What We Are || Sansa Stark & Lillian Gray

[Lillian Gray]

[fieldbox="Alexander Blackwood; The Last Good Man, #166b22, solid, 10"]Go, she said, to not worry about her health and instead focus on the state of affairs in Dale. Alexander wanted to commend her for her selfless effort, but it was an impossible to do so. He groaned inwardly and glanced at Jocelyn from the corner of his dark blue eyes. Her pale skin was a more sickly shade than when they'd gone to bed the previous night, her eyes rimmed with a purple hue. But, Alexander reminded himself, this was simply one of the traits she held. One that he loved her dearly for. From the day she'd been forced to walk the stage and into his arms she'd only cared for her family, every brother, sister, mother, and father she'd ever known beyond her own. Dale was her family. Culcetch was her family. The slaves were her family, and now Alexander had to take it upon himself to care for them as she did in a single moment of dire need.

So he walked out the door. For Jocelyn, and for Dale.

Inside the floor's library all the diplomats sat at a long oak table. From Nisqually were the Chieftain and Chieftess, Honiahaka and Kaniehtiio. They had been strong allies of Alexander and Jocelyn's marriage after finding out their were disputes in Farlienne. Lauridson sat proudly across from them with a sheathed sword splayed out in front of him. Palladia would not back down. At his side, Alexander was pleasantly surprised to see Anastasia di ReValya, of the poorer ReValya country to the west. She nodded her head as Alexander descended into the room. Finally, standing before her own seat next to the Nisqually was the Empress of Iona, Nhadia Shiraaj.

"Ah, Alex, you will have to pardon me. Nicoli was unable to travel with me, but he should be here in the morning and we can speak privately if you wish." Anastasia explained politely.

"You will have to accept my apologies as well, Alexander, Aladdin is dealing with our own internal affairs. So I have come in his place." Nhadia bowed her head and flashed a pearly smile.

There was a diplomat from every major country Alex had extended his good graces to. A grin spread across his face seeing the full table. He took his sweet time, greeting each man and woman personally and making sure to thank them. It was no short trip coming to the capital, yet they'd all come on nothing more than a note and a plea.

"To each and every one of you, truly, I am grateful for your presence." Alexander thanked them yet again, this time from the head of the long table. He waved his hand lowly before sitting down, motioning for the group to follow in suit. Now seated, he began the grim task of explaining the purpose of their meeting. Arthur stood in the back of the room, a silent sentry to the council. "I know I was unable to express much in my letters to you all, but in private I have much to tell you. Farlienne is in grave danger of falling into a dismal state of being, thanks to my brother. If you weren't already aware, there have been riots from our lowest casts from across the country. We have been unable to quell the masses because of the problematic relationships between castes."

"We have felt the echo of these riots in Iona." Nhadia spoke up. She frowned. "Our people resonate with yours, they wish to be free, and wish for your people to be free. But the wealthy of our country, much like yours, they do not share these feelings."

"That is good to know..." Alexander hummed.

Lauridson cleared his throat in a subtle way of gaining attention to himself. He hadn't meant to be rude, but there was an obvious haste to his fidgety self since he had arrived in Farlienne days earlier. Alexander knew what he wanted to say and nodded his head in approval for the man to begin.

"I have spoken to the Prince earlier, and also have news of my own that must remain only to this room and to those inside it." Lauridson smirked knowingly. "I have proof that William Blackwood was never intended to be King, and that the death of the late King and Queen, god rest their souls, was not an accident, but regicide."

Lauridson began to pass a series of letters around the room, the most important being the one which outright called for William to never rule. Alexander waited patiently for the diplomats to respond. There was shock, anger, anguish, and an overall sense of confusion sent in waves around the room. Questions formed on lips eager to speak, but no one spoke. It was new information that hadn't been released publicly, the diplomats had to absorb it without allowing themselves to appear at a disadvantages. Such was the way of power.

"I want to change this world." Alexander said solemnly. "My brother would look to divide one class from another, but I would see them unite in brotherhood. It was my mother who saw this, long before I realized it was what I ever wanted. I ask all of you for aid, whatever you can do, anything. The moment I make my move against William is the moment I incite war, and I'll not step foot into conflict without knowing I have allies at my side."

It was difficult to ask, that he knew. Alexander had four nations at his library table, and he was asking them to betray the King of Farlienne and aid him in amassing a force to begin a civil war. When it was all said and done, each and every one of them could lose everything they held dear. William had allies of his own, friends he could call to, all of whom were wealthy noblemen with a pretty penny to their longstanding family names. It wasn't an even fight. It wasn't a fair fight. Alexander didn't have a choice though, William had started it on his own with his idea of a slave for a bride. He has to be stopped, this has gone too far, he was never meant to be King.

