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twinkleallnight · 1 year

Text

Loving a Polyglot

Book: TRR AU

Characters: Rashad x Kiara,

Word count: ~2018

Disclaimer: All characters belong to pixelberry.

Rating: Mature

Warning: Fluff

Prompt:

Day 2: polyglot for @kiaratheronappreciationweek

Language day 25 for @choices-february2023

Prompt 3 of week 21 by @choicesflashfics in bold

On a sunny spring morning, a little Robin redbreast bird came fluttering the wings, setting it‘s tiny claws on the window sill. It tilted it’s head to one side and then the other wondering what lied beneath the floral quilts. It tweeted softly calling out, if anyone was around. When nothing happened, it crooned loudly until the quilts moved. Excited to get a response it flew around the room in two circles chirping in a high pitch before it trailed away into the trees outside.

The quilt was now lying in double, the owner sitting upright, confused by nature’s morning alarm. Her black hair was all tousled around her head, while a few fell on her face. She released her breath in a puff, sending a strand of hair up her brow, only to land back on her lips.

Her phone played the ringtone she had set for a special someone. She plunged to the side table and lay on her tummy to receive the call.

“Hey…”

“Bonjour, Ma belle!” Rashad said in his sultry voice.

“Ahaan?” Kiara raised a brow listening to words of endearment in French. “Bonjour mon beau!”

“You are awake. Mon Amour.” He made a statement rather than asking her.

“Hmmm. Your spying little bird just woke me up with its noisy whistles.”

“Je suis vraiment désolé! But I am jealous of that bird. He gets to see you early in the morning.”

Kiara snorted at his attempt to sprinkle French words in his dialogues. She flipped on her back, holding the phone in one hand and combing her fingers through her tangles with the other hand. “Exactly how many French words did you learn last night?”

“I am afraid I may have only one or two left…Ma chérie.”

She started laughing and he joined in. He felt helpless when it came to matching her linguistic skills.

“Is there something special today?” She asked, although she knew.

“My workaholic girl, it’s Valentine’s day.”

“And what’s in your mind?”

“You will see, mon Amour. See you later at the council hall. “

“See ya.” She smiled and was about to hang up when he called again.

“Kiara?”

“Oui?”

“Je t‘aime”(I love you.) He played his last french card.

Kiara giggled “Moi aussi.” (Me too.) She replied.

*****************

She entered her work space in the council hall complex to grab her documents before heading to the meeting. Mr Thomas trailed behind her but stopped at the door. “A little note was delivered from Lord Rashad ‘s office a few minutes ago. I have placed it on your table.” He informed her.

“Thank you Mr Thomas. I will have a look.”

She saw a simple white envelope and opened it to check the contents. A letter.

She sat down for a few minutes to read it...

Meine liebe Kiara,

Ich kann nicht aufhören, an dich zu denken. Du gibst meinem Leben einen Sinn. Mit dir wird niemals langweilig. Ich will mit Dir Zeit verbringen. Willst du mit mir ausgehen?

Dein Rashad.

(My dear Kiara,

I can‘t stop thinking about you. You give meaning to my life. With you it’s never boring

I would like to spend time with you. Will You Go Out With Me?

Your Rashad.)

“Impressive Rashad! A letter in German! “ She said to herself aloud and grinned. She picked up her phone and texted. “Ja, Ja, ich würde gerne mit dir ausgehen.” (I would love to go out with you.)

Suddenly she looked at the time on the display screen and cursed herself. “ You fool! You are going to be late for the meeting. Wake up Kiara!”

She grabbed her documents, slipped the note in her purse and rushed out to the conference hall.

When she entered the hall, her eyes first fell on Rashad as he had occupied the seat next to her allocated seat. He was beaming at her. She quietly sat next to him, trying to ignore the blush his gaze was causing. He leaned sideways to whisper German words in her ear, “Ich liebe dich.” (I love you.)

Kiara’s cheeks reddened beyond her control. She leaned back at him and softly spoke, “Ich Auch.” (Me too.)

"You are blushing."

“You know I don’t have the self control for that.”

The speaker’s voice over the loudspeakers caught their attention and they soon got busy in what they did the best – discuss and debate plans for Cordonia.

Rashad watched Kiara place her points with confidence and poise. Her words were balanced, judged and well thought of before she spoke. He was in awe of her knowledge and conduct. She was an altogether different person when at work- focused, accomplished and unstoppable.

When the meeting annulled after two hours, Rashad slipped another envelope, a yellow one, in her hand. She gave him a questioning look. “Something to read over lunch. I will be off to the Capitol for a meeting at noon.” He smiled and walked away.

A soft smile played on her lips as she secured the envelope in her purse and got back to work.

After a few hours she settled down for a quiet lunch alone in her office. The first thing that came to her mind was the letter. She opened her purse to retrieve the second envelope, which she had tucked neatly in one of the pockets.

She opened the letter and started reading. “Elsku Kiara mín,”

She rolled her eyes and squealed, "Seriously, Rashad? Icelandic?” She started reading with some effort.

Ég verð brjálaður þegar ég horfi í fallegu brúnu augun þín. Bros þitt færir birtu til míns dags. Hönd þín í hendi minni gefur mér kraft til að vinna bardaga mína.. Ég er blessaður að hafa þig í lífi mínu. Vertu með mér að eilífu.

Rashad þinn.

She read in broken words and felt frustrated. She was just picking up the language. There were a few words she couldn’t decipher. She could comprehend his affection through it but she needed a proper translation. She opened the translator on her laptop and quickly typed his words. She let out a sigh of relief to finally be able to understand the letter completely.

“My dear Kiara,

I go crazy when I look into your beautiful brown eyes. Your smile brings brightness to my day. Your hand in my hand gives me power to win my battles.. I am blessed to have you in my life. Stay with me forever.

Your Rashad.”

She grabbed her phone to send him a quick text, “ Icelandic?”

“Ég elska þig.” (I love you.) Came the reply.

“Ég lika.” (Me too.) She messaged back.

She felt delighted and gave herself a little dance around her table. Mr. Thomas knocked at her door to bring her out of the reverie. She straightened her skirt and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Come in.”

He brought with him a number of files and Kiara once again poured herself into her work.

Evening brought a fresh Breeze with it. Kiara dressed up in a maroon one piece that accentuated her figure at just the right places. She let her hair loose, the straight black tresses cascading down her back, just above her waist.

She reached the venue, a new Korean restaurant, Rashad had messaged her about. He was waiting near the main door. Her eyes roamed over his steel gray suit. His hands were tucked inside the pockets of the trousers as he stood there casually looking around. His soft black hair covered his temples in a style. She loved to move her fingers through his wavy hair.

As she approached him, he stretched out a hand and she slipped her hand in it. He pulled her into a hug. His hand curled around her waist, flushing her body to his. She melted in his arms as he left a kiss on her cheek.

They parted and she looked up into his black orbs that shone brightly in the night lights. “Thank you for those lovely notes.”

He brought his thick finger to her lips, “Shh, Wait until it’s over.”

Kiara tilted her head and raised a brow in amazement.

They exchanged a smile as he ushered her in. He let his left hand graze on her waist as he walked her till their table. He let her slide on the sofa chair and instead of sitting across the table he slipped in next to her.

“The day is full of surprises.” She commented.

He curled his fingers in hers and lifted her hand to his lips. “I can’t agree more.” And he kissed the back of her hand.

They were sipping on their drinks when Rashad pulled out another envelope from his breast pocket. It was much smaller than the previous ones and pink in colour. He passed it to her.

Kiara was by now thrilled at all the efforts he had put in planning the day. She excitedly ripped open the letter only to find illegible scriptures. She noticed that it was a repetition of a pattern of letters that looked Asian. And collectively formed the English letters I. L. U

사랑해요 사랑해요. 사랑해요 사랑해요

사랑해요. 사랑해요. 사랑해요. 사랑해요

사랑해요. 사랑해요 사랑해요. 사랑해요

“Oh Rashad I know what this means but I can’t decipher this script.”

“The clue is where you are sitting.”

“It’s Korean??”

“Saranghaeyo”. Rashad nuzzled in her hair. She knew that term from a few Korean dramas she had watched. (I love you)

She placed a hand on his cheek to repeat , “Saranghaeyo.”

Soon, the dinner was served and both of them enjoyed a calm relaxing evening. They planned to walk down to Kiara’s suite in the Capitol. It was maintained for her stay and work with the council.

On her way Kiara asked him, “What brought this idea to your mind? Those notes you sent to me?”

He shrugged his shoulders and tightened his grip on her hand as they strolled. “I wanted to send you one note in each language for every hour of the day. But I could only learn so much in the past few days.” He chuckled.

“French n German I understand, but why choose Icelandic? You know I am still a beginner in that. And Korean? I don’t know it all.”

“Icelandic was just to challenge you. Were you able to comprehend?”

She looked at him sheepishly. “I took help from the translator.”

Rashad’s head fell back in laughter. She pouted her lips but then pulled him back, “Why Korean?”

“Maybe we can learn it together?”

“Oh!” She pondered for a moment before saying, “I thought you may write something in your mother’s native language.”

“Urdu?”

She nodded. “I have heard so much about your origins, I would love to learn Urdu from you.”

He pulled her by her shoulders, facing him. “You know, you never stop amazing me.” They hugged and a placed a kiss on her forehead, before they started walking again..

After sometime, they reached Kiara’s suite in the Capitol. Rashad kissed her goodbye and started walking away.

