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celestialprincesse · 5 months

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𝟏. 𝐀 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐞

Part One of Foreigner's God King Simon Riley X F! Faerie Reader

WC: 2k

Sunlight fractures through the leaves of age old oaks and ancient pines, dappling against your back, weaving through long strands of untamed hair to brush a kiss against your thinly clothed shoulders, spiders silk and gauze just barely fluttering on a phantom breeze stirred by the muted clopping of horse hooves on the forest floor. The mare beneath you holds tension in her withers, matching the unpleasant knotting of the muscle between your shoulder blades. She knows what’s coming just as well as you do.

It’s been a long time since you’ve felt anxiety this way. It’s the kind of gnawing, unsettling feeling at the pit of your stomach that comes only from venturing away from the safety of the trees and caves, brooks and hollow roots you call home. Your people call home. You force yourself to swallow down the fear - remind yourself that you’re doing this for them. Without this sacrifice, your sacrifice, the woods and forests which serve as sanctuary for your entire species, would be gone. The sick feeling in your stomach refuses to be soothed.

In an attempt to calm yourself, to tear your mind away from the images you’ve conjured of what may await you on the forest edge, you focus intently on every slow stride of your companion. You draw your thoughts to counting every rhythmic movement of her shoulders, the way they gently jostle your hips as you follow each motion of hers with one of your own. A push and pull of a gentle tide. She and you melt into one being, acting and reacting in such effortless synchrony, such enviable elegance. An innate ability for which your kind are revered.

Humans long lost touch with nature - shunned it in favor of such rapid growth, such vast power. They burned the trees to make room for their sprawling palaces, dug up the earth and all of her riches to build their roads, to grow their crops, never once wondering what she could provide had they simply respected her instead. Your people had never done such a thing, and for that, you’d been blessed. She’d provided you with everything you could ever have needed, and all you’d ever had to do was provide for her in turn. That balance, that equilibrium, is what humans have long since forgotten. Compromise, to them, is an impossible thing. To you and your kind, it’s an intrinsic part of life.

At this moment, you feel that perhaps you know compromise better than any.

The journey so far has been painstakingly long. On the one hand, it’s something you feel grateful for, that you’ve time to prepare yourself for the life that lies beyond the treeline. On the other, however, it’s excruciating. To ride through the forest, down the path away from the only life you’ve ever known, to mourn something you’ve not yet even lost. Every blazing orange dusk is another grain of sand dripping through the fingers of time, and every golden lighted dawn a death knell. You wonder if your sisters miss you the way you miss them. Your mother, too. Maybe they sit in quiet solitude, wondering what you’re doing at any given moment, or maybe they cry tears of frustration and anger at the fact that it could’ve been anyone else. Anyone but you.

The days before had been spent in a resigned sort of mourning. You’d saved your tears for the first days of your voyage.

You still so vividly remember sitting with your mother as she twisted up your hair, pinning it with flowers as she reminisced upon the girl taken by the last king. She’d been only as old as your youngest sister, Ophelia, when it had happened. Once every generation, every two, if you were at all lucky. You, unfortunately, were not. She’d spoken of how silent everything fell when the girl had been sent away - the strange, pained feeling that had settled over your people as they’d watched her go resigned into the trees. She’d never come back, of course, a fate that you too share. The small hope flickering like a fading ember at the bottom of your heart sings songs of longing. Such a foolish thing it is, holding out that perhaps the man who waits beyond the woods will love you, guide you to him with coaxing words and the gentlest of touches. You feel pathetic even thinking of it.

You never had quite outgrown your childish fantasies of love, and in turn, had given the humans holed up behind their cold stone walls another innocent heart to break.

When the sun shrinks back to nothing but a hazy golden glow, like that of a dying fire or burning star, you realize that more for your horse’s sake than your own, that it’s time to stop, to rest before you carry on with your journey. A day or two more and you’ll have reached the place where the canopy dwindles and the roots which cover the forest floor grow sparse, travel under the earth as though to hide from the human feet which march upon them. You hope for at least one more blissful sleep under the stars, moss under your head and night creatures watching your rest with vigilant, unseeing eyes.

