#7kpp ria

[fyeah7kpp]

Yuletide 2024 Nominations!

Hello, my dears!

It's the time of year again to nominate the 7KPP characters for Yuletide! For those who are unfamiliar, Yuletide is a yearly fanfiction gift exchange for small fandoms (fewer than 1000 works in English) on AO3, where the fandoms and characters that can be requested are nominated by users. You can find more information about it on the AO3 collection or on their Dreamwidth.

Nominations are currently open, for both fandoms and for characters. 7KPP will definitely be nominated but individual characters to request will also need to be nominated, so we're putting together a list to keep track of which characters have already been nominated, and who we have yet to nominate!

Note that you do not have to participate in the gift exchange itself to nominate, though you do have to have an AO3 account! You also do not have to nominate to participate, so if you're interested in the future, please feel free to hop in and join the fun!

Nominations are open through September 20 at 9 am UTC!

Please reply/reblog this post/message me to let me know who you are nominating and I will update the post accordingly so we can keep as careful track as we can! Also, people who don't have AO3 accounts who want to suggest additional characters to add to the list who I may have forgotten are welcome to!

Much love to everyone, and I'm sorry for the long absence! We will hopefully get an announcement about 7KPP Week out soon!

-Mod Tina

Information about current nomination statuses under the cut!

Updated as of 9/11/24.

Spoken For Characters: Jiyel Scholar, Jasper, Matchmaker, Sayra, Falon, Jaslen, Yvette, Woodly, Gisette, Avalie, Ria, Rebel MC, Widow MC, Princess MC, Court Lady MC, Countess MC, Clarmont, Lisle, Emmett, Zarad, Jarrod, Kade, Blain, Mrs. White

To be Nominated Characters: Pirate MC, Anaele, Penelope, Hamin, Cordelia, Lyon, Katyia, Sterlyn, Aamir, Constance, Leala, Adalric, Imogen, Estelle, Greer, Jorges, Lord Chancellor Torren Han-Lyle (Arland ambassador), Viscount Herschel (Wellin ambassador), Marchioness Iris Patricia Valentine (Revaire ambassador), Lady Nasira (Corval ambassador), Captain Nike (Hise ambassador), Minister Cato (Jiyel ambassador), Speaker Andel (Skalt ambassador)

[pizzafishandchips]

5. "It's a new day. Let's go"

Fandom - Seven Kingdoms: The Princess Problem/7KPP (fanfic) Content warnings - none Other notes - contains spoilers for weeks 3 + 4 in the game

Octavia has learned the value in keeping notes.

Her desk at home is constantly hidden under stacks of organized parchment, and even her walls look like glorified noticeboards with how many sheets she has pinned up on them.

In this, she’s almost comforted by how little difference her experience at the summit has been compared to home.

Her fingers are stained black by ink, the oil lamp next to her burning a low, tired glow that matches her mood as she works hunched over her desk well into the late hour. Her eyes are heavy, her hair has long become a messy nest sitting against her head, and she’s surrounded by crumpled balls of parchment she’s cast aside. It isn’t until she hears a creak coming from outside her door, likely a servant passing by as they make the rounds, that she’s roused from her concentrated state.

Bleary eyed, Octavia blinks hard as she leans back, glaring at the scribbled notes before her. The preceding week leading up to her second encounter with the matchmaker seems like a lifetime ago; she would have never been able to get away staying up so late like this, for fear of what it could do to her physical appearance should she be too consistently exhausted throughout the week.

But the time for appearances has passed. People are now dead, and she’s been given the woeful task of deciding the fate of a poor girl caught in the crossfire.

Octavia glances at the stack of books sitting next to her mess. On top of all of that, there’s the matter of her little poison problem. If there were indeed higher powers out there, she’s sure she’s become the butt of some cosmic joke on their part.

There’s always something else.

She shakes her head. If she wishes to survive the week, she’s learned that she’ll just have to roll with the punches this strange place has thrown at her. With a grunt, she painstakingly moves from the stiff chair into her soft welcoming bed, knowing that it will all just begin again tomorrow.

And she’s right. The following days are a whirlwind of scrupulous investigation and cunning social calls as Octavia gathers as much information as she can. The stacks of paper on her desk grow with each passing night as she slowly pieces together a fuller picture. But it feels that with each piece added on, a little bit of her sanity goes with it. She pities Ria as the week drags on; she doesn’t even bother looking in the mirror these days, and she can only imagine the mess her maid has to deal with every morning.

Things come to a head late in the week, as the trial looms, and after so many restless nights, she snaps at Jasper over something innocuous. Like always, her butler’s expression betrays little, the only indication that he even registers her actions is to excuse himself quickly from the room. It isn’t until he’s gone that Octavia realizes what she’s done, and she mentally berates herself for it for the rest of the night. Jasper has been one of if not her staunchest supporter, no matter how quiet he normally is about it. It’s hardly fair to take out her stress on him.

Too late into the evening to call him back, she does the one thing she knows how: throw herself back into her work. She has to make it all worth it, the sleepless nights, the horrible moods, the exhaustion. She’s always preferred being a woman of action, as they speak louder than words, and this is the one way she knows she can make it up to him.

She reviews and revises her notes, the stack of papers nearly complete as she’s almost finished piecing together the puzzle that is Lord Adalric’s murder. That night, Octavia doesn’t even make it to bed, drifting off with her head slumped against the surface of her desk.