"Who is with me?" [/fieldbox]

 

[moffnat]

[fieldbox=Ser Arthur Desmond; The Formal Friend, silver, solid, 0, courier new]Arthur knew he was witnessing history when President Lauridson handed out copies of the queen's letter. He stood by the main entrance door and watched the faces of the politicians turn from confused to sour, from curious to disgusted as their eyes scanned over the fatal words. It seemed that everyone in the room was unanimous in the position that denounced William as king and placed Alexander on the throne. He couldn't explain it, but Arthur nearly broke to tears at the sight of those choices and what they meant. He didn't fear war or the consequences of it, nor was he afraid of battle, being the seasoned warrior that he was. But it was in that tiny, seemingly insignificant moment when Alexander rallied his supporters that Arthur came to a harrowing conclusion.

God, how he feared to lose that boy.

Arthur swallowed the fiery lump in his throat, determined not to let the prince see his moment of weakness. He felt a sense of fatherly compassion for the boy, now a man, soon a king in his own right. He shifted his footing awkwardly and tried his best not to clear his throat and draw attention to himself. It wouldn't do to let the prince see him falter.

Not to Arthur's surprise, Lauridson was the first to stand after Alexander's call for action. "I'm with you. Now and always, in memory of your mother." Arthur watched Alexander's face for any sign of emotion, but found nothing there. He was playing the steel role of a monarch, now. There was no room for tears or excessive gratitude.

"I am with you also." The regal, intelligent Queen Anastasia stood from her seat and folded her hands in front of her. "ReValya is a small country, but we are many, and we are equal. If we can help the world's superpower become equal too, we will."

The Chieftain and Chieftess of Nisqually spoke together for a moment in their native tongue, nodding their heads and making dramatic hand gestures until they finally arrived at a conclusion. Kaniehtiio pushed herself to her feet. "We will be with you all," she said, "on a single condition. You must give Nisqually back all the land taken from us by your ancestors. East of Culceth. Great nation we were, until your great-grandfather took it all from us. This land, you do not even use but for hunting and small small villages. Move them. We are growing and need more space. We want our home back."

"I'm sure something can be arranged," said Anastasia. "Alexander is not unreasonable."

"It is known," replied the Chieftess. "But I will still make my conditions clear."

"As will I." Nhadia stood in all her grace and beauty, the coins and gems on her gown clinking together as she moved. "I was never fond of the castes we have in Iona. We are not as segregated as Farlienne, but it is a problem that needs to be addressed. Iona will not abandon you in your time of need, if you do not abandon us in ours."

Fair terms, Arthur thought. He folded his hands across his chest and looked to Prince Alexander, confident that he would see sense in the alliances offered to him.[/fieldbox]
[fieldbox=Jocelyn Blackwood; The Powerful Princess, #71a9c7, solid, 0, georgia]Jocelyn fumbled nervously with her hands as Alexander left. She wanted him beside her. True, she encouraged him to leave as his business was a matter of national importance, but she wished he could remain with her all the same. She hadn't felt safe since the Dale riots, not even when he held her. Josie took a deep breath and released, looking to Hannah and the good doctor with half a smile. She couldn't rely on Alex for everything. "Okay," she said, squaring her shoulders and sitting up in bed. "I'm ready."

"Good. I'm sorry you're not feeling well, princess." Doctor Gray sat in a nearby chair and folded his hands in his lap. Hannah crawled on the mattress beside Jocelyn, a small frown on her typically-happy face. "Can you describe your symptoms for me?"

"Uhm, sure. Let's see..." Jocelyn tapped her finger on her chin to recall the many afflictions she'd suffered over the past month. "I faint a lot. I feel like I always have a fever, and I don't like foods that I used to like anymore. Lately all I want to eat is chicken and pancakes. Together." She made a disgusted face. "And every morning I feel so sick, like the whole world is spinning and I can't control it. I vomit so much that blood comes out. I just feel so weak."

Doctor Gray and Hannah exchanged a look. "How long has she had these symptoms?"

"About a month or so," Hannah replied. "I had my suspicions, but she said she had her monthly bleeding already."

"Did she? Hm." He looked back to Jocelyn. "How was your bleeding? Was it normal?"

"No," said the princess. "Very light. I almost didn't have one at all."

