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[kiitism-blog]

|| escapiiing ||

          A voice clears by the doorway. She doesn’t need to turn          to know who it is. Everyone inside the kitchen seemed to           have quieted down, and upon raising her head from the           mix inside the bowl in her hands, Ella can see that look           of pure awe that was so common whenever he entered a           room. A look she so often shared with the maids staring           behind her. Everyone leaves; she’s not sure if he gave           them a sign to do so or if by their own will, all she knows           is that now Ella is alone with Kit. In the kitchen.           Swallowing thickly, Ella lowers the wooden spoon inside           the bowl, placing that carefully on top of the counter as           well before wiping her hands on the apron covering her           dress. Turning around, she wipes at her cheek in case           flour was still there. “—I can explain this.” She begins.           Ella attempts to suppress the grin that wants to come out           but is fairly sure it’s no use by now. “I really wanted to bake           you something. I know you told me I didn’t have to do anything           of this sort again but—”

                       ——————{  ♛  }——————

          HE hasn’t been down in the kitchens this much since he was twelve           and still young enough to get away with the foolish antics of a boy           growing into himself and his stomach –still too young to turn heads           and inspire awe rather than annoyance. it’s the hush that falls in his           presence as he enters the kitchens that he’s too curtly reminded of           his status and that he’s very much not normal. perhaps that’s why he           was so smitten with ella --her kindness and ability to see people as           they were and as they could be. though he won’t deny it has its advantages,           a little flick of digits accompanied by a kind smile and the servants           silently file from the room, a few muttered ‘your majesty’s’ and bows           of the head following their departure.

          ONLY then does he approach his wife, the tug of a grin at the corner           of his mouth betraying his amusement at the situation --a reflection           of the radiance of her own beam poorly veiled behind quivering lips.

                    ❝ did you now? ❞

          HE quips, hand reaching out to swipe a thumb across her cheekbone,           smudging away the last remnants of white powder dotted across fair           skin like blush.

kiitism believes in magic! 

[kiitism-blog]

|| ofmiidnight ||

    The moment she sits next to this handsome STRANGER,     she feels oddly uneasy. Folding her hands in her lap, she     adjusts slightly in her seat, folding her legs, crossing them,     leaning against the chair, the feeling never went away. Ella     simply gives up. It was the tube. It was being LATE. It was     never good to be late with Miss Tremaine. 

    Looking over her shoulder, at least five people were staring.     Brows knit together on her pale forehead, did she have something     on her face? Fingers thread along through her golden curls. Hues     look UP, four more sets. Swallowing hard, she leans to the side     slowly. Hoping she wasn’t disturbing the male right next to her.

     ‘Do you happen to know why        everyone is staring?’

                        ——————{  ♛  }——————

          HIS bag thumps gently against one shin as the train continues down           its underground path with a shrill squeak of protest, thus breaking his           surprised stupor and gaze as he looks away quickly, fixating instead           on the soft leather of the bag against his leg. one heartbeat. two. thoughts           are whirling. three. 

          GAZE is wrenched back up by her question, surprise written once more           across cerulean hues, disbelief muting his reply for the most brief of           seconds. do she truly not know who he was? because of course he knows           why what is a simple action to her has drawn so much attention, yet finds           himself loath to share it --the whole truth anyhow.

                    ❝ i do believe it’s me. not many people who ride the tube in                         fine business attire. you do have my apologies for that. ❞

          THE corner of his mouth tugs up in a good natured curve of a smile before            blue eyes wander from her face to those staring in their direction. his            standing does have some advantages, the ability to turn away stares with            a look from crystal sapphire irises being one of them.

[kiitism-blog]

|| eightholyterrors ||

 elsa couldn’t say that her eyes were displeased with the sight of her potential  future husband, his features were devilishly handsome, and he appeared to  be a catch to anyone’s eyes. there was something in his gaze though, for one  reason or another, they appeared lifeless, dead even. they lacked a light that  she couldn’t quite put her finger on. by his stiff formalities, she instantly held  caution, wondering if he was cruel behind closed doors. she had heard such  horror stories about certain men—especially kings—away from the public’s   view. since she had heard them, she had always held pause with every male  she came into contact with. especially one as edgily snippy as this one.        she already felt a knot in her stomach by the time his false pleasantries had ceased        and she felt an even deeper chill move up her spine as the king planted a kiss upon        her hand. she retracted it as soon as she was released, and she wet her lips with        her tongue. ❝—not at all your highness, all of arendelle behaves this way on every        occasion. no changes were made in your favor.❞ she lied quickly, and cleanly as        though she had been doing it since the day she were born, and she motioned her        hand to guide him up the docks. ❝—won’t you come view the palace with me? i        shall give you the tour.❞ she mused coolly, and collected.

