#coronation processions

[worstloki]

there is a difference between being born to a throne, maliciously vying for a throne, stealing a throne, and having a throne thrust upon you when you are already in the midst of an identity crisis. And I fear Loki's place in the line of succession has people unable to differentiate between any of these

[grandmaster-anne]

‼ WATCH IT BEFORE IT GETS TAKEN DOWN ‼

26 December 2023 Charles III: The Coronation Year © BBC

[therovers]

gonna tell my kids this was the thursday murder club

[aubrittigan]

Torn on coloring this digitally vs inking it like my old notecards. I think I’ll try pen, if there are any left that haven’t dried up.

Not super happy with it but maybe it’ll look better with ink. And hey it’s just a doodle so who actually cares if it’s that good (me, I do—)

[aimeedaisies]

The Coronation Procession

This week I spent a few days in London, so I decided to walk the route that the newly coronated King Charles III and Queen Camilla will take, called the Coronation Procession! The Kings Procession, before the service is this route, just in reverse. I took pictures of the highlights of the route, it will definitely be something to look back on in the future!

Westminster Abbey

Founded in 960 and consecrated in 1065, Westminster Abbey, has seen the coronations of 39 English and British monarchs and 16 royal weddings and is the burial site for 18 English, Scottish and British monarchs.

Whitehall, Downing Street and Horse Guards Parade

Whitehall is recognised as the centre of the Government of the United Kingdom and is lined with numerous departments and ministries, including the Ministry of Defence, Horse Guards and the Cabinet Office. The Palace of Whitehall previously occupied the area and was the residence of Kings Henry VIII through to William III, before it was destroyed by fire in 1698; only the Banqueting House has survived. As well as government buildings, the street is known for its memorial statues and monuments, including the UK's primary war memorial, the Cenotaph and the Women of World War Two memorial.

Downing Street was built in the 1680s by Sir George Downing. For more than three hundred years, it has held the official residences of both the First Lord of the Treasury, the office now synonymous with that of the Prime Minister, and the Second Lord of the Treasury, the office held by the Chancellor of the Exchequer. The Prime Minister's official residence is 10 Downing Street, and the Chancellor's official residence is Number 11. The government's Chief Whip has an official residence at Number 12. In practice, these office-holders may live in different flats; the current Chief Whip actually lives at Number 9.

Horse Guards Parade is a large parade ground off Whitehall. It is the site of the annual ceremonies of Trooping the Colour, which commemorates the monarch's official birthday, and the Beating Retreat. Horse Guards Parade was formerly the site of the Palace of Whitehall's tiltyard, where tournaments (including jousting) were held in the time of Henry VIII. It was also the scene of annual celebrations of the birthday of Queen Elizabeth I. The procession will go past the entrance, not onto the parade ground.

Trafalgar Square and the Equestrian Statue of King Charles I

The square is named after the Battle of Trafalgar, a British naval victory in the Napoleonic Wars with France and Spain that took place on 21 October 1805 off the coast of Cape Trafalgar, southwest Spain. In the centre of the square is Nelson's Column built to commemorate Vice-Admiral Horatio Nelson's decisive victory at the Battle of Trafalgar over the combined French and Spanish navies, during which he lost his life. The monument was constructed between 1840 and 1843 to a design by William Railton. The statue of Nelson was carved from Craigleith sandstone by sculptor Edward Hodges Baily. The four bronze lions around its base, designed by Sir Edwin Landseer, were added in 1867.

The equestrian statue of Charles I is a work by the French sculptor Hubert Le Sueur, probably cast in 1633. It is considered the central point of London. Its location at Charing Cross is on the former site of the most elaborate of the Eleanor crosses erected by Edward I (one of 12, to commemorate his late wife, put in location throughout the route of her funeral procession stops back to London). The statue faces down Whitehall towards Charles I's place of execution at Banqueting House. It was commissioned by Charles's Lord High Treasurer Richard Weston for the garden of his country house in Roehampton, Surrey. Following the English Civil War the statue was sold to a metalsmith to be broken down, but he hid it until the Restoration. It was installed in its current, far more prominent location in the centre of London in 1675, and the elaborately carved plinth dates from that time.

Admiralty Arch

Admiralty Arch was commissioned by King Edward VII in memory of his mother, Queen Victoria, and designed by Aston Webb, who also designed the Victoria Memorial and the new façade of Buckingham Palace at the other end of the Mall. It once served as residence of the First Sea Lord and was used by the Admiralty.

The Mall, St James Palace and Clarence House

The Mall is the long red coloured road joining Admiralty Arch and Buckingham Palace. It has seen several huge celebrations such as Victory in Europe Day (8 May 1945), lots of state visits, parades and Jubilee celebrations. When the royal family stand on the balcony of Buckingham Palace, The Mall is packed from top to bottom of vast crowds. The surface of The Mall is coloured red to give the effect of a giant red carpet leading up to Buckingham Palace. This colour was obtained using synthetic iron oxide pigment.

