#men who are so devoted to you that it’s almost overwhelming at times….. bc their love is just. sososo heavy and so steady

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

yuta and suguru are my favorite jjk characters…i think i have a type

YOU DOOOOOOO YOU DO!!!!!!!! i’m also weak to men defined by their overwhelming devotion don’t worry anon 🫂🫂🫂 this is a safe space!!!!!

[arthurdrakoni]

Three is set in Ancient Sparta. It follows a trio of helots who are on the run from a band of 300 Spartan warriors. This is my review.

Three takes place in Ancient Sparta in the year 364 BC.  It follows three helots names Klaros, Damar and Trepander.  They manage to survive as well as three helots can; each day's being its own small blessing.  One night, after their master Eurytos forces them and their fellow helots to get drunk and dance for his amusement, they kill their master and his Spartiates in revenge for massacring their fellow helots.  Now the three helots are on the run.  Danger lurks around every corner as they are pursued by their master's son, Nestos, and a band of 300 Spartan warriors.

So yeah, this comic is, in many ways, intended to be the antithesis to Frank Miller's (in)famous comic-turned-movie 300.  Kieron Gillen said that he was inspired to write this comic because he found 300 to be hypocritical, with how the Spartans bragged about fighting for freedom, and yet kept slaves.  From the very first pages we get a sense of this.  We begin with some helots picking olives, but then they're massacred by Spartans as part of the Krypteia.  Krypteia was an annual festival where Spartans were allowed to kill helots just for fun.  The Spartans did this to cull the helots, and prevent and slave revolts or other uprisings.  It also did a lovely job of keeping the helots in constant fear.

I suppose I ought to explain what helots are.  Helots were slaves who did all of the agricultural work, and other undesirable jobs, in Sparta.  To say that it sucked to be a helot would be a massive understatement.  Besides the Krypteia, there were several other ways to be killed.  For example, when young Spartans trained to be warriors they had a final exam to take.  However, if they successfully murdered a helot they automatically passed the final exam.

You don't really see many historical fiction comics, at least in America; it's a different story in France and Japan.  So, this comic was quite a treat, and there's a very strong commitment to historical accuracy.  At the end of the comic there are several pages devoted to explaining the reasoning behind different panels of the comic, and the historical research behind them.  There's also an extended conversation with a professor of Classical Antiquity who specializes in the study of Sparta.  

Even without all of that you can just feel that there was a lot of time, love and research put into this comic.  For example, at one point our trio of helots stop by a statue of Aphrodite, who is carrying a spear, and Trepander remarks that even the gods follow the insane way of life in Sparta.  The Spartans did indeed worship Aphrodite.  Ares was, unsurprisingly, Sparta's favorite god, but they did worship other gods.  Aphrodite is often depicted as Ares' lover, and you could make an argument that love and war spring from the same sorts of passions and emotions.  Also, all of the statues are depicted as fully painted in full color, just as they would have been in Ancient Greece. 

Another point of note is when we met Nestos' mother Gyrtias.  She's shown to clearly be the one in charge of the family plantation, especially after Eurytos is killed. Women in Sparta enjoyed quite a bit more freedom than most of the other city-states of Ancient Greece.  They managed the farms and estates while the men were off fighting wars and waging battles.  

Then there's the armor the Spartans wear.  Nine times out of ten, when you see Ancient Greek helmets they tend to be Corinthian helmets.  Corinthian helmets were the ones that covered almost all of the face, and often had plumes on the top.  Those appear here, but they're always shown to be older, more antiqued armor inherited from previous generations.  The overwhelming majority of the Spartan warriors wear opened-face conical pilos helmets; which is what most Spartans wore at the time of the story.  

Overall, the way that Sparta feels in this comic is a nation past its prime.  It's been almost 100 years since the famous Battle of Thermopylae.  Sparta's glory days are behind it, and everyone in positions of power are keenly aware of this.  That's why 300 warriors are sent after the three helots.  Even a rebellion that small could have major ramifications for Sparta's waning way of life.   

Have you read Three? If so, what did you think?

Link to the full review on my blog: http://drakoniandgriffalco.blogspot.com/2018/09/comic-review-three.html?m=1

[ktheist]

bleed the same red | m

synopsis. they raised you to defend the weak. yet you fell for the one thing that preys on them.

alternatively, you had one job.

muses. pureblood!jimin x huntress!reader

tropes. starcrossed soulmates | e2l

words. 1.5k

warnings. rated m for depiction of death. (but no character death!)

x

the pain from jimin pushing you against the wall sears through your body before it numbs. his lips latch onto the delicate skin on your neck, just above your shoulder.

“must you do this every damn time?” you hiss, nails digging into the pristine white dress shirt that clings to his perfectly sculpted body.

“if i have to wait another day - i’ll die,” the tip of his fangs grazes your skin ever so lightly as he speaks, refusing to let any space between his mouth and your body, “i swear death is a much more merciful than you, huntress.”

you shiver at the name he calls you. bestowed by the highest priest of the temple at only the age of five right after their men tore your village down and burned the houses in search for the child of prophecy - it was god’s will, they told you.

as they had told you many things. a child whose eyes shine brighter than the red moon they oh-so-devoted themselves to. warm blood coursing through her veins compared to the stilled stream in jimin’s kinds.

you looked just like the creatures you were destined to kill.

but somewhere along the line, that child began to stray from the light. drawn to the darkness as though it was home.

“would you like that?” the tips of your nails dig into jimin’s throat - if he could breath, you would have felt him inhale sharply, perhaps, “to join your brothers and sisters that i’ve slaughtered?”

jimin raises his head. not because he’s afraid of you puncturing his airways and turning him into ashes. but because he wants to look you in your blood red eyes - he wants you to say it to his face.

“will you kill the other half of yourself?” his voice is hot and cold at the same time. as though he’s threatening you for offering him eternal slumber and yet begging you to end the centuries he’s lived, “you were just a puppet when i found you. with strings and threads and without a soul.”

something in the pit of your stomach bursts into flames. before you know it, your palms are on his chest, sending him flying across the rickety walls of the old shed. dust fills the air from his pathetic land on the ground.

jimin laughs - it’s purely reactionary. an admittance of your superior strength. you share the same soul but you do not share the same abilities-

“there’s no other like me.” the words pour out of your mouth like a script. you struggle to push the bile down as the priest’s leering smile flashes at the back of your head. you swore you’d never be like them - yet here you are, repeating the words they told you as though you actually believe it.

but then again, they weren’t lying.

“of course, there isn’t.” he agrees too easily, head leaned back against the wall he just slid down from. he doesn’t make any attempt to stand up. legs splayed on the ground just like a puppet who needed its master to make him move, “otherwise, i wouldn’t have lived so many lives. wandering the face of the earth. questioning my existence only to find it in you - and yet you, my other half, refuse me.”

“in that many centuries you’ve lived, you killed millions of humans!” your voice heightens with every step you take towards him. body heating up like the sun.

he lets out a breath - something between a chuckle and a scoff. “don’t act so self-righteous. you would have too if you were born a pureblood.”

the point of your heels bumps against the sole of his shoes as you stop in front of him. you see his heart inside his chest. cold. unbeating. lifeless. while yours ache when you mourn for the lives of your parents and palpitates with every leap across the branches while you chase after one of his kind.

you’re alive but jimin is not.

