OF HEAVEN

knights of seiros baldr. closed & affiliated with the officers academy.

[heavensook]

#heavensook: knights of seiros BALDR of 𝖋𝖎𝖗𝖊 𝖊𝖒𝖇𝖑𝖊𝖒: 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐄𝐒. closed & affiliated with THE OFFICERS ACADEMY. championed by byun.

baldr is taken almost immediately after the events of book 9, chapter 8 of fire emblem: heroes. after losing her father's favor, the young goddess flees zenith altogether. in a new land, she must learn to live with her newfound mortality and seeks out new purpose in fódlan.

my intention with writing baldr is exploring the idea of a god freshly made mortal (against her will) and coping with it. badly, probably. baldr is frankly pretty annoying because of this.

baldr is deeply embarrassed about losing her invulnerability and being cast aside by alfathor. she will lie about her identity, claiming to be a princess of some far-off country you've probably never heard off. if pressed about her origins though, baldr will fold like a deck of cards, admitting dramatically to her status as fallen divinity—whether you believe her or not. she will also claim her divinity if her ego is bruised.

book 9 is not yet completed so information about baldr is a little... subject to change... hopefully she doesn't die... i would be very mad...

credits. all artwork & graphics are official material or created by me unless stated otherwise mobile navigation. muse ✦ stats ✦ mun ✦ interview

[heavensook]

[ SWEET BUN TRIO ] - Three delicious, bite-sized buns from Faerghus. The first bun is filled with sweet cream and topped with icing and a candied cherry. The second is a sweet roll filled with almonds, pecans, and dried cranberries and glazed with honey. The third is a bun sliced in half, filled with almond paste and whipped cream, dusted with powdered sugar on top.

Wherever has his lady gone? The terms from which they parted from one another would set no piece of his heart to rest. Pushing through this crowd, scouring through another, the good butler whisks this way and that in search of a prominent head of wavy white hair. Only to find that—shortly before him—is one such kind.

"Lady Corrin, if I may have a word. I am under the impression that I offended you last time we spoke. If I may offer you this plate as condolence—oh!"

But Lady Corrin it is not. The waves are not waves but tightly wound ringlets. The shade of white is too stark to be hers. And, that snooty look. . .

"Apologies, my lady. I mistook you from behind for someone else." He is truly frazzled out of his mind; to make a mistake of such proportions. To mistake anyone for Corrin! "A token of my apology: please accept this flower of mine."

“Apologies indeed,” Baldr says waspishly as she whips around in all her glittery, golden glory, hand on her hip as she looks down her nose at the man who had just approached her and called her by someone else’s name. The nerve! There was none as beautiful as she—how could he have mistaken her for anyone else? What did this lady of his look like, she cannot help but wonder…

“Well, I suppose it can be forgiven this time,” she says, “as we do not seem to know each other. I am Baldr, of the knights. You’d best not forget it.”

She takes his proffered flower and though he is not offering them to her, Baldr reaches across and swipes one of the sweet buns on his plate, too.

[heavensook]

[ CHAOS ] - A dance that is difficult to define by virtue of its nature as a medley of popular dance moves across history that somehow come together to form an entertaining, if chaotic, whole.

Alfonse himself was not much of a dancer. He wasn't bad by any means-- he had been taught ballroom dances for formal events, after all-- but there were many who far outstripped his skills in that field. Without even taking into account the many professional dancers he knew were present, there were plenty of people who would be better than him. Was Baldr one of them, though?

It was a bit of a spiteful curiosity in a way that Alfonse would be too ashamed to admit aloud. Baldr so believed herself to be perfect when they had first met, after all. Were there areas that she lacked skill? He couldn't think of a reason for her to be a particularly skilled dancer, but he also could not think of a reason she would lack skill, either. If she were, in fact, a poor dancer, what would that do to her self-image? The curiosity was overwhelming Alfonse. He needed to find out.

"I hope you don't mind indulging me a dance," Alfonse greeted her, extending a hand and offering a polite smile. "It is only appropriate I dance with you as a show of good faith, no? We are no longer at odds, and we are both attending this ball, so I believe it would be rude of me not to offer."

