#Flames | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

trulyumai · 10 months ago

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a fire set loose upon blood

—paring: Messmer / wife! reader

synopsis: with queen marika learning of her sons marriage, she called him to the capital, forbidding the man to marry into such a low family. Messmer became angry, the flames taking over his will once more.

—warnings: talking down, violence, light cussing.

The grand hall of the royal palace was alive with a murmur of anticipation, the high vaulted ceilings echoing with the sound of nobles and courtiers preparing for the evening’s festivities. Gold and white drapes adorned the walls, their opulence a stark contrast to the underlying tension that simmered within the room. At the head of the hall, the throne loomed, a symbol of Queen Marika’s unyielding authority.

The siblings were no where to be seen. For why would they show when Messmer needed them so?

Messmer stood in the center of the room, his regal attire starkly contrasting with the turmoil that brewed beneath his composed exterior. His eye, dark and stormy, fixed intently on the figure of his mother as she ascended the throne with a grace that belied the iron will behind her serene facade.

Queen Marika’s presence was commanding, her poise a perfect blend of royal dignity and maternal authority. Her eyes, however, were steely as they regarded her son, her posture unyielding as if the weight of the crown had become an even greater burden in recent times.

“Messmer,” she began, her voice carrying the crisp authority of a queen used to having her commands followed without question. “I have called you here to discuss a matter of utmost importance.”

Messmer’s gaze remained steady, though a flicker of anger danced in his eye. “Speak then, Mother. I am here, and thee will listen.”

Marika’s expression remained impassive, but there was a subtle tightness around her lips that betrayed her unease. “It has come to my attention that you continue to spend time with that… woman, the one of whom I have spoken before. Her status is beneath the dignity of the royal family. She is not of noble blood, and her presence in your life could compromise the integrity of our lineage.”

The words struck Messmer like a physical blow, his face darkening with a mixture of anger and hurt. “Are you referring to my wife?”

Queen Marika nodded, her gaze unwavering. “Yes, my child. Her origins are humble, and her social standing is not fitting for a prince of this realm. I have tolerated your infatuation for too long. It is time to end this folly.”

Messmer’s hands clenched into fists, the tension in his jaw evident as he struggled to maintain his composure. “You cannot simply dictate my heart, Mother. My wife is not only kind and virtuous, but she has shown me a love that transcends titles and lineage. She is more noble in spirit than many of those you deem worthy.”

Marika’s eyes narrowed, a cold edge to her voice. “Love is a luxury we cannot afford, Messmer. The duties and responsibilities of royalty must come before personal desires. You must consider the future of the kingdom, the alliances we must secure. Your marriage must strengthen our position, not diminish it.”

“Strengthen?” Messmer’s voice rose, a mix of frustration and defiance. “Are you suggesting that my happiness, my very heart, should be sacrificed for political gain? This is not merely a matter of alliances or appearances. It is about who I choose to spend my life with, who I love.”

Marika’s gaze remained steely, her voice a firm command. “You will cease this association with her immediately. You are a prince, a knight, and you must act according to your station. You are not to see her again. This is a royal decree.”

The finality in her voice was unmistakable, yet Messmer’s anger flared, his body trembling with the force of his emotions. “A decree?” he spat, his voice laden with contempt. “You would reduce my feelings to a mere decree? I will not comply, Mother. I refuse to end my relationship with her I will not let you dictate my heart.”

The room fell into a tense silence, the murmurs of the court dying away as Messmer’s declaration reverberated through the hall. Queen Marika’s expression hardened further, her regal demeanor unshaken despite the challenge posed by her son.

“Do not be a fool, Messmer,” she said, her tone cold and cutting. “You are treading dangerous waters. Your disobedience will not go unnoticed, and the consequences will be severe. You cannot defy your mother, your queen, without facing repercussions.”

“I am aware of the consequences,” Messmer shot back, his voice unwavering. “But I will not live a lie or endure a life devoid of love for the sake of appearances. If you choose to punish me for this, so be it. But know this: I will not abandon my wife. I will stand by her, no matter the cost.”

Marika’s face flushed with a mix of anger and disbelief. “You are speaking recklessly. You do not understand the gravity of your actions. This is not merely about personal happiness—it is about the stability of our entire realm. Your defiance threatens the very fabric of our dynasty.”

Messmer took a step forward, his eyes blazing with resolve. “And what of my own happiness? What of my right to choose the one I love? You speak of stability, but it is your rigid adherence to tradition that threatens to unravel everything. I am not merely a pawn to be moved about for political gain. I am your son, and I demand to be treated as such.”

Marika’s hands clenched on the armrests of her throne, her knuckles white with the strain. The silence in the hall was oppressive, the weight of the confrontation palpable. Messmer’s words hung in the air, a challenge to the very authority his mother held so dearly.

“You are making a grave mistake, Messmer,” Marika said, her voice strained but resolute. “You will regret this defiance. The path you choose will lead to ruin, and you will have only yourself to blame.”

“Then let it be so,” Messmer replied, his voice steady despite the turmoil within. “I will accept whatever consequences come my way. But I will not forsake my love. If that is my price, then so be it.”

