#oc: estella

[annabawritersdream]

TOLKIEN OC WEEK- Day 4

Prompt: Gaps and Ghosts

Title: A Daughter's Plea.

Canon Characters: (King) Aragorn Elessar; Crown Prince Eldarion (mentioned)

Original Characters=> Princess Gilraen of the Reunited Kingdom

Estella (Gilraen's governess)

Imrolas (Lord Chancellor/Aragorn's private secretary)

Lord Daerion (Eldarion's tutor),

Lady "Aunt" Mörwen (Aragorn's cousin; mentioned)

CW: Mature themes, arranged marriage, somewhat graphic description of attempted s***ide.

Synopsys: King Elessar has decided his eldest (for now only) daughter, Princess Gilraen, is ready for marriage. Unfortunately, the young royal is not at all pleased with her betrothed.

Word Count: (AO3 stats=> 9,776 words)

Also posted on AO3! (Chapter 2; day 4)

It contains major spoilers for my main WIP The Lady of Ithilien (link to be found in my general masterlist)

READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

To know more about my OCs, please check my character profiles on Tumblr. (@annabawritersdream)

More information on Gilraen:

She is the second child of High King Aragorn Elessar and Queen Arwen. Born in FoA 3, she has one older brother (Eldarion, born FoA 1) and two younger sisters, Lóthuil (born FoA 16) and Meleril (born FoA 19).

GLOSSARY (SINDARIN)

Guren vell: (my) sweetheart

Ada: dad

A Daughter's Plea

Minas Tirith, FoA 15.

“What do you think, Estella?”

“I daresay you look splendid, Madam. Absolutely ravishing.”

Gilraen stood in front of the mirror and improvised a twirl.

“If I am not mistaken, that was also your opinion concerning all the other dresses that were brought in.”

“Forgive me, Madam, but there is no denying that they are all exquisite and befitting of the only daughter of our gracious King Elessar. Though I must say that, out of all the dresses the Lady Mörwen has gifted you, this may probably be that which I would be most inclined to wear. It is a magnificent creation, but I would expect no less from the clothiers of Dol Amroth. Their skill is said to be unparalleled. If I may, Madam, I also would like to remark on the dress’ subtle, understated details. I usually do not find golden motives to be aesthetically pleasing as I often find them redundant and inelegant, yet the embroideries along the cuffs are admittedly flawless.”

“It truly is beautiful. Yet I do not think I shall wear it on a regular occurrence.”

“Why is that?”

“As magnificent as it is, I do not feel comfortable in it. It is much too elaborate for my taste.”

“What would you wear then, Madam?”

“I think my blue dress will do.”

Estella sighed and rolled her eyes. “My lady…”

“What is wrong with it? It was also a gift from aunt Mörwen and there is no denying that…”

“It is old and tattered, Madam. Surely you would not want to appear before your Lord Father and your Lady Mother in those rags.”

“Do you think my mother and father would even notice?  My brother is all they think about. He is all they care about. Their precious firstborn child, the heir to the House of Telcontar. They barely acknowledge my presence these days, Estella. I always knew I never mattered and, though it hurts me deeply, I am glad they finally came to terms with it. No more lying, no more hypocrisy on their part. No more pretending.”

“Madam, if I may…”

“No, Estella. I know exactly what you are about to say, and it is simply not true. My mother never loved me. One would think that the daughter of the bearer of Vilya, the last descendant of a long line of mighty Elven lords and powerful ladies, the Evenstar of her people and the most beautiful maiden to currently walk the earth would be wise not to favor one child above the other.”

“Your Lord Father…”

“The King still thinks of me as a child. He does not value my opinions, nor does he ever asks for them. To him, I am merely a pawn, a thing of no value.”

“Do not say that I pray you. The Allfather knows our King loves you very much, Madam.”

“Would he constantly dismiss my feelings if he did? Would he avoid speaking to me?”

“Perhaps he fails to show it properly, but he does care for you.”

“That day…the day I took an arrow which was clearly meant for him…all I wanted was…”

She sighed as her voice trailed off. “When the arrow hit me and my father held me in his arms, I...”

She gulped. “I was overjoyed that he had finally acknowledged me, that he had seen me. Though my vision was fading, I mustered all my remaining strength and proudly looked upon him…”

“My lady…”

“Tears were streaming down his face. I remember thinking that maybe I had finally accomplished something worth of my status as a princess. I had succeeded in protecting him; something at which the guards of the Grey Company had failed. All of those guards clad in the most magnificent armor, war-hardened soldiers trained by excellent sword masters to protect and defend their Liege-Lord. Yet, none of them had noticed the arrow coming toward the procession. No one noticed it but me. A girl who was not even supposed to be there. Eldarion did not see it, Captain Halboron was not able to spot it either. I did and I jumped before him. I was told it was a Haradrim dart.”

“Haradrim? From Harad?”

“It was laced with poison.”

Estella hugged the princess tightly. “I still cannot fathom you could have died. What would I do without you? My sweet lady, my beautiful little girl. I hope you will pardon my impudence, but…I happen to care for you as if you were one of my own. I had two wonderful boys once. Two boys and a little girl who looked like you. Though no Elven blood ran through her veins, she did indeed have a fair complexion and bright gray eyes similar to yours.”

“Did she…”

“She died of illness as an infant.” She sighed and a rueful smile appeared on her face as she caressed the princess’ cheek. “My boys died too, though the circumstances of their early demise were fairly different.”

“Do you feel comfortable enough to tell me about their deaths? I would never wish to cause you unnecessary pain and I would like to apologize in advance for shamelessly asking you to share such personal details. I have now just realized that I know very little about you. For instance, I was not aware you were married. Is your husband…”

“Sadly, it has been many years since my husband traveled beyond the Circles of the World. Shattered by our daughter’s untimely passing, he resorted to alcohol to numb his pain. The man I had married, the man I had loved with every fiber of my being slowly wasted away, drowning his sorrow in ale and wine. So much wine. He would refuse to eat, and he would not sleep, neglecting his marital duties. He was no longer interested in his craft, in his sculptures, in his books, in his children. All that that he had enjoyed prior to our baby girl’s demise had suddenly lost its appeal. I watched him wither and shrink, the spark in his eyes replaced by thick veil of despair none of us seemed to be able to pierce. His now perennially glazed eyes had turned imperious and cold, his face unrecognizable. Though he had showered my boys with a copious amount of affection, the love he felt for his daughter was unparalleled. He was perhaps the only man within the walls of this city to value a girl over his male heirs.”

“The world is in dire need of such people, I reckon,” the princess replied as she dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. “Though I do not think I am more valuable than my brother, I certainly do believe I am no less important than him. I wish my mother and father would agree.”

She held onto Estella. “I am so sorry for your loss. Though we fail to communicate most of the time, I know I could not bear it if either one of my parents died. Though I cannot stand him on most occasions, I would be devastated if something happened to my brother. Were I on my deathbed, I suppose he would not shed a single tear.”

“You may not believe it, Madam, but he was rather shaken following the accident.”

“Of course he was. Although Father was the main target, he too could have been hit. You know how much of a coward my brother is. Young children are braver than he is. I am surprised he did not have someone help him escape as soon as the arrow was released.”

“He is the Crown Prince and your father’s only heir. His survival is vital to the kingdom and I have no doubt that some people at court—influential nobles holding grudges against your father for whatever reason—who may be plotting his downfall as we speak. They have already tried killing the King, how do you know they will not attempt at your brother’s life as well? I am sure he, too, knows that it is a very likely outcome. He has a right to be scared.”

“I am certain no one from Gondor is to blame. As long as he does not leave the capital—or the kingdom for that matter—he is safe.”

“Is he?”

“No one would dare attack the Prince.”

“You prevented your father’s assassination.”

“I did indeed.”

She glanced at Estella. “No one in Gondor would purposely hurt my brother. Our people would never do such a thing. Are you perhaps trying to suggest otherwise?”

“I do not know, Madam. I thought the King could not be harmed. If you had not…”

“Please do not speak of it. We all know what could have happened and we should be thankful it did not come to pass. The mere thought of attending my father’s funeral…”

She cleared her throat as she pushed back tears. “Eldarion is much too young to ascend the throne now. He cannot sit on it, Estella. He would run the Reunited Kingdom into the ground and destroy the legacy of our House. He has no supporters, no one to guide him, no one to advise him. Those Haradrim traitors would certainly seize an opportunity and attack the city at once. Minas Tirith and its people would be annihilated. Our heritage, our culture, the traditions of our mighty ancestors…all would be lost. Gondor would cease to exist and with it the remnants of the greatest civilization of Middle-earth too would fall into oblivion.”  She gulped and nervously rubbed her fingers. “I love my brother dearly, but he must not be permitted to rule until he shows he has acquired some wisdom and common sense.”