                        ——————{  ♛ }——————

                    you never get a second chance to make a first impression.

          SOMEONE’S words, his father’s, his grandfather’s, sarah his nurse,           or even his captain…someone said them once upon a time, and they           comerushing back now more relevant than ever as his hand closes           once more around empty air sticky with seasalt and brine. mind           reading is not a talent that runs in royal blood, but it takes much less           than the supernatural to perceive the frigidly of the arendelle queen.           he doesn’t care so much of his reputation in a vain manner, but from           the prospective of his people –they should not be the ones that have           to suffer because his heart was too hung up on events that could not           be reversed.

                                    ( a blink and azure gaze is obscured, and with                                                    it he pushes down images of hair like woven                                                    sunlight and summer sky freshcut and sewn                                                    into fabric. )

                                      there’s no time like the present, kit.

                    ❝ it is an honor to be invited to your kingdom regardless,                        queen elsa, and you have my humble thanks. ❞

          LIES are abound, more than should be with such a diplomatic exchange            –and exchange which ought to promise more. the king bites back a sigh,           already he has failed to keep his father’s lessons and there’s already           mistakes to be undone.

          HANDS are placed neatly behind his back, the masks over his face           stripped down to one that’s simply stoic, a small smile curving over top           –not the fake one reserved for welcomes or missions. A more genuine           one, though perhaps a bit sad in the depths of his eyes and he bows his           head.

                    ❝ of course. ❞

Elsa&Kit | Trial Basis AU

[kiitism-blog]

|| ofmiidnight ||

  Wishing that she had some sort of assurance to give   him, other then then praying every single second of   each passing moment that he would come home in   one piece. How could she fill him with lies? Ella could   not bare to do so. She wishes nothing to think of this   war no more. Unsure of when exactly he needs to   go with the knights, they still had this. They still had   the day, and that’s how she will be. Hopeful. 

   The corner’s of her lips pull into a soft smile on her    cheeks at him telling her he would bring her a    branch. Dropping his hand from her own, and nearly    flings herself into him. Arms wrapping around his    torso, crushing him to her. 

     ‘Don’t tell me lies. Just      try and come back whole.’

   And when he would return, she will do everything    in her POWER to make him the same. She will.

She’s at his side in an instant, her pink lips were trembling so terrible, she had to press them together in a thin line. Sapphire hues are scanning over him, there was so much blood.He was still in his uniform that had been torn at the shoulder, chest out in the open— exposed. Bandages are covered his shoulder, the ends of them are nearly  tainted with blood. This was not the man she had seen walk away from her. Ella’s chest raised, fell, showing that she had been breathing. Even if it pained to do so.

Kneeling slightly, hands are reaching for him. Shaking. She hesitates, afraid she would HURT him. Fighting an inner battle with herself, in search for the Captain. Or staying with him. Slowly, she’s bringing her hand up to his cheek, thumb swiping along his clammy pale skin. 

   ‘Just stay with me. That’s    all I ask.’

She can’t lose him. 

                         ——————{  ♛  }——————

          LIES. yes, that’s clearly all they are, but if they’re meant to comfort           her or set his own conscious at ease is a much more blurred line.           nonetheless, whether murmured promises are doomed to be broken           or not, he wraps her in his arms, though he may as well be clinging           to her slim figure just as much she is his. 

                                                          ( it is as it always has been, the two of                                                              them like the sun and moon, forever                                                              needing the other. )

          WAR has its own heartbeat; a hard, rough beat driven by fear and           hate and adrenaline, for it is the crude epicenter of raw human emotion.           but he tries to ignore that now, tries to let the soft patter of her chest           against his calm nervous thoughts over how nothing will be the same           once he rides out under stone arches, ace’s step sharp and proud.

          FINGERS wind in beaten gold hair, taking in the scent of sunshine           and summer, gathering memories to hold when the sky darkens and           the winter of war sets in around his bones. never forget what you’re           fighting for, son. his father had lectured, and now kit understands a bit           more than he did then.

