#princess caterina

[dittomander]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Elena of Avalor (Cartoon) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Isabel Castillo Flores/Caterina of Cariza Characters: Isabel Castillo Flores, Caterina of Cariza Additional Tags: Elena and Joaquin are there too but they don't do much, Fluff, Romantic Fluff, First Kiss, Butterflies, Science, Post-Canon

Summary: Isabel visits Cariza to spend some time with Cat in the new butterfly conservatory.

Happy (very belated) Valentine’s Day! I’m back on my rarepair bs with a duo I’ve been thinking about since I got this ask back like 4 years ago, and I have been meaning to post (coughwritecough) this fic every February since. Anyway, I just think they’re cute. Enjoy!

[austin-friars]

I just realized the significants of Caterina Sforza and Cesare Borgia fighting, it was literally an actual battle of the bastards.

[historicalreusedcostumes]

This Beautiful Italian-style gown is worn on Gina McKee as Caterina Sforza in the 2012 second season of The Borgias (2012) and many years later worn on Alexandra Moen as Queen Elizabeth of York in The Spanish Princess (2019)

[royalpain16]

None of the princesses know better than 19-year-old Catharina-Amalia, the Dutch heir to the throne, that the perks of royal life come with drawbacks. Amalia, as she’s known, is the eldest child of King Willem-Alexander and Queen Máxima, and will be the fourth queen regnant since her great-great-grandmother Wilhelmina became the first queen of the Netherlands in 1890. 

Amalia—who has two younger sisters, princesses Alexia and Ariane—is the first Dutch princess to have had her place in the line of succession secured since birth; she was born in 2003, two decades after the Netherlands amended its constitution in 1983 to follow absolute primogeniture. As the heir apparent, she holds the title Princess of Orange. 

Amalia has publicly tried to navigate the delicate balance of carrying out her royal duties while pursuing “normal” activities for someone her age. When Amalia turned 18 in 2022, she became a member of the Netherlands’ Council of State. At the same time, the princess turned down the $1.8 million annual support she’s entitled to from the government as the heir apparent, saying she was currently doing nothing to earn it. That same year, Amalia began studying at the University of Amsterdam to earn a degree in Politics, Psychology, Law and Economics. 

However, the princess’s university experience quickly took a frightening turn when a Dutch criminal group threatened to kidnap and assassinate her. Amalia moved back in with her parents in the royal palace in The Hague near Amsterdam and now attends lectures with a security escort. She has said she misses the freedom she had as a student living on her own.

- article by Samantha Drake

[shisabun]

Before I start, I just want to say thank you to the husbands, brothers, and fathers who voted to support their daughters, sisters, and wives. What I'm about to say doesn't include you.

To the women who voted for Trump, you are a disgrace. Thanks to you, your children and grandchildren will be forced to fight the war that was won by your grandmothers.

You sit content and joyful while others mourn. You laugh in the face of their fears when there's a knife floating above your head poised to fall. You have no idea what's coming, but any woman with half a braincell does.

Let me tell you a story. My great aunt was basically my grandmother. She was born in the 1930s in Spain. Right after their revolution. Right after Spain became a dictatorship. She told me so many stories in her final years that I'll keep with me for the rest of my life. But I'll give one example.

One of her closest friends married young. Her husband claimed she was unfaithful and literally beat her to death. He was never arrested. He was never convinced. He walked away free and remarried in less than a month. Catholicism wouldn't allow divorce back then. He wanted to get remarried and simply got away with it because he was a cop. Franco gave cops full impunity. So does Project 2025.

I know some people reading this are rolling their eyes, and you know what?

Fuck. You. You are trash.

That girl was murdered at 20, and her killer walked free after openingly admitting it. My Tia never told me her name, but she carried her in her heart until the day she died at 98. And so do I.

To my fellow women who are mourning and scared right now, I'll give you the same advice my mother gave me. "Have your cry. Then get up and get things done. You're strong enough not to have this break you."

You are Mary and Esther. You are Caterina Sforza. You are Princess Diana. You are Anna May Wong. You are the living legacy of every woman who has come before you. You carry their strength, their courage, and their determination.

This shit is going to suck. Pure and simple. But we'll do what we've always done. We'll bite and claw our way to a better future. We'll tear down every obstacle so our children and grandchildren will have an easier path to walk.

We are dragons in human form. Steel your heart and give them nothing. Do not give them your affection, your care, or your bodies. Fuck being demure and mindful. When they spew hate, you spit fire. When they ask for your smile, you give them your fangs. Become a walking inferno that they have no choice but to take note of. Do not yield.

You are powerful, and you are not alone. You are a sister in a coven that is millions strong. You are the daughters of the witches they couldn't burn.

To my fellow Millennials. I know you're tired. Our young adult lives were stolen from us, and we've been struggling uphill ever since. But do what the previous generation never did for us. Fight. Fight for the ones that are entering adulthood. Fight for the children who have no idea what they're about to grow into.

They called us snowflakes for pointing out their flaws. Fine. Let's give them a fucking blizzard. If they try to build momentum, we stop them. We are at the age where we need to be both shield and anchor. Let. Nothing. Pass.

We're about to face an orange shitstorm of epic proportions. But we'll do as we've always done. We fight, we endure, and we win. In the words of Samwise Gamgee, "There's good in this world, and it's worth fighting for."

[covingtons]

brighton's queens (and almost queens)

1. Queen Claricia - wife of King James "The Great" 2. Queen Helena - wife of King Phillip 3. Queen Caterina - wife of King Evrard 4. Queen Elera - wife of King Marcel 5. Queen Maria - wife of King Charles I 6. Queen Rosamund - wife of King George 7. Queen Ingrid - wife of King Edward I 8. Queen Anne - wife of King Robert 9. Queen Margaret - wife of King Charles II 10. Queen Regent Phillippa - wife of Crown Prince Edric † 11. Queen Mary - wife of King Edward II 12. Queen Elizabeth - wife of King Richard 13. Queen Adeline - wife of King Alexander 14. Queen Isabella - wife of King Edward III 15. Queen Madeline - wife of King Arthur 16. Queen Lorena - wife of King Charles III 17. Queen Genevieve - wife of King James II 18. Queen Felicity ♕ 19. Cecilia, Dowager Princess of Ashmere - wife of Crown Prince Felix † 20. Queen Liliana - wife of King Harrison

† indicates royal consorts whose husbands died before they could succeed to the throne ♕ indicates queen regnant

insp: @funkyllama x | @warwickroyals x | @thegrimalldis x | @trentonsimblr x | @royaltysimblr x

[vaguely-concerned]

the way lucanis looks over at rook when they make the connection/pick up teia's implication that the opal ring could be a message from caterina..... I stand by my assertion that I think rook showing that they're clever might make lucanis feel some type of way now more than ever fhdskjfsd

the little... disney princess ass blinks are fucking killing me

[rookinthecrownest]

Bedtime Stories for a Demon, Night 1: The Sleeping Princess (Lucanis x Rook Fanfic)

“Lucanis?”

Some assassin, he thinks bitterly, as Rook’s soft voice breaks him out of his reverie. She finds him sitting at the dining room table, staring at the fire with a cup of now cold coffee in his hands. He didn’t hear her come in.

Caterina would’ve given him at least ten lashes with her cane for letting someone sneak up on him like that.

His mind, lately, was a restless sea. Waves of him and Spite crash over each other, fighting to rise above the din. Fighting for control. And like the moon pushes and pulls the tides at night, Spite’s influence becomes harder to ignore in the waning hours of the evening. Sometimes it was hard to pay attention to anything but Spite rattling the bars of the prison that was Lucanis’ mind.

