Queen Alvina Draewynn

History

Alvina, a war heroine from the Abyss Wars, caught Xaverius's attention with her unwavering strength and devotion to Hawk. Their relationship began with a passionate affair that led to her becoming his queen. Alvina’s love for Xaverius is intense and possessive, with her loyalty never wavering despite the complexities of their court life. Their marriage is characterized by mutual respect and deep, if somewhat obsessive, affection.

Commonalities & Shared Interests

Both Alvina and Xaverius share a strong sense of duty and an appreciation for strength and loyalty. They are united by their belief in the importance of power, whether it is through military might or political influence. Alvina’s dedication to protecting Xaverius mirrors his desire to maintain control over his kingdom, making them a formidable pair both in court and in battle.

History

Georgette has never forgiven Alvina for believing righteousness grants permission to judge, nor has Alvina ever forgiven Georgette for staining miracles with logic and blood. To Georgette, Alvina is a zealot who mistakes sacrifice for sanctity, who cloaks the will to control in the language of faith, then dares call others heretics for refusing to bow. Their earliest clashes came not in the throne room but in the nursery, when Alvina tried to “bless” Georgette’s first child and Georgette responded by warding the door with a glyph that burned prayers to ash. Every conversation since has been a war between altars—Alvina with her spear kissed by Hawk, Georgette with her voidborn scrawlings that rewrite soulcode. Alvina sees Georgette as a tragic fall from grace, a sister in faith who dove too deep and drowned in power without tether to doctrine. Georgette, in contrast, believes Alvina never left the shallows of her belief long enough to find the deeper truths—truths that burn, but reveal.

Nicknames & Petnames

To her apprentices, Georgette refers to Alvina as The Icon, not with reverence, but as a hollow statue—worshipped, immovable, and ultimately obsolete. In laboratory ledgers and private grimoires, she sometimes abbreviates her as ASH—short for “Alvina Sanctified Husk,” a reference to how she believes Alvina has hollowed herself out in pursuit of divine approval. Alvina, in return, calls Georgette The Unblessed, a term that drips with both pity and warning, used often in sermons where she speaks of “those who wield lightless power with unclean hands.” In private to her crusaders, she mutters Soulforger, implying Georgette’s crimes are not just arcane but cosmological—falsifying the order of life itself. Neither name is ever used in court. Yet both are spoken like prayers in their own sanctums: one of defiance, the other of dread.

Relationship Reasoning

Georgette believes Alvina’s worship blinds her to the machinery beneath reality—that she’s so desperate to preserve moral clarity that she ignores the systems rotting behind the veil. She views Alvina’s faith as fragile theater: orderly hymns masking a terror of chaos so profound it must call anything unknown "evil" to feel safe. Alvina, on the other hand, sees Georgette’s intellect as cancerous brilliance—a mind once devoted to protection now consumed by the hunger to surpass the gods themselves. She believes Georgette perverts sacrifice into experimentation, faith into manipulation, and worst of all, motherhood into invention. They both consider themselves guardians of the king’s legacy—but where Alvina guards his soul, Georgette engineers his survival. Each thinks the other is betraying the crown… just through opposite definitions of what is sacred.

History

Sabina first saw Alvina as a thunderclap in human form—uncompromising, over-decorated in righteousness, and maddeningly immune to subtlety. Where Sabina softened the king’s heart over years of suggestion, Alvina won his loyalty with battlefield scars and sacred fire. To Sabina, this wasn’t romance—it was conquest by another name. Alvina, for her part, saw Sabina as poison in perfume: patient, pretty, and ultimately fatal to anything pure. Their clash was never loud; it didn’t need to be. One fought in whispers and winks, the other in decrees and glares—and both believed themselves the rightful moral compass of the crown.

Nicknames & Petnames

Sabina called Alvina “The Martyr Queen” in private circles—a woman who bled for applause and mistook guilt for piety. She even commissioned a children’s song mocking the Night Order’s grim oaths, buried among the capital’s lullabies. Alvina, meanwhile, had her own dagger-word: “Witchweaver,” used to imply Sabina’s soft tyranny and her subtle corruptions of court memory. Among her crusader allies, she sometimes invoked Sabina as “The Fox in the Choir,” a predator disguised as piety. They weaponized words like they wore their dresses: perfectly cut, carefully aimed. Their nicknames were masks made of truth, worn so often they began to resemble the women beneath.

