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blackswaneuroparedux · 3 years

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Anonymous asked: I have always appreciated your thoughtful views on the defence of the British monarchy, and as a university historian it’s reassuring to see someone using history to make invalubale insights to a controversial institution. I wonder what are your own thoughts on the passing of Prince Philip and what his legacy might be? Was he a gaffe prone racist and a liability to the Queen?

I know you kindly got in touch and identified yourself when you felt I was ignoring your question. I’m glad we cleared that up via DM. The truth is as I said and I’m saying here is that I had to let some time pass before I felt I could reasonably answer this question. Simply because - as you know as someone who teaches history at university - distance is good to make a sober appraisal rather than knee jerk in the moment judgements.

Contrary to what some might think I’m not really a fan girl when it comes to the royal family. I don’t religiously follow their every movement or utterance especially as I live in Paris and therefore I don’t really care about tabloid tittle tattle. I only get to hear of anything to do with the royal family when I speak to my parents or my great aunts and uncles for whom the subject is closer to their heart because of the services my family has rendered over past generations to the monarchy and the older (and dying) tight knit social circles they travel in.

Like Walter Bagehot, I’m more interested in the monarchy as an institution and its constitutional place within the historical, social, and political fabric of Britain and its continued delicate stabilising importance to that effect. It was Walter Bagehot, the great constitutional scholar and editor the Economist magazine, who said, “The mystic reverence, the religious allegiance, which are essential to a true monarchy, are imaginative sentiments that no legislature can manufacture in any people.” In his view, a politically-inactive monarchy served the best interests of the United Kingdom; by abstaining from direct rule, the monarch levitated above the political fray with dignity, and remained a respected personage to whom all subjects could look to as a guiding light.

Even as a staunch monarchist I freely confess that there has always been this odd nature of the relationship between hereditary monarchy and a society increasingly ambivalent about the institution. To paraphrase Bagehot again, there has been too much ‘daylight’ shone onto the ‘magic’ of the monarchy because we are obsessed with personalities as celebrities.

Having said that I did feel saddened by the passing of Prince Philip, the Duke of Edinburgh. After the Queen, he was my favourite royal. Anne, Princess Royal, would come next because she is very much like her father in temperament, humour, and character, so unlike her other brothers.

I have met the late Prince Philip when I was serving in the army in a few regimental meet-and-greet situations - which as you may know is pretty normal given that members of the royal family serve as honorary colonel-in-chiefs (patrons in effect) of all the British army regiments and corps.I also saw him at one or two social events such the annual charitable Royal Caledonian Ball (he’s an expert scottish reeler) and the Guards Polo Club where my older brothers played.

I’ll will freely confess that he was the one royal I could come close to identify with because his personal biography resonated with me a great deal.

Let’s be honest, the core Windsor family members, born to privilege, are conditioned and raised to be dull. Perhaps that’s a a tad harsh. I would prefer the term ‘anonymously self-effacing’, just another way of saying ‘for God’s sake don’t draw attention to yourself by saying or doing anything even mildly scandalous or political lest it invites public opprobrium and scrutiny’. The Queen magnificently succeeds in this but the others from Charles down just haven’t (with the exception of Princess Anne).

However, many people forget this obvious fact that it’s the incoming husbands and wives who marry into the Windsor family who are relied upon to bring colour and even liven things up a little. And long before Kate Middleton, Meghan Markle (very briefly), or Lady Diana Spencer, were the stars of ‘The Firm’- a phrase first coined by King George VI, Queen Elizabeth II's father who ruled from 1936 to 1952, who was thought to have wryly said, "British royals are 'not a family, we're a firm,” - it was Prince Philip who really livened things up and made the greater impact on the monarchy than any of them in the long term.

Prince Philip’s passing belied the truth of a far more complex individual: a destitute and penniless refugee Greek-Danish prince with a heart breaking backstory that could have been penned by any 19th Century novelist, and also eagle eyed reformer who tried to drag the royal family into the 20th century. At the core of the man - lost scion of a lost European royal dynasty, a courageous war veteran, and Queen’s consort - were values in which he attempted to transform and yet maintain much older inherited traditions and attitudes. Due to his great longevity, Philip’s life came to span a period of social change that is almost unprecedented, and almost no one in history viewed such a transformation from the front row.

Prince Philip would seem to represent in an acute form the best of the values of that era, which in many ways jar with today’s. He had fought with great courage in the war as a dashing young naval officer; he was regularly rude to foreigners, which was obviously a bonus to all Brits. He liked to ride and sail and shoot things. He was unsentimental almost to a comic degree, which felt reassuring at a time when a new-found emotional incontinence made many feel uncomfortable. Outrageous to some but endearing to others, he was the sort of man you’d want to go for a pint with, perhaps the ultimate compliment that an Englishman can pay to another Englishman. This has its own delicious irony as he wasn’t really an Englishman.

There are 4 takeways I would suggest in my appraisal of Prince Philip that stand out for me. So let me go through each one.

1. Prince Philip’s Internationalism

It may seem odd for me to say that Prince Philip wasn’t English but he wasn’t an Englishman in any real sense. He was a wretch of the world - stateless, homeless, and penniless. That the Prince of Nowhere became the British Monarchy’s figurehead was more than fitting for a great age of migration and transition in which the Royal Family survived and even flourished. That he was able to transform himself into the quintessential Englishman is testimony not just to his personal determination but also to the powerful cultural pull of Britishness.

He was born on a kitchen table in Corfu in June 1921. A year later in 1922, Philip, as the the great-great-grandson of Queen Victoria and nephew of Constantine I of Greece, was forced to flee with his family after the abdication of Constantine. He grew up outside Paris speaking French; ethnically he was mostly German although he considered himself Danish, his family originating from the Schleswig border region. He was in effect, despite his demeanour of Royal Navy officer briskness, a citizen of nowhere in an age of movement. From a very young age he was a stateless person, nationally homeless. Indeed, Philip was an outsider in a way that even Meghan Markle could never be; at his wedding in 1947, his three surviving sisters and two brothers-in-law were not permitted to attend because they were literally Britain’s enemies, having fought for the Germans. A third brother-in-law had even been in the SS, working directly for Himmler, but had been killed in the conflict.

Even his religion was slightly exotic. He was Greek Orthodox until he converted to Anglicanism on marrying Elizabeth - what with his wife due to become supreme head of the Church and everything - but his ties with eastern Christianity remained. His great-aunts Princess Elisabeth of Hesse and by Rhine and Tsarina Alexandra are both martyrs of the Russian Orthodox Church, having been murdered by the Bolsheviks; Philip’s mother went on to become an Orthodox nun and a “Righteous Among the Nations” for saving a Jewish family during the Nazi occupation of Greece, spending much of her time in squalid poverty.

His parents were part of the largely German extended aristocracy who ruled almost all of Europe before it all came crashing down in 1918. When he died, aged 99, it marked a near-century in which all the great ideological struggles had been and gone; he had been born before the Soviet Union but outlived the Cold War, the War on Terror and - almost - Covid-19.

The world that Philip was born into was a far more violent and dangerous place than ours. In the year he was born, Irish rebels were still fighting Black and Tans; over the course of 12 months the Spanish and Japanese prime ministers were assassinated, there was a coup in Portugal and race riots in the United States. Germany was rocked by violence from the far-Left and far-Right, while in Italy a brutal new political movement, the Fascists, secured 30 seats in parliament, led by a trashy journalist called Benito Mussolini.

The worst violence, however, took place in Greece and Turkey. Following the defeat of the Ottoman Empire, what remained of Turkey was marked for permanent enfeeblement by the Allies. But much to everyone’s surprise the country’s force were roused by the brilliant officer Mustafa Kemal, who led the Turks to victory. Constantinople was lost to Christendom for good and thousands of years of Hellenic culture was put to the flames in Smyrna.

The Greek royal family, north German imports shipped in during the 19th century, bore much of the popular anger for this disaster. King Constantine fled to Italy, and his brother Andrew was arrested and only escaped execution through the intervention of his relative Britain’s George V. Andrew’s wife Alice, their four daughters and infant son Philip fled to France, completely impoverished but with the one possession that ensures that aristocrats are never truly poor: connections.

Philip had a traumatic childhood. He was forged by the turmoil of his first decade and then moulded by his schooling. His early years were spent wandering, as his place of birth ejected him, his family disintegrated and he moved from country to country, none of them ever his own. When he was just a year old, he and his family were scooped up by a British destroyer from his home on the Greek island of Corfu after his father had been condemned to death. They were deposited in Italy. One of Philip's first international journeys was spent crawling around on the floor of the train from an Italian port city, "the grubby child on the desolate train pulling out of the Brindisi night," as his older sister Sophia later described it.

In Paris, he lived in a house borrowed from a relative; but it was not destined to become a home. In just one year, while he was at boarding school in Britain, the mental health of his mother, Princess Alice, deteriorated and she went into an asylum; his father, Prince Andrew, went off to Monte Carlo to live with his mistress. "I don't think anybody thinks I had a father," he once said. Andrew would die during the war. Philip went to Monte Carlo to pick up his father's possessions after the Germans had been driven from France; there was almost nothing left, just a couple of clothes brushes and some cuff-links.

Philip’s four sisters were all much older, and were soon all married to German aristocrats (the youngest would soon die in an aeroplane crash, along with her husband and children). His sisters became ever more embroiled in the German regime. In Scotland going to Gordonstoun boarding school, Philip went the opposite direction, becoming ever more British. Following the death of his sister Cecilie in a plane crash in 1937, the gulf widened. As the clouds of conflict gathered, the family simply disintegrated. With a flash of the flinty stoicism that many would later interpret, with no little justification, as self-reliance to the point of dispassion, the prince explained: “It’s simply what happened. The family broke up… I just had to get on with it. You do. One does.”

In the space of 10 years he had gone from a prince of Greece to a wandering, homeless, and virtually penniless boy with no-one to care for him. He got through it by making a joke of everything, and by being practical.

By the time he went to Gordonstoun, a private boarding school on the north coast of Scotland, Philip was tough, independent and able to fend for himself; he'd had to be. Gordonstoun would channel those traits into the school's distinct philosophy of community service, teamwork, responsibility and respect for the individual. And it sparked one of the great passions of Philip's life - his love of the sea. It was Gordonstoun that nurtured that love through the maturation of his character.

Philip adored the school as much as his son Charles would despise it. Not just because the stress it put on physical as well as mental excellence - he was a great sportsman. But because of its ethos, laid down by its founder Kurt Hahn, a Jewish exile from Nazi Germany.

Hahn first met Philip as a boy in Nazi Germany. Through a connection via one of his sister’s husbands, Philip, the poor, lonely boy was first sent off to a new school - in Nazi Germany. Which was as fun as can be imagined. Schloss Salem had been co-founded by stern educator called Kurt Hahn, a tough, discipline-obsessed conservative nationalist who saw civilisation in inexorable decline. But by this stage Hahn, persecuted for being Jewish in Nazi Germany, had fled to Britain, and Philip did not spend long at the school either, where pressure from the authorities was already making things difficult for the teachers. Philip laughed at the Nazis at first, because their salute was the same gesture the boys at his previous school had to make when they wanted to go to the toilet, but within a year he was back in England, a refugee once again.

Philip happily attended Hahn’s new school, Gordonstoun, which the strict disciplinarian had set up in the Scottish Highlands. Inspired by Ancient Sparta, the boys (and then later girls) had to run around barefoot and endure cold showers, even in winter, the whole aim of which was to drive away the inevitable civilisational decay Hahn saw all around him. To 21st century ears it sounds like hell on earth, yet Philip enjoyed it, illustrating just what a totally alien world he came from.

That ethos became a significant, perhaps the significant, part of the way that Philip believed life should be lived. It shines through the speeches he gave later in his life. "The essence of freedom," he would say in Ghana in 1958, "is discipline and self-control." The comforts of the post-war era, he told the British Schools Exploring Society a year earlier, may be important "but it is much more important that the human spirit should not be stifled by easy living". And two years before that, he spoke to the boys of Ipswich School of the moral as well as material imperatives of life, with the "importance of the individual" as the "guiding principle of our society".

It was at Gordonstoun one of the great contradictions of Philip's fascinating life was born. The importance of the individual was what in Kurt Hahn's eyes differentiated Britain and liberal democracies from the kind of totalitarian dictatorship that he had fled. Philip put that centrality of the individual, and individual agency - the ability we have as humans to make our own moral and ethical decisions - at the heart of his philosophy.

At Dartmouth Naval College in 1939, the two great passions of his life would collide. He had learned to sail at Gordonstoun; he would learn to lead at Dartmouth. And his driving desire to achieve, and to win, would shine through. Despite entering the college far later than most other cadets, he would graduate top of his class in 1940. In further training at Portsmouth, he gained the top grade in four out of five sections of the exam. He became one of the youngest first lieutenants in the Royal Navy.

The navy ran deep in his family. His maternal grandfather had been the First Sea Lord, the commander of the Royal Navy; his uncle, "Dickie" Mountbatten, had command of a destroyer while Philip was in training. In war, he showed not only bravery but guile. It was his natural milieu. "Prince Philip", wrote Gordonstoun headmaster Kurt Hahn admiringly, "will make his mark in any profession where he will have to prove himself in a trial of strength".

2. Prince Philip and the modernisation of the monarchy

In his own words, the process of defining what it meant to be a royal consort was one of “trial and error.” Speaking with BBC One’s Fiona Bruce in 2011, Philip explained, “There was no precedent. If I asked somebody, 'What do you expect me to do?' they all looked blank. They had no bloody idea, nobody had much idea.” So he forged for himself a role as a moderniser of the monarchy.

He could not have had much idea back in 1939. Back then in Dartmouth in 1939, as war became ever more certain, the navy was his destiny. He had fallen in love with the sea itself. "It is an extraordinary master or mistress," he would say later, "it has such extraordinary moods." But a rival to the sea would come.

When King George VI toured Dartmouth Naval College, accompanied by Philip's uncle, he brought with him his daughter, Princess Elizabeth. Philip was asked to look after her. He showed off to her, vaulting the nets of the tennis court in the grounds of the college. He was confident, outgoing, strikingly handsome, of royal blood if without a throne. She was beautiful, a little sheltered, a little serious, and very smitten by Philip.

Did he know then that this was a collision of two great passions? That he could not have the sea and the beautiful young woman? For a time after their wedding in 1948, he did have both. As young newlyweds in Malta, he had what he so prized - command of a ship - and they had two idyllic years together. But the illness and then early death of King George VI brought it all to an end.

He knew what it meant, the moment he was told. Up in a lodge in Kenya, touring Africa, with Princess Elizabeth in place of the King, Philip was told first of the monarch's death in February 1952. He looked, said his equerry Mike Parker, "as if a ton of bricks had fallen on him". For some time he sat, slumped in a chair, a newspaper covering his head and chest. His princess had become the Queen. His world had changed irrevocably.

While the late Princess Diana was later to famously claim that there were “three people” in her marriage - herself, Prince Charles and Camilla - there were at least 55 million in Philip and Elizabeth’s. As Elizabeth dedicated her life to her people at Westminster Abbey at the Coronation on June 2, 1953, it sparked something of an existential crisis in Philip. Many people even after his death have never really understood this pivotal moment in Philip’s life. All his dreams of being a naval officer and a life at sea as well as being the primary provider and partner in his marriage were now sacrificed on the altar of duty and love.

With his career was now over, and he was now destined to become the spare part. Philip, very reasonably, asked that his future children and indeed his family be known by his name, Mountbatten. In effect he was asking to change the royal family’s name from the House of Windsor to the House of Mountbatten. But when Prime Minister Winston Churchill got wind of it as well as the more politically agile courtiers behind the Queen, a prolonged battle of wits ensued, and it was one Philip ultimately lost. It was only in 1957 that he accepted the title of “Prince.”

Even though he had almost lost everything dear to him and his role now undefined, he didn’t throw himself a pity party. He just got on with it. Philip tried to forge his own distinct role as second fiddle to the woman who had come to represent Great Britain. He designated himself the First Officer of the Good Ship Windsor. He set about dusting off some of the cobwebs off the throne and letting some daylight unto the workings of the monarchy by advocating reasonable amount of modernisation of the monarchy.

He had ideas about modernising the royal family that might be called “improving optics” today. But in his heart of hearts he didn’t want the monarchy to become a stuffy museum piece. He envisaged a less stuffy and more popular monarchy, relevant to the lives of ordinary people. Progress was always going to be incremental as he had sturdy opposition from the old guard who wanted to keep everything as it was, but nevertheless his stubborn energy resulted in significant changes.

When a commission chaired by Prince Philip proposed broadcasting the 1953 investiture ceremony that formally named Elizabeth II as queen on live television, Prime Minister Winston Churchill reacted with outright horror, declaring, “It would be unfitting that the whole ceremony should be presented as if it were a theatrical performance.” Though the queen had initially voiced similar concerns, she eventually came around to the idea, allowing the broadcast of all but one segment of the coronation. Ultimately, according to the BBC, more than 20 million people tuned in to the televised ceremony - a credit to the foresight of Philip.

