Witch. We call such women so, because we have no other name.
Don't wanna be here? Send us removal request.
Text
THE HOUSE OF MALCONAIRE AS THE QUEENS OF TAROT
eithne malconaire as QUEEN OF PENTACLES (nurting, big-hearted, down to earth, resourceful, trustworthy/indfference, disappointment, loss)
brigit malconaire as QUEEN OF SWORDS (honest, astute, forthright, witty, experienced/cynical, distant, sharp-tongued)
aoife malconaire as QUEEN OF CUPS (loving, tender-hearted, intuitive, psychic, spiritual/mysticism, darkness, insecurity)
roisin malconaire as QUEEN OF WANDS (attractive, wholehearted, energetic, cheerful, self-assured/aggressive, selfish, insecure)
19 notes
·
View notes
Text
jlsdjfldjsf god I feel like Brigit would have ALSO shipped guin/cassimir at one point because "they probably deserve each other!" and would have wanted to be like "he's such an awesome guy ... please take him (and his mom!) away!1!"
but there would have been a big problem with this because a) Brigit wouldn't have been able to think up a sINGLE good quality to go on when trying to "talk him up" and b) ultimately she would NEVER want cassimir to be in a position to rule one day??? (or at the least be married to a ruler) so she would reluctantly have to talk anyone who would listen out of that arrangement (Brigit is now clearly the ONLY reason why cassimir x guin didn't happen ;DD)
I don't think Brigit would really like Alistair/give him a chance to prove that he's actually a good guy/to her his associations with the varmont fam really do speak for themselves!! However, she would definitely give him her honest opinion/unfiltered opinion of cassimir (and bring receipts!)
OOC | Alistair & Brigit
so! as i mentioned in my note to cassimir, i do think alistair shipped cassimir/guin at one time...till he got to know cassimir better and i was thinking...maybe brigit was the one who helped open his eyes to that? i mean, i think cassimir does ultimately speak for himself so no worries if you don't think she'd be spilling the beans to him to a member of roderick's own council lakjsdfkldsjf but yeah!! it occurred!! but yeah even if not i def think he came to malconaire a couple times thinking if it could be a home for guin etc so yeah!! also i do think he's going to valentina's disaster gala so there's that too lkajsdfkljsdf
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
the trees you grew up with have not forgotten you. their branches still whisper your name in the breeze and their roots remember the paths your feet once traced through their shade.
26K notes
·
View notes
Text
house malconaire + pre-raphaelite paintings
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
If Brigit was truly going to do anything for Malconaire and her sister, it would be today.
She'd managed to advance into the second round yesterday, but it had been luck and Feidlimid's skills alone that had managed to get her even that far: without either of them, she never would have stood a chance.
In hindsight, she wondered if she should have risked entering that, at all? Her chance of winning had been so slight to begin with, it had likely not been worth the risk she'd made to enter. As soon as she had heard what was being offered to the winners, she'd abandoned all thoughts of reason. So desperately had she been praying for some help to come to Malconaire, it seemed as though this might be the very answer to it. It had not mattered that it was Roderick Varmont, himself, who was offering her aid.
But now, as she stood amongst the line of men competing in the archery portion of the tournament, did she wonder -- even if she did win, would the Emperor part with so much so willingly to someone like her? And what would happen to her if it was discovered that she had been a woman?
Those thoughts would have to wait: it was much too late to withdraw now and if she meant to win, she could not allow herself to be distracted. It had been announced that she would compete against Edmund Varmont in the first round. While she relished the idea of beating him, she realized that she did not know what she was up against. While she had heard that Edmund was often thought to be inferior to his brothers and uncles when it came to jousting and sword fighting, he had presented himself well enough in the previous days that Brigit wondered if he hadn't improved upon himself.
Her eye was so intent upon him, that she didn't realize that she stood in the way of a man who was barreling through the crowds and was nearly knocked to the ground. It was only by the quick reaction of another that she kept from loosing her balance altogether.
Brigit might not have recognized him from afar, but there was no mistaking his voice. The man in the antlered mask was Cillian and while she had not known it before this moment, there was so surprise at this realization. If she had been impulsive enough to enter the tournament, she should have known that Cillian would, too.
Brigit's own disguise was simple. She had worn some clothes Rosie had made her for working in the stables and had paired them with an old leathered vest that had once been her father's. It was ill-fitting, even though it had been one he had worn as a boy, but beneath her dark green cape, it made her chest and shoulders appear broader than they were. Her hair had been pinned up and tucked beneath her hood and she wore a simple black mask around her eyes.
