Genevieve Hansdottir's Story

Loras had never really been one for dancing, and watching his sister and the other Captain waltz together was quite enough for him. He watched them for a moment with a little smile on his lips, and then turned, stepping away to allow them privacy. He soon migrated off to the side, taking up residence near one of the many open windows and just scanning the general area. He didn’t cut the most approachable figure, standing there with his shoulders back and his arms crossed, and so he didn’t quite have to worry about people coming over and approaching him.

As he let his sea-blue eyes flick over the ballroom, taking in the clouds that adorned the ceiling and the dresses that gave vibrant color to the gold floor, his gaze lighted upon a woman with red-gold hair and a yellow dress, gazing out the window. She looked at peace, and a soft little smile came to his lips at the sight of her. She didn’t look particularly rich, probably a lady in waiting or something to be at that dance, normally reserved for people of higher standing. In any case, she had a kindness about her that he hadn’t seen in... a long time. His first thought was his mother, to be honest. She had that sort of soft sweetness about her face. He took a step towards the woman, perhaps to address her or to ask her where she was from, pausing only to avoid interrupting her as she took a deep breath of night air.

He was about to take his chance when suddenly, a familiar blonde stepped into view. His gaze softened at the sight of Juliana, the woman he had wooed so long ago. His heart still ached for her sometimes, and he caught himself gazing after her as if he were some stupid schoolboy. The queen’s voice reached his own ears, but he had no time to focus on it. He saw something flicker in the redhead’s eyes as her eyes opened, before she turned to look at Juliana; something unreadable to all those save for those who were specifically searching for it. It was an instinctive fear, a silent wish that the queen would leave her alone, almost a cry for help that no one would see save for the flowers that waved in the breeze outside and the moon high above.

Loras’ brow furrowed. There was no mistaking what had caused that clear, instinctive want to hide away. Juliana had changed since he had first been stricken by her, but... had she changed enough to warrant such a reaction in the people who served her? He himself had stepped down from his noble place to lead armies, to help his country and defend it. He had gone from someone with a great name to another soldier. Had this woman done the same? What had happened to her to cause such a reaction when the queen appeared?

It felt as if his world had been tipped on its end, suddenly. How blind had he become, in the face of his infatuation? For he knew that it was merely that. He’d left home, friends, sister for a person who terrified her servants?

It was during that revelation that another world-shaking individual would ram straight into his life.



Normally, he would have been able to righten himself when suddenly hit with a blunt object, but he was reeling in that moment. When an arm was offered, he grasped his hand, searching out balance and stability, something to ground himself. And when he looked up, locks of his own dark hair falling in his eyes, he found it in a pair of light emerald eyes filled with awe. He was caught up in that color for a moment, and then he realized that the eyes were attached to a person. The king of Ostwall, apparently. Salt and pepper hair and a beard and arms that reminded Loras that he might need a damn hug or something--

And then he realized that Ulfric’s mouth was moving and that he was still holding his hand. The king moved let his hand fall back to his side, and Loras let go of him quickly and instinctively, taking a deep breath, offering up a crooked smile. His eyes were too bright and a little lost, betraying his relatively young age all too easily. He felt it in that moment, truly. He was... a stupid, infatuated boy who didn’t even know what he was doing.

“No hard feelings? I don't suppose I'd like to be on the bad side of you or your Pa.” Finally, Loras registered Ulfric’s words, and the grin turned wry at the mention of his father.

“None at all.” He promised, and his voice was steadier than he thought it would be. He glanced down towards the ground, taking a deep breath and then looking up towards him with a little smile, though his eyes were still as lost as a sailor in a storm. It still felt as if waves were battering at him, lowering every defense that he had. He offered him his hand once more, half wishing just for that steadying influence once more. “Loras.” He introduced himself, out of habit, leaving out all titles and names. “You’re Ulfric, right?” He questioned, and his chest warmed inexplicably at the smile that the king attempted. “Your Majesty.” He teased a little, though there was no bite behind it, and bowed to him.

He was about to go on when suddenly, a harsh voice and soft cries reached his ears. Focused for a moment, his gaze flicked up. The corners of his mouth tipped down in a frown when he saw an older man gripping the arm of... Ulfric’s young wife. He nodded towards the two, and looked back to Ulfric, his own hand going to the hilt of his sword. “I’ll knock him out if you get her out of here.” He murmured. He needed something to ground him, something similar to his job might be a good idea.

Another metaphorical wave hit him, and it was on a strange instinct that he added; “I’ll be in the garden later tonight, by the elara flowers.” It was a stab in the dark, a desperate need for company and reassurance that caused almost a plea to enter his gaze. His sister would be with her entourage, with her fiance, and he... would be alone.

Goodness, he didn’t want to be alone.