Elizabeth’s coronation marked a watershed moment for a monarchy that has, historically, been very hands off, old-fashioned and slightly invisible. Over the following years, the royals continued to embrace television as a way of connecting with the British people: In 1957, the queen delivered her annual Christmas address during a live broadcast. Again, this was Philip’s doing when he cajoled the Queen to televise her message live. He even helped her in how to use the teleprompter to get over her nerves and be herself on screen.

Four years later, in 1961, Philip became the first family member to sit for a television interview. It is hard for us to imagine now but back then it was huge. For many it was a significant step in modernising the monarchy.

Though not everything went to plan. Toward the end of the decade, the Windsors even invited cameras into their home. A 1969 BBC fly-on-the-wall documentary, instigated by Philip to show life behind the scenes, turned into an unmitigated disaster: “The Windsors” revealed the royals to be a fairly normal, if very rich, British upper-class family who liked barbecues, ice cream, watching television and bickering. The mystery of royalty took a hit below the waterline from their own torpedo, a self-inflicted wound from which they took a long time to recover. Shown once, the documentary was never aired again. But it had an irreversible effect, and not just by revealing the royals to be ordinary. By allowing the cameras in, Philip opened the lid to the prying eyes of the paparazzi who could legitimately argue that since the Royals themselves had sanctioned exposure, anything went. From then on, minor members of the House of Windsor were picked off by the press, like helpless tethered animals on a hunting safari.

Prince Philip also took steps to reorganise and renovate the royal estates in Sandringham and Balmoral such as intercoms, modern dish washers, generally sought to make the royal household and the monarchy less stuffy, not to have so much formality everywhere.

Philip helped modernised the monarchy in other ways to acknowledge that the monarchy could be responsive to changes in society. It was Prince Philip - much to the chagrin of the haughty Princess Margaret and other stuffy old courtiers - who persuaded the Queen to host informal lunches and garden parties designed to engage a broader swath of the British public. Conversely, Prince Philip heartily encouraged the Queen (she was all for it apparently but was still finding her feet as a new monarch) to end the traditional practice of presenting debutantes from aristocratic backgrounds at court in 1952. For Philip and others it felt antiquated and out of touch with society. I know in speaking to my grandmother and others in her generation the decision was received with disbelief at how this foreign penniless upstart could come and stomp on the dreams of mothers left to clutch their pearls at the prospect there would be no shop window for their daughter to attract a suitable gentleman for marriage. One of my great aunts was over the moon happy that she never would have to go through what she saw as a very silly ceremony because she preferred her muddy wellies to high heels.

A former senior member of the royal household, who spent several years working as one of Prince Philip’s aides, and an old family friend, once told us around a family dinner table that the Duke of Edinburgh was undoubtedly given a sense of permanence by his marriage into the Royal Family that was missing from earlier years. But the royal aide would hastily add that Prince Philip, of course, would never see it that way.

Prince Philip’s attitude was to never brood on things or seek excuses. And he did indeed get on with the job in his own way - there should be no doubt that when it came to building and strengthening the Royal Family it was a partnership of equals with the Queen. Indeed contrary to Netflix’s hugely popular series ‘The Crown’ and its depiction of the royal marriage with Philip’s resentment at playing second fiddle, the prince recognised that his “first duty was to serve the Queen in the best way I could,” as he told ITV in 2011. Though this role was somewhat ill-suited to his dynamic, driven, and outspoken temperament, Philip performed it with utter devotion.

3. Prince Philip’s legacy

One could argue rightly that modernising the monarchy was his lasting legacy achievement. But he also tried to modernise a spent and exhausted Britain as it emerged from a ruinous war. When peace came, and with it eventual economic recovery, Philip would throw himself into the construction of a better Britain, urging the country to adopt scientific methods, embracing the ideas of industrial design, planning, education and training. A decade before Harold Wilson talked of the "white heat of the technological revolution", Philip was urging modernity on the nation in speeches and interviews. He was on top of his reading of the latest scientific breakthroughs and well read in break out innovations.

This interest in modernisation was only matched by his love for nature. As the country and the world became richer and consumed ever more, Philip warned of the impact on the environment, well before it was even vaguely fashionable. As president of the World Wildlife Fund (WWF) in the UK for more than 20 years from 1961, he was one of the first high-profile advocates of the cause of conservation and biological diversity at a time when it was considered the preserve of an eccentric few.

For a generation of school children in Britain and the Commonwealth though, his most lasting legacy and achievement will be the Duke of Edinburgh Awards (DofE). He set up the Duke of Edinburgh award, a scheme aimed at getting young people out into nature in search of adventure or be of service to their communities. It was a scheme that could match the legacy of Baden Powell’s scouts movement.

When Prince Philip first outlined his idea of a scheme to harness the values of his education at Gordonstoun by bringing character-building outdoor pursuits to the many rather than the fee-paying few, he received short shrift from the government of the day. The then minister of education, Sir David Eccles responded to the Duke’s proposal by saying: “I hear you’re trying to invent something like the Hitler Youth.” Undeterred he pushed on until it came to fruition.

I’m so glad that he did. I remember how proud I was for getting my DofE Awards while I was at boarding school. With the support of great mentors I managed to achieve my goals: collecting second-hand English books for a literacy programme for orphaned street children in Delhi, India with a close Indian school friend and her family; and completing a 350 mile hike following St. Olav’s Pilgrimmage Trail from Selånger, on the east coast of Sweden, and ending at Nidaros Cathedral in Trondheim, on the west coast of Norway.

It continues to be an enduring legacy. Since its launch in 1956, the Duke of Edinburgh awards have been bestowed upon some 2.5 million youngsters in Britain and some eight million worldwide. For a man who once referred to himself as a “Greek princeling of no consequence”, his pioneering tutelage of these two organisations (alongside some 778 other organisations of which he was either president or a patron) would be sufficient legacy for most.

4. Prince Philip’s character

It may surprise some but what I liked most about Prince Philip was the very thing that helped him achieve so much and leave a lasting legacy: his character.

It is unhelpful to the caricature of Prince Philip as an unwavering but pugnacious consort whose chief talent was a dizzying facility in off-colour one-liners that he was widely read and probably the cleverest member of his family.

His private library at Windsor consists of 11,000 tomes, among them 200 volumes of poetry. He was a fan of Jung, TS Eliot, Shakespeare and the cookery writer Elizabeth David. As well as a lifelong fascination with science, technology and sport, he spoke fairly fluent French, painted and wrote a well received book on birds. It’s maddening to think how many underestimated his genuine intellect and how cultured he was behind the crusty exterior.

He didn’t have an entourage to fawn around him. He was the first to own a computer at Buckingham Palace. He answered his own phone and wrote and responded to his own correspondence. By force of character he fought the old guard courtiers at every turn to modernise the monarchy against their stubborn resistance.

Prince Philip was never given to self-analysis or reflection on the past. Various television interviewers tried without success to coerce him in to commenting on his legacy.But once when his guard was down he asked on the occasion of his 90th birthday what he was more proud of, he replied with characteristic bluntness: “I couldn’t care less. Who cares what I think about it, I mean it’s ridiculous.”

All of which neatly raises the profound aversion to fuss and the proclivity for tetchiness often expressed in withering put-downs that, for better or worse, will be the reflex memory for many of the Duke of Edinburgh. If character is a two edged sword so what of his gaffes?

There is no doubt his cult status partly owed to his so-called legendary gaffes, of which there are enough to fill a book (indeed there is a book). But he was no racist. None of the Commonwealth people or foreign heads of state ever said this about him. Only leftist republicans with too much Twitter time on their hands screamed such a ridiculous accusation. They’re just overly sensitive snowflakes and being devoid of any humour they’re easily triggered.

There was the time that Philip accepted a gift from a local in Kenya, telling her she was a kind woman, and then adding: “You are a woman, aren’t you?” Or the occasion he remarked “You managed not to get eaten, then?” to a student trekking in Papua New Guinea. Then there was his World Wildlife Fund speech in 1986, when he said: “If it has got four legs and it is not a chair, if it has got two wings and it flies but is not an aeroplane, and if it swims and it is not a submarine, the Cantonese will eat it.” Well, he wasn’t wrong.

Philip quickly developed a reputation for what he once defined, to the General Dental Council, as “dentopedology – the science of opening your mouth and putting your foot in it”. Clearly he could laugh at himself as he often did as an ice breaker to put others at ease.

His remarking to the president of Nigeria, who was wearing national dress, “You look like you’re ready for bed”, or advising British students in China not to stay too long or they would end up with “slitty eyes”, is probably best written off as ill-judged humour. Telling a photographer to “just take the fucking picture” or declaring “this thing open, whatever it is”, were expressions of exasperation or weariness with which anyone might sympathise.

Above all, he was also capable of genuine if earthy wit, saying of his horse-loving daughter Princess Anne: “If it doesn’t fart or eat hay she isn’t interested.” Many people might have thought it but few dared say it. If Prince Philip’s famous gaffes provoked as much amusement as anger, it was precisely because they seem to give voice to the bewilderment and pent-up frustrations with which many people viewed the ever-changing modern world.

A former royal protection officer recounts how while on night duty guarding a visiting Queen and consort, he engaged in conversation with colleagues on a passing patrol. It was 2am and the officer had understood the royal couple to be staying elsewhere in the building until a window above his head was abruptly slammed open and an irate Prince Philip stuck his head out of the window to shout: “Would you fuck off!” Without another word, he then shut the window.

The Duke at least recognised from an early age that he was possessed of an abruptness that could all too easily cross the line from the refreshingly salty to crass effrontery.

One of his most perceptive biographers, Philip Eade, recounted how at the age of 21 the prince wrote a letter to a relation whose son had recently been killed in combat. He wrote: “I know you will never think much of me. I am rude and unmannerly and I say things out of turn which I realise afterwards must have hurt someone. Then I am filled with remorse and I try to put matters right.”

In the case of the royal protection officer, the Duke turned up in the room used by the police officers when off duty and said: “Terribly sorry about last night, wasn’t quite feeling myself.”

Aides have also ventured to explain away some of their employer’s more outlandish remarks - from asking Cayman islanders “You are descended from pirates aren’t you?” to enquiring of a female fashion writer if she was wearing mink knickers - as the price of his instinctive desire to prick the pomposity of his presence with a quip to put others at ease.

Indeed many people forget that his ‘gaffes’ were more typical of the clubbish humour of the British officer class – which of course would be less appreciated, sometimes even offensive, to other ears. It’s why he could relate so well to veterans who enjoyed his bonhomie company immensely.

But behind the irascibility, some have argued there also lay a darker nature, unpleasantly distilled in his flinty attitude to his eldest son. One anecdote tells of how, in the aftermath of the murder of the Duke’s uncle and surrogate father, Lord Mountbatten, Philip lectured his son, who was also extremely fond of his “honorary grandfather”, that he was not to succumb to self-pity. Charles left the room in tears and when his father was asked why he had spoken to his son with so little compassion, the Duke replied: “Because if there’s any crying to be done I want it to happen within this house, in front of his family, not in public. He must be toughened up, right now.”

But here I would say that Prince Philip’s intentions were almost always sincere and in no way cruel. He has always tried to protect his family - even from their own worst selves or from those outside the family ‘firm’ who may not have their best interest at heart.

In 1937, a 16-year-old Prince Philip had walked behind his elder sister Cecile’s coffin after she was killed in a plane crash while heavily pregnant. The remains of newly-born infant found in the wreckage suggested the aircraft had perished as the pilot sought to make an emergency landing in fog as the mother entered childbirth. It was an excruciating taste of tragedy which would one day manifest itself in a very princely form of kindness that was deep down that defined Philip’s character.

When about 60 years later Prime Minister Tony Blair’s spin doctors in Downing Street tried to strong arm the Queen and the royal household over the the arrangements for the late Prince Diana’s funeral, it was Philip who stepped in front to protect his family. The Prime Minister and his media savvy spin doctors wanted the two young princes, William and Harry, to walk behind the coffin.

The infamous exchange was on the phone during a conference call between London and Balmoral, and the emotional Philip was reportedly backed by the Queen. The call was witnessed by Anji Hunter, who worked for Mr Blair. She said how surprised she was to hear Prince Philip’s emotion. ‘It’s about the boys,” he cried, “They’ve lost their mother”. Hunter thought to herself, “My God, there’s a bit of suffering going on up there”.’

Sky TV political commentator Adam Boulton (Anji Hunter’s husband) would write in his book Tony’s Ten Years: ‘The Queen relished the moment when Philip bellowed over the speakerphone from Balmoral, “Fuck off. We are talking about two boys who have just lost their mother”. Boulton goes on to say that Philip: ‘…was trying to remind everyone that human feelings were involved. No 10 were trying to help the Royals present things in the best way, but may have seemed insensitive.’

In the end the politicians almost didn’t get their way. Prince Philip stepped in to counsel his grandson, Prince William, after he had expressed a reluctance to follow his mother’s coffin after her death in Paris. Philip told the grieving child: “If you don’t walk, I think you’ll regret it later. If I walk, will you walk with me?”

It’s no wonder he was sought as a counsellor by other senior royals and especially close to his grandchildren, for whom he was a firm favourite. His relationship with Harry was said to have become strained, however, following the younger Prince’s decision to reject his royal inheritance for a life away from the public eye in America with his new American wife, Meghan Markle. For Prince Philip I am quite sure it went against all the elder Prince had lived his life by - self-sacrifice for the greater cause of royalty.

This is the key to Philip’s character and in understanding the man. The ingrained habits of a lifetime of duty and service in one form or another were never far away.

In conclusion then....

After more time passes I am sure historians will make a richer reassessment of Prince Philip’s life and legacy. Because Prince Philip was an extraordinary man who lived an extraordinary life; a life intimately connected with the sweeping changes of our turbulent 20th Century, a life of fascinating contrast and contradiction, of service and some degree of solitude. A complex, clever, eternally restless man that not even the suffocating protocols of royalty and tradition could bind him.

Although he fully accepted the limitations of public royal service, he did not see this as any reason for passive self-abnegation, but actively, if ironically, identified with his potentially undignified role. It is this bold and humorous embrace of fated restriction which many now find irksome: one is no longer supposed to mix public performance with private self-expression in quite this manner.

Yet such a mix is authentically Socratic: the proof that the doing of one’s duty can also be the way of self-fulfilment. The Duke’s sacrifice of career to romance and ceremonial office is all the more impressive for his not hiding some annoyance. The combination of his restless temperament and his deeply felt devotion to duty found fruitful expression; for instance, in the work of Saint George’s House Windsor - a centre and retreat that he created with Revd. Robin Woods - in exploring religious faith, philosophy, and contemporary issues.

Above all he developed a way to be male that was both traditional and modern. He served one woman with chivalric devotion as his main task in life while fulfilling his public engagements in a bold and active spirit. He eventually embraced the opportunity to read and contemplate more. And yet, he remained loyal to the imperatives of his mentor Kurt Hahn in seeking to combine imagination with action and religious devotion with practical involvement.

Prince Philip took more pride in the roles he had accidentally inherited than in the personal gifts which he was never able fully to develop. He put companionship before self-realisation and acceptance of a sacred symbolic destiny before the mere influencing of events. In all these respects he implicitly rebuked our prevailing meritocracy which over-values officially accredited attainment, and our prevailing narcissism which valorises the assertion of discrete identities.

Prince Philip was Britain’s longest-serving consort. He was steadfast, duty driven, and a necessary adjunct to the continuity and stability of the Queen and the monarchy. Of all the institutions that have lost the faith of the British public in this period - the Church, Parliament, the media, the police - the Monarchy itself has surprisingly done better than most at surviving, curiously well-adapted to a period of societal change and moral anarchy. The House of Hanover and later Saxe-Coburg and Gotha (changed to Windsor), since their arrival in this country in 1714, have been noted above all for their ability to adapt. And just as they survived the Victorian age by transforming themselves into the bourgeoise, domestic ideal, so they have survived the new Elizabethan era (Harry-Meghan saga is just a passing blip like the Edward-Wallis Simpson saga of the 1930s).

There was once a time when the Royal’s German blood was a punchline for crude and xenophobic satirists. Now it is the royals who are deeply British while the country itself is increasingly cosmopolitan and globalised. British society has seen a greater demographic change than the preceding four or five thousand years combined, the second Elizabethan age has been characterised more than anything by a transformational movement of people. Prince Philip, the Greek-born, Danish-German persecuted and destitute wanderer who came to become one of the Greatest Britons of the past century, perhaps epitomised that era better than anyone else. And he got through it by making a joke of everything, and by being practical.

I hope I don’t exaggerate when I say that in our troubled times over identity, and our place and purpose in the world, we need to heed his selfless example more than ever.

As Heraclitus wisely said, Ήθος ανθρώπω δαίμων (Character is destiny.)

RIP Prince Philip. You were my prince. God damn you, I miss you already.

Thanks for your question.

