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dreamersinthedaylightinspo · 1 year ago

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LAMENT AFTER THE END, PART I

Once they had recovered their treasures - those few precious tomes that Amarantha had looted from their sacred libraries - Helion winnowed his entire Court away from the mountain.

He did not have a destination in mind, apart from "away." So they landed on the northern base, crowded in rocks and barren grasslands, breathing in the fresh air of Dawn.

Several people collapsed around him. Others wailed, or burst into tears.

Relief.

Helion tilted his head back to the thin mountain sun and felt the magic coursing through his veins. His own magic, his family's ancient magic, the Light of Day, which had now officially passed to him.

It felt strange - uncomfortable, too large and awkward, and yet like something was still missing inside of him.

Perhaps he just was imagining things, though.

Or perhaps -

He turned to regard the crowd. His Court, the Day Court. The weight of what he was about to do - to endure - fell over him, choking him. His throat began to burn; his very eyes began to ache.

And yet there was one thing - the worst thing - that he needed to do first.

Helion’s feet moved him to where Daphne sat, still clutching her dead fiance and stroking the side of his face, as if she were soothing him to sleep. Her face was wet with tears but her eyes were slightly fogged over; she appeared not to have noticed the winnowing at all.

"Daphne." He crouched down in front of her, and spoke in a low, soft voice. "Daphne, can you look at me?"

She didn't respond, but her eyes cleared slightly and her mouth pressed tight together.

"Its alright. I just need you to listen to me for a little bit. We're safe now. We're free. Do you understand?"

Daphne’s continued movements took on a more deliberate cadence. She clutched Thales tightly, knuckles pressing bright against the skin of her thin, small hands.

She looked like her mother, before the changeling sickness had taken Theano into eternity. Helion closed his eyes.

"You have to let him go now," said Helion. "I'm sorry, my love. It's time. We have to take him home."

"We aren't going home," Daphne replied, flat and quiet. "We'll go to Rhodes."

"That's right."

"So, I will never go home again."

Helion sighed. "Not for a long time, I expect. But someday, very soon, we'll go back to visit."

Daphne said nothing for a long time. Helion waited for her to wrap her mond around this. What was to come would be hard on all of their Court, but on her most of all. Daphne had not asked to have this kind of responsibility; she'd never expressed any desire to have power, to rule. She would have been terribly happy as the bride of a penniless poet, thought Helion, and this world was unbearably cruel in denying her that future. But they couldn't live on dreams. They had to exist in this reality, and she would have to accept that now, no matter how painful it was.

"What are you going to do?" said Daphne, at last, gazing down at Thales. "His parents are gone. But his sister - can you find her?"

Helion would have promised her anything - the whole world - in that moment. There were rumors of surviving Keepers in Rhodes but at this moment, Helion had no way of verifying them. Thales had believed in his sister's survival, and had carried that faith to his grave. Now, Helion clung to that belief in turn. "I'll find her. She'll be the first to know. I promise."

Daphne nodded, and sniffed loudly, a fresh wave of tears beginning to well in her eyes.

Desperately, Helion went on: "Darling, I know that this isn't easy. I know, I know. You've already been so brave but I need you to be brave a little longer. We'll honor him. I promise. This whole Court - all of us - we will grieve with you. Let us share your burden. Please, my love. Please, just let him go."

Daphne went very still, and her eyes went wide. Slowly, she looked up at him - and that look on her face. Helion realized his error at once. She'd had that same look, when he arrived late to her mother's funeral all those decades ago.

It was rage. It was pure, unfathomable rage.

"This whole Court?" Daphne whispered. "You mean that - no. Why would you do that? Its not fair. You can't do that."

Helion bit his tongue, cursed himself straight into Hell. "Daphne -"

"No. No, you can't do that."

Her voice rose with each word. Now people were staring at them openly - the High Lord, pleading with the girl who'd lost her beloved, not understanding what was really happening. Not realizing what a horrible mistake that Helion had made.

"Daphne," said Helion. "Please."

"No. No. No. No!" Daphne shook her head. "I won't let you!"

"Daphne -"

"Please."

That was what she said but her voice sounded like she was being ripped in two. She began to sob, such a horrible, heartbroken sobbing, that Helion physically recoiled, getting to his feet and stepping away. Even those who had pretended not to be observing them before now stared openly, in horror.

"You can't," Daphne wailed. "He's mine, you can't take him, you can't do this to me, please, please don't take him away, you can't make me, I won't do it, I won't, I won't, I can't -"

She let out an agonized scream, and rocked back and forth, clutching Thales to her and burying her face in his hair, and it was as if all the pain and the fear she'd held in check for fifty years came pouring out of her at once.

Helion felt bile rise to his throat. He bit his cheek until he tasted blood, squeezed his eyes shut like a child hiding from a broken vase. Knowing that it was his fault, wishing that he could take it back, that his mistake would disappear.

She would have run into the center of the throne room and thrown herself between Thales and the Cursebreaker, if he had let her.

So, Helion had held her down with his own hands, and she had watched.

////

It was Phoebe, the young wife of a minister, who finally calmed Daphne. Once she finally fell silent, more owing to the fact that she was too exhausted to sob anymore, Daphne calmly requested to take a sedative. She still did not let go of Thales's body. In the horrid, empty, sorrowful silence that followed, a few members of the Dawn Court arrived near their makeshift campgrounds, and invited them to the High Lord's residence.

Thesan was good-looking and composed, and managed to be gracious as a host. He took the Day Court in with few questions, and even fetched a healer for Daphne, and showed her to a private room overlooking the water gardens. Daphne was reluctant to relinquish Thales even then, but with the healer and Lady Phoebe's gentle coaxing, she finally did. Helion arranged for the initial funeral preparations right then and there, instructing the Dawn Court healers on the proper methods to prepare for a Day Court funeral. They nodded, and disappeared on gusts of floral-scented wind, taking the boy's body into a quiet space to prepare him.

Thesan posted two guards outside of Daphne's room, and instructed the healer to remain on standby. Lady Phoebe volunteered to stay as well, so that she might have a friendly face when she woke up.

Good, thought Helion, because Daphne would likely never speak to him again for as long as she lived.

When it was done, Thesan politely invited Helion to a meal, which they ate in silence. Helion found he could barely stomach anything other than a bowl of warm white rice, and Thesan, similarly, pushed food around his plate without any enthusiasm whatsoever. Afterwards, he declared that he would walk in the water gardens. Helion, feeling a bit like a ghost on the world's surface, agreed to join him.

The gardens were lively under the deepening purple twilight. The iridescent sheen on the palace walls - Helion had not even asked where they were, hadn't even thought of where Dawn might spirit them off to in their moment of vulnerability - cast pearlescent illusions over the green surface of pools full of lilies and lotus and brightly colored fish. Frogs croaked, and birds twittered from within low hanging trees.

"Its lovely," Helion remarked. The silence was starting to bother him, even if conversation felt exhausting. "You know, I've never been here before."

"Neither have I," said Thesan.

Ah, right. Thesan was also a new High Lord. Helion wondered if he'd ever been in this palace before, or any palace. As a lieutenant, he would have had some access, but Dawn closely guarded its secrets.

The two High Lords lapsed into an uncomfortable silence, eyes cast out at the lush water gardens of Dawn as the first stars began to appear.

"Thank you," said Helion. "Your generosity won't be forgotten." Then, he added, "Please, don't judge her. It's my fault that she..." It felt wrong to call Daphne’s grief an outburst, but it was something that Helion had never seen her do before. Even as a child, she never had tantrums. He hadn't realized the depths of her suffering these last fifty years, and he wished he'd been more perceptive, less foolhardy, in that moment when she was so raw and vulnerable.

He had tried to be the High Lord, when what Daphne needed was her father.

"I wouldn't dream of it. For what its worth, I wish someone would let me take a sedative," said Thesan, with a sigh. "Gods only know I haven't gotten a decent sleep in over fifty years."

Helion choked on his own surprised laugh. Thesan had made a point to avoid speaking with anyone outside of the Dawn Court while they were trapped Under the Mountain. It was good to know that he had a sense of humor under all of that prudent standoffishness.

But the humor didn't last. Helion thought of Daphne, asleep in a proper bed for the first time in fifty years. He thought of how she'd looked at him when they'd stepped into the sun and of how she might look at him when she woke from her induced sleep, the grief as fresh as ever.

"She'll never forgive me," he murmured. "I've done it this time."

Thesan was quiet a moment, and then, tentatively ventured. "If I may - what is she to you?"

"Oh," said Helion. "Only second or third most severe of my many personal failings."

It was horrible, thinking of it that way. Helion truly felt like the worst man alive. This now made three women whom he had utterly failed.

"I swore to her mother," said Helion, "that I would care for Daphne."

"She died?" Thesan murmured.

"A changeling," Helion explained, sighing. Of course, someone as brilliant and sharp as Theano had to be taken from this world before her time. "She lived three hundred years, when every healer swore she'd be dead in a fraction of the time. And if she were here now, she'd throttle me with her bare hands."

Thesan folded his arms, tilted his head back. "I've never really thought of it, you know. Raising children of my own - it seems an enormously daunting prospect."

Helion shrugged.

"Does anyone else know?" asked Thesan. "You two don't resemble one another very much, so I suppose that was how you managed to hide her all this time."

He was perceptive. Even Rhysand had never guessed that Helion might have legitimate children of his own, but then again, he had never seen Helion interact with Daphne, and Helion had put most of his remaining magic into carefully compartmentalizing his mind over the last fifty years. It might've taken Rhysand hours to break through his shields, and by then Amarantha would have been bored of him anyway. There was no torture he would not have endured, no horror he would not commit, if it meant keeping Daphne, his daughter, his greatest treasure, safe from Amarantha.

