#But that won't sotp me! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dejavalentine · 1 month

Text

should this be how i introduce my @infamous-if mc no am i gonna do it anyway yeah. so hyped for the update!! can't wait to be tortured by my own voluntary choices!!!

Innes Von Yang— ‘Ivy’ or ‘IV’

she/they (nonbinary)

Vampire aesthetic. She also has a lollipop gimmick, as in, she'll go out on stage with one. She's starting bringing unopened ones onto stage to throw into the crowd since it became a thing, but it actually started because she ran onto stage one time with one and some fans thought it looked cool so she kept doing it.

Appearance wise, she has choppy dyed hair with white red and black in the mix. East asian girl with beige skin, but she does full face makeup on stage based around goth and vkei. Might do an outfit collage another time…

Goes by Ivy because it’s her initials (her parents thought von was a middle name and didn’t realize it’s meant to be part of the last name)

Her stage name though is IV, as in the hospital equipment, but cause it’s also the roman numerals for four, her lucky number. She started using it to match with Seven, and he has this as his tattoo because it’s always been ‘her number’ even before it was her stage name. She still has her tattoo as well, and doesn't bother to conceal it.

"Sev!" and "Ive!"

Similarly to how Seven doesn't like Duckstein, Ivy hates her first name and any variations of it, treating Ivy as her name. "Don't call me Nezzie!!" (unless it was high school and you were Seven getting back at them for calling you 'Ducky')

Needs glasses but wears contacts! They worked hard on that eye makeup goddammit!! They just wore glasses back in high school though.

Has a Soundcloud they’ve been using since middle school. They started posting solo songs there which are usually indie pop or some other experimental sound different from the band.

She used to play the violin, but stopped when she got older and focused more on being a vocalist and dance. Ironically? Not that good with plants.

Girl the first meeting between them and August was so funny. “August, meet IV, the one I was telling you about." “You can just call me Ivy. It's nice to meet you." “Isn’t that the same thing…?” “Nah. Ivy— I-V-Y is based off my initials. IV— I and V, is the Roman numeral four.” “…For?” “Yeah, four!” “No for what?” “What do you mean, four what? Four just…means four.”

Deadly arachnophobia. She screamed her fucking lungs out on the bus when they thought they saw one and climbed onto Rowan while shrieking at him to kill it (it was some thread).

They became way more bitter and cynical over time, but out of spite (towards their parents, the world, Seven—) remain stubbornly ambitious and laugh in the face of whatever tries to take her down. It’s just easier and less embarrassing to be volatile than wistful or a doormat. It's for the sake of pride, really.

Closeted Soft Violence fan. You will have to threaten to kill her (or catch her deeply off guard) before she even thinks of admitting this.

She projects anger and spite in front of Seven because she can't help herself. When it comes to being vulnerable, she would always stamp it down or try to cover it up. Inwardly, she’s just really sad and wanting for what’s not really there anymore and never will be. You’re in his dms I’m disgusted by the enormity of my desire!!! We are NOT the same!!!

This is similar to how she acts around her parents. She still really wants to have a relationship with them but feels she's the one who has consistently had to try to have that, which makes her bitter and embarrassed as an adult. They make her feel like a meek little kid again and this time she doesn't even have Seven to fall back on when that happens-- which makes the feeling worse. AUGHH!!!

She’s really only chasing fame because that has to be what makes all of this hurt and effort worth it. Otherwise, genuinely, what was it all for? To share their music? Don't fuck with them like that. It stopped being about 'their' music when Seven left. They're a damn good band, Ivy loves her friends, and she has fun-- but it's just not the same goal without him around anymore.

Used to hate confrontation, but now dives into drama for the hell of it (even if she won’t start it herself necessarily). Generally hates being underestimated or pitied, and doesn’t like getting help because they’re not a ‘charity case.’ Has become kind of trashy and plays comic relief with Rowan alot. Speaking of him...

Her ship name with Rowan was originally ‘IRow’ (Ivy’s a shameless atla fan) but was quickly overtaken by ‘Bloody Hart.’ They’re not into each other but they did kiss while drunk once (which for them kinda solidified the fact they aren't into each other). Fans also coined ‘Snivy’ for her and Seven, though the two never dated.

Is rooting for Piercehart. She has the edits that have started rolling in saved on her camera roll already. They've also been victims of the shipping culture though #AutumnIvy (a typo that just...stuck? August isn't even a fall month!)

