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bldhrry · 4 months ago

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A Court of Passion and Daydreams

Chapter Thirteen | Daylight Azriel x OC!Reader Previous Chapter Series Masterlist | General Masterlist

word count: 12.8k

warnings: blood, cursing, violence, smut (18+, minors DNI), death, infertility

author's note: ahhh the final chapter is here! i am so sorry it took this long; i truly just didn't feel like writing and did not want to force myself to write something out of necessity. i hope you guys have enjoyed this series n i'll still be writing; i have some ideas that i'll be working on soon

Celestia was drowning. She was being pulled down, further from the surface and Azriel’s outstretched hand. She kept fighting against the force that was dragging her downwards, towards the dark and seemingly endless pit, but to no avail. Water was filling her lungs and she couldn’t help but scream, inviting even more water inside. Nothing was working and she was fighting a losing battle.

She looked down and couldn’t see anything, but something was gripping her calves and she could see blood seeping from where she was being held. She tried kicking but the hold on her legs was too tight. She felt the water rumble around her as a deep, dark chuckle vibrated through the water and her senses.

You are the blood of my blood.

The voice was in her head and she screamed again. She couldn’t breathe and she was dying. Her vision was starting to blur and her entire body felt like it was on fire. Celestia started to scratch at her throat, holding it tightly and looked down. She saw glowing, gold eyes looking at her, a smile that was between genuine and evil flashing up at her.

It’s time to show them all who you really are.

Celestia’s screaming woke Azriel and he shot up in bed and turned to her, grabbing her in his arms, shaking her and yelling at her to wake up.

The nightmares had been almost constant since the night at Hybern’s castles and it was always the same with her drowning and someone speaking to her in riddles that left her shaking, a cold sweat glistening her skin.

Celestia’s eyes opened so wide Azriel could see the whites that highlighted her lilac irises and she jerked back, crawling away from him and hitting the headboard behind her.

“You’re okay. You’re home. You’re safe.” Azriel’s voice was low and soft and he inched towards her, placing her hands on her knees, then her thighs, and then cradled her face in his hands.

Her eyes had a far away look in them as she looked around their bedroom, trying to ground herself and remind herself of where she was.

She was in their new home, a townhouse by the Sidra. She could see the moonlight filtering through the curtains, casting its light on the vanity. She could make out the outline of their dresser and Azriel’s sword on the back of the bedroom door. She could smell him, fresh linen filling her senses and she closed her eyes, letting out a deep breath. She was home; she was with Azriel; she was safe.

“Come here.” His voice was still soft and she moved to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face in his neck. It was then that she started to cry, her sobs echoing in the room.

Azriel rubbed her back and gently rocked them back and forth until she pulled away, resting her forehead on his.

“It said, ‘you are the blood of my blood,’” she mumbled.

Azriel hummed and rubbed his thumb across her check. He didn’t bother to ask what it meant. The pair didn’t understand who was speaking to her, but It said the same thing every time. It reminded her that she and It were the same, cut from the same cloth, and she should be grateful. It also would insinuate that she had been given something that nobody had seen yet; Celestia looked and acted the same and she didn’t seem to have any difference in her powers.

“Don’t worry about it,” Azriel kissed her cheek and she looked at him with an unreadable expression. “Not tonight at least, okay?”

She sighed and nodded, turning to lay back down, tucking herself into a fetal position. Azriel positioned himself behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and giving her a squeeze.

A year had passed since the night at Hybern’s castle and the Inner Circle were at the House of Wind, meeting with Eris. The situation with his father, Koschei, and the Human Queens had escalated rapidly in the past few months and Beron had started to mobilize his army in the Autumn Court; they suspected he had an army brewing wherever the Human Queens were as well. Eris had yet to figure out exactly what his father was doing, but everyone was speculating that they were going to be moving soon and the biggest fear was that they were coming to either the Hewn City or Velaris or both.

“He’s not talking to me like he used to. He’s more secretive now; he only has meetings with his top generals and gives me vague updates from time to time.” Eris had his hands folded in front of him and his eyes downcasted down at the dining room table.

“Is there any way you can press him for information?” Feyre asked, bouncing a fussy Nyx on her knee.

Eris shook his head and pursed his lips. “I’ve tried but he gets agitated quickly. He knows someone is feeding you all the information.”

“Do you think he suspects it's you?” It was Azriel’s turn to speak and Celestia looked up at him and the shadows that coiled tightly against his body.

He had gotten better acquainted with Eris in the past year and despite the dig at Celestia at the previous Winter Solstice dance, which Eris received a black eye for, they had become friends and the atmosphere between them moved from tense to amicable.

Eris simply shrugged, leaning back in his chair. “Don’t know and I definitely don’t ask. He probably suspects everyone at this point.”

The group nodded their heads, confronting the real possibility that war was coming.

Rhysand had already instructed Cassian and Celestia to start readying the Illyrians for war, upping their training and the production of armor and weapons. They were gone for weeks at a time to oversee the operations and help speed the process along. Nobody at the camp minded; they did need all the help they could get and despite the ill feelings towards both the General and the Lieutenant General, they knew better than to resist. Celestia and Cassian could hold their own, but definitely pulled their punches when it came to resistance and acts of undermining from the camp lords, but Rhysand had little to no mercy and they feared them most of all.

“Do you really think they would attack us here? I don’t see the advantage given that we have the cauldron.” Celestia had asked the group.

Everyone looked at Eris, who was deep in thought. It would be a stupid, but bold move to make.

“Honestly? I think he would.” Eris finally said, rubbing his jaw.

The atmosphere in the room suddenly darkened and nobody spoke for the rest of dinner.

Cassian and Celestia were in Windhaven for two months helping with training and the production of armor and weapons when they received a message from Rhysand that the Autumn Court army was marching North.

“They’re coming,” was all Eris said when they landed on the balcony at the House of Wind.

Azriel and Eris had been on a scouting mission for almost 6 months, dancing between the Autumn borders and Velaris reporting back to Rhysand and Feyre about anything they saw or heard. And what they saw and heard was a lot.

The Spring Court’s army grew with subjects joining the cause and soon the court was swarming with people, busying themselves with building armor, weapons, and food. Through Azriel’s spies and his shadows, he was able to learn that the Spring Court would be joining the Autumn Court at some point and they would both march and winnow to the Night Court but where and when exactly they would strike was unknown.

It was unknown exactly why and when Tamlin had formed an alliance with Beron, but everyone suspected it was to keep his Court safe; Beron was ruthless and had always wanted more land and power and the proximity of the border with the human lands had intrigued him. It was disappointing to say the least that Tamlin had joined the enemy and even Lucien couldn’t explain his reasoning; he had abandoned the Spring Court and his relationship with Tamlin long ago, opting to reside in Velaris with Elain and act as emissary from time to time.

The Human Queens and Koschei were missing in action during these months, but the Inner Circle could only assume they were also preparing for war and scheming a plan to steal the cauldron.

The Autumn Court was even more prepared than the Spring Court. Beron always had a large and loyal army and Azriel had been following their movements for years as they spread across the entirety of the Autumn Court and their meetings with Koschei, Tamlin, and the Human Queens. Beron was more secretive about his movements than Tamlin, but Eris was able to steal documents that outlined the alliance, its wants and needs, and its plan.

The alliance didn’t care for Hybern and were going to kill him anyway to get the cauldron, but they had not anticipated that the Inner Court would steal it themselves, so instead of killing the King of Hybern they were now aiming to kill the Inner Court. Koschei would take over the Night Court, according to them, and Hybern. With Prythian in ruins, Tamlin would extend his borders into the human realm and Beron would have the cauldron, giving him ultimate power. As for the Human Queens, they wanted the cauldron too, to go in and become High Fae, an opportunity lost to them when one of the queens came out withered and old.

Beron planned to march through the other courts and what they would do was not stated explicitly, but Rhysand and Feyre were quick to schedule a meeting with the other High Lords discreetly to tell them all of the plan and that war was coming.

The Summer and Winter Courts would be hit first, given their close proximity to the Autumn Court. Kallias and Tarquin's faces paled at the news; Tarquin’s father had recently passed and he had ascended to the throne. This would be his first battle and threat to his Court, and he and his advisors were young and inexperienced.

“We have a large army that we have been preparing. We will give you support and refuge.” Feyre had told them. They had met in the Day Court and the setting sun set a somber mood in the meeting room.

The rest of the High Lords looked around at each other, their faces a mixture of disbelief, fear, shock, and realization that they would be fighting another civil war.

The meeting adjourned with a promise to keep in touch about anything they heard regarding Beron and Tamlin’s movements and their preparations with their armies and subjects.

The Inner Circle sat in a makeshift circle at the Manor, everyone looking down and not speaking once the debrief had been said. Its content laid heavy in the air and Celestia found it difficult to breathe. The feeling of doom sat heavy in her gut and she resorted to letting out small breaths through her mouth to keep her heart from bursting through her chest. Images of her friends and family dead from the sheer power that the enemy possessed flashed in her mind and a small coo from Nyx nearly sent her over the edge. On the lawn outside of the windows in the library she could see Azriel’s broken and dead body and she bit her cheek to keep from crying. She couldn’t go through this again. The Great War had been enough for a lifetime.

Azriel had been gripping her hand the entire time and she could feel and almost taste the panic that was sneaking its way through the bond. She could tell he was trying to contain himself and put up any wall he had to shield her from the way he was feeling, but one quick glimpse at her and it all crumbled. They had fought in the Great War and he had nearly died and lost her for years when she moved to the Summer Court. He had lost her again when he left her and when she died the previous year and he could feel his body start to shake at the thought that it could happen again. They were facing a bigger enemy than before and he knew they were not well equipped to win.

The Inner Court, now accompanied by Eris, fell into a routine. Azriel and Eris monitored the enemy, Celestia and Cassian and Rhysand traveled between Windhaven and the Court of Nightmares overseeing the armies, Feyre and Lucien continued communication with the other High Lords, and Nesta and Elain set up medical and refugee camps.

It was a busy month with both armies moving through the other Courts. The battles were long and extensive, leaving bodies from both sides in their wake. Beron and Tamlin had split their armies up with some moving directly through the Court’s borders and some winnowing past them. It was a smart move and one that was unexpected but once it was figured out, Celestia and Cassian dispatched Illyrians at the borders of all the Courts to meet the enemy. They both led their armies with Celestia in the sky and Cassian on the ground.

It was bloody and it was hard, but the Illyrians along with their Generals were able to defeat the army at every meeting, limiting the amount of casualties. The fatalities in the heart of the Courts’ cities were immense and resulted in a depressing atmosphere once the fighting was over. Civilians and soldiers lay in the wake of deadly combat and strong magic.

“We’re losing more soldiers than I anticipated,” Celestia murmured.

Another meeting of the High Lords as well as the Inner Court was underway at the Dawn Court. They had pushed back the Spring Court army and had captured the remaining ones. Azriel was absent along with Cassian, interrogating and probably torturing them for information.

“We’re winning through.” Thesan said, looking at the map that was laid out on the table. They had figurines representing the battles fought, defensive posts, and guesses of where the next fight would be.

Celestia’s nostrils flared and her wings twitched. She was aggravated that she was losing soldiers and it seemed like the onslaught was never ending. Beron and Tamlin had more soldiers than they had guessed and it seemed like more were showing up each time they faced them on the field.

“Barely,” she snapped. “They’re being too smart about this. They have more than what they’re showing us.” She pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed, tilting her head up. “We need more support and we simply just don’t have it. The last fight will be in Velaris and that’s when and where they’ll hit the hardest and by then we’ll have almost nothing left to give.”

She hated being this pessimistic, but it was the truth. Their armies were thin and resources were low and the other side had more, stronger magic and the only match would be Nesta, Rhysand, Feyre, and Celestia and even then they weren’t sure if that was enough. Celestia was an unknown variable given her “rebirth” from the cauldron but there was no time to explore it, not that she wanted to anyway.

“You’re right.” Tarquin broke the silence, looking at her with immense sadness. His Court and army had absolutely been decimated and the remaining had lost almost all their morale.

Everyone knew it was true not because they had seen it, but if Celestia, one of the most experienced in war thought it, then it had to be true.

“We can’t stop though.” Feyre whispered. She and Rhysand had the most to lose. Nyx was in Velaris with the Priestesses and she was terrified of losing this war and what a fight in Velaris would look like.

“Yes of course.” Celestia was quick to reassure not just her, but the entire room and herself. “We’ll keep pushing.”

Azriel walked into their room in the Day Court quietly, trying not to wake Celestia who was sprawled out on their shared bed. She was adorned with cuts and bruises and bandages wrapped around her torso.

Ariel was tired and his knuckles hurt but he had gotten valuable information from the captured soldiers and while he did not regret or even dislike his methods, being back with Celestia made him ashamed of it and he soaked in the bath, trying to wish his sins away.

One soldier spilled all the plans to them. He was a top General and had been present in almost all of the war strategy meetings. The bulk of the army was with the Human Queens, Tamlin, Beron, and Koschei and they would descend on Velaris in a week. He wasn’t sure of what exactly would happen, but it was enough to wipe Velaris and its inhabitants off the map. They wanted the cauldron, but Koschei’s magic hadn’t been able to find it yet, but they knew it was there.

This made Azriel exhale a sigh of relief. The wards they had put on the cauldron were working.

When Azriel got in bed Celestia rolled over, her eyes barely open. She gave him a lazy smile and made a grabbing motion towards him.

He crawled to her and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. She winced slightly but she didn’t pull away. She wouldn’t, not when every day was numbered and nobody knew what would happen the next day or the day after.

“How was it?” She asked. She didn’t need to say what, Azriel knew.

“We got what we needed,” was all he said. Shame coated his throat and sensing this, Celestia ran her fingers through his hair.

They laid like that for a while, too exhausted for words only having energy for physical affection and light kisses.

“If I wasn’t in so much pain I’d ask for sex,” she sighed after an hour. Her tone was light and joking. She was tired of the constant depressing mood.

Azriel’s body shook against her as he laughed. He pulled back and looked at her. Her face was straight, but a smile ghosted over her features. She had bags under her eyes and her eyes, usually bright, were dark.

“You never cease to surprise me with your vulgarity, Princess.” He smiled slightly at her and for the first time in a month, his smile reached his eyes.

She simply shrugged, tracing his collarbone with a finger. “I have needs.”

This made him laugh louder and he kissed her in response. She had no shame and was almost never embarrassed and he loved that about her. He was shy and quiet, always had been, but as they spent more time together he was cracking more jokes and engaging with others more, but never to her level. He probably never would and he was okay with it.

“When this is over we’ll be together,” he kissed the base of her neck, “for a while.”

She stretched her neck and snorted. “I think I need at least a year.”

It was true. They had been spending the past few months apart. It was agonizing and the only time they had time together was the few days they were in Velaris to report to Rhysand and even then they were too tired to actually be together, instead opting for quickies before departing.

She grabbed his face with both of her hands and gave him a big kiss and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him close. She buried her face in his neck to hide her tears.

She really hoped they made it out of this.

They sacrificed a few dozen males at the borders of the Day, Dawn, and Night Court composed of Illyrians, Darkbringers, and soldiers from the various other Courts. The rest of the army winnowed to Hewn City, leaving some soldiers there, and the rest of the army winnowed to Velaris, setting up camp throughout the city.

Rhysand had ordered all the civilians to move towards the country and take refuge there until it was over, so the city was deserted besides the army. The High Lords, Generals, and the Inner Court stayed in the House of Wind and strategized for when Beron and Tamlin arrived.

A quarter of the army would be stationed around the border of the city while another quarter would be watching the sea. This would give the illusion that their army was small; and while it was, they had enough to hold their own, plus the magic from Nesta, Rhysand, Feyre, and Celestia.

The rest of the army would be hiding throughout the city. The soldiers were placed in areas where they could sneak attack anyone who was able to get past the defensive lines.

Once the plan had been set and everyone dispersed to move their armies, the Inner Court stayed back, giving each other quick glances. Doubt hung in the air but they tried to hide it. This needed to work.

“I have an idea,” Rhysand said. He sat at the head of the table with his arms crossed. He looked at Celestia and she tilted her head at him.

“I think,” he cleared his throat and averted his gaze and started again. “I think our best chance at Koschei would be for you to be in your beast form.”

The room hushed and Celestia glared at Rhysand and then at everyone else. They all refused to look at her and she realized they had all discussed this and did so without her.

Azriel was the only one who looked remotely surprised and gave Celestia a look that she couldn’t quite decipher.

“I can’t.” She finally said after a few seconds of silence. “I hate it.”

It was true. It consumed her in a way that made it difficult to think and control. The beast form was intense and reserved for those with immense power that had to be expelled elsewhere. People became their beast, but the beast became her. Level headed Celestia became an animal and rational thought no longer existed. The internal desire to kill was overwhelming and everyone was an enemy. She hadn’t been able to fully control it yet and while she could transform easily, getting out of it was harder. The emotions needed to get to that point was excruciating and had thus far revolved around threats towards Azriel.

“I know, but,” Rhysand tried to choose his words carefully, but Celestia cut him off.

“Normal magic will be enough.” She snapped but she was lying through her teeth. It would not be enough against a death lord.

“Celestia.” It was Amren who spoke now. Her silver eyes were soft and a sympathetic look washed over her features. “Like Nesta, you are part of the cauldron. You have more power than any of us. You’ll be the one to do it.”

They all knew that Beron, Tamlin, and the Human Queens relied on Koschei for support and if he was out of the picture then the alliance would crumble and the army was nothing more than normal people save for the power that Beron, his sons, Tamlin, and the Human Queens had. But none of it matched the power of a lord.

