victorruthven

[victorruthven]

When Love Is Gone

There was a time when I was sure

That you and I were truly one

Victor first spotted Gabriel from across a meadow in the Royal Botanical Garden of Fessenburg. The slight and energetic young student appeared framed by flowers and Victor had never seen anything so beautiful. The two must have exchanged shy glances for the better part of an hour before Gabriel approached.

“Hi there. I hope this doesn’t come off as strange, but may I sketch you?”

Victor’s heart caught in his throat and all words failed him. He could only nod, spellbound, as Gabriel Edleston’s smile set his world alight.

That our future was forever

And would never come undone

Perhaps they were a bit mad to do it, but Victor and Gabriel’s spur-of-the-moment elopement after just a year’s courtship felt like the only natural choice they could have made. “Deveraux will never let us hear the end of this one,” Gabriel cackled as they jogged, hand-in-hand, from the courthouse.

Victor pulled him to a stop and into his arms, his poet’s heart getting the better of him. “Never mind that. Let him scold all he likes. Today, there isn’t anyone else or anything else.” He kissed his new husband tenderly. “Today, there’s only the two of us and eternity.”

And we came so close to being close

And though you cared for me

There’s distance in your eyes tonight

So we’re not meant to be

“Nienna, Gabriel! My hometown, my friends, my parents… All of it’s gone! All of Nienna!” In his frustration, Victor slammed his fist down on the worktable between them.

Gabriel didn’t so much as flinch, but looked up from his tinkering project with annoyance. “Victor, I am sympathetic to your losses, but I must remind you that you’re not the only person who has lost and suffered in this war.”

What Victor wanted to say was, “But I’m your husband,” but the argument curled up and died somewhere in his throat. He had a sinking suspicion that Gabriel no longer wanted to hear it.

The love is gone

The love is gone

The sweetest dream

That we have ever known

“How could you?” Gabriel hissed through gritted teeth as he threw his agent’s report in Victor’s face. “Why would you smuggle for the enemy?”

“Why were you having your spies follow me?”

“Answer the goddamn question.” There was an undercurrent of cold fury in Gabriel’s voice that Victor had never heard before. He could only imagine he saved this tone of voice for the battlefield.

“Is that an order, General?” Victor posed the question with a sneer, but Gabriel did not take the bait. Victor sighed. “It’s not like it’s weapons, Gabriel. It’s food and blankets and medicine. For the refugees of Nienna, and now, of Squall’s End. They didn’t all go west to your precious Republic. People are hungry everywhere, you know. Maybe the power’s all gone to your head and you’ve forgotten that.”

The tent fell uncomfortably quiet as Gabriel stopped pacing and fixed Victor to the spot with a withering glare. “Everything you steal from my supply lines, you snatch from the hands of my people. My soldiers. All of these people look to me as a leader, and if they find out you’ve made this much of a fool of me…” He trailed off, and Victor could practically see the grisly outcomes unfolding in Gabriel’s mind. “I’m done with you, Victor,” he continued. “You cannot come back. I never want to see you again.”

Victor’s resolve crumbled. “I- Gabriel, no. Please.”

“We’re done here. Go.”

The love is gone

The love is gone

I wish you well

But I must leave you now alone

“No! Please! I’ll do whatever you want! I’ll do it!” Victor’s head stopped moving, a mere inch or two from the surface of the scalding water.

His torturer yanked him up by his hair, then loosened his grip. “Anything, you say? My benefactor will be pleased to hear that you’re being a bit more…agreeable.”

Victor nodded, his breath ragged. “Yes, anything. Just…please, no more.”

A chuckle echoed in the shadowy chamber. “This war’s coming to an end. If you really do mean what you say, we want Deveraux Butcher dead before the peace talks. Do I make myself clear?”

There comes a moment in your life

Like a window and you see

Your future there before you

And how perfect life can be

A man doesn’t scream when you stab him in the back, as Victor Ruthven quickly learned. The sound that does come out is a horrible, strangled little gasp as the breath is driven out of his body. From the moment his dagger found its target, Victor knew that he would never be able to forget the sound. Never, not for a moment.

And then? The shocked, fearful eyes that met his own were not Deveraux’s. As his very soul tore in two, Victor realized the magnitude of his mistake. He’d been set up. His mind racing, Victor held his estranged husband as he died. There was only them and eternity. One last time.

