rcgcnt

[rcgcnt]

No, he would have not. Eirik lowers his eyes for an instant, not to meet the young woman's gaze. "You were much younger back then. We parents tend to be protective like that." A quick smile is offered along with the half-lie, making it more palatable not to Victoria, but to himself. "Your brother will be much busier once he is king, unfortunately. As for me—" Traveling the world was a romantic notion, though one that he had never entertained for long. Like Victoria, he was ignorant of most of it. But, unlike Victoria, he was too old to embark on such an adventure, and he had more important things waiting back at home, if they would wait for him at all. "I think you are good to start making your own decisions, and learn about the world on your own. Have you made any new friends already?"

The unknown was never a point of fear for Victoria. There was very little that could scare her, or at least that was what she knew of the world before that very day. All the outside world had to offer, from her experience in it for a few days, was other people with different perspectives and different ways of preparing food and dressing. How could any of that be scary? She would have much to learn on that front. "Well it is wonderful," she complimented as though the chef rested in the room with them, "Oh, father would never have allowed me to do such a thing, be away from home for so long..." But mother was no longer here. Father was presumed not to be, but who, really, could prove that? Perhaps he would show his face one day. "If you or Phillip were to accompany me, I'm certain that would be alright. Wouldn't it?"

#.victoria

[rcgcnt]

"We don't know that. We don't know if we were invited by the perpetrators in the first place, trying to cover their tracks by playing the part of the peacemakers, or if there might not even be a culprit among us at the moment — an organization external to the nations and institutions currently present." No deaths have happened ever since the leaders came together in Lal Qila, and he had even considered the idea that the murders may now have been an end, but a means to one.

Erik does not reply to the prince with words, but rather lets out a sigh, that he expects will convey the sentiment he has expressed multiple times already: the throne will be his, as dictated by his father... even though the regent has grown increasingly reluctant with every passing year. "Neither you nor I are in positions similar to the previous targets, that is true, but the common link — excluding the children — is that their deaths prompted an untimely succession. Removing me would not disrupt the course of events, merely accelerate it."

"So far, nothing of note. I have observed that the only rulers to have been involved in the recently uncovered scandals are those from targeted kingdoms. Except for the Empresses, but their own issues are more of the interpersonal kind. Germany with their economy, Japan with their now explicit opposition to China, and Persia with the unrest in the sultan's family. What about you, your highness?" He adds, after a pause, and immediately chastises himself for the tone used, bordering on accusatory. If Phillip still refuses to engage in his duties, they would need to have an uncomfortable conversation on that matter.

always, phillip answered silently, for a moment wishing he'd said it aloud. "you think the danger that great? that we would be invited here and subsequently murdered the moment one is alone?" although he did not yet understand what was happening, the prince had assured himself that nothing so sinister could be at play. no one so foolish could be masterminding all this.

"would i even be a target?" he asked casually as he turned to look at the regent, a playful grin hiding something more wicked. "it is you, after all, who holds the power. i am several months away from claiming it. i might as well be a spare instead of the heir." he told him with a lazy shrug of his shoulder as he reached up to stroke the horses chin once more. it was not the first time the prince had spoke in such a way in eirik's presence and would be far from the last.

finally and with a some hesitation, phillip turned his back on the horse beside him and closed the distance between him and the other man. "so what have you learned?" he finally asked pushing away all his other emotions and ill-feelings towards him for the moment. there was a reason his father had chosen eirik as regent, though phillip had never figured it out, he constantly tried to remind himself of it. his father trusted him for a reason and so must he. even if every fiber of his being told him not to.

#.phillip

[rcgcnt]

A chuckle follows, finding something endearing in the younger man's words. Genuine feeling, he can tell. The answer that comes to mind first is unsuited for foreign ears — he, too, has lived similar kinds of terrifying symptoms, nearly as oppressive as the secrets he had been forced to bear. But he had time to learn how to rein them in, and maintain the closest he could achieve to the façade he was expected to display. "You may call it a hunch. Or old age."

