the two of us are just young gods

liam harrison blackburn//twenty four//bastard

Liam rode atop his black stallion at a lazy trot, only one hand on the reins and the other at his side, resting on his thigh. A few of his friends rode along behind him, chatting about who was the fastest, as if it were some competition. Liam didn't see it that way. He did not ride to beat the others to the destination. He did so because when he rode, he felt free. The wind would seem to carry him, as if the horse had wings, and he almost felt like he could escape. Almost. But they always ended up coming back for one reason or another.

And so as Liam trotted back into the courtyard, on his way to the stables, his lips seemed to have formed a permanent frown. Though it quickly faded as he caught sight of Anastasia. He had caught a glimpse of her before, when she first arrived. Though now he could truly see just how much she had grown. She was still small compared to him, but she had grown much taller and had filled out her curves. And though now she looked like a woman, he began to wonder if she was still that little girl he used to roughhouse with - even if it was deep down.

The queen was exiting the gardens and walking across the courtyard with purpose. Her movements were graceful, almost like a dancer, but also rushed as she walked in the direction of the forests.

"Anastasia!" He called out, after realizing where she was headed. He slowed his horse down to a halt and the others followed his lead. The queen did not.

"Anastasia!" The name rung out into the air, but apparently not loud enough for her to hear. So the bastard dismounted his horse and handed the reins over to his friend. The friend nodded to confirm he would bring his horse, Thor, back to the stables.

Liam then turned back toward the queen, who was still nearing the forest. Closer and closer.

He walked toward her at a quick pace, but it wasn't quick enough, so he picked up speed until finally he was jogging in her direction. And as he reached her, just before she entered the forest, he placed a hand on her arm to hold her back. He then turned her round to face him - both of his hands holding onto her arms.

"Ana." His tone was serious as he lapsed into the informal. "Young girls, royals, queens do not leave the castle alone. Especially as night is almost upon us."

Anastasia tried to speak, but he cut her off quickly. "Do not go into those woods, do you hear me?"

Liam himself was no royal, and yet he had royal blood, and so he was not used to showing manners of any sorts. He treated all as equal, and especially Anastasia as the little girl he used to play with.

"Do you not remember that Forest Dwellers live in these woods?" His pale blue eyes glanced toward the forest in question before sliding back toward Anastasia.

liam harrison blackburn//twenty four//bastard

Liam listened to her words and decided that she was just as stubborn as he remembered her to be. He could recall how they would argue about everything they could think of. He would say left, she would say right. He would say black, she would say white. This caused the corners of his lips to tug upward into a smile as he slowly let his hands fall from her arms.

"I suggest you go back to the castle, where there is food and warmth." His words were kind, not at all demanding. He wasn't exactly one to give orders. He simply wanted his childhood friend to be safe, and the forest was not safe.

"Or would you rather be back at the temple? Eating porridge and trudging through mud." His eyes lit up as he spoke and his lips were spread into a cheeky smile. "Perhaps they will send you back for misbehaving."

His words were teasing, but there was still a kindness to his gaze. He didn't want their first meeting to not be any fun. He wasn't a prince, not an heir to the Lumare throne, or any throne. He was allowed to have fun. Unlike his brother, Henry, who was not much fun at all unless you were the woman he was currently bedding. The two of them had nothing in common except their father, really, though they still got along just fine. Anastasia had been the one who had mostly held them all together, though. Since her departure, the brothers had grown more distant.

It was then that he noticed the sky darkening around them and the once warm breeze now giving him chills. The people were leaving the courtyard and hurrying inside of the palace with excited whispers and nervous glances.

Liam gestured in their direction with a dramatic flare. "It seems the celebration is starting. I'm sure my brother is wondering whee you are, as I assume he asked to escort you." Then, glancing down at himself, covered in sweat and riding gear, he told her, "I would, but, well..."

His laughter rang out into the chilled air, a gruff noise that was not keen on the ears, but was a familiar sound around the palace. He was known to have a good time without having to take women to bed and drinking himself into a stupor. Though more often than not, he spent his time reading sonnets or sketching in his notes.

Glancing again toward his own clothes, he decided he would have to be quick about changing. Though he was a bastard, he was still was expected to attend the celebration. It came with the fact that his father favored him.

henry branton blackburn//twenty three//heir of lumare

Henry had been wandering the halls in search of his fiance. He had gone to her chambers to escort her, but they had been empty. Concern etched Henry's features, but he decided he shouldn't worry just yet. Anastasia had always gone off on her own as a child and he was a fool to think that might have changed.

Just as he was turning a corner, he practically ran into the queen. The prince stumbled to catch himself so that they didn't collide. For a split second, his eyes were wide and blinking. Then he noticed who it was and he seemed to relax.