But adventure calls with unknown voices

Pulling you away

Victor gazed down at Gabriel’s face, now transformed into a pale and waxy-looking mask amid its frame of flowers. In all their years of knowing each other, Victor had never seen him looking so still. The irrepressible energy that once animated his features had been snuffed out and the resulting guilt consumed Victor entirely. His heart caught in his throat and all words failed him.

“Colonel Herdan, you may begin your salute.” Victor turned and watched as a bleary-eyed General Fenmaris O’Reilly clenched his jaw and lowered his cavalry sabre.

“Present arms.” Victor could hear the tremor in Faelar’s voice as he gave the order to seven men and women of the Crowhaven Rifles. “Ready. Aim. Fire.”

Be careful or you may regret

The choice you make someday

It was almost love It was almost always It was like a fairytale we’d live out You and I And yes some dreams come true And yes some dreams fall through And yes the time has come for us to say goodbye

[victorruthven]

thank you Wikipedia, I would certainly love to help

[victorruthven]

Zelda Fitzgerald, Letter to F. Scott Fitzgerald

[victorruthven]

I sexily hate the government so fucking much

[victorruthven]

“I’m not brave any more darling. I’m all broken. They’ve broken me.”

— Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms (via creatingaquietmind)

[victorruthven]

The fire burned brightly, casting the room in a warm, reddish glow. Gabriel sat before it, nursing a glass of brandy in his hand absentmindedly. The situation he found himself in was… delicate… to say the least. Reports from up and down the rapidly growing front indicated that there was an unofficial truce between the two warring factions. A complete and total armistice, unanimously decided upon by the enlisted men and women of the Republic and Kingdom’s armies. Deveraux had been beside himself in the War Council, horrified that the enlisted troops would even consider making friendly with the enemy. Ilona took the news best, arguing that a bit of humanity was necessary for the survival of their cause. Fenmaris just stood to the side, not saying much of anything, though Gabriel could have sworn he saw the vaguest hint of amusement in his face.

Gabriel, as always, found himself somewhere right in between the polar extremes of Deveraux and Ilona. He was taken aback, of course. The fall of Nienna had been devastating, and the thought of any goodwill on either side seemed… foolish to him. Damned foolish, really. Yet here they were, late in the evening of Newfrost, and Gabriel didn’t have it in him to be all that upset either. He knew the truce wouldn’t last. In a few hours, the young soldiers would go back to their respective lines and begin the slaughter anew. The activities of the day should not be encouraged, but there were ways to prevent its recurrence without resorting to blanket punishments.

The door quietly creaked open, and Fenmaris slid into the room.

“What do you think the appropriate response to the Newfrost Truce should be, mellon nin?” Gabriel asked, smirking as Fen took his usual place in the chair beside him.

Fen held out his hands to the firelight, and replied rather deadpan, “Line the traitors up and shoot them.”

Gabiel snorted. “You’re even worse than Butcher, gods forbid.”

The corner of Fen’s mouth twitched into the ghost of a smile. “Not so. Deveraux wanted them drawn and quartered.”

“Do you have any suggestions other than me executing half my fighting force?” Gabriel pressed, actually wanting a serious response. “You didn’t say much at the meeting.”

“I’ve taken up so much of the conversation the past few months that I wanted others to shine…” another subtle grin, “and honestly, nothing I could have said in the moment would have helped. Last thing I needed was Deveraux Butcher executing me. Or Ilona, for that matter.”

“Fine, fine. But you’re with me now, and I could use some advice.”

Fenmaris crossed his arms, choosing his words carefully. “If it were up to me… I’d show them mercy. We’ve been fighting for… gods... three years now? The front is growing more and more defined every day. We’ve suffered terrible losses for a few extra miles of… dirt, really. And we are no closer to ending this conflict than we were in Crowhaven. And yet… they’ve never done this before, have they? Clearly they needed some reminder that there is still something worth celebrating. Let them have their holiday. It’ll be the last many of them will ever have, anyway...”

Gabriel frowned, then nodded. “A compelling, if morbid, argument, Fen.” He took another sip of his brandy and closed his eyes.

Fen tentatively reached over, resting a hand on his arm. “It might be the last either of us will have, as well.”

“Which means?”