"I see." The doctor stood from his seat and crossed the room, digging into his bag for a needle and it's cap, along with a long piece of rubber. "I'm going to take a blood sample, okay? I know you've had these before and you got pretty anxious, but I promise this is what's best for your health. It'll help me determine what's wrong."

Jocelyn took a long, shaken breath and released. "Okay. It's okay. I just want to know what's happening to me."

"Sure, sure. Don't worry, it'll only be a minute."

Hannah took Jocelyn's free hand and held it close as the doctor tightened her other arm and felt for a vein. Jocelyn gasped at the feel of the needle pricking her skin, and she tried not to move or protest until Doctor Gray had taken enough blood to be sufficient. When he was done, Jocelyn exhaled deeply and placed a hand on her forehead. "Hannah," she groaned. "Gimme that bowl. I might throw up again."

"Oh, honey." Hannah did as the princess asked, frowning to the doctor as he turned to leave. "When will you be back with results?"

"About a half hour," replied Doctor Gray. "Keep her in bed. Make sure she drinks lots of water."

"Sure, okay." Hannah turned back to the weak and weary Jocelyn, holding her hair back as she vomited once again.[/fieldbox]

 

[Lillian Gray]

[fieldbox="Alexander Blackwood; The Last Good Man, #166b22, solid, 10"]Alexander felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise in tension for the unfolding moments. Yet, one by one, each of the diplomats before him stood at his side in a traitorous act to disown the King of Farlienne. They all knew the consequences of the war they would incite, but all remained steadfast in their decision to support Alexander; their one true King. He wanted to be calmed by their loyalty but Alexander couldn't help but be anxious for the coming times. The decisions made inside the small library would incite war, lives would be lost and families torn apart in the name of his peace. From the moment on, Alexander would shoulder the burden of his countrymen's pain, as well as their victories. He had to.

"Chieftan, Chieftess," Alexander nodded his head at each. "These are fair terms, I would be a fool to disagree to them. I accept. I will have to draw the border lines with you to be sure we agree on the same lands, simply a formality you understand." He could do this later, it simply wasn't the time to sit down and draw out lines. The Nisqually leaders did not protest, offering a small nod and smile in agreement. They were happy to be heard after many generations.

"And of course, I will not abandon Iona. Your struggle and mine are one in the same." Alexander turned next to Nhadia. She seemed pleased at his response. "Equality is a fair term for this fight. If my country can be free from the chains of the hierarchy, so too, can yours. I will not forget your country's struggles."

The Prince, now second King, paced the small end of his table in thought. He procured parchment and pens and began to write the terms of the parties informal agreement. Silently, each diplomat signed their name, and the small document was rolled and sealed in a matter of minutes. Just like that, an alliance had been formed between the four nations without any hesitance. It almost felt too easy, Alexander thought, but he wouldn't complain about the favorable winds being blown his way.

"Please, feel free to stay and enjoy the privacy of my study." Alexander invited, "There is another matter I must attend to...my wife... She's rather ill, and I'd like to make sure she is comfortable." He trailed off, a sheepish grin on his love struck face. The man was faithful to his wife, that much could be said. Nhadia concealed a small grin on her face with the back of her hand, and Anastasia outright beamed at the man.

"Go, Alexander, I will stay for a while." Lauridson ushered him away. "We have discussed what we came to discuss, I see no reason to linger and arouse any suspicion."

With a quick bow of his head, the royal was off and up to his bedroom, eager to embrace his ill wife. He felt so guilty for having left her alone, but in only a minutes time he could be at her side once more where she so rightfully deserved to have him.[/fieldbox]

 

[moffnat]

[fieldbox=Jocelyn Blackwood; The Powerful Princess, #71a9c7, solid, 0, georgia]Jocelyn still could not believe the news. It trampled around in her head like a bittersweet beast that she couldn't seem to calm. She paced back and forth along the balcony outside their bedroom, dressed in a pink satin nightgown and robe with her curls tumbling down her back, deep in thought. The night was peaceful, aside from her anxiety. Stars glittered in the sky and the full moon cast its light upon the highest of Archaedon's towers. Late travelers flew this way and that in their tiny airships, from tower to tower. City lights accompanied that of the moon, still such a foreign look to a slave girl from Dale.

Dale, she thought sorrowfully. I wonder what they will do with this news. What the world will do.