Baldr’s face is perfectly cool, calm, and collected as the little Askran princeling approaches her, asking to dance.

She arches an imperious brow at Alfonse as he extends an offer to her. With a derisive sniff, she takes his hand and joins him upon the dance floor, where the other dancers whirl around them like waves on a stormy sea.

Baldr quickly realizes she hasn’t the slightest idea of how to dance. Her feet shuffle in place for a moment before she lurches along to the rhythm, taking furtive glances between Alfonse and the other dancers to get an idea of what to do.

She never danced. There was no use for it, not in her previous life. She must look rather ridiculous, hopping about as the music ebbed and flowed.

“I do not mind at all,” Baldr says regally, hoping that projecting the idea of composure would distract Alfonse from the fact she was trotting on her feet like a lame little mare. “You’ve retained your courtly lessons well, I see. In Ásgarðr, there was little use for such… frivolity, though gods are different than men.”

She stumbles and twists her ankle at an odd angle before promptly righting herself and hobbling along, smiling manically to prevent herself from wincing. “Ah—but… such frivolity is of no difficulty to me.”

[heavensook]

"You look stunning, Lady Baldr." She left a massive impression on Alcryst ever since the fought together in the arena. Alcryst offers one of his orchids with a smile. "How have you been?"

Baldr preens under Alcryst’s compliment, smiling winningly as he offers her one of his own flowers. She returns the favor by taking a hyacinth of her own off her dress and handing it over to him.

“Don’t I?” Baldr purrs, spinning to let her glittering skirt flutter about her legs. “You have quite the keen eye, Alcryst. I’ll remember that!”

A true friend indeed—she knew he’d seen her true brilliance, even if she had spent most of that arena face down on the ground.

[heavensook]

Ugh. UGH. Between the two of them, someone has to be the bigger woman. Someone has to be more mature, and in the end, Alear knows she was a fool about everything that happened. She should've just given her the damn lily and walked away, ignoring everything else that transpired-- but the past is the past, and she can do nothing about it. Which is why she has a plate with two sweet buns on it, both cream... and a lily that isn't crumpled and missing petals. ".... I.............................. I'm sorry." Oh, those words suck to say. But she is, because both of them shouldn't have ended up scuffling like that. Despite everything, Baldr's still helped her during battle, and she'd rather not be sworn enemies. "Can we call a truce? I don't want to fight anymore. I brought you one of these in case you wanted them, but if you don't, I'll find someone else who does."

Did she have to go and make everything so damn difficult?

Baldr had hoped that the punch bowl would be the end of it, that Alear would have gotten the message and stayed well and far away from her. No, instead, what does the great fool do? She seeks her out. With pastries, as if that could make up for her insolence!

Baldr eyes the sweet buns with a guarded look on her face, arms crossed tightly over her chest, lips pulled back in a tight sneer.

She sniffs, the tension easing out of her shoulders ever so slightly. At least she had the decency to acknowledge her wrongs.

“Well,” Baldr says, the words coming out of her in slow, choking bursts, “I suppose… I supposed I was… uncharitable to you. I should have… restrained myself better… knowing your… difficult nature and all.”

Delicately, she reaches out and plucks the lily from the tray. What a small, fragile thing, to have caused so much chaos between them.

“...thank you, Alear,” she manages to bite out, swiping the sweet bun. It smelled delectable, and she feels a rush of affection for the other woman, for her unwavering kindness even in the face of all their difficulties with each other. “I suppose we can rest our steel. For the night. I do not do this for you, mind, but it’s… it’s quite a nice night. Too nice a night to be fighting.”

[heavensook]

[ RECOVER ] or [ RESTORE ]

The white-haired woman had thoroughly brought the fight to an end, Sephiran thinks, though he isn't sure if her methods were one he agreed with. Nevertheless, he has no desire to mediate the fight, only to mend wounds and (thinking back to the pink-haired girl's masterful spellwork) undo certain ailments.