Here, Helion didn't bother to deny it; there was no point to keeping plausible deniability with Thesan, and it would have seemed wrong to lie, given all that he had done without nary so much as a thank you from any member of Day.

"Hardly anyone. My - my former partner," he amended, wincing with the sudden, unexpected ache of sadness. "Mirche was aware. As were most of the staff at my winery. But outside of Thira, I doubt there's anyone who knows the full truth."

Thesan nodded, all of accepting this. "I see. Well, if nothing else, I must congratulate you. Hiding palaces or cities is one thing, but to hide a child for so long, right under our noses - you are truly something else."

Helion shook his head. "I had decided to host a public mourning for the boy. That was why she..."

"She's young," said Thesan. "And she is grieving, perhaps more than any of us right now. All of us lost pieces of ourselves in that Mountain, but not all of us were forced to play a part in Amarantha’s last cruel joke. I know you did not ask for my opinion, but I believe that she will understand, one day."

He had a point. Or at least, Helion hoped that he did.

"What will you do now?" Helion asked him. "For your Court."

Thesan was quiet a moment. "Her name was Sacha. She did not finish her training, so she has no temple sisters, and she had no family living that we could find. But I will keep looking. I've told Hadrian - it doesn't feel right, for her to be unmourned."

This was the first time he'd learned the name of the Peregryn captain who had scarcely left Thesan's side in fifty years, despite the risk to himself if their relationship were to be exposed. Helion put a hand on his shoulder.

"You'll do well, as High Lord."

"As, I think, will you," said Thesan, gravely now. "Shall we go back inside?"

Neither of them would sleep, but that went unspoken. There was something comforting, in knowing that they were united in this. Helion had no recollection of any opinion on Dawn's former High Lord, but as he watched Thesan retreat into privacy and the doors slide closed behind him, he was, if not relieved from his burdens - at least he was not alone.

#my fic writing #my ocs #the day court #helion spell cleaver #thesan acotar #dawn court #snippet

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acourtoftoomanythoughts · 2 years ago

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All of Me (Prologe) Eris Vanserra x OC! series)

Eris Vanserra x OC

Summary: The princess of Dawn, sister of High Lord Thesan finds herself Under the Mountain after rebelling against Amarantha, and catches the eye of Autumn heir Eris Vanserra. The chapters will show snipbits of how their relationship progresses from Under the Mountain, the war against Hybern, and eventually to Eris being crowned High Lord. Is the cruel heir to the Autumn court capable of making a friend, let alone loving someone? Find out, as the kind, soft, and silly adorned Princess of Dawn, Brie, enchants the red-head.

Warnings: Amarantha's abuse, semi-graphic descriptions of feather plucking, blood, Vanserra family line and all their cruel activities

Word Count: 2,937

Note: Hey y'all, this is my first story I'm posting. I've never done something like this but I just couldn't get this idea out of my head, so enjoy! Also, I'm hoping to write requests and headcanons for ACOTAR, so drop some suggestions. Thank you for reading, constructive criticism is welcome.

---

It was just another normal day for Eris - moving around his father's toddler-like temper, keeping his brothers in check, and caring for his mother in the most distant way possible.

The heir to the thrown was moved Under the Mountain along with the rest of his royal bloodline after his father struck a deal with the red-headed wannabe Queen. For fear of his power and court being taken from him, the High Lord of Autumn agreed to support Amarantha and her reign, although reluctantly.

As was said before, it was another normal day in the surrounding darkness of being under the mountain, laying around decay much uglier than the permanent decay of Autumn. There were no jeweled forests full of reds, browns, yellows and oranges. Although the darkness of the stone resembled home in the Forest House, it's red marble floor could not match the rubies within the Forest House's walls. Even the chandeliers of jewels above the crowds or the intricate markings of the history of Prythian on the pale rock walls, could not compete with the beauty of Autumn . Instead there were cronies lurking around in the weak light, with one wrong move making you the Queen's dinner.

As of now she was sitting of her black throne with a gown made of Peregryn feathers, each plucked out from the creature's wings multiple weeks beforehand - a newfound enjoyment of Amarantha's. Their screams echoed through the halls, with pleas for sparred pride - so much so that almost all of the Peregryn's whose feathers were plucked and wings bore bare, committed suicide thereafter.

Amarantha's current appetite was satisfied, but soon enough her hunger would fester and begin again, and the same events that played the night before would repeat themselves. Eris would put himself in front of his mother to save her from the wrath of the Queen, snicker at the torments to please his father, and go back to his bedchamber for another restless sleep.

The crowd was bustling with life, with some faking their enjoyment and others lost in the faerie wine and pleasure. The elegant light of the throne room contrasted heavily from the dark corridors of the rest of the mountain. String music and piano drafted through the walls, enticing others to dance.

Most people were dressed in dark and rich colors, contrasting the Queen's stark white gown. Standing beside her throne, the High Lord of the Night Court observed, a lazy grin plastered across his features. He was decorated in tight black pants that matched his lose midnight tunic that exposed the swirls of tattoos across his chest.

Eris only huffed. Only in this world would Rhysand find his way out of this catastrophe. His court was brutish, full of nothing but lesser fae built only for war and rumors of constant torture escaping his land. There was no happiness in the court of darkness.

Eris observed the mingling crowd, paying special attention to his mother from the corner of his perspective. His mother, with her long auburn hair and russet brown eyes, looked into the crowd with a black stare atop his father's lap. The sight between them has become more common during these times, a tactic, Eris suspected, was another way to assert control over her.

Her emerald dress flowed from her, contrasting the perfectly tailored brown suit his father wore. Beron spoke boastfully towards his kin, sneering and laughing at the enjoyment of the night. Eris always festered a hate for the male in front of him - the short brown hair, beard, how his too-perfect appearance was another way to establish dominance to others surrounding him.

Eris faked a laugh at one of his father's jokes, something about females being inferior, and then swirled his fae wine. He took only a sip, never drinking too much, always on edge just in case. Between the threat of his father's temper or his younger brothers willingness to eradicate him from the throne, Eris never allowed himself too much pleasure. Whether it be sleeping too deep, drinking too much or enjoying anything - a female, a possession, a dream - Eris knew discipline was the only way to survive in the hellish world he was born into.

The party continued, the evening turning later, with two of his brothers disappearing towards the crowd, set on some High Fae females from the Winter Court, hoping for some company for the night. His father had left to talk with some associates from Autumn, loudly speaking about how great a High Lord he was for 'saving' his court from turmoil. His mother sat starring off in space, hand placed perfectly in her lap. Eris could have sworn every once in a while her gaze traveled to the newly appointed High Lord of Day, the details of why, Eris knew well.

Eris continued to sip from his wine, observing his brothers failing to gain attention of those Winter Court females, keeping his eye of his mother, and engaging in brisk talk with his younger brother, who of which was an impeccable duplicate of Beron. Not only in looks, but in personality and cruelty - the original fifth to the throne, now third in line, could be argued to have more of a brutal reputation than Eris'.

Then it happened...

A yelling - no, screaming erupted in the halls, slowing the voices to silence in the main room. All heads snapped towards the corridors leading towards different, unfathomable routes. The crowd began to part, making a path from the corridor straight to the red-headed bitch. There, her pointy ears perked upwards at the distressed sounds, and Rhysand narrowed his eyes towards the stone entrance. Before Eris set his eyes on the attraction, he noted a glint of amusement in Amarantha's gaze.

All eyes set upon an ugly Attor, drug a girl up towards the Queen, clawed hand digging into the hair of the girl. The girl could be no younger than 100 but no older than 200 years-old, with tan skin that glowed more than that of the High Lord of Day. Her brown hair was flecked with highlights of gold and reached to her mid-back, and bangs covered her forehead. Freckles, a rarity amoung fae, spread across her cheeks.

She bore a satin purple floor length dress, with a slit up the left leg and immaculate laced sleeves covering her arms. The leg that showed from her slit, showed thicker thighs than most fae females, less slender and more built out, with muscle hidden underneath her skin. She held a fuller face and body but was attractive in her own right - she had an allure to her, not in the seductive beauty that would be assumed, but in the soft and kind beauty her being projected. Her clothing choice, and the amount of intricate gold trinkets and jewellery decorating her gown and body identified her as hailing from the Dawn Court.

Eris swore he heard another shout, more masculine, coming from the crowd, as the girl came closer towards the black throne. Her screaming, was a mix of cuss words and a foreign language, and though it was indeed screaming, her voice did not go too loud. As she was drug across the red marble floor, she locked eyes with the High Lord of Dawn, Thesan, and a look of terror crossed both of their faces - they must be lovers or related if they cared about each that much, Eris thought to himself.

Thesan had the audacity to follow the Attor and the girl, on their heals the breath was stole from his body. He had brown hair curling over his head, brown skin glowing, though more pale than usual, and a slender build, dressed in tan flowing pants and a covered lose shirt. As they were seen closer together, it was easy to see the relation between them. Though the girl wasn't as slender as him, and seemed shorter than most fae females, she had the same nose and glow that Thesan radiated. Their cheekbones held the same structure and both had similar quiet attitudes surrounding them.

The High Lord of Dawn stopped as the Attor threw the girl in front of Amarantha, arms useless at his sides. A soft groan erupted from the girl while Amarantha smiled cruelly.

“What have we here… Dawn royalty?” She questioned.

Amarantha lounged on her throne, one leg crossed over the other, a hand under her chin in amusement. The girl had lifted her face, a streak of blood on her cheek and a bruise quickly forming on her face. The girl set her features into a school of coolness, her lips pressed and blue eyes set on the Queen, as if the girl thought she was equal of better than the Queen in front of her.