He stands up again, and takes a seat next to the sultan. "I have heard of your predicament," but he would be sick by now of hearing strangers offer their condolences, no doubt. "Although I suppose the mindless spillage of that is meant to remain private is precisely the problem we are dealing with here." He offers now a hand, and an introduction. "Lord Eirik Sigurdsson, of Norway."

rostam gives the older regent a pointed look, the relief of being able to breathe for the first time in a long time melting his stoicism away. in fact, had somebody who had known him before death took the joy from him been watching, they might've thought that he had returned to normal. "i have been feeling this way since we arrived here and nobody that i have confided in has given me answers." he tilts his head, a soft pout stitched into his expression. "how is that you knew what would heal it, if you are not a physician? are you sorcerer?" he teases. he nods. "i am, thank you. had you not come along, i do not know how i might've fared."

#.rostam

[rcgcnt]

Nowhere to be found. It isn't an unusual occurrence — the old regent is a perceptive man, and doesn't need to write down the times he has lost sight of the crown prince's whereabouts to know how often it happens. For the most part, he empathetically prefers to leave the prince to his own affairs. Where his youngest sister saw him as a sort of surrogate parent, there was no reason why the rest should feel the same rather than, perhaps, the opposite.

However, the private details of their nation's complicated situation should remain exactly that: private. Especially when the rest of governing bodies were counting on Norway to bring stability.

He looks for Phillip for a while before making his way to the stables, leaving the coldest and least pleasant destination for the end. But it is there where he finds him.

"Am I interrupting something?" He speaks, softly. "I don't think you should be wandering the palace alone, your highness."

open starter [ not currently capping ]

the stables

two days after the secret leak

only a few days had passed since their arrival, but phillip found himself inexplicably tired, and the constant downpour only seemed to intensify the situation. he'd slipped out after breakfast to the stables hoping to spend some time with the horses. his own horse, tyr, was not a fan of long sea journeys as he always had been and the undue stress seemed an unfair thing to do. he rubbed the neck loving of a mare whose coloring was nearly identical, though it seemed as though that might be all they shared. she was feisty and pulled at his sleeves and collar roughly, neighing in what he could have sworn was delight when she pinched him with her teeth. he swore softly and looked around for a moment finally spotting a possible solution. the prince grabbed a flake of hay and tossed it into her empty bucket. the chestnut mare quickly feigned interest in him and began to munch on her snack.

"yes, i see how it is," he told her giving her one final stroke before stepping away from her stall. the stables were mostly quiet, the sound of the rain drowning out the world around him. only the soft snorts and neighs breaking through occasionally. he stopped at another stall occupied by a gorgeous black stallion, one he couldn't help but feel didn't belong in a stable at all. "what you would give to be free, heh," he said softly as he stoked the top of the horse's nose gently. his large brown eyes unexpectedly gentle. phillip pulled an apple out of his pocket and lifted it to the horse's lips, smiling at the comfortably familiar sensation.

#.phillip

[rcgcnt]

"Good," Eirik whispers as he sees the man follow his instructions, breathing loudly himself to guide his rhythm. He waits patiently for a couple of minutes until the sultan seems to calm down — and that confirms his suspicions about the nature of his discomfort. No need to visit the infirmary, then. Perhaps the kitchens, to see if they could brew something to calm his nerves further.

"No. But my mother was a midwife, for what that is worth." As the youngest in a large family, he would often stay at home when his father was out to labor and had enough hands, bigger and stronger than his own, to help him already. While he wished he had more opportunities to sail with him while he was still able, he instead enjoyed the privilege of learning about his mother's profession. "Are you feeling better?"

The sultan. Now he starts piecing things together, with the bits of information that he has been given. A dead husband, and echoes of suspicion running rampant in his own family, that much he can remember.

"I can imagine." The quiver in his voice tells him almost everything he needs to know in the present moment. It is fortunate that it doesn't seem to be an illness of the body — but illnesses of the mind and soul aren't much more merciful.

Eirik turns towards the guards. "Your sultan needs somewhere quiet to sit down. You two may come with us." The regent's tone is firm and comanding as he guides the younger man into a nearby room. A charming little sitting room, whose door he leaves open for the others to see and listen. He doesn't need the guards to follow — in fact, their presence may be detrimental —, but it would be best for everyone to prove his honest intentions.

Helping the monarch onto a couch, he squats in front of him. "Take deep breaths. Close your eyes or hold my hand if you need to. Inhale, slowly. Now let it out."

#.rostam

[rcgcnt]

A cordial laugh follows her response. Leave it to her to see the silver lining in every situation — or not realize the gravity of it in the first place. How could he not feel responsible for preserving the innocence of one so full of brightness and joy, who lost both parents so young?

