🌸 紫式部

"She puts on irritation like a winter kimono."Independent, semi-selective roleplay blog for Lady Murasaki from Hannibal Rising.Timezone is GMT. Please read rules before interacting.

[roleplayermemes]

“The Golden Compass” sentence starters

“You cannot change what you are, only what you do.”

“That is the duty of the old, to be anxious on the behalf of the young. And the duty of the young is to scorn the anxiety of the old.”

“You are so young, too young to understand this, but I shall tell you anyway and you’ll understand it later.”

“When a little boy is growing, he thinks he is immortal.”

“Each time becomes more painful, until finally your heart is broken.”

“You speak of destiny as if it was fixed.”  

“We are all subject to the fates.  But we must act as if we are not, or die of despair.”  

“When he’d sworn at her and been sworn at in return, they became great friends.”  

“All good things pass away.”

“Human beings can’t see anything without wanting to destroy it.”

“I’m going to destroy it.”

“Death is going to die.”

“Being a practiced liar doesn’t mean you have a powerful imagination. Many good liars have no imagination at all; it’s that which gives their lies such wide-eyed conviction.”  

“Death will sweep through all the worlds; it will be the triumph of despair, forever.”

“When you live for many hundreds of years, you know that every opportunity will come again.”  

“If a coin comes down heads, that means that the possibility of its coming down tails has collapsed. Until that moment the two possibilities were equal.”

“If there is war to be fought, we don’t consider cost one of the factors in deciding whether or not it is right to fight.”

“ What would it matter if you did?”  

“When you choose one way out of many, all the ways you don’t take are snuffed out like candles, as if they’d never existed.”

“One moment several things are possible, the next moment only one happens, and the rest don’t exist.”

“We feel cold, but we don’t mind it.”

“Men pass in front of our eyes like butterflies, creatures of a brief season.  We love them; they are brave, proud, beautiful, and clever; and they die almost at once”  

“It doesn’t work like that.”

“What’s happening is that the Shadows are responding to the attention you pay them.”  

“I didn’t have anything in mind, and you well know it.”

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fourthdragcn:

Their union isn’t official yet and she’s already stepping firmly on her cautious wife role. She’s a mix of fiery character and cultivated patience and education, a mix he probably will have issues to deal with in a couple of times but nothing they can’t overcome as long as their hearts remain true to each other. Her voice is clear on her opinions and she’s used to be as free as she can given the circumstances. In a couple of days, though, a new life will spread itself in front of her very own eyes and with such, new responsibilities will arise. 

“Your Majesty has little to argument against this union. I’m the least useful of his sons, so I see no motive for him to refuse.” 

Lies. He can see many. Having royal blood is the main cause. For what? Who knows, because it really has given him nothing more than grief and pain all these years. But the Fourth Prince is ready. He’s always been, for everything. And now, that premise is more real than ever. 

When almond shaped eyes move to his thin lips, the young man’s Adam’s apple bobs up and down as he knows what he must and wants to do but also needs to restrain himself from going too far. 

“I guess I’m safe in assuming you won’t back up when facing certain danger.”

Moving from her own mouth to her nose and eyes and back to petal lips, Wang So observes her back; the boy who, without realizing, gave his whole heart in the shape of a pendant to a little girl. The distance shortens, the darkness invades the woman’s visage as he approaches and the sharpest eyes in Goryeo, always alert, decide to close as they move closer and closer…

“It was WATER. WATER, UNDERSTAND?!”

The loud voice is followed by shushing and pleas for the Tenth Prince to keep it low while his Thirteenth brother carries him with the aid of one of their servants. Two maidens fan the drunk Prince as they carry him to the quarters they share with their Fourth brother.

“You’re both no fun. Where’s So? So! Let’s drink some more… SO!!”

At his name, the young man steps in front of his future wife to conceal her figure just in case they approach and steps backward to keep her in the shadows. In this state, if Eun discovers that he’s courting Murasaki, he’ll go straight to merrily inform their father in his inebriated joy, and this is a matter that must be taken seriously if he wants to succeed. Once he considers a safe distance, the prince quickly turns around to cup her cheeks with both palms and whispers, low enough for her alone to hear. 

“Go now. Quietly.” 

Without further explanation, the warrior releases the lady and returns his attention to his family members. He takes a few steps away from her before speaking in order to prevent them to go any further. With slow steps and a gesture of his hand, So finally appears in front of the other princes, suggesting them to retreat to their private rooms.

“I can smell the sake from here. Go inside before the cherry blossoms wither with your poisonous breath, Eun.”

An approaching kiss, yet so rudely interrupted, never arriving upon ready lips; it’s a tragedy, and one she takes bitterly. Why must it be that things will not go her way? Why, after being separated for so many years, can they not spend such time alone without others coming between them? Their time together lying on the grass had been interrupted similarly, partway through an honest conversation which had been soothing a young girl’s mind. Conversing about family, bravery, hope... talking freely.

      Eyes which had closed in the moment of sweet tension now flicker open again, glancing towards the trees  ( and suddenly she is released from her intended’s embrace, much too early ). Though, she recognises his reasons and respects them utterly in that moment, being no longer held by So gives Murasaki a feeling of emptiness she has not felt for a while. It’s a brief, yet intense pull of loss.

     Once again, they get a hurried goodbye. All of theirs have been so far, have they not? It is barely a farewell, but the lady has to just accept it... storing that frustration deep down inside, where it will no doubt continue to bother her throughout the night. When will she see him next? How will they act, what will happen with their plans? Murasaki has to assume that her father will hear of this soon enough, and include her in the discussion  ( as well as her brother, who no doubt will be particularly shocked, especially considering her irritable treatment of the prince in the last few days ).

     Staying silent, then, she nods in reply. Then, quickly but stepping quietly, and with only one glance back... she’s gone, disappearing into the shadows. It’s lucky that she knows the area well enough to find her way out, without being caught or held as suspect; without further trouble, she reaches her home.