                                                           ( remember what you’re fighting for, and                                                               you’ll come home once more. )

                    ❝ i love you. ❞

                              FABRIC moves in a faint rustle, the captain stepping in, face                               set in grim lines, remorse set deep in every crevice. dark eyes                               survey the scene before him, tongue quiet not wanting to intrude                               any more than he already has. the queen on her knees, and the                               king so pale where life ought to flow in abundance.

                                        ❝ i’m sorry, ella. more sorry than you know. ❞

          IN the wavelengths of a dream, the image shifts, darkness           leeching over blue skies, golden sunlight no longer warm on           his skin, flesh of the fresh faced maiden no longer warm on           his skin. shattered. that’s all it is, all it was. an illusion. but           still, he clutches to the tatters of the fading blue dress, for           with darkness comes reality and with reality comes pain.

A war within --

[kiitism-blog]

|| magicofkindness ||

kiitism

            She loved him still. Throughout the give years since the magical ball and            her night of magic and Fairy Godmothers, she loved him still. What else            could she do but to love him still? At first, it was because Ella wasn’t sure            if anyone else in the world loved him, and someone always needed someone            to love them. She didn’t know if he was happy, or if he had any friends, or if            his new Queen would be a good friend to him. So, Ella loved him so he would             have someone in the world to do so.

            Then she had gotten a glimpse inside of the Royal Cathedral the day the Kit             had married the lovely Princess. And he was smiling. He wasn’t stiff, nor sad,             nor angry, or upset. He was smiling. He got along with his new wife.

            So, then, Ella loved him because her heart needed something to love in her             new world of darkness.

            Madam married the Royal Duke and Ella was forced to leave her beautiful,             sacred country home for the Palace. The Duke and the Lady Tremaine had             been sure to scare Ella into not running down the halls to Kit; the lash scars             on her back proved that. It had been unnecessary, though. If Kit was happy             with his new Queen, she could not disrupt his life with her own selfishness.

            It wouldn’t be right.

            The Duke, however, made sure he did all he could to guarantee Ella would             regret the happiest night of her life. He was never successful, but Ella grew             tired and exhausted as he made her from servant to slave. She woke up before             dawn everyday and only fell asleep just a few hours before the sunrise. Her life             was hard and she was lonely—her mice friends had been left behind—but she             tread on.

            What else was there to do?

            “You come into the dining room and I shall make you regret the day you walked!” 

            It had been two years since the Queen Shelina’s death. The entire kingdom             mourned her death, as did Kit. From the handful of glances Ella had caught             of him, she knew her King mourned, too. She wished to comfort him, to help             to heal his pain, but knew it was not her place. No, he must have forgotten her             with a Queen as lovely as Shelina had been.

            But, the King was coming to dine in the Duke’s chambers. Ella had nearly             jumped out of her seat when the Countess had spat that at her, threatening Ella’s             entire life if she were to be found by the King. The King, that the Countess and the             Duke saw nearly every day. They knew him, yes? Did they somehow know that he             cared for her at all? Her heart skipped a beat, but she could not cause anyone             any pain by uncovering herself.

            This would not be a new feeling to Ella, to see the love of her life so close and             unable to raise her voice. She had been outside the Cathedral on the day of his             wedding, of the Queen Shelina’s coronation, she had just been down the hall at             this or that ball, and she had been only feet away from Kit at the Queen’s funeral.             This would be no different. Honestly, Ella was grateful for the small sight of his             beautiful eyes, his shiny hair, and the sqaureness of his shoulders.

            Ella sat in the kitchen, plating the next round of food the night of the dinner. She             could hear Kit’s face, she could hear the wonderful sound of his laughter, and she             could imagine the beauty and grace that was his smile. She was alone in the kitchen             now, fingers aching, shoulders trembling as colorful memories of a vibrant ball             danced across her memories.

            “Miss, you have been dismissed to go to bed,” the cook said.

            “I cannot leave the kitchen, though—” The only way out of the kitchen and to her             room in the cellar was to pass a hall by the dining room. The King could see Ella             if he looked up at just the right time.

            “The Countess has ordered you to bed. There is sewing there for you,” the cook             replied unsympathetically. Ella’s entire frame slumped in nerves. Oh, she hoped             that she would not be in trouble for this.

            Teeth dug into her lip, Ella stood just out of sight in the hall. His voice was still so             deep, so full of kindness and strength. She closed her eyes and her waist shivered             as she remembered his hand brushing over her waist to dance with her. Tears             pricked her eyes. Have courage and be kind.

