#mercysought: anora

[immobiliter]

       It was naïve to think that this partnership would be without its problems. Days had passed since Anora had put forward her plan to scout out the lands around Denerim, to assemble a small force of men to reach out to once allies in the hope that they might support a rebel queen this time around. Jamie had been tasked with choosing his most trusted men to accompany them. Though he trusted his uncles, Dougal had been excluded for obvious reasons, and Colum was content to remain with the rest of their tribe as he always did. They'd packed their things and left the sanctity of the Frostbacks. All had seemed well, even upon arriving in the Brecilian Forest and meeting with an Arl of a local village.

       It was early the next morning, as the men awoke to eat their morning meal, that tensions finally boiled over. A slight by one of Anora's men — insignificant words, and perhaps not intentional, but uttered to a man who had clearly woken up on the wrong side of his bedroll this morning.

       “ Angus, get a hold of yourself, man! ” It wasn't long before Jamie found himself positioned between the two of them — though primarily holding back his own Avvar tribesman, now with a sword in his hand and intent on cleaving his way through Anora's men with the ease that he'd nicked at poor Ser Bryton's throat. No matter how scrappy Angus was, however, Jamie had the advantage in height and weight, and was now furiously trying to push him away from the campfire.

       He might have talked him down ( or simply worn him down in a match of strength ) eventually, but a woman's voice suddenly tore through the camp, and every set of eyes in the camp was drawn towards it. Jamie remained silent, waiting for one of the two men to speak up — but it seemed Anora bearing witness to the violent end of their petty spat was enough of a deterrent on its own. Angus relented and, with a huff, stormed off towards his other kinsmen ( it did not escape Jamie's notice that their camp was physically divided between the Avvar and the Queensguard ). It seemed Ser Bryton, too, was no longer interested in a confrontation.

       As Anora turned her attention towards him, Jamie spared a wordless glance with Murtagh — who, reading his mind as expertly as ever, followed Angus back to the rest of the group. By the time he'd finished speaking with their queen, Jamie hoped his godfather had managed to diffuse the situation and calm Angus's temper.

       “ A slight over breakfast, my lady. ” With a sigh, Jamie bent down to pick up one of the blades that had been discarded on the ground. He then gestured to Anora to follow him towards the outskirts of the camp — where they might not be so easily overheard. “ I dinna think Ser Bryton meant anything by it, but there are... deep-seated beliefs that many Fereldans have of our tribal way of life. That they are civilised and we are savages, and the like. ” Only once Jamie had travelled to Orlais himself had he understood the difference in the lifestyles of those in the cities and those in the mountains. “ And Angus, the stubborn glaikit, has been clamouring for a fight for days. ”

She simply smiles, scoffing at the last comment of his charm and where he had learnt it before walking past him and tightening her grip around the heavy cloak in the later afternoon.

He had certainly grown more charming but she doubted that Orlais had anything to do with that any more than his upbringing in Ferelden. She, however, kept those comments to herself. They had both grown so much that they would probably not even recognise each other if circumstances hadn’t driven them both to this same place. And, for his uncles’ benefit, Jamie seemed to be exactly what the Avvar needed, and exactly what his uncles needed for him to also be accepted considerably easier by her own advisors. Accepted was perhaps too kind of a term, they had started to more consistently tolerate his presence and of anyone that he chose to have with him in meetings with the Queen.

It was a fraught affair, and Anora did not doubt that it would take a while longer before these things were hashed out. Hopefully, the Queen would pray to the Maker each night before her eyes were closed, no blood would need to be drawn and that the animosity would not boil.

Of course that would have been a wonderful dream - but one that Anora knew was only a matter of time before it materialized into a full-blown nightmare. And so the scenario was: the small group of handpicked folk that both Anora and Jamie had picked on a mission towards a smaller village in hopes of gathering more support from the local Arl, the middle of the Brecillian Forest and shouts coming from the common area of the camp.