On most nights he finds himself alone in the pantry, or the dining room, with only a flickering fire and the demon in his head for company. Until a few moments ago that is.

“Rook” he manages a pleasant, tired smile while turning towards her. “You’re up late”

She shrugs and pulls up a chair beside him, now rimmed in the warm orange glow of the fire. “Thought you might want some company – you know, after the whole…” she gestures vaguely in his direction, and he doesn’t need any further elaboration.

He remembers feeling tired, so tired after their last mission. A bone-weariness that only came with the kind of world-ending threats they were becoming entirely too accustomed to handling. Three cups of his strongest brew hadn’t been enough to curb the knife’s edge of sleep deprivation. He remembers sitting upright in his cot and closing his eyes for just a moment.  Then, he was in the basement hallway with the Vir’Evas Eluvian, surrounded by Harding, Rook - and the terrible realization that Spite had taken him for a walk.

Perhaps it was his brutal training at the hands of his grandmother, perhaps it was his own stubbornness, but he hated to make them worry. Especially Rook, who already carried the weight of the world on her small shoulders and the voice of an Elven god in her head. Dealing with a sleepwalking abomination was probably the last thing she needed to be worried about.

“I’m fine” he lies, and stares down at his coffee. His grip on the handle of his mug tightens. Rook’s bright green eyes flicker down to his hands, and he knows she doesn’t believe his words any more than he does. “As I said before – Spite is my burden to bear. Please, go get some sleep, Rook”

Her face falls just a little at that.

“Would if I could” she starts, “You won’t sleep, I can’t sleep – I figure we might as well be night owls together. But if I’m bothering you, I’ll go”

He doesn’t know her well enough yet to catch if she is lying about not being able to sleep – but he imagines she has plenty of her own worries big enough to keep her up at night.

When he doesn’t answer, Rook moves to get out of her chair.

Lucanis quickly waves her back down into her seat.

“No, no, no bother at all” He raises his cup to her in a cheer, “I’ll be glad for the company”

He swirls the cold coffee in his cup, before looking back up at Rook.

“Coffee? I’m going to make a fresh pot” he asks, rising from his place. Rook gives an appreciative nod, the corners of her eyes crinkling with another smile.

“I’d love some, thanks”

Rook is silent until his return from the kitchen, with a cup of freshly made coffee – real coffee, in each hand. None of that instant boiled bean water that Neve had a habit of making.

As he hands her the cup, he notices something in her lap that wasn’t there before. A small journal. Its bindings were tattered and frayed, the colour had faded from what he presumed was a bright crimson to a more muted shade of red, and the pages were yellowed with time.

“What is that?” he asks, taking his place in front of the fire once more.

Rook sets the steaming cup of coffee aside on the table, so she can begin flipping through its worn pages. A musty, acrid smell like old mothballs hangs in the air, and for a brief moment, he’s a boy in the Dellamorte estate’s library running wild between tall, marble bookshelves seeking mischief and knowledge in equal measure.

“My father’s old journal” Rook thumbs through the pages more carefully now, and her voice grows soft.

“He was a Bard in his youth. Toured all over Thedas with his troupe. As he went, he wrote down stories from across the continent” She leans her chin against her hand and smiles fondly at the little book in her hand. “Never imagined he’d be collecting bedtime stories for a future daughter”

There was a softness in her voice that he was not accustomed to hearing, tinged with the barest echo of grief. This is the first time in the few weeks they had known each other that Rook mentioned any kind of family. He notes her use of past tense and decides not to pry, much as he finds himself growing ever curious about his new companion.

Companions.

Rook looks down at the book again before meeting his eyes. They were almost pleading.

“I thought... maybe you’d like to hear one. You know, to help pass the time?”

He thinks of refusing, of telling her she needs to rest, that there is little sense in them both being sleep deprived because of Spite. There is something in her eyes that stops him from turning her down. An emotion he cannot quite name but feels akin to longing. Not quite sadness, not quite nostalgia – somewhere in between.

He quickly comes to the realization that this may be as much for her, as it is for him. Lucanis remembers the comfort that reading old stories brought him. He can picture, in striking detail, the book on Wyvern physiology he stole from the Dellamorte library as a child. He knows the contents of each page by heart, because he can still hear Illario's grumbling about wanting him to shut up about Wyverns echoing through his distant memories. He would read it by candlelight until late in the evening, ready to extinguish the flame and hide the book under his pillow at a moment’s notice if Caterina came by.

He decides that if he can help her by simply listening to a story, he will. Rook spends most of her free time trying to fix everyone else’s problems. Always flitting to and from each room in the Lighthouse like a hummingbird, fretting over the team. The Crows were already indebted to her efforts against the Antaam, and she made it a point to help him with both Spite and tracking down Zara. With all that in consideration, he feels it would be a rather poor show to refuse. That and another feeling he didn’t have a name for, keeps him from rejecting her company tonight.

“Alright” He sighs and takes a sip of his coffee before leaning back in his chair. “Let’s hear it”

Lucanis ignores the skipped beat in his chest as she beams widely.

She claps her hands together and straightens in her chair. “Wonderful!”

“So, what tale will you tell tonight?”

“Have you ever heard the old Tevene story about the Sleeping Princess?” she asks excitedly, crossing her legs in her chair like an impatient child about to be served dessert. She’s practically oscillating with excitement in her seat.

Lucanis smiles at that.

“No, I can’t say I have”

“It’s one of my favourites” she gushes, picking up the journal again and flipping to the correct page. Ringlets of rich brown hair sweep over her shoulder as she does so, and he decides to focus on his coffee instead, before he’s caught staring.

“Aha” her brow furrows as she quickly scans the contents of the journal. “Alright, here we go”

Rook sets the journal aside once more and takes a quick sip of her coffee. He doesn’t miss the way she savours the brew. He knew she enjoyed coffee from their meeting at Café Pietra with Illario, but it was nice to know she appreciated his coffee as much as theirs.

He raises an eyebrow when Rook starts cracking her knuckles – and her neck, then readies her hands in the same pose he’s seen her use for magic.

“What are you doing?”

“You’ll see” she grins conspiratorially.

“If you’re about to throw a fireball at me – “

“Relax, relax” Rook shakes her head, and whispers “Magic has more uses than fighting”

He can feel Spite stirring in the dark recess of his mind and does his best to ignore it.

Rook’s delicate hands begin glowing with blue light, and to his astonishment, a moment later she conjures a fully realized image of a castle, floating in the space between them. He can see the spires, turrets, and even the wrought-iron gates in clear, astonishing detail. Lucanis leans forward to inspect the castle as it rotates in mid-air, giving him views of every side. Even the masonry and statues have an immaculate degree of realism. It was almost as if she had taken a real castle and shrunk it down.

“How …?” He is not usually one to be rendered speechless, but it was not every day he is exposed to new types of magic - and when he was, historically, that hasn't always been a good thing for him. Spite rumbling under his skin reminds him of that.

“I learned to do it back in my Circle days. It was my thesis work – the use of the Fade to create projections of objects from one’s minds” her pride in her castle falls when she continues to explain, “The senior enchanters thought it a waste of effort and I barely passed my final year – they couldn’t see a use for it past getting their children to sleep. I suppose if magic can’t be used to some terrible, destructive end, it gets relegated to a novice’s thesis statement to be buried in the Circle’s archives and never touched again”

“It’s incredible Rook” he breathes. The words leave his mouth before he can stop them. He’s not sure if it’s the warmth of the fire, or something else, but he swears a faint tinge of red creeps from her neck up to her ears.