As their eyes interlocked and Amarantha raised a brow in challenge, the girl stood on shaky legs, standing to her full height and lifting her chin in acknowledgement, as if to say 'bring on your worst'. The Queen noticed the slight challenge, while Thesan, wild eyed, loosed a breath.

"Is it, that we have here," the Queen gestured to the crown with a wicked laugh, "The princess of Dawn, younger sister of the High Lord?"

Another gleam of statistic pleasure glossed through her eyes as she looked down at the princess, who though stood straight with posture perfected over time, set in her stubbornness, the girl was still just a girl, weak compared to the Queen. She appeared short and non-threatening, except for a glowing fire in her dark blue eyes, like she's held such battles before.

Eris admired the stubborned face she kept, and spared a glance at his father's curl of a smile, ready to see another cruel torture.

It wasn't main knowledge that the previous High Lord had sired two children, the now High Lord Thesan, and a daughter, of which little was known about. She was a marvel to the Court's royalty, and only made appearances in the Solar Courts balls. But even then, she was thought to be the perfect, silent virgin girl who still lived in a fantasy, adored by those who knew her in Dawn. In fact, Beron had tried to set up one of his sons with the princess, to gain a better alliance, only to be denied by her father with vicious intent.

“So,” the Queen stated, bored. “Have you a name? Or shall I take it out of you?”

The girl wasted no time. "Brie," she answered in a soft but stern tone, chin lifting higher and eyes narrowing. Her soft features were schooled into an unnatural stone wall, making her look older.

“Brie,” Amarantha tasted the name on her tongue. “And tell me, how did she get here?” She asked the Attor.

He looked up at her, black smokey face turned into a wicked smile, sharp teeth pointing. His voice echoed like death, "We have finally caught her - found her secure hiding sport, in a small town called Aruna. She'd been leading the rebellion against us," he tsked.

"Don't worry, my Queen, the rebels were taken care of - in front of their majesty. They have been exterminated."

A look of sadness crossed her eyes, and regret. "She was also looking into ways to dethrone you, my Queen," the Attor was almost laughing at this, excited for the outcome.

A shadow glazed Amarantha's face, a threat to her power was the last thing she wanted.

"I supposed," she began. "Some more punishment shall be bestowed upon the Dawn Court. They did so wonderful," she said in a mock frown and baby voice, pouting her lower lip. "I know it was about time until someone tried again, but atlas, I am too powerful! I captured all the High Lords, what made you think you could take me down?"

A cackle rang out throughout the room, echoing into the stone routes etched into the walls. Thesan still stood behind the Attor, though he looked, truly, as if death had fallen upon him with what the Queen said next.

The Queen stood, long red hair coming in waves over her shoulders, the white feathers of her dress flaring out at the bottom and showing her cleavage at the top. She walked towards Brie, slowly but calculated. She caught Brie's chin in between her thumb and fingers, pulling her face towards hers.

"Perhaps you need a reminder of how kind I am," she suggested. "I could kill you, brutally, or I could kill your brother - who knows what other more suitable male would fill his position." A gleam of worry shown in Brie's eyes at the threat of her brother's life, with a twitch of her nose at Amarantha's jab towards her brother's sexuality - who was rumored to enjoy both females and males. Not a crime, or an oddity in this world, but certainly a scandal in the traditional court of Autumn.

"But I'll settle on this, so next time you, or your people, think of rebelling, you'll remember at what cost it comes with." Amarantha hummed before beginning her assault.

The Attor finally let go of Brie, as did Amarantha, landing her on her knees, a gasp leaving her throat. Amarantha worked herself, beating the girl with her magic and a metal bar that a cronie had given her in the middle of the process. The beating was lighter than the majority that had been seen, bit it wasn't until after Amarantha's abuse did people understand the full length of the punishment.

Brie sported a left elbow that fell at her side, loose and broken - more shattered, in every way - with bruises over her face, arms and legs. The elegant Dawn gown she wore was ripped in many places, now exposing her stomach, a bit of her undergarments (a black lace that left Eris' brothers snickering), and slashes across her collarbone. Blood stained the material darker than it already was.

The wounds did not heal, meaning she was under the influence of faebane beforehand. Brie gasped in pain, face distorted, and clung to her left arm with her right, and stayed kneeled over on the ground, barely gaining composure. She took the pain, with some screams flying out of her mouth, and now a few tears had escaped her eyes.

Thesan had stepped back towards the crowd by this time, an order from the Queen herself, and the previous glow he seemed to radiate was vanished by now. His face was also twisted in pain, his eyes showing a sadness. The Queen, covered in blood, smiled above the girl, throwing the metal bar across the room, hitting an innocent bystander.

"Rhys," She began. "Take her back to our room."

At that statement, the whole crowd knew the expense of her punishment. Brie's head lifted with a sort of panic in her eyes. Rhysand seemed to hesitate, almost, as if him and Brie had once had a connection, before grabbing her by the left arm, admitting a shriek from Brie. Thesan behold the sight, and in a matter of seconds Rhysand drug Brie down the path as tears escaped Thesan's eyes as well.

"Let this be a reminder," spoke Amarantha. "Of my kindness." A pointed look, and then she turned towards the throne, "Music!" she yelled, and everyone went back tot he ball as if nothing had happened.

The blood was still on the floor, but people walked over it in their returned mingling. Beron laughed and the sons of Autumn continued towards the females they set their eyes on prior. Eris' brother next to him, Rory, snickered, "Typical idiotic female. At least Rhysand will get a break from the bitch."

Eris played along, nodding his head, before swirling his wine again, gaze lingering towards Thesan, who turned towards a group of Dawn individuals. All the courts members looked distraught over the princess, and by the end of the night, Thesan and the other escorts, would return to their chambers early.

That night, as Eris escorted his mother to her and his father's bedchamber, his couldn't shake the girl, Brie, from his mind. As he laid in bed, looking up at the grey stone of his bedchamber, one more luxurious than others due to the Autumn's commitment to Amarantha, he remembered the events of her encounter. Her silent stubbornness, how her pain, despite controlled, erupted more pain in the Dawn's residents. Perhaps, having a sibling who was hurt from them being in pain was what having a sibling was supposed to be like. Instead of a relief, like it would have been between Eris and his brothers, another weight off his back.

Eris sighed, annoyed at the distraction - it was just another instance of the day. So, he closed his eyes, resting on the semi-cool bed.

That night his sleep had been worse than it usually was throughout his life, with dreams of a dewy countryside and soft clouds against a cobalt sky. A place only a few dreams in his life had taken him to, usually after his father tortured him - although none were as vivd as this nights was.

This dream was different, with a soft smile upon him and a delicate hand running through his hair, then down over his scarred back, in the dream. It could have been peaceful to others, but to Eris, the comfort was painful. Nothing was ever comfortable in his life, despite the palace of which he lived.

He awoke with a soft sweat coating his bare skin, and decided to splash some water on his face before returning to his bed, thinking, again, of the princess from Dawn.

Brie.

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sketchyorsomething · 1 year ago

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I wanted to introduce one of my OCs: Asker Quang! He's a peregryn and came to the palace of dawn court at 26 to become a soldier even though the reason he started training the traditional peregryn fighting style was, that he wanted to learn more about wounds and the body in general to become a better healer. But because Thesan's father was a bit more conservative he had a hard time to get acknowledged as a healer. He's really good at it though, a damn nerd. Besides healing, he spends his free time drawing (anatomical sketches) and training, which he still likes nonetheless. After he finished his studies he took it on himself to write a book about wings and how to heal them (with additional illustrations if course). Regarding that he's the healer with the best grades in the last couple of years, his skills and knowledge comparable only to Thesan himself, they're good friends. The two of them bonded especially over their common learning of the old language (which Thesan had to learn since he is the heir/High Lord and which Asker just wanted to learn because why not (nerd (affectionately but shh don't tell him that))) Anyway, he's also an Enfp, if anyone wants to know

#this is far more detailed than it should be #and I even left things out #He hasn't finished the book yet btw #bc when he met his mate (my other oc) he met an illyrian so he also wants to add his knowledge of their wings #he also is a seer #right now (acosf) he's 115 #kinda regret naming him the way I did as it isn't an asian/vietnamese name #(if you've read my other post I said that i personally based the peregryn on vietnam)#but the name itself is hilarious #It either means soldier in turkish or ash tree/god and spear in a norse language #I especially like the meaning of ash tree because in norse mythology the world-tree (yggdrasil) is an ash and it's a sign of life #which is cool bc he's a healer #but also a bit morbid bc he's a fae an ash wood would kill him #anyway #peregryn #dawn court #acotar oc #thesan #winged oc #acotar fanart #art #art of the day #woman artist #aphantasia artist #aroace artist #digital art #ibispaintx #artists on tumblr

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celosiart · 16 days ago

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Pretty much nine hours went into this. If I knew I was gonna do all that I would’ve made him less lopsided 😭 the flowers are pomegranate blossoms, passionflowers (I invented the colour), and gorse. For some reason I forgot to add wolfsbane but I’m too lazy to add it now.

Progress shots:

#art #apotheosis: aberrant #oc art #original character #progress shots #oc #dawn court #the putrefactor

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ohbueckers · 2 months ago

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TWO CAN PLAY THAT GAME. you dope, have a player ‘bout to choke, i was at a loss for words first time that we spoke.