Catastrophe lied ahead. Jocelyn could feel it waiting for her on the edge of a cliff she stood on. There would be chaos once Farlienne learned of her condition, of her affliction, of her poorly-timed blessing. The country would be divided. Jocelyn was sure she would have to face the press again and encourage her people that this was a positive thing, that she loved her husband beyond measure, and pray that the slaves believed her. In truth they had no reason not to, save for the wrath of their Overseers and the punishment from their king. Maybe William would offer rewards to those who defied her. He had that power, and he had the insanity that such cruel acts required. She would not put it past him to make her life utterly miserable from this point on, in hopes of a "cure" for her "ailment."

I have to be strong, Jocelyn reminded herself. I have to hold the weight of millions.

A small knock came at the door. Jocelyn stopped her pacing and called out from the balcony. "You can come in," she said, though her voice cracked and her throat burned. She didn't know whether she wanted to cry with tears of joy or sorrow.

The conflict only worsened when Alexander came into the room.

She could read the triumph on his face, the face she loved so much. The nations had sided with him. The beginning of peace was on the rise, but only after a long war, one she could see in the distance like a bleeding sun. Jocelyn met his eyes with sadness and hugged herself, trying to gain courage she feared she lacked.

"Hi," she mumbled wearily. "I, uhm...I'm guessin' the meeting went well?"[/fieldbox]

 

[Lillian Gray]

[fieldbox="Alexander Blackwood; The Last Good Man, #166b22, solid, 10"]"Shh, I spent all that time discussing politics and the fate of the nation, I want to know how you are." Alexander stepped tenderly inside his own room, watching Jocelyn's face for any sign of hesitance or sickness. For the most part, she appeared pale and still fatigued. Thick purple bruises beneath her eyes marked the sleepless nights she'd endured.

Outlined by the glittering horizon of the cityscape, she was still pristine and perfect in every way. Her slender form covered by the slick pink fabric of her nightgown. She stood sentry as a figure to the slaves she couldn't see below. A mother to the country she tended to with her own hands, it was more than Alexander could say he'd done. She'd worked the soil and picked at the ore. Now, she was a nobleman's wife and a key figure in the fight to come. Alexander couldn't help but lose himself in her very existence.

Conflict marred her porcelain face. He didn't understand why there were tears in her eyes. He asked himself, was she in pain? Or perhaps she felt some small sense of accomplishment knowing the meeting ended well. Alexander pondered between the two ideas idly as he gently rocked back and forth with Jocelyn in his arms. She was cold. The open door of their shared balcony space let in the gentle breeze from the outside world, offering a comforting and cooling sensation. For Alexander it was a relief to his skin, but he worried still about the state of his wife.

"You're cold, Jocelyn, come inside for a while. Tell me how you are." Alexander persisted. "I've allies now, friends in high places who can protect us for, at the very least, a simple night in bed while I tend to your aching body. Are you hungry? Tired? What do you need, I will give you anything."

The Prince lowered his guard to the only person he dared. A smile broke across his weary face, bored by council and arrangements in the face of his Josie.

"I don't wish to see tears in your eyes unless they're happy ones." Alexander cooed. He pressed his hand to the back of her curls and pulled Jocelyn close to his chest, where he could hold her close to his beating heart.[/fieldbox]

 

[moffnat]

[fieldbox=Jocelyn Blackwood; The Powerful Princess, #71a9c7, solid, 0, georgia]
Her husband was too sweet, almost sickeningly so. Never could she recall witnessing such affection from anyone, except her mother and father, who gave each other every ounce of love and devotion as Alexander had given her. Jocelyn allowed herself to be encased in the prince's hold and simply stay there in silence for as long as she dared to do so. She knew her answer to his questions were needed to soothe his anxiety in her condition, and she longed to give them, but knew not how. The subject she approached was a delicate one. It could mean either life or death for the both of them.

After a few minutes of softly rocking in her husband's embrace, Jocelyn lifted her head from his chest and looked upon her Alexander. She bit her lip, anxious. If only she had all the time in the world to come up with the proper way to admit her failure. Or was it a success? Was there any way to tell? How long would it be before the outcome of her folly would interfere with the war and their quality of life?

Just speak, Josie. Jocelyn drew in a deep breath and took Alexander by the hands, meeting his eyes in earnest.

"The doctor said that my symptoms are from a child," she said, though her voice wavered. "Alex, I'm going to have a baby. I'm pregnant. He said that we most likely conceived on our wedding night, because I'm as far along as we have been married. Three months." Jocelyn bit her lip, and tears welled in her eyes. "But I don't know if it's a good thing. William will kill me, you know he'll try. He'll try to make me miscarry, he'll poison my food, he'll openly attack me, make it look like an accident. Something. Anything. He can't stand that we're married and now to hear that we've conceived a child? What if it's a boy? He'll be even more furious because the throne will pass to you and our son by law, a child from a slave and a royal, something that never should have happened under his rule..."