St James's Palace is the most senior royal palace in London. It is the ceremonial meeting place of the Accession Council, the office of the Marshal of the Diplomatic Corps, as well as the London residence of Princess Anne, the Princess Royal and her husband, The Duke and Duchess of Edinburgh, Princess Beatrice and Princess Alexandra. The Proclamation Gallery (pictured above) is a part of St James's Palace, and it is used after the death of a reigning monarch. The Accession Council meets to declare the new monarch. Once the monarch has made a sacred oath to the council, the Garter King of Arms steps onto the Proclamation Gallery, which overlooks Friary Court to proclaim the new monarch.

Clarence House currently serves as the London residence of King Charles III and Queen Camilla. It has been Charles's residence since 2003. From 1953 until 2002 it was home to Queen Elizabeth The Queen Mother, and before her, it was the official home of her daughter, Princess Elizabeth, the future Queen Elizabeth II.

The Queen Victoria Memorial

The Queen Victoria monument and surrounding gardens were created between 1904 and 1924. The main statue was unveiled by King George V. As well as Victoria, there are statues representing courage, constancy, victory, charity, truth and motherhood. In summer the flower beds are filled with geraniums, spider plants, salvias and weeping figs. Scarlet geraniums are used to match the tunics of The Queen's Guard at Buckingham Palace. In winter time the beds are filled with about 50,000 yellow wallflowers and red tulips.

Buckingham Palace

Buckingham Palace has served as the official London residence of the UK’s sovereigns since 1837. Buckingham Palace has 775 rooms. These include 19 State rooms, 52 Royal and guest bedrooms, 188 staff bedrooms, 92 offices and 78 bathrooms. King George III bought Buckingham House in 1761 for his wife Queen Charlotte to use as a comfortable family home close to St James's Palace, where many court functions were held. Buckingham House became known as the Queen's House, and 14 of George III's 15 children were born there. Queen Victoria was the first sovereign to take up residence in July 1837 and in June 1838 she was the first British sovereign to leave from Buckingham Palace for a Coronation. Her marriage to Prince Albert in 1840 soon showed up the Palace's shortcomings. A serious problem for the newly married couple was the absence of any nurseries (for her nine children) and too few bedrooms for visitors. The only solution was to move the Marble Arch - it now stands at the north-east corner of Hyde Park - and build a fourth wing, thereby creating a quadrangle. The cost of the new wing was largely covered by the sale of George IV's Royal Pavilion at Brighton.

I then walked past the Royal Mews, where the Gold State Coach is being prepared for the Coronation. Then onto Hyde Park, then Kensington Gardens and finally Kensington Palace, which is the official London residence of the Prince and Princess of Wales and their children, the Duke and Duchess of Gloucester and the Duke of Kent. I then treated myself to a scrummy yet expensive piece of lemon cake from the Prada cafè in Harrods 🍰😋

information from wikipedia, royal parks and the royal family website

[sapphic-bombshell-vixen]

I have very low expectations for this soap opera, especially after being let down by previous storylines such as Charity and Vanessa's in which a promising wedding was scrapped due to Covid and replaced with a ridiculous robot plot, not to mention disappointing arcs in Holby City, EastEnders, Hollyoaks, and Skins UK. However, Alison King and Vicky Myers have already captivated me, suggesting a thrilling journey ahead and I'm ready for a wild ride - They could decide to bring back Lisa's late wife or have Peter return from his yacht trip, and while the ending will probably be terrible, I don’t care because they’re both beautiful.

[postcard-from-the-past]

Procession on the streets of London, England, during the coronation of King George V and Queen Mary in 1911

French vintage postcard

[thepastisalreadywritten]

His Majesty King Charles III has presented new standards and colours to the Royal Navy, the Household Cavalry Mounted Regiment and Grenadier Guards from the British Army, and the Royal Air Force in Buckingham Palace last week.

As the nation prepares to celebrate the Coronation of His Majesty The King, we dive into the British Army’s contribution to the big day’s pomp and ceremony you may not be familiar with.

Gold Stick in Waiting

A prominent role on 6 May will be played by Lieutenant General Sir Edward Smyth-Osbourne KCVO CBE, Colonel, The Life Guards and Gold Stick in Waiting.

This senior Army officer will ride on the wheels of the Gold State Coach during the Procession from Buckingham Palace to Westminster Abbey.

Gold Stick in Waiting was created because of a conspiracy during the reign of Henry VIII, when the King was supposed to be in danger.

A trusted courtier was ordered to always be by the King’s side, carrying an ebony staff with a gold head.

On the Restoration in 1660, this task fell to the Colonel of The Life Guards.

A second Army officer, Silver Stick, was also placed close to the sovereign as Gold Stick’s deputy to protect the King or Queen from danger.

The role of Gold Stick, now only demonstrated on ceremonial and state occasions, is held jointly by the Colonels of the Life Guards and the Blues and Royals, taking it in turns by monthly rota, both being Regiments of the Household Cavalry of the Household Division.

The Silver Stick is the Commander of the Household Cavalry, who holds the rank of colonel and oversees all Household Cavalry duties for the sovereign.

After the new King has been crowned at Westminster Abbey, the role of Gold Stick in Waiting will be played by The Colonel of The Life Guards, as it is their Sovereign’s Standard on parade.

The Princess Royal will ride on horseback behind the Gold State Coach back to Buckingham Palace as Colonel of the Blues and Royals and senior Colonel of all The Household Division Regiments.