Reaching out, Henry took her hand in his and bent to kiss her knuckles. He then stood upright once more, keeping her hand in his, and told her, "Anastasia. Glad to see you well. I was just looking for you to escort you to the celebration."

The prince held his arm out for her and she took it. His lips curled into a smile as he said, "Shall we?"

The two smiled at each other before making their way toward the feasting hall. It was only a few halls away and it took no time to reach them. The wide madder doors opened for them and instantly his ears were hit with the wave of music from the orchestra and the dull chatter of the crowd. Most eyes turned to stare at them and watch their approach. Both were wearing deep colors, black and golds, as if they had planned such a thing.

As they made their way through the crowd, Henry brought her to the thrones which sat atop a higher elevated stage with steps leading up to them on either side. These were the second sets of thrones, less showy than the ones in the actual throne room. Sitting in the thrones were King Earl and Queen Annabella. Next to the king was his trusted hound, Bjorn, who was the best hunting dog in the kennels with his lean body and fast feet. Next to the queen was her own hound, Cinna, who had whelped many pups by Bjorn and lived the most lavish lifestyle of any dog. In Lumare, it was custom for the king and queen to each have their own hound - to hunt with and guard them, as well as keep them company.

The young princes, Layton and Ryland, were running around below the stage. They were thrown into a fit of laughter as they chased each other, though paused to quickly greet Anastasia before playing chase again. Their mother looked like she wanted to scold them, but did not.

The princess, Elizabella, stood off to the side. She was sipping her wine and pretending to enjoy her conversation with one of the lesser lords. He was a squat man by the name of Lord Pindle with hairy arms and chest and a bald head. His teeth were crooked and yellow and, by the looks of it, his breath wasn't much better. Elizabella straightened out the skirt of her rich blue gown and glanced away with a heavy sigh. She then sipped at her wine before noticing Anastasia. She smiled wanly in greeting before the lord laughed and startled her.

Near the queen was a young man, not too much older than Henry, who wore a robe and his hood covered his face.

"Anastasia." The king greeted with a toothy smile. One could see his dimples as he did so. "I do hope that this celebration is well suited to you, as it is for your arrival."

The queen seemed disinterested and instead placed her clasped hands into the deep purple skirt of her dress. Her hair was still in its long braid and atop her head was the same tiara from dinner.

The king watched Anastasia intently, though every once in a while he glanced toward a passing lady. He wore the same outfit and the same crown, but a much more pleased expression.

Anastasia's ladies stood in the back corner and watched the interaction from afar, as most did.

//sorry this is shit, i swear my next one will be better//

henry branton blackburn//twenty three//heir of lumare

Henry noticed how Anastasia had kept her arm looped in with his. It made him wonder if she had done this for appearances or not. Nevertheless, he kept his arm linked with hers and his strong hand resting on her bicep.

King Earl seemed pleased by her answer since his smile only grew. Then a servant approached with a golden tray and he took the goblet from him without actually looking in his general direction. He then swirled the frothy wine in his bejeweled goblet before sipping at it. He smiled again, still pleased, before waving his arm at them.

"Go on then. Enjoy yourselves. I don't need you here to entertain me. I can do that myself." He paused and looked behind them. Henry turned his head slightly to glance back himself.

Mistress Emalyn approached wearing a rather scandalous dress of her own - deep blues with flowers embroidered and sheer fabrics as her skirts. Around her neck was a chain of sapphires that he knew his father had given her.

Emalyn moved gracefully toward his father, going to stand next to his throne with her hand resting atop his shoulder. Her fingers slid down her arm as she smiled down at him. Then her gaze met Anastasia's and the smile slowly faded.

Queen Annabella bit at the inside of her cheek and leaned slightly away from the pair - resting her elbow on the throne chair and her chin in her hand.

Henry frowned at this, unhappy with the way his mother had been treated all his life. The mistress had been around since he was an infant and so he never knew a time without her. He wondered if there ever was one.

Henry bowed his head to his father before turning away and leading Anastasia away from the stage. He hated that she had to witness his family's dynamic, especially within her very first day of being there. He could only hope that this celebration would lighten the mood.

The prince led her toward the center, though a bit away from the dancing. He watched a few dance for a moment, listened to their chatter and laughter, before turning back toward his fiance. His lips turned up into a wry smile, as he was unsure of how to proceed.

"You look absolutely fetching tonight." He commented, slowly lowering his arm from hers. Though he made sure to stand unreasonably close to her, the way a new couple would.

Even though he was acting for the sake of their alliance, majority of it was not false. She was very pretty and had bloomed into a woman over the years. No man could deny such claims. She was graceful and elegant, but still as adventurous as when they were children. The thought made him smile.

Glancing again toward the dancers, his smile grew and he asked her, "Would you like to dance?"

He lifted his hand to her, his eyes almost pleading her to take it. Not only for appearances, but because this would be the first of many dances they shared together.

