What is your characters home? A place, a person, a smell, a memory? Do they still have it, or is it lost? Happy or painful? How does it feel to return?
For @yourocsbackstory prompts. Experimenting with Wes's voice and these questions were just incredibly inspiring.
My home has always been my brother.
Maybe that sounds a little ungrateful. Being happy enough to have a home, being born into a family that could keep me knowing who I am going to become is lucky enough.
The village is giant and full of space, surrounded by mountain air and thick forest. The training grounds are in the middle, between all the houses, the most important part of everyone's life.
My house is huge, smooth wood and linen for the walls. You feel alone and connected to everything that's going on, learn to be quiet and not be disturbed by movement of others.
But all that would have felt empty and foreign and full of pressure if not for Kyler. Somehow just by being there, with his trademark smirk and hands dissapprovingly crossed, always in that stupid formal black coat, makes every corner of the world more welcoming.
My brother, my keeper. Assigned from early age to keep an eye on me, and not just in the older sibling way. People treat me like a ticking bomb, my parents treat me like a jewel arrowhead, but he treats me like a person...and somehow it makes all the difference.
Makes the cold air warmer, the terse walls of my beautiful cage comfortable and the future a little more hopeful. It makes me forget the yearning for the sky, the dreams of flying and meeting someone like me one day.
He was my anchor.
I just didn't expect to float away right after the rope was cut.
A little something for @yourocsbackstory ‘s December prompt list. I actually wrote this back in September, but I think it fits the prompt regardless. Ok it’s set after the latest d&d campaign, but it counts as backstory for future works because it sets up the adopted family thing.
Context: Set around the Winter’s Feast holiday (Titan’s equivalent of Christmas) about 3 years following the events of an attempt at Ragnarok . Let’s just say some of the intricacies of dwarven law take a while to sort out.
Even though snow covered most of the ground and the branches of the tree, the holly bush and mistletoe bunches were in full swing. Edwin gingerly cut some bunches of holly from the bush nearest the door to the little house on the corner of the grounds of the Garden of Galana. While winter was not his favourite season, he still appreciated the beauty of the plants that were able to thrive during this time. He looked up at the sound of small feet crunching the snow nearby. He looked up and smiled at the young girl who had walked up to him,
“Lady Selene said that lunch was ready, Faither.” she said, fiddling with the end of the white and blue scarf around her neck. Edwin nodded, putting his clippers into the pocket of his cloak,
“Thank you Caitr.” he said, pulling himself to his feet and placing the holly into a basket near the bush, “I’m going to be making some wreaths a bit later, do you want to help?” he asked, gesturing to the basket. Caitr nodded enthusiastically, a bright smile forming beneath the wispy beard that had started growing in,
“I’d like that very much.” she said, picking up the basket and following her adoptive father back inside the house.
“I hope you’re both hungry, I think I made a little too much for just the three of us.” Selene said as Edwin shut the door behind him and took off his boots. She looked over to a high chair that was already occupied by the pudgy form of the youngest member of the little family. She sighed patiently as she noticed the 14 month old was giving Chrackle almost half of the food on her plate,
“Bridget, sweetie, don’t give Chrackle all your food.” she sighed, walking over and shooing the magpie away. She looked up at the bird, who had perched on a beam not too far away, “And you should know better.” she admonished. The magpie clacked his beak and chuckled irritably. Selene snorted as she returned her attention to the fussing baby, “You get fed plenty. Besides, you can find your own food if you’re still hungry later.” Caitr hopped onto one of the seats around the table, and watched the scene with interest.
“I know Chrackle can speak a little, but how do you know what he’s saying all the time?” she asked, swinging her feet under the table. Selene glanced over her shoulder at the older girl and smiled,
“Since Chrackle is my familiar, we share a mental link.” she said, “It’s a little bit like telepathy, but not quite. How it works exactly is a bit complicated for me to explain right now, but that’s the basic gist.” Caitr thought about this for a few moments, her brow furrowing slightly,
“Does it work for all animals?” she asked. Selene hummed thoughtfully, attempting to stop Bridget from throwing her bread onto the floor just underneath Chrackle.
“Bridget, don’t throw your bread on the floor. Chrackle has had enough.” The wizard returned her attention to Caitr, “To answer your question though Caitr, it only works between a wizard, sorcerer, or any other person who can cast magic, and their personal familiar.” she explained, “I don’t think the type of animal really matters. I’ve know wizards and sorcerors who have had other types of animal as familiars, and they all seem to share the same kind of mental link.” Edwin placed a bowl of steaming soup in front of the girl as she mulled this new information over,
“Do you choose your familiar or is it more like Elowyn and Aurianna?” she asked. Selene shook her head as she finally got Bridget to start eating her food rather than playing with it,
“Elowyn and Aurianna are a very special case, even for a paladin and their mount.” she replied, “As for why Chrackle, in particular, is my familiar, we kind of chose each other not long after I started training as a Wizard.” Caitr opened her mouth to ask another question, but Edwin interrupted her,
“A story for another time, I think.” he said, “Come on now, your soup’s going to get cold.” he encouraged. Caitr pouted slightly and sighed, while Selene sent Edwin a grateful smile,
“Thank you for getting that, Edwin. Unfortunately, Bridget here is being a proper little pickle.” she said, leaning in and tickling the baby, causing her to squeal in delight. The wizard finally settled for distracting the youngest member of their family with some Dancing Lights while the rest of them ate, chatting happily about the upcoming Feast Day.
