#softspokenrigelian

[rigelsprince]

The Holly Bears the Crown [Winter Berkut & Rinea]

@softspokenrigelian sent: 🎁❄️ The gift is a little box with an Angel Ring

Blizzards were no rare occurrence in northern Rigel, especially during merciless wyrmstym. Once the snows began, rural Rigelians resolved to abandon their farms and migrate south for the season, or join their wealthier relatives within the castle town, whose tall, imposing walls served to protect the castle and all within from the most treacherous of the weather. But this year’s blizzard came far earlier and far heavier than usual, and the castle’s interior - ordinarily able to avoid the worst of the snow until the late-season blizzards - was blanketed in white by sunrise.

Berkut stood by the window overlooking one of the fortress’ many courtyards, watching the fat snowflakes spin and dance on their way to the drifts below, to further barricade the heavy wooden doors leading in and out of the royal dwellings. So much for his afternoon’s training, he thought, fingers tapping restlessly upon the windowsill. He’d be lucky if the servants managed to clear just one door by dusk, and by then, the snow melted by their efforts would only freeze and harden again. What would he possibly do with himself, forced to spend his day indoors like this?

He leaned deeper into the windowframe, the chill from outside seeping in through the seal around the glass and leaching the warmth from his hand. Ravens - nothing more than fluttery black figures so far below - had taken to playing in the whitewashed field, knowing fully that they were the only creatures that dared. Then new movement, not of the ravens but of something reflected from behind, refocused his eyes on the glass before him, on the reminder that he would not be down there to scatter the birds from his preferred training ground, and he turned with a huff to meet his visitor.

“Oh. Rinea.” His expression softened as his voice did, and the frustration that had accumulated quickly dissipated at the sight of her. He even managed something of a smile, one that grew wider and more genuine as she held her gift out to him.

“This is rather early, is it not?” Though if she had aimed to surprise him, she had done so. He pulled the ribbon and let it fall carelessly to the ground, and the lid and box would have followed had he been a few years younger. The exterior of the gifts never much mattered to him.

“This is... an angel ring?” He pulled the silver band from its felt hold and examined the blessing etched into the metal. He hadn’t even need of an answer; his uncle’s ring had been the object of his fascination for years, so much so that he now held a near-perfect image of the metalwork and engraving in his memories. For several moments, he simply stared at the gift in contemplative, mournful silence. Then his eyes flickered up toward Rinea, faintly shimmering.

“Where did you find such a treasure?”

[ragnarokprincess-blog]

@softspokenrigelian ♥‘d a starter call

"Forgive me my rudeness, but... are you Lady Rinea?” The gentle beauty before her surely had to be the Rigelian noble she’d heard of in rumour on her journey through Rigel - she seemed to hold a kind aura that felt entirely foreign from the land she hailed from.

“My name is Celica. I’ve... heard a little about you.”

[rigelsprince]

I'm just imaging Rinea say 'Berkut, this is a team sport.'

To which he’d reply, “Do you want to win or not, Rinea?”

[rigelsprince]

Lain Low [Berkut & Rinea]

starter for @softspokenrigelian

      They had fought before. A disagreement or two in the past, Berkut had raised his voice, perhaps once he had even broken a small carving in his frustration, but nothing like this. It was not a “fight” in the sense that Rinea had transgressed against Berkut, but that Rinea had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time, and became the recipient for all of Berkut’s displaced anger. The rage and shame of the moment had blinded him, and only when he had stormed off in the wake of a slammed door did he he recall Rinea’s widened eyes, the tears shimmering in them as he shouted, and her fear. She had looked at him as if she didn’t recognize him, as if he had been a crazed beast ready to tear her apart. And perhaps that was what he had become. She did not deserve it.       His face felt sticky with the tears he had let dry on his cheeks, and his stomach twisted with the shameful memory of what he had done to her - replaying unbearably now in his head even as he destroyed straw effigies in the training grounds to ignore it. His hand had not belonged to him in that moment, it had not been his will that had commanded it to strike her. It… couldn’t have been…       It was Alm’s fault.       It was Alm’s fault that Berkut had slipped up and thrown the battle. It was Alm’s fault that his uncle didn’t trust him. It was Alm’s fault that he had hurt Rinea. And now he was hearing voices? It was Alm’s fault.       His fault, and no one else’s.       Growling through his teeth, Berkut thrust his lance into the figure and ripped it from its base, throwing it on top of three others similarly maimed. When he reached up to dab the sweat from his face, his fingers instead wicked fresh tears, and he brought his hand away to gaze at the wetness on his fingertips with mild surprise. As if in a daze, he wandered to a nearby bench and took up a cloth to wipe the rest away.       Without his conscious input, he set aside his lance, absentmindedly dropped the cloth, and allowed his feet to carry him inside. Rinea's door appeared before him as if conjured from a dream, and the realization knotted his stomach so tightly that he was convinced that he would lose what little he had eaten that day. But the wave passed, and with a steadying inhale, he knocked on the heavy wood.       “Rinea? It’s me. … May I enter?”

[ofsaintsandlove-blog]

🌼

🌼- Caring for some plants

Sleep seemed to be so far away, even in the early mornings alone with her own thoughts. At some point, when the moon was still rising, she awoke, shaking, shivering, and pacing from the night terrors. What if he is injured? What if he’s alone and dying? What if he found…?

