#i rlly put Penelope thru it im sorry girl 😭

[noriaki-kak]

Another question 👀 (if that’s ok I don’t wanna bother you) but would you be willing to post any writing pieces you made of the Braithen kids,,,,it’s ok if u can’t !! It’s totally fine!!

Here’s some paw prints of my dog 🐾 as compensation idk,,,

OOH! Doggy... thank u for this offering! I wish I had more writing to share, but tbh I have a lot less written abt the Braithen kids than I'd like. Wrangling my ability to write is always a whole thing so a lot of stuff I do have is unfinished or so context dependent it's hard to tell what's goin on.

I do have one thing I can share though! I waffled on posting it because it takes place towards the latter half of Penelope's story and a LOT happens that I haven't covered yet. But I wanted to share it so I'll try and give a bit of context under the cut before the actual Thing itself!

SO, I think @dapper-comedy has mentioned some of this but just to be sure. After Leo is cursed and his father dies, the kingdom is left without a ruler. Penelope steps up and makes a bid for the crown, successfully taking the throne with support from the church and Leo's mother.

However, the decision to make this move wasn't entirely made by herself. An angel appears before her and basically tells her she's been chosen by god and given a sacred mission to save Braithen from demonic influence. He tells her that Leo is a lost cause and the only way to free him from his pain is to end him.

He's absolutely selling her a load of bullshit, making stuff up wholesale, manipulating her for his own agenda. He also goes a lot softer on the sell when they first meet, encouraging her to take the crown, hiding the more intense stuff (i.e. "saving" Leo), and kind of telling her everything she's ever wanted to hear.

She hated her father, but she also felt intense guilt near constantly for not being the model daughter she was supposed to be. Her desire for more out of life makes her feel like she's doing something wrong.

So this angel showing up, telling her god is real and approves of her, that she should grasp power and use it to make meaningful change, that she's allowed to want more out of life than being a good wife. It gets to her. Especially being in a vulnerable state after her confrontation with Leo, seeking meaning and concrete direction.

Over the years he acts as her "guardian" angel, appearing around her and offering counsel. He starts to let the act slip as time wears on and Penelope finds herself too deep in and too weary to take note or care.

This scene is one of the worst moments of Penelope's life. I believe Thea has spoken before about how Caspian tried to end things in a church after his demonic heritage is revealed to him, before his dad swoops in and takes him to live in hell instead.

This is the aftermath of that, with Penelope not knowing where Caspian is aside from the note he left behind. (Sorry girl, going through my half finished writing and so much of it is Penelope rlly goin thru it. Promise I'll write you into some kinder scenes soon queen.) So! Without further ado.

Penelope bursts through the doors of the church for what feels like the hundredth time tonight. She stumbles, rain soaked and bedraggled, down the aisle and collapses to the ground right before the last row of pews.

It wouldn’t be long before news spread. She had acted as was her way when she found the note, swallowing her feelings and drowning herself in practicality. Simple orders to find him had already been passed to any guard stationed in the area.

All night she searched, scouring every inch of the church inside and out. At first the lack of a body had given her a torturous hope, but as the horizon begins to faintly glow, the glorious light rips it from her.

She had to find him, she could find him. She would apologize for not being there. For closing herself off with Giselle’s passing, with the duties of the crown, with Leo’s sin.

Her fingers are numb as she gropes at her pocket, she can’t bring herself to actually reach inside, to touch the paper. The feel of the crumpled note through the damp fabric of her dress forces her to remain in reality, the words flooding her mind.

She would tell him it wasn’t his fault, he wasn’t a demon. He wasn’t, he could never be. She was at fault, all of this, everything… She would tell him, she would tell him-

She would find him somewhere crying. And he would wipe his tears when he saw her and smile sheepishly and pretend his eyes weren’t red. 

And she would pretend the same, or no…

She would cry and hug him, she could put off her duties tomorrow, they could have lunch. Maybe they could go out and pick blackberries, and the taste would remind them of Giselle. She would talk to him about her.

She would find him, she would, someone would. They would bring him to her, there wasn’t a body, that means he must, he must-

“What sort of wretched way must he have left this earth to not even leave a body? Perhaps his note speaks true, perhaps his corpse fell to ash in this holy place.” He speaks with a well practiced gentle pity. It’s not as if she ever feels his presence truly leave, but he had been utterly silent up to this point, and hearing him makes her freeze.

