#withpromise

@withpromise​ asked: as long as you’re not tired yet of talking, it helps to make it hurt less. ( from cad ! )

it’s not just her words,  but the way she says it that brings an overjoyed chuckle out of merlin. he grins, and there’s an undeniable fondness in the way he regards her, that keeps growing with a surprising speed the more time they spend with each other.    ❝  i’m afraid you fall into the very treacherous category of a young girl. it seems to wake something in those big burly types, y’know? protectiveness, or more likely a strong wish to be patronizing.  ❞

then, he leans forward, his posture suggesting something of a conspirator. it’s a familiar look on him, though done in a slightly theatrical manner that still suits him just fine.    ❝  i used to work with a lot of knights, y’know? there are no people more prone to making speeches than the grand warrior kinds, the ones too involved with their own superiority, and those who rather enjoy being considered villainous. a lot of these cross quite often.  ❞

@withpromise​​    —    THE  ANSWERS  WILL  ONLY  HURT  US  BOTH. 

IT   IS   MUCH   BETTER   TO   KNOW,   CALEB   THINKS      —      AFTER   ALL   THIS   TIME,   AFTER   WHAT   HE   LEARNS   FROM   THEIR      (   FORMER   )      MASTER   AT   HIS   TABLE   THIS   LAST   TIME.         so   much   he   wishes   he   had   known   .   .   .      though   perhaps   there   is   truth   to   wulf’s   thoughts   as   well.      if   he   had   learned   of   ikithon’s   thoughts   and   feelings   and   intentions   months   earlier      —      years   earlier      —      he   would   have   .   .   .      well,   he   does   not   know.      but   it   would   not   have   been   as   it   is   now:      with   anger,   and   not   at   himself      —      at   the   man   who   deserves   it.      the   monster   who   breaks   and   binds   children   for   his   own   ends.   

@withpromise​ ( eadwulf ) liked for a new dawn starter. 

          𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝. like, okay, it sucks that people can’t worship the god they want ( like, the traveler who is too cool not to be worshipped –– even though they shouldn’t because he doesn’t want to be! ), but also, there’s too many parties the empire is missing out on! like new dawn, when mama and her would watch people sail lanterns into the skyline, some with their predications and some with their aspirations for the new year. mama would help her paint hers blue, with little red stars in the sky, bluud a green dragon beside there, protecting them. it was a tradition she’d adored, growing up, no matter the goddess it symbolized. 

@withpromise​    —    I  SAID  THAT  I  COULD  BE  JUST  WHAT  YOU  WANTED  AS  IF  I  COULD  KEEP  A  PROMISE. 

EYES   WIDE,   SHOULDERS   SHAKING,   HE   LOOKS   TO   ASTRID,   WHO   LOOKS   NEARLY   AS   HELPLESS   AS   BREN.         it   is   .   .   .      so   rare   to   see   eadwulf   shaken      —      to   see   him   as   broken   as   bren   feels   most   days.      he   is   afraid   to   touch   his   friend,   but   afraid   to   leave   him   be   as   well      —      alone   and   damaged   in   his   room.      he   wishes   he   had   taken   the   time,   just   this   once,   to   learn   a   healing   spell   or   two,   even   if   he   had   to   go   around   master   ikithon’s   regimen   and   instruction   to   do   so.      master   .   .   .      knows   best.      this   is   necessary,   and   it   will   be   good   one   day      —      that   is   what   he   always   says.      but   it   is   easier   to   believe   when   it   is   not   wulf   he’s   hurting.      when   it   is   not   wulf   he   has   reduced   to   this.   

there’s a quiet sense of peace between them.  not on purpose, just...here.  rose can’t help feeling like that around the doctor, now.  he’s a kind of consistent warmth she’s never understood.  there’s a fire crackling easily before them, the bright blue sand stretching out endlessly beneath them.  she’s halfway to sleep, tilted into him because it’s the easiest way to be.

she’s never been more proud.  for all that’s happened between them, all they’ve been through, both together and apart, gwen thinks that perhaps it was all meant to bring them here.  and there he stands, now, a knight of camelot, and gwen beams at him.

they don’t get a chance to speak until later, when the festivities have died down and people are beginning to mill away.  they sit facing each other with their knees pressed together like when they were children, a plate of fruit resting between them.  gwen laughs vaguely at something, before swallowing, sobering slightly.