Melody had been expecting a hug, in fact she was almost looking forward to it, but seeing as he just stood there she wondered whether or not it would be appropriate. She didn’t exactly know how Queens greeting friends. She allowed him to bow, but took his hands when he said ’ Your Majesty.’ “Melody,” She corrected him, grinning before hugging him tightly. “Thank you for visiting.” Melody whispered before letting go.
How did you say that everything in your life was going wrong? How all of your plans of freedom had been tossed out the door? Her mouth was dry as she tried to figure out how to answer. On one hand she didn’t want to worry him, but on the other she was desperately seeking for someone to confide in.
She shrugged,” It’s been as well as I can be. it’s been stressful,” Melody admitted, lazily leading the Duke to the sitting room, where tea had been set up as well as chocolates and pastries. “But how have you been? How are things in Luxembourg?”
His imperial grace was rather surprised by the sudden hug. Nevertheless, he felt himself relax in her arms and embrace her just as tightly as she did. Perhaps she needed an embrace; some comfort. After all, her life was turned upside down. Melody … she hadn’t changed at all. Once she had pulled away, his long arms found themselves settling behind his back as he followed after her.
"I can … understand."
He couldn’t, really. The idea of losing her father so quickly and then being graced with the crown of queen-hood at such a young age. He could never fathom it. Looking to her, he smiled weakly at her before following her into the sitting room.
"Nothing much, really. I will be leaving for Germany in a few months, but nothing too radical."
He approached the table, seeing the tea and chocolate, and gave a slight smile at the sight. Offering his hand to the young queen, he gave a small bow and assisted her in sitting down.
Dug looked at the horse, who seemed to be a little confused, before looking back at the human.
"My name is Dug. My master made me this collar!"
His tail began to wag just slightly, not coming off the ground.
“Does your large horse have a collar to talk too?”
Dug went closer to the horse, trying to get the scent of the horse. After he was satisfied, he sat down, staring up again at the human.
Theodore stared at this strange dog with a even more worried and confused face. So this odd magical telepathically-speaking dog had an owner? Well, alright, then—where was he? The Duke glanced around, noticing that the commoners of the village below continued on with their day as if nothing was happening.
His horse seemed curious about this canine. Rearing her head down, she gave the golden hound a few innocent sniffs before snorting and returning to her grass to eat. The Duke arched his brow, observing the dog for several long moments. He noticed that every time the creature spoke, a red light would glow on his collar. Was that allowing him to speak? Was it enchanted?
"U-um, no, my horse cannot speak. W-well, not like you and me. I presume that she can ‘speak’ with other horses …"
Kneeling down, he stared at the collar firmly before asking:
"Your collar can allow you a voice?"
As the items were presented to him, the wolf nosed them curiously, taking in the clean scent of the bandages and the sharpness of the wine. Grim would only remember so many times that he had tried the drink, no more fond of it each time he tried it. He wrinkled his snout at the thought but nodded slowly. Well, if it didn’t taste good, at least it had other uses.
Such as cleaning out wounds.
"Thank you," he finally replied once he was quite satisfied that everything that the man had brought was suitable. What else it could have been he didn’t know, but he still had defensive instincts that were still telling him to growl and tend to his wounds himself. Fortunately, he managed to keep that back with the logic he had cultivated over the years. One did not turn down genuine help. Only the proud and the foolhardy did that. While the wolf would admit to his pride he liked to think that he was not a fool. "They should do just fine."
He watched the man curiously as he turned away, wondering what else he could possibly need now. Humans made things so complicated. It was a wonder they got anything done at all. They both spotted the branch at the same time, and Grim shook his head as the man grabbed it. This was hardly the time for a game of fetch. He could hardly walk let alone chase anything, and he was going to say as much until the man explained.
"Biting something will help the pain?" he parroted, head tilting to the side. He supposed it could serve as a distraction of sorts but as an actual cure? That didn’t make any sense, but…well, it was worth trying. "If you say so."
