she had fallen asleep waiting, for something or someone, the very warmth of the eternal sun, and now, it's her haunted consciousness that stirs her awake, compelling her to look for the first wan wisps of light. at the door, instead of the window, half-dazed and nonplussed, ginevra twists the doorknob, pulled forward by something akin to gravity.
"lancelot," his name like a thorn in her throat that no one amount of swallowed honey would dislodge, his name, a devotional novena she had sung in search of eternal salvation. no other sound had ever been so tender upon her tongue. two fingers, barren and denuded of any embellishments like branches of the old honey locust tree in the verdant yard, find their way up to ginevra's lips, contorting in the shape of a question mark, half elliptical. "i didn't assume i'd see you here." a mere breath away.
"perhaps i'm only half-awake, imagining things." because what are they if not a tale of loss? what if she had conjured him somewhere in the penetralia of her mind, ethereal and evocative, just to lose him again to dream-dashing daybreak?
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setting & notes. pre-event starter. located @ blacksmith's forge, somewhere around mid-day. feel free to assume connections if not plotted yet, or this can be their first interaction if you'd like.
Β Β Β it was as if hamlet had been in a daze, occupying his hands β and in turn, their mind β to the point of lucidity. at this point, his handicraft was an extension of themselves, acquainted with steel and titanium just as much as he with flesh and blood. blissful, willing ignorance, some would say. hamlet would agree. at this point, it was the only thing keeping him sane. alas, they could only build fortresses so high before the rot inevitably seeps in, buzzing around each ear with its chanted taunts.
Β Β Β a momentary pause, just a quick breather after hours of being slumped over a sander, refining a new blade that was for nothing but show. only the crunch of dry brush beneath a sole alerted hamlet to this newfound presence, eyes squinting to make out the silhouette against the setting sun. " you must forgive me for my ill preparedness. i don't recall anyone was supposed to pay the forge a visit today ... no one told me, at least. " they remarked, the other's presence welcomed regardless.
it's the metallic smell, of course, that takes her back, a vicious melange of things she wrongfully named as forgotten. modernity has divested ginevra of most of her old possessions and recollections which laid latent in the crevices of her keen mind, but here and now, she thinks of home, of once dazzlingΒ camelot, of fleeting hope and fatalistic pride.
"no, it is you who must forgive me. i come unannounced." a touch of shame sears her cheeks like tears, striking with precision right beneath her eyes and across the arch of her nose, violent in its bloom, no different than a field of volatile poppies in spring. "i was only hoping to see someone... but it doesn't truly matter anymore." guileless, her heavy gaze loses its sharpness, surrendering to distant memories. "that blade, however, looks remarkable."
time:Β halfway through the gala. Β Β location:Β the rooftop, theΒ woodlandΒ luxuryΒ apartments. status:Β for @fallensroses, @faeritells + 2 open spot(s).
"no thank you. if it were wine, perhaps i'd reconsider but..."Β ginvera pauses, tender as the night that enshrouds them like plush silk, locking eyes with briar before allowing a sigh to squeeze past her parted lips. something coils inside of her gut, each one of her thoughts chasing the other, redolent of an emerald snake eating its own tail. "i need something to help me fall asleep, coffee would make things much worse."Β
consumed by something she has yet to name or give proper place and room within the apsidal chapel guarded by her ivory ribcage, she pushes herself closer to the rooftop's edge, pliant pale fingers reaching for the wrought-iron balustrade. "i only came here for the fresh air. forgive me, it wasn't my intention to disturb you."Β
FULLΒ NAMEΒ Β Β .Β Β Β GINEVRA VILLAΒ Β Β ALSO KNOWN AS Β . Β QUEEN GUINEVERE TITLE(S)Β Β Β .Β HIGH QUEEN OF BRITAINΒ Β Β AGEΒ Β Β .Β CLOSE TO TWENTY-SEVEN IN APPERANCE , BUT IS HUNDREDS OF YEARS OLDΒ Β GENDERΒ +Β PRONOUNSΒ Β Β .Β Β CIS WOMAN + SHE / HERΒ Β BIRTHPLACEΒ .Β CAMELIARD Β DATE OF BIRTH . MAY 19TH, CENTURIES LATER ON THE SAME DAY ANNE BOLEYN LOST HER HEAD CURRENT OCCUPATION PERFORMER / BURLESQUE DANCER @ PUDDING & PIE LANGUAGES BRYTHONIC, ENGLISH, FRENCH
Β².
