RP:Hot Spring Queens

From HollowWiki

Part of the Larketian Fault Lines Arc


Summary: Queen Josleen visits Queen Hildegarde in Frostmaw to catch up. In the hot springs, Josleen confides the news of her pregnancy. Soon talk turns to their respective city-states and Hildegarde reveals that she does not approve of King Macon’s treatment of witches, and wishes to offer witches refuge in Frostmaw. Josleen disproves of the idea and urges Hildegarde to talk to Macon personally.

Hot Springs, Frostmaw

Josleen , feeling increasingly isolated in her Royal bubble with Macon, decided to travel to Frostmaw on a social call. It’s a shame to only see Hildegarde, her closest friend, when called on official Thane business. And so Josleen traveled with a full escort of Larketian Kingsguard (and Gigi) to Frostmaw, perhaps the security measures a bit excessive but her husband has been extra protective of her given recent events in Larket (#witches). After the initial hellos, hugs, and small talk, the women decided to take their conversation to a private corner of the hot springs. Gigi will accompany them, of course. The dog has gotten quite fat since the last time Hildegarde saw him, waddling to and fro whenever he stands up, and getting easily winded in a game of fetch with a frost giant. To be fair, that giant threw that stick reeeaaaaaaal far. If not scolded, Gigi will wade into the cooler hot spring, which is still warm but not scalding. Ah yes, the pampered life of the Prince Pooch, exactly what he believes he deserves. Josleen dons an elegant, off-shoulder cream bathing suit and twists her hair up into a top knot to keep it dry. “Aaah, I miss these hot springs.” She relaxes against the smooth stones. “We don’t have any in Larket. It would be nice…” She tilts her head back and enjoys the way the tension and stress she didn’t realize she was carrying melts in the hot pool.


Hildegarde is always happy to see Josleen, which is why she’s more than happy to ditch her official business (which can be done later) and tend to the needs of her friend. Gigi has gone disgustingly fat. Hildegarde cannot help but think of tying him to a sled and making him run, help shift that weight off of his otherwise regal form. As Josleen speaks of Larket not having the hot springs, Hildegarde can’t fight off the little smile that threatens take hold of her face. Anything to one up Larket. While Hildegarde opts for the slightly colder pool, she does not admonish Gigi for wading into the water. Everyone and everything should enjoy the natural beauty of the springs. “Frostmaw misses you, too,” she tells the Queen of Larket. It was true. “I miss you, too.”


Josleen is very worried about Gigi’s weight, but alas, the castle staff are constantly sneaking him table scraps behind her back despite having been instructed not to. The servants cannot help it, Gigi is a charmer. He doggy paddles over to Hildegarde and pushes his head under her hand for scratches. His frou frou pompom fur is very soft thanks to the ultra-expensive dog feed Josleen buys for him. “I miss being here too. It was nice to have you close. But don’t misunderstand me, I am not complaining. I know you had reservations about Macon when I agreed to marry him, and with good reason. I hardly knew him. But…” She smiles softly, her gaze growing distant as she thinks of her husband. “I’ve been lucky. He’s good to me, and over the past few months a real love has grown between us. I wish you could see him behind closed doors, in a more casual setting. He isn’t as rough as he appears in public, when he’s performing the office of the King. His birthday is coming up. You should come celebrate with us, a small party, friends, people we trust. I think you’ll like him.”


Hildegarde smiles as Gigi doggy paddles his way over to her, seeking scratches. Hilde is more than happy to oblige! She loves animals. The Silver immediately begins to scratch Gigi’s head. It’s a good distraction from this talk of Macon being a good man, which she doesn’t believe one bit. She didn’t have to like him in order to form an alliance. But Josleen loved him… so perhaps she ought to give him a chance. “I am happy for you, that there is real love between you both,” she says softly. “How does it feel to be Queen?” she asked, having nodded away at the talk of birthday celebrations. She’ll probably show face. Begrudgingly.