“He is still so very young, Madam. He has got time still.”

“His behavior is deeply concerning. Mother and Father refuse to acknowledge it simply because he is the heir to the House of Telcontar. He is immature, entitled…and vicious. I pity the woman he will marry.”

“I beg to differ. The lady Elenna seems quite content with the arrangement.”

“The Lady Elenna…”

The princess sighed and shook her head. “She is scared, Estella. I can see it in her eyes. That poor girl has never been happy. I have seen how my brother treats her…his attitude towards her…”

“Our prince certainly would not harm her, Madam.”

“He would. He would and he already did. I saw him. He slapped her because she would not give in to his demands.”

“Are you certain, Madam? Perhaps the Lady Elenna was talking to somebody else; someone that you mistook for your brother.”

“Do you not believe me, Estella?”

“I have never said that, my lady. But I find it hard to…”

“You do not believe me. Do you think I would purposely lie and slander the Crown Prince? Do you think I would speak if I was not beyond certain of what I saw and heard?”

“If I ever implied it, then I apologize.”

“I firmly believe the people would never harm him. They cherish him, but that is only because they are unaware of his true character. I am afraid they will indeed try and hurt him once they find out who he really is, how he acts behind closed doors. They seem to adore him and how could I blame them? He is handsome, the fairest prince of Men to ever walk Middle-earth since the Elder Days. He knows how to approach people; he is gallant and kind when the situation requires it. He is a charmer. He possesses good qualities, and it is undeniable that he knows how to use them to his advantage. He has mastered the art of deception.”

“I do understand your concerns, Madam, and I partly agree with you, yet…it seems to me you are trying to portray your bother as sort of Dark Lord.”

“Is it not accurate though? He knows how to manipulate people. Whatever he wants, he takes. No one questions him. He believes he is control of his actions, but he does not realize others are pulling the strings behind his back, namely that horrid tutor of his.”

“Lord Daerion? He is always so courteous and…”

“He is hiding something, Estella.  I can feel it. He should not be allowed to be around my brother. His whereabouts are unknown, he has no family, no friends…we do not even know where he lives. How can we trust such a secretive individual? How has he been allowed to become the Crown Prince’s only confidant? A man with no position…”

“He did serve under Lord Denethor, Madam. The late Steward took him in when he was allegedly abandoned by his parents as a young child. He was then raised as a proper lord.”

“From all accounts, the deceased Steward was a repulsive excuse of a ruler and an abhorrent father to Lord Faramir. I have no doubt that Daerion is more of the same. I was right to distrust him.”

“I do not doubt your intuition, but, if I may, I have a suggestion I should like you to consider.”

“What is it?”

“Let go of prejudice.”

The princess frowned. “What do you mean?”

“It seems to me you are blinded by preconceived notions. The Lord Denethor was indeed a troubled individual, but he did have a difficult past and was forced to endure a great deal of pain. Perhaps doting on Lord Daerion was a way to reconnect with his old self, with the man he had been before he was struck by pain and tragedy. He saved an innocent child from misfortune and showered him with love and attention. What would have been of Lord Daerion had the late Steward not provided him with an adequate livelihood? He most certainly would have perished.”

“Could he not show the same love and care to his son?”

“You speak of things you do not know, my lady.”

“Many contemporaries of the Lord Denethor still dwell within these halls, Estella. Even his staunchest supporters and closest allies have confirmed that our current Steward was treated less than favorably by his sire. Some of those lords immediately swore fealty to the Prince of Ithilien following my father’s accession as they were outraged by the unfair treatment previously suffered by Lord Faramir. They wished to make amends for not protecting him when they should have. They knelt before him and begged for mercy, which was granted to them.”  She sighed. “I admire Lord Faramir. He is knowledgeable and quick-witted. I wish my brother had turned to him for counsel. It would have benefited him greatly and he would now be maturing into the valiant prince he tricked the people into thinking he is. As far as I know, Lord Faramir had offered to tutor my brother, but Eldarion turned him down for Daerion.”

She paused. “It is not hard to imagine why he would do such a thing. It is no secret that my bother loves being coddled. Only Eru knows what that vile snake told him. My brother may be able to manipulate others, but he is manipulated just as easily. He is persuaded that Daerion cares for him, but it is apparent that Daerion is only interested in his reputation. That is all he cares about. I am certain he has spies and informants lingering about. He craves power, I can see it in his eyes. He craves power and would do anything to…”

She exhaled.” It is inevitable for me not to think ill of someone who was reared by a heartless madman.”

“Do you know him well enough? I think not. You should not be making assumptions, my lady. It is impolite and, if he truly is the sort of man, you are so adamantly describing, it could very dangerous if your words were overheard.”

“The Prince and the King must be protected.”

“They have the best protection available in all the lands of Men, as it is their right. The Grey Company…”

“The Grey Company failed to ensure their safety. My father only survived because of me.”

Her eyes rested on her governess’ face.

“Estella.”

“What is it, Madam?”

“I think…”

She pursed her lips. “I believe you were right. It all makes sense.”

“Madam, I am not following.”

“You said it before. You said it yourself, remember?”

“I beg your pardon, my lady, but I do not know what you are talking about. Perhaps if you would be so kind to provide some context…”

“You mentioned how there were no Haradrim at the parade.”

“That is correct. I did say that.”

“It only means the attacker was a Gondorian. You were right. Of course you were. No Rohirrim and no Haradrim attended the parade, after all.”

“Perhaps someone from Harad infiltrated the crowd and managed to…”

“They would have been caught, Estella. People from Harad have somewhat of a…distinctive appearance. They would never wear Gondorian garments, which makes them easily detectable.”

“We cannot know whether…”

“Why are you retracting your statement? I understand that you probably did not mean it. Perhaps you intended it to be a joke, a careless remark. But it is an entirely possible scenario, if not the most likely to have occurred.”

“You truly believe that…”

“It is my opinion that someone dwelling within our borders orchestrated an assassination attempt on my father. Perhaps they were also planning to murder my brother.”

“And I suppose you firmly believe that someone to be Lord Daerion, is that right?”

“I do.”

“It is not my place to argue with you, Madam, but…”

“Why are you defending him? Why are you trying to make excuses for him? Are you one of his mistresses?”

“Of course not!”

“You said it yourself, Estella. How can you not understand? Someone from Gondor was behind the attempt on my father’s life,” the Princess insisted. “Someone who knows our family well, someone who has access to my father’s inner circle. Someone my father trusts.”

“Your father has surrounded himself with many capable statesmen. Why are so you keen on accusing Lord Daerion? He’s your brother’s tutor and confidant. Why would he harm the King? He cares for Prince Eldarion as if he were his own son and every little thing he does is for his happiness and better comfort.”

“You are so blinded, Estella. For Eru’s sake, WAKE UP! You had an affair with him, there is no other explanation.”

“Madam, I…”

Estella was interrupted by a loud bang followed by a thud. A young man was on the floor, the wooden tray he has been carrying also on the ground. Estella frowned and rolled her eyes.

“Imrolas.”

He immediately stood up, picking up the tray. “Forgive me. I did not mean to barge in this unseemly fashion. I tripped and…”

“To what do we owe the grand entrance?”

“I…”

“We do not have all day, Imrolas! Place the tray anywhere you like and bow to the Princess. And do clean up this mess! Whatever was in the cup that so very unceremoniously shattered on the floor happened to spill all over the rug!”

“I had boiled some milk for the Princess…”

“She is no longer five years old! Why would you do such a thing?”

“She usually has it with sugar and vanilla extract…it is her favorite drink…”

“Do you have anything to say? Or have you come here just to be a bother?”

 Imrolas bowed his head. “I was sent by King Elessar. He wishes to speak to his daughter at once.”

“You could have said it much earlier. I suppose the cleaning can be postponed. Has our gracious King mentioned…”

Imrolas turned to the Princess. “He has decided to marry you off, Madam. He is waiting for you in his study.”