Shouts and large thuds on the ground - as she hoped it was instead of the picking up of blades. Pushing the flap of her tent away, she pushes past her aid. Her braids tightly curled at the bottom of her head as she had worn in Denerim, crown safely kept in her travel bag - held to her side. With her dominant hand, she grabs her hand axe as she walks towards the shouts, truly hoping that they hadn’t been spotted, that they weren’t being attacked either by the wildlife or any guard loyal to the bastard.

Upon arriving she sees Jamie with arms spread, keeping two men away from one another talking furiously to the Avvar man whose eyes were locked with a soldier - one of hers. The vein at the neck of Ser Bryton was close to burst.

   “Are we trying to call attention to ourselves?” she sneers at both men, sparing a brief glance at Jamie. Her brows were arched as she approached further “Explain yourselves!” and yet the silence deepened as she came to a stop, her brows arching further as she saw the Avvar man turn his back and Ser Bryton just followed him with a gaze and tight lips. Seemingly and suddenly deaf, it seemed.

Finally, then, she turned to Jamie keeping the exasperation and annoyance from her voice “Well?”

[skyheld]

@mercysought asked: "I never thought I'd see you so vulnerable. It's strange." from anora to shianni

It's uncomfortable, Shianni thinks, but she doesn't say it.

Anora must know she doesn't like being here, on her back on a couch in the Queen's private apartments, shirt and stays staining the floor beside her with blood, while a healer stitches up the knife wound in her side — and not only for the obvious reasons, which is that getting stabbed hurts like hell. No, Anora has to know that Shianni doesn't want to be this helpless in front of her, that she still feels less safe here than in the Alienage, where an assasssin could have entered and left as easy as the stray cats. Anora has to know this, so there's no need for Shianni to say it. It would be unwise. And unkind.

They can never be friends. Their stations make it impossible. Thus they can never want to be vulnerable in front of each other. But to say that out loud?

No. She just smiles, stoic despite the pain, and waits until the healer has left before she says anything. " Speaking of vulnerable... " She pulls her shirt down, grimacing as the stitches pull at her skin. " Your Majesty, this assassin was for you, not for me. I know you're already on it, and there's nothing I can do, but still. I worry. "

She turns her head to look at Queen, trying to read her face. She must be shaken. Shianni is sure these aren't the first assassins to try for the Queen's life, but getting so far as her own chambers? Close enough to actually take the stab — only Shianni was there to throw herself in front? This is Anora's home.

Even injured and in shock, even with the distance of race and rank between them, Shianni wants to reach out to her. Comfort her. Is there anyone she'll confide in? Who will she go to if she needs to break down? Not Shianni — because like her Anora cannot be vulnerable in her presence. It's a privilege they simply don't have.

And yet that doesn't mean she can do nothing.

" The assassin — he thought I was a servant ", she says, brows drawing close together as she thinks back to those brief moments — the footman hovering just a little too close as he poured the tea for the Queen, the teapot clattering to the floor to distract her, the blade flashing in his hand. " That's why he went for you even though I was there — he thought a servant wouldn't care, wouldn't dare. Oh! " Her eyebrows lift with a sudden idea and she sits up, or tries — a stab of pain almost as bad as the stab of the knife makes her freeze in her movement and ease back down. " An elven body guard, your majesty. One who looks like a servant, who doesn't look like she can fight at all, but who can defend you if this ever happens again. Preferably someone with some armour underneath their clothes, but that's beside the point... I have just the woman in mind. "

[avrorean]

    𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐄𝐋𝐒𝐄, 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐅 𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐔𝐑𝐄. . And yet something about an assassination attempt now as opposed to what she had endured during the Blight felt more like a blow. She hadn’t even found a charming friend out of it. The mage did her best with what she had gleaned in her year amidst the Blight, but negotiations in wartime held different weight than longstanding and learned leaders looking to her for guidance. Hazel eyes lock with the icy blue of the queen, and Nanna felt herself envying Anora for the air of experience she carried with such grace.

    “’Tis...an ordeal, I must admit, Your Majesty,” she admitted with a weary smile. “Certainly  different than leading armies from a countryside.”

