#beloved manipulative minstrel king

[thelien-art]

Day 2: Maglor of @feanorianweek

Kingship

Poppy = Sloth | Manipulation

I do think Maglor mourned when Maedhros got himself captured, I just also read Maglor as a manipulative power hungry character.

He probably convinced himself that Maedhros had died and ignored everything that proved otherwise, both as a poor coping mechanism and, subconsciously, seizing the power of being a king, although he never named himself one as that would give him trouble. He differently enjoyed the power and mourned, when Maedhros came back, for the power loss. He was happy to have his brother back of course. I don´t think he spoke against Maedhros choice to give the kingship to Fingolfin, even if he wanted it himself, as he did except Fingolfin to do something stupid and get himself killed eventually, and by agreeing he seemed more "civil" and the friendliest of his brothers, which would end up giving him political power, giving people the illusion that he´s the innocent and harmless of his family.

Maedhros | Celegorm | Caranthir | Curufin | Ambarussa | Nerdanel and Feanor

[saoney]

Skyfall .𖥔 ݁ ˖

⭑ Satoru Gojo + [Fem! Reader] .ᐟ

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 Eldoria was built on lies and blood. [Y/N], the sheltered princess, lived her life unaware of the sins her parents committed to secure their kingdom’s golden age. But the ghosts of the past do not rest. Satoru Gojo, the last survivor of a kingdom destroyed by Eldoria’s greed, returns with a vengeance. When the night of his conquest leaves [Y/N] orphaned and her kingdom in ruins, Satoru spares her life—but only to make her his captive bride. In a world of betrayal, power, and obsession, can love bloom in the shadow of vengeance? Or will the weight of their broken kingdoms destroy them both?

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞𝐬 Dark Romance, Drama, Historical Fantasy, Revenge, Tragedy, Slow Burn

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 Graphic Violence, Death of Loved Ones, Emotional and Physical Abuse Themes, Forced Marriage, Power Imbalance, Themes of Revenge and Obsession, Psychological Manipulation, Trauma and PTSD Representation, Mature Themes

🔖 masterlist

Chapter 1: An Eye for an Eye

The kingdom of Eldoria shimmered beneath the midday sun, its white stone walls gleaming like polished pearls. Golden banners bearing the royal crest fluttered in the gentle breeze, announcing to all that this was no ordinary day. It was a day of celebration—the [Y/N Age] birthday of Princess [Y/N], the beloved jewel of Eldoria.

The marketplace buzzed with excitement. Merchants called out their wares, offering trinkets and sweets crafted in honor of the princess’s special day. Children ran through the cobblestone streets, their laughter mingling with the music played by wandering minstrels. Flowers of every hue adorned the archways, filling the air with a heady perfume that seemed to embody the joy of the kingdom.

In the grand palace atop the hill, the King and Queen were a picture of regal pride. King Takeshi, with his imposing stature and kind, weathered face, stood at the head of the banquet hall, overseeing the preparations for the evening’s feast. Beside him, Queen Sakura, her emerald-green gown flowing like liquid silk, directed the servants with the grace of someone who had long mastered the art of ruling a kingdom with both strength and compassion.

“More lilies on the table,” Sakura said to a nearby servant, her tone gentle but firm. “They’re her favorite.”

Takeshi chuckled, placing a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “If we keep going like this, the entire palace will be a garden by the time she arrives.”

Sakura turned to him with a smile that spoke of decades of partnership. “Our daughter deserves the very best, Takeshi. Let her have her garden for today.”

⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

In her chamber, [Y/N] stood before a tall mirror, her reflection framed by the soft glow of sunlight streaming through the window. She wore a gown of pale gold, the fabric catching the light with every movement. Her long, dark hair was braided intricately, studded with tiny pearls that shimmered like stars.

Her handmaiden, Mira, fussed over the final touches, adjusting the delicate necklace that rested on [Y/N]’s collarbone. “You look like a dream, Your Highness,” Mira said, her eyes sparkling with admiration.