When morning comes, she’s awoken by the sound of clinking as something is put down next to her. When she looks up, she sees the ever calm visage of her butler, his gaze seeming a little softer than usual.

“Oh, um, good morning, Jasper,” she croaks, embarrassed that he’s found her in this state. The tea he’s set down is strong, stronger than usual, that much she can tell from the scent alone. Not knowing what to say initially, she silently drinks in an effort to wake herself up as he sets out the rest of her breakfast.

Once she’s a little more clearheaded, Octavia hesitantly says, “Jasper, I… I want to apologize for my behavior last night.”

“No need, my lady. I understand you’re under quite a bit of pressure,” he dismisses, as if she had made a passing comment of the weather. There’s a muted sympathy and kindness there, however, and it frustrates her when she knows she doesn’t deserve it at this moment.

“No, please. It doesn’t excuse the way I snapped at you. You didn’t deserve that, considering you’re hardly the source of my frustrations.” She rubs her face with her hands. “I’m sorry. But I’m almost done, I’ve almost figured it out.” She gingerly pats the sheets of paper next to her. “I’ve troubled you all quite a bit already but I promise it will be worth it. If nothing else, you can count on me for that. I’m just… It’s not an excuse but I’m just so tired. And it seems as though there’s always something new to add on top of everything.”

He says nothing at first, solemn even when he just about forces food into her hands in a bid for her to eat. After a while, he replies with a smile, as well as a surprisingly comforting hand on her shoulder.

“I believe you, Lady Octavia. I know better than perhaps anyone else how much has been put on your shoulders. For now… It’s a new day, so come, and let go of the little mistakes of the day before.”

There’s a bit of solace to be found in his words, and Octavia chooses to heed them, as he’s never led her astray before. Tired, but resolute, she renews her resolve, ready to face the challenges ahead.

[awaylaughing]

Glance, motion, and formal for Pippa? :D

Thank you! For Pippa, my lovely 7KPP Corval Lady. This got long, because Pippa and clothing is a Thing haha.

glance: At first glance, what stands out most about your OC’s appearance? What’s their distinguishing feature?

In order, it's; Hair, short, very smiley.

The hair is down to a combination of factors, the main one being the style in Corval at the moment is long, loose hair across the genders. Pippa has a lot of hair as a result, and it's very curly and a bright strawberry blonde that invariably draws attention. Even when it is up, as a deference to practical factors or because she just feels like having a fancy updo today, her hair is vibrant enough and a unique enough colour and texture to be noticed.

The shortness speaks for itself, Pippa is under five feet tall, but is brightly coloured so she's hard to miss which just makes the fact she's all the way down there all the more obvious (Pippa talking to Lyon is always hilarious from the outside perspective).

Lastly, very smiley. Lady Pippa is a very nice girl, most people will agree. She's beautiful with a beautiful smile but the more attentive will notice it's basically always there. This is not entirely a mask, Pippa is a fairly happy individual who's natural inclination is to smile in most situations. But Pippa also wears her charming nature and natural beauty like an armour, people do not inherently take a small, very feminine, very charming and beautiful woman seriously. This is annoying, but it's also useful.

motion: How does your OC move? How does their clothing help or hinder their range of motion? Are they flexible, coordinated, clumsy?

There's a surprising economy of motion to Pippa. She's not much of a hands talker in the traditional sense, but she always has a fan on her and she gestures with it quite often. She's purposeful about it, and she's very purposeful in other motion to. She's not effortlessly gliding around, but she's not remotely clumsy and she is quite coordinated, so it's very rare to see her stumble. In general, she's good at giving the impression of being in motion without actually expending much energy. Another part of her "don't mind me I'm just a human parakeet" camouflage. formal: What’s your OC’s formal look? Do they like dressing up? Do they have different looks for different occasions?

Modern fashions in the Inner Court rather demand one be, if not fashionable, at least armed with quite a lot of clothing. The general rules means that even when she's being casual, Pippa looks fairly formal or at least polished next to many people's definition. As it stands however, Pippa's very sartorially inclined and not remotely embarrassed by this fact.

Currently, the fashion for noble women happens to align with the more common fashions in day wear. A blouse and a skirt, and a shawl, are all part of the fashion. Arlish influence from Princess Constance is where they diverge and means the skirt and shawl are fabulously complicated at the moment, as the skirt is split so you must have beautiful petticoats, a beautiful skirt and a shawl that goes with both. And a maid who can make sure all three are visible at once. In a pinch, at least until Sayra and Ria really master the draping (I'm sure they're no slouches on day one) Pippa can do her own draping. The skirts are quite full, but Wellin has introduced the world to the cage Crinolin and in Corval, it's very new but Pippa is both a proper fashionista and a fan of not having to wear mountains of fabric if she doesn't have to.

Her evening wear is more likely to be a single dress back in Corval, but at the Summit having pieces she can mix-and-match maximizes her ability to not rewear items so she might have opted to continue with her day wear model. In Corval, you can kind of do either but the Inner Court favours a full dress because Princess Constance favours a full dress, as does the Empress but she is admittedly not a fashion icon these days. At night too, the shawl is less utilized but Pippa's mother comes from a culture that uses the shawl very heavily in their fashion, so you never see Pippa without one, though the limits of packing mean she could only bring so many heavily embroidered, 2 meter long bolts of fabric with her haha.