If things went well, they would not stay for long enough to get used to the food, is what he thinks, and decides to keep to himself. Instead he smiles, and takes a spoonful from his own plate, taking some time to savor the soup, a pensive frown building on his forehead. "Frankly, I have no idea what is in it," he confesses with a chuckle. He may have had tomatoes before in his trips to the warmer regions of Europe, but not often enough to remember the taste. "If you like it here, perhaps you could spend some time abroad learning the language. You would have to ask your brother about that." After all, he won't be the regent much longer.

@gloriousncss • Victoria. Lal Qila, during the storm

"I'm sorry all of you needed to be dragged into this mess as well," his own family's and Harald's alike, as representatives of the nation's government. While Eirik wasn't keen on being away from his spouse and kids, the atmosphere in the Red Fort is turbulent at best, and hostile at worst, and the youngest of the Olderburgs is a sweet, candid soul — that, ever since she lost both parents, the regent feels protective of as if she were his own daughter. "I have heard the country is beautiful, if only we were greeted with fairer weather to enjoy it. But how are you liking the palace so far? The food?"

#.victoria #.mobile

[rcgcnt]

The sultan. Now he starts piecing things together, with the bits of information that he has been given. A dead husband, and echoes of suspicion running rampant in his own family, that much he can remember.

"I can imagine." The quiver in his voice tells him almost everything he needs to know in the present moment. It is fortunate that it doesn't seem to be an illness of the body — but illnesses of the mind and soul aren't much more merciful.

Eirik turns towards the guards. "Your sultan needs somewhere quiet to sit down. You two may come with us." The regent's tone is firm and comanding as he guides the younger man into a nearby room. A charming little sitting room, whose door he leaves open for the others to see and listen. He doesn't need the guards to follow — in fact, their presence may be detrimental —, but it would be best for everyone to prove his honest intentions.

Helping the monarch onto a couch, he squats in front of him. "Take deep breaths. Close your eyes or hold my hand if you need to. Inhale, slowly. Now let it out."

"unhand the sultan!" echoes in the hallway, loud and stern from the two guards who had quickly sought out their ruler the moment eirik's hands found their shoulders. rostam raises a hand in communication although the limb feels like lead suddenly and any worry about this man harming him is quickly replaced by worry for himself; this was the first instance where he could not pass it off as indigestion or grief - it felt much more powerful than that. lack of movement ceases dizziness; the man's calm presence allows heart haphazard rest. it felt paternal, the way hands find pulse and the concern that he feels in his words. "i..." he wants to lie, to tell him that he was okay but somehow rostam felt as if the other wouldn't believe him. "i have been feeling ill for a long time..." he admits in a murmur, trying to calm his breath. "however, it normally...passes quickly. that is not the case this time." and although he wishes to lean into the touch, he recoils from it.

#.rostam

[rcgcnt]

@gloriousncss • Victoria. Lal Qila, during the storm

"I'm sorry all of you needed to be dragged into this mess as well," his own family's and Harald's alike, as representatives of the nation's government. While Eirik wasn't keen on being away from his spouse and kids, the atmosphere in the Red Fort is turbulent at best, and hostile at worst, and the youngest of the Olderburgs is a sweet, candid soul — that, ever since she lost both parents, the regent feels protective of as if she were his own daughter. "I have heard the country is beautiful, if only we were greeted with fairer weather to enjoy it. But how are you liking the palace so far? The food?"

#.victoria

[rcgcnt]

His arrival in Lal Qila had been, frankly, a little stress-inducing. He has never ventured this far east or this far south, save for a few trips accompanying the former King. He did not speak the language, or most of the languages spoken, did not recognize most faces, and he could feel the tension in the air, thick as a noxious mist. What did he agreed to? Is a question still roaming the regent's mind, as if he had had any real choice but to accept the triad's invitation.

At least Eirik does a fairly good job at concealing his incertitude, and he could confidently say he doesn't look half as bad as the young man stumbling his way through the corridors.

