prydainroyals
Stories from the United Kingdoms of Prydain and Voltadelmar
SIDEBLOG of anachrosims. No follow-backs. This blog will contain mature and adult themes.
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The Royal siblings at the Queens Golden Jubilee in 20XX
The Princess Royal, The Queen and The Duke of Richmond
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Europeansim Council Summit: Francesim, Iona and Pierreland play spoilsport
The 8 heads of state of Europesim met for a summit of the Europeansim Council, one of the major institutions of the Europeansim Union. The role of the Europeansim Council is to decide on the next directions of the E.U. in the coming months, and it is currently presided over by the Empire of Francesim for 6 months.
Official photograph of the Europeansim Council summit.
H.I.M Emperor Napoléon V of the French, who presided over the meeting, wanted to impose stricter police measures throughout the EU.
The topics discussed at the diamond table focused mainly on the security of member states. As a reminder, Francesim and Iona have been the victims of attacks on their sovereigns, Emperor Napoléon IV and Queen Viviana I, in recent months. These terrorist acts raise many questions about policing and surveillance measures in the Europeansim Union. A few years ago, Pierreland also had to deal with a regicide.
H.I.M Emperor David of Pierreland brought his country's experience of crisis management to the diamond table.
While the national security vote is being prepared everywhere in the Europeansim institutions, uncertainty remains as to the severity of the legislation. This law is likely to have a major geopolitical impact on all Europeansim countries, allowing them to strengthen or not their surveillance measures, and leading to a clear reduction in individual freedoms.
Pierreland's proposals did not meet with unanimous approval, particularly from the heads of state in Iona and Greecesim.
Some countries, such as Greecesim, condemned these exchanges as a "terrible mistake". Queen Viviana II called for calm, proposing "reinforced surveillance" rather than fully aligning herself with the vigorous police measures proposed by the French Presidency.
From this meeting, we can only conclude that the Europeansim Council Summit will require further sessions to achieve fruitful debates. A rift between the Europesim countries is more than tangible, and is worrying the people of the E.U.
Collaboration with @funkyllama and @officalroyalsofpierreland
⚜ Traduction française
Sommet du Conseil européen : Francesim, Pierreland et Iona jouent les troubles-fêtes
Les 8 chefs d'états d'Europesim se sont réunis pour un sommet du Conseil Européen, l'une des grandes institutions de l'Union Européenne. Le Conseil Européen a pour rôle de décider des prochaines directions que prendront l'U.E les prochains mois, et est actuellement présidé par l'Empire de Francesim pour 6 mois.
Photographie officielle du sommet du Conseil Européen.
L'Empereur Napoléon V, président de la séance, a souhaité imposer des mesures policières renforcées dans toute l'U.E.
Les sujets engagés à la table losange se sont principalement concentrés sur le thème de la sécurité des états-membres. Pour rappel, la Francesim et l'Iona ont été victimes ces derniers mois d'attentats sur leur souverain, l'Empereur Napoléon IV et la reine Viviana I. Ces actes terroristes soulèvent beaucoup de questions quant aux mesures de police et de surveillance dans l'Union Européenne. On se souvient, quelques années plus tôt, que Pierreland avait également dû faire face à un régicide.
L'Empereur David de Pierreland a apporté à la table losange l'expérience de son pays en matière de gestion de crises.
Alors que le vote de sécurité nationale se prépare un peu partout dans les institutions européennes, l'incertitude demeure quant à la sévérité des textes de lois. Cette loi devrait avoir un impact géopolitique majeur sur l'ensemble des pays d'Europesim, leur permettant ou non de durcir leurs mesures de surveillance et entraînant une diminution des libertés individuelles.
Les propositions de Pierreland n'ont pas fait l'unanimité, notamment auprès des chefs d'états d'Iona et de la Grèce.
Certains pays comme la Grèce fustigent ces échanges parlant d'une "terrible erreur". La reine Viviana II appelle au calme en proposant une "surveillance renforcée" plutôt que de s'aligner totalement sur les mesures policières vigoureuses proposées par la présidence française.