     Nobody else has returned yet... they are slower to drink than the younger prince had been, and so there are only the household staff to greet her. This is more than fine by Murasaki. There are too many thoughts buzzing hectically around her head to bother with substantial conversation, and so she heads along to her room and allows others to help her from her intricate formal kimono.

     Once alone, the lady collapses onto her bedding, and stares at the ceiling. Her gaze follows the timber. This feeling is different... didn’t she feel almost this way after leaving Goryeo? But now it’s deeper, more certain. Her hand rises to brush fingertips over her lips     then she sighs, turning over and gripping that hand at her chest. She could hope to have good dreams, if she manages to sleep at all.

[murascki-blog]

takes a seat beside her.

     the lady glances aside to the newcomer, taking in her decadent outfit with sparkling gaze. when she speaks, it’s comfortably in their native tongue. ❝ such a fine kimono... it’s a rare joy to see, nowadays. ❞

[alyannaxxx]

[murascki-blog]

fourthdragcn:

It does feel like the missing match. This new sensation of her body against his, her warmth combined with hers is pure bliss and this is probably what real, true, honest happiness feels like. Not a crown, or a thousand men army, or all the gold in the world. The one to fill that empty space beside you. She is obviously moved by his request and there’s some relief when she agrees to it. At her question, the Prince clears his throat and blinks, looking away. 

“Who said I was done courting you?”

It’s ridiculous really because both are deep into each other to the point of probably not wanting this night to end ever but he does understand what she means. She knows what’s to come and he’ll have to be his pillar to survive the trials to come until they are officially husband and wife. 

So’s long fingers brush two long black strands away from her oval face and keep a firm gaze on her dark irises. 

“Tomorrow morning I’ll inform my father of my decision to take you as my wife. Afterwards, I’ll write the official proposal to offer to your father before we can give the news to the Emperor.”

Inform. That’s all. The only one he’ll ask for permission is Murasaki’s father. The rest make no dent on his determination to make her his. 

It’s interesting that he looks away, and Murasaki takes pleasure in analysing all of his movements now. In a different situation, he is no longer as cocky as he was. It’s the same, almost, as the shift she’d witnessed as children     her tears had altered his treatment of her back then, and brought them closer. As it is now, she’s far from tears, but technically they’re still post-argument. But it’s nice...

     His gaze soon meets her own once more, and the lady holds it, steadily. ❝ Sometimes I like a man who knows what he wants... and won’t let others stop him from getting it, ❞  if the target is willing, at least; his doggedness when she was more unwilling, on the other hand... ❝ But I recognise the risks you might face with your father. At least phrase your ‘informing’ amicably... I would like it best if he were to look kindly on it. I have no doubt there’ll be no trouble from my own, or the emperor. ❞

     Honestly, this is feeling strange. To be planning marriage..? Whoever knew this would be the case? In Murasaki’s own mind, she’d given up on this idea long ago     such things hadn’t been of interest to her, even with her sister pestering about it. Yet now, just the idea has an effect on her that she can’t describe.

     Now she takes more time to glance properly over his face, the direction of her eyes lingering on his sharp jaw, and the curve of his lips. ❝ Perhaps, if the courtship isn’t over... I shouldn’t be standing this close to you. ❞  The lady has no intention of stepping away, not for anyone  ( she’d stay like this till the sun came up if she could ), but the words come out silkily, and playful. ❝ Such things are improper. ❞

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fourthdragcn:

The palm on the back of her head remains still. It’s not the need of protection but rather to have her close after so many years of being apart. The Prince inhales in the scent of her willowy hair and her graceful frame is lightly pressed against his the moment he wraps his arm a little tighter around her waist. There are no eyes around to call him out as improper with the Fujiwara lady and this is something he needed. The contact. The weight. The presence. 

Her voice noticeably drops when she answers and the reasoning behind her action is logic. She could have told Takako he was a monster for not replying back and to not trust men like him in the future but something pushed her to do otherwise. Perhaps it was a young girl’s dream of a happy ending. One he could not assure at that point. 

“You chose to bear with the weight of the lie.”

His lips move against her forehead as he speaks, words softly spoken as his warm breath caresses her skin. If she’s indeed, as he expects, listening to his heartbeats, she’ll probably guess that he’s moved by the entire situation. The drumming in his chest speeds up every moment he gets to finally openly speak with her without pretense and there’s nothing else he wishes right now than to make her his. Completely his. 

“I want to pay my respects to her tomorrow, if you’d allow me to.”

It’s a debt he owes the little girl for being his beloved’s strength when he wasn’t there, for keeping his memory alive even if it was a bittersweet one. Not to mention that he must speak with the patriarch of the family tomorrow with the first lights of the day about their engagement. 

And his own father. Ah. 

It’s becoming a habit for them to hide from others in order to express their true feelings; it’s how they’d started off, and now how they’re going back to the past. It’s unusual for her to feel as if it’s okay to say what she wants to, and the mere fact he’d allowed her criticism of his sister without scolding is representative of how they can act together. Escaping the stiffness of propriety, revealing their true selves. A true self to those of high status is like another burdensome lie to bear.

       Maybe, now that they’ve ended up so close to one another, both lies can be lifted from Murasaki’s shoulders. After all, this is what her younger sister was hoping to happen. Had she been lying on her death bed, filled with wild ideas that the older would one day be protected by the foreign prince?

      ❝ We can go together. ❞  A soft tone is all that’s needed in the closeness, as her arms slip up to join around the back of his shoulders. She’s content just leaning there... any chill there could be in the air is forgotten against him, in his embrace. Nevertheless, after a few moments she pulls back a little to look up at his face, though still unwilling to break free from his hold and this spell she’s been brought under.