Brigit wondered for a moment if she had managed to fool even Cillian, but through his mask she caught his look of surprise when he looked into her own.
"Don't be so surprised."
Her voice was lower than normal and this sorry attempt at a man's voice wasn't likely to fool everyone (certainly not Cillian, if she hadn't been discovered already), and so she had kept as silent as she could until this point, but she couldn't help but speak to him, now. And since it would be hypocritical to be furious with him, and so she could only delight in the fact that she would not be here to face this alone. "You can't be the only one to be in on the fun," She winked.
Hart & Raven | Cillian & Brigit
"How does Rosie manage all this," muttered Cillian with an irritable sigh as, for about the fourth time, the antler fell away.
It was perhaps foolhardy to try to assemble a real antler to a white-washed wooden mask, but it was, notwithstanding, what he had done. He'd found two perfectly recognizable shed antlers lying on the forest floor, after all, and it was true that they were hefty, but it was easier than trying to...fashion false ones. Still, this exercise in fashion setting had left him with renewed respect for Rosie and her many such endeavors.
He'd also borrowed some green fabric from her, which he'd used to fashion fairly nondescript clothing, and all that was left was to complete this completely stubborn mask which, in truth, he didn't particularly wish to wed, anyway, but it was better than losing his alter ego. Lord Ormond was too valuable an asset, he told himself, to risk in so cavalier a fashion. No, this was all for the best, and so he bent once again to his task.
He'd been blessedly spared from making much clothing, one way or another, beyond the occasional repair. He had forgotten how greatly he disliked the activity. Cillian's thoughts and feelings on the matter of Ciara Varmont were more complex than he would like but, this morning, as he slipped ran his fingers over the fresh noble clothes she had given him, he was glad of it. The one Rosie had made for him, nearly two whole years ago, had gone very nearly threadbare in spots, given all the strange things he undertook while wearing them and the fact that they had come to him already a touch worn, a mixture of the half-tattered Ormond standard he'd claimed from the battlefield, and of Lord Malconaire's own clothing. While he thought, nonetheless, he'd probably keep those initial threads his whole life long as a reminder, he was sure that sooner or later court would start to note the increasingly shabby manner of his dress, and today he was to be on full display. But today, he was not dressing either as himself or as Lord Ormond. He was to play someone else entirely.
Donning the green raiment, including his antlered mask, he completed the look with a green bycocket to which he added a red feather. He exhaled slowly and, making off with a Malconaire horse (no one but Brigit was like to notice, and Brigit was unlike to begrudge him the use of the steed, as he was not to be riding the poor creature into any of the melees or jousts and thus would expose the beast to no harm), he rode to the spot, a familiar field outside of Stafford where, once, the queen had been accustomed to welcoming her people for dances and celebrations and the seasonal festivities of the year.
It was the dawn of the day of the archers, and he dismounted quickly, letting the horse into the paddock and handing off the reins quickly to Percy, there, lest someone recognize the creature from Malconaire. "Wish me luck," he said to his friend before making his way to the field where the archers were beginning to assemble.
Excitement for the hefty reward had indeed been piqued. Glancing at the long line, he could see that many were those who had come from far, indeed, including accents from other parts of the empire, itself.
How many have come here to make their fortune, only to watch so much of it slip away, already, to the greedy emperor and his lackwit son, already? They must feel desperate to get whatever's left...
Ahead of him, Cillian saw a huge, boorish man shove a much smaller person. "Outta the way!"
"Hey!" shouted Cillian, reaching out to steady the person. "Wait your turn like the rest of us!"
"What're you wearing, mate?" rumbled the boor, shocked out of his anger.
Cillian smirked. "A forest crown," he joshed, openly laughing at himself, managing to diffuse the moment. "Mind your own business."
The boor breathed a contemptuous laugh and looked away.
Cillian turned to the person he'd so rudely jostled with a smile. "Steady now?"
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
Brigit is going to dress up as a man and enter the archery competition (no one is surprised), but I don’t think she’d tell anyone because she doesn’t want anyone trying to talk her out of it! She definitely wants the money for Malconaire and is hoping that with it, the girls can continue to do good for their home and maybe Eithne will also reconsider marrying Cassimir since she will be able to do improvements independently of him …
As for where Brigit is gonna say she got the money if she wins, she hasn’t figured it out yet but she doesn’t want either Valentina or Cassimir to feel that they have the right to claim it. May not even say anything to them at all and just pay for stuff to help Malconaire and count that they won’t notice.