He waits until she seems calmer, at least on the surface. "Are you in need of healing?"

Baldr's head swivels towards the elegant man who'd approached her, a blithe smile on her face. She continued to clasp her spoil of war in a white knuckled fist, though most of the lilies have lost their petals by now.

"In need of healing?" she scoffs. "Do I look as though I am in need?"

She rolls her eyes, drawing herself up a little taller and puffing out her chest. "I am perfectly fine, th—"

She forces herself to cease. "...thank you," she says tersely, though it is not what she wanted to say. Perhaps she was being unkind; Alear seemed to bring out a special sort of wickedness in her.

"You are kind to offer, however," she says, her voice regaining its usual smugness. She studies his features, his dark hair and serene countenance. "I shall remember this kindness. I am Baldr, of—er, of the knights. And you might be...?"

[aliberation]

That worked? THAT WORKED. Alear's never felt so lucky in her entire LIFE since coming to Garreg Mach, and the pitiful wailing and warbling coming from Baldr evidently means she's struck gold. Her bouquet is discarded to the side as this so-called 'goddess' wiggles as if she's on fire-- but instead of backing off and retrieving the prize she's long since forgotten was the focal point of their battle.... she presses the attack. "Oh, NOW you beg? NOW you say please? Only when your hand is forced?!" The Divine Dragon hisses through clenched teeth, and when the other's back hits the 'wall' of their newfound little prison, she cackles. Like a mad witch who's perfected some sort of concoction, or a diabolical villain who's about to finally get their long-awaited revenge. And revenge is so, so sweet. Sweeter than anything she's tasted throughout this entire ball. "I want to hear you say SORRY. Say it, and I'll stop." An apology wouldn't solve everything that this woman has done to her, but it'll at least be a starting point. Alear never wanted to end up as enemies in the first place, but it seems like Baldr has had her own weird agenda this whole time. Her fingers resume their assault, this time across her ribs.

SAY IT. @heavensook

[heavensook]

“I yield!” Baldr shrieks, near instantaneously, hands held up in supplication in front of her. “I yield, I yield!”

Her breaths come in short, rapid bursts, chest heaving. She holds Alear’s gaze until the other woman drops her hands, conceding.

“I am sorry,” she croaks out, for good measure, since Alear had demanded it of her. She scoots back on her hands a bit, putting a bit more distance between them—if Alear wanted to try her tricks again, she’d have to lunge, and Baldr would be ready for her. Between them lay the bouquet of lilies, miraculously still in one piece even after the rampaging chaos.

Baldr looks at the bouquet, then back at Alear, then back at the bouquet.

“I am sorry,” Baldr says again, voice hoarse from all the shrieking and squealing and giggling. She rises, swaying, on unsteady feet. Takes another step back, hand finding the edge of the drink table (also trapped in the bubble with them) for support.

Looks at the bouquet. To Alear. To the bouquet. A silence stretches between them. It is so quiet in this little world of theirs. Peaceful, almost.

Her hand, the one clutching the edge of the table, slides backwards a bit. Baldr watches Alear intensely, gold and red eyes tracking wherever Alear’s blue and red ones went. They both had a red eye. Baldr hadn’t noticed that before. Alear did look quite pretty; some part of Baldr is almost sorry that she had so thoroughly ruined that perfect prettiness.

But the rest of Baldr is angry. Angry and humiliated. A dirty trick had brought her to heel, but Baldr had no intentions of letting Alear win, especially not like that.

Perhaps it was a dishonorable thing to do, but Alear had already struck a low blow—Baldr saw no quandary in going lower.

“I am sorry,” Baldr says once more, a true smile stealing across her face, as wide and tight as the one she had worn when Alear had nearly made her laugh to death, “that you are such a foolish, foolish girl.”

In one swift motion, Baldr grabs the punch bowl that had been right at the heel of her hand—filled to the brim with sparkling red drink, slices of citrus fruit, and a mountain of ice—and flings its contents at Alear, dousing her completely from head to toe.

