Tide Of Uncertainties

Could you bless us with the tender married janaya pls 🥺

(from this post) yes of course!!!! pls go feral w me over this softness

‘I’m going to wear-‘ Amaya’s hands pause mid-air, ‘-that?’

Janai chuckles, sweeping to her wife’s side to look down at the headdress set on the vanity, put there by no doubt the maids this morning. Trying not to roll her eyes, Janai nods.

She taps Amaya’s arm until she catches her eye. ‘I know it’s...quite ornate, but it’s traditional. It’s been worn by every Queen Consort of Lux Aurea during their announcements of parturiency; I’ve never seen it in-person before, only heard stories and seen paintings of it. I have to say it’s larger, in person. I’m sorry. My advisors insisted on it.’

‘It’ll be...fun,’ Amaya says finally, biting her lip and Janai finds herself staring back at the headdress on its plinth as well.

The morning sunlight glints off the histrionic headdress. It’s wide, two-pieced and attached at the bottom to where it’s placed on the wearer’s head. The crown is the basis of the headpiece, carved intricately with swirls and circles that are natural to Lux Aurea’s architecture. A cluster of rubies sparkle from where they’re inlaid into the crest of the tiara and Amaya’s fingertips brush the jewel in the middle of the chaplet. But the headpiece isn’t just made up of the crown - atop the tiara is a band that holds innumerable, long gold rods. Each line looks like a ray of sun radiating from the coronet that gives off the illusion of a rising sun over the horizon. It’s beautiful, wieldy, and — by the way Amaya cradles it — heavy.

Janai catches the uncertain look in her wife’s eyes. With gentle fingers, she takes the crown from Amaya’s hands, allowing her to sign, and is met with a grateful glance. ‘I thought Lux Aurea liked their Queen Consorts? This looks like a form of torture. How is it supposed to stay on my head as I walk?’

‘The way I walk with my crown,’ Janai signs after setting the headpiece back down on its podium, ‘carefully. You’ll get used to it — just small, measured steps. Inclining your head slowly and keeping perfect posture while locking your neck. I guess it’s to force Queen Consorts to stand straight. Our healers say it’s better for the baby.’

At the sign for baby — crossed arms in front of her chest as if to cradle an infant — Amaya’s hands flutter across her abdomen. Janai knows that even though there’s no physical evidence of her pregnancy yet, according to both the human and elf healers they’ve seen, it won’t be long. She’s almost at eight weeks now, and Janai finds her hands just as drawn to Amaya’s abdomen even though there’s no more pronounced curve.

When Amaya looks up at her, her eyes are sparkling happily. In the crisp white of her gown against her glowing skin, both by the illumination of the sunlight and the human healer’s note about changing hormones during pregnancy, Amaya looks almost like a heavenly being, divine — a resemblance Janai knows will only increase once the headpiece is on. Suddenly, she aches to see it atop Amaya’s dark hair.

Amaya must have the same thought because the glint in her eyes increases and she’s leaning up on her tip-toes to capture Janai’s lips. Humming, Janai breaks the kiss only moments later with a light laugh.

‘You’re not getting out of the ceremony that easily.’

‘Damn,’ Amaya signs with a toothy grin before turning back to the headdress. The line of her shoulders resembles when she’s fitted in her armor for battle and Janai smiles back. ‘I can dream, though. Shall we? We are the stars of the show, after all.’

This time, Janai is the one to lift the large crown from it’s stand. She turns to face Amaya, smiling, before carefully settling it upon her head. Once she’s sure it’s secure, she steps back and takes her wife’s hand, bringing it to her mouth.

She presses her lips to Amaya’s knuckles before looking up at her. ‘All for you,’ she signs and watches how Amaya’s eyes soften. ‘Not for me. Enjoy it.’

Amaya rocks up on her toes to kiss her lips gently. The headdress wobbles on her head and Janai chuckles against her wife’s mouth.

‘Don’t drop it before we’ve even made it to the party!’

‘No guarantees,’ Amaya signs before resigning herself to the weight on her head with a sigh. She winds her arm through Janai’s when the elf offers it — setting her hand in the crook of Janai’s elbow. She pats it. ‘Ready?’

Janai chuckles lowly as she sweeps them towards the gilded double doors of their chambers. As she expected, they open without having to be touched. On either side of the archway, the Queensguard bow at the waist, crossing their wrists in front of their face to fan out their fingers before falling in line behind the two monarchs. ‘I should be asking you that.’

Based on this post by @lynnthefrenchtoast

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I needed a whole hour to understand what she meant

They're so silly

Yan Wushi and Shen Qiao! 🥰

I love this scene so much in the book and it's an amazing and very accurate art! 🥰❤🥰

Posted with permission, art by @_Konia_ on Twitter.