And after it is all said and done then she’d come clean to her friends and sisters (it’s much better to ask for forgiveness than permission)
UPDATE 03.01.25 / event #5
Guys, I have a new laptop and already everything is 1000% easier! And The Long Forgotten Realm is back! <33 I have gone through and updated the comment site, but please let me know if I missed anything over the last month and a half, if you notice it.
I promise that we will ~definitely~ have those new characters that I have been teasing for months now (facepalm) but I will wait until we are back in the swing of things again.
I also know that it has been a few months since LFR has really been active and I don't want to overwhelm anyone, either! If you'd like to ~stagger~ the return of your characters like we have done in the past with other RPS returning from hiatus, I'm okay with that!
If you are ready to bring back a character, reblog their character post from this site. I will also create a new post on the rp comments site that will only have comments posted between ~active~ characters. (The old post with all the old comments will remain up, as well.)
EVENT #5
As the last snows of winter begin to fade away, RODERICK VARMONT announces that a public tournament is to be held on the first day of spring. It promises to be quite the spectacle: with a large reward in gold to be presented to the winners. Jousting, archery, and hand-to-hand combat are amongst the categories and any man, regardless of rank, may enter.
It promises to draw a large crowd to the city from across the country and there shall also be markets and entertainments to divert the crowds.
As a sign of goodwill, he has consented to allow EILIONORA STAFFORD and ARIA STAFFORD to attend.
But there is more to this tournament than may meet the eye -- as Roderick means to use it to set a trap. The fugitives and the men who rescued them have evaded his men all winter and if they still remain in Astaira, he knows that whatever supplies they have will have grown thin over the winter. And as these men who so easily defeated his own are likely to be skilled warriors, he suspects that they shall see this as easy money. Roderick means to have his spies watch every contestant closely, in the hopes that he may discover their identify.
CIARA VARMONT suspects that her cousin may be setting a trap and has warned the resistance of this ... but will they take her advice?
#about#ooc#eithne malconaire#aoife malconaire#cassimir malconaire#valentina malconaire#rose malconaire
29 notes
·
View notes
Text
LADY BRIGIT MALCONAIRE / IMOGEN POOTS
♛ Age: (25) ♛ Relationships: Eithne Malconaire, Aoife Malconaire, Roisin Malconaire (sisters), Valentina Malconaire (step-mother), Cassimir Malconaire (step-brother), Sonya Malconaire (step-sister), Percy Reaves (friend), Cillian Frost (best friend)
a mess™
if you can't find brigit, she's probably outside
her hobbies include archery, horseback riding, storytelling, tormenting her step-family, and protecting her own
has never been any good at being an lady tbh! polite small talk? embroidery? music? showing up to events in a gown that doesn't have a rip or a stain somewhere? these are all absolutely foreign to brigit
never liked attending balls, but makes a point to always go now b/c she knows she's an embarrassment to her stepmother and the more often she is seen in public, the less likely her stepmother will find anyone to marry her off to
never been any good with a sword, but is getting cillian to teach her b/c someone in this family is going to have to challenge cassimir to a duel if he keeps harassing eithne
all brigit wants is for her step family to leave them all alone and things to go back to the way they were!! is determined to ~save the family~ before eithne or rosie decide to marry someone rich
just wants the four of them to be together forever <3
brigit has taken to looking after the horses and maintaining the stables since her stepmother took charge -- something which suites both of them well because it keeps them out of each other's way and brigit knows that the horses are being treated well
recently a stray white mare wandered onto their property without any trace of where he had come from
cassimir tried to tame him, but would have nothing to do with him
it is amongst brigit's proudest moments that she was then able to tame the horse who now lets no one else hear him
what's strange about him, is that brigit can understand him and he seems to understand her (she feels as though she might be crazy, but what she doesn't know, is that this is no ordinary horse -- he is the first being to have crossed over from the other realm and he belongs to a god)
brigit hasn't told anyone about this -- not even her sisters -- as this is not the first time something strange has happened to her
what brigit doesn't realize, is that she has the second sight. when she and her sisters were young, they used to pretend that they could see the guardians of their own home and used to talk to them, but it wasn't until brigit was older that she realized that she was the only one who could actually see them ...
