fic: Coronation
Apr. 27th, 2015 05:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bonnefoisTitle: Coronation
Series: Long Live The Queen
Character/pairing: dark route Elodie
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 409
Summary: The thought of kneeling and accepting commands like any commoner galled her.
Author's note: Napoleon allusions? Napoleon allusions. Anyways, in the game Elodie can be played a number of ways. This is a cruel Elodie who executed every noble who crossed her, and ended her Civil War in blood.
It wasn't nearly grand enough, that was her first thought. Her last gala had been more extravagant, and that'd been interrupted with bloodshed. Banion always had been so foolish and obvious in his attempts. The least he could have was some subtlety as he reached for the crown with his grimy hands.
No matter, what was left of him was rotting under the ground. Just as Arisse, Brin and all the others who had gotten in her way. Soon more would join them. The nobility must be watered with blood to remind them of what happened when they underestimated her.
The thought of kneeling and accepting commands like any commoner galled her. Decorum and acceptance were not her best points. The mantle tipped with fur was heavy, but Elodie refused to stoop. She would not submit to some lesser noble's whims. The priestess recited words, old tales and nothing to her. There was a murmur in the crowd as Elodie did not kneel. The priestess continued on, drawing upon the will of the gods to offer her prosperity in the coming years.
Just as the oath was about to be demanded of her, Elodie plucked the crown up and put it on her own head. It was heavier than expected, weighing down on her pink curls. But she held her head high; if she showed even a moment of weakness, there'd be a knife in her back before morning.
"By my rule, by my oath," she said.
She turned to the stunned audience expectantly. The first shaky cry of Long Live The Queen rose up haltingly, like a question.
The next came with more determination borne out of fear. Good, she thought. The commoners and nobles alike should know their place. Perhaps she'd find the most halting of them and string them up. If Arisse and Banion weren't enough examples, then more would have to follow.
Elodie had learned amidst the assassination attempts that the only way she'd survive nobility was to thrust her sword in someone else's back before they killed her.
Series: Long Live The Queen
Character/pairing: dark route Elodie
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 409
Summary: The thought of kneeling and accepting commands like any commoner galled her.
Author's note: Napoleon allusions? Napoleon allusions. Anyways, in the game Elodie can be played a number of ways. This is a cruel Elodie who executed every noble who crossed her, and ended her Civil War in blood.
It wasn't nearly grand enough, that was her first thought. Her last gala had been more extravagant, and that'd been interrupted with bloodshed. Banion always had been so foolish and obvious in his attempts. The least he could have was some subtlety as he reached for the crown with his grimy hands.
No matter, what was left of him was rotting under the ground. Just as Arisse, Brin and all the others who had gotten in her way. Soon more would join them. The nobility must be watered with blood to remind them of what happened when they underestimated her.
The thought of kneeling and accepting commands like any commoner galled her. Decorum and acceptance were not her best points. The mantle tipped with fur was heavy, but Elodie refused to stoop. She would not submit to some lesser noble's whims. The priestess recited words, old tales and nothing to her. There was a murmur in the crowd as Elodie did not kneel. The priestess continued on, drawing upon the will of the gods to offer her prosperity in the coming years.
Just as the oath was about to be demanded of her, Elodie plucked the crown up and put it on her own head. It was heavier than expected, weighing down on her pink curls. But she held her head high; if she showed even a moment of weakness, there'd be a knife in her back before morning.
"By my rule, by my oath," she said.
She turned to the stunned audience expectantly. The first shaky cry of Long Live The Queen rose up haltingly, like a question.
The next came with more determination borne out of fear. Good, she thought. The commoners and nobles alike should know their place. Perhaps she'd find the most halting of them and string them up. If Arisse and Banion weren't enough examples, then more would have to follow.
Elodie had learned amidst the assassination attempts that the only way she'd survive nobility was to thrust her sword in someone else's back before they killed her.