He desperately wants to reach out and touch the castle, but keeps his hands firmly on his coffee cup, worried he may ruin her concentration.

Rook’s eyes crinkle with her smile, wide and genuine. He’s never seen her smile like that, and it feels utterly disarming.

He brings his coffee cup to his lips again, about to take a sip.

“Thank you, Lucanis” Her voice is sweeter than the coffee on his lips.

“You’re welcome” is all he manages to choke out, leaning away from the castle to give himself some distance to regain control of his faculties.

Rook clears her throat, “I ahh, guess I should get on with the story, hmm?”

Lucanis nods and takes another sip of coffee, feeling the warmth spread through him but he is not entirely certain it’s from the coffee alone.

“I would say you’re burning moonlight, but given where we are …”

He smiles when Rook chuckles at his terrible attempt at humour, and he appreciates it even if it is forced on her end, but it feels genuine enough. Everything about Rook was genuine.

Her focus returns to the castle in front of them.

“Once upon a time, in a land far away, there was a small kingdom”

She waves her hands in a fluid motion and the solitary castle morphs into a bird’s eye view of that same castle perched on top of a hill, overlooking a small village.

“And in that kingdom, there lived a King and a Queen, much beloved by their people.”

The castle and village disappear. They are now replaced with two figures sitting on matching thrones upon a simple dais. In the thrones sit a man and a woman, each with a crown decorating their foreheads.

“The King and Queen longed desperately for a child of their own and had tried for many years to make it so. ‘Would that we had a child!’, the King cried, and yet, their child remained a dream.”

As she said those words, the mouth of the king moved in tandem.

He can’t imagine the amount of concentration it must be taking to accomplish telling a story, maintaining an illusion, and making an illusion talk. He continues to sit there in awe, with only his training keeping his jaw from hanging on the floor.

The corner of her lips pull down into a slight frown.

“The Queen would not accept the words of her physician, who told her bearing a child was not possible for her, for there was a sickness in her womb that would prevent it”

The image morphed into the Queen hunched over on the floor, on all fours, sobbing. It looks so real he is convinced he could hear her agonized cries.

Now, the Queen has traded her crown for a traveller's cloak. She floats aimlessly in the air between them, the cloak billowing on an invisible wind.

“The Queen, unbeknownst to the King, set off to seek the knowledge of a Spirit from the Fade. When she eventually finds one,” Rook pauses and waves her left hand to bring forth the image of an amorphous spirit in front of the Queen. “She wastes no time asking the Spirit if it could help her conceive a child”

The spirit continues to float above the figure of the queen, who is now on her knees looking up at it, hands clasped as if in prayer.

“The Spirit asks if she is prepared to do anything to have a child. The Queen fervently answers that she would give up anything – do anything for an heir.” The figure of the Queen bows down to the Spirit in deference. “Satisfied, the Spirit gives her knowledge of a ritual that could provide her with a child. It would take several mages and the sacrifice of an innocent, but that was the only way to cure the sickness from her womb and carry a child. ‘Do this, and your child will grow in grace and beauty. Hair spun in gold, lips as red as the rose. She will walk with spring time wherever she goes. Her song will put nightingales and larks to shame’”

Blood magic. Figures this story comes from Tevinter.

“But be warned” The Spirit holds up a hand, “Should the Princess ever prick her finger on the spindle of a spinning wheel and draw blood, she will die”

The figure of the Queen hurriedly nods, before disappearing into nothing.

“The Queen quickly returns to the kingdom and enlists the help of her council of Magi”

The figure of the Queen returns to its original appearance. She is now surrounded by seven cloaked figures, each carrying a stave in their hands. The form of a young woman is chained, on her knees, in the middle of them all.

“They had their sacrifice, and the knowledge on how to perform the ritual” Her voice is quiet, almost strained.

The figures appear to be chanting now. The faint blue glow of the form of the young woman slowly turns red, with some concentration on Rook’s part. A moment later, the form is swallowed by red light and disappears. Veins of red climb like vines and weave their way into the figure of the Queen, settling on her stomach, before fading from sight.

Rook’s frown deepens and her brows draw closely together. The figures of the King and Queen morph into an embrace. And quickly after, they are sitting on their thrones, side-by-side, with the Queen’s belly swollen with child.

“The King had no idea about the ritual. He was ecstatic, of course, at the prospect of finally having a child” Rook said. “And so he didn’t question it when the Queen asked that every spinning wheel in the kingdom be burned to ensure her safety”

The pair disappear, and now, a large pile of spinning wheels, burning with blue flames, takes their place.

It disappears soon after, and the image of a baby is conjured in its place. She is sleeping soundly in an intricately carved wooden cot.

“The Princess, who they called Rosaea, was perfect. And just as the Spirit had said, she would indeed grow in grace and beauty” The form of the baby changes to that of a young woman, with long, flowing hair and a beautiful face. “She was loved by all her people, for she had a kind heart. She lived happily with her parents and was adorned of gifts from her people, the nobility, and suitors alike. But things would not stay that way for long.”

The image of the princess disappears. The scene shifts to the King, Queen, and the Princess together at the gates of the Kingdom.

“Urgent business with another Kingdom called the King and Queen away, and so the Princess was left to wander the castle by herself”

Rook waves a hand and the Princess walks alone, before coming to the form of an old woman hunched over a spinning wheel.

The princesses mouth moves in tandem with Rook’s words.

“You there, madam” The princess says, pointing to the wheel. “What is it that you are doing?’ She asks, for she had never seen a spinning wheel before”

The figure of the old woman turns towards the princess and beckons her closer, “I am spinning, dear girl’, it answers” The figure of the princess moves closer to the spinning wheel. She leans over it, and asks, “What is that thing that twists around so briskly?”

No sooner had she said the words and taken the spindle into her hand, there is a flash of red light, and the figure of the princess is on the floor. Not dead, but sleeping, for he can see the rise and fall of her chest.

The old woman first morphs into the spirit from before, the one that spoke with the Queen, and then it changes again into a twisted creature - all horns, claws, and jagged edges. One he was all too familiar with. A demon.

“The Spirit the Queen had spoken with was no Spirit at all, it was a Terror demon in disguise.” Rook explains, waving her hand through the illusion of the girl and the demon towering over her, erasing it from existence.

It is at this moment that Lucanis realizes he’s forgotten to breathe. He draws a deep breath, and leans forward, resting his forearms on his legs. His coffee sits abandoned on the table, as does Rook’s. Spite is practically vibrating behind his eyes.

“Well, go on” he gestures at her.

Rook grins, evidently satisfied with her work. “Impatient, are we?”

Lucanis smirks, “Spite wants to know how it ends”

“And you’re not the least bit curious?” She crosses her arms in front of her chest, looking at him doubtfully.

He distracts himself with a sip of coffee, miraculously still somewhat warm. “I might be”

Rook chuckles and shakes her head, mirroring him by bringing her own coffee to her lips. She licks her lips and sighs, and he tries to look anywhere but her mouth. For a moment, he finds himself preoccupied with his own shoes.

“Sorry, I was feeling a bit parched there. On with the story” She rings out her hands and brings them back into position. That familiar blue glow envelops them again. He feels its safe to meet her gaze again.