He glanced at Estella. “I was not going to clean it anyway. You may do it yourself. You are the head of the Princess’ household, and it is one of your many duties. I shall tend to mine. I may be clumsy, and I may be carefree, but I deserve to be valued and respected. You cannot talk to me that way. I do not answer to you and I owe you nothing. I was sent here to deliver a message, and I thought the Princess might enjoy a glass of milk. That is all.”

He placed the tray on a nearby table and bowed to the Princess. She was staring at him in anguish. “Marry? I have to…. marry?” she asked. “It cannot be, Imrolas. Why would my father…”

“It is the King’s decision, my lady. I am only his secretary, there is nothing I can do about it. I was tasked with bringing you the news and I had to comply.”

“NO! I do not want this!”

“If you please, Madam, I shall escort you to…”

“NO!” she cried. “Estella…say something. Speak to him. Speak to the King, I don’t want to marry. I am not ready, I don’t…”

“Who am I do so, my lady? Perhaps you will grow to love your husband. Maybe it will be love at first sight. I am sure…”

“I do not want to be wed, Estella! Why is no one listening to me!?”

The Princess rushed to Imrolas and hugged him. “Who am I marrying? You have seen him, am I right? You have, Imrolas, I know you have! Please tell me…”

“I am not allowed to say anything.”

“Imrolas, please. I don’t trust my father on such matters. I love him dearly, but I…”

“Come, my lady. We should not have him wait.”

She clung to him. “I have a bad feeling, Imrolas. I am scared. I would rather stay here.”

“You must not be afraid.”

“Why do I see pity in your eyes? What is going on? Who is my betrothed? Tell me his name. I am certain that my father told you who I am marrying. He informed you about it. Please, Imrolas. I beg you…do tell me. Say it.”

“Come with me. You shall see for yourself once he joins you and your gracious father.”

Estella and Imrolas had to forcibly drag her out of her chambers, the young royal protesting and hollering for an explanation.

“Behave, my lady.”

“Behave? Are you seriously asking me to…behave?”

“I am, my lady. Your screams will be heard by the whole court. Is this what you want?”

“If you think I am interested in the opinion of servile courtiers and in that of silly ladies whose only purpose is…”

“You will follow us and…”

“I do not intend to leave my chambers.”

Imrolas glanced at her. “My Princess, I beg you…”

“I will not change my mind. I am staying here.”

“Please, my lady, do not…”

Imrolas trailed off and gasped as Estella and picked up the Princess, tossing her unceremoniously over her shoulder and placing a hand over her mouth. “I have not done this since you were a toddler,” she complained. “Albeit disgraceful, it is somehow more dignified than the horrid spectacle you are currently making of yourself.”

All the Princess could do was mumble and stare at Imrolas, who was himself bewildered.

“What are you doing, Mistress Estella? Is this the proper way to treat a princess?”

“If she insists on acting like a spoiled toddler who will not listen to reason, then yes, my Lord Secretary of the King. It is.”

“And you truly believe that carrying her as if she were a potato bag will be helpful in bringing her back to her senses about a marriage to which she clearly does not consent?

“I raised her myself, Imrolas.”

“I understand, Estella. Yet I fail to see…”

“I know what I am doing.”

“I think you could try and persuade the King to reconsider his decision. Is it not what the Princess asked of you?”

“Why do you not do it, Master Secretary? You may have a better chance of succeeding. Our Liege trusts you and confides in you. You spend more time with him than anybody in this court. Surely putting in a word would not be too difficult for you, would it?”

“I am only a secretary. It is not my place to criticize our Liege-lord.”

“It is not mine either. I am only the Princess’ governess.”

“Well, what can we do then?”

“We are servants, Imrolas. Servants obey and keep their opinions to themselves. They keep quiet and do as their lord commands. That means there is virtually nothing we can do.”

“I thought that maybe you…”

“I oversaw the Princess’ education, that is true. I taught her how to walk and how to dress. I devoted myself to her upbringing. That does not mean I can change the King’s mind. No one can.”

“Perhaps we could speak to the Queen…”

“Be reasonable, Imrolas. Be reasonable.”

“I simply suggested…”

“It is a foolish suggestion! Do you seriously think we could go to the Queen and ask her to intercede on our behalf? Have you become a complete half-wit?”

“What would happen? We could ask for an audience…”

“And say what?! Our esteemed Princess does not wish to wed?”

“Y…yes? Is that not the truth?”

He glanced at her. “She does not seem at all pleased with it.”

“That is only because I am carrying her as if she were a potato bag as you rightly pointed out.”

“You could at least take your hand off her mouth.”

“Oh no, that would be most unwise.”

“How so?”

“She would embarrass herself and we must prevent it, especially within these halls. Do you not know it is said that even walls have ears? The Princess’ reputation would be ruined.”

“I am starting to properly loathe that word.”

“You would be surprised to learn how many things I loathe.”

Imrolas raised an eyebrow and Estella scoffed. “I must confess I deeply envy those who do not live here. Though serving the realm is my most sacred franchise, I…”

“You wish you were not the Princess’ governess.”

“I love our Princess as if she were my own child. As a matter of fact, she reminds me of my daughter; my beautiful girl whom I lost so many years ago. Yet…”

“Yet?”

“I truly wish we could help her. She does not deserve to be married off so young.”

Imrolas glanced at the Princess. “Are you comfortable up there, Madam?”

The Princess released a grunt and kicked Imrolas in the shoulder. The latter wheezed. “I suppose not.”

“She need not worry, for I will soon free her. That is, if she acts as befitting her station.”

“I do hope you will release her.” He leaned in. “Mind your tongue, my lady. She is the King’s daughter. A bold choice of words may cost you your pretty head.”

“Nonsense. The Princess would never harm me. Perhaps it is you, after all. You are eager to get rid of me.”

“Oh, not at all my fair lady,” he quipped. “You may not believe me, but I very much enjoy being around you when you are not insulting me.”

“You take delight in annoying me, Imrolas. I reckon that to be far more likely.”

“Perhaps.” He sighed. “Would you mind putting the Princess down? Watching her flail her arms makes me uncomfortable.”

“Oh, my poor, sensitive Imrolas,” the governess mocked him. “I suppose you have never been to battle. It would serve you well. At least you would learn to be less impressionable.”

“And you have, my lady? How many enemies have you slaughtered with your beautiful dress and headpieces? How many experienced warriors have you faced?”

“It is not a fair comparison, my Lord Secretary.”

“Women can participate in war if they so wish. Take the late Lady Éowyn for instance. She joined the army led by Théoden King and Éomer King and killed the Lord of the Nazgûl at the Pelennor Fields. She was only twenty-four years of age when she did that. I think it is impressive.”

“Not all women are like the Lady Éowyn. Be careful not to speak of her.”

“How come? She should be hailed as one of the greatest figures of this past age. She saved us all. Minas Tirith would have fallen, had she not slain that foul beast and its accursed rider.”

“I am aware of it. I know it all too well. Yet, you should refrain from mentioning her deeds. Members of this court may be quick to judge you and, as far as I know, most of them despise you already. You had better not give them any more reasons to hate you.”

“Do they really despise me?”

“If the persistent rumors I have heard have some truth to them…I suppose that…”

“Why would they though? I have never offended or disrespected anyone. I have never even spoken to them, Estella. I barely talk to anyone except you and King Elessar.  I am his secretary, the Lord Chancellor as some would say. I manage his correspondence, and I am in charge of his seal. It is my responsibility to keep track of his private expenses, and it is also my duty to collect taxes. I spend my days in an office with a balcony overlooking the Citadel and I rarely leave my quarters whenever the King does not require my assistance. I am only trying to serve the realm to the best of my ability. I may not have been the most qualified candidate to…”

“There. That is precisely the reason why others loathe the sight of you.”

“They think I am unfit to serve as Lord Chancellor, do they not?”

“You said so yourself.  You mentioned how clumsy and clueless you are several times since I met you and remarked on it earlier.”

“No, I…I did not…I meant…I…”

“Calm down, Imrolas.”

“Do you agree with them?”

“Imrolas…”

“It is a simple question. The answer should not require much thought, as it is fairly straightforward. Do you agree or not?”

Estella glanced at him. “No. No, I don’t.” Her lips curved into a meek smile, an amused twinkle in her eye. “Although you could try and be slightly more…organized. I have seen your study, and I think you should thank the Valar the King is not interested in visiting you.”