With a great shriek of delight, Baldr swoops down, plucks the bouquet of yellow lilies from the floor before traipsing away.

She wishes she could laugh, but she thinks she is sick to death of laughter now—a shame, since this might’ve been the most fun she’d had in millenia.

THE END... (?)

[aliberation]

It sounds like a woman gone mad with the way Alear's high-pitched giggle comes upon seeing the ridiculous image of Baldr spitting petals out of her mouth-- but she doesn't have time to gloat over any of it before she's being flipped over and she feels her back against the cool surface of the floor. Her hands scrabble and desperately reach for the bouquet that's been pried from her fingers, and of course her arms aren't long enough. Think, Alear, THINK. Lumera never once raised a quitter and Sombron would've killed a quitter, SO! "You aren't going to KEEP it!"

She's at a physical disadvantage, but that's just fine. Baldr's right where she needs her-- at least, she thinks she is. It's still a gamble, but it's better than nothing. "AHA!" When her hands grab Baldr's sides, it's done with a deft motion that's aimed to disarm her in the most foul manner possible. An embarrassment, a shame-- a completely uncontrollable reaction that Alear hopes and prays will show. A tickle fight MASTERFULLY initiated, if she does say so herself. An unstoppable assault that aims for carefully calculated (not really) weaknesses up and down Baldr's sides, brows knit as she feels like a damn fool in the moment. WHAT IF THIS DOESN'T WORK? SHE'LL LOOK LIKE A PERVERT OR SOMETHING! "Give.... it..... BACK!"

@heavensook

[heavensook]

The sound that leaves Baldr’s mouth when the tips of Alear’s fingers dig into her sides is completely and utterly animalistic: part shriek, part laugh, part growl, part heave. Her spine goes rigid as she jolts; her body seems to move on its own, twisting and turning like a snake in the grass. Her breath catches in her throat, her eyes wide and fearful. She jerks to the left and then right, limbs locked tight. It is like being struck by lightning.

“St-st-st-st-st—” she gasps, a drinking down a great lungful of air. She can barely get a coherent word out, she’s still making that godsawful sound. She squeals like a stuck pig, her arms dropping as her hands fly to try to pry Alear’s probing fingers off of her, the bouquet of lillies wholly forgotten. 

“E—nough!” she manages to screech out. She is laughing—why is she laughing? This isn’t funny at all. No, quite the contrary, it hurt. What was Alear doing to her? Her chest feels tight and her head spins. Great peals of laughter spill forth from her lips stretched upwards in an unwilling smile. What is wrong with her? Blindly, she claws at Alear. “E—nough—! I—I—I—I—hehehe—haha—HUAHUHUAHUAHUAHUAHAUHA—” 

It hurt terribly to breathe. It hurt to laugh, and yet she could not stop. She could not control her limbs, her face, her voice. She tries to get away, clinging to her last remaining shred of sanity, her head pounding as she worked her best to clamber off of the madwoman.

“I—please—I—heh heh ah ah hah—I cannot—I cannot—” She keeps clawing. At Alear, at her hands, at anything she could reach. “End this torment, I be—e—e—g—!” 

She manages to scramble backwards, legs akimbo, and despairs as her back hits some invisible barrier. Wonderful, trapped with the lunatic. She is going to die in here!

[heavensook]

Whatever this is, she has no idea. She would not be surprised to learn it was some ridiculous mating ritual put on display. To her, it looks like two idiots doing all that they can to disrupt everyone around them. Under normal circumstances, she would not think of bothering to intervene in the foolishness of others.

However, they are ruining the atmosphere of the dance hall, and she knows quite a few friends who have their hearts set on a pleasant evening.

Mitama rolls a 17. Critical hit! Inflicts Silence and Void on targets.

The light of silence flashes bright over the two wrestling fools. Whether or not they hear her does not matter, but she is sick and tired. "Enough."

What sorcery is this, that Baldr can no longer hear the fierce melodic ring of her battle cries? No matter, she'll find the meddling interloper once she shows Alear the true might of the light of heaven—and now, at least, she need not hear Alear's squalling!