He had literally poured out his heart to her today. And she had reciprocated with affirmation. Yet he felt something was missing. She never initiated it. She only replied. He was overthinking. His mind wavered into these thoughts the moment he turned his back to her, to walk away. He had taken few steps when he heard her.

“Rashad?”

He turned to look at her.

She looked nervous for a moment before she spoke.

“Lateefon ke Sheher me

Khushi ka sabab mila,

Ye dil shukraguzar hai ke

Hume tere jaisa humsafar mila.”

(In the city of jokes

I got a reason to be happy.

This heart is grateful

I found a companion like you)

Rashad stood standstill blinking his eyes. She hadn’t expressed herself, he had thought and now she did it in the most unexpected way. She said through poetry in Urdu.

When Rashad did not move, Kiara nervously called again, “Rashad?”

As if he woke up from a slumber he called with a thrill, “Kiara!”

The next moment he ran to her, scooped her in his arms and twirled her around. They snickered and laughed together. She brought down her forehead to his and they stole a moment for themselves after a busy day.

Tags: @3pawandme @alj4890 @angelasscribbles @bascmve01 @bebepac @busywoman @choicesficwriterscreations @dcbbw @gkittylove99 @harleybeaumont @iaminlovewithtrr @karahalloway @kingliam2019 @lizzybeth1986 @lovingchoices14 @nestledonthaveone @neotericthemis @mom2000aggie @phoenixrising0308 @princess-geek @riseandshinelittleblossom @sazanes @secretaryunpaid @sfb123 @sillydg @tessa-liam @tinkie1973 @txemrn @walkerdrakewalker @yourmajesty09

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sazanes · 1 year

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Day 2 - Polyglot

Kiara is fluent in ten languages, so her playlist is the most eclectic of all the Cordonia ladies 💃🏾🎵

Based on @lizzybeth1986 headcanons 🥰

@kiaratheronappreciationweek @lizzybeth1986 @sazanes

#kiaratheronappreciationweek #KTAW Day 2 #KTAW #kiara theron #playchoices #the royal romance #myart #fanart #digital art

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lizzybeth1986 · 1 year

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Wordlessly

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: None. Kiara & OC (Céleste, her cousin).

Rating: G

Summary: There is a lot on little Kiara's mind as she goes biking with her cousin Céleste. Can Céleste help her?

Word Count: 3, 191 words

Tagging @kiaratheronappreciationweek for Day 4: Family, @choicesficwriterscreations for FotW, and @choicesmonthlychallenge for the prompt Warm Hugs

A/N: This fic takes place two months after Queen Eleanor's death. Joëlle and Kiara (7 years old) are in Orleans, Loire with Joëlle's sister Jeanette. Jeanette has an older daughter, Céleste (9) and twins Céline and Cédric (6). Kiara is closer to Céleste, Ezekiel is closer to Céline, and Cédric is actually quite close to both siblings and to their cousins in Morocco (Hakim's side of the family). This fic also has a lot of connections to Ch 3 of Eleanor's Kitchen, which shows Joëlle and Queen Eleanor as best friends.

It will be a fine summer morning at the main square of Place du Martroi, Kiara's cousin promises her. Just the perfect time, and weather, to gear up for an hour-long bike ride. Maman can spend some time alone with Tatie Jeanette, and seek some of her much-needed solace at the cathedral nearby. And they can spend fifteen minutes cycling around Kiara's favourite thing to see in Orléans: the Jeanne d'Arc statue.

The Maid of Orléans sits mounted on her horse, sword in hand, proud and determined. Her bronze frame, stained a rusty blue-green from centuries of heat and dust and oxidisation, is cast into an alluring interplay of light and shadow against the morning sun. Joan of Arc, a heroine of France, the woman her aunt Jeanette was named in honor of. Kiara remembers a similar statue - of Captain Guard Val Greaves - at the Capitol square...not too far from the royal palace...

...Kiara instantly loses her smile. Then she shakes her head and tries to concentrate on something else.

"Cette statue gravement endommagée au cours de la duexieme guerre mondiale a eté restaurée en 1950 grâce a la générosité des habitants de la Nouvelle Orléans." She reads the plaque at the foot of the statue slowly, mentally substituting some of the all-too-familiar words into another language, as she always does. It's not easy - some of them are too big for her...like "inhabitants" and "generosity"...but she thinks she can understand the essence of it.

There was a Second World War, the war ruined the statue, and people from New Orleans helped make it look better than before. She knows already - from a map of the United States of America in her father's study desk - that New Orleans is a city there, near the Mississippi river. Baba told her lots of people speak French there too, but a different kind of French.

She tries to remember the bigger words she read on the plaque, but already they're slipping from her memory. Zeke would laugh and call this an exercise in futility, if he were here instead of at Orphys with Baba, Céline, Cédric and Tonton Henri - after all, weren't you raised on both French and English, Kiki? Haven't you been doing this your whole life? It can't be that challenging for you anymore.

But Kiara no longer deals with languages for just the challenge. Now she does it for the sheer joy of playing around with words that mean similar things in different places.

Céleste brushes away a stray leaf that has landed on her head, covering one of her tightly-coiled, intricately-braided cornrows. For perhaps the fiftieth time, Kiara admires the back of her cousin's head, where the braids form the shape of a heart near the nape of her neck. Silently she makes a promise to ask Maman to try it out once on her. When Maman feels more herself again.

Kiara traces a nervous finger over her own braids. They're perfect now - tiny coiled cornrows on her scalp, thicker braids raised high by hairbands that looked like a cluster of grapes, a side parting that took Kiara time to get used to but that she cannot help but admire now. But oh, how much Maman must have suffered today to get it right.

One slip of her hand. Then two. A braid hanging looser than usual, a thin cornrow looking slightly thicker and uneven, a stray curly strand winding out of an arrangement so meticulously planned and designed. It was so unlike Maman, who could do more intricate styles than this blindfolded and with her arms behind her back. The unfamiliar, puzzled frown between Maman's eyes was now threatening to become permanent.

By the sixth mistake she let out a rough growl, fisted her hands and paced agitated to the other end of the room, leaving an entire section of Kiara's hair half-done. When Kiara turned to look, Maman's back was facing her but her shoulders were shaking.

Tatie Jeanette, who had just completed her final touches on Céleste's cornrows, moved over to Maman, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Take a few minutes off, Joli," she said gently, "Renée has made some chamomile-spiced apple tea. That's your favourite now, right? It's in the kitchen. Still hot. It should calm your nerves. Go."

Kiara froze, wondering if her aunt had made a mistake by mentioning the tea was apple-flavoured. The last time Maman had such a drink was the last time she was with...with...

She winced. A very vague image of the late Queen as Kiara remembered her - raven-haired, gentle, smiling, a faint rose smell emanating from her wherever she went - floated at the fringes of her memory. She was grateful she didn't have a memory of what that face looked like in death. It was already painful, watching her funeral procession from a distance that day, Princes Leo and Liam walking behind her coffin, heads bent, steps measured. The older prince's jaw was tight and his eyes reddened and blazing...but the image that would forever stay with her, was the blankness on the face of the boy she often called her playmate. Every time she thought about his dark, unfocused gaze, an odd chill slithered through her spine.

If this was how she felt about that funeral, she can't imagine just how painful it must have been for Maman. Biding her goodbyes at the coffin, her voice at the Mass trembling midway through the late Queen's favourite hymn. After the adults from the Great Houses poured earth from their hands towards the lowered coffin at burial, Baba tightened his hands around Maman's shoulder, her sobs muffled in his jacket.

"It's going to take a while for Maman to go back to being Maman again," he'd whispered in Kiara's hair just before their flight to France, "But she'll get there. I promise you."

She'd felt less nervous when Baba said that. It was now two weeks since that flight, but on more days than not, Kiara didn't feel so sure.

When Maman took longer than usual to return, it was Céleste who saw the look on her face and convinced her to check on her in the kitchen.

"But what do I say?" Kiara whispered worriedly. These days everything she'd tried to say to comfort her seemed to have the opposite effect. Oh, Maman was very lovely about it, running an affectionate hand through her hair and smiling down at her, but the smile never seemed to reach her eyes like it always did.

Céleste shrugged. "Who said you had to say anything?"

Easy for Céleste to say. Everybody always said her oldest cousin gave the best hugs in the family. Soft, light ones for the kids younger than them, tentative ones for adults she didn't know, the tightest ones reserved for her parents. Kiara on the other hand always felt her body too awkward for good hugs. All knees and elbows poking at softer flesh. She felt uncomfortable giving them, and the leaving of an embrace always felt so odd on both sides. It was why she was so fond of talking her way through comforting people.

Only, this was a time where that kind of comfort didn't seem to change anything.

Thankfully, Maman's shoulders were no longer shaking when Kiara's feet padded their way to the kitchen. Her arms were gripping the counter, shoulders slumped, tired. The teacup was still full, all the steam in it long gone.

Kiara gulped. "It's okay, Maman," she said softly, "we don't have to go out today. It's always nice to have one whole day to just rest and do nothing, no, Maman?"

Again that look. Again that soft hand on her head. Again that smile that didn't reach Maman's eyes.

Kiara had struggled through 5 languages so far in her young life. Each time she failed to get things right, her chest felt tight and her shoulders heavy. But all that suddenly felt like nothing to the failure she experienced now.

Maman did Kiara's braids. Perfectly, meticulously, not a single strand out of place. But Kiara felt none of the victory they always experienced when Maman nailed a hairdo. In place of the joy and anticipation they both always had while braiding her hair, was a steely determination, a mechanical sequence of movement. As if Maman was thinking of something else and wanted not to, really badly.

