#IN RUINS | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

forgottenarthur · 3 months ago

Text

In Ruins | Arthur, Roderick, Eilia, Aria, etc...

Another step. Another. Up and up and up they rose before him, unending as the Kolchean ouroboros. And not a soul was speaking. For all the attendants traipsing and tripping after their god-given Emperor, a strange breathy silence pervaded, headed by the sullen-faced ó Réaltaí sisters (as the Staffords were now, evidently, to be called) and maintained by Roderick's many retainers, half-gasping with the interminable climb. The silence was a veil and Arthur felt twitchy, his fingers beating a tattoo against his thigh as he walked and walked.

"You Astairans certainly were not in jest when you claimed to live amongst the stars, I see."

Silence. Arthur detested silence. He'd always dested it, and he detested it now most of all. It was tense; it was subdued. And he didn't know what Aria was thinking...

Or anyone else. His father, for instance, or even...He glanced around to catch another face, half-desperate to prove there were other feelings which concerned him. Eilionora. No. But he wasn't supposed to care what she thought: she was the enemy. Still. He cared even less for what Sir Gregory thought.

Huffing, he shrugged. "I think I shall be eighty years old by the time we reach the top!"

"And here I imagined," began Eilionora, tone condescending. "A knight might be glad of such exercise."

"I--" Arthur frowned, rankling against the comment and struggling to invent a sufficient retort, when at last daylight (dying, by now, he saw) broke upon them. "At last!"

By the time Arthur gained the room, a world of ancient plaster featuring a tiny stone window in its concave surface. His father was already there, attendants arrayed about him like the streaming light of the sun, itself painting all in Arthur's own red. Eilionora stood opposite him, her expression fierce and determined, with her sister at her side and, fobidding as Aria looked, Arthur found himself drifting towards her.

Looking up, then, Arthur saw the look on his father's face. "Shit."

This was an expression well known to Arthur: triumphant and gleaming. The emperor was about to make the weight of whatever victory he'd won felt. "You thought to keep it from us," began Roderick, eyes glowing. "You strove and you strove, but every trace of your heathen gods will now be expunged."

Arthur felt Aria's eyes on him, but he could not pull his gaze from his father. Turning, Roderick grinned knowingly and suddenly thrust his arm directly through a wall.

"Father!" Arthur cried, starting forward. He stopped short. The emperor was unhurt and, in fact, a hole now stood in the wall where his hand once had been.

"A crafty illusion, to be sure," gloated Roderick. "Who'd think to vellum up a wall? Painted so precisely as to look to be pure plaster. But your woman's trick has come to naught."

Snapping, Roderick gestured and, at once, his attendants got to the business of tearing down the wall.

"God," breathed Arthur.

Roderick's gaze flicked towards him. "Why do you stand by them, Arthur?"

Arthur glanced hastily at the ladies. Swallowed. "To ensure they do not attempt to flee."

Roderick frowned.

"Your inevitable victory is something they really ought to see, Your Imperial Majesty."

Satisfied, Roderick smiled triumphantly at Eilionora, and nodded to Arthur. Aria glared at him. The emperor turned as a broad, wooden door was revealed and, with some difficulty, prized open by the attendants.

Now, it was to file into the room. Two servants went first -- to ensure the safe passage of the glorious presence behind them against any booby traps -- then the emperor went through followed by his attendants and lastly the ladies, with Arthur bringing up the train.

The door was low and ancient he saw, its planks turned half to stone by unimaginable age and, curious, Arthur swept his fingers along it as he passed through. The soul, he was told, was recurring. Had some version of him ever touched this wood before, perhaps its gentle-growing branches before it had been cut. Stooping to pass under the lintel, Arthur was temporarily blinded by a blanket of dark, limpid eyes narrowing as he stumbled a step or two inside.

He emerged into a vault of starlight as the last vestiges of day gave way to velvet-soft night, the firmament dotted with twinkling starlight, caught in a veil of midnight. It seemed a thousand, thousand stars glittered in the liquid night and that, if Arthur only stretched out his hand, he might just touch them with the edges of his fingertips.

"God be good," whispered Arthur. "I've never seen so many stars."

Glancing about him, he took in the ruins all about him -- a shattered dome, floor-to-ceiling arches that may once have contained windows now gaping over a yawning chasm.

"Do you know what this room is, Arthur?"

"No," he said, curiously glancing around him. "What is this place?"

It seemed to him that each lain stone was blue as lapis lazuli -- perhaps was lapis lazuli! -- and inset with ivory or some such so that stars were inset even into the very stones that strained to shelter them against the heedless sky above. Stretching out a hand, he laid it flat against one wall, cautiously approaching the casements to peer over the side of the mountain. Nothing but open sky greeted his gaze.

"How far up are we?"

"This is the crest of the mountain, Arthur."

He straightened, turned back towards his father. "What?!" he demanded. " Then--then this is--"

"Yes, the so-called Vault of the Heavens, the Cathedral of Stars, and other such: the very spot where their heathen goddess is said to have once set foot, according to some legends; where the shards of starlight were found from which their familial swords were forged. This," Roderick pointed down, grinning now in the pale starlight. "This is the most sacred place in all of Stafford."

Arthur glanced down at his feet, some sensation half like guilt springing vine-like across him, before his gaze shot suddenly to Aria, her own gaze now trained, relentless, upon Roderick.

"Now," continued Roderick, even his tone a gloat. "Where are those craters where the stars touched the earth? They're in this very room..."