By the time Jocelyn stopped speaking, her tears were constant and her sobbing shook her form. She knew the emotions from pregnant women were rampant and less controllable, but the horrors of Dale and the fear of her and her child's demise left her aching beyond repair. She wept for all of them, for every slave, for her child and herself, for Alexander and their little family. When she looked up to her husband's eyes again, she could only wipe her own with trembling hands.

"I'm sorry. I don't...m-mean to be to upset..."[/fieldbox]

 

[Lillian Gray]

[fieldbox="Alexander Blackwood; The Last Good Man, #166b22, solid, 10"]Alexander moved to take Jocelyn's hands, wiping the rest of her tears with his thumbs. Slowly, he began to process the meaning of her words. She wasn't sick, not ill with any known disease that would ruin her body. The latest addition to the Blackwood family was pregnant.

Pregnant.

"You're pregnant?" Alexander searched his wife's reddened eyes for confirmation. As she slowly nodded, the clouds seemed to part to allow the sun to shine on his blissful smile. For a few seconds he was quiet. His attention shifted back and forth between Jocelyn's face, then her stomach, back to her swollen and teary eyes, once more to her stomach. If he focused hard enough, Alexander thought he could see a small bump. In all likelihood it was just his imagination, but soon there would be something there.

We're going to have a baby.

"Oh Josie, sweetheart." The Prince choked on his own joy. "We're going to have a baby, we're going to have a baby!"

The human body has the capability to show every emotion from pain and solitude, all the way to joy and glee. Different expressions and emotions marred many of Alexander and Jocelyn's own memories, giving them a memorable life which could breathe a fresh feeling into the body just by remembering it. There was sadness at his parents funeral, and irritation when his brother picked on him as a child, tiredness when he was ill, and fear the first time he'd learned to fly an airship. His memories, like any human being's, were linked so heavily through emotion it was impossible not to correlate the two.

With every possible combination and feeling Alexander knew, he found that there was nothing comparable, nothing similar to how he felt knowing that he had created a new life. His child, something of his own flesh and blood to love and to hold.

"I-" Alexander kissed her tenderly. Once, twice, a third time. "Of course this is a good thing. This is fantastic, nothing but wonderful and-" He paused and shook his head. "I don't even know how to describe this feeling, Josie. You're going to be a mother. Does that not excite you? We're going to be a family. Don't you think for once second about what William will do. Don't even think about it. Nothing will happen because you and I are right here, right now, and we're going to have a beautiful child together. And I love you. To the God and Goddess above I swore an oath to you, and... Gods, a baby!"[/fieldbox]

 

[moffnat]

[fieldbox=Jocelyn Blackwood; The Powerful Princess, #71a9c7, solid, 0, georgia]
Not for the first time, Jocelyn contemplated how truly lucky and blessed she had been to marry this man. Their situation was not a predictable one. Thrown together at the hands of cruel fate and manipulation, somehow they had found love in the darkest of places. Prince and Princess Blackwood were an incredibly unlikely and borderline illegal statistic, and yet they had become a beacon of hope and love to those who had none. Now, a child. An heir. The children of a slave girl would inherit their father's royal title and status, putting all predispositions to shame.

And Alex was thrilled.

Jocelyn giggled as he held her and declared love and devotion, and she kissed him in return when their lips met. She smoothed the hair from his face and planted small kisses along his lips and cheeks, and eventually settled comfortably in his arms.

"I love you too," she said in her sweet, tired voice. "I'm glad you're excited. I would be too, if there wasn't so much uncertainty around us, but I think we'll find peace here. Security. There are people who will protect us, and...I can't believe Goddess would grant me this gift if she intended on takin' it away." Jocelyn rested her forehead on the side of his neck and cuddled closer into his arms. "I'm just glad to be your wife, Alex. And now the mother of our child. I wouldn't have it any other way, even knowing what has to come next."

Husband and wife were allowed only a single moment to breathe in each other's arms before a knock came at the door.

"Alex?" called the familiar voice of Arthur Desmond. "Princess? Forgive me for coming, but I only wanted to inquire upon the lady's health..."

"It's alright," Jocelyn replied. "You can come in."

