#「♔」illumia farryn | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lalcne-blog · 5 years

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index: illumia farryn

sunlight. a piano melody. dense forests. new books. glass slippers. fairytales. stepping into the unknown. quiet dinners. band-aids. cafes. grass-stained dresses.

TINY FINGERS DANCE across the piano keys, a distinct melody surrounding the room. illumia closes her eyes, imagining music notes floating through the air, the sunlight from the open window shining across them, perhaps even creating a rainbow without rain. a serene smile makes its way onto her face, an expression that would suit a much older woman, not a five year old like herself.

the music stops and she opens her eyes, looking expectantly at the woman standing beside the piano. her expression is stern.

❝ excellent, illumia. i can tell you’ve been practicing. ❞ despite the apathetic face, illumia is happy. this is high praise from her teacher. ❝ keep at it. you will achieve great things. ❞

illumia beams.

her childhood is full of pretty dresses and silk ribbons and lavish parties. she learns that she’s a noble and that she should act as such, sitting with her back straight and her legs positioned just right so that she appears elegant. she smiles around people she doesn’t know because a young lady must be polite, and her mother does the same thing, so why wouldn’t she ??

most of the time, she is given permission to play with the other children ( providing she doesn’t dirty her dress or stuff her face or let her hair fall out of place ), but as she grows older, she finds her parents requesting her presence during conversations more and more. at first, she sees this as a blessing. she isn’t being treated like a baby anymore.

but that feeling is a fleeting one.

she soon realises that she isn’t part of the conversation, at least not in the way she wishes to be. there is no room for her opinion. instead, she’s the subject of scrutiny. she is introduced to other nobles whose names always escape her the moment the night ends, but according to her mother, they are good friends. no proof is ever given to substantiate that.

the strangers’ responses to her vary, but most are along the lines of ❝ she’s a very polite girl, isn’t she ?? ❞ and ❝ she seems so mature for her age ❞ and ❝ i’m sure she’ll blossom into a fine young woman. ❞ she -- these people know she has a name, right ?? -- doesn’t understand what any of this means, or why it’s so important, or why her parents are so satisfied when the conversation is over.

she’s at the age where her imagination begins to run wild, where she dreams of leaping out her window and exploring the forest at night while the wind blows through her hair. not that she ever would, of course. her parents wouldn’t take too kindly to that.

she’s also been reading her story books lately, presents from when she was younger. they tell her tales of love and happily-ever-afters, and she decides she wants that for herself someday in a future that seems so distant from where she is now. she’s only a child, after all, and she likes to remain as logical as she can despite her active imagination. the chances of her having a whirlwind romance at such a young age are zero to none.

her belief is that everyone deserves a happy ending and that it’s attainable for everyone, but she’s noticed that one relationship in particular doesn’t quite match up to what her stories tell her.

❝ hey, daddy, ❞ she says one night when her father comes in to tuck her into bed, ❝ you and mummy are in love, like in the stories, right ?? and this is your happily ever after ?? ❞

her dad appears surprised at the question, and for a moment, he stares at the butterfly mural on her wall. she follows his gaze, seeing no issue with this. her wall is rather pretty, after all.

❝ i love your mother, of course i do, ❞ he says with a reassuring smile when he turns back to her. ❝ and of course this is our happily ever after, because you’re in it. ❞

he runs his hand through her hair before switching off her lamp and leaving the room. his answer is a comforting one, and it will be several years before she pieces together what’s wrong with it, what he didn’t say. but for now, she’s content.

this isn’t the first time illumia has imagined leaping out her window and flying into the night, but it’s the first time she’s genuinely considering it. she could resume her unfinished homework that lies forgotten on the desk, or better yet, ask her parents what in the world they were talking about when she passed the kitchen earlier, but the night sky is the subject of her focus tonight. or at least it should be. the conversation continues to run through her mind despite never being part of it.

❝ and what about fern’s son ?? he’s a few years older, but once they’re adults, that won’t matter. they’ll get along just fine. ❞

❝ i’m not sure, i’d rather she be with someone closer to her own age. she isn’t even a teenager yet. adoran’s boy might be more suitable. ❞

❝ perhaps, but his father isn’t offering as much as fern is. this is our daughter’s future on the line, you know. my father only accepted the best for me, and that was you. i want the same for her. ❞

illumia hadn’t stayed around to listen after that. she’d heard enough. now she’s crumpled against her window seat with her arms folded across the windowsill, breathing in the night air as she contemplates what her parents meant.

well, she actually already knows. she’s heard the stories of arranged marriages within the noble seelie ranks, and she’s sure one or two of the weddings she’s attended were for arranged couples. it never seemed like something to worry about, never something she might be subjected to some day, and yet here she is, wondering who her life is going to be tied down to for the rest of time the moment she becomes an adult.

as her father said, she isn’t even a teenager yet. she still has a few more years to go before then, but that doesn’t take away from the fact that she’ll never be ready. she wants to fall in love and choose the person she’ll ultimately marry herself. this shouldn’t be about money. her mother says she wants the best for her, and yet doesn’t even ask her opinion.

