stuartseleni

[stuartseleni]

ofrixs‌:

“she’s dead, eleni,” he said in a stronger tone, if only to stop her from wondering. he lifted his head from her shoulder and gazed down at her hand as she held his. “she was killed by enemies to the crown six years ago. it was my fault.” he looked at her and the self-loathing was evident on his face, but through the wine he noticed how beautiful her eyes were, like pieces of ocean glass. “i will always be troubled, my love. the question is whether or not you can survive it.”

               six years.  six years had elapsed since her death and in that time she still held such influence over her husband as to cause him to lash out against her.  six years had passed and the only time eleni had ever heard her husband speak of love was in relation to a dead girl,  and she,  a living,  breathing nuisance to him.  the princess swallowed thickly,  averting his poignant gaze.  “i said stop,  friedrich.  i don’t wish to hear anymore - not tonight.  i made a commitment to you long ago and i intend to preserve it until my last breath.  apart from bearing you a son,  i have fulfilled my every obligation to you,  and i ask that you never question it again.  i am your wife;  you have my word.”  she cupped his jaw,  her thumb resting upon the cleft of his chin,  “can we call a truce whilst we are here in france?  can we be man and wife again,  and not friend and foe?” 

#ofrixs

[stuartseleni]

ofrixs‌:

he opened his mouth to speak and closed it as his thoughts swam in his mind. it was difficult for him to formulate full sentences, so he nodded and swallowed so he would not cry again. “i loved another, once.” his eyes fluttered closed.  “she had hair as dark as night and would sing me to sleep.”  the cloth touched his hand and he hissed, but stayed still. he was rambling now, the words falling from his lips in a soft mumble. “she would call me freddie.”

                she hadn’t a clear idea of what to say in return,  only that the feeling of her heart constricting in her chest returned with ferocity and it outweighed her curiosity.  for months on end she’d longed to put a name to the woman who’s portrait he carried with him everywhere,  and yet now that the moment had presumably arrived her stomach lurched in response,  for the thought of her husband loving another drove her mad with envy.  “for my sake,  please,  do not continue.”  she increased the pressure of the cloth upon his knuckles.  perhaps that would silence him.  “i did not mean to encroach in using the nickname.  i only wanted something that others did not call you;  ‘frix’ being so widely used.  it will not happen again.”  she tipped his chin up with her fingertip,  “’tis late.  you should rest,  you are troubled and not thinking straight.” 

#ofrixs

[stuartseleni]

ofrixs‌:

he felt like a child as she helped him, but his faculties weren’t entirely present and he had trouble connecting what his mind wanted him to do and what his body was doing. truly, he had drunken far too much and more than he could recall in the past years. when she left him, he felt her absence, even if it was only for a second.

 “i struck a tree,” he said lamely, meeting her gaze with dull eyes. “i was foolish and angry and angry about being foolish, so i struck a tree.” with his good hand, he reached up to touch her cheek. “i have treated you so poorly, my love. for that, i apologize.”

                friedrich spoke himself in circles,  deaf dumb and blind,  and she grew weary of his stream of apologies she did not see fit to accept at the present moment.  gingerly she drew his hurt hand into her own,  her touch feather light as she pinned the dampened cloth against his wounds.  “this might sting a little,”  eleni cautioned,  albeit there was little doubt in her mind that he’d done this before.  she flinched from his touch instinctively,  features growing cold and still.  “you needn’t apologise,  frix.  you made it clear where we stand and i am sorry to have overstepped the boundaries you’ve drawn.  you are my husband...  but that does not mean we are the ones who are to make each other happy in this life.  please,  stay your hand,  or it will hurt worst.” 