~*~
Later that afternoon, Edwin and Caitr started making the wreaths to display around the church. While the half-dwarf didn’t quite have the same skill as her adoptive father, she persevered. The little girl looked up at the bearded man,
“Faither, do you think I could keep one of these?” she asked, suddenly quite sombre. Edwin paused in wrapping some wire around the wreath he was making,
“Of course you can.” he replied, “What’s brought this on?” he asked gently. Caitr fiddled a little with the thread between her fingers, looking down at the gold strand and trying not to let Edwin see the tears forming in her eyes,
“I just thought mama would like one.” she said quietly. The cleric made a small ‘ah’ sound in response. He put his work down and reached across the table to lay a hand on top of Caitr’s,
“Do you want some help to make it extra-special for her?” he asked. Caitr’s brown eyes met Edwin’s blue. She nodded slowly,
“I’d like that.” she said quietly. Edwin smile,
“Alright. Let me finish this one first, then I’ll help you with yours.” he said, “Did you want to add something special to it?” Caitr looked down at the wreath in her hands and thought for a moment or two,
“Mama liked bell heather and thistles.” she said slowly, “But I don’t know if we can find any in the middle of winter.” Edwin stroked his beard, an affectation he had picked up in his time living in Fangthane.
“While I haven’t found a place to grow any here in Toreguarde yet, I do believe that the flower shop just down the street sells heather and thistles.” he said, “If we’re lucky, the lady who runs it will have some of both flowers in stock.” Caitr looked up at the cleric and sent him a small smile,
“Thank you, Faither.” Edwin ruffled the sandy hair, earning him a squeak of protest. He laughed as Caitr tried to bat his hands away,
“Stoppit!” she squealed, “Ye’re messin’ up ma hair.” Edwin stopped and grinned at his daughter,
“Go and get your outdoor clothes and brush your hair again. There’s just enough time to go over now, if we’re quick.” he told her. Caitr, beamed as she attempted to smooth her hair down with her hands. Then she sped off, slipping a little on the flagstones in the kitchen and clambering up the stairs as quickly as she could manage. Edwin winced as he heard Bridget start to cry at the noise her big sister had made as she thundered through the house.
“Caitr! What have I said about running in the house?” Selene’s voice yelled from the sitting room, over the sound of the baby half-dwarf crying. There was another, more muffled statement, which sounded something like ‘Dear Gods, I’m starting to sound like my mother.’ Edwin got up from his seat, wandered into the hall and poked his head around the door to the sitting room. Selene had already picked Bridget up and was rocking and bouncing her in an attempt to calm her down again,
“Hush, now. It’s alright.” she cooed. The wizard noticed Edwin from the corner of her eye, “What was all that in aid of anyway?” she asked. Edwin grimaced a little and rubbed the back of his head,
“Sorry about that. Caitr wanted to make a wreath for her mother and wanted to add some of her favourite flowers to it.” he explained, “I might have mentioned that the flower shop down the street might have them in stock and that we could go and see if the owner had any in.” he added. Selene hummed as Bridget finally stopped crying and hiccoughed as she leaned into her mother’s chest,
“That’s a really nice gesture. If Caitr wants, we could make this an annual thing.” she suggested. Edwin nodded,
“I’ll ask her while we’re out.” he said, “It’s still a bit of a touchy subject, but I think Caitr is finally willing to give us a little bit of leeway.” Selene nodded,
“Can you see if the butcher has any geese in as well? I think Oakrose said something about needing another one because of some extra potential guests.” Edwin shook his head as Caitr bounded down the stairs,
“I would ask, but I fear what the answer’s going to be.” he mused. The Abounna turned to the young girl, “Let me get my boots and coat back on, then we can go.” Caitr nodded and turned her attention to Selene,
“I’m sorry for waking Bridget up.” she said, “I forgot it was her nap time.” Selene gave her a patient smile,
“I’d rather you didn’t run in the house at all,” she said, “but I understand that you were excited.” Caitr nodded and gently scuffed her foot lightly across the floor,
“Yes, Lady Selene.” she murmured. Selene merely shook her head as Caitr was shortly distracted by Edwin’s return. As the two of them left, chattering happily, Selene gingerly put Bridget back in the crib, telekinetically grabbed a book and settled down to read.
~*~
The following morning brought along another snowstorm. Nothing too severe, but bad enough that Edwin had to ask Selene if he could borrow one of the wizard’s tower students to help him clear the paths up to the temple so that his own acolytes and any worshippers brave enough to face the weather could actually get into the building. Caitr and Bridget were left in the care of Oakrose and Ashbury for the day, so that meant Edwin could concentrate on sorting out the afternoon service.
