@prxestess - Tumblr Blog

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siamofiorimorti

#( the little dove | aesthetic )#( the little dove || tria )

bexandicelia

Enola and Tewkesbury Enola Holmes 3

#( the little dove | aesthetic )#demetria onassis #vs #ptolemy philopator philometor caesar

eddie-redcliffe

Keep up, Thomas. I am trying.

#( the little dove | aesthetic )#it's where her brain is always.#just find her here #with a hot nerd barrister

"When you look at me you see the boy who took your friend not the man who loves you." //ptolemaic weakness for antonii goooo

"I don't see the boy that stole my friend, I see your father face down on the polished marble drooling, hiccuping and crying about Caesar."

It wasn't the nicest retort but Tria couldn't help it. The intensity with which he was looking at her made her palms feel sweaty and her heart rate accelerate.

Yet there wasn't any denying there was truth to his words - not if she was to be honest with herself. Caesarion cast a long shadow over her life and though others have shown their interest, when put against him... had fallen hopelessly short.

Antyllus wasn't Caesarion and could never be. But Caesarion was probably tangled in some woman's bed sheets and unlikely to ever be looking at her the way Antyllus was.

Her brow creased miserably as the wind whipped up from the Tiber, coating her in the stench of Rome as well as making her cold. She folded her arms around herself, both shield and blanket. The moon cast its light upon them, seemingly giving it's blessing for this unorthodox meeting between two people who'd been sworn enemies for years back home in Alexandria.

Because he couldn't ever be ignored, Tria addressed the Pharaoh shaped elephant head on. "I don't know what he tells you and I don't want to know but you seem to be under the same impression as my mother- let me dissuade you of it. Caesarion doesn't notice I exist unless he's bored. I don't know what I did back then. I still don't. But his interest in me is non existent and always has been. I'm many things but I'm not a fool. "

She was about to add that she didn't intend to be her aunt: pining for what was gone but his father was her current husband and she didn't want to be the fuel for another Antony drinking session.

Instead she re-focused her attention on him. "Why do you love me?"

#( a curiosity answered | askbox )#meeting at the midnight hour; talking about the other man haha #loyalcharmian #( the little dove flies | main )

"How can a boy who died at 17 years old thousands of years ago capture your imagination?"

"I don't rightly know." Tria admitted with ease. It still baffled even her where this attachment had come from. Why, of all the figures of history, she kept coming back to this one. How someone born before the birth of Christ ( who some even theorised *was* Christ ) felt familiar in a way she couldn't explain.

"And he didn't merely die, papa, he was *murdered* out of jealousy and political necessity by Octavian." Did she sound defensive, even to her own ears? Yes. Yes she did. She tried not to and yet she couldn't help it.

Frustrated with herself and with him frankly, she tipped her chin up defiantly and marched on ahead, picking her way carefully through other tourists who she had to strongly resist smacking with her parasol. ( Some thing she managed... just. ) It felt wrong somehow that so many should be here. She felt the strong urge to order them all away and an even stronger sense of certainty that once upon a time her word would've been followed.

As her eyes took in Dendera and the relief of mother and son, Tria felt it again. That wave of inexplicable familiarity that bordered alarmingly too close to fondness for someone who'd been murdered thousands of years ago.

Her quiet moment was disturbed by a group tbat pushed their way beside her, talking animatedly about finding Cleopatra. Another dig, another waste of other people's money seeking the last Queen who didn't want to be found. And so, to annoy them, Tria twirled her parasol handle in painted fingers, shooting him a darling smile though her eyes flashed with challenge.

"I think this is the closest we'll ever get to the Queen don't you papa?" Indignant protest shot up at her side but she ignored them, focusing on her papa. "A fool and their money are easily parted. Because that ghastly man Carter found the Pharaoh now everyone thinks they'll find her. They won't."

Where the certainty came from she wasn't sure yet she felt it in her marrow. Grip tightening on her parasol, she added more to herself as she turned her gaze to the relief. "Or him either."

