#fillespreferees

[incendiums]

Convictions of a Steadfast Star { Cigyun || Kurth

[ Prince Kurth of Grannvale — Friend. If Nothing Else ]

What undoes Kurth is the fact that the stars are unmoving, as they are steadfast in their gaze and unfaltering in their path across the sky. The refinements of polished society suit her well—it reflects in her manner of poise and the way her eyes give off a silent, faithful glow in the direction of another. His dear friend has the means to undo Kurth, and she does so every time she plants her heels on cold tile, waiting for warmth to reach her roots. It struck him odd that she would not allow herself to come apart, no matter how roughly her husband tugged at her loose threads.

What warmth could come to a star who could not come apart, but sought the orbit of another?

He descended the stairs, waving off the troves of socialites and advisors biting at his heels for something more than he was. His footsteps clacked with a well-tempered warmth, of which he'd gladly trade his friend in exchange for her gaze to falter— just once. The pianoforte was close enough for him to tease. "Are you willing to play for me, Cigyun?" She had no need to— but the vision of her dancing away at ivory keys was delightful. "I jest. I would never put you on the spot like that."

Kurth could not help but cast the corner of his gaze on the unsightly philandering of one such Victor Velthomer, but he refrained from mentioning his disagreeable countenance. The infamous man had another woman hanging off his arms, as though his footwork could attract every insatiable flower aside from the one that was actually his. Kurth's gaze followed the soft glow of Cigyun's curls instead, as his chest lifted in prim, composed pride. "You know as well as I that your good humor belongs on the ballroom floor."

Extending his ever steady hand in her direction, he wondered if he had any right to deign her an unfaltering star. What exactly would that make him? (Cut from the same velvet, perhaps? What right did he have to intervene then?) Kurth was hardly in tune with his own expressions, as the soft crinkle of his eyes cracked through his more stoic countenance. His reputation of being straighter than an arrow could almost be deemed a mistake in good company.

Kurth's hand extended, falling away from his own trajectory into hers.

"Would you do me the honor of reserving your next dance for me? I cannot mistake a great moment of happiness when I see one."

@fillespreferees

[sunsinger]

@fillespreferees​

( “ what if i never see you again? ” ) Her son gives voice to her own fears. What will happen when their service to Askr has ended? Seliph has a kingdom to return to and people who need him. And she...she does not know if there even is somewhere for her to return.

But a smile remains on her face. She's smiled through her pain for him before when Sigurd left them behind in Augusti with Shannan and she will smile for him now. He should not need to see the turmoil inside her heart. She is his mother and she must be strong for him.

Deirdre reaches for her first born and pulls him in close. "Then we shall just have to make the very most of this time we have been given." One hand gently combs through the soft waves of his hair and she kisses his cheek. "I have missed so much. Will you tell me everything? Let me feel as though I have been a part of your life all along."

∘₊✧── she is ethereal, his mother. he had seen it in his dreams before, glimpsed a suggestion at what she may have looked like, but to actually see the woman that he had heard so much about...

there is a comfort in her arms that suddenly makes him feel incomprehensibly small -- makes the world as a whole vanish, fade further and further away until there is nothing left to it but her loving warmth.

“of course,” his voice is quiet, careful not to disrupt the moment for fear of it truly having been nothing more than another dream. seliph smiles at the affection, turning his face just so slightly away in that manner of a shy child. for he may be a king -- the proclaimed scion of light -- but here and now he is allowed what war had denied him the right to be.

a son. 

“my entire life you have guided me from afar,” his hands reach for one of hers, cupping it gently as though the most precious thing his own have ever touched, “thank you, mother.”

[prosebrne]

it was a wedding day that brought her;   defiant to death’s hand as she was summoned upon stone at the arch of a gateway door.   it was a summoner and their royal companions that welcomed her into this new,   strange country;   askr,   it was called.   selphina greeted them as a proper leonster would,   and kept her head high as she was led through corridors and pathways behind the sun’s pupil herself,   princess sharena.   selphina was always a friend before a wife,   then a mother;   she listened well to princess sharena’s tour.   of course, the whereabouts of her husband outshone most of her internal thoughts,   for if she was a bride in this ceremony then where was the groom she was to fight beside?

even at the end of the tour,   selphina did not find her husband.   she found her.

leonster pride in her smile,   attire alike that the very same of their meeting together.   selphina quickly bid princess sharena a farewell,   clutching dearly to her skirts as she rushed off in graceful steps.   it was her,   that she was certain of.   prince alfonse had spoken of the many heroes of other worlds,   those of hers and those that were not.   but he had never spoken of the dead.   even now, as selphina caught up to the courtyard,   entranced by the sight of flowers curled around the fountain,   there was nothing dead about the pink   -   haired lady standing before her.

