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neoninky · 2 years ago

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TWST Fanfic: "Her Lost Voice" Chapter 15

Hello, hello~

For those who might've missed my previous post, heads up - read this one shot before you read this chapter simply because it'll explain a few things lol.

Chapter 15: I Want More

It was darker, colder than usual that night. Ivy watched her husband and uncle depart from the front gates of the Leech house with some muscle in tow. It had been a week since she had become Mrs. Cerith and she trusted Indigo just as much as she loved him. That didn't stop the cold fear creeping into her veins, however. The two eel men swam away in silence, eyes forward, not a hint of hesitance in either of their gazes. Madam Leech had joined her but now turned to go back inside when she saw Ivy remained frozen.

"Ivy, darling. Don't stay out too long," her smile was full of empathy. She remembered the days when she first became a young wife to her husband and mistress to his dangerous household. Like her niece, she didn't have any preparation for becoming a mafia wife. Even so, Narissa Leech had no regrets.

"Alright, auntie..." Ivy's voice was distant as her eyes stayed forward until her love was out of sight.

On the other side of the reef, Don Muraeni was waiting with Proteus and his sharks close by. The meeting spot was on neutral territory outside of town which both houses agreed upon. Don Leech smirked as he recognized the dilapidated underwater gorge. It was quiet and empty now but in his youth, he and his boys often spent their days either racing or scrapping with rivals all over this place.

"Interesting that your father would pick this dump for a meet-up," Don Leech scoffed as they swam past what used to be a magnificent ship before it sank.

Indigo's expression hardened like a fresh-cut diamond, "It's a perfect place to conduct business you don't want anyone else to know about. Or dispose of someone you don't want to be found."

His new boss just snorted as if Indigo was being cute, "That's very true, though if he wanted to do that, he should have lured in far more stupid prey."

"Oh I wouldn't be too concerned about that, Roscoe..." called a sinisterly cool voice.

Don Leech snarled at the tone of his rival. From the shadows of another shipwreck, two shark mermen slowly swam into the open and flanked a dark opening where their bosses' drawl had come from.

"Come inside, won't you? We have a lot to discuss."

Don Leech looked over his shoulder to his boys, silently telling them to stay outside but still close by just before he and Indigo entered the hull. Proteus was at Don Muraeni's side per usual, his smug grin in its place. The rival Don had made himself comfortable in a broken-down captain's chair as if this were his own home. "Roscoe Leech. Welcome." he called his generational adversary so informally, with a stone-cold look, "You've grown into quite the leader, haven't you? Almost as rough around the edges as your father was in his day."

Don Leech wasn't phased, "The Leech's have never suffered any Muraeni bullshit if they could help it so get on with whatever it is you have to say, old man." It was true that Don Muraeni had already been in power before Roscoe Leech took his father's place. So this wasn't just his enemy but his father's as well.

"And yet, you took my girls so willingly?" Muraeni's eyes were cold and sharp, his tone even as he stared Don Leech down, "and my son as well. How hypocritical."

Electric magic began to crackle between Don Leech's fingers as he clinched his fist, "Took them? That's rich. Luna and Cowrie practically broke into my house trying to get away from you and who could blame them? I can only imagine the hell a 'businessman' like you put them through! As for Indigo, he makes his own decisions now...isn't that why you called us here, Muraeni?"

Indigo was staring directly into his father's matching ice-blue eyes as Don Leech spoke. Any semblance of the obedient, stoic son was gone. Don Muraeni wasn't worried, however, instead, he waved a lazy hand to Proteus who swam above deck to fetch something, "Straight to the meat it is then. Surely, Proteus made my intentions clear so it's only fair that I prove my word is good as gold."

Proteus returned with a strange bottle in his hands. Once he placed it on the ground between the four of them did Indigo's brow furrow. Inside was a small, slug-like being that confused him...until he saw the necklace tied around the bottle's neck: an aged crescent moon pendant that still had a soft sheen to it. He knew it well. He never saw her without it on for as long as he could remember. His heart plummeted just as quickly as his temper shot up like a geyser.

"If you have anything to say to me, you'll release her to let me speak to her FIRST," Indigo snarled.

His father slowly smirked before motioning to Proteus to do exactly that. In an instant, the ray merman snapped his fingers and the bottle seemed to burst open with a bright whirlpool of magic. Moments later, the small creature grew and reformed before their eyes into Junonia Cerith herself. The siren lay weakened on the creaking wood planks barely any different from how Indigo remembered her. Luna was the spitting image of her even now. Her warm honey-colored eyes searched the room in a panic before landing on her tortuous husband. Don Muraeni gave her a smile that made her taste poison in the back of her throat, "Ah, my darling wife, Junonia."

"I'm not your darling anything!" her voice was harsh from years of being silent but she spat at him with pure hatred at the ready. He merely tutted and gestured to the two men across from her, "Now, now is that any way to behave when our son has finally returned home?"

He had waited for this for so many years, beyond hoping that somehow he'd see his mother again. But Indigo's heart nearly broke when their eyes met. Junonia's gaze widened with a mixture of joy and terror, "Indigo. My sweet boy."

"Mother..." his voice could barely be heard by anyone but her, "I'm here."

She was real: her tender voice, her warm eyes, everything was as if she had never disappeared. Indigo wanted so badly to embrace her, apologize to her for so many things, and tell her that Luna and Cowrie were safe, but he knew better. Don Muraeni was on a schedule and he had all the necessary cards to undo all of Indigo's good intentions in seconds. Realizing what was going on, Junonia started to cry out in protest but it came out as nothing more than a pathetic rasp as Proteus' tail snaked around her throat, holding her down. His father leaned on his propped hand, ready to secure his victory already.

"So...what will it be, son?"

The water was thick with silent tension. Don Leech looked at his young protege, waiting for him to make his move. From the dark corners of the ruined quarters, Indigo's youngest brother lay in wait, watching the scene unfold with calculating eyes.

Days passed as things swiftly progressed under the waves. Under the hot sun on the surface, Elise Coralette stared at the view from her old summer home, barely recognizing it after all this time. She was back at the very beginning again: what was left of the summer breeze brushing through her raven locks as she stared out into the open sea from her balcony, wondering what the horizon held in store for her. The servants greeted her upon her return and mostly let her be unless interaction was required. Even Gerald stayed away if he was even in the villa at all. Elise's stay would be short and the last. This was made known to the staff via her brother's command before she had even arrived. She was only here for that night and the day of Emily's wedding. After that...well, no one knew. Not even Elise.

Per tradition, the ceremony would be on a large luxurious ship. Emily, of course, already had all of her bridesmaids arranged so Elise would only be attending as a guest. Thank goodness for that. That didn't stop Elise from tossing out the dress Emily had "generously" sent her to wear to the wedding, however. The hideously pink frock made Elise feel sick the minute she opened the large, gaudy box it came in: all puff and bows, like something a tacky porcelain doll would be forced to wear. Fortunately for her, there was a certain stylish siren who had her best interest in mind.

Elise smiled at the stowaway black box that Luna had stashed in her bag full of other fine outfits that Madam Leech had bequeathed to her before she had left. It now lay on her bed, waiting for the big day. She ran a hand over the lavender bow that had been expertly tied on the outside and giggled as she reread the handwritten note.

"I figured you could use some panache for this one last family event. Azul-kun helped naturally. Knock them dead. Send pictures."

The satin off-the-shoulder dress inside was an elegant deep purple with a long, silky skirt that flowed like water if she so much as turned in it. The fitted bodice was embellished with vine-like lace that crawled down the skirt and shining pearls. It was nothing as seductive as her best friend would wear though it would turn some heads and infuriate her sister. It was a Luna Cerith staple for sure. The fact that Azul approved of it, well, that alone bolstered Elise's confidence. She tried it on once again just to spoil her clever beau with some previews before putting it away for safekeeping.

The sun was setting and the only messages on her phone were replies from those she left behind at school. Nothing from her father or brother who had missed her calls that morning. It did nothing but strengthen her resolve, honestly. She wasn't the same girl she was the last time she was staying in this room after all. No one bothered to stop Elise from leaving for the evening either. No questions regarding where she was headed. Nothing. Instead of giddily sneaking out of her window as she did before, Elise simply changed clothes at a casual pace, walked down the stairs in silence as if she were a ghost, and left.

The town was bustling as usual, even more so with news of Princess Emily's impending marriage to a Shaftlandian prince. Elise heard the groom's name in passing but didn't care enough to remember it. The familiar places she used to love about this town had lost their previous luminescence. In that absence, Elise experienced a pleasant enough evening but couldn't stop thinking about home. Her real home. She didn't even realize how badly she missed the sea until her feet carried her back to the same peer she used to practice her flute at. Her body routinely sat down on the edge and gazed outward towards the water. She smiled softly as she realized that she even grabbed the very same bag that held the said instrument in it. It had been a while, hadn't it?

The dying breeze carried the musical notes over the waves under her feet like Elise's personal messenger. She didn't think about what she was playing exactly, no, she just let it speak for her. The princess wasn't sad exactly nor was she happy. If anything, Elise had nothing to say but many things to feel. That was enough for her. In this lukewarm place, she had called home for so long, she felt an equally half-baked goodbye was just fine. Soon...soon enough...Elise thought over and over again, renewing all of her faith in Azul's skills and gumption to bring her home. She was so lost in this meditation that she barely heard the real voice calling out to her from the water below.

