#noblybled

@noblybled​

‘     i heard you pissed my brother off.     congrats,     welcome to an exclusive club               only about seven billion of us,     so far.    ’

bold of the inquisition team to think i wouldn't side with solas

@noblybled​ (ELAINE!) said: ❛ Do you think there’s a thing worse than that? ❜

           the wails of the fallen knight’s wife pierce through her like a bolt through weak armor. soon she shall be in a room with that woman, attempting to comfort as best she can. to offer help, to offer empty comfort in what the fallen man has done for the goodness of the kingdom. but for now the woman is following his lifeless body home to grieve, and in these first moments it is best to let the waves of grief crash over unknown. beneath the wails, elaine’s voice is so quiet that the queen barely hears it. but when she does, a flicker of something despairing passes quick across her face, followed by a settling into something like sympathy. “i do not,” guinevere says, and her eyes lift over the files of men to the place where arthur sits tall upon his horse. “i have seen that scene of grief too many times, and i do not know that i could bear it.” not quite admission of weakness, no admission of anything the world does not already know: how her heart, her life, is tied to arthur’s. (though those eyes move from arthur to lancelot - - briefly enough not to elicit suspicion, still long enough for his eyes to meet hers.) “be glad that god in his grace has brought our own husbands home, lady elaine, and pray for those who are not so happy.” 

@noblybled​ (ELAINE!) sent: ❛ selfish people always say that ; anyone is selfish who doesn’t do what they want . you are more selfish than i am . you’re the most selfish person i ever saw . ❜ to GUINEVERE!

@noblybled​ (ELAINE!) said:  ❛ how do you like yourself ? ❜ to GUINEVERE!

          already she can feel the beginnings of a headache pulsing just behind her eyes. her smile is a thin, sharp thing, and the glance of her eyes sharper still. she hasn’t the time for this, says the coolness of her expression. much more important things than impertinent questions wait for her. 

            and she knows too much, now, to allow such a question to go unreturned. the ice of it forms around her heart, that knowledge. makes her look at elaine the same way she might look at an enemy’s sword set upon a table. not afraid, not at all. cool, calculating, calm. dismissive. 

          “that is a strange question to ask your queen, lady elaine,” she says, “i like myself just fine, i assure you. the question, i suppose, is this...” the slightest curve of a smile, whip-quick, glass-sharp. “how do you like yourself?” 

@noblybled​ (ELAINE!) said:  ❛ why was i forgotten ? ❜ to GUINEVERE!

            guinevere is not cruel: not in image nor in truth. she is the beloved queen, she has not earned that title with undue barbs, vicious jabs ill-placed. she can be sharp with those who cross her, she can weave and scheme the downfall of enemies, and yet she looks at elaine, and feels...nothing at all. 

              green eyes meet elaine’s impassively, clear and still as glass. perhaps she would be cruel, she thinks, were it not for lancelot. had he harbored more ill-will. had she known more or else known less, perhaps she would. and yet...

              one blink and then another, and the barest hint of a smile. “you were not,” she says. and what question she is answering, exactly, is difficult to say: how much does elaine know, after all? guinevere does not know, and cannot tell. you were not forgotten when lancelot returned and came back into my arms, she thinks. you were not forgotten and yet it was not enough. (and perhaps had things been different, had they both been different women, it would not have mattered at all: and yet guinevere had not bid farewell to her lover, sent him back to elaine, and elaine seemed unlikely simply to loose her claim on lancelot, and so between them stretched this taught tense thread, binding where neither wished it.) “you were not forgotten at all.”