Memories and Prayers

[MunaZaldrizoti 8037]

Spoiler

 

 

 

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Victoria sat in the royal bedchamber, a sewn quilt draped about her shoulders. A large fire burned in the hearth, and her two maids had prepared a small lunch for her to ease the cravings that had been brought on by her pregnancy. She had read somewhere that light foods were good for a pregnant mother, so the queen had wasted no time in collecting the vegetables needed to make a fine soup. As she nourished herself, she glanced to a small ornate box that sat upon a shelf on the other side of the room. I had forgotten that was there. The wood was almost black, carved with vine and grape patterns. She took another spoonful of her soup, and gently motioned for one of her maids. "Could you bring me that box, just there?" She gestured to the shelf, and the box was placed beside her mug of cider with clunk. "What's in it? It's quite heavy, miss." The maid looked at her, Victoria noticing she was slightly out of breath. She'd set her spoon in her bowl, taking a sip of her drink before responding, "Just...some jewelry. Most of them are just wedding gifts." The maid nodded, seemingly content with the answer. Victoria gave her a warm smile, wrapping her quilt about herself further, "Shall we get back to our sewing? I have those shirts for the King I need to finish, and the baby's quilt for the nursery." The two maids nodded with big grins, scurrying off to get the needed materials for their evening work. As the queen stood, she glanced back at the box. She pursed her lips, her mind bringing up images of her father. She shook her head, sighing quietly as she turned to follow her maids from the room.

 

Later, in the dead of night, Victoria returned to her room. They had finally finished the shirts, thought the quilt still needed it's final patches sewn in. She had been excited when she proposed the idea to her maids, a great quilt for her firstborn that depicted the origins of the Descendant races. Heial would appreciate it, She had smirked to herself after telling them. With said-quilt folded over her arm, she placed it in her wardrobe and glanced over to her husband, sleeping after a long day of war games. To think...I am the wife of such a handsome man. Victoria smiled to herself, moving across the room to slip from her courtly dress into her nightgown. She pinned her hair up, and pulled on a thin robe to cover her shoulders. Her eyes trailed over to the vanity mirror, where she noticed the black box still sitting on their dining table. It haunts me. She glanced back at it, parting her lips and taking a deep breath. Sending a look to her husband in bed, she stepped towards the table and lifted the lid from the box. A blue-silver egg sat inside, upon cushioned red velvet, the now-dying fire from the hearth sending rippled of light across the stone-like scales. She studied it carefully, for any cracks or scuff since she had last polished it's surface, and then lifted it from it's container. It had not seemed so heavy when she had received it as a child, but as she had grown older she realized how weighty it was. She'd turned it carefully within her palms, almost hypnotized by it's everlasting beauty. It is my last connection to my father. For a moment, she thought of tucking it back into the box and hiding it away, a relic to simply pass down to her children and their children. However, the reflection of the flames upon the scales kept her attention, and her heart fluttered for a moment. She glanced between the hearth and the egg, the light filling her own eyes as much as it reflected dimly on the egg's surface, and she crept over to the fireplace upon creaking floorboards.

 

Kneeling down on the bearskin rug, she placed the egg in her lap and reached for a scoop of coals tucked off to the side. She poured them into the brazier that made their daily fire, and a quiet sizzle filled the room as rock met heat. The queen looked over to her husband, who slept deeply, and then brought her visage back down to the item in her lap. My Father's soul is in this egg. She closed her eyes, taking one final breath before going to place the egg in amidst the coals and flames before her. She recoiled as a bit of fire licked at her wrist, clutching her wrist afterward in silent pain. Victoria lifted her eyes from her wound to the fire once more, the egg now sitting comfortably in the pile of charcoal. The burn stung and made her wince, but she closed her eyes all the same. I know what I must do. I must try. 

 

Victoria bowed her head, and began to pray.

---

 

 

[Old-Rattlesnake 1534]

Hundreds of miles away the faint sound of a shouting Ascended can be heard echoing through the mountains.

 

"OH MY GOD I'M GOING TO BE A GRANDPA."

"OH MY GOD I'M GOING TO BE A GRANDPA."

"OH MY GOD I'M GOING TO BE A GRANDPA."

"OH MY GOD I'M GOING TO BE A GRANDPA."