#( v: once upon an august || reincarnation au )#( a curiosity answered | askbox )#loyalcharmian

siamofiorimorti

Catarina De Lurton scenes — Deus salve o rei episode 69

#( the little dove || tria )#b e a n #when everyone adores the person who hurt you #not even able to fake it

mporium

#( the little dove | aesthetic )#grabby h a n d s

qjaiden

#littlecaesar #( the little dove | aesthetic )#accurate af

theroning

Sweet Bird of Youth (dir. by Richard Brooks, 1962).

#( the little dove | aesthetic )#ft. caesarion #accurate af

emma-ofnormandy

#pure poetry The Artful Dodger 2.7- Salt Peter

#g u i l t y #( the little dove | aesthetic )

tagohara

BELLA MACLEAN as TAGGIE O'HARA RIVALS - 2.04

#b e a n #( the little dove | aesthetic )

couplestv

THE ARTFUL DODGER (2023 - )

#bean going to spend her life with jack dawkins forget 2.0 #( the little dove | aesthetic )

littlecaesar

The world was upside down at the moment; the country was up in arms demanding him, his father was in a morgue somewhere with bullet holes in his chest, his mother was delirious with grief. He was sure one half of his family was plotting and scheming already, and the other packing their bags and hauling ass onto their private jets to be there. Right now though, right now he mentally doubled the thanks he knew he owed to Emyrs, and wondered if you could knight someone twice.

"You flew? For me?" he managed to get out when she came forward and hugged him, his own arms immediately grabbing tightly hold of her, "Thank you". For a second he almost forgot he was still likely rather crusty with blood, and looked like a disheveled mess. He'd never been so glad, so relieved, to see someone in his life.

For a few minutes he didn't even know what to say, and just kept holding on to her. It was like all the noise disappeared just for a moment, though he was rapidly approaching the end of his rope. Maybe she was keeping him upright at the moment, because all he really wanted to do was fall back onto the floor. "I...I almost died Tria. Without your dad I might have. I was just standing there like an idiot and he pointed it at me next." The words exploded out of him all in a rush as though the damn had finally broken.

"Then Brutus was tackled and my father was on the floor bleeding. So much blood...and I couldn't even stay. Emrys, he hauled me up and I couldn't even be there anymore. Christ I know we didn't get along but he was my father and he was dying. And hardly anyone seems to get that!". He cast a venomous glance at the window then, the noise of the crowd muffled by the walls but still easy enough to hear.

He didn't say anything at first when Tria asked about him having eaten and needing to change, the small breakfast and suit he'd thrown on seemed like part of a separate life now. "I had breakfast," he muttered, "Probably wouldn't keep much down. And my clothes...". Caesarion stared down between them at himself and his still stained clothing, bloody visions in his head again.

"They're not going to go....they want me. They don't seem to care my father is dead, that I saw it, that I could have lead on my chest right now." He let her go then, sinking back down onto the floor and running his hands through his messed up curls in a distracted manner.

"I wouldn't hate you if you did that, I don't think I could regardless," he muttered, "But don't. I'll...I'll have to go out eventually but I'm not subjecting you to anything else today."

prxestess

There was an established dynamic that, up until this very moment, had suited Tria quite nicely thank you. She was the panicked one who spoke a thousand miles a minute while he, in turn, looked amused and let her wear herself out before reassuring her everything would be fine. It was well established: it was the way they were.... but there's nothing like an assassination to flip everything on its head.

Understandably, Tria found herself the put together one. The calm one. The one tasked with calming *him*. It was new territory and she was desperately hoping she's be good enough to at least not make matters worse. "Of course I did. It's you. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you." She reaffirmed, the words fading into a squeak as her breath wheezed out of her lungs as he clutched her tightly to him. She wouldn't change it though. Some part of her had needed the confirmation he was truly okay and now she had it: he was real, solid and pressed against her. That panicked part of her could finally be calmed.

As the words broke free, Tria held onto him, arms looped around his middle and simply listened. She knew the story, everyone did by now. But it seemed to her he needed to get it out, to voice what he had experienced and if, as he clearly had, he'd chosen her to be his sounding board she would listen dutifully.