“If she won’t, then she won’t.” Azriel’s voice was stern and his eyes were hard as he looked around the room. His shadows had moved to Celestia, creating a barrier between her and the rest of the group.

“I might not come back. Especially if the cauldron fueled that part of me. And I also can’t promise I won’t just,” she sucked at her teeth and took a deep breath, “won’t go after everybody.” Celestia’s knee bounced anxiously and she looked around. “You all saw what happened at Hybern’s castle and you know what happened during the Great War.”

She had destroyed a quarter of Hybern’s army without a second thought during the War and just recently she had destroyed Hybern and his Court. She was unpredictable, unstable, and most of all dangerous. Everyone knew it, but surprisingly nobody cared. It would be worth it, but she didn’t think so and matter of fact, she knew it wasn’t.

“Please.” Rhysand’s voice broke and his demeanor was pleading.

She looked at her brother and a wave of complicated emotions washed over her. He wasn’t just asking so they could win the war, he was asking to save his son and she knew that. But what if she couldn’t come back? She had only done it twice and it took so much out of her, but they were right. She could match Koschei and she could be the winning piece in this game.

Azriel saw a muscle flex in her jaw and she looked at him and he could see the gears turning in her head, calculating each possible scenario and their outcome.

Still looking at Azriel she nodded her head. “Fine.”

The day the army was set to arrive came and the mood was somber and barely anyone spoke, instead attending to their duties with intense concentration.

It was high noon when an Illyrian scout rushed to the House of Wind and announced the arrival of Beron’s troops from the mountain border. Seconds later another scout flew in announcing Tamlin and Koschei’s arrival on the sea border.

Nobody spoke as they departed from the House. Feyre, Rhysand, Celestia, Azriel, and Nesta would go to the sea along with Tarquin and Helion. Thesan, Kallias, Viviane, and Cassian would go to the mountain border.

“You guys go ahead. I just need a minute.” Celestia said as they all readied to depart. Azriel gave her a quizzical look but she just nodded, set in her decision. “I need a minute,” she repeated herself and nobody bothered to argue with her.

Azriel kissed her forehead, muttering a goodbye, promising to see her later and she just gave him a look of anguish. She hated this. She hated goodbyes. She hated fighting.

But a look of steel quickly replaced the fearful look in her eyes as she nodded, giving him a tight lipped smile. “I love you.”

He gave her a smirk. “I love you too Princess.” Then he left.

Balling her hands into fists, she turned and headed to the training ring.

She paced back and forth with her hands behind her back, eyes trained to the floor. She could do this and she would. Everyone was depending on her and she promised herself that no matter what Azriel would get out of this alive.

Images of him hurt, dying, his body bloody and bruised and broken flashed through her mind and the familiar hot rage filled her body, her veins were on fire and her skin screamed with the impending transformation. But she felt different this time. The rage was the same and while it was hot, it was also cold and the power was not only humming throughout her body but she could also feel the air around her vibrate. She closed her eyes and leaned into it, calling it from deep within her to the surface. The shadows, her power physically manifesting, was thick and it was usually black, but now it was indigo with flecks of silver floating around her. It spread from her body, encasing her in a bubble of raw power. Thunder shook the ring and the sky seemed to grow darker as her shadows grew thicker.

Blood of my blood, the voice she heard in her dreams swirled around her. But it comforted her now and she wasn’t afraid of it.

Show them what you really are.

Show them what I’ve created.

Usually she would feel her skin and bones stretching, causing her body to burn with pain but this time it felt good. It felt more natural this time and she barely remembered it but it wasn’t long that another crack of thunder rang throughout her body and she opened her eyes and immediately took to the skies.

In order to conserve their energy, the armies stationed at the sea had retreated back to a hill that overlooked the enemy. Everyone stood in a line, waiting for the command, but Rhysand wanted to wait until everyone was there and until Celestia arrived.

Everyone saw Koschei at the same time. He was small, but striking with white hair that reflected the beating sun and black eyes that made everyone’s heart skip a beat. But a strange thing happened that nobody expected. One second he was in Fae form and the second he was a white snake with wings and fangs and he slithered to the front of the army, a growl erupting from his wide mouth.

“Holy fucking shit,” Tarquin breathed out.

Nobody needed to say anything else. They all stared in shock and fear and dread.

Helion glanced around at their group and worry filled his eyes. “We match them in combat, but we can’t match that.”

Azriel shook his head. “We can.”

“With what army?” He snapped. He looked at Koschei again and then at Azriel. “That is a death lord and our combined power isn’t going to take him down. Look at him.” He almost growled this, but Azriel looked at him with an indifferent look, a sly smirk on his face.

He could feel the bond still and it was powerful and throbbed in his gut. Her power was stronger and more pronounced and he could feel the excitement and pride flow through from her end. She was excited.

“We have my sister,” Rhysand announced, turning to the group with his hands in his pocket.

“And we have my mate.” Azriel declared.

And on cue a sound of thunder clapped in the sky and a roar rang out and standing on the rim of the training ring, her talons gripping the stone and some of it crumbled under her weight, stood Celestia.

Her maroon color was deeper now, with silver accenting her wings and underside. She was triple her size and her body was wider with spikes decorating her body and spine and tail. It was a terrifying sight and everybody on the field stilled, not breathing.

“I heard rumors, but I didn’t know it was true.” Helion whispered. He was in awe of the beast before him and had he not had to display strength to the enemy and his people he would have fallen to his knees.

Celestia roared again, shaking her head, her hair flowing around her and the spikes on her face, catching the light. She truly was magnificent.

With a flap of her wings, she pushed off the stone and soared in the sky and her shadow covered the entire field and heads followed her movements until she landed behind Rhysand and Azriel, stalking towards them, the ground shaking. They stepped to the side and her entire body obviously couldn’t fit between them so she snaked her head in the gap and growled.

“Advance,” was all Rhysand said they did.

Celestia flew up and went straight for Koschei and so did he and their bodies clashed together with a boom that caused some on both sides to stagger and fall.

She was bigger than Koschei and had a bigger bite, but Koschei was faster and more agile but she didn’t let that stop her as she bared her teeth and bit his neck and used her talons to rake gashes down his body. Koschei roared in pain and wrapped himself around her and bit down on her shoulder and she growled. The ball of fire in her throat festered and before Koschei could register it, she sewed fire on his face and he jerked back, releasing her. Her talons were still embedded in his chest and she curled them, bringing his body close to her and then released, kicking him off of her.

With the shock of it all he fell to the ground and with a flap of her wings she soared up and then inverted, pulling her wings in close as she nosedived. Straightening herself, she spewed fire onto the ground, engulfing the enemy, but she didn’t stop. She kept going, veering to the left in search of Koschei. He was recovering and had already gotten up, his body jerking back and forth looking for her. She went up behind him and smacked him with her tail and turned around, landing in front of him.

He flapped his wings to steady himself and then slithered towards her with such speed and force that she fell backwards and Koschei was on top of her, screaming in her face. He was pissed. He had not anticipated that the other side had this monster and she was much stronger than him, but that only fueled his anger. This was the creature that took the cauldron and he could smell its power on her.

He bit on her neck and held it, thrashing his head back and forth and she screamed, a mix of animal and her natural voice. She kicked her feet and was able to create more gashes that made him jolt in pain and release her. She struggled to lift her wings but he had them pinned, but she was able to flex her talons and scratch him and he jumped back and threw fire into his face and flapped her wings as she got up, steadying herself. She took to the sky and away from him.

She needed to regroup. She couldn’t fight on land; he was better on land than she was and had the advantage. She needed to stay in the sky; she was made for it and while he had wings, he wasn’t as skilled as using them so she was able to outpace him despite her size. She soared above the sky and again, nosedived to the field, coating the field with fire. She did so behind the enemy, so they had no way to retreat, forcing them to fight and die.

Celestia saw her family, engaging in both hand to hand combat and wielding magic and she let them be. They were safe and that was all that mattered. She caught Azriel’s eye; he and the other Illyrians were fighting from the sky and her men parted for her as she flew, letting her help in the slaughter. She flew towards Azriel and made the horrible mistake of being captivated by him and the goal of getting near him that she didn’t see Koschei from below her and with a roar he launched her upward. He wrapped his body around her again and constricted and she groaned, too surprised to even react.

He impaled her back with the talons on his wings and his body tightened even more around her and she cried out. She couldn’t breathe or move as he had pinned her wings. She was able to move her neck and head and threw fire at him but it was a futile move; they were falling down too quickly, twisting in the air so it just moved around them instead of hitting him directly.

The ground was approaching quickly and out of the corner of her eye she saw movement. Azriel and a group of Illyrians were racing towards them, their siphons blazing, the power inside of them ready to be released and she wiggled frantically against Koschei.

This couldn’t happen. He couldn’t come here.

To deter them, she roared and blew fire in their direction and they all stopped and raised their arms to deflect it. Her body hummed with power as she grew more agitated. She had to protect him and before she knew it, she was glowing and a burst of energy expelled from her skin and Koschei flew off her. She flapped her wings once then twice and by the third time she was suspended in the air. They hurt from how tight they had been restrained and she caught her breath, looking down at Koschei. He had already gotten up and they made eye contact and she saw fear mixed with anger swirling in his black eyes.

She was much more powerful than him and that one move proved it. Power did not just exist in her, power was her and she was power. The cauldron had given her much more than just life.

Shaking her head and ignoring the burning in her lungs and her skin, she headed for the ground. She circled him and pewed fire around him, trapping him in a wall of white, hot fire. She landed in the circle, facing him.

Koschei greeted her with a roar and she stalked towards him, growling and baring her teeth. They circled each other for a minute and she examined his body. He was bleeding profusely, the gashes she had left him were in vital, important places and she grunted in satisfaction.

Her own wounds were extreme and the one that stretched from her chest to her gut was the worst and Koschei knew it and that would be his target.

He charged first, going for her chest and she screamed as she swiped at him with the talon on her wing and he snarled as it connected with his face. He didn’t realize that it had gotten caught in his cheek and she pulled him to her and sank her teeth into his neck and like he had before, she thrashed her head back and forth. She released him and spit his blood in his face. He flapped his wings to right himself and with a wiggle of his body, he charged for her and she dug her talons into the ground as he hit her and the fire wall behind her burned her back and she roared in pain. She pierced him with one of her horns low in his chest, but he had enough room to bite down and tear a spike out of her neck. Screaming, she stumbled backwards, landing on her back in the flames and he pounced on her, wrapping his tail and body around her, constricting her again. This time, her wings were free and she lifted her neck and flapped them, standing up straight so they were chest to chest.

She let him attack her and she groaned as he attacked the gash in her neck. She threw them backwards, she was on top of him and he tightened around her and black spots decorated her vision, but she kept going. She was going to finish this.

Koschei had a chunk missing from his chest that she had taken out from their first encounter and she bit down on it. He threw his head back in pain and she took the opportunity to blow fire into it and she kept the fire flowing while he withered beneath her, trying to get away. She didn’t stop and bit down even more; she was burning him from the inside out. It wasn’t long after that his grip loosened and his body went slack in her grip. She released him and saw his eyes had gone lifeless, rolling into the back of his head. His body was covered in smoke and it reeked of burnt flesh.

Celestia let out a roar so loud and deafening that the fight paused for a split second to look at her. It wasn’t one of pain or anguish, but one of victory and it was clear that she had won and the fight was over. The army was energized as they took in the scene: the dragon, missing a horn with cuts and gashes and covered in blood with the death lord at her feet, charred beyond recognition like so many of her enemies.

Across the field, Beron and his sons and Tamlin paled. They had been watching the fight from atop a hill like the cowards they were and she grabbed Koschei’s body with her feet and flew, silently and slowly over to them. Not only were they cowards, but they were idiots as they drew their swords and arrows and aimed them at her and the sight made her laugh, a sound that sent a chill up their spine.

She dropped the body at their feet and circled around them twice and then landed in front of them, making Beron stumble and one of his sons had to hold him upright. She didn’t move her body forward, but her head, as big as a ship’s hull, came so close to them that they could feel the heat that festered in her throat.

She had never been able to speak in her beast form before, but she could now and the sound was ominous and chilling and she could see Tamlin start to shake.

“Concede and kneel.” Her voice sounded like it was close but far at the same time as well as airy and light but grounded and deep. “Or,” she flared her nostrils and lifted her head, angling her head forward, opening her mouth just enough so they could see the fire, “burn and die.”

The group watched each other for just a minute before Beron threw down his sword and knelt, bowing his head. Her eyes shifted to Tamlin and Beron’s sons quickly followed and she growled, baring her teeth in a smile that made them all avert their eyes to the ground. Her body still faced them, keeping them from moving, but she turned her head and screeched up towards the sky.

Everyone stopped again and Beron and Tamlin’s army all took a gasp seeing their lords kneeling, an obvious sign of surrender.

They threw down their swords and knelt both in surrender and respect.

The only sound that was heard was a crazed laugh from Rhysand from across the field as he caught her eye, glowing gold.

Celestia had just ended, yet, another war.

Celestia didn’t wait for anyone to come to her. She was in so much pain and she was losing too much blood. She felt light headed and breathing was becoming difficult for her.

She let the other Hgh Lords deal with the aftermath of the battle as she took to the skies and headed to the training ring again.

She was so tired and she didn’t land properly, instead just falling to her knees and landing on her chest. She closed her eyes and took a painful deep breath, a whine escaping the back of her throat. Her power flowed around her in soft waves. It thrummed and covered her completely and she whined again. It was warm, wrapping around her like a blanket.

Her body was fighting the beast form, begging to be released. Her body contorted and she winced at the pain. She knew that once she was back in her High Fae form that the wounds would be more painful and possibly fatal, but the anguish she felt clouded her mind and she wasn’t able to concentrate on anything.

Her power hummed again and she let it take her as she felt herself grow smaller. Her bones shortened and her skin shook with the effort of stretching back to its natural state.

By the time the transformation was over, she was on her knees and she was nearly bent over herself and her wings, torn and bleeding, wrapped around her shoulders. She moaned in pain and could barely lift her head much less the rest of her body. She barely heard the thud beside her and the rush of footsteps as they made their way to her.

“Princess,” the voice breathed out and someone cupped her face. It was Azriel.

More footsteps and a gasp.

She moaned again, this time a small cry, and she choked on her own blood that was pooling in her mouth.

“It’s okay.” Azriel murmured and wrapped his arms around her, rocking her and forth.

She leaned into his touch, wincing slightly and let out a shaky breath. Her body felt so heavy and she sagged to the floor.

“Stay with me, Princess. We’re going to get a healer.” Azriel’s voice sounded so far away and she could barely hear him. He kept talking but soon she didn’t hear him at all as she slipped into unconsciousness.

Celestia slumped in Azriel’s arms and he gasped, a frantic “no” leaving his lips.

They had set up a healing camp inside the House and Feyre was quick to return with Madja, Elain, and Gwyn, all already covered in blood.

“Help her,” Azriel cried out. “Please.”

He picked up, cradling her close to his chest and felt her blood coat his hands and splattering on to the floor.

“We can’t treat her here; bring her inside. Quickly.” Madja commanded and they all rushed to the house.

She cleared the dining room table and Azriel set her down and Elain’s gasp was sharp and loud.

“My gods,” Gwyn whispered, moving towards Celestia slowly with bandages.

Nobody knew where to start and nobody was sure she would even heal from this. The damage to her beast forward was extensive, yes, but not fatal. Her scaly skin was thick but her Fae form was much more delicate and this could very much kill her.

“Clear her airways and stop the bleeding.” Madja’s voice cut through the damp room and everyone started moving.

Feyre ushered a shocked Azriel out of the room and sat with him, her bloody hand covering his. “She’ll be okay.” She smiled up at him but tears brimmed her eyes.

They worked on Celestia for almost two hours and when the three females emerged from the room, their eyes were mournful. Elain had been crying while she packed her wounds. The blood wouldn't stop despite the amount of bandages and ointments they gave her. The damage was just too much for her body to take.

But despite it all she kept breathing and she kept fighting. Gwyn was amazed at what she had endured and even more so at what she had done to get injured this badly.

“She lives for now.” Madja announced as she wiped her hands on a rag. “I don’t know what will happen next.”

Azriel let out a choked sob and pushed past everyone, but stopped in the doorway as he took in his mate.

He could barely see her. Her entire body was wrapped in bandages and despite being just placed some were already soaked with blood. Slowly, he went to the table and looked down at her. Despite being asleep, her face was warped in pain and he bit his lip, trying to stifle his sobs. Pulling up a chair, he sat next to her, his hand wrapped around hers.

“I’m so sorry Azriel.” He turned and looked at Gwyn. Her face was sympathetic and her eyes even more so. “I hope she makes it.” He gave her a nod and she turned away.

The rest of the Inner Court and High Lords would visit them periodically, paying their respects for her sacrifice. It was an incredible thing she had done and something that had never been done before and probably never would be.

Nobody could relieve Azriel from her side. He refused to leave and it was clear he would resort to physical aggression if pestered, so instead they would come and sit with him, praying she would wake up.

Celestia finally opened her eyes on the twelfth day. It was night time and she couldn’t see anything and she cried, thinking she was dead and in some torturous endless darkness. She tried to speak, but nothing came out; her throat and mouth were so dry.

There was movement on her side and someone cupped her cheeks.

“Celestia,” Azriel breathed out like it was a life saving spell.

She leaned into his touch and opened her eyes. It was difficult to focus her eyes and she cried again; she couldn’t see anything.

