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The days since her wedding had all blended together into a blur for the new Queen, a chaotic mess of warring emotion and crippling responsibility. First expecting to become a baroness, then suddenly a princess, then a Queen, all within such a short time… Theodora wasn’t prepared for any of this, and now that she had it, she scarce knew what to do with it. To become Queen had always been a distant dream, one that fantasized about the luxury and attention, not one who would soon be left alone in wartime. She hardly knew what to do with all of this nervous energy, and so she decided to put into something productive, something tangible and thoughtful that could help her husband in the times to come.
She was going to give him a gift, specifically a sword. Achilleas was a practical man, and she doubted some broad romantic gesture would go very far, even if she attempted it. A sword, on the other hand, was useful, particularly on the brink of war. It was something she could do to show she cared, while also doing something that would help to keep him safe when he was away from her. Their situation was hardly ideal, but this, at least, she thought, could give her some peace of mind.
Clad in a beautifully made chiton of striking scarlet, a delicate golden himation was held in place by fibulae in the shapes of lions’ heads, and rubies sparkled in her ears. Elaborate coifed hair was accentuated by the laurel crown she wore, accoutrement she couldn’t really forgo when she went out into public. Even if she would have preferred some obscurity as she walked down to the agora, she knew it was important for the people to see their Queen among them, to take heart from her presence as they marched forward into such uncertain times. She was all smiles and charm as she made her way to the blacksmith’s forge, a pair of sharp-eyed guards tailing her at a close distance. She would have liked to come alone, but she knew such things were impossible now, and so she hadn’t argued. At least these men were quiet and respectful, and really, that was all she could ask for.
Approaching the forge, Theodora was buffered by the sudden heat, the loud clangs of hammers against metal ringing in her ears. “Excuse me,” she called out politely, waving her hand to get someone, anyone’s attention. She didn’t want to startle them from their work, but it wasn’t like she could just walk up and start cutting the blade herself. “Can someone help me, please?”
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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The days since her wedding had all blended together into a blur for the new Queen, a chaotic mess of warring emotion and crippling responsibility. First expecting to become a baroness, then suddenly a princess, then a Queen, all within such a short time… Theodora wasn’t prepared for any of this, and now that she had it, she scarce knew what to do with it. To become Queen had always been a distant dream, one that fantasized about the luxury and attention, not one who would soon be left alone in wartime. She hardly knew what to do with all of this nervous energy, and so she decided to put into something productive, something tangible and thoughtful that could help her husband in the times to come.
She was going to give him a gift, specifically a sword. Achilleas was a practical man, and she doubted some broad romantic gesture would go very far, even if she attempted it. A sword, on the other hand, was useful, particularly on the brink of war. It was something she could do to show she cared, while also doing something that would help to keep him safe when he was away from her. Their situation was hardly ideal, but this, at least, she thought, could give her some peace of mind.
Clad in a beautifully made chiton of striking scarlet, a delicate golden himation was held in place by fibulae in the shapes of lions’ heads, and rubies sparkled in her ears. Elaborate coifed hair was accentuated by the laurel crown she wore, accoutrement she couldn’t really forgo when she went out into public. Even if she would have preferred some obscurity as she walked down to the agora, she knew it was important for the people to see their Queen among them, to take heart from her presence as they marched forward into such uncertain times. She was all smiles and charm as she made her way to the blacksmith’s forge, a pair of sharp-eyed guards tailing her at a close distance. She would have liked to come alone, but she knew such things were impossible now, and so she hadn’t argued. At least these men were quiet and respectful, and really, that was all she could ask for.
Approaching the forge, Theodora was buffered by the sudden heat, the loud clangs of hammers against metal ringing in her ears. “Excuse me,” she called out politely, waving her hand to get someone, anyone’s attention. She didn’t want to startle them from their work, but it wasn’t like she could just walk up and start cutting the blade herself. “Can someone help me, please?”
The days since her wedding had all blended together into a blur for the new Queen, a chaotic mess of warring emotion and crippling responsibility. First expecting to become a baroness, then suddenly a princess, then a Queen, all within such a short time… Theodora wasn’t prepared for any of this, and now that she had it, she scarce knew what to do with it. To become Queen had always been a distant dream, one that fantasized about the luxury and attention, not one who would soon be left alone in wartime. She hardly knew what to do with all of this nervous energy, and so she decided to put into something productive, something tangible and thoughtful that could help her husband in the times to come.
She was going to give him a gift, specifically a sword. Achilleas was a practical man, and she doubted some broad romantic gesture would go very far, even if she attempted it. A sword, on the other hand, was useful, particularly on the brink of war. It was something she could do to show she cared, while also doing something that would help to keep him safe when he was away from her. Their situation was hardly ideal, but this, at least, she thought, could give her some peace of mind.
Clad in a beautifully made chiton of striking scarlet, a delicate golden himation was held in place by fibulae in the shapes of lions’ heads, and rubies sparkled in her ears. Elaborate coifed hair was accentuated by the laurel crown she wore, accoutrement she couldn’t really forgo when she went out into public. Even if she would have preferred some obscurity as she walked down to the agora, she knew it was important for the people to see their Queen among them, to take heart from her presence as they marched forward into such uncertain times. She was all smiles and charm as she made her way to the blacksmith’s forge, a pair of sharp-eyed guards tailing her at a close distance. She would have liked to come alone, but she knew such things were impossible now, and so she hadn’t argued. At least these men were quiet and respectful, and really, that was all she could ask for.
Approaching the forge, Theodora was buffered by the sudden heat, the loud clangs of hammers against metal ringing in her ears. “Excuse me,” she called out politely, waving her hand to get someone, anyone’s attention. She didn’t want to startle them from their work, but it wasn’t like she could just walk up and start cutting the blade herself. “Can someone help me, please?”