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shanastoryteller · 8 months

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Happy holidays! Dealers choice?

a continuation of 1

The young Lord de Bois returns with the same uptight lord as before and a young dark skinned man who’s grinning like this is the funniest thing he’s ever seen. They disappear into the blacksmith’s home along with several other men and Mrs. Cole, who’s husband’s been dead for thirty years and who apparently remembers a time two lords past when things were handled differently.

They don’t emerge for the rest of the day, candles bright in the cracks of the shutters to show that they’re working through the night. It’s almost noon the next morning when the village assembles to hear what’s been decided

Merlin still isn’t allowed to look, but he sneaks glances anyway. He wishes he could get a better look at Lord de Bois, but there are several people in his way, almost deliberately keeping him from view. He wonders what his mother promised them to get them to do that.

“My father,” Lord de Bois sighs, “has decided that if I’m old enough to complain about how things are handled then I’m old enough to handle them myself. Ealdor is now under my purview and authority, which means we’re going to have to turn a profit here if it kills me.”

Great. How does he expect to do that here? He might as well just execute people now if he’s planning on starving them slowly. He’d seemed to know better, before, but now that it’s his neck on the line he’s apparently a lot less sympathetic.

“And it might,” says a new voice, probably the dark skinned man Lord de Bois has brought along.

“Shut up, Elyan,” Lord de Bois says, just for a moment reminding Merlin that they’re nearly the same age. “We’ve worked up a new plan for mining for ore and replanting the fields – the soil’s exhausted and it’s all too far from the river. We’re going to have to set up an irrigation system as well.”

They know that. They’ve always known that. It’s just that there’s nothing to be done about when the time lost to start again would mean they lose out on a whole season of crops, since the ground is too cold to do much of anything in the winter and they don’t have the people do any of that and get food in and out of the ground.

There’s stirrings of discontent and it’s Will, of course, who shouts, “Who’s going to be doing all that? We need to eat ourselves, not waste time feeding you too!”

“You little,” hisses the lord from before and there’s again the sound of a sword being drawn.

“Enough, Gregory,” Lord se Bois snaps before addressing them. “Unfortunately, I am now required to put my money where my mouth is. I’ll be covering your taxes this year to the king and providing grain to make up for the lost food while we work out these changes. Your debt now is not to the king, but to me. I’ll be coming back frequently to check on your progress.”

Merlin pinches himself, sure he’s dreaming. Who does this? It’s crazy. It’s ridiculous.

It might actually work.

“You can’t just let them take and get nothing in return,” Gregory says angrily. “Don’t be stupid about this.”

“Too late for that,” Elyan says. “Why don’t you take someone to work at the castle? Their wages can be put to the town’s debt.”

Lord de Bois sighs. “Why would I take someone useful from here when I’m trying to get all this done?”

“Take someone useless, then,” Elyan suggests.

Oh no.

“Alright then. Who here is useless?” he calls out, clearly mocking.

Merlin’s ears burn as he feels the weight of far too many people’s gazes. It’s not his fault! His magic just makes things – complicated.

“Wow,” Lord de Bois says, laughter running through his voice. “Move aside then. Show me this useless person.”

His mother tenses at his side as people shift and then Merlin is staring down at a pair leather boots that are probably worth more than everything he’s ever touched combined.

“Who’re you, then?”

He’s not supposed to move or speak or look at anyone, but surely his mother can’t expect him to ignore a lord. “Merlin.”

“Look at me when I’m speaking to you, Merlin.” He snaps his head up and is immediately caught up in the brightest blue eyes he’s ever seen. “Are you useless?”

His face burns and he shrugs.

“He’s young, my lord,” his mother says carefully, and Merlin can’t help but feel guilty over the way her voice wavers.

Lord de Bois’s face softens. “You’re his mother, then?”

She dips into a curtsy. “Hunith, if it pleases my lord.”

“Hunith,” he says, “don’t worry. He’ll be fine at the castle. Being my servant isn’t that difficult.”

His what?

“Your servant?” Gregory sputters. “Every time your uncle assigns you one, you fire them for incompetence!”

“Well,” Lord de Bois says, “then he’ll at least be in good company.”

Elyan walks over and claps Merlin in the arm hard enough that he stumbles. “Good luck.”

Lord de Bois rolls his eyes and Merlin considers how his he should really be careful what he wishes for.

He’s going to get plenty of chances to look at Lord de Bois, apparently.

His mother lectures him over and over again about keeping his magic to himself, about how they’ll try and control him and abuse him and turn it into something terrible and dangerous if they know what he can do. He really can’t do much of anything, but he nods and agrees and lets her kiss his face.