                                                 @mercysought​ || starter call

[contrariian-archive]

@mercysought said: ’ is it really just me holding it together with one loose string that i can’t stop pulling? ’

       SOMETIMES ,  YSEULT  LOOKS  AT  HER  QUEEN  and  all  she  can  think  is  :  you  are  so  much  like  your  father .   everyone  who  knew  celia  mac  tir  will  swear  to  andraste  that  anora  takes  after  her  mother ,  and  they  aren’t  wrong ,  but  yseult  sees  so  much  of  loghain  in  this  woman  who  was  once  a  babe  she  held  in  her  arms .   anora  is  better-suited  to  ruling  than  her  father  ever  could  hope  to  be ,   but  the  crown  weighs  on  her  all  the  same .

        thankfully ,   she  has  a  general  who  would  sooner  burn  ferelden  to  the  ground  than  let  harm  come  to  her .

      ‘  you  worry  like  a  mabari  with  a  bone ,  ’   yseult  says  fondly ,  reaching  out  to  rest  her  hand  lightly  upon  anora’s  shoulder .   ‘  but  no .   it  isn’t  just  you .   the  rest  of  the  landsmeet  is  simply  as  good  as  hiding  their  stress  as  you  are .  ’    she  sighs  a  little ,  rubs  a  gentle  circle  with  her  thumb .   ‘  you  know  you  don’t  need  to  hold  it  together  alone ,  pup .  ’   normally  she  wouldn’t  dare  be  so  informal ,   but  they  are  alone  in  anora’s  chambers  and  yseult  suspects  that  the  last  thing  she  needs  right  now  is  a  reminder  of  her  title .  

      ‘  i’ve  carried  greater  burdens  than  this .  ’   and  i  promised  your  father  i’d  take  care  of  you .  i  promised  your  mother .   i  promised  myself .

 THE WORDS I SPEAK ARE WILDFIRES AND WEEDS | ACCEPTING

[praeludio]

✏️ for anora and domeric during the time that he's improving from the poisoning + getting to rob's war? their friendship during that point and interactions?

— they were friends as children but lost contact during the years dom spent in the vale. the first time they met again is while dom is still in bed, recovering from his brother’s attempt on his life. she spends an entire day at his side and it is as if they never parted ways.

— she becomes one of the few he allows by his side as he recovers, as he doesn’t like to be seen in that stage by most. the first time he leaves the dr.eadfort, after falling ill, is with anora: they go riding and return hours later, much to the worry of the maester tybald.

— when his father approaches him to tell him the red wedding plans, she’s the only one he shares the plan with: at this point she’s one of the few he trusts and hopes to find someone who shares his family’s view on the war. it is a risk he takes, but she doesn’t disappoint him.

send me “✏️ + a ship“ or “headcanon + a ship” for three ( or more ) random headcanons I have for that ship!  | accepting | @mercysought

[archontem]

"I've always heard that it's the loneliest at the top, somehow I don't think that quite fits you." no, Radonis seemed like the sort of person that ever since coming out of the womb that he was directly placed in the position of archon, the position fitting him like a glove instead of the inverse. // it can be maxima the feeling is true though worguenrlger

« Perhaps not », he conceded.

Queen Anora was not young enough to wonder how her life as a sovereign would be; she’d sat on a throne for quite some time, since before the blight had scourged Ferelden, ten years prior or so. Indeed, she ought to know how one would feel, comfortable on the thorns of rulership. Radonis was left to wonder if she was looking for comfort or, rather, for insight into his character.

Either way, he made an idle gesture with his glass-holding hand, looking away, beyond the parapet of the terrace and towards the sea, shining like dragon scales under the sun.

« Solitude is somewhat relative, your Majesty. Anyone who thinks they can rule alone is a fool, after all — we both know that many work for us and under our orders, and none of these people might be by our side proper, but they are certainly with us. » 

A little smile, that didn’t quite touch his eyes. If not being able to have friends in the common sense of the word (though he was certain that one like Vesanin Aeducan would have feigned mortal offense at not being called one, for what value of friendship there could be between people such as them) and if not being certain whether he could call his lover also his friend, meant solitude, then one was free to call it such. To him, it hardly mattered.