“The Terror Demon’s ritual didn’t just affect the Princess, it affected the whole Kingdom. One by one, everyone fell into a deep slumber, just like the princess”

He watches intently as the castle courtyard morphs into view between them. Figures of soldiers and servants alike start falling asleep in place, dropping like wilting flowers. The courtyard disappears and returns to another view of the entire kingdom. Large, twisted brambles begin enveloping it,He eererere forming an impenetrable wall of thorns encasing everything in sight.

“The King and Queen returned to find their Kingdom gone. They tried rallying support from other kingdoms, but none could breach the Demon’s brambles”

Figures of soldiers and magi alike lobbing magic and arrows and spears at the wall sprang to life. Each volley as useless as the last. She pauses as the image fades, and nothing takes its place.

“And?” Lucanis asks leaning onto his forearms even more.

“And I’m getting there” Rook laughs, flourishing her fingers like she’s conducting an invisible orchestra.

“The Demon’s spell kept the kingdom in a state of eternal slumber. It fed on their fears and nightmares in the Fade while they slept. On the outside, a hundred years had passed, and the King and Queen were long dead. But everyone inside the Kingdom still remained as they were when they were put to sleep”

Two elaborate tombs flickered to life, before fading a moment later.

“Another hundred years passes before a wandering adventurer, pure of heart and mind, and possessing the soul of a true hero, would come to the ruins of the Kingdom, still surrounded by the wall of thorns”

She conjures the image of a handsome-faced young man, in simple chain mail, riding atop a horse.

“But this adventurer was special, you see” Rook whispered and leaned in closer.

Smells like lavender and rosewater, Spite chimes.

“For he had a Spirit of Valor on his side. And the Spirit would see the Terror Demon banished back to the Fade forever”

The figure draws his sword, glowing a bright golden yellow, and pierces the wall of thorns with ease. He continues to cut through the wall and makes his way to the castle.

“There was a great battle between the Demon and the Hero, but the Hero prevails with the help of the Spirit of Valor”

The demon is pierced by the golden sword, and cries out a soundless scream, before disappearing. Now, the entire view of the kingdom is back. The brambles recede like a tide, and one by one, little figures of soldiers and servants begin waking up.

Curiously, when the image fades back to the figure of the princess, she still lies sleeping.

“Why didn’t the princess wake up?” Lucanis asks, his brows drawing together in confusion.

“The Nightmare Demon’s hold on the Princess is stronger than any of the other inhabitants of the Kingdom” Rook explains, shifting in her seat. "It was banished back to the Fade, but not defeated in its entirety. Terror is one of the strongest emotions there is, after all"

The princess and the hero fade from view, and this time, nothing takes their place.

“There has to be more than that” He throws his hands up and shakes his head, before taking another sip of coffee. He nearly spits it out. It’s gone cold. Again. Yet for all his love of caffeinated beverages, the thought of getting up to make another cup doesn’t even cross his mind.

She laughs again, her green eyes twinkling with mirth, “I’m getting there.” She repeats.

“You’re doing this on purpose” He points to her, frowning.

“I have to build suspense somehow!”

Rook raises her hands again, and the figures of the princess and the hero return to view.

“The Hero couldn’t help but be struck by the Princesses’ beauty. He could do nothing else but admire her sleeping form. And he was overcome with the desire to kiss her, for he knew it was love at first sight. He had no way of knowing if it would work – maybe it was his own heart, or maybe it was the Spirit of Valor whispering in his ear, but needed to know if a kiss could wake her from her slumber”

The figure of the prince moves closer to the princess, and hunches over her sleeping form. It leans in and presses a gentle, chaste kiss to her lips.

Both the princess and the hero were soon engulfed in a warm, golden glow. The figure of the princess wakes, and the hero takes her into his arms.

“The princess wakes to find herself in the arms of her rescuer. She and the Hero fall in love. They re-establish the kingdom and ruled together as King and Queen, living happily ever after”

And with a final flick of her wrist, the embracing figures vanish into the ether.

“The End” She says, with a satisfied smirk and a small bow at the waists.

Lucanis leans back in his seat, unable to stop himself from smiling. “That’s it? Everything is fixed with a kiss?”

Rook shrugs innocently, “Aren’t most things?”

He has no time to process that, or the way she’s looking at him while she says it.

“Besides, it wasn’t just a kiss. It was true love’s kiss. Love can be a powerful form of magic in its own right. Just as powerful as Terror - if not more so”

Lucanis frowns. He wishes he could believe that.

“In stories, perhaps” he mutters, swirling the cold coffee around in its cup.

Rook yawns and runs a hand through her wild curls.

“Perhaps” She stands and takes the journal in her hands. She offers him another sweet smile before turning to leave, “Never hurts to believe, though”

As she makes for the dining hall door, Lucanis stands from his chair.

“Rook?” He calls out after her.

She stops and turns, “Yeah?”

“Thank you … for this” he gestures to the fireplace. “For tonight.”

Rook nods, “You’re welcome. I’m glad you liked my story”

“Would you come again tomorrow night?” He asks, entirely too quickly. Convinced he sounds like a lovesick puppy, he wants to kick himself in the shin. Thankfully, he has Spite to do that to his head.

Rooks brows lift in surprise, like she wasn’t expecting him to ask. They quickly settle into a kind expression, one he finds he wants to burn into his memory until its all he can see.

“Yeah, of course” She gives him a small wave, “I’ll see you tomorrow night”

Lucanis returns the wave and returns to the kitchen to brew a fresh pot of coffee.

Meanwhile, Rook leaves the dining hall barely able to keep herself upright.

Being inside the Fade made it much easier for her to draw on her magic, but she’s never used that level of detail and sustained it for so long to tell a story.

Sleep would come easier that night for her from the mana depletion alone.

Lucanis, on the other hand, would stay awake replaying her story in his head over and over again. He would think of how the warm glow of the fireplace cast streaks of orange and gold into her wild curls. How her eyes practically sparkle and the softness of her voice when she tells a story.

But in all the loops of Rook and her story that play in his mind, it escapes his notice that a possessed man is the hero of her tale.

[mythals-whore]

ASSIGNING THE MEMBERS OF THE VEILGUARD A TAYLOR SWIFT ALBUM BECAUSE I CAN!!!

Harding - Debut

Obviously she’s our Ferelden farm girl so this just makes sense, but let me elaborate anyway. Harding is VERY Tied Together with a Smile/ The Outside to me?? Not to mention i feel like she would love the angrier songs Picture to Burn/ should’ve said no. We know how she gets when she’s angry. And you can’t convince me she wouldn’t LOVE Our Song.

Neve - Midnights

Do i even need to explain this one?? Neve gives such Midnights vibes, vigilante shit/mastermind/midnight rain???? Also SO yoyok coded. i feel like her romance is very Labyrinth/Snow on the Beach. And the woman who pets all of docktown’s stray cats is very “karma is a cat” of her idc.

Bellara - Red (TV)

This one was hard! It was between Red and 1989 to me. I just think Bellara would love the high energy pop beats (22, WANEGBT, Starlight). But i think she would LOVE Treacherous/State of Grace as well. Will help with the fanfic writing 100%. I put TV here specifically bc Better Man & Forever Winter could very much remind her of Cyrian??? And you can’t convince me Bellara wouldn’t be obsessed with ATWTMVTV.

Lucanis - Speak Now

Purple vibes, obvious. But he’s like, very Enchanted to me. AKA loves reading romance novels and the concept of romance but doesn’t know much about it/has never experienced it but wants it badly. Which is also why Electric Touch/Sparks Fly apply here. Don’t think about Lucanis listening to Castles Crumbling when he gets back from the Ossuary to find that Caterina is gone (+ later if you don’t save Treviso). Also Innocent was written about him, Taylor told me.