[Malgonious 2758]

Ser Hakon would rock in his chair, watching the young generations come into their bearing.  

"I'm old..."

[Narthok 10416]

11 hours ago, EternalSaturn? said:

 

  Reveal hidden contents

 

 

 

 

---

Victoria sat in the royal bedchamber, a sewn quilt draped about her shoulders. A large fire burned in the hearth, and her two maids had prepared a small lunch for her to ease the cravings that had been brought on by her pregnancy. She had read somewhere that light foods were good for a pregnant mother, so the queen had wasted no time in collecting the vegetables needed to make a fine soup. As she nourished herself, she glanced to a small ornate box that sat upon a shelf on the other side of the room. I had forgotten that was there. The wood was almost black, carved with vine and grape patterns. She took another spoonful of her soup, and gently motioned for one of her maids. "Could you bring me that box, just there?" She gestured to the shelf, and the box was placed beside her mug of cider with clunk. "What's in it? It's quite heavy, miss." The maid looked at her, Victoria noticing she was slightly out of breath. She'd set her spoon in her bowl, taking a sip of her drink before responding, "Just...some jewelry. Most of them are just wedding gifts." The maid nodded, seemingly content with the answer. Victoria gave her a warm smile, wrapping her quilt about herself further, "Shall we get back to our sewing? I have those shirts for the King I need to finish, and the baby's quilt for the nursery." The two maids nodded with big grins, scurrying off to get the needed materials for their evening work. As the queen stood, she glanced back at the box. She pursed her lips, her mind bringing up images of her father. She shook her head, sighing quietly as she turned to follow her maids from the room.

 

Later, in the dead of night, Victoria returned to her room. They had finally finished the shirts, thought the quilt still needed it's final patches sewn in. She had been excited when she proposed the idea to her maids, a great quilt for her firstborn that depicted the origins of the Descendant races. Heial would appreciate it, She had smirked to herself after telling them. With said-quilt folded over her arm, she placed it in her wardrobe and glanced over to her husband, sleeping after a long day of war games. To think...I am the wife of such a handsome man. Victoria smiled to herself, moving across the room to slip from her courtly dress into her nightgown. She pinned her hair up, and pulled on a thin robe to cover her shoulders. Her eyes trailed over to the vanity mirror, where she noticed the black box still sitting on their dining table. It haunts me. She glanced back at it, parting her lips and taking a deep breath. Sending a look to her husband in bed, she stepped towards the table and lifted the lid from the box. A blue-silver egg sat inside, upon cushioned red velvet, the now-dying fire from the hearth sending rippled of light across the stone-like scales. She studied it carefully, for any cracks or scuff since she had last polished it's surface, and then lifted it from it's container. It had not seemed so heavy when she had received it as a child, but as she had grown older she realized how weighty it was. She'd turned it carefully within her palms, almost hypnotized by it's everlasting beauty. It is my last connection to my father. For a moment, she thought of tucking it back into the box and hiding it away, a relic to simply pass down to her children and their children. However, the reflection of the flames upon the scales kept her attention, and her heart fluttered for a moment. She glanced between the hearth and the egg, the light filling her own eyes as much as it reflected dimly on the egg's surface, and she crept over to the fireplace upon creaking floorboards.

 

Kneeling down on the bearskin rug, she placed the egg in her lap and reached for a scoop of coals tucked off to the side. She poured them into the brazier that made their daily fire, and a quiet sizzle filled the room as rock met heat. The queen looked over to her husband, who slept deeply, and then brought her visage back down to the item in her lap. My Father's soul is in this egg. She closed her eyes, taking one final breath before going to place the egg in amidst the coals and flames before her. She recoiled as a bit of fire licked at her wrist, clutching her wrist afterward in silent pain. Victoria lifted her eyes from her wound to the fire once more, the egg now sitting comfortably in the pile of charcoal. The burn stung and made her wince, but she closed her eyes all the same. I know what I must do. I must try. 

 

Victoria bowed her head, and began to pray.

 

---

 

 

8

 

Arthas hopes that the Queen Consort is praying properly

[SaltAlt 606]

10 hours ago, Malgonious said:

Ser Hakon would rock in his chair, watching the young generations come into their bearing.  

"I'm old..."

2

 

Fuze Yaander would get Ser Hakon his daily prune juice. Saddened by the state of her once middle aged friend.