Started believing in the idea of fate after Seven left the band. If it brought them together once it can do it again (she refuses to think about it or accept this being the real reason why yet and just chalks it up as her committing to the bit.)

Worst Demeanor: Tweeted ‘Taylor Swift is mid’ then put their phone on dnd for the next two days. She still has it pinned to her profile.

Pinch Me— cause I must be dreaming!

Genre: Alternative Rock, dipping occasionally into Pop Rock

Fandom: Idealists

First album: Burn the Candle

Hit song: At Both Ends

GC: pretenders

xoxo to anyone who got this far have these two drabbles. first one was inspired by the very normal line of thought ‘man what if mc died before they could make up with seven’ (+haha they swapped how they feel about fate) and the second from the fact that sev canonically thought abt mc during their dates like DUDE !!!

#ik that sev won't act as codependent in their actual romance + he and ivy never dated b4 the band broke up #but i literally could not sotp laughing abt the tweets like they were so funny to me #ivy's set ro is seven! o obviously i fear im not a hipster i love the same things everyone loves #however ! i got so attached to her that i can't make another mc for the other routes atp so she kinda gets tossed around #infamous ros nightmare blunt rotation !!#but no fr girl what are you doing homewrecking valenreign #you have more important cheating allegations to worry abt rn!!!#infamous if #seven lawless #ivy yang #interactive fiction #my mcs #intro post #?#as someone w bpd mannnn #seven is so real i fear #like i get her so bad #sorry i like seven a lot so i hit him w the he/she ification beam #i am not an avina hater they are unfortunately also incredibly real and im deeply fascinated by them #GET UNDER THAT MICROSCOPE !!!#LMAO OKAY OKAY NO MORE TAGS WAITING RESTLESSLY FOR CH3 I KNOW ILL DIE

20 notes · View notes

shipmistress9 · 6 years

Text

FTLOAP: Chapter 2: I know not if fate would have us live as one

Prologue; Chapter 1

Thanks again to all of you for the wonderful feedback I got here, on ff-net, and on AO3. You guys are awesome! :D

And, as always, credits to my beta-reader/editor/co-author @athingofvikings who sometimes comes up with the funniest bits of side plot ever ;)

. o O o .

In a daze, Astrid followed Timothy – or Tuff as everyone called him – out of the stables. All of her efforts went towards ensuring that her outward appearances were calm, typical, even placid – which was almost more than she could manage. Inside, her heart was racing and her head was a jumbled mess of thoughts and emotions, all centred around a single question.

What had just happened?

It had started so simply. She’d gone to the stables to see the new horses that House Jag’r had undoubtedly brought, hoping to spend a few hours in pleasant company, and, most importantly, not being the perfect Princess for a while.

And she’d found that, all right...

But she’d also discovered something quite... unexpected.

What just happened...

As discretely as she could, she took a shaky breath as an old memory surfaced in her mind. She remembered a visit to the southern seashore when she was a child. She remembered watching the tide come in, a wave of water that had quickly drowned the beach that she had walked across only hours before. Some of the children on the beach, digging for clams and the like, had barely been able to outrun the rushing water.

What just happened... it had felt like that. She’d been swamped by these unexplainable feelings and that… that vision... Like something was pulling her toward him, seemingly as inexorably as the tide.

Nothing made sense.

She fought hard against the urge to lift her hand to her lips, to trace where he’d kissed her. It was of supreme importance that, whatever she did, Tuff mustn’t notice anything. He couldn’t learn about what had just happened.

It was weird in a way, ironic even. It hadn’t been her first kiss. That she’d lost to Snotlout when she was seven. And it hadn’t even been her first real kiss either, because that one had gone to Eret two years ago – as part of an experiment.

No, it wasn’t just that he’d kissed her. It had been so much more than that.

She had felt it almost immediately, when he’d treated her like a human being, and not as an adornment or path to power. When he’d talked to her, had joked and laughed with her, had made her work, and had teased her. Even in those early moments, there had been something between them already, something more than just the thrill of being treated like a normal person. There had been a lightness, a feeling of rightness, something she’d never felt before, not with her brother nor with any of her friends.

When he’d first brushed against her, she’d felt like something inside had shifted into place that had always been slightly off before. She couldn’t describe it any better, but it had felt so… so… right! It had felt right to touch his hand, right to carefully caress his fingers, and so very right to nudge him during their bantering, as if she’d known him all her life. As if she should know him.

