rongi:
sorry this is really sloppy but CHADDIE THIS IS MY OTP…
girl and tutor!
ill illustration it myself I SWEAR TO GOD LMAO. BUT HERE IS MORE ATTRACTIVE YONGI ARTS AND HERE IS CHAPTER 1.
omg gay there’s no readmore option on picture posts
CHAPTER 1.
Whenever her Tutor speaks of stars, the yonng princess sits rapt in attention. These are the lessons that she finds most interesting.
“And then, the sky turns… blue?”
“No, not just, blue, dear princess but violet as well! And then indigo, and when it is absolutely dark—darker than you can imagine— they are allowed to surface like little glowing gemstones!”
He smiles so earnestly, lost in his thoughts and half-memories, that the princess cannot help but flush (though whether the red was meant for the romance of the lesson, or her fondness of her instructor she did not know— very likely, it was both). He was a pleasant man to look upon with absolutely no noteworthy features, save for his perfectly straight teeth and slightly crooked nose, but his words made him so terribly handsome. She sighs.
“I wish to see them! I proclaim you take me!”
The Tutor shakes his head sadly, tuts and reminds her of the prophecy. She pouts and pushes her spectacles up the bridge of her nose, continues still red-faced. “Well, I am very sorrowful not to see these things you call stars!”
“And, I am very glad you possess such curiosity in the past and in the natural arts,” he tells her, “Curiosity is a very good thing for any intelligent person. However, it is even more important that you are safe, princess. Too much has been given and too little has been taken for it to be otherwise.”
He pulls out of his chair, but says no more. He presses his lips gently on her forehead and takes his leave. The lesson is over.
—-
The princess was 14 years of age, and in those 14 years, she has become acquainted to these three fundamental Truths.
1. There had been a prophecy, and that was why the sun always shone, why there were never stars, and why people were always sent away every year three weeks prior to her birthday.
2. The Tutor was handsome, but she herself wasn’t pretty, for girls that wore glasses were never pretty
And,.
3. Virgil was her dearest friend because he still liked her in spite the round spectacles she wore about little face and in spite being a big-horned sheep with plenty of other things to do than talk to a human child.
“Virgil,” she began, when she met said creature in the corridor. He was looking out through the metal framed windows, each of which contained glass panels heavily tinted with alternating colours—sort of like a rainbow except without violet and indigo. The particular window he was beside was a hue similiar to a half-ripened apple and made his fleece even more deeply golden. “Virgil,” she repeated regaining her thoughts, “Whatever are you looking at!”
“They’re preparing for tomorrow, Princess. I am watching.” His pitch was low and without a single bit of animal accent, save for the sharpness of the Ts and the softness of the Ss. Should a person choose to close their eyes and speak with him, they would not know any difference between his and a human’s voice. Sometimes, the Princess wondered if he had ever once been a person.
“Ah! Right! How could I have possibly forgotten!” She settled her books into her bag and joined the sheep, stepping into the yellow, which consequently washed over the blue of her dress and made it green. “I’ve always wondered where they go… Do you know Virgil?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Will you tell me?”
“I will not.”
“Why?” After thoughtlessly uttering the word, the Princess immediately wished to take it back. She would be answered with another lecture about the prophecy, for that was how absolutely everyone her question. Much to her surprise (and relief) however, Virgil instead turned to her and told her
“Because there is a time and there is a place for everything, Princess. This isn’t one of them. I will tell you when later. I promise.”
“Pinky swear?”
“On my hooves.”
“Well all right, then…!”
—-
The two found themselves transversing the palace afterward when Virgil felt his observations were completely though. Her transluscent skirt swayed to and fro about her knees and the his hooves clicked softly against the polish tiled floors, as they scaled the endless staircases leading to nowhere and everywhere all at once, and through the empty corridors, and finally to the roof of this place where there were a great many star-shaped cactus blooms of all varieties scattered across the roof-shaded ground. They did not speak.They very rarely spoke. Simply, they enjoyed the familiarity of their surroundings, and the silence of company, for there are many things friends can say to one another without even uttering a single word.
Perhaps, when a person becomes friends with another, they take a bit of string from their heart and tie it to their companion’s, and in doing so are able to communicate that way— sort of like the passing electrical pulses along a copper wire.
They engaged in their quiet walking ceremonously after every lesson and before the town’s hour glass clock filled up to the 21st mark. Sometimes they took alternate paths, and ended the walk at the palace gates, and sometimes they would climb into the basement, which served as the castle’s kitchen and make pretty faces to convince the cooks to spoil their suppers—“Just this once.” Always, though, they kept at the same pace— side by side neither leading the other, without fail.
So when she was summoned by her mother’s courier (who was quite breathless, for whatever reason!) and announced that she would come to the lady’s chambers right away (it was only 17th mark!) and without Virgil (just the thought!), she really did not know what to do, nor how to react to this break in consistency.
“Right away?” she parroted, hoping that she had heard wrong, or imagined what was being said. The Princess hadn’t seen her mother in quite a long time, and, in truth, she often found it difficult to perceive the woman as anything beyond the casual mention, or half-hushed whisper.
“Yes,” the messenger stated as politely as she could suffice, “Right away.”
“To my mother’s chambers?”
“Yes.”
“…..
….Now…?”
This time, the messenger’s nose flared, but before she was able let slip her temper and chastise the girl for her rudeness and how difficult finding them was, and just how little she was being paid for such a thankless, horrid job, Virgil coughed and said what needed to be said.
“You mustn’t stall Princess, especially for your mother. Don’t worry now, I will be fine alone.”
She pursed her lips, and then shrugged. “Okay, then… But, tomorrow, we’ll stay out at least a quarter mark longer!”
The Princess took the arm of the messenger and went back inside.
