#imke14

Imke, light of my life, always lovely to hear from you

is this the horse equivalent of a mullet?

Oohh which event??

not a thousand! I love getting them, they make my day <3

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It seems that when I ran away from my past all my dignity, my faith, my pride got left back. And now I think it's time that I realize self pity's meaningless Though I'm 10 feet deep, I'll claw my way back out from in my grave

Hope you're having good weekend, nice and relaxed with good company

oh imke, you’ve come across my pet ship. I love Fjorester but widojest got me like [high pitched screech]. th eYEARNING. 

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Royalty AU

Jester loves throwing balls. The dancing and the lights and the dresses, and most importantly, the pastries. She gets to hear her momma sing. It would be more fun if she didn’t have to put up with stuffy aristocrats and young princes who are a little too obvious in their wants, but a few pranks and the laughter of a green eyed man puts most of them off.

She giggles as Lord Sharpe’s belt comes mysteriously undone in the middle of the dance floor while trying to dance with her momma. He stumbles away, trying to pull up his trousers, to the tittering of the crowd around him. Her mother gracefully sweeps the attention away as she asks a different gentleman to dance. 

“He’s here again,” the Traveler whispers in her hear. “The red-headed one. Are you sure we can’t tease him a little?”

Jester carefully doesn’t turn her head, but glances out of the corner of her eye and yes, there he is. “No,” Jester hears herself saying. “Not that kind of teasing.” 

The Traveler huffs. “Very well. Call me when something interesting happens, would you?” and vanishes in a swirl of green.

Caleb Widogast. Prince of Blumenthal.

He’s older than many of the other princes in attendance, a maturity and a quietness not found in those that have tried to catch her eye. He stands, clearly ill at ease and uncomfortable, but Jester must admit he cuts a very fine figure in his deep purple coat. He has red hair like the Traveler but it’s copper bright instead of dark red. He’s got eyes the same shade of clear blue as a Nicodranas sky. She’s seized by the sudden urge to paint him. 

He’s been at the last three of her parties, unobtrusive, mingling awkwardly with the few that approach him. They’ve spoken, briefly, before she’s inevitably drawn away. She wants to talk to him now, but she’s fetched to speak with some dignitaries from Xhorhas. 

They’re nice enough, even if one of them makes her feel small and stupid for not knowing things. Tears prick at the back of her eyes afterwards and she takes a moment to breathe in one of the hidden passages that pockmark her castle, tail twining around her ankle.

That’s when she hears his voice, his Zemnian accent unmistakable and exotic among the Nicodranian nobles. Jester gets to her feet and sneaks closer until she’s right against the wall, Caleb Widogast on the other side. She can peek through a crack in the stonework to spot a few other young royals. 

“I don’t see why it’s taken so long for the Queen to make an alliance, Jester is of eligible age.” The voice sounds bored. “She’ll be a spinster if they continue rejecting suits like this.”

“It would make a very advantageous match for Blumenthal,” another one says.

“The princess is not to be taken advantage of,” Caleb replies, the words sharp in a way she’s never heard from him before. Anger, she realizes after a moment. “She is not some bauble to be bartered with.”

“I wouldn’t know it from how you stare after her, Widogast, like you’re half in love with her already. You must admit, a fine bauble she makes. Sapphire of Nicodranas, indeed, though not as lovely as her mother.”

Jester is torn between blushing and indignation. It is known her momma is the most beautiful person on the planet, but this conversation is making her stomach feel sick. Still... Caleb? In love with her? Her heart beats a little harder against her ribs.

There’s the snap of a spark and the scent of burning.

“Fuck, Widogast! It was a joke, you crazy bastard.”

She peeks through to see a sliver of pink cheeks and blue eyes bright with fury, flames flickering along Caleb’s fingers. “You should be ashamed. I’ve had enough.” And he stalks out, leaving the terrified gaggle of royals, one significantly singed, without another word.

Jester moves away from the wall. She’s noticed Caleb watch her, but she didn’t realize others had noticed, too. She presses her hands to her face. Today wasn’t turning out at all how she expected.

By the time she makes her way back out among her guests, Jester’s composed herself, redone her hair, and sent a message to the Traveler about some new targets for pranks. She looks for Caleb and finally spots him in a distant corner, nursing a drink.

A very young princess, Kiri, approaches him. Jester watches as he sets the drink aside and dips down to one knee to speak with her, his face serious and as invested as with any adult. Jester finds herself walking over to them before she realizes. 

“This means we are friends,” she hears Caleb say in his soft, lilting accent.

“Friends?” Kiri looks up at him with large, impressionable eyes. 

Caleb smiles. Jester thinks it’s the first time she’s ever seen him smile. “Ja.”

Kiri quickly ferrets away whatever was exchanged between them as Jester approaches. “What are you two up to?” Jester asks.

“Nothing!” Kiri cries. “I am very sweet.”

Jester can’t help but be charmed by said sweetness. “Yes, you are.” She leans down. “If you ask Bluud very nicely he will show you where the best pastries are hidden.” 

Kiri gasps in delight and scampers off. Jester straightens and watches her go, only for an awkward clearing of a throat to remember where she was and who she was with.

“Prince Widogast,” she greets, hardly remembering to curtsy when he offers her a bow. Her tail flicks nervously.

“Princess Lavorre.” 

He seems so different now, held stiff and uncertain. Scrambling for something to say, she blurts, “Will you dance with me?” 

“Ah,” he hesitates, looking away. Jester’s face falls. Perhaps those boys were merely teasing Caleb and he didn’t- he didn’t actually like her. 

“It’s okay, you don’t have to,” she rushes to say. “It’s a difficult dance, not everyone knows it, you know,” she says, trying to spare him from coming up with an excuse. 

“Nein, nein, it’s just- I used to be quite good at it, but that was a long time ago.” He coughs a little. And Oh, he’s blushing again, ears going pink. “I am, ah, I am very out of practice.”

Jester offers out her hand, butterflies in her belly, and smiles. “Then we will start slow. Ja?” she asks, mimicking his speech.

“Ja,” he says and takes her hand.

ur welcome :Ↄ

we came so close in this scene and yet so far