The great steel door swung open as their guardian entered the room. He wore an exhausted smile as he stepped toward the embracing couple, hands folded behind his back politely. "I didn't mean to intrude," Arthur began, "but I wanted to know the diagnosis. Is she alright?"

"Better than alright," said Jocelyn. "I'm pregnant."

"Pregnant?" Arthur's jaw nearly fell to the floor. "The doctor is certain?"

"Confirmed. I'm due in Septim."

Arthur, overjoyed, began to weep no matter how he tried to hide it.[/fieldbox]

 

[Lillian Gray]

[fieldbox="Alexander Blackwood; The Last Good Man, #166b22, solid, 10"]After the small celebration between the trio, Alexander put his wife to sleep. He couldn't keep his hands off her swollen cheeks, and despite her sickness, he continued to caress her soft skin. His hands trailed over her stomach a thousand times out of excitement for the life within. Maybe more. Desperately he wanted to believe that the beating he felt through the tips of his fingers was his child, but it was only the blood rushing through his blushing face. The joy was evident, and Jocelyn couldn't help but mirror his happiness until she drifted off to sleep with a smile still present on her pink lips.

It was early in the morning. Alexander couldn't sleep. There were too many thoughts on his mind, too many events and decisions, enough to make him sick with worry and yet oddly excited about the future. He needed to clear his head, and so the Prince rose gently out of bed so as not to wake Jocelyn, who was asleep at his side. Alexander kissed her forehead before tiptoeing out of his room and towards the elevator.

"And where might you be off to at this hour?" Came Arthur's stern voice. He dropped the day's paper into his lap and gave Alexander a quizzical look. Alexander jumped out of his skin, not expecting anyone to still be lingering in his flat. The day was over, the affairs had been settled for the most part, and all of the parties had left to their individual lodgings. Why he was surprised at Arthur's presence was suspicious. It was common for the man to stay the night.

"Oh... Evening, Arthur." Alexander mumbled. His awkward reply prompted Arthur to prod him further. It wasn't like the Prince to be walking about at odd hours. Alexander spoke up again. "What are you still doing here?"

"I'm your guard." Arthur smirked as Alexander sighed, realizing the ridiculousness of his question. "And I'm still curious where you're going."

Alexander shifted nervously as the elevator gears cranked and groaned before him. The cogs wheeled up the large compartment, emitting a soft noise once it reached the floor. Quickly he glanced towards his bedroom, hoping the noise hadn't woken up Jocelyn. He was hesitant, Arthur could see it plainly in the pale morning light. The day had brought great news. News of inheritance, news of life, and news of civil war on the brink of uprooting all the Prince knew to be solid in his once simple life. The Prince waved his guard forward, and the two descended to the ground floor.

Neither of the two said a word as Alexander walked briskly out of the Archaedon tower, past the gates which housed the tower itself, and the guards of William's who stood sentry to the royal place. Unaware of the royal presence, they didn't bat an eye as Alexander and Arthur easily slipped into the night and out into the metropolis. Arthur had figured out rather quickly where the young Prince was headed, as soon as they rounded past the main street and towards the marbled Chapel which held the remains of the late Lord and Lady Blackwood.

"So many things have gone awry today..." Alexander spoke suddenly. "Yet, I feel that the future holds promise."

"You're to be a father. I would say the same." Arthur replied.

"I'm scared, Arthur." Alexander said honestly. "I'm damn terrified."

The Prince pushed forward into the main room, his parents coffins still on display at the end of the hall as a sentiment to their long and successful rule. Simply being near their torched and misplaced remains made Alexander sick to his stomach. It was hard, knowing that there was so little left of them to bury at all, and still having to attempt to put the pieces back together so they could be locked away in two great white coffins. Gods, how he felt he needed his father, to reprimand him for his wrongdoings, yet remind him of the good inside his heart. Gods, how he needed his mother, to teach him how to nurture and love the same way she did for him. The guidance he had taken for granted through his twenty four years had been burned away in an instant. A flash of fire which sent an ache into his tender soul. He so desperately wished that for a brief moment in time he could summon them from the Gods' realm and beg them for their help.

But they were gone. William had seen to it that their last breath was too soon.

"But I'm also so joyful. I'm going to have a child with my loving wife." Alexander smiled softly. His eyes betrayed his true feelings though, on the brink of tears. "It's such a shame though... that they'll never..." He trailed off. Arthur clasped his hand over Alexander's shoulder, not forcing the younger to say another word.