"Elise??"

It was funny to her now that the same boy with his deep blue eyes, musical voice, and fiery red hair used to excite her so much. Now Prince Rielle only made her frown and inwardly sigh.

"Hello Rielle," she greeted him half-heartedly, confirming with her eyes what she already guessed, "I see you got your fins back."

The prince's sea-green scales shimmered slightly in the dying light but his expression was even more melancholy than the last time she saw him. It frankly annoyed Elise a bit more than she was prepared for.

"Have you come to cry over your sweet Emily that got away then?" Elise's tone was a blunt stone thrown right at Rielle's already damper spirit, "If so, I don't want to hear it, thank you."

His teary blue eyes did little to move the princess but he still cried out, "I came to apologize! I...I'm so sorry for everything that's happened. And Emily...she's...well..."

"She doesn't love you, yes. Glad you finally figured that out, Rielle," Elise sighed and put her flute back into her bag. Looking down at the expectant young merman, she did feel a bit of her bite wain, "Look Rielle. I'm not upset for the reasons you may think I am. Yes, it hurt immensely when I realized that you were smitten with Emily and not me but frankly, I should have woken up much sooner. I finally did and now I'm back...here where I don't belong."

Rielle reached out and took her hanging hand, "But you're home and safe on land. I'm glad about that! I was terrified that Azul and those eel brothers were doing something despicable to you!"

Elise didn't know whether she should laugh or kick him in the face. So Azul and "those eel brothers" were the despicable ones? And why did he suddenly seem so compassionate?! Her pale eyes narrowed as she yanked her hand away, "Oh really? Funny how you care now that Emily is off the table. And why are you here anyway?! Shouldn't you be back at your sparkly little school with all those other good, good boys, hmm?"

Rielle nearly turned to seafoam as he shrank away from her angry tone, "I was worried and I wanted to make sure you were alright!"

"Well, I'm NOT! AT ALL!"

Elise's eyes grew wet as her screams echoed across the sea, "I don't want to be here anymore! I want to be back in the ocean with Luna and Cowrie! I miss them so much and Jade and Floyd! I miss being a mermaid and being with Azul!" Her voice broke down into bitter sobs as his name left her lips, "I-I want it all back..."

Her tears dripped down her face and into the water below as Rielle stared dumbfounded into her despair. "Elise-" but he couldn't continue. What could he possibly say? After everything, he had put her through not just this summer but for years. It would hurt even more but...the truth is what she deserved.

"I'm so sorry that I have strung you along for so long, Elise. I didn't love you. I didn't even save you from that shipwreck all those years ago. I just didn't have the heart to tell you...I'm so sorry, " Rielle felt the lead weight of guilt press down on him as he watched the disbelief light Elise's eyes. It only lasted a minute before her eyes grew cold. She transformed from a sweet, lovesick princess into a completely different person right before his eyes.

"It doesn't matter anymore. Go home and live your life, Rielle. There's nothing left for you here," Elise rose to leave before the prince had a chance to argue. He called after her but Elise Coralette refused to turn back.

Hours after the sun had set, Jade's phone rang and set the tone for the rest of the night. Azul sensed something was wrong as soon as Jade left the Mostro Lounge's main floor so suddenly. It was only an hour before close and things were just starting to wind down when a loud crash sounded from the kitchen followed by a very angry-looking Floyd bursting through the double doors not long after his brother's exit. He had also received a call and he was furious.

Both of the twins were heading in the same direction. Azul quickly gave orders to the rest of the staff before following after. The trail ended at the grotto, echoing with discourse.

"I said NO!!"

Floyd and Jade were charging at each other in their eel forms. Luna, meanwhile, was furiously trying to break them apart, "Floyd, stop it! Please just listen!"

Jade glared daggers at his brother as he swatted him to the ground with his tail, "Floyd, calm down! Father wouldn't have made this request if he thought Luna would be in danger-"

Seconds before he could finish, Jade was faced with his twin's open maw of sharp teeth jetting toward him. Before Floyd could sink his teeth into Jade's shoulder, he was suddenly snatched mid-lunge and slammed into the sand.

"What the hell is going on here?!" Azul in full octopus form held Floyd tight within one angry tentacle while the other seven threatened to do the same to Jade if need be. The other Leech brother quickly regained his composure with a huff. "Azul, forgive the ruckus but...it's our Father. He reached out to both of us, requesting that Luna return home at once."

Part of Azul completely sympathized with Floyd's outburst, having just said goodbye to Elise himself. HOWEVER, that did not excuse the massive upset to their business! Floyd ignored the sharp glare Azul was sending his way as he struggled to free himself with a harsh snarl.

"After everything, why would Dad want her to go right back?! I won't have it!"

"It isn't up to you, Floyd-" Jade began to snap until two more tentacles came crashing down, silencing the brothers.

"Enough! Do either one of you even realize what you're doing?!" Azul was livid and at his wit's end with the both of them, "The whole point of Luna being here was to keep it secret. And here you are carrying on like blood-drunk sharks! It's a wonder the whole campus doesn't know she's here! Did you even bother to ask why Don Leech would make such a request, to begin with?!"

The twins stared wide-eyed at the fuming octopus, surprised that he hadn't dyed the entire dorm black with his ink as he spat at them. Jade cleared his throat and started over in his usual soft tone, "It's Luna's right to go. It's about her mother."

Floyd lost some of his thunder as he looked over at his mate and saw how upset she was. Luna was shaking as she slowly sank to the ground and curled up on herself. Azul scoffed and flicked the eel's head with another tentacle, "Barbarian. Maybe consider your mate's feelings before having one of your tantrums."

He released the cranky brother and addressed Jade directly, "Did your father mention anything else?"

Jade tilted his head to the side as he answered, "Nothing else. Father is very brief and direct. Something on your mind, Azul?"

His grandmother's cryptic warning had been burning in the back of his mind ever since that day, "My grandmother warned me that trouble seems to be brewing back home. And to look out for someone named Proteus."

Hearing that name, Luna sprang up all at once, "What about Proteus? Your grandmother knows him?"

The dread in her golden eyes was palpable. Azul's mind went to work fast but there was still the more urgent matter at hand, "I'm not sure what she knows about him but it's enough that she felt the need to warn me. More importantly..."

Azul suddenly turned that all too familiar, commanding gaze onto the twins, "You two. The Lounge closes in less than an hour. Clean up that mess you left behind, Floyd. And Jade, make sure everything else is in order. NOW."

He was in full boss mode and fighting against him was a fool's errand. Jade left without a word. Floyd gave Luna an apologetic look before groaning back to the Lounge. Azul huffed and offered Luna a far gentler tone, "Luna there is something I want to ask of you if you do return home..."

He needed information. Who better than a seasoned siren to get it for him?

After the Lounge had been properly closed, Floyd was quick to return to the grotto. His mood didn't get any better whatsoever. Especially when he realized that Azul hadn't returned to the Lounge and left all the work to him, Jade, and the other students!

"What the hell?" he grumbled as he and Jade swam back to the grotto, "I get that he was mad but he could have at least come back and done his part too-"

Floyd halted at the grotto entry as he saw Azul and Luna not only talking but Azul was sitting with Luna's head in his lap, crying. Jade could feel the wheels in his brother's head go into overdrive, "Floyd." Floyd's irises shrunk as they did whenever he was about to go off. Any outburst was squashed as soon as Luna looked at him.

"Floyd honey, please. Come here?" She raised her hand out to him and he was tamed instantly. Her mate rushed to her and started murmuring apologies for his behavior earlier as he kissed her face. Azul moved away and let Floyd take his place. The four of them took time to rest in the grotto and once Luna had calmed down, she made her case to her stubborn lover.

"Please understand, Floyd. If what Father Leech has said is true then I have to go. I thought my mother was gone forever. If there's even a chance that she isn't...I must see for myself."

Floyd's ear fins drooped, "But...I just got you back, Lunaaaa. Why do you wanna go back to where you could be trapped again?! They could be lying!"

"Would your father lie about something like this?" Luna pleaded, already knowing the answer. Floyd's pout said it all.

"She won't be in danger, Floyd. Father would never allow it," Jade used that reasonable tone of voice that Floyd often hated. Because Jade was pretty much always right.

"It's not forever, honey. I'll come back once Sacred Crown opens its campus just like we discussed. I promise," Luna kissed his lips so sweetly, killing off any hope of an argument.

"I don't want you to gooo...but...fine," Floyd nuzzled his face into her neck with a huff.

Luna purred and kissed her lover multiple times over, "I have to leave in the morning but I'll be back before you know it, darling."

Floyd groaned like he was dying as he wrapped both his arms and tail around his mate. Azul nor Jade made a fuss when he demanded to stay the night with Luna until she had to leave. As they were leaving, Azul saw the determined look Luna gave him and she nodded. She would do as he asked.

"If you return home, seek out my grandmother. Mother will help you. I can't be there but I need you to be my ears and eyes. I want Elise to be with me. I want to ensure not only our future together but the future of all of us. But I need to know what's going on...will you help me, Luna?"