CHAPTER ONE! pairing, paige bueckers x teammate!oc. notes, new ju series just dropped who clapped… i’m so excited for this so please let me know what you think and what you wanna see!!! it’ll feature a few different tropes (these bitches are complicated as hell) and i’ll be using different songs. this was also supposed to be out yesterday whoops. warnings, not much just some slight rivalry.

april, 2022

paige sat on the floor, her back pressed against azzi’s bed, eyes staring blankly at her phone screen. the dorm was packed to the brim, all of her teammates crammed into the room, waiting for the news to drop. she wasn’t sure why her palms felt clammy, or why her heart was hammering harder than it should be for a thursday night in late april… or she was completely sure and refused to come to terms with it.

we’re really doing this again, huh?

it had been weeks since the national championship loss, and yet the sting still hadn’t faded. south carolina. dawn staley’s generational ran gamecocks who got almost everything, including that damn sana caruso.

for years, their careers had paralleled each other, both rising basketball stars, always in the spotlight, always part of the same conversations. and yet, for reasons paige couldn’t quite figure out for the life of her, they had never crossed paths. sana was stubborn, that much she knew. paige remembered the day south carolina landed her—it had been all anyone could talk about. opinions flew in every direction: sana should’ve gone to stanford, to ucla, anywhere but there. paige couldn’t lie—part of her had wondered why uconn hadn’t even been in the mix, but it was now, and the blonde felt like she was reliving that evening in 2019 all over again.

wherever she ended up, it would be some news that would flip the script. impact their season, because sana was undoubtedly everywhere. the defensive mastermind, the one who didn’t care if she was 5’10 going up against post players towering over her. she locked them down, put up numbers, and somehow always found her way into the conversation, even when paige tried not to pay attention.

they were talked about like rivals, the head of every one of their matchups, but there had never been any real competition, at least not on the court. paige couldn’t remember a time they’d even properly interacted. but despite how much they were constantly compared, sana had made it painfully clear that paige might as well not exist in her world, and it was infuriating as hell.

“you think she’s really coming?” azzi asked, her voice soft and almost like she didn’t believe it herself as she cut through paige’s thoughts. no one did.

aaliyah, sprawled out on the floor, rolled her eyes. it’d been pushing 10 o’clock, and almost everyone had class in the morning. what had that been stopping, though? absolutely nothing. “if dorka doesn’t hurry up with the article, we’ll never know.”

“hey, be patient.” dorka threw her hand up, shooting her teammates some tight-lipped grin as she furiously scrolled through her phone. “they’re slow with these drops.”

“thats that uconn wifi,” aubrey mumbled, sending everyone into different variations of a laugh.

nika snorted. “nah, she’s right. it’s either that or we’ve got like, fifty million people trying to figure out where sana’s going.”

“bro, you know espn’s probably crashed by now,” aaliyah chipped in, leaning back on her elbows.

paige didn’t know why, but it bugged her that sana had never really acknowledged her—like, at all. not a comment, not a follow, not even a glance her way during games. paige wasn’t used to that. she wasn’t used to being ignored, and their minimal interactions only made the internet have more of a field day with that non-existent rivalry, and if sana weren’t to say anything, why would paige?

and now here they were, possibly about to be on the same team. paige had no clue how that was going to play out, but the thought of it made her stomach flip. it was like some cosmic joke.

“yo, i’m serious though,” aaliyah said, slowly rising from her spot on the floor. “how wild is this? if she really comes here, we’re stacked. that chip is ours this year.”

the blonde suddenly felt defensive. they didn’t need sana caruso to get that chip for them. “she’s not coming here,” paige blurted, half to herself, shaking her head. “no way.”

“why not?” azzi asked, narrowing her eyes. “i mean, all signs point here, right? unless i’m crazy.”

“yeah, but it’s sana,” paige replied as if it were the most obvious thing, running a hand through her hair. “she does what she wants, she’s the type to pick somewhere else just ‘cause everyone thinks she’s coming here.”

“you sound so stupid! and in denial,” nika snickered, throwing herself back into the couch. “just admit you want her on the team, paige.”

paige shot her a look, but couldn’t quite hide the smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. “i don’t care what she does.” she pointed at her chest, sinking further into her spot. “she could go anywhere.”

“sure,” dorka added, inserting herself into the conversation. her eyes didn’t leave her screen as she continued to refresh her browser, almost like she didn’t have to. “because that’s exactly why you’ve been all up in your head about her this whole time.”

“hey, wait. don’t do that.” but it was too late, her teammates had already been throwing out their ‘ooh’s,’ like this were some kindergarten class. but the truth was, she couldn’t deny it. there was something about sana that had her all twisted up, more than she cared to admit. maybe it was the way she carried herself, like she didn’t need anyone’s approval, or the fact that she always seemed to be a step ahead. and it didn’t help that she was ridiculously pretty. like, stupidly pretty. the kind of pretty that got under paige’s skin and made her feel something, even when she tried to act like it was no big deal.

maybe that was what really irked her all these years.

“nah, for real, though,” paige said, trying to keep her cool, “she’s different. she’ll probably pull some wild move and end up at notre dame or something.”

“notre dame?” azzi shot her a confused look. “you’re reaching now.”

“i’m just saying!” paige replied through a laugh, although it was mainly just a gesture to defend herself. shrugging and throwing her hands up in surrender. “she doesn’t follow the crowd. everyone thinks she’s coming here because it makes sense, but you know sana—”

“you don’t know sana,” aubrey cut in with a laugh. “that’s the problem.”

“you sound really passionate about this, paige,” nika laughed out, always the one getting the biggest kick out of things like this. she was always in the mood to tease her twin.

paige opened her mouth to argue, but she stopped short, because aubrey wasn’t exactly wrong. she didn’t know sana, at least not personally. she’d known this version she made up of her in her head, the one that frustrated her to no end, the one she couldn’t ever figure out. and while she did that, sana, with her perfectly highlighted curls that framed her perfect face that always held that stupid fucking smirk probably hadn’t even thought twice about paige bueckers once in her damn life.

“you’ve definitely thought about this way too much,” azzi said, chuckling herself. “like, more than any of us.”

paige threw her head back, groaning. “why is this about me all of a sudden?”

“‘cause you’re acting like she’s been living in your head rent-free for years,” nika teased again, her next laugh coming out in a sputter. this entire thing had clearly been amusing someone.

“yeah, okay, whatever,” paige mumbled, crossing her arms.

“hey, don’t worry,” dorka said, eyes glued to her phone as she moved her hand to rest on paige’s thigh comfortably, consolingly. “you’ll have plenty of time to figure out what’s going on in that head of hers.”

paige raised a brow, lifting her head and turning to the other blonde. “what do you mean?”

dorka’s grin widened as she looked up, everyone’s attention turning back to her. “because she’s coming here. she’s ours, guys!”

for a second, the room went dead silent, the words hanging in the air like they needed time to settle in.

then, chaos.

sana caruso is a uconn husky, meaning paige bueckers could finally figure out what made the girl tick.

july, 2022

the gym was full—more than usual. everyone was there for the first day of summer workouts, even the players sitting out due to injuries. there was the familiar sound of sneakers squeaking against the hardwood floor, and the faint trace of cleaning solution still lingering from the early morning scrubs. july in storrs was hot, too. the kind of heat that clung to your skin and didn’t let go, even inside the gym.

the team was standing around near the sidelines, waiting to start. geno had the new recruits huddled, running through some preseason talk, but all paige could think about was sana—standing a few feet away. they’d obviously been in the same room before, the same gym before, but today felt all too intimate. as it should, though. they were teammates now. hell, they’d be sharing the backcourt.

this would be the first time she’d see her up close—really up close—since everything went down. the transfer news, the headlines, the pics of sana decked out in uconn gear flooding her feed (a sight paige needed to mentally prepare for because damn, did she look good in white and navy blue). it had all felt surreal then, but now, it was about to be real real.

what’s she even thinking right now? paige wondered, feeling a slight pinch of annoyance. because as much as she wanted to believe this was just another day in the gym, it wasn’t. not for her.

when handshakes started, paige couldn’t even hear her own thoughts due to the loudness as everyone went through the routine of greeting the new faces. paige made her way through her teammates, exchanging quick daps and nods, her focus drifting back to sana more times than she’d like to admit.

the blonde was normally more noisy, doing everything in her power to get on with the people she’d be spending the season with. but right now, her interaction with sana would either confirm or deny every assumption she’s ever had, and that was quite frankly the only thing consuming her mind.

she could feel the intensity in her chest when it came time to shake sana’s hand. she stepped forward, hand extended, ready to make some kind of connection, but sana barely looked at her. it was quick, almost dismissive. no eye contact, no words exchanged. paige pulled her hand back, clenching her jaw as she watched her move into conversation with azzi, who seemed to earn a more genuine response than paige could get. a smile, and a giggle that could’ve been mistaken for music.

seriously?

the team broke off, moving toward the court. this’ll be a long practice.

they lined up, and as they went through the typical routine—light shooting drills, ball-handling, footwork—it became clear that sana wasn’t just good. she was a standout. and for someone who was only 5’10 in the basketball world, she carried herself like she could take on anyone, work with anyone, too, no matter the size or position.

“she got handles,” nika muttered under her breath. the comment was meant for the girls around her to catch and respond to, but paige just stood, eye squinted and arms crossed.

“handles? she got vision too,” ice brady, a freshman added, eyes wide as sana weaved through a defense drill, her speed and precision on full display. her ponytail swung perfectly on her head, lip tugged tightly between her teeth as she moved to make a layup. the ball went in, and ayanna moved to grab her rebound. the group cheered her on voluntarily, and paige only moved to turn her head as sana jogged past her to the back of the line, her demeanor as calm and collected as ever. and damn annoying.

the players gathered at the top of the key, forming a loose circle as they got ready to start a more structured scrimmage. paige found herself standing across from sana, their eyes meeting for the first time that morning, but the moment left as quick as it started. sana had her hands on her hips, listening intently to geno as if she didn’t already know what they’d be doing, because the blonde wasn’t supposed to have caught her looking.