“Abounna, there’s someone in the vestibule who wants to see you.” the round face of one of the younger human acolytes popped around the door to Edwin’s office, “I know you’re busy, but he said it was important.” Edwin nodded and put his quill down,
“Thank you Annika, can you please tell our visitor that I’ll be with them shortly and take them through to one of the side rooms for me?” he requested. Annika nodded,
“Is there anything else you require for now, Abounna?” she asked. Edwin thought for a moment,
“Can you get our guest a warm drink? It’s quite cold out and I’m sure they’ll appreciate one.” Annika bobbed a curtsey and quickly left. Edwin stretched as he stood, sighing in relief as he felt several ‘pops’ along his back, as he did. He chuckled to himself, “Looks like I’m getting a little old to sit in one position for hours any more.” The cleric tidied up his desk, dusted down his vestments and swept out of the little room and through to the main vestibule of the temple. He paused briefly, to acknowledge the statue of Galana, then quickly made his way to the side room, where his mystery guest was waiting for him.
Edwin did not know what he expected, but it certainly wasn’t a dwarf wearing official looking robes with an armoured escort, who was clad in what the Abounna recognised as heavily runed Kingsguard armour. The robed dwarf looked up as Edwin entered and sent the human a broad smile,
“Good mornin’ Abounna. Been a while since I last saw ye. Ye’re looking well.” he greeted. Edwin returned the smile,
“And good morning to you Magistrate Steelheart.” he said, “I must admit that I wasn’t expecting to see a visitor from Fangthane any time soon. Is ought the matter?” he asked. The magistrate shook his head,
“Aside fi’ the weather, there’s nowt wrang that I ken aboot.” he responded, “I’m actually here on official business.” he said. He jerked his head towards the Kingsguard, “Tha High Council insisted I bring someone with.” he added with a snort. Edwin shrugged,
“Unfortunately, there’s still a lot of work to be done to make sure everyone is safe and comfortable.” he noted, “The High Council are just playing it safe.” the dwarf muttered a little under his breath, but finally stood and pulled a sealed envelope out of his cloak,
“Well, I might as well gie ye this. It took a bit fer it tae work its way through the Courts, there wis a bit o’ an argument which lasted aboot five months afore it wis sorted.” Edwin took the heavy envelope with a frown and cracked open the seal on the back. The Magistrate sat back down and took a gulp of his drink, watching the Abounna’s expression carefully. Edwin frowned as he scanned over the first piece of parchment, his expression slowly brightening as he read further through it. He noticed there was another, slightly smaller envelope underneath it addressed to Caitr, along with another page of parchment. He beamed as he read it,
“This is going to make Selene’s day, no mistake there. She’s gotten very attached to the two of them.” The Magistrate chuckled,
“I thought that would be some welcome news. I’m just sorry it took this long tae get everythin’ sorted.” Edwin shook his head,
“It’s no trouble, I know these things take a lot of time to get sorted out.” he replied. The Magistrate snorted,
“Would hae been half as long if the family wernae sae large.” he huffed, “As it wis, the mother had been estranged from her folks so lang that the whole process wis more or less just a formality.” Edwin let out a long breath through his nose,
“As much as I would have loved Caitr and Bridget to have known their extended biological family, it’s probably best that we don’t try to push it.” Steelheart nodded,
“Aye, that it is. The poor lassies have been through enough withoot involvin’ folks that dinnae want tae acknowledge their existence. Besides, it’s no’ like the folks in Fangthane dinna ken who ye are.” he added with a wink. The kingsguard, who had stayed silent during the whole exchange, looked over to Edwin and stroked his woody brown beard thoughtfully,
“I’m glad someone wis willin’ tae look aifter them. There’s far too much nonsense aboot this whole situation as is.” he said. Edwin looked over to him and shrugged,
“There is.” he agreed, “At least now Caitr should stop having nightmares about someone dragging her off in the middle of the night.” The Magistrate drained his drink and stood, holding out his hand towards the Abounna,
“Well, congratulations Abounna, I wish you and yer new family a’ the best. I’d best get goin’ afore the weather gets ony worse.” Edwin took the hand and shook it firmly,
“Thank you for bringing the news, Magistrate.” he replied happily, “I’m assuming you have lodgings already secured in the city?” he asked. Steelheart nodded,
“Aye, I’ve got a room at an inn in the centre of the city.” he replied, “I’ll be stayin’ until the weather lets up enough fer me tae travel back mair safely.” Edwin smiled as he opened the door,
“Well, I hope you manage to get to the inn without issue. Have a nice day Magistrate.” He blessed the two dwarves as they exited the room, then looked down at the papers in his hand with a large grin. He walked out of the meeting room and waved down one of his acolytes, a young man with dark brown hair,
“Ah, Simon. Can you send a message to the library at the wizard’s tower for me?” he asked. The other man nodded,
