#moresaints

[bronzebtch]

she's distracted.

how unbecoming. on her own wedding day, nevertheless. rhea quickens herself to smile. she does not think about this dreaded wedding dress which seems to engulf her, and the tightness of the braids in her hair that she cannot wait to take off when the night is done. ( in the vale, the braids are never this tight. ) she does not want to think about what will happen when the night is done.

❝ you are the heir apparent to kingdom of temeria, are you not ? ❞ rhea curtsies, welcoming and gracious; a lesson she's taken well when she was officially engaged with the prince. when rhea smiles, it is all courteous. the picture perfect wife for the most powerful house in the seven kingdoms in this side of the world. isn't that what she has sworn herself to ?

❝ i thank you for accepting the invitation to our wedding, your grace — or, ah, perhaps there is a title with which you prefer i call you by ? pray forgive. i am still learning the customs of the monarchy. i understand it differs with each continent. ❞

@moresaints — younger rhea sc

[korzionarchive]

@moresaints sent: “care for some company?” (from zel)

Rhaenys looked over from where she had been standing looking over the wall into the courtyard. "In this hellish place?" She quipped with a wry smile. "Most certainly so. Court isn't something that anyone should ever be forced to bear alone."

[martyrshe]

@moresaints, continued from this

Philippa finds herself torn between anger and concern, her expression a mix of hurt and shock. She couldn't believe that Zelda would question her intentions, especially in such a vulnerable moment. The accusation cuts deep, stirring a whirlwind of emotions within her. Despite the turmoil, she remains silent, fixating on the water droplets cascading down Zelda's legs and onto the floor. Gripping her dress tightly at first, her knuckles turn white before she releases her grasp, forcing herself to take a deep breath. Dealing with pain wasn't her forte, but anger? She had mastered that skill long ago. Frustration and anger flicker across Philippa's narrowed eyes.

"Oh, how could I forget? I meticulously orchestrated all of this just to marry you off to that 'devil' Radovid! Because my lifelong dream was definitely to see you wedded to a tyrant. Clearly, you have me all figured out, Zelda." Philippa's words drip with sarcasm, fully aware of the consequences if anyone were to overhear such audacity. Yet, in this moment, she couldn't care less. The familiar heat of rage coils within her, providing a twisted comfort. "Yes, of course, my affection and love for you were all an act." Love is a rare occurrence for her, making this accusation feel like a painful slap in the face.

Fuelled by hurt and frustration, Philippa's voice grows louder. "Maybe you're right. Maybe everything we shared meant absolutely nothing to me. Perhaps it was all just a cruel game to toy with your emotions. Does that satisfy you? Does it bring you joy to question my intentions and cast doubt on every moment we cherished together?" She throws her hands up in exasperation, finally allowing her exasperation to shine through after her emotional outburst. But deep down, she can't deny that the catharsis she sought still eludes her. With a final exhale, the rage that had consumed her seems to dissipate, leaving behind a void of emptiness and a sense of dread she hadn't experienced in centuries.

"What hurts the most is that you would accuse me of such things while you're in labor. Instead of being there to comfort you, I am standing here defending myself against baseless accusations." She shakes her head, refraining from moving closer as Zelda crumbled in her anguish. Stepping back, Philippa made a decision. "I will find someone to help you." She resists the urge to add a final sarcastic remark to Zelda about staying where she is. Instead, she bites her tongue and hesitates for a moment before speaking again. "I'll return once it's done." With a graceful swirl of her skirt, she exited the room, leaving behind a palpable tension.

[martyrshe]

Philippa finds herself at a loss for words — not because she lacks the vocabulary to describe what she's feeling, but because she's trying to maintain her composure. It's important to her to stay strong, for the sake of them both. She's feeling vulnerable and uncertain, and for once she can't rely on her words to mask her emotions. Still, she's determined to keep her front up, to show that she at least can be strong. Indeed, the only thing she can think of doing is taking a deep breath, and steading herself.

“Let’s hope it sticks,” she says grimly, with a hand to her stomach. “Then at least I will not have to bed him again, at least not until the baby is born and I am healed.”

Philippa's mind raced as she watched @moresaints's hand rest on her stomach. She longed to do the same, to feel the warmth and softness of her lover's body, but she held back. She couldn't let her vulnerability show, not now. Her voice came out flat and hollow as she spoke, trying to mask the turmoil inside her. "Let's hope so."

