#(my apologies to miss ephyra who is very magnificent and whom i adore)

[roguelioness]

catching a cold heart

A lil @wayfarer-exchange crackfic treat for @coldshrugs featuring her beloved Ephyra Metaxas. Here at last is the long-promised (threatened?) Effiro ship :D

A thin trail of ominous soot drifts upwards to the heavens from the tower. Even though it’s been a familiar sight these past days, it still brings a sense of foreboding to Oshiro’s stomach - only now it’s even worse what with the insane plan Anaxes has cooked up. He snorts to himself. No good will come out of bringing Wayfarers into this mix - it’s foolishness to think otherwise.

A thread snags on his ribs and knots itself in his chest when he thinks of one particular wayfarer. Metaxas was elegant and poised, and though her eyes had flashed with heat at several points in the discussion, she’d maintained her calm. For all he distrusted her kind, there was something magnetic about her, a indescribable quality that had him uncomfortably aware of her presence from the moment she walked in to the moment he left.

The rustling of leaves alerts Oshiro, telling him he’s no longer alone. Even so, he’s startled to see Metaxas step around the corner, her black serithan fluttering prettily in the wind. She freezes at the sight of him - that knot grows tighter and more uncomfortable - her expression immediately smoothing over into one of calm equinamity.

“Archsage,” she greets with a graceful nod.

“Wayfarer Metaxas,” his tongue is three sizes too big for his mouth. In this gentle dusk her skin glows, the many cuffs decorating her auburn locs twinkling beneath the soft golden sunlight. Her half-lidded gaze appraises him and leaves him feeling like he’s been taken measure of and found wanting. A flush suffuses his cheeks as he recalls the manner in which he’d spoken to her during the meeting, and shame has him dropping his gaze to the ground.

The silence between them is thick and awkward. He can’t bear it. He cannot stand to know that someone as beautiful as she is might think him arrogantly cruel. “I’m sorry,” he blurts out with all the grace of a sinking stone. At her raised eyebrow, he adds, “For what I said during the meeting. I was… I chose my words poorly. You are no lesser than I am for your lack of magic, and it was wrong of me to have implied otherwise.”

She’s silent for several long moments, and he fights to not squirm beneath those golden eyes. “You’re forgiven, archsage.”

The relief that flows through him is immeasurable. “Thank you,” he says earnestly. “Allow me to make it up to you. My quarters are close by - would you like to stop by for some a drink?”

Again, she raises that elegant brow, and a smirk blooms on that beautiful mouth. “I could be persuaded to accompany you for some wine.” She takes a step closer to him. “If you ask me nicely.”

He would beg. For her, he would cast aside his pride and fall to the ground on his knees, and plead for the opportunity to be further enthralled by this wondrous being. Without hesitation, Oshiro kneels, coating the pristine trousers of his abberan with mud and uncaring that the stains might never wash out. His mouth is bone-dry, and he has to lick his lips before he speaks. “Please, Wayfarer,” he’s left reeling by the power she radiates, “please grace my humble quarters with your presence. Please.”

Stars are forged in the brilliance of her smile. “Certainly, archsage.” Even as he’s looking up at her, she bends till their faces are but inches apart. “But why don’t you call me Ephyra?”