            Quickly, Ella stepped through the hall and prayed that the Countess or the Duke             had not seen her.

                          ——————{  ♛  }——————

          HE had wanted to hate her. shelina with her dark complexion and           midnight black hair, such a stark contrast to pale silver and beaten           gold of the maiden that whirled through his dreams and laughed as           the clock struck twelve. he had wanted to hate her, loathe her very           being for she what she represented: the destruction of a dream, a           perfect illusion that would soon fade to golden memory.

          BUT shelina was kind –not so much with gentle hands and a           personality to please, as much as a fiery, eloquent tongue and a           knack for understanding. their second meeting she had taken his           hands and in that lyrical voice said that she was sorry, a knowing           glint deep in ebony gaze. she was there, he had forgotten that. she           was there as he danced with his princess in blue and ignored the           one in red. she was there and she saw. it was then he realized:           you can’t blame someone for not being the one you wish,           especially not those with royal blood so thick within their           veins.

          IF the maiden from the forest embodied summer, then shelina was           fall with its reds and oranges and burst of color that demanded to get           its say before the harsh winter set in. and so it was only fitting they           were wed as summer died and the greens started to fade to browns           and yellows, and with the turning of the clock came the twist of kit’s           heart, reality pushing the memory of golden hair and honey eyes back           with those of birthdays, black horses, and brief moments in his father’s           embrace.

          HE tried to bed her only once in the wake of their wedding day for           that’s what was done, even as the echo of a soft voice rang in his ears,           just because its what’s done, doesn’t mean it’s what should be done. it           must have shone in his eyes for dark fingers had stayed his as they           fumbled with brass buttons and a murmur whispered over satin sheets           and the cloak of night that no one need to know. he slept alone after that,           fingers seeking out warmth next to him where he knew he would find none,           shelina across the hall in her own magnificent room. 

                                                ( but after that day he also gained a trusted friend. )

          SMILES graced his face once more, blue eyes no longer dark as the           depths of the ocean, but bright like the summer sky –like her dress oh           so long ago? they went to court, both of them, language no longer the           barrier it was that magical night he had left her beside the king. and she           was clever, engaging with the grand duke in such a way that made his           lips curl and teeth bite back laughs. they were matched, a pair of twin           swords too matched to be anything but friends and allies in the heat           of politics.

                                                ( he was content. )

          THE world was not perfect, but no one can ask it to be, so he was happy           being content. there are worst things than being married to someone you           have grown to call your best friend.

          AND thus he cried at her passing, not because it was expected by the           court and the people, but because remorse and sadness had truly dug           his sharp claws into his heart –though the salt tears that escaped from           tiny blue oceans were not for a lover as so many believed, but for a dear           friend whom he had come to love in the most innocent of ways.

          BUT gone were the days of innocence and naivety. death had graced his           hooded presence before and so kit moved on, black cloth turning to grey.           but never did it turn white, not even at the grand duke’s urgence and           reminders that shelina unfortunately did not produce an heir before her           death, did kit seek out another bride. in time perhaps he would, but not           quite yet.

                                       ( and perhaps he started dreaming once more                                                        as summer sang its song once more, of golden                                                        hair and blue dresses and eyes like warm                                                        chocolate. )

          TWO years and the time for stalling slowly trickled out from its meta-           phorical hourglass. he was no longer an adolescent king, but one in           his prime, and the rumors started abound. of the lack of an heir and           rebellion, thus the extension of an invitation to dine with the grand           duke and his wife the countess tremain did not faze him, though the           prospect of speaking at length on the topic of brides did not quite           appeal to him.

          STILL go he did to dine and laugh good-naturedly along with the couple,           wine in hand to wet his throat. anecdotes flew from mouth to mouth,           spewed out over roast chicken and fine breads and rice, each word           seeming to bring the past back to life as if sparkling blue and glass           slippers had only happened but a week past. it seeming fitting, the           tugging of memories to the surface because he had felt it. the wave           of sadness as he stepped over the threshold of the duke’s house, as           if there were something here. something important.

          ANOTHER sip of sweet wine, his head tosses back in a bout of           laughter, eyes wandering from fare and host to the hall beyond as           the grand duke waxes on about a horse and the countess gives her           devilish smile, red as blood.

          AND a flash of blue and gold flits across the doorway.