"Of course, Azul-kun. I will do whatever it takes."

...Azul gave the siren a confident grin before leaving her and Floyd to their night together. Jade and Azul both left without a word to each other until they were well away from the grotto.

"Is something amiss back home, Azul?" Jade asked quietly just in case any other students might be breaking curfew.

Azul Ashengrotto kept his poker face on seamlessly as his vice kept pace with him, "I have my suspicions based on what Grandmother told me. As the future Don Leech, you no doubt have been getting the same feeling from your father, no?"

Jade hummed to himself. The current Don Leech wasn't entirely forthcoming but that was just fine. His heir always had a keen eye for what lay between the lines. Like his friend, Jade also wanted to ensure the future with his mate and that any future Leech heir was secure. Taking on his father's role didn't mean looking out for just his house but the entire territory and everyone in it.

"You were wise to put your trust in Luna then," he smirked, "my dear sister is as sharp as she is beautiful."

Azul finally looked at his second in command with a skeptically raised brow, "I've known you too long to wonder how you guessed what I was up to...but I'm still curious as to what makes you say that."

The future Don just chuckled, "A woman that can tame my wild twin with one look or touch is a force of nature to be greatly feared and respected."

The next day, Elise rose with the sun. The wedding wouldn't be until later that evening but suddenly news from Luna woke her with a start. Cowrie also sat on her bed back at school, staring at her phone in wide-eyed silence long after the three-way call had ended.

Their mother was alive...?

The three of them were miles apart but all three of them met the morning with similar levels of uncertainty.

Luna grasped the portal key in her hand as she cooed her sleepy love awake. She knew he'd make a fuss but that only made her goodbye kisses all the sweeter. Elise sat at her vanity, combing her long tresses before laying out the pearl hairpins for later. Cowrie grabbed her school bag and marched into the dorm lobby ready to greet and inspire her students to once again seize the day head-on.

Madam Leech's garden was as vibrant as ever. It wrapped Luna in its warmth once she reached the other side of the portal. Narissa Leech was waiting there equally as warmly, "Welcome home, my dear girl."

Luna felt instant relief as her mother-in-law embraced her. The mistress didn't hesitate to bring her into the house for some refreshment while also admiring the necklace her dear Floyd had made for his mate.

"Oh, it's lovely! My sweet baby boy is a real softie deep down, just like his father," she giggled, "It makes me so happy that he finally found someone that can keep up with him!"

"I do my best, Mother Leech," Luna smiled happily as they entered the dining hall.

Ivy was already seated with her uncle once the two entered. Indigo was nowhere to be seen. Ivy gave her unknowing sister-in-law a warm smile, "I'm happy to finally meet you, Luna."

It was plain as day that she was if nothing else, related to Madam Leech just from her colorful teal green palette. Even so, Luna was caught off guard by this new face. Her auntie gestured for Luna to have a seat as she settled between Ivy and Don Leech, "This is my niece Ivy, my dear girl. Luna is, as you already know, one of my darling daughters-to-be."

Narissa Leech couldn't be more obvious in her glowing joy. Ivy sipped her drink as polished as her auntie before asking a very revealing question, "Are my cousins treating you and your sister well? If they aren't I'll be sure to straighten them out before Auntie Narissa does."

Cousins? Ah, the image was clearer now, "Jade and Floyd are your cousins then. I can see the resemblance...Ivy was it?"

Ivy's smile held a mischievous secret, "Ivy Cerith, yes. I'm sorry that my husband has been too busy to tell you and Cowrie about our recent marriage."

Luna did a double take so fast it was a miracle she didn't get whiplash, "Cerith?? You're....You're Indigo's wife?"

Jade and Floyd's cousin. Indigo's wife? Well, well, she was a gorgeous little secret wasn't she? Luna smiled at her sweet sister with as much glee as the cat that caught the canary!

"Goodness, my brother does have a lot to catch us up on, doesn't he? Well, I am thrilled to meet you, at last, Ivy."

The two eelmaids giggled conspiratorially together, bonding instantly. Don Leech had been silently eating until that point, not wanting to bombard his daughter with any more distress than she had already experienced on her own. Once the meal and the pleasantries were finished, Luna addressed her father-in-law directly.

"Father Leech, thank you for looking after Indigo and me as well. Please tell me everything you know. I don't wish to waste another moment."

Her tone was forward, and assertive, but still polished with charm to a fault. He could see why his son was so taken with her. Speaking of which...

"I apologize for the major tantrum Floyd no doubt dragged you into once I called him and Jade," He huffed, "That aside, Indigo specifically requested your presence here. He apologizes that he cannot be here right this moment. He's...wrapping up a few things before he settles into his new role."

Luna didn't like the sound of that at all. She didn't bother hiding the worry on her face either. The Don continued without batting an eye, "Indigo Cerith is now Don Cerith, the new head of the Muraeni household. Your stepfather has held your mother captive in some sort of trapping spell all this time as leverage. It seems like he had a feeling he would need her just for this. I'm sorry that you had to find out now, Luna."

The siren thought she might break apart with each word he spoke, "...After everything my brother and your sons have done then...?"

The Don rose from his seat and beckoned Luna to follow him. His wife and niece stayed behind but gave the poor siren looks of affectionate support as she followed Don Leech to his den.

"You and your sister are safe. They will not come after you," he waited for Luna to be seated across from him before pulling out some papers from his desk, "Indigo made sure to procure hard contracts from his father and Proteus agreeing to leave you two be. Though you may wait to legally take the Leech name after you marry my sons, you and Cowrie are officially a part of my household and therefore off limits to anyone who may pose a threat to this family."

"And our mother?" Luna couldn't keep her voice from trembling, "Where is she now? When can I see her?"

Her father-in-law's deep olive eyes suddenly looked heavier as he sighed and rested his head in thought on his fist, "That part is a bit more tricky, my dear. Indigo is close by and keeping her from harm as he re-establishes his father's house and regime across the reef. If there were a more direct way to free her from captivity, know that it would have been done before your return."

Luna gave him a warm smile, "I have no doubt, Father Leech. I understand how difficult Stepfather can be with his schemes. However, I don't remember him showing any signs of magic before...is it really his doing alone?"

This girl was clever. It made him proud, not to mention relieved his boy didn't choose some vapid trophy as his future wife. "I believe it's Proteus' doing. I only saw it for a second but he was the one that released the magical bind on your mother."

Of course, Proteus had his claws in this. She suspected for years that her parents' disappearance was his doing! Her eyes narrowed in disgust as she spat out his name, "Proteus has always been a devious force in Stepfather's league. Was there any mention of a Mr. Cerith? My father?"

Don Leech didn't have to answer her question. His eyes said it all. Still, he honored it with a shake of his head, "I'm afraid not, Luna."

No, of course not. Don Muraeni had no use for her father anymore. Luna exhaled as much of the pain as she could. She trusted that Indigo had things well in hand. Plus...she had another mission to fulfill.

"Father Leech. I assume it may be some time before I can safely see my mother again. Instead, there is somewhere else I need to be as soon as possible. May I go to the Leviathan Club this afternoon?"

Luna was not only welcomed but expected by the two Ashengrotto women who grinned at each other as soon as they saw the siren enter with the escorts Don Leech provided. Mama Ashengrotto had informed the stand-in hostess of Luna's arrival beforehand and therefore, the young siren was immediately guided upstairs to one of the private rooms on the second floor. She wasn't entirely sure what to expect but as soon as Luna entered and saw the infamous Lorelei Ashengrotto waiting for her in all her relaxed glory, she could see where Azul had gotten his swagger from.

"Well now. What a pretty face you have, my dear siren," the witch's smokey voice beckoned Luna in like a jeweled finger.

Mama Ashengrotto was serving her mother with her arms and tentacles as one broke away from the pack to push out a chair for Luna, "Welcome back, Luna Cerith. Everything is on the house so just settle in."

Luna gracefully floated down into her seat and greeted the Ashengrotto women pleasantly, "Mrs. Ashengrotto. You are Azul's grandmother, Lorelei, yes?"

"Indeed," her deep blue eyes took in the eelmaid with a sharp curiosity, "My grandson told me all about you. He's always had a shrewd sense about him when it comes to potential. His mother taught him well...yes, I think you'll do nicely, Luna Cerith."

The sea witch chuckled at the lost look on Luna's face, "I see he's kept his cards close to the chest once again. You came for information on that Proteus fellow, yes? Well, I have plenty but nothing comes for free my dear."

"I wouldn't assume so, Madam Lorelei."

Lorelei was silently pleased with this girl's pace. She knew exactly how things worked already. She would have to thank her grandson for sending her such a pearl, "Very good, you understand quickly. Now then, angelfish, let's talk business. I will provide all the inside intel you and Azul desire and in turn, you will become my apprentice. Just as my sweet boy requested."

She was flattered, of course, but for Azul to make such a request on her behalf...it suddenly clicked and Luna smiled. Elise said it best: "I can't graduate and get my mage license without some sort of proper internship..." You can't get something with nothing after all. Luna would have to find one hell of a thank you for Azul later on for this.

"I would be honored to study under you, Madam Lorelei," Luna bowed in her seat to the sea witch, her heart full of gratitude for this family.