Ellie remained behind the rest of the royals as Cy and Lucas stepped out, keeping her head down. Juliana’s voice scraped against her nerves, putting her on edge. Little did she know of the world changing thoughts that she had caused to come into the Captain of the Guard’s mind. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the tall blonde who was holding tight to the king of Ostwall’s arm at the moment, and she worried for a moment about him before Cyprian caught her eye for a bare moment. The tiniest of smiles came to her lips, silently wishing him well. It was a great relief to her that he didn’t look absolutely haggard after that conversation. He didn’t look worn out, he looked... almost vibrant. She wished to take his hands, to ask him all about what had happened, but knew she shouldn’t, knew she couldn’t. One of those days. One of those days, she would be free to take his hands whenever she wanted... She hoped.

Her heart still squeezed at the words my love directed towards Juliana, though. She had no doubt in her Cy, but... It still hurt, sometimes, often, the knowledge that she was the other woman. She’d never envisioned this for herself, not in all her life, but... Cy was worth it, she knew. That much was a fact of her life. She’d walk over hot coals for him, and she could say that about few others, if any.

One of those may have been the tiny girl, Giselle. Cy’s daughter. There was something horribly, completely endearing about her, and Ellie had fond memories of telling her stories and singing her to sleep. Her gaze flicked momentarily to her as the child went to greet her uncle for... possibly the first time in her whole life. She couldn’t help but smile, finding the sight utterly endearing. She’d braid the flower into her hair later, she resolved, maybe after she’d twirled her around the dance floor a couple of times while waiting for Cy. She soon looked down, respectfully, avoiding looking King Lucas straight in the eyes.

Then, the queen’s words reached her ears, and where Ellie’s heart had squeezed before, it stopped now. Take Giselle to bed...? With the flick of her wrist and a sickeningly sweet look in those green eyes, her mistress had dismissed all of them save for Cy. How dare she? She swallowed hard, rather than protesting. It wasn’t her place, she couldn’t raise suspicion... She let her gaze flick to Cy for a moment. She’d meet up with him later. They always found time. It just... was another roadblock. That was all it was. A silent assurance was in her eyes, a promise that it was alright.

“Yes, mistress.” She whispered, at last, and curtseyed in response before reaching out, finding Giselle’s hand and offering her a smile and then a wink. Maybe they didn’t have to go to bed just yet. “Come along, highness.” She spoke to her. With a slight glance back, she led Giselle off--and more towards the banquet tables. “I think it’s a little early for bedtime, don’t you?” She teased gently, squeezing her little hand with gentle fingers.

Then, everything went to hell.

There was screaming and shouting and people were punching and swearing--Ellie’s eyes widened and she wrapped her arms around Giselle suddenly, gathering her close and protecting her with her arms. She crouched down a little, pressing one hand to her ear and defending her from having to hear the words that were being spat. It was the rulers of Ostwall, she realized, now spattered with blood and staining the dance floor. Gold turned to red, and Ellie held her breath, focused on keeping the little princess out of the range of flying fists.

Then, she heard a heartbreaking scream, and the queen of Ostwall flew from the room. Ellie was lucky her heart was strong, for it had gone through so much in even the past ten minutes, which was to say nothing of every other part of her life. It took but another moment for Ellie to look back down at Giselle, checking over her to make sure she was alright. “Let’s grab a pastry for you and go help her.” She said gently, finding her hand again. Gently, she reached out, finding the flower that Lucas had given the little princess and tucking it behind Giselle’s ear instead. “We’ll dance as soon as we can, I promise.” She added with a little smile. Then, she found a fluffy treat for her, hesitated, and found another, just in case Genevieve needed something sweet. She led her from the dance floor, out the door that Genevieve had fled from. “Your majesty?” She called out, keeping Giselle near, just in case. “I’m Ellie, and this is Giselle... Are you alright? Were you hurt?” Worry was clear in her voice. No one should have to witness that, much less experience that, and she hoped that they could be some sort of comfort to the young queen.

Genevieve had managed to shove herself under a table in fear, cowering like a child as she clamped her hands over her head, weeping as quiet as she could manage, trembling violently. Ronan would hate her for this. She had ruined everything and she would lose the love of her life for it. A thud came from the table, flinching and hitting her head on it at the sound of voices. Her eyes widened as she scrambled back, trying to disappear entirely. Maybe once everything had died down she could slip away to her room. Though the sound of her injuring herself only seemed to lure them closer.

Ellie squeezed Giselle’s hand gently before releasing it as she moved slowly towards the source of the crying, wincing at the thud that echoed off the walls. Her first thought was the potential of a concussion, but perhaps that was the all around worry speaking. “Please, mistress.” She pled softly, not wanting to scare her off with a too-loud voice. “Is there any way we can help?” Would going away be the best course of action? But Ellie was unlikely to flee the scene right then.

“I-I’m f-f-fine.” The queen managed to hiccup, voice hoarse and shaky as she hugged her knees close, heart beating so hard she thought it might burst. This couldn’t be good for the baby, she vaguely thought, hands shakily tracing over the bump where her heir sat. “P-Please your mistress probably needs you.” She tried her hardest to be commanding, but she just couldn’t.
Fine was a relative term, and this woman was certainly not fine. Wasn’t she pregnant as well? That had been one of the many topics of conversation during the dance... She caught a bit of motion under the table, and knelt down a little distance away, able to see her but not moving too close to her. “She sent me off already, actually.” She offered up a soft little smile. “Wanted to dance with Cy--her husband, the king.” Her nickname for him came out automatically, and she added his titles quickly afterwards.