Arthur's gaze did not leave Aria's face and, though it was hard to tell in the streaming starlight, he thought perhaps he saw tears sparkling at the edges of her eyes. His throat tightened. Arthur's hands closed to fists.

"Fill them in, shall we?" continued Roderick. "And bring what's left of this place to the ground. No trace of this heresy shall remain once I've done."

It was misery on her face, bleak and utter. She seemed to look at the walls, to the sky, as if they spike to her, friends soon to be shattered. A loss as deep as her name. Gritting his teeth, Arthur turned abruptly to his father, but Eilionora beat him to it. She was...laughing. Arthur watched fury dawn upon Roderick's face, unfurling like a plume of liquid flame over obsidian-dark granite. Sneer for sneer and glare for glare, emperor and former queen stared one another down.

She came forward. "No original ideas, have you? Do you know some of my own ancestors had a similar notion. Their great hall might prove more useful, they believed, otherwise. They tried everything they could -- every earthly tool there is: stone to cover up and concrete to pour. They even attempted, when that did not work, to flatten the rest of the earth. In every case, their tools came away bent and broken. The goddess shelters this place still. You can no more raze this site than they!"

Roderick's face was granite, craggy rocks -- brow and nose and lips -- etched with statuesque ire. As Roderick moved to close the gap between himself and his would-be bride, Arthur stepped forward.

Arthur had seen his mother do this a thousand times. Surely...surely he could do it, too. Oh, he could not employ precisely the same tactics she did: what Roderick might find favorable in a woman would prove repulsive to him in a man, but the principles still stood. He could move the Emperor, if he chose. Surely he could. He simply never had. But surely, surely he could. And he would. Just this once. Just this once, he would...

Slowly he began to clap, letting boastful swagger into his step as he strode forward, placing himself between the emperor and the ladies, and turning a look of perfect arrogance upon the one-time queen. He'd perfected this look long ago. One in eternal competition had to.

"It was a fine attempt, my lady," he laughed. "But did you imagine the God's Chosen would fall for so obvious a ploy?"

"Ploy? It is no--"

Laughing, again, Arthur held up a hand to silence her and turned towards his father, clapping him on the shoulder. "The hubris of women excels everything."

He felt Roderick's gaze heavy upon him. Here it was. The moment. Everything hinged on what he said next. It wasn't a betrayal of Roderick, he told himself. What he said could be true! And there was Aria, lovely and lonely as the stars above, tears radiant with the same silver light. He couldn't stand by and watch. How could anyone bear the misery on Aria's face? No. He had to act. He had to.

"Imagine, trying to goad an emperor into cheating himself of his greatest prize!"

Arthur was careful not to look at Aria. He felt the weight of her look, but he did not turn. He hoped she saw what he was doing -- but he doubted it as well. She'd just see the hateful swaggering prince too easily bent by his father's will: the one she'd always detested leaping out again: throwing her beliefs in her sister's face; laughing at them both. Still, it was better, Arthur told himself, better than the alternative. It was the best he could do.

"When this is the seat of power she's been guarding, the secret she's been holding onto!"

Roderick's eyes were fastened on Arthur, and the prince knew his father would not ask for clarification: he would not wish to admit to anyone that he did not see what Arthur was getting at. But Arthur would have to be careful in that, too. He couldn't let his father realize that Arthur knew he wasn't following.

"It's like a woman, isn't it? To try to manipulate you into destroying the very thing that gives her power over the Astairan people." He turned his gaze on the queen, then, found her expression contoured with rage...and confusion. "This is it, after all, isn't it? This is the reason they follow you? This place? That lost blasted sword! You blind them with symbols of power till they believe in you and nothing else! You must hate your people in truth: to wish further unrest on them, rather than cede to peace under someone else! You'd rather this place reduced to rubble, wouldn't you, than see its power put into the hands of your conqueror?"

Roderick's hand was heavy on Arthur's shoulder. He was behind him, and Arthur couldn't see his face. Was it ire? His clever father had seen the betrayal in him, and now his cruel wrath would fall upon Arthur's mother and brother and sister as well as himself! The hand was heavy enough. But it lingered, too. Was it encouragement, then, a kind of thanks for showing him...what was, in fact, a lie? A rotten son, indeed, and to both parents, it seemed. Arthur swallowed hard.

"Easy, Arthur," his father said. "We cannot fault her for trying. It can be no easy thing to see one's seat of power fall into another's hands for a second time, I am sure."

Arthur heaved a deep breath, pressing his eyes closed. It had worked. And then he heard Eilionora laughing again.

Roderick gestured and the ladies were led away. Arthur did not dare look at Aria. He had saved her sacred site for her, yes, but could she forgive him for the means? And did she know it had been his intention? And, god, he had betrayed his own honored father in so doing! Perhaps he deserved punishment, after all. And, he thought, he'd suffer it all gladly. God, what was becoming of him?

It was Arthur's turn to laugh. And putting his hands to his face, he did.

#drabble #i have drabbles AND comments ppl actually ~asked for sitting in my drafts...#instead i give you this laksjfkljsdlfjsdjf #in ruins #roderick varmont #eilionora stafford #aria stafford #anyway lmk what you think: im happy to change anything at all this was just guess work re: how she'd behave based on what you said!!#also i def tried to keep it up to the imagination whether or not she ~actually cried -- arthur def ~thought he saw tears #but was that just his impression in a dark room???? who knows!!!#was sort of the vibe i wanted but idk if i pulled it off but yeah lajdfklsdjsdjfsdf #anyway happy to change absolutely anything!!! <3333

25 notes · View notes