      The lady’s features are  ( perhaps surprisingly ) calm.  ❝ What happens next..? I’m sure you’re putting yourself in a terribly difficult position if you intend to court me, ouji-sama. ❞  But of course, the courting is complete     the glint in her eye makes that obvious. But the question is genuine, and the comment, too; for a lady to marry a prince is a great honour for the lady’s family, yet it is clear that So’s situation is complex. He should be marrying a princess, or at least a high-ranking lady of Goryeo.

     Of course, the heart wants what it wants; she just wonders if King Taejo is the type of man to see that. She hasn’t actually spoken to him personally, but that doesn’t mean she hasn’t heard tales around the court. 

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fourthdragcn:

Female rivalry is normal, and especially between future in-laws but Yeon Hwa is a whole different category in that matter. She doesn’t belong to the normal canon and he knows the onnabugeisha is right but he can’t speak ill about the only member of his family who had the decency of saying that she was glad he was back when he returned to Goryeo. Still, if she lays a finger on his bride, tables will be turned. Who knows. 

“She’s far from foolish. But she won’t represent an issue.”

Hopefully.

He knew little of his sister in his childhood and the following encounters they had were brief and filled with bitterness from his end. As a result, he didn’t have the energy or mental capacity to study Yeon Hwa enough to get to know all her quirks and the potential lethal traps she can set to her enemies. Ah, enemies. Is Murasaki one now? 

Best keep an eye on the matter from a safe distance. 

The new name is very present, even if they haven’t gotten to speak of it since he arrived to the island. The girl might be gone, but her presence is evidently strong in the woman’s spirit and heart and that’s perhaps a ghost that will chase until her final day. The way she fondly remembers her speaks loads of it. 

“Scared? Ha, even adults were afraid of me back then. Still are.”

The plan is to let some moments pass in silence to change subject but it does seem like it wouldn’t be the best alternative. The lady perhaps would like her sister to approve of him from the afterlife, as a sign of warm, lovely protection. 

“She asked about me? And what lies did you fill her with?”

Hearing of him talk about those who fear him, the Lady is reminded again of how little she does. Truth be told, she hasn’t feared So since they first met  ( and that fear had only been because she felt she might get in trouble )... now she moves, and leans her head lightly against his chest and shoulder, listening to his heartbeat in the dark. Not scary, only very human, and rather damaged... but he is excellent with weaponry, and brave, both of which are things an onnabugeisha can really appreciate. 

      She continues to rest there, the fabric against her cheek and the scent of him so comforting to her; smells of home, mixed with him. Just how had she managed to avoid him for so long? Oh, that’s how... along with making her feel safe and fluttery inside, he can also be so very irritating when he wants to be.

                           It’s all by the by, now...

     Yet when that figure of her sister is pushed again into her mind, Murasaki has to hesitate with her response. The truth... or a lie? Which should she answer with? While Takako resides in her mind, she can’t very well tell a lie, and anyway, it’s a bad start to any relationship. Still, the truthful answer may be awkward.

     Lips tighten, eyes close  ( can he even see her? ).   ❝ I told her you replied to me. I couldn’t keep her waiting or disappoint her; she had been made too hopeful by the gift you gave me when we left Goryeo. ❞

     The lady can see her clearly now, the excitable face of a young Takako, begging more and more information that truthfully Murasaki couldn’t give to her. Excuse after excuse... but even without much feeding, her sister had built up a fantasy in her own mind. Guess it was only natural     Takako was more than aware of her position even at that age, and so she was waiting to see an example of courtship through her older sister. It was her duty to show that to her imouto, to test the waters for her.

     In the end, she hadn’t needed to anyway... but these lies sting her eyes and tighten the back of her throat to think about. She swallows, keeping lids lowered.    ❝ I don’t know if I should have told her the truth, or I actually chose the right option. I suppose... by this point, it doesn’t really matter all that much. ❞

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fourthdragcn:

The surreal situation of having her arms around him is, to say the least, quite surprising but does not hold himself back anymore. Especially now that they are alone, away from prying eyes or at least, less exposed considering they are in the Emperor’s home. 

“Are you considering me a hunter for women? That was a low hit, my lady.” His eyes narrow just a bit as the faint smiling towards her continues. It seems like maintaining a stoic expression won’t do with her at all, so what’s the use? 

Yes, she’s closer to the little girl he met those years ago but there’s no effort in recognizing the newest additions to the memories he had of her. She’s precisely the way he imagined she’d be and not for a single second could she deceive him to believe that she’d have turned into a ‘proper’ and silent court lady as every one would expect. She might be one, but the fire inside her cannot be tamed. Not by his family, the Emperor or himself even. And that’s quite alright. A woman like this is the kind that makes life worth living.

Ah, so she’s been visiting his beloved.

So’s eyes move to Murasaki’s forehead, to the birth line of her night colored hair to focus on something else. 

“Even if she wasn’t raised as less than an animal in Shinju, she’s also a prisoner.” She might understand his words, but still, the Prince continues. “Being a princess is a torture. She is a survivor, and… growing in my family, she could only learn how to grow sharp claws and a steely armor. She believes we’re the same, hence why she has grown fonder of me than my brothers.” The young man’s gaze returns to her to reassure her of his following words. “But I know where my heart belongs. Though…” A frown, pursed lips and a clear amused grin. “Keep your arrows away from her direction, if possible.”

Ah, the inevitable defence of a family member     Murasaki can’t very well blame him for it, though she has some choice thoughts about the princess herself.  ❝We are all prisoners, in our own ways. People must learn to survive no matter what their position, though often the higher we climb, the more we need to bare our teeth. ❞  An eyebrow quirks.  ❝ But that does not excuse that she approached me looking for a fight, not the other way around. She was out of order, no matter what her status is, compared to mine. ❞  After all, Yeon Hwa is a princess of Goryeo... yet they’re in Japanese territory, now.  ❝ Before training to win a battle, she should have learnt how best to choose one. ❞

       The lady remains outspoken as always, at least in secret. She feels no hint of threat coming from the prince, though even if she did, it would be out of respect for her family and not out of fear that she might hold her tongue. Might. On occasion, she has found that there’s no holding her thoughts back.