"T'es prête?" Céleste says, her foot on the pedal of her cycle, waiting for her cousin to join her on their hour-long ride to Parc Floral de la Source. It's not where Céleste would have liked to take her, but it's still a beautiful place and she's sure her cousin would love the butterflies there.

"Yeah," Kiara says softly, "I'm ready." She runs back to her own cycle, bought two years ago the moment she'd seen Céleste on a bicycle, so connected to the act of riding it that the vehicle almost seemed like an extension of her. This beauty, bought by her aunt, is black and silver and deceptively fragile-looking, but very sturdy. Just like herself, Kiara would like to believe.

The sun is kind to them today. Its light streams silently through the trees and glistens over the Loire river, so it turns molten gold from the limpid blue of the early morning. The Loire à Vèlo path is a sandy white expanse of road, empty except for the few cyclists dotting the horizon.

Kiara presses her feet to the pedals as hard as she can, the light breeze turning into a sharp burst of wind when she picks up speed. The spaces in her scalp feel the cool kiss of fresh air as she struggles to catch up with Céleste.

She envies her older cousin for her speed and ability on a bike, but not too much. They all have their passions, after all. Céleste never had the knack for languages that Kiara did, or the love for animals that Zeke did, or even the raw artistry that her baby sister Céline was already beginning to show at age 6 - but by God did she work her magic if you gave her a bicycle!

It was the first birthday present she'd ever asked her parents for, and there was never a day you'd see her without it. Already the family was in awe of how she managed to cycle the entire Loire à Vèlo route last year, at the tender age of 8.

Already she had her answer ready for every school exam paper that had the question: "Qu'est-ce que tu veux faire quand tu seras grande ?". When I grow older, I will be tête de la course at Le Tour de France.

Tête de la course. The head of the race.

It's never going to be a matter of can, or maybe, or even should. Not for Céleste. It's a matter she has already had settled in her head. She will never imagine her future another way.

Kiara presses down on the pedals, even harder, enjoying this little race with her cousin. Even if it's one she's sure to lose.

Royal blue. Butter yellow. Purple at the center with orange fringes. The butterfly enclosure at Parc Floral de la Source has papillons in colours Kiara can't even begin to imagine.

Yet somehow, it is the black-veined, white-speckled, flame orange Monarch butterfly that most fascinates her. Kiara is almost tempted to touch its wings, to see if she'd find her fingers stained in fiery-hued dust as she'd always dreamed would happen. But she won't. She doesn't want to scare the poor thing away.

Lots of butterflies come to our garden. Come sometime in the morning, you'll see loads.

Kiara jerks her hand away as if stung. She isn't sure why these words, in the gentle tones of the young prince who used play tag and soccer with her, would give her a feeling of unease, rather than the usual mild fondness. Maybe because it has been almost a year since she last visited the palace gardens; perhaps because - if her parents' urgent whispers in the study were anything to go by - it is doubtful she would ever get to visit it again.

The last she saw of it, Her Majesty's (Call me Tatie Eleanor! she would hiss if Kiara ever tried to be formal around her) plans to create a hedge maze in the gardens had just begun to take form. There was very little to show of it back then, and Maman had whispered to her when they drove home that it would be roughly five to seven years before the maze looked anything like "Ellie's plans".

"Will it be fun?" she'd asked Maman when they'd reached half of the way back to Castelserraillan.

"Oh, very!" Maman said, a big grin on her face. "Ask your auntie Eleanor next time if you don't believe me. She used to spend all her time playing in garden mazes when she was a child."

Kiara frowned a little, suddenly remembering something.

"I thought Tatie Eleanor got the idea from that visit to Château de Villandry we took with her, two years ago!"

"That too!" Maman responded, grinning. "She loved visiting that place so much because it reminded her of her childhood." Her smile was now sweet, and a tiny bit conspirational. "We gave her that, ma fée."

Shivering, Kiara follows Céleste's lead outside to the open space that holds the spicy, woody, slightly-vanilla scent of purple irises.

Their housekeeper Renée packed them an enormous, sumptuous lunch before they left home; the cycling and the walking have made Céleste and Kiara ravenous enough to devour almost every spare morsel. Except, of course, one solitary baguette, which Céleste insists they keep so they can feed the flamingoes.

The birds make noises that sound like a cross between a loud honk and a piercing screech, scrambling to lay their claim on the pieces Céleste tosses their way. Kiara laughs, her fingers absently sweeping over the calm waters of the little Loiret tributary.

"I really wanted us to go to Château de Villandry today," Céleste's tone is that of a slight whine. "You always loved running through the garden labyrinth there."

Absently, Kiara pouts and throws another piece of the baguette to the birds.

"It's okay if we don't," her voice is almost a whisper, so soft Céleste has to strain to hear it. "This place was quite lovely!" If there is a false brightness she notices in her cousin's tone, Céleste doesn't allow herself to dwell on it.

They sit like that for a while - exactly how long Kiara can't recall - but when they're about to leave she calls out to her cousin. "Where would Maman and Tatie Jeanette be now?"

"Waiting for us at the canal," Céleste murmurs. She stops as she notices Kiara tense. "Don't look so scared, Kiki. Tatie Joli won't be sad forever."

Almost immediately, Céleste bites her tongue in a tacit apology. She's never been one to be very good with her words, and oftentimes - like this one - they come out sounding all wrong.

"Oh well," Kiara says, sighing, "It's not like anything I say will help. The more I talk, the sadder she gets. Maybe I should just..."

"Just what?"

"I don't know. Stop talking?"

The two girls are silent as they make their way back to where they'd kept their bicycles. It's only when they're about to mount that Kiara thinks to ask her.

"Céleste..."

"Hmm?"

"How do you know what kind of hugs your Maman wants?"

Céleste gives her a funny little look, like she's about to say I thought you'd never ask. But she shrugs instead.

"I don't always know, really. Sometimes I just try it and see if it works. Sometimes Maman doesn't want to listen to anything... sometimes she just wants someone to hold her tight. She lets me know."

"And if she doesn't like it?"

Céleste smiles. "I try something else. At some point I'll find something she likes!"

That's what I do with Maman too. Kiara thinks. But with words. Never with touch.

Kiara doesn't say a word after that. Not when they mount on their cycles, not when they exit the park, not when they reunite with their mothers at the canal, not even when they're back at the foot of the Jeanne d'Arc statue. Maman and Tatie Jeanette take turns to stare oddly at how unnaturally silent she seems, but Céleste's hand lightly touching her elbow reassures her. Lets her know that she doesn't need to talk until she feels like it.

Before they head to Tatie Jeanette's house, Céleste turns to her mother. "What about Château de Villandry next weekend, Maman? Kiki always liked the maze gar-"

She stops abruptly, noting with regret Kiara's panicked gaze and the terrified shake of her head.

Her voice is lower, more incoherent than a mumble. Her hands are folded in front of her, the perfect picture of a contrite child. "... we'll find another Château to visit, Maman. Sorry."

Too late. Maman holds it together, somehow, for a few minutes, before she excuses herself to her sister's study.

"I'll make you both a mug each of chocolat chaud... you'll like that!" Tatie Jeanette's voice seems falsely bright.

It is now Céleste who says nothing, as she gives Kiki one last, tight hug before she retreats to her room. Strangely, that action calms her a little.

Maman isn't at the desk of Tatie Jeanette's study, or even seated on one of the sofas or chairs. She is a crumpled figure on the floor, her body enfolding into itself, trying to look as invisible as possible even if she knows there is no one else in the room.

Kiara almost opens her mouth to speak, then snaps it shut. She stares at the lonely, defeated figure of her mother, remembering every scrape of knee that she had patted and every tiny arm-bruise she had given a little kiss to. Wordlessly.

Wordlessly, Kiara bends to her mother's eye-level. Lightly, tentatively, she wraps her arms around Maman's shoulder, keeping a small distance between their bodies.

After what feels like an age but must have been only two minutes, she feels something shift. Her mother angles her body more towards the circle of Kiara's arms, allowing them to tighten. Slowly, ever so slowly, Maman's hands make their way to the center of her spine, burrowing her daughter closer into her space. Against her cheek, Maman's own feels a little wet. But her body is more relaxed, the stress lines on her face receding.

Before this, Kiara had juggled with many possibilities to show comfort. Bringing up Queen Eleanor's name, never mentioning Queen Eleanor's name. Trying to talk more about this tragedy, trying to talk about literally everything else. Nothing had worked so far before this. Who knew that silence and touch could accomplish in 20 seconds what all the hours of talking couldn't?

Maman's hand rubs rhythmically along Kiara's back. Whether it's to return the gesture of comfort, or as an apology for not being the kind of mother she wanted to be for Kiara these days...Kiara has no idea.

What she does know, is that she hopes they get more chances. To share silence. To share comfort. To share - mother and daughter - the blanket-heavy warmth of these wordless embraces.

NOTES:

Two bits of foreshadowing here:

1. New Orleans: this was a bit of foreshadowing I included, because my TRR MC Esther hails from New Orleans.

2. The Monarch butterfly is the sigil of Krysanthe, the duchy that eventually Hana becomes the Duchess of.

Translations and additional notes:

1. Tonton - Like Tatie for aunt, Tonton is a nickname used to address your uncle.

2. Huge thanks to @thecapturedafrique for her suggestion of the girls wearing cornrows in summer! She'd also recommended styles, two of which I'd zeroed in on for Céleste and Kiara. The first one is Céleste's, the second Kiara's:

3. T'es prête? - Are you ready? (when said to a girl/woman)

4. "Qu'est-ce que tu veux faire quand tu seras grande ?" - What do you want to be when you grow up?

