forum Kill The Prince, Steal The Crown // Private rp

Started May 30, 2019 by @croccin-champagne

tune

Cinthia looked back over to Yvonne and dipped her head slowly in a nod. She would watch Yvonne, if only to learn how to do it so she could do it herself if it worked. With that over with, Wolf smiled warmly and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest to examine Yvonne and her expressions. She seemed happy to have the opportunity, and there was something else underneath that. He wanted to help her, he really did, and it starts with this small retaliation against his mother and typical royal-commoner interaction. He spread his arms out and offered a crooked grin.

Yvonne stilled, furrowing her brows in confusion at Wolf for a moment before realizing what he wanted. A hug? The prince was offering her a hug? She opened her mouth to ask what he was thinking, but paused, instead handing off her trays to a passing servant headed towards the kitchens, and stepped forward. Without giving herself the chance to second guess this, she wrapped her arms around him in a hug that carried a surprising strength. And a whole lot of gratefulness. "I owe you one, for this. Any time, any place."

Wolf immediately wrapped his arms around Yvonne and hugged her tightly but not too much so that it seems constricting. He rested his head on her shoulder and murmured, "You don't owe me anything." And she really didn't. This was of his own free will, and what he would be gaining from it wouldn't need anything from Yvonne. "Just stay safe until I can get my mother to stop being a bully," he added with a soft chuckle.

"I will do my best." Yvonne promised, huffing a small laugh at that. She would, try at least. She couldn't make any promises though. Working here, especially as an on call servant, was never ideal when it came to safety. But she could at least do her best to avoid finding herself in trouble. "And again, thank you. I might have to say it a million times."

Lily had made it so long. She'd done so well, pushing down the uprising panic, even as her hands began to shake. But the more times people bumped into her, the more the roar of chatter and music began to get to her, the more panicked she became. Even her beloved strawberries couldn't save her. She couldn't even bring herself to eat them. All she could do was nurse a glass of bubbly champagne, eyeing the refreshment table and wondering if it was worth trying again. Just to get her mind off of the fog invading, the darkness enroaching on her rational thought. Just a little longer. Just a bit more. Then you can slip out unnoticed. Its going to be okay.

Wolf smiled and lightly kissed Yvonne's cheek. "Anytime, sweet, anytime."

Rhydar lost count of the drinks he's had, but he was aware enough to know that he was slightly tipsy. He was getting irritated with all the people trying to hog his attention, ladies swarming him and asking questions about the 'clearly false' rumors about him and Lily. Just the thought that they didn't believe he could possibly pick a commoner had him wanting to leave, but he knew he couldn't ditch without due cause. So, he settled with seeing Lily again and letting her steal his attention for a bit.

He spotted her in the crowd and did what he normally did—snuck up behind her for a surprise hug. He didn't yet realize she was stressed already, and the alcohol had addled his mind enough to make him forget to be careful when touching her, so he slipped his arm around her waist and pressed a soft kiss to the side of her head. "Hey," he murmured.

When an arm wrapped around her waist, Lily froze. And that was the end of her composure and iron-walls in her mind. In the back of her mind, she made the connection to Rhydar, the soft touches and quiet voice and the scent of pine, but all she could focus on was the alcohol on his breath, and the arm around her waist. Gentle as it was, it felt all too much like an arm she knew too well. Her glass slipped from her hands, the shaking growing worse and making it impossible for her to hold anything as she tried to move.

Tried, but couldn't. She couldn't bring herself to take a step away. It wouldn't solve everything, but it might have helped. If only she had been able to make her feet move, to make her lips move, to move anything beyond the shaking as she stood frozen in place, shattered glass and champagne at her feet and nothing but a blank expression on her face. It's Rhydar. It's just Rhydar. But it didn't feel like Rhydar, with the memory her mind was playing like a movie in her head. A voice in her ear, hands on her waist, then thighs. She drew into herself, searching desperately for her happy place and finding it was gone, finding herself stuck viewing both the world around her and the memory she wanted erased from her mind forever.