          SAPPHIRE hues widen ever so slightly, mind hardly having to work           to bring the image of a maiden with gold sunlit hair in a simple blue           frock and talk of stags and life upon her tongue. heart skips a beat,           jumping in an irregular pattern against his ribs, because surely…

          THE chair screeches as he pushes it back, glass of wine set           precariously at the edge of the table. eyes swiveled to him, the maid           serving the next course of the mail pausing, plate hovering between           the table and her tray. he can’t breathe, hope a toxin pumping through           his veins that sends everything askew.

                    ❝ forgive me, I shall be back in a moment. ❞

[kiitism-blog]

|| ofmiidnight ||

   Ella glances down at her watch that was her mothers. The young    blonde girl snatched it before her WICKED step-mother could give    it away before she even had the chance to protest. She was running    late, and the subway should be here any minute. When the tube stops,    she eagerly gets in, searching for an empty seat. There was none.    But next to a male who was sitting all by himself, dressed in a suit.

      Why was he riding a subway with a       perfectly good suit? 

   Walking forward, she offers him a light smile. Before taking the seat    right next to him. 

                          ——————{  ♛  }——————

          AND he really was just going to continue his mental analysis of life off           in his own world, but then she throws everything off. no, smiles are not           new to him. too many are shot in his direction, shot through with flirtation           and lust and the keenness of a predator stalking prey, but hers seems           more innocent; the kind people give to strangers when they don’t want to           be rude --or so that’s what they tell him, it’s happened to him so few a           time they’re as substantial as a dream. until now, that is.

          HEAD turns as she takes the seat next to him, lips flickering upwards in           the most uncertain of smiles, even as he can feel a half dozen eyes fixing           on the poor blonde.

[kiitism-blog]

magicofkindness && ofmiidnight

                           ——————{  ♛  }——————

          THERE were two sorts of people: those who couldn’t get close enough           to him and those too terrified to come within a twenty foot radius, and           the young businessman was unsure as to which he preferred. currently,           it was the latter that prevailed if the empty seats next to him were any           sign as the train sped and slowed along its underground track. it isn’t           horrible, after all hardly anyone looks at anyone on the subway. but still,           it’s as if he’s infected with the plague.

          NOT the plague, perhaps, but his father’s security guards. he can see           one now if he tops forward just the tiniest bit, blue eyes catching the           glimpse of a dark-suited, dark-sunglasses man at the other end of the           car. of course. take the subway to avoid his father after the meeting           and he’d still tailed. a tiny sigh escapes as he sits back once more,           the faint sound lost in the commotion as the train jolts to a stop, a           dozen pattering feet moving as passengers jostle on and jostle off           just as they have the past three stops.

[kiitism-blog]

          [ alright, but au where lady tremaine wins and becomes a                 countess, her daughters get an advantageous marriages                 to lords, and she hands ella over to the grand duke to do                 what he will. and while the grand duke wants the best for                 the kingdom, he isn’t completely cruel and hires ella to                 be a maid at the palace --though he first finds a way to                 have kit forget ella completely.

                kit keeps his promise to marry the princess shalina and                 they are wed, and the few months later, kit is walking down                 one of the palace halls and spots this blonde serving girl                 and feels unexpected burst of sadness. he thinks nothing                 of it, and continues on his way.

                but it happens again.

                and the third time he grabs her arm and makes her look at                 him. and there’s this curious spark in his blue eyes along                 with an unimaginable sadness as he whispers in a hoarse                 voice: “you know, you really remind me of someone...                 someone i’ve forgotten but can’t imagine why.” ]

[kiitism-blog]

|| eightholyterrors ||

 the instant she saw him she kept her eyes focused upon him, and her mind in  check. she had to be perfect. she needed this to work, not just for arendelle  but for herself as well. she had waited to find true love for so long. it had been  such a difficult feat waiting for this day to come at last. she could practically  hear her guards, and the peasants surround the dock holding their breath as  she stepped forward, moving towards the young king, her hands clenching one  another harder, as she at last made it to standing right in front of him. her   head bowed, and she curtsied, ❝—your highness, welcome to arendelle.❞ she  felt like a robot as she said those words. so stiff and well-mannered. she had  rehearsed them a million times to herself in the mirror, and she hadn’t wanted  to screw it up.         ❝—i am elsa.❞ she managed to stay the words without screwing them up, and her        shoulders visibly relaxed once they were finally said. ❝—i hope you find arendelle      to your liking.❞ she knew that what the underlying connotations of those words       were, were that he found ‘her’ to his liking. she hoped for true love, she wished for      it more than anything, and that was why she was giving this a chance. she thought      maybe just maybe, he might be someone she could love.