But when he’d kissed her…

There were no words to describe that feeling. The images his lips had conjured to her mind’s eye, and the sheer longing it had stirred within her. Longing for what she’d seen, but, even more so, a soul-deep longing for this man, this stranger who’d captured her heart and soul in merely a couple of hours.

And yet, it could never be.

Astrid balled her hands into fists at her sides to keep them from trembling. She needed time, needed to think and to put some order into her head. Right now, everything was just this chaotic mess. Just an hour of peace, that was all she needed. But she probably wouldn’t get an hour today anymore.

She wouldn’t even get a few minutes.

Almost without intending to do so, she wandered away from Tuff and the pathway back to the castle. Her gaze drifted to the small lake at the forest’s edge, and, as always, a peaceful smile crept across her face. It was a beautiful lake, a real lake, not some hand-dug pond full of gasping ornamental fish. The banks here were covered with reeds and cattails, and teeming with wildlife. It was her favourite place on the castle grounds.

Well, maybe except for the stables.

Her eyes were caught by the majestic swans gliding over its surface, and, as usual, there was this strange yearning deep inside her. A yearning to be as free as they were, and also a bit of jealousy at how they could chase off people that annoyed them and people seemed to respect that.

“Hey, hey, don’t you run off again, young lady!”

Astrid rolled her eyes, and sighed. Of course, Tuff wouldn’t let her have any more moments of peace today.

“I’m not running away, Tuff. I’m just…” she shrugged, trailing off. What should she say? She wanted to run away! She didn’t want to return to the castle, to the stiff rules, and the even more rigid expectations. Instead, she wanted to… to return to the stables, and back into those arms that had held her tightly, so tight that they’d almost crushed her.

She inhaled sharply at that thought. Freya, what was going on with her? Her mind drifted back to that toothy grin, to those lively forest green eyes beneath that mane of auburn hair, and she couldn’t help but smile briefly.

But it was nothing but a dream. As much as she might wish otherwise, she knew that nothing could ever come of it. She had to keep telling herself that. Her father would never allow it. As right as it had felt, and as much as she wanted it to come true, it still could never be. It was too dangerous, and she would not risk –

“Astrid, if you’re not coming with me right now, then I’m not responsible for my actions anymore.” Tuff had probably meant for his voice to sound threatening, but it just served to make her lips twitch in light amusement, despite her troubled thoughts. And it served to distract her, for which she was grateful. She shouldn’t think about this, about him. It could never be.

“Alright, Tuff,” she gave in, turned, and walked ahead of her warder, back toward the castle. “I’ll be good now. Just for you.”

“Oh, I’ll never understand women,” she heard him mumble almost incoherently. Then he added louder, “That’s good to hear, but I’m sure you’re not doing it just for me. Because I know that you wouldn’t want to miss Eret’s accolade. No, you can’t fool me. Even you can’t ignore an event like this.”

Astrid whirled around, and stared at him, eyes wide. “That’s today?” she asked disbelievingly. “His accolade is today already? Are you sure?”

Tuff shrugged. “As far as I’ve heard, yes. You see, I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Of course, I thought you’d be at the stables, and that’s where I looked for you first. At the main stables. But those were filled with hundreds of horses and dozens of stable staff from House Jag’r, and none of them had seen you there, although the old goat was there, shouting orders and making everyone stressed out.”

“Tuff! You know better than to call Eret’s grandfather that!” Astrid chided him, glancing to see if anyone had heard the impolitic remark, and then leaned in to whisper, “At least so long as we’re not behind closed doors.” And regardless of how true it was, she thought with a grimace.

Tuff shrugged and continued with his tale of woe. “Then I went to Fishlegs at the physician’s chambers, because I know how much time you spend there watching him mix all those weird tinctures and paints for his master. But he said he hadn’t seen you all day, so he sent me to his wife in the kitchens. Which was a great excuse to swipe one of the pastries Heather had just made, by the way. You know, these small ones filled with – oh, never mind. She hadn’t seen you either, but she said she wouldn’t even have noticed you with all the extra work they had because of the accolade. Looks like your father decided on that one on a whim. Or your brother persuaded him to do so, which is more likely, I guess. That way, we can get rid of the old goat – pardon, Eret the Elder faster. Anyway, Eret is the only sensible candidate, so it has to be his accolade today.”