Shout to passenger princess Spite which i feel Taylor embodied when she wrote Dear John (iykyk)

Davrin - Lover

First of all, he is SO The Archer. “Ive been the Archer, Ive been the prey” “i jump from the train and ride off alone i never grew up its getting so old” “i cut off my nose just to spite my face and hate my reflection for years and years” its so Davrin (also one of my favorite songs maybe ever so this is big news). Also as @pinayelf pointed out, Assan as the Arrow?? Dying. But also Davrin’s romance is so Its Nice to Have a Friend. I saw someone talk about this not that long ago, but he’s very much a friend first?? Like he gives the vibe that as your LI you just hang out and rib on each other. I just i feel like they laugh a lot. + Lover as an album is soft but very anxiously attached?? Which i feel is the whole inner life of “i am a Grey Warden and im not supposed to get to attached bc it can’t last.” Honorable mentions go to Daylight/I Think He Knows/Cruel Summer/ Cornelia Street

Could also be convinced he is Reputation bc Reputation seems hardcore but is secretly very soft.

Emmrich - Tortured Poets (The Anthology)

Emmrich would LOVE the flowery language in this. Would love analyzing the lyrics with his besties. He’d love The Albatross (which, coincidentally is one of my favs, guess he just has good taste) and The Manuscript. Also tbh i don’t know much about his romance but “you know how to ball, i know Aristotle” feels like Emmrich with a much younger Rook (shout out to But Daddy I Love Him as well). Idk i think he’d secretly love it. Also relating Robin to Manfred bc that is his son??? On the sad side i feel like Emmrich is very the Prophecy/Peter because he has that dialogue about how he ‘once thought he’d get married’ like he always wanted love but never found it.

Taash - evermore

This was very difficult but i think the general witchy vibes are very “I’m Rivaini, we’re cool with spirits”. Also Tolerate It feels like when their mom comes to visit and no matter what Taash does it’s not good enough. Laash specifically is Dorothea/Ivy to me. And then of course (endgame spoilers) Marjorie after their mom dies and RWYLM if Harding is also gone. As a fan of the ‘pots and pans’ of Closure, they also get this one assigned to them. Just feels right.

[creative-frequency]

Lucanis x Rook: Midnight Song and Dance, pt. 1/2

The Spellblade of House de Riva

⚜ Lucanis and Rook celebrate their first night as fully-fledged Crows. Or; Lucanis is down bad for his colleague. → Pining and romantic tension, light angst, Crow!Rook (she/her), Lucanis POV, Series: Spellblade of House de Riva Word count: 2.6k

When Rook de Riva made her descent down the long stairs of Cantori Diamond’s casino floor, Lucanis Dellamorte forgot how to breathe.

He had been dreading this night.

Being at the centre of attention was something he had never enjoyed – even if the stay in the spotlight had been brief as their new statuses as full-fledged Crows was recognized by the Houses. No, Lucanis would have much rather been racing over the roofs of Treviso in pursuit of a mark.

But alas, he had been forced to set his Crow leathers aside for the night and wear something much more debonair: a suit of dark samite.

Rook’s hand gripped the intricate railing on the curved stairs, while the other held her layered hems. Lucanis saw Rook usually in her fighting or fencing gear, but never before in a dress like this. She looked so… feminine and noble. Even royal. Like a cloud in the night sky in her billowing sleeves and the glimmer of the sunset on the sea as her jewellery. The dress was tight and loose in just the right places and allured one’s eyes to linger where skin was exposed.

Lucanis swallowed and adjusted his cuffs.

Illario let out a long, low whistle next to him, and Lucanis’ first instinct was to punch his cousin right in the mouth. But if they started a fight at such a public gathering, Caterina would beat them both to death. Brawling at private family functions was generally viewed more favorably.

“Looks like the princesa has dressed for the part tonight,” Illario noted and bumped Lucanis on the side.

Lucanis still wanted to punch his cousin, but he had to agree. If he hadn’t known Rook would be carrying at least three daggers in the folds of that dress, he might have appreciated the sentiment a bit more. Rook was far from a princess and would arrive ready to prove it. Besides, such a remark discounted her significant magical abilities.

The Spellblade of House de Riva was an expert with a dagger, sure, but deadly when wielding a focus orb.

Rook noticed the Dellamortes staring just as she paused at the foot of the stairs. She waved a little, to which Illario responded in kind. And bumped Lucanis again on the ribs. This time a waggle of his dark eyebrows followed. If it had been anyone else but Rook, Lucanis would’ve decked Illario and left the scene.

Rook started making her way through the murder of Crows, but people kept stopping her to exchange platitudes and offer their congratulations.

Congratulations on rising through the ranks, de Riva. You’ve earned it.

Let me know when you get enough of Viago, dear, there is a spot for you at our house.

You look beautiful tonight, Signora de Riva. Enchanted.

Lucanis knew those conversations were nothing but a part of the constantly ongoing circus of politicking and duplicity, but Rook had to indulge them to not appear disrespectful. Viago was especially strict about how the members of his house were perceived in social functions. Lucanis assumed it had something to do with his status as a bastard prince.

Illario tried to bump Lucanis on the side for the third time, chuckled when Lucanis dodged the elbow, and threw him a meaningful smirk instead.

“Make sure to take her to dance tonight, cousin,” Illario crooned.

Lucanis scoffed, but the thought made his insides turn into mush. Would it be unorthodox of him to ask the Spellblade of House de Riva to dance? Certainly all eyes would be on them, whether they braved the ballroom floor or not.

It was unfair how Illario never seemed bothered by these kinds of musings. In fact, he had always enjoyed gallivanting and parading around in social events. It was effortless to him. Illario was always charming and an easy flirt, and ladies swooned in his arms. He had been known to take Crows from several different Houses to ‘dance’. Caterina was not happy about it or the reputation that had followed. For contract killers who dealt in discreet, the Crows could be a chatty bunch.

“Why is it always so hectic in these things?” Rook asked in lieu of greeting as she finally reached the two men.

She was… radiant. While Lucanis tried to remember how to breathe, Illario swooped in for a rescue.

“I’m afraid it’s just you whose attention they all vye for, fiore,” Illario mused.

Illario and Rook brushed their cheeks, but Rook’s attention was on Lucanis.

“Someone looks like a storm cloud on their big night,” she chuckled.

It was Lucanis’ turn to lean in for a quick kiss on her cheek. The intended dismissive reply jammed into his throat because Rook’s perfume reached his senses. It was delicate and floral with notes of something that would be best enjoyed with a cup of good coffee. Underneath it all was what Lucanis could only describe as Rook’s natural scent; familiar and comforting. A scent that would be best enjoyed in private. 

His stomach made a weird flip at the thought and his body went rigid before he could make himself relax.

“And he’s been cultivating those clouds of doom ever since yesterday’s brunch,” Illario commented and looked at his cousin weirdly, his expression saying ‘what are you doing?’ 

Mierda. It would be great if just once Lucanis could act smooth and savvy like Illario. It was a little easier to think when Rook stepped back from his personal space.

“Viago was looking for you,” Lucanis said bluntly since he just remembered he had promised to deliver the note, “I assume you still haven’t talked yet?”

Rook squinted and took an assessing look around the casino floor, but that was all she gave as a reaction. This was not news to her.

“We will.” Rook sighed, clearly irked. “When he gets off his high horse and returns to being just the Fifth Talon.”