Lorelei chuckled and tutted at her new apprentice, "First lesson, my girl: a proper sea witch bows to no one. You're lucky my grandson is so thorough," one ink black tentacle placed what looked like a resume on the table in front of Luna, "He made note of every talent you've shown. As your teacher, I'd like to see the full deck and what I've got to work with. I hope you're as ambitious as you are crafty, my girl."

A devious shiver of excitement ran through Luna at this newly opened door, "You won't be disappointed, Madam. I assure you."

The ocean was painted orange and pink by the setting sun. The guests boarded the ship after a thorough security inspection, their excited laughter and chatter echoing throughout the dock. On the upper decks, His Majesty Erik Coralette sat alone in his room, contemplating the next few days of his life. His eldest daughter would marry today. Tomorrow his son would take his place as King. After everything was in place, he would retire. After that, he would no longer be a King but just another man aged by time and the sea itself. His tired expression stared out into the surrounding sea. The very same that took his wife from him. His Majesty had grown both distant and silent about this matter over time. He was a bastion, a guardian to his people first and foremost. Over the years, he sank further into this role and the isolation it brought. He had no doubt his son, Edward, would carry on his torch with pride and perfection. Everything was in its place...though the knock on his door would prove otherwise.

"Your Majesty, your daughter, Princess Elise, requests a meeting with you," said the footman.

The elderly king said nothing. The sight of his youngest daughter standing before him, grown beautifully into a young woman shocked him to the core. Her deep violet satin gown swished behind her as Elise entered and bowed her pearl adorned head to him, smiling warmly with sad eyes, "Hello Father."

Tagging: @nuitthegoddess @iscarlettappel @foxwitchaine @1ndigowitch @wysteriadelights @evieyouknow @ladyrosemoon @victoria1676 @aiimee9 @honey-milk-depresso @espada188 @feldya

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puthyflapps · 1 year ago

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Last night and this morning on my drive to work (when I do my most serious thinking) I put myself in a sad ranya mood :(

#it started off kinda fun and flirty bc I was thinking about how I love the idea of a love triangle btw Raven Anya and Luna but then it got #kinda sad cuz I kept imaging fucking depressing ass scenarios like nooo 😩 this was supposed to be fun!! Anya was supposed to be obnoxious #about her distaste for raven x luna and now I am just sad cuz Anya is sad 😔#raven reyes #Anya woods #anya kom trikru #ranya #im not tagging fish girl cuz she’s not who im concerned with #she is a plot device

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the-witch-of-woods-beyond · 9 months ago

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favourite t100 “crackships”:

clarke x luna - never getting over them

monty x miller - miller deserved more focus

jasper x octavia - s1/s2 them were adorable

bellamy x murphy - s1 bodyguard/enemies vibes

raven x octavia - having only ONE scene is a crime

harper x fox - girlfriends on the ark 100%

#the 100 #jroth #clarke x luna #cluna #???#never heard of a name for this ship #monty x miller #minty #jasper x octavia #jactavia #bellamy x murphy #murphamy #raven x octavia #octaven #harper mcintyre #fox the 100 #harper x fox

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damneddamsy · 28 days ago

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second sight | cregan stark x oc (part viii)

a/n: today on a special angst-fluff episode, war is here. Claere faces off with Sylas and Cregan is pissed as fuck.

"The North remembers," they said, but in the face of dragonfire, memories of ash smouldered in secret.

The saying haunted Cregan Stark’s mind as he stared up at the approaching stone walls of Winterfell, each one steeped in history, in blood, in the scars of northern pride. The wildlings had brought ruin here before, flames that had charred whole villages and left deep wounds in the land and its people.

Now, with Sylas the Grim’s ruthless host threatening their borders, the North knew what it faced—a familiar terror comes to life in a new skin. And yet, this time, that terror was woven with something the North found even harder to bear: Claere. Their frustration with her burned as deep as their fear of Sylas. She was a tempest, one with a dragon’s shadow, and the tempest had now come home.

The ride back from Castle Cerwyn had been tense, Cregan keeping his jaw clenched as Claere remained distant, her silence like a wall. Her eyes held that distant, unreadable look he recognized all too well—the look that told him she was utterly unreachable elsewhere. And when the raven had come, when they’d learned the wildlings had already torn through Queensgate and were now barreling toward Winterfell, Claere’s decision was swift and absolute. She had urged her dragon, Luna, and flown on ahead, faster than any horse could travel, her need for solitude all too clear.

Back home, Winterfell was in turmoil. Word of Sylas’s raiders had spread quickly, stirring panic and outrage among the smallfolk and the highborn alike. Fear clung to the stone walls, and every murmur seemed to echo with the name of the wildling king who rode south of the Wall, the one who dared invoke a queen’s name—a southern majesty who bore a northern title, one that Winterfell was not wholly at ease with. But Cregan had no time for doubt or hesitation. His vassals, his bannermen—they would follow his lead or face his wrath.

In the great hall, the mood was dark and simmering, like a storm straining at its bounds. It has been this way ever since Claere had stepped foot into his home.

Lord Bolton, face sharp as a flint, crossed his arms and let his displeasure be known. “We’re to fight her war now, are we, my lord? Our sons and daughters—our lives spent to drive back the blood she’s drawn? What loyalty do we owe to a Targaryen?”

Cregan’s eyes darkened, his fists tight by his side, but he remained composed. “Our loyalty is to the North. This enemy does not care who reigns here; only Winterfell falls. And you will address Lady Stark with respect.”

Lord Ryswell, his brow heavy with disdain, shook his head. “But it is the White Dread's wings that drew their eye. This Sylas did not come for Winterfell—he came for her. Let her face him with her beast; let her burn them herself. Must we spill our blood to clean up her folly?”

Cregan’s hands trembled, his patience thinning like a frayed cord.

“If you would run when danger calls at our gates, then perhaps you belong south of the Neck, Lord Ryswell,” he spat, stepping toward him with a fury that made the air crackle. “Do not forget who leads here. You’re bound by the oath to fight for the North, and if you turn your back on that now, I will have your head before the wildlings can take it.”

Ryswell tensed, glancing around as other lords shifted uncomfortably. But he did not back down. “This is your queen’s doing, Lord Stark. She must carry the burden she’s brought upon us, and not cower behind our banners while Winterfell suffers.”

With a flash of uncontained rage, Cregan seized Ryswell by the collar, his grip vice-tight, fingers digging into the thick fabric as he hauled the lord off balance. The impact against the stone wall was brutal, echoing in the quiet tension of the hall, and Ryswell’s startled breath hitched, his eyes widening.

Cregan leaned in, his face mere inches from Ryswell’s, voice low and simmering with menace as he hissed, “If you question my wife's allegiance to the North, then you best prepare to prove yours. She has done more for my people than your risen banners.”

Lord Bolton dared to govern order over the Stark court. "My lord, please—"

“Let me make one thing clear." His voice reverberated louder. "I will fight for her, and the North will fight for her—whether you bend or break.”

He released Ryswell, who stumbled back with a dark glare, but Cregan paid no more heed. He swept his gaze over the others, a steely finality in his eyes.

“We stand together, or our realm falls.”

Unbeknownst to them, Claere lingered in the archway of the hall, a palm against the cool stone as if bracing herself against a tidal wave. She had known the risks, known the delicate line she walked when she ventured past the Wall. And yet, in the depths of her mind, she had believed the danger would end there—with her. That it would be her own fate to face, her choice to defend, and her consequence to bear. She had never thought it would ripple out, consuming not only Winterfell but every corner of the North in the threat of savage war. Now, with Sylas the Grim bearing down on them, the cost was spreading like poison through a wound, infecting all she held dear, casting a shadow over the very halls that had given her sanctuary.

The impact of her actions goaded her, as though Winterfell itself whispered its disappointment. She felt her stomach churn as Cregan's voice rang out, his fury cracking against stone and iron like thunder, defiant, desperate to protect her.

“And I will not allow any man here to see that happen.”

But she could feel the resentment in the lords' voices, their scorn a silent sentence upon her. Their words seemed to cut deeper than any northern frost, digging into her heart until the shame became unbearable.

Without a word, she turned away from the door, her footsteps echoing hollowly as she walked into the dim solitude of the hall.

Claere moved through the towering gates of Winterfell as if stepping out from a world she could no longer right. The northern wind tore at her cloak, pulling stray strands of silver hair across her face, but her gaze was steady, her jaw set with silent resolve.

Just beyond the walls, Luna lay blanketed in a thin dusting of fresh snow, her pearly scales glinting beneath as she shook herself free, the icy fragments scattering around her like stardust. Claere approached, running her hand along the dragon’s warm, rumbling hide, fingers tracing the edges of Luna's scales.

"Eman naejot addemmagon se odre," she said to herself and her dragon. I have to pay the price. Only me.

Luna’s golden eyes narrowed as if the dragon understood more than the simple cadence of her words, the fire at the heart of those depths a spark of both promise and warning. The dragon let out a low, vibrating hum, pressing her enormous head down toward Claere in something almost like tenderness. Claere, hands splayed on Luna’s snout, whispered into the space between them, her voice scarcely above a breath.

