petitsdieu​:

^{She’s unsure if he’s playing with her but she chooses to accept his words at face value. Even her, with her careless ways, knows better than to mess with a pirate’s temper. And that she shouldn’t get too comfortable with his current friendliness. Still, despite all the precautions, she is intrigued by the idea of having dinner with a pirate. “Thank you.” She accepts his comments, warmly. “I don’t believe I’ve ever met a pirate before.” He wasn’t what she expected a pirate would be. “And I am very curious. I will accept your dinner offer. I haven’t the slightest clue where to go. Do you?”}

Westley was a lot of things, but dishonest was not one of his traits. Forward and forthright, he vowed to make an honest living by taking from the scum of the Earth. When he approached the dame, he didn’t have a single ill intention in mind. Why else would he offer most of his coins? It wasn’t like he didn’t have another purse on his persons to fulfill what he needed. Scouting for more crew could wait for now. His mission was food with the young lady. “You’re quite welcome.” He sang out. “Not many have lived to tell the tale, but you’re very safe from any harm that may be inflicted.” Not knowing her name, he couldn’t help to wonder to himself. Then again, he made no move to really introduce himself. “Where there is a port, there be a tavern. I believe it’s up in the upper parts of the city. Shall we?” He offered his arm to her so he could guide them along.

storitale​:

“You’d be surprised. One would think she grew up in the court, but that is far from the truth. Gwen used to tend to the Lady Morgana before well … I’m sure you’ve heard some of that story. I can explain later when we’re not in the hall.” If Belle was here to stay, which she did not know, Sayuri was sure that the woman was going to want to catch up on her environment. “I expect you will be a beloved Queen in that case. And it is an honor as such to tend to you, Your Highness.” Sayuri knew to be polite, but she could help but want to be her friend. Maybe there was something more there, however. “Perhaps your father could visit if you’ve been here for a time? Camelot would benefit from delightful soups in the winter.” Soon she was guiding the young woman though the palace and toward her chambers, which were nearly as grande as the Kings. If Arthur had not been married, she was sure Belle would have been paired off with him instead.

“Really?” She was a bit shocked at the queen having such mere beginnings. It would explain why she was so welcoming in the letter that was sent to her before she appeared in court and before Merlin sent one. “You would be surprised how little I know. My village really didn’t get gossip. I stuck to reading books and staying out of the square with other girls. I was an odd girl.” Hoping her papa would join her here in Camelot, she was waiting until Odin left to write the letter. With his trinkets and gadgets, he was bound to get a good customer base here. He wouldn’t have to struggle so much with her helping him. Maybe he would even set a shop up. The thought excited her. “I hope so. So much needs to be done from what I read. Cornwall seems so… behind.” Shaking her head. “Please, just call me Belle.” Her cheeks flushed when she corrected her gently. She wasn’t used to formal titles and didn’t know if Sayuri would be opposed. “Oh indeed. I was thinking of inviting him. He would love the market. See, he’s an inventor and a smart one. He’s always making new gadgets. I have one with me if you want to see it.” It was a music box he made for her. It had a small princess that danced in a similar yellow dress she was given. The garment had been his wife’s. Coming to her chambers, her eyes went a bit wide. It was larger than her father’s cottage.

ofteaandmagic​:

This wasn’t her idea, no, it was definitely Merlin’s–who had brought the idea to Arthur himself. So was it really Arthur’s idea instead? Honestly it was hard to say, mainly because the very thought was doing nothing as they’d both gone up the hard stone hallway of the castle. All that Mellie could bring herself to do, mainly as other thoughts raced around instead of the blood in her veins; clearly she was nervous about this situation and choose to be mute for the time being. Unless, of course she was directly spoken to. Once in the room, she curtsied upon being addressed by the princess, of whom she couldn’t remember her name. Something with a ‘B’ sounded correct, but Mellie didn’t want to start assuming things right off the bat. At least the princess seemed kind, like Merlin described and apparently tired. Perhaps this wasn’t the best time for her to have come in?

Her eyes went over to the woman, questionably but silent. Slumping against the door frame, she thought it was exhausting doing chores around her father’s village. She much rather deal with that. Though she would never tell Merlin that because he might fight her on the mere fact, he served Arthur. True, the prince was a hand full. So she could see where he came from, but still. At least he knew what was expected of him. She rather be a servant. Not a princess. Back at home, she could bury herself in a book. Now she had books about etiquette.

