Alone and Sublime

[zuziee 3223]

Marlene von Alstreim, although young, knew the pains of losing a mother. Her own had died the day of her fourth birthday.  So, when her uncle told her of Aleksandra’s mother she made a bouquet of black lilies and hung it upside down over her bedroom door. 
 

At dinner, her father would ask about the flowers to which her response was “Once they are dried, I will gift them to Lady Aleksandra.”

[Demavend 286]

The loss had come, as he had known it would. Though, the Lord Ruthern's grief did not abate. It was not a sharp pain, but some aching emptiness that seemed at once to envelop him. He had always been strong for them, why then had none the grit to do as he did?  

Raising a hand to his temple, the Duke of Vidaus fell into his seat with a slow sigh, reaching again for the tinctures that filled the floor of his desk drawer. His had always been a lonely path, but now 'twas all that lay before him. The cold breeze through the rafters reached him, then. And in it's biting chill, she was at his side once more.

[Herod 802]

"Oh, well..." Uttered a voice in the Everardian Basilica, as he lit the candles. Whilst his younger self may have been elated with the news of the Princess Royale's death, the man's singular eye widened in terror for a split moment, before falling onto pity for the fallen Princess.

[DahStalker 2858]

Silently a woman of scyfling blood sought to pour herself a glass of drink, having revoked that aged cork with subtle wiggles of the textured material. “Everything.” She began with ushered bitterness, tucked away within her room as her dying husband slept. “Happens for a reason.” With a hoisted hand and cradled drink, she drank - mute in her pondering as she thought of the woman's life which she knew of; the selfishness, the bitterness, her nature of cruelty, and traumas she had endured. “You deserved everything which life has presented you, and yet cowardice laced your final moments. Dreadful woman- karma is a b****.” Elia Eryka sniffed, taking a moment to indulge on her hatred prior to shifting towards the doors, placing on a facade of simplicity and happiness. 

[Fionn__TWG 2616]

20 minutes ago, DahStalker said:

Silently a woman of scyfling blood sought to pour herself a glass of drink, having revoked that aged cork with subtle wiggles of the textured material. “Everything.” She began with ushered bitterness, tucked away within her room as her dying husband slept. “Happens for a reason.” With a hoisted hand and cradled drink, she drank - mute in her pondering as she thought of the woman's life which she knew of; the selfishness, the bitterness, her nature of cruelty, and traumas she had endured. “You deserved everything which life has presented you, and yet cowardice laced your final moments. Dreadful woman- karma is a b****.” Elia Eryka sniffed, taking a moment to indulge on her hatred prior to shifting towards the doors, placing on a facade of simplicity and happiness. 

 

Spoiler

 

[[Actual rp response below]]

 

Wilheim looked up from his desk as a BSK pen pusher handed him an announcement of the Princess Royal's passing. Then did his own pen rest upon the desk for a time, the Marshal leaning back in his chair as he idly scratched at his beard in thought. The pen pusher, nosy bastard as he was, stood at the doorway.

 

"Was she a friend, sir?"

 

"She was, ja. She was ein ***** as well, but Ich suppose it's ein requirement of Princesses lately."

 

The soldier then nodded, before finally closing the door, though it's sound was faded to the man. The third loss of a time past finally forced the man to finally think back on those days, when duty was a distant age away, and friends were unconditional. Duty had a funny way of pulling people apart, he had learned to realise as time went on.

[liz 962]

Ophelie might have wept, in another life, were she not hardened by decades with nothing but the solitude of her own making to keep her company. She might have held her children close -- her little raven-haired, green-eyed children -- and beseeched them to make the most of every moment. In another life, she might have sat at the hearth of her new King, or the aging Ruthern Duke, and reminisced on the unending support Analiesa had lent her throughout the years, or the sisterly affection the two had held for each other in their youths.

 

But this life was what it was; it was cruel, unfeeling, and impossible to bear. Instead of weeping, or loving, or looking back, Ophelie merely knelt before the altar. She had learned long ago that GOD heard not her prayers, but she knelt nonetheless and prayed to her God, or any that would listen, to allow her to join Analiesa, and Mathilde, and all those who had left her behind.

[GMRO 5252]

An old man, an old father and an old king wished the best for his daughter. She was often one for melodramatics as he remembered, though it was the case of all princesses nowadays. She served her kingdom admirably, he thought. She served dutifully, he thought. She lived up to be my daughter, he thought.

[marslol 672]

A Queen of short reign, yet endless patience, watched as yet another member of her family made their way into the Heavens. A hand beckoned the Princess over to a thin spot with a smile despite it all that happened and happens in life - dual-coloured curls falling over steel-hued eyes. 

 

"Come. Your brother is about to brave quite the storm. Let us make sure he survives together."

[garentoft 8353]

Somewhere, somehow, a man felt his already wounded heart ache more than usual.

[MissToni 3487]

Katerina had been watching Analiesa from the seven skies for quite a while now. The woman had wished so many times to have come down and just embrace her and telling her it would be alright. But all she could do was simply watch as she became the shell of the strong woman she had known. She supposed the legend was true, that all Barbanov princesses were cursed to not have the best life. One filled with misery. But there had been happy moments too, no? 

 

"Oh Analiesa, my dear. Ea pray for vyr soul. To think vy would go like this, if only ea could have lived longer and been vyr strength. Forgive me" 

[Eryane 3629]

A youthful image had emerged from wherever Analiesa had gone to, with her small arms opened wide as ever in waiting for the warm embrace of her mother. Elizaveta was not the fragile child she had been many years ago upon her deathbed, or during any bouts of sickness prior. Her cheeks were full of color and life, filled out without the hallowness of perpetual ailment. There was nothing to say and nothing that could be said, as all of her words were engulfed in her long-awaited desire to reunite with her mother once again.