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@mycsotis
#MYCSOTIS an independent && unaffiliated canon-divergent multimuse from various media. established in twenty - fifteen, remade in twenty - eighteen. written by ava, she/her, low activity 18+
affiliated with ⸻ @lumoire
♡ ⇢ carrd
a person's birth is supposed to be a joyous occasion; much of her childhoods celebrations did just that. another year of being in good health, happy and well. yet now many years after birthdays have long since lost their meaning and have been replaced with a perpetual existential dread did it finally dawn on saya.
it was comfort.
it was easy to consider things worse than they were or that perhaps she was too young to already be exhausted. it was better now, surely. being surrounded by friends who doted on her or antagonized her ( hopefully in jest but it still rattled her ) for another birthday as they chattered away in pairs of two, three, and six.
she presses the balls of her palm to her eyes to try and quell the welling tears; careful to avoid smudging her makeup. especially as they gathered to watch as she blew out the candles to cheers and pats on the head.
happy birthday saya.
“I do not have the time for tears.” from percy :) — @lumoire | x.
while in argument, saya will claim that she is not easily brought to tears anymore - she is still quite sensitive. there are pressures that weigh on her; the expectations of a life she chose, yes, but not one that she finds happiness in. the whispers - she does not do enough for her husband nor her country. a woman who married only for status; taking advantage of the prince who simply cannot be tied down.
none of those whispers were true, she'd wail. none of it. yet, why does she feel as though they were ? was she really taking advantage ? love conquers all is the mantra she clung dearly to. with her partner's love, she can do anything. even do things she does not like doing.
right ?
except have the life she actually wanted.
much like a wounded animal, she finds herself in front of perceval's study. a delicate hand raises and pauses. a heartbeat thrums in her ears and her vision shakes momentarily. working up the courage, she raps on the large, ornate wooden door. she hears some rustling, then ' enter. '
pushing open the door that is much heavier, much taller than her, she peeks her head in before the rest of the body follows. it shuts with a heavy click. the study itself is dotted with dark furniture, dark woods and gold. near the end of the room, perceval sits in an ornate chair, pouring over some document at his desk.
he only acknowledges her when she gets closer, peering at her face. " what happened ? " a momentary pause. his expression twists slightly before any words come out, as if he already deduced what was bothering her to begin with. nothing she ever cried about was ever worth it - but she always went to the most immediate person she could think of for comfort. back then perceval would comfort the tears by listening, wiping them, and restraining his sarcasm. she was sure he was tired of it, yet admittedly she liked that he would calm her down before she embarrassed herself more. she could rely on him to help with the emotional burden of the depth of her insecurities.
“ I do not have the time for tears. ” he says. she watches his eyes go back down to the papers that are scattered across the desk.
the tears that were running down her face pause. the makeup she meticulously put on that morning leave streaks down flushed cheeks, giving her a more horrid look. something unbecoming for the wife of a prince. her blood runs a bit cold. " w-what...? " saya creaks, her ears are failing her. questions and concerns fill the pit of her stomach. anxiety creeps up the spine as she tries to speak up. " p-percy... "
" go wipe your face, do not bother me with something insignificant like this again. " his words are harsh. maybe harsher than needed, but she is a grown woman and not a child. he's angry - at her ? at the situation ? yet she obeys, leaving the room before fresh tears fall. their marriage has deteriorated for awhile now, she knows, but it never struck her until his callousness was finally directed at her. defeated, she shrinks back into their shared bedroom.
GEORGE R.R MARTIN'S FIRE AND BLOOD QUOTES. all sentences here were taken from the book fire and blood which in part was adapted to hbo's house of the dragon. change pronouns, names and location as you see fit. warning for some foul language and mentions of inc*st.
“Then the storm broke, and the dragons danced.”
“A ruler needs a good head and a true heart, a cock is not essential.”
“Words are wind, but wind can fan a fire.”
“My father and my uncle fought words with steel and flame. We shall fight words with words, and put out the fires before they start.”
“The seeds of war are oft planted during times of peace.”