Grim opened his maw and took the branch in it, digging his teeth into the bark as he looked up at the man before him, wondering just how much this was going to sting. “Ready…” he said, though his words were somewhat garbled by the object in his mouth.
He wasn’t sure why biting down onto something firm assisted with pain. Perhaps it was something to serve as a distraction—if one bite down on something they surely wouldn’t think of how much pain they were in. The Grand Duke himself had often chewed on something when he went to the doctor’s to have his usual bloodletting (speaking of doctors, he knew he had to go sometime and was not looking forward to it) or when he was younger he often had to get stitches due to his brothers’ reckless behaviors and he often bit down on something to distract him.
"Get a firm grip on it."
The Duke reached for the bottle of wine at his left. Using a small knife concealed in his coat, he pried out the cork and placed the spherical object to the side. Taking the rag he borrowed, he poured the wine into it. Automatically the cloth became saturated with wine, turning from a dark gray to a dark purple. Folding the napkin over, he had a firm grip on it and searched over the dark, matted fur. There, a large cut trying to heal, puffed out.
Wincing, the Duke looked to the wolf and gave a nod of his head. Carefully, he placed the damp wine-soaked rag onto the wound, and held it there. His gaze turned to watch the wolf’s reaction as he dappled the cloth against the wound.
“Herzog, I’m awfully booooooored. Why is there nothing to do here?”
With Charming gone, the young Prince Phillip found the visit to Luxembourg nothing but the biggest chore in all his eleven years of living. Surprising absolutely no one, Hubert and Charming’s father along exceptionally well. The tantrum-prone kings decided to let the always-restless little prince stay inside the palace as they went on a morning hunt, telling him that he’d be much better off exploring the grounds than he would chasing after game.
Phillip woke up grumpier than ever that he’d been left at home like some child. He was ten times better a hunter than all of them combined, certainly! He wouldn’t let them live their decision down. The trembling Duke Theodore would be the first he was set on bothering. After all, the boy had grown up so very accustomed to seeing the man tormented by both the Luxembourg king and his own father. So, why couldn’t he?
He slumped in his chair so much that he slipped off and landed tummy-flat on the floor, beneath the marvelously ornate table of his room within the palace. With no proper manners, he kicked the floors and groaned into the carpet. No perfect crown prince ought to be kept sitting idle.
This was inhumane.
"Herzog. Hey. Herzog. Herzog. Herzog. Herzog. Herzog. Herzog. Herzog. Herzog. Herzog. Herzog. Herzog. Herzog. Herzog. Herzog—" he gulped in another breath "—Herzog entertain me. Herzog. Herzooooooog."
He was growing rather annoyed with the prince’s presence.
Granted, he knew he was just a boy and the Grand Duke did enjoy children on a whole, this little prince was just grinding on him. The older male with the thick sideburns and long ponytail glared down at the boy rolling along the floor. Knitting his thick eyebrows together, he scowled before speaking:
"Your highness, do get up and behave like a prince.”
Perhaps his words would be meaningless.
Sighing, the Duke turned to his paperwork, curious as to why he was set on babysitting the lad. And, to be honest, he wanted to work not be the playmate of the prince. Granted, perhaps if he wasn’t in such of a sour mood and if the prince behaved, he would surely push away his work and entertain him, and maybe enjoy it himself.
His quill scratched against the parchment on his desk, quickly scrawling out his name. Once finished, he picked up the piece of paper and placed it into a short wooden basket at his right and continued on. Sighing deeply, he looked up to the boy before speaking:
"Well, I am awfully busy to play with you, your highness. As you can see, I have to fill out these."
He gestured to the stack of paper at his left. And with that, the Duke continued on with his work.
"Your lady?” she repeated, clutching her hands together. That was so romantic! “Oh, zat is, zat is wonderful to hear! It must be serious, zen!” she cast her eyes down quickly and smiled to herself.