“Iksan zūgagon, Luna," she admitted in a whisper. "Kessa ao dohaeragon nyke?” I am scared, Luna. Will you help me?

The response was a fierce snort of smoke as if Luna were granting her blessing and all her reassurance. It was not enough.

Dutifully, Claere climbed the ropes of the saddle and mounted her steed, her knees pressing tight against Luna’s warm scales, and then, with a shout that cut the still air—“Soves, Luna!”—they took to the skies. Fly, Luna!

The winds sliced against her, battering her with an unyielding chill as they soared. She had forgone her riding leathers in the haste of her choice, the coarse wind whipping at her skirts and cloak, cutting against her skin. But the discomfort was a faraway thing and such was the spontaneity of dragonblood. She flew fast, intent, her mind ablaze with thoughts of everything she had left behind and what lay ahead. Her vision sharpened as she scanned the frozen lands below, hunting for signs of the enemy’s encampment.

And finally, there—sprawling like some savage scar against the land—a camp of tattered tents and ash-dusted fires spread in defiance of the snow.

The wildlings’ camp was a raw display of grit and disorder, tents lashed together with hide and bone, rings of fire smouldering where warriors gathered in restless clusters. The sight of her shadow looming overhead sent them into frantic motion; men and women darted for weapons, cries ringing out as they readied for the worst. But Claere had no intention of launching fire or fury from above. She descended steadily, bringing Luna’s menacing form to the ground with a long, deafening roar that sent nearby men staggering.

Two wildlings rushed forward, their faces painted in streaks of ash, axes drawn, arrows already nocked in their bows. They moved with lethal purpose, but Claere was unfazed, her gaze like tempered steel.

“I must speak to the one who calls himself Sylas the Grim,” she called, her voice emphatic, tenacious.

She could feel the wild energy of Luna at her back, a silent reminder of the fire she could unleash with a mere command. Her heart hammered in the pause, yet her expression held no threat, no violence. Instead, her intentions were more profound—steeped in duty and sacrifice, fueled by a desperate love that outweighed all her fears. She was not here to rain death but to offer herself to the one who wanted her, the one who had torn peace from her hands.

“Tell him the Dragon Queen in the North is here.”

Claere stepped into the dim tent, the heavy fabric rustling behind her as it closed, sealing her within a space that reeked of sweat, smoke, and damp fur. Her eyes adjusted to the flickering torchlight, revealing a figure looming at the centre—a man so solid and coarse that he seemed an extension of the savage north itself.

Sylas the Grim. He was far taller than Cregan, broad-shouldered and massive, his age betrayed by streaks of grey in his wild mane of red hair. He wore pelts and leathers, smeared with the earth and blood of countless battles and raids, and every inch of him seemed sharpened by a life spent enduring the elements and taking what he desired.

Two guards, as fierce as hounds, lingered on either side of him, but with a single dismissive flick of his wrist, they shuffled out.

"I want her to myself," he said to them.

Sylas’s mouth twisted into a grin that split his face into his bushy beard, yellowed teeth gleaming. His eyes traced her form with a gluttonous curiosity like she were some rare prey he’d finally snared after a long, arduous hunt. Claere moved further into the tent, her posture poised, her gaze inscrutable, her calm an unsettling contrast to the predatory air he exuded.

She dipped into a curtsey, uncertain how a man like this might wish to be addressed. “My lord, allow me a proper introduction. I am Claere Stark, Lady of Winterfell.”

He let out a bark of laughter, coarse and unrestrained. “My lord? Am I your lord? I'll be King Sylas soon enough.” His eyes roamed over her, lingering at her shoulders, then her face, savouring every inch. “You’re too little for a queen. Just a baby. How old are you?”

A faint chill settled into her voice. “Six and ten, my lord. My mother is still the queen.”

Sylas’s smile widened, a feral gleam lighting his eyes. “And you will be someday. You're already a woman.”

The words hung between them, fraught with the ominous weight of his intent. Claere’s pulse quickened beneath her skin, but she remained as marble, knowing his hunger for power, for something beyond the life he’d known, radiated from every gesture. Her dragon, her birthright, the North—these were the spoils he craved. He leaned forward, his massive figure closing in, an aura of raw ferocity emanating.

Sylas's lips twisted into a grin that dripped with satisfaction as he stepped closer, his broad frame casting a shadow that swallowed the light around them. He folded his arms, leaning back with a smug, wolfish glint in his eye.

“Did you fly all this way for me?”

“I did, my lord.” Her voice was measured, smooth—a tempered blade he hadn’t yet managed to dull.

“Oh, I like it when you call me that,” he mused, his eyes glinting with perverse pleasure. “Makes me feel like a god.” He let the words roll over her, savouring each one, circling her like a predator with fresh meat. “So,” he continued, his voice lilting with mock surprise, “you’ve come to beg for mercy, then? The little queen, down on her knees? Not to kill the Stark boy?”

Claere lifted her chin, her expression as serene and cold as winter’s first frost. “You wanted me,” she said, her words quiet, unyielding. “Now you have me.”

A ripple of something feral passed through him, his grin widening into a leer, his pride feeding on her defiance.

“I don't plan on letting go. Now tell me, does the North know it bends to me through you?” His gaze roamed over her, possessive, as if she were no more than a prize he had finally claimed. “I wonder, does the wolf know that his doe strayed into the wild?”

“If you require words,” she replied, “then speak them plainly. But do not think to bait me.”

Sylas let out a bark of laughter, filling the tent with his raw, unrestrained mirth.

“Words, little queen?” he sneered. “No, I’ve got no need for words. Only the strength to take what’s mine.” He took another step toward her, his gaze alight with victory, his looming presence attempting to smother the quiet resolve in her eyes.

"Winterfell,” he paused, his gaze hardening, “the Iron Throne. And with you by my side, the North will rule the South.”

She saw it now, the intent beneath his words, as clear as day: he wanted her claim, her blood, her dragon—and through her, dominion over the entire realm. He sought the legitimacy of her claim, so unlike the Free Folk who lived outside the law. She felt the desire in his gaze sharpen, like a wolf that had tasted blood. Claere remained unbowed, every inch of her regal bearing intact, meeting his eyes with a steady defiance that amused him.

“You're a pretty girl. None are like you past the Wall—shiny things are rare in the white woods,” he mused, lifting a calloused hand to touch the edge of her lip with his thumb. His skin was rough, the gesture slow and deliberate, a feigned intimacy that carried a threat.

“I've heard about your kind. Nasty cunts, you lot. Kings with dragons for cocks. Queens that piss fire. Brother-fuckers. What were you doing out there in the snow, hm?”

His thumb lingered, the weight of it pressing against her lip, but her eyes were deadened, as though she were looking through him rather than at him. His proximity, his words—none of it shook her. She saw him for what he was, a man intent on conquest, and she would not give him the pleasure of rattling her.

“Only what’s trivial to your eyes, my lord,” she answered with measured calm, her gaze unwavering.

“Aye, maybe so,” he grunted, though the words fell bitterly from his mouth. His gaze hardened, refusing to be bested by her poise. “But you were still stupid enough to catch my eye.” His words held the bitterness of a hunter who’d finally cornered the game he’d long sought.

In truth, Sylas had spotted her months before, that slip of silver moving through the snow, a ravishing figure set apart from the northern world. He saw his chance then—a dragon rider alone, his path to dominance over more than just a scattered wildling host. He could claim the North through her, and if fate allowed, the world beyond it.

Finally, he moved his hand away and stood back, his grin widening. “But why’d you come to me? These are my lands now. You could’ve burned all my men from up there with that dragon and saved yourself the trouble.”

Claere gave a small, almost careless smile, the tilt of her head catching the dim candlelight in the tent. “You wanted me, didn’t you?” she replied, her voice smooth, level.

Sylas let out a scoff, though the amusement didn’t reach his eyes. “Came for a good fuck with a king?”

Claere blinked. “I've got that settled, my lord.”

“Ooh. No, no, that’s not it. I see it in those weird fuckin' eyes.” He bent to her eye level, the smell of woodsmoke and something sharper coming off him in waves.

“You came to kill me,” he said.

“Hmm.” Claere’s lips curved slightly, her smile a barely there promise, tinged with dark certainty. “Fortunately for you, it isn't my hands that bring your death.”

The smile faded from his face, leaving a flare of anger there, a crack in his façade. His eyes narrowed, and before she could move, his hand shot out and twisted in her thick braids, pulling her head back roughly, his face inches from hers. Claere stubbornly smothered a cry of pain in her throat.

“You think that wolf of yours is going to protect you, huh?”

Claere only sighed, her calm as impervious as ever, even as her hair tugged sharply. Her eyes, blank as winter’s endless fields, never left his face, every ounce of his threat barely a breeze against her. And just as he opened his mouth to press further, a shadow passed over the tent, the sound of heavy breathing growing closer—a thunderous exhale, deep as the earth.

“I was born with a guardian.” Claere countered softly. “My dragon is here. The wolf is a blessing.”

Sylas’s fingers twitched against her scalp, but his grip was weaker now, a flicker of doubt creeping into his predatory stare as Luna’s shadow shifted just beyond the tent walls, her breath a low, rumbling growl that vibrated through the earth beneath them.

