#drabblessss

Btw, I think hope I can post the Sirius x reader drabble request by tmr too !! I’ve been working on it ☺️it’s not long but I hope it’s still nice ;)

 Now her brother was here, his tardis taking its place next to hers.  Then they were both gone.  Somehow he’d gotten her and her tardis away from this awful place.  Somehow he’d saved her.  Somehow, she knew, she’d owe him for the rest of her life.

Hm~? anyone?

She is the kingmaker, the kingtaker. The world thinks her weak and womanly, and her fool of a husband king dotes and kisses and adores, but she endures it because from his seed comes a kick, and from the kick comes a child. She is allowed to sit in on court, but she listens to far more than the words they say, because she is far more than a pretty ornament for the king’s silk-covered arm. She has a little king of her own now, and he will not be chasing doves and having tantrums for much longer. She is allowed to play games to entertain herself, but she uses them to become sharp of tongue and sharper of mind, honing her strategy. Her own king learns his letters and six other languages besides, and she teaches him in the ways of etiquette, the iron shield of words. She is allowed to speak to her subjects to give orders, but they give far more than they are given—knights and servants, groomsmen and dukes, she learns their ways and earns their loyalty. The current king has stopped doting on her; he prefers the company of wine and the conversation of court over her weak and womanly ways. Her own king plays at swords in the yards, and she sends for the finest swordsmen in the kingdom to teach him the language of blades, the language of tournaments. She is allowed to walk to streets to shop, but she learns of not dresses and trinkets but the cultures of her country and the whispers of others, the trade routes and deaths and allegiances forged in steel and silk. The current king smiles, and his lines are deep and his laugh is cut short by phlegm, but still he dines and rides, still he thinks her weak and womanly. But she is strong because is a woman, because she has built her own king from the womb up, first a seed then a kick then a child. Now when her husband falls—a heart attack, the physicians declare, though to be fair they have never seen the poisons of a distant golden land by the sea—now today, she raises a youth to the throne: her child, her prince, her king. She is the kingmaker, the kingtaker.