“He does not have time to visit me. He has many issues to take care of and so have I.”

“You should be grateful and pray that the One keeps him busy.”

“It is not funny, Estella. I take my duties seriously and…”

“I know that, my friend. I just thought I could land you a helping hand.”

“What for? I mean, I am flattered. I…what would I need help with? I cannot think of a single thing that needs fixing or…”

“When was the last time that study was cleaned, for instance?”

The secretary instantly paled. “Ugh…I…well, I…”

“That is what I thought.”

“What…what do you intend to do about it?”

“Dust it? Clean it? Sweep the floors, add some color to it? Add some flowers, a few pillows here and there? One may as well find more cheer in the Houses of the Dead.”

“I am very meticulous when it comes to…”

“Oh, do keep your tongue behind your teeth, Imrolas! You cannot fool me.”

“I am not trying to, I…”

“Here we are,” the governess cut him off. “Madam?”

Gilraen let out a grunt and tried to sound out some words, Estella’s hand still on her mouth.

“May Eru be blessed, you are alive. You have been awfully quiet; I was starting to worry.”

The Princess’ mumbling prompted Estella to set her free. She put her down gently and fixed her hair. “We are approaching the King’s study. Please, Madam, do not cause a scene.”

“I have no desire to marry.”

“You will have to. Your father…”

“He cannot force me.”

“You are the King’s daughter, and you are expected to...”

“I will not marry anyone. Not for a long time.”

“I have no wish to gag you again, but if you keep arguing and interrupting me when I am attempting to…”

“What about you? Have you ever considered taking another husband? You could wed Imrolas. I heard you talk, and you quarrel like an old married couple.  What do you think, Imrolas?”

“Madam, now it is not an appropriate time to jest. Your father is waiting for you. You should go.”

“Will you two not accompany me?”

The secretary and the governess exchanged a glance. “Would you like us to?”

“Yes. I do not think I can do it alone.”

They walked to her father’s study silently, Imrolas and Estella slowing their pace so that the Princess could take the lead. They were servants and, as such, it was forbidden for them to trudge by her side. They turned a corner and saw full-armored guards stationed on both sides of the corridor, the winged crown of Gondor and the scepter of Annúminas intertwined in an elaborate coat of arms that was plastered on their tabards as well as on their helms. They bowed as she hesitantly trudged along, their heads as low as hers. She stopped before a carved oak door. She turned back and sighed as Estella and Imrolas each gave her an encouraging nod. Then they both bowed and took their leave of her. She stood still for a few more minutes before the guard standing closest to her opened the door, careful not to meet her eye. She pursed her lips and prayed to Eru. All will be well, she told herself. Whatever happens, do not lose hope. For lost is the faithless when the road darkens.

-

“Gilraen, guren vell. Do come in.”

She entered the room and curtsied. Elessar stood and walked up to her, hugging her tightly. “My beautiful girl. You must be wondering why I called you here.”

 He kissed her brow and the light in his eyes dimmed as he glanced into hers. “What is it, my child?”

“I…I was told…”

“Oh, you already know about it, then.” He kissed her cheek. “I am so proud of you, my sweet girl. Are you alright?”

Her lips curved into an understated smile as she bowed her head.

“Gilraen?”

“I am, my lord. I am fine. You seem to be in good health as well.”

“It is because of you that I still live, my daughter.” He ran a hand through her hair. “I need you to promise me something.”

“You only need ask. I am yours to command.”

“Never try and save my life again.”

“Father…”

“Should I perish, whether it be in combat or…”

“Please don’t…”

“You’re right. You probably do not wish to hear unpleasant things on such a joyful occasion. I have summoned you here to discuss another matter. I apologize for not telling you sooner, but, as it happens, my mind was set on your full recovery.”

“I know. Though I was unconscious most of the time, I knew you were by my side. I felt your presence, and, for that, I am grateful. You worked tirelessly to ensure my survival.”

Elessar caressed her face. “My sweet girl…forgive me for not being a better father to you. Eru knows that I have made mistakes. I have neglected you and disregarded you, but I believe I have found a way to mend our relationship. I know how tedious life at court is to you. Which is why I have decided to allow you to spend a few months away from the capital.”

Gilraen’s eyes widened. “My liege, I…”

“Father. Please do not use titles with me. I am your father, Gilraen.”

“I...do not know what to say.”

“It is not what you have always wished for?”

“I…”

“You are trembling. Are you certain you’re alright?”

“I…”

“Gilraen?”

His tone was full of concern. “My child, look at me. If you don’t feel well…”

“I am fine. I am just…confused.”

“How so?”

“You were never in favor of me leaving Minas Tirith. You always called me back whenever I left to visit Aunt Mörwen and you know how safe her mansion is. Why would you send me away when you always insisted that I stay here?”

“You are not going back to Dol Amroth. Forget about Aunt Mörwen.”

She frowned. “What do you mean? Am I no longer allowed to…”

“You will be escorted to Lossarnach as soon as possible.”

“Why? What am I to do there?”

“It is my personal thank you to you, my child. A wedding gift which I hope shall be well received.”

“Wedding gift?”

“Are you not glad?”

“I…”

“Gilraen?”

“Should I be?”

“It is for you to tell me. Though I must confess I did expect quite a different reaction. Usually, ladies cannot contain their excitement hearing such news. That is my experience, at least.”

“To whom am I to be married? Imrolas would not speak about it. Why am I being sent to Lossarnach? There is nothing for me to do there.”

“Your betrothed has been granted lordship over the region and you, as his bride, are entitled to the title of lady of Lossarnach. The Prince of Umbar was briefly considered as a viable alternative, but you never seemed comfortable with the idea of crossing the border.”

“That is not true. I have only been to Dol Amroth, and you always called me back here nearly as soon as you learned of my departure. I would like to travel to Rohan and I should also enjoy to visit my uncles and see my Lady Mother’s childhood home for myself. Rivendell must be so beautiful and…”

 “That is enough, Gilraen.”

“But…”

“I must tell you that the grandson of the current lord of Lebennin was also considered. I have met with the boy on a number of occasions and, though he would be an excellent husband, he suffers from a variety of ailments which can hardly be treated. I feel for the boy, truly. He would be the perfect husband for you, but I doubt he would be able to fulfill his marital duties. Our House is young, and it needs heirs in order to leave a lasting legacy.

“I am twelve years old…”

“I know, my child, I know. Your brother is fourteen and so is his own betrothed. Such is nature of unions among the nobility, whether we approve of it or we do not. I understand such a commitment may be cause of worry and distress, which is why I recommend that you spend some time with the lady Elenna. After all, she is your brother’s intended, and she also happens to be well-advised on several…”

“I will never be like the Lady Elenna nor do I wish to. I admire her but I pity her. I pity her and I would rescue her if I could. I would save her from the dark pit in which she is trapped.

“Trapped?”

“Have you not noticed how miserable she is?”

Elessar sighed. “She did indeed endure some unpleasant…”

“Do you think forcing an arranged marriage upon her will be at all helpful? The poor girl is unwell and no one seems to care. If she really must marry, at least have her choose her own husband. I have seen how Eldarion treats her, Father. I witnessed some of his brutality. He has no regard for her honor and…”

“I will not let you slander your brother. While it is understandable that you may not see eye to eye on certain...”

“Father, Eldarion is...”

“Do not interrupt me, my child,” he admonished her. “While I do agree that there are many at court who do not wish the Lady Elenna well—many of whom I have known for several years—I am beyond convinced your brother is not one of them. He may not be in love with her as of now, but he would never mistreat her.”

“Do you understand that a great deal of her pain and suffering are to be attributed to none other than my very own brother, to the Crown Prince you so revere? What has Eldarion done to deserve the constant praise you and Mother seem to be so keen on lavishing upon him? What has he done to deserve such boundless love? What has he achieved that I have not accomplished as well?”

“You both are distinguished members of House Telcontar. The future of the Reunited Kingdom rests in your hands.”

“You have not answered my question, Father,” Gilraen insisted. “What has Eldarion done that is so deserving of merit and attention?”

Elessar sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. “It is true then. I hoped your brother’s worries were futile and unfounded. At last, it turns out he was correct.”

“Of what do you speak? What are you referring to?”

“Sadly, your brother is aware of the blatant disdain in which you hold him and is disconcerted by your cold demeanor and arrogant manners, which, I admit, I had not noticed until he pointed them out to me. He stressed how some of the rather grievous incidents in which you were recently involved and the issues that followed may have been exacerbated by your condescending attitude.”