#question #ask #prince philip #duke of edinburgh #queen elizabeth II #the queen of spades #monarchy #britain #british #royalty #politics #history #culture #europe #crown #icon #great briton #society

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readermishok · 3 years

Text

Top 20: my favorite interactive stories

Hello, guys!

Once I saw that one of my popular and mostly likeable posts was about IF, I decided to share with you my personal top of the best IF authors I have known.

I read a lot of WIPs (work in progress) and finished novels since three long years, so I might recommend truly incredible stories. I apologies for adding pics and some additional info about my MC, but I wanted to bring spark of life into this top.

MC – Julia (deShanre), she|her.

I'll start with telling about quartet of works greatly affected on me. It was almost like… living my second life. It felt so real, so vibrant. In the darkest times it gave me the strenght to meet the next day.

1. Samurai of Hyuga, Books 1-4 by Devon Connell (WIP, planned 7 books). Patreon. Buy Book 1. Buy Book 2. Buy Book 3. Buy Book 4.

Samurai of Hyuga is a brutal, heart-pounding interactive tale. Prepare to enter the land of silk and steel, where fantasy clashes against grim reality, and where the good guys don't always win in the end. It's a harsh world with tough choices at every turn. Good thing you're the toughest ronin around.

My MC: Ronin, the master of the Jigoku Ittō-ryū, The Sword Who Cuts the Heavens

Jigoku:

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2. Fallen Hero by Malin Ryden (WIP, planned 4 books). Tumblr: @fallenhero-rebirth. Patreon. Buy Book 1.

Become the greatest telepathic villain Los Diablos has ever known! Once you were famous; soon you will be infamous. That is, unless your old friends in the Rangers stop you first. Juggle different identities and preserve your secrets as you build new alliances and try to forget the friendships you've left behind.

My MC: Sidestep Puppetmaster:

Jane (puppet):

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3. I, the Forgotten one by Bacondoneright (WIP, planned dilogy). No tumblr or Patreon|Ko-fi. Demo.

It has been five long years since the end of The Border Wars. Five long years without a purpose. Endlessly drifting around from one job to the next, serving your apathetic father only to receive no credit. Nobody in Kanton truly knows what you did. How you won The War, leading the armies of Kanton as a youth.

Nobody knows what it took out of you. Spending your formative years in war is not good for one’s outlook on life. Your emotions now lie behind a mask of stoicism. After all, all emotions do is cloud one’s judgement and wind up costing lives.

Nobody knows how much it hurt to be cast down from the throne and succession. To be disinherited, cast away from the family, and left aside to die.

My MC: The Marshal, the bastard child:

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4. The Exile by Pheo (WIP). Tumblr: @exilethegame. Patreon. Demo.

You’re the ex-commander of the Kingdom of Plaithus, and your name is known by all. It used to be whispered in fear by your enemies, and the very mention of it could send men fleeing. Your people had cried it out in battle, swords raised in your honor as they faced death fearlessly. You were a hero, and to some, a legend.

Until you weren’t.

You can’t remember what happened. All that’s left are blurry faces, screams, and the feeling of blood on your hands. The only reason you still have your head is because of the pity of an old friend.

And now? It’s only been a year since the incident, and already things are going wrong again when a rather peculiar sorcerer offers you absurd amounts of gold in exchange for protection from… well, that’s the problem, isn’t it? You don’t know.

My MC: the Commander:

Ex-commander.

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Shepherds of Haven by Lena Nguyen (WIP). Tumblr: @shepherds-of-haven Patreon. Demo.

Shepherds of Haven is a dark fantasy interactive fiction game. In it, you play as a Mage living in a world where magic is outlawed and your people—those possessing supernatural powers—are oppressed and reviled. The world is ruled by humans who believe in science, technology, and industry: at best, you and your kind are nothing more than a fairytale, and at worst you are the state’s greatest threat.

My MC: Human Mage, gunner

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God of the Red Mountain (WIP). Tumblr: @friendlybowlofsoup Demo.

You are a spirit born of the Red Mountain–though you’ve run away from it long ago. You’d be content to stay away, too, if not for the mountain god who suddenly comes looking for you. But what purpose do they have? And what exactly is your end goal?

Based on East Asian myths and folklore, you play as a powerful, nameless spirit in a shifting world. As a being caught between death and life, you are connected to a stream of limitless power, and the more you are known, the more powerful you become.

However, your journey will not be so smooth. You have been cursed by powerful, malignant beings known as Foxes, and it’s only a matter of time before you fall from sanity yourself.

My MC: Owl spirit, human appearance

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The Bastard of Camelot by Rebelgirl (WIP). Tumblr: @llamagirl28 Demo. Ko-fi.

Your child will be the undoing of Camelot. Born under an ominous prophecy, you are the incestuous bastard of King Arthur and Morgana Le Fay. Will you fulfill the prophecy, or rebel?

Be the villain they expect you to be, or the hero they don’t- be remorseful or unapologetic, make your destiny or be Morgana’s tool of revenge.

Arthur can’t have any more children, making you the sole blood heir, and sole other Pendragon. As a Pendragon, you have the power of dragons.

The Bastard of Camelot is a trilogy following Mordred as they become a knight of the Round Table, and save or destroy Camelot.

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The Seven Heirs of Ophaesia: Part One by (WIP). Tumblr: @fantasyfawkes Demo. Patreon.

The Seven Heirs of Ophaesia is a low-fantasy game set in a Renaissance-esque world where you play as one of seven heirs to a fictional kingdom rife with intrigue. As the King’s seventh child, you are a prince or princess of Ophaesia, a luxurious nation along the southern coast of Selanes. You are the first child of your father’s third wife, a woman hated throughout the realm due to the pervasive suspicion that she poisoned the previous queen, and her poor reputation taints your image in the eyes of the court and beyond. From your days in the palace nursery all the way to adulthood, you must navigate treacherous court politics and delicate foreign affairs while trying to find your place in the world — and your family.

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Attollo by A.E. Jendryke (WIP). Tumblr: @attollogame Demo. Patreon.

After several years of radio silence, you receive a message from your younger sibling that carries a strange sense of urgency to it. Either out of familial concern, or boredom, you embark on a journey from your residence to your siblings apartment in New Hampshire to see what’s wrong and then get on with your life. Too bad it’s never so simple.

Deal with cults, interdimensional entities, and far too many people with superpowers (where, for once, you’re the odd one out) in your journey to bring your sibling back from an underworld far out of your control.

My MC: lawyer

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Land of the Dragon (WIP) by Hilsee Foo. Demo. Last update was long ago... (crying)

Welcome to the Land of the Dragon! Here you shall experience an adventure in an ancient land, navigate court politics, forge friendships, and maybe even pursue romance if you so choose!

The Dragon Emperor sits upon the throne, as he inherited it from his father before him. But all is not well in the realm. In the provinces, an Uprising is gaining both strength and popularity. At court, the Elder Prince plots in secret to usurp his brother's throne. And within the Emperor's harem, the Empress and Imperial Consort vie for power.

As the Emperor and Empress' only trueborn child, you are at the centre of this power struggle. When all hell breaks lose on your 21st nameday, what will you do to find your place in this world?

All this, and more... In the Land of the Dragon.

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The Northern Passage by Kit H.J. (WIP). Tumblr: @northern-passage Demo.

The Northern Passage is a horror fantasy CYOA, where you play as a hunter sent up north to investigate a series of missing people along the border and in the port cities of the Blackwater.

Working with your handler, Lea, you will travel north and discover that things are far worse than you ever could have imagined, and that there is something powerful lurking out in the deep, dark sea…

My MC: Hunter

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The Nameless by Parker Lyn (WIP). Tumblr: @parkerlyn Demo. Ko-fi.

The Nameless is a low fantasy WIP that is character and romance driven, with your race (sheevra) loosely based on stories about the fey and other myths. Where deals are a weapon and a name is the most intimate secret someone can offer. You play as a sheevra investigating the city of Renescen after the complete disappearance of one of four sheevra Clans in the world, running across a ragtag group of both sheevra and mortalis along the way.

Will you find out what happened before it comes for you?

Mortalis appearance

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Virtue’s End by Crimsis (WIP). Tumblr: @virtuesend-if Demo. Patreon.

In a dark world overrun by monsters from the shadow plane, you exist as a hybrid monster hunter called a helvling, a human whose very soul has been Bound to one such entity. Travelling from warded settlement to warded settlement with your surly Keeper, Shea, you have the thankless task of defending the common folk against these horrors from Hel.

Usually, a fate such as yours is only reserved for the lowest of criminals, as penance for their loathsome deeds… You wouldn’t know if your fate has been deserved, however, since upon completion of your Binding seven years ago, all former memories of your human life have been lost.

You’ve been moulded into a weapon by the Virtuous Order, trained to be an unfeeling and ruthlessly efficient hunter… But is that who you are? Who are you, truly?

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A Tale of Crowns (WIP). Tumblr: @ataleofcrowns Itch.

A Tale of Crowns is a high fantasy love story with Middle Eastern roots, both on pc as well as mobile! It’s entirely text-based, with choices throughout to shape both your main character’s personality and skills as well as influence their relationships with others. There are four love interests for you to choose from, both female as well as male, each with their own stories and secrets for you to uncover!

Crown of Arsur

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Wayfarer (WIP). Tumblr: @idrellegames Demo. Patreon.

When your mercenary work backs you into a corner, you take the only option available and accept a contract: to travel to the city of Velantis and steal an ancient artifact said to be blessed by the gods. Simple, right?

But Velantis holds more than you bargained for. Gathering a ragtag party of malcontents and renegades from across the city, you must navigate enemy factions, meddling guilds, and escalating political tensions. Your choices will ultimately determine the city’s fate – and the fate of every person who lives there.

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When Twilight Strikes by evertidings (WIP). Tumblr: @evertidings Demo.

You are a bounty hunter. Responsible for taking in rogue supernaturals, you work for IAOS—the International Agency of Supernaturals—where, alongside your best friend and partner, you two have quickly become the best hunting duo of the branch. After a particular tricky hunt, you brief your boss, Caine Atheron, and come back to work the next day to find that he has mysteriously disappeared overnight, the company is now in the hands of his best friend, Sebastian Mai. And though no one else seems to question it, something tells you that there’s more to the story.

With bounty cases rising at an alarming rate and a second mystery unfolding, you and your ragtag team of allies set out to find the truth.

But as you go further and further, the secrets you uncover begin to make you question: who… or what exactly are you fighting for?

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Passanger by Pime (WIP). Tumblr: @the-passenger-if Demo. Ko-fi.

Do you like monsters? Do you think they are the best part of their respective movies, books, and shows? Then The Passenger might be the game for you.

The Passenger is a choice script work in progress in which you are an eldritch abomination that’s about to be devoured by another unthinkable creature. Good news is you are pretty crafty and know how to jump dimensions to escape your ghastly fate; bad news is, you’re now stuck on Earth, trapped inside a dumb human larva.

As years go by, you realize the amount of energy you need to leave this horrible dimension behind is a lot more than you anticipated. Not to mention the creature that almost ate you all those years ago never really stopped looking for you. But there’s no way it’ll pinpoint your actual location… right?

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Scout: An Apocalypse Story by Anya (WIP). Tumblr: @anya-dev Itch.

It has been over a decade since a worldwide natural disaster obliterated the natural planet and decimated human civilization. There are small groups of humans still alive, fending for themselves, trying to create communities amongst the rubble.

You are a 24-year old scout living in a small community on the edge of the Orange Plains. You lost your mother and your sister before finding your way here. You are primarily an academic, and you put your skills to use on regular scouting missions. With your best friend and your scouting team leader in tow, your small group is a pillar of the Community.

On your first scouting mission of the hot season, you meet the leader of the People Across the Orange Plains. Will you break from the Community you have known your whole life? Ask a romantic partner to join you? Discover secrets that your own people have been hiding? Become a leader yourself?

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Body Count by Nell Bolton (WIP). Tumblr: @bodycountgame Demo. Ko-fi.

Your life isn’t going how you’d hoped. Despite having big plans when you graduated, you’re stuck in a dead end job and a crappy flat with zero romantic life to speak of. All until a friend convinces you to join the cast of a new reality TV show.

The premise is simple: 12 singles are sent to a villa on a tropical island and they live there together for a month. After 28 days, the couple who is voted by the other islanders as being most likely to withstand the test of time will win £500,000. In addition, the couple with the highest body count will win £500,000. Total prize pool? £1,000,000.

In this context, “body count” refers to how many people you’ve slept with… right? Well, that’s what you think when you sign your contract. Turns out, though, that not all of your fellow cast members will be using that definition to get to the prize.

Fall in love, win big money, solve some murders and try to stay.

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Project Hadea by nyehilism (WIP). Tumblr: @nyehilismwriting Itch. Ko-fi.

You play as an OPERATIVE of Scytha Industries, a highly selective private security company. As their most elite Operative, you possess many skills and talents, not to mention top-of-the-line equipment - including your very own AI module, IVI.

This, of course, puts a price on your head. An AI module goes for billions on the black market; carrying one around in your skull is, perhaps, not the safest idea. Sure, you’re more than a match for anyone who might come after you - but no-one outside the high levels of Scytha knows about it, so you should be safe anyway, right?

Wrong.

Wrong, wrong, wrong.

I do want to thank all these tremendously talented authors for creating such complex and beautiful worlds. I love it with all my soul.

Thanks for reading, I hope you will find story for yourself. I’ll gradually extand this top!

Stay tuned.

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aboveallarescuer · 3 years

Note

I know you've gotten anons about the YMBQ prophecy recently but I was wondering in what context could it be obvious for the reader that Daenerys is the YMBQ if Cersei is most likely to die or leave KL once Aegon arrives and not Daenerys. Even if Daenerys takes KL later on wouldn't he technically be the one to take all she holds dear (her power as regent)?

First of all, Anon, I think it’s interesting that you say that Young Griff (rather than Arianne) would take all that Cersei holds dear in this hypothetical scenario (that most people assume will come to pass). asoiaf tumblr fandom loved (loves?) to take for granted that Arianne would be YMBQ (after all, it was/is taken for granted that she would marry Young Griff and become his queen consort) years ago. At the same time, though, I’m not sure if you’re implying that Young Griff might actually be the one to fulfill the YMB(Q) prophecy in this ask. I actually saw this theory before. So I’m going to make counterarguments to this theory first and then address your question about how and when Dany might be revealed as the YMBQ (and if that’s what you were specifically looking for, just skip to the end, though you might be disappointed by the fact that I'm not really providing definitive answers because I have a lot of doubts myself).

In a way, it makes more sense for Young Griff to fulfill the prophecy rather than Arianne. Let’s remember what Cersei wants the most, which is shown in the beginning of her very first chapter:

She dreamt she sat the Iron Throne, high above them all. (AFFC Cersei I)

Unfortunately for Cersei, she can’t ever actually sit the Iron Throne, which is pointed out several times:

Cersei shifted in her seat as he went on, wondering how long she must endure his hectoring. Behind her loomed the Iron Throne, its barbs and blades throwing twisted shadows across the floor. Only the king or his Hand could sit upon the throne itself. Cersei sat by its foot, in a seat of gilded wood piled with crimson cushions. (AFFC Cersei V)

Seated on her gold-and-crimson high seat beneath the Iron Throne, Cersei could feel a growing tightness in her neck. (AFFC Cersei VII)

Cersei sat beneath the Iron Throne, clad in green silk and golden lace. (AFFC Cersei X)

As the first quote states, only the king or the Hand can sit the Iron Throne, which is what Cersei wants the most, since, to her, it symbolizes almost unlimited power ("high above them all"). Indeed, I would argue that what Cersei holds dear is the chance to reign supreme (“The rule was hers; Cersei did not mean to give it up until Tommen came of age. [...] If Margaery Tyrell thinks to cheat me of my hour in the sun, she had bloody well think again.”), not “her power as regent” (as you put it), which is limited by nature. After all, the king’s wife and mother can’t sit the Iron Throne. This means three things to me:

Queen consorts like Margaery or Arianne (if she actually marries Young Griff, which is far from certain) can’t take all that Cersei holds dear.

Queens claiming power in their own right but who have no claim to the Iron Throne are excluded too. In other words, Asha or QitN!Sansa (another fan theory that’s far from certain and that’s accepted as future canon) can’t take all that Cersei holds dear.

Only a she-king (that is, a queen regnant) with a claim to the Iron Throne can take all that Cersei holds dear - that’s Dany.

