Exalted Queen

I’ve talked about doing this for a little while, but I’m doing it for reals now! I’m moving all my FE muses over to a multimuse!  I think that doing this will enable me to spend more time with ALL of my muses. I won’t have to constantly be logging in and out of different accounts, and I can give the muses on my sideblogs proper attention. 

All relationships, headcanons, and RPs will be transferred over as well, so don’t worry! If you have an RP going with me already, I plan to continue it. Nothing is getting deleted, all of my muse activity will just be going on over at . . .

@tomestobetold

Taking a sip of his tea, Frederick delayed his respone, thinking. At least it had cooled enough to allow him a good few seconds. “Your grace, I care very little for material goods, and there is no station I would rather have than serving you and your siblings.”

Oh, enough playing around. There was keeping a secret, and then there was deliberate deceit. He’d already peeked the exalt’s curiosity too far for any subversion to not become the latter. “…She’s someone I’ve been in love with for almost as far as I can remember.” And that narrowed down the potential by a fair bit, given Emmeryn must know that he had very few friends around their age as children.

“She has an unparalleled heart, even if she comes to question herself from time to time… And my own seems to stop every time I see her smile. It’s no wonder I can’t refuse an invitation to sit and have tea with her, as I’ve already mentioned.”

Something bubbled up inside: longing. A desire for reciprocation, should she understand what he was getting at. But life didn’t always go as wished, and that was a risk he needed to accept. “If you still don’t know who I’m talking about, I will not burden you with a name. If you wish it, then this conversation never took place… Perhaps I should go?”

As he began to speak, Emmeryn felt that crack widen in her chest. The cold sorrow grew frigid. He loved her, this mystery woman, and suddenly realizing that made Emmeryn feel all the more alone. She had never expressed feelings towards Frederick, but that did not mean she had not felt them. She had just... never allowed herself to indulge in them. She couldn’t burden him with herself--

“It’s Lady Phila, isn’t it?” Emmeryn asked quietly as Frederick took a sip of his tea. “I do not blame you, Lady Phila is very n--”

But he began to speak again, interrupting her thoughts as he elaborated. Questions herself, unparalleled heart, invitations for tea...

Emmeryn glanced down for a moment, eyes flickering to the cup she had not touched for several minutes now, as she had practically forgotten it existed once Frederick spoke of the heart.

But even she, who often chose to blind herself to positive reinforcements, couldn’t miss that. He had accepted her offer, unable to deny her, and it occurred to Emmeryn that calling her Eevy didn’t just mean something to her. It must mean something to him as well.

“I.. Is...” she looked back to him, her cheeks dusting with flush. Her cracked heart began to beat too fast in her chest.

“As of when have I been one to decline such an offer?” On the one hand, having already prepared a pot to brew meant that they were not to be interrupted. However, it did also leave little room for Emmeryn to forget the conversation at hand.

With the utmost care, the knight poured the tea into two cups before taking his seat. “What if I were to tell you that what I desire was the heart of a woman we both know very well?” He cleared his throat. “Er, not literally of course. But are you truly asking to know of such a thing? My, I never knew you to enjoy such gossip, your grace.” He was joking, naturally.

The heart of a woman... Frederick had eyes for someone?

Immediately, Emmeryn’s stomach filled up with a cold sadness. He was in love, she presumed, with a very lucky young woman. One that Emmeryn, apparently, knew very well. It was shameful of her to suddenly feel so jealous. 

She tried not to let it show on her face, but there were cracks of heartbreak beginning to climb through her chest.

“Oh, Sir Frederick, you’re right, I’m sorry!” Emmeryn apologized, doing her best not to falter. “I thought you wanted a change in station, perhaps, or something more akin to the material. I did not mean to pry, but... you have feelings for a young woman?”

Saying it made the cracks spread.

With a soft chuckle and smile, the knight began to play off his admittance. “I don’t believe I should be burdening you with such a thing, Eevy.” Not when she was the very thing so close yet forever seemingly out of reach. “Now, would you like me to poor you some more tea?”