5. Tête de la course - Head of the race.

6. Papillon - Butterfly

Places mentioned in France:

The fic is largely set in Orléans, a city that's situated close to the Loire River.

Place du Martroi: The Martroi square is the main square of the city of Orleans, where stands the equestrian statue of Joan of Arc carried out in 1855 by Denis Foyatier.

Loire à Vèlo: La Loire à Vélo is a unique, 800km cycle route. It forms the western section of the EuroVelo 6 route (linking Black Sea to Atlantic) (basically you get a great view of the river through this cycling route).

Parc Floral de la Source: a French garden situated to the south of the River Loire, in the La Source neighbourhood of the town of Orléans, in the département of Loiret. The source of the Loiret tributary can be found at the center of this park.

Château de Villandry: The Château de Villandry is a grand country house located in Villandry, in the département of Indre-et-Loire, France. It is especially known for its beautiful gardens and has an intricate labyrinth/maze garden arrangement too.

Orphys: This is a country in the Cordonia universe which is home to the princesses Lerato and Lesidi.

#kiara theron #kiaratheronappreciationweek #KTAW #the royal romance #the royal heir #the royal finale #KTAW Day 4: Family #lizzybeth1986 #content: fanfic

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dcbbw · 1 year

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#KTAW WIP

For this year’s Kiara Appreciation, I am putting together a tiny collection of drabbles founded on a PB-canon incident that either directly or indirectly involves/affects The Lady of House Theron.

Below are the synopses; coming soon is the fic in its entirety.

Second Born (Liara AU)

Kiara deals with the implications and fallout of her brother Ezekiel renouncing the Dukeship

Black Pawn, White Knight (Kaxwell AU)

Barthelemy seeks Kiara’s help in bringing down the monarchy

Sister’s Keeper (with Drake and Riley)

In Lythikos, MC asks Kiara to join the Unity Tour as a show of support to the Crown

Kiss Me, You Fool

That kiss in Lythikos, from Kiara’s POV

Party Favors

While the bride, groom, and their closest friends are fighting for their lives in a replica of a Nevrakis stronghold, what are the remaining guests up to at the Palace?

@jared2612@ao719 @marietrinmimi @queenjilian @indiacater @kingliam2019 @bebepac @liamxs-world @mom2000aggie @liamrhysstalker2020 @neotericthemis @twinkleallnight @umccall71 @superharriet @busywoman @gabesmommie1130 @tessa-liam @beezm @gardeningourmet @lovingchoices14 @mainstreetreader @angelasscribbles @lady-calypso @emkay512 @princessleac1 @charlotteg234 @queenrileyrose @alj4890 @yourfavaquarius111 @motorcitymademadame @queenmiarys @burnsoslow @kiaratheronappreciationweek @lizzybeth1986 @sazanes

#dcbbw writes #kiara theron #ktaw #trr fanfiction #writeblr #writer on tumblr

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angelasscribbles · 1 year

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Mood Board and Appreciation: Kiara Theron

Face Claim: Aja Naomi King

More character collages

The first time I saw Kiara's sprite, I thought she looked familiar and I'm convinced that the artist based her on Aja!

I've been collecting photos of her and @kiaratheronappreciationweek propelled me to finally put some of them together. Here are a few of my favorite pics of her!

I thought I'd combine it with some Kiara appreciation.

Kiara is sophisticated, poised, intelligent, and beautiful! She was never actively shitty to MC like other ladies at court and when the Barthelemy thing happens, she is the only one who makes a decision by actually thinking things through with logic. She's the only one that tries to warn MC and, as things unfold, changes her vote based on the evidence. Everyone else has knee-jerk reactions or knuckles under to outside pressure.

Unlike all the other ladies at court, she has professional and career aspirations. She also has the drive, ambition, and intelligence to accomplish them. I am not convinced she ever actually wanted to marry Liam but rather joined the social season because it was expected of her. She's devoted to her family and her country and would fulfill those social obligations as a matter of course. It would also provide her an opportunity to network and forge political connections.

I also HC she has a good sense of humor, a sharp wit and that she doesn't take crap from anybody.

Twice I have married her to Gordon Price, the prime minister of Terrana. I have yet to write how that comes about, but one of these days maybe lol. I just HC that she would need someone with similar diplomatic goals and aspirations, someone that can match her intellectually and professionally.

#kiara theron #the royal romance #face claim #aja naomi king #ktaw

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cassiopeiacorvus · 2 years

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KTAW | DAY 2 - FAMILY

My father has [a telescope] just like this in his study. When I was small, he told me I could see the whole of Europe through the lens if I just knew where to point. Silly me... I believed him and wasted more than a few afternoons setting it up in different places around the balcony. --Kiara Theron, The Royal Romance Book Three, Chapter 17.

I've always thought this small moment between Kiara and Hakim was adorable so I had to draw it. Hakim definitely took this picture and occasionally brings it out to tease her with.

Tagging @kiaratheronappreciationweek, @lizzybeth1986, and @sazanes for Kiara's appreciation week.

#playchoices #the royal romance #kiara theron #kiaratheronappreciationweek #KTAW #cassiopeiacorvus draws #cassi originals

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thecapturedafrique · 2 years

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KTAW: Day 1—What We Love Most/Throwback

Good evening and happy Kiara Theron Appreciation Week! This post is definitely late, but for day 1’s theme, I’m sharing the character page I made for Kiki. After all, when it comes to what I love most, it’s her entire character!

Tagging @kiaratheronappreciationweek and the fantastic hosts @lizzybeth1986 and @sazanes!

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Full Name: Kiara Afnane Theron

In Greek: Κλάρα Άφναν Θήρας (Klára Áfnan Thíras)

In French: Claire Théron

In Arabic: أفنان حكيم آل شَوْكَتْ (‘Āfnān Ḥakīm Āl Šawkat/Afnane Hakim Al Shawkat)

Nicknames: Kiki (Ezekiel), little owl (Hakim)

Noble Title: Lady Kiara of House Theron, Countess of Heartwood, RC

Charge and Colors: little owl; sable and argent (w/ or)

Epithet: The Gilded Lady

Age: 24

Date of Birth: April 30th, 1994

Place of Birth: Sorbier, CS

Gender: Cis woman

Pronouns: She/her

Sexual Orientation: Bisexual

Zodiac: Aries ♈️

Enneagram: 3.2 (w2; Performer)

Self-assured, energetic, and competent with high self-esteem: they believe in themselves and their own value. Adaptable, desirable, charming, and gracious.

Height: 5’4”

Race/Ethnicity: Maghrebi and Afro-French (Mandinka)

Nationality: Cordonian, French, Moroccan

Face Claim: Flora Coquerel

Education: Aurynn Academy; BA (Hons) in Government with a joint Political Theory and International Relations Concentration from Harvard University; MA in International Relations with a Language and Diplomacy Concentration from Vancross Institute

Languages: French, Greek, English, Arabic, Vóreios Norse, Swedish, Spanish, German, Italian, Sabir, Latin/Ancient Greek (studied)

Favorite Color: gold

Piercings: double lobe; right tragus

Partner: Hana Lee (girlfriend)

Best Friend(s): Penelope Amarantos and Savannah Walker

Family*: Joëlle Theron (mother), Hakim Theron (father), Ezekiel Theron (older brother), Aaron Condé (maternal grandfather), three maternal aunts, two maternal uncles, Leïla Theron (parental aunt), Patrice & Aminata (maternal cousins)

*Maternal Lineage

Character Notes

Kiara’s middle name Afnane means “branches,” which I found fitting for a descendant of Rowan Thorn

Her surname Theron is an anagram of the original Thorne, which gained the additional vowel “e” over the course of the century following Cordonia’s formation and later became “Theron” after their house was exiled following their involvement in a revolt*

As the new heir of Castelsareillan, I decided Kiki should have a courtesy title to use and went with “Countess of Heartwood” to reference Bellmere

I chose the little owl as the specific species for House Theron’s sigil due to them being associated with Athena, the Greek goddess of wisdom and war (and thus found it an even more fitting nickname for Hakim to use)

The capital of Castelsareillan where Kiara was born, Sorbier, is French for “rowan”

Kiara’s enneagram is type Three, also known as “The Achiever”: the success-oriented, pragmatic type described as adaptive, excelling, driven, and image-conscious. She is a Two-Wing, who are generally more extroverted and charming than other type Threes, and her level 2 is the level of psychological capacity.

I head canon Hakim as being Moroccan through his father’s side, while Joëlle is ethnically of Mandinka descent

Credit to @lizzybeth1986 for Kiki’s face claim!

Many Cordonian noblewomen attend a finishing school their final year of gymnasium (Greek-equivalent to junior high) in preparation for their official court introduction, with Aurynn Academy being the premier

Of the ten languages Kiara knows, I included Vóreios Norse (an invented regional language of Lythikos) and Sabir (a pidgin language formerly used in the Mediterranean Basin which I head canon is still spoken); though she is fluent in all ten, they are listed in order from most familiar to least

Kiara’s tragus piercing is an old Castel tradition as the inner ear helps keep balance which is needed for archers; it’s now essentially considered a good luck charm

All of my character pages for TRR cast are of their status post main series, and like many others, I am a member of Team Hanara and imagine the two as having fallen in love over the course of TRR3

I also head canon that Kiara and Savannah were closer than canon indicates to flesh out both of their backstories

The only cousin named here (Aminata) is the one mentioned in canon whose wedding was missed

*Due to my lateness, please enjoy this extra bit of Cordonian history involving House Thorne becoming House Theron:

To avoid the Black Death, in 1344 C.E. all the kingdoms on the island of Pontios including Cordonia chose to close their borders. With exports severely reduced, this left the kingdom in need of becoming more self-sustaining, primarily in regard to necessities such as food. As such, a royal decree was passed the following year that all groves managed by hand would be replaced with apple orchards.