“Of course Abounna.” he said with a bow. Edwin scribbled a note with some spare parchment and a quill he managed to fish out of his vestments,
“Can you please ask Miss Frigidwake to come home for lunch today, please? I’ve included the reason why in the note.” he explained, handing the piece of parchment to the teen. Simon bowed politely,
“Of course Abounna. However, given the turn the weather’s taken, it might be wise to close up early for today. I don’t think anyone’s going to manage any travel in that.” he pointed to the window next to the front door of the temple. Sure enough, the blizzard had worsened to the point it was more or less a whiteout. Edwin grumbled, but nodded,
“I see your point.” he sighed, “In which case, can you please ensure that all the fireplaces are kept stoked throughout the rest of the day and ask some of the others to assist in sorting out some temporary accommodations for the worshippers and staff that need it?” Simon bowed deeply,
“As you wish Abounna.” he said, scurrying off to complete said tasks. Edwin went back to his office and pulled out some other documents to read while he waited. It wasn’t long before the lanky form of Selene appeared in the doorframe, silver dust falling from her hair,
“Sorry about this Edwin. Had to close up the library early because of the weather.” Edwin shook his head as he turned in his seat,
“I’m surprised it took you this long.” he noted, “I’ve got some of the staff setting up cots and blankets for the people that ended up trapped here, so we should be able to head home without issue.” Selene re-tied her hair,
“We’ve had to do the same at the tower.” she said quickly waving away the silver dust on the floor with a flick of her wrist, “Jin insisted on staying there and helping out, so it left the rest of my day free.” Edwin nodded, grabbed the envelope the Magistrate had given him and handed it to Selene. Selene frowned in mild confusion as she took it while Edwin leaned on the back of his chair,
“I had a visitor pop by from Fangthane about fifteen minutes ago.” he said casually. Selene arched an eyebrow at the comment, pausing for a moment before opening the envelope fully and pulling out the parchment inside. Edwin waited as Selene read through the letter, a broad smile appearing on her freckled face. She looked over to Edwin,
“I was half-expecting this to take until at least Unlocking before we heard anything.” she said, trying to keep some measure of composure, but Edwin could see her excitement in the slight bouncing of her leg. He beamed at her,
“I think we’d best go and pick the girls up from Oakrose and let Caitr see the other letter, don’t you?” he suggested, getting up and looping an arm around the wizard’s waist. Selene nodded and planted a kiss on the cleric’s cheek,
“Absolutely!” she exclaimed, handing Edwin the paperwork back and grabbing a fistful of silver powder from one of her many pockets and throwing it at their feet.
~*~
The little family were sat by the fire in the front sitting room, Selene rocking Bridget off to sleep while Edwin sat on the floor next to Caitr.
“Caitr, do you remember what I told you when you first came to stay with us?” he asked the child. Caitr nodded,
“Aye, ye said that ye’d always make sure I had someone tae look after and care fer me.” she said, “And that you and Lady Selene would like fer me to stay with youse if my mama’s family said I could.” Edwin nodded,
“I had a visitor at the temple from Fangthane today.” he said slowly, taking the letter addressed to the little girl from out of his cloak, “He said I needed to give you this.” Caitr took a hold of the envelope and frowned at it,
“What is it?” she asked dubiously. Edwin, somehow, managed to only smile encouragingly,
“Why don’t you open it and find out?” he suggested, “If you need some help, I can read it to you.” he added. Caitr looked down at the envelope again and tore it open, taking out the parchment and looking at it intently. After a few moments, she handed the letter to Edwin,
“It’s got lots of big words.” she muttered. Edwin took the offered letter, held it out in front of him and started to read it out loud,
Dear Caitr,
My name is Magistrate Steelheart, and I’ve been the person who’s been asked by Abounna Goodwin and Lady Frigidwake if you can live with them permanently. Since your mother was a dwarf that has living family in Fangthane, I needed to find out if any of them wanted to look after you and your baby sister before I could tell them if you could.
I am writing to let you know that, after talking to a lot of different and very important people, that the High Council of Fangthane has agreed that you and your sister can permanently live with Abounna Goodwin and Lady Frigidwake.
As such, your records in Fangthane have been updated to record you as Caitr Anabla Goodwin-Frigidwake and your baby sister as Bridget Erin Goodwin-Frigidwake. If you wish to keep your biological mother’s surname, please ask Either Abounna Goodwin or Lady Frigidwake to let us know as soon as possible.
In the meantime, I hope you and your sister are well and I wish all of you the best for the future.
Kind Regards,
Magistrate Reuben Steelheart.
Official of the Courts of Fangthane.
Edwin looked up at Caitr, who was still frowning a little as she took the whole thing in.
“What does perma.. Perama… thingy mean?” she asked.