Anointing Screen Bearers

Six members of the Army’s Household Division will carry out the sacred duty of carrying the Anointing Shrine/Screen that will cover and protect the Sovereign and Queen Consort while sacred oils are applied by the Archbishop of Canterbury in Westminster Abbey during the Coronation service.

Colours

All British Army units taking part in the Coronation Procession will proudly carry their Colours, Standards or Guidons.

Infantry Colours are among the most sacred symbols of the British Army. These flags embody the honour, spirit and heritage of the regiments that proudly carry them.

Historically, the practice of carrying Colours, Standards or Guidons served to act as a rallying point for troops in the smoke and fog of battle.

British and Commonwealth infantry regiments usually have two colours, collectively called a stand.

The King's/Queen’s Colour is typically a union flag trimmed with gold fabric and with the regiment's insignia in the centre.

It reminds all ranks of their loyalty and duty to their sovereign.

The Regimental Colour is a flag of a single colour - usually the colour of the regiment's uniform facings (collar, lapels and cuffs) - again trimmed and with the insignia in the centre.

Handmade from precious silks, silver and gilt threads, the Colours are used on the regiment's most important occasions and bear the battle honours, or those inherited from its predecessors, and symbols of the battalions.

Standards and Guidons

In the British Army’s cavalry units, the King’s Cavalry Standard and the Regimental Standard (for the heavy cavalry) and the King’s Cavalry Standard and Regimental Guidons (for the light cavalry) are the equivalents to Infantry Colours.

The two units that make up the Household Cavalry have their own unique Standards.

The Life Guards only carry the King’s Standard, whereas the Blues and Royals carry the King’s Standard and may carry the regimental Guidon.

The Standard is “senior” to a colour or guidon.

In the past, Cavalry would bear Guidons, which are smaller and lighter for carrying into battle on horseback.

In contrast, Infantry, who traditionally fought on foot, have the larger, heavier Colours, which are more easily seen from the ground.

The Sovereign’s Standard of the Life Guards is made of silk damask, with gold thread embroidery and fringe.

It bears the Royal Arms and the battle honours of the Regiment.

Queen’s Truncheon

Proudly marching down The Mall with all other British Army units during the Coronation Procession will be soldiers from The Royal Gurkha Rifles (RGR).

However, unlike their fellow service men and women carrying Colours, Standards and Guidons, the soldiers from Nepal will carry a ceremonial staff, known as the Queen’s Truncheon.

This serves as the equivalent of and is carried as the Regimental Colour.

The staff originates in the Indian Mutiny during 1857-8 when the Sirmoor Battalion (which later became the 2nd KEO Goorkhas, 2 GR) remained loyal to the British Crown.

The Battalion, together with the Guides and the 60th Rifles, held a key position for over three months of constant attack, suffering 327 casualties out of a total strength of 490.

After the mutiny, the 2nd Goorkhas were designated as a Rifle Regiment as a mark of the bond created with the 60th Rifles.

Queen Victoria directed the Battalion be awarded a special truncheon to replace the Regimental Colours that could no longer be carried by a Rifle Regiment.

The ornate Gurkha Truncheon was given to the Rifles by order of Queen Victoria in 1863.

Also known as ‘Nishani Mai’, meaning symbol of the great mother, the Queen’s Truncheon was carried by 2 GR until The Royal Gurkha Rifles were formed in 1994, when it was laid up.

The Queen’s Truncheon remains in service with The RGR and is still accorded the honours due to a Queen’s Colour of Infantry.

The Queen’s Truncheon was also on parade during the 1953 Coronation of Queen Elizabeth II.

This was the first time the Truncheon was presented to the sovereign. It was then presented a further seven times with the last being in 2019.

Military music

Bands from the Royal Corps of Army Music will perform on 6 May, with a 50-piece mounted band of musicians from The Band of the Household Cavalry leading the Coronation procession.

Four State Trumpeters from the Band of the Household Cavalry will perform fanfares in Westminster Abbey for the Coronation Service.

The State Trumpeters are professional musicians from the Royal Corps of Army Music and uniquely have to attend military riding school before being selected for a role in which they will have had to memorise up to 22 different fanfares.

Bands from the Foot Guards will be positioned throughout the procession and at key points along the route to keep the procession to time and to entertain the crowds.

During the coronation procession, the British Army Band Colchester will perform as a massed band with British Army Band Sandhurst.

Garrison Sergeant Major Andrew Stokes will be at the side of the Gold State Coach and will have the key role of stepping off the procession from his position in Parliament Square.

He has designed a method of uniting all 19 processional bands to strike up at the same time and maintain a constant beat, whilst playing the same bar, with bands separated by distance across a procession group over a mile long.

Bands from the Royal Corps of Army Music deliver musical support to the Army and across Defence, as well as supporting State ceremonial occasions such as the King’s Coronation.

During the coronavirus pandemic, the Army’s bands helped to raise morale by performing at major national events, including VE and VJ Day, the Queen’s Birthday, national Acts of Remembrance, and New Year’s Eve TV celebrations. 

The Royal Corps of Army Music also released free to download music for public enjoyment, online tutorials for aspiring musicians and virtual masterclass workshops for schoolchildren.