“Only you could have won me away from the sea. I came back from the ends of the earth for you.”
“The Iron Throne will go to the man who has the strength to seize it.”
“I fed my last husband to my dragon. If you make me take another, I may eat him myself.”
“Let no man think that the fire of the Targaryens did not burn in his veins.”
“We are as the gods made us. Strong and weak, good and bad, cruel and kind, heroic and selfish. Know that if you would rule over the kingdom of men.”
“This is a night for song and sin and drink, for come the morrow, the virtuous and the vile burn together.”
“Thrones are won with swords, not quills. Spill blood, not ink.”
“Such a fierce little thing she is, she has no need of comfort. They are wrong in that, I fear. All men need comfort.”
“When the gods are silent, lords and kings will make themselves heard.”
“I do not have the time for tears.”
“Pride goes before a fall.”
“It is always winter now.”
“I will not fight you, nor will I kneel to you. Dorne has no king. Tell your brother that.”
“But we will come again, Princess, and the next time we shall come with fire and blood.”
“Surely the Mother Above loved my children more. She took so many of them away from me.”
“The tradition amongst the Targaryens had always been to marry kin to kin. Wedding brother to sister was thought to be ideal. Failing that, a girl might wed an uncle, a cousin, or a nephew, a boy a cousin, aunt, or niece.”
“ This practice went back to Old Valyria, where it was common amongst many of the ancient families, particularly those who bred and rode dragons.”
“The blood of the dragon must remain pure, the wisdom went. ”
“Familiarity is the father of acceptance.”
“Brother, you need never kneel to me again. We shall rule this realm together, you and I.”
“All men are sinners.”
“You rose up in rebellion against your lawful queen and helped drive her from this city to her death.”
“We came here to be free of Old Valyria, and your Targaryens are Valyrian to the bone.”
“They practiced blood magic and other dark arts as well, delving deep into the earth for secrets best left buried and twisting the flesh of beasts and men to fashion monstrous and unnatural chimeras. For there sins the gods in their wroth struck them down.”
“She has such a tender heart. Give me time, and I will find a lord to cherish her.”
“Not every Targaryen needs to wield a sword and ride a dragon.”
“I would sooner she wed a lord, but if she prefers a hedge knight or a merchant or Pate the Pig Boy, I am past the point of caring, so long as she picks someone.”
“If she wants I can find a hundred men and line them up before her naked, and she can pick the one she likes.”
“I'll have no songs about how brave you died, Kingmaker. There's tens o'thousands dead on your account.”
“Who can presume to know the heart of a dragon?”
“The Red Keep has its secrets, known only to the dead.”
“He bound the land together, and made of seven kingdoms, one.”
“Sixteen Targaryens followed Aegon the Dragon to the Iron Throne, before the dynasty was at last toppled in Robert’s Rebellion. “
“Dorne has danced with dragons before, I would sooner sleep with scorpions.”
“Winter’s here. Time for us to go. No better way to die than sword in hand.”
“The High Septon was the true king of Westeros, in all but name.”
“I will leave the making of law to you, brother, I would sooner make sons.”
“And with his death, the war of ravens and envoys and marriage pacts came to an end, and the war of fire and blood began in earnest.”
“Paying coin to the usurper is proof of naught but treason.”
“Poison was regarded as a coward’s weapon, and lacking in honor.”
“For both the blacks and the greens, blood called to blood for vengeance.”
“It was a good time, a golden autumn, a time of peace and plenty. But winter was coming.”
“The confidence of youth counts for little against the cunning of age.”
“Thankfully I proved too small for the wolf to notice.”
“Such stories make for charming songs, but poor history.”
“Why be a lord when you can be a king?”
“Only the gods truly know the hearts of men, and women are full as strange.”
“Whatever her powers, it would seem Daemon Targaryen was immune to them, for little is heard of this supposed sorceress whilst the prince held Harrenhal.”
“They called themselves the Winter Wolves.”
“We have come to die for the dragon queen.”
“Under the terms of the pact, the prince’s firstborn daughter would be sent north at the age of seven, to be fostered at Winterfell until such time as she was old enough to marry Lord Cregan’s heir.”