“He accused me of being condescending?”

She scoffed. “I am so very pleased to know that my irreprehensible brother is now fit to lecture me on morals. If I may say so, Father, I think he ought to strive to better his own behavior and focus on his duties. As the Crown Prince, he is expected to uphold to the values of our forefathers.”

“Of course he is. And so are you.”

“I am trying to my best to act according to my conscience. I have always done so, and I stand firm on this proposition of mine. I am not one to be easily swayed.”

“Of that, I am glad,” he replied dryly. “Though I still fail to understand what you were trying to imply.”

“I find it odd that a man of your wisdom and acumen was unable to grasp the hidden meaning behind my previous statement.”

“Fret not, I did pick up on the subtleties.” Elessar glanced at his daughter, his gray eyes cold and stern. “However, I should very much like you to detail Eldarion’s misdeeds. They must be grave indeed to warrant such a harsh reaction.”

“Eldarion is not the boy you believe him to be, my liege.”

“It was your brother who brought it to my attention. We discussed the matter at great length, and it may be due to a poorly concealed feeling of jealousy on your part. While I dismissed his claim at the time our conversation about the matter took place, I see now that I should have heeded his words.”

“I never once thought my beloved father would favor one of his children beyond measure while completely disregarding the other, but it is apparent that the Crown Prince succeeded in poisoning you against me.” Her lip quivered. “What happened to you? Tell me, Ada. I…I need to know. What happened to us? Has your love for me utterly faded? Why will you not believe me, why will you not listen to me? Why will you not even look me in the eye?”

“Now it is not the time to address such…”

“You will not dismiss me again,” she chimed in. “I will not allow it.”

“Very well. Do speak, Gilraen.”

“Have you truly not noticed anything odd in Eldarion’s behavior? Is she such a good pretender that you would believe him if he told you that the Valar came among us?”

“Say what you must and make haste, I pray you. I did not summon you here so that you could slander your brother with unfounded accusations. Your intended is joining us shortly in order to discuss the terms of your betrothal as well as his plans for the betterment of Lossarnach.”

“You will not listen to me, will you? I have to yet say a word and…”

“Gilraen.”

“I must beg my liege to call off the Crown Prince’s betrothal to the Lady Elenna of Ithilien.”

Elessar frowned. “Why? I doubt that the Lady Elenna has behaved improperly.”

Gilraen clenched her jaw. “Must it always be the Lady Elenna or any other woman? Why can it not be Eldarion? Is it because he is a boy? Is it because he is a male?”

“You know very well that is not what I meant.”

“Is it because he is your coveted heir, the high and mighty Crown Prince of the Reunited Kingdom of Gondor and Arnor? Is that why you cannot fathom the concept of him ever making a mistake? That is it, is it not?”

“Your brother is a kind and thoughtful young man.”

“That is what he wants you and Mother to believe. Although he is excellent at making it seem so, he is not who he pretends to be.”

“Gilraen…”

“He beats her, Father. I saw it with my own eyes.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Your precious son. My brother. Eldarion.”

Elessar stared at her, a puzzled expression on his face. “What about him?”

“Do you not understand? He is the sole responsible for her troubles.” She sighed. “You care deeply about her, do you not?”

“Of course I do. She is a blessing to our family and will be a wonderful Crown Princess and an excellent Queen in due time. The realm will flourish under her guide and protection.”

“She will not be the Crown Princess, Father. For her own sake, she cannot be. Eldarion should not be permitted to wed until he matures and learns how to treat others.”

Confusion and bewilderment were etched on the King’s features. “My son would never disrespect anyone. He was not raised that way. I made sure of it.”

“I know,” the Princess quipped. “Unfortunately, my brother appears to have forgotten the values you and my Lady Mother tried to instill in him as a child. He strayed from the rightful path you set him on long ago and sought refuge in the counsel of another.”

She paused. “I suppose you are aware of his fondness for his tutor.”

Elessar nodded. “Lord Daeron is a trusted member of his household and a valuable ally to the Crown. He is a core member of my Council and has served me faithfully since I reclaimed the throne that was mine by right. He recently further proved his worth and his loyalty to the realm by saving your life. You, my daughter, stand before me because of him and, for that, I am forever in his debt. A debt which, I fear, shall never be fully paid. Though an attempt was made and an agreement between us was indeed reached, I fear it will not suffice.”

Gilraen ignored him. “What if he was to blame for Eldarion’s misbehavior? His influence on him is growing stronger by the day.”

“Lord Daeron oversees his scholarly education, that is all. Your brother has no other reason to see him, and, to my knowledge, he does not interact with him unless he has queries about his daily assignments. They speak of history, grammar and politics.”

“I presume Eldarion himself told you so.”

“You are correct.”

“I assume you do not know about his many concubines then.”

“What are you saying, Gilraen? You enjoy spreading lies and deceit to tarnish his reputation, do you not? What is it that you hope to gain from your scheming? Do you seek to win the people’s favor?” He looked at her gravely. “Are you plotting to overthrow me? Do you want to be queen? Tell me, Gilraen. You wish to rule, is that right?”

Her eyes widened. “Father, how can you…?”

“What will you do? Speak. Tell me all about it. Will you have your brother killed? Are you hoping the people will murder him so that you can ascend the throne? Will you get rid of me as well? Will you have me executed? What about your mother? Is she going to be exiled?”

“How quickly did you forget that I saved you,” she replied, her tone low. “How quickly. I took an arrow that was meant for you, I bled for you, I nearly died for you, and this is what you think? Do you truly believe I would usurp your throne and murder my family in cold blood? I care nothing for that stupid chair. Yes, Father, that is all that it is. A stupid chair. A stupid, meaningless chair that could as well be destroyed by  a flood or a natural disaster of any sort. Do you think I would choose a chair over my parents?”

“I did not…”

“I am trying to have a conversation with you, I am attempting to reason with you. I am only asking for a few minutes of your time. I am only asking you to listen. Can you do that? Can you listen to your own daughter? Is it too much to…”

Her voice trailed off and tears welled up in her gray eyes. “You need to save her. Save the Lady Elenna from my brother. Call off their betrothal. Marry her to somebody else, someone who will take care of her. I may not know her all that well, but she is struggling, Father. That much is clear for all to see. She is suffering and it is my  wish to help her.”

“I had suggested that you spend some time with her. It will benefit you greatly. As I mentioned earlier, she is the epitome of…”

“Are you in denial or just plain cruel? She is suffering and we must do something to aid her. We must intervene before she…”

She noticed how her father had stiffened, his eyes suddenly vacant. “Are you alright?”

He did not reply and Gilraen raised an eyebrow. “Father?”

He gulped and took a deep breath before he sat. “I did intervene. Had I waited one more instant, she…”

“What did she do?”

“I…”

“Did my brother do something to her?”

“Gilraen…”

“Did the Prince force himself on her? I know he slaps her and pushes her around when she does not give in to his whims. I caught a glimpse of several bruises on her arms, and I may have inquired about a visible split lip but…even I cannot picture my brother...”

She held her breath and exhaled loudly. “He would not do that, would he? She is to be his wife. He cannot…please tell me that he…”

“She has taken up to wearing a tight collar around her throat, has she not?”

Gilraen blinked, confused. “I thought it was necklace at first, but…yes, she…she does wear one. Other ladies wear jewelry of the same fashion. Why do you ask?”

“She…she was attacked by two of your mother’s attendants. She would not say their names even though I begged her multiple times. She was trembling. They injured her with scissors and punched her repeatedly in the face. Poor child was so scared. They attacked her out of envy. That is what she told me. She said they harmed her because they were jealous of her future status as Crown Princess. She said they claimed to have slept with your brother. I did not believe it; I still do not believe it. I did not raise my son that way. My Eldarion would never do that. I warned the Lady Elenna about the remote possibility of him taking a mistress, but…”

“You knew…”

“I would have warned anyone. Infidelity is rampant in Gondor; it always has been. I simply wished to warn her as I would have done with any other lady. What matters is…I did not believe her. I got angry and said things I should not have. She blamed her late mother for her misfortune and…asked me to return to Emyn Arnen. She said she only wanted to be happy, and she doubted she could find respite here at court. She pleaded again and again…she cried out that she only wished to go home. I refused. I did not give her my permission to return to Ithilien. Then…”

He smothered a sob. “She grabbed her silver dagger, the one I gave her as a birthday present a few years ago. She held it tightly, pressed it against her throat and…”

Gilraen was fuming. “Why would you not allow her to leave? She attempted to kill herself…she tried to…”

The tears she had been holding back were now freely trickling down her pale cheeks. “You are to blame for this. It is your fault. You truly are cruel. Why would you…”

She was shaking in anger. “I am to be married to Daerion, am I not? You gave my hand in marriage to that depraved, disgusting, utterly foul specimen of a Secondborn. That was the agreement you reached, was it not?”