[king0fcrows]

.

[spill-your-guts]

manifesting charles dying in edinburgh

[clockworktea]

seeing as I am currently a citizen of the UK and spitting mad about this:

I owe no allegiance or obedience to that line of smug entitled parasites, and even if I did think that way before the fact that they are spending tens to hundreds of millions on a party to celebrate how important they are in a time like this and plastering that arrogant grinning face everywhere would be enough to break me of it

we live in a goddamn democracy the only thing I owe him is to apparently restrain myself from throwing eggs in his face in the street

[imkeepinit]

The Coronation Procession, Hyde Park (1953) by Stanley Clare Grayson

[grandmaster-anne]

6 May 2023 The King's Procession

[anderstrevelyan]

Why am I just noticing months later that Blaze Elin (who lets you over the bridge into Wyrm's Rock) confirms I was right in a single sentence??

Why has no one ever told me this???

Gortash murders the Parliament of Peers.

Have you ever wondered exactly what's going on with all the dead bodies in the Wyrm's Rock audience hall, if you leave and come back after Gortash's coronation?

I did some in-game research while working on a fic recently, and in the name of sparing anyone else from having to lay all this out, too—here's a list of the victims, and some notes-based educated guessing on Gortash's motivation here.

(Beyond Iron Counsul Nuff's summary in the screenshot above: "My lord requires a clear path to his magnificent future. We cut away the troublesome bramble.")

Lord Petric Amber

Lord Amber's Bodyguard

Lady Ailis Belt

Lady Haeril Birch

Baron Callem Bormul

Lady Alia Durinbold

Lady Durinbold's Bodyguard

Lady Durinbold's Attendant

Lord Sarken Eomane

Admiral Peil Hullhollyn

Lady Winstra Hullhollyn

Lord Raylen Jannath

Lord Jannath's Bodyguard

Duke Dillard Portyr

Lord Portyr's Attendant

Lord Portyr's Bodyguard

Lady Beatrice Provoss

Lord Myer Ravenshade

Lady Silifrey Sashenstar

Lord Rugger Shattershield

Lord Shattershield's Bodyguard

Lord Shattershield's Attendant

Lord Milton Tillerturn

Lord Randolf Vammas

Lady Madeline Whitburn

9 Unnamed Patriars

First I'll note that not everyone you see lingering after the coronation ends up dead: I could talk to Lady Eshvelt Guthmere, Lady Ruth Linnacker, and Lady Freida Oberon, and their bodies aren't present in the hall later.

It also doesn't seem to be connected to vocalizing support for Gortash or not—you can overhear Portyr and Shattershield challenging him in the ambient dialogue after the coronation, but when you walk around and talk to everyone else the only one who has anything negative to say is Silifrey Sashenstar. Everyone else on the list above sings Gortash's praises.

So, here's what I think it is!

In the corner of the audience hall, you can find this note:

The Parliament of Peers is the body that's responsible for electing new dukes, and they held a formal vote to raise Gortash as Archduke and dissolve their own political body. Note the numbers: there's 23 members.

So who are these members? Up in Gortash's study, you can find this note discussing bribing, blackmailing, and threatening members of the Peers, which gives us the names of eight:

Five of these eight end up dead in the audience hall (Portyr, Jannath, Whitburn, Sashenstar, and Eomane).

As for the three Peers listed who don't end up in dead in the hall—Lady Ruth Linnacker, Lord Hir Rillyn, and Lady Haeril Vanthampur—let's look to this note:

Gortash has leverage against Ruth Linnacker through the abduction of her granddaughter, and I don't think it's unfair to assume Hir Rillyn and Haeril Vanthampur are similarly under Gortash's control, whether tadpoled or blackmailed (this is the one big assumption I had to make—bear with me!).

The other two with non-murderous leverage against them in the note above do end up dead, but I think there's some added context: I imagine Raylen Jannath is the husband of Wisteria Jannath, who Gortash canonically had an affair with (maybe it's personal? Maybe Raylen didn't care enough about the leverage of his own affair, if he knew she'd had one too?). For Portyr, there's the following in Gortash's study, noting he considers him a threat that shouldn't be underestimated, so he may not have wanted to stop at threats:

The inclusion of Portyr on the list of eight Peers could imply that the other three dukes are members of the Parliament of Peers, too. There's a book in Franc Peartree's house about the current state of who the dukes are, which I don't have my own screenshot of, but here's the relevant text from the wiki:

We know Belynne Stelmane is dead as part of the Bhaalist plot. Ulder Ravengard is tadpoled. The fourth duke was Thalamra Vanthampur, who's dead. They were waiting to replace her until Ravengard was found or confirmed gone—and Gortash was given this seat.

So, back to the original list of people murdered after the coronation. I bolded the names of those who aren't seemingly collateral damage (the bodyguards and attendants, and the unnamed patriars): there's 17.

17 killed after the coronation

Plus three Peers controlled through blackmail or other means

Plus Duke Stelmane and Duke Ravengard, dead and tadpoled respectively

That adds up to 22.

Add in Gortash's own vote, which he would have from taking (Thalamra) Vanthampur's seat, and you get 23.