"I’m happy for you, really." she bit her lip as she ran the question she had for him in her head. It was probably too forward, but… "Are you going to propose to her?"
His eyes slightly widened at her reaction before he gave a small, cheerful smile. Giving a slight nod of his head, he blushed gently before reaching up to rub the back of his head. Yes, it indeed was … . “serious.”
Before he could even speak, she was quicker. Growing silent, he watched her for a moment, silent before his blush thickened. P-propose? It crossed his mind often, and with that he gave a hurried, embarrassed cough before shuffling his feet.
And obvious yes.
He knew that scent now.
"The Lady Gothel seems to have made some powerful friends, has she not?"
Gothel? He knew Gothel? Quickly, his anger was lost and it was replaced with pure and utter confusion.
"H-how did—do you know her?"
The fact that this man knew her was unnerving. He wasn’t sure where he had come from or what business he sought out. Then it hit him—he was on behalf of Corona …
Was he after Gothel? Shifting, he approached the man, glowering down at the man. “I will ask you kindly one last time: leave this palace.”
Gothel tasted the juice, so succulent and sweet, letting the moisture consume her throat, which was sore. She twitched a little as she saw the person approach. She said the words cutting table and it made her nervous. Perhaps if the boy got on the woman’s nerves and didn’t pull the raven away from the board she would be cut up for soup.
She was scooped up into the arms of the boy; Teddy, he had been called. Teddy held her and she twitched again but forced herself to relax.
The little boy nodded, clutching the raven in careful arms as he moved out of the kitchen and past curious maids. His little hand stroked the smooth feathers gently as his other hand still clung to the vine of ripe grapes.
"Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you."
Theodore moved down the hall, keeping his dark eyes on the raven in his arms as he gave gentle, timed strokes. His mother was quick to appear. Giving a sigh, she stepped out from the kitchen, from which she had entered from and approached her oldest son. placing a hand to his shoulder, she smiled down at him.
"Do you want to take him to your room?"
Theodore gave a quick nod of his head. “Oh, yes, please, Mama,” he stated, holding the raven closer to his chest. “I want to take care of it.”
Reaching up, she ran her hand through his black, silky locks and gave a slight smile. “Well, let’s take him to your room right away. Get him a pillow to rest on and allow him to eat his grapes.”
Gothel smirked at Maximilien, chuckling quietly.
"You’re certainly not the most gracious of losers. Not used to it, hm?" she taunted, letting out a laugh. Gothel was a better loser than she was a winner —as a winner, she loved to boast and brag and rub it in other people’s faces.
She glanced over at Theodore as he touched her cheek, her grin softening into a demure smile. Her eyes then darted to look at Florian as he spoke. As she thought about her little fall earlier, she smirked a bit awkwardly.
"Yes, I’m alright. I’m not hurt in the slightest, I think the mud softened my fall." Her pride was hurt a bit but it was patched up when Theodore told her how much he liked the sight of her that way. It certainly gave her something to think about.
Maximilien glowered at her only the tiniest of bits. Seldom had the man ever lost a bet, and what he hated most of all was those who won brag and gloated the entire time. Meta whispered to her husband in French, curious about what Gothel was speaking of. The man replied with a huff and a wave of his hand—of course, Duke was snickering ever so softly.
"Okay, that’s enough of that now."
Theodore reached for his napkin, grinning slightly as he placed it neatly on his lap. Reaching out, he grasped for his wine glass, and took a sip from it.
Zelda and Florian exchanged a glance before the husband spoke: “Just be careful next time, my dear. The last thing we want is for you to get hurt.” When a servant appeared, he gently thanked him as he placed a fresh glass of wine by his master’s hand.
"Are … you not used to wearing our attire?" Zelda asked carefully, staring at Gothel with her old, concerned eyes as she spoke. A few more servants appeared, placing the appetizers before the family.
Of course, a plate of steamed carrots joined Maximilien’s side dish. He gave a slight grimace at the sight of them.
( i will L O V E you )
(If I had a soul? Seven billion dollars.)
