closer to those used in Gallia to ingratiate himself with the nobility and instructed his family to do the same, in hopes of mitigating prejudicial assumptions of Letha as a remote backwater while raising their social status. This practice is common in the West of Letha. Antoinette was sent to learn etiquette and build social connections among the noble houses of Gallia and Anjev, a regular practice for well to do families.

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Château de Chenonceau

Chenonceau Castle is one of the most impressive castles in France as it is a transitional piece between Gothic and Renaissance architecture. It was built in the early 16th century on the shores of River Cher and had many different owners. Some of the owners had to give up the castle due to their debts.

Iger du Val de Loire

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