Henry smiled to himself at how eager she was to dance with him. Part of him wondered if it was all an act or if she genuinely cared for him. He would always see her as a trusted friend, but was it possible for them to become more? Would their companionship bloom into one of romance?

As the prince led her out to the center of the dance floor, the people parting as they moved past, their chatting growing to quiet whispers, he seemed to only have eyes for her. He didn't care which nobles or dukes were watching, he didn't care about the envious glares his previous lovers were giving them. His eyes were only watching the way she moved gracefully, gliding forward, as if she were floating on air.

Reaching the center, Henry stood before her and bowed as she curtsied. Then he raised his hand in the air to show that he meant to do the traditional couples dance, often done at weddings. He thought it would be nice to show their loyalty to each other and their alliance this way.

Anastasia raised her own hand before his, their hands an inch apart, and yet he could still feel her - the air between them buzzing with tension. Then he moved to his left, in a circle, as she stepped to her right, following his lead. The point of the first half of the dance was to not touch at all, and so they moved slowly and kept eye contact, but never touched.

Henry changed direction and she followed suit - their hands switching and the other clasped behind their backs. Then Henry and Anastasia moved away, turning their backs to each other, before spinning back around. They ran toward each other, but stopped right before they would touch. Henry's hands were floating beside her hips as he moved in a circle once more - swaying along with her.

The crowd watched avidly - clearly enthralled by the performance. Henry was no amateur dancer, as he had attended many parties before. Though he was usually less sober at this point.

Then Henry's hands grasped her hips as the music gained in tempo and he moved in quicker circles. His feet moved in a flurry along with the orchestra that was playing for them.

The prince then reached for her hand and raised it above her head to twirl her - the black skirts of her gown flowing beneath. As she finished, he pulled her closer to him so that they were chest to chest. And as he held her close to him, he couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips.

Then, for the finale, as the music was ending, Henry reached behind her head, his other arm wrapping around her waist. He dipped her low and slowly, their faces inches apart. He could feel her warm breath mingling with his. During weddings, this would be the part where they kissed. Henry considered it, but instead hardened his features once more and stood her back up.

The crowd applauded and whistled at their performance. Henry bowed, still holding Anastasia's hand clasps in his. He thought back to how he didn't kiss her, to the way his heart had been pounding, to the fear that coursed through his veins.

"You dance well." Henry told her, breathless. The dancing had taken quite a toll on him, as he had never been the most athletic. He decided then that he needed a drink.

"Wait here. I will grab us some wine." He said before melting back into the crowd.

//if the music doesn't show up, the song is halfway gone by lifehouse but as a cover done by the piano tribute players//

henry branton blackburn//twenty three//heir of lumare

Henry went to the tables and had a servant pour them two goblets of wine. He watched as the servant poured the first cup, but was distracted when he saw Kira walk up to him. She wore a sky blue gown with white flowers on the skirts and her brown curls were pulled back at the nape of her neck. She wore a golden chain with a simple garnet suspended above her breasts.

"Lady Bayard." Henry took her hand and lifted it to his lips - kissing her knuckles briefly. Though he let his lips linger just above for a moment, eyeing her flirtatiously.

Kira's cheeks flushed at the innocent kiss, but she was quick to get to the point. "What is she to you?"

Henry knew she meant Anastasia, and he dropped her hand from his. "Just a childhood companion and my future queen."

The way they spoke was polite, but blunt. He knew that Kira wished to become his mistress. He had considered taking one, but he always grew so bored and ended up taking up a new woman. He wasn't sure he would ever be able to make it official, whether it be with Kira or any other woman.

"But is she worthy of association with our heir?" Kira's tone of voice was harsh as she kept an even gaze on the prince. If he hadn't of known better, he would assume her to be jealous.

Taking the goblets of wine from the servant, he told her stiffly, "Perhaps you would find out if you made her acquaintance."

The lady frowned at his response and turned her gaze away. She stared out into the crowd, somewhere in his fiance's direction. She almost seemed to be searching for her.

The prince rolled his eyes at her, having to bite his tongue from calling her a simpleton. He thought he would quite enjoy her nocturnal visits, but not if she wasn't fond of sharing. It would cause too much trouble for him if she were to start anything with his fiance.

Kira turned back toward Henry and forced herself to smile. "I will see you later, my prince."

He could have sworn she was flirting, but she made it sound so bland. Though he knew it was for insurance purposes, in case someone had overheard them speaking. Neither of them wanted a scandal. Then she spun on her heel and glided across the room.

Henry watched her go before moving back into the crowd of dancing people. As he reached Anastasia, he handed her the goblet of wine and smiled kindly. Then he clinked his goblet to hers and told her, "A toast to our future together."

He then lifted his drink to his lips.

henry branton blackburn//twenty three//heir of lumare

Henry had just brought the goblet to his lips when he felt Anastasia grip on his shoulder. This caused him to pause and bring the goblet back down. When he heard her words, he assumed that she had been making jokes. Then he saw the panic in her eyes and realized she was not.