“i rather die than be born as one of you.” this time, the temple didn’t teach you this. despite their motives, they still raised you to cherish life. a gift from god.

“there you go again, acting all high and mighty.” his lips curls over his fangs as his smiles. it’s wicked and ratchet and oh-so-stunning. “yet you take lives too. what? do the lives of humans have more value over those more different? i won’t say lesser, no, if anything, we are more superior.”

you lower yourself in between his legs but none of your body parts touches the dusty ground. no words form in your throat. it’s true, what he said. the temple had showed you the polished side of the coin but thwarted your tiny little hands away when you reach for it. fearful of the corroded side you might find.

that was why, when jimin, once upon a blood moon, came to you with eyes blazing as red as your own and a scent as sweet as honey, you had slipped your hand into his and let him defile you.

child of the temple.

huntress.

no more.

you lean into jimin’s hand that caresses your cheek. he could lower it to your neck and snap it in half. and you don’t think you would mind. because just like him, you fear a life without the other half of your soul in it.

“so pretty, my little huntress.” he coos, if there is a thing called love then the it’s the deep shade of ruby in jimin’s eyes.

his love is as cold as the enchanted silver of your dagger. it’s pierced your heart one too many times and you’re left with scars all over your body.

but his love is also everlasting.

engraved in the cosmos - the same cosmos that surrendered his death in your hands.

“i want it.” you murmur under your breath, knowing that his senses could at least catch that. no matter how weak he is - how weak the pureblooded are compared to you, they’re still stronger than humans, “your blood. i want it all.”

jimin doesn’t object. he simply brings his wrist to his lips, grazing his fangs over his fair skin. that’s when his sweet scent overwhelms you - the scent of his blood is like no other. but you don’t have fangs the way he does - you have to ask for blood when all he needs to do is kiss your pretty little neck as a warning and dig his fangs into your bloodstreams.

he watches you wrap your mouth over the wound, tongue lapping at the incisions he’d created all the while your eyes hold his. that’s the thing about jimin - he lets you take however much you want, wound him however way you wish and he’d never groan or moan in complaint. even when he’s on the brink of dying from not having a drop of your blood in weeks, he still puts your wishes before his needs. ever since he met you, no blood of humans nor nymphs (the second most delectable blood) could satisfy him. it has to be you.

perhaps it’s because of that, your hand goes to your neck, pushing your hair back to expose your neck. wordlessly, you break the contact, lashes fluttering as you keep them half-closed.

it’s five second later that you feel him shift closer to you but still managing not to move his wrist so much while you feed on him. another second for him to litter butterfly kisses all over your neck before he sinks his fangs into you.

the discomfort sears across your shoulder and knocks on your skull like a headache. but it’s nothing compared to the injuries you’ve sustained in your time as huntress.

“you taste divine, huntress.” he purrs, waves of gratification rolling off his tongue as he wipes the corners of his lips on the back of his head. it may just be wishful thinking, to have your soul woven to a living lover instead of a beatless hearted one, but you think you see the colors coming back to him. cheeks dusted pink. complexion a little less pale. and there’s more tone to his lips but that could have been your blood.

“___.” you say, heart clenching at the name your foster parents gifted you. it’s been awhile since anyone’s- “call me by my name.” 

jimin’s lips curl into a smile - not a sneer, nor a smirk but a complacent smile as he pushes your hair out of your face, “have you finally accepted a savage murderer as the other half of your soul?” rather than contempt, his words are spoken with so much serenity, you have to take a moment to digest it.

“no,” you stand up, foregoing the featherlight touch of his fingerpads. “but i swear on my name, for as long as i’m alive, you will not have to murder anyone for blood.”

his smile tilts wider just the slightest. there’s a knowing glint in his eyes before he nods to himself.

“___,” unlike his love, your name is spoken with so much warmth, you almost forgot his inborn nature, “your eyes are red. like the moon.”

x

note. jimin’s telling oc that that’s love. bc remember his ‘love’ eye is deep red? oc’s is bright red - like the moon!!

anyways, thank you for reading. hope you enjoyed it!

[enbouton]

Better Call Saul Rewatch, Part 4/30: Upon This Rock I Will Build My Church

Hero (Season 1, Episode 4)

Written by Gennifer Hutchison / Directed by Colin Bucksey

This episode deals largely with identities. Jimmy is Saul Goodman, he’s Slippin’ Jimmy, he’s Howard Hamlin, he’s his own receptionist on the phone, he’s Tony Curtis in the bath scene in Spartacus, he’s a local lawyer and a local hero. It’s fitting that we open with a flashback showing young Jimmy using the name “Saul” for the very first time, and just as fitting that it’s done without fanfare: it’s tossed out as a half-joke. “S’all good, man!” Jimmy, in a garish, slithery-looking striped shirt, leads his mark down the alley where his partner in crime awaits. The unhurried pace of this sequence is very effective, suiting the stillness of nighttime Cicero and the low-key nature of Jimmy and Marco’s con.

The flashbacks on this show (with the exception of the corner-store one) all take place at night or in dimly lit rooms; here’s some good meta that touches on how Jimmy thrives in darkness. Is it significant that the first Slippin’ Jimmy con we see is one that wouldn’t work on an honest person? Jimmy needs a mark who’s willing to make off with the "Rolex”, thinking he’s got one over on the rube who settled for $1,580 in cash.

Afterwards, Marco is radiant with admiration for Jimmy— “I love watching you work”— but Jimmy says his talents are good for beer money, and that’s about all. Again: what would have happened to this guy if he hadn’t had to leave Cicero? This is not the face of a man who’s happy with where he is in life:

(It is the face of a man who’s being "haunted by the ghost of vladimir lenin” (@deadpanwalking), but I digress.)

Back in the present, Craig and Betsy stand over a pile of money and stress that what they did was “for the kids” (sound familiar?). In substance if not style, Jimmy’s pitch to the Kettlemans bears more than a little resemblance to Kim’s pitch to Mesa Verde: “What are you gonna get from me that you won’t get from those other guys? Passion. Commitment ... If you’re with me, you’re my number one client, morning, noon or night. You call me, I’m there. I would be singularly devoted to you.” But Betsy isn’t swayed: “You’re the kind of lawyer guilty people hire.” Ouch. Exhausted and beaten down, Jimmy takes their bribe.

Nacho, now released, surmises that Jimmy tipped off the Kettlemans. I like that Nacho is as smart as Jimmy. I like that the show generally surrounds Jimmy with people who are as smart as he is. Jimmy counters that Nacho didn’t need any help making himself look suspicious, and Nacho stalks off.

As Jimmy launders his money, assigning stacks of cash to “consulting fees”, “research” and “travel expenses”, he constructs yet another alternate self, this one belonging to a narrative in which he worked for the Kettlemans.