“I can’t see,” she rasped out and he just nodded.

“It’s okay.”

“It hurts.”

A sob and then, “I know.”

Azriel grabbed a cup and pressed it to her lips and she drank the water with a small moan.

“My gods,” she groaned out and lifted her head. She remembered the battle and Azriel’s embrace, but nothing else and the fact frustrated her. “What happened?”

“Let’s talk about it later, okay?”

She sucked at her teeth and shook her head. “Don’t aggravate me.”

He laughed but it sounded more like a sob. “I’ll be back.” He rushed out of the room and she scowled.

Lifting her head, her eyes began to adjust and she looked around the room. She was in Azriel’s old room and it was dark except for one faelight in the corner.

Footsteps were approaching; many footsteps in fact and the entire Inner Court piled into the room: Rhysand, Azriel, Feyre, Nesta, Amren, Cassian, Elain, and Lucien.

Rhysand rushed forward with Azriel and he took her hand, tears streaming down his face. “Thank the Mother.”

Her scowl remained as she looked around the room and Cassian let out a snort and then a big laugh. “Oh, I’m glad you’re still the same.”

She grunted and smacked her lips. “What happened?”

By the time they had told her everything the sun had begun to rise. After she had left, the remaining soldiers as well as Beron, his sons, and Tamlin had been taken prisoner. Eris ascended to the throne as High Lord of the Autumn Court and he imprisoned his father and brothers, protecting both his position as well as the Court. He would have arrested the top generals of the army, but they swore fealty to him.

Tamlin was shamed by his Court and subjects for his role in the war. He had simply been trying to protect his borders, but the argument was that he could’ve done that with the help of the other Courts, but his pride got the best of him. Lucien took over as High Lord and Elain, fittingly, became High Lady.

There were no civilian casualties in Velaris and armies were still placed out in all the Courts to help with repairs to damaged infrastructure.

The Human Queens couldn’t be killed for there would be another war on their hands, so they were banished from Prythian.

“I have three requests.” Celestia announced at the end of it.

Everyone looked at her expectantly and she glared at Rhysand. “I don’t care to help you all with any of this. I’ve done my part and I want to be left alone.”

Rhysand cracked a smile and mocked a bow. “Anything for the Princess of the Night Court.”

She scowled and turned her attention to Azriel. “I want to get married and I want to have children. Marriage soon and children later.”

Azriel laughed, tears coating his face. He grabbed her face and gave her a big kiss. “Of course.”

A month later, Azriel and Celestia were walking hand in hand along the Sidra. It was late and the city was asleep. Some nights she found it difficult to sleep from either dreams or phantom pains or sometimes both. Azriel was incredibly attentive and always woke up when she needed him the most and that night was particularly bad.

Koschei hadn’t come after her, instead he had Azriel in his grasp, tightening around his body and she couldn’t move to stop it. All she could do was scream in protest. Her screams woke Azriel up and he shook her away, cradling her gently as she sobbed in his arms.

She was calmer now as the cool, night air moved through her air and ruffled her clothes.

“It’s nice out,” she whispered, looking up at him.

He was already looking at her and she wrinkled her nose and smiled. “What are you looking at?”

“You,” he sighed, an adoring look in his eyes.

She laughed slightly and hummed, walking ahead, but he held her hand and stopped her and she turned around and gave him a questioning look.

“You know I love you right?” His tone was serious and his face was soft.

“Yes?” She laughed. “And I love you too.”

He nodded and his face turned sad and she parted her lips to say something, but she didn’t know what. Instead she walked back to him and wrapped her arms around his waist.

“You okay?” His heart was beating so hard she could feel it as she pressed herself against him.

“I never want to be parted from you,” his voice was slightly above a whisper and she raised her eyebrows.

“I’ve gathered that.” She brushed her thumb on his cheek and gave him a soft, but long kiss. “Why are you acting so weird? I’m not dying.”

“You almost did.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “But I’m not anymore.”

His eyes scanned her face like he hadn’t seen her in a long time. “Can I ask you something?”

She nodded her head and trailed her hands underneath his shirt; her hands were cold.

He leaned down so their noses were pressed together. “Will you have me for the rest of your life, Princess?”

She stiffened and looked up at him, her eyes wide. She moved her mouth, but nothing came out and she licked her lips and tried again. “Yes.” She paused, and then said, “will you?”

His chest shook with a laugh and he captured her lips in a searing kiss. “I thought you’d never ask.”

She scowled playfully and raised an eyebrow at him. “I could say the same thing.”

He gave her an apologetic look. “I was looking for the right ring.”

“Oh, I am so sure.” She kissed him and despite him wanting to drag it out and maybe even take her right there, he pulled back and retrieved a box from his pocket and opened it, showing her the ring.

It was simple with a lavender stone shaped like a star in the middle. The band was thin adorned with swirls.

He held his hand out and she gingerly placed her left hand on it and he slipped it on her ring fingers; it was a perfect fit.

“How did you know my size?”

“I measured it while you were asleep.”

This made her snort and she bit her lip, tears suddenly filling her eyes. She looked at the ring and then at him and she couldn’t speak, too overcome with emotion. Everything she wanted to say and everything she felt, she sent down the bond and she could feel his side glow bright and warm. His heart was beating wildly as was hers and for a while they just looked at each other, basking in the moment.

Azriel had loved her for as long as he could remember. He loved her smile and her eyes. He loved her hair and her cheekbones. He loved her sense of humor and vibrant personality. He loved her expressions and vulgar remarks and he was excited, giddy even, knowing that he would get to experience it all for the rest of his life. He had waited for the day she would love him back and for the day she would be his mate and he had waited for this moment, too, for the day she would let him be her husband.

They made their way back to their house, giggling in between stolen kisses. The moment the door was closed, she had him against it with his face in her hands kissing him hard. He chuckled and gripped her waist and they made their way to their bedroom. They swallowed each other’s every moan, groan, and promising whispers of their future.

She crawled backwards on the bed and he followed, their lips never parting. She was gripping the collar of his shirt, keeping his body flush with hers; she needed him so close and every time he pulled away to take off a piece of their clothing she felt like she couldn’t breathe.

She gripped his waist and pulled him even closer so their bodies were flush against each other; it was a silent form of begging and she wasn’t even ashamed of it anymore. She would beg for him and she would do it with pride; he satisfied her in ways that she didn’t know were possible both sexually and not. He was her equal in every way and neither had to speak their desires and requests, they just knew what was needed.

Her legs spread without her having to consciously do it and he placed himself between them, placing his hand under one knee, pushing it up slightly. She mimicked the movement with her other knee and without looking he slid inside of her with ease. He didn’t need to look anymore, he knew it like the back of his hand. He knew every part that made her gasp, cry, and whimper. He knew the places that made her twitch and buck her hips, begging for more.

He bottomed out and they shared heavy, shaky breaths before he started to move in and out, slowly, agonizingly slow. They kept this pace and rhythm and she began to move with him and the pleasure alone made her gasp and arch her back and Azriel grinned lazily against the skin of her neck. If he could, Azriel would do this for the rest of his life. He would abandon all responsibilities and stay buried inside of her, her walls warm and inviting, a home unlike no other, a body unlike no other.

“Oh,” she sighed and drew her knees up. With her left hand she tangled her fingers in his hair and with her right hand she rubbed small circles with her thumb on the middle of his wing and she felt the muscles flex and the wings flared slightly.

Azriel was never quiet during sex, but he also wasn’t the loudest, but this made him call out her name and hold her left hand above her head. He admired the glint of the stone on her engagement ring as it reflected the light from the bedside lamp and the sight of it, the confirmation that she was his, along with her stroking his wing and her walls tightening so hard around him, he fell over the edge with a curse. He kept moving, this time harder and sloppy, the sound of it filling the room along with their heavy breathing. He felt her breath hitch in her throat and he dropped his head in the crook of her neck, his lips brushing her ear as he encouraged her, talking her through it.

She was whimpering at this point, her orgasm threatening to make her combust with endless pleasure.

“Look at me,” Azriel’s voice was raspy and his breath hot as he nipped at her ear and then her neck.

She did, looking at his side profile as he kissed and bit down on her neck and she moaned, cursing. She lifted her eyes and looked at him and his eyes were always so warm and welcoming; the reassurement and love and dedication that shone through let open the flood gates and her orgasm took her unexpectedly and she bit her lip to stifle her cry, but it was no use as Azriel kept pounding inside of her, chasing his second orgasm. She gripped his shoulders, raking her fingernails down them as another wave of pleasure rolled through her and when she tensed with another orgasm, Azriel gripped her hip with his free hand and came again, filling her completely.

He collapsed on top of her and she was barely breathing, her entire body shaking. His entire body was weak too, but he braced himself up with his arms and kissed her, giving her whatever comfort he could while she rode out the aftershocks of her climax.

Her high dwindled slowly and she sighed as she opened her eyes, her vision focusing on the ceiling above her. She had a crazed, carefree smile ghosted over her features.

“It just keeps getting better,” she finally said at last and he planted a wet kiss on her collarbone.

“I know."

A Priestess married them six months later and she took after Nesta who had a human ceremony. The wedding was intimate, despite the amount of guests which consisted of High Lords, their partners, friends, and family. They never left each other’s side the entire night, opting to dance and sit and eat with each other. Some would say that they were ignoring and avoiding the party, but the rest knew better: they were hopelessly in love and had no shame in drowning out the outside world just to be with each other.

They spent their honeymoon in the cabin. They had plenty of sex, but they also just spent time together. He took work with him and during these quiet hours when he would read over reports while she read a book, her feet in his lap. It reminded him of when they were younger; they never spoke much but did spend a lot of time together doing practically nothing. Cassian and Rhysand never understood it; they didn’t understand the need for quiet time, but Celestia and Azriel did and her mother let them be, enjoying the sight of Azriel finally experiencing some sort of peace. Azriel didn’t care for reading or drawing like she did, but he did enjoy her company and presence, so whenever she asked, he joined her.

It was ten years before they decided to try and have a babe, but they struggled immensely to conceive. Feyre and Rhysand had done it so easily not once, but twice, and while Celestia was happy for them, she couldn’t help but feel envious.

“I don’t think it’s going to happen, Azriel.” She mumbled at dinner. She had once again gone to Madja to check for any sign of pregnancy because her cycle was late but returned home defeated when Madja told her she was not yet with child; Madja focused on the yet, but Celestia focused on the no.

“It will.” He reached over to grab her hand, but she flinched away from him, picking up her dinner plate and throwing it on the counter.

“I’m going to bed.” She told him through gritted teeth. She was so angry with herself and the gods and the Mother, but most of all with herself. It shouldn’t have been this hard, but it was and she felt like a failure, like less than a female for her sheer inability to get pregnant.

“Princess, please,” Azriel called out, following her to the bedroom. She tried to shut the door, but he blocked it with his hand and pushed it open.

She had her back to him as she undressed, throwing her clothes in the corner and grabbing her night shirt.

“It’s going to happen. You know it’s difficult for any of us to have children.” They were having this argument almost nightly and the more they argued, the more she retreated back into herself. Slowly, she was giving up on trying and they laid together less and less. She went to sleep with her back to him, not even allowing him to come near her. He didn’t care if they didn’t have sex, but he missed holding her and it was agonizing listening to her cry and not being able to do anything about it.

“But it’s not hard for them,” she said through gritted teeth. “Feyre, Elain, and Nesta,” she choked on a sob and threw her hands in the air. “All of them have kids and are expecting again. I cannot keep doing this.”

“It’s not just you hurting or disappointed. I want this too.” He was inching towards her, but she whirled around, her eyes narrowing on him and he stopped in his tracks.

She let out a cruel, low laugh. “You? You’re not the one failing to get pregnant.”

He gave her a sympathetic look and sighed. “Princess, it’s not your fault. I’m failing at this too.”

“But nobody thinks that! It’s my fault.” She was full on crying by this point and she held onto her hands, wringing them together.

“Nobody said that.”

“But they fucking think it,” she hissed. She was so angry with herself and at the world. Everybody was getting what she wanted, what she’s tried so hard for and she was so sick of it.

“Nobody thinks that either. I don’t think that.”

She waved at him dismissively. “Just fuck off, Az. I want to sleep.” She pulled back the covers and got in, throwing them over herself so he couldn’t see her anymore.

He sighed and clenched his hands into fists. He wanted to be angry with her. He wanted to be angry at her for not caring about his feelings and not letting him comfort her and for ignoring him these past few months. He wanted to be so angry that he would yell at her, blaming her for everything and just leave her. But he didn’t because it wasn’t her fault and it wasn’t his, either. She was hurting in the same way he was, but also in ways that he wouldn’t fully understand, but wanted to.

He knew she’d reject him, but he was going to try anyway. He cleaned up their dinner and came back to the bed, stripping down to his underwear and sliding under the covers. He moved towards her and grabbed her, pulling her towards him.

She wiggled against him and tried to push him away. “I said fuck off.”

“You cannot keep doing this Celestia. It’s not just you in this, it’s me too. And if you let me, I can carry some of that burden for you. Please,” he sighed and squeezed her, “let me in.”

She was shaking with sobs and the guilt washed over her in waves. She felt bad that she was putting him through this, but how else was she to channel her grief? The constant disappointment was excruciating.

She turned over, burying her face in his chest. It was warm and his scent filled her senses. She missed him so much and hated not feeling his arms around her and his lips on her skin. She hated rejecting him every night and how cold the bed was and how far away he felt.

“I’m sorry.” The apology came out broken and he rubbed her back.

“Nothing to be sorry for, Princess.”

It took five years for them to conceive and by then they had lost hope. It wasn’t a verbal agreement to stop trying, but it hung in the air. She stopped going to Madja every time she felt sick, instead just accepting that she wasn’t feeling well and moved on. She stopped timing her cycles and scheduling sex during what was supposed to be her fertile window. Azriel stopped hoping too and he was fine with it. They adopted a cat and a dog and they were godparents to Nesta and Cassian’s three children, two girls and a boy; this combination was enough to keep them busy and content, even if they always felt like a small piece of them was missing.

Azriel had been on an emissary mission for the last month to the human lands. The Human Queens expelled the few that had sided with Koschei during the war and they were still rebuilding the alliance and trust between the two worlds.

Celestia had been sick nearly every day with nausea that never subsided and a headache that throbbed no matter how much medication she took. In case it was something contagious, she had holed up in the house with the pets, both of them keeping her company.

It had been days of this and she was fed up and made her way to Madja’s apartment; she had to have something for the pain.

Running her hands up and down her body, Madja’s hands, wrinkled with age, hovered over her stomach. “Have you had your cycle?”

Celestia didn’t see the joy that had taken over the healer’s face. She shook her head. “Had it last month. I think it’s something the kids gave me; they’ve been sick.”

Madja just hummed and placed her hands on her stomach. “You are with child my sweet girl.”

Celestia’s body stiffened and she eyed the healer with skepticism. “What are you talking about?”

“You,” she moved her hands over her stomach again, pressing down slightly, “are with child.” Her eyes twinkled as she delivered the next shock. “And with twins it seems.”

Celestia almost passed out. She felt no excitement, just pure shock. “Do not play games with me, Madja.”

“No games. I can feel their heartbeats; strong and fast. Not to mention, you reek of pregnancy.”

Celestia huffed out a laugh and then let out another loud laugh. “Oh,” she laughed again, tears brimming her eyes. “Oh gods. Are you sure? Please be sure.”

Madja got up, gripping her hands. “It’s your turn, now, Celestia.”

Madja gave her medication and a heartfelt congratulation and sent her on her way. Celestia remained in the apartment, claiming she had a cold. But really, she didn’t want anyone to know before Azriel. She cleaned the apartment in anticipation, clearing out the second bedroom; this would be the nursery.

He came home three days later late in the night. She had tried to wait for him, but it was growing so late and before she knew it, she fell asleep on the couch.

When Azriel came in, he saw her on the couch, sprawled out fast asleep. The house smelled sweet and after setting his bag down he walked into the kitchen, looking for whatever she had made, but found nothing on the counter, in the fridge, or in the oven. But the smell was undeniable and he couldn’t find it.

“Hi,” Azriel jumped and Celestia was leaning against the doorway, her eyes bright.

“I didn’t mean to wake you. I’m sorry.” He walked towards her, ready to kiss her and hopefully make love. He’d missed her so much. But when he got within a foot of her he stopped and she saw his nostrils flare. She was what smelled sweet.

She looked up at him, her grin wide and he looked over her body, taking in more of her scent. It wasn’t perfume; she hated sweet, floral perfumes. She didn’t cook anything. He took another step towards her, closing the gap and took her face in his hands. She was still giving him that crazy grin and as her scent washed over him the realization struck him.

She was pregnant.

She could see the gears turning and the moment they shifted into place. Her smile only grew, confirming the news to him.

“Are you sure?” Azriel breathed out, stumbling backwards slightly.

“Madja told me. Three days ago.”

Happiness radiated from her every pore and Azriel was breathless from the shock. “Holy shit.”

“I know.”

Azriel didn’t say anything, he just kept taking in her scent and scanning her face. Gods, she was beautiful. “How do you feel?”

“My head hurts and I keep throwing up, but I’m good. It’s worth it.”

Azriel absentmindedly nodded.

“Are you happy?” Worry flashed through her eyes and she took a small step back, but Azriel held her elbow, rooting her in place.

“I am so,” his voice broke and he started to cry. “I am so fucking happy.” He kissed her hard and she moaned into the kiss.

“Wanna know what else she said?” Celestia asked once they had pulled apart.

“Hm?”