Lucanis had an inkling what the whole argument was about, but no matter what it was, it definitely was none of his business. Viago had been trying to drag him and Illario into the trenches with him for weeks, but they had managed to slip away every time. Poor Teia had not been so fortunate – that, or she had been eager for the opportunity to meddle. Lucanis presumed the latter.

“I would rather not find my morning coffee flavoured with Adder’s Kiss, so please let him know I relayed the message,” Lucanis deadpanned. Illario nodded to agree, uncharacteristically serious. Some things were beyond making fun of and the Fifth Talon’s affinity with poisons was one of those things.

Rook looked from Lucanis to Illario, blinked twice, and burst into delighted laughter. So talking with Viago was apparently not on her agenda.

“Viago would never do such a thing,” Rook cooed in jest.

“Riiight…” Illario said slowly and looked utterly unconvinced. Lucanis also wondered if they were still talking about the same Viago.

“Consider the message received, loud and clear,” Rook promised. Her gaze kept surveying the room. “Well, enjoy your evening, gentlemen. I need to find Dante…”

Rook’s gaze landed on Lucanis. She smiled sweetly and Lucanis recognised the expression by heart since it was the one she used whenever she was going to tease him mercilessly.

“Save a dance for me?” Rook asked in a sing-song voice.

Lucanis managed a stiff nod, because what else was he supposed to do, and he couldn’t help watching how Rook’s hips swayed as she sauntered away with a wave of her fingers.

Illario, who had seen the whole embarrassing exchange littered with one-sided pining, was just about to open his mouth in glee, but another guest’s approach saved Lucanis.

“Lucanis, Illario.”

Their grandmother’s familiar, stern voice made both men stand a little more straight. She glanced after Rook, but said nothing, just wrinkled her brow like she always did. Even if Caterina’s tongue was tied for a reason unknown to Lucanis, her expression spoke volumes of disapproval.

Lucanis was not sure how Caterina really felt about Rook, but there was some mysterious animosity between them. Whatever else it was, they also shared a begrudging, professional respect for each other. Rook avoided the First Talon if she could help it, but Caterina had always been ready to send her to take out mage contracts with Lucanis for his benefit. Just so he would have the opportunity to work with a skilled mage and learn how to kill one most efficiently.

“Good evening, Caterina,” Lucanis greeted as they exchanged cheek kisses. It instantly killed any tingling sensations left by Rook’s touch and perfume.

Illario greeted their grandmother with less enthusiasm. He was good at sensing incoming lectures, so Lucanis braced himself.

“My boys, what are you doing here standing around?” Caterina started strong with the scolding. She was carrying an almost empty wine glass in one hand and her lethal cane in the other.

Lucanis and Illario glanced at each other, both unsure what else they were supposed to be doing at a party.

Caterina tossed back the rest of the wine.

“We were just about to–”

“Silence, Illario. Save your honeyed words.”

Lucanis bit his tongue.

“We did not fight to keep the seat of the First Talon so you could stand around like idiotas. You should be presenting the family,” she hissed in a low tone.

“Of course, Caterina,” Lucanis agreed. It was easiest to weather the storm by nodding in agreement.

“You two are the only grandchildren I have left,” Caterina sighed.

She brushed some invisible dust off Lucanis’ shoulder and looked somber.

“Be good sons and think about the family bloodline.”

Dread fell into the pit of Lucanis’ stomach. Not this again. Caterina had been on their case about the fucking family bloodline for months. It had something to do with the other Houses announcing new heirs here and there. As far as Lucanis was concerned, it would have nothing to do with him at least for a decade.

“Caterina…” Illario groaned and he would have surely gotten a smack of the cane if they had been in private.

“Isn’t it a little early to start thinking about such… things?” Lucanis asked carefully, entirely too trusting of the public environment to keep the cane in check.

“Well.” Caterina leaned back with pursed lips. “You’ve proven that you’re old enough to be sleeping around, so I can only assume you’re ready to take on the responsibility of the consequences.”

Lucanis and Illario groaned as one. Couple of Crows standing close by were casting either amused or pitying looks at the pair.

To be fair, Lucanis had allowed his good name to be dragged through the mud for Illario’s benefit. His cousin still owed him for that. Rook had not been amused to hear about the assumed relations. She had fried the tips of Lucanis’ hair with a strategically aimed tendril of lightning (he had not been expecting it, hence the delayed dodge), but relented her verbal and magical attacks after hasty explanations and Illario laughing himself teary-eyed and breathless. Family drama always made for memorable, good times.

“You’d best start thinking seriously about the future of our House,” Caterina continued without mercy. She shot a meaningful look at a couple of young ladies passing by, who were giggling into their palms.

Lucanis bristled, but managed a polite half-bow. Maker knew Illario was more into practising how to ensure the continuation of the family line. Lucanis preferred other things over sheer quantity.

“Of course, Caterina,” Illario mimicked Lucanis’ earlier tone impeccably and earned a suspicious glower from their grandmother.

Lucanis’ attention sailed over to Rook again. She was conversing with Dante Balazar, the Second Talon. Dante was the picture perfect Antivan noble: he had straight, white teeth, wide shoulders, and a charming smile. Rook was in high spirits and Lucanis felt an ugly sting of uninvited jealousy. It was probably just the wine that made her smile and giggle like that. Rook had never been able to hold her liquor well. Her laughter had nothing to do with the older man. And her hand on his arm was just a friendly gesture, it was nothing–

Caterina’s sharp eyes followed Lucanis’ line of sight and her brow wrinkled again. She didn’t say anything nor did she continue on about the importance of the Dellamorte lineage. Thank the Maker.

“How about a turn at the dance floor?” Lucanis suggested hurriedly.

Caterina scoffed, but her expression had taken a turn to warmer. “You’d best not waste your breath on me, my dear boy.”

Illario rolled his eyes when their grandmother was preoccupied with her favourite grandson.

Before Lucanis could find the best platitudes to say, another rescue arrived in the form of the Fourth Talon, Emil Kortez.

“Caterina, we need to speak.”

The senior Crow’s expression was sharp and solemn, revealing nothing, but Lucanis guessed it was about the matter of the Seventh Talon. There had been murmurings, a ripple across the board.

“Good evening to you too, Emil,” Caterina said in a sour tone and turned back to her grandsons. “If you’ll excuse me.”

“Of course,” Lucanis and Illario murmured, unable to believe their luck.

They let out a collective breath of relief as soon as their grandmother was out of earshot. They didn’t waste time strategically changing their position so that Caterina couldn’t ambush them again. Not even before their second glasses of red wine were drained, Illario was lured away by the coy looks from a certain lady of House Arainai. It was Lucanis’ turn to roll his eyes towards the ceiling. No wonder Caterina was concerned about the reputation of the family when Illario was such a rake.

Left alone, Lucanis moved to a better vantage point to see if he could spot Rook again. He slipped through the crowds and skulked by the walls, masterfully avoiding conversation and examining the mass of Crows for a glimpse of familiar features. Had Rook been using her magic, he would have found her instantly. After all the training and contracts together, Lucanis could easily recognize the specific brand of power Rook pulled from the Fade. It had proved a useful trait when working together.

It took Lucanis a while to locate Rook: she was gliding on the dance floor in the arms of none other than Dante Balazar. Lucanis’ fingers gripped the glass stem with unnecessary force. He discarded the half-empty glass on a side table before he would break it.

Lucanis needed to clear his head. Rook could dance with whoever she wanted to and out of all the eligible Crows in the Cantori Diamond, Dante was not a bad choice for the Spellblade of House de Riva. Even Viago would have to approve, although disgruntledly.