TAKEN BY LIZZY.
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
"And I think they've sent you to me," Brigit said, almost laughing with the relief of having aid. It had all seen so hopeless a moment ago, but she suddenly felt less alone in not only this task, but in whatever the future held.
It was then that Brigit caught Saorise's expression. She seemed pale and almost frightened. "Saoirse? Are you alright? Did something happen?"
Brigit stopped her work for a moment: she could spare it for her. And then, all at once, Saoirse explained to her what she had felt and Brigit felt her blood run cold at her words. She'd not been the only one. Were they trying to warn Saoirse, too, about the god's return?
Brigit opened her mouth to speak wanting desperately to tell her what she had heard them say, but would Saoirse knowing their fears do anything to soothe her anxieties? Was the risk of confiding in her worth confirming her fears? Had she been more impulsive, she might have completely unburdened herself then and there, but it was dangerous for anyone to know.
Even Saoirse, who may truly be a half-witch.
"What have you seen, Saoirse?" Brigit asked, her eyes meeting her friend's.
She dropped to her knees to gather the fresh apples that had fallen into her apron. "Whatever is to come, they will need their strength -- we should take whatever we can carry."
Offerings | Brigit & Saoirse
One day, the gods will come again ...
... and we shall weep for Malconaire ...
Brigit heard the guardians whisper in her head, their voices which once had been loud grew fainter and fainter still, despite her redoubled efforts to make certain that they remained strong -- that they kept whatever dangers were on the other side at bay.
Her last offering had been unsuccessful. She'd left some bread and the rest of the lemon cakes for the guardians by the great oak tree, but Valentina had spotted her doing it and tossed the food out into the rain. Brigit had received two lashes for wasting valuable food (although it had not been she who had thrown it out!) and another three for her "sacrilegious" behavior.
We do not have much strength left.
"I will see that another offering is made," Brigit promised, but she could hardly find anything in the kitchens and wondered if Valentina had been spiteful enough to throw the rest of everything out to keep her from trying again.
It may not be enough.
"It will be enough." It had to be enough. Brigit had been unable to do little when her home was invaded; had been helpless when her sister made the announcement of her engagement -- but she would not let any more harm come to Malconaire or Astaira if she could help it.
She grabbed her bow, prepared to hunt if she had to, when she came upon a lone apple tree somewhere between the Malconaire and Lorcan lands. Brigit was up amongst the branches gathering as many apples as she could when the clouds began to part; the sun shining through again and -- soon after -- she saw Saoirse Frost coming up from the otherside of the hill.
Brigit could have cried to see her -- she would need help carrying as many apples back as she could and she could think of no better person to help her in this than Saoirse whose belief in the guardian had always been strong. Someone else might have thought Brigit wasteful to use so much food at such a time on some ancient tradition.
But not Saoirse -- Saoirse would understand how important this was.
Brigit scrambled down the tree and ran to meet her and nearly knocked her over when she drew her into a hug. "You are on your way to Malconaire? Would you help me? I ... I was picking apples for the guardians and I may need help getting them back."
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
For all of Roderick Varmont's many faults, Brigit had never considered him to be foolish. It was dangerous to underestimate him so: he had conquered nearly half of the known world and it could not be for nothing. However, she wondered what he truly had hoped to gain from this declaration: one that was so clearly based in falsehood and that no one in Astaira would believe.
It would only anger the people and do little to endear the Queen to him. If he hoped to gain her hand, he was certainly going about it the wrong way.
Brigit might have been enraged herself, had not the confusion regarding Roderick's motives been more prevalent. She was certain that her vexation would be felt acutely later. For now she remained composed, as the shock of it all set in.
Her eyes fell upon Eilionora herself, wondering how she bore it. Despite everything, she still managed a smile and a sarcastic comment. Her calm response did not surprise Brigit.
"I imagine you shall be quite powerless against him now," Brigit replied, crossing her arms, "I'm told ladies always find such grand gestures irresistible." She rolled her eyes, "Do you think he secured all of his wives this way? Perhaps that would account for him having had so many."
The Bastard Queen | Eilionora & Brigit
The words were declared aloud but, dreamlike, for a moment Eilia imagined she'd misheard, the entire conversation a strange rolling play ennacted between two actors who rehearsed it very ill.
"Why..." she whispered to herself. "Why this to my parents?"