(Ex Lover’s Lover.)
(Yes, and yes, I still have it.)
(Oh, goodness, I love them all. I simply can’t pick. .3.)
(My mother loves Asian culture, so it seeped onto me. I eat the food, I have the clothing and paintings. But to answer the question, yes, in a way. I did like anime and it was all I watched up until a certain point. I grew out of it, but I do still enjoy it from time to time.)
(Unfortunately, I don’t often read comic books. I need to, though.)
(I didn’t participate in Halloween much. So, I don’t have a favorite costume.)
(Can’t name one. There are too many.)
(I like accents in general.)
(The Goddess of Laziness.)
(My jeans with my Gothic corset hoodie and my Maleficent tank.)
(All the sniper rifles.)
(Biology and the processes of evolution. GTFO Creationists!)
GRAND DUKE. Um, I like … Beast.)
(What kind of question is this? All cake is good cake.)
(I don’t have one.)
(Beach. I love to find seashells!)
(According to this HDM quiz I did years ago, my daemon would be an ocelot. And a daemon is sorta a spirit animal.)
Me too. That’s why I made a list of some different questions for people to ask. Feel free to reblog this and add you own!
- What do you think you would be the God/Goddess of?
- What is one thing you would sell your soul for?
- If you could only have one outfit for the rest of your life, what would it be?
- What was the last song that got stuck in your head?
- Zombie Apocalypse. What is your weapon of choice?
- Did you have a baby blanket? Do you still have it?
- If you had to become a school teacher, what subject would you teach?
- What is your favorite pokemon?
- Favorite Disney Prince?
- Did you ever go through a weeaboo phase?
- If it was legal to have any animal as a pet, what would you have?
- Do you prefer Marvel or DC?
- What is your favorite kind of cake?
- If you had to move to a foriegn country, where would you move?
- What is your least favorite color?
- What is your favorite Halloween costume you’ve ever worn?
- Beach or Water Park?
- Name a song that you dislike.
- What do you think is your spirit animal?
- What is your favorite accent to listen to?
LMFAO FUCK. FUCK . I LITERALLY SPIT OUT MY DRINK LAUGHING.
HE’LL BE LIKE. “WARUM NICHT. WARUM NICHT. OLD MMAN”
NEIN. NEIN. NEIN.
YOU ARE SUCH A BRAT.
Soon Gothel was finally clean and she was dressed into those awful garments again. She couldn’t understand why these people liked corsets and crinolines, it was too much and too aggravating.
She was ushered into the dining room, where she was to meet Theodore and of course, his family for supper. The thought of Maximilien having to force carrots down his throat like a reluctant child made her actually look forward to it. Entering the room, she smiled at the people there and sat down once she reached the table. Gothel chuckled, glancing up at Maximilien.
"I can’t wait to see your face." she murmured to him, softly grinning. She might have felt uncomfortable about the incident that happened before dinner, but with what Theodore told her about liking it when she was disheveled, she was hardly embarrassed anymore. "I bet you’ll cringe with every bite. Oh, and you do have to eat all of them.”
Theodore had asked the cooks to quickly prepare steamed carrots and place them on another plate for his brother to consume. The Grand Duke of Luxembourg had a smirk upon his features as he was met with fiery disapproval from his brother. But a bet was a bet, even though his brother was not used to being on the receiving end of such a thing, perhaps now he’d calm down with such silly competitions.
Maxmilien gave a huff as Gothel passed him. Taking his seat, he crossed his legs as Theodore reached for her hand and helped her take a seat beside him.
"Yes, I know I do," he muttered, shifting slightly as he pursed his lips.
Theodore gave a little smirk, sitting down next to Gothel as he gives her a warm smile. Reaching out, he touched her cheek before a servant materialized beside him and gives him a glass of wine. Meta sat beside her husband, arching her brow to the trio at her right in curiosity.
From across the table, Florian spoke: “Gothel how are you? That was a nasty fall you took.”