Heavy makeup isn't really in fashion in Corval, other than the use of kohl which is older than the nation, and Pippa doesn't like to have a lot of things on her face honestly. Jewellery on the other hand very much is important, Pippa's not quite wealthy enough she can absolutely drape herself in jewels but her mother's dowry was saffron fields so, she does alright.

Shoes are her one sticking point, Pippa's not a huge fan of shoes so she doesn't have much of a collection, but she has enough she'll never let her outfits down.

[incorrect-7kpp-quotes]

Ria: Treat spiders the way you want to be treated

Sayra: Killed without hesitation

[sazandorable]

((WHAT’S THIS?? SOMETHING ELSE THAN POKEMON?? INCONCEIVABLE!!))

I started playing 7 Kingdoms: The Princess Problem again to romance Ria, so here she is, the frecklediest, blushiest, adorablest of maids!

[ellebeebee]

7kpp Secret Santa 2017

Happy Secret Santa, ya’ll~~

I got @awayandlaughing, and I did your first option, with Ria, Sayra, and Jasper preparing before the Summit, and a good deal of all the other servants preparing for/reacting to their assignments. 8)  And also a bit of an oblique reference to your Pippa~

Thanks @7kppsecretsanta for setting all this up!

-

One piece of parchment.  Of average size and quality, the ink upon it unremarkable though the penmanship was unmistakably refined.  No clandestine messages written in invisible ink marked its surface, and no imposing noble seal was fashioned to its signature.  The author of the note had been clear in its message, without flowery epithets or poetic allusions.

And yet it had, more effectively than Head Cook’s infamous triple chocolate trifle, silenced the servants’ dining hall that morning.

In normal circumstances, of course, butlers sat at the head table and maids, valets, and all other miscellaneous inside servants sat at the next two tables.  The bottom two were given to the grounds workers.  This morning, the grounds workers still sat in their usual spots, albeit with curious looks and crooks in the necks around at the others.  Now, black uniforms and neat pale pinafores interspersed the top tables, no longer confined to the formerly rigid partitioning.  Wide eyes and chewed lips dotted expressions.

The two girls were already waiting for him in their new places at the head table, already looking a bit squirmy.  Jasper adjusting his plate and glass in his hands and moved toward them.

And Edmun skittered into his path.  The pale young man breathed sharply through his nose.

“Jasper,” his slightly strangled voice edged out. “I assume you’ve seen the assignments--”

“Yes, I do believe we have all seen them,” Jasper said.  He waited pointedly for the other to move from his obvious intention of obstructing him.  When Edmun did not, Jasper exhaled softly. “Is there a problem, Edmun?”

“A pro--” Edmun stopped before he tossed himself completely out of propriety. “Sir.  As I understand it, the Matchmaker shares some confidence with you.  And so perhaps you are able to enlighten me as to her reasoning for…” He inhaled dramatically. “My assignment.”

Jasper’s brow arched incrementally. “The Crown Prince of Revaire is a prestigious placement.  I fail to see how you could harbor any disappointment.”

“As a valet,” Edmun deadpanned while a vessel pulsed at his temple. “I am a certified butler.  While Montgomery certainly has seniority by far, there’s no sense in wasting my skills--”

“I am sure I am mistaken, but it sounds like you are implying the Matchmaker has been nonsensical,” Jasper said.

“I… I didn’t mean…”

“Yes.  I am sure what you mean to say is that you are grateful for the chance to learn from a senior staff member like Montgomery and it will be an honor to serve such a highly-esteemed member of the nobility.”

Edmun’s tongue floundered for a return.

Jasper pointedly inclined his head. “Now, if you will excuse me, my tea is getting cold.”

Edmun let him by with a somewhat churlish ‘Yes, sir.’

Jasper was not one to put too much confidence in hearsay, but the sheer amount of anecdotal evidence concerning the Crown Prince of Revaire’s character did make the Matchmaker’s choice somewhat curious.  Montgomery was an old hand, if rather lackluster in personality.  Edmun and the other valet were, frankly, arrogant little things.  Hmm.

Perhaps she did not think subservient servants suitable for-- how had he put it-- such a highly-esteemed member of the nobility.

Honestly, though, he was hard put to imagine any other staff member protesting an assignment to a Crown Prince-- not because of his character-- but because it didn’t suit their dignity.

His assigned maids, a Ria and Sayra, sat near the opposite end of the head table.  Ria’s shoulders had a stiff set to them, and her eyes darted a bit.  While Sayra waited with all due inscrutable placidity.  And both had not touched their plates in deference to his absence, as they had been instructed.  That was a relief.  He didn’t need absolute obedience, but he did need amenable characters if this Summit was to be a success for their lady.

The girls rose from their seats at his approach, but he waved them back.

“Good morning,” he said, taking his own chair.

“Good morning,” they replied, Sayra with quiet confidence and Ria just one moment behind her.  She blushed at her fumble.

Jasper ignored it.  He gave them a few introductory comments about the time they will spend together in the future, and the essential nature of their jobs.  Although it is the ruling class who steers the course of the world, they cannot do it without trustworthy and competent help.  Which was made quite difficult by the young maid a few seats down seasoning her slowly congealing cream of wheat with her noisy tears.

“Oh, do buck up,” a young butler nearby finally told her. “How bad can it be, really?”