This included a major portion of Bellmere’s Heart Oak forest, and so commenced the Foresters’ Revolt. Unfortunately, despite the support of their noble house, the revolt was suppressed and Applewood was formed. The members of House Thorne were stripped of their titles and banished from the kingdom, and they ended up relocating to the northern forest south of the Blackspines. It would not be until two centuries later—due to their support of House Rys in the civil war—that the members would regain their status as nobility, now under the name House Theron.

#playchoices #the royal romance #trr #kiara theron #kiaratheronappreciationweek #ktaw #ktaw day 1 #character page #i will definitely be using that bonus week lolololtear

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thefirstcourtesan · 2 years

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Support

By Misha

Disclaimer- Not Mine.

Author’s Notes- I started this fic for Hana Lee Appreciation Week and hated what I had. Then today it occurred to me, it needed the second part and I made it more of a Kiara fic for @kiaratheronappreciationweek. I don’t usually rake my MC over the coals but sometimes she deserves it. Tagging @lizzybeth1986

Parity- Minor Drake/MC, Hana/Kiara, Liam/Olivia

Rating- PG-13

Summary- Hana asks Amelia to be there for her impending labour and Amelia handles it badly until Kiara gives her a piece of her mind.

“So we have been going over the birth plan,” Hana told me cheerfully, “I want a home birth and I want you there, Amelia, as my support person, along with Kiara, of course.”

I froze and looked at her doubtfully. “Are you sure I’m the right person to ask?”

She looked surprised. “Amelia, you’re my best friend, who else would I ask?”

She had me there and I didn’t even know why I was so surprised that Hana had asked me to be her birthing support person. Hana and I had been friends for years, I had two children of my own and yet I felt completely overwhelmed by the idea.

“I just don’t know if I’m the right person,” I demurred, “I mean, you need someone calm and good under pressure, someone reliable.”

Hana looked at me carefully. “And that’s not you? Because I seem to remember you leading Cordonia through multiple crisis’s.”

“That was mostly an accident,” I pointed out. “Why don’t you ask Olivia?”

Hana stared at me. “Olivia? You suggest I need someone calm and you suggest Olivia???”

I had to admit, put that way, it eid sound a little ridiculous. “She was a great birth coach,” I defended. Hana had been undergoing an emergency appendectomy when I went into labour with Will and so Olivia had stepped up. “When I was threatening to stab Drake, she pulled out a knife and gave it to me.”

“I feel like Drake wouldn’t agree with that being a good thing,” Hana said dryly,

I laughed, “no, he told me if we ever had more babies I had to schedule it for a time you could for sure be there. But I appreciated the gesture.”

Hana was quiet for a moment, “Amelia, do you not want to be there for me?” She looked hurt.

“Of course, I do,” I assured her, “I just… I don’t want to let you down or disappoint you.”

I had been in Cordonia for almost a decade now, but there was some lingering part of me that still didn’t feel good enough, that still felt like the screw-up and suddenly when faced with the idea of needing to be there for such a big moment in my best friend’s life, all those doubts and old feelings had come rushing back.

Hana squeezed my hand, “Oh Amelia, you could never disappoint me, you’re my best friend. It is why I want you there with me, I feel like none of this would have been possible without you. I need you there.”

I smiled, feeling silly, “then, of course I will be. I’d be honoured.”

“Amelia, can I speak to you for a minute?” Kiara asked later, her expression severe.

I nodded and followed her into her office, wondering what I had done to upset her. She and I weren’t as close as Hana and I, but after an initial rough start, we got along well and she didn’t usually look at me like that.

As soon as the door closed, she looked at me with a fury I had never seen from her. “How dare you?” She seethed. “Olivia? Really? Do you think I would let her anywhere near Hana when she was vulnerable?”

I almost made a joke about how she was bordering on treason, but the anger in her face stopped me.

“How often has Hana ever asked anything of you?” Kiara continued. “And when she finally does, you make it all about yourself! This isn’t about you, Amelia, and whatever insecurities you might have. It is about Hana! She should be focusing on herself and the baby, not comforting you.”

I let Kiara’s rant wash over me, feeling ashamed. I had been so busy caught up in my own feelings that I had forgotten about Hana’s and I knew it wasn’t the first time.

“You’re right,” I said, not attempting to explain or defend myself.

Kiara let out a breath, some of her anger fading, “Hana needs you,” she said more gently, “but she also deserves to have this be about her.”

“I know,” I agreed, “I handled that badly.”

“Yes.”

“And it wasn’t the first time,” I acknowledged. I loved Hana, she way best friend, but I knew that I didn’t always treat her as well as she deserved or as well as she treated me.

“No,” Kiara said pointedly, then sighed, “Hana is so good and giving and sometimes it is easy to take too much from her without even realising you are doing it.”

“And she’d never say anything,” I said quietly, realising that Hana so rarely spoke her feelings, her hurts. I knew I could be tactless and self-absorbed, I was sure there were times I had hurt Hana without intending it and to my shame, I had never stopped to consider that until now.

“No,” Kiara agreed, “and we both know why.”

We did. Her childhood, her parents. Hana was used to holding her feelings in and I ached to know that I had contributed to that.

I paused, wanting to apologise to Hana, but… “I probably shouldn't say anything, should I?”

“No,” Kiara said again, “because then she would rush to assure you that you didn’t hurt her feelings and it would be all about you again. I don’t want you to apologize, I want you to be better. I want you to be there for her.”

“I will be,” I promised, knowing that words were hollow and that I would have to follow through with action, “Kiara, I am really glad Hana has you.”

“I’m glad I have her,” Kiara told me simply. There was a moment of silence. “Thank you for listening,” she said finally.

“Thank you for making me see clearly,” I told her.

She smiled slightly. “Despite what I said earlier, I do know how much you care for Hana and I just…”

“It is ok,” I assured her. Kiara had nothing to apologize for, I had deserved every word. “We should get back to Hana. I have some questions to ask about her birth plan.”

Kiara nodded and followed me out of the office, the mood much lighter. At least between the two of us, for myself, I had a lot of self-reflection to do, and some self-improvements to make.

End

#playchoices #the royal romance #kiara theron #ktaw

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kiaratheronappreciationweek · 23 days

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Kiara fans! KTAW 2024 is coming up and we need your help to decide if you'd like a 3 day AW or a 5 day one!

#kiara theron #kiaratheronappreciationweek #ktaw #KTAW 2024 #the royal romance #the royal finale #the royal heir

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mixedkid-matchup · 1 year

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#cartoon bracket #round 1 #mixed matchup tag #kipo #kipo and the age of wonderbeasts #ktaw #willow park #toh #the owl house #poll #polls #tumblr bracket #tumblr competition

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twinkleallnight · 1 year

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Home is where my family is.

Book: TRR AU

Characters: Rashad x Kiara, Noah their son.

Word count: 2533

Disclaimer: All characters belong to pixelberry.

Rating: Mature

Warning: assassin attack, violence, hospital, sickness.

A/N: Meet Kiara and Rashad's grown up son Noah and live their story. Thanks a ton to @lizzybeth1986 for brainstorming this one. Not beta'd . Errors are all mine. Hope you enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it.

Prompt: Day 4 of @kiaratheronappreciationweek .

Holding hands, forehead kisses and love confessions for @choicesmonthlychallenge

Prompt 1&3 for @choicesflashfics week 23

It was a silent and gloomy morning. The weather was dull, the clouds refrained the warmth of sun rays from reaching the lap of the earth.

The young man turned his back to the window but the room was equally depressing. He ran his fingers through his thick, wavy, black hair. He pulled them back shaking his brains for some solution to the problem at hand. His mind again reached a dead end and he released his grip in frustration. His silky hair bounced back to softly kiss his temples.

His dark chocolate eyes flickered between the wall clock and the display of numbers on a monitor. He thanked God for blessing him with the knowledge of medicine. It was helping him keep a check on the vital signs. 'Few more minutes.' he counted. His eyes developed a mist when he took in the sight of the listless figure lying on the bed. The room was quiet and It may feel unoccupied lest for the constant beep of the monitor. A monitor giving a sign of the body that was alive, breathing, surviving.

He heard a soft murmur. He leapt forward to the bed. Her whimpers grew louder but they were still incoherent. He rested his hand on her shoulder to calm her down. She opened her eyes in response. Her vision was blurred after the heavy medication. She lifted her hand to touch him. Her fingers trembled. He supported her hand. She reached his wavy hair and combed her hand through them. "Rashad?"

He felt a bit disappointed. She was in delirium. "It's me, Maman. Noah. Pappy will be here anytime now."

"Hmmm." she let out a weak moan and closed her eyes. In a couple of seconds, she was again fast asleep.

Noah let out a sigh. He settled back in his chair, next to her. His thoughts took him down the memory lane when he was a little boy.

"Maman, I am your son, I am not Pappy's son, right?" He asked her innocently, sitting in her lap.

"And why does my bébé think so?" She questioned him.

"Pappy is brown. But I am darker like you."

Kiara threw her head back in laughter. "Yes Noah, you have the same colour like Maman and Pappy is brown because he has less melanin than us."

"Mill an? What is that?"

"Mon petit doctor! Melanin are tiny colour dots in our body."

"Maman, when I grow up to become a doctor I will help Pappy get more dots."

