GLORIANA

                                            “YES.” HIS SMALL ANSWER IS CALM AND firm. And she might be correct in the assumption that it was a wrong choice. But one he must stick to with the advice of many                       he would deal with his guilt and worry later.

“I doubt they or the people will forgive me either. But at the time,” he sighed slowly, a pinch of his nose between index finger and thumb as the Prince struggled with his vexation. “It was the BEST choice that we could come to.” Albert’s tone had begun to rise, but after his pause of reflection it is back to normal                       the calm against Victoria’s storm.

❝  and  you  made  it  without  me!  ❞         how  could  he?     how  could  he?     hot  tears  of  frustration  gathered  as  she  pulled  at  the  fastenings,  slightly  beginning  to  loosen  her  bodice.     she  was  the  queen,  not  him,  not  her  prime  minister...  and  they  simply  stepped  around  her.

                                            “MY APOLOGIES, YOUR MAJESTY.” HE JESTS, WITH a duck of his head while he stifled laughter. The movement doesn’t hide the broad grin that shaped his handsome features perfectly. “Please continue.” His hands folded in his lap and his gaze faced forward                       he must stay STILL, for the desire to touch her and hold quiet intimate moments is always a bright craving.

             WHEN HE REVEALED TO HER WHAT HE WAS; WHO HE WAS AND WHOM HE SERVED, he knew there was a POSSIBILITY of this. She would ORDER his death and ruin his plans, but she was in the RIGHT to do so. Aaron could NEVER be with her - not in a ROMANTIC sense, but he wanted to remain HERE. Everything he’d done  was to make it so he could STAY - the cult would LIVE ON, but the Herald would be taking time for himself. He’d STEP DOWN from actively leading until the time was RIGHT.

              UNFORTUNATELY, FATE DEEMED IT THAT AARON WOULDN’T BE ABLE TO. It deemed it so he’d never have that PEACE he so craved. The words he said to her before ECHED in his  ears - the  words he said before his death were even WORSE. She should have been NOTHING to him - just a CHESS PIECE to move when to REMOVE when the time was right, but she was LONG PAST that.

                ❝ YOU SIGNED MY DEATH WARRANT AND YOU EXPECT ME TO DO NOTHING IN RETURN?  ❞ He wanted to SCREAM at the top of his lungs. sadly, he was still recovering, and  talking was painful enough - he didn’t want to push himself yet ❝ You expect me to go on like nothing happened? ❞ His hands ran through his hair. 

                  HIS HANDS RAN THROUGH HIS HAIR RIGHT BEFORE SLAMMING HIS HAND HARSHLY INTO A WALL. ❝ You expect me to believe this is all fine? That you didn’t willingly want me dead? ❞ He then pulled his hand back and slammed it again - this time harder than before. ❝ This close… this close and  would have had everything, but you just had to stop it - you just  couldn’t let the DERANGED CULTIST have a moment of peace. Tell me, did you ENJOY it when you issued the order? Did you enjoy seeing the one person who would have gave up EVERYTHING killed like a common criminal? ❞  

                   BY THAT POINT, HE WAS ANGRY - FAR MORE THAN BEFORE. His mind was REELING with the idea of ending it now. SEIZING the throne for HIMSELF and taking complete control of the GOVERNMENT, but that was long gone. It was no longer part of the plan and while seeing  her again WASN’T meant to happen, he only had one POSSIBLE option left; leaving her… forever.  ❝ Or did you ever find out what I did? That’s the real question here, isn’t it? Did you find out? ❞ 

still,  she  kept  her  back  to  him,  too  afraid  to  turn  about  and  face  his  anger,  tears  streaming  down  her  cheeks.     it  seemed  impossible  to  pull  her  fingers  from  the  desk,  her  shoulders  flinching  at  each  slam  of  his  hand  against  the  wall.     he  would  not  believe  a  word  she  said,  would  he?      how  could  he?     she  did  not  doubt  that  faced  with  the  same  from  anyone  else,  she  would  not.     was  that  not  what  had  caused  this  disaster?

what  would  he  decide  to  do  now?     her  life  was  in  his  hands  now...  why  would  he  preserve  it  when  she  failed  to  do  the  same  for  his?    taking  in  a  deep  breath,  she  wiped  the  tears  from  her  eyes  and  finally  turned  to  face  him.          ❝  i  would  not  dare  to  claim  all  is  well,  aaron.  ❞           even  now,  her  hands  wrapped  around  the  desk,  backed  up  against  it,  she  could  not  look  him  in  the  eye.          ❝  do  you  truly  think  i  watched  you  die?     that  i  wanted  you  to  die?  ❞           if  she  had  been  able  to  defy  the  rest  of  her  government  without  tearing  apart  her  country,  she  would  have.           ❝  i  would  have  commuted  your  sentence  if  i  could  have.  ❞       closing  her  eyes,  her  shoulders  slumped  forward  as  much  as  possible  in  her  corset.     it  was  all  so  inane,  sounded  so  weak.      that  was  all  she  was,  a  weak  puppet.