His words gall her, a disgusting fury wrenches at her bones.

“Please...” She wants to command him to be silent but her voice is hoarse and feeble. Shaky exhaustion ruins her strength, her pride. She gasps for air and tries again.

“Please do not speak of what you do not know.” It’s nothing, her words are paper thin. In this moment she is ruler of nothing, fallen to the floor. Frail and idiotic, and beholden to everything she hates.

“Does it not ease the pain? If he was indeed stained by the demonic, you’ve been spared from saving him.” She cannot see him, but she feels him close. “He was a good man, to rid the world of another demon for you.”

White hot fury flashes in her, she crosses her arms and grips at her shoulders, clawing at herself. She crumples forward, fighting the rage, the tears. She presses her forehead against the stone floor, her face contorted in a mask of agony.

The first dry sob wracks her body, ugly and stifled. Her throat is so tight, she sounds like an animal in pain.

“T-Take me. Send me to hell, please.” It is unlike her, she pleads like a child, honest in a way she hasn’t been in years.

“If everyone I love will be taken this way, send me too.” She begs foolishly, eyes screwed shut. Any pain would be better than this, an eternity burning would mercifully kill her mind.

“And what of Leonidas?” The name makes her grit her teeth and claw deeper into her shoulders.

“You would leave him in this world alone?” She lifts her head and he’s before her now. Through blurry vision she’s certain he looks more and more sickly every day.

She lurches forward and grips his arm with a desperate strength, digging into his flesh. He doesn’t flinch.

“Help me find Caspian, guide me to him.” She croaks out. A nausea rises in her, she desperately redirects the conversation. She’s so tired of him, she knows he has answers. Why can’t he just help like he used to-

“I swear to God I speak the truth when I say your friend no longer resides in this world.” His face is blank, and yet she knows he isn’t lying. This isn’t usually how he twists his words, this is a blunt hammer.

Something freezes in her, her eyes are bugged and glassy as she looks at her surroundings, as if suddenly lost. It’s like something is broken. She releases his arm and her hands fall limply to her sides. She wishes the church would collapse on top of her.

“Leave me.” There’s barely enough air in her sore lungs to form the words. “Leave me now, or kill me.”

There’s no response, when she blinks he is gone.

She is drenched in the silence, and her eyes search the cavernous cathedral from where she sits in a solitary delirium. The early morning glow alights upon the stained glass windows, and filters through warmly.

The glass eyes of the depicted figures bore into her, silent judges in her every failure and transgression. She fumbles in her pocket and pulls out the damp crumpled note. She doesn’t dare to unfurl it, or read it again, instead she presses it firm against her heart.

On the left she thinks.

Her far away eyes cast themselves upwards towards the vaulted ceilings, this prison she was born into, the prison she chose. Or did she really choose? No, this is her fault, she…

She thinks about the last time she saw Caspian, the empty look in his eyes that she ran from, and the dam breaks. 

It is an ugly and angry sound that rips through her, it would be generous to call it a sob. The tears run hot from her eyes as she curls in on herself.

The thoughts she desperately locks away spill forth in a deluge. What was the point of any of it? What has the false strength she built herself been for? What is the power she’s grasped for if she can’t use it to protect the ones she holds dearest… held dearest.

She is alone, and a hideous selfish fury washes over her. A desperate childish rage at Caspian for leaving her here alone. The feeling only fuels her self-castigation, he apologized so profusely in his note, so convinced he had done some wrong- 

She had always been the problem, not him. Sweet Caspian, kind sweet Caspian, heart so full and trusting. She can’t imagine life without him by her side, how was she supposed to…?

Memories of him pour over her. The frozen grief she stifled over Giselle’s death joins, and her rage breaks as warm thoughts of Leo intermingle. Every moment is like a new knife, loss, and loss, and loss, after loss.

How much more could she stand to lose? How much more can she fail those around her?

She crumples like the note in her hand as her grip grows tighter, and her mind goes blank with despair. Her weak sobs sound in the quiet cathedral, echoing off the intricate stonework. She cries in a way she hasn’t in years, snot pouring from her nose, body hunched and trembling. 

Her heart breaks, for the third and final time. So she mourns loudly, knowing that once the sun is risen, she will have nothing left to give.