Tatiana shook her head, stopping in her pacing. No… He promised that he would stay with me… no matter what. 

Wandering through the halls, she came across one of the castle’s gardens, the flowers swaying delicately in the gentle breeze. Without thinking of it, she found a small pot full of water and opened the doors leading to the outside.

It was cold, of course, having forgotten her warm cloak inside, but she didn’t mind. Her stocking-covered feet pattered softly on the stone floor as she approached the flowerbed. She gently touched one of the petals, admiring how silky smooth they were.

With slightly shaking hands, she tilted the pot enough to let a small stream of water trickle down.

“There we go,“ The woman murmurs. “Drink up and grow strong.“

The doors creak open slightly, revealing another woman. Tatiana smiles slightly at her,

“Ah, Lady Rinea. It is good to see you. May I ask why you are up so early?“

[whiteduneprince-blog]

local Prince of Jehanna loses money gambling

[OOC: Sounds about right for him.]

It was a real prince to pauper story this morning when Joshua, prince of Jehanna, lost all the money he had on hand this morning while gambling. When reached for comment, the prince simply said, “They need it more than I do.”

[princessarchanea]

🍪 just a couple noble women eatin cookies, talking about their lovers

Furia Port was busy for an isolated merchant town, thanks to its business with distant Valentia across the ocean. Yet its very isolation made it a place untouched by the war currently raging across Archanea, and peace was something Nyna longed for in these trying times.

She’d been given leave to vacation here by Hardin, her protector. For her safety, only a select few knew where she was. The princess enjoyed the freedom afforded her by this relative lack of scrutiny, but she missed the prior times she’d been allowed to so indulge. For back then she’d had her general at her side and nothing to fear–

But she was alone now, and even with her magic, she could not allow herself to be so reckless without a protector. And so she reluctantly forwent her finest clothes and her silk-bounded hair, all to avoid undue attention. Bad enough to be a noblewoman so far from home; even worse to be the holy princess in the midst of war.

When she chanced upon another noblewoman acting similarly to her, shy and furtive and (for the time being) alone in an unfamiliar place, she immediately felt drawn to her. Perhaps it was merely their shared social status or the subtle air of foreignness to her, but Nyna thought she saw something else she recognized in the girl and was seized by curiosity.

She broke from the wandering crowd to meet her, surprising herself with her boldness. Perhaps General Camus had  rubbed off on her more than she had realized.

“Hello there, miss,” she greeted with a dip of her head. “Are you perhaps new to this place?”

[perceptiveknight-blog]

A beep from Rinea (softspokenrigelian)

Send “beep” for 9. A concerned text

White morning sunlight peeked between the curtains opposite his bed, casting the entire room in a snowy hue. A gentle breeze whispered by, bringing with it the familiar scent of peppermint and evergreen. For a moment, Belf forgot his austere Valentian apartment and imagined instead that he lay in the Rigel company guest rooms, awaiting a familiar blue-haired heiress’s greeting.

He’d accepted a transfer job with Rigel Corporation that spring, but fallen ill shortly after his arrival in fall. Though he’d known that Valentia was much chillier than Grust, he’d overestimated his health since leaving the military and paid for it with pneumonia. She’d taken an interest in him almost from the day he was brought in, and brought him teas and soups roughly once a day. She even engaged him in conversation as he began to recover his strength. Her name was Rinea, he learned, and she was engaged to a Rigel executive, Berkut. She enjoyed dancing, and confessed that she had sought him out in hopes that he could teach her some Archanean moves.

She led him to a ballroom in the company headquarters, where he took her hands in his and guided her around. He’d learned to dance as part of his upbringing, but his skills had become rusty with age. Thankfully, Rinea was a quick learner; it wasn’t long before she could lead him instead of just the other way around. Time seemed to fly by when he danced with her… but of course, it wasn’t meant to last.

Before long, he began to feel that he was being watched. His suspicions were confirmed when he saw a sullen black-haired lad lurking among the pillars.

The lad returned to the ballroom the next time they entered it; he returned again the time after. Belf did not enjoy the way his eyes bored into his back as he danced with Rinea, too intensely to be born of mere curiosity. He knew without asking that this was her beloved, here to lay claim to what was his.

No matter. He was running out of moves to teach her, and thanks to her help, the pneumonia that had brought him here was already past.

So that night he sat on the edge of his bed, pondering how best to break off the sessions. The message he settled on was too blunt by half, but perhaps it was for the better.

[sent - 9:28 PM] Thank you for keeping me company during my illness. I truly enjoyed our time together. But I think it might be best if we stopped meeting up… Someone close to you does not take kindly to my presence. I would hate for that to affect you.

The next morning, in accordance with his message, Rinea did not return to greet him. After a hopeful pause, he rose and padded about the HQ, taking in its opulent decor and halls. This would probably be the last time he set foot in this place… the last time he saw her.

Even if he did not admit it aloud… he would miss her dearly.

He passed by the ballroom in which they’d danced once more. Music emanated from behind its walls; the physician paused to listen in. It was a Valentian ballad of spring, one of Rinea’s favorites. He had no doubt who was dancing behind those doors. And he knew with equal certainty who she was dancing with.

He gave a long sigh and stepped away. His time here with her had been a dream. And thus it had to remain, forever.