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Words Left Unspoken [PK]

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Posted (edited)
Spoiler

 

 

Words Left Unspoken

 

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A young Charlotte Cecilia d’Arkent captured candidly writing within her study.

 

The following pieces would be found throughout Charlotte’s many journals. The most honest of her thoughts, her regrets, her admissions, her heart, lived through her writing. 

Each page would be scattered with pooled ink spots where she lingered too long with her quill, and stray tears littering the words scrawled.

 


 

For Daniel Louis                  

              Kyr. 

        He didn’t even remember those three letters. I thought I meant more to him than that. The day he first showed me the library in his plans I nearly cried, and when it had finally been built, a physical place for my dreams to flourish, it exceeded every expectation I could have set. 

 

        You helped me realize my dreams, but refused to allow me the ability to return the favor. I thought that of everyone, he would confide in me. I hurt too, every day, but… 

 But I was never your solace before. 

 

       I’m expecting too much, aren’t I? I try not to burden you, so why would you do that to me, someone you vowed to protect? You spend years trying to cushion my every fall, why would you reveal something like this to me? I screamed at you, I cursed you, I can’t believe I... How can I apologize, Danny? I’ll swallow my pride, I’ll quiet it however I can, I need to silence this constant whisper of guilt. 

 

For Peter Baldwin

 

        You’ve never been a sad person, not outwardly at least, but to see your smile today, to see you this colorful and alive. In that moment, I finally saw my brother’s heart heavy, so full that it spilled over. You were always the one who took care of me, day in, day out, an inseparable pair we were. Why did we lose that? Why didn’t I try harder to keep up with you? You were busy with the guard, and I was lost in my journals. But truth is, you always had time for me. I can only blame myself for losing you, & that realization... 

 

         I never wanted to fall away from you, but it’s clear that I did this, our relationship dwindling was my fault. We’ve spent a thousand nights tangled up in silly stories, lost in our own world where nothing could touch us. Those are the nights I recount when I feel so terribly lost, I will always think of you.

 

For Mary Philippa

 

     God, why is she so insufferable? Always better, always prettier. 

 

     She is better though, isn’t she? Always elegant, gracious with everyone who isn’t me. Why do we hate each other, Mary? How did we fall apart like this, I never wanted it... but maybe you didn’t either. The plight of two daughters of a Duke living perpetually locked in this competition. We care not for ourselves or each other, just vying for the approval of everyone else, everyone who frankly does not matter. How pointless.

 

     I’ve pretended that I didn’t want you in my life, such a dense lie. I always wished to be something you could find happiness in, a sister that made you proud, maybe I still can... I’ll admit, when you first married Green, I thought of it as nothing more than a stunt, but the way he looks to you.. How could I have been so wrong? Even if your happiness stems from everyone but me, I will find a way to cope, as long as you are happy.

 

For Charles Henry

 

     I could never tell if your humor stemmed from a place of love, or loathing of me. Honestly, I couldn’t blame you either way. Most find me abrasive, hard to cope with, but you, you always accept me with open arms. Whenever I speak to you, it’s as if we were raised together, as if our lives had never been disconnected.

 

     I always thought you would treat me differently, worse. That the distinction in our blood would cause you more pause but it never did. And now I wonder, what does that say of me? You are my brother, regardless of your other half. But have I proved that to you? Or have I left you thinking that I would, or could opt to live without you? You’ve completed us, Charlie, you’ve known us for so little in comparison and yet you’ve broken every barrier without attempt. We are not a family without you. 

I’m not whole without you.

 

For (the only) John Sigismund

 

     I remember the day that I begged you to spy on dad and Leo because I so desperately did not want a husband. And of course you obliged, protecting me like you always did. My big brother swooping in to shield me from anything that could hurt me, real or imagined.

 

     All those times we spoke about what we would do when we were older, how you would adventure off and be the valiant knight who came to rescue us when we needed you. How you would fight for the defenseless. I so looked forward to hearing your tales, of hearing of the Princess’ you saved and enemies you struck down. Oh, how I wish to hear those stories today, but now I realize that having a wandering, noble brother means that you hardly have time to tell them… I miss you so dearly, John, where are you? 