“   ethlyn...   is that you?   ”   selphina whispered,   her chest heaving despite the unwavering steadiness of her voice.   she trembled when the lady turned towards her,   only then aware of the wetness of her face,   the stinging in her eyes.   she swore not to cry,   not to herself or glade or any of her dear friends.   but...

“   oh ethlyn—   ”   another cry left her as she closed the distance,   throwing her arms around ethlyn’s shoulders and knocking her weight carelessly into the other’s.   it was not a ghost,   she knew this upon the first touch.   this ethlyn did not disappear when selphina called her name.   she did not come alive for but a moment,   if only to taunt her.   it took moments for selphina to remember who it was that she had been crying against.   reluctant,   selphina pulled back,   raising her head from the crook of ethlyn’s neck and shoulder.   “   ethlyn,   you...   is this because of askr’s gates?   ”   her hand rose,   too,   brushing ethlyn’s cheek gently with the back of her fingers.

selphina laughed and wiped her tears,   ignorant to the newer tears that fell then,   “   do you remember me?   it’s selphina!   your dearest friend...   ”

/   (   @fillespreferees  ,  selphina  &  ethlyn   )   (   starter call   )

[legendspun]

[PICK] the sender helps pick up something the receiver dropped. ((Guinivere for Fae!))

meet meme | open

Miss Guinevere was a lot like Mr. Roy, Fae thought. They both looked at her with kind eyes, and told her to stay safe during battles and so she really liked them! But Igrene had said they were some of the most important people on this important mission so Fae wasn't allowed to ask them to play like the others.

(Miss Guinevere's eyes were kind, but Fae noticed they were most often sad. She really wished they could play.)

Igrene used to go on missions, and Fae is happy just to be on one with her. Outside, like she's always wanted! She isn't quite sure what's going on in this one besides collecting weapons and fighting the bad men from Bern. Maybe if she paid more attention to Igrene's lessons she could help Miss Guinevere more?

But those thoughts like many of Fae's so often scatter in the wind like the leaves she's been collecting. Her arms are full of the leaves, each a different, changing color but the mountain path they are all on causes her to trip and her favorite red one almost flies away until Miss Guinevere catches it and holds it out to Fae.

"Thank you," the little manakete chirps, holding out one hand. She stills though, looking from her other arm filled with leaves to the perfect red one resting in Guinevere's otherwise empty hand. Fae covers that hand with her own, gently.

"Do you want to keep it? It was going to be Fae's treasure but look there are so many! This one can be Guinevere's treasure."

[cavaliant]

“We always have a choice.” ((Deirdre for Sigurd?))

Sentence meme

"Of course we do" is his immediate response, yet Sigurd pauses for a moment, to better reflect on her remark. As impulsive as he's told he is, as much of a whirlwind as their relationship might be - it's something he wouldn't trade for the world, and he wants to nurture it in every way that he can.

"Deirdre, my beloved. You and I both have all the choices in the world before us, no matter what our pasts, others, or even 'destiny' may say. It is our choices up till now that have led us to each other...and if you wish it, it will be our choice from now on to pursue our future together, with our hearts as one. But know this - whichever path you choose, I intend to honour my vow to protect you, whether from fear or from even fate itself."

[seraphiam]

@fillespreferees

sigurd stares up at the high vaulted ceilings of belhalla castle, trying to make sense of his current predicament. he’s lost track of how long it’s been since he and his army faced the wrath of meteor. how long had he been stuck here in belhalla castle, unable to interact with any of the people that passed him by? for all intents and purposes he is nothing but a ghost to the people around him— though he craves human interaction, it is never given to him.

if he did not know any better, he would think this some kind of hell meant only for him. however, there is one thing that keeps him going, and it is the occasional presence of his beloved deirdre. he had been so distressed upon seeing her the first time, had reached for her shoulder and had his arm pass straight through her body. he had cried that very first time, for she was so tantalizingly close but just out of his reach.

now though, as sigurd had been given sometime to process what had happened, he vowed to watch over her within the castle— for as long as he was stuck here. he could do nothing if she was ever truly in danger, but being without her for so long just being around her was enough to calm the anxiety in his mind— especially so after he had realized why she did not seem to recognize him at that fateful day of belhalla.

she did not remember him— her memories of him taken away by someone or something. sigurd pauses, turning his head at the sound of a door opening. speak of the devil, deirdre herself. he watches her for a moment, pointlessly moving out of the way (he would just pass through her, anyways.) as she walks in his direction.