She blinked wetly at him, her face gone ruddy and drippy. “I’ve-- I’ve-- It’s the pr-prince from Hise.”

The young butler raised a brow. “Do they have princes there?”

This did not console the girl.  She hiccuped. “I d-don’t want to be kidnapped.”

“Oh, yes, how inconvenient that would be,” the young butler agreed solemnly. “After all, I hear dying from scurvy is quite painful.”

The girl gave a quiet wail.  Another younger butler across her looked sympathetic.

“Oh, don’t please.  Listen, I have the princess from Hise and I have taken the initiative of pulling a volume of anti-kidnapping self-defenses from the library.  You can look over it as well.”

The teasing butler bit his lip around a snort.

“That’s enough,” Jasper finally raised his voice to address them.  Their seatmates around them quieted. “As Isle servants, it is not our place nor does it particularly speak well of us to judge our lords and ladies, no matter where they may hail from.  Keep your thoughts to yourself and do your work.”

A tentative chorus of ‘Yes, sir’s’ ran down the table.

Another young girl, despite her more senior companion’s glares, sort of half-raised her hand in a not-yet discarded schoolroom habit.

“But, Jasper, sir--  What if, if say, you’ve been assigned to someone you think might have unusual interests.  Such as, well-- Such as, say, p-puzzles, or piano forte, or maybe, you know,” she paused and fiddled with her braid. “Poison.”

A barely-stifled collective gasp ran down the table, worse than any penny play of the most purple prose.

Jasper eyed her.  This girl and her companion were given a position with a young man of Corval.  A country of which there was no shortage of lurid tales of evil schemers and courtly machinations.  Though there is no smoke without fire, much of these tales were idle fancy.

Jasper opened his mouth, but this girl ploughed on as if the dam on her anxieties had broken.

“I mean it doesn’t do any harm, right?  To read and prepare in case you have to handle any-- any p-poisons, right?  And practice lying, right?  I’ve heard to be a good servant in Corval you must learn to lie for your master and be deadly loyal.  I’m not-- I’m not going to have to be buried alive beside them if they die, right?”  Her voice shrilled on this last.

From the corner of his eye, Jasper could see Ria’s blush draining away to a horrified palor.  Really.  Although their future charge was also Corvali, he had hoped that the girls would be a bit more sensible than this.  Well.  Better an impressionable person with honesty than a hardened veteran with ulterior motive.  He loudly cleared his throat.

“That is absolutely enough of that, thank you,” Jasper told the panicking girl. “The practice of burying servants with their masters hasn’t been practiced in Corval in millenia.  And in any case, there will be no poison, and positively no deaths during the Summit.  What nonsense.”

He studied them all as they withered under his eye. “It seems to me that you all have much work to do in preparation before the arrivals, so I think it would be best to end breakfast early.”

He stood-- the most senior butler present-- and the others rushed to cover their surprise and stand as well.  The line of servants was dotted with sullen glares at the worriers for denying them their meal.  As they all marched sadly out of the dining hall, Jasper gestured at Ria and Sayra to keep up with him.  Sayra wore her ever-calm face, yet her counterpart noticeably still looked wan with shaking fingers wringing her pinafore’s hem.

He gave an internal sigh.  They had so much work to do.

-

In the following weeks, Jasper wondered not a few times whether the Matchmaker was specifically testing his patience.  And what, exactly, that meant about his future mistress.

Even if he were inclined to speculate on the matter, he hardly had time inbetween the hours spent prepping Ria and Sayra and the incessant pestering of those servants disinclined to just do their jobs.

Of particular annoyance was Dietr, the very newest to be qualified as a butler and given the appointment of the princess from Wellin; Jasper found himself ambushed around every corner, in every common room and parlor, with Dietr’s desperate pleas for guidance in the intricate art of etiquette.  From the proper bow of an earl to a duke on their third meeting, to the correct color of china to serve an impromptu second afternoon tea on-- the boy was near in tears over the most esoteric minutiae of proper behavior, certain that he was beyond under-qualified for his lady and that he would most certainly offend her the very moment she first laid eyes on him.

On top of that, a very petty form of hierarchy was wriggling its way into the staff.  Assignments were furtively compared, and suddenly the butler of a Revairan count thought they could order the servants of a Hisean lord to do their laundry.  The Hisean lord’s servants argued that rank was irrelevant in Hise and anyway, how dare they, etc.  A nasty feud of over-starched knickers ensued.

And of course, there was the incident wherein a maid had three of her fingers broken after she and her partner kept sneaking into the sparring practice room to clumsily whack at each other with wooden swords.  After a thorough dressing-down, they explained they were terrified their future Skaltan lady would deem them useless having never studied the blade.

Jasper was not sure where he found the time to drill his maids in the Summit schedule and etiquette, and have them practice their skills, amidst all of this chicanery, but he knew it had involved not a few cups of very stiff tea.

It was a shame that information about ladies of Corval’s inner sanctums was near impossible to obtain, else he would have had the girls work on ways to enhance their lady’s particular charms.  But with the sheer amount of different cooks and laundresses they practiced on, he had no doubt they would be ready no matter what stepped through that chamber door.  And he himself had the delegation roster down pat perfectly, and felt confident he would be able to assist her whatever her goals may be.

And with his and Sayra’s careful nudging, Ria seemed to largely divest herself of notions of being buried alive.

A success all around.