It took him a moment to fully process what she had said. Then his gaze shifted toward the others in the room before finally landing on the hooded man he assumed she spoke of. He stood hunched over, his dark cloaks causing him to almost blend in, standing a few foot away from his mother's throne.

The prince shook his head as he looked back toward his fiance. "That's just Mercury, the palace seer. He is a superstitious man and a friend of my mother's. I have no doubt he means to frighten you."

He stood silent for a moment, staring down at his wine. Then he spoke up, "To be safe, though, I will not drink the wine. And neither should you."

Reaching forward, he took the goblet from her. He didn't want to cause a commotion by alerting his father, as he assumed this was simply a ploy done by his mother, but it was always best to stay on the safe side. Though he wasn't too fond of the idea of not being able to drink.

"I will dispose of the wine." He told her with a solemn expression. Then he headed off, back toward where the servant had been.

everly katherine devinci//eighteen//lady in waiting

Everly had stood off to the side with the other ladies, huddled near the back corner. None of the men seemed to have been paying her, or any of them, any mind. Except for Lily, who the king seemed to be watching hungrily from his golden throne. This caused her to frown deeply. She wanted to warn her friend of the king, for as handsome and powerful as he was, she was here to become the wife of a lord - not a mistress.

Glancing out into the crowd of dancing and chatting people, she let out a small sigh. She did wish that some handsome man would approach her and sweep her off her feet. She had always been the romantic type who believed in true love.

Shifting her weight, she watched from afar the exchange between her queen and the Lumaren prince. Her friend had always been promised to the young heir, and now had a claim to both thrones. It made her wonder if the two would actually find love in one another, even after they had said their vows. They had been childhood friends, after all. Though it had been over ten years since they saw each other last.

Moving away from the other ladies, she approached her queen. Henry had just been leaving as she reached her. The lady stood beside her queen with a regal stance.

"How are things with the prince? Is he respectful, kind, thoughtful?" Everly wondered, shifting her weight on her feet. She only wanted to make sure she was being treated right.

It was then that she noticed how shaken her friend seemed, and so she placed a gentle hand on her arm. Her tone was one of concern as she spoke. "Are you well?"
She had assumed that she was feeling ill by the way she seemed so pale and sickly. The only other assumption would be fear, but the queen had nothing to fear here. At least, not that she was aware of.

"Ana..." She leaned closer to her friend, ready to take her away if she needed to retire for the evening.

everly katherine devinci//eighteen//lady in waiting

Everly glanced down at her hands, which had been grasped firmly by her dear friend. She was assuring her that she was fine, but she wasn't sure she fully believed her. The queen still seemed a bit nervous, even with her convincing smile.

Though she was glad to hear that Henry was wonderful to her, as it was such a rarity for a queen and king to truly love one another. It was often said that love was a luxury for royals, one they could not afford. Everly, being the romantic she was, believed otherwise. She could only hope to find a love like Anastasia seemed to already share with Henry.

Before she could further their discussion, Ana waved the other ladies over. Everly watched as Kate, Avery, and Lily hurried over toward them. Then their queen said that she wanted to dance.

"But there are no men-" Avery began, but Everly cut her off with a laugh.

"Who says we need men? Let us show them how the ladies of Weirth dance." Everly tugged on Ana's hand and led her out into the dance floor. Kate and Lily came after, in a fit of giggles. After a moment, Avery followed after - kicking off her shoes along with the others.

Everly took Ana's hands in hers and started to hop in circles - spinning them round and round. Kate, Avery, and Lily had their own circle nearby. The crowd had parted to give them space - all staring in wonder and amusement.

Everly threw her head back as she giggled and spun with her friend. Her bare feet slapped against the cool tile floor and loose strands of hair bounced into her face as she moved.

Glancing over, she saw that the king and queen had stood from their thrones. The king was eyeing Lily hungrily, while his mistress narrowed her eyes at him. The queen was scowling at them, muttering under her breath. A robed man stood near her, but his hood covered his face.

Henry stood off to the side, watching Ana with an amused smile. Even Liam was there, finally showing up for the celebration. He seemed to have cleaned up nicely in his all leather outfit. The bastard started to clap his hands to the music and the rest of the people began to follow.

Everly stopped spinning, almost falling over from laughing, off-balance and light-headed. She then began to spin on her own, her arms in the air, a large smile on her face. She caught the prince's eye, but quickly averted eye contact with a blush. She didn't understand why he had looked at her that way.

The lady skipped up to Lily and spun her around with a giggle. Then she felt something lightly fall onto her head. Looking up, she saw feathers falling from the ceiling like snow, lightly drifting down and covering the floor. It was a beautiful sight, she had seen nothing like it before.