[aliberation]

"You- Let go of me! I'm TRYING, damn it--! You didn't--" Alear huffs, her bangs completely mussed and the blue strands of her hair sticking out in every direction. Thanks to this absolute oaf of a woman, she's going to have to take an extra trip to the restroom to fix who-knows-what... and still, despite it all, Baldr STILL has the audacity to go for that bouquet. STILL! "That's ENOUGH! I'm so tired of listening to your stupidly annoying voice! A stretch of her arm and a quick, desperate grab has her able to retrieve the bouquet. Glancing down at that infuriating expression, the first thing she can think to do is to shove said bouquet straight into Baldr's face, thwacking her on the head with it. And a second time, for good measure. "Do you ever have anything NICE to say?! Huh?" ... A third thwack. Hopefully, some of those lilies will go RIGHT into her mouth. "It's always Alear this, Alear that-- Alear can't do anything. Well, WATCH THIS." The flowers had been on Baldr's outfit, wasn't that right? Leaning back, dual-toned eyes scan over her body quickly before catching sight of one of those smushed little blooms... And she tries to pluck it, grinning. Granted, it's a little awkward with the fact that Baldr's trying to fling her off, but she can at least stay somewhat upright for the time being. "I'll just take one of these as a keepsake! You can settle for having NOTHING." (... She's yet to realize that there's a rather large crowd watching, some of them with hands over their open mouths.) @heavensook

[heavensook]

There were many great warriors in Ásgarðr, Baldr recalls distantly. Men of from ages of old who had died valiantly in battle, delivered to paradise for the gallantry and loyalty. Swordsmen, for that was the weapon of the noble and the just. Some part of her, detached from all this chaos, drifting up above the din, wonders what they’d think of the venerable sun goddess, sword of the All-Father, the noble and just Baldr, clawing and spitting and hissing at another woman like a wildcat.

The first insult was the screaming, shrill and incessant, at her, like Alear in all her hard-headed stubbornness had not been the one to send them down this barbaric road. The second is when Alear hits Baldr with the bouquet. Baldr makes some inhuman, bird-like noise—half squawk, half screech, all fury—nose scrunched up and eyes closed tight as the stems smack against her lovely face. The final insult is when Alear keeps doing it.

“Stop—” SMACK. “—that—” SMACK. “—this—” SMACK. “—blerrrrgh—!”

Baldr spits out a lily petal. She feels a tugging by her bosom as Alear makes a move for one of her flowers, gloating about how Baldr will have nothing to show for this farce save for some ripped seams and a wild head of hair. Baldr grabs Alear by the wrist and bodily shoves her off, reversing their positions as she slams Alear onto the ground beneath her—now, Baldr looms above her. She snatches up the bouquet and hits Alear with it, square in the center of her face.

“I’ll take your bouquet instead, I think!” Baldr declares boldly. She pins one of Alear’s hands down to the floor with her left hand, nails digging into the other woman’s soft skin, while her right holds the bouquet of lilies aloft. She must look wild, her eyes alight with a dizzying, manic light, but Baldr cannot find it within herself to care. Let them stare, she thinks, it is Alear who started this all! Alear and her refusals, her disrespect, her two left feet and her inelegance! “You can collect all the poor petals you’ve shaken off your flowers, you brute!”

[aliberation]