❝  they  found  out  nothing,  ❞    she  all  but  whispered.     nothing  would  convince  him,  would  it?     this  was  all  her  fault...  because  she  could  not  hold  back  her  anger,  could  not  be  stronger.         ❝  perhaps  it  is  for  the  best.     i  am  the  worst  ruler  this  country  could  have.  ❞

     Bare feet padded against the forest floor ,  twigs and branches breaking as she stumbled through the thick foliage .  There had to have been a better path ,  but the area was so old and unpopulated that any path which had been made was long overgrown .  The girl swayed as she drew to a halt ,  the animals skittering around her begging to be fed upon ,  but she refused .  She would still be a monster even if animals were her choice of prey – innocent beings that had never done anything to her .  In her travels ,  there had been talks of another just like her ,  one who was much ,  much older and was said to know of a way to bring humanity back to the damned creatures they were .  So ,  she set out to look for him ,  but when she’d find him it’d probably be too late ,  for she would need to feed soon and she would rather die than take another life . 

     She dared to push on ,  continuing her search since she was so close .  It was not long before she picked up a scent ,  perfume wafting through the air – she knew there was human not too far .  By instinct she followed the scent ,  quick and agile though her vision blurred and her head pounded .  She came upon a mansion ,  rundown but habitable ,  with a sprawling garden in which she saw a girl winding through with a small dog at her feet .  Teeth bared ,  eyes black ,  she lurched forward ,  hunger controlling her every move .  She had barely taken a step before a pang hit her in the gut and she had fallen to her knees with an audible screech of pain ,  darkness overcoming her in an instant .  @queenviictoria // STARTER CALL       

❝  come  here,  dash!    fetch,  dash!  ❞          much  like  the  action  after  which  her  pup  was  named,  victoria  dashed  about  the  garden,  plucking  a  stick  off  the  ground  and  tossing  it  with  all  her  strength.    it  delighted  her  deeply  to  see  her  spaniel  leap  about  with  such  glee.    here,  no  one  would  tell  her  to  slow  down,  do  not  trip,  do  not  lift  up  her  skits.      it  was  a  joy  beyond  which  she  could  not  have  imagined  even.     freedom.

❝       I HAVE A  TALENT ABOUT getting into bad situations. Sometimes out of sight, but most of the time out of mind.    ❞    With his family, that was the preferable sort of things. If he stayed out of their sight, they didn’t care, and out of mind was even better. Still, that didn’t mean he couldn’t have a little fun. ❝  i’m from…. around.   ❞ he could have been a bit more honest, but he figured this would do for now. 

❝  no,  no...  that  won’t  do!  ❞          now  she  crossed  her  arms  over  her  stomach,  beaming  up  at  the  stranger.     his  continual  withholding  of  information  only  intrigued  rather  than  put  her  off.     this  was  a  distraction  she  could  actually  enjoy.          ❝  around  could  mean  here,  London,  or  it  could  simply  mean  you  exist  on  this  planet.     you’re  being  ridiculous  now!  ❞

           @queenviictoria​   .   lord and saviour s.c.

now he does not belong here,    in fact tom would probably argue that both sides of the family   (  sybil’s family and his own )   would hit the roof if they knew where they were,  who they were staying with.      a man who was by his own definition a socialist did not belong in a fancy house, he certainly did not belong in the damn palace meeting the royal family.        the halls of oppression, …..   but he’d promised to be on his best behaviour,   not to go into a rant about oppression or ireland …. unless he was directly asked of course.       “ was very kind of you t’ invite us here. ”      he would admit that at least,      he knew that sybil had been threatened not to be received at court if they married,    he knew that technically because of his lack of status neither of them should be.     he didn’t care of course,  but he suspected that she might,  if not only because of the friends she might lose.

the  awkwardness  which  oozed  between  them  seemed  as  dense  as  a  tapioca  pudding,  but  she’s  determined  to  shatter  it,  if  only  for  sybil’s  sake.     hands  clasped  properly  against  her  dress-covered  corset,  the  queen  bestowed  him  with  a  soft  smile.     there’s  plenty  she  much  rather  avoid,  especially  as  she  knew  their  opinions  lay  so  very  differently.     among  many  other  things,  ireland  could  be  a  rather  explosive  topic.          ❝  of  course...  your  wife  is  one  of  my  dearest  and  oldest  friends.     i  would  be  very  amiss  if  i  did  not  invite  her  and  her  new  husband  to  court.  ❞          striding  toward  him,  she  tipped  her  head  toward  the  open  floor  length  windows,  inviting  him  silently  to  follow  her.     it  was  a  beautiful  day...  and  the  garden  was  a  far  more  private  place  for  the  ensuing  conversation.

