JamesMartin
Sa souvraya niende misain ye
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Inner Sanctum Nobility
♔ Champion ♔
This is an excerpt from my roleplay "For My Country" with my magnificent writing partner @Phillipa
She let me godmode her character a bit for this one, so it forms a fairly complete scene. You can read the full thing here (Please only consider the excerpt for voting!)http://writerssanctum.com/threads/for-my-country-phillipaxjamesmartin.1202/page-12
Needed context:
Elizabeth is his Mistress
Evangeline is his Betrothed
Victoria is his sister.
Worldbuilding, character building, setting the atmosphere... It's the best I can do
Enjoy!!!
------------------------------------------------------------
James entered the hall to the thudding halt of his guard. They formed up outside, unable to enter and instead giving a final salute to their Emperor and their commander. General Edward Blackthorn walked in behind the Emperor as his entrance was announced, having joined soon after James had left his rooms. He wore a similar uniform, albeit, with less ornamentation and less indication of rank. Within a handful of steps inside the room, the General had Elizabeth on his arm. She wore a gown of a strange, flowing silk that seemed to move in ripples over her form at the slightest motion. It was a vibrant red, as were the rubies that covered the bracelets on her bare forearms and with the birds patterned on it in full lifelike size, they appeared to be in flight as she walked. Hers was not a unique vibrancy. Excluding Victoria, who was to wear her family's blue if all went to plan, and a handful of distant cousins to the imperial line, the women of the court dressed in reds and whites and golds, a sign of their support and approval of their new Empress in general and the marriage in particular. There had been talk of dissension—but a casual word to the right servant suggesting that there might be a way to get red into any poorly chosen dresses by way of a very sharp knife ensured that every woman of any rank sufficient to be invited to so momentous an event was dressed in support. Their vibrancy contrasted against their husbands, brothers and sons, each and every one of whom wore black, blue and silver in support of the emperor, whether it be a uniform, as the younger men favoured or simple formal wear of his fathers generation.
James walked with slow, methodical purpose. Every step slow and measured, but not to the point his movement seemed lethargic. It was the casual, deadly grace of a panther, but with none of the threatening edge. He looked straight ahead. At the base of the throne, on the dais, was where he would soon be wed. Directly at the base of the stairs that climbed to his usual seat, a pair of thrones in grey-white wood identical save for the sigil on the cushioned back had been set up. One a dragon, one a lion. It was there that the couple would sit once they were wed, allowing the highest guests to present their gifts.
As he reached the base of the dais, he turned and stopped, standing regally with his hands behind his back. He would wait here for his bride. Meanwhile, Elizabeth and the General each accepted a cushion from a servant. One held Evangeline's marriage necklace, one of the most intricate pieces of jewellery that James had ever seen, two mirrored dragons in silver, their bodies entwined all the way around to form a close fitting hold on a slender throat, while at the front, filling the gaps between their heads, was a single massive amethyst that was itself carved, a rose in bloom showing on its surface. Marriage necklaces were traditionally lacking in colour, though intricate patterns were favoured by those who could afford them. Only the centre stone was seen on a new bride. The colour came through the years, stones being added and removed to represent the growing of their marriage. A stone added when she learned she was pregnant, replaced when she gave birth, a stone indicating a boy or a girl, enamelling added when they came of age and married, more stones for each son and each daughter, for other milestones of marriage. It was quite possible to meet a married woman and in a single look know her entire married life. Women in the empire did not wear necklaces—nothing could more worthy of such prominent display than their pride in their family. He did not see what was on the other cushion before Elizabeth carried it up the stairs. Whatever it was, Evangeline would have chosen. Sometimes a ring, sometimes a bracer for the arm or a broach, from time to time even a knife or a belt—there was more variety for men, but the purpose was the same. A mark of the marriage and a token from his wife to carry at all times.
The ceremony for the Emperor and Empress was always complicated. After all, there was no higher authority to dictate the marriage. Instead, the two highest nobles, one male, one female, would act as stand ins, witnesses and speak the lines that were required to drive the ceremony onwards. James saw his sister enter from the side, standing near the front centre and giving him a slight smile. That was the sign that it would not be long and James took one moment to take in the entire throne room as it was, the atmosphere Evangeline's instructions had created beautiful to behold. But a woman in pale purple appeared at the end of the hall and his eyes suddenly forgot how to see anything else.