Emmeryn smiled, a slight bashful tilt in her expression. “Yes, I’d love some more tea... will you sit and enjoy some with me?” she offered.

Even as Frederick deflected, not wanting to burden her, Emmeryn’s heart skipped. It did every time he called her that. A secret nickname that only Frederick would recognize by now.

In the quiet of late afternoon, his words were heavy. Quiet. Barely spoken, but admitted nonetheless. Emmeryn felt her heart clench, for she, too, understood that impossible wanting. 

Emmeryn glanced down, one hand rising to touch her clavicle, as if she could comfort her own heart with the gesture. The late sun made amber light in her office. It made her own hair look like honey, and made Frederick seem to shine in his uniform. 

     Emmeryn’s eager expression is familiar, though one she’d rarely worn before. She’d been too caught up in the needs of her country to do much for herself, and could rarely show her own excitement for the little things in life that Phila knew had kept her going. 

     “In that case…I’ll do my best to recall everything I can,” Phila agreed. “It was…I believe the summer after Pri–Exalt Chrom turned twelve. Princess Lissa and he insisted that you take a break from your work. Things had begun to calm down, finally, but you still had barely enough time to see them off to bed and at mealtimes, and I believe your younger siblings had finally had enough of that. So Sir Frederick and I helped to clear your schedule for an afternoon, and he organized a picnic to be made by the cooks, although I recall Lady Lissa insisting that she add something of her own to the mix. We all spent a lovely afternoon in the gardens…” She trails off, wondering if it would be too forward of her to mention how Emmeryn had been more girl than exalt, in that moment, and had rested her head into the crook of Phila’s shoulder as they watched over her younger siblings before they had pulled Emmeryn into a game. 

     “As for my pegasus…yes, you did, once. And only once.” Phila’s forced to stifle her laughter as she recalls it. “You were so curious–how could I refuse such a request? So up we went on Harold, but you were terribly frightened by the height…You were whiter than your dress by the time we landed.” She sobers at the thought.

      “That’s why…I’ve always wished to apologize to you, Your Grace. When Gangrel had you high up on Grima’s bones that day…I was helpless to bring you back down safely. I cannot imagine how frightened you must have been…and yet…”       

For a moment, Emmeryn was smiling, imagining that picnic and how pleasant it must have been. Just her, her little siblings, Frederick, and Phila--

But her expression halted, falling into a pale, neutral look. Something that had become a sick combination of surprise, realization, and a touch of memory. She had always been afraid of heights. Emmeryn assumed that was a new fear, for she could recall sometimes getting dizzy when she looked down the tops of high staircases, or the split moments of panic when she stumbled and didn’t know if she would fall over.

After Chrom had told her about how she’d been hurt, Emmeryn just assumed that she had developed that fear because of her... her incident.

“I... I was always afraid of heights?” Emmeryn’s voice came quietly, small pieces beginning to line up in her head. Her hand trembled in her lap, and a small flash came across her eyes. Of Phila reaching out, and shouting something that Emmeryn couldn’t hear. 

She gulped, a cold sweat beginning to glisten on her brow.

bold what applies to your muse and repost.

THE STEADFAST TIN SOLDIER: paper dolls. rain against a windowpane. fish for supper. silent communications through eye contact. a tiny tin heart. cobbled streets. deep rivers. open fireplaces. well-loved toys.

THUMBELINA: water lilies and lily pads. red and yellow tulips. sun reflecting against water. iridescent beetles. singing beautiful songs. swallows. butterfly wings. dresses made from flowers.dark tunnels. stories about summer.

LITTLE MATCH GIRL: bitterly cold winds. sound of a match striking. falling stars. the most beautiful dream. tiny flickering flames. fat snowflakes. the feeling on New Year’s Eve. ignored by all but one.

THE SNOW QUEEN: shattered mirrors. early morning sled rides. rose bushes. crows. dancing shadows. robbers and thieves. sleeping with a knife. reindeer. ice skates. tears of joy. northern lights.

THE LITTLE MERMAID: strings of pearls. warm, soft sand. church bells. lost voice. dripping wet hair. fireworks. thunder storms.