#𝐢.⠀⠀···⠀⠀konstantin rasputin⠀⠀:⠀⠀thread. ⠀⠀◗

[fatedfables]

𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖗𝖎𝖉

whom: the hon. konstantin rasputin of the shadow realm and the lady astrid bjorgman of arendelle . when: the twenty-eighth day of the fifth month in the year 1885, under the reign of his royal highness king adam, the beast of conques. where: the city of corona the occasion: the coronan lantern festival, spanning from the twenty-sixth day, to the thirtieth.

❧︵┈𝖐𝖔𝖓𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖓 𝖗𝖆𝖘𝖕𝖚𝖙𝖎𝖓┈︵❧

it was a point of pride for a man such as himself, to belong no-where and yet be everywhere. his first weeks out of the shadow realm had been spent gaining knowledge. listening to the whispered gossip that circulated around the crowds at the balls he attended, often with no purpose or partner save the shy royal who from time to time decided to give them a chance or one of his fellow compatriots of the shadow realm finally becoming bored enough to request a dance. 

that was how he had learned the names that belonged to the various faces he was stuck with day in and day out. it was also how he knew that this particular face belonged to a widow. astrid bjorgman of arendelle, a land he’d never even heard of before leaving the shadow’s. his fathers specter could only tell the boy so much growing up, guiding his hand as he venture deeper into the knowledge of the dark arts. as he made his own pact.  

strange that a widow would return so quickly into society, despite himself he was curious and as they often said, curiosity killed the cat. it was how he found himself approaching her, the lantern balanced in his hands after following the crowds down to the boats. it was time for the main event. some silly tradition involving lights and a wish. wishes weren’t granted by lanterns and intention, but he would hardly be the one to tell this lot that. 

“good evening, lady astrid, you look lovely.” mostly true. she was hardly his type, but she wasn’t hard on the eyes either. more neutral than anything. and he steeled his nerves for a long evening of pretending to be engaged by mindless chit-chat that he cared little about, if at all, for the sake of getting the answers he desired. “might i join you?” and he offered an innocent enough smile, effecting just enough sheepishness to be genuine. “i think the other boats are full, and i would hate to miss this. everyone says it is a sight to behold.” 

[fatedfables]

what care i of colds when there is such a man?

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