They were dull. Frankly, when she was reading last night, she fell asleep. How could anyone read anything of that nature? She would need to ask Arthur how he got through them. Closing the door, she turned to the servant. Having no idea what to ask for her, she just shuffled back to the table. The blasted book still laid open. “Mellie is it?” Glancing over to the female, she asked once more. “You can call me Belle. No need for lady or your highness. I’m just a person like everyone else.”

ashortdropandasuddenstop​:

“Bold of you to assume I’m fond of loss.. ” he snaped. Instantly that sword was colliding with the unknown pirate in black.  The clash of blade against blade. Norrington was broad and strong at that intimidating height of 6'1.   His skill with a blade only matched by William Turner.  He would not be a push over.

“By the looks of you, I would be throughly surprised otherwise.” The slightly taller man made the first strike and Westley was able to hold his guard without really much effort. When he had been taken prisoners by the pirates five years ago, he made it his duty to learn everything he could about fencing. So to say he was not ill-equipped was an understatement and probably could match both Mr. Turner and the Commodore. “My. Say good form.” Roberts said to him with a smirk. If he knew anything about the Dread Pirate Roberts, he would know he went after criminals and other pirate, not innocent people. 

I can't find it anymore, but there was a part going around that basically asked if you were trapped in a room with 3 men that you trusted, who would they be.

I finally found my answer.

It's these 3 absolutely wholesome morons and the one braincell they share.

@thelonewendwater asked for a starter.

"Land ho!" One crew member yelled after the storm calmed. What Roberts didn't know was he and his ship had went through something of a magic portal. The coordinates he was reading was off and so were the compasses. Nothing seemed right.

The land hovering near was their only hope of restocking the much needed supplies they needed. Ordering for his crew to dock, he waited until they got close enough to get a scout team together. Naturally, the captain would go with them. Maybe they would get the name of this mysterious land mass.

Abroad the small boat, he watched as his ship grew more distant. Westley was sitting at the end as the others rowed to the cliff side. There was a beach they could make their base as he and a few others would go venturing around.

Finally, they made it to land and his feet were firmly back on solid ground. There laid a worn sign near some rock stairs. Up above, he could see a compound of sorts. Wendale. He read. Interesting. It was not a place he had ever seen on his maps.

thelonewendwater​:

Foreign ships were a rarity around these parts. Being so high and farther up north from the popular ports was a blessing and also a curse. It meant that an attack by sea was unlikely but access to imported goods became more expensive when they had to travel even further to reach them. The storms had diverted ships to stay in the southern parts of Westeros which would obviously make things a lot harder to get, but that was okay as Wendale had stores to last them through long winters so a storm was nothing to worry about.

This storm was a longer and stronger one than expected, but Wendale held very well during the strong winds and rain. As it settled, the guards and people appeared from behind the safety of their doors to continue their day to day chores. Mariela too appeared upon the battlements to gauge the damage, if any, thar was caused by the storm.

Instead she saw the ship in the distance and the smaller boat coming towards the shore. She told several guards who were immediately were on red alert, some moved to the gate while others took their positions around the battlements. Mariela made her father aware before the two waited for news in the courtyard.

Sending a scout ahead to make it known they did not wish to engage in any hostile actions, Roberts stayed with his crew at the small beach. The wind hit him in his face. Thankful for his mask on his face, he put his arms on his hips waiting for them to make a crude camp. “Captain, what is Wind Ale?” Westley about put his gloved hand on his face. The older man could barely read, so he gave him that. Most of his crew were illiterate. Made for fewer questions, when he raided other pirates or criminals, they made their coin off of. “Does that mean they have ale?” Staring at him as he blinked, Roberts gave him a dumbfound look. “No. Smit, it says When - dale, not Wind Ale. It’s a place and not one on any map I have seen.” The other made an oh and then scratched his head. “Does that mean they have no ale?” Giving him a look, he shook his head. “No, Smit. They don’t have ale.” several of his crew whined, and he cast him a don’t argue gaze, causing them to quickly to go back to work. 

Wondering where his scout was, he tilted his head to look up at the stairs. It never took him this long. Wondering if he got into any trouble, he sighed. Westley might have to go after the lad. Waving at his crew, he told them to stay put. Climbing the steps up, he soon saw a castle looming over head. His hand steadied on his sword. One given to him by his friend. It aided him in many adventures. 

Coming closer, a guard yelled at him to stop. Holding both hands up, Westley didn’t give up his weapon. “I mean no harm. It’s just me and my men might be a little lost. Can you tell me exactly where this Wendale is? I’ve never seen it on any map.” He explained as one guard ran off to tell the owner.