"He doesn't need more, Noah. We are all made different and we are beautiful in our own ways."

"Then how will I have something the same as Pappy?"

"You already have. You have your Pappy's beautiful hair." She raked her fingers through his fluffed side locks and pulled them back. His hair bounced back just like Rashad's did. Kiara bent down to kiss Noah's hair over his temple.

"And most important of all you have got your Pappy's big heart."

"But my heart is tiny."

"It is. But you have the power to love us all with your tiny little heart. Maman loves you for that."

Noah came back from his reverie and wiped the corner of his eyes. He chuckled then picked up his phone to message his father.

'She woke up for a few minutes.

I was next to her

but she thought it was you.'

He hit the send button and softly placed the cell phone on the table, without a sound. He then reclined on the chair to relax for sometime. 'Pappy will be here soon. Hold on, Maman.' he tried telling her, before closing his eyes.

**********

Rashad was lost in memories of Kiara while his driver maneuvered the SUV around the bends of the road through the mountains. A smile played on his lips as he remembered their petty fights at work, when she was just an acquaintance. And he was possibly the most annoying professional colleague to her. Their first meeting for the council work was still fresh in his mind. As if it was yesterday….

Her chamber was located on the second floor right next to the staircase. A brass nameplate hung over the wooden door. As her daily ritual she stood in front of her office and read out proudly, “Kiara Theron, Minister of External Affairs.”

“If you are done gloating, we can start doing some actual work.” His husky male voice startled her. She turned to face Rashad who held a bunch of files in his hands. He forced his way through the doors of her office, ignoring her.

Kiara stomped behind him. He dumped the documents on her table with a thud and turned around. She was right in his face, furious, as she yelled at him, “Who do you think you are? Speaking rudely to me and then barging right into my office without my permission.”

He placed his finger on her tiny nose and gently pushed her back. “I prefer to talk across the table. Safe distance, you see.”

Kiara stumbled in her step before stabilizing herself. She moved across the table and pointed towards the door, “And I prefer you knock on the door before you come in and talk to me.”

He shrugged his shoulders, “Fine, I will inform His Majesty that the external affairs Minister was too busy drowning in her own glory to talk.” He picked up the files and started walking towards the door.

“Hey, wait!” He didn’t listen. “I said, STOP.”

He froze but didn’t turn back. Kiara scooted towards him. She stood between the door and Rashad. “Liam sent you?”

“Not exactly. I thought I would come to your office and make it easy for you, since it’s your first time working with my department.”

Kiara crossed her arms, “And this is how you welcome a new colleague?"

"I am sorry." He started checking his pockets. "Now where did I keep that red carpet?"

"Arghhhhh! I am done with you!"

"The pleasure is all mine." He smirked.

*********

Just then his phone beeped. He shook his head, smiling still thinking of his wife as he opened the inbox. His brows furrowed on reading their son Noah's message. He instructed his driver to speed up and replied to Noah,

'Will be there in an hour.'

He looked out of the window again. Worry still reflecting on his face. He could feel his heartbeat racing, current events taking him back to the incident that had troubled him years ago, returning to haunt him……..

****************

The melody playing in the background, the grandeur of the ambience, the silks and satins, the rich aroma of food and the splurging drinks. The festival of five kingdoms was in its full glory. Kiara and Rashad had collectively helped acquire great deals for the council and the members were all praises for them.

What Rashad started as a waggery at work soon turned into respect and admiration for Kiara. She was wise, intelligent, focused, determined and hard working. She was definitely the beauty with brains. Rashad would never admit it but he was not just in awe of her smartness he was smitten with her smile, her brown eyes. He was falling for her.

He was holding the drinks in his hands, Sazerac for himself and a Catena wine for her. He was making way through the crowd towards her when he heard the loud boom. The next moment he was on the floor, covering his ears, the crystal shattered into million pieces around him. There were screams between the gunfire. He could see someone scrambling to his left and hear a few footsteps running from his right.

'Kiara? Where is Kiara?' He got up and rushed to the direction where he had left her. His palpitations increased further when the scene unfolded in front of him. She was struggling, putting up a fight with someone who looked like a…. Like a killer. 'Assassin!' he thought and ran towards her. He could see the shine of the metal between them. 'dagger.' his mind registered. But before he could reach her, the damage was done. The ruthless murderer had pushed the blade into her side.

She stumbled back. "Kiara!" Rashad screamed. The assassin saw him and ran away in the opposite direction.

Rashad picked up at her falling frame. "Kiara? Kiara?"

She groaned in pain holding her side around the heel of the knife. Her eyes seemed to be rolling back.

"Ki… Kiara. Look at me. Keep your eyes open. I promise I won't let anything happen to you." He looked around, "Help! We need help here!

He lowered her to the floor. He pulled out his kerchief and untied his cravat and tucked the pieces of cloth around her wound, careful not to move the handle of the knife. He covered her with his coat. He cupped her face with one hand and felt she was going cold. He again yelled,"Help! Please!"

This time someone heard him maybe and before he could register what was happening, he was in an ambulance beside her, speeding through the Cordonian streets.

The blaring of a horn from a passing vehicle brought him back to the present. He realised he was sweating. He dabbed on his forehead and checked his watch. He looked around. They were in the Capitol already. He texted Noah and hastened to wrap his belongings in the vehicle.

The driver entered the hospital and Rashad dashed to the second floor.

He entered the room and froze. The scene before him was like deja vu. He had seen her in a hospital bed years ago. Her delicate body connected with numerous wires to the gadgets that hummed and beeped. But this time he could not tolerate it. He did not want it to be this way. His beloved wife, His Kiara, tied to the wires that claimed to predict her survival. He swallowed thickly.

Noah saw the uneasiness etched on Rashad's face. He stepped forward and placed a comforting hand on his father's shoulder. He then ushered him in, and guided him to the chair next to Kiara's bed.

Her body looked lifeless. Her eyes were sunken hollows. Her skin had lost the sheen. Her black hair made a train behind where her head lay. The silver strands in between were the proof of years spent together.

Rashad placed his hand next to hers. His fingers just touched hers. He was scared. Scared of waking her. Scared of hurting her. Scared of losing her. He felt a lump in his throat when he held her hand.

He shifted his gaze from her fingers,back to her face and suddenly felt the spin in the room. His mind whirled him to the hospital room many years ago. Kiara lying in the bed in the same way but much younger. He could feel as if it was just yesterday.

He wasn't as patient as he is now. He thought back about that time....

He was eager and restless, for her to open her eyes. He was shy to touch her but he couldn't wait anymore. So, with much hesitation, he brushed his fingers over hers and then gradually built up the courage to hold her hand.

"Kiara," he said to her sleeping form. "I am sorry, I couldn't reach you in time. I am sorry, you had to go through this pain."

He snuggled her hand between both his palms. His head hung low as he tried to speak, keeping the tears in his eyes at bay.

" I… I don't want to live in denial anymore. I like you a lot Ki…" he swallowed trying to control the overwhelming feeling. "I want to live and enjoy moments with you. I want to spoil you with gifts. I want to share with you. Please don't give up so soon. Please give me a chance. God! Please let me, once…"

He broke. His forehead rested on her hand that he held. Tears crossed the dams of his eyes to flow down freely. A hitched sob struck in his throat. He was so deep in his sorrow that he missed her fingers curling over his.

A feeble voice said, "Don't you have a better deal to offer, Mr Lawyer?" Rashad looked up with a jerk. Kiara's eyes were open only to a narrow slit. Rashad wiped his tears with one hand, holding her hand with the other. He smiled at her, "Anything you want. If there was ever anybody meant for me, it’s you.” He got up and placed a kiss on her forehead. He sat back and lifted her hand to kiss it again and again. He didn't want to hide anymore. He didn't want to miss his second chance.

"I will get the doctor." He got up to leave. Just as on cue, the door opened and in came the Theron's- Hakim,Joelle and Zeke.

"Kiki! Are you alright?" Joelle rushed to her side. They were all so worried and anxious,they didn't realise Rashad was standing there. Joelle held her hand while Hakim patted her forehead. Zeke filled in, "The security detail was so tight. They were not ready to reveal your location, whether you are at a safe house or a hospital. We came as soon as they spilled the information."

Kiara was listening,quietly. She was happy to be able to see them all. She raised her eyes to follow the receding figure of Rashad. He stopped at the door and turned back to meet her gaze. At that moment she knew that though her family was with her but where her home was, where her heart was.

*********

Rashad was praying silently when he felt her fingers move in his hands. His lips curled up. He raised his head to meet her eyes and she smiled back. He cupped her face with one hand "Did you sleep well, mon amour?"

She gave a slight nod.

"How are you feeling now?"

Her lips parted but speaking looked like an effort. Her eyelids closed slowly and opened again. She rolled her tongue out to moisten her lips. Rashad caressed her. He was not in a hurry. He was going to be there for her. He let her take time. Finally she let out a sigh and said, "I am much better, now that you are here."

"And I am not going anywhere."

"You are a busy man."

Rashad protested, "I am staying right here till you get better and we walk you home."

"Noah?" She asked for her son. He swiftly moved across the room to be at her side.

"I am here, Maman."

She called him closer and planted a kiss on his head. He kissed her back on the cheek and gave her a side hug. She had his arm around her. She looked at Rashad and tugged at his hand.

Rashad moved closer to her, giving her a side hug from the other side.

"We have come a long way, you and I" she gave him a weak smile.

"We will be home soon." He whispered in her ear.

She glanced at both her sides, her son and her husband besides her, each holding one of her hands. "Home is where my family is." She said and closed her eyes in the warmth of her husband's embrace.