The same number as the members of the Parliament of Peers.

Gortash didn't just orchestrate the Peers naming him the city's first Archduke, and he didn't just influence them to dissolve the political body that could vote another duke in. He made sure the individuals were destroyed, too.

[chaussetteblanche]

and they were roommates pt. 2

pairing : Spencer Reid x fem!student!roommate!reader summary : the BAU team works the case, you get to help word count : 2.3k warning : canon-typical violence, mention of violence and sexual violence A/N : thank you all so much for all the love on part 1 of this !!! I love getting feedback, it's incredibly motivating ! I will probably do a part 3 :)) Also, my cat is sitting next to me as I write this, which I find quite funny

part 1, part 3, part 4

Back at the police station, Spencer had trouble focusing on the case. His mind kept wandering over to you, wondering what you were doing, how you were doing. He was on edge and the entire team could feel it. Hotch pulled him to the side to ask him if he wanted to give you a phone call. Reid refused, but settled on sending you a text, something he never usually did while working. Something he never usually did because he wasn't the biggest fan of technology and also because he couldn't decipher how you were actually feeling without hearing your voice and all the quirks in the way you spoke which gave away your real feelings.

Sent by Dr. Ironed Socks : < Hey. How are you doing? > Sent by You : < Ok, I'm having a tea on the couch. Geoff is in REM sleep on my lap. Thx for checking <3 >

Your text was followed by a pixelly picture of your slightly overweight (Spencer couldn't use that term to describe Geoffrey around you or you'd get upset) orange cat sprawled out on your lap, legs and arms askew, fast asleep. Spencer felt a small wave of relief spread through him. You were okay for now. Geoffrey was looking after you. Later, he'd help you process and give you all the tools necessary to get over such a traumatic event and move on. It was almost as if that was in his job description.

Returning to the room where the BAU team had settled in, Spencer sent Hotch a grateful nod. Hotch moved his lips in what resembled a small smile, Reid couldn't be sure. "Okay," Garcia's voice resounded from the speaker sitting in the middle of the round table, "I've contacted all of Mary Goldman's professors and it turns out she didn't go to class today. Her first class was at 11:30 but she never showed up." "None of the students we interrogated on campus had seen her after 10:15," Emily spoke up. "Spencer's roommate saw her between 10:30 and 11:00," Rossi intervened. "Okay, we'll get her to come in," Hotch affirmed. Spencer's whole body tensed. You had been the last person to see the victim. His mind was so busy reeling, thinking about everything you'd have to go through as the most promising witness, that he missed Morgan's question.

"Reid?" Derek raised an eyebrow. "Uh, sorry, what did you say?" "What was the time of death according to the coroner?" "14:30," Rossi answered. "It was 14:26, actually," corrected Reid. Rossi rolled his eyes. "Okay, so the unsub has his victim between around, let's say 11:15, and 14:26," Rossi shot a pointed look at Spencer, "that's about three hours and 11 minutes. In those three hours, he had time to take the victim someplace where neither of them would be seen or heard, beat and sexually assault her, and finally dump her in smack-dab in front of the university." "He's definitely organised and wants to send a message," Emily thought aloud. "But what is he trying to say? Look at what I can do? You can't stop me?" "Friends," interrupted Garcia, "I'm going to need at least some information before I even try to get anything out of a search. He's taking and leaving them on campus, so I'm guessing he doesn't necessarily need a vehicle. Does he live in the area?" "Yes, he's local or knows the area, he knows these women and he most likely knows the campus. Search for white males, early twenties with a record of violence and sexual misconduct. Cross-reference that with victims of reported abuse and sexual abuse in the last twenty five years. Run background checks for all university staff. Also have a look at similar victims and MOs in this area in the last five years. This may not be his first time," spoke Hotch. "On it, I'll get back to you when I've found something." "Thanks, Garcia."

You'd taken a shower as soon as you'd arrived home. The water was too hot and you'd scrubbed your skin too hard but getting out, you felt a slight bit better. Heavily disliking the way you still felt, you opted for a cup of Earl Grey tea with milk and sugar. Settling on the couch with a steaming cup in your hands, you tucked your legs beneath you and sighed.

Images of Mary's dead body were printed onto the inside of your eyelids. You still couldn't believe it. Your mind reeled as you tried to think of an explanation for it all. Whichever path you followed, you came up empty. You could not comprehend or imagine any reason of taking the life of an innocent person, especially in such a violent way. Luckily for you, you still didn't know the extent of the violence.

A familiar noise pulled you from your dark thoughts. Geoffrey had just jumped down from his cat tree. You watched him stretch and languidly walk over to you. He meowed once before jumping onto the couch, right next to you. You moved your legs so that you were sitting cross-legged and scratched his head. He purred in delight and pressed himself against you. He sniffed at your tea with an unimpressed look before climbing into your lap before letting himself flop down on his side, stretching out his appendages. You cooed as his pink toe-beans stretched too and laid a hand on his belly, scratching gently. The vibrations of his purrs had a calming effect on you. "Are you trying to make me forgive you for biting my ankle the other day when I wouldn't give you any more treats? You know Spencer says you're a bit overweight, I was just trying to get him to stop body-shaming you, my love..."