[Y/N]’s cheeks flushed, and she let out a soft laugh. “It’s just another birthday, Mira.”

“Not just any birthday,” Mira corrected. “The whole kingdom is celebrating you today. They love you, Princess. We all do.”

[Y/N] turned to the window, gazing out at the bustling city below. Her heart swelled at the sight of her people’s joy, the very same joy her parents had worked tirelessly to protect and nurture.

“I only hope I can live up to their expectations,” she murmured.

“You will,” Mira said with certainty, not once her admiration towards the princess waver. “You already have.”

⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the palace courtyard transformed into a wonderland of light and sound. Lanterns hung from every tree, their golden glow casting a magical ambiance over the gathering. Long tables were laden with an array of dishes—roasted meats, honey-glazed pastries, and fruits so vibrant they seemed plucked from a dream. Goblets of sparkling cider clinked together as laughter filled the air.

[Y/N] sat at the head of the grand table beside her parents, her face radiant with happiness. Her father raised a toast, his voice booming with pride.

“To Princess [Y/N],” Takeshi declared, “the light of our lives and the future of Eldoria!”

The crowd erupted into cheers, their voices echoing through the courtyard. [Y/N] felt a blush rise to her cheeks as she raised her own goblet, smiling at the faces that had gathered to celebrate her.

Midway through the feast, a group of children approached the royal table, their tiny hands clutching garlands of flowers they had woven themselves. The youngest, a girl no older than seven, stepped forward hesitantly, her wide eyes fixed on [Y/N].

“Princess [Y/N],” the girl said, her voice trembling with both fear and excitement, “happy birthday. We made these for you.”

[Y/N] knelt to their level, her smile warm and genuine. “Thank you,” she said, accepting the garlands with care. “They’re beautiful. Just like all of you.”

The children beamed, their nervousness fading. Another girl, slightly older, spoke up. “When we grow up, we want to be just like you, Princess. Kind and beautiful.”

[Y/N]’s heart swelled with emotion. “You are already beautiful,” she said, her voice soft but firm. “And if you keep kindness in your hearts, you’ll be even more than you dream of.”

The children giggled, their faces alight with joy, before running back into the crowd. [Y/N] watched them go, her chest tight with a mix of love and responsibility.

As the night wore on, the celebration showed no signs of slowing. Music played, couples danced, and laughter rang out into the cool night air. [Y/N] felt as though the world was wrapped in a cocoon of light and warmth, untouched by anything dark or cruel.

But beyond the glow of the lanterns, the shadows of the night stretched long and deep. And far away, an army marched under the cover of darkness, their purpose as unyielding as the steel of their blades.

⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

The peace of Eldoria shattered like fragile glass under the weight of a nightmare. While the kingdom celebrated, unaware of the looming threat, shadows crept closer—an army of vengeance cloaked in the night.

The attack began with terrifying precision. Arrows lit with fire streaked across the sky, igniting the city’s gates and towers. Explosions rocked the walls of the once-impenetrable fortress, and screams of panic replaced the joyful music of the festivities.

Satoru Gojo’s forces swept through Eldoria like a relentless storm, sparing no one in their path. The guards, caught off guard and drunk from the celebrations, scrambled to organize a defense, but it was futile. Satoru had planned every detail, exploiting the kingdom’s arrogance and overconfidence.

In the throne room, King Takeshi and Queen Sakura received the news with dread. The royal guards burst into the hall, their faces pale and weapons drawn.

“My King, the city is under attack!” one guard shouted.

Takeshi rose from his seat, his commanding presence faltering for the first time in years. “How is this possible? Eldoria’s walls have never been breached!”

“It’s… it’s an army, Your Majesty,” the guard stammered. “Led by… by Satoru Gojo.”

Sakura gasped, her hand flying to her chest. The name was a ghost from their past, a shadow of the sins they thought buried.