Where yesterday she had entered the room like a mid summer thunderhead, here she entered like the first rain of spring. Soft, hesitant, but bestowing a beauty on all she passed. The soft sound of singing echoed from the back, but James heard only her footfalls. The woman approaching was the same and yet so utterly different from the woman he had seen yesterday. She managed to show innocence without naivete, virginity without prudishness, grace without grandeur and beauty without arrogance. He watches her so intently that when she looks up and meets his eyes from only a pace apart, there is almost surprise at how close she had gotten. He takes just a second to drink it all in. The ailk and lace of the dress, the gold and ivory of the crown and the woman who so perfectly wore both. If he was stunned though, he did not show it. He gave a perfect bow of his head and offered his arm, allowing her to take it. A simple gesture, but an important one. Her right hand in his left, he walked them both slowly up the stairs, his own steps carefully measured so she could keep up with her dress. They came to stand before the two waiting nobles, James in front of Edward, Evangeline in front of Elizabeth. It was the general who spoke first in a clear, military tone.
"By my rights as High Fist of the Imperial Guard, I speak for the Emperor"
Elizabeth spoke next, her voice soft and delicate, but carrying "By my rights as High Dutchess of Aden, I speak for the Empress." She gave Evanegline the smallest of smiles.
The two of them spoke in unison, "We are gathered here for the binding of two souls into one. We are gathered here for the binding of two hearts into one. We are gathered here for the binding of two lives into one. Let all who stand in witness know that on this day, Emperor James Dracarys, the Third of His Name. The Young Dragon; Father of the Empire, King of all Between Seas and Beyond them, Master of the Legions, Giver of Laws, Conqueror of the Steel Skulls, Wielder of the Flames and Breaker of a Thousand Blades, will take as his wife Empress Evangeline D'Rosier. First of her Name and Mother to the Nation. Queen of All Beneath the Sun and Dutchess of Vaylendara. May their ancestors favour their union. May it be blessed with fertility. May it be blessed with prosperity. May it be blessed with happiness."
James turned away from them, towards Evangeline. He held his hands out, palms up, letting her lay hers on top, palms down, before they closed their fingers together. "Evangeline." He let the word hang, his voice soft but with a hidden power, like the last tremor before the start of the avalanche. "I can offer no more than what any man can. I offer you my sword, that you may see the blood of those who would harm you upon it. I offer you my wrath, that you may see them tremble before it. I offer you my heart, such as it is, that you may find affection and happiness as best I can provide them. And I offer you the promise of children to fill our halls with laughter and bring joy in years of sckness and age. You will find safety in my home, welcome in my family and peace by my hearth." He paused, as though finished, before he added "I am Emperor. You are my Empress All that we are, all that we were, all that we will ever be, is given to our people. I hope, my dearest Evangeline, that we might find contentment—and happiness, in whatever remains." Though he kept it brief, he had a genuine expression on his face. And as he said 'happiness', he allowed a slight look to cross his face. An emperor could not apologize. An Emperor could not be sorry. But James the man was there. And James could regret the words he had spoken too freely the night before. He still believed them true—that happiness would elude him forever. But perhaps there was no reason that Evangeline had to believe that he still believed that too.
He withdrew his hands, lifting the veil on his bride, before reaching over and taking the necklace from the cushion. He placed it around her throat with far more delicacy than one would have thought possible, looking at his size. He smiled at her genuinely as he spoke the words.
"Let all men see—I take this woman, on this day, into my care and into my heart."
He reached into his pocket and drew out an ornate silk cord. He had explained this part of the ceremony to Evangeline personally. He took her right arm, drew it out and pushed up her sleeve. He spoke clearly, tying the cord around her forearm firmly, leaving a considerable length at both ends. If the knot separated, it was an ill omen.
"Evangeline D'Rosier, by my ancestors, I bind myself to you. I swear that you shall always have my protection." He wrapped the cord once around her arm.
"Evangeline D'Rosier, by my ancestors, I bind myself to you. I swear that you shall always have my affection." He wrapped the cord again.
"Evangeline D'Rosier, by my ancestors, I bind myself to you. I swear that our children shall find no better father to instruct them." He wrapped the cord around her wrist.
He gave her a reassuring smile. Now it would be her personal vows, her token, then her three vows of union. With each vow, she would bind the cord around his left arm, working up from the wrist as he held her hand. And then, once done, Edward and Elizabeth would finish their role as witnesses by wrapping the cord around their joined arms three times each. The rest of their day would be spent joined—a literal bond, holding them together until the time they could retire and join as man and wife.
