#zelda aep crispin.

[moresaints]

Okay but thanks to @martyrshe for letting me ramble about stuff because now I absolutely love the idea that if Zelda ends up married to Radovid that they have two boys who go “missing” during the events of The Witcher III whilst under the guardianship of Dijkstra in Redania (inspired by The Princes in the Tower, Edward V and Richard of Shrewsbury)… the heirs would need to be dead if Dijkstra plans on ruling Redania.

[suresaint-moved]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐙𝐄𝐋𝐃𝐀

goidemar (left) was the third king of temeria. when goidemar was still a prince, he married riannon, who was later kidnapped during the falka rebellion during which she gave birth to twins, fiona and amavet.                                                     ♛♛♛ amavet (centre), as the son of goidemar and riannon, was prince of temeria. in his earlier years, amavet gained a reputation for romancing many a woman, including married ones, and when he was seventeen he began a romance with one such married woman, tvilla de vintre, who was ten years older than him. the romance caused a small scandal in court. after his father removed his lover and his lover’s husband from court, amavet turned his sights on ilona laux-antille, an assistant to the sorceress tissaia de vries. but the dalliance was ruined when ilona used her magic to destroy any hopes of a planned, political marriage between amavet and the princess deirdre of kaedwen. as a result, amavet was sent away to one of the provinces in hopes that he would keep out of trouble. alas, one of the border commanders was roger kameny, the husband of the beautiful anna kameny, and soon amavet was having an affair with her. when anna’s husband learnt of the affair, he hired bandits to ambush the young prince whilst he was on a hunt, castrating amavet before brutally murdering him. it turns out that anna had gotten pregnant during the affair, and ended up giving birth to twins: a daughter muriel and a son crispin.                                                    ♛♛♛ crispin kameny, or crispin aep amavet (right), was the son of countess anna kameny and the temerian prince amavet, but due to how crispin and his twin sister were conceived, nobody knew for certain who their father was. therefore, crispin and muriel kameny weren’t granted the hereditary title of counnt and couldn’t inherit their supposed father, roger kameny’s, estate. after going through three court trials, however, they were granted the title and estate. but unlike his sister, crispin wanted his connection to the royal family validated and began to wear a coat of arms that combined his supposed father’s with his real father’s, resulting in adding burgundy to the temerian lillies. it caused a scandal which enraged his enemies as well as his family. eventually, crispin joined a gang of mercenaries, the so-called “free company” and referred to himself as crispin aep amavet, showing his true father was in fact the deceased prince of temeria and that he had elven blood in his veins. he disappeared without leaving a trace in metinna, and many people considered him deceased. the only person who longed to find crispin was king goidemar, who knew that while he was an illegitimate child, crispin was also his grandson.                                                  ♛♛♛ spending some time in the plains of mag deira, in metinna, crispin met colette njall, one of the markee people who minded the herds of horses roaming the land, and established expansive ranches raising cattle. they bred the famous metinnese ponies, which are white, extremely hardy, sure footed and intelligent. zelda’s horse, beetroot, is a metinnese pony, though she has no idea that her own birth mother belonged to the very people who bred these talented horses. metinna is also renowned for its wine, the metinna rosé, which rivals the wine brewed in places such as toussaint.  crispin began a love affair with colette, who fell pregnant with their only daughter, zelda njall / kemany. after zelda’s birth, crispin persuaded colette to leave her home in the plains of mag deira to travel with him and the rest of the free company. the small family travelled together to nilfgaard but, as it were, crispin was not so different from his real father, and it did not take long for him to abandon a young colette and their newborn daughter in the port city baccalà. zelda was barely three months old and crispin had already tired of the familial life he had painted to colette, who was only seventeen at the time, and who now had an infant to take care of without the aid of the man she thought would marry her, and all in a strange city she had never been to before. trying to keep her baby alive in the tough streets of nilgaard, as well as herself, colette grew desperate. after several long, hard months trying to get by, she grew sick, and knew that she would not make it through the fast approaching winters. but she did not want her daughter to die with her and was determined to find her a good home.

not longer after, a witcher arrived in the city. when colette learnt of this she tracked him down and asked that he take her child. but as soon as the witcher learnt that the baby was a girl, he declined, and set off. several weeks later, as winter hit nilgaard and its surrounding villages, vesemir discovered colette’s dead, frozen body in an abandoned hut somewhere out in the wilds. all was silent but for the ghostly howls of the storm outside, and then, miraculously, the cries of a living baby desperate to survive. after that, vesemir took zelda with him to kaer morhen...

[suresaint]

Zelda’s Coronation

“Goidemar’s Crown, resplendent in all its golden glory, was held above the fair-haired head of a slender eighteen-year-old who had, until ten years ago, been a stranger to the country she was now invited to rule. The wide blue eyes of this new kyng of Temeria were focused, her mind resolute that this very day was the will of the Gods. Many in the kingdom, not just the woman now occupying the throne, interpreted the kingdom’s bout of good luck as divine judgement. In her left hand she held a golden sceptre topped with a cross, while in her right hand she clutched another sceptre, mounted with a dove. The former represented her new temporal power while the latter symbolised a monarch’s spiritual authority, both of which were now vested in the royal person of Zelda aep Crispin, Kyng of all Temeria.”