 

For Alexander Joseph

 

     Your kindness has always struck me as one of the purest things I’ve seen. Someone who I could never even attempt to emulate, God, I’m far too rash. Maybe that’s why I pulled away from you, because there was so much about you that made me feel insecure about myself, a stupid plan when I think about it blankly. How could I learn when I hide?

     I hope you didn’t notice my hesitance with you, it’s not something you deserve. I regret it so much. I just.. I’m sorry Alex. I’m sorry I have never been the sort of sister for you to lean on. I am sorry I have never been the person for you to confide in.

 

For Mother & Father

 

     Am I in the wrong? To live, fueled by resentment. It wasn’t something I wished to do, but there is no containing it. I am many things, but discreet is not one of those. To bite my tongue when there is so much poison in my mouth, I never could. Where do I put it? How do I cope with this? I hate to carry this around with me, taking it out on you with my every breath, to have formed into this cold of a woman. I’ll never say this to your faces, but I am sorry, deeply sorry.

 

For Leo

 

     Is it possible to miss you more today than yesterday? That’s how it feels at least. But your name comes out of my mouth more now, and it doesn’t rip me apart each time. The years I spent with you, they shook my reality, destroying everything I had built in my head about you. The image of a Prince who loved himself more than he could ever love another. I only wish I could have seen that Prince meet his daughter.

 

     Those days talking endlessly about anything, everything. You warmed me more than any fire could, melting through my frigid self to find the girl trapped inside. When we do meet again, I don’t think I could be pried away from you. Once has been more than enough.

 


 

With her last moments, Charlotte’s small frame would rest in her sister, Mary Phillipa’s arms, the last place she had expected to find comfort. Her weakened hands gripping onto the silky green fabrics, holding on as if it might help her remain. The panic flooding into her cold grey eyes, her fear laid bare as she gasped for air, trying to fight her fate with all she had left. With each cry, every tear, Mary would hold Charlotte tighter than before, offering soft murmurings of comfort.

Charlotte’s mind was plagued with worry for her only child, but in Mary’s embrace, she knew that Catherine was safe. She would have everything, more protectors than any child could want, the unending love of each of her kin to fill the cup of the tiny Helvetii.

 

“You will see Leo again.” 

 

Mary whispered to her, her voice carrying over the sound of the pouring rain around them, the words that soothed Charlotte’s terror. With that, her body still pouring crimson would finally fall limp, the last of her life flowing from her form.

 


 

REQUIESCE IN PACE

1733 – 1761

Charlotte Cecilia d’Arkent Helvets

Survived by her daughter Catherine Helvets,

& her closest of kin, Charles Henry, Daniel Louis,

Mary Philippa, John Sigismund, Alexander Joseph and Peter Baldwin

 

 


 

Edited by Koanda

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Posted (edited)

“Looks like we’ll need to hitch you to some peasant girl now Bruv.” Richard snorts, elbowing his brother the Duke Robert.

Edited by duscur

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The blood on the floor, the body of his sister once so full of life, these images would haunt Charles forever. He loved his half-sister, despite their quarrels. He felt terrible for Catherine, the poor child of 3 who is already orphaned. However, she wouldn’t be raised without family. That is for certain.

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Lauritz wandered into the empty Varoche Hall, leaving the d’Arkents to say their goodbyes to Charlotte. They had gotten off on the wrong foot, he knew that much. Yet he had tried to redemy it to the best of the ability, and came to consider her a friend. Yet, such an idealistic scenario would soon come to shatter and he could only wonder if he could have done anything differently. He leaned his head upwards to the chandelier: “You never did tell me about that fight.”

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In the Barony of Selm, Peter would look at the portrait of his Entire Family and then towards Little Catherine who laid in a crib, right beside his own child, he would then drive his face into his hands, his face tired, “Oh Charlie, It has barely been a day and I already miss you terribly...” he’d state, 

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Posted (edited)

John can know nothing but rage. Those who tell him his daughter is dead, he rebuffs with cascades of insults.