We see Jimmy getting measured for an expensive, conservative suit, yet when the tailor steps out of the room, something wonderful happens:

#it’s like watching a baby being born #a really tacky baby

But Jimmy isn’t just using his windfall to smarten up; he’s playing a long con involving a billboard exactly mimicking one of Howard Hamlin’s, ringlets and all.

Small brain: using your ill-gotten seed money to advertise your business

Galaxy brain: dressing up as your enemy, buying a provocative billboard that you know you'll be forced to take down, hiring a film crew, then bribing a worker to fall off the billboard so that you’ll get on the local news for rescuing him

“He’s… you know, a free spirit,” Kim says, having been dragged out of the office to look at it. She demurs when asked if she and Jimmy are still friends, which, tbh, is fair enough, given how Jimmy behaves around Hamlin (we’ll get into that later). There’s lots to think about with Jimmy literally dressing up as Hamlin, recreating his look down to the smallest detail. Once again he’s taking on another persona, albeit just to achieve a short-term goal. “What kind of lawyer are you going to be?” Kim will ask him in season 2. It’s a question Jimmy seems to keep asking himself.

In the midst of Jimmy and Hamlin’s clash, we get an early glimpse at the tightrope Kim is expected to walk at HHM. She shouldn’t feel the need to lie about who her friends are in order to stay in her boss’ good graces, yet she does, and later on she breaks off a friendly conversation with Jimmy to hand over a cease & desist letter. With Kim, BCS dodges the “successful woman has to choose between career and relationship” trope in favour of something much more interesting, a woman facing uncertainty and unfairness in both spheres. Kim’s relationship with Jimmy isn’t even the main reason she’s treated unfairly at work, and her allegiance to HHM isn’t what’s keeping her and Jimmy apart.

The billboard comes down, but not before Jimmy has himself filmed in front of it, first speaking to camera about the injustice he’s faced, then racing up a ladder to rescue the worker whom he bribed to take a fall. It’s fascinating to watch how Jimmy tells his story here. He hits all the right beats— patriotism, bootstraps, public service, the dream of owning one’s own business— and casts himself as the all-American underdog who “scrimped and saved” to buy a billboard only to have it snatched away from him. We’ll see Jimmy employ a lot of these tropes in his advertising later on; this is his skill at face-to-face communication writ large, but the foundation of the billboard con is his ability to create situations that he can manipulate to his advantage.

When Jimmy drags the worker back up onto the walkway and the two slap hands, we finally see his angle. Watching him on the news in the HHM boardroom, Howard mutters “whole thing’s a damn stunt” and walks off. Kim gives a little smile.

The one part of the situation that Jimmy can’t control is his brother. He has the foresight to keep the newspaper from him, but he can’t account for Chuck’s pedantic attention to detail. Of course Chuck will wonder why his newspaper wasn’t delivered; of course he’ll look outside and see that all his neighbours have theirs; of course he’ll deduce that there’s something in the paper that Jimmy doesn’t want him to see, and cross-reference this against what Jimmy told him about a sudden change in his fortune; and this, perhaps combined with the urgent care receipt that fell out of Jimmy’s pocket a few weeks prior, will concern him enough that he’s compelled to go outside.

The show has already tipped its hand re: the true cause of Chuck’s symptoms, but that’s almost beside the point here: what matters is that they are real and debilitating. As soon as he steps outside, he’s overwhelmed, his senses are deranged, and he nearly runs into the path of a car in his haste to get across the road. The chaotic, visceral sequence ends with a blackly comic cut to his neighbour’s perspective. From the outside, this proud, suffering man is just a crazy guy in a space blanket, scurrying back to his door.

Misc.

“You assume that criminals are gonna be smarter than they are,” Jimmy muses to Mike. “I don’t know. Kinda breaks my heart a little.”

IIRC, the billboard, which went up for filming in Albuquerque in 2014, was how we all found out Saul’s original first name.

A wall of glass blocks appears prominently behind Jimmy and his mark as they walk down the alley. Marco’s fake ID, in the name of Henry Gondorff, bears an issue date of July 1991.

What we see of Kim’s office is devoid of personal items, except for a pair of sensible sneakers on the floor.

Timeframe: this episode picks up right where “Nacho” left off and covers a period of about two weeks. The Albuquerque Journal is dated June 20, 2002; Chuck’s copies of the New York Times and Wall Street Journal bear cover stories that were published on June 19th or 20th (they are “Israel Acts to Seize Arab Land After Blast; Bush Delays Talk” and ”Unhappy Returns: IRS Moves to Bring Back Random Audits”).

Music

“Smoke on the Water” by Deep Purple (1972), sung by Marco

“Listen” by Chicago (1969), as Marco and Jimmy smoke

“Battle Hymn of the Republic” by Herbie Mann (1969), as Jimmy launders his money. Saul plays a different version of this song in his waiting room in Breaking Bad.

“Unsquare Dance” by the Dave Brubeck Quartet (1961), as Jimmy calls the media

References

Young Jimmy offers to take his mark to a place “a couple blocks off Cermak”. He’s referring to Cermak Road, a major east-west thoroughfare that runs through Cicero, neighbouring Berwyn, and parts of southern and western Chicago.

“Super 170 Tasmanian wool”: the “Super” number corresponds to the diameter of the wool fibres; the higher the number, the finer (and more expensive) the cloth. 170s wool suiting is very fine, soft and lightweight. More info here.

Sea Island cotton: a variety of extra long staple cotton historically grown in the Caribbean and named after the area of South Carolina:

“Sea Island cotton is the ultimate choice for any suiting connoisseur due to its unrivaled softness and second skin-like feel. This ancient fibre is now grown mainly in the paradise climates of Barbados, Antigua and Jamaica; its inherent long staple yarns create a silky yet strong surface, resisting wear while smoothing over time. Extremely scarce, it makes up just 0.0004% of longer staple yarn production.“ (Turnbull & Asser, where you can buy a Sea Island cotton shirt for £345/$456)

French cuffs: double cuffs that are folded back and fastened with cufflinks; a very formal style

Club collar: a white collar with rounded points, created by alumni of Eton College who wanted their dress to indicate that they belonged to that exclusive “club”. All in all, the elements of Hamlin’s signature look connote wealth and sophistication in a formal, conservative way.

Jimmy refers to Tony Curtis’ appearance in a particular scene in the 1960 epic Spartacus. It’s worth noting that the scene, which features two men bathing together and some heavy innuendo about “snails” and “oysters”, was considered so homoerotic that it was cut entirely by the censors and only restored to the film in 1991 (source). You can watch part of the scene here.

Kim invites Jimmy to a screening of The Thing (1982), a horror film about a group of researchers in Antarctica encountering a parasitic alien entity.

While talking to reporters, Jimmy mentions Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein, investigative journalists who covered the Watergate scandal.

The Groucho Marx mirror routine Howard refers to is this scene from Duck Soup (1933).

