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vocab_drabblesTitle: Islander
Fandom: Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Author:luminious
Rating: T
Word Count: 900 (300 Words per Numeral)
Characters/Pairings: Petra Macneary/Dorothea Arnault (DoroPetra)
Warnings: Descriptions of war casualties, colonization, and oppression of an island nation, for anyone not comfortable with that.
Summary:
Pale and clad with silver gear, strange weapons filled with magic not gifted from spirits or formed from shamanism but instead an unknown—ominous—source, their spells emitting sparks and essences that even amidst their different hues and colors manifest uncomfortably bleak...
Even with all the sharp knives and spears at their disposal and secret traps in case of an attack her country falls, corpses of men and women covered in dried blood almost the same shade as their intricate tribal markings, Petra's father among them, her mother alive but marred.
At the very least, Petra's grandfather survives without harm—
He screams out her name as strange men drag her into their gigantic, treasure-filled ship.
Disclaimer: I do not own Fire Emblem: Three Houses, nor am I or will I ever profit from this work.
I.
THE LANGUAGE OF BRIGID ROLLS off one's tongue swiftly and is direct, but also perceptive—that's why Petra has always seen it as a great representation of her people.
Petra's early childhood is spent climbing the large trees of her island and making sandcastles on the beach shores, some days swimming deep into the ocean with friends and distant relatives her age in order to catch uncommon fish and pet whales, other days inspecting the thick, tanned sand until she's found at least three seashells all unique in color and shape from one another.
Every day begins with Petra hearing recited prayers from other Brigidians who beg the spirits within the archipelago for prosperity, safety, and guidance, every afternoon ends with her hair braided by her father—her stomach full from her mother's cooking—and every night ends with her grandfather reading her stories from his years as a boy decades ago, a goodnight kiss on her cheeks from all three adults, Petra dreaming happily away about what she'll do once she wakes up.
Repetitive and familiar, just as she likes it.
Then, they come.
Pale and clad with silver gear, strange weapons filled with magic not gifted from spirits or formed from shamanism but instead an unknown—ominous—source, their spells emitting sparks and essences that even amidst their different hues and colors manifest uncomfortably bleak...
Even with all the sharp knives and spears at their disposal and secret traps in case of an attack her country falls, corpses of men and women covered in dried blood almost the same shade as their intricate tribal markings, Petra's father among them, her mother alive but marred.
At the very least, Petra's grandfather survives without harm—
He screams out her name as strange men drag her into their gigantic, treasure-filled ship.
II.
If the Brigidian language is quick but observant like a flying kingfisher, the Adrestian language—the Fodlan tongue—is like a stalking eagle, an abstract delayed just enough for one to understand the gist of it, yet identically interpretive to the point where the simple meaning beyond the idioms and rhetoric can take ages to unravel.
It is not surprising to Petra that the people are just as contradictory.
The average Adrestian citizen struggles whether they work in the fields or in brothels or in sanctuaries, and yet despite this a portion of them rather than help instead bring disdain upon the poor and homeless, while the nobles look down upon them both. Elitists mock tired women with ragged clothing before heading off to brothels where similar women await to service them, and the wives of these men are all so eager to sneer at and torment working men for skills they would've learned had they not been fortunate to be born into wealth.
Their children too reflect these duplicitous behaviors, bullying and coercing those less fortunate than them to do their bidding and then wondering why there are constant rebellions, as either just able to afford tuition (or can't at all) watch with as much hatred as they do with envy.
To her luck, the close circle of Petra is not as discordant, from the mature Edelgard to the wise Linhardt and even the devious Hubert and showy Ferdinand.
Even Caspar, whose father took down her own, lacks the cruelty of his parent.
They are not perfect—she has witnessed Linhardt be lectured by Edelgard several times over his laziness and passivity—but they are trying, and to Petra, that is a start.
(That's why the reveal that the Flame Emperor bears white hair and lilac eyes wounds her.)
III.
Brigid is a free, respected nation—how that fact makes Petra, the current ruler of the island, so happy.
She still likes to remember the day she went under her coronation, and how joyful her grandfather, their people, and some of her closest allies from Fodlan were; she ended the event immediately by declaring Brigid's independence from the Adrestia Empire.
Her second usage of power was announcing her engagement to her beloved, something she never once regretted even despite the questioning from onlookers who eventually accepted and celebrated their second queen despite her Fodlan heritage, the children in villages throughout the tropical habitat loving the foreign queen's many songs and tales of growing up in an opera house.
Brigid hasn't been in danger of an invasion or attack in at least half a decade at this point, and those who suffered injuries from the invasion years ago have almost all recovered, Petra's mother no longer being bed-ridden or in need of medicine that would be from as far as Almyra, and Petra's grandfather enjoying his days in retirement fishing by the ocean and teaching nearby villagers tricks he used in his younger years to catch great quality lobsters for feasts.
Emperor Edelgard does not visit often, as there are still negotiations she must attend to with other nations, and sometimes these attempts of peacemaking are so critical and wide that Petra will leave Brigid to attend while the other queen of Brigid watched over the archipelago.
When she returns to her land, after listening and tending to her people, she gives attention to the one she loves the most—
Dorothea.
"I was up all night waiting for you, dear," the brunette admits, playing with Petra's let-down hair.
Petra smiles.
"I as well have waited, Dorothea."
Tenderly, Petra kisses her queen.