“He is a good man. He saved you when I could not.”

“I wish I had died.”

“GILRAEN!”

“I wish I had died before I learned what you did to an innocent girl who just wanted to see her home again. I wish I had died before I learned what sort of despicable individual you are.”

“I did not…”

“I am leaving. I am going back to Dol Amroth. Aunt Mörwen will attend on me so that I will not have to see you again.”

She turned and walked to the door. Elessar immediately rose to his feet. “I will not allow it, Gilraen.”

“I presumed you would say it. I hoped you would.”

“You are not permitted to leave this room until your betrothed arrives.”

“You can speak his name.”

A page suddenly entered the room and bowed. “I beg your pardon my liege,” he said sheepishly. “Lord Daerion is here. He says he was summoned to discuss a matter of the utmost importance.”

Elessar stood up. “He was.” He composed himself. “Let him in.”

The page bowed once more. “My King.”

He furthered opened the door and a tall, distinguished man who could have easily passed for a gentleman made his way in. Gilraen stumbled as he stepped closer to her. “My Princess,” he saluted her before bowing to Elessar. “My liege. You honor me beyond words.”

“Come, my lord.”

Gilraen shivered as her brother’s tutor walked by her. She sighed and held her breath, trying to control her shaking hands. She stood still, her ears deaf to most of the conversation between her father and her—she nearly fainted as she allowed herself to reflect on it—future husband. She could not move, her feet unable to sustain her weight. She fell to her knees without a sound, her mind blank. She no longer knew who she was, she did not know where she was, and it did not matter to her. She had died. She was reminded of the Lady Elenna and of her pain. A pain she had only now begun to understand.

She was pulled up by a pair of arms, but she could not feel her father’s embrace. She heard his voice call her name, but she found she was unable to talk.

She blinked as she realized she was lying on her bed. She was in her chambers, her governess watching over her.

“Madam?”

Gilraen whimpered. “Estella?”

She stirred. “My head hurts.”

“I was so worried when I saw your father carrying you…”

“Why was I brought here? What happened? I cannot seem to remember.”

“I am not quite sure.”

“Did I faint?”

“I would not say so, Madam. You were…catatonic. Lord Daerion mentioned how concerned he was and…”

Gilraen jerked as her mind cleared. Being of Elven descent certainly had its own perks. “I need to leave. Tomorrow. I am going back to Dol Amroth. Tell the maids to prepare all that is needed. We are going and the Lady Elenna is coming with us.”

“Madam, I am afraid it is not possible. The King…”

“He is marrying me off to him, Estella. I did not even want to be wed, and he is entrusting me to that old creep. What have I done to deserve it? Why me, Estella, why me!?”

“Madam, I am sure there is an explanation. You need to calm down. Your father would never endanger you. You need to speak to him so that he can…”

“We are leaving, Estella. We are leaving. The three of us.”

The governess looked puzzled. “The third person being…?”

“Why, the Lady Elenna, of course! Have someone—anyone—from my household send her a message. Urge them to do as I command at once. We cannot afford to waste time. We are leaving at dawn tomorrow.”

“Madam…you need plenty of rest and…”

“I need to see Aunt Mörwen. Both my life and that of the Lady of Ithilien depend on it, do you understand?”

“Madam, you need to calm down. Perhaps if the physician examined you…”

“I need you to listen to me. I need you to do as I say. Please, Estella. We both need to go. Aunt Mörwen will help us.”

“I…”

“That is, unless you want me to kidnap the Lady Elenna and run off with her as soon as the sun sets. I have done it before, and you know I would be capable of doing it again.” She chuckled. “I did not kidnap anyone last time though. Do you think it would be an easy feat to accomplish?”

Estella glared at her but the Princess ignore her disapproving looks. “So, what is it going to be?”

The governess pursed her lips. “I will have someone send the Steward’s daughter a message.”

“I knew I could trust you. I am not marrying Daerion, and she is not marrying my brother.”

“Is this why…”

“Yes. I will not let it happen. We will both be free.”

“I do not think the King and Lord Faramir will…”

“Go, Estella. Please. Please, do as I ask.”

The governess curtsied and left, a crease on her forehead. Young Gilraen smiled and soon her smile tuned into a smirk. She would be free. Soon, they would both be free. And happy.

Yes. They would be happy. The Lady Elenna would smile too at last.

She deserves it, Gilraen thought, she deserves it more than anyone. May the Valar protect us both. I do not know her all that well, but I want her to be happy.

She blew the candle on her night table and closed her eyes. Estella was right, she did need to rest. A long journey awaited her. A long, somewhat expected journey.

Canon Character Faceclaims:

Henry Cavill as Eldarion

Original Character Faceclaims

Kaya Scodelario as Gilraen

Burcu Gül Kazbek as Estella, Gilraen's governess

Daniel Portman as Imrolas

Aidan Gillen as Daerion

Selen Öztürk as Mörwen

Tags:

@tolkienocweek

@lucifers-legions

@emmanuellececchi

@saurongorthaur9

[judesmoonbeauty]

My friend dropped this gift in my inbox when I was asleep. It’s such a sweet surprise first thing in the morning. My 2nd OC - Este. ⛓️🦋

A bit of lore about the black butterfly: This is Este’s soul after it has become fully corrupted. Her butterfly (soul), can consume the butterflies of the dead (their souls). Essentially, when she soul reads, she collects all memories, emotions, intentions etc. In time, her soul will warp and she’ll die coughing up and choking on the malice she’s consumed over many years. This is her metamorphosis. Her curse is based off the mythology of Psyche and other butterfly folktales.

Comm credit: @ reliafutu on X

[risingsh0t]

for the initial asks: f or e?

hehe thank you shell!! 💖

faye chapel: star trek. she's a xenobiologist and the younger sister of canon character, christine. always feels like she's in her successful sister's shadow and that's caused a huge rift between them... made even larger by the fact that faye decided to join the discovery crew when they permanently jumped ~900 years into the future. she struggles with coming to terms with her decision.

fitz: he was literally born like 2 days ago LMAO, so still a wip! dbd again <3 an android historian from the future. he's on the run from his creator, but ends up in the realm thanks to him.

elodie tabris: my dao warden. she's fiesty, she's full of guilt. everyone in the party helps her better comes to terms with who she is and what she's fighting for. and ofc she survives. she gets a happy ending with zev, so help me god.

estella hawthorne: my captain from the outer worlds. she's very charming, but also very goofy. she was previously a hacker, so it's still pretty new for her to be a leader and the Face of something. but she discovers she's kinda good at it.

[words-with-wren]

@chrumblr-whumblr Day Fifteen: Memory Loss

Fandom: Original work (secret of Brightwater) One day I shall figure out a plot for this story.

Word count: 700ish

__

Izzy sat at the edge of the camp. It was a quiet night, the evening bustle of the camp having settled into the slow comfort of nighttime. She could hear the soft pops of the dying fire not far away, as well as soft noises from the nocturnal animals in the trees surrounding them. 

Above, the stars glowed in a powerful light, casting the world in a strange, unearthly glow. The mood was just visible, peering over the tops of the trees and Izzy stared at it for a long time. It had shone in the sky for as long as she could remember, but every time she saw it she felt a strange awe, like it wasn’t something she was used to seeing. 

As long as she could remember wasn’t really an impressive feat anyway. 

Tonight was a good night, at least--she was pretty sure it was. When you can’t remember one day to the next reliable, it was hard to tell what was good and what wasn’t. But she remembered a lot. She remembered her name, she remembered why she was at this camp. She remembered that she often forgot. 

None of that was sure. So she would take the good and enjoy it. 

She was writing in her notebook, capturing the quiet evening while she could. Maybe tomorrow she would wake and this whole night would be gone, never to return. Best hold onto it while she could. 

Someone moved behind her and Izzy jerked her head up, glancing behind her. A shadow moved across the ground between her and the fire. 