-

The door clicked softy behind Jasper and the lady’s exit, and Ria immediately slumped with a loud exhale.

Sayra patted her arm. “See?  All that worrying for nothing.”

Ria’s hand flew up to cover the sudden heat washing over her cheeks. “Oh!  I know!  When I think about how silly I’ve been-- Oh, Sayra, how did you and Jasper ever put up with me?”

Sayra knelt by the large suitcases to begin organizing and putting away the mountains of silk and beading and jewels.

“You make it easier than you think,” she said.

“So silly,” Ria repeated. “I’ve been terribly, terribly silly.  And when she is so lovely-- Oh, Sayra, promise me, please, you’ll never tell her all the awful things I was worried about.”

Sayra gave her small, soft smile. “It’s a promise.”

[mendedwings]

7KPP Week ~Fashion~

Next contribution for @fyeah7kpp’s appreciation week, Sadie/Hamin vs Arlish fashion

---

“Glitter, what is this?”

Sadie turned from her furtive peeking into the hallway to find Hamin staring at the pale blue and white gown hanging on the side of her armoire.

“It’s a dress,” she said slowly, wondering what he meant by the question. “For dinner tonight.”

He chuckled at her bemusement and leaned against the wall by her window. Ready to make a quick exit if they heard someone coming, she supposed. “I may not be the clothing aficionado Cordelia is, but I do know that much. What I meant-” He fell silent as footsteps treaded down the hallway, waited until they were passed to continue. “It does not look like any dress I have ever seen, nor a particularly comfortable one, for that matter.”

Sadie gave a wry laugh. “It’s the latest in Arlish fashion, or was when I left, and that rarely means comfort, I fear.” 

Hamin looked between her and the dress a few times, his eyes narrowing at the gold-embroidered bodice. “I think your seamstress measured wrong. That looks too small in the waist to fit a human being.”

“Oh, Ria will lace me into a corset snug enough to ensure it fits just fine.” Funny that the thought inspired annoyance now, rather than resignation.

Hamin frowned, his sharp green eyes full of concern. “That can’t be healthy, Sadie.”

She shrugged. “The price we ladies pay for staying in style. It’s only a few hours, and at least it’ll keep me from eating too much.”

“Ah, but with food this good, that seems as much a crime and caging you so.” Despite his light tone, he sent a critical look at the gown. “Fashion be damned, Glitter, I’d rather see you in something you like, that lets you breathe.” He winked. “Though I will be sure to catch you should you faint.”

“My hero,” Sadie giggled quietly. “If you leave now before someone catches you in my room, I’ll take it under consideration.” She did enjoy seeing him, but every visit like this was a fresh risk, and they were so close to the end. Marrying a pirate was enough of a scandal to fling at her parents without him being caught in her private quarters beforehand.

Hamin grinned. “You have a deal, my dearest treasure.” He gave her a swift kiss on the cheek--”See you at dinner”--and vanished out the window.

Sadie laughed watching him go, then heard her mother’s voice in her head, some of her final instruction, as she surveyed the gown again. ‘Remember, my dear, above all; confidence never goes out of style.’

Maybe it was time she took that to heart.

[just-jammin]

Can I request Ria from 7KPP?

It's a non-coloured doodle, and you can use whatever colour you like to draw her.

As for why 7KPP every time I request something... I really like the game :3

eh, it’s fine! i’m starting to like drawing stuff i don’t know much about; it’s getting me to learn a bit more abt them!

anyway, here’s the art!

[leahazel]

7KPP-tide

It’s Yuletide noms season!

I nominated Anaele, Gisette, Ria and Avalie.

@faejilly, @quilleth

Tag anyone who you think might be interested. You can nom without signing up, if that makes a difference (I’ve done it in the past).

[angstmongertina]

7KPP Prompts Day 2: Soar

I’m like 10 hours late because I had to get up early today for a friend’s thesis defense, but here’s my fill for yesterday’s prompt!

As it always was on Vail Isle, the wind was warm as she made her way to the lakeshore, Jasper following, somewhat reluctantly, at her heels.

“Lady Evelynne, I must insist—”

She glanced over her shoulder, grinning at the disapproval on his face. “Jasper.” She muffled a snicker as his mouth snapped shut, ever the consummate professional. “It’ll be fun. Don’t you trust me?”

Much to her amusement, though he said nothing more, his face still illustrated the depths of his misgivings, clear enough now that she knew where to look. Still, she ignored it, instead casting her eyes over nearby trees.

When none of them seemed to fit his description, she shook her head, then pushed onward, skirting around the water and ignoring the soft questioning noise from behind her.

The next cluster of held more promise, and she paused, tapping her lip as she considered. The one nearest the water was surely too wizened, looking as though it were barely remaining upright. The one beside it had promise, or would have if the lowest branch were not at least a dozen feet in the air…

“Truly?”

Jasper had caught up, and given the look of disbelief he leveled at her, had managed to add two and two. Then again, considering the past few weeks, she was hardly surprised by how quickly he seemed to understand her thoughts; he often seemed to anticipate her actions before she even conceived of them herself. Clearly, the present was no different.

“No.”

Rather than bothering to respond, she cast her gaze over the nearest one. It certainly had potential, though she couldn’t be sure if it were the same one. But if her estimation was correct, if she jumped, she could reach the lowest branch…

“Evelynne, I refuse to condone this behavior.”

