;; 𝓉𝓈𝒶𝓇'𝓈 𝒹𝒶𝓊𝑔𝒽𝓉𝑒𝓇

     so i’m going to be archiving this blog.  on my new blog, i’ll be pretty exclusive.  i won’t follow anyone unless we’re actively writing together.  if you want the url, feel free to message me, but i will be selective!

The sight of her causes him to pause. His shoulders tense, his breathing becomes irregular, and he can almost feel his heart skip a beat in his chest. His face has paled  as if he has seen a ghost. 

“ No. I am not… You are not— ”  But she seems so calm, so blissfully unaware, and who is he to ruin that? How were you to tell someone that they are a ghost? Did he want to be the one to do so?  “ Yes… it has certainly been a while. What are—What are you doing here? ”  His voice is strained, and he is unable to bring himself to step any closer. As it is, he is having a difficult enough time maintaining his composure from where he stands. 

      common sense tells her there must be a reason behind his breathlessness  ---   indeed, the prince looks as if he has just woken from a nightmare.  is something wrong with her? unconsciously, tatiana’s hand drifts up to her head, to check her kokoshnik is still in place.  for a moment, there is a sharp pain in her skull  ( like a bullet piercing one end and flying out another ).  when it fades, she is standing behind him, and the room looks darker than before.

       ❝  you are not here for a ball, ❞   she says.  suddenly, it seems obvious.   there have been no balls in this drafty, decaying ballroom for a long time...  but this was once the grandest room in the winter palace.  her brows furrow in something close to fear.  she takes a step towards him, bare feet making no sound against the crumbling floor.   ❝  i’m not sure...  why i am here.  why are you here? ❞

      oh, how he wishes and wishes to tell her the truth and speak to her freely without restraint, but his mind is too occupied with the sensation of controlling his pain rather than outweighing the pros and cons.  in fact, as her hand slides to his back, her touch is the only thing left preventing his mind from spinning into a loose frenzy.  he should;  it is the correct thing to do, to tell her and be over with, to call a healer into their chambers and let the misery be a thing of the past.  ( but will he?  he must.  but does he?  no. )  hand clamping down further at his side, feet shuffle in preparation to stand himself up.  “ you have not witnessed me after many battles, tatya, ”  he speaks, actively avoiding the question by swiftly formulating a different conversation.  “ no man is the same until they have gotten a DECENT night’s  — ”  a pained groan reverberates as his torso lifts from the chair.  “ …  respite. ”

       there is a moment when his words humble her, as effectively as a child swatted on the hand. of course, she has never seen peridan in his element as a warrior  ( save for the moment he rode in to save her from the red storm ).  she does not know what TOLL battle takes on a man, or on peridan himself.  what right does she have to assume, to demand?   just as shame strikes her, peridan stands, and his moan wipes ALL HER DOUBTS away.  tatiana’s heart leaps into her throat.  maybe it is too many years doting over her little brother through feverish agonies, but she is sharply sensitive to the pains of those close to her.  she seizes his bicep to steady him, alarmed eyes searching his person for any sign of injury.      ❝  respite!  ❞  she exclaims, a bit too loudly.   ❝  by the lion, peridan, you can hardly stand! ❞

     his spare hand balling into knotted fingers, peridan wastes no effort in smiling as if not one haunting thought has ever crossed his mind  —  expression wavering in dismissal of her kind concern.  he mustn’t lie.  after all, she is his wife…  his tatya…  and they promised to the stars above that no secret would stand in their way.  but he cannot bare to see worry consume her once more  —  not whilst everything is so perfect.  its just them;  the image of tatiana beside him inflicts the sense of INVINCIBILITY.  yet perfection isn’t the word which springs to mind as his bloodied hand rejoins with the sting of broken skin.  it is unbridled pain.  nothing more, nothing less.  “ you should finish your meal, my dear. ”  softly spoken, he bares NO EVIDENCE of pain in his voice.  “ dare not my tiredness part you from satisfying your hunger. ”

     It takes a moment of stirring drowsily to realise her words have meaning and it consequently sends his brain into a gentle spin.  His cupping hand drifts downwards to brush his eye.  He is getting too tired; maybe if he  — ?  No, he MUSTN’T.  Peridan pulls his fingers from his face gradually prior to settling it on the soft surface of her upper stomach.

     Tenderness embodies the Earl as his head finds a more relaxing rest upon the edge of her chest.  Images of endless, greedy love dissipate, leaving him full to bursting with a smooth desire for mellow rest.  Even so, lips cannot resist borrowing a taste of skin from her collarbone, his own silken touch comforting her with his words.  “ Tell me when you are ready.  I  —  I’ll listen.  ALWAYS. ”

      she finds herself humming, not quite a lullaby, but something close  ---  an old favorite of her little brother’s, engraved upon her memory from countless nights coaxing alexei through his fevers.  this is a far more peaceful setting, far more intimate, and she could not be happier than to spend it here, with the man she loves.

        right here... yes, that’s it.  she cannot tell if he is paying attention, or if he has already begun to drift, but tatiana mutters the words anyways. if they are to belong to her alone, an unconscious secret shared between them, then so be it.   ❝  i want to stay here... with you... forever. ❞

“ of that , i have no doubt . “ there’s a faint hint of excitement on her lips , at the sound of her words . she knows that tatiana isn’t trying to exaggerate , she lives for the idea of grandeur . how can one turn down such pretty , sparkling things . it had been her lessons in life to aim for them , strive higher than anyone else . father and mother instilled the idea of the more extravagant the better and she soaked it in . though it didn’t necessarily always match what she truly believed , she’d fallen in love with the idea and sight of everything pretty . 

hands fall over heart as tatiana talks . she can almost imagine the place as the girl talks , and she’s heard of it before . a constant desire to go , just to see , has always sat with the girl . “ swans and ponies !? “ she’s near laughter as they walk . “ oh , that sounds lovely , almost as if it was pulled directly from a dream . i do hope that one day i can visit , you should remember me when you do return home finally . i would love to come visit for a time . “ she’s all smiles now , just picturing what the palaces could possibly look like . “ i’m sure i would be completely in love with the place . the idea your gardens is almost beyond exciting . i do love a good walk , it’s once of the things i miss most about scotland . how pretty the world around us always seemed to be , despite our sometimes horrid weather . “ 

a grin on her face , but she enjoys the talk . despite the jab at her heart at the idea of never going home again , she does miss seeing it . even her dreams are full of what it used to look like when she stepped outside her door . “ it was the field at home that always got me . we used to run and play on it always . our house had enough land so it felt we were always far from everything , i adored it . “ 

     there is something beautiful in hearing kenna speak of scotland.  she glows with the memories, and all of that warmth leaks into her words. nothing could make it more obvious how much kenna loves her homeland, how it is a part of her.  that’s something tatiana can understand.   ❝  oh, that sounds delightful!  like your own kingdom, your own little world. ❞  

     it is strange, talking so candidly with someone else  ---  someone her age  ---  about their respective homes.  in russian court, gossip is the order of the day  ;;  tatiana has heard enough, though her mother has been so careful to keep all her daughters away from those detrimental influences.  indeed, the royal family stays away from court entirely...  and as a result, tatiana has found very few opportunities to make friends her own age, on equal footing as herself.  all the young woman of court know the grand duchesses as the lovely images which appear in their portraits...  nothing more.  

     french court, on the other hand, is filled with young ladies...  and tatiana is not as held back as she might be at home.  despite the unpleasant circumstances surrounding her arrival, she’s delighted by the thought of making a friend.    ❝  you’ve been away from home for a while, haven’t you?  since queen mary arrived in france?  that cannot be easy. ❞