#( 𝐂𝐇𝐋𝐎𝐄 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐋 ) * ― intro.
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𝐂𝐇𝐋𝐎𝐄 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐋
― you are terrifying & strange & beautiful ; something NOT EVERYONE knows how to love.
sophie skelton, cis woman, she/her, twenty-nine — dear all nations, CHLOÉ FRISEAL has crossed the city borders to edinburgh to the sound of MIRRORBALL by TAYLOR SWIFT. the princess of scotland is known to be in favor of making peace. she reminds me of a pretty smile that covers unsavory words & the kind of confidence that drives stuffy ladies maids crazy however did you know that she has a secret identity which she uses to travel & see the world ?
character inspirations: benedict bridgerton ( bridgerton series ) ; natasha romanov ( marvel comics ) ; ella ( enchanted ) ; diana prince ( dc comics ) ; & elizabeth swann ( pirates of the caribbean )
about / tl;dr :
chloé grew up knowing the title of queen would never be hers, unless a lot of very unfortunate things happened. as such, she never quite cared to "act like a lady." of course, she cared what her parents thought of her, and she'll usually still act respectful in front of them, but that won't stop her from seeing the world. after the passing of her mother , the scottish king arranged chloé’s betrothal to the eldest son of clan eskilsen, she thinks he is the literal worst & is inwardly kicking and screaming about it . outwardly , she is the picture of a happy girl in love .
biography :
TW: mentions abuse & parental death
you are never the picture of a proper princess . you look the part , of course , that much is very clear . with fiery red hair and delicate features , you are easily recognizable as a princess of the braveheart country .
you succeed two older brothers , both already have very clear places in this world : lachlan is the oldest , the heir . then , there’s your second oldest brother , a ‘ plan b ’ if something were to happen to lachlan . and then , there is you . for three years , you are the youngest . you were too young to remember that . finally , there is william , the very image of the baby of a family . you are not the oldest , not the youngest . you are not the most well behaved or the most rebellious . you are not the smartest or the most charming . the only thing you are extraordinary at is being extra ordinary . you are wedged in the middle of your family , in the middle of everything .
and for a while , this is a good thing . you can slip through the cracks , your father has less of an iron grip on you , and you can follow your mother around as you please . your mother is your favorite person in the entire world . she is singularly kind , beautiful , and opinionated . other women aren’t like that . she is�� your biggest inspiration in this life , and if you were ever a queen , you would want to be just like her .
( one night , when you are around six , she holds your face in her hands , tears on your cheeks , you’ve never felt this sad before – scolded by your father for tearing up your skirts & trying to play with your brothers . stupid girl , he had called you . over & over & over again , stupid girl , stupid girl , stupid girl . there’s only one way you can think to describe this feeling to her : “ mama , it hurts everywhere “ she gives you a soft smile , like there is so much she wants to tell you about your father , and wipes a bundle of fresh tears away with her thumb “ you have done nothing wrong my angel . nothing at all . ” if your father is a dark storm cloud , your mother is a warm light . you think, if your mother were in charge, things would be much better . )
you’ve never had any desire to be queen , no desire for power , only a desire for good . to be a good person , be a good princess , be a good daughter . you place the rebellion in a box and only take it out when it’s time to be someone else . the very act of being someone else is an act of rebellion , however , and in your heart you know you shouldn’t be sneaking out . that you shouldn’t want to experience everything you have . but it’s fun , isn’t it ? it’s so fun being free .
it starts when you are sixteen , and it’s just a quick trip into town . for just one day , you want to be normal . one day turns into another & another & another & it repeats itself until one night , your mother finds you on your way back in . she doesn’t say anything . nods her head , and closes your door . you know she will not be upset , you know she will not tell your father .
your mother leaves you a letter , before she goes . you don’t know if she left your siblings one , you don’t ask . you keep yours close to your chest , it’s a secret between the two of you . she tells you to be kind , be loving , be trusting . trust yourself , she writes , trust yourself above anyone else . you know what is best , dear girl . she finishes the letter, i love you, fly free.
your father seals your fate with a sip of viking ale and a smile . were you really so insignificant to him ? were you really so replaceable ? so inconsequential that he could ship you to a different country , only to see you when you’re allowed to come back ? is it really that easy ?
you feel something for your future husband , among those feelings are : contempt , anger , resentment . you’ve never felt this kind of vexation before , it fills you from the top down . you find him singularly brutish & cruel . in all your years dreaming of prince charming , you had never pictured him a viking warrior , a killer .
your engagement is the nail in the coffin -- it means your mother is truly gone . you can sense that your brothers are plotting . you don’t ask questions . you’ve never wanted to run away more .
you will not be free for much longer .
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