She shrugged, purposely ovelry cavalier. “That’s fine. I was hoping you might make the search a little easier, but I suppose I could just try every one…”

Even before he spoke, she knew she had won; he sighed, though his eyes were notably less exasperated than the rest of his expression might indicate as he moved around her, placing his hand on one sturdy trunk. “This one here. Why does this even interest you?”

That she could answer and she turned, smiling at him as she carefully laid her shawl on the grass. “Because it was clearly important to you.”

Whatever he was expecting, it clearly was not that; a look of shock passed over his face before it was replaced by his usual stoicism.

Chuckling under her breath, she turned to the tree itself. It was not the largest of the group, nor the oldest, but its branches were thick and sturdy, arranged in such a manner that it was almost begged to be climbed. And it wasn’t like there was anyone to witness her break in propriety excepting Jasper…

She leapt, catching hold and feeling a tug as her skirt caught on a small twig. With a frown, she twisted free, making a mental note to apologize profusely to Ria later, as well as offer thanks to Ana, though she doubted that was what the princess had been expecting her training to be used for.

Swinging herself up, she leaned back against the trunk, laughing as Jasper stared up at her, a mix of astonishment and what, on anyone else, she’d have called admiration in his gaze. “I do hope you realize that when I said I used to come here to read, I meant on the ground.”

She waved a hand airily, looking out toward the lake. “Yes, but I have no book and the view is far better from up here.”

“Perhaps so, but I cannot imagine that anyone would approve of you doing so.”

Swinging her legs with almost childlike abandon, she shrugged. “I suppose not, but I suppose it would only confirm what they had suspected from the beginning. At any rate, I would rather they gossip about this rather than continue their pointless speculation on the late Baron. At least this is true, though I suppose given the circumstances, I will know exactly who decided to spread these rumors, no?”

Her teasing clearly did little to set him at ease; though his expression softened somewhat, the disapproval did not bate. “And how do you intend to get down?”

She heaved a heavy sigh, swinging back down and swearing under her breath as her skirt caught once again on the rough bark. “Like so. Besides, I have faith in your butlery ways.” She grinned, patting him playfully on the shoulder. “You’d find a way. You’ve kept me out of trouble for weeks now. Well, mostly.”

“There’s a first time for everything.”

In spite of herself, the sincerity in his voice, rather than the sarcasm she expected, made her blink, coming to a halt, but he shook his head, something inscrutable, even for her, crossing his expression before he raised an eyebrow. “Ria will be most displeased at the state of your dress.”

It was an obvious attempt but she obediently paused, glancing down and grimacing at the dirt and small tear she found. “Do you think she’ll listen if I tell her to leave it alone and that I can take care of it?”

“No more than I would, my lady.”

She rolled her eyes. “I thank you for your faith in me, Jasper.”

He huffed a laugh, but when he turned away, leading the way back towards the castle, she couldn’t be sure if she imagined the quiet murmur. “Always, my lady.”

[motylapodkowa]

7KPP Week Day 7 - Future

Today is Valentine day so why not show future with love!

Alexia...... maybe is staying to live on the Island? Will there be an option like that? I would so love it! Especially when you want to contnue Katyas Legacy. Adn Alexia wants to ensure peace like Katya did. With the help of Jasper and some maids. I have to add that seriously I was supposed to ship her with Hamin then Jasper happened (I even named a butler Jasper when I played Heroes Rise).

Safira is enjoying a long dance under the stars with Zarad. They will have a lot of time to learn about each other and teach other people not ot mess with them. Also she is ahppy she can stay in her country and be close to her mother. She was also supposed to be with someone else (Clarmont) and then Zarad and their shared story happened.

I will try to someday fix most of those drawing so they would look better.

And also happy Valentines Day! X3 <3

[birbycakes]

IT’S RIA!!!! Finally some 7KPP fanart again! \^o^/

[zordonmlw7]

Seven Kingdoms: The Parallel Prince

~ Part 1 ~

(A/N This is my first 7kpp fanfic and I’m just gonna post this here because I’m too impatient to get on AO3′s waiting list for an account I may not even use much. So... to tumblr. :D  Honestly, this could be a lot better, but I didn’t feel like editing it because I’m publishing this literally on a whim at 4:30 in the morning.  My main concern is that it’s maybe mirroring the game’s style a bit too closely and not in the direct emulation way I utilize in later chapters (I have Ch 2 and 3 written already.) I don’t even know if anyone if gonna read this fanfic let alone this super long author’s note so I guess I’ll stop already. XD)

We must begin with a story. A legend.  Even a fairytale of sorts.  Only this story, this legend, is a true one.  An important one.

 Then again.  You’ve probably heard it before.  Dozens of times.  Who in this day and age hasn’t heard of how, 100 years ago, Princess Katyia created what would become the Seven Summit and ushered in an age of peace and prosperity?

 I’ll spare the details. This is a story of a new delegation. One that may prove to be as momentous as the original held by Katyia herself!

 On Vail Isle, a silver haired butler stares at the delegate he will be serving the next seven weeks.

“Greetings, my liege. My name is Jasper and I’ve been assigned as your personal butler during your stay here at Vail Ilse.”

 The delegate eyes Jasper, a man whose good looks do not take away from the grave tone in his voice. He informs the delegate of his responsibilities as his butler, the most important of which being to be completely invested in the delegate’s interests.  However, before he can be invested in said interests, he must know them, and with them, the delegate’s past.