They were long dead, both of them -- they could do no harm to Roderick, either of them, but this move might tempt the ire of Eilia's uncle, now king of his own country following the loss of her grandfather. His sister and her memory were very dear to him and, while it was unlikely the king would prove so foolish as to attack Roderick on such slight provocation -- as such edicts could do nothing to eject his niece from her throne in Astaira -- it was still a strange risk to take with Astaira as yet untamed.
Yet, as she considered, perhaps that had indeed been the very motive. This was no move aimed at her parents or even at her uncle: it was aimed at her sisters and herself. Roderick remained bafflingly ignorant of Astairan custom for one who claimed to have conquered on the very basis of their evil traditions (as trumped up a charge as ever there was in Eilia's opoinion). Perhaps the concept of Astairan election was one that had managed to elude him, still, even after all this time, and he had yet to understand that such accusations could do nothing to change her status in the eyes of the people.
She nearly laughed at the thought.
She had found that, so often, when Roderick most tried to make himself appear powerful, she saw him at his most ridiculous. She had little doubt she was the only one.
Turning to Brigit near her, Eilia sent her a secret smile. "However could I fail to be wooed," she began wryly. "When always my lover thinks of me at every turn?"
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Meetings in the Dark | Brigit & Aria
The tables had been piled high with food. There had been delicacies from all over the world -- most of the dishes Brigit had never seen before. And, almost if by magic, they never seemed to to dwindle - even as the guests refilled their plates two and three times over. She had never seen so much food in one place in her entire life, and it surprised her all the more to find that a selection of fruit and bread and cheeses had been left in their rooms that evening: as though any of them could have eaten another bite.
Brigit could not remember the last time she had laid down upon a soft feather bed, while having a full belly and a roaring fire to keep her warm. She had been sure that she would fall asleep straightaway, but although her body was tired and comfortable, her mind was restless.
The palace was crawling with Varmont soldiers and she feared for the guardians who were meant to protect this place. She had not seen them since her arrival and it left her wondering: Were there any of them left here at all? Was there even anyone brave enough to leave them an offering upon the hearth? And could they access it, even if they had wanted to?
When the room had grown quiet -- the only sounds were of her sister's soft breathes and the crackling of the fire, Brigit got up from her bed. She took as much of the food as she could easily carry and bundled it up in a cloth. Draping a blanket round her own shoulders, she lit a candle and decided to brave the dark halls of the palace.
Brigit planned to say she had gotten lost, if any guards spotted her wandering about (surely they would easily believe that -- she was, after all, nothing but a silly girl!), but she was determined to make it to the great hall. It had been the one place she had ever seen the guardians who lived here: even though that was years ago now.
Her memory served her well, even in the dark, and she managed to find her way with only one wrong turn.
The great hall was cold and dark: the great fires and torches that had illuminated and warmed it during the festivities had long been extinguished. For a moment, everything was still and then she saw a shadow move in the darkness.
Someone else was here.
Brigit had come too far now, to loose her nerve, and holding the candle higher she moved forward until the shadows fell away and she recognized the familiar face.
"Your Highness." They may have been alone in the middle of the night, but Brigit was determined to still show the Staffords the respect they deserved. Whatever Roderick Varmont had declared that evening, was nothing to her.
Brigit's eyes fell upon the hearth where Aria had already left an offering of her own. "You haven't forgotten them," Brigit managed. Whether Aria was here because she was deeply religious -- or deeply defiant given the Varmont determination to wipe their religion and traditions from existence -- Brigit could not tell, but she was overwhelmed to see her there.
It gave her hope.
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
"If he is as good as you make him out to be, then I shall not have to." Brigit said, giving her sister a wink as though she meant this entirely in jest -- if only to soothe her fears. As it was, she couldn't have been more serious. It was a chore already to keep Cassimir away from Eithne, especially now that he felt her truly held a claim upon her -- she did not need for Arthur to continue his pursuit on top of everything else.
"If Arthur does stay away ... " She began, eyeing her sister, "... we may see less of his brothers, too."
Brigit could not say that she wasn't hopeful that this would be the case, but she also did not like the idea that Sebastian would have gained her sister's friendship, only to throw it away. She suddenly realized how conflicted she would be to discover if this had been the case. On one hand, she knew Aoife was better off without him in her life. On the other, she was outraged by the thought that anyone (even someone as horrible as a Varmont) should treat her sister's friendship so casually.