                         ——————{  ♛  }——————

          THERE lies no use in regretting what cannot be changed, nor wishing           things were different –such are the ways of the world, the ways of           diplomacy, no matter how unfortunate. and thus is it that he forces a           smile across his face, so well practiced that perhaps it looks more           natural than it feels against his cheeks. from gangway to dock he           steps carefully, coming to pause before the ice queen of arendelle           –decked in blue just as she had been, though of a different quality,           not quite welcoming summer as much the cold tinge of winter.

          HE meets her words with a bow of his own and a hand coming to           take hers and brush lips across pale knuckles in a motion of           courtesy, even as a bark of laughter bubbling up in his chest though           not quite making it into the air. practice and conformity and falsity are           written across every tone of her voice, though conceivably it is that           fact that fractures a bit of the wall that been built since the grand duke           forbid more searches for his mystery princess.

          THERE is no use wishing things were different. one can only take           what is given.

                    ❝ and I am kit. your kingdom is not so unlike my                         own, your majesty, though I hope her royal                         highness did not go to great lengths to prepare                         for my arrival. ❞

          HE should not be so hard on the queen, not be so double edged with his           diplomatic words for it is not her fault she is not someone he wishes her           to be --though her appearance reflects the other in a colder more white           image. it is a fine edge he walks, not wishing to come across as distant           nor discourteous, but he also seeks not to instill hope where there is none.           for even if love at first sight is a myth, he has never believed in it more than           when his eyes were set on the girl from the forest.

                    ❝ please. forgive my disrespect if I come across as                         curt, it has been a long journey. ❞

          AN excuse, if he has heard any, and one he ought not to have to make.

Elsa&Kit | Trial Basis AU

[kiitism-blog]

|| magicofkindness ||

princekiit

Spring was always her favorite season. The flowers were colorful, birds were full of song, and everything around her seemed to be sparkling with vitality. Everything seemed magical, really, in spring time. As a child, she would spend her hours from dusk until dawn outside, whether it be reading on a balcony, riding her soft gray mare, or dancing with her mother and father in the courtyard. Even now, she did all she could to spend her time in the fresh, beautiful air.

Even as Queen.

There were many moments where she found her pale fingers brushing over the fine silks and velvets of her gowns, or her crystal blue eyes staring at the many jewels in her wardrobe, or cheeks blushing at the gifts she received from nobles just for being Queen. The last gift she |had ever received was from her Fairy Godmother. Before that, it had been years.

For all the strange adjustment to her new status in life, the happiest change was having Kit by her side. He was kind, thoughtful, and understanding. Really, he seemed to know her every thought before |she could voice her fears. He would take her hand and smile at her and all her nerves would melt away with him by her side.

This was one of the few moments where she found herself not by Kit’s side with her arm linked in his. She had spent most of her afternoon inside, unfortunately, and had traveled out to the extravagant palace gardens in hopes to find someone to talk to, or a new friend to make. A lady-in-waiting accompanied her, and Ella made idle chatter, hoping to get to know the kind lady better. To Ella, though, all of her ladies were fair and gentle.

“My love!” she called, recognizing Kit riding in on his horse from the palace steps. Ella waved and smiled, relieved to see her new husband, and hoping she could catch him for at least a few moments to speak. Even though she often forgot, he was King and was often busier than the hours of the day allowed.

                      ——————{  ♛  }——————

          WHEN spring come round with her bright green dresses and flowers           springing from her footsteps, sweeping away the last white flurries           of winter’s harsh grasp, the castle seemed to come alive once more;           servants shaking off the slumber born in the deep of winter while           hunched by orange-red fires with hands cupped around a fresh hot           cup of tea. and of course came the feeling of relief, like an exhaled           sigh as they threw open windows and doors to let out stale air and           bring in a breath of fresh life on the trills of birdsong.

                                             ( though this winter has not seemed quite so                                                 long nor dreary with his queen at his side,                                                 even if the presence of his father and his                                                 lessons and stories were sorely missed. )

          THOSE dark and chilled days have now passed to clear blue skies           and warm sum that teases with its warm rays not quite as radiant           as those on a summer’s day, and still a temperate breeze will blow           as if winter hasn’t quite finished with his part yet.