#ofrixs

[stuartseleni]

ofrixs‌:

“i shouldn’t have said such horrible things to you. you are a good wife; i’m a terrible husband,” he continued speaking through his sobs and attempted to calm himself, but tears pricked his eyes seconds later. when she called him by such tender words, his chest constricted, but he nodded worldessly and attempted to stand, his eyes not quite focusing correctly. frix cursed the wine that made his emotions run out so, but he welcomed eleni’s soft touch.

he laid his head on her shoulder. “please forgive me. i wish to do better; i promise you that.” 

               she wished,  most ardently,  to believe him though as he spoke she reminded herself that he was inebriated and would soon forget come morning. promises were easily broken,  and drunken pledges even more so.  eleni guided him to the edge of the four-poster,  stepping in between his knees to keep him upright,  libations still running freely through his system.  “i know you shall,  and our spat is already forgotten,”  eleni swore,  granting his uninjured hand a squeeze before she dissipated to her vanity to collect a warmed,  damp bolt of linen.  she hadn’t entirely forgiven him,  though that was neither here nor there in his current state.  “you still haven’t told me what happened.  were you involved in a brawl?” 

#ofrixs

[stuartseleni]

ofrixs‌:

he let her manipulate his head, his eyes half-lidded and duly unfocused as he tried to look at her. his hand throbbed as he picked it up uselessly then put it back in his lap, wincing. 

“forgive me, my lady,” he said, tears welling in the corners of his eyes. “but i must offer you my sincerest apologies.” his voice broke and he found himself crying despite his commitment to never doing so in front of others. frix regretted his words immensely and was unsure of how to communicate that. “i have spoken out of turn.”

                confusion wracked her senses and contorted her features,  brows knitting together and lips pursing slightly.  what had triggered him so?  she doubted her words held this affect over him,  and rather the root must have been something external that she was unaware of.  she didn’t grant her forgiveness,  her heart still warring against her mind in doing so,  though her eyes fluttered close and her lips pressed a chaste caress against the corner of his mouth.  “it will all be well again,  fred,  you mustn’t cry.”  she hadn’t the words to comfort him,  it was neither in her character nor was she aware of how to,  when she couldn’t understand the underlying issue.  “come to bed.  i’ve a warm cloth somewhere to clean your wounds.  come with me, sweetheart.” 

#ofrixs

[stuartseleni]

ofrixs‌:

seeing the hint of tears in eleni’s eyes made him pause for a moment, but he didn’t have enough time to gather his thoughts before she’d fled the room. his heart hammered in his chest; why had he said such vicious words? confusion and anger erupted inside of him, but instead of going after her, he stalked over to a nearby table and took a pitcher of wine and a chalice. frix left the ball with those in hand, preferring to drink himself into a stupor in the gardens.

he let out an almighty scream and swung, his fist connecting with the hard bark of a nearby tree. blood bloomed on his knuckles.

all he could think about was sigrid, and to stop himself from sobbing he would work himself up into a fury. just an old nickname on eleni’s lips was enough to light the spark. he wondered what it would be next time. would he hurt his wife then? was this the kind of person he wanted to be? his nature told him to wipe away those thoughts; why should he care what anyone else thinks? the wine told him something else.

it was late, well past everyone being in bed, when he returned to the guest chambers he shared with eleni. the pitcher and the chalice were lost somewhere in the gardens and he struggled to open the door, eventually stumbling through it after some effort. the alcohol had worn off slightly and he was clutching his injured hand. 

“m’love…” he said, swaying until he fell onto a trunk.

               when the clock struck one in the morning,  eleni was propped up in the very centre of their shared bed,  a multitude of duvets surrounding her and a novel pried open upon her lap.  burning the midnight oil had never been her intention and yet she found she could not rest without resolving what had occurred earlier that evening.  the wounds her husband’s words had inflicted were still raw,  smarting with angst each time her memory lapsed,  her thoughts unable to take two steps without brushing into some trace of the anguish and humiliation he’d instilled within her.   she tensed when the door at last swung open and a looming figure - tall,  broad-shouldered,  undoubtedly him - stepped into the chamber.

he promised her he would not drink that night and yet she could smell the bane upon his breath a mile away.  perhaps that is why,  for perhaps a first,  his endearment toward her sounded genuine;  slurring upon his tongue. she slipped from under the blankets and crawled to the end of the four-poster,  feet finding the floor and padding toward him.  “husband...”  eleni murmured shakily,  too concerned for his well-being to maintain her resentment toward him when she saw the cuts upon his knuckles.  had he been involved in a brawl?  had someone tried to hurt him? 

she fell to her knees before him,  clutching his face in her hands and inspecting it for any lacerations.  none manifested,  thankfully,  and she found herself peering into his brown eyes,  swimming with insobriety.  “friedrich,  what happened?  your hand...  i tried to order the servants to look for you but they said you couldn’t be found.  are you hurt?”  