They don’t have a horse to spare, so he rides with Elyan. Gregory takes the lead, angrily muttering to himself the whole time and Elyan leans over and whispers to Lord de Bois, “We could just make him walk back. He might run out of steam by then.”

“We’re not going to get that lucky,” he sighs.

The ride is shorter than Merlin had feared, which is good because he’s not used to riding. They enter the city just after nightfall and they pull the gates open as soon as they catch sigh of them. Several people brighten and wave when they see Elyan and Lord de Bois, although they duck away from Gregory.

There’s an actual castle. Merlin is being taken to a real castle. It feels fake and he’s walking inside one.

“ARTHUR!” a high pitched, childish voice yells out as the sound of small feet come running.

“Excuse me, my lord,” Gregory says, beating a hasty retreat.

“Is he running from a little girl?” Merlin asks, too surprised to keep silent like he’s supposed to.

“She doesn’t put up with him like we do,” Elyan answers.

What?

“Arthur! You’re back!” shouts a girl who can’t be older than six with brown eyes and curly brown hair.

Lord de Bois scoops her up in his arms. “I told you I would be.”

“You lie,” she says promptly, wrapping her arms around his neck. Merlin finds himself pinned by her narrowed eyes and understands Gregory a little better. “Who’s this?”

Lord de Bois – Arthur, apparently, since now there’s more than one Lord de Bois to keep track of – says, “This is Merlin. He’s going to be my servant. Merlin, this is my cousin, Amabel de Bois.”

Before Merlin can figure out how to greet a child lady, she says, “Hi Merlin. I’m a witch.”

Uh.

Arthur rolls his eyes. “Stop telling people that.” Merlin relaxes. “You’re going to be a sorceress, but only if you study very hard and listen to your mother. You don’t think she became a high priestess without listening to her tutors, do you?”

Merlin tries very hard to not make any sort of expression at all.

“Yes,” Amabel says promptly.

Arthur makes a face. “Well, maybe, I wouldn’t put it past her, but you have to listen. You haven’t even stabbed any of them with a sword, I don’t know why you’re going through so many.”

“She lit the last one on fire,” Elyan says. “Honestly, between the two of you it’s a shock that any of them are willing to step foot in the castle.”

He shrugs. “Well, my aunt and uncle are very scary. Dad’s not, but that’s what he has them for.”

This is so much worse than he’d feared. Keeping his magic a secret among a bunch of nobles was going to be bad enough, but a high priestess? And a kid training to be a sorceress?

Merlin has no idea what he’s gotten himself into.

#prompt answers #prompts are closed #asks #girl-reading2 #merlin

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fr0stf4ll · 1 month

Text

Forge of Starlight - Part 5

paring; Azriel x reader

summary; In the heart of Velaris, a skilled blacksmith's quiet life is turned upside down when unexpected bonds begin to form with the enigmatic Spymaster of the Night Court. As she navigates the challenges of her craft and the complexities of newfound relationships, she discovers that love and loyalty may be the strongest forces of all in a world where darkness often lingers just beyond the light.

word count ; 7k

warning; /

notes; Ok I might have wrote a lot for this chapter but you will understand why hihihi. Nothing much to say beside that things are finally starting to move and that I love reading your comments ! bisous bisous and see you tomorrowwwww //>_<//

here is the link for part 4 or part 6

---

After a long journey back from the Winter Court, you finally arrived home in Velaris, feeling the familiar warmth and comfort of your surroundings. The shop was quiet when you walked in, a stark contrast to the chilly winds of the Winter Court that still lingered on your skin. As you stepped through the door, you were immediately greeted by the sight of Alex, his face lighting up with excitement as he spotted you.

“Nana! You’re back!” he exclaimed, bounding over to you with all the energy of a child who had been waiting far too long.

You chuckled, bending down to ruffle his hair. “I’m back, Alex. And I brought you something.”

His eyes widened in anticipation, his curiosity piqued. “What is it? What is it?”

You reached into your bag and pulled out a small, intricately carved ice-blue crystal that glimmered like a frozen star. It was set on a sturdy leather cord, perfect for a young boy to wear without worrying about breaking it. “This is a special charm from the Winter Court. They say it brings good luck and keeps you warm even in the coldest of nights.”

Alex’s face lit up as he took the crystal, holding it up to the light. “Wow, it’s so cool! Thank you, Nana! I’m going to wear it all the time!” He slipped the cord over his head, the crystal resting against his chest as he puffed up with pride.

You smiled at his enthusiasm, feeling a warmth that had nothing to do with the charm. “I’m glad you like it. But remember, it’s not just for show—it’s supposed to keep you safe.”