          THE slow thawing also lent him to lead his first patrol about the small           kingdom to access the damages brought on by icy fingers and bluster-           ing winds, and perhaps to lift the moral of his people in the process.           ace had been biting at the bit, quite literally, to go on such an expedition           after too many days in the stable, taken out onto snowy paths if only to           preserve his fine physique, though his master was slightly less willing           to leave the palace and her. but the parting would only be for a few days,           a pale contrast to the many days spent together as snow flew by tightly           sealed glass, and so he had went.

                                              ( yet, that did not mean his heart thumped a little                                                 faster as their journey finally took them down                                                 wooded paths home. )

          ACE seemed to absorb his excitement, the black charger’s ears perked           and step light and quick. kit was grateful, trees seemingly to whoosh by           until the palace turrets finally peeked out above the fields of green.

                                              ( it takes more self-discipline than he’d like to                                                  admit to refrain from galloping the last league                                                  home. )

          SUCH discipline wavers as they click-clack their way under stone arch-           ways into fine manicured lawns trimmed with bright flowers a bit more           vibrant than he remembers upon leaving. the gallop restrained in the           forest now bursts out for the few seconds that take horse and rider to           palace steps and has kit dismounting almost before the black gelding           comes to a halt.

                    ❝ my queen. ❞

[kiitism-blog]

|| magicofkindness ||

            “If we are not needed for so long, I suggest we             traverse the entire world.”

Her sugary brown eyes were practically dancing with joy through her playful banter. Any moment spent with Kit was one to be grateful for, always filled with love and adoration between the couple. Not since that magical ball have they gotten the chance to spend so many hours together with no second motive or need to have their minds elsewhere.

            “Your Captain or Royal advisers surely would not             object, right?”

                       ——————{  ♛  }——————

                    ❝ i daresay there may be a few objections should we                        undertake such an adventure, my love. yet, perhaps                        it need not be such a long journey seeing as my entire                        world is right here. ❞

          HIS smile grows at that, adoration sparkling in beryl hues as they meet           warm chocolate, lively as the ocean waves themselves. ace, too, seems           to sense his master’s excitement, hooves shifting every slightly in the           impatience to be off --too long has he been exercised by the too gentle           stable hands day after day.

[kiitism-blog]

|| prxncecharming ||

               “So you’re seeking magic?”                                   He dislikes magic, despite it helping him in the past.  He knows the costs                                   of magic, especially magic as powerful as she seems to need.  At least,                                   he assumes it would be powerful, to save one from the end of their days.                                    It isn’t in his power to help her, but he can likely lead her in the direction of                                   one that can.

                       ——————{  ♛  }——————

                    ❝ i- ❞

          SHE has not thought so much ahead, not about what she is willing           to sacrifice in order to keep her father on this earth for a few more           precious moments (if it is not already too late). for she has heard           tales of those who dabbled with magic, nightmares and horror           stories that could not be offset by the granting of one wish. yet, it is           with confidence that she replies, seeing no shame in admitting her           ignorance --after all, she masquerades as no more than a merchant’s           daughter.

                    ❝ i do not know, sir. but a place to stay the night is all i                        seek tonight. ❞

[kiitism-blog]

|| veinsofcinder ||

                    his  hood  obscured  the  chance   for her to  see  who  it  really           was   BUT  his  voice  was  so  familiar !        it  sounded  like  the  ——  ACQUAINTANCE.            the  one  she  had  met  in  the  FOREST  —————   the  APPRENTICE.     the  one   she           was  READY  to  give  her  dearest  belongings   up  for   ———-  just  for  the  CHANCE           to  meet  him  again.     she  did  manage  a  GLIMPSE  of  his  CAPTIVATING  blue  eyes,          which  also  looked  much  like  that  of  HIM.      but  there  could  be  oh  so  many  men           in  the  KINGDOM   who  had  gorgeous  blue  irises   &   an  ATTRACTIVE   voice !   it          needn’t  necessarily  be  him. 

                                                    ❝   oh,  it’s  alright !   they’ll  just  get  CREASES                                             is  all.   I’ll  iron  them  out.   you  need  not  worry,  mr.  ———  ?    ❞ 

                       maybe  it  was  her  DESPERATION   to  meet  him  again  that  caused  her  to            look  for  him  in  every  man’s  SILHOUETTE  ————  that  she  now  THOUGHT  this          man  had  eyes  &  a  voice  similar  to  that  of     —————  KIT.