“For the rank and file of the City Watch still loved Daemon Targaryen, the Prince of the City who had commanded them of old.”
“We are done with writing letters.”
“The North was too remote to be of much import in the fight.”
“The Dance of the Dragons is the flowery name bestowed upon the savage internecine struggle for the Iron Throne of Westeros fought between two rival branches of House Targaryen during the years 129 to 131 AC.”
“His mount was blood-red Caraxes, fiercest of all the young dragons in the Dragonpit.”
“The bells began to ring on the tenth day of the third moon of 129 AC, tolling the end of a reign.”
“These happy bastards were said to have been “born of dragonseed,” and in time became known simply as “seeds.”
“House Tyrell would take no part in this struggle.”
“For all the vaunted strength of its walls, King’s Landing fell in less than a day.”
“This is a night for song and sin and drink, for come the morrow, the virtuous and the vile burn together.”
“How many came to see the crowning remains a matter of dispute.”
“This we do know: Cregan Stark and Jacaerys Velaryon reached an accord, and signed and sealed the agreement that Grand Maester Munkun calls “the Pact of Ice and Fire” in his True Telling.”
“Here I have you to myself, day and night,when we go back, I shall be fortunate to snatch an hour with you, for every man in Westeros will want a piece of you."
“I have the dragon’s bastard in me.”
✉ ⸻ ROYAL ROMANCE AND SPICE send by, @mycsotis
thought you didn’t like red hair (miriam and delmar)
a low chuckle escapes delmar's lips, filled with mirth and laced with unshaken confidence. ❝ ask any sailor if they're fond of red hair and they'll all tell you the same thing: no. ❞ for it is considered an ill omen at sea that stirs the wrath of the sea herself. perhaps mere superstition, but sailors are a breed who seldom tempt the fates without a cause. yet even as he spoke of these age-old fears, delmar despite his own respect for certain maritime traditions, had always walked the fine line between the beliefs of old and his unshakable pragmatism.
he regarded her then, lifting his glass with deliberate grace, the deep crimson of the wine catching the flicker of the lantern light. ❝ as for me, i find red hair rather ... captivating. ❞
her scoff was but unmistakable, accompanied by the question of whether red had suddenly become his favorite color. ❝ no, ❞ he murmured, as he took a slow sip of his wine. ❝ it's blue, actually. ❞ he lingered, savoring the moment before his next words followed, laced with a flirtation. ❝ but red ? red might just be growing on me. ❞
she scoffs again, mostly at the flirtation than the words itself. " of course it is. it's my hair color. " a rest of her elbow on the oakwood table that separated them, cradling her chin. for once, miriam is thoughtful. much unlike the plebians that surround her - sans mila, the sweet girl - delmar brought out a side of her that were long thought to be dead.
callous woman; red-haired devil; femme fatale; whatever she had been called in the past. he lacked the same judgment and he was not bothered by her. the thought crossed her mind: she wanted to kill him. wholeheartedly. these affections are dangerous and more women have been undone by less from a mere man. such as the little one with the bow. unlike her, she will not be made a mockery of.
saying as much, it only earns a laugh from the sailor and a reassurance that it is meant to be a positive thing to receive such a compliment.
" flattery, as much as it strokes my ego, goes nowhere. "
it did not surprise him that mila and saya had been exchanging letters. though their friendship did not blossom instantly, it became evident to anyone who had traveled with them that a lifelong bond had been forged. ❝ it's been a long while since we all last saw one another, ❞ he remarked, a touch of nostalgia coloring his tone. with the notable exception of clara, who still occasionally visited for her necromancy lesson, their reunions had grown infrequent. clara's visits were often a source of tension, and saya preferred to keep her distance when clara was around. the two did not get along. perceval, however, found the dynamic between his student and his beloved rather amusing.