A few minutes later, you get a text from Spencer. About thirty minutes after that, you get a phone call from him. "Hey, would you mind coming to the station? It turns out you're the last person to have seen the victim."

"I'll do the cognitive interview." "Reid, I don't think that's a good idea." "Look, yes I'm invested, I know that. But I also know her and-" "Reid, no. This is the reason we such have procedures." "But I-" "Reid." Hotchner's tone translated finality. Spencer's shoulders sank in defeat. He had figured that if he had been the one conducting the interview, maybe it would have been less traumatic for you. He hated the idea of not being there for you, with you, during such a trying moment. He bit his bottom lip.

"I'll do it," volunteered Morgan. Reid felt slight comfort at that, Morgan was one of the few people he would entrust his life to. He could entrust you to him for the interview, even if he didn't like it. Hotchner nodded. "Reid, you work with Garcia, focus on finding other victims with the same MO to help build the profile." Reid nodded and went to find his colleagues.

When you entered the police station, it was almost like he could feel your presence. He came to find you straight away, not wanting to leave alone even for a second. "Hey." "Hey." Reid immediately pulled you in for a meaningful embrace, burying his face in your hair. The smell of your shampoo, conditionner and body wash were bliss to his nostrils. They were a promise that you were here, you were safe, you were okay. Morgan watched from afar, a small smile playing at his lips. He knew Reid, and the hug you exchanged was both too hasty and too tight to be anything casual. "Are you okay? I'm so sorry to have to make you come in, but they're going to do- well I wanted to do it but they wouldn't let me, so it's-"

A slightly older, very muscular and gentle man stepped forward, holding out his hand to you. You shook it. "I'm Agent Derek Morgan. I'm one of Spencer's colleagues. I'll be the one conducting the interview, seeing as there's a conflict of interest with you and Spencer. I hope you can understand that." You introduced yourself and looked at Spencer before answering Derek. "Yes, I understand, it's- it's not a problem." "Great, if you could just follow me, please?" You licked your lips and sent Spencer a look, which he answers with a nod of reassurance and a small smile, before following Derek.

"You can close your eyes if it makes you more comfortable." You were sat in an uncomfortable plastic chair. The light above you was ticking at uneven intervals and the room smelt of worry. You didn't know how you could get any more comfortable, but listening to Morgan's even, alto voice helped a bit. "Okay." You closed your eyes. "You told Agent Rossi that you crossed the victim somewhere around quarter to eleven. Is that correct?" "Uh, yes." "Where did you cross her?" "In the main hall." "Where were you going?" "Um, I had just been to the bathroom and I was heading to my Anglo-American Literary Survey class." "Okay, can you describe to me everything about the moment when you crossed the victim? What you saw, what you felt, smelled, heard? Was anything out of the ordinary?" You opened your eyes.

"Um, I'm sorry, but could you stop referring to Mary as the victim, please? She has a name, which is Mary Goldman, and a victim wasn't the only thing she was." Derek was slightly surprised at your comment but understood where you came from. Separating from the name was a way for profilers to gain some distance from the horrendous violence. Personally knowing the victim, you didn't have such luxury. "Of course, I apologise. What did you feel when you crossed Mary? Was anything out of place?"

You nodded in thanks and tried to bring yourself back to that moment. It seemed unreal, how such a small interaction suddenly held such importance. "O-Okay, uh, my hands are still a bit wet. There weren't any towels in the bathroom. I saw her after she saw me and we exchanged a smile. I thought she looked really pretty today, but I didn't tell her. We really don't know each other that well." "Okay, that's good. Was she wearing anything out of habit for her?" "Uhh, no, she was wearing a pleated skirt and a sweater vest. She often dresses like that, I don't know exactly why I thought she looked pretty. I guess she just looked happy. Nothing was out of the ordinary." "Good. Could you hear or smell anything?" "Yeah, well, there were the voices of other people in the hall. I can hear girls laughing. I smell Mary's perfume when she walks past me. She always wears the same one, it's Chanel, Mademoiselle Coco specifically, she told me once at a party."

"Okay, do you know where she's going?" "I- yeah, she's heading for her Behavioural Neuroscience class." "Is she walking in the right direction?" "Uh... Yes, yes, she is. She's not in too much of a hurry, though, she doesn't like the teacher." "So why is she heading there already, then? The class only starts at 11:30." "She likes to reread the material from the previous week before the class starts." "Why doesn't she like the teacher?" "No one does, all he does is read off his slides and he's a jerk when it comes to grading."

Morgan suppressed a smile at your comment. "Okay, thank you so much, Y/N, this was very helpful." "Was it? I didn't feel like-" "Yes, I promise you've just shared some crucial pieces of information." "O-Okay, if you say so."

All eyes were on Morgan as he entered the briefing room. He put his paper coffee cup down on the table and looked at Hotch. "Nothing was out of the ordinary. Mary was wearing habitual clothes and the same perfume she always wore. She was heading to the same class, as she did weekly, at the same time. My guess is this guy knew her routine and did a blitz attack. Y/N gave me the number of Mary's best friend, and according to her, Mary didn't have any guys in her life except for her dad and brother."