“Permanently.” Selene automatically corrected from her seat. Caitr nodded,
“Yeah… that.” Edwin smiled patiently,
“It means that you and Bridget are going to be living with me and Selene from now on.” he explained, “No one is going to just turn up one day and take you away.” Caitr took a moment to process this new information. Eventually she looked up at Edwin, her expression thoughtful,
“So… you’re my papa now?” she asked innocently. Edwin could already feel the giddy smile Selene was sending his way. He nodded,
“More or less.” he replied, “We’re not going to replace your mama though, you can call both Selene and me whatever name you feel most comfortable with.” Caitr nodded, then looked over to her baby sister,
“What about Bridget? She’s too little to know about mama.” she asked nervously. Selene glanced down at the sleeping baby before sending the young girl a reassuring smile,
“When Bridget is a bit older, we can tell her all about her mama together.” she said, “Maybe you could help us make a little storybook or something like that for her?” Caitr thought about the suggestion,
“Maybe.” she said. There was a few moment’s silence as Caitr thought some more. Neither Edwin nor Selene said anything, clearly this was all a lot for the half-dwarf to take in. Eventually Caitr looked up and gestured to Selene with a bright smile,
“I know, so I don’t get confused, I’ll call Lady Selene, mummy. I heard some of the other boys and girls call their mamas that.” she exclaimed. She turned her attention to Edwin, “I think I’ll just call you papa though. Mama didn’t like my first one very much.” Edwin chuckled and glanced over to Selene, who nodded,
“I guess that settles that.” he said, “Do you want to keep the letter, or shall I?” he asked, holding the letter out to the young girl. Caitr cocked her head,
“I’ll put it in my ‘special things’ drawer.” she said, gently taking the parchment and looking at the seal at the bottom with extreme interest. Edwin let her take it and slowly uncurled himself to stand,
“I think I’d better start making us some dinner then.” he said, wincing as he felt the pins and needles in his foot from sitting on it for so long. Selene gestured to Bridget, who was sleeping soundly,
“Give me a minute to put Bridget in her crib, then I’ll come and give you a hand.” She looked over to Caitr, “Can you help Chrackle keep an eye on your sister for us?” she asked. Caitr looked up at the ceiling, where Chrackle was perched on one of the beams. She nodded,
“Yes mummy.” she said, “I’ll go and get my colouring pictures first.” With that the eight year old dashed off, quietly, up the stairs. Selene chuckled a little,
“That’s going to take some getting used to.” she mused. Edwin, in the meantime, hummed happily to himself as he cut up some vegetables, blissfully ignoring the howling wind outside.
My next piece for the @yourocsbackstory Antagonist event!
I used to have a very pleasant and friendly relationship with his majesty. I was willing to give him my advice and he took that counsel always, seeing my reasoning as wise and for the best.
I even considered him a friend, despite the difference in our positions. He never pulled rank on me, for any reason, and his family know and trust me as a good friend to all of them.
Well. He pulled rank on me once.
I remember the very day that I saw everything differently. The moment the lens of disillusionment shattered before my very eyes, and I realised just how much I don't see eye to eye with his majesty.
"You reached a decision, your majesty?" I asked, holding out his sash for him to take from me.
The King was stood in front of the mirror in his office, getting himself prepared for the portrait that will be painted of him just this afternoon. Of course I was making sure that he looked presentable, given that he is also celebrating his daughter's 10th birthday today.
"I have, Juliusz," he replied, taking the sash from me and slipping it over his head. I ensured that it was perfectly straight for him at the back whilst he did from the front. "I feel it best to deny the request."
I admit, I was taken aback by his response, but I know my position well enough to not make a fuss about it.
"May I enquire why, your majesty?"
He fiddled with the cufflinks on his blood red coat, not even looking me in the eyes through the mirror, before he turned about and made his way to the door. "Because I do not approve of becoming a surveillance state. I do not wish to be known for being the King that strangled and stifled his subjects."
I followed him out of the door, and down the corridor, back to the throne room where the King is expected to be with his family. We passed a few of the Royal Guard, whom all stop and salute as he approaches and passes. They don't expect any acknowledgement, nor do they get one. As we passed the last pair, I can't help but notice how his jacket is crooked. A disgrace, certainly, and if I wasn't following His Majesty I would have stopped to ensure he makes himself presentable this instant.
"But sire, surely that is a small price to pay to quell the recent rise of terrorist cells?" I countered, "you saw the damage they did to the Stare Miasto, we're lucky it was contained. If your subjects are not with these terrorists, then they have nothing to fear."
"I appreciate your thoughts on the matter, General, but my decision stands. I refuse to allow my subjects to be recorded and monitored under dubious circumstances. What would happen if the wrong person were to gain access to these surveillance archives? Use it to search for people in their own interests? No, it's much safer to keep things the way they are."
"I am trying to keep them safe too, by deterring would-be-terrorists from planning attacks they know we are watching them. You think that not ensuring they are properly monitored and tracked is going to be safer in the long run?"
"I think, General, that my subjects have a right to walk down the road without being recorded in that action. Into their homes, the homes of their families, friends. I certainly wouldn't like it."