a daughter first, then a princess, always a queen and always condemned. fair guinevere, salt upon their lips, it is dishonor that she brings. why hast thou been so cruel to your good lord father, your benevolent and well-loved king, and the people who worshipped the ground beneath your feet?
the misdeeds of one woman echo through generations, told over and over again, numbing lashing tongues with each retelling of her cardinal sins βΈ» they should've tied her to a stake and allowed the flames to have her. what a shame to let the realm crumble beneath the weight of one stray, unfaithful heart.
they'll never say how she loved, the knights, and the realm, and all her people. when she sat at the round table, it was not just arthur they had listened to, but her as well. appointed as the fair mother, the fey queen, the good lady judge, it was her they had beseeched for mercy, a fair trial, and last redemption. they never did give her the same in return βΈ» offering instead either a noose or fire.
so between her body and camelot βΈ» she chose to see only one in flames. for centuries to come she's reduced only to that βΈ» her body. denuded of her name and her gold, but never her jewels, she shines upon a stage, swathed in silk, camelot's last fallen star.
α΅α΅Λ’β±αΆΛ’. once a daughter of king leodegrance, guin at times struggled with the notion of being the queen od camelot and by proximity arthur's wife. as an incredibly politically savvy individual, guinevere had been tasked with running camelot's judicial system, and was also greatly revered by the knights of the round the table. i'd like to believe that she had managed to inspire them in more ways than one, and greatly wished and fought for camelot's prosperity up until a certain point. after all, all rulers are eventually damned no matter how fair and justifiable their actions are. year after year, she had amassed certain dislike from the lesser nobles ( under the influence of mordrer or someone else ) who wished to witness her fall her grace. evidently, they played a role in her affair being exposed.
despite being generous and gracious, especially to those less fortunate, and anyone who had the fortune of running into her, guinevere also had a propensity for splendid selfishness, a selfishness of course that took on the form of desire. upon her affair being discovered, she was condemned to be executed, but since the fall of camelot is yet to be plotted, i'll leave this part ambiguous and note that she did not face her chargers. she was, however, aware of the potential destruction, but did nothing to prevent it.
for the most part, she reverently tries to forget and be oblivious to the past, wanting instead to escape it, even though she wishes she could attone for her sins. nonetheless, ginevra villa or queen guinevere remains a divisive figure in almost every way. to those fond of places such as pudding & pie, she's best known as an entertainer, though just how far that entertainment goes is disputable. in every life, or rather rendition, there are many arms and hands reaching out in reverence, only for different reasons. her performances are known to be extravagant and a show of its own, with additional lights, heady perfume, and gleaming glitter. during every performance, however, ginevra wears crystals about her head arranged in a circle, almost like a diadem, which is a silent nod to the crown she had once worn.
described by some as stubborn and attention-seeking, either out of jealousy, fear or even indifference, those closest to her know that there's something deeper under the vain and glimmering surface, a notion that is starkly confirmed by her willingness to privately play the role of a nurse for anyone who cannot or does not want to seek professional medics. it's an old habit, of course, as once upon a time, she had done the same for her king and realm.
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Why Get Angry at Helen?
Genesis (3:13) // Eve, Anna Lea Merritt // Agamemnon, Aeschylus (tr. by Anne Carson) // The Tale's Worth Telling: A Thematic Comparison of Homer's Iliad and Malory's Morte D'Arthur (x) // Love's Shadow, Frederick Sandys // Guinevere, Lord Alfred Tennyson // The Winter King, Bernard Cornwell // Helen of Troy, Frederick Sandys // Guenevere, Sara Teasdale // The Faerie Queene, Edmund Spenser // La Belle Dame Sans Merci, FrankΒ Dicksee // Pandora's Jar: Women in the Greek Myths, Natalie Haynes // Psyche Opening The Golden Box, John William Waterhouse