But then, we have Young Griff. He is a king with a claim to the Iron Throne, so he could, in theory, take what Cersei holds dear and fulfill the prophecy. However, I find that very unlikely for a number of reasons:

GRRM doesn’t highlight men’s physical appearances or objectify them in the same way that he does with women, as a lot of people have already criticized him for. He makes a point of mentioning women’s accomplishments along with overpraise for their physical appearances (though one might be generous and chalk that up to social commentary about how their society objectifies women instead of giving them their due praise for what they do). He encourages his fans to speculate about who is the YMB(Q) and pit his female characters against each other based on their physical appearances (e.g., people have criticized how Sansa stans often mention the number of times the word “beautiful” appears in Sansa’s chapters to back up their belief that she’s the YMB(Q), but the way GRRM himself wrote the prophecy lends itself to this sort of analysis) because he uses certain tropes uncritically. He portrays fat women negatively in comparison to thin women (see: Cersei (who’s said to be gaining weight throughout AFFC as she becomes more unstable) vs Dany, Lysa vs Cat, Barba Bracken vs Melissa Blackwood, arguably Rhaenyra vs Alicent). He takes an almost voyeuristic pleasure in describing women’s bodies and women having sex with women (see how Dany and Irri’s or Cersei and Taena’s sexual encounters don’t give any depth to Dany’s, Irri’s and Taena’s characters and, as far as I can tell, are mostly written to fetishize them). Consider, for instance, how 13- to 16-year-old Dany is the most sexualized character of the book series, while I’m not even sure if her male counterpart Jon is supposed to be considered attractive or not (on the one hand, he’s attracted women like Ygritte and Val; on the other hand, he’s meant to look a lot like Ned, who’s regarded as plain in appearance, especially in comparison to the hot-blooded Brandon). All of this is to say that I doubt that a man will fulfill a prophecy that remarks upon the person’s physical appearance (“younger and more beautiful”). Considering GRRM’s writing problems, a woman is much more likely to do so.

Young Griff is supposed to represent a lesser version of Dany (note that I’m talking about Young Griff as a fictional character, not as a person). After all, unlike Dany, Young Griff didn’t get to have lived experience of poverty, he didn’t get to have his skills tested, he didn’t get to apply the lessons he learned along the way, he didn’t get to take action and make mistakes and gain valuable experience and wisdom, he didn’t get to choose to stay in Slaver’s Bay solely to help marginalized people who aren’t connected to him by neither blood nor lands (which would emphasize how he doesn’t view his birthright merely as something owed to him, but rather as a means to “protect the ones who can’t protect themselves”). He could have had this sort of character development if GRRM wanted him to, but he has a different role in the narrative: he’s a tertiary character who we’re not meant to know all that much as a person or about how he would fare as king because he serves as a foil to Dany. With all of that in mind, what would be the point of having this minor character, who was introduced in the fifth book of a seven-book series, fulfill this prophecy rather than the one protagonist who the author said was deliberately written as Cersei’s foil multiple times (more on that below)?

Which brings me to a point that @rainhadaenerys made in our upcoming Dany/Cersei meta... Cersei views women with contempt because she thinks that they can only attain political influence with “tears” and with what’s “between [their] legs” (as she tells Sansa). This informs why, for example, she projects the unfounded idea that a widow must have lovers on Margaery or why she herself uses money and sex to keep her men loyal (which ultimately backfires on her). Unfortunately, it’s true that “[Cersei’s] strength relies on her beauty, birth and riches”. Because of her internalized misogyny, Cersei can’t conceive of a woman who might rise to power primarily because of her intelligence and shrewdness… Except that there is a woman who successfully conquered three cities and ruled the third and freed thousands of slaves relying primarily on her actual wit, political savviness and leadership skills rather than on sex, birthright or money… Dany. Dany is the competent, selfless ruler who could overcome many of the patriarchal limitations that Cersei couldn’t (hence why Cersei is a tragic figure). If Young Griff were to be the YMB(Q), he would simply be one of the many men (along with Robert, her brother, her father and the other Hands) who Cersei thinks wronged her and prevented her from staying in power. If Daenerys were to be the YMBQ, she would challenge Cersei’s toxic beliefs about women, which prevented Cersei from even imagining that a she-king might be the one foreshadowed to defeat her or that a woman (that isn’t her, of course) could actually be able to earn her accomplishments (just like she can’t imagine that Jaime might actually betray and kill her). Now, someone might argue that GRRM is not “woke” enough to do this, but I would disagree in this particular case. There are valid critiques to be made about how he wrote his female characters (I’ve made some points myself on the first item), but it’s still true that Dany’s character arc was written with awareness of how her gender affects her experiences. If that hadn’t been the case, AGOT wouldn’t have initially set up several men (Viserys, Rhaego, Drogo) to be claimant to the Iron Throne/SWMTW/the protagonist only to reveal that these roles are actually meant to be fulfilled by Dany, a woman. If that hadn’t been the case, he wouldn’t have had Maester Aemon acknowledge that “no one had ever looked for a girl” when they pondered on who might be AA/PTWP. So I don’t put it past GRRM to make Dany the YMBQ as a way of challenging Cersei’s entire worldview.

Indeed, I actually think that’s likely to be what he’ll write. GRRM has stated multiple times that Dany and Cersei are meant to be compared and contrasted because they were consciously written by him (specially in AFFC/ADWD) as narrative foils:

George regrets that Cersei and Dany will not be contrasted directly. (x)

His biggest lament in splitting A Feast for Crows from A Dance with Dragons is the parallels he was drawing between Circe and Daenerys. (x)

Cersei and Daenerys are intended as parallel characters --each exploring a different approach to how a woman would rule in a male dominated, medieval-inspired fantasy world. (x)

While discussing how he writes his female characters, he also mentioned that splitting the books as he did this time meant we didn't get the parallel between how Danaerys and Cersei both approach the task of leadership, which is a bit of a shame. (x)

And that one of the things he regrets losing from the POV split is that he was doing point and counterpoint with the Dany and Cersei scenes--showing how each was ruling in their turn. (x)

I think Young Griff as the YMB(Q) is very, very unlikely. If it’s not Dany, then I think Brienne (who at least is a viewpoint character that we know intimately) as the YMBQ (though I doubt it because she can only take Jaime away from Cersei and, as we saw in AFFC, Cersei was willing to separate herself from Jaime once she realized that he would question and disagree with her decisions and, in her mind, threaten her influence and power, i.e., what she wants the most) or even Cersei herself (the basis of this theory is that a younger Cersei caused her own downfall by making the choices she made. It’s not impossible considering that Cersei’s unreliable viewpoint prevents her from ever taking responsibility for her actions. Still, I think it’s unlikely because she’s been positioned as a passive participant in these prophecies - someone/some people kills her children, some person takes away everything she holds dear, some person murders her. Just like there’s a valonqar to kill Cersei, I think there’ll be a YMBQ to defeat her) are more plausible candidates. However, as I said in previous answers, Dany and Cersei have lots of clearly intended parallels and anti parallels (hence why GRRM mentioned them at least five times publicly) that people don’t often appreciate (but that I don’t want to mention here because I’m saving them for edits and that long meta). I find it hard to believe that GRRM would lay all this groundwork to contrast these two queens only to reveal that a minor character is the actual YMB(Q).

Now, the question about “in what context could it be obvious for the reader that Daenerys is the YMBQ” is difficult because, IMO, I don’t feel like there’s enough information to give you a reliable answer. First, let’s recap the most common theories, which, while I don’t think should be accepted as canon just yet, are popular for logical reasons. Here’s what GRRM said about the future events in the initial outline and interviews:

While the lion of Lannister and the direwolf of Stark snarl and scrap, however, a second and greater threat takes shape across the narrow sea, where the Dothraki horselords mass their barbarian hordes for a great invasion of the Seven Kingdoms, led by the fierce and beautiful Daenerys Stormborn, the last of the Targaryen dragonlords. The Dothraki invasion will be the central story of my second volume, A Dance with Dragons. (x)

GRRM: Yes, three more volumes remain. The series could almost be considered as two linked trilogies, although I tend to think of it more as one long story. The next book, A Dance With Dragons, will focus on the return of Daenerys Targaryen to Westeros, and the conflicts that creates. After that comes The Winds of Winter. I have been calling the final volume A Time For Wolves, but I am not happy with that title and will probably change it if I can come up with one that I like better. (x)

He said that in his original plan (when he wanted to write a trilogy) the Red Wedding would take place in book one, and Dany’s landing in Westeros in book two. Now he says that Dany’s arrival in Westeros will take place in book 5, A Dance with Dragons. (x)

From there he started to plan a trilogy, since there were 3 main conflicts (Starks/Lannisters; Dany; and the Others) it felt it would neatly fit into a trilogy (ah!), but like Tolkien said, the tale grew in the telling. (x)

“Well, Tyrion and Dany will intersect, in a way, but for much of the book they’re still apart,” he says. “They both have quite large roles to play here. Tyrion has decided that he actually would like to live, for one thing, which he wasn’t entirely sure of during the last book, and he’s now working toward that end—if he can survive the battle that’s breaking out all around him. And Dany has embraced her heritage as a Targaryen and embraced the Targaryen words. So they’re both coming home.” (x)

GRRM’s words seem to indicate that Dany will go to Dragonstone ("they're both coming home") and then King’s Landing in her campaign to take back the Seven Kingdoms before she goes to the Wall to fight against the Others.

And it is quite possible that she will clash with Young Griff. For one:

Hi, short question. Will we find out more about the Dance of the Dragons in future books?

The first dance or the second?

The second will be the subject of a book. The first will be mentioned from time to time, I'm sure. (x)

For two:

"It is dragons."

"Dragons?" said her mother. "Teora, don't be mad."

"I'm not. They're coming."

"How could you possibly know that?" her sister asked, with a note of scorn in her voice. "One of your little dreams?"

Teora gave a tiny nod, chin trembling. "They were dancing. In my dream. And everywhere the dragons danced the people died." (TWOW Arianne I)

For three:

Glowing like sunset, a red sword was raised in the hand of a blue-eyed king who cast no shadow. A cloth dragon swayed on poles amidst a cheering crowd. From a smoking tower, a great stone beast took wing, breathing shadow fire ... mother of dragons, slayer of lies … (ACOK Daenerys IV)

Now, here are my observations/questions/doubts:

The “cloth dragon” receiving a round of cheers from the crowd seems to indicate that a) Tommen will indeed fall from power when Young Griff (who’s already in Westeros almost ready to attack) invades King’s Landing and that b) Young Griff will inspire love from the population.

The more obvious possibility is that the second dance of dragons refers to a Dany versus Young Griff confrontation, especially since she’s prophesied to slay the lie that he represents (that he’s not Rhaegar Targaryen's son, but actually Illyrio’s son and a Blackfyre). However, since Victarion is currently in Meereen with a dragonbinder, it’s very likely that Dany will lose control of one of her dragons to a Greyjoy (either Victarion or Euron Greyjoy himself) and then will arrive in Westeros with only two of her three dragons. Or maybe Euron will use one of the dragons to attack Young Griff and that will be the second dance (though I find that unlikely since, again, Dany is prophesied to slay Young Griff’s lie). Or the second dance could actually refer to Dany versus Euron.

There are alternative speculations to consider. Right now, the consensus in the Dany fandom seems to be that there’s already too much in Dany’s plate for her (uniting all the khalasars and being hailed as the SWMTW; going back to Meereen; meeting Tyrion, Jorah, Moqorro and other characters; maybe going to Yunkai; going to Volantis; etc) to go to King’s Landing, which led to people assuming that only Cersei and JonCon will be involved in the city’s burning. It’s even theorized that Dany might actually skip King’s Landing and go to the Wall instead. These theories make a lot of sense and aren’t implausible, but it’s hard to reconcile them with GRRM’s initial intention with Dany (though it’s also been argued that he may have given part of her initial role to Young Griff). Additionally, I don’t think timeline issues are necessarily a guarantee of what GRRM will do with Dany. He made Tyrion travel much faster than reasonable back in AGOT to have him meet Catelyn in the inn at the crossroads and to be taken captive by her. So I wouldn't put it past GRRM to do something similar with Dany by having her arrive earlier in King’s Landing than she reasonably would just because he wants it to happen. And, as much as I don’t want it to happen and even though I criticized the theory before, I don’t think it’s impossible (though it’s not guaranteed either) for Dany to be accidentally involved in the burning of King’s Landing (though there is a recent counter-theory to that as well).

Re: Cersei, a lot of people tend to assume that she’s going to die when Young Griff takes King’s Landing, but I am not really sure. I do think that her parallels with Aerys II will pay off and reflect her ending. But that doesn’t prevent Cersei from surviving Young Griff’s invasion and meeting Dany later. Cersei could escape to Casterly Rock and they could meet there. Or Cersei could later attempt to retake the capital again in another impractical plan of hers, which then leads to King’s Landing burning. I don’t know.

Does Dany have to meet everyone to fulfill these prophecies? I’m not sure. Does Dany necessarily need to meet Young Griff and Stannis to slay their lies? Does she necessarily need to meet Cersei so that the readership finds out that she’s the YMBQ? Will there even be an actual moment that makes it “obvious for the reader that Daenerys is the YMBQ”? I don’t know, Anon. It may end up being up for people’s interpretation. Dany might end up burning the Iron Throne, if the theory about her accidentally burning King’s Landing actually happens. Dany might willingly melt the Iron Throne and install a new form of government that gives the smallfolk more political influence. Both of these possibilities could symbolize the end of Cersei’s desire for absolute power, even if Cersei and Dany don’t actually meet. I’m not even sure that there will be a moment that outright reveals that Dany is AA/PTWP/SWMTW (even though, IMO, the foreshadowing is way too overwhelming for it not to be her).

Speculating about Dany being the YMBQ is fun for me because it requires delving into her characterization, her parallels with Cersei and canon material in general. On the other hand, speculating about how this would actually happen is, IMO, less interesting (though I still enjoy reading what other people have to say) because it’s hard to accurately predict future plot points with the current information that we have (and I resent how fandom already accepts so many theories as unpublished canon). Dany has too many places to be and too many things to do and it’s not certain that she’ll be in King’s Landing when it burns (though I tend to think she will for the aforementioned reasons), the second dance of dragons can refer to different confrontations, it’s not certain that Dany needs to meet Cersei (or Young Griff or Stannis) to fulfill all these prophecies and it’s not certain that Dany is going to be explicitly revealed as the person who fulfills all these prophecies. We still have two books worth of plot development, so I really don’t think it’s possible to predict how the actual events will unfold. Sorry about not being able to give more definitive answers... I actually ended up making more questions. But that's kind of the point for now.

#daenerys targaryen #young griff #cersei lannister #asoiaf meta #asoiaf speculation #answered

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inky-duchess · 3 years

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Hello duchess. I have a long question if you don't mind. I've been reading A Game of Queens (by your recommendation) ans I love it and the different ways women approach queenship.

As an asoiaf fan, I wondered how would Sansa, Arya and Margaery approach being a queen consort? If said king was willing to enter their marriage as a partnership. How do you think they would perform at court, or how involved with ruling their would be? What projects they would direct their energies at?

(I can't imagine book!Margaery so freely traveling to the poor parts of the city, but she would be involved in charity work. Arya, however would do totally do something like that, but she would be a controversial consort I am sure. Sansa loves poetry so perhaps she would preside over a court full of singers, actors and argue about the classics.)

Sansa: Sansa would be the more successful Queen of the three. She proves it in her actions throughout the books, with her decorum, head for handling situations by peaceful means and her popularity. Sansa had it in her to be a great Queen. Though I would see her patronising the arts, I do see her to take more a care for charity work especially among the poorest of the poor.

Margaery: I think Margaery would make a good Queen, especially in the court. She knows how to play the part, play to whatever tune is wanted or needed. She is wiley, charming and she knows exactly what had to be done to stay alive.

Arya: Arya would be controversial but not in the way you might think. I reckon Arya would be a humanitarian queen. From her experiences, Arya would strive to try work for the people. She would likely be very involved with the running of the kingdom. I would see Arya being a second Alysanne

#Ask answered

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thebooksaidthat · 4 years

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5 Fantasy Book Recommendations with WLW relationships!

Here are five of my favorite books which have FF centered pairings! Thought I would share them so you guys can expand your TBR’s with some sapphic goodness :) They’re not arranged in any particular order because they’re all equally enjoyable for me. I hope this post might help you in any way and I might do another one but for contemporary reads instead soon so stay tuned

1. Priory of the Orange Tree by Samantha Shannon Link to book: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/29774026-the-priory-of-the-orange-tree

Synopsis:

The House of Berethnet has ruled Inys for a thousand years. Still unwed, Queen Sabran the Ninth must conceive a daughter to protect her realm from destruction—but assassins are getting closer to her door. Ead Duryan is an outsider at court. Though she has risen to the position of lady-in-waiting, she is loyal to a hidden society of mages. Ead keeps a watchful eye on Sabran, secretly protecting her with forbidden magic. Across the dark sea, Tané has trained all her life to be a dragonrider, but is forced to make a choice that could see her life unravel. Meanwhile, the divided East and West refuse to parley, and forces of chaos are rising from their sleep.

--> The book is written in multiple perspectives, switching between Ead, Tane and Niclays. I found the story extremely engrossing and the FF couple was just a really nice added bonus! Seriously though, Ead and Sabran’s relationship was fairly slow burn but extremely rewarding to read. Would recommend this wholeheartedly to those who enjoy fantasy and dragons. Did I mention DRAGONS?

