Coronation

Nov. 3rd, 2025 10:58 pm
featheredflames: (4)
[personal profile] featheredflames
It is all far too much attention for Joshua's liking.

He knew this was how it would be, that there would be a certain amount of fussing the be expected...but this was beyond the scope of acceptable fussing surely. So much unnecessary commotion over a fitting of ceremonial robes that he wouldn't wear more than a handful of times at that... Would it not be better to spend time focusing on the clothing he would be draped in when he finally dawned his father's mantle? The day-to-day wear that he would need to sport as Archduke of Rosaria.

That would come later, in time, he had been reassured. This outfit would get at least a few days of wear out of it. The ceremony was to last more than a singular evening, festivities dragging on for nearly a week after the event of the coronation itself. Already Joshua feels weary at the thought. Fancy suppers and meeting with dignitaries were in his future but right now his present reality was a miserable one. Fabric is cinched around his waist as measurements are taken and pins are adjusted. He feels like a doll as he's fitted, made to stand for bells on end. Founder he could only hope that some semblance of reprieve would find him soon, hopefully before his knees gave out...

Swallowing he stares out the window, doing his best not to move as the tailors do their work as quickly as they can. It would be unfair if he told them to stop - they were only doing as they had been instructed to, to rework and refit the robes his father wore on his crowning day. Joshua cannot help but think they don't suit him - Clive would wear (and fit!) them far better than he. Yet it was tradition...and while he may be able to escape the tailors ere long, there was no escaping protocol and the duty that loomed over him.

Date: 2026-03-29 12:37 pm (UTC)
flamebrand: sousaphone. (133.)
From: [personal profile] flamebrand
They both ask for so little from a world that demands so much of them, but that's the way of things. Clive can tell that Joshua is starting to fade, however, and understandably so― it's been a long day, not to mention that the past moon has been dedicated to preparation and practice. Joshua must be exhausted.

"You did most of the work. I only stood and scowled."

Making sure that the blankets are snug around them, Clive settles his weight on their now slightly-rumpled bed.

"...I'll speak to Lord Murdoch in the morning about giving you the day to rest. The others should be too busy sleeping the ale out of themselves to mind terribly."

Date: 2026-03-31 01:29 am (UTC)
flamebrand: sousaphone. (200.)
From: [personal profile] flamebrand
Joshua is grown now. An Archduke. But the way he folds into Clive is no different from when they were children, and Clive holds to that feeling of evergreen affection for his source of perpetual strength. Now and forever.

"My brother's worst enemy," he murmurs fondly. "The morning sun."

With everything that Joshua is bade to do during the day, he deserves to be a bit fussy before he's forced to leave his bed. A gentle kiss for Joshua's trouble, and Clive pats him between his shoulders.

"Rest, Joshua. I'll be here with you in the morning."

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Joshua Rosfield

December 2025

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