Josleen grins at the question. “Is it immodest to say it feels good? Though I am not a Queen in the way that you are. I don’t govern much in the day to day of Larket. Macon is very much the King. I give my opinion, and he respects them, and I have my Queenly projects. In March we opened a youth sports complex to get teenagers off the streets and using their bodies and working in teams. I am now working on an arborium with four distinct climates. I hired a promising young storm mage and botanist named Callum to design the artificial weather and flora. I’m hoping it’ll be a place of leisure for Larketians to enjoy, and a research center for our mages and biologists. I think I prefer it this way. Macon is better suited for the hard decisions of leadership and law enforcement and all that, and I tend to the city like a garden. He’s happy to support all my projects, too. You should really give him a chance, Hilde, he really is a wonderful man. And it would mean a lot to me because…” She grins impishly at her secret, biting her lower lip as she contemplates how to break the news. “We’re not making an announcement yet, but…I’m with child.” She’s beaming, so punch drunk happy to be expecting. Gigi stretches across Hildegarde’s lap and rests his head on the stones, eyes closing dreamily. Someone ask him how it feels to be prince, woof.


Hildegarde is happy to oblige Gigi as she listens to Josleen discuss what it feels like to be a Queen. It is not a type of Queenship she knows and part of her envies Josleen. It would be good to just be the Queen who was able to work on her own personal projects, rather than run the City of War. “Those sound wondrous,” she tells her friend with honesty. Truly, they sounded good and kind. As Josleen speaks of giving Macon a chance, Hildegarde is ready to explain that she may not like him but she could try to respect him when Josleen simply announces that she is with child. The Silver is… baffled. Josleen surely cannot be pregnant? “How…?” the Silver asks quietly. Then she shakes her head, “I mean… I am beyond happy for you, truly, this must be some miracle. Oh, Jos,” Hilde tries to move slightly toward her friend, but she cannot! Gigi has claimed her lap.


Josleen can’t stop smiling. She gently strokes her own belly, proud of the little raisin therein. “I know, it is a miracle. I can’t even begin to describe the hell I went through to conceive. Made myself sick trying every cure promised by any quack—which Macon was not pleased with, when he found out. In retrospect, that was foolish of me, but I was desperate. I wanted to be a mother so terribly. There is a naga scientist named Muzo who works for us, an outright genius. He worked on the problem, ran some tests on a mule. The cure required surgery, which was absolutely terrifying. We weren’t even sure it would work, and the idea of being cut open like that…” She shudders. “But I wanted to go through with it, and well, it worked.” She’s beaming again. “I’m so excited to meet this child! But we’re not making any announcements yet, as things have been a bit shaky in Larket, outside the castle.” Pun unintended.


Hildegarde listens intently, curious to see how this miracle was achieved. A scientist? A mule? Experiments? It seems so… queer. Hildegarde cannot sympathise with Josleen’s desire to be a mother, but she can understand that some people are simply like this. It seems that asking too many questions about it will only burst Josleen’s bubble of happiness. “Well… I am happy for you,” she said with a smile. “Do you wish for a boy or a girl?”


Josleen literally squeals (very low) in the back of her throat, barely audible, but that really happened. “I don’t have a preference, though Macon’s mother insists on a boy.” She rolls her eyes. “She’s an insufferable woman. Harmless, but what a nag. I find her so tiring! Gods it feels good to get that off my chest. That woman...” Deep breath. “Oh and she has this ridiculous nickname for Macon which I really don’t care for.” Josleen shakes her head in disapproval, “But I don’t have a preference, and neither does Macon. Though I confess the reason I don’t have a preference is because I hope to have more than one!” She laughs. “I teased Macon that I want four, expecting him to be overwhelmed by the thought for four, but no, he said ‘so be it’ and seems just as keen to have a big family.” She grins into the back of her knuckles as though that delicate gesture could possibly hide how smitten she is. Strange to think that as Larket wrestles with regular riots and protests, Josleen is so far removed from all that the only thing on her mind is her husband and unborn child. She’s increasingly isolated from the world of gravel and blood and cocooned in silks and nectar.