eventually, he nodded, a thoughtful expression crossing his face ❝ it will be good to see them again, both of them. ❞ out of everyone, mila and luka were the ones who made the effort to maintain connections with those they had met on their journeys. occasionally, perceval and mila would exchange letters as well, though their correspondence lacked the frequency of saya and mila's missives. ❝ and to hear the progress that has been made. ❞ he continued. luka, after all, had taken on the monumental task of righting past wrongs and providing greater protection for demons, striving to mend a centuries-old feud. quite the endeavor for one burdened with the mantle of 'the future of the nation'.
at the question if he thinks they would settle down properly before they would visit them. ❝ well, as far as i know luka is thinking of proposing, although i am surprised he hasn't already. ❞ the pair complemented each other so well that it was no surprise to anyone that marriage was on the horizon for them. ❝ as for everything else ? ❞ he mused, a slight shrug accompanying his words. ❝ i am not too sure. i doubt they would have children straight away. ❞
nodding her head in agreement, it's been sometime since all of them got together -- or even seen each other, that is. her eyes flicker to perceval for a moment before smiling. her enthusiasm at the knowledge of her best friend's upcoming engagement is curbed with the reminder that perceval's proposal was more of a matter of fact than the sappy romantic she fantasized about as a young girl.
she still cried and was elated all the same, but it was more of a question of what she was prepared for to deal with upon accepting. saya loves him... for better or worse. it was not the happily ever after the fantasy books loved to boast when you marry a prince. it was a duty and daresay, a career.
the mention of children tinges the affection in her eyes in a more melancholic way. the topic had been breached plenty of times between him and herself. he did not want children. that is fine, of course but... that regret of going alongside that still bothered her every so often. her lips part, breaking way for a wary laugh. " maybe sooner rather than later. they can't wait forever now that we're getting older. knowing them... they might've talked about it ahead of time. " she certainly cried to mila about it once.
❝ well, if that is what you desire, then i would be most pleased, ❞ he declared, his voice filled with reluctant optimism. truth to be told, skepticism lingered in his mind, courtesy of her prior complaints regarding such endeavors. her history spoke volumes of her disdain for these gatherings, and thus his heart tempered its hope with caution. yet, her willingness to try again, to brave the social tempest for his sake was something he appreciated. he did not require her constant presence by his side, but a sporadic appearance, a gesture of solidarity, would suffice in his eyes. he yearned not for mere compliance, but for a genuine partnership.
as she rambled on about his earlier suggestion of an early departure, he merely clicked his tongue in mild exasperation. ❝ oh, i do love it when people praise me, ❞ he remarked with a touch of arrogance. ❝ honestly, they should do that more often. even if it's just to spite elliot. ❞ he swirled the crimson wine in his glass, watching the liquid dance with a momentary distraction. ❝ but no, ❞ he clarified, his tone shifting to one of earnestness, ❝ that is not what i meant. i meant that we can leave a bit earlier and do not have to remain until the very end. i appreciate you coming here, is all i am saying. ❞ he knew well her disdain for such events, her preference for solitude over superficial pleasures of high society. and so, as a gesture of gratitude, he was willing to offer her an early escape, a departure that symbolized his appreciation for her presence.
❝ come to think of it, ❞ he mused aloud, his gaze shifting back to the woman next to him. ❝ i heard that both mila and luka are arriving in valmore next week. surely this news excites you, yes ? after all, you've grown quite close to her. ❞
the mention of their friend adds a spark of unique excitement to brown irises. " she did tell me in a letter recently ! " it doesn't surprise her that he had heard about it. adjusting her sitting position, the woman practically wiggles with excitement. " it's been a long time since we last saw them. i miss her very much... luka, too. " it dawns on her that may haps it's been too long since she last seen her best friend.
not that her in-laws were not good company, she was particularly fond of the youngest prince and princess as if they were her blood. however she missed the opportunity to gossip with mila. girl talk or what have you. perceval could not indulge her as much with that degree of conversation as their interests do not align as much. there was also some things she could not talk to her husband about that she felt eons more comfortable talking to mila about.
