#haydee.

[amomentxofhappiness]

@thestarvingsaintsstart cont. from here

Haydee did as she was asked. If she compartimentalized enough and momentarily forgot exactly how she had gotten to this kingdom, this could be considered a good day. A proper thing to do with your bethroted: getting to know their people, be part of a beautiful ceremony (it was beautiful and a nice thought--it was cold obviously, as everything else here, but full of feeling).

Holding onto the torch Haydee saw how it lit up the and how it was yet another source of cold, but bright--she almost felt like touching it but it was still a flame, wasn't it? And the cold could burn just as bad as a raging fire. So she remained as she was, doing what she was supposed to, keeping a polite smile (and at times, genuine too) as the lamp was lit and the festival began.

She put a mental pin on the topic of his sister for later, wondering if she had died or had been married off to someone--his voice didn't falter at the mention of a sister but something felt sad about the way he expressed the entire thing. If he was another man, she would feel sorry for him, for being alone. But it served him right.

Ugh.

And now he was trying to get in her good graces? It was all an act she was sure. It had to be. He was short of pretending she was a potted plant not twenty minutes ago. "You think so? Hopefully," she wasn't entirely sure if she was acting the hope or genuinely feeling it. She did not want to be here, no more than when she was brought in but she was adjusting--adaptability was a fine quality the Kenobis all shared, mostly thanks to her uncle Ben and aunt Padme, always low key preparing them to run. And they were right, weren't they? Haydee hoped things at home were better now, that they were rebuilding and thriving.

"What are we supposed to do next? Meet your council? Or mingle among your people?"

[amomentxofhappiness]

@kctabasis doing the #OBSESSED thing again (from here)

ronan stood in the great hall of this pathetic kingdom, his hand raising high in the air to cease the movement of any other fae within it. a chilling silence fell as he regarded the girl in front of her. the streaks of her tears stained her cheeks and his eyes fell to the weapon in her hand. humans were such obvious creatures, reacting on emotion than thought when put into such situations. but no matter his personal qualms with the mortal beings, ronan had very good reason to bring death to the doors of this kingdom. his eyes rested on the girl in front of him, the one he was owed. "be happy your father met a swift and clean death, there are worse things i could have done with him." he replied. boots echoed against the floor as he walked closer to the girl, studying her with intensity. a pity really, allowing your kingdom to be brought to its knees simply for not adhering to what had been agreed upon. one sacrifice and the humans no longer hunt the fae. one sacrifice and the fae no longer kill the humans. and yet this king had felt he was above them all, enough that he didn't need to give this girl away. her defiance caused a smile to stretch over his lips. at least she was willing to fight back against something. she had fight, more than he could say for her father. he glanced down at the limp body sprawled at their feet, even dead humans were distasteful.

"i've left enough of your people alive to re-build this so called kingdom." he said finally, eyes going back to her's. "i only came to get what was owed to me. and now that i have you i will give you your one and only choice." one more step, his hand reaching up and taking her chin in his hand as if inspecting her. "die by the same sword that killed your pathetic father or return to my court to become my bride."

Haydee's body was shaking from anger and despair but she was still standing tall in front of this impossible tall and menacing man. She was not going to cave and she may die soon -- very soon, but she'd die standing, defending the things she believed in the most.

she listened to his words with furrowed eyebrows. she knew there were deals with the fae kingdom, treaties but whenever she asked about them her father and uncle would change the topic, would tell her there was nothing for her to worry about. clearly, they had lied and... and something was definitely not right.

this man--whatever he was--seemed to be speaking quite fairly for someone that had just masacred their kingdom and spoke of having her. her? the princess? she knew that it was a (horrible) custom to snatch the princesses and kill the princes whenever another kingdom won, she half expected that but what the king was saying had a different tone to it.

and his hand gripping at her chin was warm, burning hot, crass and soft all at once and her mind and heart were even more confused. he was here to kill her, of course he was.

"wai--bride?" she asked with visible confusion in her features, the knife held by her right hand dropping to the side. she couldn't fight this man, she could try and stab him of course but he'd break her neck in a split second and then her kingdom will be nothing but ashes.

"you--i was owed to you? what are you talk--" she shook her head and look down at her father, trying to remember. "you want me, a human, to marry you? why?" she asked in mild disbelief. it didn't make any sense whatsoever.

unless...

was that the treaty? she thought it was a sacrifice of some kind, but--but not this. she would do it though, if it meant securing the lives of her people and the survival of the kingdom. she would do it without hesitation so why, why did his father never told her? or her uncle? why they got themselves into this pointless war that killed so many?

"you killed them all because... because you wanted me and they didn't...?"

[amomentxofhappiness]

@thxoracle h&d

Today had been tough. Mme. De Morcef had brought her dress, had helped her in it, both Juan and Cristobal had cried seeing her dressed up in it and she had faked being just as happy, at least for a little while.

After being excused and changing into more comfortable clothes (her warm woolen pants, boots and sweater and his boyish jacket and hat) she had snuck into the barn and gotten her horse. She needed to get away from Haydee Diaz de Vivanco; she needed a good cry.