“Hello?” she called softly. 

“Oh. Izzy.” It was Estella, slipping through the quiet camp. She shifted her route and moved to stand beside the log Izzy was seated on. “I didn’t see you there.” 

Izzy hummed, adding the note to her book. Estella joined me. I don’t know much about her yet, and I don’t think I ever have. 

“What are you doing wandering around so late?” Izzy asked. 

“Bathroom,” Estella said with a long sigh. “I was trying to find my way back to my tent.” 

Izzy nodded. Then she shifted slightly to one side, as though making room on the log, even though there was plenty. An invitation. Estella accepted it, taking a seat beside her. 

“Is it always so… rough,” Estella said with a sigh, running her hand through her hair. With a sidelong glance, Izzy could see it was lose but lightly curled. Well kept for. Her own hair was kept short, and was unmanageable enough as it was. 

“I’m not really the best person to ask about that,” Izzy said dryly. “But from my memory, yeah. That’s part of what you signed up for.” 

Estella sighed, a long, drawn out sigh. Izzy hid a smile. 

“How long have you been here?” she asked after a moment. 

“I’m not sure,” Izzy admitted. While it was a good day, there were still…gaps. There always would be, she supposed. Always gaps about what happened before, how she ended up lying on the side of the road with no memories. 

Gaps about her childhood, about how she had come to be here, about who…

“You’re not sure?” Estella asked. 

Izzy nodded. 

“My…my memory comes and goes.” She waved a hand, pen still in it. “Gets frustrating.” 

“Oh. I imagine so,” Estella said. Izzy hid a grim smile, unsure if anyone could imagine what it was like to be unable to rely on your own memory. 

“Makes it hard to hold onto anything.” Usually, she would open up so much so quickly. Especially not to someone she hadn’t written about in her book. But there was something about the moon-lit air that made it easier to speak. 

Maybe tomorrow she’d have forgotten about this conversation altogether. 

“Sometimes I wish I could forget some things,” Estella said softly. Izzy glanced sideways at her, trying to remember exactly when she had joined the group. Recently, she knew. She was a friend of Ronan’s. From his past. 

It wasn’t coming, and she knew trying to force the memory wouldn’t help. If she even actually knew to begin with. 

“Everyone wants what they don’t have,” she said. Estella hummed quickly, and the two of them sat together in companionable silence as the night drew on. 

[desrukia]

hai im hab and i dm and play and stuff.

tag for the campaign i dm is #desrukia

most other things will be tagged #dmref or #genref

tags for any of the pcs in the campaign i dm will be #pc: name

tags for any npcs in my campaign will be #npc: name

tags for any of my personal pcs when im not dming will be oc:name

keep up...

[xxxriikaxxx]

Sigh I haven’t been feeding you tumblrians here you go skibidis art dump

[stinkiesdraws]

(⁠人⁠*⁠´⁠∀⁠｀⁠)⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+ I finished the first Eleven questions for the OC Meme!!! My ask box always open for questions ✨

[eatyourmaker]

The sillies

[yuarose]

Another AU concept, possibly after Inner Park / Inner Demons.

[gojostan-doodles]

The Damned One!! ☄️✨🗣️

an early birthday gift for my homie @stinkiesdraws of her oc Nick! (⁠ﾉ⁠◕⁠ヮ⁠◕⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠*⁠.⁠✧

[kingsillysmilez]

Everypony loves a good sparkle

[danarch1st]

[judesmoonbeauty]

Estella Wist ཐིཋྀ

Introducing my second OC: Estella Wist.

Art: Neka site

Height: 5’5 Birthdate: 4/9 Nickname: Este Hair Color: Pastel misty purple Eye Color: Glassy Gray Markings: She has a beauty in between the left corner of her eye and nose. Weapon of choice: Baseball bat, Anything sharp. Likes: Social functions, cozy nights at home and black nail polish. Dislikes: Being in confined spaces.

Ships with: Ellis Twilight Ship name: Elles (Pronounced like: L’s)

Curse: The Butterfly taken by the mythology of Psyche and other folktales.

Ability: When people die, she can see their souls in the form of butterflies, and the condition of the butterflies (souls). She can then extract everything that makes up their souls, such as thoughts, feelings, memories etc. When she extracts from them(essentially information gathers), she’s feeding her own soul (butterfly), much like a butterfly sucking on nectar.

Fated End: Her own soul (her butterfly), will become warped and blackened from her soul-feeding on the departed, ultimately facing death.

Personality: She is an ambivert, but leans closer to the extroverted side. Very fun, outgoing, interested in people, kind and crazy.

Crown Relationships:

Ellis: She adores Ellis. She loves him very dearly. Since Ellis sometimes gets anxious about his past and certain memories he can't seem to recall very well, she does her best to soothe him. He was pretty taken aback by how bluntly asked him to *ahem* be her lover, but he agrees anyway. Este loves accompanying Ellis on his missions because.......she gets to read souls........ a lot.

Jude: He views her like an annoying, loud pest sister. He thinks she's almost as crazy as Ellis, and he hates the fact that she calls him Judy. He finds her ability quite handy for intel gathering, and he's disturbed that she does everything in her power to help Ellis make Jude happy so she can eventually read his soul and see it's form. Still, he'll protect her if he needs to do so. After all, Jude thinks Ellis & Este suit each other.

Isla: Isla is Este's first true friend, and even though Isla tries to avoid Este as much as possible at first, circumstances make that impossible. Este often tries to get Isla involved with school activites, as Este is the leader of the fundraising club. No matter how odd Este is, Isla accepts her and treats her with respect and kindness. Still, she tries to curb Este's desire to help Ellis make Jude happy.....

Roger: She gets on quite well with Roger the way Isla does, but for different reasons. While she doesn't want to suffer her fate, she now has Ellis who promises to end her before that happens, so she doesn't really care if her curse is broken or not. Essentially, she likes Roger because he has a soft spot for Ellis, and anyone who likes Ellis is okay in her book.

Harrison: She doesn't engage with Harry too often, not that she doesn't like him, but because he can detects when she lies. Not that she is a liar in general, but she doesn't like confessing the truth about how she really feels sometimes. While Este is outgoing, her mind is fragile like a butterfly wing. Being read so easily isn't a fun past time for a soul-reader.

Liam: Este's second real friend. When these two social butterflies meet, they quickly become BFFS. Liam also picks up on when Este is not feeling like herself as he does with Isla, and he listens to her. The two have a lot fun shopping together as well, and like trying out cosmetics together.

Victor: She loves Victor as the leader of Crown (especially since he encourages her evil), and adores his cooking. Sometimes though, she has issues with how secretive he can be, but ultimately, he loves his Crown boys and he adores Ellis, so anyone who loves Ellis is again - okay in her book.

Alfons & Elbert: She thinks Elbert needs to eat more. Like a lot more. She is often trying out new recipes and bringing them to him to eat, while Alfons tries to tell her it's a waste of her time since. While she doesn't mind Alfons on the whole, she doesn't care for his nonchalant attitude sometimes. They bicker quite a bit. And Elbert usually has to tell them to quiet down.

William: She thinks that William is someone to be looked up to since he often wants others to experience freedom. Este and William will paint each other's nails and William will often give her advice when she feels like she is being confined by her thoughts.

Vogel Relationships: (TBD)

Well, well, this turned out to be way more than what I thought it would be, but I've been cooking Estella for a while. I just haven't had anytime to actually pan out the details of her curse or who she is. I am very excited for her character as she is instrumental in Isla's lore. Now, I just need to spruce up my precious Isla.

[littlebugsboy]

did i make another hpma oc? yes, yes i did because i can

MEET ESTELLA :D

[words-with-wren]

@chrumblr-whumblr Day Ten: Whipping

Fandom: Original Work! Secret of Brightwater again. My boy Ronan backstory, as well as meeting two, arguably three, of the most important people family members he's got.

Word count: 1,741

___

The dawn air was cold, and Ronan’s breath billowed out in front of him like smoke. He huddled deeper into his thin cloak, wrapping it around the threadbare cloth that served as his clothes. The sun wasn’t even fully up, and fog filled the grounds. 

He shuffled along with the other slaves, woken up before first light unexpectedly. They were still yawning, eyes rubbed, faces drawn and bleary-eyed. But all dozen of them had been pulled out of bed. 