 The delegate was the son of a Marquis of Arland.  From a young age, he showed unusual intelligence, something that would be greatly advantageous to his upbringing.  Growing up, he was quickly instilled with the traditional Arlish devotion to duty.  As a result, he was always very obedient, never disobeying his parents (at least not to their faces).  When the day came for him to begin his tutoring, he discovered he had his work cut out for him.  Due to bordering Jiyel, academic capital of the world whose court was interspersed with countless scholars, the ruling family of their march always received tutoring far more intensive than the curriculum of other Arlish noblemen. While many would find this to be unnecessarily stressful, the marquis’ son thrived.  It was often said by the servants that the young boy never smiled more brightly than after reading a particularly insightful piece of literature, or after having solved a math problem his tutor had anticipated would stump him.  Despite his love for academia, however, no tutor loved him more than his speech tutor. His ability with words, coupled with his keen knowledge, often garnered remarks of being a miniature tutor himself. When not in the classroom, he often accompanied his parents to whatever business they had.  Although he was present, he was to remain silent at all times, and, as he was not expected to pay attention to the actual discussions, spent ample time watching people, trying to figure out how they worked. While he received basic self-defense training like the other noble boys, he preferred talking his way out of a dispute.

Once, as a child, he traveled with his parents to a meeting in Jiyel.  The day of the meeting, his parents sent him to a town several miles away that would be holding a festival, giving him a rare chance to enjoy the Jiyelian culture.  The day of festivities, however, took a dark turn.  The carriage, while going down a solitary road, was attacked by bandits!  Not wanting to risk losing his guards in a fight and possibly endangering himself further, he bribed them with the allowance he had been given to spend at the festival, keeping the emergency treasure hidden under his seat out of their hands.  

Another time, his parents tasked him with trying to please an especially naughty noble woman.  Despite being lower in rank than you, she acted as though she and her parents’ county were the mightiest and most regal in Arland.  However, as his parents wanted hers to support their treaty, he was left with no option but to fulfill his duty.  After speaking to several other nobles, he learned that the girl’s cousin was her most bitter rival.  Although the cousin was 2 years her junior, she was already ahead of her in her studies, and the girl did not take it well.  So he decided to bombard the girl with countless compliments directed at her cousin… with said cousin several feet away.  In her resulting fury, she challenged said cousin to a competition, which she easily lost.  While he felt bad for using such an underhanded tactic, after seeing how humble the experience left her, any trace of regret he had faded.  The treaty promptly passed.

Another tale of his past involved his visit to the province of Caiserban, an area deteriorating because of drought.  He was entrusted to help prepare for his parents’ visit and was sent ahead.  When he arrived to the castle where he would be staying, however, he saw an angry mob that had formed outside of it.  Noticing the luxury carriage with finely dressed nobleman inside, the mob quickly directed their attention to him.  Despite having to face a horde of townspeople who might get a kick at seeing him hanged and his castle raided, he recalled his parents instructions and remained calm. He asked the people to individually voice their concerns.  He quickly realized the people were not revolting because of the drought; it was a force of nature and no authority figure could do anything to change it. No, these people were worried that, given the trecherous reputation of their governor, that the nobility did not care for them and would allow them to suffer.  With a calm smile and a promise to discuss their concerns with the governor during the noble family’s visit, the mob disbanded.

At the age of 15, he was informed that he wouldn’t have time to take on as many classes as he had been, and was asked to limit his time to but one tutor. He was tempted heavily to keep his academic tutor, but he felt to choose personal preference over responsibility was against everything Arland stood for.  Reluctantly, he dismissed academic tutor, along with all the rest but his political tutor.  As fun as he found most any other subject, he knew politics was his future and he needed to give the subject the attention it deserved.

 Having finished story time, Jasper proceeded to prod for some more information.  Firstly, his weaknesses.  His biggest weakness came to mind immediately.

 “I’m not very charming. My grannie is the most easily charmed person in the world and even she won’t fall for my puppy eyes.” He laughs off the last statement.  

 Seeing that the butler expects him to divulge more, he ponders the topic a bit more. “Well…  My hardest subject growing up was always my self-defense training. And given how long it’s been since I’ve had any lessons, I imagine what skills I had have likely all but rusted away at this point.”

 Having divulged such sensitive information, to a complete stranger no less, leaves him feeling… cleansed. It’s a feeling he finds comparable to confession.  Of course, here on this mysterious isle, there is no guarantee that this information will remain strictly between him and the gods.  However, as he sees it, there is no way of getting around placing his trust in the hands of the handsome, stoic-faced man before him.  In fact, the more he considers it, he isn’t really placing his trust in the butler at all, but rather, the delegation itself. His family, his faith, his country, the very institutions that govern his life.  He had placed his trust in all these things for as long as he could remember and had never been disappointed in the results.  It seemed only fitting now to place that same level of trust into the isle and all it represented.  

 After yet another long discussion, this one about his personality, Jasper nods his head and prepares to introduce him to his maids.  Two lovely women, dressed in simple garments enter the room and curtsy before him gracefully.  Jasper tells him their names are Ria and Sayra.  Although he would have preferred to introduce himself personally, he follows etiquette rules and allows Jasper to introduce him to them.  

 “This is Lord Ettore of Arland.”

