Have a seat in the foyer, take a number
i was lightning before the thunder
She used to be Silanos.
It was back in a time when the lands of winter and harsh realities were all she knew, even before she sealed herself away in the camp of Jarl. She hadn't yet earned her title, the name she would wear proudly and shed the one given by parents who were never truly, unconditionally in love with her. There had always been reservations about her not being a colt--for she, the only child to take the throne as heir, would have to fight her way up tooth and nail to gain something that was simply handed to the boys. She was a girl, in the end, and that would be her only downfall.
Did he remember how she stood upon the throne after those years locked in a warrior's life; when she broke all the laws of their Court to become their first female heir? She had bested Hiemsterra's brightest soldier, withstood where he had fallen. She rose to take the crown after being passed off as nothing more than a pretty filly, a proper princess to follow in her nonexistent brother's shadow. Except it would be the brother that fell into hers once she left the lands of Veteris behind.
She knew him, of course, when she was Silanos. She might have seen him in passing as she wandered the Winter Court halls as a yearling, studying the names of all those related to their royal linage. Yet they'd never had a proper conversation, never spoke words to each other at all. They led different lives in the court; she didn't know anything about who he was.
And now he was there, there in her Dusk Court of Novus. But she was Rannveig now, and years had gone long since they saw each other. She recognized him easily at their meeting, basked in the sound of his voice for the first time. And once it split away, each going their own direction, she stayed behind and watched them go. Her heart pounded against the thickness of her ribcage at the sight of him, one from her own family of the Winter Court. And though they only knew one another as shadowy figures, she craved their interaction.
Before he could turn himself away from her at the conclusion of their gathering, she said but one word, one name, hoping he would stay back with her. "Morozko."
It was back in a time when the lands of winter and harsh realities were all she knew, even before she sealed herself away in the camp of Jarl. She hadn't yet earned her title, the name she would wear proudly and shed the one given by parents who were never truly, unconditionally in love with her. There had always been reservations about her not being a colt--for she, the only child to take the throne as heir, would have to fight her way up tooth and nail to gain something that was simply handed to the boys. She was a girl, in the end, and that would be her only downfall.
Did he remember how she stood upon the throne after those years locked in a warrior's life; when she broke all the laws of their Court to become their first female heir? She had bested Hiemsterra's brightest soldier, withstood where he had fallen. She rose to take the crown after being passed off as nothing more than a pretty filly, a proper princess to follow in her nonexistent brother's shadow. Except it would be the brother that fell into hers once she left the lands of Veteris behind.
She knew him, of course, when she was Silanos. She might have seen him in passing as she wandered the Winter Court halls as a yearling, studying the names of all those related to their royal linage. Yet they'd never had a proper conversation, never spoke words to each other at all. They led different lives in the court; she didn't know anything about who he was.
And now he was there, there in her Dusk Court of Novus. But she was Rannveig now, and years had gone long since they saw each other. She recognized him easily at their meeting, basked in the sound of his voice for the first time. And once it split away, each going their own direction, she stayed behind and watched them go. Her heart pounded against the thickness of her ribcage at the sight of him, one from her own family of the Winter Court. And though they only knew one another as shadowy figures, she craved their interaction.
Before he could turn himself away from her at the conclusion of their gathering, she said but one word, one name, hoping he would stay back with her. "Morozko."
!!! so excited
@morozko