#ofrixs

[stuartseleni]

ofrixs‌:

an heir… frix scoffed at the thought. he had no desire for an heir anymore; his love lived and died with sigrid and he couldn’t muster up enough enthusiasm for the next day, let alone a lifetime. frix tried his best to not raise his voice too much to eleni, no matter how much she frustrated him, but he couldn’t help it. she called him a nickname he only ever heard from a dead girl’s lips. 

frix griped her arm roughly and spoke to her through gritted teeth. “yes, i will do as i please. i have that luxury not through your blessing but because i take what i want instead of asking. you will never get what you wish as long as you think that reasoning with me is possible. go back to those whores you call family in scotland, for all i care. i am not your ally, nor will i ever be.”

he let go of her arm, pushing her away from him.

                his words frightened her, alarmed her and seized her heart, hammering wildly within her rib-cage as her eyes darted around the ballroom,  hoping that his implosion would not draw the eyes of courtiers - neither allies nor enemies,  god help them.  she felt her face grow warm,  cheeks redden,  as she poured all her might into restraining the tears she’d promised herself not to shed in front of her husband.  balling her fists at her side,  pools of wetness collected in her eyes as she lowered into a curtsy,  before fleeing the room as quickly as her feet could carry her.  mortified,  she could scarcely meet the guards’ eyes as she darted into the vacant corridor.

lonesome in the dimly-lit hallway,  tears fell freely from her eyes,  hands soothing her arms and expecting bruises to form where her husband had mercilessly shoved her aside.  had she not tried to love him and be loved in return?  such operations had failed,  she had long been well aware of that,  and yet he now deprived her of her last resource;  reasoning.  not for the first time,  she felt an island,  stranded in the midst of the international policing that had given her hand to friedrich in the first place,  when she heard footsteps approach.  she turned toward the window,  shielding her identity,  mulling over the horrific words he’d lobbed at her in fury.

#ofrixs

[stuartseleni]

ofrixs‌:

“you speak as if you are the only one who shares my bed. i didn’t take you for someone so close to idiocy.” frix ground his teeth at the touch of her breath in order to ignore the fluttering in his heart. she was quite bewitching when she wanted to be. he spun her; a distraction, perhaps. “what are your suggestions? you clearly have more of a stake in this than i do; i care not for images and idle gossip. i’d rather do away with the charade altogether. after all, they already know we didn’t marry for love.”

                “i do not delude myself into thinking such - but you should also not deceive yourself. i am the only one who does so lawfully,  the only one who can give you an heir and loosen the noose your brother has tied around your neck.”  the scotwoman’s words were spoken in an acidic whisper,  directed to her husband as they passed one another like ships in the night. her spine flush against his chest,  she simpered,  petticoats swishing around her ankles.  “does it matter what i suggest?  you will do as you desire regardless.  they already whisper of our divided chambers;  i’m afraid any front we put on would be useless.  god loves a trier,  does he not,  freddie?” 

#ofrixs

[stuartseleni]

ofrixs‌:

frix laughed, and this time it was genuine. “is this not what you wanted, wife?” he led her in a dance that he couldn’t quite recall learning. the way the french danced seemed so odd to him. “is this not part of the loving facade you asked for? i could call you by other words, but i do not believe you would see them as kind.”

