i m m u t a b l e ;

She had found a quaint little coffee shop with windows allowing a perfect view of the mountains- ever since setting eyes on them, Celeste had been itching to be on them, to see the world from above. “Do you know if Genovian snow is as good as they say?” She questioned.

@genoviastarters​

Arthur’s eyes flicked out towards where Celeste’s were anchored before they drew back to her. “Depends on what they say of it. And if you enjoy it. Have you ever been? To Genovia.”

@rellinquish​ // since their last heated conversation, rhys had made sure to avoid his brother at all costs, but it seemed like his luck had finally run out. he was far too drunk to care that arthur was even there, catching himself swaying back and forth as though his body were protesting his presence too. he laughed to himself, taking another swig of his drink before catching the other’s glance and swiftly looking away again. the last thing he needed was a lecture or mock concern coming from the crown favorite. it wasn’t as though he hadn’t seen him in this exact state millions of times before either. stumbling slightly, he dropped his glass and managed to spill his drink on the floor. “fuck, that was the good stuff too.” he muttered before crouching down himself to pick up the pieces.

arthur was quite practiced in avoidance by now, so it rather said something that he was within eyesight of rhys at all. not that either of them were going to acknowledge it – on the contrary, arthur was perfectly happy to linger in his brother’s periphery until it grew to be too much and one of them made their departure, or broke something. it seemed like it was shaping to be that kind of night. 

@rellinquish​ // “no, come on, i promise i can lift you. don’t you trust me?” alec shouted across the rink to justice, gesturing for her to come closer as he skated around the ice delicately. coming to a stop as he directly faced her, he let a breath out while raising an eyebrow. so, maybe, he didn’t have the utmost confidence that he wouldn’t drop her, but it was worth it. besides, he wouldn’t really know until he tried. “i’ve got muscles for days, i got this!”

justice spun lazy circles around alec, coming in closer with each turn until she came to a stop before him – okay, with a little extra twirl. fucking sue her. she grinned at him as she rolled her shoulders back and stretched out. 

“you know if you drop me piper will track you down and kill you herself.” it wasn’t strictly a no. “do you want to put blood on a single mum’s hands?”

@rellinquish​

remy for justice.

“okay babes, i think we need to figure out what we’re doing this weekend. i vote drinking, but i’m flexible on where we do it. there’s that dive-ish bar down in the village or we could chill at the cabin.” he stretches out in his seat. “also, training fucking sucks when there’s just a few of the curling team here. major let down.”

justice takes the opportunity to throw her legs over remy’s lap, stretched out across the couch as she is. “i told you to bribe them out here.” she nudges his thigh with her heel and swallows the rest of her comments about training as it pertains to curling.

“drinking is fine, have you made any friends with their royal douchebags? i want to raid the drinks carts in the palace again, that was fun.”

rellinquish‌:

arthur flushed – a rare, strange reaction, though perhaps not so strange or rare with vivi. she had the habit of coaxing these sweet, soft, dangerous things out of him like nightshade under a full moon’s bright shimmer. he wondered if she knew that, the way his chest cracked open to her – only for her – a peculiar little biometric he never knew he had before her, and likely wouldn’t have after. rather, he made quite sure of it. 

but now – now vivi was offering him a choice. go. stay. reach out. draw back. climb up. double down. shouldn’t she know better? arthur spent his whole life having decisions handed to him, neat on card stock on a silver platter. choices landed bitter in his mouth and festered there until he spat them right back out. and yet – wasn’t this the silver platter? it was tarnished, yes, dented, perhaps, too, but – you’ve never really lost me. a little scrubbing up and it would shine again. 

the easy smile arthur knew best around vivi ghosted across him, just for a moment.

“ i never understood why you liked these types of studies. you liked my father’s old one, too, the horrible, dark thing it was. ” he wrinkled his nose. that old levity was there, dusty and dormant and buried deep as it was. “ must be you strange oxford types. ” he stood, began to hold out his hand, and hesitated. “ i’ve been told they’re preparing for a festival in town. about bloody pears. fancy a walk? as friends do. ”

“ it’s where i hibernate, ” aveline replied with a small, soft laugh, a smile playing at the edges of her lips. “ we’ve all got to have our cozy spaces where no one can find us somewhere. ” there was something to be said, then, about how arthur knew where to find her. how, on some level, he still knew her. winter may have not been commonly the season for new beginnings — no, those were blessed by spring and its blooming flowers —, but there were exceptions to every rule. they could start again like this: with threads of nostalgia unknotted and sewn into something new.

as friends do. well, that would work. it would have to work. what else was she expecting? her eyes went to his hand briefly before she stood after him, straightening her sweater out and tucking her kindle back in her bag. “ their pears are really good. you have to admit that, even if they’ve managed to put them in practically everything. but yeah, a walk sounds nice. i’d like that. ”

“ okay. okay. ” aveline took a deep breath, as if re-orienting herself. “ it’s fine, to be scared. what matters is that you’re trying. it means a lot. i’d like that, too, for you to change. not just for me, but for yourself, you know? i don’t know what’s going on, but — ” she shrugged, leaving it to him to piece the rest together. you’re not okay. you weren’t okay when you left, and you’re not okay now. 