Settling aside the small pond where your horse bends at her withers to drink, you lay up against the gnarled stump of a fallen tree, which yields to accommodate your body, just one of the many perks of being so connected with nature. You’ve no need to set up a campsite when the forest welcomes and provides for you with such ease. It’s not easy to forget the fact that the forest probably recognises the way you’re feeling - sympathizes with your predicament.

As you drift off into a fitful sleep, under the comforting twinkle of the stars, A king is waking. Behind the fortified stone walls of the palace, the revelry celebrating the lead up to King Simon’s wedding has lasted for days. To most, it’s an opportunity to celebrate. Their cold, reclusive king finally taking a wife. When the betrothal had been announced, the sigh of relief collectively exhaled by the nation had been palpable. He hadn’t wanted to do it - marry some wild forest thing and rut her full of little fat wailing babies. Johnny had been the unfortunate soul tasked with convincing him - reminding him that since Tommy passed, so did the soul heir to the Riley line. With enemies poised in the south, ready to exploit any weakness they could find, Simon hadn’t exactly had much choice. His being backed into a corner, however, hasn’t made him the most pleasant to deal with during the preamble to his rapidly inbound nuptials. For not only his sake, but also everyone else’s, he hopes that his bride-to-be is at least reasonably tame. With his luck? Highly doubtful.

His closest men had shared their theories and fantasies of some nymph-like creature, lovely and demure, happy to bend to Simon’s every whim, less wife, more well trained pet. Whilst he can appreciate a beautiful woman just as much as any man can, he keeps his expectations low - pleasant to be around and a decent conversationalist is enough for him.

He’s tried to expel the thoughts of marriage from his mind for as long as possible. He’s far too busy to be distracted with silly fantasies of rose petal decorated aisles and which rings he’ll select for his betrothed. Keeping a kingdom running and the vulture-like men that are his enemies at bay is no mindless thing. Simon barely has time enough to sleep, let alone celebrate a wedding he doesn’t want, nor to take the day-long trek to the agreed meeting place to collect his new wife. To collect his new wife. Parade her on horseback like some exotic acquisition to be flaunted, to grow bored with when the novelty inevitably wears off.

It’s impossible to ignore the way his knees creak as he rolls tiredly from his bed, the fathomless cold embedded in the very core of the flagstone floors seeping into his bare feet as he dresses himself. In spite of his status as King, Simon keeps his appearance reasonably simple, his tunics plain and armor scarcely decorated. Easier to dress. Simon Riley is a man of convenience, the bells and whistles of being monarch are nothing but a hindrance.

The celebrations have thankfully quieted, all of his courtiers and castle residents undoubtedly tired, hungover and sore from the days of singing, dancing and drinking - days which he’s mostly spent holed away in his study, playing chess with wooden carved soldiers on battle maps, giving the occasional go-ahead to wedding planners and burying his nose in any literature on strategy he can find. Today, unfortunately, his kingly duties outweigh his reclusiveness. He’ll only travel with Price to the meeting point - having originally wanted to go alone so as to make your initial meeting less intimidating, a point to which the head of his Kingsguard had made his disagreement abundantly clear. Yes, Price knows that Simon is fully capable of looking out for himself, but he sure as hell isn’t giving him any chance of proving that. He’s also desperate to get out of the castle and away from the mothers attempting to shove their daughters at his feet. So, with huffed complaints about the weather, and the threat of oncoming rain, signaled by the gritty gray clouds blotting out the starlight, the two men set off. Hooves beat thunderously across stone, dirt and grass as they make their way past the walls of the city, through the dwindling suburbs of thatched roofs and smoking chimneys and out into the vast plains of the countryside. The fresh air is a welcome reprieve from the smoke and burning metal of forges, the grassy hills and fields stretching for miles a refreshing break from the towering monoliths of stone that make up the palace. He can see why people would like it out here, away from the banal chatter of gossip and the unrelenting noise, left to grow stagnant within the confines of winding alleys or houses packed so closely together. Simon hasn’t even met you, and yet he already finds himself sympathizing for the adjustment you’ll have to make.