" she said she was excited to see us and happy to know that everything is going so well. " considering everything, anyway. she continues to rattle her thoughts, prattling about the contents of the letter before remembering that he doesn't share in the same comradery as the two girls. " aren't you excited too ? " a question lingers on her thoughts before she says the words aloud. " do you think they'll decide to settle down properly if they're visiting us ? "
if they are, she'd be happy and supportive. albeit envious that the couple walked more in step than herself and perceval. they were the sun and moon - perfectly complimenting each other while letting the other shine.
meanwhile, perceval and her, while there was no doubt they shared in the love that they created, the two of them fit together in such an odd way. with very different wants out of the life they created.
✉ ⸻ unprompted. send by, @mycsotis
the girl quietly considers the man. large irises do a once over of him before glancing away. even though he did not outwardly speak his thoughts, saya knew well that he was scrutinizing her presence. perhaps it was the fact that robin had taken a liking to her — or perhaps it was the bandaged secret that the other girl had accidentally discovered. either way, it was relatively unnerving to know she had garnered his interest… for better or worse.
he carefully observed her, his gaze fixed on her as he searched for any signs that she might be tainted with mara. his sister had mentioned what she discovered, but he needed to see saya for himself and ensure that she posed no threat to the people of penacony. sunday could sense her nervousness, the way she gingerly looked up at him, trying to discern his intentions. her body language spoke volumes; she was clearly uncomfortable, and he could see her anxiety. sunday sighed softly, realizing the weight of his responsibility in that moment
❝ be at ease, miss saya. ❞ he began calmly, gesturing for her to take a seat. as she complied and sat down, he soon settled into his own seat across from her. ❝ i'm fairly certain you are aware of why i summoned you here. ❞ he continued, his voice gentle but serious. he noticed the effort she had made to hide the markings, which only added to his curiosity. his hand rested on the table beside him, a subtle gesture of both authority and assurance. ❝ rest assured, i have no intentions of sending you away. ❞ sunday assured her, though the uncertainty lingered. ❝ not yet, at least. but your case is quite curious, uncommon even. ❞ he acknowledged. it was indeed unusual for an aeon to take notice of someone, given how often prayers went unanswered. ❝ i will not force you, ❞ he added, trying to convey his respect for her autonomy. ❝ but could you tell me how you ended up with the mark of the abundance ? ❞ his request was straightforward, yet he hoped she would understand the gravity of the situation and provide him with the information he sought.
compared to his sister, sunday is a far more imposing individual. it is a combination of his authority on the penacony and the lack of her equally imposing -- if not more -- companion. many people speak to her better when he is around. saya hesitates, listening to the gentle nudging of encouragement to indulge his curiosity. she was warned of letting too many people know.
it is not as if sunday was an untrustworthy man... but she does not trust him in this moment. and worse if blade finds out. if he does not return, she could be cast out of the penacony at the whims of the man in front of her. she opens her mouth to answer, thinking of what she can say instead of what she should. " i don't know. " that is the truth. " i remember... being spoken to by a very gentle voice after fainting after an accident. " the accident being that she technically died. the aeon - her patron - seemed to adore her. they ask many questions, playing with her hair and hands... they only seem to approach her in dreams, but by no means does she consider them malicious. magnanimous, even. " ...i had this mark since. does... that suffice at all ? "
at this unforeseen revelation, a hushed exhalation escapes her lips. gaze fixed on the markings etched upon the maiden's flesh. ❝ o-oh, this is ... most unexpected, ❞ she discerns it to be the markings of yaoshi, the aeon of abundance. witnessing the swift yet futile attempt of the other to conceal the mark beneath those bandages. ❝ it is alright, ❞ she offers a comforting assurance, sensing that the maiden is not marastruck but merely marked by an aeon. yet, she remains vigilant, knowing her own aeon shall stir with warning should peril draw near. ❝ i shall keep your secret, ❞ she pledges. ❝ let me help you, @mycsotis. ❞ extending her hand, waiting for the maiden to put the bandages in her hand.