[enfabled-archive]

            it's not often that he finds himself so uneasy within the borders of dakia. he's lived in the forest long enough that it's begun to feel like an extension of himself. he knows it better than the back of his hand; each gnarled root, each boot-trodden path of grass etched deep into the back of his eyes. dakia forest is the kingdom of which he is sovereign— never did he feel so skittish at its throne.

            and yet, as he patrols this humid night, he is fussful. careful in a way that he rarely ever is. the dandelion king walks the same route, traces the skirt of the woods with the same steps. but his feet lack the confidence. his eyes skip side-to-side with mistrust. where his rounds were usually strolls— moreso a contented meandering 'round dakia's borderline, complacency abound in the way its safety seemed always guaranteed— it has turned into a march.

            perne keeps a hand on his sword, fingers drumming against its pommel. THOSE IMPERIAL FREAKS… they were getting a bit brave, looming closer and closer to his turf like that. he's heard about what they've done to tahra— even seen the horrors for himself, from some of the fleeing townsfolk. then there's also the childhunts; the fucking insanity of the childhunts. he doesn't like the sound of that coming into dakia. not when their operations were risky enough as it is.

            he sighs as he steps over a fallen log. his eyes survey the darkness once more. he never liked this feeling. fear; anxiety, whatever else people called it. he never liked the way it kept him on a leash. but it's the one thing keeping them all from doing anything STUPID. if fear made him careful, and being careful meant being alive… he'd take it. anyone who wasn't shit for brains would.

            unfortunately for him, there are some real dunces in this world— like the brat blindly stumbling through his forest.

            he flinches when he first hears the footsteps. his restless hands quickly unsheathe his blade. but just as soon as he readies himself, he returns to a semblance of ease. the sounds are too clumsy to come from any sort of trained militiaman; and the shadow is too small to be anything dangerous. no, it's clear to him that this wasn't any sort of idiot— it was a kid.

              a curse almost wrests loose from his lips. he thinks dealing with an imperial soldier would've been easier. at least, then, he wouldn't have felt bad stabbing him.

            "oi, kid!" perne calls, "whatcha doin' out here? don't cha know it's dangerous wanderin'  around at night?"

            a groan leaves him. as if he hadn’t had enough things to worry about tonight. does he really have to think about this snot, too? "look, i ain’t got the time to deal with ya. scram! go back home. else those loptr lunatics'll snatch you right up."

@fillespreferees​ c’mon, before safy finds out!

[prosebrne]

from @fillespreferees​   :   ❛   thanks for being here with me.   ❜   ((   Ethlyn for Selphina?   ))

askr feels all like a dream to the leonster,   and reality only continues to confuse her each morning when ethlyn is the first face that greets her.   this morning is a slow one; neither askran princess, prince, or commander have barged into the barracks with the urgency of a task.   ethlyn was there,   near selphina’s bed,   when she opened her eyes,   and she’s still there when the leonster awakens from dozing off.   an ungloved hand pulls gently at her cobalt tresses;   selphina sighs and tilts her head against ethlyn’s hand.   it is a silent,   slow morning,   but she knows well enough that they both deserve each long moment.

(   you feel at peace.   )   selphina hears ethlyn’s murmur through the fog in her head.   (   you no longer hear the crash of bells in the aftermath of meeting her eyes.   if it took an unrelenting clutch on her to heal your heart then you would stick to her as if the fates would have it no other way.   )   she blinks at ethlyn, legs curling up beneath the duvet as a bit of air slips beneath it.   her hands are still in her hair when selphina registers her words with a gentle hand reaching for her cheek.

she ignores the memory that burns at her eyes.   “   no,   do not thank me.   ”   she whispers,   because it truly could not have been her will thought brought them both together.   if anything,   it was a gift from the fates in response to selphina’s loyalty to leonster;   to ethlyn.   but still,   it was nothing of selphina’s.   it was not a conscious decision.   “   i hadn’t ... nothing of my doing had brought me here.   it is a blessing of askr.   ”

her thumb rubs ethlyn’s cheek and she laughs,   a melodic sound of chimes and joy.   “   but, thank you for coming back to me.   ”

broken words cling onto your tongue—   thank you for all you’ve done,   for me,   for your family.   (   and you would say it to her if not for the guilt in your throat.   )   she feels the tears before they have the chance to fall.   selphina moves out of ethlyn’s hold with another laugh,   her hands wiping away at her dry face as she rises from the pillows.   she no longer feels sorrow,   but some emotion akin to it gnaws at her.   she doesn’t have the time to identify—   and truly,   she isn’t sure if she’ll ever want to.

“   up with you!   ”   selphina teases,   a loving smile on her lips as she swats at ethlyn’s shoulder.   “   are you not hungry?   i’d rather cry with food in my stomach,   so let’s see what the kitchen has today.   ”