Ronan wasn’t sure why. He’d learned asking questions was never useful though. For now, he shuffled along in the midst of the other slaves, listening to the muffled discussion of their guard. 

“Any idea what’s happening?” someone asked. Ronan shook his head, not wanting to answer. He was still new here, still finding his place in this manor. He’d arrived about a month ago, bought and sold like property, put to work in the small fields around the manor. 

He still hadn’t figured out the dynamics of the place. There were three hired guards, and under them two head slaves, in charge of half a dozen men each. For now, Ronan’s main efforts was to keep his head down and avoid being noticed. 

Usually, it worked. But usually they weren’t dragged out of bed before the sun even rose into a freezing morning. The ground crunched with ice as he walked over it. 

They were led to the back of the manor, a place he had passed many times but never really stopped at. It was a area separated off by a row of hedges, and in the center a small platform. Here, a crowd had gathered--all of the people on this property, Ronan realised. He’d never seen everyone in one place before. 

He found his place among the fieldslaves, shifting from foot to foot in an effort to keep as much warmth in as possible. Across the square stood the house slaves, mostly maids and cooks, huddled together. One of them--a middle aged woman, was clearly struggling not to weep. A third group made up the hired men--mercenaries, scribes and other higher up servants. Paid. Not owned. 

Standing on the platform stood Lord Bloodborne himself. Ronan had seen the many only a few times, a large, imposing figure with a full, black beard. He rarely visited the fields but when he did, made it clear the slaves were beneath him. Ronan had once seen him strike a man for even looking at him. 

He fought the instinct to lower his gaze. 

Beside Lord Bloodborne stood a girl, probably around Ronan’s age. Her dirty blonde hair was long, flowing the entire way down her back, held back by a intricately woven headband. She was wearing a blue dress, her hands folded in front of her, her face expressionless. 

Somehow, Ronan recognised that expression, or lack of. A schooled carefully designed mask that hid her true emotions. 

Kneeling at Lord Bloodborne’s feet was a boy. He looked maybe fifteen years old, not that much younger than Ronan himself, shaggy dark hair covering his face. Ronan had seen him around a few times--he was the son of one of the house slaves. The woman who was trying her hardest not to cry. Jasper, his name was. They’d exchanged a few words before. 

His hands were bound in front of him, and he was breathing heavily. Ronan felt a twisting feeling in his chest. He balled his fist in the fabric of his cloak. 

“Let this be a lesson to you all,” Lord Bloodborne said. He was holding a whip in one hand. His voice carried through the early morning fog, booming across the grounds. Again, Ronan fought the urge to lower his gaze. “This boy was found stealing from my home. That kind of behaviour will not stand.” 

Ronan gritted his teeth, anger burning steadily in his chest. He dropped his expression to the icey grass, wishing he could do something. Wishing he was brave enough to stop it. 

He’d never been brave though. Even as a child, running half-wild in the woods near his home. He’d always followed the lead of the others, been hesitant and unsure of himself. He’d never been one to stand up to bullies. 

Even still, the sound of rope on flesh and the shout of pain from the boy made him feel sick. 

“He’s just a child!” Jasper’s mother cried out, and Ronan looked up to see her stepping forward, eyes red and wet. 

Again, he felt sick. All of these people here, and no one was doing anything to help. Only the mother of the boy, one woman standing up to the cruelty. If he wasn’t so afraid of being the boy under the whip, Ronan would feel nothing but shame. 

“He is my property and will learn respect,” Lord Bloodborne snarled, and brought the whip down again. Jasper grunted in pain and Ronan squeezed his eyes shut. 

He remembered the stories his mother had told him when he was a child. Stories of heroes and saviours, swooping in at the last moment to save the day. But Ronan was not that hero, he was a coward. He was afraid. 

Three more times the whip came down, and Ronan didn’t look. He kept his eyes down, squeezed shut. But after the fifth strike, someone did speak up. 

A soft voice, a girl’s voice. 

“Father.” 

The girl beside Lord Bloodborne had laid her hand on his arm, and was staring up at him with a serious expression, pleading with him. He stared at her for a long moment, the scoffed, lowering his arm. 

“Let that be a lesson to you all,” he called. “You will respect my property and know your place.” 

He stared with satisfaction at Jasper, his back a mess of bruises, lying on the ground. Then he turned and stepped off the platform, returning to the manor. Jasper’s scurred forward, crouching beside him. 

Ronan stepped forward as well. He wasn’t sure why, wasn’t sure what exactly caused him to move. It was a hypocritical action, now the danger was over. But ever since he was small he had always been unable to see something or someone in pain. 

Everyone else moved, heading back to the warmth of their quarters for a meal before the day’s work began. But Ronan couldn’t bring himself to leave, not quite yet. 

Bloodborne’s daughter stood for a moment, staring down at Jasper and his mother. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered softly, then with a glance towards Ronan, elegantly hurried after her father. Ronan couldn’t help but watch her go for a moment, enchanted with the way her hair flowed behind her. 

“I’m okay,” Jasper said weakly. His mother crouched beside him, cupping his face in his hands. 

“What have I told you,” she said, her voice catching. “You need to be more careful.” 

“I’m super careful,” Jasper muttered. “He just wanted an excuse.” 

Ronan stood awkwardly, hovering above the scene. He wasn’t quite sure how to join it, not sure what to do--if he even should do something. Perhaps it was too late to do anything. He sat down on the platform beside Jasper anyway. 

“Can I help?” he asked, voice hesitant. Jasper’s mother looked at him with a start, her expression softening as she saw him. 

“We’d best get him inside so I can take a proper look at him. It doesn’t look like the skin was broken,” she added, addressing the last to her son. 

“I’m too tough,” Jasper muttered. But when Ronan silently helped lift him, taking most of the younger boy’s weight, he couldn’t help a few noises of pain. 

Between Ronan and Jasper’s mother, they brought him inside. Ronan hadn’t been inside the manor before--he spent most of his time in the small building that housed the slaves. It was strange, how much this place reminded him of home, of the kitchen quarters he and his friends used to--

No. He wasn’t thinking about that. The here and now was important. The past didn’t matter anymore. 

“Lie him down here,” Jasper’s mother directed, leading him into a small room. Jasper was silent now, breathing shallowly. His mother fussed over him, pulling medicine out of a cupboard, while Ronan stood awkwardly aside, still unsure if he should even be here. 

Jasper’s mother was satisfied a moment later, leaving him to sleep and she let out a long sigh, sitting on the ground beside the bed. She looked up at Ronan and smile. 

“Thank you, dear,” she said. “I don’t think we’ve met yet. What’s your name?”  

Ronan blinked, suddenly surprised he was actually being addressed. He didn’t want to think about how long it had been since someone had spoken to him. 

“Ronan,” he said. It had been so long since he had spoken his name. That was all he remembered from his full title. 

“Thank you, Ronan,” she said. She grabbed the side of Jasper’s bed and lifted herself to her feet. “My name is Jen.” 

Ronan gave her a small smile, unable to fully meet her eyes. On the bed, Jasper groaned and shifted. 

“I’m sorry,” Ronan said quietly.

“Whatever for, dear?” Jen asked. She crouched beside her son, laying a hand on his shoulder. 

“I should have…should have done something more,” he said softly, voice a bare whisper. His mother’s stories were the only thing he let himself remember about before. The heroes and legends from those tales--they would not have let this happen. 

“Oh.” Jen stood, turning her attention fully on him. She stepped forward, reaching out to grasp his hand in her’s. “Oh, honey,” she said softly. “You can’t be blamed for that.” 

Ronan blinked, not sure how to process that, exactly. Her hands were warm, cupped around his, and he focused on that. He couldn’t meet her eyes, staring at the ground. 

“This life is hard and cruel. No one can blame you for keeping your head down.” 

A hand cupped his face, and she gently lifted his head and suddenly, Ronan remembered his mother. Not just her stories, but his mother, wrapping him in her arms, resting her head on his chin playfully, tucking him into bed, patching up a bruise.

His vision blurred. 

Jen pulled him into a hug. He was taller than her, and he wondered if he would be taller than his own mother now. The thought was enough to finally bring the tears to his eyes. 

[huntertheegg69]

South Park oc

First post so here is a little introduction of my South Park oc

She has been created in 2021 but I'm posting her here now LOL

Idk if people here on tumblr hate ocs/oc x canon like on tik tok XD

THIS OC IS >NOT< A SELF INSERT