De cette réunion, on peut seulement conclure que le Sommet du Conseil Européen nécessitera de nouvelles sessions pour parvenir à des débats fructueux. Une fracture entre les pays d'Europesim est plus que tangible et inquiète les habitants de l'U.E.
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Dear Alice: Part 1 of (?)
---
"Alice,
I'm sorry for not contacting you sooner. I know it's been ages. You really don't need to worry about me though, I promise. There are certain things I just can't talk about, this being a military base, I'm sure you know what I mean. But I'll try to tell you what I can, OK?
It's beautiful here. Beyond the treeline and past most of the tundra, it's absolutely desolate, but breathtaking. I don't know how else to describe the magic of a white, sparkling void. It all feels so alien and yet, so familiar, especially knowing that this our planet!! Like, we're not in some sci-fi drama, this is home.
And what a home it is! Cabot Sound's little "slice of paradise" as the Captain calls it, is here explicitly for research, obviously. We're at the edge of a glacier that's been receding considerably over the last five decades.
Research has been going as well as anyone could hope. The water, soil, mineral and ice core samples have already told us so much and we've barely scratched the surface.
It isn't all poetic imagery and frolicking. Work can be extremely dangerous, and it's always demanding. There's nothing like trekking through a popup blizzard in -40 at the glacier foothills to make you feel wholly insignificant. I'd still rather do that again than imagine what Dad's going to be like when I come home.
But speaking of people I hate: Let's talk about a special group of people I actually don't.
—
An interlude of sorts, ripped from inspired by one of my favorite shows growing up, M*A*S*H. I think it's a fun framing device that can give insight into both the narrator (in this case, Arthur) but also into the other characters, even in cases where Arthur isn't present.
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Fancy a brief tour of Wellingham State Palace in Lundenborough, Prydain?
Click the images for their descriptions. x
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Episode III
Coup de Majesté
A coup de Majesté is a brutal act or order dictated by the monarch, notably to forcibly subdue the beginnings of opposition, or even rebellion or revolt against him, and thus re-establish his authority or power.
Napoléon V
Age 19.
Born Louis Napoléon Simparte. Son of the late Emperor Napoléon IV and Madame Mère, Marie-Joséphine.
Sa Majesté Impériale, l’Empereur Napoléon V des Français
His Imperial Majesty, Emperor Napoléon V of the French.
Head of the Imperial Household.
Louis is an impulsive, energetic and outgoing young man who suddenly inherits the throne following the death of his father in an assassination attempt. He is currently preparing his coronation, while the nation is divided over the monarchy.
His youth and confidence in his abilities can be both his strength and his weakness.
⚜ Family tree of Simparte dynasty
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The Way We Were, The Final Few Begins April 1.
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Officers. Best friends. Shit-stirrers. A Short King and a Prince.
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---
He followed orders, but he can't sleep.
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Media In Reaction to, and Produced by, the Announcement of the Engagement of Queen Viviana of the Ionian Union and Imperial Prince Philippe of Francesim.
@empiredesimparte @officalroyalsofpierreland @nexility-sims @warwickroyals @armoricaroyalty @trentonsimblr @housekonig @the-lancasters for mention.
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((Continued from here.))
--
EVERYONE (BUT THE CAPTAIN): [LAUGHING]
FRANKIE: [NOW BORED, LEAVES ANYWAY]
FRANCIS, TRYING TO HIDE HIS AMUSEMENT: Alright, alright, we've had our fun.
FRANCIS: Now then! Listen up--
FRANCIS: --The holidays are behind us, but that doesn't mean we can afford to let ourselves relax.
FRANCIS: Rising temperature averages have made the winters here harsher, in some ways--unpredictable.
FRANCIS: This is why the Powers-That-Be have elected to withdraw most of our personnel from outposts as remote as our little slice of paradise, save for a select few, where necessary.
FRANCIS: As you're all already aware, this team of just a dozen will maintain the Cabot Sound outpost until summer. Commander Murray, I give the floor to you to explain our plan of attack to help us avoid preventable, horrific tragedy.