Rhydar knew something was wrong almost instantly, that alone enough to sober him up. A glass shattered at Lily's feet, and that was all the movement he could see from her. Beyond that, she was as still as a statue, barely breathing, barely reacting to the world around her. He slowly retracted his arm, not wanting to move too fast and spook Lily, and stepped away. He didn't move too far away, just enough to maneuver himself around her so he was standing in front of her. "Lily," he said softly, "Lily darling, it's me." He reached out to her out of instinct, but his hands stopped halfway to her arms, fingers curling in and dropping to his sides.

Panic, he suddenly realized, she's panicking. It was similar to that of when Cinthia broke down randomly when the hallucinations got bad, though his sister was more disturbing than this. He pushed that train of thought aside and repeated Lily's name again, keeping a safe distance from her. Bystanders were starting to form around them, desperate for some gossip. Rhydar whirled on them and snarled at them to back the fuck off, startling them all. From nowhere, Demitri smoothly stepped in and shepherded them away with a distraction, though Rhydar's attention was back on Lily, so he didn't know what the spy had done to garner their attention so quickly.

Lily was only half aware of what was going on around her, and entirely unable to compute it. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't breathe, couldn't do anything but grab her forearms and grip them hard enough to draw blood beneath her nails, even as Rhydar tried to get her attention and as Demetri removed the people crowding around and making her panic worse. Breathe, breathe, breathe but she couldn't breathe, all she could do was shake.

There was a voice. Right in her ear, the ghost of the demon that refused to leave her alone the most. Riko, whispering, taunting her as she swayed on her feet, trying as hard as she could not to hit the floor. "You are nameless now, you are mine. Do not think anyone will ever save you. You belong here now. Nothing but a money making tool."

Anything he could try to help Lily was either risky or already not working. Rhydar didn't know what to do. He knew that they were causing a scene yet again and that it was the last thing Lily would want to happen, so he had to think fast. They needed to leave, now. But anything he'd do would trigger her, and she wasn't in the greatest state of mind to give him any indication that she was okay with something or that she even heard him. She wasn't responding to him calling her name. His eyes narrowed in on the bubbling of blood beneath her nails.

Rhydar clenched his jaw and stepped forward, dipping his head down so he could whisper into her ear. "I'm sorry. Please forgive me." He wasted no time and snuck his fingers around her arm, prying it out of her grasp. His grip was firm and unrelenting, not about to let her go in her panic. With his other arm, he wrapped an arm around her body and used that as a way to force her body to move out of its position while his grip on her arm kept her from clawing at herself and him, at least for the most part.

He dragged her out of the ballroom and into the hall, though he didn't stop once they were out. Something else was up. So he did what he did last time and pulled her into the courtyard, the night almost prickling with its low temperature. He sat her down onto the edge of the fountain, dipping his fingers into the running water and running it over her brow, nose, cheeks, collarbones, arms. He swiped his damp and freezing thumb over the veins of the inside of her wrist, dripped some water over her brow so it trailed down her nose in racing droplets. "Lily, come back to me," he pleaded softly.

Lily thrashed exactly once. One movement, kind of a half hearted jerking, before going limp against him. Her feet moved on some autopilot instinct, carrying her along disjointedly as Rhydar led her out of the ballroom. Without the pain in her arm, she had nothing else to focus on, sinking further and further into her own mind and memories until-

Cold. Her face was cold. Why was it cold? This didn’t fit the memory in her mind, didn’t fit the replayed events. Then her collarbone, her arms and her wrists. Cold. It worked, much better than the pain had, at pulling her out of herself a bit. She could hear now. The crickets, the soft gurgle of the stream, the cool air and Rhydar’s voice. She just…couldn’t speak. Couldn’t do anything but shake as the water droplets dripped down her nose, still feelings phantom hands on her skin. It took her so long, what felt like hours but was maybe twenty minutes at most. It took her so long to finally lift one hand, tugging desperately at the fabric of the blasted red dress, eyes meeting his. They were dark. Dark and pleading, scared and trying to convey the harm the dress was causing. Even if he had been the trigger, he was the only person she trusted to help her.

