#*shrug* idk it's late again and i'm taking a break from studying my calc notes

[obclus]

——————  •   ❝  uneasy lies the head that wears a crown ! ❞ the date is january 17th, the sounds of a newborn child echo through hospital walls — tradition breaks like the thinnest sheet of glass. this is your heir, your future, your legacy. washed away by the thing you fault most, an emotion, love.   .   .   .   — the history of you starts well before your birth, and as fate would have it, this was to be a tale of deceit. a betrayal most foul. should anyone ever question your lineage all they would have to do was read the story of your ancestors and be off running with their tails between their legs. yet, like all good stories, it was soon lost in time. blood began to wash away with the inauguration of each new heir. so that by the time your grandmother came around, house elison had been known for nothing but charity, temperance and grace. but you share blood with sirens, con artists and deceivers. you are the product of millennia coming to a staggering crescendo — and you are not meant to go gentle into that goodnight. elosie — your mother. a blonde warrior of a woman with a heart as strong and cruel to match the iron she surrounded herself in. originally she was second in the line of succession to the throne. but then there is fate, that calculated bastard, an attack descends on the royal family. your mother was still only a child, the softness of such an age, sixteen. sixteen years in her sister’s shadow, sixteen years standing shorter than her. here is where time introduces itself as your most valuable ally. exactly one month prior to silvia’s coronation, the attack occurs. the assailant is murdered on sight but not before he has wreaked his havoc. frenzy consumes the streets of the dutch square as your mother stares, face wet with the blood of her sister who lies on the carriage floor beside her. elosie’s screams pierce through the crowd as she tries to call attention to any surrounding guards, somewhere in the distance she can hear her parents voices, her father’s bellowing above the rest. her throat goes sore and the raven is silenced. she kneels down closer to her sister in fear, fingers hovering above her rigid body — she looks like a bird, so fragile and delicate. eventually silvia would succumb to head injuries and pass away. this led to elosie becoming the heir apparent. however, elosie had never been one who did quite fit into a family of royals. she did love her country ? of course, she’d be happy to die and defend it to her last dying breath, but after sixteen years as an extra piece of a puzzle that was not lacking, she found the newly imposed position too heavy for her to bear. most importantly she was not willing to give up her iron heart. and when she met maximilian dils at one of the royal family’s events, the two fell harder than lucifer from heaven. in the end, she had only just turned eighteen when they married. elosie also did not seek parliamentary approval for their marriage, as this is required in the netherlands, resulting in her having ceased to be in line to inherit the throne. the title of princess remained hers as she had only ceased the ability of becoming queen. regardless elosie moved to london with maximiliane, leaving your grandparents to rule over a broken country. then came along you, moth girl. you were a ripple that turned into a tsunami. you were the water so still, serene and patient, but it took you long to get there. your parents died when you were only seven years old. by that time you had visited your mother’s homeland only twice. once seven months after your birth, and the other when you turned four. both events were private as the grief your family had endured still felt fresh. your grandmother often visited you and saw the face of her lost daughter whenever she looked upon you. it tore at her heart when she had to leave your side, but what could she do ? she had a country waiting for her. and your mother tried her hardest to forge you of her own steel, but iron and steel weather to rust. after their untimely deaths, your grandparents swept you away to their lands full of castles. you see another side of luxury. sure you always had silk, lace and other fine linens but this was different. the air had a constant ringing now, like the sound of a knife clinking across a crystal glass, or the soung of an angel humming in your ear. your grandmother pushes a decree — HER ROYAL HIGHNESS princess ADALINDA of elison. you are to bare a crown on your head, it is not the same as that of a king or queen’s. it is light, but in that light you remember all the death and bloodshed that has placed the molded gold at the top of your head. though you may be ineligible of inheriting the throne — if your mother taught you anything at all, it is that you do not need a crown nor title to RULE. 

#so this is set to be before the official reinstatement of linda back into the royal house #i just wanted to post something today #probably should have posted this one first but #*shrug* idk it's late again and i'm taking a break from studying my calc notes #( let this remind you why you once feared the dark — edits. )