“It’s twins.” Her smile was so wide, her cheeks were hurting but she couldn’t stop smiling. Her prayers had finally been answered and she was given more than she could ever possibly imagine.

“Oh?” Azriel laughed. “Oh gods!” He grabbed her and lifted her into a hug. “Oh, Princess this is incredible.”

The pregnancy was easy in the beginning but towards the sixth month, she found it difficult to move and she was uncomfortable all the time. Both of the twins were large for their size and she blamed Azriel.

“Tall bastard,” she had muttered under her breath when Madja told her they were sizing at six months instead of four. He just snorted and kissed her forehead.

She gave birth two months early which was expected. The birth was hard and incredibly long and she spent the majority of it pacing around the house. She was an Illyrian, but that didn’t mean that it wouldn’t be hard. One twin had their wings splayed out, blocking the other who was in the perfect position. After a full day, the “Troublemaker Twin” as they started calling them shifted downward and Madja was able to push their wings in. The sudden drop broke Celestia’s water all the way and in just a few hours Celestia and Azriel had fraternal twins: a boy and a girl.

Everyone gushed over the babes. They looked exactly like Azriel and Celestia, a perfect combination of the two new parents.

“They’re beautiful,” Elain breathed out.

“I know right?” She beamed at her daughter and then looked at Azriel who was holding their son.

“Have you named them?” Feyre asked, peering at the babes.

“Artemis,” Azriel nodded to his daughter, “and Augustus,” he lifted his son. They had been born in August under Artemis’ constellation.

“You all can visit more tomorrow. Let’s give mom and dad space.” Madja ushered everyone out and a chorus of goodbyes filled the room. Celestia barely noticed, she was so enamored by her children.

She didn’t notice Rhysand making his way towards her until a gust of wind ruffled her hair and a wing was blocking her vision. “Az?”

He didn’t look back as he snarled at Rhysand, clutching son tight against his chest. There was an unspoken conversation between the two males that Celestia couldn’t see and Azriel’s wings were just too big to look around them.

Primal possessiveness took over his mind and he blocked Rhysand from coming any closer. He was too close to his wife, his mate, and his children.

“I just want to say goodbye,” Rhysand held his hands up. If Azriel wasn’t so consumed with the need to protect his family, he would’ve laughed at the High Lord asking him of all people for permission, but Rhysand did so without a second thought. He understood how Azriel felt and the last thing he wanted to do was be seen as a threat.

Azriel sized him up and let out a growl as he stepped to the side, allowing Rhysand access. Rhysand nodded in thanks and gave his sister a smile. “Congratulations, Celestia.” He bent down to give her a kiss and was met with the talon on Azriel’s wing.

Celestia huffed out a breathless laugh. “Azriel, please.”

He gave her a strong glare and she matched it and he conceded, once again allowing Rhysand to approach. He kissed her forehead and gazed at his niece. She had Celestia’s cheekbones and chin. “She looks like you.”

“I know,” she sighed. “I think she has Azriel’s eyes, but I can’t tell yet.”

Rhysand hummed and gave them both a soft smile. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” She had a dreamy look in her eyes and it made his heart swell with happiness.

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” With another kiss to her temple and a nod to Azriel, Rhysand joined a waiting Feyre in the living room and left.

In the next ten years, they had two more children; first a boy, named after Rhysand, and a girl named after Azriel’s mother.

The talon on her youngest daughter’s wing got stuck as she was being born and it tore her womb open, resulting in the babe getting stuck and Celestia losing blood almost half of her body’s blood. Madja was quick to unhook the babe and deliver her, but the bleeding was hard to stop and Celestia lay unconscious for a three days while her body recovered. It was a miracle she survived.

The tear was significant and Madja said she wouldn’t bear anymore children and if she did, it would be complicated, likely resulting in the loss of the babe, mother, and maybe even both.

Celestia and Azriel didn’t care. They were happy with the family they had created and were content with how things were.

The pair were incredibly happy and it was an almost sickening sight to see the six of them together, always smiling and laughing. For their 30th wedding anniversary, Feyre gifted them a portrait of them and their family and they proudly hung it above their fireplace.

One night, after the kids had gone to bed, Celestia was admiring the portrait, taking in her beautiful family.

“Are you okay?”

“Hm?” She turned and faced Azriel who had come up behind her, hugging her. “I’m fine.” Then she realized she was crying. She laughed slightly and wiped her face. “I was just looking at the portrait.”

“It sure is something, huh?”

She smiled and leaned against him, sighing. “I’d do it all again if it meant this is where we ended up.”

Azriel knew what she meant and he agreed. Even with all the mistakes he had made with his life and with her, he would do it again just to be in this moment with her and their children. “Me too.”

#acotar #azriel x reader #azriel x oc #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #a court of frost and starlight #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #azriel x female!reader #azriel fanfic #azriel fanfiction #azriel x fem reader #c writes!

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readychilledwine · 1 year ago

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Hiraeth

Summary - After your husband dies, Lucien fills a void you and your son never thought possible.

Warnings - death of a partner, single momming

"Jump, Arlo," Lucien's arms and hands were reached up, waiting for the young male to throw himself into them. "I have you, bud. I will catch you."

Your son watched him, one little hand steadying himself on the thick rough bark of the solid oak tree, the other in his mouth as he chewed on his fingers from nerves and stared down at the redheaded male.

He had managed to climb several feet into a tree while Tamlin had been checking in with you. He was constantly asking how you two were holding up since Andras' death, asking if he could provide anything, asking about Ro.

Lucien had been watching him, but Lucien, raised in the rough Autumn Court, had always allowed your son to explore beyond what you and Andras had been comfortable with.

He had been around more since your husband's death, playing with your son, talking to him, teaching him about the forest and different skills. He had taught him to fish, to cook on a camp fire, they even sword fought together with little wooden swords the Autumn male had made.

At first you had thought it was Lucien acting on something he felt obligated to do, but you had realized slowly it was out of love for Arlo. His little buddy, as Lucien affectionately called him. They had begun to dress in matching outfits, style their hair similarly. Arlo loved Lucien almost as much as he had loved his father.

"I'm too scared," his little voice pulled you back into the moment. The soft tremble of his lip as he looked at you wide-eyed. He was only 5 feet up. For a grown fae, it was an easy jump, or fall, for a child it had to be terrifying, though.

"Arlo, I promise you I will catch you," Lucien spoke softly to him. "I will not let you fall and get hurt. I am right here." Your hand shot to Tamlin's wrist, squeezing tightly as Arlo adjusted his stance with a nod. You refused to look as his little knees bent and he leaped, throwing yourself into Tamlin's chest and hiding in the High Lord's arms.

Soft giggles and laughter, from the tree had you glancing from between your fingers. Arlo was in Lucien's arms, held tight against his side as the old male praised him for his bravery. Tamlin looked down at you, brows raised, and you back away with a soft apology.

You two watched as Lucien held your son high above his head, letting the little boy hold his arms out as if he could fly. "I heard Feyre is home from the Night Court. How is she?" Tamlin typically avoided the topic of his love with you, but news spread fast in Spring of her long awaited return. You had known he was hurting, and were happy, if he was.

"She seems happy, like she's been freed from something." Tamlin answered plainly. "I should return to her. It looks like Lucien and Arlo are going to play for a while. He missed him constantly while we were gone. Kept asking how much longer we'd be staying, mentioning how he promised to take Arlo on a camping trip soon." Tamlin kissed the top of your head. Holding a hand up to Lucien in farewell before moving to go back to the manor.

You watched as he chased your young son through the clearing before finally catching him.

Their laughter became one, as they laid down in the soft plush grass. "Are you going to join us or just stare?' Lucien asked over his shoulder. "Your mom is weird, bud." Arlo laughed and nodded eagerly. Enjoying watching the male tease you.

The three of you laid there, watching the clouds drifting and pointing out different shapes in them. "Are you going to have dinner with us tonight?" You say next to Lucien, his head immediately coming to rest in your lap.

"Are you inviting me to dinner tonight, my lady?" His tone held insecurity in it. "I know you two are-"

"I can feed you, Lucien." You interrupted quietly. "Tamlin has been giving me more gold lately than I know what to do with, especially because he keeps paying for things on top of that out of guilt. It's been so long since you've joined us. Please." Arlo had fallen into a sleep against Lucien's side. His soft breaths comimg out in little snores. "He misses you so much."

Lucien looked up at you then, and it happened. A deep burning sensation setting into your soul as that string appeared. Lucien felt shock hitting him as his breath hitched. "You're my mate." Shock fell into his tone as your own eyes widened.

He sat up slowly, eyes studying you cautiously and laying Arlo gently on the ground. His hands were on your face almost instantly. "Still want to serve me that dinner, petal?" Your breath jumped into your throat. "Because even the Gods know how deeply I burn for you."

"Arlo," you whispered. "He's missed you so much. We-"

"We will talk to him about it tomorrow and just enjoy the night together. The three of us." Lucien kissed your nose, sealing the offer. "I've missed him, too. Going into the woods isn't as fun without my little buddy."

You smiled at him, eyes sparkling. "Guess I can't be mad when you take off with him for days at a time now, huh?"

Lucien leaned his forehead against yours, "I need to teach my son how the world works, petal." His tone was light and joking. You stared into his eyes, lips flicking slowly to his plush lips then back up. "Well, if you insist, darling."

Lucien pulled you to him, kissing you softly before pulling back. "Let's go feed our little guy." You nodded, hands laced into his shirt. "I promise you a thousand more kisses when he's in bed tonight."

He lifted Arlo carefully, carrying him into the stone house you and Andras had built together. "Give me sign this is okay," you whispered into the wind. "Please, Andras."

A butterfly landed on your arm, fluttering it's wings gently, before chasing after Lucien and landing on his shoulder. Then on Arlo's nose.

Chaos ensured hours later as Lucien and Arlo ran and screamed through the House. They were on a warpath to save the kingdom from invaders. A deep voice replayed in your mind, the last words spoken to you by your husband. If I die, go to Lucien, lean on him. He will love you as I have. Both of you.

A soft breeze rustled your hair pushing you towards Lucien, towards the house. Go, it seemed to whisper. Lucien stood in the door way, looking back at you and waiting, his face falling in concern. You went to him, kissing him again and closing the door behind the three of you.

And Gods he did. He smiled at you as he spun Arlo, the bond almost radiating between you two as if it was the sun itself. I love you, y/n. Andras' voice said again in your mind. Be happy, my love. If I don't come home to you. That is my only request.

Lucien and Arlo moved to the table, setting it before running upstairs to wash up for dinner. Hands found your hips and a kiss was snuck before your son came back down. "You seem happy," Lucien whispered.

You nodded, eyes welling slightly with tears as he started to grab food to take it to the table. "I am."

As the three of you settled at the table, a feeling of home came back to you. A feeling you didn't know you had been longing for since your husband's death. Lucien moved to hold your hand as if he sensed it, "Me too, y/n."

#acotar #acotar x reader #lucien x reader #lucien vanserra x reader #lucien vanserra #lucien acotar

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cosmos-coma · 2 years ago

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Hi!! Can I request an Eskel one shot where he fell in love with the reader (a Viper witcheress who is homeless since it disbanded) and he invites her back to Kaer Morhen for winter to introduce her to his brothers. She's also a great cook and the wolfs says she's a keeper. 😆

Vipers and Wolves

A/N: Ive never written a witcher!reader before, but it wasn't bad at all! I was hit with the comedic bug for this one, It's not super romantic all around but it is strong in found family!

Pairing: Eskel x Reader

Words: 1.9k

Warnings: Language, very quick editing

___________________________________

It was in the heat of summer when you first met.

You had been laying under a great big oak tree as the rain pattered down around you. The fire warmed your face as you set a heaping pile of damp fuel beside it, hoping it would dry in time to use it. Stray raindrops fell like tears from the leaves above you, making you shudder as one lucky one slid right down your back.

“Ugh… stupid rain,” you complained to yourself as you set out your bedroll and started getting comfortable in your camp.

The sun was beginning to set when you heard rustling far off in the distance, towards the middle of the forest. You were right outside of a small town so it was probably just a human, but people don't usually travel through the thick of the forest either. Your viper head medallion confirmed your suspicions as it lay motionless against your chest.

You stood cautiously and drew your steel sword as the sound of breaking twigs got closer and closer. A large dark silhouette moved within your vision as the sun was now halfway sunk on the horizon. As they got closer you could see it was actually a man on a large black horse, with… two swords on their back? Is it possible you really found another witcher?

You couldn’t believe your cat-like eyes. So many of you were lost after the sieges. So many of your brothers and sisters were killed defending your home from the onslaught of humans, and even then they couldn’t succeed. Your old home now was a wasteland of rocks and unlivable walls that held no more life. All the books and research your school did on the wild hunt… gone save for you and the few survivors.

“ A fellow witcher.” You held your hand up in a friendly wave as you watched him dismount and come closer to the light of your campfire.

Your breath escaped you as you saw the warmth of his Golden eyes lit by the fire, they were soft in a way that you didn’t often see from others, let alone witchers. Deep scars ravaged the right side of his cheek, tightly twisting his skin in jagged ways and notching his slightly chapped lips.

“Ah, not every day you run across another witcher out in the field.” He smiled a bit as he nodded toward your swords. “Eskel, Wolf school.” He introduced himself and held out his hand. He seemed oddly trustworthy of you, but you suppose some people just have better judges of character.

You dropped your sword back with your other belongings as you shook his hand in return. “Y/n, Viper school.” you smiled a bit as you spoke and motioned to your camp. “You’re, uh- I guess you’re welcome to make camp here too… means I have someone else to collect firewood for me.” you laughed a bit, gaining a small smile in return from the broad man.

He shook his head a bit as his brow furrowed, “isn’t there a town just a few minutes ride that way? Why don’t you get a room at the tavern there?” He asked, taking a seat across from you at the campfire as you sat down on your bedroll.

“Can’t waste the money.” you said with a frown, “The viper school isn’t livable anymore so I have to hole up in a tavern all winter. I mean, I’ve found a nice place that’ll let me work to stay but, somehow money still seems to run far too thin by the end of the season so I need everything I can get.”

Eskel watched as you stoked the fire carefully and added another log. He wasn't sure if it was the scar that ran across your nose that seemed to highlight your features, or perhaps it was the way you spoke that found him feeling exactly at home. Maybe it was your subtle scent of lavender? No, no, it was your eyes for sure. Your eyes glowed in the firelight and danced with a fierce- yet gentle- determination, a dichotomy that Eskel rarely saw outside of his own eyes.

“Well… Do you mind having a guest at your campsite tonight? I’ll collect all the firewood you could ever need.”

---------

“Are you sure this is gonna be alright? I’m not sure…” You said as the tall standing walls of the Keep just crept into view over the hills. “They're not gonna be nearly as nice as you are, you're an exception…” You sighed.

“Oh, no. You’re right- they’re complete assholes, but I promise they’d never be like that to you. Not right away, anyways.” Eskel stifled a small laugh when you turned to scowl deeply at him. “I just mean to say… that as you become more like family they’re gonna treat you more like family. And that of course includes ruthless teasing from time to time.” He smiled and shrugged.

Though you were fierce and skilled as a Witcher- and among the few women in your profession at that- you knew that you were intruding on another school, someone else's home with different customs and you felt like you needed to tread lightly lest you be asked to return to the oncoming winter season.

It took the rest of the day to finally reach the Keep’s arching gate and ride your horses through. You put them away in the stables, absolutely taking the opportunity to meet the famed Lil bleater along the way.

A comfortable warmth washed over you as the doors to the great hall opened and a large fire crackled in the fireplace, warming the 3 men already inside. Eskel had told you more than enough about his brothers and his father figure. Geralt, the one with white hair and a scar down the eye who looks grumpy all the time, but can be cracked with a joke at Lambert's or Eskel's Expense. Lambert, smaller than the others and the stereotypical younger brothers, his heart lies in mischief and bomb-making. And finally, Vesemir, Who always- but especially after the sieges- stepped up as a sort of father figure to them and was always a little wary, but more than willing to give anyone a fair chance.

“Eskel… Welcome back” Geralt greeted and held his mug up to his returning brother.

“And friend..? Well, Hello..” Lambert said with raised eyebrows which quickly turned into a mischievous grin. Your fingers brushed Eskel’s hand before you could even think about it, inviting and asking for his hand to hold, to which he was quick to respond and intertwine his fingers with yours. You could tell it didn’t go unnoticed, but none of them said anything about it.

“And a Viper at that…Been a long time since I’ve seen any of you. I reckon there's even less of you than there is of us…” Vesemir observed out loud as he nodded and raised his hand in greeting.

“You’d be right on that… Letho is the only other one of us I know to still be around.” You said with a hint of sadness in your voice, unlike that of what was expected of a witcher, even less than that of what a Viper should be. You were all made to be ruthless and cold, but for some reason, it just didn’t seem to stick with you for very long.

“Well, welcome to the last of the wolves, I suppose. “ Geralt said with a nod to you, “we were all just arguing about whose turn it is to make dinner.”

Eskel sighed and set his stuff on the table, “I’m not doing that after a full day of travel. I vote Lambert.” he proposed, getting met with Lambert’s loud and offended scoff.

“What the FUCK, Eskel?”

Geralt’s serious exterior cracked as a smile slipped onto his lips and he turned to Lambert with a smirk. “Well, Lambert. That’s two votes for you, one for me, and Vesemir couldn’t give a shit. Sooooo…” he said with a short laugh.

“You guys are absolute dogshit,” Lambert complained, throwing his hands in the air in an exaggerated gesture.

Now it was your turn to pipe up, “I don’t mind cooking…”, you said, looking between the small group of men.