You, meanwhile, feel surprisingly more grounded following your nap, having allowed both yourself and your horse to rest for a while before continuing your journey. The gnawing anxiety in your stomach is soothed by the handful of blackberries you’d found and snacked on as you continued through the slowly more sparse woodland, and although you’re still wallowing, at least you’re not wallowing on an empty stomach and no sleep.

The sun slowly inches west behind the cloud cover, which quickly replaces the forest canopy you’ve always known, and tells you that in your mental absence, another day has nearly come and gone, and with that, the mileage covered which draws you closer to your inevitable fate. The birdsong has long since gone quiet, and there’s no longer movement indicative of life in the shrubbery. Just you, and the parapet on which you seem to endlessly walk.

Until the forest seems to stop entirely. The trees halt their growth at some invisible boundary, wildflowers cease their spread with an unnatural abruptness and your stomach goes lurching. Like you’ve jumped from a cliff. You’ve jumped from a cliff, you’re about to hit the ground, and everything in you is screaming for time to stop, for fate to twist, for the inevitable to be somehow avoided.

You could turn back. You could still turn back, and the forest would welcome you home with open arms. You could go home to your sisters, to your mother and the magic woven into everything you’ve ever known.

You could turn back - but in turning back, you’d only shatter the fragile peace forged so weakly between your own people, and those who’ve come to take you away.

“Looks petrified.” Price observes from where he and Simon stand proud upon the hill, watching as a faerie on a white horse comes emerging tentatively from the treeline. You do, you poor, delicate thing, Simon thinks to himself as he, Price, and their imposing black friesians make their way to greet you.

Happy Foreigner's God day to those who celebrate 1.8k and 2k are basically the same so pls enjoy the 1st chapter 💕

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icepopstar5105us · 4 months

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“Hey. Uh, Johnny?” Danny said awkwardly, “What does it mean when one of the older ghosts calls you their favored and why does it freak people out?”

Johnny 13 gave the halfa a bewildered look, “Dude. Didn’t you listen to Death? At all?”

“Death?” Danny scrunched his face, “What do you mean? I don’t…”

“Wait.” Johnny straightened, “You’ve talked with Death, right? She explained-?”

Danny shook his head, confused, “Was I supposed to?”

“When you first died, she’s supposed to appear. She gives a whole spiel and then transfers a bunch of information.” Johnny frowned, “She did it for Plasmius, so it’s not a halfa thing.”

“Oh.” Danny looked down, “What if… What if someone died and came back a few times very quickly? Would that… Would that cause any problems?”

Johnny stilled, horrified, “Ok. Look, do you want to talk about your death? Because I’m not asking if you don’t, but...”

“I guess…” Danny said, “So you know that my parents made the portal, right?”

“Yeah.” Johnny said.

“They’d been trying to do it for a long time. Plasmius actually worked with them for a while back when they were in college. It’s why all of their tech is similar in design.” Danny explained, “They built the thing, plugged it in, turned it on… and nothing.”

“But it works now.” Johnny frowned.

“Yeah. It does.” Danny nodded, “But remember my friends? Sam and Tucker?”

“The edgy emo and the computer geek?”

“As Sam’s friend, I am obligated to inform you that she is goth not emo… but yes, those two.” Danny smiled sadly, “My mom and dad were upset. They left the house and Jazz was working her shift at a library. The whole house was empty and I was… you know. A normal teenager home alone.”

Johnny snorted at that, “Ah yes. A completely normal teenager

“Yeah, yeah. The point is, the first thing I did after being left home alone was call my friends over.” Danny rolled his eyes, “Told them what happened and… It was Sam who suggested we go down there first — she’s always been into ghost and occult stuff — and look around. Tucker was down, because it was tech even if we didn’t think most of the tech would work. He wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to mess around with it. Jazz had given me some lectures on lab safety — my parents don’t usually follow it themselves — and I had a bad feeling so I put on the Hazmat suit.”

“That’s not a superhero costume you came up with?” Johnny asked, eyes widening.