JAMES: Thank you, Captain. A very cheerful, yet sobering reminder of the devouring, unfeeling void that awaits us all.
FRANCIS: I'm always happy to motivate.
JAMES: As the Captain said, we all need to be extremely diligent. That means no skipping meals, no skipping sleep, and attendance at daily meetings is required.
JAMES: The rota for duties will be updated and posted here every week at 18:00 sharp every Sunday. If you have any questions or complaints, bring them first to your immediate superior or to myself or the Captain.
JAMES: Morale is also paramount, as is health. Physicals will be conducted every fortnight and they are mandatory. Any small injury or condition could become something deadly, and anything you hide from us might come back to hurt yourself and others later.
JAMES: That should be all. Did I leave anything out, Captain? We already spoke to the other shift--
FRANCIS: No, Commander, you've covered the whole of it.
JAMES: Any parting words, Sir?
FRANCIS: Indeed, James--
FRANCIS: To all of you: May we all have a smooth winter and a bright spring ahead of us. ... Don't fuck this up. You're all dismissed.
FRANCIS: And-- Lieutenant Kirkland?
ARTHUR: Yes, Captain?
FRANCIS: I know you've already pulled an extra shift. I can't have our Engineer swaying on his feet.
ARTHUR: But, Sir--
FRANCIS: You look like shit. Go to bed--that's an order.
ARTHUR: Yes, Sir.
---
Not changing format or anything, but for dialogue-heavy scenes, this is just way easier.
Time to get to know our characters a little bit more, yeah? Yeah!!!
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[THE FOLLOWING MORNING...]
The weekly team meeting began after the crew had their breakfast.
It was a small meeting and the base was relatively quiet-- non-essential research teams were either well on their way home the prior month, weeks before Longest Night and the New Year, or back at the main, larger research base--or one of the Prydainian Navy's research ships--rather than spend the rest of winter in this particular outpost.
Despite the serious nature of a skeleton-crew meeting, the Captain's introductory remarks had been rudely interrupted...
-----
FRANCIS: --One of you: Take Frankie back to his spot downstairs so we can resume this meeting.
JAMES: Sorry, Captain. None of us has the heart.
ARTHUR: I dunno Sirs, I think Frankie has something to say.
FRANCIS: Does he, now? Let's hear him then.
EVERYONE: [EXPECTANT SILENCE]
FRANKIE: ... Meow.
THOMAS: See, Captain? This cat here is a valuable contributor to our team.
FRANCIS: Why don't you train him to be your replacement, then, Thomas? Seeing as you're willing to vouch for him.
THOMAS: A fine idea, Captain. I'll ask him.
THOMAS, LEANING IN: Frankie, would you like to have my job?
FRANKIE: Meow!
THOMAS, LOOKING TO FRANCIS: Sorry, Captain. He says 'no.'
---
If you think I'm going to write a dialogue-heavy meeting scene in prose, you're outta your damn mind. <3
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[MEANWHILE...]
[PRYDAINIAN ROYAL NAVAL RESEARCH BASE, CABOT SOUND, ARCTIC CIRCLE]
LATE JANUARY, 202[X]--
Arthur had lost track of time.
One of his more difficult habits was his ability to hyperfocus on one thing to the exclusion of all others. This had led to an overreliance on caffeinated beverages and a color-coded system of physical and digital reminders to get through his school years and now, through adult life. This ability was excellent when he could harnass it to accomplish things that most of society might argue were "productive," but the problem was that he could not always harness it; and the hyperfocus could come and go in any direction like the wind.
This instance he'd been lucky, and had caught up on a number of reports--but the hour was getting late, so he slipped from the laboratory shed back into the research barracks with every intention of getting a bite to eat before heading to bed.
It was then that he stumbled across Captain James Walker Murray, the base's second-in-command, hovering by a heater, apparently lost in thought. Although he'd wanted to speak to Murray, Arthur thought better of it. it was late, so... not wanting to interrupt the man, Arthur turned to take his leave in silence, when suddenly--
"Lieutenant!" Murray cheerfully exclaimed, waving Arthur over to him. Arthur froze as if he'd been caught sneaking about by one of his parents. Snow was already melting off his shoulders and hair and he suppressed a shiver, wanting to shake away the residual biting cold from the Arctic winter outside.