She found herself by the ruins Dante mentioned and after securing the horse, she started wondering around them, pocketing her hat and lettinh her hair fall over her shoulders and back. Eventually she sat down on the grass, back to one of the walls and wondered how much longer she'd have to live this lie.

She missed the freedom they had away from here, she miss her friend whomlved away, but most of all ahe missed her mom that day. Mme de Morcef had been kind and warm but she was a poor substitute of Elizabeth.

Her thoughts and tears over her lost life suddenly stopped when she got startled by a twig breaking not too far, and she instinctively went for the knife in her boot, keeping it hidden behind her forearm. "Who's there?"

[amomentxofhappiness]

@troublesomemix haydee & reid, medieval wolf verse

Haydee missed her little hut, the freedom it gave her. She was mostly alone there, yes, and it was dangerous for her now, she understood but she could take care of herself. She may not be able to shift but she could take care of herself.

She loved Frank, as much as she loved her father and both men had agreed that what was best for her was to be here, protected by the King. And she could be more useful here, protecting the new Queen to be. At least they had given her a task, one no one knew about. For everyone including Reid she was merely the daughter of the old kingsguard; young, naive, a little misfit with herbs but otherwise harmless. But she could fight and she would protect the new Queen in a way she had failed with Marie. She had loved Marie too, like a sister. She could love Maeve like one too.

After helping Maeve ready herself for bed, Haydee had a bit of free reign and headed to the library. She missed the forest but she couldn't very well go at night, not when the people that hurt Frank were still out there, it wasn't safe. So the library it was--countless books on history, geography, biology, astronomy, it was hard to decide and when she was almost set on a french novel she heard it (or smelled it? or something) and turned around, small knife up her sleeve quickly moving to her hand, covered by the book on her other hand. "Who's there? Show yourself."

[amomentxofhappiness]

@thxoracle cont. hayde && claudia

"I'd appreciate it. And i'm sure that's what Rodrigo would like," Haydee said with a polite smile, picturing several ways to end this ludicruous plan before the day she'd have to be presented. It was no use though, things were progressing but they weren't quite there yet and this woman was embedded in their plans now, whether she liked it or not. She didn't.

The dress was objectively beautiful and Haydee was far more partial to green and lilac, and even golden than white. White was boring. White pointed to virginity, the only bargaining chip females had in good society and she loathed that even more. She still had hers of course, by mere chance and Cristobal buying her instesd of a pervert but it didn't make her any less upset. "I see," Haydee nodded. "Well then if you approve I'll ask the modiste for it. With less puffy sleeves, they're not really me."

And then she said Cristobal and that she wasn't his sister. Forget about outing her, Haydee only cared that the foolish woman used his real name. "Walls have ears you know," Haydee chided her breathing out and shaking her head in a cold whisper. "No matter how alone you believe we are, you will never call him that again unless you two are alone in our home," she wasn't asking either. Her posture had changed, no more dropped shoulders and naivete--Haydee's head stood a little taller, her jaw clenched, her eyes were no longer trying to avoid the other woman's. She was no longer Haydee Diaz del Vivanco.

"You are going to get us all killed," she huffed again, standing up and pacing through the room. Foolish Cristobal. And foolish herself for agreeing to this bloody nonsense.

Crossing her arms over her chest she took a deep breatth. Flashes of Claudia's drunk husband yelling at his father to sign off his fortune while she was being l*shed in front of them flew through her mind, as vivid as her nightmares, as vivid as her memories. Her back hurt again, it was all in her mind but still there, like an open wound.

But she had promised Cristobal she'd give this woman the benefit of the doubt. Cristobal was an idiot about her but he wasn't a fool. Making up her mind, she took a few steps closer to the older woman again and her voice dropped to a whisper again, trying to make sure that if someone was listening they couldn't get much of anything. "Your husband destroys lives in his wake," another deep breath. "Fernand de Morcef increased his fortune tenfold a decade or so ago, when his business partner died unexpectedly, no? Poor don Alfonso Quijano, attacked in his home by thieves, wife brutally m*rdered too, daughter missing, probably sold as a sl*ve so she wouldn't be able to tell what she knew. She probably still has marks in her back from the t*rture they must've put her through. Thieves are, drunk thieves especially, can be very cruel, t*rture a mother and her daughter to get the father to do anything." She breathed out again, shoulders dropping , had to blink out a few times to avoid tears, her eyes no longer looking at Claudia but miles away. "Thankfully there's justice in this world and one day that girl will find that man, and after he loses everything including his mind, she will get to do to him what he did to her father. And then maybe that girl will have some peace."

Haydee shook her head and brushed off some sneaky tears that escaped her eyes, cleared her throat and resumed her naivete stance, going back to a regular tone of voice. "Should I call for the modiste now, countess? So we can get this lovely dress done?" -- @thxmxchiavellian

[amomentxofhappiness]

someone please kiss my baby like this