2. Girls of Paper and Fire by Natasha Ngan Link to book: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/34433755-girls-of-paper-and-fire

Synopsis: Each year, eight beautiful girls are chosen as Paper Girls to serve the king. It's the highest honor they could hope for...and the most demeaning. This year, there's a ninth. And instead of paper, she's made of fire. In this richly developed fantasy, Lei is a member of the Paper caste, the lowest and most persecuted class of people in Ikhara. She lives in a remote village with her father, where the decade-old trauma of watching her mother snatched by royal guards for an unknown fate still haunts her. Now, the guards are back and this time it's Lei they're after -- the girl with the golden eyes whose rumored beauty has piqued the king's interest. Over weeks of training in the opulent but oppressive palace, Lei and eight other girls learns the skills and charm that befit a king's consort. There, she does the unthinkable -- she falls in love. Her forbidden romance becomes enmeshed with an explosive plot that threatens her world's entire way of life. Lei, still the wide-eyed country girl at heart, must decide how far she's willing to go for justice and revenge. --> Girls of Paper and Fire is a great example of how YA fantasy books should be. The story felt original and the diversity is great too. The characters here are interesting to read about and this was again, another book which I wanted to read on and on just to know what was going to happen. Lei, a girl who like several others were chosen to become the King’s personal concubines. Yes, there are certain parts that might be uncomfortable to read about (rape, sexual assault, abuse) but I think the topic was mostly handled well by the author. It was really nice to read about how the two unlikely concubines of the King slowly find themselves attracted to each other and how their relationship develops with the main plot. The third book from the series will be released on 2021 and I can’t wait to see how the author ties everything up! 3. Breaking Legacies by Zoe Reed Link to book: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/30242712-breaking-legacies

Synopsis: In a land impoverished by a war that started before she was born, Kiena has provided for her mother and brother by becoming one of the best hunters in the kingdom. But when a lifelong friend with connections recommends her to the king to track down a runaway princess, her life gets turned upside down. Finding the princess is easy. Deciding what to do in a conflicting mess of politics and emotions… not so much. --> Now, I know the synopsis does not do a whole lot of justice for the book but trust me, this is one that you want to read. Without going into much details, this was a very fun adventure-ish read where you follow Kiena, the main character of the book, who is asked to look for the princess of the kingdom who ran off to god-knows-where. From blue orbs to finding long lost friends of her father to falling in love with the princess, there’s something that’s always holding your attention. 4. Crier’s War by Nina Varela Link to book: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/41951626-crier-s-war

Synopsis: Impossible love between two girls —one human, one Made. A love that could birth a revolution. After the War of Kinds ravaged the kingdom of Rabu, the Automae, Designed to be the playthings of royals, took over the estates of their owners and bent the human race to their will. Now, Ayla, a human servant rising the ranks at the House of the Sovereign, dreams of avenging the death of her family… by killing the Sovereign’s daughter, Lady Crier. Crier, who was Made to be beautiful, to be flawless. And to take over the work of her father. Crier had been preparing to do just that—to inherit her father’s rule over the land. But that was before she was betrothed to Scyre Kinok, who seems to have a thousand secrets. That was before she discovered her father isn’t as benevolent as she thought. That was before she met Ayla. Set in a richly-imagined fantasy world, Nina Varela’s debut novel is a sweepingly romantic tale of love, loss and revenge, that challenges what it really means to be human. --> A stunning fantasy//science-fiction debut which hooked me from the start. The romance aspect was done well but I enjoyed the world building that the author did with this and I found myself curious about how the system worked. This is basically an enemies-to-lovers trope type of romance which progressed nicely although it’s not completely resolved as it ended in quite a cliff hanger, though the next book will be releasing on September! 5. Girl, Serpent, Thorn by Melissa Bashardoust Link to book: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/51182650-girl-serpent-thorn

Synopsis: There was and there was not, as all stories begin, a princess cursed to be poisonous to the touch. But for Soraya, who has lived her life hidden away, apart from her family, safe only in her gardens, it’s not just a story. As the day of her twin brother’s wedding approaches, Soraya must decide if she’s willing to step outside of the shadows for the first time. Below in the dungeon is a demon who holds knowledge that she craves, the answer to her freedom. And above is a young man who isn’t afraid of her, whose eyes linger not with fear, but with an understanding of who she is beneath the poison. Soraya thought she knew her place in the world, but when her choices lead to consequences she never imagined, she begins to question who she is and who she is becoming...human or demon. Princess or monster. --> Another enemies-to-lovers fantasy to sooth your gay heart! Here’s a fairy-tale like YA which has a bisexual, person of colour protagonist! In short words, it’s about how a girl who is cursed causing her to be unable to touch anyone without killing them and her journey to saving her brother and ultimately, finding herself.

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wherestoriescomefrom · 4 years

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The King and Queen of Elfhame (Ao3)

They said summer brought fruit to Elfhame.

Elfhame was never to experience weather in the same way that humans did, hiding in the underside of the world – in the folds where slips of sunlight arrived. Wherever it did, trees grew and blossomed: only at twilight, never before, their roots glittering as their flowers ripened. Summer was when humans were primed with longing, so that by Autumn they could be stolen from their worlds to fall in love with faeries. Summer was when the smell of fruit promised humans more.

But the wind had changed in Elfhame. Even without the stars to guide them, Baphen warned the court that something was different this summer, and he was ignored. Monarchs and courts had never been bothered to disturb a royal seer, not even during battles. They consulted generals more than they did the stars, rarely paying attention to the way the weather changed.

If they had paid any attention they might even have noticed: not that the sunlight was brighter, but that the twilight was a little pinker. There was a sense of briskness in the air, even as the King and Queen of Elfhame consolidated their power, negotiated treaties, and met with tired soldiers. Faeries said the smell of fruit was a little stronger, but the human consorts could swear that the smell was less over powering. Less sweet. There was a tang in the air which was almost pleasant.

None wondered if it was because of the King and the Queen. At times a thought had crossed the minds of some of the generals from the more ruthless courts: was something different about the summer? Was something different about vows made by loyalty instead of blood oaths? The erstwhile Court of Teeth gnashed their teeth as their assassination attempts were thwarted again and again by the Court of Shadows, and complained wholeheartedly about the existence of a Queen of Elfhame occurring alongside the existence of a King of Elfhame.

Never had there been a King and a Queen before – and for good reason. Fairies weren’t trustworthy, never kind, and certainly never loyal. They lived too long for marriages to last, too long for their marriage customs to not be slippery and dangerous.

***

They said Autumn brought trinkets to Elfhame.

The buying and sale of good was a complicated ritual of gifts and giving, of demands and promises. Faeries exchanged trinkets in Autumn because August was the month of courtship, the luring of humans, and the promise of love was in the air. Everything felt like it was a little colder, somewhat more glittery – fireflies lasted all night and even longer. Dances were organised, spectacles held, more feasts and more fables, stories buried deep inside storytellers emerged again. And what story was older than that of love? What could be more fulfilling?

But the orange had changed in Elfhame. Even without the hum of her spinning wheel and what the weaving of cloth told her, Mother Marrow knew that this was a stranger season than the last. Her daughter had never understood her mother and put the warning aside in favour of the intoxication that the end of summer brought. For she was as in love as any of the other faerie were when August came.

The courts and kings of Elfhame had settled into uncomfortable peace, even as Grima Mog redcap yearned for more blood. They watched the King and Queen expectantly, trying to understand, failing to negotiate, unable to grasp the nature of the relationship between them. The King and Queen of Elfhame were powerful and cunning, each with special skills – clearly committed to each other in a way that had never been seen before. This was what confused faeries – it was a union with no head or tail, a marriage that should naturally be more of a liability to the throne than it was a strength.

Fairy love wasn’t the same as human love – it seemed when love happened to humans, they became giddy and strange and bright eyed. Fairy love was difficult to pin down, it ran as eternal as a river, and changed either slowly or dramatically. It was hard to know when fairies fell in love, and when they understood each other, when they loved each other out of necessity, when they loved in loyalty. It was harder, even, to trust Faerie love. Faerie love was slippery and dangerous – in a game where pleases and thank yous upset the delicate balance of promises, love was sometimes more of an intoxicating liability, other times sharply clever negotiation of like minds.

The faeries said that the love of humans was shallow, even as their eyes following cunning Jude Duarte, the Queen of Elfhame. They watched her change from commanding armies to ruling the land, hoping for the tell-tale signs of a waning loyalty, yet they never came. They watched the reckless Cardan Greenbriar, King of Elfhame to see if his immortal life would comprehend the reality of sharing his life with a human girl, yet that never seemed to come either.

The King of Elfhame had never said he loved Jude Duarte. The Queen of Elfhame had never said that she loved Cardan Greenbriar. Least loved as Jude Duarte was amongst the gentry, and least loved as Prince Cardan had been amongst his family, they never attempted to make much of the fact that they had each other. They danced at times, but he had never seen the King kiss her. They never really held hands – a human gesture of affection – and hardly ever seemed to express anything that sounded like a lover’s vow. At least, not to others.

And yet as Autumn progressed it became obvious that the kingdom had changed – there was a feeling in the air that wasn’t love or goodwill, but a sharpness of colours. Those that had loved humans and had been loved by humans understood it more.

It might have been easier for the courts had Cardan Greenbriar loved Jude Duarte in more obvious ways; it might have been easier if the Queen blushed when he smiled at her. It would have been easier still if the King had threatened the courts with the promise that his love was strong and mistreatment of his wife would only garner anger – at least then, they would have known to scoff privately and use the information to their advantage. Lovers were careless with affection, and it would have been easy – too easy – to take advantage of it.

But rarely, if ever, had the King and Queen succumbed to the exchange of trinkets that came with the smell of Autumn love. It was rumoured that they had once been caught laughing together. It had been rumoured that the Court of Shadows understood. It was rumoured that they were in love.

***

They said that Winter brought ice to Elfhame.

The kingdom froze, and all of the undersea had a film of winter on top. The trees chilled and skin of remaining fruit glassed over. Faeries harvested ghost apples, maintained snow drops and white roses. Hearts froze with the kingdom: winter was a time for peace before spring battles, but it was also a gathering of forces. The winds huddled together and rustled the tops of trees – some even woke before the sunset for to gather warmth.

But the smell had changed in Elfhame. Even without having spoken to the courts with treacherous hearts, the Alderking’s exiled son knew very well that something had changed in the demands between king and court. The land had shifted – the ice had frozen over, but as the King ensured that fires burned in their private chambers for his human Queen – there was a sense of relief and heat in the subjects of Elfhame.

What was love to a Faerie? What was love to a human? And what was love to King and a Queen with all the Folk as their subject? Wild Folk and Shy Folk, Wicked Folk and Clever Folk – for all and every – the relationship between Cardan Greenbriar and Jude Duarte had become formidable, marked by a lack of understanding for those who were not privy to it. Loveless amongst others, but loyal to a fault – they wielded companionship like a matched pair of swords – ceaseless and precise.

They ruled, well matched and clever – each watching the other’s backs until it became terrifyingly obvious to those watching them that the delicate balance of promises and gifts had become more fearsome than any expected from a King and Queen. What was King if he could not be lured from his Queen? What was a Queen if she was not swayed from watching her King? He held power effortlessly while she was cautious, and together it was beginning to look impossible to overthrow them. As long as Jude Duarte and Cardan Greenbriar ruled together, Elfhame would prosper – and no gnashing teeth would ever be rid of either.

And if some knew that behind the cunning and clever, behind the caution and care, were half touches of gently held affection – it was a secret buried deep into the heart of winter. The subjects wondered and the courtiers feared, because there was a sneaking suspicion that the King and Queen had forced the land to be in love.

***

AN: Man it was so interesting writing this - I sort of wanted to explore a story where we see what happens to Elfhame with Jude and Cardan in love, since the monarchs have a connection to the land and all that. When I first wrote this - in it’s first draft, I was telling the story from Baphen’s perspective, but I really didn’t like how it was coming out. I thought I might try the more omniscient style of a fairytale (repeated patterns of sentences and all), and I really liked how it came out.

The other theme I really wanted to explore here was faeries not knowing what to make of Jude and Cardan’s relationship. I know a lot of us write stories where Cardan is expressive of his love (and don’t get me wrong, I LOVE those stories), but I thought about what it would be like if they were King and Queen - and how Jude might not like her vulnerabilities exposed. So I wrote it that way, and thought about how formidable it would be if they were together with love being less of a liability and more something faeries wouldn’t be able to quantify. Can you imagine faeries being like......... wtf.......... they trust each other?? wtf.

Anyway hope you liked it!!!! I am here I like TFOTA and this was my first time writing for this fandom!! Hope it was fun for you :D

#jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #tfota #the folk of the air #jurdan #fanfiction #hello void this is ridiculosity #holly black #the cruel prince #the wicked king #the queen of nothing

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sunsetcurbed · 3 years

Text

you showed me faith is not blind (miracles happen)

Pairing: Alex/Willie Words: 6,587 Rating: T Chapter Warnings: none Chapter: 10/11 read on AO3

Chapter Summary: “Good luck tonight. I look forward to your speech.”

And that left him where he is now, completely sure that he has made a mistake in his decision.

He picks up his phone.

(15:54) lmao nvm

(*)

Alex is not going to be Prince.

He’s not sure why he said he was going to be in the first place because clearly it’s an absolutely ludicrous idea. Alex is barely a functioning human, he can’t be a prince!

He’s pacing his room, keeping his eyes averted from the charcoal grey suit that’s laid out on his bed. He’d just taken it out of its garment bag and it has been taunting him, as if saying this is your future, you don’t belong. And he doesn’t belong, does he? The suit is like nothing he’s ever worn, not even for the dinner a few weeks ago, and if he chooses to become prince this suit would just be the first of many, and—it’s too good for him. He’s not good enough for it. He’s not good enough to be Prince.

He looks at the clock. His driver is supposed to be here to get him in six minutes, but Alex hasn’t even started to get dressed. His family has already left for the Ball, and he’s got no idea what to do.

He might not be having these thoughts if it weren’t for his surprise visitor a few minutes ago, but then again, he might have ended up here no matter what. But, really, how else was he supposed to react after Caleb Covington shows up at his door and completely runs his spirit into the ground? His decision was already standing on pretty shaky legs this morning once he’d woken up, the high from last night gone. By the time he’d taken his anxiety medications, eaten breakfast, showered, and helped his family get ready he was already starting to doubt himself. He was planning a back up speech in his mind. And then—

“Alexander,” Caleb said from the front of his porch, leaning against one of the beams. Alex’s family had just left minutes before, so he was left to face Caleb alone. “How nice to see you.”

“Yeah,” Alex said, “it must be, considering you drove out of your way to come find me. What are you doing here?”

“Such insolence. I’m just here to congratulate you on your big night. Not everyone gets to speak at the Beasigan consulate. You’ll be up there addressing hundreds of people from all around the world; quite the feat for a sixteen year old with almost no formal training.” There was a glint in Caleb’s eye, as if he had known about Alex’s anxiety, knew that Alex’s stomach was flipping as soon as ‘hundreds of people’ left Caleb’s lips. “I just wanted to stop by and ask—“

Alex shook his head. “No,” he said, willing his stomach to settle. “No—okay, I know what you’ve been doing. Chasing down Willie, stalking him to get a read on me. It’s not going to work. You can’t make me do anything.” Caleb stares him down. Alex feels himself bending, as if he’d just disrespected a superior, but he doesn’t crack, doesn’t break.

“Stalking? Please. I just wanted to get to know William,” Caleb said. “He seemed to love skating the streets of Hollywood so much it wasn’t hard to find him. I just thought, as Speaker of the House of Crane, I should be working to get to know our possible future Prince Consort. After all, he’d be around the palace a lot. What with his… duties. Counseling you and charities. He seems the just the type for that, your William.”

Alex didn’t think too much on that in the moment, just crossed his arms and sighed. “My driver is going to be here in thirty minutes. I’ve got to finish getting ready.”

“I won’t keep you. But. The Beasigan people are strong and united,” Caleb hummed, looking down at his nails, studying them as if he’d been looking for any flaws that he might have to file or buff out before the ball that night. “They can be a bit… skeptical… of outsiders. So don’t let that get to you.”

Alex narrowed his eyes. “Really? As I recall, you’re the one who wanted to prevent outsiders from having a place in our country, not the people. And you were stopped. I’ve been nothing but welcomed by everyone I’ve met.”

“And you’ve met how many people?” he asked with a flat voice. “Ten? Twenty? Thirty? Do they speak for our sixty thousand? They’re diplomats, they’re programmed to be polite, being diplomatic is quite literally in their name.” He shoved off the column and walked towards Alex. “But! I’m not here to try to intimidate you, no. I’m here to wish you all the best! Whatever you decide. Truly, Alexander. I just implore you to think.”

“What do you think I’ve been doing since my grandmother showed up in my life?” Alex shot back.