In the end, Sebastian Varmont could do no right in her eyes, although she was not so sympathetic to his situation to consider this.
She was going to ask Aoife if she would be alright if she lost Sebastian's friendship, when her sister hesitantly brought up a conversation she had with Cillian.
Brigit sat up straight. She did not like the look of concern upon her sister's face and it did nothing to convince her to promise that she would not do anything hasty. Already she disliked that her sister had been put in this situation where she felt she ought to keep something from her.
"What is it?" She asked, as calmly as she could, "Aoife, what did he say?" A beat, "I promise I will not do anything rash, but I cannot say I will do nothing at all until you've told me what it is."
Lovely Lunch || Brigit + Aoife
"Bridie?" Aoife called into the stables, a basket hanging off her arm. She rarely called her older sister by her childhood nickname but having seen Cillian scowling in the kitchen garden (most likely due to the arrival of Edmund and Arthur Varmont), Aoife could only assume her sister was down at the stables alone.
"Oh good," she grinned when Brigit appeared from of the horse stalls. "I've brought lunch," she announced, holding up the basket. "I thought you might rather eat out by the pasture with me..." she paused. "The princes are back."
Some of the princes were back. Sebastian had not come with Edmund and Arthur that day, which is why Aoife was sure Eithne had proposed she take lunch down to Brigit that afternoon.
"Come on," Aoife looped her arm around Brigit's and walked them away from the stables. "Eithne gave us the last two lemon cakes! Did you happen to see who left that basket of fruit on our doorstep?" Aoife inquired of her sister. "I thought perhaps Eithne had asked for it to be delivered from the market but she was just as confused as the rest of us. Cillian was going on about us being blessed by some higher power. Either way... I suppose we should be thankful for one last round of lemon cakes before the cold season returns!"
24 notes
·
View notes
Text
I really wanted to draw at least something for Swordtember hehe, ladies with swords are always fun to draw c:.
#this really gives me brigit vibes!#the simple white dress!#the vines!#the flowers!#the flower crown!#the messy hair that looks like her sisters had done it nicely a few hours ago#and ofc the sword!#image
41K notes
·
View notes
Text
Don't Say Yes | Brigit & Eithne
It was not uncommon to see her stepbrother find his way into the kitchens to see Eithne, but Brigit feared that it was happening more and more often these days. Perhaps it had been the attention that Eithne had received from Arthur Varmont, but Brigit was not blind to the fact that Cassimir had become bolder with his displays of affections towards her sister.
Brigit did not care for this behavior and had done whatever she could to intervene. She felt that he would take any opportunity in which he was left alone with Eithne to propose and Brigit did not want Eithne to deal with the fallout of a rejection. Cassimir had never taken that lightly.
So today when she found him standing a little too close to Eithne when she came inside, her smile fell.
"I think you ought to leave," Brigit said sternly, taking a step between him and her sister. "Can't you see she's running behind?" She made a vague gesture to the prep that her sister had clearly been in the middle of. Truth be told, Brigit could not have told you if Eithne was behind or not, but she knew that her step-brother would know even less than she did when it came to what was involved.
Cassimir smiled. There was a smugness in his look that suggested that he knew something Brigit did not and she certainly did not like the thought of that. He took a few measured steps towards Brigit, his dark eyes not once breaking the link with her own.
"I suppose she still has much to do here. For now." It sounded like a threat. He sidestepped Brigit to address her sister, "I'll leave you to your work. If there is anything else you should need -- "
The edge in his voice was gone when he spoke to Eithne. This was not the first time Brigit had witnessed him speaking in those soft tones that seemed only reserved for her, but there was something different about it this time. Something that Brigit particularly did not like.
And then his voice dropped low, so low that it must have only been a whisper, for Brigit heard nothing of what he said next. She certainly would have put an end to it, if it hadn't been done quickly and then followed by his brisk exit from the kitchens.
As soon as they were left alone, Brigit turned back towards her sister, "For now?" She repeated, "Eithne, what is he talking about?" Brigit felt she knew the answer to that question as soon as she asked it -- from Cassimir's affectionate behavior to the look in her sister's eyes. She prayed to all their guardians that it was not true. Had Eithne truly accepted him?
"Eithne?"
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
Imagine the secrets the trees are keeping
37K notes
·
View notes
Text
Alasdair Gray, from Poor Things
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
give me a paring + an au setting and I'll tell you all the headcanons I've made about that
2K notes
·
View notes