And once that cord was secured and their marriage completed—well, she had been so patient waiting for that promised kiss. No reason to make her wait any longer.
She let me godmode her character a bit for this one, so it forms a fairly complete scene. You can read the full thing here (Please only consider the excerpt for voting!)http://writerssanctum.com/threads/for-my-country-phillipaxjamesmartin.1202/page-12
Needed context:
Elizabeth is his Mistress
Evangeline is his Betrothed
Victoria is his sister.
Worldbuilding, character building, setting the atmosphere... It's the best I can do
Enjoy!!!
------------------------------------------------------------
James entered the hall to the thudding halt of his guard. They formed up outside, unable to enter and instead giving a final salute to their Emperor and their commander. General Edward Blackthorn walked in behind the Emperor as his entrance was announced, having joined soon after James had left his rooms. He wore a similar uniform, albeit, with less ornamentation and less indication of rank. Within a handful of steps inside the room, the General had Elizabeth on his arm. She wore a gown of a strange, flowing silk that seemed to move in ripples over her form at the slightest motion. It was a vibrant red, as were the rubies that covered the bracelets on her bare forearms and with the birds patterned on it in full lifelike size, they appeared to be in flight as she walked. Hers was not a unique vibrancy. Excluding Victoria, who was to wear her family's blue if all went to plan, and a handful of distant cousins to the imperial line, the women of the court dressed in reds and whites and golds, a sign of their support and approval of their new Empress in general and the marriage in particular. There had been talk of dissension—but a casual word to the right servant suggesting that there might be a way to get red into any poorly chosen dresses by way of a very sharp knife ensured that every woman of any rank sufficient to be invited to so momentous an event was dressed in support. Their vibrancy contrasted against their husbands, brothers and sons, each and every one of whom wore black, blue and silver in support of the emperor, whether it be a uniform, as the younger men favoured or simple formal wear of his fathers generation.
James walked with slow, methodical purpose. Every step slow and measured, but not to the point his movement seemed lethargic. It was the casual, deadly grace of a panther, but with none of the threatening edge. He looked straight ahead. At the base of the throne, on the dais, was where he would soon be wed. Directly at the base of the stairs that climbed to his usual seat, a pair of thrones in grey-white wood identical save for the sigil on the cushioned back had been set up. One a dragon, one a lion. It was there that the couple would sit once they were wed, allowing the highest guests to present their gifts.
As he reached the base of the dais, he turned and stopped, standing regally with his hands behind his back. He would wait here for his bride. Meanwhile, Elizabeth and the General each accepted a cushion from a servant. One held Evangeline's marriage necklace, one of the most intricate pieces of jewellery that James had ever seen, two mirrored dragons in silver, their bodies entwined all the way around to form a close fitting hold on a slender throat, while at the front, filling the gaps between their heads, was a single massive amethyst that was itself carved, a rose in bloom showing on its surface. Marriage necklaces were traditionally lacking in colour, though intricate patterns were favoured by those who could afford them. Only the centre stone was seen on a new bride. The colour came through the years, stones being added and removed to represent the growing of their marriage. A stone added when she learned she was pregnant, replaced when she gave birth, a stone indicating a boy or a girl, enamelling added when they came of age and married, more stones for each son and each daughter, for other milestones of marriage. It was quite possible to meet a married woman and in a single look know her entire married life. Women in the empire did not wear necklaces—nothing could more worthy of such prominent display than their pride in their family. He did not see what was on the other cushion before Elizabeth carried it up the stairs. Whatever it was, Evangeline would have chosen. Sometimes a ring, sometimes a bracer for the arm or a broach, from time to time even a knife or a belt—there was more variety for men, but the purpose was the same. A mark of the marriage and a token from his wife to carry at all times.
The ceremony for the Emperor and Empress was always complicated. After all, there was no higher authority to dictate the marriage. Instead, the two highest nobles, one male, one female, would act as stand ins, witnesses and speak the lines that were required to drive the ceremony onwards. James saw his sister enter from the side, standing near the front centre and giving him a slight smile. That was the sign that it would not be long and James took one moment to take in the entire throne room as it was, the atmosphere Evangeline's instructions had created beautiful to behold. But a woman in pale purple appeared at the end of the hall and his eyes suddenly forgot how to see anything else.