…

“You persist in your defiance, Messmer,” Marika’s voice was cold and unyielding. “You dare to disregard my decree and associate yourself with that woman, Her presence is an affront to the dignity of this royal house.”

Messmer’s anger was palpable. “You cannot dictate my heart, Mother. I refuse to end my marriage. She has been my steadfast companion, and her worth is beyond the constraints of royal lineage.”

Marika’s eyes narrowed, her resolve hardening. “Then you leave me no choice. If you will not heed my words, I shall act to preserve the integrity of our realm.”

With a decisive gesture, Marika signaled to the guards of grace stationed by the grand hall’s entrance. Her voice rang out with unyielding authority. “Seize his so called wife. Remove her from this hall at once. Her presence is a threat to the stability of our kingdom.”

The guards, their expressions set in grim determination, advanced towards his wife, who stood frozen by the window. Her eyes darted between Messmer and the encroaching soldiers, fear etched across her face.

“No!” Messmer’s voice erupted in a raw, desperate roar. “Stay away from her!”

As the guards closed in, Messmer’s fury ignited. He drew his staff with a swift, practiced motion, but the weapon was not his only tool of wrath. With a surge of energy, Messmer’s eyes flared with an intense, fiery glow. Flames erupted from his hands, casting an ominous light across the hall.

The guards, taken aback by the sudden burst of fire, scrambled to shield themselves. But Messmer’s flames were relentless, sweeping through the grand hall with a ferocious intensity. The once-stately room was soon engulfed in a torrent of scorching heat and blinding light.

The flames roared and crackled, consuming the opulent decorations and gilded walls. The guards, now caught in the inferno, screamed in terror as the fire turned their armor into searing metal. Messmer fought through the chaos, his sword still flashing as he cut down those who tried to escape the blaze.

“Messmer, no!” His wife’s cry was barely audible over the roar of the fire. “Darling— please!”

Messmer’s face, illuminated by the flames, was a mask of determined fury. “If they will not let us be, then I will take everything from them. No more will they control our lives!”

With each passing moment, the fire spread beyond the grand hall, seizing hold of the palace’s wooden structures and tapestries. The heat was unbearable, the air thick with smoke and ash. Marika, her regal composure shattered, could only watch in stunned disbelief as her palace was reduced to a blazing inferno.

“Cease this madness!” Marika’s voice, though commanding, was nearly lost in the cacophony of destruction. “Stop him! Put out the fire!”

But it was too late. The flames, fueled by Messmer’s unchecked rage, surged outward, consuming the palace’s grandiose architecture. The inferno spread through the corridors and chambers, its heat radiating through the once-proud halls.

Messmer, his fury unabated, moved his wife towards the palace’s exit. The once-majestic capital, now visible beyond the burning palace, was a stark contrast to the chaos within. The fire, driven by Messmer’s rage, was spreading rapidly through the streets, turning the capital into a scene of total devastation.

Outside, the capital’s inhabitants fled in panic as the fire spread through the buildings. The cries of the fleeing people mixed with the crackling of the flames, creating a harrowing symphony of destruction. Messmer and his little wife, amidst the chaos, made their way through the burning streets, their path lit by the inferno that consumed the city.

“Messmer, we need to leave!” Her voice was urgent, her face pale with fear. “This fire—it’s destroying everything!”

Messmer’s eyes, filled with a mix of anger and sorrow, remained fixed on the burning city. “They will understand the cost of crossing me, of belittling me and having me sit by the shadows!” he said, his voice a low growl. “No longer will they dictate our fate.”

The inferno continued to ravage the capital, the flames reflecting in Messmer’s eyes as he and his wife made their way out of the city. The once-thriving center of the kingdom was now a smoldering ruin, the fire a testament to Messmer’s wrath and his refusal to be controlled.

As they reached the outskirts of the burning capital, Messmer and the girl paused, their breaths coming in ragged gasps. The sight of the destruction was both overwhelming and sobering. The palace, now a ruin of charred stone and ashes, was a grim reminder of the cost of their defiance.

Messmer, his anger slowly giving way to a profound sense of loss, turned towards the shaking girl. “I am sorry for this,” he said, his voice filled with regret. “This was not what I intended. I wanted only to protect you.”

her eyes reflecting the flames’ glow, took his hand. “We will— will be okay,” she said, her voice steady despite the devastation around them. “We will find a way to move forward. I trust you to protect us.”

Messmer nodded, his resolve tempered by the weight of their actions. The future was uncertain, and the path ahead was fraught with challenges. But amidst the ruins of the capital and the ashes of their past, they found solace in their shared determination and the strength of their bond.

The capital, once a symbol of royal might, now lay in ruins—a testament to the power of defiance and the price of love. As Messmer and his wife looked out over the burning city, they knew that their journey was far from over. The flames of rebellion had transformed their lives, and the road ahead would be shaped by the choices they made in the aftermath of the inferno.

The destruction of the kingdom’s heart was a stark reminder of the consequences of defiance and the price of love. The future lay before them, uncertain and fraught with danger, but Messmer and his wife faced it together, bound by their shared determination and the strength of their affection.

Now, there was only one place they could hide.

To the lands in between; the shadow realm that hides beneath the grace.

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