“Y/n, you don’t have to do that. We’ve just spent days on horseback, you should rest..” Eskel tried to argue, but you quickly waved him off.

“Nonsense. Part of my job at the tavern over winter was to cook for guests. I actually find it rather relaxing.” you said with a smile and a firm squeeze to his hand before you handed your pack over, “Which way to the kitchen?”

“I’ll show you!” Lambert shot up faster than he probably ever had for a task, and quickly waved you on towards the Keep’s kitchen. Once out of earshot of his brothers and father he quietly thanked you for taking over the dreaded task and showed you everything you could need.

It wasn’t too long before you were cooking up a storm and coming out of the kitchen with a sizzling pan and a steaming pot. Vesemir was kind enough to grab plates for everyone as the boys all began to crowd around.

“Hmm, smells better than Geralt's cooking…” Lambert commented as he wafted the steam toward his face.

“Fuck that, it smells better than Vesemir’s cooking..” Eskel dared to say in front of the old man. But it was true, you put all you had into this dish. You figured that- like with many people- a wolf’s heart lies within its stomach. Of course having a full shelf of spices available to you helped a lot, some even that you hadn’t seen in circulation for many years.

Without another word, they all quickly served themselves up and began eating. It was so quiet that you could have heard a pin drop all the up the stairs into the tower if you tried hard enough. Your nerves started twisting at your stomach as you got your own plate and still no one had said a word. Was it good? Was it bad? No, Lambert probably would have said so.

“This…” Vesemir spoke, the first word since everyone had been served, “This is the first time they’ve been completely quiet at dinner in over 50 years…”, he said with a warm smile, more than you ever thought capable of the older man. “Your great food has given me the one thing I never thought I’d have again. Silent company..” He laughed a bit, now turning to Eskel.

“She’s a keeper, you know that, right? If you show up next winter without her you’re gonna sleep in the stables.” Vesemir finished as he turned back to his plate. Lambert and Geralt mumbled agreements through full mouths and content hums as Eskel turned the slightest shade of pink.

“Yes, I understand. I don’t need your threats to keep her around though,” Eskel said with a small smile as he reached for your hand above the table, in full view of everyone else.

A smile spread across your face that you tried to hide as you took a bite of food, “Oh yeah, Eskel’s never gonna be rid of me at this rate…”

_____________________

Taglist: @writingmysanity @open--till--midnight @madamemelancholysstuff @dark-academia-slut

Want to be included on the taglist? just DM me to let me know!

#listen theyre all kinda morons together and i like to think that they still act like dumb kids when they all come together in winter #eskel imagine #eskel fanfiction #eskel fic #witcher eskel #eskel x you #eskel x reader #eskel x y/n #Eskel x Witcher!reader #Eskel x fem!reader #witcher self insert #self insert #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher fic #eskel my beloved

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haphira · 1 year ago

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Miraculous Ladybug and the Valiant Annuler By: Haphira

Chapter 39. The Aftermath - Ladybug feels the fallout but she isn’t alone anymore

The group landed a few blocks away on an abandoned building, Ladybug was holding back a sob, as she turned to face the group.

“I don’t... I don’t think I need to, remind you... that we have to... have to keep his identity a s-secret.” Ladybug struggled to say, holding her arms together tightly.

“Ladybug...” Dìonadair said softly, “It’s okay, you can let go.” He opened his arms as an invitation for her. Ladybug sniffed then rushed at Dìonadair, hugging him tightly and started to sob.

Sionnach and Hachi quietly came up and started to rub Ladybug’s back in comfort.

“He was supposed to support me! He was supposed to stand by my side!” Ladybug bawled. Dìonadair held Ladybug a little tighter.

“How could he betray me on both sides of the mask?!”

Dìonadair, Sionnach and Hachi froze. “What do you mean, Ladybug? Do you know Adrien Agreste personally?” Hachi asked, a rough edge to her voice as if she too were holding back tears.

Ladybug nodded, “In my personal life he said he would support me but did nothing whenever a certain liar came after me. She tore up some of my friendships and always painted me as the bad guy. And Adrien just stood by! Said that ‘taking the high road’ was the best course of action, like it was a path of action in the first place! He just wanted me to be the punching bag, to just sit there and take it without saying anything! And I went along with it! Because I thought I was in love with him!”

The gears in Sionnach’s head were turning, this story felt very familiar, but a fuzziness kept creeping up, making things difficult to concentrate on. Dìonadair was frowning in concern, a strong sense of Déjà vu hit him, along with the weird fuzzy feeling, but Luka pushed through it, thinking about the similarities between Ladybug and Marinette.

Hachi looked a little hurt and confused, “Adrien did nothing?” Ladybug nodded again.

“Then he is not the person I thought he was,” Hachi commented. She had thought that Adrien was finally turning a corner for her, the last few times they hung out at sword fighting practice he had been a bit more focused on Kagami, and she was pleased. Now, after learning what he did and didn’t do, put things in a different perspective. Kagami was hurt.

“Oh, Ka-Hachi, I’m so sorry, you knew him too, I'm sorry.” Ladybug sniffed. She reached out and held Hachi’s hand.

“You have nothing to apologize for, Ladybug.” Hachi replied, giving Ladybug’s hand a light squeeze.

“B-but I should have done something to curb Chat! O-or told Adrien that his advice wasn’t going to w-work. Or-” Ladybug rambled. She felt guilty, she wasn’t the only one to have lost someone tonight.

“No, Ladybug, none of this is your fault. You did what you could, and you did the best that you could. No, this is the result of Chat's - of Adrien's - own actions.” Hachi said firmly.

Ladybug paused for a moment then nodded. “Sorry, I forget that not everything is my fault, it’s hard sometimes when he always said that it was.”

“Oh, Ladybug.” The group smooshed together a little tighter to give Ladybug a hug. Ladybug giggled and wiped her eyes.

“Thank you all. I couldn’t have gotten through this without all of you.” Ladybug took a little time to look at each of them in the eye to show her sincerity.

“We wouldn’t be here without you too.” Sionnach said softly. Ladybug smiled at her.

“Well, what happens now?” Hachi asked. Ladybug let go of everyone and stood up straight.

“Now, the Black Cat goes to Dìonadair.” She replied. Everyone looked at him as he stared back at Ladybug.

“If you are ready, Bug, if not, giving me the Cat Miraculous can wait.” Dìonadair said. Ladybug smiled and shook her head.

“No, it’s time. I need a new partner and Paris needs a new protector.” Dìonadair nodded.

“How are we going to do this?” He asked. Ladybug turned to Sionnach and Hachi.

“I think it’s time for you guys to go home and rest. It’s not quite time for a reveal yet.” Ladybug said softly with a hint of humor in her tone. Hachi and Sionnach smiled and waved their goodbyes as they headed off into the night.

Ladybug turned back to Dìonadair, “Okay, you need to de-transform the Turtle Miraculous then I can give you the Cat Miraculous.” Dìonadair nodded and closed his eyes as he said the de-transforming words. Light flashed and Luka stood tall as Wayzz floated then bowed to Luka.

“It was an honor working with you Master Luka.” Wayzz said, he glanced at Ladybug and smiled.

“I look forward to seeing the previous Turtle again, we have much to talk about.”

Ladybug nodded then reached into her yoyo and brought out the Cat Miraculous as Luka took off the bracelet of the Turtle. They exchanged Miraculous as Ladybug put the Turtle into her yoyo and Luka put on the ring.

A flash of light was seen then Plagg popped up. For a long moment no one spoke as Luka and Plagg looked each other over. Ladybug watched in apprehension, wondering how they were going to get along.

“Very different from the last Cat, but that can be a good thing.” Plagg finally broke the silence. Luka smiled at him.

“Well, even if the instruments were the same, they would still sound different.”

“True,” Plagg replied, “And maybe a new cheese is what is needed here.” Plagg and Luka were silent then nodded to each other.

“I expect good things from you Kitten and know that I won’t let things slide.” Plagg leaned in closer to Luka, eyes sharp as he looked at him.

“I would want nothing less.” Luka replied resolutely. He wouldn’t mess up like the previous cat. Sure, he might make mistakes, but he would never abandon Ladybug or Paris.

“Ready?” Plagg called.

“Ready,” Luka responded with a grin.

Plagg told him the transformation words and Luka repeated them without hesitation. Another flash of light then in the place of Luka was the new Cat Miraculous holder.

Chapter 40

#lukanette #miraculous ladybug #miraculous fandom #pro lukamari #pro lukanette #endgame lukanette #lukanette endgame #a03 fic #ao3 #miraculous fanworks #adrien salt #chat noir salt

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quartzhearted · 7 days ago

Note

✦ tarrion: an odd interval of blankness felt after something big happens to you but before you feel the resulting emotional reaction.

the funeral is held on a clear, sunny winter afternoon.

it takes place in the great chapel within the castle, filled so tightly that thousands of people pour out of the doors into the castle halls and down the great staircase. brodia natives, firenese, the occasional solmic. madam ève of firene, sat at the front and dressed in black, tulle pulled over her expression, clutching a bouquet of lentil flowers and lillies in her hands. his mother and father, aging, devoid of all their posture and their positivity, mother hunched over sobbing into her hands, father with a hand on her back and another covering his eyes.

and then there is morion, seated across from the open casket that holds his deceased brother. he doesn't move.

he remembers how he'd found him. elusia had come on strong, archers lining their ranks to counter all of the footsoldiers in their ranks. morion was a general and his brother the leader, and what a leader that man was! his word was gospel to the infantry---a call to action was all it took to send the sea towards the snow. morion himself ran like a beast, brushing off arrows like it was nothing and cleaving elusian nuisances with no problem. it was such a familiar motion, getting into these border skirmishes with his brother at the helm.

but when morion had turned around, ready to take his next order from his brother the king-to-be,

the man was on the ground, arrows rising from his back.

morion can't say he remembers much; all he knows is the warmth of his brother's blood on his shoulder and the horrible weight of him, fading, on his back.

even now, he doesn't feel anything. no rage, no despair---only quiet. the healers had him patched up, he thinks offhandedly, examining his brother's chest. probably wouldn't have made for a nice open casket if he still had holes in him.

he knows that emotion is frowned upon. his father is trying to rein in his emotions at his son's funeral, for godssake. so does that make him a good person or a bad one that he feels nothing?

morion stares at anything but his brother's pallid face. lillies line the casket and spill to the floor; the sun shines through the stained glass down to his brother like an invitation; the guy playing the ceremonial organ definitely knows what he's doing; they cleaned and buffed his brother's sword just for the occasion.

tonight, he will not sleep---overcome with massive, descending waves of grief, he will trash his room in furious tears. he will scream, he will cry, he will spit raging insults at the elusians that dared to take his brother away from him. he will injure himself on the flying shrapnel of tables and glassware and he will bleed; he will step out of brodia and into a world where nothing is just and everything is aflame with spite. he will become the worst version of himself.

but for now, the tides have recessed. morion sits and watches, waiting for the procession to be over, waiting for them to close the casket so he doesn't risk acknowledging the truth,

that his brother is really and truly gone

and he failed his duty as younger to protect him.

#⚔︎ ic #⚔︎ encantresse #⚔︎ unsungblade #⚔︎ answered #[ hashtag lol or something i dont know *puts head in hands* ]

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thebawdybaldurian · 10 months ago

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BG3FicFeb Day 11

SFW: After the attack on the Last Light Inn, the tadpolers heal their wounded.

NSFW: Tav and Astarion visit her cottage when they finally arrive in Baldur's Gate, sharing a bath and rekindling their sex life after Astarion's healing journey.

SFW: bandaging/healing each others’ wounds

“Is everyone alright?” Tav called while catching her breath. She made a face as she pulled her sword out of the winged horror she'd felled. Her adrenaline was so high, she didn’t notice the bleeding wounds on her forearm where the creature had slashed her.

“Tav!” Astarion went to her, holding his hand over the wounds, his concern for her outweighing the intoxicating scent of her blood.

“You’re bleeding too,” her fingers reached for the small cut across his perfect cheek. She began to tremble as she healed him, her body finally noticing her own pain.

“Don’t bother with me,” he winced as the stinging wound on his face began to close up from her spell. “Halsin! She needs healing.”

The Druid rushed over after helping a tiefling back to their feet. “Clataedre, Astarion,” he called, laying his hands on her immediately when he saw her wounds.

“Where are the others? Is anyone else injured?” Tav looked around as Halsin healed her. “Is…are we missing people?”

She saw a few of the tiefling children huddled under a table and went to them as soon as he was finished with his spell. “Where’s Mol?” Tav knew the eldest of the orphans was always with the others.

“They took her,” Doni cried, held tightly to Meli. “The winged beast.”

“They took a few others,” Halsin came over to soothe the crying children.

“Stay with them,” Tav touched his shoulder, knowing they were in better hands than with her. “I’m going to find Jaheira and Isobel.”

“Bold of them to attack an inn full of Harpers,” Astarion joined her.

“They took people, why?” Tav wondered, spotting Jaheira healing a wound on Isobel’s temple.

“They were here for me,” Isobel looked at Jaheira, keeping her secret for the moment.

“Why?” Tav joined them. “Because of the moon barrier?”

“Yes, I suppose so,” Isobel lied, knowing her father had likely sent for her.

“They took off with a few others, a child even,” Tav informed them, dabbing areas of blood off Jaheira looking for wounds.

“I’m fine, cub,” the Harper waved her off, knowing none of it was her blood. “The cultists have been getting bolder. We need to strike back at them soon.”

NSFW: Taking a bath together

Background: The adventurers have finally entered Baldur’s Gate and Tav decides to check in on her small cottage in the Lower City, inviting Astarion to come along. They’ve been working through Astarion’s traumatic past with small exercises and limited physical contact, but they’ve yet to be intimate again.

Content and Warnings: Female elf x male elf. Mutual stimulation, PIV sex.

“Well, this is it,” Tav stopped at a bright purple door attached to a modest cottage. Various notices had been stuck to the door. She pulled them all off, unconcerned since her key still worked. The door groaned slightly, but opened, revealing a sitting room that was also attached to the kitchen. There was a staleness in the air from being shut up for so long, and as Astarion came to discover, a half eaten loaf of moldy bread and cheese.

“You left this all out?” he made a face, covering the moldy food with a towel while she went to open the large kitchen window.

“I was planning to come back the night I got abducted. I often need a little snack after my performances,” she replied, wrapping the moldy food up and setting it in the rubbish bin outside.

“And the pile of laundry on the chaise?” He eyed the rest of the room with a smile, enjoying this private look at her life. “Not concerned about guests seeing that,” he teased her a little, leaning against the kitchen table.

“You’re the first man I’ve ever brought back here actually.”

“And what about the women you’ve been with?” He teased her again.

“Fine,” she rolled her eyes. “You’re the first person I’ve brought back here. I haven’t liked anyone enough to share my private sanctuary until now.” She grabbed his hands and pressed her body against his.

“Oh so you like me?” He smiled and kissed her.

“One might even go so far as to say I love you,” she grinned, biting his lower lip softly.

“It’s good that you can admit it,” he teased her one last time, before squeezing her tightly against him with a heavy sigh. “I love you. More than anything. Thank you for showing this to me.”

“You haven’t even seen the best parts yet.”

“Like the bedroom?” he gave her ass a loving squeeze.

“I was going to say the view from the study, but the bedroom is nice too.”

“Lead the way, love.”

They pulled away from one another, Tav leading him to the ladder that went to the loft. “I know you’ll just look up my dress,” she motioned for him to climb up first.

“Guilty!” He grinned and began to climb. She followed closely behind him, giving his ass an eyeful of her attention. As she reached the top, she found his attention focused on the windows. “Well, that’s something,” he was otherwise speechless. He walked towards the windows, letting the late afternoon sun wash over him. The view of the harbor and city below were almost completely unobstructed, only a few spires and towers to look beyond.

He only remembered the city at night, dark and sparsely populated. This city was alive, moving at so many different speeds. He’d never felt much sympathy for any of the dark denizens he’d met at night, but these busy little dots had no idea what was coming and it filled him with sorrow.

She came up behind him, wrapping her arms around him and resting her chin on his shoulder. “So what do you think?” she asked.

“It looks beautiful…and fragile,” he pressed his hand to the warm glass.

“The glass or the city?” She knew his silence meant he was deep in thought.

“Both, I suppose. The Elder Brain could destroy it all so easily. Or Cazador if he wished. As for the glass…”

“It’s quite strong I think,” she pressed her hand on top of his, nuzzling his neck. “I once had a dream it was strong enough to hold us both when we made love against it.”

“Really?” He cocked his head slightly.

“Mmmhmm,” she gently kissed his neck. “When we were in the goblin village." He could only guess it had been the morning she'd snuck off to pleasure herself after they'd had an argument the previous night. “How about we check out the rest of the house?” She suggested, not wanting to linger on discussions of sex. They’d made a lot of progress with his healing, but she was waiting for him to decide when he was ready to try anything sexual again.

She pulled him away from the windows and back down the ladder to tour the rest of the house. She took him down the hallway that led to the bath and bedroom. He peeked in the bathroom first, grinning widely at the large soaking tub. “Now that is a thing of beauty,” he walked in and eyed the tub.

“It’s one of my favorite spots in the house,” she smiled, leaning on the door frame. “The boiler is enchanted, so I can get hot water almost instantly.”

“I wouldn’t mind sharing a bath,” he blushed. “We did that in the goblin village too.”

“Yes, I remember you nearly tickled me to death,” she beamed widely at the memory.