“ no, no! i wasn’t expecting that. ” she shook her head. “ we can just take it one day at a time. see where this goes. i’ve already told you what i wanted, so. ” her denial was likely a bit more vehement than she intended. ask her half a year ago, and she would’ve been gutted by such an admission. in the quiet at 5 am, when she’d abandoned her heels in the corner of a hotel room and scrolled hazily through her phone with a stranger lying next to her in the sheets, there was nothing she wanted more than for arthur to be the one who carried her up there. now, the path forward seemed unclear.

“ and — well, you’ve never really lost me, despite what you think. we might not be together anymore, and it might not ever be the same, but i do still care about you. can’t help that. ” she fiddled with the yarn of her sweater.  “ what now? i’ve got the whole day free. we can get out of here. it’s stuffy, anyway. up to you — you can stay or you can go. ”

arthur flushed – a rare, strange reaction, though perhaps not so strange or rare with vivi. she had the habit of coaxing these sweet, soft, dangerous things out of him like nightshade under a full moon’s bright shimmer. he wondered if she knew that, the way his chest cracked open to her – only for her – a peculiar little biometric he never knew he had before her, and likely wouldn’t have after. rather, he made quite sure of it. 

but now – now vivi was offering him a choice. go. stay. reach out. draw back. climb up. double down. shouldn’t she know better? arthur spent his whole life having decisions handed to him, neat on card stock on a silver platter. choices landed bitter in his mouth and festered there until he spat them right back out. and yet – wasn’t this the silver platter? it was tarnished, yes, dented, perhaps, too, but – you’ve never really lost me. a little scrubbing up and it would shine again. 

the easy smile arthur knew best around vivi ghosted across him, just for a moment.

“ maybe. ” faye taps her fingers on the table. “ it can be a cultural thing or something. getting to know genovia. you could even add a dinner reservation in there — almost sounds like a date, but wine and dine works just as well for a date and a business deal, doesn’t it? ”

maybe it was the wrong thing to say, but truly gabe hadn’t had a clue what to say in that moment. he didn’t wish the other ill, and didn’t wish to make the other feel as though he needed to tell gabe. it wasn’t his business, and gabe enjoyed staying in his lane. 

gabe laughed, nodding. he could understand that to a point. he thought a moment, trying to gather his thoughts on the matter. he turned to the prince, shaking his head. “is it too cliche to say everything is going alright in my life? thanks to your cousin.”

in a rare, genuine moment, arthur faces gabe with the ghost of a smile. it’s strange, the dissonance between them, the lives they lead now – and the lives they could have led. perhaps it is that wistful, pensive time of night, that has arthur thinking of this. regardless, he turns to press his elbows heavy into the old wood of the balcony.

she watches as he takes a seat, folding the newspaper up to be handed off to a servant.  ‘ would you like a cup ? ’  she offers, gesturing to the tea set in between them,  ‘ it’s assam and i have some milk and sugar here as well. ’

‘ oh ? well, i must say i’m flattered, your highness. ’

he watches her back with bright, eager eyes and an open posture against the back of the chair. she is – beautiful, yes, but he knew that coming in. alert, perhaps, more so than he’d given her credit for, and certainly to the point. arthur is nodding before she’s finished speaking.

‘ i know, ’  she takes stock of the patrons around them in the ski resort’s lobby,  ‘ shouldn’t these people be on the slopes ? isn’t that why they’re here in the first place ? ’  it’s even a lovely day outside, in her opinion.  ‘ yes it is, ’  she replies.  ‘ really ? well a friend of fraser’s must be a good time. dafne’s a lovely name. ’

she sighs. “yeah. and i should check in with desmond and fionn and see how they feel. they’re probably drinking, knowing them.”

oliver went into justice’s arms willingly, cooing jus jus as he pawed at the collar of her sweater. piper leaned back and watched the happy scene. “you weren’t landing properly, which was a given. but with some training you can get it. and i don’t care if you swear, he’s fucking one not five.”

oliver felt awkward and loose in her arms, as if any second he would twist wrong and tumble completely out. it was irrational, this fear; justice’s older sister had kids, and she’d seen no problem in holding them for briefer periods of time. maybe she wanted to impress piper, or something – no, surely not that. justice didn’t give a shit.

“i don’t believe i’m capable of sarcasm considering everything in my body right now.” he’s sinking lower into his seat, only moving his eyes to look at his cousin. everything seems to be swaying and drifting on it’s own and he can’t remember totally if arthur’s face actually looked like that, or if that was everything he ingested this evening.

“you’re going to have to remind me what you’re referencing. there were a number of things that happened that night, and some of them go completely over my head.” some of them, he was just avoiding altogether.

arthur’s gaze flicks over fraser from across the top of his glass. he’s certainly looked better, but he’s most certainly also looked worse. arthur knocks back the rest of his generous glass and pours himself another. it seems he has more catching up to do than he anticipated.