“Well… everything and nothing, I suppose.” Fen sighed, taking his hand away. “If you’re in the Newfrost spirit now, might you might be so kind as to give me a brandy too, you stingy bastard?”

“As you wish, my friend,” Gabriel laughed, quickly hopping up to grab Fen a drink and hand it to him.

“Alassëa Vinya-nixe, Gabriel,” Fen smiled, holding up his glass in a toast.

“Haluth Tagfel, Fen.”

The next morning, the war went on as if nothing happened at all.

[victorruthven]

I’m going to defeat you with the power of friendship and this gun I found

[victorruthven]

Live deliciously - a study from Goya’s “Witches Sabbath”

[victorruthven]

Nothing to Lose.

The unparalleled opulence of the central hall made Gabriel stomach twinge with nausea. The objects in this room alone were worth more than the annual salaries of half the citizens of Fessenburg, and certainly worth more than most of the citizens of Crowhaven. Hell, a single vase could have spared his own family a lifetime of poverty. The entire estate, and the wealth of Lord Harran and his imbecilic family, could have supported almost every fraught social program that the new republic was struggling to get off the ground.

And they were only one family.  

The fact that they managed to keep everything- their wealth and their power- was unconscionable. The fact that the war resulted in the deaths of hundreds of thousands of brave soldiers and innocent civilians alike, for a world no better than the one that existed before, was unbearable.

The fact that Gabriel Edleston gave up everything to put an end to all of this… for nothing… well…

The peace talks were supposed to go differently. And the formation of a new republic was supposed to be egalitarian. A government of the people, and all that. In all the years of the fight, the very idea of a House of Lords was laughed down as an impossibility. The very people who created the need for a war should not have been rewarded when the war was won. It was never supposed to end like this.

Gabriel Edleston was a nobody. He was very well aware of it. At every state dinner Lord Varden dragged him to, the passive-aggressive jabs and cold stares made the tension suffocating. Early in the war, as a newly minted general, negotiating with the more… reasonable… nobles was still tedious and difficult. Rank meant little, without the pedigree to show for it. It was only when he started winning battles that he began to command a more universal respect (despite his humble origins, as many were still all-too eager to remind him).

He had been on the fence about the Restless Regiment. Yes, it was never supposed to end like this, but the thought of more fighting… more violence… it was almost too much, really.

But as he stood in the central hall, with its marble façade and priceless artifacts- as he heard the guards outside transporting military crates somewhere into the deeper recesses of the compound- as he found the letters talking about unparalleled super-weapons and threats to the stability of the republic-

Well.

Maybe the Restless Regiment was on to something. After all, the war had already taken everything from him. What else did he have to lose?

[victorruthven]

Taken to the Grave

Fenmaris O’Reilly was Gabriel Edleston’s fourth or fifth love- he couldn’t quite say for sure. Love was rather complicated that way, especially for one who fell in and out of it as often as he did. But Fen was different, too. And maybe that’s what mattered most. Sure, Fen was not the first, but he was certainly the last, and- if Gabriel was being honest with himself- that claim didn’t just hold true because he died.

Fen was not conventionally attractive. His face was harsh and angular, and his aloof demeanor did nothing to negate his general aura of coldness. He never smiled, it seemed, and most outside his own regiments were afraid to even go near him. He preferred it that way. Less distractions.

In theory.

Gabriel loved distractions, as long as they didn’t result in any negative ramifications, and Fen’s unflappability became his primary obsession from the start. It became a sort of game- make Fen smile, make Fen laugh, make Fen... react. Anything to get a rise out of him. Which he somehow managed constantly.

Gabriel was genuinely shocked, but incredibly pleased, when Fen admitted one day that he found his nonsense downright charming.

The pit in his stomach that he felt as Fen said it, however, was far less enjoyable. Especially when it resurfaced every time the two generals were alone. A subtle but pointed game of flirtation began to seep into every private conversation they shared, and if Gabriel had sense he would have put a stop to it. But it was more fun to keep playing along. It didn’t mean anything, after all.

“Are you seeing anyone?” He asked one night, two years into the war, with an innocent smile on his face as he nursed the glass of whiskey in his hand.

Fen, quite deadpan, simply replied, “No.”

“If you’re interested, I could probably help you find someone. I think I could make a decent wing-man...”

Fen blushed, refusing to look up from the map in front of him. “I’ll pass, thank you.”