Alex nodded solemnly, though the mischievous glint in his eyes told you he was already planning on showing it off to anyone who would listen. “I’ll take good care of it, promise. Oh, and guess what? I scared off this really annoying customer while you were gone! Cassian and Azriel showed up and everything.”

You laughed, picturing the scene in your mind. “Did you now? I bet they were impressed.”

“They were!” Alex said, puffing out his chest. “Cassian said I handled it like a pro, and Azriel… well, he didn’t say much, but he nodded. That’s good, right?”

You chuckled, giving him a quick hug. “That’s very good, Alex. You did well.”

But as much as you enjoyed catching up with him, the exhaustion from your journey was catching up with you even faster. You stifled a yawn, feeling your eyelids grow heavier by the second. “Listen, Alex, I’m going to go get some rest. I’m dead tired after the trip.”

“Okay, Nana,” he said, still beaming. “I’ll be quiet. You go get some sleep.”

You gave him a grateful smile, ruffling his hair one last time before heading upstairs. The moment your head hit the pillow, you were out like a light, the weariness of the journey pulling you into a deep, dreamless sleep.

When you finally awoke, it was well into the afternoon. The sunlight streaming through the window bathed your room in a soft, golden light, but your hair was a wild mess from your slumber, and you felt like you were still half-asleep as you went to the kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea.

With a steaming cup of tea in hand, you made your way to the living room, still in your sleep clothes—an oversized shirt and comfortable pants—when you heard a knock at the door. You barely had time to react before Alex’s voice called out, “Nana, it’s Azriel! I let him in!”

Sure enough, Azriel stepped into the living room just as you were sinking into a chair, your messy hair and bleary eyes greeting him.

“Azriel,” you said, giving him a small smile as you tried to smooth down your wild hair. “No problem, Alex did well, but it seems like you have a habit of catching me in my sleeping clothes. At least this time, you came through the door and not by winnowing into my bedroom.”

Azriel chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he took in your disheveled state. “I’m learning to respect boundaries,” he replied, though the slight teasing in his tone didn’t go unnoticed.

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, shaking your head as you gestured to the kettle. “Would you like a cup of tea?”

“Sure,” he said, moving to take a seat across from you. “Tea sounds good.”

You busied yourself with making his tea, and soon enough, you were both sitting in the warm, sunlit living room, sipping from your cups as a comfortable silence settled between you.

“So,” Azriel began after a moment, “how was the Winter Court?”

You took a sip of your tea, thinking back to the icy beauty of Kallias’s realm. “It was cold,” you said with a chuckle, “but beautiful in its own way. Kallias and Viviane were wonderful hosts. The weapon I made for Kallias… well, he seemed pleased with it.”

Azriel nodded, his gaze thoughtful. “I’m glad to hear it. The Winter Court has always been a place of harsh beauty, but it sounds like you handled everything well.”

You smiled softly, appreciating his concern. “It was a good trip. But I have to admit, it’s nice to be back home.”

Azriel’s gaze softened slightly, and there was a warmth in his eyes that made your heart flutter. “We’re glad to have you back,” he said quietly.

There was a brief pause before Azriel cleared his throat, setting his cup down on the table. “I actually came by for another reason. Rhysand wanted me to let you and Alex know that you’re both invited to dinner at the townhouse tonight. We’d all love to catch up.”

You raised an eyebrow, surprised but pleased by the invitation. “Dinner at the townhouse? Sounds like fun. I’ll let Alex know. He’ll be excited.”

Azriel’s lips quirked into a smile. “I’m sure he will be. It’ll be good to have everyone together again.”

You nodded, already looking forward to the evening. “Thank you for letting us know, Azriel. We’ll be there.”

As Azriel stood to leave, he paused, his gaze lingering on you for just a moment longer than usual. “Get some more rest if you can. You’ve earned it.”

You smiled, touched by the concern in his voice. “I will. And thank you… for everything.”

With a final nod, Azriel turned and made his way to the door, leaving you alone in the quiet of your living room. You couldn’t help but feel a sense of warmth and contentment as you finished your tea, the thought of tonight’s dinner bringing a smile to your lips.

After all, it wasn’t every day that you were invited to dine with the Inner Circle, and you had a feeling that tonight would be a night to remember.

——

You stood in front of the grand door of the townhouse, the familiar dark wood gleaming under the soft light of the evening. Your heart was beating a little faster than usual, a mix of nerves and excitement swirling in your chest. It wasn’t every day you were invited to dine with the Inner Circle, and despite your usual confidence, there was something about this gathering that made you feel… different.

Beside you, however, Alex was anything but anxious. He was practically bouncing on his toes, his wide eyes taking in the grandeur of the townhouse. His excitement was infectious, and despite your nerves, you couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm.