 

“Liars, you all. Brutal creatures of darkness come to swallow me with your deceptions. My daughter will not die before me.”

 

They shrink away from him, the pair of women that admitted his daughter’s death to him. Their eyes water as his rage builds, and they continue down the street, or wherever is away from the violent, cruel man he embodied.

 

John lets a grin spread across his face, his teeth gritted tightly behind it. His dead daughter had hated him, and made it more than clear. He had resolved to spend the last days of his life teaching her of his undying affection before he himself would fall into the river to heaven. He believed that he could, if he threw everything he was to it, prove to her that he did not deserve to be hated. Then, he could die happy, his wars fought and children left in the hands of a world he built for them.

 

His delirium continued. He would never teach Charlotte of his sacrifice. She would never cry in his arms for forgiveness, or love him. This man, this old Knight, broken so many times, was more at home in these agonies than he was elsewhere.

 

And so, the whiskey. Again.

 

 

Edited by BenevolentManacles

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Sir Oskar sits quietly in an office at Bastille. An adjutant waits as the knight scrawls something on a piece of parchment. Once he was done, he hands the parchment off.

The adjutant rushes to the square before standing near the statue of the Emperor Peter III. He reads the parchment aloud to those at the square.


All Belmonts, must die.”

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Mary Philippa didn’t sleep that night. Or the next, or the one after. Instead, she simply lay there- eyes open, recalling the events that had transpired in each painful detail, over and over. There was no denying that both Charlotte and Mary had seen the best, and worst of eachother.

 

They had fought, as sisters did, again and again until there was nothing more that could be said, no more insults to be thrown. Yet, as the years had gone by in Charlotte’s absence to Kaedrin, Mary had felt an emptiness she’d never felt prior. The halls of Selm seemed quieter, too quiet. No amount of degrading titles and sour words spoken about her sister behind her back could deny it. Charlotte had embodied a certain sense of self that Mary could only wish she had, and she’d forever envy her for it.

 

And when Charlotte returned, pained in loss of her husband and a baby in arms, she saw that sense of self once again. As Mary watched Charlotte upon that balcony, on the eve she’d remember for years to come- she had only thought the worst of her sister. She always had. Charlotte had assured her days prior of her own ability, of her own strength in stepping forth into something unknown. She had thought the best of Mary, always.

 

Mary was never a religious woman. She had always felt nothing was above, and all that remained was on the world she lived in. But as Charlotte lay dying in her arms, the life slowly leaving her as the blood did, she prayed. She prayed that a God might reunite her sister with her late husband, and that someday- her too.

 

For Catherine would live without a mother. John and Vespira would live without a daughter. Charles, Daniel, John and Alexander would live without a sibling. Peter, without his twin.

 

And Mary would live without her sister, by nothing but her own hand.

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“My poor niece Catherine, now an orphan, how your mother must have suffered.” Prince Henry Frederick lamented.

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As Karina comforted Charles, she thought back to her own past. She wished that in that moment she could give her life to return the souls who had been lost to the green plains of Arcas. Though she never knew Charolette well, she had an empty feeling regret which was she never did. Only through the words of her companion would she learn of her kind heart and courageous attitude. 

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Alexander would walk through the gardens of Selm at midnight. He was unable to catch any sleep that night and for the nights to come. He could not find any peace in his favorite hobby. He felt no motivation for brewing new drinks for the estate. He could only see his sister’s limp body in the arms of Mary.  He took a seat at one of the benches scattered around the estate

 

”I’m sorry that I wasn’t there to protect you Charlotte. I promise Catherine will be safe.”

 

The man spoke softly as the breeze carried his words away into the dark.

 

 

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Solomon looked forth towards the Barony of Selm, gripping the Lorraine cross that sat by his neck. “We did not speak much, but you were most kind. Undeserving of this wretched fate.”

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    Marianna simply frowned, reclining into a chair at her estate, beginning to feel an ache for the orphaned child, being one of the same. “I shall keep an eye out for her, dear d’Arkent.”

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