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>When posting prompts, always remember to add kinks you're both looking for and wanting to avoid in a potential fill.
>When filling, please remember to add your story tags: characters, relationship types, kinks, series and universe (ie: skyrim)
>Our character limit here at LJ is 4300.
>If you have any other questions about posting, visit the HOW TO KINK MEME THREAD, under the Page Summary on your left.
Smother 2/?
Date: 2014-01-20 05:44 pm (UTC)She was radiant throughout the ceremony; every bit the glowing, virginal bride. She recited her vows perfectly and her voice didn't shake. Amielle felt proud of her older sister and - to her surprise - felt a lump in her throat when the end of the ceremony came.
Now Lucina sat at the head of the table with her new husband, holding his hand and laughing at some joke he made.
Amielle caught her eye and the two of them shared a smile. Then she glanced across the table where their parents sat. Their mother was becoming more openly emotional with each goblet of wine but Amielle noticed that their father was sitting rather stiffly in his chair. Suddenly, he stood and Amielle's stomach flipped. This was it. At last.
A silence descend in the hall, everyone respecting the Count greatly. He cleared his throat.
"I will keep these words brief for I know we are all enjoying these celebrations enormously." A few cries of 'hear, hear!' rang out. Amielle chuckled, her spirits soaring. She glanced at her sister and thought about how fantastic this day was for both of them. Both of them were securing their future on the same day. She couldn't wait to celebrate with her, for them to laugh together and talk about how lucky they were that their lives had worked out so well.
Her father continued. "I am not a young man anymore, though I am not quite old enough to forget to lay the way for the next generation. My children are not only the source of great pride but they are also the future of Cheydinhal." Amielle held her breath in anticipation. "My greatest wish is that this family will live on in the halls of Cheydinhal long after I am gone." He turned slowly, his eyes stopping on Amielle...then continuing on to Lucina and her husband. "That is why this morning I signed documents that - upon my passing, whenever that may be - declare Lucina and Varien to be my rightful heirs! And then their children after that!"
The room erupted into cheers. And suddenly Amielle was too conscious of everything. Of her face burning with humiliation and disbelief. Of her breathing that seemed far too slow. Of her uncles' shocked stare, fixed upon her. Of her father leaning over the table, shaking Lucina's husband's hand and saying, "Welcome to the family, Varien."
Amielle felt her eyes stinging. Her nose was starting to wrinkle and her bottom lip was twitching. The applause was too loud for her ears and she winced and jerked her head, trying to shake off the sound. She looked down at her hands. They were white and clinging to each other in fear, afraid of what they would do if they let go. Then she saw her father sitting down again opposite her. His pale eyes stared right at her and she knew exactly what he was telling her to do.
Do not make a scene.
Her love for her sister was the only thing that kept Amielle in her seat.
And just like that, the celebration carried on.
Noblemen laughed at each other and filled their mouths with grapes, cheeses, bread, wine. Their wives primped their hair and eyed each other over their goblets. Lucina radiated happiness as their mother stroked her face and smiled. Lucina linked her arm through her husband's and rested her head on his shoulder while he talked with his uncle.
Amielle sat silent and still in her seat, her limbs like stone.
'If I screamed now...' she thought, a maddening calm gripping her brain. '...would anyone hear me?'
If they did, she knew they would wave if off as a hysterical episode and send her to bed with a sleeping draught.
They'd all shake their heads and say that she was cruel woman, to be jealous of her sister's happiness on her wedding day. They'd talk about her in the town. Word would spread and people would look at her with such disgusted pity.