Astrid rubbed her forehead as she filtered the small bit of important information out of Tuff’s extended monologue. “And why haven’t you said so sooner?” she inquired, and turned to hurry up the path toward the castle again.

“I would have if I’d found you sooner. You see, after Heather and the rest of the kitchen staff confirmed that you hadn’t been there all day, I went to every other place I could think of. I looked at your herb garden, at the archery range… Odin, I even went to the library, before I remembered that House Jag’r sometimes uses these remote stables as well. And then I had to come all the way out here. Honestly, you can’t expect me to remember every tiny bit of unimportant information after such a hike.”

She took a deep breath, but didn’t comment any further. She could point out any number of responses; that Eret had been her best friend since they were children, that she felt closer to him than she did to her own brother, and that his accolade was something he’d been looking forward to for years. Of course, his accolade was important. But Tuff already knew all that, so where was the point. Instead of wasting any more time and energy, she hurried on up the hill, Tuff on his long legs right behind her.

Once they reached the castle’s main gate, however, she paused. She waited for Tuff to quickly put her hair back into order as best he could, his nimble hands working to get the braids back into what he considered acceptable condition, and then shook the last bits of dust and straw out of her skirts. He gave her appearance a last once-over, and then nodded grimly.

With deliberate calmness, she stepped out into the open.

As always, several people greeted her as she walked along the road that led through the gate, minor noblemen who lived in town, merchants who bowed in their usual exaggerated manner, and common people who gazed at her in wonder before hastily scrambling out of her way. Calmly, she walked past them, smiling pleasantly as it was expected of her. Astrid hated this public part of the castle. She hated always keeping up appearances, always making a show of dignity and aloofness. She hated being this puppet, this royal figurehead. She understood why it was necessary, why the royal family needed to show strength and control. Those were subtle reminders as to who was in charge – to the kingdom, to the distant offshoot branches of her own House, to the other nobles, to the Temple, and to the common folk. Although to those commoners and peasants, it was less a threat and reminder of who was the boss than it was a calming reassurance of prosperity and stability.

But she hated wearing this mask nonetheless. Because it simply wasn’t who she was.

The inner courtyard was surprisingly busy for the time of day. There were merchants with full waggons blocking each other’s way, and servants bustling about hastily. Meanwhile, the usual groups of children were running around, playing games, but their numbers seemed greater than normal, especially with the smaller groups of youth that stood off to the sides, taking breaks.

The commotion confused Astrid, but then she remembered what Tuff had said. Eret’s accolade was tonight. Of course, the castle was in chaos, trying to prepare an appropriate feast in time.

Inwardly, her pleasant smile turned into a smirk. All this effort, and the person of honour would certainly enjoy it more if the celebrations for his grand day would instead consist of telling scary stories around a campfire. But that was, of course, out of the question.

“Oh, hey!” a familiar voice called out to them, and Astrid turned toward the plump man running in their direction. When he reached them, Fishlegs dutifully bowed to her, and then turned toward Timothy.

Right… public ground meant that her friend wasn’t even allowed to talk to her.

“I see you’ve found her,” the physician’s apprentice said, gasping for air from his short sprint. He threw her a careful smile, hidden behind a hand over his mouth which she answered with a slow blink of her eyelids. The only form of friendly greeting they could risk, even with the wedding band glinting on her friend’s finger.

“Yeah, I did,” Tuff replied, lazily leaning against a stone column that supported a gallery overhead. “Guess what? She was at the stables after all. The other stables.”

“Not surprising,” Fishlegs nodded. “I thought that’s where you had looked first, or I would have suggested it.”

Astrid gritted her teeth as the men kept chatting as if she wasn’t there. It was the law. Lowborn as they were, they were not to address her directly. And in return, as a woman, she was not allowed to speak up anyway.

It was infuriating!

She was Astrid of House Hofferson, daughter of King Osmond the Kind and sister to the Prince and future King Daniel. Since the death of her stepmother four years ago, she had been the First Lady of the kingdom. And yet she could do nothing but stand and wait until her warder was finished with his chat. She wasn’t even allowed to walk on on her own, for Freya’s sake!

Not wanting to listen to her friends joking around without being able to participate, she tuned them out as best she could. It was a skill she’d learned early in her education, mostly in regards to her tutors.