Genevieve peered at her, normally calm, cat-like blue eyes full of fear as her hands tightened in her dress, trying to calm her nerves. “I didn’t mean to ruin it all..” She gasped, scrubbing her eyes, pristine cheeks turned splotchy and red.

“You didn’t ruin anything.” Ellie promised, clasping her hands together and resting them on her skirt. If anything, that horrible man had done it all. Everyone else was merely reacting. “I promise. The night was drawing to a close anyway, and you... No one deserves anything like that.” She told her, her voice gentle. “Nothing’s ruined at all.” That much, she knew. There might be some gossip, but there were far more interesting things that people would have their minds on the next day.

Her heart slowed a bit at her words, calming the barest bit as she swallowed the lump in her throat. Ever so slowly, she shifted, crawling out on her hands and knees, looking down the hall to make sure no one was around. “Thank you..” She mumbled softly, sitting before her now and giving Giselle a weak smile.

Ellie smiled at her as she emerged, glancing back just in case. “No one followed us,” She added gently. “In case... you wanted to be alone.” Well, she was kind of removing the alone part, but it was for a good purpose. “Are you alright, mistress?” She asked, scanning over her just in case. The young queen had been all too close to the action. “Physically, I mean.” She added softly. Emotionally, the woman looked a little like she needed a hug.

She gave a nod, despite aching in three different places now, hiding her bruised wrist as she turned his gaze downward. “I’m alright.” Genevieve murmured almost silently, one hand going to her mouth as she gnawed her thumb nail uneasily. She just wanted Ronan… She had behaved all night and she still didn’t get it.

Ellie caught her words for the most part, despite the slight distance between them still. She shifted a little, as if to move towards her, though she hesitated after a moment. “Might I?” She asked, not wanting to scare her off.

Genevieve peeked up at her, curls falling from her face as she nodded a little, shifting so she wasn’t so curled in on herself, clearing her throat a bit.

Ellie shifted up on her knees, moving towards the queen carefully, still a little wary of going too suddenly. She settled beside her, reaching out to wrap her up in her arms, drawing her into a gentle hug.

The queen gave a gentle gasp in reply, mind briefly taken from her fears as she hugged her back, hiding in her neck as her shoulders shook with her gentle cries.

Ellie held her a little closer, rubbing her back with gentle fingers and whispering reassurances to her. She was alright, she would be alright... It broke her heart to see the queen like this, and she wanted little more than to be a comfort to her in that moment.

Genevieve didn’t know how long passed before her tears finally subsided, pulling away and wiping her eyes one last time as she thanked her quietly, running a hand gently over Ellie’s long locks with a soft smile.

“It’s my pleasure, ma’am.” Ellie promised her with a smile in return, reaching out a little to find her free hand, squeezing it gently. She hesitated for a moment, and then spoke once more; “Can I ask your name?” She knew her mostly as the queen of Ostwall.

“Genevieve.” She answered gently, “Thank you Ellie..” She murmured again, smiling the best she could at their joined hands. “I’ll be alright.” She promised. A little bit better at least… She still worried about what Ronan would think of her.

“Genevieve?” Ellie repeated, just to make sure that she got it right. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She said genuinely, smiling at her repeated thank you. “Anytime. Really,” She assured her. She was happy to help. “Could I walk you back to your quarters?” She asked.

She nodded almost too emphatically at that, slowly standing on her wobbly legs, grabbing the table for support and squeezing Ellie’s hand to assure her she was alright.

Ellie stood up a little quicker, wrapping her free arm around her waist to help support her. “I’d offer to carry you, but I think I might drop you,” She teased a little, giving her a half hug. She shifted a little, taking at least some of Genevieve’s weight onto her as she found Giselle’s hand and moved towards the door.

Genevieve giggled a bit, smiling and leaning on her shoulder a bit, one hand brushing over her abdomen as she glanced down at it uneasily. Would he really be upset with her? Maybe… she was imagining things. But her father always got upset when she did things like this, why wouldn’t Ronan too? Or even worse, how would Ulfric react?

Ellie frowned a little at her actions, shifting to gather her a little closer. “What is it?” She asked softly, looking to her before taking any more steps forward.

The brunette lifted her gaze, vaguely confused as she shook her head. “Nothing.” She promised quietly, squeezing her hand and smiling a little, remaining quiet as they neared her room, hoping that Ulfric wasn’t there already.

Ellie paused before the door, wrapping Genevieve up in a tight hug. “If you find you can’t sleep, my room’s upstairs and to the right, the second door.” She told her, pressing a brief kiss to the top of her head. “If there’s any way I can help, let me know.” She requested, pulling back a little and putting her hands on her shoulders, offering her a smile. “It really was wonderful meeting you.”

Genevieve smiled and nodded, hugging her near and resting her chin on her shoulder as she whispered her thanks one last time before departing inside, thankfully alone. She sighed, dropping heavily onto the bed as she scrubbed her eyes and stripped herself down before crying herself to sleep.