« I am where I wish to be, your Majesty, and I am certain you are too. Loneliness, so to speak, is only a burden if it’s unexpected, or an unforeseen consequence. If I am at all lonely, as loneliness is usually understood, well… », he sipped from his glass, basking in the sun much like his cats would, « I cannot say it bothers me. »

[marblecarved-aa]

@mercysought sent a question: “ ❔ ”

source: send ❔ and i’ll list a couple muses that i’d like to throw at yours !

1. Aurora, Horace and Minerva for The Priestess in her Harry Potter verse. 2. Elphias and Tonks for Maxima in her Harry Potter verse. 3. Goldberry and Treebeard for The Priestess in her Tolkien verse. 3. Lucretia and Lycoris for Anora in her Harry Potter verse. 3. Rhaelle and Shireen for Maxima and Steffon.

[ourdawncomes]

CHARACTER IN FIVE QUOTES

tell us your favourite quotes from your character. give us an idea of who they are five things they’ve said. then tag your friends:

THORA CADASH

CANON:

“I decide what I deserve. Not you.”

“The eyes of every noble in the empire are upon us, your Grace. Remember to smile.”

“I didn’t come here to become a god, Corypheus.”

“The mark is... I thought it was fine. It’s been under control for years. All the demons I’ve fought... all the rifts I closed... I don’t want to die. (Sighs) Not knowing the world still needed me.”

“You all know what this is. A writ from Divine Justinia authorising the formation of the Inquisition. We pledged to close the Breach, find those responsible, and restore order. With or without anyone’s approval. But if the Inquisition now threatens the very stability it helped create, it is clear our time is done. We will not become what we once fought against. We do not have the luxury of corruption and complacency. If this organisation has become too large to do its job, there is only one solution. Effective immediately, the Inquisition is disbanded.

RP:

“Then maybe we have more in common than most people think.”

“No, I– it’s just like picking if I want to get hit by a hammer or a sword. Either way, it’ll hurt.”

“All I know is I kept walking, miles after I wanted to stop. Maybe it was the Maker that kept me going... maybe it was just me.”

[at Cadash Thaig] “Because they were better than that.” Thora’s answer is quick and sure, as if she had been there herself. “Whatever happened to the elves, whether it was Tevinter, or other elves, there were people who needed help, and Cad’halash… my people… helped them. Sometimes, being Inquisitor, it felt like people were making me out to be all the things I was never meant to be, but this… and that golem my house got exiled for. It makes everything seem more right, somehow. Like I was always meant to help, always meant to… do good. Probably sounds stupid, huh?”

“Just in this age, dwarves have invented smokeless forges and– machines, just powered by hot air. My people can do more than just imagine a world beyond the physical… they make it real.”

tagged by: i stole it from sb but its been in my drafts a while and i forget who. i had to replay trespasser to get some quotes just right. tagging: uhhhh @seahaloed (alistair), @shieldtheself, @pluresque (isabela), @willbeshot, @skyheld​ (adrian or claudine), @mercysought​ (anora), @sunlilted​ (wayu), @altusmage​, @hopewrought​. feel free to steal this, or if i tagged a muse and you’d rather do another feel free to override my suggestion.

[suresaint-moved]

❝ The question then is whether 'tis nobler in the mind to be well liked but ineffectual, or moral but maligned? ❞ from Anora

ask  ,  @mercysought .

“well, it’s selfish, isn’t it? doing nothing because you want to remain well liked.” the witcher’s brows knit together. “imagine this! a plague hits your kingdom, and unbeknownst to your subjects, you know that in the long run, to save the masses, you must impose upon them the ruling that they cannot leave their homes, cannot interact with their neighbours, their friends, their family, because that is the only way that they will not spread the disease. but you also know that, in taking away these liberties, people will be angry at you for it, and potentially dislike you for it, because people are often stupid and find it difficult to understand these things. so, you, fearful of this, give the loosest guidance you can think of, and they’re inadequate for what’s happening. but you’re content in yourself because at least the people will be ignorant enough to like you still, though more will die from it. from your choice. but they will clap for you, and applaud your hard efforts at trying to keep them safe, because they think that you did all that you could for them when the truth is all along you were only looking out for yourself. your reputation. really you have done fuck all, but how funny it is that the people you have condemned still love you for it! where is the nobility in that? there isn’t any. nobility requires selflessness. sacrifice. if you can make the hard choices, even knowing that you will not be liked for it, that is noble.”