      ❝ I shall keep my arrows away from her... as it is your wish, and probably the wish of everyone else. I can’t promise to hold back my words altogether, though, if she dares challenge my connection to you again, as she did. ❞  Mature eyes sparkle a little with playfulness.  ❝ Since we are very much connected by now. At least my family approves of such a match. My father speaks well of you, already. ❞  

     After avoiding him for so long, it’s... good to be close to him. To feel his sturdiness beneath both of her hands, to inhale the memories of their first meeting.  ❝ As a child, I was captivated by the bow you were using... now only to be captivated by you. Life has a strange way of developing. ❞  She smiles a little, almost wistful as she delves into her mind.  ❝ Takako asked about you often. She was scared of you when you took me away, but then... she developed to be a bit of a romantic, in spirit. ❞

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fourthdragcn:

An embrace. 

He hasn’t received one since he was five or so, before his mother decided to mark him for life. And a woman’s arms around him are part of a picture he’d never imagined he could see in this life. Sincere, gentle arms that seek for his warmth, for his existence. But it’s all too fast and his ears probably catch up on the murmur nearby. Still, he does not react to it until she openly speaks about leaving. 

“Come.”

If they catch them together in this situation, the first accusation will fall on her for the mere fact that she’s a woman and that he’s a prince. Even if it’s obvious that he positively replies to her advances, no good will come out of something like this if he hasn’t talked with her father yet. Shame, dishonor. No. This is real, this is for both, for something they’ve wanted since they mere strangers. It must be properly delivered but that doesn’t mean that they can’t both be greedy tonight. 

The Prince takes her wrist and pulls her to follow him through the gardens. There’s a spot he’s seen earlier today he has liked quite a lot and it might conceal their figures for a little while. And right beside one of the largest tachibana trees he’s seen, the couple finds refuge by the pond. 

He takes his moment to observe her face in detail. One palm on her back and the other on the back of her head to keep the elusive lady in place just in case she decides to change her mind. Elegant eyes then are fixed on the black irises that have been trying to trick him since he stepped on the island. 

       “I’m not brave.” 

With the utmost care, So’s index traces a line down her jaw to curl and lift her chin lightly towards him. 

                    “I’m in love.” 

He leads, she follows; such a shift in their interactions, since now she does not hold back, but follows along easily. They both need to get out of sight, and she’s unwilling to leave So just yet. As he says... they have a lot of making up to do for their lost time. This is reminiscent of their meeting, in fact; hurrying away into gardens for some privacy, yet now as adults, without that same youthful innocence.

                    Without the same pure intentions?

          After a short walk they come to a halt again, and Murasaki has barely had time to glance around at the pond, the trees, before she’s taken in his grasp once more. She doesn’t complain. Only listening to his smooth voice, admiring the features she’s been avoiding looking at the whole time he’s been in Japan so far. Those lips as they move, and the curve of almond eye. All is viewed in a new light, with fresh clarity.

          At his words, the lady finds herself laughing. Not a common sound, her genuine laugh, and eyes light up as they gaze up towards him.   ❝ Love... foolishness... are they not the same thing? ❞   Her arms, free and restless, rise up -- hands run slender fingers up his chest to his shoulders, returning the hold he has on her.   ❝ Both may have led you to be here with me, at least. A wise man may have aimed for something more easily attainable. Michiko, perhaps. ❞   Of course, she has not forgotten his exhibit with the Japanese court lady a few days prior.   ❝ Even now, so many years on... you’re still a baka-ouji? ❞

          There’s a cheekiness to her smile, now. That girl she’d once been had been locked away, but now, with him, she resurfaces. Just a little. Just enough to remind both of them what they used to have, or still have.

          ❝ I suppose a wiser woman wouldn’t be willing to face your sister. She’s rather possessive... so I hear. ❞   Or so she’d pretty much heard from Yeon Hwa’s own lips. Contemplating, Murasaki raises hand to trace fingertips along that shoulder, her gaze now following the movement.   ❝ Should I be worried, hmm..? ❞

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goremade:

‘     not  lost ,       ‘        the  long  winter  of  hannibal’s  heart  is  growing  still ,     the  Long  Night  itself  not  without  its  charms  in  the  least:    HE SPEAKS OF THIS SEMIDETACHED  &  FRAYED AT THE SEAMS.    the  bite  of  the  recollection  is  little  more  than  an  itch  at  his  spine ,        a  swollen  throb  he  finds  pleasant  and  exhausting  all  at  once .              ‘      I  was  HOME ,     milady .     not  among  friends  but  surely  I  was  home ,    nonetheless.     ‘   the  six - digit  hand  is  most  gentle  with  what  his  Uncle  has  left  behind ,      a  demure  gaze  caught  between  her  and  the  art  he  holds  so  gently  in  his  palms .     she ,     the  slight  curve  of  tired  eyes  and  desolate  shoulders ,     she  reminds  him  of  his  mother  somehow .     DIFFERENT ,    QUITE  DIFFERENT .    but  a  squeeze  at  his  heart  anyway .      hannibal  does  not  hesitate  to  steal  the  page  away  until  nothing  remains  and  another  page  has  turned ,     only  then  does  he  rearrange  his  lithe  limbs  until  they  sit  across  from  one  another  silently  once  more .      he  longs  to  witness  the  parts  of  her  he  has  not  yet  seen ,    taste  the  dripping  rot  of  her  sadness  where  his  Dearest  Uncle  cannot   reach  anymore . all  mention  of  the  girl  now  woman  was  left  with  the  turn  of  the  page ,     both  Robert  and  Chiyoh  a  chapter  now  closed  and  too  far  for  any  reach  to  truly  bring  back  the  joy  either  once  wrought .   the  lecter  boy  turns  his  head  and  simply  does  not  give  her  any  retort ,     only  reaches  for  the  implement  and  puts  pencil  to  pad  in  haste .     he  did  not  need  to  look  upon  the  Lady  to  bring  her  likeness  to  life  in  a  way  Robert  could  not ,      though  life  does  lack  in  the  passion   the  man  himself  once  had .    hannibal’s  hand  is  precise ,     sharp .      the  dark  between  her  legs  is  hidden  by  a  thigh ,    although  nothing  is  to  be  hid  when  he  simply  neglects  the  silks  covering  her  supple  breasts  where  they  hide  now .      the  boy  takes  gentle  care  of  the  melancholic  expression ,      the  soft  wisps  of  raven  hair  tumbling  down  past  her  chin.