[moresaints]

Thank you @martyrsaiint for putting to me that Zelda would likely marry Radovid in an alliance between Temeria and Redania. It is terrible, which means I love it. I hate him so much.

[moresaints]

I call this "looking for wife in chicken coop" ft. @martyrshe

[moresaints]

Philippa knocks on the doors leading to the sovereign's personal chambers, suddenly uncertain about what to do, wehther or not she should effectively be there or --- no, no. She knows Zelda would want her there, even if she may be surprised at first: after all, the gesture is wholly uncharacteristic of her.

When she opens, she thrusts her hand forward, holding a single lavender rose. "I'm not --- fond of traditions, as you know." She starts, lips downturning slightly, but she wipes her displeasure away immediately. Her gaze falls from the woman to the single flower she holds. "Love at first sight, a flower meant for royalty." The owl ring she wears suddenly feels scorching hot on her finger, like a promise. "I couldn't think of something more fitting that this for you."

@martyrshe

Vizima was awash with anticipation for the coming Valentine's feast, but no one was as excited for it as she was. Every year, at the ardent command of their monarch, the palace celebrated the Feast of Saint Valentine, and her excitement for its marking was so palpable that all throughout the palace its people were feverishly affected. It was the one day where men and women could publicly express their desires for one another, and no one cared a fig if those romantic gestures were grand and garish… or even filthy.

Zelda's tunic was a deep green, dyed with woad, and its edges were trimmed with golden thread in a pattern of interlocking knots. The gold embroidery followed the length of her sleeves, all the way down to the gold cuffs at her wrists. She hummed a light tune whilst her attendant fastened a belt around her waist. A small purse, stitched with a dove which held between its beak a single red rose, hung at her thigh. Zelda opened the purse and took out a brooch in the shape of a golden heart, and pinned it to her collar.

“The scabbard, your Grace,” said the attendant, presenting the ceremonial piece with her head bowed low in reverence. 

Zelda dropped her eyes to the weapon, its sharp blade tucked into an ornate leather sheath. Only the scabbard's jeweled handle was left visible. She should have requested an ornate bow and a set of heart-tipped arrows instead, she thinks, and played the part of Love.

She tied the dagger to the belt and let it rest at her hip. “How do I look?” She asked, presenting herself.

A depiction of courtly love had been sewn into the tunic front, its two lovers entwined. One of the lovers wore a beautiful corset patterned with owls and studded with a thousand tiny crimson jewels. In the flicker of candlelight, the lovers came alive.

“Very dashing, your Grace,” replied the attendant. She was holding out the king's cape when there came a knock at the door. 

Zelda glanced at the palm sized box on her desk, crafted from polished wood and lined with soft velvet. Inside lay a large Temerian sapphire, the stone perfectly cut, with facets that reflected light at every angle; its blue depth as deep as the sea.

“You may leave me now.” She told the young woman, not unkindly.

The young woman curtseyed and left through the hidden servant's door, concealed by a latched wall painted with animals.

Zelda waited until she heard the click of the latch before she opened the door. The light from inside cast a warm glow across her visitor's face, and Zelda felt a gentle heat blossom in her chest.

A honey-warm smile spread across her lips.

“Philippa,” Zelda said, resting the side of her head against the door. “I thought to surprise you, not the other way around.”

She need not ask why the mage was there. Her eyes had already fallen to the lavender rose held intimately between them.

Love at first sight, a flower meant for royalty.

“Not fond of traditions...” She murmured, mesmerised by the flower. But fond of me. And passionate, so passionate. In all you do, in all you believe, in all you love. And hate. They had that in common, that fire. Even as the flames burned from opposite ends of the wick.

From what garden had Philippa plucked such a flower? Zelda had never seen the like, not in Temeria. Its delicate petals were a soft shade of lavender, with a subtle gradient that faded from a pale hue at the edges to a rich, deep purple at its core.

Zelda pressed her face to its velvet-like petals and drew in its sweet fragrance, her eyes fluttering shut. She placed her fingers over Philippa's where she held its stalk, her index gently resting over the mage's gold ring with the owl on it. Perhaps it was a trick of her imagination, but the band felt hot to the touch.

She plucked the flower from her fingers, brushed her lips against the silk smooth petals, then reached across and kissed Philippa.

“Thank you,” she whispered against the mage's lips. Zelda's breath smelt like the sweet, floral aroma of the flower. “I will wear it tonight, during the feast. In the pocket at my breast, closest to my heart.”

No one would know what it meant except for the two of them.

Zelda stepped back into her room, leaving the open threshold between them, and viewed the mage thoughtfully. Her deep eyes went up and down, up and down; a slow inviting curl to one corner of her mouth. She twiddled the flower between her forefinger and thumb.

“I have something for you too, if you would like to come in.”

[moresaints]

[moresaints]

Imagine Zelda pregnant with Radovid’s baby 😤.

[moresaints]

Cannot get over that last picture I reblogged. All I see is a painting of fifteen year old Zelda in full Temerian regalia. Does it look like she is going to war? Yes. Has she ever been in a battle at that age? No.