Lucanis made an escape to the rafters overlooking the Diamond main floor and leaned heavily on the railing. He sighed. Below, the evening went on with a steady flow of wine, song after song. He really preferred to leave these things as soon as the official part was done, but with Caterina going full rampage mode with the bloodline nonsense… His next sigh was closer to a groan of frustration. The volume downstairs rose with each minute that ticked by and the beginnings of a headache pounded on Lucanis’ temples.

The rafters were mostly empty, save for a couple of fledgelings that giggled by and skipped on to find a secluded corner, and some senior Crows having a serious discussion in hushed tones. Lucanis smiled wryly. What was a party without light backstabbing and clandestine canoodling?

He retreated to take a seat in the shadowed corner of the lounge area and let the noise fade into the background. Lucanis wanted to have just a few minutes to gather his bearings. Since he was expected to be downstairs mingling and representing House Dellamorte, he hoped no one would realise to make the effort to find him.

And still, Rook did.

→ Part 2

[elena-of-avalor-polls]

[hightowerqueen]

Give us some cute headcanons for Bea and Illario!!

What does date night look like? Pet names? Kids? Pets? All the fluff!!!

-Ode-to-Fury

pet names: bea calls him Princess a decent amount just to fuck with him but he likes it actually. Illario is either intentionally saying her entire name or running the gamut of italian endearments

date night is usually arguing about where to go (out of habit at some point), ending up somewhere fancy, and every once in a while they go back to the docks and get drunk off her favorite wine and pretend they're 20 again

kids: they have exactly one (1) daughter, named Lucia. Illario is the most Girl Dad ever, and by that i mean matching outfits and everything. He also takes joy in the fact that he can now make fun of Viago for favoring a little girl who looks exactly like him. Bea feels strange about motherhood for a while, and still sometimes feels like she's doing it wrong because hers has been gone so long, but the first time she hears Lucia threaten someone with "yeah? well MY mom killed A GOD!" with obvious pride that feelings calms down a bit, yk? Lucanis and Viago are engaged in a full-on quiet war for the title of Favorite Uncle. Viago has a tiny little lab coat made for her and keeps spiriting her away to the lab for Science Time, and Lucanis absolutely takes her Wyvern Watching at least once (partially to give Illario a heart attack, as a bonus)

also as much as i like the idea of Bridezilla Illario i think these two get married in a First Talon-approved elopement somewhere in Rivain so Caterina and Viago can't do anything about it until it's too late

[persephinae]

any kid of Lucanis x Rook x Spite is going to be the most spoiled protected kid in all of Thedas

any daughter is doomed to be the most deadly assassin trained girl period. she'd have both her dad(s) and her mother's adoptive father who's a famous general of Tevinter training her. deadliest most spoiled princess ever. she can tell Caterina to fuck off and Caterina will be shedding a tear, like so proud bbygirl. I'd also love to see her abandon the Crows to become something that drives Caterina insane like a Veil Jumper. Fuck off great gram gram, I'm camping with the elves ✌��

any son is definitely getting that wyvern dagger, but will also be free to study whatever the fuck he wants because his dad remembers being forced by knife point through abuse and starvation to become the best assassin ever. this boy will be free to become Treviso's best chef and make his dad(s) proud

Spite goes crazy trying to protect them and also give them whatever they want whenever mom or Lucanis says no

[snipstheskeleton]

minor veilguard spoilers for the end lucanis’ quest line in the last two paragraphs

been thinking about this for a bit because i swore i heard him say this on my first playthrough and then got confirmation recently on a new one plus i just watched the princess bride

when asking lucanis/spite to make a path somewhere, one of the voice lines he’ll say is “as you wish” and i’m not saying this intentional, i have no idea, i’m just pointing it out and you can decide wether or not you think there is a connection i do think lucanis would love the princess bride considering he tells harding at one point that he likes romance novels

i mean, what’s not to love? it’s got fencing, fighting, torture, revenge, giants, monsters, chases, escapes, true love, miracles /ref

i’ve also read a couple fics where when lucanis talks about at what point he fell in love with rook it’s after the ossuary, though i don’t remember exactly when, and some where he says after the ossuary but maybe even during, for me, the first time he said as you wish was in his recruitment quest, the ossuary, so if you’re a ‘lucanis fell in love with rook during the ossuary’ truther, there you go

anyway, my reasoning for why lucanis said as you wish, yes as i said before, it could just be a coincidence, maybe as you wish is just a thing he says, or maybe, when he first says as you wish it could’ve just been a habit, maybe it is just something he says, maybe he says as you wish to caterina or illaro like the grandfather does at the end of the movie, it doesn’t have to be romantic, though it could be that too, he mentions liking another crow/viago, maybe he said it to him or someone else, just his way of saying i love you without actually saying it, maybe when he first meets rook there’s already that attraction there, he might not plan to do anything with it but there’s no denying it exists, so when he says as you wish, regardless of the why, he realizes the hidden meaning there and it just becomes a thing to himself, because he’s not going to tell rook this, the likelihood that they feel the same is very rare, obviously, but even if that is the case it’s not like anything’s going to come out of it, and it’s not like he’s going to tell them he’s been saying i love you this entire time

as time passes as he falls deeper in love with them he’ll continue to say it, the hidden meaning becoming the real meaning the more he says it and now that’s just his way of saying i love you to rook like it is westley’s to buttercup but what if he says it around the crows, surely one of them knows the reason why he says it, i imagine teia and illaro know, though they would probably have different reactions (teia gets all excited and goes to point it out to viago but he’s still oblivious, maybe afterward teia explains and he’s just like “wait, he said that to me once, didn’t he? didn’t he?!” and teia just laughs and shakes her head)

also when watching the movie i thought it was cute imagining rook and lucanis in the scene where buttercup finds westley after the wedding but he’s still recovering from being mostly dead so he tells her to be gentle but of course she does not, with the dynamic between my rook and lucanis either one of them could easily be buttercup or westley, though i don’t know who humperdinck if you continue the scene, i first thought of illaro because of lucanis’ questline but then realized that complicated things, first if rook is buttercup then that means illaro was trying to marry her and i just can’t see that happening, and then if lucanis is buttercup, i don’t feel i need to explain that, though i do like rook/lucanis threatening someone “to the pain” over the other, it’s cute

and again with the movie when inigo is getting his revenge, asks rugen to give him money, power, anything/everything he desires just to say “i want my father back, you son of a bitch” i saw that as lucanis and illaro but of course it’s “i want my brother back” or maybe even “i want my grandmother back” though caterina would have to be dead for that, a more dramatized version of what happens in the game i believe, i spared illaro on my first playthrough and haven’t gotten that far on the others yet though i think illaro just goes to jail, as my boyfriend can tell you though i do like family angst, i have at least two ocs with both parental angst and sibling angst :)

[theodosiani]

New Muses; Catia and Bibiana

Catia’s story does not start with herself, no it starts with her mother, Bibiana born in a splendid whorehouse to one of Antiva City’s finest courtesans. A common story of a crow however, unusually Bibiana’s father was an absent if doting man whose name was carefully never spoken. To her mother he was Vita Mia or My Lord and to Bibiana he was Papa.

Of course, this mysterious father was so shrouded in secrets because he was Giuseppe “Beppe” Dellamorte, the youngest brother of Caterina Dellamorte and covering his tracks to not bring attention to the fact that he had a thriving family with his beloved mistress and not the lovely young Antivan merchant princess he was arranged to be wed to.