"Hardly, but I do not think it is I we need to worry about," he holds the other by the shoulders, only letting go briefs to find his quickened pulse on his neck. "I will accompany you to the infirmary if you need me to. Are you feeling ill?" The regent speaks softly, pressing his thumbs on the man's shoulders reassuringly.

who: rostam & open (0/2)

when: after the storm, corridors - early morning.

in the middle of a grand corridor, the persian sultan and his most trusted stand together in briefing. since the reveal of his suspicion against his brother and arshiya's betrayal of his husband's trust, he had ensured that his chambers and person be guarded at all times. it was an annoyance to him, he wished for solitude, however, he had found something akin to fire again in the depths of his soul; if his brother or his sister-in-law thought him weak, he would show them his power. "we are to keep eyes on emine at all times, if my brother can so recklessly murder a king, he will have no problem with them. cailean as well will remain under our silent protection, arshiya makes one wrong move and i give order to arrest her - are we clear?" as orders fall and people disperse, finally he's left alone; he would handle ariyan himself. however, when the sultan steps from his position, a sudden dizziness catches him off-guard and a sharp pain radiating from his chest to his shoulder makes him accidentally collide with an unsuspecting soul. "i apologize for my recklessness. i should know better than to walk with my eyes to the ground..." he lies, swallowing in hopes the dryness of his mouth would subside. "i have not harmed you, have i?"

#.rostam

[rcgcnt]

a single muse blog for - eirik sigurdsson, regent of norway. written by rawr, she/her, gmt+1

— please dni if you're not affiliated with @theopulenthq

#.pinned

[rcgcnt]

{Mads Mikkelsen, 58, he/him} We are so glad to see you safe, REGENT RULER EIRIK SIGURDSSON of NORWAY! It’s dangerous out in the world these days, but I hear that you are PERCEPTIVE and RESOURCEFUL enough to handle it. Just don’t let your REMORSE bring you down! Stay on your guard, because with your secret being at risk for exposure, you wouldn’t want everyone to find out YOU WERE BLINDLY INFATUATED WITH KING HARALD, AND KILLED A MAN FOR HIM TO PRESERVE HIS REIGN. {rawr, 28, GMT+1, she/her, no triggers}

NAME: Eirik Sigurdsson AGE: 58 GENDER / PRONOUNS: Male, he/him ORIENTATION: Bisexual, polyamorous

INSPIRATIONS: Albus Dumbl*dore (fuck jkr but it's true), Duke Leto Atreides (Dune), Obi-Wan Kenobi (Star Wars), Jadzia Dax, Chakotay (Star Trek)

• • •

FAMILY: [Three children between the ages of 21 and 30, either biological or adopted] MARITAL STATUS: [Married, WC TBA] LANGUAGES: Norwegian (native, fluent), Swedish (fluent), Danish (fluent), English (fluent), Finnish (spoken), Icelandic (spoken), German (notions)

BACKSTORY

cw emotional manipulation, toxic relationships

Eirik has never opposed the monarchy, but he has always been a man of the people, critical and outspoken. These qualities were the reason he and King Harald became friends in the first place.

The baron in charge of Eirik's hometown was sentenced for disloyalty, and stripped off his land and title. The village of Storbukt was returned to the Crown, in theory, but left abandoned in practice. Eirik's father, a fisherman and successful trader, had taken it upon himself to run the town in the absence of a ruler, when one day the King and his heir happened to visit.

From the crowd that gathered to receive the monarch emerged the youngest son of the fisherman, with words harsher than a man in his early twenties has any right to say to the highest authority of his nation.

Retribution came, but so did, in time, the changes he claimed for. Then, the letters followed. Prince Harald had taken an interest in him, and they kept in close contact for years.

When the prince took his father's place, an offer reached Eirik. He would make his father a baron, able to provide for the rest of his family and his community, if Eirik joined him in court.

He met his would-be spouse shortly after becoming valet to King Harald. It was love at first sight, and they formed a loving family. Eirik remembers fondly those years, as well as the man he used to be.

In retrospective, he can't say when exactly the king began to poison him — or how. The years blend in his memory, but as time passed, he started to spend more time with Harald, and less with his family. He went from valet to advisor, to confidant, to best friend, to accomplice. Around the king, he was a different person, and not for the better. He stopped challenging his ideas, and would not find it in himself to refuse to anything that was asked of him. Looking back now, he realizes he had always known his feelings were never requited, and he was played for a fool — but was their friendship ever genuine? Or had he been used from the start?

He is terrified to admit how relieved he was when Harald disappeared, but his shadow looms over him still. With a responsibility he never asked for, Eirik now strives to mend everything he spent years ruining: his family, his marriage... and the whole kingdom of Norway.

#theopulent.intro