Hildegarde has a feeling in the back of her mind. A feeling that she’s judging the woman before her and she doesn’t like it. It’s a horrible feeling. “Well, I am pleased for you both!” She can’t bring herself to ask whether or not this will mean more experiments. She doesn’t want to think of how unnatural it is. “I can’t say I know of gifts fit for a royal baby… I’ll have to think on this,” she muses aloud. Josleen | “Something from the heart that the baby can cherish all its life,” Josleen says sweetly with a genuine smile. “Alright, that’s enough about me.” Yes, please, someone cut her off because she can easily become a broken record about how happy she is to be pregnant. It was a hard-won battle against nature and mother-in-laws to get here. “How are things in Frostmaw? The Feast of Gostaragov is soon, isn’t it? How is the city faring?” Josleen is very out of the loop.


Hildegarde offered a faint smile at the mention of a heartfelt gift for the baby. What do babies usually get in Frostmaw? Baby’s first dirk? Baby’s first club? Likely not appropriate for a child of Josleen, let’s just leave it there. As she’s asked about Frostmaw, Hildegarde shrugs her burly shoulder and allows her head to loll back for a moment. “Things are ever turbulent. This… This substance is kicking around and it’s hurting people badly. I feel like there are whispers everywhere and I cannot pinpoint it. Lionel is off with troops, training once again, so I do not have my right hand man to help me keep things entirely under wraps.” It was stressful work managing a kingdom with a reputation quite like Frostmaw’s. “I can feel something evil stirring, Jos,” she tells her quietly, “I feel it in my bones.” When asked about the feast, Hildegarde offered her a little smile. It was nice to think about the feast. “Aye, just over two weeks from now, I believe. Preparations are underway.” Hildegarde waits a moment, shifting uncomfortably in the water. It is evident something has been weighing on her mind. “Jos… Can I talk to you for a moment about something I heard?” The knight knows Josleen will indulge her, because it does sound a tad gossipy and Josleen will certainly go for that. Hilde never gossips, so it must be juicy! “I have heard things about witches in Larket being locked away. Made to work in a camp of some kind? I know you have had a bad history with witches, but… I don’t know. It doesn’t sit well with me. I would like to offer refuge to your witches.”


Josleen frowns at the mention of Lionel being abroad at a time like this, and the substance in Frostmaw, which she had vaguely heard about but not in great detail. She’s about to ask more about that when Hildegarde changes the subject. Rumor? Josleen sits up attentively, but soon her posture sags back against the rocks and she sighs. “Hilde,” she’s already shaking her head. “No one is forcing witches to work at the camp. In fact, non-witches also work there. And everyone who works and lives there chooses to do so.” Sure, that is true, but it is also because anti-witch bias has gotten so bad in Larket that it is, for many witches, their only source of employment and shelter. What choice do they have when Kyla won’t hire a witch to even bus tables? “And yes, the entrance is highly monitored by guards, because frankly these days anytime witches congregate one or two bad apples sneak in among the law-abiding ones and protest, or worse. In fact, the camp has already had a riot that resulted in fatal casualties. There -is- a violent element within the witch community, and while I am not saying all witches are bad--not at all--to deny that there is a criminal element among them for the sake of being politically correct endangers the lives of Larketians, both witches and non-witches.” Macon’s Queen is very on-message, but the passion with which Josleen speaks suggests she believes what she says. Her intention is not to deceive Hildegarde, but speak what she believes to be true, which is heavily influenced by what Macon believes to be true. “If you offer refuge to witches, you’ll only embolden the voices critical of Macon and he won’t be pleased. There is an alliance between Frostmaw and Larket to consider, and criticizing his policy publicly puts a strain on that.”


Hildegarde was not sure what sort of response she had been expecting. Had she expected Josleen to be happy at this offer to take the witches away? “Surely you can spin in it in some way that your lord husband will benefit?” Meaning to say that she is well aware of Josleen’s fantastical bardic skills and her charm. “Surely, you can say that Larket has strong armed Frostmaw into this and that’ll placate your subjects.” The Silver does not wish to let the witches go without a fight in their corner. “Whilst I am sure there are bad apples in the bunch and that this camp is likely for their safety,” she’s not too sure on that one, “I can imagine that some want to escape the hostility. Besides, it’ll help that Eyrie outpost in Larket get some use besides trade, won’t it? Free passage and “re-homing” in Frostmaw.”