Caleb huffed a laugh. “That’s right.” He turns to leave, and then pauses. “Funny thing about ruling a country—no one really knows what it’s like until they’ve been in that position. Even I don’t know what it’s like. I have experience in Parliament—and you have experience in… Well.” He tilted his head to the side and offered Alex a smile. “But you know what it’s like living a normal life. Your band, your friends, your boyfriend, all without the stress of…” He put his fingers together. “But I suppose you’re right. You have been thinking about it since Queen Louisa entered your life. And I’m sure you’ve considered all the angles, all the benefits and especially the repercussions. You must have had plenty of time to do that, I imagine. After all, you’ve had a month and a half—why, that’s practically a lifetime to consider this. It’s not like you’ve only been given a week or two to make this decision.”

Alex tightened his arms around his chest. “Mr. Covington—“

“Caleb, please.”

“Caleb, I really must be getting ready. I will see you at the ball, all right?”

Caleb nodded. “Of course. You must excuse me, sometimes I forget myself.”

“It’s no worry,” Alex said, even though he could have been rude because no one but himself and Caleb were around. Manners were so deeply ingrained in him by that point that it just… happened.

“Good luck tonight. I look forward to your speech.”

And that left him where he is now, completely sure that he has made a mistake in his decision.

He picks up his phone.

(15:54) lmao nvm

Willie, wonderful Willie, calls within two minutes.

“Hello?” Alex answers.

“What happened?” Willie asks.

Alex sucks in a breath that gets caught in his throat. It turns into a sob. “Why did I think I could do this? I’m not—I’m not cut out for this. I wasn’t born to be a prince. I don’t know why I said I would be in the first place, that—that’s so stupid, Willie, do you realize how stupid that is?”

“No,” Willie says, and then, away from the speaker, thanks someone. Alex hears a car door slam and an engine start. “No, I don’t Alex, because I think it’s a great idea.”

“Where’s the great idea?”

Willie hums. “Hidden behind a wall of anxiety.”

“Oh, cute,” Alex scoffs. “Anxiety saves lives, you know. There are times when your body is telling you something is wrong because it is.”

“Anxiety also keeps lives from being lived. Your body isn’t telling you this is wrong, your body is telling you this is dangerous. And you believe it. You didn’t believe it last night when you weren’t anxious, Alex, and that tells me that you want to do this.”

“I want to do this?” Alex scoffs. “Willie, you don’t even know what you want to do with your life and you’ve got it so much more figured out than I do. And here I am deciding to sign my life away at sixteen to a country that I’ve never been to. A country that could choose to reject me at first sight. A country that I knew nothing about a month and a half ago.”

“A country that you love,” Willie reminds him.

“How can I love it when I’ve only known it for a month?”

“Because you’ve met its queen, and you love her heart and her hopes for the future. Because you’ve met its Prime Minister and you love his ideas and his plans for the future. Because you’ve seen its people and you love them—for all that they stand for and all that they are, and because they are good people and they deserve a good leader, and that’s what you will be.”

Alex doesn’t have anything to say to that, so he keeps his mouth shut. He does love Beasiga, but it feels impossible that he does even with all the reasons that Willie just explained. He’s never even been there. Los Angeles is all Alex has known and Beasiga is 1.5% of Los Angeles’ population and Los Angeles is nearly three and half times the size of Beasiga. And Alex likes Los Angeles because it’s easy to disappear and everyone is so busy they don’t have time to notice you. Alex has only experienced Beasiga through stories and media, but he knows it’s not like Los Angeles over there. People say hi when they pass you on the street, they help you if you’re struggling to carry something too heavy, and they don’t let you fade into the background. He—he likes that, but it also terrifies him.

The silence stretches on over the phone, occasionally interrupted by Willie’s turn signal or the honking of another car, but after a few minutes, Willie breaks it. “You’re wrong, you know. I do know what I want to do with my life.”

… That’s a new development. “Yeah? What’s that?”

“Be Prince Consort to Beasiga’s King,” he says without missing a beat. Alex’s heart skips a beat. “Spend my days helping you help make Beasiga, and the world, a better place. Continue to help move Beasiga forward.”

“Willie…” Alex sighs. He’s torn on being ecstatic and worried at hearing that. “You’re just being—“

“Don’t say I’m just being impulsive,” Willie cuts him off, “because I have been thinking about this since the night you first told me you were a prince. I’ve known I loved you for a long time, Alex, and I’ve been thinking about what this would mean for me since the beginning. I’ve done my research, I’ve thought it through, I’ve sat on it. I’m not just jumping at it first chance.”

Caleb’s words come back to him. He seems just the type for that, your William. No. No he doesn’t. Willie is an active mind, an active body, an active soul. He’s not meant to sit still next to Alex. “Don’t you think you deserve more than that? That if you choose that, you’ll wake up one day and regret it?”

“No,” Willie says, voice confident. “I was never going to make a career out of skateboarding or dance, and it’s not like I can’t still do those in Beasiga. If I’m doing a psych degree in college I’ll maybe look at being a therapist? And who knows, maybe part of helping move Beasiga forward is allowing me to have my own career path separate from my consort duties.”

“What if that doesn’t work? If you’re stuck being a consort without your own career?”

“Being a therapist is just an idea right now,” Willie reminds him. Alex can hear the casual tone of his voice, and it tells Alex that it really is just an idea, that it isn’t something Willie has his heart set on. Still, Alex wants that for him. “I have no idea if I actually want to pursue it or not. But if I do and it ends up not working out, then I’ll still have skateboarding. I’ll still have dance. I’ll still have the ability to make an impact in the world, make differences in peoples days and lives, work with charities, leave my mark. It’s not like I’ll be sitting bored every day. Consorts may have less to do but they don’t have nothing to do. And I can make up my own things to do. Move Beasiga forward. And… I’ll still have you.”

“… And you’re willing to do that for me?”

“I mean, it’s not just for you, it’d be for me, and even in part for Beasiga too, but… yeah.” It’s so simple for Willie to admit that. To say that he’d move to another country, adapt to a different culture, and learn the ins and outs of the country so he could properly advise Alex on how to properly rule that country. Willie’s always made comments—‘I told you, I’d do anything for you’—but Alex had never realized how literal he was being. But, well. If Alex is being honest, he’ll do almost anything for Willie, too. He knows there are things that both he and Willie would draw the line at, but neither he nor Willie would ever dream of asking the other of those things. Like Willie asking Alex to quit the band or Alex asking Willie to give up skateboarding. But Willie moving to Beasiga and serving as Prince Consort along side Alex? Is apparently something Willie will readily do. “If it’ll make you feel better, after you accept your place as Prince we can start talking to Louisa about changing the consort’s duties, so when the time comes, if I want to pursue a career, I’ll have that choice.”

“That… would actually make me feel better,” Alex admits.

“Then tomorrow, after your speech today accepting your place as Prince, we’ll discuss it with Louisa and see what she thinks. Good?”

“Good,” Alex says. Then—“hey. Wait. I still don’t—I still can’t—who said I was going to accept being prince?”

“All right, hit me,” Willie says, and then Alex does—words spilling out of him so quickly that he loses track of what he’s saying. Willie doesn’t though. He listens to Alex patiently and talks him through all of his fears, all of his anxieties. He reminds him of the reasons that, just yesterday, he decided he wanted to be Beasiga’s Prince. Willie listens as Alex questions those exact reasons, and then answers them himself without any input from Willie until it’s entirely a one-sided conversation and Willie is just along for the ride. When Alex comes to the conclusion he still wants to be Prince, Willie asks him how he feels about that, and listens to Alex stammer through half-finished sentences that don’t make sense. And when Alex calms down again, Willie is there to ask Alex if he’s okay, ask him how he can help, ask him if there’s anything he needs.

“No,” Alex shakes his head. “No, I… I’m okay. I think I really, actually am.”

“Okay,” Willie says, accepting his word easily. “All right, I’m turning on your street, come let me inside.”

“You—you’re here?”

“Where else did you think I was going?” Willie demands sounding slightly offended. “Of course I am. I’m gonna get rid of your driver and then we’ll drive to the Ball together, all right? Come unlock the door and start getting ready. I’ll be in in a minute. Where’s your room?”

“Take the stairs, go down the hall and it’s the one on the right.”

“All right. See you in a few.”

Alex does as he’s told and by the time he’s in his dress pants and slipping his button up over his arms, Willie steps into his room. Alex watches as Willie turns and shuts the door even though they’re home alone, and then walks over to him. He takes his place in front of Alex who is straightening his shirt on his shoulders and starting to button it up. They stare at each other, silent. Willie nods, murmurs, “you’re okay.”

Alex buttons up the last button of his shirt and tucks it into his pants. “Yeah,” he says. He reaches to his bed for his vest and slides it over his shoulders. He starts to button it up but Willie’s hands knock his away and take over. Alex watches him with careful eyes. “I’m sorry if I freaked you out.”

“You didn’t freak me out,” he says. He does up one, two, three buttons then smooths his hand down from Alex’s chest to his stomach. “I’m just… I’m kind of pissed at myself that I didn’t think of this. I should have expected this. I know you. It took you so long to decide; you didn’t have enough time to be sure of your decision. I should have known you were going to doubt yourself. You just… you were so sure of yourself last night. I didn’t think—”

“Hey,” Alex frowns, dipping his head down to look in Willie’s eyes. He doesn’t want to tell him about Caleb, not right now, not before the ball. He’ll tell him tomorrow, but right now, he needs Willie, and Willie would be livid if he learned about Caleb. “It’s not like this is on you. Even if you had thought if it, there isn’t anything you could have done—“

“I could have been here,” Willie argues, gripping the suit vest and pulling Alex closer. “I wouldn’t have had to talk you through it from my car. You wouldn’t have had to be alone.”

Alex sighs and reaches a hand up to Willie’s jaw so he can bring Willie’s face up to his. He presses their lips together and feels Willie melt against his front. Alex pulls away and lets Willie fall into him. “You were there when I needed you and that’s all that I needed. I mean, you’re going off to college next year anyway; I’m going to need to learn to survive without you at some point. I can’t depend on you for everything, and I really can’t depend on you to predict when something is going to go wrong and wait for you to fix it for me.”

“But if I can—“

“Willie,” Alex says, and then kisses him again. “You’re the reason I’m in this suit right now ready to go tell a whole ass group of people that I’ve decided I’m going to rule a whole other ass group of people in a few years. You’ve done absolutely everything you can.” Then he pulls away from Willie’s hold, eyes widening. “Shit. Shit. My speech.” He looks at the clock on his bedside table. 5:13 “I’m supposed to be giving a speech in seventeen minutes, fuck!”

“I texted Julie when I got here. She’s finding someone so she can tell Louisa what’s going on,” Willie tells him in a calm voice. “She might have already, okay? Get your jacket and tie on, get your shoes on, and I’ll go call her for an update.”

“Okay,” Alex breathes, and does exactly as Willie says.

When he emerges from his room three minutes later, Willie is standing by his front door with his hands in his pockets. He looks up, takes a hand from his pocket, and holds up a thumb and pinky at Alex telling him right away to relax. “We’re good, dude. Speech is at 6:30 now. It’s still a drive though, and we’ve gotta take Melrose to avoid 10 so we don’t hit rush hour on the highway, but it’s still gonna be shitty so we’ve gotta go now.”

What should be a twenty-minute drive ends up taking nearly an hour, so they spend the time devising a plan to talk to his grandmother about Willie’s hypothetical consort duties the next day. Willie starts telling Alex that they can wait, but Alex tells him no. If Willie is committing to Alex to this degree, then Alex wants to make sure that there won’t be any doors shut in Willie’s future. If Willie wants to be a therapist, he’s going to be a fucking therapist. Alex is sure his grandma will help them make it happen. She’s asked Willie what his plans for college are; yet she’s also made implications that he would be the one standing by Alex’s side if Alex were to be King. Why would she do that if she thought Willie would just be a piece at Alex’s side?

When they get to the consulate, Willie pulls them around back and down a driveway that Alex has never taken note of before. When Willie notices his confusion he says, “the press and guests are all… mingling in the halls.”

Alex snorts. “Did you just say mingling?”

“Yeah,” Willie grins. “It’s what Alden said on the phone. Now it’s all I can think of.”

They enter through the caterer’s entrance into a hall that Alex has never been down and Alden is there waiting for them. He greets them both and then leads the way through the hall, down another, and then another, until Alex can see his grandmother, John, and a few other people waiting at the end of the hall they turn into. He feels relief wash through him and, when his grandmother turns to look at him, he can see that same relief run through her as well.

“Oh, thank goodness,” she breathes out when they reach them. She steps forward and collects Alex into a hug, and then Willie, too. “Thank you, Willie, for sending Julie to inform me of what was going on.”

“No problem,” he shrugs. “I’m just glad it all worked out.”

“What on earth happened?” she demands, looking to Alex.

“Uh, minor crisis. Just… clearing my head, you know.” Next to him, Willie snorts.

“Clearing your head?” she asks.

“Uh… yes?”

She rolls her eyes and tosses her hands up in exasperation. “Well I hope your head clearing worked, because we go on in five minutes. Did you make a decision?”

His eyes flick to Willie. “Yeah. I did.”

“… do I get to know this decision?”

“You know? I waited sixteen years to find out I was a prince. You can wait five more minutes to find out whether I’m staying a prince.”

“Harsh,” Willie murmurs, but reaches forward to hook his pinky with Alex’s.

His grandmother looks down at their hands. She looks back up at Alex and shakes her head with a frown, but the effect is ruined a moment later when she breaks into laughter. “I suppose I can’t blame you for that one.”

They fall into casual conversation after that, his grandmother talking about Tasha and how she’d been asking about Willie today and admitted that he had beautiful hair that she wanted to mess around with. Alex laughs at that and Willie does too, but he notices his boyfriend’s face is several shades darker that it had been moments ago. John talks about how they had to remove two reporters for getting in a physical altercation, and seems gleeful while discussing it. Alden is all too interested in listening to the story, and is crestfallen when, in the middle of it, someone comes to retrieve them for the speech. They’re led down the hallway and as they go, the murmurings of voices grow. Alex can feel himself grow more and more tense realizing that he’s going to be under their gazes soon. Willie uses his pinky to drag Alex’s hand up, and then twists their hands in midair until their fingers are twined together.

“You’ll be fine,” he whispers.

His voice catches the attention of Alex’s grandmother who turns around and sees the look on Alex’s face. She relaxes her shoulders and reaches out, tapping her hands gently to his cheeks. “My dear, you will do wonderfully. I will be right up there with you, all right?” He nods. “Good. Now, I must go introduce you. You have a few minutes to prepare.” She turns to Willie. “Remind him how spectacular he is, will you?”

“On it.”

And then she’s gone.

“Hey,” Willie says, and Alex looks at him with wide eyes. “Hey. You with me?” He nods. “Good. Okay, so—you’re anxious right now because you’re about to give a speech and you think they’re going to be judging you for your speech, right? But those people out there are just out there to hear you step into your role as Prince. Alex, this is a good thing. Those people out there will be excited. They’re here to listen to you speak, not to judge you.”

“What if my speech sucks so bad they can’t help but judge me?” Alex asks.

“It won’t.”

“But what if.”

“Then fuck it—you had a bad speech. Everyone has bad performances. You’ve messed beats up during performances with the band and you don’t let those get to you, you brush them off and are ready to play the next gig. You remember when I was in tenth grade and kicked my shoe off into the audience during a performance and then kept slipping on the stage on my sock? It happened, it couldn’t be helped, we moved on. I moved on. If—and that’s a big if—you suck today, you’ll move on too, I promise, okay? I promise. And I’ll help you move on.” Willie leans up on his toes and kisses Alex. “You can do this, Alex. You know you can do this.”

Alex looks down at Willie and sees sincere, brown eyes staring up at him. He drags Willie in for a hug and just… just holds him. Willie returns the hug and pushes his face into Alex’s shoulder and they simply exist together surrounded by each other in a little bubble. He uses Willie’s breathing, working to match his own to it so he doesn’t start to get worked up again. Willie’s fingers are curled into his upper back and the pressure is just enough to ground him, just enough to keep him here and not somewhere far away in his mind where it really is just the two of them.

The bubble is popped a few minutes later when Alden returns to escort Alex to the makeshift stage. He’s reluctant as he pulls away from Willie, and Willie and Alden both know it, but the important thing is that he manages it. He nods at Alden and they start towards the stage, Willie at his side, right up until they reach the entrance to the hall. “I love you,” he whispers, and then stops in his tracks, leaving Alex to twirl around in surprise. He laughs, shooing Alex towards the stage. “Go.” Alex turns, casts a look back at Willie, and then walks forward.