Fandom: Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Author:
luminious Rating: T
Word Count: 900 (300 Words per Numeral)
Characters/Pairings: Petra Macneary/Dorothea Arnault (DoroPetra)
Warnings: Descriptions of war casualties, colonization, and oppression of an island nation, for anyone not comfortable with that.
Summary:
Pale and clad with silver gear, strange weapons filled with magic not gifted from spirits or formed from shamanism but instead an unknown—ominous—source, their spells emitting sparks and essences that even amidst their different hues and colors manifest uncomfortably bleak...
Even with all the sharp knives and spears at their disposal and secret traps in case of an attack her country falls, corpses of men and women covered in dried blood almost the same shade as their intricate tribal markings, Petra's father among them, her mother alive but marred.
At the very least, Petra's grandfather survives without harm—
He screams out her name as strange men drag her into their gigantic, treasure-filled ship.
Disclaimer: I do not own Fire Emblem: Three Houses, nor am I or will I ever profit from this work.
I.
THE LANGUAGE OF BRIGID ROLLS off one's tongue swiftly and is direct, but also perceptive—that's why Petra has always seen it as a great representation of her people.
Petra's early childhood is spent climbing the large trees of her island and making sandcastles on the beach shores, some days swimming deep into the ocean with friends and distant relatives her age in order to catch uncommon fish and pet whales, other days inspecting the thick, tanned sand until she's found at least three seashells all unique in color and shape from one another.
Every day begins with Petra hearing recited prayers from other Brigidians who beg the spirits within the archipelago for prosperity, safety, and guidance, every afternoon ends with her hair braided by her father—her stomach full from her mother's cooking—and every night ends with her grandfather reading her stories from his years as a boy decades ago, a goodnight kiss on her cheeks from all three adults, Petra dreaming happily away about what she'll do once she wakes up.
Repetitive and familiar, just as she likes it.
Then, they come.
Pale and clad with silver gear, strange weapons filled with magic not gifted from spirits or formed from shamanism but instead an unknown—ominous—source, their spells emitting sparks and essences that even amidst their different hues and colors manifest uncomfortably bleak...
Even with all the sharp knives and spears at their disposal and secret traps in case of an attack her country falls, corpses of men and women covered in dried blood almost the same shade as their intricate tribal markings, Petra's father among them, her mother alive but marred.
At the very least, Petra's grandfather survives without harm—
He screams out her name as strange men drag her into their gigantic, treasure-filled ship.
II.
If the Brigidian language is quick but observant like a flying kingfisher, the Adrestian language—the Fodlan tongue—is like a stalking eagle, an abstract delayed just enough for one to understand the gist of it, yet identically interpretive to the point where the simple meaning beyond the idioms and rhetoric can take ages to unravel.
It is not surprising to Petra that the people are just as contradictory.
The average Adrestian citizen struggles whether they work in the fields or in brothels or in sanctuaries, and yet despite this a portion of them rather than help instead bring disdain upon the poor and homeless, while the nobles look down upon them both. Elitists mock tired women with ragged clothing before heading off to brothels where similar women await to service them, and the wives of these men are all so eager to sneer at and torment working men for skills they would've learned had they not been fortunate to be born into wealth.
Their children too reflect these duplicitous behaviors, bullying and coercing those less fortunate than them to do their bidding and then wondering why there are constant rebellions, as either just able to afford tuition (or can't at all) watch with as much hatred as they do with envy.
To her luck, the close circle of Petra is not as discordant, from the mature Edelgard to the wise Linhardt and even the devious Hubert and showy Ferdinand.
Even Caspar, whose father took down her own, lacks the cruelty of his parent.
They are not perfect—she has witnessed Linhardt be lectured by Edelgard several times over his laziness and passivity—but they are trying, and to Petra, that is a start.
(That's why the reveal that the Flame Emperor bears white hair and lilac eyes wounds her.)
III.
Brigid is a free, respected nation—how that fact makes Petra, the current ruler of the island, so happy.
She still likes to remember the day she went under her coronation, and how joyful her grandfather, their people, and some of her closest allies from Fodlan were; she ended the event immediately by declaring Brigid's independence from the Adrestia Empire.
Her second usage of power was announcing her engagement to her beloved, something she never once regretted even despite the questioning from onlookers who eventually accepted and celebrated their second queen despite her Fodlan heritage, the children in villages throughout the tropical habitat loving the foreign queen's many songs and tales of growing up in an opera house.
Brigid hasn't been in danger of an invasion or attack in at least half a decade at this point, and those who suffered injuries from the invasion years ago have almost all recovered, Petra's mother no longer being bed-ridden or in need of medicine that would be from as far as Almyra, and Petra's grandfather enjoying his days in retirement fishing by the ocean and teaching nearby villagers tricks he used in his younger years to catch great quality lobsters for feasts.
Emperor Edelgard does not visit often, as there are still negotiations she must attend to with other nations, and sometimes these attempts of peacemaking are so critical and wide that Petra will leave Brigid to attend while the other queen of Brigid watched over the archipelago.
When she returns to her land, after listening and tending to her people, she gives attention to the one she loves the most—
Dorothea.
"I was up all night waiting for you, dear," the brunette admits, playing with Petra's let-down hair.
Petra smiles.
"I as well have waited, Dorothea."
Tenderly, Petra kisses her queen.
[FIN.]
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no subject
Date: 2023-09-02 09:57 pm (UTC)Sorry to bring it up, but I think you meant to say emitting, instead?
Thank you!
Date: 2023-09-03 11:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2023-09-03 02:21 am (UTC)Thank you!
Date: 2023-09-03 11:29 am (UTC)