Claere’s eyes glinted with quiet defiance as she met his gaze, her lips barely moving as she murmured, “I could say the word.” Her voice was silk over steel. “Let her burn us both here, finish this battle before it ever begins. But my husband waits for me—and he’s ready to repay in kind.”

Sylas’s face twisted, a low growl rumbling in his chest. “You think I'm scared of that boy? I killed his Night's Watch commander. I killed all those crows. I rode through the Wall for you, little queen, I don't care if he's shitting bricks when I put my axe in his head.”

“Strange,” she replied smoothly, “that you would bring all these men to capture a single girl before you march on King's Landing.” Her gaze drifted over him, cool and measuring. “Or is that all you can manage, my lord? Three thousand strong, and not a one with the grit to face the boy who stands in your way?”

He sneered, tightening his grip on her hair, another now closed around her neck, yet something in his posture had faltered, his shoulders stiffening. “I don’t need to fight him to take what’s mine.”

“Then why not march to Winterfell yourself?” Her smile was taunting, almost pitying, like a spark dancing in the shadows. “Do you fear he’ll be waiting for you at the gates? Do you fear he'll cleave your head before you can cross him?”

Sylas’s jaw clenched, his dark eyes blazing with something close to fury.

"I've seen Cregan Stark fight," she went on. "He doesn’t tire, doesn’t yield. Your three thousand could be thirty thousand, and it would make no difference. You cannot break him, he is winter itself."

His grip on her hair tightened. “Careful, girl. You’re not as untouchable as you think.”

“But I am,” Claere replied, unruffled, leaning in until her voice was a whisper only he could hear. “You know it as well as I do. Your strength lies in numbers, yet here you are—grappling with a girl and a shadow.” She leaned back, bored now. “Go home, Sylas, if you value the lives of your men. They didn’t come here to die for your pride.”

Sylas’s sneer softened, a slight uncertainty that only strengthened her resolve. He might have come to conquer, but at that moment, it was clear who held the true power in the tent.

A sudden blink released him of hesitation. His fingers roughly released Claere’s hair with a grudging smirk, as though her words had somehow shifted the game in his mind. He let her step back, looking her up and down as if appraising a newfound bounty. A flicker of excitement gleamed in his eyes—a dark eagerness that reeked of arrogance.

“Go on, then,” Sylas drawled, waving her away with a lazy flick of his hand. “Run back to your wolf and tell him I’m coming. No more raiding, no more warnings. I'll take his head his doe and the entire North at Winterfell’s gates myself.”

Claere held his gaze as she stepped back, unruffled, allowing a cool smile to curve her lips. She brushed her hands down her silver curls, arranging them around her shoulders patiently.

“Tell him yourself. I’m certain he’d love to hear it from you. My husband loves a good fight, you see.”

Sylas laughed, a booming, feral sound. “Oh, I will. I’ll bring him to his knees, make him watch while I put a prince in your belly. You’ll forget that Stark soon enough, little queen, or he'll just go deaf from hearing you scream.”

His smile was wide, boastful, but behind it lingered the faintest hint of unease—a silent recognition of the words she’d left with him, like whispers of ice drifting through the heat of his fury.

“Primitive talk from a primitive man. You’d better bring all of your legions, then,” she replied, her voice soft, but her words as pointed as any blade. “You’ll need them.”

“Little silver-haired bitch,” Sylas indistinctly growled under his breath, as if speaking aloud would bring forth the White Dread's fiery ire.

And with that, she politely inclined her head and turned, stepping out into the icy winds with her chin held high, leaving Sylas in the shadow of her dragon’s looming presence, casting him in darkness.

Cregan sat hunched over a sprawling table strewn with hastily drawn maps, half-finished sketches of battle formations, and advice from every corner of his bannermen. Some had urged caution, wary of the wildlings’ numbers and the risk to their forces. Others, bold and battle-worn, advocated for a bold strike north, encouraging him to meet Sylas with all the fire and fury of Winterfell’s strength. Yet for all their words, Cregan found himself constantly drifting back to one thought—to ride north alone, with Ice at his back, and hack down the wildling scourge himself.

The capriciousness of his decision kept him so absorbed he didn’t hear the door open or her soft steps on the stone floor. It wasn’t until she brushed past him, a warm hand resting on his shoulder, that he looked up, startled. All the exhaustion in his eyes fled, a reaction to whenever she graced him with her presence. He sat up straighter, eager to have her close.

Claere. She wore a faint smile, so casual, so beautiful, like she hadn’t spent the last days keeping to herself, hiding in plain sight, avoiding him like winter's fever. Before he could speak, she leaned in and kissed the arc of his cheek.

"Husband," she greeted quietly.

He stilled, pleasantly confused, but found himself responding instinctively, returning her kiss with a soft press of his lips to her temple. She stood beside him, hands clasped behind her back, violet eyes inspecting his plans, her experience an unspoken mystery. A hurricane in the guise of a summer breeze.

Then, he noticed it—a faint, unfamiliar scent. His brow furrowed as he sniffed the air again.

“What is that?”

She held his gaze, placid as ever. “Dragon. I was riding Luna,” she answered, her tone simple, almost childlike. Her eyes sparkled with innocent mischief, but the smell lingered, feral and sharp, more like wild meat than dragon flight.

He looked closer, and that’s when he saw it—a sickly green, darkening bruise hidden under the veil of her silver hair, two thumb-sized marks pressed just below her hairline. He stood up, anxiety overwhelming in a second, reaching toward her, but she sidestepped him smoothly, her gaze sliding to the floor.

“I fell,” she murmured, her voice light as air.

He let out an incredulous laugh, reaching for her chin to tilt her face toward him. “Here I thought you despised lies.”

Claere’s cool, unflinching gaze remained fixed on the floor for a long, unbearable second before she lifted it, unbothered by his anxieties.

"I flew to the wildling camps on the undern. To meet with Sylas the Grim.”

For a heartbeat, there was only stunned silence.

Cregan's hand dropped from her chin, falling to his side as if struck. Finally, when her situation registered, the words came, heated and fierce.

“You what?” Cregan’s voice was low, simmering. He rubbed at his eyes, sighing out, before he pointed to her bruise. "He did that then?"

She nodded. "I pushed him too far. My mistake."

“Are you mad?" he hissed.

She swallowed hard, stroking at the numbing bruise on her neck, and said nothing.

He flouted her concerning remark. "I defended you to my council—to men who would sooner see you gone than risk their lives for you! I’ve called all my banners, raised every able sword in the North—for you—and you thought it wise to stake your life before that wildling scum?”

He looked at her, half-expecting her to flinch under his fury. But she only watched him back, observant, enduring as stone, her lips pressed thin. Her calm only ignited him further.

“I spent hours preparing our defences, convincing them to stand with you, while you—” he clenched his fists—“while you went and met with the very man who could've struck you down with his bare hands. Alone!”

The crack came swift and sharp—a fire flaring to life behind her violet gaze, a flash of defiance as fierce as the flame inside her.

“I don't care, Cregan. I wanted to do the same for you.” she snapped, her silver tongue lashing. “I want to defend you. To protect you, before Sylas. For you.”

A tremor silenced the room. It was the rarest thing, her rage—rare, and somehow more daunting than his. It stole his breath and wiped the words clean off his tongue.

Cregan stared, thunderstruck, a storm gathering behind his eyes. Her words seemed to settle into him only slowly, like a wound too deep to notice at first. Claere’s fingers twitched at her sides, her lips pressed tightly together as if she were struggling to hold back her own words. She looked away, jaw set with a resolve that didn’t quite hide the tension beneath.

He exhaled harshly, dragging a hand through his hair. “Claere…” he began, voice rough with something caught between anger and hurt, “Do you even realize how careless this was, love?”

Her words came out painful. "It's all my fault."

His expression shifted, his initial anger tempered by an ache in his gaze as her admission, bare and raw, settled over the room like the aftermath of a storm.

“It’s my fault,” she echoed, her voice breaking just a little. She didn’t look at him, didn’t dare meet his eyes as the shame tightened in her throat. “I did this. They are right.”

Cregan felt his own frustration melt, a tide pulling away to reveal the harshness of his own words. He moved closer, his arms reaching out but stopping short, hovering as if afraid she’d slip through his fingers.

"Sweetling. Claere," he said, his voice a mere plea. "There's no use in laying blame, especially on you. You know I would raze half these men myself before I let them tear you down."

She shook her head, her hands clenching at her sides. “I've been an impediment for too long. We both know it. I expected things would change with time. Yet I'm playing at something I never will be...” She trailed off, and a heavy silence settled between them, her own helplessness almost unbearable.

Like hell, he would let her forget her worth for a piece of piss.

He reached for her, fingertips tracing the edge of her cheek before coming to rest under her chin, tilting her face toward him with evident resolve.

“The North will fight, but not out of fear or obligation. Because of you,” he declared to her, his voice rough with feeling. “You are of Winterfell now, Claere. And for that, we will fight.”

For a moment, her gaze flickered with uncertainty, her lips pressed tight, yet he held her there in his arms, grounding her with his assurance.