Rhydar didn't break his gaze from her as he waited for a response. He continued to keep his hand cold from the water, brushing it over her skin as it seemed to have worked. He didn't grab her again, just a light brush over the skin to continue to place sparks of cold. When that slight movement happened, he was quick to look up into Lily's eyes. His heart broke at the pleading in them, the dark color they took on. He said nothing, just lightly cupped her face in his hands and nodded, then let his touch slip away.

His fingers hooked around her wrist, tugging just once to let her know he wanted her to stand up. Cinthia wouldn't mind him raiding her closet, she didn't care much for clothing anyway beyond the practicality of it. There had to be something he could snatch for Lily to change into, something besides red. I say that as if Cin would ever have anything besides dark.

He understood. The relief that brought her, along with him keeping his touches brief and only necessary, was incredible. Even if she couldn’t appreciate it now, and even if her skin still crawled from being led out of the ballroom, she knew she would be eternally grateful as soon as she could compute that.

Lily stood when he tugged on her wrist, wavering on her feet as her legs wobbled, before managing to keep standing. She followed him, silent except for the occasional too-loud and shaky breath, often sounded cut off. Tears made their way down her cheeks slowly, the return to the waking world bringing with it more pain and realization than she wanted. You’re never going to be okay. You’re always going to be broken and worthless.

((my baby…))

Rhydar led her to the princess' quarters, then went in without hesitation. If his sister, for some reason, had a problem with his intrusion, then she could take it up with him. Lily needed help, and he wasn't beyond breaking unspoken rules to provide that help. Wordlessly, he let go of her and went to the closet after he had shut the door and brought her to the middle of the bedroom. No dresses, he decided as he looked through the large closet, fingers skimming over materials for something not red and not a dress. It was quicker than he thought it would be.

He pulled out a black nightgown made of soft fleece and trimmed with fluffy fur. It was clear from the excess material that it was loose and meant to drape over the body and partially the floor. This will likely work. He pulled it off the hanger and went over to Lily, showing it to her silently with a question in his eyes.

When Rhydar showed her the night gown, she let out a small sound of relief, nodding a few times. The nods themselves were sort of stilted, just like al of her movements were right now. She reached out, fingers finding his wrist, and tapped twice. A thank you. And asking him to stay, for a moment. She didn’t think she could get the dress off on her own, too many laces and things, especially for the way her hands were shaking.

Lily held his gaze for as long as she could, before those darkly swirling eyes dropped to the nightgown in his hands. She let go of him, motioning to her back. Another question. This muteness was making it so hard to communicate, but she didn’t trust herself to speak. If she even could, since every word she tried to form came out as nothing more than a broken sound. I’m sorry.

Rhydar smiled sadly and set the gown over his shoulder as he walked around her. The laces caught his eye and he instantly knew that she wouldn't be able to get that on her own. Mother's doing, for sure. Dammit, she's getting a mouthful from me. His fingers deftly worked to untie and loosen the laces, though he made sure to not completely undo it—he wasn't about to undress her while she was like this without her asking him to, and even then he'd make sure to quickly get her into the gown.

It broke his heart to see her like this, and to know that he had been the one to pull the trigger on the taut wire. He should've known better, should've paid better attention, should've let her opt out of the ball, should've done something different. He couldn't help but put himself at blame, even if it was his mother that ordered the dress—something he was beginning to think was the main issue. If he had done anything differently, this wouldn't have happened. He let out a soft breath and pressed his lips to the back of her head, murmuring "I'm sorry," before undoing the last bit of the laces.

Lily’s shoulders tensed as Rhydar undid the laces, unable to help the wariness. It was habitual, born from circumstances where the only reason a man was undoing your dress was for sex. Consensual or not. It was consensual. Riko was always right, wasn’t he? And he was right when he said that was all you would amount to. When Rhydar’s hands left her back after his apology, her heart splintered.