[boldrobin-a]

@mercysought​ asked: Don’t trouble yourself on my account. from anora

     ‘ I wouldn’t. ’ 

     You could be forgiven for thinking Robin didn’t know who he was speaking to - save for the fact that he is well acquainted with those who hold power in Ferelden. He has little time for them. Even those as well-received as Queen Anora hold little standing in Robin’s opinion; why should anyone stand so highly above the rest of society? 

     Especially when that society is buckling under the weight of a war, of crisis upon crisis. Fine a queen as he is told she is, Robin feels no love for the woman when he sees the struggles her people are facing. She would be wise not to expect any warmth from the outlaw. 

     He thinks to pass her by - moves, even, to do so, showing no respect. Something stops him in his tracks, however. He turns, eyeing her men only briefly before returning his gaze to the woman herself, and he frowns. Wise enough is he not to steal from her - at least not so blatantly, not in broad daylight and surrounded by her guards - but he will still speak his mind. 

     ‘ But you might care to trouble yourself on behalf of your people. Tell me, does our most gracious Queen feast well in her castle? ’ He raises his brows. ‘ Families starve all across the Hinterlands. It’s even worse in the Bannorn. Why must we rely on the Inquisition? ’ 

[eritvita]

❝ I have sacrificed more than you could possibly know for their futures. ❞ from anora

@mercysought

Normally, an argument with the High Queen of Blight-Fought Ferelden wouldst bring Roland to the glorious possibility for Pause: thus of the primitive fear of a beheading, a hanging, a lifetime locked in iron shackles in the dankest cell of the darkest dungeon, or e’en the living Nightmare of a Templar jailer, and all the long hours of reliving his vibrant, criminal past in dangerously-creative ways ...

But art his nerves frayed, and art his long friends dead, and is naught the sky glowing green and consistently birthing new abominations so alike his private nightmares? And wouldst Roland soon see his Father’s face amidst these howling demons, and wouldst soon smell the fresh blood of his own, slain Mother?

“But is thus enough?” argues he, naught of the raised voice but of the passionate Throat: “Is thus enough to show humanity to those that desperately require thus? Call them rebels!” invites he. “Call them black-hands and thieves and paupers, call them demons in gilded rags! The epitome of Change cannot be achieved if the entirety of Southern Thedas treats men, woman, and children as walking bombs fit for the tooth’d Void! E’en to change the common speech is necessary, my Queen, and thou art beholden to it!”

Quotes taken from Black Sails season 1.

[immobiliter]

       We do not need to decide anything now. It could actually be preferable that we didn't. And so they didn't. They returned to the celebrations, to the merriment of the Hogmanay season with Jenny and Ian and their brood of children and grandchildren. They said nothing more in public of their plans to wed, only during those few, precious moments they were able to steal away alone — where they eventually decided that an announcement should be made after the holiday celebrations, after Jenny's other children returned to their own estates and land and the atmosphere at Lallybroch finally calmed down.

       But there was also one more thing they wished to do first. Jamie had made a promise to take Anora to her parents home, and then to their graves. They rode out a week later, a short trip across the countryside to the bordering estate — land that Anora and Jamie had frequently played in as children. The Mac Tir estate, too, was like taking a step back into his childhood; Jamie had nearly spent as much time here as a lad as he had at Castle Leoch.

       Though it was sans the familiar faces; of the stable hands and servants, of Loghain himself. He had been a prickly, difficult man — much like Jamie's uncle, Dougal MacKenzie — but a staunch defender of the Scots right to rule themselves. Jamie had always respected him, and when he and Claire had called for bannermen to accompany them to the Bonnie Prince's side, Loghain had been one of the first to answer the call. He knew that Anora must envy him somewhat, for fighting alongside the man in what would be the final months of his life.