He could see her worry and while he did think that she had needed a warning for stepping into a role where she would have no real protection that she might have been used to, perhaps he had been too blunt? He smiled though for what she gave as a sure statement, a soft little noise escaping in a half breath. “You will –not –tarnish the -Crown.” Her promise that she would not back out received a grateful nod regardless, words he perhaps needed to hear. “You will -do –fine.” He hummed and even smiled at her.

Sure his anger at Conroy would be given full attention later, but for now, the nervous yet brave niece before him did not need his anger but his comfort, at least that’s what he thought he saw. “There was a –young -sailor once, named Mr -Johnson.” He explained and picked his cigarette from the edge of the ashtray again. There were still so few that actually knew Albert was ‘Johnson’ in the First War. “–He was the -bottom of -his -class at Dartsmouth, only –getting into the -officer –Naval -collage because of -who he was. Even there –he slugged on through the -whole -experience until he -was assigned -to a ship. There, –he managed –to -prove all of the -tutors wrong and -excelled at -his -work -for when it –really mattered Mr -Johnson was mentioned in -despatches -for his -contribution –to the -biggest -naval -battle there -has ever -been.”

He smiled again to her softly and took a short drag on his cigarette while he regarded her, he would worry about her much like his father had he supposed, but it was something she should do and he was sure she would look back on as a good decision. “So, -I -do -hope that Miss Victoria -Edwards will -bare the -story of Mr -Johnson in mind if -she runs into –doubts of her –perfectly -capable -capabilities.” Partly a tease, but also some offer that he did think she could handle it. He still did not think it would be anything like easy, his few years at the mercy of boys his age and older were not at all easy, but if he could pull through, then Victoria certainly could.

his  assurance  she  would  not  harm  the  crown  by  her  attempt  at  service  brought  the  young  woman  great  relief,  even  visible  on  her  beforehand   worried   features.     thanks  to  conroy’s  constant  picking,  it  was  what  terrified  her  the  most,  letting  her  uncle  down,  giving  a  bad  example.     she  even  managed  a  wobbly  smile  to  meet  his  own.

her  brow  refurrowed  as  he  began  to  tell  a  story  about  some  midshipman  in  the  last  war.     clearly  confused,  she  still  listened  intently,  attempting  to  gather  his  intent.     perhaps  it  was  to  give  her  courage,  being  similarly  downtrodden  by  those  around  her  as  the  little  midshipman  was  by  his  studies.     but  then,  as  the  king  arrived  at  the  end  of  his  story,  he  connected  the  name  of  mr.  johnson  to  her  own  chosen  moniker  for  her  service  with  such  a  teasing  voice.     it  took  a  moment,  but  then  her  eyes  blew  wide  with  realization.          ❝  uncle,  were  you  mr.  johnson?  ❞          she’s  touched  that  he  would  compare  his  younger  self  to  her,  the  man  she  looked  up  to  more  than  any  other  in  the  world.

SEBASTIAN & V. 

plotted starter for @queenviictoria

“Morning, ma’am.” Sebastian greeted her with a sharp nod, hands behind his back ( to attention! )—but, when he lifted his head, his lip was twitching slightly, as if with an ironic smile. Morning. It was barely light out, and their breath misted—mingled—in the air in front of them. 

No stranger to the hour ( he’d been up since half past four, hanging out of the palace window, bare-chested, to sneak a smoke; watching the city as it gradually stirred itself into wakefulness ), he’d never been much of a fan of the cold. Even zipped into a lightweight jacket, hands stuffed into pockets and fingers brushing the handle of his firearm, he was stamping his feet, hoping they’d be off soon. “Are you ready to go?” 

the  early  spring  air  hit  victoria  like  a  smack  to  the  face  as  she  stepped  out  from  the  relatively  warm  palace,  the  chill  seeping  up  through  the  soles  of  her  running  shoes.     for  not  the  first  time,  she  mourned  her  life  choices  with  a  deep  sigh,  blinking  in  the  cloud  it  left,  as  she  trudged  toward  her  protection  officer.          ❝  morning...  many  thanks  for  leaving  off  the  ‘good’.  ❞