Tags: @3pawandme @alj4890 @angelasscribbles @bascmve01 @bebepac @busywoman @dcbbw @gkittylove99 @harleybeaumont @iaminlovewithtrr @karahalloway @kingliam2019 @lizzybeth1986 @lovingchoices14 @nestledonthaveone @neotericthemis @mom2000aggie @phoenixrising0308 @princess-geek @riseandshinelittleblossom @sazanes @secretaryunpaid @sfb123 @sillydg @tessa-liam @tinkie1973 @txemrn @walkerdrakewalker @yourmajesty09 @choicesficwriterscreations

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sazanes · 1 year

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Day 5 - Relationships/Friendships/Throwback - First Waltz

"Ultimately, the waltz is like a conversation. You and your partner make a connection, responding to each other to make the dance work."

@kiaratheronappreciationweek @lizzybeth1986 @sazanes

#kiaratheronappreciationweek #KTAW Day 5 #KTAW #kiara theron #hana lee #the royal romance #myart #playchoices #fan art #digital art

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lizzybeth1986 · 1 year

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Batalla del Vino

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Kiara x Hana

Rating: PG

Summary: It's the Haro Wine Festival! Kiara and Hana spend a day in La Rioja, Spain, getting into a messy wine fight of epic proportions!

Word Count: 1, 505 words

Tagging @choicesficwriterscreations for FoTW, @kiaratheronappreciationweek and @sazanes for KTAW Day 1: Wine, and @choices-february2023 for February, Day 14.

Monthly Challenge Day 14: 14. Valentine's Day | Chocolates | I Honestly Love You (Olivia Newton John)

A/N: Kiara proposes to Hana 6 months after Liam and Esther's wedding. This trip takes place shortly after she proposes to Hana.

Céleste is Kiara's cousin from her maternal side. She is the eldest daughter of Joëlle's sister Jeanette, and is 2 years Kiara's senior. They are best friends.

The sun is shining bright on Spain this June morning - on the trees, on the pristine white stone of the San Felices de Bilibio Chapel, on the purple banner placed by the Síndico Regidor, on the highest rock of the city. Kiara smirks at the shadows on the dull tar road. By evening this path will be so drenched in wine you may just about see the reflection of the setting sun on it.

Hana grabs her hand with the freedom of a woman who doesn't care who sees. Kiara can see the glow of sunlight again, this time in the tiny rainbow splinters on the diamonds of Hana's engagement ring, as she brushes a stray strand away from her face.

She's wearing an old white t-shirt of Kiara's, one she'd thrown at Hana in horror when she'd found out that she wasn't exactly allowed to wear t-shirts or jeans until she'd come to Cordonia. Kiara makes a mental note of taking Hana shopping before they leave Spain.

Mon Dieu, how long has this woman been starved of casual fashion? Or casual anything?

In the distance, a rocket is fired, marking the beginnings of the battle that is to erupt here.

"This one's going to get ruined by the end of the day, won't it...?" Hana says ruefully, nervously picking at the edges of the shirt as the crowd begins to disperse from the chapel.

The last time Kiara wore this particular one, it hung a little looser. She'd lost weight back then and had rarely worn it since, so seeing its contours mould themselves more fully to Hana's curves...seeing fabric that once belonged to her cling even more lovingly to Hana's skin than to her own, sends a kind of secret thrill through her. It makes her want to leave the festival, grab Hana by the hand and -

Kiara stifles a shiver, lifting the two large plastic containers they'd brought just to distract her very fertile mind. "Of course it will! That's the whole point."

Hana touches the faded old wrap on Kiara's head lightly. "But I'm glad you put this on. Hair like yours is far too beautiful to get ruined by alcohol."

"Mmm," Kiara says, smiling slightly. "I learn from my mistakes."

The first time she'd come to La Rioja, it had been with Céleste, her cousin from Loire. Kiara was nineteen and never liked being told what to do. So when Céleste and Tatie Jeanette begged her to cover her hair before setting out to the festival, she'd "hmph"ed and pretended she wanted to get her curls drenched in wine.

"Tiens, tiens!" Céleste had said, leaning against the door of Kiara's hotel bedroom three days later. Crossing her arms and smirking as she struggled with her hairbrush, her older cousin looked quite a bit like the cat that got the cream. "Qu'est-ce que je t'avais dit?"

Kiara had raised her chin in defiance, ignoring the tangled mess that were her curls now. She was never one to back down, not even in front of her favourite cousin.

"Hmph," she'd said, her voice squeaking slightly from the strain of lying to Céleste, "I like it this way."

Céleste's yell of laughter could be heard all the way from the top floor.

The onslaught of alcohol starts small, as it usually does. With tiny squirts from brightly-coloured, toy guns, spraying dots and Rorschach blots over the white canvas of their shirts. With a hose that doesn't spare anyone in the crowd. With random droplets raining down on them from directions they can no longer keep track of. All until a stranger laughingly tips over a whole carton of box wine over Hana's head, and Hana - never one to be bested - unleashes a cloudburst of Castelserraillan's very best Nebbiolo Red over the culprit's shirt and shorts, her voice rising in a wild, delighted guffaw as she wipes the wine from her eyes.

"Well!" Hana says, turning to an equally winesoaked Kiara. "I believe that's a very good way of getting the world to sample our 1980 collection."

Kiara splashes some more wine on Hana and a passing stranger for emphasis. "Funny enough, Maman had said quite the same thing five years ago."

She'd expected Maman to be more disappointed about her use of produce from their lovingly-cultivated grapes, but somehow the only gripe she seemed to have was about the packaging.

"Plastic!!!" she'd hissed all along the roads to Haro. "Zut alors, we're parading around award-winning wine...in plastic!"

"Yes, Maman, because glass bottles are so safe to carry in such a huge crowd," Kiara replied with a snort. "Besides, you never heard Tatie Jeanette complaining, and you two practically grew up around vineyards!"

Maman rolled her eyes. Secretly, she was enjoying the experience - never ducking from the sprays of wine that came their way, and giving back as good as she got so that only half an hour into the festival they were almost out of wine to spill. But she was never going to admit that to her daughter in words - just in very pursed, privately amused smiles and a ravenous appetite for a lunch of snails and pork chops later.

"Well," Maman said, her chin high in the air, her voice comically airy, "no one here can complain we didn't bathe them in some quality wine, can they, doudou!"

Hana's hair whips around her face now in rats' tails as she laughs, every inch of her stained a bright mauve. Kiara fights the impulse to kiss her right then and there in front of everyone, including a group of older women gossiping in rapid Spanish. No one but her will know what it took Hana to get to this point. She'd heard enough - not from Hana. From Maxwell, from Esther, from Liam - about the jitters her wonderful bride would face everytime her friends tried to involve her in a food fight. How hesitant she'd been the first time they got her to try a Sloppy Joe. How she'd shifted from foot to foot when Maxwell had suggested a food fight at her lovingly-planned chocolate fondue party, the night of Madeleine's awful bachelorette. How even now she tries to eat barbequed pork delicately, with the tips of her fingers.

Every time she engaged in these activities, her face was a kaleidoscope of conflicting emotions - pleasure at the Dionysian decadence of it all, guilt at stepping so far out of who she was supposed to be. When Hana had picked so nervously at her (their?) shirt today, Kiara was almost afraid she'd regret this experience, regret coming to Spain with her.

To the world her beloved's giggles may sound jarring coming from the mouth of one so delicate - but to Kiara it is the first fierce burst of sunlight, spilling in rainbow splinters, emerging after several days of rain.

It is half-past-ten by the time the crowd wraps up the festivities, heading down glistening winesoaked tar roads towards the buses that will take them back to their hotels. They've got enough time to bathe, change and take a small siesta before they head out for lunch, a game of wine-pong and an afternoon of bullfights.

Kiara pulls Hana behind a tree before they reach the bus, swallowing Hana's gasp in a brief but still searing kiss. "I've been wanting to do that all morning," she whispers as she samples with her tongue every cheap wine Hana had unknowingly tasted these few hours. Their tongues and teeth clash as if gearing for battle. The very best kind of battle.

"Will there be enough time for...more than a shower and dressing up, do you think?" Hana laughs, a little breathless, their hips almost glued together. Kiara has no idea how her fiancée's eyes can both glow and darken at the same time, but in this moment they do.

She savours the taste of that kiss as she teasingly pretends to think. Like wine and mint and fulfillment. It must be the world's best flavour.

"Mm," she says, smiling wickedly, "but most times you like it when I make you wait, cherie!"

Hana throws her head back and laughs. Before Kiara lets her go, she peppers her jaw with a line of desperate kisses. "I can assure you, qīn’ài de, this isn't one of them!"

Hana's arms are wound around Kiara's waist as they head back to the bus, and Kiara's hand floats lightly over Hana's spine. They can barely take their eyes off of each other, and almost bump into three people along the way.

But no matter. As the two women walk down a wet shining road, all they know is that this wait for what the rest of the day has in store has in store for them will be absolutely worth it.

They can already tell. This wait will be particularly...delicious.

The Haro Wine Festival is celebrated every year from the 28th to 30th of June. It began historically with territorial disputes over the region of Haro at La Rioja, Spain, where purple banners would establish ownership of the region...but over the years and centuries it evolved into the fun wine battles we know of today. Learn more about the Haro Wine Festival here and you can see a video of it here.

Batalla del Vino - Spanish for "Battle of Wine", which is what the Haro Wine Festival is often called. It takes place on 29th June, St Peter's Day.

Síndico Regidor - In this context, the city mayor.

