#fitztrevelyan

@fitztrevelyan​ sent:  ❝ everything is poetry when you’re drunk. ❞

Iorveth and Mistral Incorrect Quotes:

Iorveth: If you were to vacuum up jello through a metal tube, well I think that’d be a neat noise Mistral: I beg to differ Iorveth: Then Beg 

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Mistral: How many kids do you have? Iorveth: Biologically, emotionally, or legally? 

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Iorveth: *Kicks the door down looking panicked* Mistral: What did you do? Iorveth: Nobody died. Mistral: WHAT KIND OF ANSWER IS THAT?! 

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Iorveth: Oh just so you know, it's very muggy outside Mistral: Mistral: Iorveth, I swear, if I step outside and all of our mugs are on the front lawn... Iorveth: *Sips coffee from bowl* 

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Iorveth: God, give me patience. Mistral: I think you mean 'give me strength'. Iorveth: If God gave me strength, you'd be dead. 

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It’s  nice    ...     for  once  in  Ciri’s  hectic  life.    To  just  sit  around.    Without  the  newest  guise  of  Empress.    Just  Ciri,   fingers  reaching  up  to  touch  the  scar  on  her  face  like  she  forgot  it  was  there.    Her  head  is  leaning  against  the  tree.    Somewhere  in  the  distance  a  cow  moos.    She  smiles,   just  the  slightest.

She lets out a snort of amusement, eyebrows arched, eyes dancing with mirth. “Don’t get too excited,” Astoria warns. “I’m still not entirely convinced.” 

     But it’s a lie and anyone listening knows it. She doesn’t even try to sell it; she wrinkles her nose, pretends to be annoyed, but she lets out a sigh and gestures for Mistral to move past her. “Be charming, then,” she says dryly, but her eyes are still alight with laughter. “If you want to wade into whatever that is, then be my guest. It saves me the trouble of having to deal with that many Orlesians.” 

     All around them is noise and movement, aristocrats keeping a careful eye on their movements, their interactions. Even the most lighthearted teasing and humor carries meaning here; the Game is incessant, and Astoria is well-enough versed in it to know that even the slightest and most innocent neglect of the countless rules and expectations can lead to disaster.

     But... but. If anyone can handle this, it’s Mistral. Astoria has seen how she moves through the world. She wonders if part of it is, simply, that a bastard moves differently than a legitimate daughter — constantly aware of how her history might be used against her.

     “Make me proud,” she teases. “I trust you.”

"Some days 

I’m more WOLF than WOMAN

and I’m still learning 

how to stop apologizing 

for my wild”

Canon divergent Trevelyan penned by Em. 

@fitztrevelyan

Besides my mind, you mean? The curt reply was on the tip of his tongue when he bit it back. He knew his irritation to be more a product of his own mounting stress than actually directed at the woman before him. It was a stress that seemed to grow in direct proportion to the pile of missives on his desk that multiplied every time he looked at it. 

Shifting himself from where his weight had been bearing down against the desk and back up into a standing position, he raked a hand slowly over his face.  “I was just penning a response to the Lady Ambassador and now it seems to have vanished off the face of Thedas.” 

He blinks, staring at her with a twinge of concern.

@fitztrevelyan​ said: ❝  so,  what would you be?  if you had the power to change all the things making you unhappy,  what would your life look like?  ❞ for Ciri, if u like :-) IT’S ALL ABOUT THE YEARNING | NOT ACCEPTING

Ciri can’t help but laugh at these words. She’s not even sure of what to say. Her life is a mess, and even more since she’s running away from the Wild Hunt. She misses her family so damn much, but it’s the only way to keep them safe. She’s a threat for everyone, and she hates it.