As Alex steps out from the back hall and feels the weight of a room full of eyes fall on him, a fire roars to life in his gut, flaring up through his throat and leaving a bad taste in his mouth. Spots dance in his vision during his walk to his grandmother, but he takes a moment to think about his breathing, takes a moment to draw in a deep, full breath, filling his lungs with air, and the spots recede little by little. When he reaches his grandmother, they’re all but gone. She smiles at him and extends an arm out, sweeping her hand out to motion to the crowd, and Alex looks out. The fire burns hotter and he looks back to his grandmother. “You have the floor,” she says, and then retreats back several feet away. He wants to reach out, bring her back, cling on to her for support, but he can’t. He steps up behind the podium and looks back to the hallway he’d just come from and meets Willie’s eyes. Willie smiles at him and gives him and encouraging nod. Alex turns back to the crowd, where every eye is focused on him. He thinks: everyone is looking at him because he’s here to speak, not to judge him. He swallows, glances back at Willie once more, and quells the flame to the best of his ability.

“Hi, uh, I’m Alex. You… probably… all know that since my grandma just introduced me. Sorry. I—uh, kinda wish I had my drums, heh,” Alex laughs, running his fingers through his hair. “I’m, uh, no good with being in the spotlight, or, uh, attention in general, um, not unless I’m behind my drums. Or… uh… it’s really more me being with my band…” He looks out at the crowd and is pleasantly surprised when he finds Julie, Luke, and Reggie’s eyes right in the front, and Flynn standing next to them. They’re all wearing radiant smiles and directing them towards Alex, and the flame recedes further down his throat on its own, and he feels himself relax back into his shoes. “Which, thankfully for me, they’re the best band ever and they’re here with me today, so, uh, no fainting or vomiting for me today. Oh—I didn’t need to add that, did I? O… kay. Uh. Anyways. Uh, I’m sure most of you know me, or at least of me, if you’re here. I’m Queen Louisa’s grandson, and Prince Frederick’s son. If you didn’t know this, yeah, neither did I a month and a half ago. Heh. I was shocked too. But, yeah, I’ve gotten used to it. Hopefully you will too.

“Uh, so. Beasiga is celebrating its three hundred and sixth formation day today. For one of the first times, the reigning monarch is not in the country to celebrate with the citizens. Instead, she is here, in the Beasiga consulate in Los Angeles, California, United States of America, with all of us. And she is here because of me.” He looks over to where his grandmother is standing off to the side, her hands folded over her midriff and her shoulders set tall and proud. The fire subsides further. She smiles at him, a motion for him to continue. “Um, my grandmother came at the end of October to meet me and begin teaching me the ins and outs of Beasiga and what it meant to be a prince and what it would later mean to be a king. She dedicated her time here to me not for me, but for Beasiga. Uh, and she did it in hopes that I would become the person she envisioned me to be, in hopes that I would step up, accept my claim to the throne, and rule Beasiga justly and fairly, exactly as she has been teaching me to do.

“What she didn’t expect to come across when she got here was a sixteen year old kid with anxiety who immediately ran away from the idea of being a prince. And I do mean that literally. I, uh. I ran out of the consulate after she told me I would be Prince and had to have my friend come pick me up.” The crowd laughs, some with humor, some unsure, and Alex smiles. Alex turns to look back at the hallway where Willie is still tucked away. He smiles at him and Willie smiles back. It’s only embers left in his gut, now. “Hm. Anyway. Yeah, so, uh, she didn’t expect that, but it’s what she got, and she helped turn that kid with anxiety into the kid who… still very much has anxiety, but can stand up here speaking with all of you. Yes, it’s still terrifying, but it’s not debilitating anymore. And she also gave me a choice. To use everything she gave me to rule Beasiga, or to use it in some other facet of life.” He draws in a deep breath. “I chose to use it elsewhere. I was never cut out to be a prince. I never in a million years dreamed that I could.

“But—could. Could is a word that is used to indicate possibility. Thanks for the vocab help, Google. So… Would it even be possible for me to rule Beasiga? I don’t know. I didn’t know. Even if I wanted to, I didn’t know if it was possible, or if I was able. Able. Be able to. The question became can I? I doubted myself, and I started asking myself that question a lot more often. And then I started asking other people. Their answers varied. Most were encouraging which wasn’t helpful because it’s not like someone’s going to tell you that you’re going to suck at ruling a country, right? Yeah, no. I surround myself with kind people, but sometimes, kind people don’t tell you what you need to hear. But then—there’s one person. I asked him, I went, ‘do you think I can?’ And he said, ‘man, I don’t know. I just care about whether or not you’re willing.’” Alex says, pausing for a long moment. “So, it became a matter of whether I was willing, which was a much, much easier question to answer. Because, well, yeah. I am willing.

“I’m willing to study Beasigan history, politics, government, culture, and anything and everything else there is to know about Beasiga to know the country as best I can. I’m willing to grow myself as a person and conquer fears that once held me hostage to know myself as best I can. I’m willing to put aside my fears and confront uncertainty to find a place for myself in this world. But I’m also willing to dedicate myself to Beasiga through the good times and the bad. I’m also willing to work at finding ways of moving Beasiga forward, at leading Beasiga into even better times than it is already in, which of course will be a challenge, as my grandmother is quite the Queen. And most importantly, I’m also willing to choose the people of Beasiga over myself.

“I prematurely chose to use the skills my grandma gave me in a different walk of life. But today and every day moving forward I will choose to use them for the country and people of Beasiga.” There’s a whoop out in the crowd that Alex can identify as Reggie’s and he can’t stop himself from grinning at his friend. However, the cheer from Reggie starts the rest of the crowd, and now the rest of them are cheering and clapping as well. Alex watches, waiting for them to quiet down. When they do, he looks over to his grandmother and smiles. It’s easier than he could have ever imagined to say, “Moving forward, I will be Alexander Charles Taylor Mercer, Prince of Beasiga.”

Once more, cheers rise from the crowd in front of him. His grandmother walks up beside him and he steps out from behind the podium to meet her. She surprises him when she pulls him in to a hug in front of all these people, but he returns it without any hesitance.

When she pulls away, there’s a man waiting beside them, a royal purple and white mantle held in his arms. His grandmother takes it from the man and turns to Alex. He leans down so she can drape it over his shoulders. It weighs heavy on his shoulders and while he’s leaning down next to her he mutters, “do I have to wear this thing often?”

“Just for the next few minutes. Then you won’t see it again until your coronation.”

“Oh, thank god.”

His grandmother laughs and he stands back up, standing beside her with his shoulders tall and proud. The audience is still cheering—he can pick out Luke, Reggie, Julie, and Flynn’s voices in particular—and there are cameras flashing as news reporters get photographs for their articles. There’s a loud whooping from off to the side, separate from the crowd, and Alex looks over to see Willie cupping his hands around his mouth, cheering. He laughs, beaming at his boyfriend who returns the expression right back, and Alex feels on top of the world.

Dinner is served in the ballroom after that, which sends a wave of guilt through Alex as he knows the kitchens plan meals down to the minute, and his delay must have thrown them off horribly. Even so, the food is wonderful and Alex gets to sit with Willie, his band, and Flynn—or, sorry, his “honored guests.” His grandmother is sat at the table next to him with John, Alden, another commercial attaché, and Jeffry and Daniel. She sends him looks every few minutes, especially when Luke or Reggie get too loud, but they’re never bad, merely amused.

After dinner he’s passed from reporter to reporter while the tables and chairs are cleared out of the ballroom and the floor is swept. Alex imagines that it’s going to take forever, but to his surprise it only takes about fifteen minutes between all the staff working. So he only gets to talk to about five reporters, each for about three minutes, and then he’s being taken back to the hall so he can enter with his grandmother separately.

The music playing is an even tempo, one that Alex has become accustomed to dancing to over the past month and a half. When he and his grandmother enter together, right away his eyes begin searching for Willie. He can’t find him even by the time they reach the center of the room, so he releases her hand and leaves her to go off dancing with whoever has approached her and begins walking circles. He has a flash of anxiety that Willie might have left—maybe Willie didn’t want to be seen with Alex as a couple in front of so many cameras? Or even he knew Alex’s dad was here, maybe he didn’t want to upset the man? Or maybe he realized—

The crowd parts to the left of Alex and Willie steps out. Alex’s heart flutters in his chest and he feels the smile take over his face, sees Willie match it.

They approach each other slowly, not hesitantly, just taking their time to look at each other, which Alex feels like he hasn’t done yet. Willie is in a maroon suit with grey accents and a white under shirt. It’s not fitted to him—not the way that Alex’s is, the way Alex’s almost hugs him. Willie’s is a bit big, a bit baggy, but still fits him well enough that you wouldn’t notice if you weren’t staring. His hair is down, falling over his shoulders and coming to rest right above where his ribs begin, and Alex reaches out to grab a piece of the end of his hair, twirling it on his finger. “You look good,” he says.

“Just noticing?”

“Do you forget I was having my crisis earlier?”

Willie grins. “Right, the minor one.”

“Very minor, it all turned out okay in the end.”

“Good to hear.”

Alex drops the strand of hair he’s holding and steps back, bowing deliberately. Willie smiles and copies him. They straighten up and step into each other’s arms, relaxing into their holds.

“They’re taking pictures of us,” Willie murmurs and Alex can hear the clicking of the cameras too. “Everyone is going to know by tomorrow.”

“I’m glad. I don’t want anyone to feel like I was hiding this from them,” he says. “And I certainly don’t want to hide you.” He presses his lips against Willie’s forehead and sighs. He tips his head forward so his nose is pressed against Willie’s hairline. “Just think,” he whispers, and his voice is barely audible to even the two of them over the music. “Tomorrow plenty of people all over the world are going to see these pictures and realize how fucking in love with you I am.”

Willie pulls away from Alex and stares up at him with bright eyes full of… full of so much. Full of trust, full of care, full of respect, full of warmth, full of acceptance, full of want. “I’m gone on you,” Willie says, reaching up and dragging Alex’s head down for a kiss. Alex goes, and they keep it chaste and appropriate for the venue, but. It was needed.

When they pull apart, Alex pulls Willie closer to him again and Willie buries his face in Alex’s shoulder as they abandon all pretenses of the traditional ballroom dance and decide to simply sway together. Alex holds Willie and looks up, looking around the room to find nearly every eye on them. The eyes of his friends, his family, the press, diplomatic leaders from around the world, and his new country’s government leaders are all on him and Willie. They just saw them kiss. He laughs and thinks, with a sense of déjà vu, yeah, he’d stare at whoever was kissing Willie too.

No fire burns in his gut, no panic wells in his veins.

#willex #willex fic #willex fanfic #jatp fic #jatp fanfic #ysmfinb #my writing

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jupiteriala · 3 years

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Yoon Seungho and Yeonsangun

A hot scary tyrant with anger issues and rampages of violence, a sex addict, a traumatized boy tormented by the shadow of his father… Who am I referring to? King Yeonsangun or our Yoon Seungho? Because both stories match really well.

So on this post I’ll share why I believe Seungho is inspired in Yeonsangun, the 10th king of the Joseon dynasty and the cruelest ever known.

Here I will leave a link with a nice and underrated video I found that summarizes the info on Yeonsangun: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IEUJPNfMMQo&t=295s and will leave some movie recommendations as well.

I will start by summing up the canon facts of Yeonsangun and Yoon Seungho that are very similar, then proceed to do assumptions and theories n.n

TW: This will contain mentions of death, sex, rape and psychological abuse so be careful

>Yeonsangun felt like he lived under the shadow of his father the king Seongjong, he was often criticized by the ministers and compared to him and even aimed some hate towards him as he allowed the death of his mother lady Yoon, same happens with Seungho that says to “be living by the principles of his father” in a very sarcastic way and sends lusty paintings to bother him and having nightmares when father Yoon comes to his mind. Both being the eldest son to inherit all the responsibilities.

>King Yeonsangun was a sex adict, he made a whole brigade of ministers to recruit 10.000 virgins for him who would live in the Sungkyunkwan (basically the Joseon Confucianism university of the capital Hanyang later known as Seul ofc) to serve him making this a brothel. Our dear Yoon Seungho attended and hosted orgies on a daily basis right? Pretty similar. Both known for their crazy libido and not caring about public spaces huh.

>This king was known for his episodes of anger since he was a child and when he became the king (19) killed his tutor the Seungho version of this would be how cold blooded he killed a servant on chapter one.

>Yeonsangun might have been a tyrant but he was also a hottie, described to be a bit feminine having a nice built and a color skin pale as pricey jade just like our protagonist. Here a ss of Yeonsangun being portrayed on the treacherous (2015) pretty hot right?

>Sadly, before getting to know how his mother was killed Yeonsangun was known to be a nice man, a good king caring and organized, brilliant in poetry and smart but turned out the monster the history books describe know because of his traumatic past. This mirrors our potn quote “He was actually one of the brightest young men in this region…” oh my lord Yoon they did you so wrong

>This king is known for the bloodiest purges on Korean history killing a lot of the Sarim faction (basically the scholar side of the politicians and nobility) and Seungho’s family is related to a purge… hmm… This was caused when he found out why and how his mother (Deposed queen Yoon, yeah the surnames are important to be told!) was cruelly killed with poison which ended up in the literati purges.

Those are the canon facts so far! I’ll continue with assumptions now stay with me <3

+This has to be the most fun one and is heavily based on the annals of Joseon and a very well-known film “The king and the clown” (2005) So Yeonsangun had a royal consort that was Jang Nok-su who was his favorite and treated him as a baby

and another known favorite one was his royal juggler whose real name I don’t known but is portrayed as Gong-gil in the movie so the consort was very jealous of the clown who was a lowborn ofc Nok-su is known for being poisonous and villain like while Gong-gil was allegedly a pure and cute soul very feminine like (Are we all getting the Jihwa and Nakyum vibes?) Lemme point out some scenes on the movie that are tremendously similar to our favorite manhwa: So the consort grew jealous of the clown as he got more and more favored by the king, he was the chosen to spend the nights playing puppets to the king and the first thing she noticed was how Yeonsangun looked at Gong-gil, there was even a scene where the consort gets in top on him trying to get him stripped

bc he had received a gift from the king (to Royal robe was on his shoulders)

And guess what the king made? Drag her outside (not by the topknot but extremely similar way) as she yells HOW DARE YOU!! While her little thingy from the hair falls. the level of parallelism, astronomical.

He even has a very worried prime minister who plays his cards in secret to please the king, very Kim like. He even looks like this panel as he was killing someone.

We also get a “Because the way you looked at him is not the way you look at me” shot as Gong gil looks at his partner tenderly

Some extra ones: Yeonsangun had Gong-gil on the palace against his will and allegedly kept him as entertainment but ended up kissing him lol. And Gong-gil used to be a prostitute before (just like Nakyum thought of himslef:c)

+Basically in both of the films I’ve mentioned so far he is portrayed as mentally ill, insomnia, hallucinations, dissociation, etc. And as a child (being treated as one by his consort and having childish behavior, etc.). Which are things I assume SH has too (well he is canonically ill with insomnia though)

+In the treacherous (2015) Yeonsangun likes to paint erotic paintings (which idk if was real but he was smart and skilled in arts such as poetry as I've read so this a nice headcannon about Yeonsangun that could have inspired Byeonduck nim). Plus, the sex scenes are so vivid and explicit... Like Potn

Well thanks for bearing with me now here I go with the last info and some theories (?)

-So what caused this king to be so unstable and such a tyrant was when he found out about the cruel destiny of mother Yoon) Could Seungho’s past be related to something like this? His mother being mistreated and having an indecent death? Or his lover perhaps? Anyways a purge is also mentioned in the manhwa so if you connect some points please tell me!

-His father, Seogjong was praised sure but also banned a member of the Lee clan (The royal clan, yes Lee was their surname just like Jihwa’s also written as Yi) for living and having a daughter with his slave, this makes me remember Mummyeong and Jihwa’s relationship (The girl was Yi Guji) and strengthened the rules towards widoweds not remarrying. Might me just my extra Sagittarius imaginations loving taking everything to the extreme but this somehow resembles how father Yoon fucked up Seungho and Jihwa calling them “ill”

-Finally their names sound really similar, just me? Yeonsangun Yoon Seungho and I mean look at the pic on the video cover and this korean interview on Lezhin... They are twins!

The main reason I do this is to have open discussion, go ahead roast and debunk my theory or praise it!! Reactions, feedback and opinions are welcome. If you want the theory in Spanish text me or text me whenever you want let's discuss let's chat. I am mostly active on twitter @Seunghosgirl

#painter of the night #potn #seungho x nakyum #seungho #baek nakyum #nakyum #jihwa #mumyeong #nameless x jihwa #yeonsangun #the king and the clown #painter of the night nakyum #yoonseungho #yoon seungho

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myforeverforlife · 4 years

Text

weight of the crown.

For @crossandchange! "Hidden Truths" Kyungsoo and 51. "I'm your husband, it's my job."

Pairing: Kyungsoo x Fem reader

Word Count: 3,803

Masterlist

Hidden Truths Masterlist: ( 1 ) ( Final )

You shuffled through the stack of papers in your hand, letting out a long, weary sigh. All day, your head had been throbbing with the pangs of a headache. The work wasn't foreign to you, not when you had been trained since childhood to become the leader of a nation. Ever since you came of age, you had been determined to help your father and take on your share of running Eunali. Content with your abilities and work over the past few years, your father finally announced that he would be stepping down from the throne — with you as his successor. It was an enormous honor and responsibility, all at the same time.