Just as it was with Robert, witnessing the drawing method of Hannibal is fascinating. Different, though -- just as she is not the young Count’s mother, similarly Hannibal is not her late husband. She can see that in everything he does, a constant reminder of what Hannibal isn’t. Robert would have continued to encourage passion in his nephew, but Murasaki knows that same passion would never exist in the boy;  NO,  he has a different drive in him, a different flair but by no means less exciting.

          The scratch of pencil against paper is quick, as quick as she is to notice that he is not truly using her as a reference anymore. Her  HUSBAND  would have looked upon her many a time during the creation of his works   ( perhaps a few were self-indulgent glances rather than ones of reference ), but Hannibal does not. He seems deeply involved with whatever piece he is creating -- sat across from him, the Lady cannot see the pencil strokes coming together, and forming a  LIFE  on the page.

          Maybe his memory really is that good. Or maybe he’s creating something non-realistic, taking some artistic license with his shapes. Has he chosen to draw something else entirely?   ( She knows well that would not be the case ).   She is a  MUSE,  her form begging to be recorded in sketchbook and on canvas.

          Calm hands resting in her lap, the Lady waits patiently for the movements of that pencil to slow, and eventually finish altogether. It’s only then she speaks, having known better than to interrupt the workings of an  ARTIST  with then-unnecessary words.   ❝ We have discussed the past. What thoughts have you had of the future, Hannibal? ❞   The gentlest of smiles appears, almost coy.   ❝ Or, perhaps you have had none? ❞   She provides a way out of her question, though she’s sure he would’ve found his own, if he’d wished to.  

[murascki-blog]

fourthdragcn:

Her reply is more than satisfying but at the same time, something hits his core. The fact that she’s been waiting for a reply all these years is heartbreaking and also good, as selfish as it might sound like. The Fourth Prince, the one that should simply disappear according to his own mother, cherished so much by someone after so many years. The wetness of her tear reaches his palm and the young man frowns before his thumb moves to brush the traces off her cheek. 

“The decision will always be yours.” 

He is certainly crazy or very much in love to say such thing. Women don’t have a say truly on political marriages and providing her the possibility to reject him on her own will is certainly different. But if what she says is true, then she’s right, she has no choice if she has accepted him. 

More than just ‘accepted’ him. 

So chuckles and looks down at his garments, so much work to please her father, indeed. And it worked but he will be genuinely confused tomorrow when he approaches to the Fujiwara patriarch to ask for his daughter’s hand in marriage. 

“My father is difficult to read. I’ll talk to him but I don’t need his approval.” 

Since leaving Shinju, he has become more bold on the way he manages his own terms in regards of his freedom. He is tied to royal blood but that doesn’t mean that his feet are chained. His father owes him a great deal for saving his favorite son. 

“There’s no such thing as a proper lady for a proper prince for me. And considering that we are neither, I believe we are in perfect conditions to take back the time that was stolen from us.” 

His free hand moves then to cover the other cheek and slowly, the young warrior leans closer to press his thin lips on her forehead. But he pauses to a halt at mid-way; this is new and he must be careful. There were some women before but they were empty bodies. Void of what he was truly searching for: her. 

It’s very nerve-wracking. Things are changing so quickly, and one thing Murasaki knows is fragile around the courts is reputation. She has spent so much time alone, and determined to remain that way. She’s also been showing so much irritation towards him   ( genuinely, she might add ), that to suddenly show a change of heart is... well, it would make that reputation she’s spent so many years to build shatter. No doubt there would be gossip. There probably already is, since word spreads fast, and you never know what little birds are hiding in the bushes. She’d say she doesn’t care what others say about her, but it’d be a lie. It would reflect on her family. Murasaki doesn’t want that.

          Right now though, in the dark, at the steps to his chambers... let it not matter, just for now. Just for tonight.   ❝ My decision was made years ago. ❞

          She steps forward, a smooth movement to close the gap between them, arms wrapping around him. All her past anger and sadness is being targeted in this conversation, and it makes her feel weak; she just needs to be close to him, more so than she’s allowed herself to be at any point since they met. And how many times has the Lady dreamt of this exact moment, since childhood? Plenty. 

          So she allows him to bring his lips to her forehead, the contact making her skin tingle beneath his affectionate touch. It’s not worth thinking about the last time she let herself be given such a genuine feeling of care, of love; it’s too long ago, at least.

         ❝ You must be a brave man, to decide you don’t need your king’s approval for a match. ❞   Her head tilts and she can rest it to So’s shoulder.   ❝ Though bravery and foolishness often get mistaken for one another... you’ve certainly shown a lot of whichever one it is since arriving here, haven’t you..? ❞

          If he thinks she’s going to become vastly toned-down now that they’ve come to this point, he’s sorely mistaken. Her personality is what it is... yet now the words are said with humour, rather than spat in a moment of coldness and temper.   ❝ We should go somewhere... just for a few hours. Somewhere more private. This place, it’s too... ❞   ... precarious.Her voice trails off as she hears footsteps somewhere nearby, then the sound of two ladies chattering about the feast they happen to be missing out on.