< PREVIOUS EPISODE: NACHO > NEXT EPISODE: ALPINE SHEPHERD BOY

[meet-me-at-kingsmeet]

The (very troublesome) unification of Vere/Akielos

@exy-king @time-limit what is politics LOL,,, Im just going to answer this relatively paragraph by paragraph to keep it simple and I’ll also point out im not familiar with Australian history so if anything I say clashes then my bad lol

Delpha would definitely have to go under independent rule for several main reasons: 

Like you said, Vere and Akielos need to compromise and hold Delpha equally so there isn’t an underlying power struggle of “well THIS country has more land” blah blah blah 

Delpha is an area that has already dealt with forced intermixing (if im remembering correctly) So the people of Delpha would probably accede to the idea of independence rather than secede back and forth between the two countries. 

^^This means the people of Delpha appreciate their King’s independence which leads to one less civil war having to be worried about

I see Delpha as the beginning of city-states in Akielos and Vere especially if it will still be under rule of the King’s just advised by a council

(^^Nikandros will probably be put in charge of this council. Not only would it make sense because he is definitely one of the more higher ranked men in the kingdom, has served at Kingsmeet and as a Kyroi, and showed substantial loyalty to the King of Akielos it is the only fair political move that I can see being made for Nikandros? Like, yes Nikandros loves Damen but realistically after all the bullshit he was put through to have someone else be given that power.....BIG YIKES. Because we gotta remember Nikandros is a born bred noble/politician, loyalty to a king can really only be pushed so far)

The more public intermixing of cultures would be very healthy for other areas of the two countries to see, plus the fact that Delpha is a more wealthy land would show strong trade and power. With the right address, Laurent/Damen could make it seem like Delpha is so powerful because the kingdoms/people are combined

Avoiding Mutiny 101

Laurent and Damen would both have to immediately address the insurrection of both The Regent and Kastor:

The Regent: Pretty simple honestly? He has done a lot of damage but many veretian (and akielon) soldiers/nobles and the council witnessed the evidence against The Regent’s betrayal. Laurent would just have to have it written in the books (history/veretian newsletter??) What happened and the evidence behind it. Once it is made absolutely public that The Regent is the reason King Aleron died, and his mutiny against Crown Prince Laurent, like almost anything he has said will be put to deep shame along with anyone who still agrees to it. “Did you hear prince Laurent did this-” “That’s just what The Regent wanted us to believe. He also said Akielos was the cause of our King’s Death.” So now not only is Laurent in the clear (for the most part, it will always be a gradual step-by-step) but Akielos is no longer being held responsible for the death of their king. So basically what Laurent is gonna need to do is exactly what The Regent was gonna do to Laurent: shit talk the fuck out of him. (Honestly?? Yaaaaaass) 

Kastor: A lot of people are gonna be like “damen would never crap-talk his brother bc Kastor was family!!” like....thats great and true and all but politically that’s not going to work in Damen’s favor and knowing Laurent he is gonna wanna get this done asap. It will need to be made public that Kastor attempted to kill Damen (The originally plan seemed to be: Damen is framed for Laurent’s murder (if he doesn’t actually attempt to kill the surly fucker), and is then put on trial and killed for treason). That’s definitely murder/treason by proxy. More people sway to Damen side, let everyone know he killed King Theomedes (who everyone seemed to respect) and Kastor’s supporters diminish by quite a bit. 

Running a country is all about keeping the lower/working class people in a desired group mindset and you usually do that by having a hero, a victim, and a villian (having the reg ppl be the victims earns brownie points)

In the beginning both countries are going to to have people who dislike their own rulers, and then have the other monarch to top it off. So while the real work is slowly getting done, the first few months would have to be complete slander towards those who opposed Laurent/Damen (think of an Ad Hominem type of politics) 

Delpha flourishes and Marlas...gains a Palace??

First of all...........idk WHERE the money comes from so i’m just going to assume that both Akielos and Vere have no money issues whatsoever (im SHOOK,,Vere literally just lost a war and land like 6 years ago so???????)

YES Laurent and Damen are canonly building a palace in Marlas (see: The Summer Palace). I’m gonna shoot for the stars and say that it will be similar to what King Louis XIII did when he built Versailles (WHICH WAS VERY EXPENSIVE so that’s why I’m confused because it seemed that maybe a year at most had went by and Damen/Laurent were already building a new palace that would have to include both Veretian and Akielan style/aesthetic, I can’t imagine that being cheap and so I assume the people if Vere/Akielos could become angry at this. Seeing new Kings, one of them you probs dont trust, spend a bunch on a palace?? YIKES) BUT, it has been done before in history. 

^^^I can see the palace being built being acceptable by 

Already having the funds to build it

Using the building of the Marlas Palace to have artists/architects from Akielos and Vere work together

It creates jobs for the people!

^^^Slavery has already been abolished

The Palace is a good idea dont get me wrong. Mixing architecture, having a Palace in the middle of the two countries, and showing off both countries wealth is great for morale......But to do it within a year of power? *long whistle*

But hey i guess if Delpha is working out and they use most of the economic stability being granted from that city-state? Not to shabby

tbh im kinda pissy that i dnt kno more about the working class of Vere/Akielos

King’s Rising? No! Emperor's Rising!!

If you look at European geography, countries with monarchies are SMALL! The more bigger countries that had monarchies didn’t even really carry that title (Austrian-Hungary Empire)

Akielos and Vere uniting would make WAY to large a country to run, two King’s or not it would be way to overwhelming in a country where the people still didn’t totally get along. 

It’s difficult bc unfortunatley iphones dont exist, and, imagine an enemy country having their troops fight a war on opposite ends of Vere and Akielos: communication is going to be so important and having a messenger travel back and forth like 500-1000 miles for news?? Lmao thats hilarious

“Calling from Arles: We need support. STOP” 

 “Calling From Ios: We need support. STOP” 

middle man Marlas is like “well we only have enough troops right now for one place so who needs it more???” 

And then three weeks goes by. THATS TERRIBLE

Fast communication is essential during war. Its a main reason why the first form a telecommunication was created (see: American Civil War Morse code telegraphs)

Vere/Akielos would def need to become an empire. 

I can see this working best by removing a monarchy and switching to an empire form of ruling while then creating city-states (This is how The Roman Empire and Ancient Greece worked--lots of city states--but Laurent/Damen would have to make it work under one rule. 

god that sounds like so much messy work that would take so much time BUT THEY GOTTA WORK FAST

mainly bc i think Laurent woudln’t trust anyone to continue their work after they die so he would be up in everyone’s business like “chop chop you fuckers” 

This is looking to have very little free time for Damen/Laurent

Soldiers/Money/Communication

Money is definitely the first thing to address. It is what makes the world go round fam. Its why servants work. Its why Akielos had slaves: to save money

again if slavery was abolished than Akielos just lost a lot of money and therefore where did Palace money come from? Delpha? A large loan they took from banks? did they tell their people they took that loan? If the palace starts a deficit Laurent/Damen are fucked

Training soldiers together is a great way to intermix the people. I think building multiple training grounds across Akielos/Vere and forcing the soldiers to interact and work together. 

What’s really good for an economy, forces soldiers to fight for each other, and also could destroy nasty internal nationalism? A WAR!!