Gently, he brought her into a kiss, his lips brushing hers with a tenderness that spoke of comfort and promise alike. His hands cradled her face, his fingers threading softly through her hair as if each touch could smooth away the weight she carried. The kiss was slow, unhurried, he tasted the salt of her worry and the steel of her will, sensing the guardedness that lingered beneath her quietude. Yet his touch was firm, anchoring, a proof that there was nowhere safer, no one more ready to bear her burdens with her.

When he drew back, he lingered close, his forehead resting gently against hers, his eyes flashed with something like awe, and a low chuckle escaped him.

“You must tell me, how in the gods’ names did you manage to meet Sylas and walk away with but a bruise?”

Claere shrugged with quiet, unassuming grace, her gaze sliding past him as though recalling an idle, inconsequential memory. “I spoke with him, that’s all. Said what needed saying.”

He continued to prod. “That is all?”

“Yes. I simply suggested that if he truly wanted our kingdom, then why he hadn’t contested the King in the North himself instead of raiding innocent villages .” Her eyes met his with a calm intensity. “It seemed only fair.”

He let out a surprised laugh, brows lifting, “Fair? You took his mind off his prize and sent him marching for my gates, thinking he had something to prove?”

She simply pursed her lips, cool and composed, as if she hadn’t, with a few words, diverted the entire course of Sylas’s plan. “A bit of truth and a bit of pride can go a long way with a man like him. I thought you’d understand that.”

Her eyes flashed, calm yet watchful, and beneath her delicate, almost passive demeanour, there was a quiet ferocity that struck him. She had always worn her strength in the subtlest of ways, but in this moment, he saw her for what she truly was—a fierce, unyielding force wrapped in silks and cool smiles.

The words hit their mark—a subtle, artful dig, he had somehow overlooked.

“Why would I understand that?” Cregan’s voice was thick with mock offence, though a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Claere only arched a brow, sidestepping him with an elegance that was more of a dare than a retreat. “Oh, you’ve always had a certain… charm,” she replied, her tone deceptively light. “Men like you, like him—always so confident of their own strength. Pride blinds.”

“Pride blinds, is it? Huh, c'mere, girl. You dare speak to your lord that way?” he challenged, feigning a warning as he lunged forward, catching her around the waist. He lifted her clean off the floor with a mischievous groan, her soft laughter lilting as he spun her in a playful circle.

“Cregan!” Her laughter slipped out in breaths, both startled and, at last, easy, though her hands settled in half-protest against his shoulders. When he set her down, her cheeks were lightly flushed, her smile lingering. It was as if some sense of normality, away from the chaos, had come back into their lives.

“Guess it’s true then,” he murmured, his lips close to her ear. He urged a line of kisses from her ear to her throat, nuzzling his nose into the soft arch of her neck.

She slid her hands up to his neck, scraping her fingers lightly into the hair at his nape. "And you’re just stubborn enough to prove it.”

“I thought I’d married a princess with a pet dragon,” he teased, nuzzling into the soft curve of her neck, “but it seems I’ve got myself a queen with the cunning of a shadowcat.”

She raised a brow, almost daring him to press further. “And does that surprise you, my lord?”

His laughter boomed out, genuine and unrestrained, as he spun her again in a wide circle. "Not one damned bit."

Cregan stood tense in the night, sleep far from him, his silhouette sharp against the faint light filtering in from the slivered moon. The night air was thick with chilling doom, yet inside their chamber, Claere lay curled in quiet repose, her face softened by the kind of peacefulness that had eluded her during the day. It was almost bizarre, the way she could sleep so soundly amid the tension that hung over Winterfell. But perhaps, he thought, this chaos was the very place where she found her solace.

His gaze wandered to the heavy shadows beyond the walls, tracing the dark line of the woods against the horizon. The forests seemed to breathe with a life of their own, brimming with anticipation. He felt it ploughing on his chest, a premonition building like a slow storm.

Then it came—the steady, unmistakable drumming of many hooves and, seconds later, the crackling glow of fiery beacons lighting the night. The panic was quick, the sentries efficient, but somehow, Cregan had known. It was as though he’d been waiting for it all along.

He reached for Ice, his grip steady on the ancient sword’s hilt, and started toward the door. His stride displayed his finality, purposeful toward the death that came for him.

Sylas was here sooner than he’d expected, but in a way, the sooner, the better.

The crunch of hurried footsteps sounded from the corridor, and a guard approached, his face pale under the torchlight. “Lord Stark! Sylas the Grim… he’s come alone, my lord. Just rode up and called for you. What are your orders?”

Cregan’s eyes narrowed. The arrogance—or the conviction—it took to ride unguarded to Winterfell’s gates spoke of Sylas’s brutality and audacity, a message he knew all too well from his Free Folk brothers.

But then, a thought struck, clear as the northern wind. That meant Claere’s plan had worked—her brilliant, precarious little gamble had actually lured him here.

“Alone,” he murmured, almost to himself, and a fierce grin ghosted across his face. His clever Claere had managed to provoke the beast to come alone, his defences abandoned. Sylas had foolishly fallen for it.

With a calm that belied his steely resolve, Cregan replied to the guard, “Open the gates. If he came for a reckoning, then I’ll meet him myself.”

He felt the chill in his blood turn to iron as he stepped into the night.

thank you for reading! I'm so sad to be nearing the end :(

question for my loveliest people: who do you imagine as Sylas the Grim? I imagine someone with the same features (but nowhere as close in character) as Tormund Giantsbane.

[ taglist: @pearldaisy , @thatkindofgurl , @theadharablack , @cherryheairt , @beingalive1 , @oxymakestheworldgoround , @tigolebittiez , @cosmosnkaz , @lv7867 , @piper570 , @danikasthings , @acsc8 , @justdazzling ] -> thank you for your endless support everyone!

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faeryarchives · 10 months ago

Text

loved by the moon (riddle, leona, and azul x f!reader)

requested by @lydiacallas: Can i ask for a Moon Goddess like!Fem!Reader? Like they have magic linked to the moon, they have like- this ethereal, pure and calm vibe of the moon itself and their voice is calm too. Maybe their hair is a bit glow in the dark? With Malleus, Azul, Lilia, Riddle and Leona, please and thank you very much! 🥺✨ warning: minor spoilers to book 6 + somewhat long imagine note: reader uses she / they pronouns + is in the same grade as the boys !! this is very overdue im sorry 😣 and i based some characteristic and abilities to moonlight cookie and princess luna guilty as charged 😔 + malleus and lilia part will be in another post! recent fics: happy birthday (malleus x reader) & when your hopeless streamer gets a girlfriend (ace x reader) & its you, it always had been you

·˚ ༘ riddle rosehearts (2nd year ramshackle dorm leader)

"the decision of all professors and staffs of night raven college falls in favor for miss (name) (last name) to enroll here - exempting them from the all-boys rule. she will be in charge of the ramshackle dorm during her stay here."

riddle does not understand how on earth were you able to stay in the school and always hold yourself with such grace, he couldn't explain why your presence seems to be similar to vil like you were oozing of calm vibes

you were the total opposites - he is more accustomed to fire while you specialize in water magic*. he lose his rationality quickly while he had never see you even falter during the time you two were classmates + he always abides by the rules while you do what ever you want

"you are not allowed to sleep in class!" "it's not sleeping, i am just resting my eyes..." "you must not pick flowers from the garden on wednesdays." "riddle, i am not under the queen of hearts rules."

and riddle actually holds a one sided grudge against you for that + makes it his mission always to remind you of the rules, going on about mini rants to which you nodded to while reading your books

typically, riddle would've mention something about the rule of the queen of hearts but he was strangely quiet. you see him looking down at his notebook, lost in his world. and that surprised you because never you would've thought you would know this side of him. "no rule trivia for today?" "...huh?" "there is something on your mind, no? why don't we talk about that instead our usual trivias."

as time passed by, you and riddle gradually close friends to the point that heartslabyul treats you like their saving grace whenever riddle goes on a rampage, even more when you became second years

when the first overblot happened, it was the first time he saw your face, usually so calm, crumbled like dust when the blot manifested into a large phantom

"hahaha! the law in this world is me! not even you, (name), can stop me!" "i'm not letting you go so easily, riddle. rules are meant to protect your people, but you don't realize you are using them to suffocate them. you even hurt my dorm mates, enough of this!"

riddle was sure you wouldn't speak to him again because you weren't there the moment he woke up. he tried asking trey and cater if you were avoiding him, but they could not answer him. the next few days, he didn't even get to talk to you.

then he found himself admiring nrc at night time, breaking his own rules, maybe it's okay to let is slide for now. as he needs some time to think

absentmindedly wandering around the school grounds, letting the cool breeze feel his skin, riddle had his hand brushing through the thick bushes until they got pricked by a stray thorn "ah-" he hissed, holding up his pricked finger. it was just a tiny injury that's nothing to worry about. the injury was nothing compared to what he saw next "riddle? what are you doing this here at this hour?"

riddle spotted you sitting under the tree where silver usually takes his naps, surrounded by bunnies as they piled around your lap.

after days of not seeing each other, riddle thought he was going crazy because the last time he saw you, he knew pretty sure that your eyes and hair do not have that silver glow - it was like you were the moon itself

"is it my fault that your eyes and hair changed?" "oh, this is awkward... " you look at the bunnies trying to hide behind you, being scared of riddle's sudden appearance, contemplating about something before sighing in defeat. "i think i owe you an explanation. but first, can you keep a secret?" this confused riddle very much. what do you mean explanation? did something happen while he was out? before he could even think of it, you were already in front of him - your point and middle finger placed on his forehead. 'the moon has come out to play, now bid your worries away.' a comfortable feeling of cold wrapped around riddle's body, feeling the fatigue from his overblotting disappear, the weight on his shoulder being gone and his pricked finger healed. while riddle stared at you in shock, you finally reveal your true appearance and float around him like a curious child. "would you believe me if i told you i am the descendant of the moon goddess?"

