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VALKYRIE
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HONEY, YOU SHOULD
full name valkyrie vimmand
siblings altair and capella
friends turias, capella, gaia
enemies altair, amara, psyon, castor
neutral polaris and solace
crush nobody yet
tagged altair, capella, gaia
SEE ME IN A CROWN !
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CENTAURI
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the galaxies flew past her window in a blur of stars and light. for somebody who had not grown up accustomed to the sheer scope of the universe, the insignificance of each one — home to countless planets and living beings, all too absorbed in their own problems to realize just how little any of it mattered — might have been breathtaking and devastating. but valkyrie had spent her childhood with solar systems in her backyard, accessible by a simple request and a short ride in her father’s personal spacecraft; had read books about astronauts and starships and new worlds that were literally new worlds. and she’d awaited a moment like this for years, ever since the moment she’d decided that she wanted the crown. but oh, not just any old crown; no, being a princess would never be enough. she wanted the crown of centauri. and now? with this new opportunity, the crown was suddenly in her reach. the crown of the universe. all of a sudden, the throne of one measly little planet wasn’t enough for her ever-growing appetite for power. there was just one small obstacle in her way. and by obstacle she meant person, but to her they were one and the same: her brother altair. once upon a time they’d been close. that was before valkyrie had found her ambition. and if altair ever wondered at why his little sister had grown so distant so abruptly, if he ever felt longing or regret at the loss of their old bond, well, he never showed it. which meant that valkyrie herself was no longer obliged to feel the guilt she once had, back when she was still young and was actually capable of feeling such things.
now, hands in her lap and eyes on altair, valkyrie’s face was a cold, hard mask. some might have described it as soulless. she preferred to think of it as queenly. and to be fair, there was something regal in her face: shocking, pure blue eyes, a nose straight and strong, and a sharp jawline, all set on top of a long, proudly arched neck. and her dress, created by none other than centauri’s finest tailors; a tight-fitting black bodice hugged her slim torso and left her shoulders bare to the elements. gold embroidery sprawled across it with no expenses spared, thick enough that she could feel each individual threat when she ran her finger over it, vines and leaves and swirls catching the light with every movement that she made. below her hips, the dress flared out, where it proceeded down the length of her legs in cascades upon cascades upon luxurious black fabric. and it continued past them, too, pooling on the ground around her feet. somebody shorter than she would have been all but swimming in all the fabric: the young woman’s height, already formidable, had been further accented with a pair of heels that put her at six feet even— as tall as any man. truly, the second heir to centauri’s throne was a sight to behold. but while she met and surpassed every traditional standard of beauty, there was a certain spark in her eyes, or rather a lack of one, that made valkyrie fall just short of gorgeous. they said that the eyes were the windows to the soul? well, then they were right, and the striking princess didn’t have one, regardless of what she preferred to call it. power was what she was here for; power, and fame, and glory. glory and glory and glory, glory like she’d never achieve if she remained content as a mere figurehead of a princess.
she looked up as a pair of vagaens entered, here for altair. of course, for altair. two more entered after them, one for her and one for capella, but valkyrie paid neither any attention as she watched the centaurian crown get placed upon her brother’s head. she narrowed her eyes slightly even as she felt somebody tuck her own crown into her raven-dark hair; it was like adding insult to injury, having to watch the true crown go to altair while she felt her own ridiculous mockery’s weight on her head. a tiara was what it was, a toy for little peasant girls who played dress-up. she felt like ripping it off and dashing it to pieces on the ground right then and there. because valkyrie was neither a peasant, nor did she consider herself to be a girl anymore. she was a grown woman now at nineteen years old, or so she liked to tell herself, and it was time to do something about her little altair problem.
speaking of which… “we’ll be landing soon,” he said in his first words to them in what must have been weeks.
valkyrie cast capella a sideways glance once his back was turned. “his majesty deigns to grace us with his voice,” she muttered under her breath to the other girl. just as valkyrie and altair had become nothing short of enemies, there was no lost love between him and capella, either. it made a nice rallying point, actually, so she couldn’t complain. and valkyrie would always have a use for somebody as smart as her sister on her side. she allowed the younger girl to pass in front of her before trailing after both of her siblings, hearing the door to the spacecraft shut behind her as she passed into the domitian daylight. her first impression? it’s blinding. and it wasn’t just the adjustment from the artificial lighting of the ship to the natural sunlight of the capital planet; a wave of white was what greeted her eyes when she looked down, down, down past the bridge and the waterfall. hordes upon hordes of domitians, looking up at them — at her — and cheering. she smiled— a fleeting, quick curve of her lips, but genuine. because the only thing that could get genuine joy out of valkyrie? this. attention, adoration, fame, whatever you would call this.
she’d practiced walking in this dress, knew just how to move so that she didn’t trip over the countless folds of fabric, knew how to take advantage of that fact and glide with the fabric fanning out behind her like they did in the movies. with swift grace she took her place in the group standing in the center of the bridge, next to a boy who looked rather lost [she filed his face for a later time when she might be able to exploit this weakness] and a girl whose fearless expression elicited a grudging sort of respect from valkyrie. “beautiful,” she agreed in response to her query. looking the other princess up and down with a cool but not unfriendly eye, she added after a beat, “I’m valkyrie, by the way. centauri. you?”