Josleen’s nose wrinkles as Hildegarde suggests the bard spin the narrative. “But why do you want this? Do you not believe witches were behind the earthquake that killed hundreds? Or behind the child abductions in Venturil? At least one murder in Larket? The riot on my public birthday celebration, at which they burned effigies of the King and I, a direct threat? And the more recent riot at the camp? Oh and they also demolished the foundation of my mother-in-law’s estate and graffitied the walls with Macon and my likeness, beheaded and naked, more direct threats. If you offer them refuge, then you see them as the victims of a cruel regime, regardless of what the public story may be. I would know that’s how you see it. So I ask, do you not believe witches are behind these terrible acts?”


Hildegarde watched as Josleen’s nose wrinkled. She knew that was not a good sign. “I do not think they are behind every evil that has befallen you or the people of the realm,” she says gently. “Yes, there are bad witches out there. There are bad dragons out there, but would you say I ought to join a camp for my safety if all the dragons were entering a camp…? Come, Josleen, you yourself have said that there is but a few bad apples in the bunch.” The knight was very clearly against this regime. “It just does not sit well with me.”


Josleen frowns at the analogy. “Witches are not being forced into the camp. They elect to join. And if you want to help the witches, then perhaps there can be an alternate route to doing so that you can discuss with Macon. Top of mind, not a re-homing, but perhaps some work opportunities, witches who qualify for certain jobs can move abroad, to Frostmaw, for that job.” Fewer witches will be moved this way too. “That can go in hand with a pledge to work with Larket to protect the vulnerable while still being tough on criminals, witches or not. Or, another idea, maybe a donation to a Larker-based charity to help unemployed, law-abiding witches with housing and other basic needs. It would have to be in Larket to not seem as critical of the King. But ultimately this would have to be negotiated with Macon, not me. He’s the final word.”


Hildegarde raised her hand ever so slightly, as if to offer peace, “I did not say forced in my example, Jos,” but she wouldn’t dispute the point. As Josleen states that Macon has the final word on the matter, Hildegarde sighed softly. “Very well. I’ll speak to your lord husband about it,” not that she much enjoyed discussing things with him. They always, oddly, took an angry turn.


Josleen’s lips stiffen into a straight line. “Why do you keep doing that? Why do you keep calling him my ‘lord husband’ in that way?” Sure, lord husband is an honorific, but the way Hildegarde uses it in a more casual setting sounds to Josleen (and she may be wrong) like a criticism of the nature of her relationship with Macon, one in which he seems to have a lot more power. “I know you do not like him, and you govern Frostmaw differently, but Frostmaw has a different culture and different threats. And as your Thane, I advise you, but your word has always been and will always be final. It is the same with Macon. I wish you could come to see him as I do: a good man of strong character and will who must make the best decisions from, as you yourself know, a choice of only bad or worse options.” She inhales and exhales deeply and her head shakes a little still as if in agitation, her mouth tight as if biting down on words unspoken.


Hildegarde has her turn of stiff lips and a wrinkling nose. “I call him such because I do not wish to call him by his name. It’s a respectful title, Jos, I mean no offense by it,” but calling him Macon all the time only humanised him in ways she didn’t wish to. “But I know you wish for me to make an effort. I will do so. I’ll speak to Macon,” she says finally. It is unlikely Hildegarde would ever view him just as Josleen did. “Ruling is not easy. Justice is harder.”


Josleen leaves it at that. Perhaps Macon can be more convincing than she has been, though that is unlikely. “Indeed. Well, I am glad you will meet with him. I am pruning and hungry. Shall we go?” Gigi has fallen asleep in Hildegarde’s lap.


Hildegarde gestures for Josleen to vacate the hot spring, “Certainly,” if Gigi does not wake and move from her lap when she attempts to go, Hildegarde will have the pleasure of carrying the doggy prince.