"U-uh, Sir-"
"I was thinking you'd already bunked down for the evening. What's kept you up at this hour?" Murray waved Arthur over once more as he settled down comfortably onto one of the couches.
Arthur shuffled over to the Captain and sat next to him, silently appreciating the warmth of the communal area's heating and, in particular, that of the heater nearby.
"Everything alright?" Murray inquired curiously, now seemingly aware that there indeed was something on Arthur's mind; though he was not at all surprised, apparently.
"I'm... uh... I dunno if it's... really anything, Sir, I'm fine--"
Murray smiled warmly, encouragingly, at Arthur. There was a sense of.. was that... nostalgia? It was nostalgia and sympathy in the Captain's eyes.
"Take a breath, Arthur. I mean it," he advised. "It's too late to be worried about propriety, and too deep into winter not to be sharing what's eating you."
Arthur... really could not say "no" to such a friendly and encouraging offer.
"Of course, Sir. It's just... I've had a lot on my mind lately. I mean, about... everything! My future, as King, and... that sort of thing," Arthur admitted rather uncomfortably. Discussing uncertainty was one thing, was bad enough, but discussing uncertainty about his own role as the monarch? He had always been taught that this was out of the question.
But... things like that... seemed to matter less, there in the middle of Frozen Fuck-All Nowhere.
"Like... what if I cock it up? Let the entire United Kingdom and all our allies down because I say the wrong thing at the wrong time? What if I can't do anything good, and I'm just--a laughingstock? What if nothing I do matters? I--" he huffed. "It's stupid, it's all silly," he hurriedly added.
"'Ooh, he's worried about being the King! Poor diddums in his posh palace with all his servants and money!' Yeah, I get it. First world problems, I know."
"So what you're telling me is," Murray pondered, gesturing at the air, "that you aren't allowed to have any doubts, that you must clearly be absolutely perfect because you're the Crown Prince? Bit arrogant, if you ask me."
Arthur had grown accustomed to Murray's relatively easygoing personality over the last eight months, but that had caught him off guard. He peered at the Captain to gauge just how sarcastic the man was being, but that only confused things further.
He appeared to be completely serious, and Arthur began to immediately regret his decision to join the Captain for a late night chat.
Fortunately for him, Murray elected to elaborate without prompting.
"If I ever learned anything from Catholic school that had a positive outcome on my life," he explained, "it would be that each of us has our cross to bear. Metaphorically speaking," he clarified.
"You, your father, your sister, you're all as-- as fallible and human as the rest of us commonfolk," Murray went on. "Not a one of us, in any circumstance, is absolved of... trying to work out how to... be a human being."
"You landed a better hand in this cosmic poker game than most of the planet, what of it?" Murray shrugged. "Going and... and denying your humanity by acting like you aren't allowed to have your own thoughts and feelings, just because of your status--one you did not choose, mind you--you're still separating yourself away from the rest of us."
Arthur listened to the Captain speak, and he felt his cheeks flush red with embarrassment. But he did not interrupt the man, and listened on.
"Don't go so far up your own arse that you forget your fears are as real to you as anyone else's," Murray said, knowingly nodding.
"Kings, Captains, cadets, commonfolk--we're all afraid of letting people down, being alone, and so forth. You are allowed to be human, lad."
Arthur was abruptly left in relative silence to ponder this advice, and he glanced down at his (now somewhat soggy) boots.
The seconds ticked on and with each passing moment, he had less and less heart to look over at the Captain again.
In reality, scarcely a few seconds had actually passed, and Captain Murray seemed to be content with the brief stew in which he'd just left Arthur.
"... Though when you're King, promise me you'll tell my father that we're all allowed to be human and imperfect."
Arthur glanced up at Murray, whose smile was back, albeit a bit wry now. "Your father, Sir?"
"My old man, yes," Murray snorted. "You set fire to your Gran's apron once on Christmas Eve and you never hear the end of it--!"