Laurent and Damen are gonna have to pick fights with other countries outside Patras/Vask (and do this after they stabilize alliances with Patras/Vask

Let me tell you about M.A.I.N.

To unite their people and start and win a war they will need to:

Glorify the military as a way to draft more soldiers (Akielos already seems to have a glorified military so wee)

Showcase Alliances: “Vere and Akielos will protect each other!” “Our alliances with Patras/Vask are stronger bc of Vere/Akielos uniting!” Obligation to fight if allied nation does, shit like that

Imperialism: steal land for trade?? idk this one isnt that important unless you can think of how it can be useful

Nationalism!!: THIS IS A BIG DEAL!!! Nationalism is and always will be a current issue. Nationalism and Religion are the two main big reasons a war happens. Vere/Akielos both suffer from obvious nationalism. (Please keep in mind that Nationalism in M.A.I.N. is not friendly competition. Its a very unhealthy and intense devotion to a country and leads to xenophobia). By having a war, Vere/Akielos can be like “Look at this other country we are fighting. We are much better than that stupid, pathetic, country. Let’s unite and fight and take!! (there’s the imperialism!). 

Language of the people!

FUCK ME

this is some shit that won’t be fixed immediately 

Veretian and Akielon will both have to be taught (do they have schools?? im pissy again) 

People will have to learn the languages in their own way. 

If soldiers are forced to intermingle and fight together it will quicken the learning

The common people will be the reason new phrases and words will combine and a new language will be created

If the kingdom/empire tries to prioritze a language it will piss a lot of people off (cause nationalism) so common people mixing the language into creating an entire new one for the united country is the main way I could see this working out

Marriage and Heirs!

I know you said this was a whole other bag of cats but its a VERY IMPORTANT bag of cats

Uniting in marriage is a very common way of uniting/creating alliances. 

It doesn’t always bring the people together BUT if the marriage works and the politics move swimmingly and the heir becomes beloved (in our world, if it was a male heir it was like FUUUUUCKK YAAAASS QUEEN) it can create a really strong bond!

If you have an heir

Smudge that idea away all you want it is the main reason for marriage alliances. 

Im not kidding if the couple didn’t produce an heir the alliance could collapse 

i can’t stress this enough like not just politically this was/is a HUGE deal to the common people too

So Damen and Laurent get married. Now they have united their kingdom through marriage, yay! Step one complete

Now they need an heir. 

NOT JUST ANY HEIR

The point is to mix Country A and Country B

so let’s look at it this way:

Damen has an heir. It can be from Jokaste or a Vaskian woman doesn’t matter 

It has to be Damen. Maybe Akielos won’t care who the mother is bc that’s their culture but we need to worry about Vere’s culture too now. 

If Damen chooses an heir that’s Akielon or a Vaskian, it will probably be more of an insult to the Veretian people if anything. 

There’s...no Veretian bloodline...where is Vere’s stability?? 

This means, going by history that if Damen doesn’t have an heir that’s half Veretian........the marriage is honestly kind of moot 

Damen will have to eventually have a child with a Veretian woman (noble, most likely). That doesn’t necessarily mean he’ll have to marry her. I think They could get around that by claiming the baby as “not a bastard bc the mother is a surrogate” 

BUT YEAH heirs are super important so that’s honestly how I see it needing to go

YEP its long sorry about that. My main knowledge of history is Ancient Greek/Roman and French history (Which was before i read capri believe it or not) so that’s what this stuff is heavily based on along with other histories too of course. 

Hope I helped and sorry if it’s confusing or somthing and totally hmu again if you have more questions/wanna keep talkin bout this <<33

[closetcasefabray]

when you traced your fingers, drew my spine [part 3/3]

for @ijustkeepitmovin bc good ppl & clexa. also, YAY I FINISHED IT. totally didn’t edit btw bc i smoked & it wouldn’t really improve it anyway. i’ll end up in a blackhole of weird medieval history if i tried. so forgive me for any weird mistakes.

summary:

You braided her hair, then tied it back with a ribbon your father gave you.

“Green,” you said, “to match your eyes.”

“I cannot—”

“A gift,” you said, resting your hands on her shoulders. “You were by far the best gift, Alexandria. It is only fair, for all your work and your company.” You found your own face warmed at the confession.

She smiled graciously at you in the mirror. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

“You’re welcome.”

or: one of the many lifetimes where clarke & lexa find each other. medievalish!clexa

rating: M

note: still historically inaccurate. still gay.

part 1 // part 2

When You Traced Your Fingers, Drew My Spine

3.

You’re distracted as you dine with Forwin’s family. Your nights have been spent with Alexandria pressed against you, the cool night air filled with the sound of her breath and your name whispered as something holy. You are sure you’ve never felt more blessed.

“Is Princess Constantine feeling ill?” Forwin’s father asks, nodding at your full plate.

“Perhaps not ill, but with a child?” his mother adds with a grin.

Forwin’s family isn’t entirely pleased with your marriage, but they understand the necessity. They are gradually warming up to you, but politics doesn’t demand they love you dearly as their lawful daughter.

“I do not believe so, but we are trying,” you say with a large smile, one you have mastered in all your political dealings. You take Forwin’s hand, who gives you a small smile as well. “I have no doubt we will have a strong son, like our union of your land and ours.”

Everyone seems pleased by your declaration, but you notice Forwin slip his hand from yours to reach for his wine. When he sees your inquisitive expression, a hint of a smile graces his lips and he gives you a subtle nod. Rather than express you confusion, you focus on taking a few bites of your meal.

Forwin wraps his arms around you as you lie in his bed. “Is this okay?” he asks.

You nod, and he keeps his body gently pressed to your back. He is muscular in the way other men aspire to be. You prefer Alexandria’s smooth skin and soft body, but you feel safe in his embrace. You know Alexandria is sleeping in her own quarters for the night after a long day of cleaning the ballroom in preparation of some extravagant dinner Geoffrey insisted on hosting with your father, so you don’t rush off.

You’re both quiet, and it’s no longer awkward—it’s understood between the two of you. You have a good friendship, and you find that Forwin makes you laugh quite often when you spend leisure time together. You’ve learned a lot about him, like his love for archery. He confessed that his father once took him hunting when he was ten, and poor little Forwin wouldn’t stop crying after killing a buck in one shot.

After inquiring about your little sketches in the margins of your academic writing, you showed him a few of the sketches you’ve done. You have a natural talent, but art isn’t something princesses are to devote much time to. He understands the burden well, and much of his humor is based in the ridiculousness of the royal lifestyle. You find it refreshing to be with someone so very aware of the dated traditions. His humor and your small escapes give you both freedom from the narrow walls of the castle. When he said he was scolded for being a “dreamer” by his father as a young teen, you said, “I don’t think people dream enough. Without dreams how do we make a better reality? I like that you aspire to change things.” He kissed you on the cheek so tenderly and whispered a thank you.

“It’s nice,” he says quietly, “to have someone to hold.”

You nod and turn in his arms to face him. “It is.”

He grins and runs his hand up and down your bare arm. “Before you return to your chambers, could we speak openly?” he asks in a gentle tone.

“Yes. Of what?”