"Little rock?!" Elyos was nothing of the sort, and it's plain that this woman has no idea what she's talking about-- Alear's face scrunches into a scowl that rarely frequents her expressions, and she lets out a harsh bark of laughter as Baldr misses. Again. "And I never heard where the heck you're from! For all I know, you could be lying! It sounds like you are by the way you're describing this place, anyways. No details, no names... just anything to make yourself sound more-- more.... grandiose!" Ugh, whatever. If she wants to be ungrateful for any of the help Alear extended to her during their trip, it's fine. Unfortunately for herself, she'd save the other woman regardless of the reception of her actions. "I never said I was unsure. If anyone here isn't comfortable in their own skin, it's you. You have to TELL everyone how important you are, and how amazing you are-- they don't know it from the way you act!" The little hop is kinda funny. It does distract Alear for a moment as she lets out a laugh that sounds a hint more genuine than anything else she's given. Before she has a chance to really say much, however, Baldr's already grabbing her by the shoulders and trying to haul her down. "H-hey-- What are you-- Get off of me! What the hell?! Baldr! YOU-" If she were wearing her normal boots, maybe this would be easier. The presence of higher heels has her wobbling, though, and her hand reaches to catch herself on the edge of the nearby table-- But she misses. And the two of them flop straight onto the floor with a loud clatter, drawing the gazes of many... and Alear's bouquet flops pitifully near them as she lets out a yelp. It's unfortunate that she lands on top of the other, and her face lands in... Something soft. Something a little squishy. And warm! Inviting! But that's not what should be greeting her upon falling to the ground-

OH.

Sputtering and stammering, Alear sits back on Baldr's waist as her face burns hotter than any lava ever could. "YOU-- YOU ARE-- UGH! WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU?" @heavensook

[heavensook]

"And what would you know of my homeland?" Baldr asks derisively. She does not like how Alear is snickering at her. She sorely wishes she had brought Sun Sword so that she might've cut the bouquet in half and been done with the farce altogether. "I could speak true and you would not know anything of which I'd tell you! It's no use trying to tell you."

They teeter again, heels clipping and clopping like horse hooves, legs as steady as a newborn foal's before they both—by some folly of Alear's, Baldr is sure—go toppling to the ground in a squawking, undignified heap.

She grabs Alear by the shoulders once more with such force that her knuckles go white, pushing her as far back as she can at the awkward angle she is laying in.

"Wrong with me?" Baldr shrieks in reply, all sense of propriety loss in the sheer ridiculous embarrassment of the moment. She is as red as her left eye. "What is wrong with you, girl?! Twisting and writhing like an eel—if you had not been so stubborn and just given me a lily, would you—we—you are the most difficult, insufferable person I have ever had the displeasure of knowing!"

(Never mind that Baldr knew very few people; the denizens of Ásgarðr have always given Heaven's Judicator a wide berth, her sisters were lovely, and Heimdallr could be a mite taxing in her own right but Baldr had never minded her much...)

Her lovely golden gown has been hiked up her legs, a stitch or two popped and loosened by Baldr's wide-legged position. Her shoulders burned with the effort of holding Alear at an arm's length.

"Get up," Baldr hisses, trying to dislodge the other woman. Her hands drop from Alear's shoulders to her hips and under her thighs, her heeled shoes sliding uselessly along the tiled floor. "Get up, damn you, have you taken leave of your legs as well as your senses?"

A vision of yellow in the corner of Baldr's eye catches her attention—there, just out of reach, lay the bouquet of yellow lilies. For a moment, the woman sitting astride Baldr is forgotten; she keeps one hand on Alear so that she might not interfere while the other strains to reach for a flower, Baldr's body twisting as she twitched closer to grasping it...

[aliberation]

"I AM royalty, you know!" Oooh, that just makes her pivot out of the way of Baldr's nasty, grabby little hands-- because if she's going to come at Alear with fire, then it's a good thing she can return it! "I thought I told you that before? Do you ever listen, huh?!" That answer is obvious enough by the way that she doesn't give in to Alear's perfectly reasonable request, instead choosing to die on this hill of......... pride? Stubbornness? Why was she even like this?! "You and I fought together and if I REMEMBER right, I saved you on a few occasions." Another turn, the bouquet is now held high above her own head. She's silently thankful for the fact that her outfit gives her more range of motion versus Baldr's, and that does bring a hint of a smug smile to her face. Ha ha. "Besides, if you were better than me, you would've taken these from me by now. I was going to be NICE and give you some companionship, but I see I'm mistaken now! Fine! If you want the lily, come and take it from me!"

@heavensook

[heavensook]

Baldr scoffs. "Princess of some sparse and barren little rock, I'm sure."