Takeshi turned to his wife, his face grim. “Take [Y/N] to safety. Now.”

“No,” Sakura said firmly, tears pooling in her eyes. “Not without you.”

“We don’t have time to argue,” Takeshi snapped. “She’s our daughter, Sakura. If we fall, she must survive.”

The queen nodded, swallowing her grief. She summoned two trusted servants and gripped her daughter’s shoulders, her emerald eyes searching [Y/N]’s face.

“You must go,” Sakura said, her voice trembling but resolute. “Do not look back, no matter what happens.”

“Mother, Father—what’s happening?” [Y/N]’s voice quivered with fear, her gaze darting between them. “I don’t understand!”

“There’s no time to explain,” Takeshi said, pulling her into a brief but fierce embrace. “Just know that we love you more than anything.”

The throne room doors burst open with a thunderous crash, shards of wood scattering across the marble floor. Satoru Gojo entered, flanked by his soldiers, his presence a storm that sucked all warmth from the room. The gilded splendor of Eldoria’s throne room now felt suffocating, as if even the air recoiled from his fury.

Takeshi rose to his full height, his sword in hand, his face a mask of grim determination. “Satoru Gojo,” he said, his voice steady despite the tremor in his hand. “You dare invade my kingdom?”

“Your kingdom,” Satoru echoed, his tone a venomous mockery. His piercing blue eyes locked onto Takeshi with an intensity that made even the guards falter. “You speak as though you’ve forgotten the blood spilled to build it. My people’s blood.”

Sakura stepped forward, her voice trembling but firm. “We gave you mercy, Satoru. We could have done worse.”

“Mercy?” Satoru barked, his laughter sharp and bitter. “You razed my home, butchered my family, and called it mercy? No, Queen Sakura. Tonight, I show you what true mercy looks like.”

With that, he unsheathed his blade, the sound like a serpent’s hiss.

The clash was immediate and brutal. Takeshi charged first, his sword aimed straight for Satoru’s heart. Satoru sidestepped effortlessly, his movements fluid, almost graceful. Their blades met in a violent symphony of steel, sparks flying with every strike.

“You’ve grown old, Takeshi,” Satoru sneered, his voice laced with disdain. “And weak.”

Takeshi’s strikes grew desperate, his swings fueled by fury and fear. Sakura joined the fray, her dagger slicing through the air as she aimed for Satoru’s side. He caught her wrist mid-thrust, his grip ironclad.

“You fight well for a queen,” he said mockingly, his voice low. “But not well enough.”

With a savage twist, he disarmed her, sending the dagger clattering across the floor. Takeshi lunged again, but Satoru parried with a brutal counterstrike that sent the king stumbling.

“You stole everything from me!” Satoru roared, his voice cracking with raw emotion. “My family. My home. My future!”

With one final, devastating blow, he drove his blade through Takeshi’s chest. The king’s gasp was a guttural sound, his body collapsing to the floor. Sakura let out a piercing scream, her grief palpable as she knelt beside her fallen husband.

Tears streaked her face as she turned to Satoru, her voice breaking. “You monster… You’ll pay for this.”

Satoru���s gaze softened for a fleeting moment—a flicker of hesitation, almost imperceptible. Then it hardened again. “Not before you do.”

With a cold, calculated strike, he ended her life. The queen fell beside her king, their blood pooling together on the marble floor.

“Find the princess,” Satoru commanded, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade. “Bring her to me.”

Suguru Geto nodded, his loyalty unwavering. But deep down, he feels and immense satisfaction as Eldoria falls into shamble. “It will be done.”

⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

The echoes of battle still roared outside the palace walls as [Y/N] stumbled through the labyrinthine passages beneath the throne room. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her legs trembling with every step. The distant sound of screams and clashing steel filled her ears, a horrifying symphony of chaos.

“Why?” she whispered to herself, her voice choked with tears. “What is happening?”