---
I had to break the tension somehow!
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"I take it your morning tea with my mother didn't go well."
"No," Alice confirmed.
George gave an involuntary shudder, then nodded to his daughter. His reaction was blunt, it was brutally honest and unhidden.
Gwyneth was... a problem. Had always been. George wondered if he had ever had a chance to be a well-adjusted person at all; or if being the heir to the throne and the son of a depressed King and a toxic rubbish pit of a mother meant there was never any hope.
He saw a tension in Alice release, seemingly melting away. Her shoulders dropped and she took a deep breath before letting it out; her expression dolorous.
"I know you've been drinking this morning, like you always do, but we have to talk--"
"--I haven't," George cut in wearily, but then added: "... I have," he admitted reluctantly. "I've... tried. I must admit, something... stopped me. I cannot bear to look at it." He gestured to the half-empty glass on his desk.
Alice huffed. "Dad--"
George rubbed at his temples. He could feel the ache of sobriety, the sickening pull of his body's dependency on liquor, all tugging at him like shackles of his own making. It was the truth that he couldn't bear to look at it, but the song of his alcoholism was a chorus of sirens all the same.
"You're right. We do need to talk, Princess."
If Gwyneth was one of the root causes of George's dysfunctional life, then surely his own choices were the sabotage of that wretched tree.
Perhaps he never would have turned out to be a good man. But in watching his daughter, with whom he had such a strong bond, he could not help but admire the strength and persistence of her spirit. And in truth, Arthur too, inspired him--more to jealousy, envy, rather than to happiness that a father should have had as he watched his son grow to surpass him.
"Come," George gestured to several chairs by the fireplace. "Let us sit and talk. You needn't fear any reprimand from me for being honest about what my mother has said to you."
* * *
George settled with Alice by the warm and crackling fire to talk-- about plans for the dinner for Arthur's return, about Gwyneth--
--that was the real icebreaker for them both.
The conversation moved to his drinking, what he planned to do to curb such a difficult and dangerous habit. It took a great deal of squeezing his fingers into his palms, of discomfort and awkward anxiety that made him sweat, a bit of stammering, but he... asked Alice... for advice.
They talked about Alfonso, about little Carmen too.
Christ...
How long had it been since he had been somewhat clear-headed enough to talk like this with his daughter?
... How long had it been since he had been able to talk like this with his remaining son?
... George couldn't remember.
He had no idea where things might go from here, outside their initial plans for Arthur's return--and his own, to speak with the royal physicians-- but faced with a measure of clarity he had scarcely felt in years, he was not about to just let that go.
"Dad," Alice said at last, ready to rise from her seat, eyes focused so keenly on her father, "I'd better get to planning this dinner. Will you be alright?"
George managed a small smile for Alice's concern.
"I can't promise that, Princess, only that I will try."
---
Progress??????? Let's see if he can stay relatively on track. Improvement and healing are not straight lines. Personal progress is not linear. But let us hope a real attempt is really made.
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Elsewhere in the palace, George tried, and failed, to indulge in his daily comfort.
". . ."
In his office, he stood alone, pouring his drink--
". . ."
--and drinking his drink--
But something was wrong; not with the liquor itself, nor with the King, but...
He felt some kind of shift. His daughter's words and even those of his son had been swimming through his mind as of late. Even the strong taste of liquor could no longer wash away and numb what he was feeling. It was a desperate and ugly sort of state of mind, but a sense of new, anxious urgency settled itself on his shoulders and remained perched there.
He had to lie down.
So, the King lay himself down on his settee to rest and ruminate, his drink unfinished.
Alice marched from breakfast tea with her battleaxe of a grandmother and made her way through the quiet palace--
--down halls and through meeting rooms--
--over corridors and past busy staff and stoic guards--
At last she reached the audience antechamber that sat as a buffer between her father's private office and the rest of the palace.
She entered, did not even bother to knock--
--Alice couldn't help but feel the sink of disappointment at the sight of her father. Drunk, she assumed, and it wasn't even 10:00!
"Father," she called, surprised at the tremble in her voice.