the girl bites her lip; the bandages that have become undone could not possibly have been tightened by herself. how... humiliating. her pride - however minimal it is - does revolve around being somewhat pulled together. relenting, saya places the loosened bandages into the other young woman's arm. " ... please. thank you. i - my... companion, he'd be very angry if he knew. " he likely already knows, but he is not there in this moment. it may be worse because those who are marastruck fall into madness. the blessings of yaoshi are not taken lightly. " you... miss robin... you're very kind to not be afraid of me despite my... condition. "
a long time ago, such knowledge would have been a source of immense satisfaction. to wield influence over another's actions. to sculpt their endeavors to align with his desires, was a notion that once stirred his ego. in those days, the prince's gaze was fixed inward, and his ambitions were centered solely on the fulfillment of his own desires. yet, with her, there was a divergence from the familiar strains of manipulation. with her, it was different, a truth he had come to acknowledge. perhaps it was his journey that wrought this transformation, or perhaps it was what she meant to him. ❝ it does please me, ❞ he admitted. an admission of the depth of his affection for her. ❝ but you need not burden yourself with attendance at every affair. ❞ though his words were laced with concern, they bore the weight of understanding to some extent. a recognition of her aversion towards societal obligations. for he knew her tendencies to remove herself from the prying eyes of the world too well. and so, he sought to shield her from it somewhat.
the subtle reproach did not escape his notice. though he gave off an air of indifference, a mask to veil his thoughts. ❝ me ? i am not planning anything, ❞ he echoed, his tone laced with innocence and a bit of mischief as his lips curled into a sly grin. ❝ anything yet, at least. ❞ he conceded. but even as he toyed with the notion, a subtle shake of his head soon followed before dismissing it. ❝ but. ❞ he starts, ❝ i would be lying if i claimed not to entertain thoughts of an early departure from this ... revelry. ❞
“ no, but i would like to be there for you. the best i can. ” she reiterates. there would be a time and a place to indulge in the complex thoughts of marrying into royalty as a commoner. the discomfort of being questioned whenever the prince or another entourage wasn’t with her about gossip from bureaucrat wives. to be patronized because she is non-confrontational.
a gentle laugh rings, “ give it enough time, then. ” while she does not know him as well as one might think, saya does pick up on one or two things. while his mask may not give way to many thoughts, she’s noticed his ears do give some indication of his mood. she finds it quite endearing after having noticed sometime before their vows.
shifting her weight slightly, leaning on him more and curiously peering up at him. a left hand rests on his thigh with the movement, innocent as it is. “ really ? you wanted to leave a massive celebration of your accomplishments early ? ” it’s the things that aren’t anticipated that strike her the most. " you love it when people sing your praises, though... " not that she's complaining, of course. he is far more confident in himself than she could ever be.
the prince, regal in his bearing, found him momentarily startled, his elven heritage, evident in the subtle movement of his ears, betrayed his surprise as he caught wind of her declaration. ❝ will you ? ❞ he queried, his voice tinged with a mixture of disbelief and faint admiration. for her, one who typically shuns the glittering spectacles of high society, to entertain the notion of accompanying him was akin to witnessing a marvel unfold before his very eyes. he was well acquainted with her proclivity for solitude, her penchant for the solace found within the pages of her books rather than amidst the throngs of obligatory gatherings. ❝ i would appreciate it immensely if you did. ❞ he confessed, though his tone bore the weight of expectation, accustomed as he was to the sway of his desires. ❝ you need not feel compelled to grace every occasion with your presence, ❞ he continued.
❝ i wouldn't dare deem these gatherings as anything resembling 'fun'. ❞ his laughter danced through the air. he thinks they're more of a necessary evil, if anything. now the parties that he used to attend, together with his brother, were really fun. ❝ i shall endeavor to extract what enjoyment i can from this ... but it might be difficult with eliot around. ❞ he adds with a glint of mischief in his eyes.
