amaranthine

anonymous asked:

"What's that? Cat got your tongue?"

When she doesn’t answer straight away, Alistair’s smile faulters a little.He tries not to fidget or look uneasy, but the longer Isha stares at him, the harder it is for him not to move around.

Isha manages to squeeze a sound out of her mouth, but its not a word and quickly covers her mouth.

Alistair clears his throat and because the silence is too much, he has to say something. “What’s that? Cat got your tongue?”

His teasing snaps her out of her surprised stupor as he hoped it would and she blinks rapidly at him, eyes dropping from his face to the ring between his fingers.

"You…" Isha swallows, "have the worst timing. And you’re mad."

He raises his eyebrows, “that isn’t a no.”

"I’m going to Amaranthine in two days!" Isha snaps, "you’re asking me now? When we’re going to be seperate for who knows how long?"

Wincing a little, Alistair avoids the mages flailing hands as she gestures wiildly at him, talking quickly about how he can’t marry a mage anyway, plus they’re Grey Wardens and why would he do this now?

"I’m doing this now," he begins, "because I love you and because you’re going to Amaranthine. If we’re going to get married, it’s going to be done properly, not some half-arsed wedding in a backwater Chantry in the middle of no where.”

"Alistair…" Isha’s voice drops and her eyes return to the ring. Its silver, not gold - she hates gold and he’s remembered. There’s a small stone in the centre, nothing grand or eyecatching, but understated.

"Also," Alistair continues, slowly grasping her left hand and watching Isha watch him slide the finger onto the appropriate finger, "I can marry a mage, and if you say yes, I’m going to marry a mage.”

Isha flexes her fingers, and must admit to herself how at home the ring feels on her hand.

"If?" She repeats, raising her eyes to meet Alistair’s.

He smiles softly, gently holding her hands in his. “Well, I don’t want to be presumptious. You haven’t said yes, yet.”

"You’re that certain I’ll say yes?" She asks, challenging him a little. He says nothing, just raises both eyebrows and looks at her shrewdly. "Alright, yes." She huffs and smothers herself against his chest when he pulls her close. "I still think you’re mad."

music-in-the-bell-jar replied to your post: “YOU SHOULD ALL ASK ME QUESTIONS ABOUT MY WARDEN AND LELIANA”:

What do they do in the time between the blight ending and Inquisition?

it was like a honeymoon period at first, but without the wedding. for leliana: the world had never been so beautiful. for amell: life had never had so much promise. they could shut themselves up in amell’s quarters in amaranthine for a whole day and lock out the rest of the world, lose themselves in each other - the next week they’d throw themselves to the wind, bored of solitude and confinement, and look for adventure on the road.

when justinia called, it was harder. theia would never keep leliana away from what she had to do, but she missed her, fiercely, and she hated that a world where she had so much freedom could construct such elaborate circumstances to still deny her what she wanted most. they wrote each other letters, leliana describing in elaborate detail the scenery and the people around her, amell alternating between subtly dirty innuendo and painstakingly copied love poetry from the careworn books she’d begun to keep near her bed.

"the land i’m in is so remote i can see the sky as clearly as we did from our small camp. i counted the stars, naming those i could, and those i couldn’t i called after heroes from all our favorite tales. you sprouted freckles, those months on the road as we scrambled to build your army, and i traced the shape of them in the night sky so i could say you were there above me. two more weeks, and i can come to you. wait for me."

"today i entertained an orlesian merchant in the keep who brought with him any number of silks you’d love and the sound of his own voice. hours and hours, droning on about his little cottage in the dales with it’s fountains and it’s songbirds. he asked if i had a favorite birdsong and i told him: the nightingale at dusk."

In Your Arms by tincek-marincek

Another artwork done for the game Amaranthine Story (now on Indiegogo here). It’s done traditionally with watercolors on Canson 100% cotton watercolor paper. And I drew it 11.5 hours…more info you can check on links above. Enjoy.

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Matthias Gamble by tincek-marincek

And here’s design of Matthias Gamble which I drew for the game Amaranthine Story (now on the Indiegogo here). I drew him in Photoshop CS6 for 20.5 hours (Matthias 15 hours…sword 5.5 hours). I also posted details from the drawing. Enjoy.