#morcfcrarum

he was pacing again, fretting about the face he saw in the crowd of ezians. it had been why he had not killed them. she had looked remarkably similar. it had been a while since rue had been lost, and seeing someone who looked... just like her was...distressing to say the least.

finally, he set himself in his task. he goes to one of the guards outside his room. “SEND ME THE ONE THEY CALLED ‘BRIAR’. NOW. DON’T DALLY.” he returned to his room and took out the miniature she’d had made for him before her voyage. he had clasped her hand and begged her to be safe. she had pressed this in his hand in response.

elektra let out a silent huff and threw the chalkboard across the silent halls of healing. just to fucking hear something. she looked up at emil, and she tried not to cry. she laid back in bed, beaten again by the fucking divines. her life history had been riddled with tragedies, and just when she had worked up the nerve to think about possibly telling antigone about her...her troubles, she gets injured.

poor boy. he had carried ragnar into the halls, and he had made sure a healer and a silver haired woman got to him before calling for anna. “ANNA!” he’d have to marry her now. divines, if he didn’t marry her, he might die.

he had not slept since the ball. most nights were spent pouring over religious texts he had borrowed from mirza. perhaps the weakness of the gods was in the very texts of worship. he would go on the expedition to the castle when he could. he WOULD. he needed to come to terms with everything.

“HI,” lief says as he pokes his head in the cobbler’s building. he looks apprehensive, holding a TRAGIC pair of boots that look like they’re on the verge of disintegrating.

he crooned, earning honest money for once. he strums at his lute, the most beautiful loot one could steal. the craftsmanship on it is immaculate, and the wood is polished to perfection. he might as well have it look beautiful if he’s going to convince people he is who he says he is.

he’s a damn good singer, and at least four men and FIVE others are in love with him by the end of his third song. the girl in red in the back keeps giving him bedroom eyes. perhaps he’ll take all ten of them back to his room. it would be terribly taxing, but he was always up to the task

“SO, I CAN EXPLAIN... THE EARS,” aloysius started, smiling at miłosz as best he can. he’s sure he’s probably in trouble with the other bard, but he can cure anything with a little kiss and maybe a quick roll in the hay.