Where yesterday she had entered the room like a mid summer thunderhead, here she entered like the first rain of spring. Soft, hesitant, but bestowing a beauty on all she passed. The soft sound of singing echoed from the back, but James heard only her footfalls. The woman approaching was the same and yet so utterly different from the woman he had seen yesterday. She managed to show innocence without naivete, virginity without prudishness, grace without grandeur and beauty without arrogance. He watches her so intently that when she looks up and meets his eyes from only a pace apart, there is almost surprise at how close she had gotten. He takes just a second to drink it all in. The ailk and lace of the dress, the gold and ivory of the crown and the woman who so perfectly wore both. If he was stunned though, he did not show it. He gave a perfect bow of his head and offered his arm, allowing her to take it. A simple gesture, but an important one. Her right hand in his left, he walked them both slowly up the stairs, his own steps carefully measured so she could keep up with her dress. They came to stand before the two waiting nobles, James in front of Edward, Evangeline in front of Elizabeth. It was the general who spoke first in a clear, military tone.
"By my rights as High Fist of the Imperial Guard, I speak for the Emperor"
Elizabeth spoke next, her voice soft and delicate, but carrying "By my rights as High Dutchess of Aden, I speak for the Empress." She gave Evanegline the smallest of smiles.
The two of them spoke in unison, "We are gathered here for the binding of two souls into one. We are gathered here for the binding of two hearts into one. We are gathered here for the binding of two lives into one. Let all who stand in witness know that on this day, Emperor James Dracarys, the Third of His Name. The Young Dragon; Father of the Empire, King of all Between Seas and Beyond them, Master of the Legions, Giver of Laws, Conqueror of the Steel Skulls, Wielder of the Flames and Breaker of a Thousand Blades, will take as his wife Empress Evangeline D'Rosier. First of her Name and Mother to the Nation. Queen of All Beneath the Sun and Dutchess of Vaylendara. May their ancestors favour their union. May it be blessed with fertility. May it be blessed with prosperity. May it be blessed with happiness."
James turned away from them, towards Evangeline. He held his hands out, palms up, letting her lay hers on top, palms down, before they closed their fingers together. "Evangeline." He let the word hang, his voice soft but with a hidden power, like the last tremor before the start of the avalanche. "I can offer no more than what any man can. I offer you my sword, that you may see the blood of those who would harm you upon it. I offer you my wrath, that you may see them tremble before it. I offer you my heart, such as it is, that you may find affection and happiness as best I can provide them. And I offer you the promise of children to fill our halls with laughter and bring joy in years of sckness and age. You will find safety in my home, welcome in my family and peace by my hearth." He paused, as though finished, before he added "I am Emperor. You are my Empress All that we are, all that we were, all that we will ever be, is given to our people. I hope, my dearest Evangeline, that we might find contentment—and happiness, in whatever remains." Though he kept it brief, he had a genuine expression on his face. And as he said 'happiness', he allowed a slight look to cross his face. An emperor could not apologize. An Emperor could not be sorry. But James the man was there. And James could regret the words he had spoken too freely the night before. He still believed them true—that happiness would elude him forever. But perhaps there was no reason that Evangeline had to believe that he still believed that too.
He withdrew his hands, lifting the veil on his bride, before reaching over and taking the necklace from the cushion. He placed it around her throat with far more delicacy than one would have thought possible, looking at his size. He smiled at her genuinely as he spoke the words.
"Let all men see—I take this woman, on this day, into my care and into my heart."
He reached into his pocket and drew out an ornate silk cord. He had explained this part of the ceremony to Evangeline personally. He took her right arm, drew it out and pushed up her sleeve. He spoke clearly, tying the cord around her forearm firmly, leaving a considerable length at both ends. If the knot separated, it was an ill omen.
"Evangeline D'Rosier, by my ancestors, I bind myself to you. I swear that you shall always have my protection." He wrapped the cord once around her arm.
"Evangeline D'Rosier, by my ancestors, I bind myself to you. I swear that you shall always have my affection." He wrapped the cord again.
"Evangeline D'Rosier, by my ancestors, I bind myself to you. I swear that our children shall find no better father to instruct them." He wrapped the cord around her wrist.
He gave her a reassuring smile. Now it would be her personal vows, her token, then her three vows of union. With each vow, she would bind the cord around his left arm, working up from the wrist as he held her hand. And then, once done, Edward and Elizabeth would finish their role as witnesses by wrapping the cord around their joined arms three times each. The rest of their day would be spent joined—a literal bond, holding them together until the time they could retire and join as man and wife.
And once that cord was secured and their marriage completed—well, she had been so patient waiting for that promised kiss. No reason to make her wait any longer.