“let’s run it!” geno’s voice snapped through the gym again, clapping his hands once, and the team split into two sides as directed, ready to play.

as the scrimmage began, paige tried to shake off the weird tension and focus, although it wasn’t really working. nothing had ever managed to get her off-game this bad. it was the escape, after all, so why did it feel like it would be causing her more problems now? she ran the court as a point guard, eyes scanning for plays, calling out switches, directing traffic. but every time the ball moved to sana, paige noticed the same thing—she’d find a way to dish it to someone else. anyone but her.

what the hell?

on a fast break, paige found herself wide open again, just outside the three-point line. she threw her hands up, calling for the pass. sana had the ball at the top of the key, and paige practically begged for some type of acknowledgment that she didn’t get. but instead of passing, sana faked it and lobbed it to aaliyah under the basket for an easy layup. paige didn’t even move. she just stood there, hands still raised, eyes burning into her ponytail.

“alright, switch it up!” geno called, and the team rotated.

the ball was in her hands now, and she dribbled down the court, eyes searching for a play, trying to shake off the irritation in her chest. the worst part was that no one seemed to notice, because sana had a way of singling the blonde out in a way that made her think she was fucking crazy. she passed to nika, and they rotated again, the pace of the scrimmage picking up.

it finally came to a head when they were working on a transition drill. paige had the ball, racing down the court, and sana was on the wing. paige pushed the tempo, looking for an outlet, but sana cut her off at the last second, forcing her to pull up and reset the play.

that was it. paige lost it.

“yo! if we’re gonna work the backcourt together, you’ve gotta work with me,” she snapped, her voice only turning a few rather concerned heads. she stopped dribbling, staring at sana, her breath coming out in heavy bursts.

sana finally turned to face her, full body and everything, their eyes locking for what felt like the first time all day.

she wasn’t angry, wasn’t startled by paige’s tone. she was calm like she always was, and the slight tilt of her head only pissed paige off more. she was looking right at her now, really looking, and all the playful cockiness that always held some undercurrent, yet always came so naturally to paige, was just gone.

damn.

she didn’t know why she was still standing there, seething, waiting for sana to say something after her outburst. and when she finally spoke, it wasn’t the apology or acknowledgment paige might have been expecting.

“you’re pressing,” sana said, her voice maddeningly casual. like there had been no heat from the beginning. “you’re rushing everything. it’s like you’re trying to do too much.”

paige blinked, caught off guard. rushing? she almost laughed. her jaw clenched, fingers tightening around the ball. she hated how calm sana was, how she managed to deliver criticism like she was just making an observation. “too much?” she shot back, stepping closer. “i’m just trying to get us moving, trying to get you involved. but it seems like you’re more interested in doing your own thing.” she hated that every time she tried to connect with sana on the court, it felt like she was hitting a wall.

but she also hated that she cared about it so much.

sana didn’t break, expression remaining composed, annoyingly unreadable with her short manicured nails digging into her hip. “you think running the floor means you’re the only one who gets to call the shots? that’s not how i play.”

paige blinked, trying to regain her footing, mentally and physically. “you’re not even trying to work with me!” her voice raised a bit as she addressed what had been bothering her before, causing a few heads to turn. the exchange didn’t look entirely friendly after all. “every time i’m open, you’re looking the other way.” she pointed to the court.

sana’s eyes narrowed slightly, some kind of look crossing her face—was it amusement? “it’s not personal, paige. it’s basketball.” it was the first time the blonde’s name left her mouth, first time she felt like an actual person to her, and it still didn’t feel good.

sana, on the other hand, was watching her closely, reading paige’s reaction like she was still deciding how much of this back-and-forth was worth it. she knew she was poking at her ego, but she also thought that ego could use a little deflating. everyone talked about her like she was the second coming of basketball itself, and while sana could respect her talent, the way everyone hung on her every move grated on her.

sana wasn’t jealous. not even a little bit. she wasn’t wired like that. but that didn’t mean she was going to be another cog in the well-oiled bueckers machine. she never liked to make things more complicated than they needed to be, and basketball? basketball was supposed to be simple. play smart, play efficient, make the right decisions. that’s why she was here. that’s why geno recruited her. she didn’t bring flash—she brought results. she played smooth, and if she wasn’t in charge, she sure as hell wasn’t going to let anyone treat her like a sidekick. especially not paige bueckers.

she was willing to work with her, of course. sana was well aware of what her transfer meant, how good it would be for the both of them if people stopped pitting them against each other. but it didn’t mean she would warm up straight away. they’d make an unstoppable duo—if they could just figure out how to coexist.

“look, i’m just saying, you’re pushing too hard. sometimes it’s about playing smart, not playing fast.”

paige’s stomach churned at the implication. she wasn’t just some showboat out there. it felt like a direct shot to everything she stood for.

“you think i’m not playing smart?”

sana raised an eyebrow, her lips curling just slightly. “i think you’re playing like you’ve got something to prove.”

and that stopped paige cold. she’d proven enough. but the way sana was looking at her, cool and detached, like she could see right through her, made her feel small despite her taller figure. it wasn’t anger that sana was giving her—it was indifference. like she didn’t even care enough to be mad.

“run it again!” geno yelled, and they did.

paige inhaled sharply, chewing on her lip as she clutched the ball to her side, watching as sana jogged off, obeying orders immediately. she could feel the eyes of her teammates on her, especially nika, who was biting back a grin from the sidelines, one hundred percent sure her best friend just got schooled. dorka raised an eyebrow at her, silently urging her to keep her cool.

they lined up for the play again, the ball bouncing back into paige’s hands. she hated it, but sana’s words echoed in her head. pressing… rushing… trying too hard. as much as she didn’t want to admit it, maybe she was pressing. maybe she was letting this whole situation get to her in ways she shouldn’t.

when the whistle blew, paige instinctively took control again, charging down the court. but she couldn’t stop herself from hesitating for just a second, looking toward sana on the wing. without overthinking it, she passed the ball to her, her hands moving almost against her will.

sana caught it, knees bent and ready before driving to the basket. she didn’t hesitate, didn’t flinch. she just played, like she always did. the ball went in, and the play was perfect, but paige didn’t feel satisfied. if anything, she felt worse. it felt like they were already at odds, and the season hadn’t even started yet.

it had worked. but it was because she’d done what sana said. and if it wasn’t personal before, it definitely was now.

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baelarys · 4 months ago

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Could you take a shot of aegon x Tyrell? Where she is married to some reach gentleman and ends up having an affair with aegon and resulting in a pregnancy. And when the baby is born and everyone sees that he is platinum, oc's husband freaks out and questions aegon who answers with sarcasm that he may have a dragonrider son and does not like his wife

✾𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐞✾

Aegon ii targaryen x Reader Tyrell

word count :990

Warning : Infidelity, pregnancy, bad words , anguts.

It had not stopped raining since morning, and your screams echoed in the room, accompanying the constant rhythm of the rain. You paced back and forth, trying to mitigate the intense pain that came in relentless waves. The midwives followed you, advising you to lie down, but you pushed them away.

You prayed to the gods fervently, begging for their mercy and to help the baby be born healthy. Your red hair stuck to your sweat-beaded forehead, while tears of desperation and effort ran down your cheeks. As you walked, resting a hand on your bulging belly, you felt a sudden release of fluids that soaked the floor of the room.

The pain was unbearable, but it was all worth it when the midwives finally placed the newborn on your chest. You noticed the thin layer of platinum hair that covered his head, an unmistakable feature, but at the time you didn't care. You kissed your son's head as happy tears fell down your cheeks. The baby was crying loudly, his little fists clenched

Your husband entered the room looking with amazement and horror at the newborn he was holding in your arms, before he could say anything you stopped him.

"Luthor, please" you begged with a trembling voice, your eyes filling with tears "This is our son. I beg you to accept it."

The knight stood still, his fists clenched and his face hardened with anger and betrayal. "Don't do it for me… do it for him" you said, holding the newborn into his arms.

Luthor hesitated, his gaze moving from the baby's serene face to your pleading eyes. The room was filled with tension, the air thick with the mix of emotions and the distant sound of the rain that continued to hit the windows. Finally, with a mixture of resignation and hopelessness, he reached out and took the child.

You spent the next few days in your chambers, surrounded only by your husband, a few midwives, and little Edmund. No one else had seen the newborn. His platinum hair and brown eyes, just like yours, looked around with endless curiosity.

You and Luthor didn't discuss the topic of the baby's paternity, and you both decided not to mention it to anyone. However, it was not surprising that rumors were already spreading in the corridors from the rats of the Red Keep. The gossip spread like a slow fire, and even if it wasn't openly discussed, you knew that many eyes were on your family.

It wasn't until a heated argument between Prince Aegon and your husband that Lord Tyrell burst into your room, his face burning with fury, declaring that they would return to Highgarden. You were surprised, since you had come to King's Landing on court business and you did not expect such a hasty return.

"Prepare your things, we leave at dawn" Luthor ordered, his voice trembling with suppressed anger. His eyes flashed with a mix of pain and determination that disturbed you deeply.

You tried to stay calm as you processed his words. "What happened? ,Why are we coming back so soon?" you asked softly, although you already knew the answer, Luthor strode over, his face grim and his fists still clenched.

"Aegon" he began in a harsh voice. "He had the audacity to say that you should be grateful to have fathered the son of a dragon rider" That insolence was the last straw.