"I'm afraid I disagree, your majesty."
Our arrival at the throne room - fully adorned for the celebration taking place today - is what prompts the King to stop, turn around and face me. Ignoring his wife and daughter for the moment, even though they are stood off to the side, waiting for his arrival.
"This discussion is over, General. I am not speaking of this anymore. My decision is final. The request has been denied." His eyes are stern, with that look that he knows will end this argument. He doesn't need to say it, I am the King, because it's all over his face. Those brown eyes of his cold as steel.
I don't agree. I don't think this is wise.
I swore to serve him, and yet here, it's painfully clear to me that nothing I say will change his mind at all. Why would he disregard all my advice and counsel now? After the many years we have worked together, and he has always followed that advice.
I suppose I'm not used to being disagreed with.
"Yes, your majesty."
He nods, turning around to go join his family. I can just barely hear what he says to them.
"Sorry about the delay." His Majesty says to his loving wife - to his Queen- who barely pays me any mind as the three of them move to the spot where the artist is directing them to stand. Of course, she looks as radiant as ever in that long emerald dress, with the bare shoulders and silver gloves, not a crease on her.
"Nothing serious, I - Anjelika, stop fiddling with it."
The Queen's words are punctuated by her sharp comment to the Princess, stood between them scratching at her neck, where the neckline of the deep blue dress is. Long sleeved and flowing, it's certainly one of the more formal dresses that belongs to Her Royal Highness.
The Princess turns around to look at her mother, who had rested a hand on her shoulder. "But mother, it's itchy -"
"Don't fidget then, and it won't itch." The King responds, resting his hand on the Princess' other shoulder.
The Princess doesn't argue, merely clasps her hands together as instructed, and waits there whilst the artist offers his final requests for them to stand still, the blank canvas will not be like that for much longer.
An incredible tradition, that is. Something I know the King was looking forward to completing. He was 10 years old when he was painted before, a whole 27 years ago. His mother before him, her father before her. All a proud tradition for the Royal Family, and this won’t happen again until the young Princess herself has children of her own. The King always told me that he’ll never forget the day his first portrait was painted, not because of the enormous responsibility of the tradition, but because his younger brother had managed to stain his jacket just before the portrait was painted, and their mother was not impressed. The artist, at least, had the sense to quietly edit that out of the final portrait, but it’s still something he could look back on and smile.
I wonder how it would feel to be stood there. Not even for two of them, for just *one* portrait. Immortalised forever in ink and paint, hung proudly on the wall, for future generations to look at and revere just like we do now.
I wonder…
Just how likely it would be for me to be on the next one, stood beside His Majesty’s daughter. I wonder whether the King would even accept that kind of proposal from me, but at least he would know that his daughter would be in safe hands at least. With someone he can trust. Rather than some stranger, who would only want to marry her for her title.
Of course, it’s far too early to think about such things. But I still wonder.
This is my submission for week 1 for @yourocsbackstory ‘s event, with the prompt being Family. I’d also love to preface this by saying that Charles really does love his mother and vice versa despite what this scene may suggest.
Brief Definitions |
Ederosus - a teacher that educates in etiquette, politics, society, and other subjects, but also functions as a bodyguard to children of high status.
Week 1 | Charles vi Aetier
Charles turned eight years old when he meets children his age for the very first time. Well...at least according to his mother, but Charles rather fancied death than confessing that his ederosus, Erin, snuck him out multiple times to interact with children his age beyond the palace walls.
Of course, his birthday was a special celebration. Though celebrated every year, the eighth birthday marked the age in which Charles was deemed to be responsible enough to not make a fool of himself in front of important people. In the years before, tradition dictated that Charles only shows up for the first few hours of the gift-giving and feast before retiring to the harem where a more informal celebration would be held later. But now, Charles could stay for the entire formal ceremony. An exciting task at first, until his mother began urging him (read: order) to strike a conversation with other children.
“Do you see there, the boy with the mop of gold hair and blue garments?” He and his mother are sat on the raised dais overlooking the crowd, his father off somewhere talking to whatever ambassadors and foreign dignitaries to discuss something that Charles should be interested in but could care less about. “He is the Marquis of Rubello’s eldest son. He’s but a few months older than you, but I have heard that he is already making remarkable progress on his arcane studies. Why don’t you go talk with him?”
Charles shifts his gaze to the boy in question who was chattering away with the group of aristocratic children near the edges of the dance floor. His name is Darius if Charles remembered correctly. During the gift-giving, Lord Rubello made Darius personally present their gift--a well-crafted bow with runes carved for protection and durability--to Charles. The strained smile on the boy’s face in that classic ‘I don’t want to be here but my parents are forcing me’ look Charles knew intimately stuck out to him in more ways than one.
Charles grimaced. “Do I have to?”
“Of course you do,” his mother said, a slight frown on her pretty face.
“But what if he doesn’t like me? Or what if his friends don’t like me and Darius ends up following their lead?”