It would not matter to Baldr one whit if Alear was from a beautiful and prosperous kingdom, in actuality. She would not even care if Alear were empress of all the earth—Baldr is the princess of heaven! (Was, really. Soon to be again, she tells herself.)

"I am the princess of a great, powerful land," she says smugly, swiping for the bouquet once more. She totters and teeters forward and for a moment she thinks she might fall but she staggers upright and stays standing. "A beautiful land, a large land, a powerful land—far greater and far more spectacular than anything you could have ever even seen, let alone begin to imagine."

Her mind wanders, for the briefest of moments, to Ásgarðr. Oh, Ásgarðr, the Celestial Realm, her beautiful citadel in the sky, the font from which all nine realms were poured and shaped from. Ásgarðr, the final rest of the exceptional, of the worthy, of heroes, of joy. She thinks of the endless blue sky, the lush rolling greens, the great woods, the white marble spires. Her father ruled there, Father-of-All, Maker of Man and First of the Gods—she was his sword, his most faithful sword, sharp and sure—til he cast her out for her own folly.

"And? What of the one or two times you extended your favor to me?" Baldr asks waspishly. "I never asked for your aid, and I am sure I never needed it! Unsure of yourself, are you? Need me to sing your praises, soothe your ego? Shall I rub your feet next?"

Baldr gives a valiant little hop. She does not jump very high. Oh, what she would give to float up and snatch the whole damned thing from Alear...

She seizes Alear by the shoulders and tries to pull the other woman down, so that she might reach the flowers easier. She stumbles forward, hip knocking into a refreshments table and sending the plates rattling. "You are making this so difficult for no discernible reason, you wretched girl!"

[aliberation]

heavensook asked: Baldr purses her lips when she finds Alear. The girl was hard to miss, really, with her ridiculously colored hair and her dress that matched, cut so short it fluttered about her thighs. Baldr harrumphs, brow arched. Inwardly, she seethed just a mite about how the dress really did suit her and her stupid hair. "...Alear," she says shortly, two-toned eyes dragging over the other woman from head to heels. "You look... as I had expected, truth be told. Not as plain as I might have thought, though I cannot say I am... impressed. Of course, I am not easily wowed as you might be." She points at the bouquet of lilies clasped in Alear's hand. "Give me one of your lilies, and I shall deign to give you one of my hyacinths. Hurry now, there is more of this 'ball' I want to see."

Oh, gods, not this again.

The voice already gives her a headache long before she turns, brow twitching as Alear tries her hardest to offer a smile. It doesn't look anything like her usual bright demeanor, though; it's far too pained and lopsided for it to be genuine. Either way, the pokes and prods at her appearance are dismissed for the most part. "Well, if I've surprised you by not being so plain, then I guess I'll count that as a win in my book." The huff that follows is involuntary, and she does briefly remember the satisfaction of tossing that incorrigible woman into the depths of the well. Better times, which is saying something, because Jugdral was awful. "Not even a please? Don't you have manners if you're the royalty you claim to be?!" She's snappier there, holding her bouquet out of reach with her lower lip jutting in a disapproving frown. "I'll take you to see more of the ball ONLY if you're nice. And if you ASK nicely!" @heavensook

[heavensook]

Did Alear think her some sort of lost child who needed to be led about by her nose?! The arrogance of her is enough to make a vein in Baldr's forehead twitch.

"Royalty only need exchange courtesies with those alike in status," Baldr snaps, reaching forward to snatch a flower from Alear's bouquet. "And last I knew, we were no equals, Alear."

She swipes at the lilies, but the childish girl keeps them just out of her grasp, and the tight gown constricting her steps was doing her no favors.

"I have been nice to you enough," Baldr says tersely, "I offered you one of my own flowers, did I not? And they are on my gown, so I daresay I am giving up more than you. Cease this silliness and give me a lily now—and I do not recall inviting you along with me to see more of the ball!"