The air became thick and heavy in the room. You instantly understood the impact of those words on your husband. The humiliation and betrayal had been too much for him, and Aegon, with his arrogance, had pushed Luthor over the edge.

"Luthor" you said, trying to reach for his hand to offer comfort, but he jerked away, his gaze fixed on the floor.

"There is nothing more to discuss" he replied in a sharp voice. "Highgarden is our home, far from the viperous tongues and inquisitive eyes of this rotten court."

You sighed, resigned. You knew that insisting would only make things worse. As you prepared to leave, your mind was filled with worries about the future. How would you face life in Highgarden with the stigma of infidelity and the birth of Edmund? However, the innocence of your son and his future were your main concern.

While leaving King's Landing meant escaping immediate scrutiny, it also meant facing suspicion and judgment in the Tyrell ancestral home.

You decided to take one last walk through the halls of the Red Keep before leaving. You wanted to record in your memory every corner, every detail of that place that had witnessed your most intense and complex moments. With every step, you felt the weight of the decisions made and the consequences you would face upon returning to Highgarden.

You turned into a hallway and suddenly, someone slammed you against the wall, holding you firmly by the waist. The impact left you momentarily breathless and before you could react, you felt lips smash against yours in a rough and messy manner.

Your first instinct was to resist, but the unmistakable platinum hair and the intensity of his gaze piercing you confirmed it was Aegon.

The force of his kiss spoke of desperation and desire, an attempt to hold on to something he knew he was about to lose.

"Aegon" you tried to say between their kisses, but he didn't let you finish, his mouth covering yours again, silencing any protests. His hands gripped your waist with palpable need, as if he could prevent your departure with his touch.

Finally, you managed to pull away slightly, panting with the effort. "I have to go" you whispered, your words barely audible as you tried to regain your composure.

"I can't let you go like this" Aegon rasped, his forehead resting against yours. —You know this isn't fair, that I need you here.

"I can't stay here anymore" you whispered, barely containing the emotion in your voice. You felt Aegon bury his face in your neck, leaving a trail of sloppy and desperate kisses over your skin.

"Don't say that" Aegon murmured against your neck, his voice vibrating with a mix of sadness and desire. His hands gripped your waist tightly, as if his touch could prevent the inevitable.

"I must go" you insisted softly, trying to remain firm in your decision. You felt his lips move slowly over your skin, his kisses leaving a burning trail that contrasted with the cold of the stone behind your back

Aegon pulled away slightly, his intense gaze searching yours. "Is this really what you want?" he asked with a voice heavy with pain. "Leave everything we've had here?"

You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "It's not a matter of wanting" you finally said. "It's what I should do for my family. I can't continue living in this chaos"

You pulled away from Aegon gently, leaving one last kiss on his lips. "See you, my prince" you whispered, saying goodbye with a mixture of resignation and a spark of amusement in your eyes.

You turned around and started walking down the hallway, feeling his gaze on your back. Each step towards the exit of the Red Keep felt lighter than the last. You had decided to face the future with a more optimistic attitude, knowing that this farewell was necessary.

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prythianpages · 7 months ago

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one shots

angst= ♥️ fluff = ☁︎ smut= ☪︎

↠ The Sun and the Moon ☁︎ | Rhysand wants to write you the perfect poem for Valentine's Day and calls Cassian and Azriel for help.

series

↠ Wanna Be Yours | When the Night Court and Dawn Court strike a deal, healers in exchange for Illyrian training, you rush at the opportunity to leave your home. You plan to keep a low profile but upon meeting the High Lord of night, your efforts are futile. He takes an instant liking to you and is set on being yours.

Fate, Up Against Your Will | Rhysand’s sister OC

#acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar imagine #acotar #rhysand x reader #rhysand x you #rhysand x y/n #rhysand fanfic

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dawneternal · 7 months ago

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The Benevolent | Eris x Healer OC | one

☁︎ summary: The Lady of Autumn hires a healer behind Beron's back. Sworn to secrecy, the healer helps Eris when he is punished by his father and forbidden to see a healer from their court. Eris did not expect to find himself growing attached. He comes to realize that he may know plenty about sacrifice, but he has a lot to learn about choosing to live for the ones you love.

☁︎ notes: let me know how you feel about the order of this chapter. I felt like it didn't read the same to have that last scene at the beginning, but if it's confusing I will change it:)

☁︎ warnings: descriptions of wounds and blood, talk of physical abuse, implied domestic violence

☁︎ word count: 2.8k

☁︎ AO3 Link // Masterlist

“Hurry,” Lady Edana hissed, a sound like pinching a candle flame. It echoed in the quiet, the only sound in the dark hallway.

The silence was so immense it seemed to roar. Every hall and passage was empty and utterly dark. Aya would have thought every court had secrets veiled by this hour between night and morning. But there was no sign of life in the Forest House.

And yet, Lady Edana led the way with a knife in her hand, poised to attack. It was not even a hunting knife or one of the jeweled daggers gifted to young boys of the court. Just a knife, likely stolen from the kitchens or even the dinner table. Aya had to wonder if it was the only weapon Lady Edana had access to.

To her credit, she held it like a fighter, blade pointed down and out so she could still strike if pinned. In her other hand she held her shoes, her stocking feet making no sound as she shuffled across the stone floor. Urgency radiated from her. If it were visible, it would have given her a corona. An aura of flames.

They came to another corner and the Lady tugged Aya against the wall before peering around the corner. She deemed it safe and pulled the healer after her. One last eerie hallway and then they stopped at a large wooden door. Lady Edana fished a chain of keys from its place tucked into her bodice and unlocked the door. It opened without a sound, like the hinges had been oiled or silenced with magic.

The lady snapped and the fae lights came to life in their sconces, revealing the heir of Autumn laying face down on a large bed, bleeding profusely into silk green sheets.

Aya had been warned of his condition but it still sent a jolt through her. He was so still, his red hair stark against pale skin and moss colored bedding. His mother tossed her knife onto the side table and knelt by the bed.

“Eris,” She whispered, her face nearly as pale as his, “Are you awake?”

“Mother,” He croaked. Something in Aya’s chest twisted at the utter brokenness of his voice. It hurt more than looking at the torn up flesh of his back.

“I brought a healer,” She said, beckoning to Aya.

“Mother,” He said again, reprimanding. Pleading.

“Worry not,” Aya whispered, unable to resist the urge to brush back a strand of copper hair. She understood the urgency now, as her gaze flickered to the blood pooling around his body.

“I will take care of everything.” She stepped back to let the healer take her place, disappearing into the washroom to fetch water. Eris’s eyes, surprisingly alert, locked onto Aya’s face. They roamed over her features, assessing.

His eyes softened at her touch, chin trembling like he was a thread away from shattering. So she took her hand away from his forehead, hovering it over his injuries instead. He flinched and she closed her eyes so he would not see the anger in them. The anger at whoever had done this. He needed tenderness and she would give it.

Aya reached into the spring of power within her and willed it to the surface. Willed it to pour from her fingertips into his being and soothe the pain. She urged the bleeding to slow to a stop, for his body to numb enough that she could clean his wounds before the true healing began. She felt his energy begin to pull away, lulled by sleep.

When she opened her eyes she saw that his own had closed, his breathing deep and even.

“You are as talented as the High Lord said,” Lady Edana whispered from beside her. She held a pitcher of water and an arm full of towels.

Aya stared at the mess, wondering where to begin. Even with all her doubts and wariness, she had not pictured an injury this severe when she accepted this position. She had known to expect the sneaking and the secrecy, but not to be led to Eris’s deathbed.

It did not help her uneasiness in the slightest when the lady said, as she mopped up her son’s blood, “Whatever we can’t get clean by morning, just throw into the fireplace. We’ll have to burn it all.”

It was a long moment before Aya said anything. Perhaps it was a risk to ask questions, but Eris’s blood coating her hands felt like justification enough.

“Why?” She murmured, keeping her eyes on the work before her. Lady Edana took her own time answering, lips pursed as she dabbed at the prince’s back.

“The High Lord forbade Eris from seeing a healer. It is part of his punishment.”

“So that is why the job was a secret,” Aya said quietly. They still avoided each other’s gaze.

“Yes.”

“What is the prince being punished for?” Another risky question, but Lady Edana seemed to think her questions were deserved, too. Or maybe she just wanted Aya to understand. From this perspective, dishonesty seemed to be built into the foundation of the Autumn Court.

“He visited the Winter Court without telling his father first. His father wanted to know why. And decided that Eris must be granted permission to leave the court borders.”

Aya clenched her jaw, looking back at the deep wounds on Eris’s back. No doubt from a whip or a belt. They would leave deep scars, and would have easily become infected without a healer. Though that seemed to be what Beron wanted. She decided not to ask what Eris was doing in the Winter Court.

“Beron will be called away first thing in the morning,” The Lady continued, “Not that he would have checked on Eris, anyways. But you will be long gone before he wakes, just in case.”

Aya wondered for a moment how Beron would know that Eris had obeyed his order not to see a healer. And she realized with a sick feeling in her stomach that he had likely left the enforcement of that order to Edana. The entire structure relied on their fear. They would do what he said because they had to, to protect themselves and each other. So what would happen to Lady Edana if Beron knew what she had done? What would happen to Aya?

She looked down at the ring on her forefinger, the blood on it glimmering like a ruby. She wondered how much Thesan had known any of this. It didn’t matter now, anyways, since she was bound to Edana by that golden ring. And looking at Eris, his brows furrowed and skin shining with sweat, she knew it was all for him.