That was the moment when they’d both realized they might be able to have something beyond their sexual attraction to one another. She’d doted attention on him, washing and massaging his scalp. He’d allowed himself to be open and silly with her. They both tried to forget the fight they’d had right after, when he’d tried to repay her kindness with oral sex, which she’d refused. It was one of the things they’d been working on, giving love unconditionally, without feeling obligated to repay it right away. “A bath does sound amazing,” Tav stepped into the bathroom and turned on the faucet.

They slowly undressed, peeking at the bodies they’d known intimately, but not for quite some time. They both felt a little shy, like they were getting a second chance at their first look at one another. They slipped their final undergarments down as the tub continued to fill. Tav bent over and circled her hand through the water, testing the temperature. She adjusted the heat a little and looked back up at him. “After you,” she motioned for him to get in first, fighting against the stirring of her loins as she looked at his naked frame. He climbed in, fighting his own desires as she stepped in front of him, settling down at the opposite end of the tub. This tub was more accommodating, so they didn’t have to squish in so closely, but their bodies still touched slightly under the warm water. “Do you want it hotter?” She asked, knowing he ran colder than her.

“A little,” he gulped, thinking things were plenty hot in other places.

She adjusted the tap again and then shut the faucet off completely once the tub was full enough. They both sunk down into the water to soak and relax, letting out deep sighs. “To think I’d almost gotten used to bathing via a bucket,” Astarion mused.

“I’ll be happy to never see that bucket again,” Tav smiled. “I might soak here everyday.”

“I might join you everyday,” he smiled back, grabbing one of her legs that floated next to him. He began to massage her foot, trying to make a decision. He felt ready to try some more intimate acts with her, but worried about ruining all the progress they’d made if he found himself disassociating again.

“That feels nice,” she sighed again, picking up one of his legs to do the same. “With all the walking we’ve been doing, I think I need new boots.”

“I was thinking we just need to convince Halsin to pull us both in a cart,” he joked.

“That’d be nice too,” she laughed.

She was still spending a lot of time with the druid, but they were no longer making love multiple times a day now that their initial hunger for one another had cooled down to a reasonable amount. Still, she found herself thinking back to the times she and Astarion had made love or more accurately, fucked. He had been rough and aggressive with her on occasion, which she liked, and which Halsin was less inclined to do. He was gentle and sweet, even when he was pressing all of his weight on top of her. She longed for a bit of that rough and dirty sex, wondering if his style of lovemaking would change after his healing journey.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Astarion, giving her foot a gentle squeeze and saying her name. His thoughts too had gone to their sex life. “Tav,” he swallowed the nervousness in his throat, having come to a decision as they soaked and massaged one another. “I…I think I’m ready to try some things…with you…together.”

“Okay,” she nodded, feeling her heartbeat rapidly increase. “What did you have in mind?”

“Some mutual touching…” he felt his spine tingling at the thought. “And depending on how things feel…”

“Okay,” she felt her face flushing all over. “Just keep checking in with yourself, like we’ve practiced.” She shifted a little, feeling an urgent tingle between her legs. “Did…you want to keep things here in the tub…or wait until we get out?”

“Our first time involved water…why don’t we keep things here for now? Stick with the theme.” He shifted as well, anticipating her touch.

She nodded, pulling herself out of her reclined position and tucking her legs under her so she could kneel between his legs. She leaned in to kiss him, gripping the edge of the tub to hold herself up and letting her other hand caress his chest, slowly moving downward. His hands wandered to her as well, letting his thumbs stroke her hips. Her fingers brushed against his cock, floating half hard in the water. She touched it lightly, unlocking her lips from his. “Is that alright?”

“Very much so,” he kissed her again, letting a hand wander towards her backside and then between her thighs.

“Mmmm,” she purred as his fingers tickled her gently, already feeling some of viscous arousal there. “I’ve missed you so much,” she whispered, letting her hand take ownership of his cock as his fingers slipped along her folds.

“I’ve missed you too,” he kissed her deeply, closing his eyes so he could enjoy both the feeling of her hand around him and the slick warmth of her folds.

They stayed like this for a while, kissing hungrily and stimulating each other, their bodies quivering in excitement. He finally looked at her, needing just a little bit more. She fingers trembled as she silently acknowledged his look, letting her hand move to a different position around his cock, preparing to slip him inside her. “We can stop at anytime, okay?” She said, moving the tip of his cock towards her engorged slit.

“Okay,” he nodded, biting his lip slightly as he felt her cunt swallow the head of his cock. She let out a hissing breath as she eased herself further down, sliding him in inch by inch.

“Oh Gods,” she sighed as her clit reached his hipbone, engulfing him completely. He was the perfect size for her cunt, Halsin’s thick, long cock a little too much at times. They were like a key and lock, fitting perfectly together.

“You feel so good,” he moaned as she began to move slowly up and down his shaft. “Gods, you feel so good.”

She found his lips again, sharing her hot breaths as she worked her hips against him. They stared into each other’s eyes, sharing the special intimacy that they’d both missed so much. The bathroom filled with the soft burble of the water stirred by their movements and the quiet moans of two lovers rekindling their fires slowly. “I want to come with you,” she spoke between heavy breaths, feeling the urgent pressure on her clit growing. “Tell me how you want me to get you there and when you’re close.”

“A little faster,” he gripped her ass tightly, eager to feel the pulsation of her climax around him as he erupted inside her. “And I like when you squeeze around the head of my cock when your hips move upward.”

“Very specific…I love it,” she smiled, doing exactly that when her hips reached the apex of their movement.

“Just like that, love,” his mouth fell open.

“Yeah?” She groaned, holding tight to her climax, waiting for him with all her effort. “What else?”

“Just don’t stop,” he begged, gripping her ass even tighter, ready to explode and she moved faster around his cock. “I’m so close, just, uhhhnnnn, yeah,” he felt her pulsing around him as his seed sprung loose, joining her joyous moans with his.

His unbridled noises made her climax even sweeter, no longer holding back any of himself to seem proper and refined. There was no need to perform the carefully crafted routine of the trained Lothario. It was just Astarion, letting out the sounds his body finally felt wholly for the first time. They held tightly to one another, letting their climaxes vibrate against each other’s body.

It was as powerful as the first time they’d been together, but this wasn’t followed by the immediate fear that had gripped them and pulled them apart. They melted together, catching their breath, their hearts filled by love. “My love,” she giggled happily, kissing him greedily. “The noises you made. Gods.”

“I don’t know where they came from,” he blushed happily. “I…it was so wonderful. I could feel everything. You felt so fucking good.”

“You did too,” she grinned. “In fact, you, huhhhh,” she squeezed her thighs together, pressing a second small climax out of her engorged clit. “Mmmph, you made me come twice. Pretty good for a first time.”

“Thank you for being patient with me,” he looked in her eyes, so grateful to have her in his life. “I love you.”

“You were worth the wait, my love. My everything.”

They kissed and caressed each other until the water had gone cold and their skin was pruny. “How about we stay here tonight and join the others at camp in the morning?” She suggested as they climbed out and toweled off. “You’ll never have a better trance than in my bed. I paid a pretty copper for it.”

“I don’t know how much sleep we’ll be getting,” he pulled her close. “We may have opened the floodgates.”

#astarion #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #tavstarion #astarion smut #bg3ficfeb

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yellowcry · 8 months ago

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Tell me something I'll forget (and you might have to tell me again)

Mirabel's ceremony! Such a big day!

Isabela looked up, staring as her sister slowly reached her doorknob

Pedro and Alma swap au

Okay.... It definitely went wrong. Isabela backed away in shock, leaning on her Tía. Mirabel's door vanished right in front of their eyes. Leaving a shining unsertanity in the air. Can the door even disappear? How? In Isabela's long eleven years long life she hadn't seen anything quite like that. The Madrigals stared in confusion, the world was frozen. Mirabel stared at Abuelo with such sad eyes. Several petals fell off the flower crown that Isabela had made for her. Mama and Papa held each other tightly, with wide open mouths. The wind blew in the patio, a right sign of how worried Tía Pepa was.

"Shh..." Felíx patted her spine, trying to make her calm down. "Mi vida, it's okay." Of course, he was the one to stay optimistic despite the situation. Always looking on the bright side.

"Dolly, do you know what's going on?" Isabela leaned closer to her twin-cousin. She was smart, maybe she had already figured out what happened (on simply heard it)

Dolores slowly tilted her head. "No idea. I didn't hear anyone talking about that ever before." Yeah, everyone before got their gifts? Why wouldn't Mirabel have one too? Isabela's grip on her cousin's palm tightened.

Camilo's eyes looked between his parents, sister, and cousins, trying to understand what was going on. He shapeshifted from nerves, gripping Tía's hand.

Pedro shook his head, turning to the guests, mainly Agústin's relatives and family friends. "Today's celebration's dismissed. Please, everyone, go home." The Madrigal Candle in his hands flickered, fading for just a bare second. Flashes of yellow light fell on the floor

With it, the small amount of people who were invited went out of the dark patio, grumbling.

Things spun around really fast. Isabela found herself bored in her room. Don't get her wrong, she was worried. And upset too. But sitting in her room wouldn't do anything.

She suspected that her parents were with Mirabel. Of course, Isabela couldn't imagine how she felt. So young, helpless. Even more than Isabela herself. Tía Pepa and Tío Felix probably were comforting their kids. And heavens knew what was Luisa doing. This left her alone in this predicament. When everyone was busy and she didn't have anyone to ask all the hard questions in her mind.

Isabela walked out on her toes. She knew she had to be quiet if she didn't want to get caught by Abuelo. She hated it, she wasn't Dolores who could move like a ghost. But Isabela would prefer to suffer for a bit than to be found.

Casita creaked its tile, asking Isabela to stay away. The young girl just shook her head, patting one of the pillars. "C'mon, I want to help," She demanded, pushing herself to a weak light, coming from one of the rooms.

Abuelo paced around the kitchen nervously, as Luisa (of course, it's always her) followed him like a duckling. In a candlelight, Isabela could see how pale her sister was. Not like she could blame her. Tío Bruno knocked on the table in this heavy predicament. It was quiet. Isabela peaked through the doorway, but the trio was a bit distracted. It was dark, candles glimmered, dripping with wax. The table was filled with food that wasn't going to be used in the way they planned.

Finally, Abuelo turned to Tío Bruno. "Okay, here's what we'll do. You go take a vision." His fists clenched from bursting nerves. "If there's anything wrong, if it means any danger we must know."

Danger? For what? Pfff... Isabela bet she could help with it herself! And she doesn't even need that stupid shimmering fashionable sword. (tho she had to admit, it looks extremely cool) She can help with plants!

Bruno winced. "Papa, are you sure? I mean..."

"Bruno." Pedro had cut him off. "It's for the family. You have to ensure Mirabel's safe."

It was something they heard every day. They needed to be in safety. No matter how boring it was. It was strange, Dolores had said that other girls didn't live like them. They were going to school, and playing outdoors. Isabela really couldn't understand why they were locked in.

The younger man nodded, nervous. Isabela could see him shrink under Abuelo's gaze. Again, it wasn't something unexpected. Abuelo didn't like it when anyone disobeyed him.

Lost in her thoughts, Isabela didn't notice how Tío Bruno almost bumped into her. She jumped back, startled. Damn, she didn't plan to be caught.

Bruno winced looking down at her. "Kid? What are you doing in here?"

"Don't tell Abuelo I was here!" Isabela begged. She feared to think what Abuelo would do. (He probably won't actually do anything bad, just scold her and close her in her room. She wasn't sure why she was so worried about his reaction)

Bruno's eyes widened, he gestured stop. ", Okay, okay..."

She bit her lip, looking up. With how dark it was, she barely could make out her Tío's outlines. "Do you know anything?"

Bruno shrugged his shoulders. "Gotta see the future for that?" He patted her spine, nervous as always. "Are you worried for your sister?"

Isabela didn't reply. Her mind still was too wild to proceed with everything that had happened. Maybe she was? Or maybe she was upset or mad? Or confused? She didn't quite realize her own feelings yet. "Have a good vision."

It would be better not only for Bruno but for Mirabel too. And, well, Isabela wouldn't leave him alone tomorrow until he confessed of what he saw.

—

Bruno froze, staring at the tablet in front of his eyes. An older Mirabel stood in front of Casita. A series of deep cracks ran all over the building. But, when Bruno tilted the vision plate, it would be changed differently.

For the cheese's sake, what does it mean? His visions were never like this. It was supposed to be one certain future that was set in stone. Not.... Whatever it was.

Papa would be so disappointed. Probably say that Bruno wasn't strong enough and failed to protect her. Part of him was afraid. Of the disappointment. Of facing his dad. Bruno didn't want to get in trouble for this vision.

And what would happen to Mirabel if Pedro knows? Knowing his papa, Bruno couldn't imagine a good reaction. In the best case she would probably be protected so much she wouldn't be able to breathe. But, honestly, Bruno could imagine Pedro just sending Mirabel out of Casita from fear that the building would fall on her.

He didn't want this to happen. It would break Mirabel's heart. It would break everyone. Bruno knew he couldn't tell about it to anyone. Was he a coward? Maybe. But he wasn't ready to show it. He didn't think he ever would.

The green plate shattered against the rock in his vision cave. Shrads of the green glass were scattered around the sand, slowly falling under it.

The hard metallic door creaked behind Bruno.

#encanto #fanfic #ao3 author #isabela madrigal #bruno madrigal #pedro and alma swap

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mamelukeraza · 2 years ago

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My relations with the Duke of Reichstadt (2/?)

Hi guys! Here is the second part for this series! Thanks for anyone who supported the first post! Making content about the King of Rome/Napoleon II always makes me happy and fills my heart with joy. I hope you enjoy it!

The next day, that is to say, June 24, I addressed the following lines to Count Dietrichstein: "I have been pleasantly impressed by the spirit, knowledge and judgment that your august pupil displayed in yesterday's interview; therefore I deeply regret to have neglected in the past the opportunity of an interview that honored and delighted me as much as yesterday's. When we bear such a great name and know from childhood that we are called to such high destinies; when, moreover, we are so well gifted like Your Highness and we live in times similar to our own, it is because Providence has appointed us for great things. Ordinary men, regardless of the rank in which they have been placed by birth, aspire and achieve only ordinary things. But men out of line, and among these I dare to count the eminent student of Your Excellency, they have duties towards society and history, from which they are not allowed to evade. I look forward to the time when I am granted to renew my visit of yesterday, and I desire nothing more ardently than to maintain His Highness in the opinion that he has formed of me and to which our interview the day before, as well as the favorable idea that he was able to conceive the content of some of my military writings, will certainly contribute. only to a small extent. Please accept with my best wishes, etc."

In response to this letter, I received a very friendly invitation for the next morning. This one came across the kindest orders of His Excellency the Emperor, who called me to met him that same morning. On my arrival, I saw so many people waiting in the antechambers that I thought I had the patience to see the duke. We talked to each other with all the grace of people who understand each other. I again expressed my wish to see him claim the throne of Greece, free to set whatever conditions he saw fit. This idea made him smile; but I clearly noticed that his desires and hopes were tending higher, moreover, he was trying to abuse of himself, pretending that he was too young by a few years to wear the Hellenic crown, and seeming to fear that we would not let him rule alone. Then, abruptly, he returned with marked interest to the duties and qualities of the commander-in-chief. His eyes sparkled, his cheeks burned. Count Dietrichstein left us alone for a few moments, and the young prince held me tightly with both hands:

"Speak to me frankly," he exclaimed, "do I have some merit, and am I called to a great future, or is there nothing in me that is worthy of ending up like this? What do you think, what do you hope for my future? What will happen to the son of the great emperor? Will Europe support him in taking some kind of independent position? How do I balance my French duty with my Austrian duty? Yes, if France called me, not the France of anarchy, but the one that has faith in the Imperial principle, I would run to her, and if Europe tried to expel me from my father's throne, I would draw the sword against all Europe. But is there an imperial France today? I don't know! A few isolated voices, a few voices without influence, they cannot carry any weight. Such serious resolutions deserve and require more solid foundations. If my destiny is never to return to France, I seriously wish to become another Prince Eugene for Austria. I love my grandfather; I feel that I am a member of his family, and for Austria I would gladly draw my sword against the whole world, except France."

He spoke to me as one speaks to a confessor, and I received his confidences in the same way. These were projects, of course, very legitimate in themselves and that could only become dangerous in a single hypothesis, the realization of which, in truth, was not at all impossible, but seemed at least very distant. Once again he gave vent to the feelings of filial affection. He said that no one had understood his father; that it was pitiful, that it was slanderous not to give his actions any motive other than ambition; that all his life and all his conduct had been consumed by the great and salutary projects which he had conceived for the happiness of Europe; that Austria, in particular, had ignored him and his own interests; that he had played into the hands of the Russians. The duke added that he wanted nothing more than to earn his spurs by fighting them. He spoke with warmth, but also with that frank and intimate conviction of youth. Then, hearing Count Dietrichstein's voice in the next room, he abruptly changed the subject to address this question to me:

— What memory do you have of my father in Egypt? — The memory of a great figure — I answered. — I understand, if you are talking about Ibrahim, the viceroy; but the populations? They have not yet returned from their surprise; this astonishment, however, has not been followed by any irritation, for the Arabs and the Turks, though they have the same faith, do not get along with each other, and one heavy yoke succeeded another still heavier. — Yes, this is an explanation; but the masses see in a great man only a freak of nature, a meteor that shines for a moment and immediately disappears.

At that moment he exclaimed again: — Oh! If only you stayed with me; but before you, opens a path full of smiling perspectives capable of tempting you. I shook his hand and said; "We'll talk about this later."