... oh. OH !!

prepare for him because this little goldfish right here is most likely a fan of reading books about your kind + cue the sparkling eyes

and oh my god are those butterflies he can feel in his stomach? or maybe he is just hungry but he only feel that way around you though. oh well !!

** okay so i think reader will be compatible with water magic because the moon has this gravitaional pull right which cause the high tides and low tides... and riddle is fire!

·˚ ༘ leona kingscholar (3rd year transfer student)

"kingscholar, think of this as your punishment for the spelldrive incident. i would gladly take miss (name) for a tour but alas, there are countless of papers that needs my attention."

leona knew that there is something like a cloak of mysteriousness around you the moment you appeared in the college mid-year as a transfer student from rsa

just you don't interfere with his plans and he will also stay out of yours but it turns out he was assigned by the crow to take you around

"... wow, do i look like a punishment worthy chore?" you sigh, shaking your head in disappointment before turning to leona and he could swear he could see your eyes glowing for a moment when you stare at him. "i take it that the dorm leader of savannaclaw will be my tour guide?" "just don't lag behind." giving you a shrug before he started walking ahead of you. despite his short descriptions and tour around the school, leona is thankful that you didn't seem to be a nosy type of person, just a little on the calm and reserve type than most people he knew.

doesn't understand how people seems to look starstruck whenever you walk by them i mean you are attractive yes but not being able to move? that's different

it also turns out you share most of your classes! maybe crowley was really punishing him for the incident as he was stuck with you, being your babysitter.

but you almost look like his babysitter + quickly became one of the most tolerable people in the school and he doesn't mind having you around

"leona? let me bother you for a moment, can you help me with this problem?" "oh that?" the lion lifted his head and stared at the paper you were holding before waving his hand in dismissal. "remember the activity we did as partners? that's the one." "..." you squinted your eyes and leona could see them literally glow in purple light causing him to blink several times if he was seeing it right but it disappeared quickly. "oh i get it now, thanks." "do your eyes really glow like that?" "huh? i don't know what you are talking about."

you were not the nagging type - letting him hide and snooze off behind you during class and surprisingly, you were fun to spar with during practical exams + too smart for your own good

he had never seen any kind of fighting similar to yours like your fighting style is only yours to begin with - not only you excel in defending, you never seem to get tired despite being a speedy defender.

you and the savanaclaw dorm leader spent the whole afternoon sparring with each other and by the time you notice it, the sun was already setting. "aren't you tired yet, leona?" "you better tell me how you manage to keep up with me all this time." you did say to keep up with you the first time we met." you twirl your spear around you before stabbing it on the ground, leaning on it and grinned at leona. "i'm just keeping my promise."

now leona was pretty sure you are not a normal transfer student + especially after fighting with you in the island of woe and it was pretty interesting how you unexpectedly exposed yourself in front him and jamil.

the moment you, who was assigned to be in the front of the group due to you having the most capable defensive powers, entered the room on the current sector, leona and jamil look at your back in surprise. "(name)-senpai?" "what's up, jamil?" "... is that a normal thing for you?" the room was oozing with the presence of phantoms everywhere and there was no source of light - aside from your hair locks that are now shining like a billowing night sky of twinkling stardust, borne in a void of black and fading in an indigo moonset "oh that's normal, we can just use it as source of light. save your magic for now." "no wonder your magic feels different from everyone else - you are a moon goddess, right?"

leona is not blind, he just need a solid evidence to confirm his gut feeling. unique magic spells + signature spear + glowing eyes and your hair locks literally looking like that?

while fighting along side each other, leona could literally leave his back open because heknew and trust that you always have his back and vice versa

"leona-senpai, watch out-" before jamil could jump in between the incoming attack and leona, you pulled the second year by his hood deflected the attack with your spear so effortlessly. "it's fine, moon fairy here got our backs." you hear leona said proudly before landing a critical hit on the phantom. "aren't you glad you're stuck with us?"

everyone in school knows how two of you would make an unbeatable duo when it comes to strategies and games

and not going to lie, leona thinks so too! you are strong, smart and everything above + treats you life his closest friend and respects you a lot but you do things sometimes that are not really necessary

"are you done yet?" he couldn't help but ask, his tail thumping on the floor with annoyance while you tried braiding some parts of his hair.

you peek over his should and smiled, trying to show him the small braid that you did on the side. "yeah, it's fun braiding your hair!" after your identity being revealed, you let yourself relax more around him - when you express happiness, your hair starts glowing as it did before and small crescent like moon thingy start appearing around you

... leona find that cute + now he understand why people become starstruck when it comes to you

**you know how moonlight cookie's hair color looks like? yeah that's the one!

·˚ ༘ azul ashengrotto (2nd year ramshackle vice dorm leader)

"did you hear about the rumors? recently, students are saying that when you go to the botanical garden at night and stand under the moonlight - all your questions will be answered!"

the fact that rumors like that exists made azul irritated because it means he got competition. and having competition in the thing he do best is not fun.

so he and the twins went to investigate - how and where the rumors first started and who are most likely to be involved in the case

surprisingly enough, it all leads to a certain ramshackle vice dorm leader aka you + azul already knew you due to being the same year and his 'rival'

he considers you as his rival because you two always seem to fight for the top 2 and 3 spot every exam but for you... i think he would be hurt if you say that you like to aim for the top spot because it's fun 🤩

it was during lunch time and you were planning to eat with yuu, grim and the others when all of a sudden, someone blocked your way out by leaning on the door. "(last name) can i ask a bit of your time? i would like to ask you regarding an important matter." the ever so charismatic azul asked, his usual charming smile on as if he wants to do business with you. "oh, hi azul. what is it about?" "how delightful! do you happen to know the rumor about your unanswered questions will be answered as you stand under the moonlight?" "there is a rumor like that? under the moonlight? why the specifics?" one thing that azul observed about you is that your emotion reflects on your eyes. call it his gut feel but just one look and he already knew you were telling the truth "a pity... it seems like i am back to square one." "... maybe i can go help you out? i am not that busy these upcoming days."

and so azul's little group grew in numbers consisting of him, you, yuu, grim and the twins. oddly enough, it was actually fun to hang out with you

azul never got to interact with you that much before and only knew information about your through papers and from what he heard from people but being with you right now exceeds his expectations

"if headmaster crowley is similar to crow... do you think he likes to hoard shiny things?" you suddenly whispered it to azul one day in class, your mind clearly wandering and not paying attention to what professor trein is writing on the board. "what is with the random thought?" what is we leave a trail of shiny things and create a trap, that would be really funny."

you were an oddball. sometimes you will joke around with him and trying to make him laugh during class. there are also times where he couldn't explain the calming feeling he had whenever you are around + he could never even feel any other intentions from your actions as if you genuinely want to become his friend

it took him a while to notice how you always seem to stand out and become the embodiment of grace and elegance - a confident yet modest person who knows what you want

you always help him out in solving the rumor mystery but there is something that made you look suspicious → you always go back to your dorm before sunset

it's not that he wants to take up all your time but the way you stand firm of not being able to join them during night time and saying how dangerous it is made him suspect you of something

so he went alone wearing his ceremonial robes (the twins are taking over his duties for a while i know very unbelievable but imagine) to investigate the botanical garden and there he saw you run inside - a trail of silver light following you behind

and when azul went inside to stand in the spot, trying to think of what to wish until he hears a familiar voice ringing in the building

"say your wish out loud and the moon will light its way to you." "well, now this is marvelous. can i see one guiding my wish for me?" azul looked up, trying to call out for you, even looking around to see signs of you. there was a moment of silence before he heard you sigh and in an instance, you appeared before him, avoiding his look. "i thought i told you to let it go?"

after finding out you were his competitor - he didn't really feel annoyed at all! rather he was intrigued on how you were able to do it ...? you help the students find the answers on their own in their dreams?!

seeing your hair glow in silver light in the dark reminds him of himself as some octopus also glow in the dark just like him!

"azul, do you know that i really admire you?" "me? what is there to admire about me? i do nknow i have a remarkable potential but compared to y-" "no, seriously. you don't need to compare yourself to me. having to do all these business related work AND studying at the same time? you should appreciate yourself more."

... do you want to make him cry on the spot? hearing such words makes him happy but hearing it from you aka one of the people he really admire and yes he admits he admire you as a rival - his emotions are going haywire.

even if he is smart, it will take time for azul to realize that his admiration is just growing stronger and stronger each day and bloom into something else

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland scenarios #twst scenarios #twst imagines #riddle rosehearts #riddle roseheart x reader #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #faeryarchives #a.twst #a.heartslabyul #a.savanaclaw #a.octavinelle #twst x reader

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