“And Eret really arrived already? Are you sure?”

The mention of her friend’s name caught her attention, and Astrid turned her focus to the conversations around her without turning or looking in their directions. There were two young women standing close-by, chatting animatedly, and Astrid grinned inwardly at their topic.

“Yes, I’m telling you, he’s here already. So there’s no point in waiting near the road to accidentally fall down in front of him. Besides, my brother said he rode one of their stallions. You know, one of these really big horses House Jag’r breeds in the eastern plains. He probably would have simply trampled over you.”

“Oh, but I wouldn’t have minded. He’s so handsome, dying at his feet might be worth it.”

“You’re hopeless.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Astrid watched the girls walk away, chuckling quietly to herself. They were right, of course, Eret was handsome with his warm brown eyes, the broad chin highlighted with a few tribal tattoos, and the even broader shoulders. She’d noticed that much, alright. She wasn’t blind. And yet, it was still funny to listen to those girls swooning over him, when she knew that his heart belonged to someone else.

Cheered up by this encounter, Astrid kept listening to the conversations around her while she waited for Tuff to go on. Those other conversations weren’t as interesting and she listened to several at once instead of keeping track of a single one. Everyone was talking over everyone else, and keeping track of the individual conversations was quite a challenge.

“So, what is it about these apples you wanted to show me. Are they any special?” one young servant said to another.

Nearby, a pair of young men were chatting. “I’m thinking about taking the King’s shilling and joining the Prince out west for next year’s summer campaigning.”

“Well, they look delicious, don’t you think? Too bad we have orders to get the other ones. I would have loved to swipe one or two for later,” the second servant said.

“Huh, Trader Bartek. You've got a good haul this visit. What changed?" asked one of the Chamberlain’s men to a nicely dressed merchant, inspecting his cart.

“I dunno, Bobby. It’s still fighting, right?” the second young man said with trepidation.

“Oh, you would do that, wouldn’t you? Ah, but I agree. It’s not like it would actually attract attention if a dozen apples or so go missing,” replied the first servant.

Meanwhile, the first young man scoffed. “Aye? So? I’ve heard André got in on one of the nobleman’s ransoms from those skirmishes, and has been showing off the purse and that awesome scar on his calf. Ever since he got back, he’s had a bevvy of girls to choose from. So, what do you think, are you coming, too?”

“No, I’m not. He didn’t get that scar from falling off a horse, or something. And not everybody comes back, remember? Jack the miller’s grandnephew got killed. I don’t think I can do that to my mother and sister,” the second young man said.

"Ah, well, with that business out west, the high roads are safe to travel again," the merchant said, sounding satisfied.

“Don’t be such a coward, Greg. The chance of actually dying in one of the skirmishes is less than for the proverbial cripple to court the Princess. Practically non-existent,” the first young man said.

“Do you think we could get away with buying an additional bag of these? The Mistress surely gave us enough money for these orders,” the servants chattered.

"Oh? I know the knights usually don’t bother merchants, but what about the bandits? They used to be quite a pest," the Chamberlain’s man said.

“Hush, she’s right over there, you fool!” the second young man hissed.

The merchant cackled. "Aye, the new lord has a way with bandits. Join the army, or hang from a tree. One forest road was just filled..."

Suddenly shaking, Astrid forced herself to stop listening. With unseeing eyes, she stared at the cobblestones beneath her feet, trying to fight off the images those last words had conjured up in her mind. She needed to get away from here, to distract herself, as those images threatened to overwhelm her. She audibly cleared her throat to catch Tuff’s attention, and gave him a stern look when he looked up at her.

“Oh, right,” he said, pushing himself off the column. “We need to get going. Still lots to do for tonight.”

“Ah, yes. Me, too. Master Mulch wants me to get more caraway, centaury, and fennel. We’re going to need those after tonight’s feast. Lots of stomach trouble to be expected. Well, I’ll see you around, I guess.” He waved shortly, and then hurried to one of the merchant’s waggons on his short legs.

Without exchanging another word, she continued on her way, Tuff close behind her, watching her. She strolled down the hallways and up the stairs, past servants who swiftly made way for her, no matter how heavy the burden was they were carrying.

Once they reached her private chambers, her shoulders slumped down, and she let out a heavy sigh. She’d successfully run the gauntlet through the public part of the castle without inflicting harm on either herself or her reputation. It might have been only a few minutes, but the role was exhausting regardless.