“I would not mention this if I weren’t concerned for dear Agnes’s health,” he says with a hint of a grin.

“Is something wrong with Agnes?” you question, having been quite oblivious to her older maid’s state.

“She came to me three nights ago, obviously torn about something she wished to tell me…” he hesitates, but then continues to trail his fingers along your arm, “about your maid, Alexandria.”

You feel the blood drain from your face and swallow uneasily. “What worried her?” you ask, forcing your voice to sound as calm as possible.

“She has noted Alexandria’s absences from the servants’ quarters,” he states, “as have a few others who asked Agnes to speak with me.”

Your mouth is dry, and you hate that politics has entered the bedroom. You try to take a steadying breath, but it escapes you as a kind of whimper.

“Oh, darling,” Forwin says softly, bringing a hand to caress your cheek. “Constantine, I worry not about her absence. She is a fine servant.”

You shake your head and pull away from him, sitting up in bed. Tears begin to flow freely. “And what do you make of her absences?” You curse yourself at the sound of your trembling voice.

“I know she isn’t causing harm, and she is always on time for her duties and completes all the tasks asked of her. There is nothing to make of it.”

“But the rumors,” you manage to say as he sits up beside you, “I’m sure they were delivered as well.”

“They are but rumors,” he says quietly.

“But—”

Forwin cuts you off by taking your chin in his hand and holding your gaze. “Constantine, there will be many, but they are simply that,” he continues. “Like the rumors that we are not lovers, or the rumors that the prince and princess have other lovers. Rumors… they won’t harm us… nor will they harm Alexandria. Do you understand, Constantine?”

You wipe the tears from your cheeks as you look at him. “You…”

You can’t finish your question, but he nods. “My father,” he says in a quiet voice with a sigh, “has taken other women to his bed for his own pleasures. What we don’t discuss doesn’t exist. What we don’t argue with the peasants will never become a problem.”

You swallow down your nerves and nod. “But you… have you…?”

Forwin grins a little and shakes his head. “Perhaps in the future, but I have never been one to lust for another’s company. Love must come with it,” he says. “You… are a very special woman, Constantine. Your heart is strong, and if it beats strongest with Alexandria, I would never want to stifle that.”

Without much thought, you throw your arms around him as a new wave of tears escape you. Instead of crying in dread, you are overwhelmed with this blessing.

“We must, however, keep this from my father,” he says into your embrace.

“Even though he laid with others as well?”

Forwin nods solemnly as you part. “He is… traditional. He finds women have no right to lie with another, that it corrupts the bloodline. I fear he would at the very least excommunicate dear Alexandria.”

“We’ll be careful,” you promise.

Forwin rubs your shoulder reassuringly. “You should dress and return to your chambers to rest.”

You nod in agreement and stand to retrieve your clothing. After you slip into your dress, you turn toward Forwin who still lies in his bed. “What did you tell Agnes?”

He grins. “I asked if she too felt close to other women when she was young, so I explained that you find company of a young woman your age comforting. I’m almost certain Agnes came into the world as a worried woman with graying hair, but it was enough of an answer for her to feel relieved from her burden of knowledge.”

You smile in return. “Indeed. She has always done the worrying in the palace.” You pause as you consider Agnes’s concern. “Do you think she believes it?”

He shakes his head. “No, but I think she holds her duty as a servant to our families higher than her status among the gossiping peasantry.” He smiles in reassurance. “You’re loved by many. I would say most people worry not about who keeps you company at night; they care about food for their families and a place to make a home. Hopefully someday, more people will understand that.”

“Thank you, Forwin.”

“Goodnight, Constantine.”

“Goodnight.”

Two months pass, and Forwin has been nothing but kind toward you and Alexandria. Agnes sometimes interrupts your mild flirtations with Alexandria if you’re in public, but otherwise, no one seems the wiser.

The main concern, however, is the nausea still wreaking havoc on your body. You’re with the nurse after a morning of vomiting, Alexandria helps comfort you, rubbing your lower back and wiping your forehead with a cool cloth.

“When did you last bleed?” your nurse asks as she hands you fresh juice.

You sigh as the sweet berries erase the bitterness from your morning illness. “Over a month.”

“Well, Your Highness, you should worry not,” she says with a grin, patting your back. “Our princess is carrying our next heir. Should I tell the rest of the royal family?”

You nod and smile weakly before consuming the rest of the juice. When she’s gone, Alexandria kneels beside your bed and takes your hand.

“Are you feeling better?” she asks, resting her chin on the bed.

“Yes,” you say, watching as Alexandria takes the small cup from your hand and places it on the small table. You take her wrist and gently pull her toward you. She climbs into the bed and lies facing you. “Does this make you think differently of me?”

She shakes her head. “It reminds me of what a strong woman you are.” She places her hand over your stomach. “He’s yours. How could I not love a life you carry?”

Your eyes sting as tears form. You let out a small laugh as you rub them. “I hope I won’t be crying each day until the child’s born.”

“You can feel however you feel without judgment from me,” Alexandria says. “Forwin has been kind to us. A child of his and yours is sure to be strongest when it comes to his heart.” She places a kiss to your forehead and holds you close. With Alexandria’s words of comfort, you fall into a restful sleep.

On the nights Forwin invites you to his chambers, he gently presses his hand to your stomach and prays for a son. Many men hope for a son, but you know he wishes for one to relieve you from the burden of having an heir. Your father was unwilling to have another child when your mother almost died birthing you, and the public’s shaming wore heavily on him; he never regretted it though, and he always makes sure to tell you with each parting how much he loves you.

The nights you spend with Alexandria, she also feels your stomach. She looks at you with awe when you take her hand and press it to where the baby is kicking.

One night, when the child is especially active, Alexandria rubs your back as you sit up in bed, hoping the pressure on your back eventually passes and he’ll shift his position.

“He seems to be training for battle,” Alexandria jokes, and you manage to laugh through your discomfort.

“You’ll have to train him,” you say, holding your now large stomach.

“I am sure Forwin will find him a skilled swordsman,” she says, applying some pressure so the baby moves ever so slightly. “I would prefer caring for the child in gentler ways.”

“What ways do you speak of?” You let out a long sigh when you feel the baby’s head shift away from your back so you can lie down.

Alexandria curls up beside you, taking your hand and entwining your fingers. “Bedtime stories,” she says with a grin. “Lullabies.”

“You sing?”  

“Not well,” she says, blushing slightly.

“Sing a song. A lullaby.”

Alexandria doesn’t argue. She just sighs and kisses your cheek. Then, gently rubbing your stomach, she begins to sing a lullaby you’ve never heard before. The accent with which she sings tells you it must be from her homeland. Her voice is quiet, but it never wavers. It reminds you of the wind as you rode on your horse together, the calm carried in the melody.

“You are a lovely singer,” you say when she finishes.

“I can only hope he thinks the same.”

“He will,” you say, resting your hand atop hers. “I think he’s asleep now.”

“We should sleep as well.”

You hum in agreement. Alexandria puts out the candles before settling back into bed. Wrapped in her arms, her lullaby continues to play in your mind as you fall asleep.