"I know that it's silly, that they can't hear me, but I like to think that somewhere the God and Goddess have blessed them with a few seconds of time to listen." Alexander lowered his eyes to the floor. "They were gone too soon, and I can never tell them of the grandchild they'll never meet, or the wife I've grown to love. They will never see the man I hope to be someday, to follow in their steps in hope that one day peace will be universal and understood. I cannot tell them, that I am scared. My pleas for help will fall on deaf ears, and I cannot express this weakness to anyone else. All I can do is work with what comes before me, and hope that I can win the fight."

Arthur didn't have the words to reply.

"Would they be ashamed for fighting with my brother?" Alexander asked aloud. "I want to think that I'm doing the right thing for this country, for my wife, for myself, and now for my child. This is war, Arthur, and it is what I will be remembered for."

Before Arthur could so much as open his mouth to reply, Alexander had asked yet another question. He laid his heart out in the open for Arthur to see. What heavy weight was on Alexander's mind, which led him to seek solace at his mother and father's tomb, spilled from his lips so easily.

"Do you think they would be proud of who I am?" The man asked quietly. "Do you think I will make a good father, just as my own was? Life is so precious, Arthur, and only want to show my child how beautiful the world can be."[/fieldbox]

 

[moffnat]

[fieldbox=Ser Arthur Desmond; The Formal Friend, silver, solid, 0, courier new]
Arthur had seen many things in his life. Mangled corpses of dead friends, body parts strewn on vehicles post-explosion, the chaos of war and battle, the heartaches of defeat; these were a few among many hardships that Ser Arthur Desmond had witnessed. Sometimes the nightmares plagued him to a point where sleep was hopeless. The memories were agony, and he'd never spoken of them aloud in fear of worrying his companions.

But nothing broke his heart quite so much as watching Alexander cry.

He remembered when the little prince was born, squealing and crying mere hours after he'd left the womb. Even then, Arthur could not stand it--not in annoyance, but for pure want of making him happy. Arthur had lived and risked his life to protect the royal family, but there was always something special between him and the little prince. Alex would ride on his shoulders as a toddler, show him different birds he'd seen in the aviary. He would drag Arthur around to look for all the cats and dogs he could take in off the streets. And, when called, Arthur would defend him from the fury of his older brother's temper. Looking at him now, in the shelter of this sacred place, Arthur realized he could no longer do those things for his dear prince. The days of protection and subtlety were done. Alexander Blackwood was king. All Arthur could do now was love and support, and be there in the darkest hour.

The old knight placed a firm hand on Alexander's shoulder. "You listen to me," he said gently, "and you listen well. Your mother and father were great parents because they had love. You were raised right because you accepted that love, and gave it out to others where William rejected it and pushed it away. Your father was a good father because he scolded you when it was necessary, raised you up when you needed it and gave you the smarts to fill that head of yours. Your mother was one of a kind because she was always there for you. She gave you the gift of compassion and mercy, without which you would not be here today. Not as a father. Not as a husband. Most certainly not as a king."

Arthur stood before him then, between Alexander and memories of the dead. He placed both his massive hands on either side of the young man's face with great affection. "I mourn your family, Alex, but you have an opportunity they did not. The caste system was still active and thriving under your loving parents, and their parents before them, back hundreds and hundreds of years. You can end it. You have the chance to redeem those who are abused and broken. You, Alex. No one else. You love that woman sleeping in your bed with all your heart. I've seen it. You would do anything for her, for her people, just as she would do for you. And that kind of love, combined with your will to do good, is more than any parent could ever ask for in a child. It will bring this nation to heel. I daresay your parents did not know what kind of gift they'd been granted."

And in a swift, solemn movement, Arthur pressed a fatherly kiss to Alexander's forehead.

"You are blessed. I have no doubt the king and queen are more proud of you than anything in their short lives. They love Jocelyn from above, look how they bless her with a child! Take a look around at all your blessings, all your successes and trials, and the war to come. If your ascension is not a symbol of your parents' pride in you, I'm not sure what is."

Arthur pulled away and placed his closed fist over his heart. "I am not your father, Alex, but I can be fatherly in his place. And I will follow you, kiddo. To the ends of the earth."[/fieldbox]

 

[Lillian Gray]

[fieldbox="Alexander Blackwood; The Last Good Man, #166b22, solid, 10"]Amidst the crowds and uproar, Alexander lay in waiting with Jocelyn at his side. The atmosphere was rigid, with royal guards on the outer perimeter in case things went sour. William's guardsmen no less, none of Alexander's men were in uniform. Most had been relieved of duty, or had silently taken an oath to Alexander before relieving themselves.