She turned to him, catching his hand even as her stomach turned with the contact. Lifting it, she pressed the back of his hand to her lips, gently, the touch so soft it was more like butterfly wings than a kiss. A ‘thank you’. A ‘you don’t have to apologize’. Because this wasn’t his fault. It was hers. No one but hers. For being stupid and for not leaving and for coming here and thinking that she was magically better. For not thinking.

He smiled faintly, almost sadly, as he lightly pressed his thumb into the inside of her wrist to the point where he could feel her pulse, then slipped out of her grasp. "I'll be in the sitting room," he whispered, handing the gown to Lily before stepping away and leaving the bedroom.

Cinthia's sitting room was surprisingly cluttered for the princess's outward appearance. Most people assumed she was incredibly OCD, but in reality, she was an organized mess. There were papers all over the floor that he carefully stepped over, as well as papers and writing utensils galore on her desk. Her desk chair was turned over on its back from her standing up quickly, likely having gotten an epiphany earlier. The bookshelf near the long and cushioned couch was cluttered with books sorted by genre on the shelves. Cinthia knew where everything was at any given moment, even if everyone else was confused.

It took Lily longer than she liked to get the dress off and the nightgown on. Even with the straps undone most of the way, her hands still shook, and in the quiet of the room she found the tears returning. She made it long enough to get the nightgown on, before sinking to her knees. It was okay, now, for her to break. Alone—well, with Rhydar—without anyone around to watch. She wasn't making a scene anymore. And that's what mattered.

There, on her knees, crying silently, Lily felt even more hopeless than ever. She felt dirty, like a used handkerchief, nothing more than someone else's trash left forgotten on the floor. Once again, her fingers found her arms, this time more punishment than drawing herself out of a memory. "Filthy and useless." Would she ever be more than what Riko had made her into? Or was she doomed to stay like this, stay nothing but broken and un-fixable?

Rhydar paced the room as best as he could without disrupting Cinthia's paper ritual setup, running his hands through his hair repeatedly. It was a mess by the time he sighed and walked over to the door, then turned around and leaned his back against the wood to slide down to the floor. His arms rested on his knees while his head leaned back against the wood, eyes closed. He really didn't want to do this, but he didn't know how else to help Lily. He needed to know.

He opened his eyes, but he saw nothing but black, his Seer ability already in action as it sought Lily out. His magic snuck around the inky blackness until it found what he was looking for, and the sight made him all the more upset. Her mind was a giant lily flower, just as he had imagined, but it was wilted and sad-looking, some petals picked off. Its leaves were curled up and stressed from exposure. A tortured mind. He didn't allow himself to dwell on that before delving into the depths and searching for what haunted this beautiful flower.

Lily eventually pulled herself to the door, leaning against it to place herself closer to the room Rhydar was in. There was a comfort to knowing he was right there. Rhydar was her safe place, it seemed. Not the memories of the farm anymore—those were too tinged with bad memories—, nor memories of learning her knives, baking sales and running through fields. Rhydar was her happy place.

Even if she didn't deserve him. He may have been her happy place, but he was leagues ahead of her. He was worth more in every way, a better person and of a much higher status. If something happened to him, the kingdom would weep. If something happened to her, the only ones to mourn would be the flowers. But she would be returning to them, to them and the ocean her ancestors had called home. So there would not be much mourning.

She could have died in that brothel. And some days, like right now, she believed fully that she should have. There was no coming back from the hands and the bruises and the tears, the venomous words whispered sweetly in her ear. There was no coming back from the things that had been done to her, the things that had been done. Rhydar didn't deserve that. No one deserved that. Not even she deserved that.

Rhydar couldn't have steeled himself enough for what he was about to see after sneaking into Lily's subconscious. It took a bit of delving into her mind to find what he was looking for—it was never easy to dredge up suppressed memories—but he eventually found what he was looking for. Except, he almost wished he hadn't. Even with the lack of connection, he could all-too vividly see everything that nearly smacked him in the face.