It troubled her to hear her father couldn't let him linger and yet she knew why. "I think he wanted to save you from them forcing you to be declared King on the spot. The King is dead, long live the King has always been tacky but in your circumstances it'd just have been cruel and they wouldn't have cared either. The state carries on etcetera, etcetera." She wanted to add that the plotters probably had an... interesting fate for his mother planned also - that his arrival alone thwarted; but stopped herself. One parental murder at a time. She forced herself to smile, to squeeze her looped arms around him. "But you're here now. You're okay. They aren't going to get you. Not them outside or the senate or anyone else. You're safe and whatever else your problems with your father, that's what he'd want right now."

Tria could only nod as he spoke of not being able to keep anything down. She had guessed as much but had to try. "If being King doesn't pan out, an Armani modelling contract is sure to be in the post. Only you could pull off this look." Tria half heartedly teased, hoping to bring some normality to this less than normal time. The pulsing, demanding noise of the crowd was like a punishing drill to her skull that was getting harder to ignore. She wanted desperately to tear a window open and tell them all to fuck off. That she hated each and every one of them and they didn't deserve to speak her best friend's name let alone have the audacity to demand a performance after what they knew he'd been through: but alas, threatening his subjects was not possible. No matter how much they deserved it.

Bereft of his closeness as he sat on the floor, Tria couldn't help the sadness that unfurled within her. He looked so small for someone who'd always loomed large over her life and so very young now too. Too young to be King. Not that anyone but her seemed to care about that fact. That demanding collective still pierced the walls; selfish and unthinking as they continued demanding he perform for them even in the moments he had nothing left to give.

"Subjecting ME?!" She exclaimed, her neck sore from the double take the words caused. "You go through what you have today and you don't want to subject ME?!" With fond incredulity, Tria shook her head and joined him on the floor - well, in his lap. Taking his beautiful face between her palms, she met his gaze as she spoke. "We aren't going anywhere until you're ready. And yes I said we. You aren't going to face any of this alone. Not them out there, not the declaration of ascension, nothing." Not able to allow things to get too serious, she added wryly. "It really would be my pleasure to tell them to fuck off for you."

Knowing he'd not let her though, she released his face and took his hand in her own, threading their fingers; she gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "Ignore them outside. Take your time. Everyone can wait."

#( v; cinderella's ides of march || modern au )#oh beaaaaaaaaaaan #you're too sweet #and you really love him and it's obvious #littlecaesar

"2,000 talents were paid to Octavian to protect the stone you wished to." Dion couldn't pretend to understand what was going on in that head of his daughter's but he knew she had done everything she could to gather the money for Archibus to hand over. Though it made his stomach knot to think on. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

"Damnatio memoriae is a deserved punishment for Antony and I'll not step in the way of any who'd seek to smash the remnants of him in this life... but her..." Too many emotions swirled within her when she thought of her aunt and the fate the Romans had for her. Seeking to erase her forever while knowing that to deny her essence in the world was to deny her the afterlife too. It wasn't something Tria could allow herself to think on. They had to be together, the three of them - after all they'd done, all they'd gone through: she couldn't allow Rome to deny them that.

It would sound foolish to him, Tria knew. He didn't believe in the same things she did or her mother had. Swallowing back a more emotive response, Tria looped her arm through his and cast her gaze up to the relief of the temple Hathor: mother and son side by side for eternity. She had formally been acknowledged in the temple of the Birth of Isis as the new High Priestess but couldn't leave without seeing them one last time. There was a stillness as night descended and an attendant went around lighting the lamps: she felt oddly at peace despite the turmoil engulfing her from every side back home.

"It is but money." A hell of a lot of money. That had to grease Octavian's palms of all people. If it made her dad's stomach knot, it made Tria feel positively sick to her stomach: but that was the game she entered and so, if she had to grease the palms of that pretender to protect the immortal soul of her aunt, she would. "And it's what Caesar would want."

Of that, Tria was certain. Caesarion would ultimately have a plan to retrieve every last talent back from the worthless excuse of a leader but he'd want his mother not to be erased. She knew that.

#loyalcharmian #doing things because caesar would want it but also because it's her aunt? on brand.#( the little dove flies | main )