“No, um. It’s a hazmat suit. The only way I changed my form was the insignia and even then that was Sam’s idea.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, but um….” Danny paused, “We wound up standing outside the portal. It wasn’t working or anything, but there was a big spooky metal hole in the wall. You know, the kind of thing you’d expect in sci-fi movies. Sam dared me to go in and I was nervous. That bad feeling just intensified, but again — fourteen. I wasn’t being smart about it. So… I went into it. I kept going and it was dark. I was turning back when I tripped and I flailed. Accidentally hit some button that was on the side and it turned on.”

Johnny took a sharp breath.

“And um. Did you know that the portal takes a lot of electricity to start up?” Danny joked weakly, “Took three blocks worth. Um, lots of ectoplasm, too — from both the zone and the artificial stuff my parents use.” He shuffled, “So um, turns out both those things can revive and kill people. So I just kind of — died and revived a lot until it turned on and basically spat me out into the lab.

“That’s - Kid…”

“So um, maybe since I was dying and reviving so much death didn’t have a chance to fill me in? Honestly, would have like the heads up.” Danny said sheepishly, “I didn’t even understand what had happened until ghosts started coming through the portal.”

“Seriously?”

Danny shrugged, “I mean, I kind of suspected. I was falling through floors. It was hard to ignore, but I didn’t know - My parents are good inventors, but not the best scientists and it made things hard to figure out.”

“What? You bought that whole non-sentient BS?”

“No.” Danny shook his head, “I just didn’t buy any of it — and I mean none of it. I wanted nothing to do with the whole thing. The whole town thought my parents were crazy, they were always in the lab working, and I only ever saw them briefly once or twice a day. Don’t get me wrong. They’re still my parents and I love them, but… they have two big priorities. Their work and their kids. Their work is just… a higher priority to them.”

“Oh.” Johnny cringed, “Oh. Kid…”

“So yeah. Life sucks. Death sucks… but I really need to know what to do and why Ember is freaking out over me being called ‘favored one’.”

“Uh, right.” Johnny paused, “Well, it’s like old ghost language. Um. Basically, it’s like being called a really, really close friend or adopted family. Kind of like… ‘hey, this is my person that I love and protect’. It’s platonic unless they specify otherwise.”

“Huh, okay.” Danny blinked, “That makes sense, but why would Ember freak out?”

“Well… who called you that?”

“Oh! Clockwork and Pandora call me that when I visit.”

Johnny blanched, “What?”

“And now you’re freaking out, too.”

“You’ve been just- Kid! Are you just casually talking to them?”

“Um, yeah? They said it was okay?”

“Do you know nothing about the hierarchy of the- Wait. No. You didn’t get to talk to Death. Of course you don’t-“ Johnny sighed — covering his eyes, “Okay, so do you know what the ancients are?”

“I thought that was just a saying.”

“No, it’s not-” Johnny pinched the bridge of his nose, “The Ancients are the most powerful spirits in the Zone. They’re ghosts, but they resemble ideals more than they do a person most of the time. Practically gods. The ancients are Undergrowth, Frostbite, Nocturne, Pandora, Clockwork, Vortex, and Pariah Dark. Thing is… where most ghosts plateau at a certain power level the ancients can just keep growing in power. Clockwork is one of the strongest — so strong, the Observants bound him to their will.”

“Yeah, I heard about that, but he’s really nice, you know.” Danny smiled, “And he makes really good cookies really fast.”

Johnny stared at Danny for a long moment, “Danny. Do you not hear yourself right now? He’s basically the god of time.”

“Yeah, but if he didn’t want me to visit, I wouldn’t be able to find him.” Danny shrugged, “So he told me if I can see the clocktower, I’m welcome to come in.”

“Kid…”

“Besides. I’m friends with half of those guys and they’re cool.”

“Wha- How many ancients do you know?”

“Um�� All the ones you just listed? I’m friends with Frostbite, Pandora, and Clockwork. I fought Undergrowth, Vortex and Nocturne before, but Nocturne likes me now. Um, Undergrowth doesn’t like me, though. Loves Sam, though… Um, obviously I know who Pariah Dark is after the whole thing in Amity-“

Johnny stilled, “Wait a minute… Kid. I need you to answer me honestly here… Did Pariah ever mention a challenge when you fought him?”