You wanted to speak with Forwin about traveling to the town markets in the morning, so you are almost at the door of a council room where you know he was meeting with his father when you hear raised voices.

“How can you be sure?” you hear King Geoffrey ask.

“There is no other man in her life, father. She is my wife. She is the mother of my child. Our child, rather.”

“She does not act as a wife.”

“You are in her family’s castle. Do not speak disrespectfully of her,” Forwin demands.

“Then what is this I hear of the company she keeps at night?”

“Who speaks of this? Servants?”

“Yes, because it seems as if it may be one of their own.”

Without much thought, you burst through the door. “You will cease this conversation right now.”

“It concerns the legitimacy of the heir to the throne,” Geoffrey says, standing tall and looking at you with disgust.

“Forwin is the father, and that is all you need to know.”

“So Forwin need not worry about your preference of keeping vermin in your bed?” he spits.

You feel your blood boil, and you’re sure if you were closer you would strike him.

“You will not speak to my wife that way!” Forwin shouts in a loud voice, one filled with anger. You’ve never heard him speak with anything but patience and kindness.

The shouting must have traveled down the halls because Agnes and Alexandria appear in the doorway.

“I apologize for disturbing your rest,” Forwin says in a gentle tone to them. “Please return to your chambers. We were just ending this conversation.”

They both nod, but Alexandria looks at you with concern. Before they can leave, Geoffrey interrupts. “No, let them stay.”

You turn to him with a cold glare.

“Dear Agnes,” Geoffrey says in a grossly sweet voice, “you have served as a maid for Princess Constantine all her life, yes?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” she replies quietly.

“Would you say the princess has been honest her whole life?”

Agnes bites her lip under the king’s scrutiny. “Yes. Other than small lies as a child, she has always been honest.”

“Honest… and pure?”

You see Alexandria clench her fists as she stands beside Agnes.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Agnes replies.

“Then what is this I hear of Constantine keeping company in her chambers at night?”

“I am not aware of—”

“Your name came up, Agnes. You spoke to my son about it even,” Geoffrey says, approaching the maids. He turns his gaze upon Alexandria, who stands with a stolid expression and clenched jaw. “And you? You see Constantine to sleep, yes?”

“Yes,” Alexandria says, almost a growl. “Those rumors are unfounded.”

“It must be one of their own,” Geoffrey says, chuckling as if this were all for his amusement. “Why else would they play dumb?” He turns back to Alexandria with a smirk. “I didn’t buy her for her intelligence though, so that should have been expected.”

“You will stop this at once,” you demand in a harsh voice. “King or not, you are in my home. You are speaking to my maids. I will not have you hurling insults at me, my husband, Agnes, or Alexandria.” Geoffrey seems unfazed, but you step up to him. Even though you’re a few inches shorter, you refuse to let him tower over you. “I’ll arrange to have you leave in the morning.”

“You are quite a hostess, Princess,” he replies with a sneer.

“I can arrange you leave now, if you wish to avoid the vermin we keep,” you hiss.

“I’ll tell my wife, and we’ll have our things packed by morning.”

“The Queen is actually needed tomorrow to meet with my father about the coming ball, so you’ll be traveling with your servants,” you say. “She is a courteous guest, and we find her knowledge in planning such events to be very important.”

Geoffrey merely scoffs before all but storming out of the room. After watching him exit the room, you turn to Forwin.

“I would apologize if I actually felt I made a mistake,” you say, trying to read Forwin’s expression. “I only regret making you uncomfortable for such words exchanged with your father.”

He shakes his head and chuckles. “You are a fierce princess, and I admire your adamant defense of your values. You rule with a head and a heart, and I am very proud to have such a wife.”

You feel your heart clench at his last word, but you smile and nod.

“Dear Agnes, you are dismissed.”

She nods, but her expression is somber. “I will accompany you to your chambers,” you say in a kind tone. “Alexandria, would you ready me a bath? I feel I need one after such a night.”

“Yes, Princess,” she replies quietly.

“Goodnight, Forwin,” you say, walking over and kissing him on the cheek. “I am proud to have married such a caring man.”

“Goodnight, Constantine,” he replies with his half-grin.

You walk quietly alongside Agnes for a moment before you finally begin the conversation that’s been looming. “You must know, dear Agnes. I am sorry if it is burdensome.”

She looks straight ahead and opens her mouth as if to reply, but then stops to think for a moment.

You stop walking and take her hand to have her face you. “Are you angry with me? Do you find me foolish?” you ask, genuinely curious as to her thoughts of the whole thing.

“Love is foolish in any way,” she says with a sad smile. “I care so very much for you, darling. I wish you could have that love with Prince Forwin, but you cannot force love.”

“It is not forced with Alexandria,” you confess. “She’s special. She’s brave and strong, but so very gentle with me. She makes me stop to take in beautiful moments I would have otherwise missed. She adds color to my life, and so many things were so grey and dreary before I met her. It feels something like a miracle to know she loves me back.”

“I believe you,” Agnes says, taking both of your hands in hers. “I will do all I can to ensure your love is safe. The greatest gift, ever since you were a child, is your happiness.”

At her words, you throw your arms around her. “You are a wonderful woman, dear Agnes.”

“As are you, Princess.”

After leaving Agnes to ready for bed, you make your way to the baths. When you enter, there are candles around the bath and moonlight coming in from the window. It’s peaceful, smelling of fresh perfume and oils.

“Are you okay?” Alexandria asks, appearing with clothes to dress you.

“Yes,” you say, walking up to her and taking the clothing from her hands and placing them on a nearby chair. “Are you?”

She nods.

You start to unlace her dress, and she looks at you with an inquisitive expression. “We both need a bath,” you reply with a grin. You almost laugh when you watch her swallow at your words, and you’ll always enjoy the moments when you get one of her modest reactions. Her dress pools at her feet, and you stare openly at her in the moonlight. She captures your lips in a deep kiss, and you feel her begin to untie your own dress before it joins hers on the floor. Agnes would have a fit seeing your clothing on the ground, but your entire focus is on the feeling of Alexandria’s skin against yours, her tongue gliding across your bottom lip.

You both step into the bath, and Alexandria lets you lean back against her front so she can rub your shoulders. You sigh as you feel the tension slowly leaving your body. You laugh when you feel the baby move.

“What is it?” Alexandria asks, pausing her massage.

“The little one is moving about,” you say, taking one of her hands and placing it on your stomach. He seems to find a comfortable position and stills. You sigh and lean into Alexandria’s embrace. “I dreamt he had your eyes,” you say with a little laugh. “Which is impossible, but I wish it could happen. I wish he could be yours too.”

She chuckles lightly, and you feel her breath on the back of your neck. “I’ll love him dearly, and that will be enough for him to know he’s mine in a different way.”

You eventually get out when the water begins to cool, and you both laugh as you dress for bed. Forwin visits to ensure you and Alexandria are feeling okay after the earlier argument. He bids you a good night after you both assure him you’re calm. And you are, falling asleep with your ear pressed to Alexandria’s heartbeat.