His mother stared at him, her bronze eyes sparkling in the shining lights of chandeliers like he is made of glass and she is boring through his every being to see each minuscule imperfection in his make and mold. She laughed, clear and crystalline, like silver bells.
“Oh Charles, you’re a prince. No matter if you were the most foolish person in the world, they hardly have a choice in liking you.” She layed a delicate hand, fingers shining with rings of precious stones, on his shoulders.
He flinched. An infinitesimal one, to be sure, but one that Consort Illysandre’s sharp eyes would fail to miss. She sighed, jeweled hand moving from Charles’ shoulders to card through his dark hair. “Forgive me for the poor word choice. However, I only speak truth. We as nobility are born to the highest of privilege, but that does not mean it never came at great cost.
“We can never hope for transparency, Charles. Intentions are always hidden behind sweet smiles, and our nature carefully tucked away behind finely crafted masks. Everyone desires something, and the higher you are, the more dangerous the game is.”
Charles grimaced. “So I’ll always be surrounded by liars?”
“Perhaps. Perhaps not,” she said. “Think of it this way: the friendships you cultivate now may as well gain you great allies in the future. People tend to be more honest with their close friends than anyone else. And, well, if you wish it, this may also be a lesson in learning which people will offer genuine companionship, or which will only use you for your title.”
It was...sound logic in Charles’ mind, however backward it seemed to a young boy his age. But Charles was a prince, so of course, such things as this would be normal for him. Even Erin said that his rank afforded him a different set of rules to abide by, so maybe this is one of those things?
But looking at Darius now, surrounded by future lords and ladies interacting with the familiarity of childhood friends that he’d once seen on the streets of East Vindercrest, Charles could only feel dread. Yet, more than that, he dreaded that stare from his mother even more. That stare of judgment, of expectations, of—
--disappointment.
His tongue felt like sand in his mouth. “I understand.”
He gets up from his place on the dais, painting on his winning smile that the old lady from the bakery said would make even the most jaded of folks soften, and marched off to socialize with children who may never learn to care for him beyond his crown.
Unbeknownst to him, his mother is already speaking different families and ambassadors to broker his marriage to a girl he’s never met.
This drabble will be a part of @yourocsbackstory and their backstory weeks prompts. I saw this around last year but missed the start so I hope to participate every prompt this time!
Week 0: Introduction
They had evacuated the last city at last. Worlds that had come far in their development were difficult; social media spread news fast and would cause panic if not handled faster than an image could be shared. That was the world the soldier had first, and last, seen her.
She had stood in the midst of a street and looked at the soldier, face covered with a mask that wouldn't even show her eyes, dressed in what looked to be the clothes of a circus director as well as a black top hat.
The soldier had raised their weapon because they knew every civilian had been evacuated and this being was not human. "What are you?" they demanded to know. She hadn't resembled the monsters that had been attacking the world but something wasn't right about her.
"I am what I need to be." Her reply hadn't given the soldier what they wanted. She twirled her around as if bored, and looked at her pocket watch. "You doomed yourself to all that is happening a long time ago." She had tilted her tophat and vanished in thin air. Moments after the black hole had exploded unexpectedly and swallowed everything, including the shuttles that carried a majority of the survivors.
The space she had vanished to had clocks in unimaginable numbers hanging from the ceiling. She had tossed the one she held into the dark around her and walked around the vast space. Here, they were still for here, time stood still.
A large mirror of ice towered in the dark and showed images of the ones she followed. Not many uncorrupted souls remained throughout the worlds but they would find each other. She would make it so. After all, she was the harbinger of souls. A voice for them to hear and follow.
Many of the spirits had been destroyed with the annihilation of their universe and perhaps the humans had thought that would be it and they would never have to pay for their horrible deed. Few of the spirits who had awakened were uncorrupted but she had to get the plan in motion and lead them anyway, few in numbers as they were. When they died, for she knew they would in these worlds so different from their own, she would console them. She would beg their forgiveness because she made them what they were and they would be reborn in the flames of justice.
She knew nothing of how it would all go. The details were unimportant to her, but she knew when they would die. Her magic had changed in this new form but she was still what she had been before and much more. Showrunner.
Damian looked at his fallen friend with sympathy. He felt pity for Junos, left to be alone. One side of him wants to help him, another side wants to bring him out of his misery.
"Damian!"
Called out Junos. He struggles to crawl to his former friend. His rotten limbs can't help but break down with each movement. He felt like Samael, Death himself, is watching his every movement.
He can't look. No, Damian couldn't look at his friend who he deeply cared for. Ever since Junos came from the stars, Damian has always have a glimpse of adoration for him. Images form inside his head, memories of the moments the two had together.
Damian held his head in pain as the "Imago" shows him multiple endings of the same exact paths, driving Damian mad. He just couldn't focus on one exact timeline to see. His head felt like exploding.
Junos recalled his last voyage, with the Iskatels. The bonds they had, the quest, all destroyed because of Noël's corruption. He felt the same way as Noël, seeing his last friend leaving him to rot.
