so i published my first ever fic back in 2014, the golden age of wattpad, about kol mikaelson. let me put this out, i was like 13/14?? and god i was not good at writing - i've been rereading my old drafts and they're so bloody cringe
that and the entire plot was a overdone cliche of mikaelson fanfiction but tbh all my fics are overdone cliches at that point whoops
anyway, i have rewritten this fic like three times in but left it from about 2016 because i was like nah fuck this and i just left it up with 3 published chapters
but now i'm like ooo yes hi hello kol and i'm rejuving the fic. i'm kinda sick of doing them where they haven't met and fall in love etc so it's like slightly AU ish and essentially it's an ex but then almost like them finding their way (albeit violently) back to each other? hmm who knows
idk tho if u like kol check it out thank u x
also i feel like my author's notes are becoming progressively longer and i think it's bc i don't update for like a week so i feel like i've got so much to tell u!! cos we're all friends here hun x
btwi now have an Instagram for like editing and stuff (ayyy yess including TLK and ya boi Finan) so if you're interested please check it out, it's magnificentmedici x
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enjoy x
word count; 1309
Rosamund
Edward knew me to be true to my word, thankfully, but the recindation of Owain's army led to my husband's violence increasing. Not against me, no, but his anger, on the other hand, was directed towards the only vessel that he believed would allow it - me.
"That-- that weak coward, Edward, thinks he can just give and take with his allies!" Owain paced the room, hands on his lower hips and a stark frown that shock even the devil himself. "He's arroagant, like his father," My husband ranted, stopping as he spoke again. We locked eyes and his frown deepened, "I won't have it. I am a King!"
"A King without a kingdom," I spoke, eyeing him with suspicion. "It is an unequal position."
"Well, if I--" He stopped himself with a huff. "When I retake Gwynedd, I'll show that, that child!, who has the power on this island."
"How odd," I commented, gaining a sycopantic scoff from Owain. "You are much like Arculf," His expression remained unchanged by the mention of my murdered sibling - likely as a result of Owain's endevouring belief in my ignorance. "He, too, could not control his emotions."
"I can control them," Owain retorted with a spat,
"Clearly," I muttered, leaning back in my position. He parted his lips to speak but was promptly interrupted as the chamber door swung open, Uhtred's head peeking between the gap that he had made.
"For Christ's sake, what do you want?" Owain snapped, looking at the Dane with a glare of animosity. Owain's language was blasphemous but of little suprirse to myself or Uhtred. After all, my husband was rumoured to be the devil's accomplice.
"I need to speak to the Queen," Uhtred spoke confidently. He looked to me as he said it, knowing Owain would have little influence over my actions.
"Need?" Owain scoffed, looking to me. "It seems all men do," He murmured, insinuating his permission was given. Not that I needed it -- when had I ever needed a man's permission?
Standing, I walked past my husband and greeted Uhtred with a warm smile, exiting my chambers with haste.
"As you can tell, Owain grows restless," I commented, looking up to the towering man. "What is it, Uhtred?"
"Oh, nothing," He shrugged, a smirk forming upon his lips. "Finan just thought you'd like an escape from Owain."
Scoffing, my reply was quick-witted. "Does he assume I have no escapisms of my own?"
Uhtred's smirk grew, "I have no doubt Finan himself is one of them."
I spoke once more, feeling my lips curl into a smile as I did. "You are witty, Uhtred, but I do not find it funny."
- - -
"It was you, wasn't it?" I asked, feeling my anger flare up at the Irishman who stood before me. "You killed him."
"Rosamund-" Finan put his hands up defensively but I shook my head and took a step back, feeling my chest rise and fall with rapid succession.
"I told you not to do it and you murdered him anyway!" I exclaimed, my breath quickening and my emotion rising. As much as I hated Owain, as much as I wished him to be gone - Finan had fundamentally gone against me, in action, in mind, in body -- in spirit. I could not forgive him for his indiscrections -- which I would likely be implicated in.
"I-"
"You do not get a say in this," I growled, cutting him off as quickly as he pronounced the first syllabelle. "I was the Queen! How will it look if they realise it was you? If they realise my husband was murdered? I will be implicated no doubt and you will be hung for the... the traitor that you are!"
"I-"
"I said you do not get a say," I cut him off once more, a low growl rising from my throat."And what's worse," I spoke, "What's worse, is that you expressly went against me! You went against not only the woman you love but a woman far superior in station. A woman you should respect. Whose orders you should respect."
As I tried to recover my breath, Finan spoke with a tone of confidence. But his expression told a different, sadder story.
"I did it for you."
"That was not your decision to make, Finan!" I shouted, feeling infuriated. I paced the room, knowing the parallels between myself and Owain at such moments to be ironic. "Leave me."
"Rosamund, please,"
"I will hear no more of it." I said, snapping at him as we locked eyes. "And I vow to you, Finan, I would not be with you now even if it was ordained by the Almighty himself."
I woke in a frantic, cold sweat that not even God himself could shake out of me. It was moments like these I was thankful that I no longer lived in Aquitaine -- they would, no doubt, deem me insane.
Nonetheless, I was still unfortunate enough to share a bed with my husband. As much as we shared a mutual hatred for each other, he still needed an heir and I was still his legitimate, lawful wife. I would be for as long as we both lived.
He woke, too, upon hearing my franticness and - much to my suprise, left me to find some cure for my hysteria. He returned only minutes later with a small goblet, filled with a clear liquid that I presumed to be water.
"Thank you," I smiled weakly, drinking it all down hastily before handing it back to him. But as we both returned to our sleep, I couldn't quite get the image of his expression out of my mind. That smirk that had curled his lips upwards was eerie and reminded me somewhat of a demon. I told myself I was being foolish. I told myself he wouldn't dare do anything here, in Winchester.
But, God knows, I'd never been one for decision making minutes after waking up. I should've thought it through. I should've questioned it. I should've done something -- anything!