Tatie - Auntie

Tiens, Tiens - can mean different things, including "well, well" or "oh my!". Usually meant to denote surprise but in this context Céleste uses it sarcastically.

Qu'est-ce que je t'avais dit? - Didn't I tell you so?

Doudou - Endearment that can mean "stuffed toy" or "blankie".

Qīn’ài de - Mandarin Chinese for "darling" or "dearest". Gender-neutral endearment used both by unmarried and married couples.

A/N2: Since Hana and Kiara are newly engaged in this fic, I really did want to explore them as this giddy couple, while still exploring Kiara's family and Hana getting used to enjoying mess 😄

#kiara theron #hana lee #kiaratheronappreciationweek #KTAW #the royal romance #the royal heir #the royal finale #KTAW Day 1: Wine #lizzybeth1986 #content: fanfic #kiara x hana #hana x kiara

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dcbbw · 1 year

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Second Born

This story was one of my offerings for #Kiara Theron Appreciation Week 2023, Day 4: Family/Friends/Relationships. It is later than usual (even by my standards), and I have no expectations for it to be added to any Masterlist other than mine.

The original idea was a collection of drabbles based upon a canon incident involving the Lady of House Theron that just has to affect /impact her, or at least I think it would. As is typical with my writing, the stories would be crafted with more head canon than actual canon.

I’m sticking with that premise, with one exception: instead of drabbles contained within one fic, I am breaking it out into five separate stories for two reasons: Instead of rushing through five stories, I can take my time with each one, hopefully providing more depth and context; and it provides Kiara content at various times throughout the year (why should MC and main LIs have all the fun?).

Starting off with Second Born, a Liara story exploring Kiara’s initial reactions and responses to her brother Ezekiel renouncing the Castelsarreillan Dukeship.

Huge thanks to @lizzybeth1986 and @sazanes for hosting this event and THANK YOU to all who will read this story. Your likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated more than you know!

Please excuse any and all typos, missing/extraneous words, and/or grammatical errors. MS Editor rates this fic as 99% error-free.

All characters belong to Pixelberry.

Song Inspo: House Song, Searows

Word Count: 1,321

Pairings: Liam x Kiara

Rating T for Teen

House Theron, Duchy of Castelsarreillan

Kiara Theron stalked across her Great House’s grand foyer, her stiletto heels tapping sharply against silver-veined black marble. Her arms were held tightly to her side, her hands clenched into fists. Her lips were pressed into a thin line; her hair bounced in the space between her shoulder blades.

“Lady Kiara!”

The hushed shout echoed softly throughout the large space; Kiara ignored it as she disappeared into one of several formal dining rooms. As she stalked through the room, her eyes critically surveyed the dining table, properly set with Wedgewood china and Waterford crystal while it awaited occupants and lunch.

When her follower arrived, he pushed the door partly shut; it allowed them a semblance of privacy while still adhering to propriety. The room was incredibly large, rivaling that of any in the Palace; he found himself seeking Kiara out, finding her staring out a curtained French window, her eyes trained on the group still chatting on the front steps.

“Kiara,” King Liam murmured in her ear. “Love, what’s wrong?”

The Lady of House Theron stamped her foot against the cherrywood floor as she whirled to face her lover.

“YOU KNOW what’s wrong! You were there!”

She placed her palms flat against his shirt-covered chest, lightly pushing him. Liam didn’t move.

“How … how Ezekiel could announce in front of the ENTIRE royal entourage that he’s abdicating the Dukeship before telling me and our parents? And then my parents APPROVING of it!”

Liam stepped back slightly, studying his lover attentively. “I would think being named Duchess of Castelsarreillan would be cause for celebration and congratulations, not wrath and consternation.”

Kiara took a few steps away before slowly sitting in a dining chair, her lips pushed to the side as she exhaled a frustrated breath. She tilted her head up to meet the monarch’s gaze.

“I don’t want to be Duchess. I am the second-born, which means … or meant I was free to pursue my own path. Ownership of a duchy and ruling over its citizens was not a part of that!”

Liam sat in the chair next to her, the palm of his hand covering the top of hers.

“As trite and overused as the phrase is, you were bred for this. You’ve always been House Theron’s representative. At Council meetings, at galas and charity functions. Frankly, I believe all of Court had forgotten Ezekiel was next in the line of succession.”

“I was the ambassador for my house! NOT the heir apparent,” Kiara huffed, snatching her hand away before dropping her face into her palms. “I don’t want to be permanently tied to Cordonia! There’s entire world beyond our borders, and I want to see it. The only reason I’m here right now is because I agreed to an arrangement with you.”

She glanced quickly at Liam, but his expression was neutral. “That sounds horrible, but you know my heart is in travel, negotiations, and languages. Eventually, a UN ambassadorship! It always has been, and now that I have the opportunity to put my education and training to good use … I can’t because Ezekiel wants to be a VETERINARIAN!”

Tears of frustration welled in the corners of her eyes.

“Veterinary medicine is an honorable profession,” Liam replied slowly, unsure if he were adding gasoline to the fire.

“HE DOESN’T WANT TO BE A VETERINARIAN!” Kiara yelled. Her fist pounded the table. “A lifelong dream that NO ONE KNEW ABOUT, he just blurts out in front of EVERYONE?” She shook her head vigorously. “No, that was just to impress Penelope. He simply doesn’t want to be Duke!”

Liam nods slowly. “Much like Leo didn’t want to be King.”

“But why?” Kiara’s question was strangled, as if her frustration and anger were lodged in her throat, choking her. “Why do they get to do as they please? How do they get to shirk responsibility? And why is it automatically presumed that the second-born child will just be held accountable for someone else’s duty?”

Quiet as Liam pondered an answer. He cleared his throat after a few moments before speaking.

“We’re called spares for a reason. In our circles, birth order determines who is the chosen one; it doesn’t always mean that they are the correct one for the responsibility that comes with governance. The entire purpose of leadership is to push forward in a positive direction with a propensity towards betterment. For all. That requires a level of service that not many have, a selflessness that must be constantly cultivated, an objectivity.

“I wasn’t happy when Leo abdicated, but I knew I would step up. Not because I had to, but because I wanted to. Same as you, I was taught and groomed to be the representative, and much like you … I enjoyed it for the fact that it was a temporary thing. And when it became permanent, I still enjoyed it. Unlike you, I didn’t have any plans towards a future endeavor. I found myself, my purpose when Leo stepped down.”

Kiara’s eyes searched Liam’s; they were calm, clear, accepting of his situation.

“What if I don’t want to do it?” she asks softly, plaintively.

“You don’t have to. You can refuse, and upon your parents’ deaths, the duchy reverts to the Crown’s ownership, to be bestowed or sold at the ruling monarch’s discretion.”

Kiara processed Liam’s statement. Castelsarreillan had belonged to Theron lineage for centuries, multiple centuries. Back to a time there was no Cordonia, and the primitive land was filled with magic and legends. That fact raised her ire even more: It wasn’t on her to ensure that the family line retain it a century more.

And yet, now it was.

“What if … what if there are children? Future heirs to the duchy?”

Liam shakes his head. “You know as well as I do that a renunciation or refusal to assume the position offered is absolute. Of course, provisions can be made for the last of a bloodline; in this scenario, that would apply to Ezekiel only. “

“Because I’m a woman, and any children I would bear would only carry my blood and not the Theron name.” Kiara finished Liam’s thought in a tone laced with both annoyance and resignation.

Her lover shrugged his broad shoulders; the Lady lightly licked her lips at seeing how his frame perfectly fit his suit jacket. “I don’t make the rules.”

This elicited a small chuckle from Kiara. “You’re the KING! Of course you do!” She lightly swatted his upper arm; her fingertips lingered at the feel of defined muscle.

Liam flashed her a small smile before chewing on his lower lip, a tell that he was contemplating something.

“You do realize that the ascension would not be immediate. Your parents are both fairly young and in good health. The paperwork is merely a formality, securing the line of succession. You would have many years to pursue your goals and ambitions. And being a Duchess wouldn’t restrict you from having a career.”

The slam of the front entry doors alerted the pair that the others were preparing to join them. Kiara stared silently at the ivory-colored soup bowl, its edges rimmed with a 24-carat gold band.

“I know that; it’s just that it makes me feel as if I’ve run out of time. That my hopes, dreams, goals are now on some accelerated schedule, and I have to rush through my life to live with another’s life choice. And for what? If something does develop between Zeke and Penelope, he becomes a Duke regardless.”

She swallowed heavily as her fingertip idly traced the bowl’s golden ring.

“I just can’t help but wonder if Leo and Ezekiel realize that their actions, aside from being the largest dereliction of duty, alters the trajectory of history.”

Liam leaned in closer to Kiara, smelling her hair and inhaling her scent for the briefest of moments before drawing away as chatter and footsteps drew closer.

“Or they’ve given us a chance to make history.”

Tagging: @jared2612 @ao719 @marietrinmimi @queenjilian @indiacater @kingliam2019 @bebepac @liamxs-world @mom2000aggie @liamrhysstalker2020 @neotericthemis @twinkleallnight @umccall71 @superharriet @busywoman @gabesmommie1130 @tessa-liam @beezm @gardeningourmet @lovingchoices14 @mainstreetreader @angelasscribbles @lady-calypso @emkay512 @princessleac1 @charlotteg234 @queenrileyrose @alj4890 @yourfavaquarius111 @motorcitymademadame @queenmiarys @choicesficwriterscreations @lizzybeth1986 @sazanes

#dcbbw writes #ktaw day 4 #liara #trr fanfiction #laim rys #kiara theron #writer on tumblr

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