The once-familiar corridors now felt like a maze, every shadow a potential threat. Her mind raced, her thoughts a whirlwind of terror and confusion. She clutched the edges of her gown, lifting it as she ran, the hem already stained with soot and blood.

She thought of her parents, of her mother’s trembling hands as she pushed her toward the secret passage. “Go, [Y/N]. Don’t look back.” But she had looked back. She had seen the terror in her father’s eyes, the way he gripped his sword as if it were the only thing keeping him upright.

The guards found her before she could escape. Their heavy footsteps echoed like drumbeats, and their shadows loomed over her before their hands did. She screamed, her voice raw and hoarse, thrashing against their grip.

“Let me go!” she cried, her nails clawing at their arms. “Please, let me go!”

Her pleas fell on deaf ears. They dragged her back to the throne room, her heels scraping against the marble, leaving faint streaks behind.

The throne room was drenched in the stench of death and fire. The once-grand marble floor, now smeared with blood and ash, bore the marks of a kingdom’s final battle. Flames danced along the shredded remains of Eldoria’s banners, casting eerie shadows on the ruined walls.

Satoru Gojo stood at the center of the devastation, his piercing blue eyes cold and unyielding. In his hand, he gripped the bloodied hilt of his sword, its tip resting against the cracked crest of Eldoria carved into the marble. The bodies of King Takeshi and Queen Sakura lay crumpled before the throne, their faces frozen in expressions of defiance even in death.

“Bring her here,” Satoru commanded, his voice a sharp, merciless blade.

[Y/N] was dragged into the room, her delicate frame barely able to hold itself upright as the soldiers flung her onto the bloodstained floor. Her golden hair spilled across her face as she gasped, her body trembling from the cold reality sinking into her bones.

Her wide emerald eyes darted around, desperate to make sense of the chaos. Then they found them—her parents.

“No,” she choked out, her voice barely above a whisper. She scrambled forward on her hands and knees, her fingers trembling as they reached for the lifeless forms of her mother and father.

“No! Mama! Papa!” she screamed, the sound raw and piercing as it echoed through the ruined hall.

Satoru stepped closer, his boots crushing glass and debris beneath their weight. He grabbed her by the arm, yanking her to her feet with little regard for her struggle.

“Look at them,” he ordered, his voice a venomous snarl. He twisted her toward the lifeless bodies. “Look at the price they’ve paid for their sins.”

“No!” [Y/N] shrieked, trying to turn away, to shut out the sight. But Satoru’s iron grip held her firm, forcing her to confront the horror before her.

“They loved you, didn’t they?” he hissed, his voice dripping with scorn. “So much that they thought their lies and their tyranny wouldn’t catch up to them. But love doesn’t erase blood spilled in greed.”

Her knees buckled, but he held her upright, dragging her closer to the throne where their blood pooled. “You think they were heroes,” he spat, his fury unrelenting. “They weren’t. They were thieves, murderers who cloaked themselves in righteousness. They stole everything from me—my family, my home, my people.”

Tears streamed down her face as she shook her head vehemently. “They weren’t like that! You’re lying! They were good—”

“Good?” Satoru cut her off, his laugh harsh and bitter. He leaned closer, his face mere inches from hers. “Do you know what it feels like to watch your parents die while your home burns around you? To hear the screams of your people as they’re slaughtered?”

Her sobs grew louder, her breaths coming in shallow gasps as she trembled in his grip. “I didn’t know,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I didn’t know any of it…”

“And that makes you innocent?” he growled, shaking her slightly as his rage flared. “You were their legacy. Their pride. Their perfect little princess. And now you’ll carry their sins.”

He shoved her down with brutal force, and she collapsed onto the marble floor, her cries echoing through the room.

[Y/N] raised her tear-streaked face, her eyes blazing despite her fear. “Then kill me,” she said, her voice breaking but filled with defiance. “Kill me and let this end.”

Satoru stared at her, his jaw tightening. “You think death is the end?” he said coldly, his lips curling into a sneer. “No. Death is a release you don’t deserve.”