                 “i asked for unity, not love.  what good has love done anyone?”  the princess’ nimble fingertips grazed along her husband’s abdomen as she moved to his side,  feet falling into a familiar rhythm she’d practised as a child although could not recall by name.  it was simple enough,  following frix’s lead and stepping aside to avert her toes being marched on.  “such wicked words for the woman who will share your bed for the next forty years,”  she clicked her tongue,  chiding him humorously - hardly a detection of earnest to her voice. “but i fear they fall on deaf ears.  if you want to foist an image of love onto this court...”  she pressed close for a mere moment,  lifting on her heels to whisper against his ear, breath fanning against his throat,   “make it seem real.”

#ofrixs #sry i rambled

[stuartseleni]

johannesbabenburg‌:

“Very much so. It has been so long since I have had a chance to see her.” While his sister and himself would exchange letters, it was nothing compared to a conversation. Letters could always be intercepted, and likely were; there were some things that could not be put to words on paper.

                    “and yet sisterly and brotherly bonds cannot be severed by time,  my lord.  my own sister and i speak a testament to that.  i am certain augusta will receive you with open arms.”  her heart had capsized several times over at the thought of embracing her beloved siblings once more,  a fervor cooled only by a need to maintain decorum throughout court. “i hear our nephew is quite advanced for his age,  is this true?” 

#johannesbabenburg

[stuartseleni]

ofrixs‌:

he took great pains to suppress his urge to retaliate against her, and instead held out his hand. “yes, my love, i believe we have not danced in many a moon.” he was not a good dancer, but he knew the steps and could lead her adequately. frix set the wine glass down on the table, leaving it mostly untouched. “we ill both be free of wine tonight, then. after all, you did speak a truth.”

                  “long though it has been,  i seem to remember you were skilled enough,  though fortunately any errors were masked by your height.”  she placed her hand into his larger one,  delicate fingers slipping in between the grooves of his palm,  cool skin flush against warmed flesh.  “since i have granted you a truth,”  eleni began, flitting to the outskirts of the ballroom, “will you gift me one in return?  pray tell,  fred,  why must you call me those horrific endearments in public?” 

#ofrixs

[stuartseleni]

johannesbabenburg‌:

“Augusta has done her duty here.” It had been years since his sister had married the late dauphin, enough time had passed for her to have a son and lose a husband. “And if she continues to do so, she will have the boy raised well, and then France will be an ally without my hand.” It was not as if there were any suitable Frenchwomen; the sole princess had already once been married, even with claims of unconsummation, and was frivolous beyond belief. “I have no need for a French bride. We need new allies, not old ones.”

                    the notion was asinine and the scotswoman chided herself for having suggested it,  after all as the empire was expanding there was a need for the crown to expand with it,  and such a task was best achieved through vows one could depend on - such as marriage.  although,  in eleni’s case,  she hadn’t found her own vows so dependable at all. “and i am certain god shall look fondly upon her grace’s efforts,”  eleni sympatised, “i'm also certain you must be delighted at the prospect of seeing augusta in versailles?  i haven’t heard fred speak of her, though i know the love he bears your brood.” 

#johannesbabenburg

[stuartseleni]

ofrixs‌:

he raised an eyebrow and watched her. without having a drink in his hand, he hardly knew what to do anymore, or even how to stand. “perhaps i enjoy things better naked,” he said with a sarcastic grin. “or, it could be that i don’t care for flowery words and sharp barbs. there’s no use prettying up people doing dastardly deeds, is there?” he squared his shoulders. “and it never fails to get a rise out of our beloved king.”

                  she sipped idly from the goblet, resisting the urge to furl her nose at the taste.  the scot then granted the cup back to frix, a trace of the rogue pigment staining her lips now marring the rim. “i do not enjoy the taste.” pursing her lips together, with a shake of her blonde head she murmured, “on the contrary. there’s every reason to conceal dastardly deeds. you and i would not stand here had our forefathers failed to. can we not spar, husband? i cannot recall the last we danced with one another - a pity, to be certain.”