“No time to lose, come on,” Tuff urged – ignoring the time he’d just wasted talking with Fishlegs – and dragged her on. “Ruff? Are you here? I found her.”

Ruff appeared from the dressing room, and rolled her eyes when she saw her mistress. “How do you do it?” she asked incredulously. “It’s mid-afternoon. I braided your hair this morning. How is it possible that it already looks like you were rolling in the hay with a stable boy? Unless that’s what you did, in which case I don’t want to know.”

Astrid flinched slightly, but covered any further visible reactions by walking past her servant and entering the dressing room. Ruff’s words were awfully close to the truth, but she couldn’t let her see that.

“Close enough. She was playing with horses again,” Tuff replied.

“I didn’t play with them, I rubbed them down,” she corrected, sending a small prayer of thanks to the Gods over this change of topic. She knew the twins wouldn’t be happy to hear that, either, but it was a fairly safe bit of information. Something that wouldn’t get a certain someone into trouble.

A someone with an incredibly dazzling smile, and an irresistible laugh.

“You did what? Oh, nooo. All the dust and dirt of days on the road, and it’s all on your dress now. As if my usual work wasn’t hard enough already,” Ruff grumbled, but Astrid didn’t pay her much attention. Rachel and Timothy had fairly little work to do in comparison with the other castle servants – even taking into account Astrid’s... tendency to rattle the bars of her gilded cage. “Okay, okay, over here now. Tuff, go and heat a little water while I get her out of this dress.”

As usual, Astrid’s focus relaxed a bit while the twins buzzed around her. Out of the dusty dress, a quick wash, and into a new, even fancier dress. Then it was endless combing of her knee-long hair before it got braided once again. She would have done parts of that herself, if only they let her. But no, works like these weren’t suitable for a Princess.

With nothing else to occupy her mind, her thoughts wandered back toward those wonderful hours at the stables earlier. She remembered how happy she’d felt in his presence, how her heart had felt so warm and her head so light. She remembered how his lips had felt as they’d moved with hers, how he’d tasted. Without her help, her hand began to wander up to her mouth, but she caught herself quickly. She mustn’t give away anything.

She remembered how hot his hands had felt on her neck and waist, how his heat had seemed to flood into her and ignite her heart and soul. How she’d never felt anything even close to the bliss that merely thinking about him at this moment kindled in her chest.

Then another, older memory rose in her mind, of another pair of eyes bulging out of their sockets, and a body twisting and twitching desperately beneath a tree branch.

With a low gasp, Astrid tore herself out of her memories. With wide eyes, she stared at her reflection, fighting to keep her hands from shaking and her breathing at a normal pace.

This was different!

What happened today… It was different from what had happened all those months ago. It wasn’t the same. It couldn’t…

Astrid was well-versed at keeping her emotions locked inside her. But it was still a blessing that the twins, who probably could read her better than anyone else, were busy getting her hair in order, or else they surely would have noticed the turmoil within her.

These blissful moments she’d spent with this man, with Hiccup, had been wonderful. And all she really wanted to do right now was to go back. She wanted to hide from the world, and pretend to be just a normal girl. But that was nothing new, she often thought those things. But today was different. Today, she didn’t just wish to be a normal girl for herself. Today, she wished she could be a normal girl, because the Princess could never be with a simple stable lad. Today, she wanted to be a normal girl so she could be with him.

But she wasn’t a normal girl.

This wish, this dream could never come true.

And she would almost certainly never see him again anyway.

. o O o .

It took almost an hour, but finally, Ruff placed the swan-shaped coronet onto her hair and Tuff declared her presentable. With mixed feelings, Astrid made her way through the castle and toward the main audience chamber where the accolade would be held.

It would be one of those events she usually dreaded the most. She wouldn’t need to do anything. She just needed to be present, to smile, and to behave while the men went about their business. She would need to wear this mask of aloofness and fake smiles all night, during the accolade itself and during the elaborate dinner afterwards. That alone would usually be reason enough for her to find some excuse, any excuse, to arrive as late as possible, to leave early under the pretence of a headache, or to not show up at all.

But for her best friend she could endure it all.

She arrived just in time to slip through the royal’s entrance into the massive, high-ceilinged and splendidly decorated room. She took her place in the smaller but still quite ornate chair next to her father’s throne. Daniel, who sat on the other side, gave her an amused smirk at her late arrival while her father threw her an irked and scolding look. Of course, he wasn’t happy about her absence earlier, but, honestly, what had he expected?