How often was he destroyed this way? Torn apart in mind and body, forbidden from being put back together? Often enough for Aya to be paid a monthly salary. A very handsome one. But perhaps that part truly had been to make sure she wouldn’t change her mind.

As if she had a choice, now.

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

Upon returning to the Dawn Court, Aya headed straight for the throne room. She did not bother to change first, her clothes still covered in ash and blood. Her whole body was stiff from sleeping on the floor and heavy from how little rest she had managed to get.

The mammoth wooden doors opened before her, revealing Thesan and a few of his councilors lounging near the throne. Their easy laughter rose into the air, dancing with the cool breeze. The open archways of the throne room showed the pastel skies and fluffy clouds around them.

It was such a stark contrast to the last hours of her life, dimly lit and painted in the dark tones of the Autumn Court. It blew a puff of air into the fire burning in her chest.

Thesan’s brows rose as his gaze landed on her, jaw clenched and eyes blazing as she strode through the room.

“How much did you know about this job?” She demanded. The irreverence shook the High Lord more than her appearance. This was the way she spoke to her cousin, and not Thesan the High Lord. And never in front of others.

He asked the councilors for a moment, keeping his eyes on Aya as they scurried away. One dared to flash her a disdainful look and click his tongue. Aya ignored it.

“What was your question?” Thesan asked softly when they were alone.

“You told me this job would require discretion,” She said, her tone cooling a touch, “Did you know why?”

“Lady Edana requested a healer for personal matters,” He took a sip from his goblet, “I did not think it would be polite to inquire about the details.”

Aya shifted on her feet, her rage slowing to a halt. How delicate was this secret? Thesan could always be counted on for his discretion. But surely there were political implications that she didn’t know or understand. There always was, and figuring them out had never been one of her talents.

“Did you not ask the details before you accepted the job?” He pressed. His curiosity about the state of her clothes was rising into anxiety.

“I assumed the details. I thought maybe she was having age-related troubles. Or perhaps an affair.”

“And you were wrong,” Thesan prompted, “You are very troubled by whatever this secret is.”

“Yes,” Aya admitted, her shoulders drooping.

Thesan’s gaze flickered to the ring on her finger. If he was surprised to see it he did not let it show.

“You bound yourself to her?” His voice still smooth, collected.

“She said a physical contract would leave evidence.”

Thesan groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. He did not believe Edana to have particularly evil intentions, but she had played Aya like a piece in a game.

“Are you able to tell me this secret?” He sighed.

Aya considered the contract. It seemed that Thesan should be exempt from the secrecy. She would find out if she tried to say it out loud, anyways.

“Beron tortures his son for information,” Aya said, dropping her gaze to the marble floor. The heaviness of her body returned and she resisted the urge to let her wings rest on the ground.

“Lucien?” Thesan tilted his head to the side. He did not seem all that surprised.

“Eris,” She whispered, lifting her eyes to his. She knew he would see how haunted they were. Filled with imagery of her long night.

Thesan pursed his lips, his own eyes sparkling with anger. Many things clicked into place with this new information.

“And that is the secret?” He asked, “Beron mustn't know you heal Eris?”

“Yes,” She felt much smaller now, all of her fury laid out before Thesan, “He forbids him from seeing a healer. But he would have died if I wasn’t there.”

They did not speak of what this meant for Aya. The danger she would be in every time she stepped foot in the Autumn Court. It passed between them without words, the worry forming like storm clouds.

“I think I should speak to her,” Thesan rubbed his chin in thought.

“Please don-” Aya began, rushing forward to plead with him. He held up a hand to stop her.

“Worry not, little bird,” He soothed, “I will make sure you keep your job. I just want you to be safe. Now rest, I can see the weariness in your eyes.”

Her mind was far from settled, whirling with countless thoughts and worries. But Eris was well and her own safety was in Thesan’s hands now. That was enough. So she obeyed, gathering the energy to trudge back to her room and rest.

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

“Thesan tells me you are looking for work experience outside of the Dawn Court,” Lady Edana took a sip of her tea, amber eyes locked on the girl in front of her.

The Lady of Autumn had requested to meet with Thesan’s best healer in training. In private, in a quiet place. Thesan did not see a good reason to deny her. And he knew that she worked hard to separate herself from her husband in any manner she could. He’d heard the whispered rumors and seen the bruises hiding just beneath the fine lace of her gowns. If he could help to enable her independence, he would.

“Yes, my Lady,” Aya nodded, resisting the urge to ring her hands, “It is the last requirement I need to complete my training.”

She was proud that Thesan had chosen her as the best of her class, but now she was nervous. Edana had come alone, save for one guard who loomed off to the side of the balcony. His eyes were fixed on the glass doors behind them, but Aya had no doubt he had been listening to the entire conversation. Which, up until then, had been all pleasantries and small talk. But now the Lady’s eyes were narrowed, her focus sharp. It sent a shiver through Aya’s feathers.

“There is a certain situation in my home that requires a healer with greater skill than my court can offer,” The Lady began, “And the position requires discretion. I cannot ensure that a healer from my court will not betray me.”

She paused, watching Aya and waiting for a reaction. Aya knew her brows had drawn together, but she willed all other emotion away.

“There are many distinguished healers in a court, my Lady,” Aya said slowly, “Surely you would want someone who has finished their training?”

“No one with a title,” Lady Edana pursed her lips.

Aya only nodded, feeling ever more confused. The lady’s secret was that salacious? Perhaps it would be wildly foolish to get wrapped up in this situation. But offers for work outside of the court did not come along very often for trainees. And Aya would be lying if she said she was not itching to experience something outside of the soft colors of Dawn.

“I would pay you a monthly salary,” The Lady tilted her head to the side, looking as if she knew exactly where the girl’s thoughts had gone, “You will receive the same amount no matter how many calls you receive in a month. Sometimes, I may call on you often. Other times I may not need your help for a long while.”

“You need not pay me if you don’t use my services,” Aya frowned. Many healers in training took positions without pay.

“I was hoping the salary may make the strange requirements worth their while.”

She named the amount and watched Aya’s eyes widen.

“So you need a healer on call to help with private matters. And I must keep the job a secret?” Aya clarified.

That did not sound so suspicious when summed up concisely. Or perhaps the money had dulled the warning signs. She had never let Thesan spoil her just because they were related. She insisted on living in the healer’s dorms and earning her own living like the rest of her class.

“That is correct,” Edana nodded.

“And I would be under contract?” Aya asked. Another common facet of training positions.

“Three years. And it would be through an Autumn Court bargain, and not written,” She said, still watching with those bird-like eyes. She would fit well into Dawn with all of those avine features.

“Very well,” Aya said, “But I would like a written copy of what the bargain entails.”

Edana’s lips twitched up into a smile that Aya couldn’t quite decipher.

“I will write it up and send it your way,” The Lady stood from her chair, “It should be in your hands by this time tomorrow.”

Lady Edana held out her hand. Aya told herself later that she should have been clever enough to wait before shaking hands. She should read that bargain first and study the details. But she did not think of that.

When the magic snapped she let out a yelp and snatched her hand back. Her forefinger was adorned with a simple golden band. She tried to twist it but it did not move, as if it were now a part of her.

“What is this?” She asked, incredulous, turning her hand as she examined the ring.

“A symbol of our contract,” Edana said, straight-faced as ever, “It is a tradition similar to the tattoos in the Night Court.”

Aya stared at it, the pit in her stomach growing larger. How she would be scolded for her oversight. She was certain a version of herself from the future was watching this conversation and screaming at her for being so foolish.

As all of this raged in her mind, she missed the flash of guilt in Edana’s eyes, quickly overtaken by something else. Something too desperate to be sorry.

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the-fiction-witch · 5 months ago

Text

Stars In Her Hair

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Daemon Targaryen Couple - Daemon X Reader Reader - (OC) Lady Allianna Dayne Rating - Flirty Word Count - 1463

Finally, Daemon had returned to King's Landing from the war on the stepstones, he returned as king of the narrow Sea a title he quickly abandoned, but his brother King Viserys planned a week of celebrations for his return and the end of the war. Tourneys, hunts and other such pleasantries the first of which was tonight a large feast for the court. The hall filled with laughter and music, the tables lined with food and lords.

Daemon glanced around the hall attempting to find something interesting, part of him remembered how little he had missed such foolish politics, and he was tempted to finish his cup and head to his chamber for the night.

However, his eyes settled as they usually did on the body of the young lady, The Lady Allianna Dayne dressed as usual in deep purple and silver, with silver star jewellery and even a Star hairpin through her curls setting silver stars in her hair. The Dayne’s A fellow house of old Valyira with purple eyes much like many Targaryen’s. The last Daemon saw Allianna she was a young girl clutching her father's jacket as she followed him about court but that was many years ago.

Daemon’s eyes were drawn to her figure. He couldn’t help but admit to himself he found her attractive, she was beautiful. He slowly pushed himself up from the chair at the royal table, He started to make his way over to where she stood. He stood there a moment, staring at her before eventually speaking.

"You look rather bored standing here alone. Has not one person thought to request you dance this fine evening?"

She chuckled "No, they know better,"

"Is that so? Are you that intimidating?" He questioned, his tone playful. He moved to stand beside her, his gaze slowly travelling the length of her frame, admiring her appearance. Allianna was a beautiful woman with assets many in the seven kingdoms pay a fair price for on brothel girls, but she wore the impressive symbols of her house and its history

She glanced at him making sure to catch his eye so he knew she’d seen what he was up to, "It has been a good few years since you were here Prince Daemon. In that time a lady at court must learn to take care of herself,"

"Indeed it has been a long time. You've grown well since that child at court," His eyes continued admiring her looks, the curves of her body obvious beneath her dress, and then he raised his eyes to her hair. "I see you've adopted the family tradition and put a star in your hair. A fitting accessory for a lady of the house of the dawn star."