Gabriel sighed. “You’re no fun.”

“I’ll have fun when the war is over.”

“We could be dead before the war is over.”

“The less heartbreak I leave behind, then, the better.”

“That’s no way to live, Fenmaris.”

“Are you seeing anyone, then?” Fen sighed, finally looking up at him.

Gabriel hesitated for a split second, then nodded. “Yes, I am.”

Fen looked almost taken aback, but recovered his composure quickly. “Yes, well, you keep your affairs in order, and let me keep mine.”

He wasn’t wrong, certainly, but the comment still stung like a slap to the face. Gabriel frowned. “You know, if I’m ever being too annoying you could always punch me.”

Fen shrugged, the faintest smile tugging at his lips. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Gabriel was married. And damn it, he loved his husband. He truly did. Victor was loving and safe and warm and romantic and… kind. One of the kindest people Gabriel had ever known. How could he have resisted? Of course he had fallen in love. He was still in love, damn it. This was only a crush- and certainly Victor got plenty of those himself. It didn’t mean that either of them would cheat; it didn’t mean the marriage was on the rocks.

Until… the marriage was on the rocks. Fen had little to do with it, on a personal level. Though, Gabriel thought morbidly, on a larger level Fen had almost everything to do with it. The siege of Nienna had fallen mostly to the strategizing of Fenmaris, while Gabriel acted as more of a front-line operative. Then, Nienna fell- completely razed to the ground.

Victor never fully forgave him for that, and there was too much still to do before Gabriel could even try to make amends. As the war progressed, making amends became less and less of a priority. The war was changing him- breaking him. The death, the destruction, the unmitigated slaughter was enough to break most anyone, and Gabriel Edleston was never meant to be a soldier in the first place.

He grew colder, more distant. In private, he drank to banish away the nightmares. In private he broke down, whenever he was certain he was alone. No one knew. Not Deveraux. Not Faelar. Not Victor. Not Femaris. He was careful, so very careful. Until he wasn’t. He never expected to get caught. Yet there Fen was, standing in the doorway with a heartbroken look upon his face. Fen had never looked so sad before. Gabriel had never expected that either. Yet before he could say anything, Fen pulled him into a careful embrace, and Gabriel sobbed, openly and desperately, finally casting off the burden he’d been carrying for years.

There were no secrets between them, from then on.

In Year Six of the war, The Battle of Squalls End became the crowning victory of the Crowhaven Rifles. In Year Six of the war, Gabriel and Victor separated, after a bitter fight that ended their marriage for good. In Year Six of the war, the war itself became a stalemate, as an immovable front bisected the entire continent. In Year Six of the war, Gabriel Edleston kissed Fenmaris O’Reilly, in secret, and felt a shred of hope for the first time in years.

In Year Seven of the war, Gabriel confessed his love. It was not like the fast courtships of the past- the whirlwind romances that ended as soon as the honeymoon phase was over. Fenmaris was Gabriel’s fourth of fifth love, yes, and Gabriel was certain that he was the love of his life.

No one knew, of course. They were a liability to one another- one that the enemy would gladly exploit. They kept it secret from everyone save themselves, swearing that when the war was over, they could have a life together.

Gabriel died the day before the armistice, and took their romance to his grave.

[victorruthven]

i almost lost everything i got to this scratch at my soul, i clench my fist (paper mache - iris lune)

Series: Vax’ildan | Vex’ahlia | Keyleth | Percival | Pike | Scanlan | Grog

- - - > Prints Available! <3

[victorruthven]

Alice Notley, from Alma, or The Dead Women: Poems; “Glued To Our Bodies,”

[victorruthven]

Paco Rabanne / Fall 2019

[victorruthven]

[victorruthven]

fake relationship but its a king and his concubine that was once an amazing soldier but he couldn’t go up the ranks for whatever reason so the king was like listen. hear me out. you can be my strategy dude. u just gotta be okay w walking around shirtless a lot. and soldier dude is like man that’s an UPSIDE and yknow they end up falling in love

[victorruthven]

the fact that i wasnt born with wings so i can propel into the sky just to freefall and extend my wings at the last second to fly mere feet above the ground is homophobic

[victorruthven]

EMILY BRONTË, Wuthering Heights

MARY SHELLEY, Frankenstein