It all comes to a head when he is found out and attacked within the brothel. His mistress is killed and Caterina must come and clean up his mess. She gives him an ultimatum, he will quietly marry his betrothed and never step a single toe out of line or out of Antiva City where his new wife’s estate remains. In exchange, Caterina will ensure that Bibiana is well looked after and any ties to him that may endanger her are severed.

Bibiana is told that her father died as well and that she will be taken in by the Dellamorte’s as repayment of a debt her father held. She is given an apprenticeship with the estate groundskeeper and a proper education, far better than what she would have received as the daughter of a courtesan, even one with a heavy patronage as her mother possessed.

Bibiana would work hard, believing herself incredibly blessed with Lady Caterina even checking in on her progress on occasion. She stays loyal to the Dellamorte even when the war for talons comes to to estate and half the staff end up fled or dead. At twenty she ends up entangled with a young crow, a man from one of the cuchilos sworn to the Dellamorte. It is a quiet romance, not terribly intense and often he is gone for weeks or even months at a time but they care and he is as faithful as a crow can be.

In spite of precautions taken, Bibiana still finds herself pregnant. A young crow finds himself privately confronted by Caterina Dellamorte, or rather dragged into her personal study and given his own ultimatum. He could claim the child marry Bibiana and he would find himself on the wrong end of a contract on order of the first Talon or he could quietly accept an ‘invitation’ for a long term contract in Orlais and cease any and all contact.

He is gone the next day, a note to Bibiana that leaves her crying in her room where Caterina approaches her and promises that she will, as promised so long ago, be provided for and looked after. When the child is born the following spring she is named Caterina, for the woman Bibiana has hailed as her savior. Little Catia is raised among the other staff children but educated in the same proper manner as her mother.

When old enough to work Catia does not follow her mother’s trade but instead chooses work within Lady Caterina’s more direct service, first becoming a maid to the Lady’s eldest daughter and after her mistresses death taking a place in Caterina’s inner circle as a personal maid. She has high ambitions, working hard to take over for the Dellamorte’s Head Housekeeper once the woman retires.

[lottiesnotebook]

ok AU prompts.

so I feel a regency AU could work well witjh Cara. So Cara with the prompt For I’ll soon show to you how the lilies grow, On the banks of Italy." -- The Daemon Lover, James Harris from the regency list

OK, last and maybe favourite prompt for tonight! I looked up the folksong this came from and I am now insane about it, thank you. Naturally I stole the whole plot for this little ficlet, so I hope you enjoy it. Also yes you are 100% correct, Cara was actually born to be the spunky, flirtatious heroine of a Regency romance who's greatest problem is Social Ruination, though I'm not sure that came across here XD

Lucanis Dellamorte/Cara 'Rook' Hawke-Laidir/Illario Dellamorte, arranged marriage AU, regency AU, character death (sort of)

@teine-mallaichte | @dadrunkwriting

how the lilies grow on the banks of antiva

It wasn’t that Cara Hawke-Laidir hadn’t cared for her betrothed. She’d liked him, even hoped, as she began to chip away at the layers of his reserve and secrecy, that one day she might come to love Lucanis Dellamorte, that he might love her in return. True, there was a gap in their ages, and half the time when she laughed too loudly or spoke too freely, he looked at her like she was an ill-trained child playing with a sharpened knife, but he’d been kind to her, in the ways he knew how to be kind. He made her cakes and dainties to eat, memorised her favourite foods, books, ballads, and talked about them with ponderous seriousness to let her know he took her frivolous interests seriously.

There were worse starts to an arranged match, she knew, and she’d had at least a twinge of hope for- something. Anything more than staid politeness and restraint, and a lifetime of being worn down by Caterina Dellamorte’s acid tongue. To be an adventurer’s wife, she’d thought, would at least be more exciting than spending the rest of her life in Kirkwall, under her parents’ watchful eye.

She hadn’t expected excitement to take the form of being widowed before she was married. She’d held the letter that told her of the shipwreck in shaking hands, and swallowed down her sobs until she’d retreated to her room. She’d liked Lucanis, who showed he cared in such quiet, serious ways, who could be gentle, tender even, despite the fierce reputation his family held. She hadn’t expected to lose him before liking could grow to love. She hadn’t imagined losing him at all, and now- now she could not even imagine what her future would be.

Caterina could, thought. Caterina had netted the daughter of a Viscount, an almost-princess, for her favourite grandson, and while Illario still was not her favourite, neither was Cara, and matching them was far easier than sending Cara home and forgoing the dowry she brought.

Cara realised what was happening the first time they were sat opposite each other at dinner, where before Caterina had kept them far apart, and she swallowed down mingled grief and anger that they thought she was so easily swayed that she’d take any husband dangled before her, that she’d barely cared for Lucanis at all. She could not lose her temper in this house as she could at home. Caterina did not have the same indulgence she’d grown used to after a lifetime of being spoilt.

The grief and anger were worse, though, when she realised that Caterina was right, that there’d been a reason she and Illario had been kept from becoming acquainted. He was charming — he slipped his arm through hers on the way to dinner with an ease Lucanis had never showed, brushed kisses to her knuckles and her fingertips at every moment he could get away with, danced with her all night and arrived at her bedroom door promptly of a morning to take her riding. If Lucanis’ courtship had been careful, gentle, Illario’s was a siege, and Cara, for all her best intentions, did not have quite the conviction to resist. She could sit and weep by Lucanis’ grave for twelve months and a day, but it would not bring him back, and at the end of it, he would still be dead, and she would be alive.

So when Illario knelt at her feet in their opera box, she let him slip Caterina’s ring onto her finger, to rise and to kiss her, and she couldn’t even regret it, not really. They were not in love, not yet, but they were similar enough in their flirtations, their games, their tempers, the shadows they were used to living in, that she thought they could be happy together, even if she suspected half his ardour came from the fact that she’d come so close to being Lucanis’.

“Did he kiss you like this?” he’d murmur in her ear, when he pressed her into an alcove. “Did he touch you like this?”

The answer was always no, but she stopped his mouth with a kiss rather than answering. She did not want to invite his ghost into her marriage bed.

She does not have to invite his ghost into her marriage bed. The night before her wedding to Illario, she’s woken by violet light on her balcony, and emerges to find a man who’s been dead for two years perched on the rail with flawless grace.

She raises a hand to her throat then, where her heart is trying to escape her mouth, and manages a choked, bewildered: “You’re dead!”

“I came back,” he says, voice low and exhausted, “to you, cara mia. For you.”

“I don’t understand.” This cannot be real, but she cannot tell if this is a dream come true, or a nightmare. “I- I thought you were dead. I’m- I’m meant to be marrying Illario tomorrow.”

“And I might have married a lady of Old Tevinter,” he said, still low and desperate, “and lived my life in a palace of glass and blood, but still I came back here for you. Will you not come with me, and let the rest be forgiven and forgotten? I will show you all the beauties of the world you’ve longed to see, the lilies that grow on the banks of the Rialto, the Frostback mountains, the gilded streets of Val Royeux, if only you will give me your hand and come with me now.”

She wants to say yes, take me with you, I’ve always loved you. She wants to scream, to break the strange, uncanny dream she’s trapped in, to wake in her own bed and the certain knowledge that come morning, she will marry Illario. But she can do neither, and her tongue is lead in her mouth, and she can neither beg, nor scream, only stare wide-eyed at her fiance, returned from the dead, with her name on his lips, and a voice not quite his own.