Damian snapped from the mind cage of Images he created himself. He has gathered the will and the way to end this. Tears are visible in his eyes, only to evaporate under the great red aura he release.
He recall the day they finally ended Noel's rampage on the worlds. He finally saw Junos happy, free for once. That reminds him that they're all human after all.
"Danse Macabre won't halt for long. Junos, I am sorry."
Damian said weakly. He cover himself and Junos with egni before the red around Junos transmutes into yellow. Junos understands immediately. Despite the Mark of Cain's curse affecting him, he could resist it, returning to back before he attained the curse.
"Do it. Do you want to see me like Noël? You can do it, buddy! End this!"
Junos said before the curse took over him again. The curse driven Iskatel tries to break from the Genesian's seal.
"Goodbye, Dear friend. Until we meet again!"
Light covers the yellow seal, ending the process. Junos was no more, only a great glacier sealing the material body of Junos. His soul was sent to somewhere even Damian didn't know.
Damian dropped to the ground as he ran out of energy. His heart felt bland. A hole emerged in his soul. Another soul he cherished has vanished. He knelt down and weep. Each sobbing wets the ground beneath him with blood, sweat and tears.
The red king wept and wept, until he felt no more tear came out. He then forged a flower from shadows and left it before he returns back to his castle.
Well, I tried to make the scene, but it seems to be quite messy, and forced. Whelp, at least I tried.
Vivas, son of Alridia, is a morally ambiguous fae with power over water. Dirty blonde hair and bright blue eyes make him seem a lot brighter of a person than he truly is. His only family is his mother, sent mad with the death of his father - her mate - when he was a child, and his mate Nythilla - the story's antagonist. After being stabbed with an iron blade, he is mortal for most of the story. Which is irksome, since he holds nothing but contempt for the human race.
Elsie, daughter of Edeline, is a 19 year old Irish girl desperate for adventure, love and family. Her black hair and green eyes are an oddity where she resides with four Brownies on the outskirts of a small town near Galway, Síochána, where she was granted land after saving the patriarch of the town from a nasty infection. But with her strange tendencies towards the old ways in a now Christian country, her leg brace, and her desire to live as far away from town as possible while still being able to access it, she is an outcast to the town.
Blaze, son of Imrotheen, is a chaotic-good bisexual with a lot of love to give. With an insatiable need to make everyone his best friend, it's no wonder when he and Elsie grow close within minutes of meeting. Which causes him to invite her to see the fae city in the new realm they fled to after the hunting started. A fae with power over fire and a flare for the dramatic, with black hair and hazel eyes, the most important thing to him in this world is his family. And he's travelled it extensively, so he'd know.
Ismazud, daughter of Lulria, group mother, and Blaze's mate. Caring, nurturing, and worrisome, her gold eyes and brown hair exude a homeliness rarely found in the war ravaged fae. She uses her fire powers to weld and sculpt, being one of the most popular and highly sought after builders in the fae city, and leaving her hands covered in thin scars. Her brother is the most important person to her, second only to her mate, Blaze.
@yourocsbackstory thanks for this! it seems like fun ~
Character One - Finneus
finnues is from wayward son, a sprawling high fantasy extravaganza that’s currently in the works. he’ s tall and skinny and has a big attitude. coming from a small village in the mountains where he worked mostly as a blacksmith, finneus, still young, is sent to a nearby city on an errand to deliver a book for a friend of a friend.
it’s his first time leaving home and a wonder he makes it to Orphel at all, as finneus is so horrible with directions, he couldn’t find his way out of a paper bag. he’s short tempered and a little childish and loves playing pranks. lot of street smarts but not particularly book smart.
in his own words, he’s “a fuck up on the fast track to getting his head bashed in by a mule”. other people, like the faunt that he befriends, would call him loyal, inspiring, and brave to a fault.
finneus never shies away from the fact that he doesn’t want to be a hero. he wants to go back home and tend his horses and dogs again. but when it’s obvious that isn’t a choice he can make (not unless he wants to lay doom on the whole land) finneus does try and step up.
he makes the hard decisions, even if they leave him struggling with nightmares and spending more nights at the bar than not.
Character Two - Eidel
eidel is from follow you into the dark, a web comic that will eventually turn into a novelization. he’s a demon-esque forest beast that just wants to be your friend. before the start of the series, young Eidel is turned into the beast of braeberry woods, where it’s his job to steal enough souls to keep the forest alive and also try to keep peace between the creatures of the woods and the humans.
unfortunately, eidel isn’t very beastly. he can’t make deals, hasn’t picked a sigil, and would very much just like to make a few friends. lucky for him, not every human in braeberry is afraid of the dark, and some of the townsfolk eve welcome it.
or...should that be...unlucky for him?
in his own words, he’s “lost and not worth a whole lot, but i’m trying to fix some mistakes” and in the words of other people, he’s shy, and quiet, and kind, and more giving than a demon has any right to be. getting close to him is like getting close to a deer, where there’s something awfully magic about the notion.