                       ——————{  ♛  }——————

          HE had not dared to dream about their next meeting, knowing it would           have to be a coincidence more akin to a miracle. yet, the heart is not           so easily quieted, and if he claimed the forest maiden hadn’t been on           his mind as he slipped from the servants’ door and pulled the hood over           his face, it would be a blatant lie.

          EVERY flash of golden fine hair caused his heart to skip a beat, a quick           two-one-two staccato that made it jump into his throat before azure hues           more fully examined the figure. which perhaps now is why cerulean irises           are laced with disbelief written over the hope of hopes that this is indeed           her. yet the cadence of that voice and the hesitation just so before the blank           space where he is to fill his name leaves the prince with no doubts.

          NO doubts that have a smile wandering across his face, lighting up sapphire           eyes as his voice takes on an amused lilting tone.

                     ❝ never mind what they call me, miss. ❞

[kiitism-blog]

|| ofpapillion ||

           ❝ That sounds wonderful. We haven’t been out in so               long, perhaps we could pass through the glade where               we met? Oh, I know. How about a race? ❞

       It seemed a childish notion, to suggest a race, but Kit and Ella were        children at heart. They thrived on fun and spontaneity. Should they        be without it, their lives would be all the more dull and boring. She        couldn’t stop the grin of mischief that crossed her features as excitment        filled her body at the prospect of racing through the woods with Kit        far behind her, engulfed in her dust.

                        ——————{  ♛  }——————

                    ❝ anything you wish is my wish as well. let us go fetch                         the horses. ❞

          HIS pride may be unbent long enough to loose to the blonde, though he’s           not so sure his black charger will be of the same opinion, some unquench-           able reckless fire burns inside that horse, after all. still, the prospect of an           amiable chase seems fitting after so many days of nothing but sitting straight           backed, breaking but for a quaint meal alongside his wife.

          PERHAPS if they rode quick enough, their responsibilities would be the           things left behind in the dust.

[kiitism-blog]

          [ okay so this upcoming week is actually the week from                 hell seeing as it’s the one before spring break and i gotta                 get a shitton of stuff done. i’ll be queuing replies and                 drabbles throughout the week (god knows i have enough)                 and i’m probably going to go see cinderella again on friday                 to get myself in a good spring break mood. until then, i’ll                 be a bit spotty but feel free to chat me up on skype!! but                 before i go, i want to leave you with this lovely icon that                 sums up all my feelings about everything:

                the only icon i need in my life tbh. anyways, see you all                 one friday 8D!! ]

[kiitism-blog]

|| cinderiiisms ||

          he rushed through the double doors with no intention of causing a stir.           edward meant to slip into the crowds, searching faces and guests to           find kit from the forest. but subtlety and secrecy were long forgotten,           for every eye turned to him. his breath caught in his throat, and he           thought seriously about fleeing for a few moments. 

                    surely they must know i do not belong here. 

          but he did belong there this night. he remembered the words of mr.           lizard outside: enjoy it while it lasts. and he smiled and bowed           gracefully to the king as a strong voice declared that the princess           would be choosing her partner for the first dance. he grinned, still           looking for kit and laughing at the thought of his stepbrothers pushing           down other guests and each other to grab hold of the poor princess.           but then he saw the poor princess, and he stopped short on the steps. 

                    miss kit… you are no apprentice. 

                      ——————{  ♛  }——————

          THE air seems tight as if every person is holding their breath just as           she is, just as she makes her way from carpeted to stairs to walk           gracefully across wooden floors, slippers clicking quietly in a staccato           beat. her smile stretches wide, even as butterflies flit in her stomach as           she draws nearer, proximity erasing any lingering doubts, for it is the           very same servant from the forest, though servant no more in such a           grand suit of blue. not a servant but a prince.

          THE crowd parts before her, eyes turning to her as the whispers start,           but kit pays no mind, eyes seeing nothing but the figure before her, for           though eyes have validated it, her mind has not quite caught up.           breathless, oh she is so breathless with her heart hammering against           fine silks in yellows and golds as she peers into rich chocolate hues,           voice no more than a whisper coasting out on a soft exhale.

                    ❝ it’s you, isn’t it? ❞

[kiitism-blog]