his surprise isn’t unfounded. they both know well about her introverted proclivities but it doesn’t stop her from pouting at his expression. even she has her moments... she nods her head, acknowledging the promise once more. " i know, but... i do think about what would make you happy... and going pleases you, clearly. "
an elbow gently nudges his arm in a silent scold as he continues. the words implicate behavior that would leave any maiden flustered and red. she hardly can call herself a maiden anymore anyway. perhaps being married to him was a form of exposure therapy. he is often affectionate and said many sweet somethings to rile her up. instead of completely shutting down the idea, she smiles softly. " ...just try not to go overboard. " though, that does beg the question what would he even plan ? what thoughts of boyish mischief and wickedness flit through his mind ? " i trust you to be responsible and safe. i can't expect you to be on your best behavior when you get an idea. "
as festivities begin to end both noble and commoners make way to their respective abodes. perceval used to be an enthusiast of prolonged merriment, often joining those who would continue to celebrate and party until sunrise. though now that he is together with a lady draped in radiant pink he no longer does so. with an arm encircling her, the prince guides her to their carriage. a servant awaits them there, opening the door for them. aiding her into the carriage before soon the carriage sets forth towards the palace. as she leans against him, his expression softens ever so slightly allowing her to remain like that for the rest of the night.
❝ i did, ❞ the prince confirms with a lingering smile. ❝ i have had a lot of fun, perhaps the most fun i have had in a long while. ❞ a chuckle gracing his lips soon after. ❝ i missed those kind of parties. ❞ what he missed was the attention on him. although he came back a changed man, he still does relish in being the center of attention at times. especially during times like these. ❝ i know that you're not fond of these types of events. ❞ perceval continues, addressing his beloved. ❝ but i do appreciate it a lot that you came with me. ❞
the woman hums softly, mulling over his appreciation for her. it's a nice feeling, knowing how difficult she can be in regard to attending any public event as the wife of a prince. she accepted that arrangement when it was first proposed to her - though her mannerisms and aversion to social events would prove extremely problematic. and it did, and it has. occasionally it made perceval her adversary in such matters and they are two quite stubborn people when it came down to it.
her eyes go towards the window and the passing scenery before looking upwards to him. thoughts scroll through her mind before settling on something more favorable for him. he was more social by leagues and frankly, being the center of attention was what made him shine more. " i'll try to come out more often, then. " the words spoken are soft, as if she didn't want to make the promise to herself but to him only. " you deserve to have fun without worrying about me. "
❝ could it be ... ? ❞ he muses accompanied with a melodic hum. pondering about the rumors of a commoner's bold heel striking a prince's foot. the scandal of it echoing through noble halls and slum alleyways alike, transcending the borders of valmore to the gossip-laden slums of thallan. in this revelation he then proclaims. ❝ so you are the one the rumors spoke about ! ❞ he chuckles with recognition laced in his voice.
❝ indeed, i do. ❞ he affirms with a lingering smile before pirouetting gracefully in a way that is both lively and joyous. a bow follows, his grin persists. ❝ i used to travel a lot with my father, he found it important to visit the people where we would get our supplies from. ❞ as the son from the leading merchant family in sacan he was able to see a lot of the world because of it. ❝ the dances in thallan tend to be very formal, that's why i prefer the ones in valmore. ❞ the country prince perceval is from.
the girl makes a face. it twists between embarrassment and amusement. the realization her infamy even as a teen persists beyond even the valmorian borders. even before they met - he knew her. the more she thought on it, the horror settled in her stomach and she swallowed thickly to push it away. it bothered her then and it bothered her now.
she claps when he pirouettes. “ i did notice that in one of the books i read... ” though admittedly she wasn't nearly as well travelled, she has read about the differences between the two countries. with different customs and generally different social cultures ultimately. “ you don't seem like the type to enjoy formal balls either. ” saya comments, smiling quietly. she couldn't imagine him dressed to the nines, let alone doing anything defined as serious. yet perhaps he could clean up well if he tried. she stares at him, trying to imagine him in something like a suit. “ no... you'd just look out of place. ”
annoying the shit out of u is a love language that i'm fluent in
❝ oh, i venture he would do more than just that. ❞ he quips with a soft laugh. getting an earful would be the least of the prince's troubles if his older brother is involved. in that regard, the eldest never gave him as much trouble as elliot does. ❝ i shall be on my best behavior ❞ the promise sealed with a bow. ❝ but naturally, i cannot say the same of him. ❞ one could never rule out the chance of the two princes arguing for they were drawn to one another. even as children, the two siblings argued the most.