[moresaints]

“You will see Henry, profound in deception, take an ambassador’s arm and charm him. Lying gives him a deep and subtle pleasure, so deep and subtle he does not know he is lying; he thinks he is the most truthful of princes.”

[moresaints]

[moresaints]

1268-9: A marriage alliance is drawn up between Temeria and Redania. Zelda I is wed to Radovid V. They welcomed their first born son and heir in 1269, Prince Crispin II. (Zelda is 24).

1272-3: Zelda gives birth to her second son, prince Calan the I. Named after Calanthe. (Zelda is 27).

[moresaints]

"whatever was wrong with him, he was game. i am sorry he would not yield."

@joyuex

The knight was Andrew La Valette, son of Sir Alfred La Valette, younger brother to the Duke of Ellander. He was just shy of nineteen, and now he was dead. Andrew, clad head-to-toe in armour, had appeared to all a towering man of some experienced age, not a boy just edging into manhood. But with his bascinet tossed from his sweet head, his soft brown curls matted with blood and his eyes half closed in death, he had transformed once more into a young and tragic boy. One of his gauntleted hands rested upon his chest and half covered the threefold silver gonfalon of Ellander. 

The colourful banners surrounding the tourney grounds snapped in the winds; people rustled nervously on their benches, the wood creaking under their weight; the horses huffed and brayed; men clanked as they fidgeted in their steel suits, their swords whispering in their scabbards. Someone coughed into the silence and it resounded across the pitch. Zelda, who had witnessed all of it, peered over the banister, fingers gripping its wood. The sand upon which Andrew's body lay grew dark with his blood, which had poured from the deep cut in his neck like wine but now had stopped.

She wished he would get up, her golden face solemn.

When the other knight spoke, she ignored him and turned instead to the man at her side. Thomas Greye stood waiting. He was frowning, as always, but she saw concern in his eyes, as well as expectancy. He waited for her to tell him what to do.

“Thomas,” she whispered. “Have someone ride out to inform the Duke of Ellander of his nephew's death. He must find out before the boy's father does. We will need Alistair here for when his brother arrives.” Alfred was hotheaded and a drunk. He would demand that his son's killer be punished, even though there was no justice to be sought. Andrew had consented. He had not yielded. The knight was innocent.

She turned her head to the side, away from the eyes of the crowds. “Find servants to help La Valette's men with his body. And somebody find me Chancellor Stigr.”

Thomas, along with a handful of others, hurried off. 

Zelda glanced at Philippa, still seated, then at the knight who stood patiently for her response.

To Philippa she said, quietly and anxiously: “Handle this, please.”

To the knight she said, loudly and confidently: “Dear sir, tell me your name.”

[moresaints]

“Edward’s outstanding kingship achieved wide currency during the fifteenth century and he became the epitome of warcraft and statesmanship whom later kings sought to resemble and against whom their actions were measured. […] in his person Edward comprised an ideal blend of desirable qualities; fearsome, yet compassionate, imposing, yet approachable, a celebrated warrior, yet meek and thoughtful.”

[moresaints]

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞?

a guiding, golden light.

Just because you cannot see your own heart doesn’t mean that others can’t. Your heart is blinding, captivating, a fire so bright that others can’t bring themselves to look away. It illuminates the path they follow and cements you as a guiding star for their own wayward hearts. Every experience you’ve lived through has built your lighthouse heart up just a little higher. You are inspirational, a light that doesn’t go out.

Tagged by: @doriole (Thanks! This was so cute). Tagging: Steal it.

[moresaints]

❝ The game you are entering into is a brutal and unforgiving one. ❞

@a1icent

Zelda notches an arrow into the string of her bow, and with a determined expression, pulls the bowstring stern. The muscles in her back strain with the effort.

The iron-tipped sparrow rests on the string, poised and ready for its imminent flight. Zelda's heart beats like the overture of a war song. And then, with a sudden release of tension, the arrow soars through the air with a piercing whistle.

For a moment, all is silent, as the arrow hurtles towards the bullseye. And then, with a resounding thwack, it hits its mark - almost. The arrow misses the centre of the target by a hair's breadth, and Temeria's monarch lowers her bow in disappointment.

“I've played many games,” she says, glimpsing the sorceress out of the corner of her good eye. “I don't much like the ones that are brutal and unforgiving. So many things are brutal and unforgiving. Why must we make games that way too?”

She acts as though she does not understand the game the sorceress is referring to. But the year is 1277. Zelda is now thirty-two. She has been king of all Temeria for fourteen years. She understands enough.

“But your concern for me is very touching.” There is a grimace in her smile, a hint of skepticism in her voice.

Alicent would not be the first sorceress to try and bend her ear. The only difference between them is the motive; she wonders what it is this one wants. She thinks: I will fall down dead from shock if there is not a thing in the world that this woman wants from me.

Zelda turns her attention to the boy-attendant standing patiently to her side. Before she says anything, he is reaching for another arrow from the bucket and handing it to her. She murmurs a thank-you that is carried away on the wind, and notches it.