"I'm sure you felt compelled to adopt dragon scales on your sleeves and dragon buttons on your doublet at a similar age. Stars are my family, I wear them with pride. As a Lannister wears a lion, a stark a wolf fur, and you a dragon my prince."

"Quite right a Dayne girl would be nothing without her stars." He looked around the great hall. "I've seen many Westerosi houses here tonight, but I haven't spotted your father so far."

"he is not here.” She answered, “He is in Starfall, ruling as lord and comforting my mother, he .. he prays she will deliver him a son," her tone saddened,

He frowned as he spoke again. "I see, still no male heir then."

"No, only me."

"That’s quite a responsibility. I imagine your father is eager for a son to succeed him, an heir and not a daughter.”

"There is much he is eager for," she said dismissively before changing the subject, "but you have been busy... All these years, the war of the stepstones now won at last. King of the stepstones they've calling you," she chuckled at the title,

His lips curled into a smile, "King of the Stepstones, some do indeed call me that and yet I'm nothing more than a prince I assure you." He chuckled himself at the absurdity of it. "It's true that I've been busy but now I’m back here in the capital." He paused. "And I hope it doesn't take six years to see you at a feast again."

"I represent the whole of the south at court, you shall be seeing me, my prince,"

"You represent the South?" he asked, She was too young to be a delegate of her family he thought. "Your father's work I imagine? You're the only child and he doesn't wish to leave Dorne without a Dayne heir, not without a son." His words held some criticism of her father. He wondered if it truly a good idea to send her alone to the snake pit of a city like King's Landing? Anyone could take… advantage.

"You are correct," She nodded

"You must miss it. Your home? The warm sands of Dorne instead of the cobbled stones of the city." He moved a little closer, their distance closing. "Though a woman like you would be welcome in any room, be it a hall or a tent in the desert."

"I do miss it, starfall is unlike any castle in the seven kingdoms, I miss my tower, I miss the silver running like rivers through the walls, the moon-shaped cobbles and star glass windows. Somehow I feel every mile I am away from home. And weaker the further I am," There was a sadness behind her words as she spoke of home, "but... this is home, for now."

"The Dornish are proud people, the people of Starfall particularly so. It sounds like a lovely place." He felt a bit of sympathy for her, he felt the same about Dragon Stone which he had always called his home, "You'll return someday with a husband and a brood of children, and be happy there I’m sure."

she scoffed "Yes return home with a husband and children to be bossed about by the lord of Starfall, a brother whom even if is born today will be twenty years my junior." She explained "... When a son is born, Starfall won't be my home anymore, I'll simply be shipped off to whatever lord father picks out,"

His face showed a trace of sympathy for her as she spoke. "You'll be fine. The right Lord or Prince will come along for you, be assured of that." He looked at her for a moment before smirking. "Perhaps that’s why you keep every man at bay. Holding out for their Prince Charming."

"a prince?" She chuckled, "as far as I was aware... The realm has only the one prince" She maked eye contact,

He caught her gaze and held it, a slight smirk on his lips as she commented. He decided to play along with her game. "You’d be correct" he said, taking note of how she was standing, almost as if she were drawing herself towards him. "I’m the one and only" he added jokingly, before looking around to make sure no one was listening. "I’m curious..." he began, his tone lighter. "How did you pass your time in King’s Landing alone? I imagine you’ve been bombarded with men asking you to dance all night."

"I have been far too busy dealing with politics," she chuckled, "but if I have a moment I go to the library," she nodded, "Eman issare learning eglie valyiran” “I have been learning high valyiran" she said in a slight tender and careful high valyiran given she is still learning,

He was taken aback by her, It wasn’t something he expected. His eyebrows went up, his interest piqued. “You’ve issare learning Valyrio Eglie?” "You’ve been learning high Valyrian?”

She nodded with a gentle smile,

“Your accent is somewhat shaky but your pronunciation is decent enough.”

"hard to nail an accent when reading alone in the library"

He chuckled, "No good teacher then."

“Few known it at all let alone enough to teach.”

He looked upon her for a moment, his gaze tracing her body once again, before returning to her eyes. "I’m fluent in Valyrian. I could teach you."

"Could you? That would be very kind of you Prince Daemon,"

“Think nothing of it.” He took the opportunity to close the distance between them. He brought his body closer to hers and held her with a strong gaze. His voice came out in a low whisper. “Ziry would sagon ñuha pleasure naejot dohaeragon ao lēda aōha Valyrīha” “It would be my pleasure to help you with your Valyrian.”

She smiled biting her lip a little before she spoke, “Tomorrow, Eleven, in the library.” She nodded, “I’ll see you then Prince Daemon,”

“It’s a date” He nodded taking her hand in his and kissing her knuckles, “Ñuha dōna” “My Sweet”

She nodded hiding her blush as slipped her hand from his own and she walked away to leave the celebrations,

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ladyoflindon · 2 months ago

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Across the Seas (Ereinion Gil-galad, Rings of Power)

Author's note: My OC, Itarille, is the younger sister of Elrond and Elros. Gil-galad has just asked to court her recently. Takes place way before the events of Rings of Power. Can be read as a reader insert, and either as a standalone or part of my upcoming Tolkien fic series. From @sotwk "Comfort Fic Writing Challenge".

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It was a nice day, Itarille thought to herself. She was sitting on the windowsill in her chambers, overlooking the sea. Her ears picked up the faint sound of the ocean waves crashing against the shores. Her grey eyes, so like those of her older brothers, drifted back down to the book in her lap.

Adûnaic, the language was called. From the land of Númenor, Elros' kingdom. She was reading a book about the island kingdom's history with the sea.

“From the dawn of Númenor, our fate has been intertwined with the sea. It guides, it judges, it endures. The sea is always right.”

It was a longstanding belief of the people. Itarille glanced out of the window once more, her eyes fixed on the blue waves of the ocean. It seemed calm, serene, steadfast. Just like how Númenor should be. How the Eldar should be. How she should be, considering that she would soon marry the High King and become Queen of Lindon.

She flipped the page, deciding to move on from the poetic passage. On the next page, there was a portrait. A man, regal, with high cheekbones, gazed back at her with eyes so familiar. His raven hair was mixed with streaks of white, and age was so visibly shown on his face.

Elros Tar-Minyatur, the description below the portrait read. Founding King of Númenor. Itarille hadn't gazed upon a painting or portrait of her brother in so long. It had been too long since his passing, but for her, it felt like yesterday.

The day Itarille had received word of Elros' passing, it was as if the floor had collapsed from beneath her feet. When she'd heard it, Itarille was at dinner with the High King. The news was delivered to him by a messenger, then him to her. When the last word had left his lips, Itarille stood up abruptly and fled. She remembered the look in Gil-galad's blue eyes. Those blue eyes, blue like the sea.

She and Elrond grieved. He did his best not to show it, maintaining the stern facade of the High King's Herald, but Itarille was different. She had locked herself away in her chambers, sitting on this very windowsill, gazing out at the sea which Elros had sailed away on the day he decided to be counted amongst Men.

She had known that day would come, but it didn't hurt any less.

A knock on the door brought Itarille out of her reverie. Wiping the tears from her face hastily, Itarille spoke softly, "Come in."

The door opened gently, and in stepped Gil-galad. As usual, he was the picture of elegance and serenity, clothed in robes of a deep blue, a departure from his usual gold. His gold crown of leaves was nowhere to be seen, and his deep brown hair tumbled down his back in waves.

"My lady," Gil-galad spoke in that velvety voice of his, bringing Itarille's hand to his lips and pressing a kiss to her fingers, "how I've longed to see you so. This day has been dreadful without your presence at my side."

Itarille didn't respond, her mind still whirling with the memories from Elros, the memories that reading that book had stirred up. Gil-galad noticed her silence, the lingering tears in her grey eyes. He was about to ask if everything was alright, when he saw the Adûnaic book on her lap and he understood.

"You were thinking about him, weren't you?" Gil-galad asked quietly. Itarille gave no verbal answer, only the nod of her head. After a moment of silence, Itarille finally spoke. "O-oh, Ereinion," she sniffled, a fresh wave of tears falling down her face. "I miss Elros."

"My love." Gil-galad pulled her close, pressing a kiss to her forehead. For a moment, they both said nothing, Itarille's sobs speaking for her. She pressed her face into the crook of his neck, her tears staining the fabric of his robes.

"Why does it hurt so much?" She looked up at him, her eyes glimmering with tears.

"You loved Elros deeply. He was your brother, and like Elrond, your protector. Your closest confidante. It's natural to feel this way about him." Gil-galad exhaled. "It's alright to grieve, melda."

"But," he looked down at Itarille, wiping a tear from her cheek, "Elros wouldn't want you to cry for him. He loved you deeply and would wish for you to be happy. He'd want you to live a happy and long life. So, please, do not weep, my love. Live, for Elros, for Elrond. For me."

Outside, the flowers bloomed. The birds chirped. In the distance, the waves lapped against the shores. Somewhere up there, Itarille sensed that Elros was watching. The grief was still fresh, it would always be, but for now, in this moment, Itarille felt at peace. Gil-galad's arms tightened around her, the High King murmuring words of reassurance and love in Quenya, the language she adored.

Everything would be alright.

#lotr #rings of power #ereinion gil galad #gil galad #the rings of power #writers on tumblr #gil galad x reader #gil galad x oc #lindon #rings of power x oc #rings of power fanfiction #rings of power x reader

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