still, he didn't think she would believe in him from the start. he remembers her comments all too well. a pampered prince without a care in the world, untouched by hardship. everything had crumbled around him, and the bitter taste of loss became the unwelcome lesson he never wished to endure. even though those years in captivity seemed so long ago, they still terrorize him during his sleep at times. ❝ you would have been the only one. ❞ perceval asserts as he gazes at the brunet with a questioning yet nonetheless softened look. ❝ i, truth to be told, would not have, ❞ which isn't him being harsh on his past self, not in the slightest, but it is the honest truth.
❝ i'm very much real, at least i do not think i am there anymore. ❞ gazing at the world between a crack in the wall. ❝ if that is still the case i don't think i would want to wake up from this dream. ❞
the girl's expression softens further, affection oozing from her gaze upon him. of course, many years ago she probably would have said the same thing even then. she'd agree that he was a handful then, and only marginally better now. even the knowledge that his happiness matched hers placated doubts that often found a way to wedge itself in her throat. “ you're not there, no, ” she replies, straightening herself a bit to seem taller. almost proud of herself yet still the same meek woman he's known for so long. “ reality is better for us. both of us. ”
as with all major festivals, the celebrations draw to a close as night fell and the commoners cleared the streets. fatigue finally rolls over her as she leans against the prince once they come into the comforts of their carriage. she shuts her eyes, content with contact after an overwhelming day of conversation with people she did not know yet they knew her. if he was happy, she was happy.
“ did you have fun ? ” saya asks, shifting her weight slightly. her attention seems focused on smoothing another wrinkle she spies on him as she talks. “ i did... even if i didn't like all the attention we got. ” social interactions is where he thrives, even if she does not.
ㅤㅤ𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐒𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐓, 𝐀 𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐋 of lavender hues before gaze settles on maiden again, goblet pointed her way. ❝ you're a terrible liar. ❞ lies upon lies, insulting, mocking — and yet aegon doesn't reply in scorn, instead he raises his glass towards her, cheers on another promise to be broken ; to unwise decisions. a gulp of red wine, stains tongue and wettens throat. glass now empty, aegon leans back and watches maiden with interest.
❝ what are you doing here ? ❞ curiosity peaked, why would someone be possibly interested to be in his vicinity ? people had been clear and vocal about that ( perhaps they wouldn't have said such things had they been aware he was nearby or conscious for that matter ) still, he knew what was said about him by his family and by the people in the keep. surely, she'd rather be with his darling sister or sweet baby brother who was ever so perfect. a roll of eyes, wanting to take another mouthful only to realise cup was empty. annoying. ❝ before you leave, ❞ smile aimed at her, uncomfortable and yet — he assumes she wants to leave, wouldn't mind if she stayed. ❝ mind fetching me a new cup ? ❞
the maidservant resists the urge to roll her eyes and instead looks down. she really does not enjoy lying - she really would like to tell him off at times yet the fear of having her head roll hampers that. however, his questioning of her presence catches her somewhat off guard as she gazes at him blankly.
she plucks at the dried skin around her nails as she answers, “ ...it was assigned to me today, your highness. ” she lacked the heart to mention that many of the serving girls begged to have their posts taken up by the older ones. when the other girl came to her, it was an easy yes. saya never hardly ever complained about the assignment either, as prince aemond allowed her to speak freely and princess helaena was not nearly as demanding as their eldest sibling.
“ if that is everything for now... ” she says, bringing over a pitcher that was left behind by a different servant and filling his goblet. it empties out into the cup, leaving behind empty pewter. “ i will return shortly to bring more wine... so... please do not leave in search of someone else. it should not be long. ” a quick bow and a flutter of cotton clothing made her retreat quite swift. her eyes flick behind her at the prince for a moment, almost making sure he hadn't moved before leaving the room.
he's so babygirl coded T^T