Beside them stood some of the High Priests, here to witness the accolade as well. Lord Alvin, the Priest of Odin, who was one of the King’s oldest advisors. Lord Throg, the Priest of Thor, who also was the King’s loyal general and defender of the kingdom. Lady Gothi, the Priestess of Frigga, who was older than any living being remembered, and who was said to be able to tell truth from lie, just like every member of her order. And Lady Mala, the Priestess of Freya, a beautiful woman who Astrid assumed to be more than simply another advisor to her father.

They stood to either side of them, the men next to Daniel and the women next to her, and, as usual, their presence made Astrid nervous. She wasn’t sure whether Lady Gothi needed spoken words to detect a lie, or whether she was able to see right through her mask anyway. And the services Lady Mala offered in the name of the Goddess of Love – well, no, they didn’t make her nervous.

They made her curious.

Beyond from the small group of people up on the dais, the room was brimming with people; the benches had been removed, and it was standing room only. Only a few strides from the foot of the dais stood the witnesses and guests, with the higher ranked members in front, and whatever servants had managed to sneak in or who were circulating through the chamber as needed.

Eret the Elder was front and centre, having emerged from his semi-retirement in managing his House’s third-largest stud farm for his grandson’s accolade, and leaning on his cane. Flanking him was what seemed like half of House Jag’r’s vassals, plus all of her father’s own immediate vassals. But that was to be expected; House Jag’r was one of the three great Arch-dukedoms – what had been princedoms in their own right before her grandfather had unified the kingdom – and their horses were widely seen as superior in quality among all of the local kingdoms. Other dignitaries, officials, a few prominent subjects from the cities, and anyone else that could beg an invitation were here.

And each and every single one of them seemed to be chattering on and on, their voices echoing off of the stone walls, the tapestries insufficient to swallow the noise.

“All Gods above, I probably don’t even need to fake a headache,” Astrid murmured, sure that nobody could hear over the deafening noise in the room. But Lady Gothi shook with what probably was silent laughter at her words, and her father threw her an exasperated look. Before he could say anything to berate her, however, the fanfares sounded. They drew everyone’s attention toward the big front gates that opened now to permit a small group of men.

At the front came His Grace Sir Eret II, Grand Duke of Eastervale, Head of House Jag’r. He looked regal as usual, and the sight of him served – somewhat – to calm Astrid’s unease. As annoying as all this was to her, it was still about people she cared for. Lord Eret had always been like a second father to her, and he was more like family to her than the distant branches of House Hofferson scattered all over the country.

Behind the Grand Duke walked the person of honour for this night. Astrid had to bite her lip to not laugh at the almost comically exaggerated formal outfit Eret wore. It was customary, of course. He was to become a knight in a few minutes. Of course, he had to look stately and noble and all. But she knew very well that he enjoyed dressing up like a pompous monkey just as much as she did. That being said, he did look very dashing in the brocaded silks and silver-chased chainmail, although the rampant horses embroidered on his deep blue tabard seemed almost excessive. The finely tooled riding boots, on the other hand – utterly impractical for actual riding, with the elaborate patterns embossed into the leather that would quickly be worn smooth and filled with dirt during any actual riding – were most assuredly over the top, however. And they looked so stiff and new that she marvelled he could walk in them.

As his party came closer, Eret threw her a wide grin and winked, and she couldn’t help but grin back. She hadn’t seen him in months, but those gaps had never been able to tear down their friendship. Of course, she could have met him earlier already if she’d been there to greet him and his father. But then, she actually had expected him to ride with their horses instead, so it was his fault alone that they hadn’t met earlier. Kind of…

Not that she actually blamed him. If Eret had been there to tend the horses, she wouldn’t have spent those wonderful hours listening to that voice like molten honey and watching those beautiful eyes gleam excitedly.

Eyes that suddenly flashed at her from behind Eret, and that made Astrid’s heart burst with joy and sink with fear at the same time.

. o O o .

Next Chapter

#For The Love Of A Princess #hiccstrid #hiccstrid fanfiction #Hiccstrid Royal AU #Hiccstrid Medieval AU #Honsty I'm so invested in this story that can't be healthy #But that won't sotp me!

41 notes · View notes