But you weren't alone.

Your wedding band twinkled up at you, so bright for such a delicate piece of jewelry. The gold band had a silver stripe running across the middle, the colors representing the union of two royal families. The kingdoms of Elyxia and Eunali shared decades of close friendship, a bond only strengthened with the marriage of the crown prince and princess.

Kyungsoo even gave up his own claim to his throne, much to everyone's surprise — including your own. Elyxia and Eunali were a day's travel apart, but it would be too hectic and confusing for the pair of you to rule over both kingdoms at once. You could already imagine the headache of relaying messages back and forth day after day. Seeing as Kyungsoo's father was healthy and still fit to rule for years to come, your husband made the decision to support you in your ascension to the throne.

A knock came at the door, two firm taps. You already knew who it was, a smile coming to your face. "Come in!"

The large wooden door swung open, your husband peering in curiously. "It's getting late," he said. Kyungsoo was still dressed in his clothing from the day, dark trousers coupled with a white button-up and a navy vest. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, exposing tan, sun-kissed skin. He walked over to where you were sitting at your desk, dropping a kiss to your forehead.

"You're going to miss supper if you hide in your office like this." Kyungsoo wrapped an arm around your shoulders, peeking at the papers in your hand.

"Is it really supper already?" You looked over to the windows, surprised to see that the sky was considerably darker than it had been before. "I didn't realize," you said with a sheepish smile, turning to your husband. "How was your day out in the countryside?"

"Beautiful," Kyungsoo said with a grin. He had spent the day with some royal officials, meeting with mayors of several villages further away from the capital. "I was glad to see that their crops weren't as badly affected by the drought as we thought. It felt wonderful to just take a walk through nature."

"I'm jealous," you said, standing up and wrapping your arms around his neck. "I spent all day inside. But I got a lot of work done... and then I get to sit through another day of meetings tomorrow." You grimaced, Kyungsoo chuckling at your expression.

"Are you sure this all needs to be done right away?" He picked up a paper from the top of the pile, squinting as he read. "This is for a year-end evaluation of the bridges and roads. That's months away, I'm sure you'll be fine if this isn't completed by tomorrow."

"Public transportation is very important," you countered. "What if I didn't know about an old, faulty bridge, and someone ended up falling into a river?"

Kyungsoo's eyes grew wider. "I think you might be worrying a bit too much."

"The sooner I get all of these completed, the sooner I can take a moment to relax."

"Or you could ask for more help? That's what I'm here for, along with Yixing and the rest of your advisors. You're going to work yourself sick if you try to run an entire country by yourself."

"It's my responsibility to take care of my people, our home. You do too much for me already, going out to meet others on my behalf. Yixing and the rest of my council already have enough on their hands. I don't want to give any of you even more to do."

"I'm your husband, it's my job. I want to help you, to do what I can so that you don't come to bed exhausted every night." Kyungsoo's hands came to rest at your waist, the warmth of his hands seeping through the fabric of your clothes.

Your heart swelled at his concern for you, his willingness to take on more than was even expected of him. But you still had a lot to prove, mostly to yourself. "You're much too sweet for my own good." Leaning forward, you placed a quick kiss on his nose. "But I can do this. I need to do this. Father has been ruling alone, ever since Mother passed. He’s done most of the work himself, and I can do the same."

"His Majesty also has his advisors," said Kyungsoo. "As do you. His Majesty let those close to him help with many of his tasks, Y/N."

"But he still had a hand in most of them," you countered. "Every single document, every request. He read every single one of them, put in all of his effort into doing what was best for the people. No one ever said that this would be easy, but I am determined to do all that I can to the best of my ability." You moved closer, resting your head against Kyungsoo's shoulder as you leaned against him. "I appreciate all of your help, Soo. But I want to do as much as I can on my own. If I need help, you will be the first person that I turn to."

You felt Kyungsoo's chest rise and fall as he let out a weary sigh. "I suppose I can't argue with the queen."

"I'm not queen yet. Not for a few months, anyways. How do you feel, prince consort?" You raised an eyebrow playfully.

A wistful smile appeared on your husband's face. "I can't wait to see Father and Mother again." It had been a while since either of you had seen the king and former queen of Elyxia — since your wedding, to be exact. Kyungsoo's parents had been drifting apart in their marriage, a secret divulged to you after you repaired your own relationship with Kyungsoo. After their separation had been made official, the former queen decided to spend her time using her talents and connections to help others in various lands. She was a busy woman, but she always made time for her one and only son. Despite distance and duties, Kyungsoo's parents made the efforts to keep in frequent communication. Without a doubt, you knew that both of them would be present for the coronation.

"They must miss you dearly. I believe your father's letters have been growing longer and longer," you said, unable to hide your amusement. "It's very touching, though — I suppose absence truly makes the heart grow fonder. We'll have to go and visit him as soon as we get the chance to."

"I'd love that." Kyungsoo pressed a kiss to your forehead, pulling back right away to stare at you in concern. "You're burning up. How have you been working all day?"

You pressed the back of your hand to your forehead, suddenly aware of the intense warmth there. "I've had a headache for a bit, but I thought it was just the events of the day catching up to me."

"I'll have them send supper to our room so you can rest as soon as you finish eating," Kyungsoo said, already fussing over you.

"Oh, my papers though," you protested, even as Kyungsoo began ushering you towards the door.

"It can wait until tomorrow," he said firmly. You could hear it in his voice — there was absolutely no room for debate on this.

You took a last glance at your desk as Kyungsoo pulled the door closed behind both of you. A knot of worry began to form in your stomach at the thought of all the work being left behind. However, you figured there was nothing a good night's rest couldn't fix. You were determined to jump back into work the next morning, no matter what.

In a cruel twist of events, you only felt worse the next day.

Your entire body felt too heavy to move and you were still afflicted by a headache, a constant haziness clouding your mind. But still, you had things to do.

Of course, your husband wouldn't hear of it.

"The sooner you recover, the sooner you can return to work." He sat beside you in bed, dressed in his clothes for the day while you were still in your nightgown.

"The needs of the people won't stop for me because I'm not feeling well," you fought back. "I was supposed to meet with the group organizing the construction of the new hospital."

"Yixing is more than capable of handling matters for today. They'll only be talking over details, no decisions will be made without you. I'll even be there to sit in on all of your meetings, and report everything back to you." Kyungsoo held your hand, his firm grip and solid reasoning alleviating some of your worries.

"But still," you began weakly. Unconsciously, you reached up to play with the charm of your necklace. It was a delicate, fragile piece of jewelry, but it had once belonged to your mother. The necklace never failed to help calm your nerves, the touch of cool silver familiar against your skin.

Kyungsoo scooted closer, letting go of your hand to push a strand of hair behind your ear. "I know how much this pains you to stay in bed all day. I can bring some of your things over for you to work on, but," he grew serious. "You still need to use this time for rest. The physician will be back in the afternoon, I'll be back by then."

"Has anyone told Father? He just got settled at the summer palace, I don't to worry him into making the journey back just to check on me."

"No one has told His Majesty yet. I thought you would object if we tried to send him a message."

You smiled in relief, eyes closing. The royal physician came by not even ten minutes ago, but you were already feeling the effects of the medicine she had given you. "Thank you, Soo. It's just a slight fever, after all. I'll be fine in a day or two."

Kyungsoo watched as you began to drift off to sleep, running his hands through your hair comfortingly. The corners of his lips lifted up when you began to snore lightly, mouth falling open as you breathed. It was the most peaceful he'd seen you in a while, possibly for the first time in months. He wasn't surprised that all of the late nights and busy days were finally catching up to you, but he wished he could do more to help. Although Kyungsoo was only prince consort, he knew enough about the duties and responsibilities expected of a ruler. He had once been a crown prince, after all.

Your husband was determined to take care of things while you recovered, to look after your subjects with just as much care and concern.

While you slept undisturbed in the quiet comfort of your bedchamber, Kyungsoo spent the day downstairs convening with your advisors. Meticulous notes were taken on every matter with the intention for you to look over them once you were better. Every report was summarized, every new proposal drafted up with a list of potential pros and cons — as well as additional background information. Work was almost as it usually was, large tasks made simpler thanks to the room full of officials. At this point, the only things left were a few more meetings to be held outside the castle.

"I didn't think we would be able to get so much completed," Yixing said in an aside to Kyungsoo. "Well, almost completed. The workload would be much less taxing on Her Highness if we had a system like this every day."

"I had the same thought." A series of scribbles appeared in the margins of Kyungsoo's paper as he ruminated. "I'll ask her about it tonight. I know she's always been adamant on doing things herself, but she'll end up collapsing from exhaustion at this rate."

Yixing nodded, resting his chin on top of his hands. "I suppose she believes it is a weakness to ask others for assistance, especially in a position like hers. But not even a regent can rule a kingdom entirely by themselves."

"Exactly," Kyungsoo mumbled. "While I hope Y/N won't work herself sick in the future, I have no doubt that this will happen again." As Kyungsoo remembered how you looked completely worn out, he suddenly thought of the times he had been ill and stuck in bed. There was one thing that always managed to make him feel better...

"Your Highness." An advisor came over from the other end of the room, a document in his hand. "There was a note made last week by Her Royal Highness to check on a series of business that were destroyed in a fire. Shall I send whoever is available?"

"No need." Kyungsoo stood up, pushing his seat back. "I shall go myself, I was about to head into town anyway. May I?" He gestured to the document, reading over it as the advisor handed it over. Perfect, Kyungsoo could finish up one of the last tasks for the day, all while preparing a special treat for you.

"Would you like me to come with you?" Yixing asked, about to get up from his chair.

"I appreciate it, but I'll be fine. But if my wife wakes up while I'm gone, please keep her company for me." Kyungsoo patted Yixing on the shoulder as he passed, heading off in search of his riding coat and hat.

All of the best goods from the market might be sold out by this point, but Kyungsoo was sure that he could still find ingredients hearty enough to boost your spirits.

You sat in bed, back propped up with a couple of pillows as Yixing relayed the events of the day to you. To your surprise, Kyungsoo and the rest of your council had done most of the tedious, busy work for you. While you read through all of the notes that had been written up, you were hit by an immense wave of relief. "You've practically done most of the work," you gasped.

"All that's left is for your final review and decisions," Yixing added. "Your husband fared much better than I thought he would. He certainly has the makings of a wise and efficient leader."

Filled with pride, you couldn't help the grin rising to your face. "I'm glad to hear that. I hope it wasn't too much for all of you."

"It was doable because we divided up all of the tasks," Yixing said with a raise of his eyebrow.

His hint didn't go over your head, the back of your neck heating up at his words. You gave a sigh of reluctance. "I know, Xing. To be honest, seeing everything that the council did today has taken quite the load off of my shoulders. Don't let him know I said that though."

Yixing brought a hand to his heart. "My loyalties are to the queen," he said with a wink.

Kyungsoo entered to the sight of you laughing at your friend's silliness, glad to see you looking much more energetic than in the morning. A guard held the door open for him, seeing as he was busy trying not to drop the tray in his hands. "How are you feeling?" he asked you.

"Much better. Perhaps all I needed was a good, long nap." You tried to get a better look at what Kyungsoo was holding, nose picking up a mouth-watering scent. "Did you bring food from the kitchens?"

"Soup, to help you recover. Careful," Kyungsoo warned. He placed the tray over your lap, trying to avoid any lumps in the thick blanket.

Your mouth fell open, stomach already growling at the mention of food. "This looks amazing — and it smells delicious too." You held your hand out to Kyungsoo, squeezing his in thanks.

Yixing got up from his seat with a smile, straightening his jacket. "I'll take this as my cue to leave. Enjoy your meal." With a parting bow, he soon left to give the two of you some privacy. Kyungsoo took Yixing's empty chair, settling down into it as the door clicked shut.

"I've never seen this soup before," you mused, stirring your spoon around in the broth. Pieces of chicken and various seasonal vegetables floated around in the soup, only adding to its appeal. "Is this a new recipe?"

"It's something Mother used to have the cooks make when I sick as a child. If this doesn't lift your spirits right away, I don't know what else will."

You inhaled deeply, lifting a spoonful to your mouth. "I think it's working already." After a few breaths to cool down the piping hot broth, you finally got a taste. As soon as the flavors hit your tongue, your eyes grew larger with excitement. "Soo," you said, raising a hand to cover your mouth as you chewed. "This is heavenly, I can't believe this."

Kyungsoo chuckled softly, tickled by your reaction. "Eat up. You need all of your strength."

You heeded his advice, digging into the soup with fervor. "I'm going have to give the kitchen staff my compliments in person."

Your husband looked away, avoiding your gaze as he fiddled with his fingers. "Ah, well... I made it."

The spoon in your hand almost fell into the bowl, slipping the slightest bit. "You made this? Soo, this is one of the most delicious meals I've ever had."

"Now you're overreacting," he said, shaking his head with a grin.

"It's true! I would offer you some, but I don't want to get you sick. Did you save some for yourself?"

"I told the kitchen staff that they were free to help themselves to the rest. I tasted a bit as I went along, but I don't think it's worth the praise you've given me."

You set your spoon down with a clatter, metal bumping against porcelain. "Soo, I can assure you that you deserve all of the praise for this — and more. You are a man of many hidden talents, it seems." Upon remembering the heavy responsibility he had taken on while you were sick, your voice softened. "Thank you for all that you did today. Yixing told me that you led the council, and he showed me all of the work that was done."

Kyungsoo scooted closer, arms coming up to rest on top of your blanket. "It was nothing, I did it so that you wouldn't have to worry."

"It means everything to me," you replied. "I know that I was being stubborn about doing things myself, but it was because I never wanted to be a bother to anyone. You and Yixing helped me to see how much more efficient it is to have all of the council working together — and much less stressful for me," you added with an embarrassed laugh.

"Does this mean you'll let us help you?" Kyungsoo asked.

"Yes, and I will be extremely grateful for everyone's assistance — especially yours, my hardworking husband." On instinct, you leaned forward to kiss him, barely managing to remember that you were ill. You moved back in a flash, slightly disrupting the tray on your lap. "I'll be so happy when I'm all better," you grumbled.

Hiding a grin, Kyungsoo lifted your hand to his lips, kissing the back of it gently. "Don't rush yourself. It's good to take things slow, to take a break for yourself once in a while."

"Ah, speaking of breaks. I was thinking that we could take a day off to go visit Father at the summer palace. We could get our fill of fresh air, and check in on him. It'll be a very small vacation."

"A much deserved vacation," Kyungsoo added. "I think it's a great idea."

You beamed, smiling from ear to ear. "I can't wait! I haven't been this relaxed in a long time, what with plans for the coronation and all. Only a few more months, and then it will all be settled."

"You'll be Queen Y/N then. Are you nervous?"

"A bit. I keep seeing the coronation as the final stretch, the last big event before I get to live peacefully for the rest of our lives. But I know that's far from true." Glancing down at your joined hands, you bit down pensively on your bottom lip. "I don't like to think of the crown as a burden, but sometimes it does feel stifling. I've only gotten used to the full responsibility this year, and I'm always terrified that I'll be faced with something that I can't solve."

Both of you sat in the silence that followed, Kyungsoo thinking over your words. "I've heard it said that the best way to learn is through experience. Our fathers were born into greatness, but they also have decades of growth and mistakes that helped to shape their reigns. They also had trusted people who stood by them, even during their darkest times." Kyungsoo's hand tightened reassuringly around your own. "I may only be prince consort, but I will do everything in my power to help you keep our kingdom safe. I will never turn my back on Eunali or you, my queen."

You were deeply touched by his earnestness, eyes glimmering with moisture. For once, you were the one at a loss for words.

Kyungsoo reached up with his free hand, cupping your cheek and running his thumb over the skin there. Immediately, you leaned into his touch, eyes closing. There was no need to speak, not when both of you could feel the love in every touch, every glance.

The weight of the crown was a heaviness not many could withstand, but you were lucky to have Kyungsoo to share it with. It was your birthright, a promise bestowed upon you from infancy. Despite your many worries, you would never abandon your destiny.

And so began a new chapter in your life, the fairytale only continuing to unfold.

A/N: it’s been so long since I wrote for this universe! it only made sense to me to skip forward a few later, as y/n and kyungsoo are getting ready for the coronation. the hardest part was figuring out how married would work if they were both heirs in their kingdoms (do they just rule over both, but travel back and forth?? I regretted making their kingdoms far apart in the original fics lol) but since y/n’s father was sick in “hidden truths”, I figured it made more sense to have them rule in eunali with soo giving up his claim to his own throne. I had to go back and reread the original fics a few times to realy get into the feel of writing from their perspectives after so long (as expected, y/n is just as stubborn as she was before 😂)

Hidden Truths Masterlist: ( 1 ) ( Final )

#exo #kyungsoo #kyungsoo scenario #kyungsoo fanfic #exo scenario #exo fanfic #writings

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