And we separated after kissing.

Only three days after this interview, and since in the meantime I had only been able to meet the Duke under unfavorable circumstances, I had a special interview with him that lasted for more than two hours. On the morning of that day, Count Dietrichstein had come to visit me and had complained, with the bad temper of a mother, about the duke's stubbornness and his aversion to any study except military art and mathematics; there wasn't even a german spelling that he didn't want to treat his way.

The count recognized that his student had a good nature, which, however, was hardened by indocility and pride. The duke, to whom I shared, insofar as I thought useful, these reproaches, did full justice to the count, especially to his excellent heart, but in short he praised nothing else in him. He had a definite opinion of his entourage, and he spoke to me frankly and forthrightly about the Emperor and the court, with the accent of an upright heart, but also of self-assured intelligence. He loved his grandfather with a filial love; for from the day he was brought to Vienna as a child, he had found in him the tenderness of a father. He had his ittle corner to play in the Emperor's room, spent half the days by his side, ate with him when the Emperor dined alone, shared with him the pleasures of the resort, finally grew close to him, like a branch grafted onto a foreign stump. He told me all this; but he added that he had not forgotten for a moment whose day he kept and in what place his father's ashes lay. He painted the court for me in colors that were often not very favorable, revealing, being honest, only the nature, the judgment, the heart, the garb of Archduke John. It was impossible for me to dispute the accuracy of his assessments. In many people he thought precisely like me, and, inside him, he did not compromise more than I did.

Like the agitated traveler who sighs after a fountain of living water, he thirsted for information about the situation in Europe. I told him everything I knew and thought. Although in my opinion the fall of Charles X was inevitable, I was far from expecting that it would be soon; as for Louis Philippe and the younger branch, I didn't even think about it.

Rather, I believed in a period of anarchy, out of which the new government would emerge. To whom would this government fall divided? Could it be the Napoleonic party? This point was beyond my judgment. I could give the duke no other advice than to strengthen his judgment by reading the history of past times, in order to appreciate contemporary events; thus learning to distinguish reality and truth from appearances and illusions, above all, meditating on his father's story, realizing the current situation of the world, which contains in germ the near future that will be the result by virtue of the irresistible logic of things; furthermore, to affirm his person in the army and in the diplomatic spheres, to attract to him capable men of great experience, of whom I named several, finally, to enlighten himself by all possible means on the internal situation of France. With a wave of his hand, he indicated his book collection, which contained several hundred volumes. They were historical works and memoirs, all related to the war and his father.

This precious treasure was increasing day by day, to which no obstacle was placed. I promised him that I would choose the best among these works, that I would be a very devoted friend of his and that I would complement with my reflections the observations that the general state of politics would suggest to him; finally I begged him not to confuse legitimate desires with achievable desires, but to never lose sight of them. He was so well trained by his young enthusiasm that he called me his Posa(1). I replied to him: — That's the language of a twenty-year-old. Is there any consistency in this will? That is what, at the moment, it is difficult for me to know.” My defiance seemed to sadden him. He kissed me, telling me: — You're right, I don't deserve you to see in me the son of Napoleon. I comforted him with these words: — Your Posa, yes, but on the condition that you do not imitate don Carlos; I will be for your whole life, and I hope, that it will be a glorious life. He reviewed the entire series of steps to be taken so that, once his military house was established, it could be linked to his person. We had time ahead of us in this regard. He thought he would achieve his ends through his grandfather, the Emperor. I authorized him to do everything he could for this purpose. As for him, he no longer doubted success. (1) Allusion to the tragedy of Schiller Don Carlos.

Source: Mes relations avec le duc de Reichstadt : mémoire posthume / par le comte de Prokesch-Osten,. . . ; traduit de l’allemand [par A. de Prokesch-Osten fils]. (s. f.). Gallica. https://gallica.bnf.fr/ark:/12148/bpt6k6536278r/f39.item.zoom

#duke of reichstadt #l'aiglon #napoleon ii #the king of rome #napoleon's son #napoleon's family #anton prokesch-osten #hasburg #memoirs

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solopostings · 7 months ago

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The King and the Mage.

“Do I have to go?” Ravii clicked his tongue as he stood in front of the mirror. Dima – his right-hand man; his Sword – fixed up his cape. It was lighter than he was used to since Isla was a much, much warmer kingdom than Glacia. The young King hated wearing such light clothing ... but he had to do it.

“You must go as the new king of Glacia. Make some sort of peace offering. Join the festivities and look... good.” Dima sighed. He, too, hated going there. But it was to make Glacia look good, after all.

Ravii waved Dima away, fixing his own outfit. Taking a step away from the mirror he spun around, holding his arms out.

“How do I look? Be honest with me, Dima.” Ravii grumbled, he was very much out of his comfort zone in this outfit.

“... you look great.” Dima places his hands behind his back, scanning up and down. “Different, but good.”

“Good enough. Let’s get this festival over with.”

The Glacian walked past Dima, leading the way. Dima immediately followed behind him. Walking out into the streets of Isla.

Just as Glacia in its own way – music was everywhere. The dance and music were different, but overall, it was still something Ravii enjoyed. This festival was meant for The Oracle. It was his birthday, one of the biggest events of the entire kingdom of Isla.

The King of Isla, Amir Zaquatis, invited King Ravii to join in the festivities. Perhaps the last act of peace he could manage after the death of the late King and Queen.

Everyone cheered when the royal Zaquatis siblings walked into the main square. The youngest son, Salem Zaquatis, waved at the crowd and eyed Ravii from where he stood.

“Let us not forget our guest... the King of Glacia himself, Ravii Dominis.” Salem gracefully motions his hand, making the crowd all look at the Glacian.

Ravii blinked. Unable to make a good move with such a callout. Of course he would put the spotlight on him. He didn't want to be noticed here at all.

All Ravii could do in return was bow slightly with a nod.

“Well, let’s not just stand there... start the music!” Layla – the second oldest royal sibling – clapped her hands. With a pink mist flowing around the square, a giant explosion of pink and gold appeared. Revealing a bunch of mage dancers – Layla's personal crew to dance and perform with.

Some began to sing along with the princess of Isla. Bards and other townsfolk played music on instruments to play along with their singing and dancing.

Ravii stood with the crowd who only watched. Dima behind him just in case of some secret attack – who knew what would happen. They were in enemy territory whether they liked it or not.

Layla’s dancers began to pull some people that were in the crown into the main square. Making them dance along to the music. A smaller, blue haired woman dressed in pink and green made her way to Ravii.

She held out her hand to him, gently smiling at him. She looked like a little fairy compared to how giant the Glacian was.

“You’re making a mistake.” Ravii cackled, moving his head away, “There are better people to choose from here.”

“I heard you’re quite the dancer, Your Majesty.” the woman replied, her hand still out for him to take.

Crossing his arms, he glanced up at Dima. In return he only shrugged his shoulders, “... you should have some fun, Your Majesty. That’s why you’re here...”

Ravii sighed, rolling his eyes and took the woman’s hand, “Okay, fine. Just one dance.”

The dancer smiled brightly, holding his hand tightly as she brought him into the middle of the dancing people.

The Zaquatis siblings immediately eyed the Glacian when seeing him of all people dancing along. Valerian – the third oldest – glanced at Layla. Sharing the glance, she smirked. Her song was upbeat in Islean tongue.

Salem sat back, smiling and laughing as he clapped along the beat. He was good at dancing himself, however... he was keeping an eye on that Ice King.

The whole Kingdom had their eyes on the Glacian and that one dancer.

“My name is Rhea, by the way.” The dancer spoke while they were closer together, “Zahira. Rhea Zahira.”

Ravii spun her around, easily keeping pace to her dancing. Letting her draw away, they did not draw their eyes away from each other. Locked on.

“You know who I am already.” Ravii chuckled softly as he motioned around her, holding out his hand for her to take.

“I’d still like you to proper introduce yourself to me.” Rhea mused as she took his hand, “I’ve never met you before, how would I know who you are?”

He laughed in return, pulling her close to him as he took both her hands, “Ravii Dominis. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Rhea Zahira.”

Dima watched them from where he stood, his eyes slowly widening a bit. He had never seen his King smile this long and laugh.

. . . He was laughing. He was happy.

As the song ended, Layla stopped singing and twirled her finger. A slower melody began to play, and she went to sit down with her siblings.

Sahel – the oldest Zquatis sibling – leaned over, whispering in Layla’s ear as he glared at Ravii.

“Who is the girl? She is a part of your damn crew.”

Layla hums as she twirled the hair that dangled over her face with her finger, “I think that is my newest recruit. She has incredible magic, she used to be a priestess or something like that.”

Layla turned her head to look at Sahel, “Why are you asking?”

The older sibling huffed, leaning back in his seat, “She’s flirting with the Ice King. How is it your useless magic did nothing, but this random person...”

“Hey!” Layla huffed, “My magic has limitations, it’s not useless.”

“I don’t like how he is smiling back at her.” Valerian mutters under his breath, glaring at Rhea. “Can you fire her?”

“Boys, boys...” Layla smacked Valerian’s and Sahel’s shoulder as she leans forward, “... We know better than anyone how strict Glacia’s rules are. They can’t go anywhere anyway. She’s just a magician. A dancer. No royal blood in her. Don’t worry about a thing.”

Salem watched silently. Not blinking whatsoever. His cheek rested on his palm as his legs were crossed. Gently kicking his dangling foot to the music.

Everyone saw two people dancing. He witnessed two souls burning brightly. Never in his life has he seen such a phenomenon. They out brightened the entire kingdom with their souls alone.

... Interesting, Salem thought to himself.

Is that what souls look like while they are in love?

The music ended and the people cheered for the two lone dancers taking the spotlight. Ravii and Rhea held hands and bowed to the crowd. Finally letting go, the two shared one last glance and walked back to their spots.

Dima coughed, clearing his throat as he looked back at Ravii, “One dance.”

Ravii clicked his tongue as he crossed his arms, “I haven’t gotten to dance in quite some time, Dima. The winter festival is only once a year.”

The Glacian glanced at the people, then began eyeing Rhea once again as she was speaking to another person. Taking a deep breath, he narrowed his eyes away.

If only he could dance with her alone.

Just one dance. That’s all he wanted.

The festivities continued throughout the entire day, people making their prayers and blessing towards the Oracle. Rhea stood in front of a statue of the Oracle by herself. Her hands cupped together as she held her head down.

Finally, Ravii thought.

Ravii walked beside her, looking up at the statue of Salem. Personally, he hated it. He loathed Salem, hated the entire family... but he would behave. Keeping his mouth shut for the sake of "peace."

“You danced beautifully. No one has ever been able to keep up with me like that.” Ravii spoke up softly. Rhea gasped, flinching at his sudden presence.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” Ravii frowns as he looks down at her.

She shook her head, laughing a bit, “No, it’s okay... I was so focused on my prayers to our Oracle.” Turning her head to look up at Ravii, she smiled gently.

“You’re fun to dance with... I’m glad you joined me.” Rhea began to walk away from the statue, motioning her head to make Ravii follow her.

Without any hesitation, the Glacian King followed her down an alleyway. More music was playing even in the alley, Rhea took Ravii’s hand and dragged him along.

There they danced without the kingdom’s eyes on them until nightfall. Sneaking away further and further away from the people.

Talking on equal terms, learning about one another. His smile never left the entire time, listening to all her stories, her tales. Her likes and dislikes. How she came to be one of the mages for Layla herself.

After hours, Dima spots the silhouette of the Glacian. He began to panic seeing he had lost the King within mere moments hours ago.

... however, when he drew closer to the shore of this isle, he paused.

There he was; the King and the woman he danced with before sitting by the shore, hand in hand. Their heads resting against each other.

Dima took a step back and grinned.

Leaving the two alone.

#short story #the king and the mage #ravii solo #rhea solo #zaquatis siblings #dima zephir #this was supposed to be a short thing but oops! Full short story

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dragonmasterhiccup · 8 days ago

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Seeing him shift the conversation elsewhere, Freya crossed her arms with a raised brow, "Mhm. Things have changed...all because of your crash landing with Toothless, may I remind you." She held back from snorting, remembering the incident, "I mean, you managed to singlehandedly destroy a whole sea stack, which you're lucky I didn't mention anything of to anyone, by the way."

Scoffing lightly at his answer, she kept her arms folded as she stared at him with a flat expression, "Stoick the Vast not knowing what's happening on this island? Especially with his own son? Hm, we'd be lucky if he doesn't already know our secret plan.." She tapped her arm at the thought of him, out of all people, discovering their fake relationship, and it brought a shiver down her spine. She managed to catch glimpses of what the Chief looked like when he was angry, mostly with Hiccup, and she did not want to be the purpose of it.

With a contemplating expression, she spoke out her predictions of what might happen if Ragnar truly accepted that Hiccup was her supposed 'boyfriend', "Well, if he willingly invites you over to dinner, then you've gotten a massive achievement."

Blaze was quick to run towards the log, readying himself for another round of tug of war, and he clamped his teeth down on the wood, his tail wagging in excitement and determination.

Freya merely lifted her chin at Hiccup's response, watching as he began to take steps away towards the dragons. "Yeah, well... that was a couple of minutes ago, Mr. Nice Guy!" She sighed in defeat, realizing she did admit that he was kind, which left her to stubbornly kick the grass, reminding herself not to be so...hasty in sharing all of her thoughts. That was just her nature, after all.

Picking up her sword to secure it in it's leather covering, she gave a brief whistle, motioning her hand for Blaze, "C'mon, buddy, we need to go see Ayla!" She chuckled at the Sand Wrath as he looked a bit disappointed that he had to abandon the log, but as he heard Ayla's name, his ears perked up and he bounded over towards his rider with a delighted grin. Freya extended out her hand, grabbing a hold of the saddle as he became closer and hauled herself up while he ran by. "I think more ready than you!"

With that, Blaze continued to sprint forward before he opened his wings, vigorously flying up in the air with a gleeful roar.

---------------

As they became closer to her hut, Freya's eyes managed to catch her younger sister walking up towards their home, causing a faint smile to appear on her lips. Blaze seemed to get more joyful seeing her as well, so he dived down towards their hut, landing with grin.

Ayla flinched at the sudden arrival, nearly stumbling back, but quickly recovered once she realized who it was. "Oh, geez, you scared me!" Turning her gaze onto the Chief's son, she almost dropped the jars of herbs she was carrying, "Hiccup!" She squealed in excitement, going up to jump around him as soon as he had gotten off of Toothless, "Hiccup! Hiccup! Hiccup!" She paid no mind to the jars at that point, too thrilled at his presence.

Meanwhile, Freya dismounted Blaze with narrowed eyes directed towards Hiccup, silently proving her point, and she hoped her thoughts could be easily read by her expression: 'See, Mr. Nice guy!' Clearing her throat, she folded her arms, slowly tapping against them as she spoke, "Uhm, hello?" She watched as her sister paused her gamboling, quickly turning her head and taking lengthy steps to where she stood.

"Hi!" Ayla smiled with a hint of mischief, knowing she could easily get on her big sister's nerves. "Did ya have a good time with your new boyfriend?" She cooed, tightly hugging the jars as she mockingly wiggled her shoulders, grinning when she noticed a faint color of red dust over her cheeks. "Ah, so you did!" She giggled trying to run away as she felt the atmosphere shift, silently telling her that she was probably about to be grabbed.

Her attempt to do so was abruptly brought to a complete failure as Freya swiftly wrapped her arms around her shoulders, making sure she also didn't drop the jars, "No, nope! You're not running away this time!" She lifted one of her hands and ruffled Ayla's brunette hair in the way she disliked, "You can't just say something like that and think you'll get away with it!" She yelped as her sisters head suddenly shot up, and although it wasn't as aggressive as she would've expected, it still slightly hurt, allowing the perfect distraction for Ayla to be free.

As if nothing happened, the energetic young girl waltzed up to Hiccup yet again, enthusiastically tapping the jar of herbs, "Sooo, what's up? Did you kiss Fey yet?" Her stare didn't waver even as Freya nearly choked out in shock, still recovering from the painful hit her chin had taken.

"What's that matter with you?" Freya's voice was strained, as though she hadn't drunk water in a while, causing her to clear her throat and stomp up to Ayla, instantly taking her attention as she continued, "We're here because we need you to help us with..something.." She hesitated at first, glancing at Hiccup with a dubious glint in her eyes before she explained her concerns about tomorrow. Once she was finished, she looked at her younger sister with a more earnest expression, "I need to be able to..give you some sort of..signal, or something, to let you know that I need your help in getting me out of there..just in case."

Ayla slowly nodded, registering the whole plan in her mind, "So... You're just scared? But you're never--" She was quick to stop what she was originally going to say by the small defensive glare her older sister gave her, causing her to go in a different route with her choice of words, "Okay...uh, you could...look at me in a certain way so I know you wanna leave? One that I know is different from your usual serious face." She tapped the jar, and idea coming as she did so, "Oh! I know! Maybe you can tap your leg too! Cause you usually do that on your arm, so I wouldn't notice a big difference.."

Freya tried to hide the growing embarrassment that was steadily begining to cling onto her, lightly sighing as she muttered: "I get it.. I tap a lot.."

"Right, but how was I supposed to know you were already on that island, or that my invention would fail?"

He shrugged casually. "Maybe Loki was messing up my day."

Or maybe it was fate...

At her words, an image flashed in his mind, of his father's anger once he'd learned the truth.

Hiccup's eyes widened. "Oh, no, no, if he knew, he, he wouldn't hide it. He'd come after me, specifically...after all, it was my idea. If this does get out...I should take full blame, not you."