[heavensook]

Of course, Baldr had to shine bright enough to near blind everyone else at the ball. She clothed herself as mortal ladies did, in a gown, but hers clung close to her body, molded to her figure like armor. The fabric shimmered like water, so golden it might have been the sun itself woven into cloth-of-gold. It was low cut, leaving her shoulders bare. Thin little threads wrapped around her neck to secure the dress to her. Her sleeves were long and hung off her upper arms, the ends of them rasping against the floor and fluttering in her wake as she walked. The tops of the sleeves were adorned with plum colored hyacinths, colored for her sister. She wore no jewelry, for the only ornament she truly desired was her brilliant halo that had been so rudely taken from her.

Her fingers drummed at her waist; she sorely missed the presence of Sun Sword hanging at her side. This ball was a new sort of battlefield to Baldr, and she hadn't the slightest idea of what to expect from it...

tracker ...

ROSE(S):

ORCHID(S):

LILY(IES):

HYACINTH(S):

TULIP(S):

[heavensook]

MARCH: PASSED

SKILL POINTS. 9 → 10

bow d+ → c (4)

INVENTORY AND MASTERIES.

CLOSE COUNTER (tbc)

COMPLETED THREADS.

N/A.

[heavensook]

I'm counting on you...‎ ‎ Reliable allies...‎ ‎ Heart-racing memories...‎ ‎

"You're one of the newer knights, yes?" Diamant sets his teacup down, "I've heard a bit about it."

To be a part of the knights meant that the woman must have had some level of physical—or even magical—prowess. Of course, this only stoked his own warrior spirit with a deep curiosity.

"What fighting styles have you been trained in?" It is faint, but there's a spark of interest in his eye. "As a fellow warrior, I'm sure you've had a number of exciting battles in the past, hm?"

“Hm? Oh, yes, I am.”

Baldr is still acclimatizing herself to that title. Knight. It seems so awfully plain in comparison to her other monikers—Sun-Saint, Holy Justiciar, Sun God, among other things. Inwardly, she sighs. To say she misses such self-aggrandizing is a terrible understatement.

She manages a smile. “I? Well, I am most adept with the sword. My bladework is unparalleled—I am a god on the battlefield with a sword in hand. …not to say I am not skilled elsewhere! I do not think you will ever meet a better soldier than I.”

[heavensook]

STUPID? ...OR IS IT SLOW?

[ulirblood]

"huh?" priestess blinks, turning her head to look at the man that had called out to her. as soon as he had her attention he took her hand in his and planted a chaste kiss against the top of her oh so delicate hand.

edain blanches immediately. she hadn't been 'on the market' as some would say for quite some time, so to say she shows utterly no interest would be an understatement.

"has anyone told you that you are like the sun?" yes, plenty when she was young. she opens her mouth to speak her disdain for such surface compliments when another woman barges back into the conversation.

the man freezes, turning to baldr. "now now, my sweet. is there not room for two beautiful ladies to outshine the sun? haha..." he laughs nervously.

"are you courting each other?" edain frowns, glancing between the two of them. while he offered honeyed words he wasn't anything pleasant to look at— and he seemed to switch attention to someone else so easily.

while this woman was— well, she was gorgeous. it was almost as if a crusader had descended back onto this earth. she deserved a man whole lot better than an utter fool like this one. "... you should find a better man than this one, if his heart is stolen by another so easily."

[heavensook]

The man turns back to Baldr with that half-sincere, sleazy smile that promises everything and guarantees nothing.

“Two?” Baldr barks. “You had swore to the sun, moon, and stars that I was the only one who would compare!”

The tips of her ears burn red in her embarrassment. She pivots on her heel, chewing the inside of her cheek. Loathe as she is to admit it, the other very beautiful woman is right. Someone with true devotion in their heart would not have his attention stolen so easily by… other worldly pleasures.

But Baldr is not so humble as to admit to that.

She turns back around. “So you admit to it then? That you had been plotting to steal his attention from me?” She turns her nose up at her with a huff. “Why, the nerve of you…! You should find your own devotees to charm with your… wiles.”