“Well, um. I guess? He was all formal speak, though, so…”

“Kid.” Johnny said very slowly, “Did he ever issue a challenge or accept a challenge from you?”

“… Um. He did say that he accepted my challenge or something, but wasn’t that just fight-talk or…”

“I think I get it now.” Johnny sighed, facepalming, “Just… maybe don’t tell people about this and consider asking one of the ancients allies you have about what Pariah accepting your challenge means for you.”

“For me? What-“

“Just… give it some thought.” Johnny paused, “And- Well, I can talk to Ember for you, yeah?”

“Thanks.”

—

Danny curled up on a sofa as Pandora embraced him with three arms and ran her fourth hand through his hair.

“Pandora.” Danny said softly, “Some of my friends say you, Frostbite, and Clockwork are ancients.”

“They are correct.”

“I didn’t know what ancients were.”

“I noticed.” Pandora laughed a bit, “But you’re a sweet child. You helped me get my box back and did not demand my favor. Perhaps it was selfish not to tell you, but I didn’t want to distress you. You are a kind and humble soul. Is it such a surprise I wish to continue seeing you?”

“You thought I would stop if I did?” Danny asked, confused, “I mean, sure my other friends were shaken up by it, but they don’t know you. Why would I be afraid when you’re so nice?”

Pandora blinked and then smiled warmly — a little laugh pulling from her throat. Oh, the innocence of such a young spirit, “Why, indeed? I suppose I didn’t give you or myself enough credit, did I?”

Danny shrugged, “I don’t have room to judge people for being different anyway. I’m a halfa. Pretty sure that’s even rarer than being an Ancient, right?”

“I suppose that is true.” Pandora smiled, “There are only a few halfas and none are quite like you. There will only ever be one of you.”

“Does this have something to do with why I never got to meet death?” Danny asked, confused, “That’s the only thing I can find that seems all that different-“

“In a way… Yes, but there are many more differences. The main one is that you powers have grown beyond Vlad Masters and they continue to do so.” Pandora said, “You are what we call a ‘Juna Potenco’. Most realms will never have heard of such things, but us ancients do not forget and when faced with a gift like yourself… well, you’ll only see more of us with time.”

“What does that mean? Is it bad?”

“No, no. It is a gift, not a punishment.” Pandora promised, “You are an inspiring soul, favored one, and it seems the realms themselves have seen that.”

“That doesn’t sound right.” Danny pulled away and sat up as he shook his head, “I’m a halfa, but that’s what I am. It doesn’t say anything about who I am. There isn’t anything special about who I am.”

“Everyone else disagrees with that last statement.” Pandora shook her head, “But I will let you in on the secret.”

“Yeah?”

“These are not due to your half spirit nature, but something truly special.” Pandora cupped his cheek, “Danny, do you truly wish to know? As amazing as this is, I am not sure you will be ready for the truth just yet.”

“I’m - I’ve been debating what colleges to apply for, but… I don’t know if any of them will take me now with my grades. I still look fourteen — fifteen at the oldest… and I still feel fourteen.” Danny looked at Pandora with pleading eyes, “So if this would impact my future, I think I’d like to know. Before things get complicated.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Suddenly, everything froze.

Danny looked up to see Clockwork putting a medallion on Pandora while Frostbite gave him a smile.

“I presume you’re here to assist in informing him?” Pandora asked.

“Indeed.” Frostbite nodded.

“Informing me of what?” Danny asked, confused.

“When you went to face Pariah Dark, you stated your intention to fight him.” Clockwork said, “And he accepted your challenge. You fought in single combat, removed the Crown of Fire from his head, and then managed to get him into the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep.”

“Vlad-“

“Plasmius might have locked the Sarcophagus, but you have repeatedly bested him and even when he has gotten the best of you, it has not been in single combat. However, Plasmius at one point claimed your fight was a ‘fun challenge’. You agreed — officially accepting it as such. When you defeated him, he lost any fragile claim to the throne.”

“Claim to the- Wait. What are you saying?” Danny glanced between them, “What? No. No… you have to be kidding me. I’m just me. I was trying to help, not-“

“Child, your soul was always going to be tied to the zone one way or another.” Pandora said, “Mortality is already a fragile thing, but someone so surrounded by ectoplasm at a young age all while experiencing the struggles you did with your parents absence… it was inevitable that you would be a powerful ghost.”

