Muhtesem Yuzyil Imagines ♡

SULTANA OF THE SUN & MOON (ReginaRubie)

Intermezzo

18th of September 1566, Istanbul

The sun rose over the capital and for a moment she wondered how it was that the world suddenly seemed to be able to go on anyway, even when its ruler had suddenly stopped upholding the law of Allah and protecting his people.

Mihrimah had begged him, pleaded with him with every word she had been able to muster, but not even her beloved mother's memory had been enough to stop him from leading the campaign; and Allah had taken him in glory to his heavens leaving his earthly domains in chaos.

His death had happened days before, but the news had reached the capital only that morning, or was it supposed to be yesterday already, she wondered?

Her father, the ruler of the seven continents, the owner of the throne of the ottomans, the Lawgiver had passed away from home and from all those left to this world who loved him unconditionally.

Baba , she had prayed to him, she hadn't called him father since she had become old enough to understand that he wasn't only her father but most importantly the Hunkar of the ottoman empire. And now... now he was gone and with him any stability they could hope to achieve.

No one had dared say anything when Mihrimah had occupied the chambers of the sultan the previous afternoon, her eyes filled with tears and heart grief-stricken. She had let herself grieve and mourn; she had even laid on the bed, where she had spent several nights with her father when she had been a child and needed comforting.

His scent didn't linger anymore, and it broke her heart that for however clearly she could recall it in her mind, she couldn't seem to find it anyway and she could never again. She'd never feel the warmth of her father's hands on her forehead and the soft press of his kiss against her forehead.

Her father was dead, and with him along went peace. His harem was in a state of disarray for the mourning of the Hunkar as it was right, but that was not what worried Mihrimah. Thankfully her father had been away from the capital long enough that, if ever had slept with other concubines they would already know if one was carrying a child.

That was one problem less.

Still to her father four sons remained, and they all had the same right to the ottoman throne.

It had been her mother's great preoccupation and regret that her sons would, one day, fight against each other, kill each other in the name of the throne.

Even if there weren't already beefs and misunderstandings between them, the viziers , the pashas and even the aghas would tear them apart, bone by bone, limb by limb until they fought each other like lions and only one ended up on top, and Mihrimah would have to see it all unfold before her eyes, powerless — for all her power — to stop it.

The world demanded it. The law enforced it.

A sultan may kill his own brothers and nephews to uphold the peace.

Mihrimah had failed the tasks her mother had set for her.

She had entrusted her, her precious sons and her husband. It was by miracle of the Padisha 's love for her that her brothers still breathed;

And now... now Mihrimah had to fight against the law itself to attempt to ensure her family didn't get destroyed by power.

The first ray of the dawn kissed her cheeks, like a father's caress, just like the moonlight had wrapped around her during her long night of mourning like a mother's embrace.

I am Mihrimah Sultan, she steeled herself, collecting her veil and crown from the feet of the bed, Hurrem Sultan's daughter and Sultan Suleyman Khan's, and donning it on, I am the sultan of the sun and the moon as my father, the Padisha, has deemed. Everything will be as I will it .