and then there is the revelation that her parents were also arranged. it may not change the fact that they are legally bound in marriage, but to illumia, it changes everything.

she narrows her eyes at the moon, but immediately feels bad, as the moon doesn’t deserve her wrath. she sighs and is about to look away when she sees something flickering -- zooming ?? flying ?? -- in the distance, a humanoid shape that she can’t seem to tear her eyes away from.

she learns what freedom is.

freedom is diving out your window in the dead of night to fly across the treetops. freedom is not caring if you dirty your nightgown and socks. it’s innocent first kisses and skipping stones across the river, dancing among the fireflies as they tangle themselves in your hair. it’s spending time with people she never would have met otherwise.

it’s these nights with her friends that make the routine of the day bearable. she’s aware of just how much her parents keep from her now, and she suspects that this is her way of retaliating. just because she’s young doesn’t mean she can’t have secrets of her own.

she can tell they’re pleased because her mood has been so much better lately, and there is a certain satisfaction to knowing how much they would hate the truth.

it’s only when she’s home from lucille for the winter holidays that she notices something that was right in front of her all along.

the annual winter ball is nothing new to her, nor is the way her parents stand with their backs straight, side-by-side but never touching. the closest they ever get to affection is linking arms when walking into the room. no, her parents’ lack of chemistry is something she’s been aware of for years now.

it’s the way her father’s eyes seem to follow one man, another noble that illumia has known for years. adoran is the father of one of her potential ❛ suitors ❜, and has therefore always been seen as the enemy -- one of many -- but something is different tonight. or perhaps everything is the same and she is only now noticing.

she recognises the expression on her father’s face. it’s one of longing, of watching something you can’t have, when there is some sort of barricade between you and what ( who ) you want and nothing you do can break it down. a look of helplessness as you find yourself unable to look away despite knowing better.

( she knows this look because she sees it in the mirror all the time. )

her parents have never been in love. she’s known this for a long time and learned to accept it long ago, but she never considered anything beyond that. she never considered that they might have been in love before. that they might still be in love.

she’s going to be a doctor.

it wasn’t some big revelation, nothing in particular that sparked her interest in medicine, but a series of small, almost inconsequential things. tending to the scrapes and wounds of the younger skull bois, researching potions for different ailments, never looking away when the family doctor was conducting his check-ups. it’s always been there in the back of her mind, but it’s her need to assist others that rises above them all.

all she wants to do is help people, so why is she crying ??

she’s standing on one of the highest bridges in lucille, one that connects two turrets together. it’s one of her favourite spots and a place rarely ever visited at night when most people are safe and sound inside the dorms. no one is here to hear her sobs.

that is, until she senses a presence behind her.

❝ are you mad at me, too ?? ❞ she asks.

❝ no, ❞ dusk says, and even without turning around, she can see him shaking his head. ❝ i can’t say i relate, but i’m not mad. to be honest, i couldn’t see you doing anything else. ❞

she manages a brief smile at that. ❝ thanks. ❞

❝ no problem. ❞ he walks forward so he’s standing next to her. ❝ can i ask, though -- why a doctor ?? ❞

at first she shrugs, but after a moment of silence, she answers, ❝ because i think i can make a difference. and because i’m interested in it, of course. making people feel better is something i always want to do. ❞

❝ illumia farryn, always thinking of other people, ❞ dusk says with a grin, but she shakes her head.

❝ i like helping people, but i’m not doing this for anyone else. i’m doing this for me. i knew... i knew what would happen if i stayed here, but... i know it’s the best option for me. i feel like a lot of the decisions i’ve made have been for other people, but... i don’t think i can do that anymore. ❞

she faces forward as she says it, but she can see dusk looking at her from the corner of her eye. he appears thoughtful, and he soon follows her gaze, though she can’t say she’s looking at anything in particular.

❝ as someone who makes decisions for himself and only himself, ❞ illumia scoffs, because that isn’t entirely true, but dusk continues as if he hasn’t heard her, ❝ i can say that making a decision based on what you want alone is a good one. especially one as productive as choosing to be a doctor. ❞

❝ thanks, dusky, ❞ she says, teasing him with the name vista has for him, then says more seriously, ❝ i appreciate it. ❞

over the years, her definition of ❛ freedom ❜ has changed. it used to be about disobeying her parents and running off in the middle of the night, dirtying her clothes and feigning innocence if her mother caught the stains in the morning. now it’s so much more than that. something more powerful.

freedom isn’t necessarily about breaking the rules ( though sometimes they are ). it’s about establishing your own rules and making your own decisions, of choosing your own path in life despite condescension from those around you. it’s having faith in your own decisions and learning to live without regrets.

she still has a long way to go, she thinks, but she’s getting there.

#「♔」illumia farryn #「♔」illumia farryn | isms #「♔」illumia farryn | para #「♔」para #「♔」worldbuilding #i'm just gonna tag all of these as worldbuilding now idk

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