"Father," she echoed again, louder and firmer than before.
"Nhhh.." The King grumbled as he roused up from the chaise. His head swam at first, then found equilibrium, though the light pouring in from the windows seemed almost too much to bear.
He had only slept for about an hour, but his head felt clearer than before. That came as a surprise. Rest? In George's life?
How novel.
He raised his eyes, shielding them from the morning light. With his weariness, he thought he glimpsed--
--or perhaps dreamed...
. . .
George's voice was soft and small as he squinted against the spears of sunlight beaming through the office windows:
"Anne...?"
Alice stood, all the angry wind taken out of her sails at the utterance of her mother's name.
Hearing it felt like a punch to the gut.
"N-no, no Dad," she shook her head, swallowing thickly.
George rose to his feet to meet her halfway, to reach out to his daughter.
"Alice..."
"... Are you alright?"
"Dad... we need to talk."
---
That moment when you have a flash of clarity and realize how wretched you are. Whether by divine intervention, introspection, or some measure of both, you can no longer abide by settling for the hole you jumped into. You don't know if there is even a road to a better place, and whether you deserve to walk it isn't even something you dare to ask-- all you're certain of is, things cannot continue as they are. You cannot let them.
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<<Previous | Chapter Start | Beginning | Next>>
author's note: Transcript under the cut.
Nakawe Palace // Armorican State Visit - Day 2
FREDERICK | …it's a whole mess. Emily's heartbroken. I don’t know what to do.
ANDRE | Well...do you love her?
FREDERICK | Of course.
ANDRE | Then what’s holding you back?
FREDERICK | It's a huge decision, isn't it?
FREDERICK | Marriage is…well, it’s forever, at least according to the church. How am I supposed to know if I’m ready for that kind of commitment?
ANDRE | And you’re asking me for advice?
FREDERICK | Who am I supposed to ask? You’re the only dad I’ve got.
ANDRE | I'm not an expert. I've made a lot of mistakes.
FREDERICK | I know.
ANDRE | But…[sighs] You’re one of the lucky ones, you know?
ANDRE | Your sister is my heir, and her marriage is a matter of state. Whoever she marries will ascend to the throne alongside her. They'll be raising the next King or Queen together. And that’s a lot of pressure on a relationship, even one built on a solid foundation of mutual respect.
ANDRE | You’ve seen how that worked out for your mother and me.
ANDRE | But you…you don’t have that pressure. If you and your wife are blessed with children, they won’t be the heir and the spare, they’ll just be ordinary kids. You don’t even have to stay on as working royals. Unlike your sister, you could walk away, and no one would think any less of you for it.
ANDRE | You have a lot more freedom to decide who you’re going to spend the rest of your life with. You have a lot more freedom to decide what the rest of your life looks like. That's a blessing, Freddy.
FREDERICK | It doesn't feel like a blessing. It feels like I'm supposed to hurry up and settle down and I don't know if I want that right now.
ANDRE | Well…that’s the other side of the coin. No woman worth spending the rest of your life with is going to just sit around and wait for you to make up your mind. If you don't want to marry and she does, the relationship ends.
FREDERICK | [sighs] That doesn't make it any easier. I hate the idea of losing her.
ANDRE | It's not easy. But you know what? I’m proud of you.
FREDERICK | What?
ANDRE | I'm proud of you, Freddy.
FREDERICK | [offscreen] You've worked so hard and come so far. I could never have pulled off anything like this trip when I was 25.
FREDERICK | Thanks, Dad.
ANDRE | You’re a man now…you don’t need your old man anymore.
FREDERICK | [laughs] I don’t know about that. Like, I said: you’re the only Dad I’ve got.
FREDERICK | I’ll always need you, Dad.
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i think one of the reasons i get mildly annoyed about worldbuilding threads that are 200 tweets of why you should care about where blue dye comes from in your world before saying someone is wearing blue is that so few of them go up to the second level of "and that should impact your characters somehow" - i don't care that blue dye comes from pressing berries that only grow in one kingdom a thousand miles away if people are casually wearing blue
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