A man stood on his makeshift soapbox to preach about the wrongdoings of the caste system. The tired undertone of his voice was not missed, but went almost unnoticed in the way his words boomed across the yard. He proudly announced the two hidden royals in the midst, and instantly Alexander's blood ran cold. Alexander felt his wife's trembling fingers trying to keep a tight hold onto any bit of him, and then she gripped his hand hard, as if to reassure him. He squeezed hers in response. She had remained stoic in the face of danger, dealing with riots and protests of her own ever since the fateful day William had appointed her as a royal bride. A mistake he would never live down until she was either dead or denounced.

Alexander had no intention of letting either happen, not so long as he had blood in his veins and a breath in his lungs.

Something's not right. Alexander thought. None of the guards on the outer rim of the courtyard made a move towards the center. William wouldn't allow this protest to go on for so long, this just feels...it feels wrong.

He kept his thoughts to himself as he and Jocelyn ascended to a small makeshift stage in the center of a small square. Ever the gentleman, he paused to allow Jocelyn to step up, pressing his hand gently to her back. For a moment he was entranced by a sudden glow about her. Her curled hair fell around her in a mess, yet it was clearly styled in the way it remained untangled. All the hustle and bustle around him dimmed as she turned to face the crowd, and there it was. The face of a slave, but the face of a slave with a vision. Her eyes shimmered and her skin was glistening in the high sun. She'd blossomed into a prideful woman, but for the wrong people according to society. Nevertheless, Alexander loved her fiery spirit.

They were far from the safety of the Archaedon tower, but not too far out of sight from a host of private guardsman. Those loyal to Alexander mingled into the crowd, under the guise of common clothes. Still, they stood out. They were too clean, their posture too formal to match the common folk around them. It was all the man could do though, given the circumstances in the capital. Civil war was on the horizon.

Alexander shook himself out of his trance and joined Jocelyn. In a public display of affection, he kissed her hair tenderly before reaching once more to grip at her slender hand. As he glanced down, he could barely make out the small bump around her stomach. It was just enough of a tell tale sign that only those in the know could be certain, but those who guessed could be partially certain there was life there.

"If things go badly..." Alexander trailed off. He scanned the crowd for Arthur, and they made eye contact from across the square. His gaze returned to his wife. "Let us hope they don't."[/fieldbox]

 

[moffnat]

[fieldbox=Jocelyn Blackwood; The Powerful Princess, #71a9c7, solid, 0, georgia]
Something was not right. While the riots exploding all over Farlienne were a significant problem, Jocelyn felt unsafe speaking before an audience like this, so open, so unprotected. The Commoner's Court was not what scared her, however. It was the nobles who could easily venture here and plot something vile against the Prince and Princess of Farlienne. Too many risks came from appearing openly before the public, but Alexander insisted that the people needed to see them address the issue to their faces instead of what was edited on their television screens. The media cannot taint what they see with their own eyes. Jocelyn, despite her hesitance, eventually agreed to her husband's request and came with him here, where they stood before the shouting people who appeared to be on their side.

Perhaps it was the differences in which they were raised, but when Alexander looked to the crowd he saw his people and a shapeable future. When Jocelyn looked at them, all she saw were a million possible ways to die.

"It can't go badly," whispered the princess to her husband. "We have people protecting us, don't we?" She knew the answer, but remained unsure. Growing up in paranoia left her doubtful. Regardless, she squeezed Alexander's hand and kept her expression neutral but firm. "Just breathe," she told herself. "Everything will be fine."

The more she told herself that, the less she began to believe it.

"Commoners!" called the speaker at the podium. "Common people, please, simmer down! Your prince and princess will soon speak on the issues at hand and I promise your concerns and questions will be answered. I ask you to welcome them to the podium as your royals, and please, keep the questions civil, yes? I believe we are all on the same side here. Thank you."

While not the introduction Jocelyn expected, she was glad for the lack of pomp and circumstance surrounding it. She followed Alexander to the podium and stood beside him. He was far more trained for public speaking and addressing his people than she was, but Jocelyn was determined to offer her support wherever it was needed. She could not abandon him here. Not now. Not ever, in fact.

"Prince Alexander!" called a voice from the large audience, one who had spoken first above the others. "Is it true that you are planning open rebellion against your brother? Are the events of the National Gala and the Dale riots motive enough to move against him?"

Such serious questions, Jocelyn thought. I pray Alex's answer bodes well for us.[/fieldbox]