He straightened, towering over her trembling form. His voice boomed through the hall, leaving no room for doubt.

“You will live,” he declared, his tone filled with ruthless finality. “You will suffer. You will know what it means to lose everything. You will be my wife—not as a queen, but as a prisoner. A tool for my revenge.”

[Y/N]’s breath caught, her eyes widening in horror. “No… you can’t…”

“I can. And I will,” Satoru said, his gaze icy and unrelenting. “Take her to the dungeons. Prepare for the wedding.”

As she was dragged away, her desperate cries filled the air, but Satoru didn’t flinch. His resolve was ironclad, his vengeance complete. Yet, as he turned to the throne, the ache in his chest deepened. The throne was his, the kingdom had fallen, but the weight of his fury burned hotter than ever.

An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. Satoru muttered the ancient proverb under his breath as he starred at the downfall of Eldoria yet his mind was elsewhere.  Replaying the events of that fateful night over and over. The crack of gunfire. His parents’ cry, cut short. The spray of blood, shockingly bright against the moonlit snow.

He had made a vow then, kneeling in that crimson slush. A promise sealed in blood and grief. And now, after years of meticulous planning, the time had finally come to fulfill it.

⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

[Y/N]’s cries echoed down the dim, narrow corridor as she was dragged away, her steps faltering as the weight of her despair crushed her spirit. The iron grip of Satoru’s men was unyielding, and the golden hem of her once-pristine gown trailed behind her, smeared with soot and blood.

Back in the shattered throne room, silence lingered like a curse over the court of Eldoria. The remaining nobles—those who had survived the massacre—stood frozen, their faces pale with fear. Among them were aging advisors, loyal knights stripped of their swords, and trembling maids clutching the remnants of their courage.

Satoru, towering over them, his icy gaze sharp as a blade, raised his hand to command their attention. His voice was calm, yet the power it carried was absolute. “Eldoria is mine,” he began, each word falling like a hammer blow. “Its throne, its lands, and its people—all belong to me now. Your king and queen have paid the price for their sins.”

He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. Then, with a cruel smirk tugging at his lips, he turned to Suguru, who stood nearby with a confident and unwavering demeanor. “But there remains one final stain on this land that must be cleansed. Atonement requires sacrifice.”

The nobles exchanged wary glances, the growing tension almost unbearable. Whispers of rebellion flared among the younger knights, but an icy glare from Suguru silenced them all.

Satoru continued, his tone laced with venom. “Princess [Y/N], the last of Eldoria’s wretched lineage, will atone for the sins of her bloodline in the only way fitting.” His voice grew louder, carrying authority and cruelty in equal measure. “She will marry me.”

Gasps rippled through the room like a storm, horror etched onto every face. The princess—their beloved [Y/N]—forced to marry the man who had torn their world apart?

One noble, braver—or perhaps more foolish—than the rest, stepped forward, his trembling voice barely audible. “My lord, surely… surely you do not mean this. The princess is innocent—”

“Innocent?” Satoru’s laughter rang out, sharp and biting, as he descended the steps of the dais. His piercing gaze locked onto the man, who visibly withered under the weight of it. “Innocence does not absolve her of the blood in her veins. She bears the mark of her parents’ greed. Their sins will be her burden to carry.”

Satoru’s hand clenched into a fist as his tone grew colder. “And through her suffering, the stain they left on this world will be erased.”

Suguru stepped forward then, his voice calm but lethal. “She is no longer your princess,” he declared, his hand resting purposefully on the hilt of his sword. “She is the bride of your king. Speak against this, and you speak against your ruler.”

The murmurs of protest died instantly. Fear gripped the room like a vice, choking out any hope of rebellion.

Satoru turned back to the trembling crowd, his next words cutting through the air like ice. “The wedding will be held under the crimson moon—an omen befitting the union of blood and vengeance. Eldoria will bear witness to its new queen's sacrifice.”

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