Hotchner nodded. Spencer couldn't help but feeling proud of you for being able to go through with the interview and to provide such useful information, too. He'd have to congratulate you when he got home. "Pretty boy and I found three similar victims in the last three years. They weren't connected to this case because they were in another university, just on the other side of the state line. Last year, three girls, university students, were killed, same MO, all disappeared for about three hours before being found dead in front of the university, they attended," Garcia spoke from the speaker. Spencer nodded in agreement to her words. "What did the police find back then?" asked Emily. "Nothing, they- uh, did all they could during the month that the three murders happened but after the third victim, the unsub stopped," Spencer answered. "Stopped?" Emily repeated, brows drawn together in confusion. "Yeah, he just- stopped killing and disappeared. Our best guess is that something triggered him then and that the same thing triggered him now."

"Oh, another thing," Garcia sounded reluctant to share the information she had, "I looked at all the victims' pictures and... well, I'll just send them to you, that'll be easier."

Spencer's blood ran ice cold as he stared at the four girls on the screen. They all looked exactly like you.

Taglist : (all those of you who wanted a part two <3) @princess-ofthe-pages @usuck @theylovemelody @empressgraytea @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @lillianacristina

[yesimwriting]

Midway

a/n a small-ish fic of someone comforting aegon bc i feel bad for him 😭

Summary: You did not choose to be Aegon's wife, and yet you seem to be the only one choosing to be there for him during his recovery.

Warnings/info: forced marriage turned to awkward, subtle pining masquerading as uneasy friendship, vague descriptions of life threatening injuries, canon compliant incest (reader is rhaenyra's daughter)

read part 2 here: A Matter of Timing

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Hushed whispers, as stale and sterile as the fresh gauze being stretched and pulled taut against his skin. The rasp of his breathing scrapes at the air that manages to pull itself into your own lungs.

"It is..." Alicent stalls, her gaze never leaving her eldest son, "A lot, I know." Her eyes are wide, glossier than you've ever seen them. An odd sort of empathy presses itself against your chest, making a full breath feel like even more of a fantasy.

Your sympathies and courteously vague expressions of understanding and mutual hurt are things Alicent has no use for. She's tolerated you like an inherited dress that doesn't quite fit, only begrudgingly acknowledging you when surrounded by family.

These days, her barely there tolerance for you has grown even weaker, considering the reports your handmaid had delivered to you of Alicent's attempts to convince the council to lock you away after your mother's retaliation to Aegon's coronation. An imprisonment only prevented by Aegon's command.

She lets out a breath, her attention briefly dropping to the ground before settling on you. "But you are his wife."

A fact she's only come to accept because of your blood. As Rhaenyra's daughter, your marriage had been a compromise, a final attempt at merging a divided family before your grandsire's passing. If your mother had known how quickly Aegon's supporters would have pushed him towards the throne...

You nod your head slowly, dismissing thoughts of yourself. For the first time since your union, the context of your arrangement does not cloud all else. "Yes."

There had been no attempts made to gloss over the extent of Aegon's injuries. For once, the heart of the Red Keep prioritized reality over projecting strength and invulnerability. The maesters had warned you, had detailed the damages left behind by the flames and the fall. An attack strong enough to kill a dragon.

"I um...I tried to visit him earlier, when he first returned." The surprise of your own honesty is an afterthought, a barely there thing attempting to occupy the little space left in your mind. "They said he was not yet stable."

Alicent is silent, some distant quality hollowing her stare as she watches the maester. His movements are succinct, precise as he quietly instructs a maid to bring him a salve left on the table. How many times in these last few days has he gone through this process? How many more times will a maester need to dress Aegon's wounds and rebandage him?

"Stable seems relative." Alicent blinks, her attention returning to what's directly in front of her. She turns to face you. "I trust that you'll sit with him, keep him company after the maester is finished."

Aegon's thoughts on your company have shifted several times throughout the short time you've been married. He often goes through periods of indifference followed by fleeting displays of interest that feel eerily close to companionship. Not quite a friendship or a romance, but something warm and comfortable. Mutual glances shared over supper, peaceful moments in the hall, occasionally crawling into the other's beds at night like children that cannot find sleep on their own.

Some skeptical part of you wonders if Alicent's sudden interest in your wifely responsibilities has more to do with punishing you than caring for Aegon. You doubt she considers you some great source of comfort in her son's life. At least you don't mind the thought of staying here, away from prying eyes and whispers that your privileges within the Red Keep should be restricted until the realm is no longer so divided. "Of course."

She nods once. "There--there is much to be decided upon in Aegon's absence." Alicent lets out a rigid breath. Perhaps Alicent really does want to know that someone's with Aegon. "I should go."

"I will keep him company, your grace."

With that, Alicent spares Aegon a final glance before turning to leave. You remain near the entrance of Aegon's bedchambers, far enough away to not impact the maester and his work.

You watch the process openly. Aegon's burns and other injuries are meticulously cleaned, white cloth stained dark as it is dragged against his skin. Salves and balms are lathered onto his wounds, concoctions meant to promote healing and ward off infection. The final step of the process involves the freshly cleaned wound being rebandaged.

The maester works at an expert pace, treating Aegon's body in sections. Before you know it, he's stepping back to assess the results of his efforts. The maester then looks over at you.