He saw, in the point of view of a frail, scared girl, his precious little flower being violated by countless men without any say in what was happening to her. Again and again, face after face, scenario after scenario. He felt her skin crawl with each touch, felt the choked back tears and the fear keeping her compliant. He saw other girls get beaten half to death, and then Lily get dragged into it. His own skin and bones quaked with each blow, muscles twitching with flinches even if he was paralyzed so far away from his conscious. He felt hands roughly grasping at her, pulling her away and to a horrid life of the unknown.

Kidnapped. Tortured. Beaten. Assaulted. More and more, they kept coming, almost daring him to break the connection out of disgust, fear, you name it. There was a small doorway where their connection lied, acting as if it was taunting him to flee. But he didn't. He turned away and watched without abandoning her, without shying away from her past. He watched until there was nothing more for her to unknowingly give him.

It went dark, the memories fading away to reveal the garden of wildflowers and grass. He could hear the suggestion of an ocean, something that piqued his curiosity, but now wasn't the time to question it. Distantly, he felt the tears. They welled in his eyes, rolled down his cheeks, traced his jaw, caressed his throat. Distantly, he took a shuddering breath, trying not to let Lily hear him. He knew. He knew, and he would do everything in his power to heal those wounds, to ease the hurt and smooth the edges. He wouldn't run away from her. He wouldn't shame her or look at her with disgust. That's the furthest from what he felt.

"I love you," he told her, silently, his voice floating along that garden within her mind, "I love you, and I want you to know that you mean the world to me. I want you to know that I never want you to hurt again, not like how they all made you hurt. I want you to know that I'll do anything to help you, and I'll never stop for as long as I'm by your side, for as long as I live."

Rhydar's voice flooded her mind, and Lily couldn't help the muffled sob that caught in her throat. His voice, somehow, managed to chase away her darkness. Like a candle flame growing larger, the shadows and self-loathing in her mind stood no chance, burned away slowly. He was there. Even if he deserved so much better than her, he was there. Right outside that door, waiting and speaking to her like she was the world to him, just like he was to her.

She still couldn't speak, couldn't make the words she normally trusted so much leave her, so she settled for thinking. All the love she could muster, the gratefulness and the hope he brought her, all of it. "You've already done so much more for me than I could ever hope for, Rhydar. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I can't be what you deserve, and I'm sorry you can barely hold me without my issues becoming a barrier. I owe you a world I could never give you."

"You deserve the best, Lily," he countered. He would've shook his head if he wasn't so disconnected from his body. The tears still streamed unhindered down his face, even if he focused on her words and his mission to comfort her. "I certainly can't give you that, but I'll do my best. We're both flawed people, both unable to believe we get what we deserve. I honestly can't believe you've put up with me so long and still think you aren't good enough, when you are honestly the only person beyond my siblings who have stuck by my side for as long as you have. We deserve happiness, and you make me happy, flaws and all. I wouldn't have you any other way, if only less scarred because I'd never want you to be put through something like what you've gone through. No one should."

"Putting up with you feels like a privilege I don't deserve." She admitted, squeezing her eyes shut to focus on keeping the self loathing at bay. Part of her wanted to open the door, to find him just to hold his hand for the only comfort she thought she could handle right now. "I love you, flaws and all. You look at my scars and see flowers, something I didn't think possible." And really, it didn't seem possible. How could someone look at her, of all people, like that? Bruised and broken, undeserving? And yet Rhydar saw the same thing she did, but in a wildly different light. "Where….where are you?"

"I love you too, Lily. Nothing will change that." And nothing could change that fact. He had seen everything she was hiding, seen things most people would let scare them off. Most people would see that at think she wasn't worth the trouble of trying, perhaps something even she thought of herself. But that thought never crossed his mind. Perfection is a flaw in of itself, because it's fake and makes no room for improvement or personality. Lily was who she was because of her past, and he'd be a royal asshole to treat her any differently because of what he discovered.

There was a hint of a slight chuckle, as if the answer or the random question was amusing. "On the other side of the door," he said simply, then retreated a bit so the distance his magic had to travel was less, allowing him less time to need to pull back into himself. He didn't leave her just yet however, in case she still wanted to talk.