          It’s tempting to jump away from him at that moment, lest they get spotted   ( a scandalous night-time embrace, out in the open? )... maybe she still should, but instead she just loosens the grip her arms have around him.   ❝ ... time to go? ❞

[quidprcquo]

      ❝ We begin by COVETING what we see every day.                           Don’t you feel eyes moving over                                        your body, Clarice?                              And don’t your eyes seek out                                     the things you want?❞

             Independent || Semi Selective || Book & Film Based Dr. Hannibal Lecter

{ amazing graphic by @lordtaketh }

[murascki-blog]

fourthdragcn:

She won’t believe him or rather, she simply cannot get a grasp of the real situation.  How could she? The Lady never had to be pushed aside as if she was a monster and sent as a toy to keep an enemy entertained and on his toes to prevent disturbance in the kingdom’s peace. 

“If I replied, what good was I back then, anyways? I was imprisoned, held as a war trophy by my father’s enemy, an object. Would you rather have me sending you letters and feeding your heart with illusions of something that could never be? Make you foolishly believe that I was worth anything?” A pause, and the prince dangerously narrows his eyes just a bit. “Or would you rather have me here in the flesh, after forging my way out of their claws forever?”

It wasn’t easy to convince his father. Thankfully, the request was granted after saving the Crown Prince’s head during the cleansing of the spirits ritual. The Mad Dog, no, the Prince So, finally returned to the palace, to his rightful position, despite the disgust of most of his family members. 

“As a prince, as the son of a monarch…”

The distance closes inch by inch as his hand moves up towards her face. 

              “…as a warrior, a childhood friend…”

And his warm palm finally connects with her sun-kissed cheek, moonlight caressing the surface through the shadows of the trees surrounding them. 

                             “…as a man. Will you accept me now?”

It’s her turn to listen, finally getting something of an explanation for the prince’s years of absence. It’s taken long enough. Gaps of Murasaki's life are being filled in after so long of waiting for these answers, and she can begin to see the fuller picture of why he had never written back to her. But why had he not told her this before? They’ve had days for this, but so far those days have only been filled with teasing words.

          Taken in by his reassurances and reasoning, there's no way she'll move back as he draws ever nearer. Their gazes connected, both unwavering, souls now bared more to each other than they ever have been -- even more than they were as youngsters. Even in those days they'd remained secretive with each other. How much can you tell to a person you've just met, after all?

          ❝ I wouldn't have minded; your status was unimportant to me. ❞ Still is, in a way   ( though after seeing the display in Goryeo she had never assumed him to be anything less than a true warrior prince ); his being royalty has nothing to do with her   ( cold and buried )   affection for him. No, it was the way they'd managed to speak on each other's level, more freely than with others, sitting on the grass. The innocence of youth. Two of the higher-class yet oppressed, finding common ground.   ❝ I would have accepted you no matter what. I wanted to. How could you not have known that..? ❞

          To her displeasure Murasaki can tell that tears are gathering in her eyes. She stands stiffly, unwilling to move away, afraid to do anything else, altogether too unpractised with such situations. Real feelings hang between them. That alone is a terrifying thought. 

          ❝ I have no choice. ❞   Leaning a little into his hand, she briefly closes her eyes; a tear courses lightly down one of her cheeks. Even now, after all her hard work... still he manages to make her cry. Though this time, it's very different.   ❝ The decision is not mine; already I've accepted you. ❞   Her heart beats strongly in her chest with desire for him, all of him, whatever he comes to her with. It’s only now that she’s coming out of her own denial, the anger that had locked her away in it calming and leaving her free.

          ❝ My father seems supportive of... this. I can’t help but feel that yours may be less so? I am-- ❞   she hesitates   ( uncharacteristically, perhaps ).   ❝ ... maybe I am not the sort of lady a prince should be with. I suppose you know that already. ❞   Her temper is too hot, her stubbornness too strong, her will too free. So would have to know exactly what he was getting himself into, and luckily he’s had more than enough of a taste by now.

[murascki-blog]

fourthdragcn:

The feminine eyes on him don’t affect him. He’s gotten used to ignore the rest of the world’s attention because it’s always been filled with amusement at the disturbing use of his mask. Which lead to a harsh temper which only drove others away. Much has been polished since Murasaki entering his life and it all still feels odd to him. Not to mention complicated to assimilate. So bows at Tametoki and draws the best smile, although faint, at his brother-in-law when he finally speaks. 

“I’m unsure if my presence’s worth a feast, but I’m glad you believe so.” 

He’s a coward escaping his land. That’s how he sees himself and secretly, no one will change this thought. No matter how many words of appreciation he directs to the hosts, he’ll always be a traitor and not family. Even if he technically is now. 

He wears a Prince’s crown. A heavy one. 

There’s a palanquin for his wife and horses for the men, escorting her to the Fujiwara estate, which is, indeed, impressive. There are some similarities with Goryeo’s architecture and style but he’s not interested in making these comparisons now. He’s fine, but she’s tired or at least that’s what she said. He’s more than sure that she’ll have words with her husband. 

As they are guided to their chamber, the servants bow respectfully without making eye contact with him. They’ve been well trained before his arrival, because this is simply not the way they’d behave with their Lord and his family. He’ll have his saying in this. He might be Taejo’s son and proudly carries his blood but he’s just another man here. The young man looks around at the small altar with a flower arrangement and a holder for his swords. Two, because that’s the Japanese way. He’ll leave it there, but will carry two knives with him. It’s really difficult to walk around unarmed. Especially if he doesn’t belong to this land and he’s more than sure that Yo might send assassins that will cross the sea to kill him. 