Relationship Reasoning

Sabina believes Alvina is too inflexible to lead in a world that requires compromise. She views the other queen’s morality as a brittle sword—sharp, yes, but liable to snap at the first twist of realpolitik. Alvina, meanwhile, sees Sabina as a coward masquerading as a diplomat—someone who folds when she should fight, and dresses cowardice in the name of peace. Each woman wants to protect the king, but their definitions of “protection” differ like stone and fog. Sabina shields him from chaos through control; Alvina shields him from corruption through clarity. And somewhere between them, the king grows colder—shaped not by either woman’s arms, but by the friction between their ambitions.

History

Their rivalry wasn’t forged through politics or inheritance—it was born in the crucible of war, where each woman proved her worth not with favors, but with corpses and command. Aillsa respected Alvina once, long ago, when both bled for a kingdom that didn’t yet know their names. But that respect curdled the day Alvina traded her spear for a chapel crown, binding herself not just to the king but to a sanctity Aillsa found performative and impractical. Alvina began invoking oaths while Aillsa was still tallying supply lines and sealing troop wounds; to Aillsa, it was a betrayal of the blunt edge of war. Alvina, meanwhile, watched Aillsa drift further into cruelty-for-efficiency, losing the soul behind the sword. Each believes the other abandoned the purity of their shared beginnings—just in opposite directions.

Nicknames & Petnames

Aillsa calls her “Vowblood,” not as a compliment, but as a reminder that Alvina would rather swear before acting than do what must be done. In private war journals, she’s labeled her “The Bellringer,” referencing Alvina’s need to summon spiritual pageantry before every maneuver. Alvina, in return, has referred to Aillsa as “The Scourge of Sons,” a bitter nod to how many young soldiers Aillsa spent in pursuit of clean victories. Among her clergy, she sometimes speaks of Aillsa as “The Iron-Hearted,” a woman whose armor reached so deep it suffocated compassion itself. Both names are daggers wrapped in silk—ceremonial, but no less deadly for it. The nicknames do not sting because they are cruel; they sting because they are earned.

Relationship Reasoning

Aillsa believes Alvina has diluted the warrior’s creed into a sermon, making every military decision pass through a filter of divine permission. To her, war does not wait for prayers—it answers only to precision, and delay is treason. Alvina, by contrast, sees Aillsa as a machine that cannot stop sharpening herself, even when there’s no threat left to cut. She believes Aillsa is addicted to movement, to war for war’s sake, masking grief behind logistics and rage. Both women love the kingdom—but where Alvina sees it as a garden to be tended with care, Aillsa sees it as a fortress that must never crack, even if it means mortar made from bone. Their loyalty is mutual—but their definition of service is oil and fire.

History

Alvina watched Safinnia with the same expression she wore before entering a battlefield—calm, wary, determined not to underestimate her. At first, she thought the pirate queen was just another storm to ride out, a tantrum with boots and saltwater in her blood. But as years passed and Safinnia remained unbent, Alvina began to wonder if perhaps faith and fire weren’t the only paths to devotion. Safinnia, for her part, hated Alvina’s possessive loyalty—the way she wrapped her love in chains and called it sacred duty. Their interactions were a duel of ideologies dressed in court etiquette, each word a parry, each silence a feint. They respected one another’s strength—what they loathed was the shape that strength had taken.

Nicknames & Petnames

Alvina referred to Safinnia simply as “The Defector” in conversations with the King—never loudly, but always clearly. When pressed, she’d say it like a sad truth: “She could’ve been a crusader, but chose to be a storm.” Safinnia, on the other hand, used “Shackleheart” when speaking of Alvina, describing her as someone who kissed her own chains and called it romance. Among her old pirate crew, Safinnia dubbed Alvina “The Chapel Blade”—a weapon dressed in vows. Occasionally, she’d call her “Miss Saintblood” to her face, just soft enough to pass for courtesy. These were not endearments, but survival flares sent from opposing shores.

Relationship Reasoning

Alvina sees duty as sacred—even when it hurts. To her, Safinnia’s resistance is selfishness painted as freedom, a refusal to bear the burden of unity. Safinnia, by contrast, sees Alvina as someone who traded her soul for a cage with gold trim—respected, loved, and utterly not free. Each queen believes the other is dangerous to the succession: Alvina thinks Safinnia’s dissent will undo centuries of structure; Safinnia thinks Alvina’s blind obedience will doom them to repeat tyranny. And yet, both cling to the crown for the same reason: it’s the last place left to carve meaning from lives that weren’t entirely theirs to begin with. They’re not enemies—they’re consequences of different choices made in the same war.