       There were many mens' deaths on his hands following that fateful day at Culloden, many men who ought to have lived — certainly ahead of himself, begrudging survivor of the battle as he was. Loghain was certainly among them, though Jamie wondered how he may have fared after defeat, a traitor to the Crown and thrown in Ardsmuir Prison like the rest of them.

       Jamie and Anora halted a short distance away from the estate itself, dismounting their horses and leading them a little further along the winding path. It might court suspicion to get too close. “ I dinna ken who lives here now. With you in England, the Mac Tir line died out with your father. ” There were no other heirs to inherit the estate, and with Loghain declared a traitor, it was likely the English seized his assets following the Uprising. Jenny was only able to keep Lallybroch because Jamie signed it over to his nephew before the battle was fought at Culloden Moor all those years ago. “ I suspect you could stake a claim on it now, but that may mean rudely casting out the current tenants. ”

Anora glances up to Jamie with a shadow of embarrassment, but with a swift inhale she feels the grin on her lips grow only slightly when her eyes return to their hands. This was perhaps the most reckless thing she had done for a very long time, with minimal planning she had moved to Scotland without much thought of what she truly should do. She had enough that she wouldn’t need to be overtly concerned, enough to live a comfortable life. Not as lavish as the life in London would have provided it, but what use was that comfort when it was in the shape of a cage?

  “I would like to remain, yes.” until the air around perhaps hurt too much, either him or her. Until the weight of their names threatened to crack their aging bones. Truthfully she didn’t think she would ever want to leave, but then she never thought she would ever leave England. She thought that she would be buried next to Cailan and yet that felt like a whole different life now too “I have to admit I didn’t thought much beyond just… leaving.“

Her desires and planning had been made with little direction beyond the base wants that she had kept within for many years. Ever since leaving, ever since knowing of her father’s death “I know only that I want to visit my parents’ grave. Perhaps the house? To just…“ 

she stops herself and for that moment, holding Jamie’s hand tighter, she feels herself as child again trying to justify why she should go to town by herself.

  “My, do I sound foolish,” she breathes out, sparing only a second long glance to Jamie and then back to the figures that moved just beyond the almost closed door “but, I suppose, I just want to see it.“

The large stone walls, the vines that kissed the rusting sills. The tower that her mother used to build small dolls and furniture for her to play with when she could barely climb those same steps. There was no real reason to return there, she didn’t know its face but at the best of cases it was now the home of someone that made her father’s skin crawl. It could just be rubble. Anora looked to the family beyond and wondered which option would make her feel better.

  “We do not need to decide anything now, it could actually be preferable that we didn’t.” she feels herself snap back to the present, turning to face Jamie with a smile. Though she agreed, a large city where they could just be someone among a crowd sounded perfect. She didn’t wish to live with Jenny and her family nor on a castle for herself.

Speaking of, her attention falls on Jenny who is looking with a crooked brow around the room to her children and briefly to Laoghaire. Anora could swear she saw a small grin in her face as she glances towards the door “I feel we have stretched our luck far enough, Jenny seems to have noticed our absence.“ 

She squeezes his hand before releasing it “Shall we?“

[skyheld]

@mercysought​ said:  The land teems with bitter ghosts. from anora to claudine!   |  SEND ME MEMES Y’ALL

Claudine bows her head under the smoke-darkened sky,  a rare,  sombre mood upon her like clouds dulling the splendour of the sun.   Denerim is still smouldering,  and will be for days yet.   Hundreds of fires dot the lands around,  stark against the tar-black fields and the abandoned villages.   On the roof of Fort Drakon the archdemon lies dead,  the act of removing it a feat of engineering that has yet to be figured out.   Morrigan has left.   Alistair has left.   She cared little for them,  and yet their absence is felt.

No,  even her brightness is dimmed today.

She looks to the Queen.   Regal and composed beside her on the battlements,  Anora is a picture of strength to the people who might be watching from below,  but her words seem to hint otherwise.   She has plenty to worry about.   For what was lost,  and what will come  ---  the long,  slow task of rebuilding which lays before her.   Perhaps that’s what she sees,  with her gaze on the horizon.   Claudine doesn’t know.   They’re strangers,  for all that they stand beside each other now as the saviours of this kingdom.