Not now. Soon, perhaps. 

“Home.” He repeats the words he uttered when they arrived at the port. So turns to face the Lady with a small smile. “I don’t want anything else but seeing you happy here.” 

It is strange to be home. After all, this is no longer where she lives, and she’s grown used to Goryeo while married to Wang So -- this place is alien to her, now. Still the same as when she left, largely, but with small changes which make her realise that she’s missed a lot more than she’s seeing (sons are usually lucky in this respect, as their wives move in with them, and they rarely leave the familiarity of their original homes for an extended period of time). Not the son she’s married to, though...

          She’d moved away from him upon entering the room, looking at the art decorating the shōji, settling back into this place, this life. Now that he speaks and her thoughts connect, she regrets putting any distance between them -- but with a reassuring smile Murasaki glances over, and gives a small nod.   ❝ Things will undoubtedly be easier here, but not exactly easy. It is a different kind of pressure here, perhaps. We are certainly more protected. ❞   A shrug follows before she moves back to his side, taking his forearm in both of her elegant hands.   ❝ And you? Of course I would like to see you feel comfortable here, at least as much as you can. You’ll let me know if you need anything, yes? ❞   His Japanese is good, but perhaps may need a native for some things.

          The claim of tiredness was not a complete falsehood. They’ve travelled rather far, but she has energy still to spend later at the event planned to welcome both of them. For now, they have time to themselves to do... whatever they wish, truly. Though, she’d like to visit the estate’s shrine to ancestors and pay her respects sometime soon -- with So, or alone. It wouldn’t matter all that much which. 

          Murasaki glances around the room. Compared to Goryeo, the room is so very meagerly dressed. No table, chairs; wooden floors, with tatami set aside for sleeping. Everything is bare. But this is the way in Japan, currently, and not just for stoic samurai -- and despite it having been what she’d been raised to know, there’s something in the lady that wishes for the comforts of Goryeo. She’s become spoilt, she supposes.

          Soon, will they be taking Goryeo's royal bedroom..? It’s difficult to decide which is better. Over here they must always live carefully while Jeongjong remains in power, and in this minimalist state. If So manages to take Goryeo, they’ll have luxuries surpassing what is to be found here, but with a constant threat level; plus many distractions from each other. Head filled with thoughts, she leans lightly against his arm. Still tense.

          ❝ I hope you will not feel inconvenienced here. It is only temporary. ❞

[murascki-blog]

fourthdragcn:

“The torture…”

Flames envelope his heart as his fists clench in fury but at the same time, this passion comes from somewhere else. It’s frustration and the disgusting sensation of the incapability of fixing branches of a tree that grew crooked from its birth. So yes, the root was the problem and now it’s too late. 

Unless you start a new tree from the original one. 

The prince’s eyes move to her hand as she tears down her necklace and his lips part slightly at the sight. So she has kept it. More importantly, she’s wearing it after all these years and in his presence. The meaning of such action can only lead to think that she does appreciate him, that for her, he was a kind memory from her childhood. But now, doing it right in front of his very own eyes, even after his teasing and… mixed signals. Yes, that’s what he has given her despite trying to be bold about it. 

“I may return to Goryeo, but I can’t go back to the innocence of our first meeting.”

So takes a few steps forward slowly. Hasty actions might push her away, like a scared sparrow afraid of a human as they approach to pet them, even if the intentions are good. But once he’s close enough and she hasn’t moved from her spot, the Fourth Prince reaches out for the jade pendant to gently take it from her hand. He examines it with a certain melancholic look only he knows how to paint on dark irises before he can speak again. 

“So foolish.”

It takes him inhuman strength to raise his gaze to meet hers in moonlight illuminated entrance of his residence. She is a goddess, and no one will ever deny him that. There are a few things in this life one must see before dying and one of them is the moon reflected in her long hair. 

“Keeping this has been pointless if I couldn’t let you know how much thinking about what kind of woman you would to grow to be, has kept me alive.”

Is it her own stubbornness and strength which keeps her rooted to the spot? It may just be tiredness -- she’s close to giving up on this venture completely (perhaps she already  HAS  done, with the taking off of the necklace being the final straw) yet what has she got to lose, now? Murasaki knows he won’t do anything to her -- and if he did, he’d learn his lesson fairly quickly, whether by her own hand or the hand of any number of samurai who could be patrolling at this time in the darkness of night. Him being a prince would  NOT  stand against the importance of maintaining her honour.

      And so, she allows him to approach.

          The necklace is released into his hold, and she too can’t (doesn’t want to) bring herself to look at him with such little space now between them. Strange.. so little physical space, yet such a large emotional valley.

      It’s her turn to scoff at his words.   ❝ You have a funny way of showing it, ❞   she responds, coldly.   ❝ And I’m sorry to disappoint. I can only imagine what sort of  ETHEREAL  being you may have been expecting when you came over here. ❞   Her tone shows that she is, in reality, not in the least bit apologetic.

      Now those dark eyes meet his, and she pins him in that gaze.   ❝ I never asked you for  ANYTHING.  Not in any letter I ever wrote did I request anything from you. How many ladies send princes such honest communication, I wonder? Not once did I ask for jewels, silks, trinkets from a mystical land, or a piece of poetry I could use to prove to the other girls yes, here it is -- my poem sent from a Prince of Goryeo. ❞   A frown begins to form, and now she’s got started she can’t stop herself.

