#v:queen

[notnearlysopicky]

Marketa stood on the balcony that led out from her private quarters, watching the gardens below. It was a peaceful morning, the desert sun not yet having made the air so hot as to drive her inside. And though she was physically in the palace, her mind traveled far past the dunes she could see on the horizon, imaging the wonders that lie there. It was a silly albeit shameful thing to be thinking of. She was the queen of Agrabah of all things; she had responsibilities and a duty to serve the people and, of course, a family she could never leave behind, both here in Agrabah and at home in Kalrashid. And yet. . .

Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a sound behind her. She turned away from the railing, passing through the gossamer curtains to the room beyond. Her eyes fell upon an overturned perfume bottle, it's contents now dripping off the side of the dressing table though the bottle itself was still intact. Instead of getting annoyed, an amused sigh escaped her lips as she crossed the room. She righted the bottle, replacing the stopper, and glanced about the room for the familiar head of black hair. "Come out, Jasmine," she called gently. "I know it was you playing with my things."

[notnearlysopicky]

يللا تنام ريما || Yalla Tnam Rima

A breeze stirred the cool night air, catching the delicate curtains that hung across the arch leading to the queen’s balcony. The nightly calm that had settled over the desert seemed to halt in the shadows, scared to reveal itself in wake of an infant’s fatigued cries. “Hush, now,” the queen whispered as she sat by the cradle. She stroked the soft skin of the baby’s arm. “You’re alright.”

The child was often fussy at this time of night, as if she sensed her mother’s exhaustion and sought to capitalize on it for some unknown purpose. There was little that could be done to soothe her, but the queen couldn’t bare the cries for much longer. She gently lifted the child from the cradle, laying her daughter’s head against her shoulder as she rocked gently back and forth. Her attention was drawn toward the curtain flowing gently in the breeze.

“Oh, little one, you must sleep,” the queen sighed, rubbing the child’s back as she crossed from the light of the lamps into the dim moonlight. The change of atmosphere was enough to put the woman at ease, if not the child. She began to hum softly as she reached the railing, looking down at the fountains glistening in the gardens below. Her voice rose ever so slightly as words intertwined with the melody.

       I will take you on a little journey                To a place where there are prunes under the apricot tree        And each time the wind blows,                I will pick an apricot for Rima

The child seemed to settle, soothed by her mother’s voice. The queen sighed to herself in relief as she hugged the child closer.

        Hey Lina, lend us your kettle and a bowl               So that we can wash Rima’s clothes and hang them on                           The jasmine tree

Sources:

Translated Lyrics

Version

[herunfailingkindness]

Make Me Whole || Margaery + Robb

                                                 [I'm                                                           here                                                                   again]

       She can still remember when her brother told her she would wed a king. She had been a child then. Willas had come to her bedside and brushed her hair back softly, telling her that she would be queen, The Queen. And to think she wanted it. Now she was a woman grown and she wished she could take it all back. Her wedding to King Renly had been extravagant and beautiful, but her wedding to King Joffrey was even more so. Every kind of food and drink laid out before them. Rumors swirled around the court during her wedding feast.

           The Young Wolf was on the move, The Young Wolf was dead, The Young Wolf...was captured by Lannister forces.

        Margaery learned soon after her coronation the truth of the matter. The Young Wolf was now their prisoner.

         Weeks would pass before she was allowed to witness just what was happening to The King in The North.

                                             [A thousand miles                                                              away from you]

       Heavy is the head that wears the crown, and her head felt so very heavy today of all days. "Bring him in!" Joffrey's voice is almost gleeful when the members of the kingsguard drag The Young Wolf in. Her brown eyes rested on his form, breathing shallowly, as he was pushed to the floor. She observed him, watching as a wound in his back opened up and bled red. She followed the river of red it made down his frame. She could feel his Tully Blue eyes on her, watching her breathe. He was looking at her, but not into her eyes. Looking though her, as if he expected something of her. As if he could.

        He rose to stand and Margaery could honestly say that she was impressed. His resilience, his courage and drive. 'If only that he wasn't in pain for it.' She thought as Joffrey yelled out. "Hit him again! Again!"

        Margaery closed her eyes, she couldn't watch this anymore. While she was not able to say or do anything for him here, she could help him later. Bring him bits of bread, a wine skin if she was lucky.

        She usually was, her brother was guarding his door, he would let her though with a glance that said, he would keep her safe.

                                          [A broken mess,                                                   just scattered pieces of                                                          who                                                              I                                                               am]

         Leaving her chambers quietly, she slipped down the empty quiet hallway and toward the passageway she had found. Pressing her back to it, she walked down the stone stairs one by one, her breath soft as she pulled her cloak around her shoulder's tighter. Looking up at Loras as he let her in, she reached for his hand softly. He pressed a kiss to her temple and whispered. "Soon..." Swallowing she nodded quickly before slipping into the dungeon.

          Pressing her fingers to the bars lightly, she whispered,

                       "Lord Stark, I brought you all that I could..."

[thecompassionatequeen-blog]

How'd you land a hubby like Arthur, Gwen?

"Well, I suppose one would say that he liked it… so he put a ring on it.."

//I tried so hard to take this seriously, anon. I apologize.

[thecompassionatequeen-blog]

+4

       All she had wanted was a simple ride, to clear her head. Away from the hustle and bustle of palace life. She wanted only to be Gwen, at least for a day. Her long curls bounced in time with the clicking of the hooves of her horse. It was out of the corner of her eye that she noticed a figure. She dismounted the animal, hands still on the reigns as she tried to get a better look at whoever was there. 

          "Hello? Is someone there?"