But I put all my coins on you for some reason,  so you better deliver something good.   I made you Queen.   You’d just dare to be a weak one.

“ Dwarves do not become ghosts “,  she says.   “ Real dwarves,  that is  ---  Orzammar dwarves.    We return to the Stone from which we came,  where we belong.   The only marks we leave on this world are in the things we do and  the things we make.   Those are the only shadows our lives cast behind us. “

It’s seldom that she shares anything about her former home like this.   Trivial things,  yes.   Everyone who has travelled with her this past year knows how much better the food,  the pillows,  the servants,  the jewelry in Orzammar is compared to Ferelden;  they’ve heard the complaints to death.   But what her people believe,  what she believes  ---  she has kept those things close.   Where her heart would be if she thought she had one.

But something makes her speak.

“ I suppose we’re lucky. “   Her smile is crooked;  it’s not really a smile.   “ Because if there were dwarven ghosts,  they would outnumber the living.   They would outnumber you humans.   Every corner of Thedas,  all but seas and islands  ---  there would be ghosts under the surface,  trapped with the darkspawn.   I suppose we’re lucky,  because even though we can never forget what we lost,  at least we can pretend we’re still something compared to what we were.   When truly...”

“ ...truly,  imagine Denerim was all you had left.   Everything within these walls youd had,  and nothing more.   Imagine those black fields continued to the end of the world,  and that all your people but the ones in here were dead.   This city,  your city,  and nothing else.   Not even a road leading from it.   That is Orzammar. “

She's not looking at the Queen.   She’s not sure what she’s trying to tell her.   Don’t be upset,  because we had it worse?   That’s useless.   If she believed something like that Claudine herself would never be upset,  because she was born a princess and had it better than most.   That has never stopped her from feeling sorry for herself.   Not once.

And the whole comforting others thing is tedious,  if that’s even what she’s trying to do.

“ You’ll be fine “,  she says,  turning to leave.   “ Ferelden will be fine.   Grieve,  if you like  ---  but don’t worry too much about ghosts.   They don’t matter.   Neither do Memories at the end of the day. “

It’s the living who matter.   She almost says it,  but it feels too personal.   Too intimate.   It’s us.

Even if they strike us from the memories,  or if ghosts condemn us for our failures,  it’s still us who matter.

[tabridahl]

@mercysought​ asked:  ‘ by the morning i am a triumph ’ // from Anora

        ❝ I don’t understand why they’re so eager to kick you off the throne. ❞ Will she ever truly understand how nobles work? How humans work? Probably not. However, Nalaea saw no point in removing the queen from her throne. Alistair voiced time and again that he didn’t want to be king and Anora knows what she's doing. The choice was clear before she voiced it. Regardless of Eamon’s preaching about putting a Theirin on the throne, there was no way Nalaea would force her fellow Gray Warden into this.

        ❝ By the morning, the throne will be yours. And then we’ll prepare to take on the darkspawn together. ❞

[ourpyrrhicvictory]

SEND 🎰 FOR ME TO PUT OUR MUSES INTO A RANDOM LIST GENERATOR THEN POST THE FIRST FIVE AS POTENTIAL SHIPS! | always accepting.

@mercysought​ sent a 🎰 for five potential ships

the priestess x arthur weasley

himsulem x antares lestrange

maxima x regulus black

moe x isabel zabini

anora x isaiah proudfoot

emilie x ted tonks

loane x rowan savage

the gentleman x abraxas malfoy

zofia x viktor krum

[praeludio]

speaking of domeric, Anora likes him because he's one of her closest friends and one of the only people that seems to care about her opinions or her well being. They talk and it's fun. She hates that he convinces her to do the most terrible things (:

at least...... he’s a good friend........ when he’s not in the middle of betraying his king and pushing anora right into it as well :v

tell me what your muse loves and hates the most about my muse | accepting | @mercysought