“But, then, Great One.” Frostbite continued, “You stood fully emerged in the space between worlds and thought of protection and forgiveness — mercy. You did not even consider vengeance or desires of your own. Only the wellbeing of others. It is an act of great sacrifice and not one many can complete so fully.”

“To put it simply, Danny.” Pandora said, “You’re one of us, Juna Protenco. New and young power that will grow infinitely. Though you are far from ancient, you will be with time.”

“An ancient to be.” Danny said distantly.

“The Ancient of Protection, Space, Mercy, and Matter.” Clockwork turned into his newborn form, “The best candidate for king we’ve had in a long time. Though, perhaps I am a bit biased.”

“Does it have something to do with space-time?” Danny guessed, “Because Matter, Time, and Space…”

“Correct.” Clockwork smirked, “Matter tells spacetime how to curve, and curved spacetime tells matter how to move. I guide you and you make changes that I will use to guide you again.”

Dannu blinked, “Oh. I get it.”

“You do?” Pandora blinked.

“That’s domains for you.” Frostbite chuckled and then quickly explained when Danny gave him a confused look, “We all innately understand our domains and their meanings. My domain is progression, society, and advancement.”

“Mine is responsibility, hope, protection, and perseverance.” Pandora revealed.

“Indeed.” Clockwork transformed into the middle aged man again, “But now that you know of your future, we must prepare.” He put his hand on Danny’s shoulder, “Your coronation must happen by the time you turn eighteen. As Ghost King, you will need to learn some diplomatic skills. We will teach you while you finish your human schooling.” Clockwork promised, “You can tell your parents the truth or you can say you are simply leaving for college, but Maddie and Jack Fenton cannot move to the Zone with you. Your sister is welcome. Your friends are welcome, but unfortunately…”

“I understand.” Danny lowered his head, “I don’t think I’ll tell them just yet. Maybe I’ll leave a note or a video, but…”

Clockwork’s eyes glazed over briefly — clearly checking the timeline.

“That is a good idea.” Clockwork nodded.

“Okay.” Danny swallowed, “I can’t -”

“No.” Clockwork said, “Honored as these two would be, they have their duties and people. They cannot. I am both bound by the Observants and a little too prone to acts of selfishness. It is too much power for me. No. It must be you.”

“You’re not selfish. You helped me.” Danny tilted his head, confused.

Clockwork chuckled guiltily as Pandora made a face and Frostbite shifted awkwardly.

“There is a reason people fear me, Danny.” Clockwork seemed more amused than anything by the sudden awkwardness, “I appreciate your trust in me, but I was not so good or kind in life. I hold domain over regret and retribution as well as time. It is a position I earned after giving and getting both in equal measure. I am not a protective spirit by nature. I am one that seeks justice and sometimes revenge.”

“I don’t get it.” Danny frowned, confused.

“Soon, you will.” Clockwork said grimly, “But for now… Trust me when I say all is as it should be.”

“Okay.” Danny said, “I trust you.”

“Now, time in.” Clockwork said. When Danny tried to give him the medallion he shook his head, “No, hold onto it. I believe it goes without saying, but do not lose it.”

“I know. I won’t.” Danny promised.

“Good, now… I believe you have some friends to talk to?”

“Er, right!” Danny said and rushed off.

“He doesn’t know who you are?” Frostbite turned to Clockwork, “And you haven’t told him?”

“… He’ll learn during his studies.” Clockwork admitted begrudgingly, “And it’s best that he come to me after he processes the information than during.”

“Just remember, Kronos.” Pandora glared as she handed over her medallion, “One wrong move-“

“Yes, yes, I am very aware of your opinions of me, Keeper of Hope.” Clockwork held a hand to Frostbite, “Shall I take you back to your people?”

“Er, yes.”

“Good, then-“

“Hey! I was not finished-“

“TIME OUT!”

Pandora sighed as they disappeared, “Ugh. He is always such a petty menace. One of these days…”

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