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aethelwyneleigh27 · 4 months ago

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Our Throne of Ruin

Chapter One: Blood-Stained Hand of a Royal

Plus-size/Chubby afab! fem! Princess!Reader x Villain!Simon

Warnings and Disclaimers: Violence, Assault, and Attempted Sexual Assault?? (Not by Simon, it is disgusting and uncomfortable so please do not continue if you have a faint heart), Gore, Severed Body Parts, Decapitation.

Genres: Romance, x Reader Insert, Alternate Universe, Dark Fantasy, Fantasy AU, Royalty AU, Villain AU, Arranged Marriage, Dark Romance??

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Next Chapter

"My lady, these appear to be exceedingly valuable," Leticia, your young handmaiden, exclaimed breathlessly as she held up the ruby-encrusted silver earrings against your ears to see how they would look on you.

"I'm certain the lord who dispatched it desires a royal womb for their heirs," you said with a scoff, rolling your eyes, as you favored jewelry received as genuine gifts over bribes.

Leticia offered a simple smile, setting aside the jewelry she held into the untouched box, and instead, she searched for the ones you favored most… gold, diamonds, and pearls.

Earrings that match the pearls and gold details on the bodice of your dress perfectly, complemented by a crown crafted from the same materials as the jewels dangling from your ears.

Your senior handmaiden, Agatha, attempted to kneel and place your walking jewelry on your feet.

"Agatha! What are you doing?" you exclaimed, though the answer was clear to you. Before she could reply, you interjected, "No, please. I appreciate your willingness to serve, but don't kneel; it could injure you."

With a sigh, you stood from your vanity seat and helped her to her feet. She responded with a smile brimming with thankfulness.

"As kind and caring as ever, Your Highness," she said, lifting the small basin filled with rosewater to wash your hands, then gently wiping them with a white cloth dampened in the scented water.

The gods are aware that the woman has aged gracefully, yet there's concern she may injure herself with the relentless demanding tasks handmaidens endure. You slip on your shoes while Leticia unravels your hair from the curling cloths.

"What would you like done with your hair, my lady?"

"Pearls, Leticia…" you murmured, gazing into the mirror.

Once your handmaidens had finished preparing you, Leticia suggested a leisurely walk. She knew you might use this as the perfect opportunity to have an encounter with those vying for affection.

With a light melody on your lips, you wandered the castle's ramparts with an air of freedom.

You turn to a corner to find a man, only you could assume was a contender as well. Dressed in whatever garb their nation was to consider fashion, he had two knights along either side of him. The way he held himself, you could already tell. How arrogant.

You walked past him without much care to greet him, a test to see how he'd take rejection. He commands his knights to leave him be, striding next to you.

"I must admit I wasn't expecting to be graced with your presence so soon." He said you didn't respond verbally. Instead choosing to raise a brow at his statement, clearly not realizing that he's talking to you far too casually for your liking.

He scoffs, trying to wrap his arm around your shoulder to which you shrugged his hand off. "You reek of ale and brothels" you whispered to yourself as you subtly waved off the smell of his breath from your face.

You felt an almost cracking pain on your wrist as you were yanked back, your eyes widened, he had heard you.

You tried to free yourself but instead, he pulled the clasp and chain of your necklace, effectively choking you with the decorative metal against your skin. You pried your hands between it and your neck, desperately trying to claw his grip off.

The pain was unlike anything you had ever experienced, burning intensely. Your breaths were shallow and frantic. Tears welled up uncontrollably, spilling over.

It felt as though the muffled choking sounds were yours alone as your body convulsed. Your windpipe seemed to be caving under an unyielding grip, with every attempt to breathe met by an impenetrable barrier.

A wet, sloppy tongue dragged across your cheek, leaving a slimy trail that made your skin crawl. The unexpected touch was cold and clammy, like the lick of a serpent, and the stench of sour mixed with the pungent smell of fermented bitterness in his breath lingered in the air.

Your stomach churned with disgust as your body flinched away from his chest which he forcibly pressed against your back. Disgusting bastard, his chuckling fueled your nerves with more anger and fear.

"Pretty, defenseless little princess.." You attempted to protest, but it emerged as nothing more than a feeble whimper.

Someone, help me. Please...

You prayed for the air, for someone...

It wasn't until he was yanked away that you heard a thud, and you began to violently cough, the pressure on your throat finally easing. Collapsing to your knees, you groaned from the sudden pain, crawling away before turning to see what had transpired.

The man who just attempted to assault you on the ground and unconscious as an unrecognizable but broad figure retreated to the shadows out of the corner of your eye, just observing.

All your life, you've felt like s prey to the disgusting eyes of men older than your father, this wasn't new.

"My lady!" The scream of your handmaiden, Leticia, echoed as she rounded the corner in search of you. Panic etched her features, tears brimming at the sight of the redness on your neck.

You deemed it unwise to inform your king of the incident, especially since he was the one attempting to auction you off to a man who fancied himself a god among men.

You dusted your gown off as you instructed Leticia to ask for a tonic at the castle's apothecary, your throat nearly giving out at the soreness.