Prince Amfrid is born with almost a full head of brown hair, a bit small in size, but healthy. Forwin stood to one side of your bed, Alexandria to your other. When Amfrid is placed in your arms, you can hardly make out his face as your cry. You kiss his forehead and wipe your tears, wondering how this little infant would one day become a man, how he was once part of you and is now his own being. You smile because you wonder if he’ll have your eyes, perhaps Forwin’s smile, and you laugh lightly at the idea of him stomping his foot like you did when you would throw small tantrums as a toddler.

You let Forwin hold him, and he whispers softly to the baby. Alexandria adds a couple pillows behind you so you can lean back but remain upright. When you do, she uses a fresh cloth to cool your warm face.

“Thank you,” you say, taking her hand and smiling.

She leans down and presses her lips to your forehead, paying no mind to a few other servants moving about the room. Some servants still see such interactions and stare for a moment too long in curiosity, but the topic of your relationship with Alexandria never reaches above a dull murmur from the servants’ quarters.

You hear Amfrid cooing and see him moving his head about as Forwin walks him around the room. When he rounds your bed, he quietly gets Alexandria’s attention.

“You have raised him as much as I in the past months,” Forwin says with a kind smile, “so it seems right you hold him.”

Alexandria nods, and you watch her swallow nervously before Forwin places him in her arms. If she were at all hesitant, it doesn’t show. It seems natural, and Amfrid fits so perfectly in her arms.

“Hello, little prince,” she whispers with a small grin.

Amfrid coos in response, and Forwin chuckles. “He probably recognizes your voice, which is much more pleasant than mine, I’m sure.” You place your hand on his as he sits to your side. “What a beautiful child we have,” he says, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “I’m glad you are both healthy.”

“Me too,” you say as the fatigue sinks in and your eyes begin to droop.

You both quiet when you hear Alexandria start to sing the lullaby, and the sound of her voice lulls you and Amfrid to sleep.

You and Forwin return to the castle at dusk after a long day of meetings with councils and advisors. You manage to gracefully hop off of your horse and walk her to the stable boys. Your riding has only improved over the years, and it has proven quite useful for your travels.

You round the gardens, the clack of wood against wood echoing off the walls of the castle. A little voice cheers, and you smile at the sound of his little claps and giggles. When you reach the courtyard, you find Alexandria teaching Asher more sword work while Agnes holds Amfrid in her lap to the side.

Alexandria sees you and smiles, but in the time lets her guard down long enough for Asher to strike her. Alexandria stumbles back, a bit surprised, but recovers well and praises Asher. When he follows her gaze, he quickly bows his head and greets you with a, “Princess Constantine.”

“Good evening, Asher.”

“Mama!” Amfrid yells, running as fast as his little legs can carry him to you.

You bend down and pick him up into your arms. “Hello, my darling,” you say as he brings his little hands up to your cheeks. “Have you behaved?” He nods excitedly, and when you look to Agnes, she nods in confirmation. “Perhaps Grandpapa will have a treat for you then.”

Once Alexandria has the wooden swords packed away, she ruffles Asher’s hair, even though he’s getting older, he grins. He admires her just as much as he did four years ago, and now that he’s fourteen, he’s truly growing into a man. Asher bids you a goodnight before leaving for home for the night. Alexandria finally makes her way over as Amfrid is in the middle of telling you about his day. She rubs his back and gives his cheek a kiss, making him giggle.

You turn your head to her and welcome the familiar feeling of her lips against yours. “Welcome back, Princess,” she says quietly. “Did you fare well in all your meetings?”

“Yes, but I’m glad to be home.”

“I’m glad you’re home too, Mama!” Amfrid exclaims, throwing his arms up.

“The two of us are. I’m afraid it’s time for you to sleep, little one.”

Amfrid immediately pouts. “Mama, can you and Awexandia put me to bed?” He is still working on pronouncing some names correctly.

“Why not Papa?”

“I want Awexandia to sing, and Papa isn’t a good singer,” he says with a furrowed brow.

You laugh. “This is true. Papa has to work with Grandpapa tonight anyway,” you say as the three of you make your way back into the castle.

You and Alexandria bring him to his chambers, smaller than yours but cozy and without ridiculous embellishments like Geoffrey wished to bestow on him. Forwin stops in to wish him a goodnight and kiss his forehead and give him his goodnight “bear hug,” where he picks up Amfrid and hugs him tight with a growl. Forwin wishes you and Alexandria a goodnight before making his way to the library where he is to meet with your father to discuss politics and smoke their pipes.

You laugh as Alexandria hoists Amfrid onto his bed as she usually does. “Why, Prince Amfrid! You’re growing like a beanstalk!” she says in a shocked voice, a tradition whenever she dresses him for bed. He giggles, and your heart swells at the sight of him lightly bouncing about as Alexandria gathers his nightclothes. He raises his arms up straight, and she pulls his shirt off and then dresses him in one of Forwin’s old shirts Amfrid likes to wear as a nightgown. Amfrid always like to run his hands through your or Alexandria’s hair as he falls asleep, but since you’re trying to have him sleep in his own bed at night, Agnes has stitched the green silk ribbon into his blanket, which he rubs between his fingers until he falls asleep.

You and Alexandria tuck him in, and he’s already yawning when Alexandria begins to sing his favorite lullaby. You rest your head on her shoulder as she sings, and soon enough, Amfrid is asleep with a little smile on his face.

You take Alexandria’s hand as you walk back to your chambers.

“How was your day?” you ask as you close the door.

“As good as a day can be without you,” she replies, smiling as she begins to untie your dress.

When she moves to retrieve your nightgown, you gently take her wrist and shake your head. You let out a small laugh when she flushes. You are both still young, and your love holds a kind of innocence and excitement. You slowly start to undress her, and you let your lips graze the exposed skin.

You fall into bed, and you capture her lips, suddenly craving her as the time without her catches up. You’ve spoken so many words, delegating tasks and discussing strategies with your father and Forwin. Now you don’t need as many. You just need to whisper “I love you” and “Alexandria” into the night, and your bodies speak of yearning, of desire, of wholeness when pressed together.

You refuse to let Alexandria touch you first. You watch her come undone beneath you several times, making sure she knows just how much you miss her when you’re away, before you let her pleasure you. You both are falling asleep in one another’s arms when the chamber door opens. You throw on a nearby nightgown when you hear Amfrid call for you. Alexandria dresses quickly as well, rubbing her eyes as she sits on the edge of the bed.

You walk over and pick him up, carrying him to the bed, too tired to walk him back to his chambers and convince him to sleep by himself. Alexandria lies back into the bed, and Amfrid immediately snuggles into her.

“I had a nightmare,” he mumbles into her shoulder.

“Nightmares aren’t real, darling,” Alexandria says gently as he begins to play with a strand of her hair. “But we’ll keep them away for tonight.”

You climb back into bed and curl up beside him. Alexandria’s hand finds yours in the dark, and soon you hear their quiet, steady breathing as they fall back to sleep. You close your eyes and let yourself fall asleep, knowing in this moment you have so much love so near—that love like this lasts so much longer than mortality.