#ofrixs

[stuartseleni]

ofrixs‌:

frix paused and let out a short breath. “please, go on. watch everything i do with a keen eye and profess to me my exact indiscretions. i am dying to hear your critique, my love.” he rolled his eyes and picked up a glass for wine. “if you truly wish that i not drink tonight, then tell me one absolutely true thing that would leave the courtiers aghast.” he stepped closer to her so only she could hear them. “i will not trim your words if you do not trim mine.”

                   “where to begin...”  she trailed off, fixing him with a glare so discreet that none other than her husband would be able to detect it.  “you wish to hear a ghastly truth? very well. they will all think you weak, fredrich, if you continue to linger in your wife’s shadow.”  with that, she plucked the goblet from his hand and sipped from its scarlet contents.  spinning on her heel, she scanned the ballroom for a familiar face. “you seem fixated with the idea that this, all of this, is a facade. me, this court. why so eager to undress it, fred?” 

#ofrixs

[stuartseleni]

ofrixs‌:

“can you never just speak plainly? is there some being holding your tongue for you?” frix muttered to her. they were amongst the people now and even he didn’t hold any illusions about what sort of facade they were meant to keep up. “it doesn’t matter. i need some damned wine,” he grumbled, adjusting his clothes once again. “i’m guessing you want to dance at some point?”

                   cerulean eyes flashed with annoyance in respond to his remark, though true to frix’s words she refrained from countering him, if only to avoid speaking plainly or worse, speaking from the heart. “if there is a being holding my tongue than there is one forcing yours to drink. do you ever stop to hear yourself speak, husband?”  she glanced about the crowded ballroom, absorbing the sights and sounds of so many warm-blooded courtiers. “if i am asked, i shall not refuse, if that is what you are implying. you mustn’t indulge overmuch, the eyes and ears of court are upon you and more importantly, as are johannes’.”  

#ofrixs

[stuartseleni]

johannesbabenburg‌:

“Perhaps we should not discus anything at all.” He looked pointedly to the priest, although he was barely listening to the preachings. He had appearances to play, and holding discussions during sermons fit into that in no way. “Perhaps it will dull the daggers.”

                     eleni stayed her tongue for the remainder of the sermon,  until they shuffled through the aisles in a steady queue of parishioners all seeking respite from the dank confines of the ancient cathedral.  “i have heard much talk on behalf of your majesty’s beloved austria whilst in versailles, even what my husband says well into his cups cannot negate the love for our people and nation in this court.”  she pressed the issue at hand, then, albeit casually. “would you not consider a french bride?” 

#johannesbabenburg

[stuartseleni]

                   “'tis magnificent, aunt,  though i must regrettably inform you that none could wear it better than you and any recipient would be left wanting.” wide-hooped skirts scratching along hardwood floors, eleni gracefully crossed the threshold into the room her aunt was currently occupying,  eyeing the trinket with a trace of marvel in her eyes. none could hold a candle to her beloved scotland in terms of craftsmanship, though this did not restrain eleni from admiring the mastery of distant nations - after all, she had grown exceedingly fond of austria’s decadent, albeit austere, galleries. “perhaps if i model it for you, it would give you a better idea of what the piece looks like on,” she suggested, already moving her hair back,  exposing the creamy column of her throat.

A delicate, pale hand carefully lifted a string of pearls and diamonds for the cushion on which it was presented. The valuable stones delicately woven into a simple pattern that glimmered like stars in the night sky as it hit the light. “Fit to decorate only the neck of the most beautiful of royalty, you say?” the marchioness mused, as her green hues shifted from the magnificent piece to the maker of it. It was said the the Parisian jewelers were one of the best, working day and night to offer the women of Versailles something that would make them shine as bright as the sun. This one clearly had mastered his crafts to the fullest, and now came to offer her a true showpiece. 

The noble was about to part her lips and speak when a guest entered the chambers in which she had taken place. Curious onlooking servants quickly scrambling to continue their duties, so only the herself, the jeweler and the newcomer were the only ones who remained. “Ah, as if Godsend you have arrived just at the right time. Will you please assist me deciding rather this would be a suitable present for someone very dear to me?”

#fscottshhighlands