~ End of Part 1 ~

Skills

Charm – 10

Eloquence – 50

Beauty – 25

Leadership – 25

Self Defense – 15

Charisma – 25

Manipulation – 25

Courage – 25

Intelligence – 60

Etiquette – 55

Grace – 0

Poise – 50

Cunning – 50

Insight – 0

Knowledge

Academic – 40

People – 25

Politics – 40

History – 15

[incorrect-7kpp-quotes]

Ria: Can I get you anything to drink?

MC: The tears of my enemies wrenched from their bodies as their bones are crushed

Ria: I have jasmine tea

MC: Ooh, jasmine. Yes please

[mer-birdman]

For the ways to say I love you prompts, for your 7kpp angst child ;) 22 (I'm evil, I know). or 29. For the signs of affection prompts: 1, 15 or 23

Thanks for the ask!! I actually just did the ‘ways to say i love you’ one with Irina (and Jasper of course), because I’ve been neglecting my OCs and wanted to write about them, so I’m gonna post the 7kpp one here and then do a second post with the others.

22 - Muffled, from the other side of the door(Filled with Irina & Jasper — romantic — from 7KPP)

Everything's packed away now. Dresses and skirts and trousers in her trunk, boots in the lid and her dancing slippers tucked away somewhere safe with the hairpins and pressed flower crown that Penelope had given her, all that long ago in the first week here. Sketchbooks and paintings wrapped in lengths of oilcloth to protect them from the sea and tucked amongst the clothes so nothing would tear or stain them. Ria and Sayra have already taken all her things away to the ships that are waiting to depart — Hamin and Cordelia have asked that she sail with them on the journey home, and Irina is almost excited for the experience.

If only it didn't have come at the price of a goodbye.

Her room — well, no, it's not her's any longer, so just the room — is tidy and tranquil, a sort of depersonalized cleanliness that echoes with anticipation. She wonders if anyone will use it between now and the next Summit, or if the guest rooms just wait in a sort of preserved stasis for the next unlucky batch of delegates to inhabit them. Somehow, it wouldn't be surprising if that were the case. Still, as she looks at the heavy curtains around the bed and the gauzy ones that cover the ceiling-to-floor window, Irina gets the feeling that the room must feel very lonely if that's the case.

Today is certainly a day for loneliness, it seems. She's already said her goodbyes to the friends she's made from beyond Hise, as Hamin's ship is one of the last to leave. Penelope had all but suffocated her while demanding through tears that they stay in touch, and Lisle had clasped their hands together and promised that she would always be welcome in their home court, should she wish to visit. Stopping by on his way out, Zarad had wrapped one arm around her shoulders in a just-shy-of-appropriate embrace and whispered a promise and a thanks in her ear, before leaning back and proclaiming that Blain sent his best wishes with a cheeky wink. Lyon and Avalie, walking together for once (Falon had been very strict about making sure all of his delegates were properly organized as they left), had paused by her room to wish her a good journey home in their own unique manners. Gisette's butler had passed on hers and Jarrod's regards after they'd left, along with a letter that spoke of continued communication, and Clarmont had joined her for one last breakfast that morning. Emmett's parting had been brief and tearful, and he'd left her with a packet of seeds to plant in her garden at home — she'd given him a sheaf of sketches from the Summit, mostly the plants that they'd discovered were only found on the Isle, in return.

Ria had cried the last time they'd seen each other, when the maids came by to collect her belongings, and Sayra had given her an uncharacteristic embrace before helping her tearful friend with the luggage. Irina wonders if she'll be able to get letters to the Isle somehow.

The last goodbye knocks on her door, and she quickly leans her back against it so it will stay shut because she can't do this, not like this, not now. Not with how she all but knows it will end.

He knocks again, and this time it's accompanied by his voice, gentle and carefully neutral. "Irina, it's time to go. Would you allow me to walk you back to the ship?" It goes unsaid, but the meaning of finality is clear as the crystalline waters in Half Moon Cove back home. A quiet, heavy pause, before the wood of the door creaks as though he's rested his hand against it. "Irina, are you alright?"

"Fine. I just—" She wants desperately to lie, to tell him something, anything other than the truth (the truth is heavy, so why can't she bring herself to lie to him), but he deserves better than that. Better than her, but yet somehow they've still found themselves dancing like this. "—just can't do this. Leave like this." (Leave you, leave the Isle, leave the one place I've felt safe for the last six years but I can't say that, there's too much you still can't know). "I'm sorry, Jasper, but I—"

Behind the door, he sighs softly. "It's alright, Irina. I understand."

She doesn't want this. She wants anything but for it to be like this. It hurts and hurts and hurts to hear the quiet resignation in his voice, and she needs him to somehow understand that her feelings haven't changed. That he still means a world and the stars to her. "I'm sorry, I— it's not you, Jasper, I promise. If I could stay— if I could stay, I would, but my mother needs me and I can't, I can't just—"

"I know." His voice is soft, muffled by the door between them. "I love you, Irina. Remember that. I'll—" For the first time, his voice breaks off, and she both feels and hears the quiet thump of his head leaning against the door, "—I'll try to write, if they let me."

It isn't until she hears his footsteps echoing mournfully down the hall that Irina allows herself to slide down the door and weep.

If only the price of peace wasn't a broken heart.

Thanks for asking! Part 2 coming in a few moments~!

The way you said “I love you.“

[ellebeebee]

Ria ||  You are so grand and wonderful.