      ❝ I just wanted a reply. Just one, to prove that I wasn’t alone in how I felt. That whatever connection we’d had as children was not make-believe. ❞   A hesitation.   ❝ I waited for  SO LONG.  After all the years I waited -- but not a word. My hopefulness dwindled, I wanted to forget. Until you showed up, ❞   the lady’s expression hardens with irritability,   ❝ and decided I was worth your ‘attention’ again. ❞

[murascki-blog]

fourthdragcn:

It’s a feast held by the Emperor and as such, food, sake and even soju that was brought in their honor runs free. The music and the dance stop from time to time but it’s nearly constant as they want to please their guests as much as possible. Ginsaengs are more lively, Geishas instead are perhaps too delicate for his tastes. 

The memory of the stubborn and proud Lady comes to mind, when they met a few days ago in her homeland, at the practice field. She has grown beautifully, no doubt. What sparked his interest in his young days as a delightful, lively and enthralling child is now a fascinating woman. The Prince shakes those thoughts off, because it has all come to an end now. Nothing will be said or done further. The smallest amount of worth he had is now gone. His father doesn’t want him for anything related truly to politics except show him as a trophy of his relations to Shinju. Feeling suffocated by the consuming thoughts and the overall exposition he has had on the court so far, So makes a deep reverence to both kings before exiting to his chambers, to change clothes and wander in the night, stargazing or looking into the deepness of the night as he does when he wants to disappear. 

A familiar figure, though, is waiting at the entrance. 

So, she wants revenge. 

His demeanor has changed. From the fairly charming and seductive prince she once knew, the good old Fourth Prince has returned from his days with the Kangs. His visage shows a rigid expression, narrowed eyes, furrowed brow and shoulders tight at the sight. He pauses in front of her for a moment and looks away with a scoff. 

“Should I endure the torture of seeing you again or may I have your permission to move on with my life?”

Footsteps. The figure of So appears through the gloom, yet when her eyes rise to his face, it isn’t the same as the one she knows. Not really. The eyes that laugh at her aren’t there -- they’re tightened, and  SERIOUS.  Well, good. Maybe if he’s being serious the resulting conversation may actually get them somewhere. That’s what Murasaki hopes... it’s the reason she’s been waiting here for so long.

      Yet with his reaction, these hopes are swiftly dashed. Despite her tiredness and melancholy, her heart reacts with the same fury she’s been feeling towards him for the past couple of days.  WHY  had she been waiting for him at all? She should have known he would ruin her plans -- and when they’re so close to coming to fruition, too. She wants answers, even an apology. Looks like she’s not going to be getting either of those tonight (in part because she cannot help but react with fire in return).

      The lady stands, HAUGHTINESS back in full. 

          ❝ You speak of torture? Who has been in my line of vision constantly from almost the exact moment he and his family arrived in Japan? Taunting and teasing as if we’re still just little children. And now you call  THIS  torture? Is this unfair of me? So difficult to endure, your Highness? How strange that a man can follow a woman around like they’re attached one minute, then want her out of his sight the next -- but I know better than to disobey a  ROYAL ORDER,  which I assume this is. ❞

      She pushes past him to walk off in a huff, but thinking of another rebuke turns once again.   ❝ This is my homeland. If you want no chance of seeing me, maybe you should return to your own -- and  STAY  there. ❞

      Murasaki’s elegant yet strong hand reaches up to her neck, drawing the jade pendant out from beneath her kimono and tugging it harshly. The chain snaps. As it unwinds and falls away from her skin, it feels uncomfortably  BARE,  so unused to being free from the weight of the metal. It’s been worn there for so many years, through so much... and as she’d thought, it had all just been a pretence.

[murascki-blog]

a drabble for @fourthdragcn

As a figure stands in the hazy heat, shadow cast diagonally behind her, the  CICADAS  chirping around create a summer symphony. Long dark hair tied back, and clothed in traditional training gear, the lady narrows her eyes at a target across the yard. She exhales, slowly. Fingers bend around a  BOWSTRING.  She raises her arms, shifts her weight, aligns the arrow as she draws back the string and—

          「 Your stance is wrong. 」

Murasaki’s jaw clenches. Is her irritation obvious from afar? Maybe, maybe not – but even if it isn’t visible, she’s got no doubt her critic will know  EXACTLY  what reaction the criticism will have had. 

      Bow lowers, and she glances down at her feet, shifting them on the ground into a different formation. Now she focuses again at the  TARGET,  raising arms once more and bringing the weapon up so she can see directly down the arrow shaft to where it will be heading.

      Her fingertips tremble, and she prepares to—

          「 And again. 」

      Okay, that’s it. The lady turns 90° where she stands, gaze locking on the man seated on steps, observing her training session. Arrow remains drawn, and her lips purse (it would be so  EASY,  though she wouldn’t – they both know that). Her target stands with a deep laugh, straightening his kimono and beginning to walk  CASUALLY  over. Hands are by his side, but open in gesture.   「 Go on, then? No matter how many times I tell you, you never get your stance right. Put me out of my misery. I’m begging you. 」

      Even when walking towards the tip of her arrow he’s teasing her; nobody else would  DARE,  not even her own brother. So has always treated her differently, though.

      After a roll of her eyes, Murasaki lowers her bow.

      ❝ A waste of arrows... and the target is too big to show any  SKILL  by hitting it. ❞   That’s her, giving up the conflict. It’s usually easier this way... the prince has a lot of stamina to spend on taunting his wife.   ❝ Though if you turn and try to run away, maybe I’ll be tempted by the  CHALLENGE? ❞

      Their words could cut each other... but that’s how they  LIKE  it, isn’t it?

      「 This is the last time I’m going to do this. 」   He reaches her, and kneels, grabbing her ankles and pushing her feet into position. It’s very reminiscent of the first time they met as adults... but now, Murasaki has more  TRICKS  up her sleeve. Oh, she’ll act like the fine woman her father needs her to be in public, but there’s nobody around now to judge her behaviour – when So looks up at her from kneeling, he’ll meet her  GLINTING  eyes with his own. Her lips hint at amusement.

      「 ... You did this on purpose just to get me on my knees again, didn’t you? 」