You've never been in a position to be responsible over someone so injured. Are you meant to...dismiss him? Approve his work? Ask something? "Is he..." Well seems like a terrible overstatement. You force yourself to take a few steps forward. "How is he?"

He briefly presses his lips together. "Much more stable than he was previously, your grace. I am afraid that I cannot yet predict much about his recovery. As of now, the priority is preventing infection."

You allow your gaze to fall onto Aegon. There's something about the way he's lying there, immobile and broken and smaller than he should be. "Right. Well, thank you."

The maester nods, "It is my honor, your grace."

He begins to gather his supplies before leaving. At the maester's absence, the maid that had been assisting him turns towards you. "Is there anything you need, your grace?"

You briefly consider sending her out for water or asking her to bring you a book you left in your own apartments. A menial task would ensure her return, which would mean you'd have a temporary reprieve from being alone with Aegon like this. "No, I'm alright. You are free to go."

She nods at the dismissal, "Thank you, my queen."

Queen. The title that belongs to your mother in her own right, not as a position inherited towards marriage.

The girl leaves, her quiet footsteps nearly drowned out by Aegon's unsteady breathing. You watch her until she's disappeared through the doorway, and then for awhile longer. When you can no longer justify your silence, you step forward.

Standing so close to the foot of Aegon's bed tugs at something deep inside of you. He is so still, so without defense. Like this, he does not seem like a man desperate to cement his position, or the person you never wished to be bonded to in this way, or even the only one who you allowed to enter your apartments after news of your brother's death arrived at the Red Keep. Now, he only seems like a boy trapped midway between where he lies and death.

Though bandaged and burned, the entirety of Aegon's features have not been destroyed. The shape of his nose, the part of his lips still familiar. His hair had not been a priority, and while the maester did brush it back to work on him, the disheveled strands have fallen forward again.

You move away from his bed's edge with careful steps. Before you can overthink the act, your hand moves to his forehead. As gently as you can will yourself to, you unplaster the hair stuck to the oily salves on his forehead. Your fingers catch themselves on silvery knots. You begin to pick apart the largest tangles as best as you can without a comb.

It's not an easy task, sweat and product cementing the knots into place. "I'd hate it if no one brushed my hair." The words come out on instinct, the desire to justify your proximity the way you would if he was awake. In all honesty, you're not sure if he can hear you.

The process is slow and clumsy, nails separating strands for you to comb through. Up close like this, you can almost pretend that this is restful for him. He still doesn't look well, but from here you can focus on his shut eyes and parted lips. Your hand drifts away from his hairline, fingertips fluttering over bandages and brushing against unmarred skin.

Something awfully sentimental attempts to claw its way up your throat. "I'll go get a comb." You pull your arm away from him. "I'll--I'll be back, I promise."

You take a single step back before turning your back to him. The maester deemed him stable, which means that he will not spontaneously pass if left alone for a moment. You'll only leave to fetch a comb and maybe a book so that you have something to read aloud. He's never loved your novels, but it's the only way you can think to keep him com--

A soft sound, so gentle and brief you could almost convince yourself you imagined it if it wasn't for the distinctness of the word. Your name.

You stall. Perhaps you misheard something else, maybe a stuttering of his breathing or the room settling. You turn.

He remains unchanged--body in the same position it's been in this entire time and eyes still shut. The supposed whisper should be dismissible.

You step forward, voice fragile as you ask, "Aegon?"

For a moment, pressed between the audible strain between his breaths, a faint optimism pulses through you. Weeks of being a bride, a queen of the realm hated by all those around her, and your only form of protection has, ironically, been the man that's bound you to this place.

The hope fluttering in your stomach quickly morphs into something closer to dread. He is not awake. He is not well enough to call for you or any--a shift, a turn of his outstretched hand so small and inconsequential you likely would not have noticed if it was any less needed.

Ignoring the blurring edges of your vision, you move towards his bedside in quick strides. Without thinking, your hand finds his. "I know that this union is not one you entered willingly. I am also aware of the fact that you know I did not ask for this either." You've not often held Aegon's hand, but now you're glad for his tangibility. "But you--you have not been cruel. You've actually been surprisingly patient, even when I have given you reason not to be."

His palm is warm against yours, the familiarity of it strangely assuring. The few times you've laid together for the sake of duty, the heat of Aegon's skin had been one of the few aspects of the process that you were reluctantly drawn to.

"At times, you have been kind..." You blink in an attempt to dismiss the stinging behind your eyes. "Friendly, even." Your hold on him tightens. "And I miss that. I--I miss our friendship."

The grief in your chest is a hybrid thing, made up just as much out of your empathy and fear as it is by your hurt. It's a sensation so dizzying, you nearly pour your panic out to him. You have to bite your tongue to avoid asking him to not leave you alone here.

Tears are beginning to prick the corner of your eyes when you feel his fingers bend around yours. Aegon squeezes your hand with a barely recognizable force.

He's--he's awake. "Aegon?"

His hold on you does not falter as a faint sigh escapes his lips, a midway of his own.

- - - -

a/n not to offer a part 2 to everything i write but i have an idea for a second fic that’s connected to this so if ur interested lmk :)))