Invited to dinner... "Do you suggest I actually try to beat him, or do just well enough to be a challenge, but allow him to ultimately win? What's the best strategy, here?"

Grinning, he pointed at her. "Regardless of when it was, you did still say it!" Starting to turn around, he stopped, facing her again. "Oh, and for what it's worth? I think you're pretty nice, too."

Hiccup raised his brows, impressed, as Freya did the exact same thing he had: mounting a running dragon. "I think you might be right!"

Toothless lifted them into the air, following Blaze to Freya's hut.

----------------

Hiccup landed only a moment after Freya, barely dismounting before Ayla ran up to him.

A wide smile on his face, he happily greeted her. "Ayla! Hey, how're you doing? Oh! Careful, you don't want to drop any of those jars...here, can I lend you a hand?"

As he offered to take some of the jars for her, his gaze met Freya's, and winced slightly at her expression.

To him, it very clearly said 'I told you so!'.

He stayed by Toothless as the sisters spoke, though he could feel his ears burn red at Ayla's teasing Freya...even more so when Ayla confirmed that Freya had indicated she had had a good time with Hiccup.

Since his back was turned, he hadn't seen Freya grab Ayla, though he'd heard it.

Hearing Freya's yelp, he quickly spun around, concerned for a moment only to find that she was just fine.

Pulling a jug of water out of his saddlebag, he took a drink as Ayla approached him again.

Her question caused him to choke on his water, turning his back to the girl as he coughed, trying to get over the shock of that question.

Face red, he strained out, "Wh-what? Ayla...we've only been together for a day, it's, it's a little soon for that, isn't it?"

Coughing twice more through his elbow, he cleared his throat, somewhat back to normal.

At least Freya seemed just as shocked at the question, too.

As Freya told Ayla of their plan, it gave Hiccup a few more minutes to fully recover, though he wasn't sure he ever would...

Kiss Freya?

He kissed her forehead at the Great Hall earlier, but that was different, she had just kissed his hand, so...

But...kiss her?

They were in a fake relationship. He doubted he'd ever get the chance to, as he wouldn't without Freya giving him some sign, some signal that it was okay.

But...what if it did happen?

Well...he'd just have to make sure it was a good one.

Turning his attention back to Ayla and Freya, he walked closer, joining them.

It was getting dark, now. Sunset had turned into dusk, and soon they'd need torches to see each other.

"So, you'll do it? You'll help us?"

#asks #threads #justpeaxchy

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howyouloveyourdragon · 2 years ago

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tldr; my next series to binge because i swear i didn't mean to get hurt and invested this hard

“Avy jorrāelan, vēzos qēlossās ñuho”, Aemond whispered against the shell of your ear. I love you, my sun and stars.

already giving me high hopes, i love when writers add little nicknames between pre-established characters, it feels so much more real ily for this

a stark contrast to the weight of the emotion held within the depths of Aemond’s lilac coloured eye as he gazed upon you.

oh shiiiittt the way that this was written i just–

“I wish I knew what you were saying when you speak to me in your mother tongue,” you admitted wistfully. A quiet “mmm” rumbled its way through Aemond’s chest as he bumped his nose against yours. “One day I will teach you.” He promised.

oml i love when writers talk about this because valyrian isn't understandable most times to reader and i feel like it would be something so vulnerable and personal to aemond considering his upbringing ah im talking too much rn but yes! love that detail so much

Truthfully, confessing his feelings and deepest desires to you was far easier when you couldn’t comprehend his words.

EXACTLY WHAT I MEANT YES

You gasped, arching up into his body as his knee pushed upwards to part your thighs, nudging against your most intimate of areas.

oh?

“Skori iksā ñuha ābrazȳrys eminna jemome.” When you are my wife I will have all of you.

i swear––

“I made this for you,” you offered, outstretching your hands to present what was held within them. Aemond’s mouth had hung agape in wonder. An intricate needlepoint of his beloved dragon was stitched into the fabric. Every minute detail of her captured skillfully in thread.

reader >>>>>

He’d kept the needlepoint and to this day it was still one of his most treasured possessions.

i can just imagine him putting it on display, being so proud of himself for once now that he knows someone sees him claiming vhagar as a good thing too

From that point onwards, he’d found any excuse to be close to you. Sharing his favourite books with you, inviting you to watch him train with the sword, asking you to join him when he went on rides with Vhagar. Your presence was intoxicating and he couldn’t get enough.

SWEET BABY BOY

he’d reached timidly for your hand “Kostilus shijetra nyke.” Please forgive me.

okay but what if he's saying it in high valyrian cause he's ashamed oh god im gonna cry someone hug this bby boy

His heart had soared at how tightly you’d gripped his hand. “Kostilus māzigon arlī naejot nyke” he’d said softly as the maester applied ointment to your scraped knee. Please come back to me.

i wasn't made for this it hurts bby it hurts

Aemond sat snugly behind you, arms circling your waist.

please he's probably too anxious to let go

hiding his face in your neck.

i don't need to explain anything about my next sentence–

this is so aemond

it just is

“Ah, yes!” he smiled, snatching up his wine goblet, “A toast! To my darling daughter and her betrothal to Jason Lannister!”

i'm sorry what?

“Foolish girl,” he chastised, “You can’t remain a ward of House Targaryen forever and we need to strengthen our allies for Aegon’s claim to the throne. Your marriage to House Lannister will bring them on side.”

I BEG TO DIFFER BITCH

“But…” he stopped, thinking over his next words carefully, he’d never said them aloud before, at least not in the common tongue, “I’m in love with her, mother. I had hoped to marry her. “I know, sweet boy”, Alicent said sympathetically, grasping his forearms in a tender gesture of comfort, “But she is betrothed to someone else.”

Aemond, I can’t marry Jason fucking Lannister. Please, we can run away together?” You parted from him, looking at him questioningly when his arms didn’t move to wrap around you. “Aemond?" “You have to marry him” he said, not meeting your gaze.

i would beat this man up and i truly mean that

“For the good of the family”. Then why did he feel like he was dying?

STOP WHY WOULD YOU AFFECT ME LIKE THIS IT HURTS

The Shielded Heart - Part One

Part two Warnings: Smut, Angst Word count: 2.4k

Summary: Aemond is yours and you are his, but what happens when you're both forced to choose between duty and true love?

“Avy jorrāelan, vēzos qēlossās ñuho”, Aemond whispered against the shell of your ear. I love you, my sun and stars. The fingertips of his left hand traced the line of your jaw softly, as he stared down at you, supporting his weight above you with his right.

You giggled, the grass of the hillside you lay upon soft against your back, a stark contrast to the weight of the emotion held within the depths of Aemond’s lilac coloured eye as he gazed upon you. You held the prince close to you, one arm wrapped tightly around his waist, while the fingers of the other toyed lazily with the clasps on his tunic. “I wish I knew what you were saying when you speak to me in your mother tongue,” you admitted wistfully.

A quiet “mmm” rumbled its way through Aemond’s chest as he bumped his nose against yours. “One day I will teach you.” He promised.

Truthfully, confessing his feelings and deepest desires to you was far easier when you couldn’t comprehend his words. The thought of telling you his entire world held you at its center, and entertaining the possibility that you may not feel the same, made his heart twist painfully in his chest. It was more than he could endure. And so praises and fond declarations were uttered without understanding during your many trysts.

You gasped, arching up into his body as his knee pushed upwards to part your thighs, nudging against your most intimate of areas.

Capturing your lips in a searing kiss, Aemond trailed his hand from your jaw to cup your breast through your bodice. “Jaelan ao” he muttered against your lips. I want you. He was desperate to have you fully; mind, soul and body, yet he wouldn’t dare defile you outside of wedlock. He’d kissed, tasted and touched every part of your body, yet never attempted to breach your maidenhood, despite your urgent and wickedly tempting pleas for him to do so every time you found yourselves alone together.

“Aemond, please,” you whined piteously, grinding down against his thigh, desperate for any kind of release. “I don’t give a shit about my virtue!”

“Then you are lucky that I do”, he purred against the skin of your neck, his tongue laved along the soft skin of your throat, “Skori iksā ñuha ābrazȳrys eminna jemome.” When you are my wife I will have all of you.

It had never been a doubt in Aemond’s mind that the pair of you would one day be married. He’d loved you for as long as he could remember. You were sent as a ward by your house when you were a child, a playmate for his younger sister Helaena, but he’d instantly been enamoured by you. You were the only person besides his mother and sister to show him kindness when his own nephews and brother presented him with a pig in place of a dragon as a cruel joke. You didn’t treat him any differently following his disfigurement at the hands of Lucerys. Looking back, falling in love with you had been the easiest thing in the world. Actually saying the words aloud, however, proved rather more difficult.

He remembered fondly, a moon’s turn after he’d claimed Vhagar and lost his eye, you’d approached him shyly, a piece of fabric clutched tightly in your hands.

“I made this for you,” you offered, outstretching your hands to present what was held within them.

Aemond’s mouth had hung agape in wonder. An intricate needlepoint of his beloved dragon was stitched into the fabric. Every minute detail of her captured skillfully in thread.

“You made this? For me?” he’d asked, unable to keep the smile out of his voice.

You’d nodded, smiling sweetly. “I hope you like it.”

“Nyke jorrāelagon ziry, Avy jorrāelan.” He’d whispered. I love it, I love you. He’d kept the needlepoint and to this day it was still one of his most treasured possessions.

All of this you did eagerly. You longed to be near to Aemond and cherished any time you spent together. As your friendship grew, so did your feelings for the one eyed prince.

Your young fragile heart had broken upon finding out that Aegon had taken Aemond to a pleasure house in the Silk Streets on his thirteenth name day. It was as though a dirty blemish had been placed upon your friendship, ugly and glaring.

“That is so…so disgusting, Aemond,” you’d whispered, not trusting your voice not to crack should you try to speak with more volume. Your eyes burned with unshed tears. You hadn’t known it then but the fiery ache that burned deep within your chest was an acrid mixture of jealousy and betrayal, a ghost of it should have been me displaying itself as disapproval.

“I didn’t want to do it, Aegon made me”, he’d retorted, his tone laced with hurt, he’d reached timidly for your hand “Kostilus shijetra nyke.” Please forgive me.

“I can’t understand you!” you’d shouted, jerking away from him and back to your chambers, tears flowing freely.

You hadn’t spoken for three days after that and your absence made Aemond utterly miserable. He’d have burned that wretched whorehouse to the ground if only to see you smile again.

He’d happened upon you on one of the spiral stone staircases in the Red Keep, clutching your knee and sniffling.

“What happened?” he asked, full of concern as he stooped to look at your tear stained face.

“I slipped,” you hiccupped through tears, “My knee…I…”

He’d gently coaxed your hands away, gingerly lifting your skirts to inspect the injured appendage. A nasty looking scrape, bright red and angry looking immediately made itself apparent.

“I’ll help you to the maester”, he’d offered, holding a hand out to you.

You’d pulled Aemond into a tight hug after he’d walked you back to your chambers. “Thank you”, you’d whispered to him.

Your friendship had resumed as normal without issue from that point, until a few days after your sixteenth name day.

The icy winds tousled your hair wildly, your stomach flipping as Vhagar soared above the clouds. You sat astride her saddle, holding tightly to her reigns. Aemond sat snugly behind you, arms circling your waist. A sudden jolt had made you squeal, you turned your face back towards Aemond, a beaming smile tugging at your lips. You’d bumped noses, not realising just how close he was to you and he’d pressed a tentative kiss to your lips. You’d parted, sharing a longing stare, before diving back in, this time needier and filled with inexperienced passion as his large hand cupped your cheek possessively.

Your relationship had blossomed that day. Your easy friendship became hushed whispers, giggles and kisses stolen in empty corridors. Your rides on Vhagar took you to isolated spots where you could explore and enjoy each other’s bodies unhindered.

You’d managed to keep your love affair a secret, although Aegon had offered a knowing smirk each time he’d seen you and Aemond heading away from the Red Keep in your riding gear. Aemond wanted to slap the look from his older brother’s face. He knew nothing. Aemond would never treat you with the brazen disrespect that Aegon reserved for Helaena and his countless whores.

It was a ride on Vhagar that had brought you to this grassy hillside, laying in each other’s arms.

Your eyes grew heavy with the lateness of the afternoon, as the sun began its slow descent downwards.

“We should go back”, you said softly, pecking your lover on the lips.

“Jaelan naejot umbagon hae bisa va moriot”, he mumbled petulantly, hiding his face in your neck. I want to stay like this always.

“Aemond!” you scolded playfully, nudging his leg with your foot.

“Fine, fine!” he finally relented, untangling from your embrace and standing, offering a hand to help you up.

You both dressed and mounted Vhagar. It was almost dark by the time you reached the Red Keep. Consciously, the pair of you parted to keep a distance deemed suitable as you entered the main hall.

“Father?!” you said shocked, as the familiar figure rose from the table to greet you.

“My beloved daughter”, he smiled, reaching out to take your hands in his, “I had hoped you’d be here when I arrived, alas I have had to wait. I have exciting news for you.”

Your heart thumped heavily in your chest as he spoke. Since you’d become a ward of the Targaryen/Hightower household your father had rarely visited. You’d wager that your definition of “exciting news” would differ greatly from his.

“But first, perhaps a bath? I can smell you’ve been on dragon back!” he exclaimed, wrinkling his nose.

You looked worriedly at Aemond as your departed from the hall. His eye was downcast, but the look of concern etched across his features was unmistakable to you.

Dinner was being served as you emerged from your chambers, freshly washed and changed into a new gown. You felt nauseated as you pushed your food around your plate. When the idle chatter around the table became too much for you to bear, you laid down your fork, turning to your father.

“You said you had news, father?”

“Ah, yes!” he smiled, snatching up his wine goblet, “A toast! To my darling daughter and her betrothal to Jason Lannister!”

Your mouth fell agape as your blood ran cold. You’d stopped breathing. Your eyes instantly found Aemond’s, the look of shock and upset in his bright purple iris mirrored your exact feelings.

“Father, no! I don’t want this!” you protested, trying to keep your voice level and failing miserably.

It was apparent there was nothing you could say to sway the decision that had been made. The silence around the table was deafening, as all eyes were upon you, awaiting a reaction.

“I see…” you said slowly, “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll take my leave, I’m suddenly feeling unwell.”

The chair legs scraped loudly against the flagstones as you stood, walking swiftly from the hall without looking back.

“Mother, did you know about this?” Aemond questioned Alicent. He’d immediately sought her out once dinner was over, desperate for answers regarding your sudden betrothal.

She eyed him carefully, wringing her hands at the worried lines etched into her youngest son’s brow. “I did” she said simply.

“How can you let this happen?!” he demanded.

“I have no daughters to offer House Lannister, as you well know”, she sighed, absent mindedly picking her nails, “Helaena is married to Aegon. The next best thing we could offer is a ward of our house.”

“I know, sweet boy”, Alicent said sympathetically, grasping his forearms in a tender gesture of comfort, “But she is betrothed to someone else.”

Aemond cast his eye downwards, feeling bile rise in his throat. “I have lost my eye to my nephew, both my sister and the crown to my brother and now I’m to lose the woman I love to a fucking Lannister.”

To someone who didn’t know better, Aemond’s tone would have sounded insolent and angry, however, Alicent could sense in his voice the tears he held back and her heart broke for him. “Think of your family, Aemond. I know this hurts now, but it is for the good of our family. This needs to happen. Please learn to accept it and be happy for her. It will be easier for everyone.”

Aemond nodded curtly, withdrawing his arms from her hands and exiting the room.

Your eyes felt raw from the tears you’d shed since fleeing the dinner table. You desperately craved the comfort that only Aemond could provide. None of this felt real. Once you were certain everyone in the Keep would be abed, you snuck from your room making your way to Aemond’s.

As you’d suspected he would be, Aemond was still awake. He sat in a chair in his study, obviously lost in thought as he watched the flames in the fireplace burn low.

“Aemond.” You whispered, approaching him cautiously, not wanting to startle him.

He turned to you, rising from his chair and you ran to him, clinging to him desperately.

“Aemond, I can’t marry Jason fucking Lannister. Please, we can run away together?”

You parted from him, looking at him questioningly when his arms didn’t move to wrap around you.

“Aemond?”

“You have to marry him” he said, not meeting your gaze.

“What?!” you gasped, betrayal piercing through your chest.

“For the good of the family” Alicent’s voice echoed in Aemond’s head, as he drew in a shaky breath, unable to meet the intensity of your accusatory stare.

“Please, you aren’t making any sense! I love you, Aemond. Don’t you love me?”

“Avy jorrāelan olvie hen mirros isse se vys. Iksā ñuha prūmia. Ziry kills nyke naejot tepagon ao bē” he murmured. I love you most of anything in the world. You are my heart. It kills me to give you up.

“Aemond?” you asked, your voice small.

Finally he looked at you, steeling himself to utter a lie that would break both your hearts. “No, I do not love you.”

The sob that ripped from your throat was like a dagger to Aemond’s chest and he had to fight every urge in his body to not run after you as you fled from him, weeping bitterly. If only he’d stayed true to his words of keeping you both on the hillside earlier that afternoon, then you’d still be his.

“For the good of the family”. Then why did he feel like he was dying?

Tag list (this is a side blog, so I cannot reply to requests for tags, I will simply edit the fic to add you, so that I remember to tag you in the next part): @munsonswrld @100layersofdaddyissues @bellameshipper @crazylokonugget @mddieeunson @crispmarshmallow

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