She winced at the memory of the painful procedure Zelda had undergone. Philippa herself had insisted on it, even though she knew how much it went against her partner's wishes. She felt guilty, but also justified. They wedding had to be consumed, and it had to bear fruits. They could not postopone it anymore, not with the responsibilities and dangers that came with their positions. "I'm sorry you had to do that," she said, her eyes fixed on Zelda's belly. "I know how much you did not want to."

She wanted to promise that it wouldn't happen again, but she couldn't. The future was uncertain, now more than ever. Still, she couldn't bear the thought of seeing Zelda suffer again, and she feared the consequences if they failed to prevent it. "We will take every precaution so that you don't have to do that anymore," she said, her voice firm but tinged with worry. "After all, one heir will suffice." She prayed that it would, that they could build a future without sacrificing their love or their safety. But deep down, she knew that the road ahead was fraught with challenges, and that their bond would be tested more than ever before.

[velvetipped]

ask sent by , @moresaints / " i promise i won't be naughty. "

" your promises always seem to be rather empty. " her voice remains stern whilst the expression that she's wearing on her face falters ever so slightly. there's no stopping the slightly sparkle in her eye and the way the way the corner of her lips twitch as she tries her damn hardest not to crack a smile. that would be unprofessional and encouraging to the younger female's tactics and she, for one, does not want to feed into that. " i'd do best to take them with a pinch of salt. "

she's well aware, of course, that whatever she says will go over zelda's head - akin to dust that one might sweep beneath a rug without so much as a single thought. the younger folk, no matter their status, are renown for their rebellion - and she cannot argue with that for once upon a time, many moons ago, she too was a disobedient adolescent with a vengeance for wreaking havoc to the older folk around her.

" but i mean it. best behavior, please. god forbid, we don't want to give these guests a bad impression. first impressions are important and we'd do well to make sure we kept up our appearances. are you listening to me? "

[nvrqn-a]

@moresaints starter call.

and so she is announced, Q U E E N rhaenys targaryen, first of her name, queen of the seven kingdoms, queen of andals and first men, P R O T E C T O R of the realm, as she enters the hall. it has been years since she was first crowned, but it still feels R I G H T. " i hope you were not kept waiting for T O O long. " she speaks to her esteemed guest.

[nvrqn-a]

@moresaints starter call.

" they D E N I E D me. but i made something of myself still. " she refers to the way she, as lady V E L A R Y O N and with her husband by her side, brought the house to glory and fortune second O N L Y to this of house targaryen. lips curl into a smirk that does not hide R E S E N T M E N T. " so i wear the gold and jewels with P R I D E, and i look at them, and think; you B L O O D Y fools, it could have been all of you, had i been your Q U E E N. "

[martyrshe]

The more Philippa stares at the woman, the more interesting she becomes. Weird, she thinks, since they've barely spoken before now, if at all. Not certainly for lack of interest, on her part, but merely because the circumstances upon which they met were never the best to have a pleasant conversation in front of a tea cup.

She remembers her, and even before she mentions when they met, Philippa already knows. How could you forget this sun made person, golden hair and young naive eyes, striding into battle as the guiding light of the Temerian army? A sight she did not think she would forget, even if at the time she didn't pay much attention to what happened in the aftermath. She knew who she was --- of course she did. Who didn't?

“𝙸 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚂𝚘𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚗, 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚠𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗. 𝙸 𝚜𝚊𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 - 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜… 𝙸 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎.” 𝚈𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚐𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚠. 𝙽𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚎𝚠𝚕𝚢 𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚗𝚎𝚍. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚟𝚎.

Ah, Sodden Hill. That shitshow, indeed she remembers. She lost good friends there, she lost people she cared about. She was one of the few mages who took a stance against the Nilfgaardian army, and faced the brunt of the war in first person. A shadow briefly crosses over her features, but it's soon gone, along with the slight crinkle in between her eyebrows. Her lips stretch in a thin smile, albeit an air of fakeness hovers around it.

She offers a tiny courtsy, hands moving to get her dress out of the way. "Your highness." She says, adressing @moresaints directly. She cannot decide whether she hates or love the fact that she has to crane her neck to look at the woman's face, considering their considerable height difference. "I believe Sodden was not the best place to have a first meeting, with all the stabbing and cursing going around." She quips, hands moving to clasp in front of her. Her rings shine slightly in the lit room. "We all had things to do. People to kill, people to heal. Armies to guide to victory." And for a fleeting moment, her lips curl up genuinely, memories fond despite the grief they carry with them.

"Was that your first battle, your highness?"