You had opted to seek solace at your place of worship before continuing through the not-so-exciting festivities your father arranged, despite your attempts to distract yourself, you cannot shake off the feeling of being watched.

Something waiting to pounce at you from within the shadows..

Prayer beads, it wasn't in your pockets.

You continue to pat around your body. "My lady, you seem troubled. Is something amiss?" Leticia asked, concern never leaving her tone since the events that transpired.

"My prayer beads, I must've misplaced or dropped them earlier," You mumbled.

"Oh.." was all she could respond, she knew how cherished that item was to you, being passed down from your mother.

"I'll make sure to find them later on, I swear that on my own mother," she lifted her palm, and a small smile broke from your lips at the promise.

You get up from your knees to set the candle you've lit down on the foot of the monument of the goddess of marriage and fertility, payers inclined to help you find a husband, unlike your father. Hoping your mother will also hear your prayers in the afterlife.

"Leticia, my shawl please" You sighed. She slipped the thin fabric over your exposed shoulders and replaced your colored veil with your earlier embellishments.

...

You composed yourself as well as possible, attempting to breathe steadily and keep your eyes open to avoid flashes of the experience from just a few hours before by picking the skin next to your nails.

Gripping your aching neck, you felt the imprints of the recent assault. As your gaze shifted to the entrance, the massive doors groaned, pushed open by the servants outside.

From the comfort of your cushioned throne, you surveyed the assembly, noting how the sound redirected their attention to the entrance, just as your eyes had done moments before.

The usual commotion and conversation that overlapped one another at such an event died out faster than poison could kill a rat, all sounds replaced by the clanking of metal... most can recognize the hollow sound of armor and the sharp end of a sword scratching the stone floor.

There a familiar broad man stood. You can't quite put your finger on it, but his face is like something out of your dreams, masked with a knight's great helm.

The silence was defending as he left the people speechless or much rather afraid to speak of anything, covered in blood and some flesh stood a stranger.

He made his way in, the crowds of nobles making a path for him as he did. The carpet beneath him somehow cushioning his heavily metal-cladded steps.

Your eyes widened at the sight of the stranger as he got closer, only now seeing what he had by his side while he hastily threw his great helm on the ground to pay his respect in court.

The severed head of the noble who tried to lay a hand on you, holding it by the fistful of hair as the blood from the neck stained the fur carpet below it.

You hear the king beside you as he chokes. He could not control his breathing, seeming to be on the verge of a heart attack.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?! YOU INSOLENT BASTARD, YOU'LL PAY FOR THIS!" One of the nobles in the crowd screamed with much anger, must be his father or a figure of some sort.

The man attempts to lunge at the man in armor but is held back by three of the palace knights. Loud clanking as the lord hit the armored men over and over.

Oddly enough, you weren't terrified after the initial shock. The man that stood before you severed the head of the same man who tried to commit an unforgivable act on you, it was almost poetic in its own way... satisfying even.

He knelt before you instead of your father, much to your surprise. Gasps and murmurs emulated from the nobles and royals present, apart from the screaming guardian of the beheaded suitor.

He had no respect for the head he held as he threw it on the side, having it roll to the king's feet who had no words of offense as he was too shocked to utter anything but silent stuttering.

On one knee the man with blood-soaked presumably light hair remained, his head down, eyes still on the floor. You stood up from your throne, head held high as you walked towards the armored fellow.

The intricate precious metal encrusted with priceless jewels hung on your ears and swayed along with the ones in your hair. The train of your silk gown flows effortlessly behind you.

Your eyes on him at every step, he lifted his gaze from down below onto you, his hand shifting. Uncertain of what to anticipate, you watched as he extended his hand toward you, palm open, the callouses on his fingers beckoning you closer.

You care not for the blood that stained his hand and caked under his nails, so you hesitantly slipped your fingers in his, heart pounding out of your chest as the stranger bathed in blood grinned at seeing your hand in his.

He gripped your hand in the most gentle way you've ever had anyone touch you. He lightly tugged on your arm and let you naturally step closer with his guidance as he brought the back of your hand up to his lips.

You felt his dry yet warm lips on your knuckles, eyes up on you as he looked for approval. You blinked, and for a moment your eyes drifted to the severed head.. its own open but soulless before you reverted your gaze back to the man who has your hand.

With another kiss on your ring, he releases your hand. You gaze at it, noticing how the blood has stained it in an effortlessly abstract pattern.

Breathlessly staring at your hand, now tainted with the filthy blood of one of the bastards who hurt and wronged you. Staring back at you, presenting an opportunity on a silver platter, all just for you...

A/n: I know this series will come more likely with backlash because of the reader's body description being so specific, the gore, and just the general dark fantasy aspect however I find it difficult to write for something I cannot insert myself in as it is where I build my ideas from. I know that the listed warnings are quite dark, but I am new to writing dark fantasy, I know that dark romance is very controversial, but I don't know if this counts as one of them. This is a very long one, and I hope you all enjoy it. Also new dividers from @/cafekitsune, as always 👀

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