You glanced down at him, your mind drifting back to the moment earlier when you had told him about the invitation.

---

It was just after Azriel had left, and you were sitting in the living room, still holding your empty tea cup. Alex came bounding into the room, Stellan trotting lazily behind him, his large paws thudding softly against the floor.

“Nana! What was that about?” Alex asked, his curiosity piqued as usual.

You grinned at him, setting your cup down on the table. “Azriel stopped by to let us know that we’ve been invited to dinner at the townhouse tonight.”

Alex’s eyes widened, and for a moment, he just stood there, as if trying to process what you had said. “The townhouse? Like, with Rhysand and everyone?”

You nodded, chuckling at his reaction. “Yes, with Rhysand, Azriel, Cassian, and the other members I guess”

Alex’s face lit up with excitement, and in his eagerness, he nearly tripped over Stellan, who gave a low, disgruntled growl as he narrowly avoided getting stepped on.

“Sorry, Stellan!” Alex said quickly, regaining his balance. “But did you hear that, Nana? Dinner with the Inner Circle! This is going to be awesome!”

You laughed, shaking your head as Alex started rambling on about what he should wear and how he should act. “Calm down, Alex. It’s just dinner. No need to get too worked up.”

But your words had little effect. Alex was too far gone in his excitement, and he spent the next hour racing around the house, nearly knocking over a vase, tripping over his own feet, and even trying to get Stellan to look “presentable,” much to the wolf’s annoyance.

---

Standing in front of the townhouse door, you couldn’t help but smile at the memory. Alex was now practically vibrating with excitement, his earlier antics leaving you more amused than nervous.

“Okay, okay, calm down,” you said, placing a hand on his shoulder to steady him as he fidgeted. “Just remember to be polite and—”

Before you could finish your sentence, the door swung open, revealing Cassian with a wide grin on his face.

“Well, look who’s here!” he boomed, his voice warm and welcoming. “Come on in, we’ve been waiting for you!”

You barely had time to react before Cassian was ushering you both inside, his large hand resting on Alex’s shoulder as he guided you through the threshold.

As you stepped into the living room, you were greeted by the sight of the entire Inner Circle gathered around, the room filled with warmth and laughter. Rhysand was lounging on a plush chair, a glass of wine in hand, while Mor was perched on the arm of the couch, chatting animatedly with Amren. Azriel stood off to the side, his usual calm demeanor in place, but his eyes softened as they met yours.

“Y/N, Alexander,” Rhysand greeted with a charming smile, raising his glass slightly. “Welcome.”

You returned the smile, feeling your nerves slowly dissipate as you greeted everyone. “Thank you for having us.”

Alex, however, was utterly mesmerized by Mor. He had stopped in his tracks, his eyes wide as he took in her beauty. Without missing a beat, he stepped forward, taking her hand in his own and giving her a gallant bow.

“My lady,” he said, his voice as smooth as he could make it, “you are even more beautiful than I imagined.”

There was a moment of stunned silence before the entire room burst into laughter. Mor, clearly amused, played along, giving Alex a warm smile as she allowed him to kiss the back of her hand.

“Wow, thank you, kind sir,” she replied with a wink, clearly delighted by his antics.

Alex’s face turned bright red, but he grinned up at her, clearly pleased with himself.

Cassian doubled over with laughter, clapping a hand on Alex’s back. “I like this kid! You’ve got style, Alex!”

But before Alex could bask in his moment of glory, Amren’s sharp voice cut through the room. “And what about me, little one? Aren’t you going to greet me?”

Alex froze, his eyes darting to the tiny but fierce figure of Amren. She was standing with her arms crossed, a small smirk playing on her lips as she eyed him expectantly.

Alex gulped, all his bravado suddenly vanishing. “Uh… h-hello, Lady Amren,” he stammered, taking a nervous step back.

Amren’s smirk widened, clearly enjoying the effect she had on him. “Hmm. You’ll do.”

The room erupted into laughter again, and Alex, still blushing furiously, shot you a look that said, “Help me.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, giving him a reassuring pat on the back. “You’re doing great, Alex.”

Azriel, who had been watching the exchange with a small smile, stepped forward, giving Alex a nod. “Don’t worry. Amren’s all bark and no bite. Mostly.”

Alex relaxed a little at that, though he still kept a wary eye on Amren, who had taken her seat and was now sipping from her glass with an amused look on her face.

Rhysand gestured to the seats around the large table. “Come, sit. Dinner’s ready, and we’ve got plenty to talk about.”

As you and Alex took your seats, you felt a sense of ease settle over you. The warmth of the room, the laughter, and the feeling of being among friends—it was all exactly what you needed after your time away. And as you caught Azriel’s eye from across the table, you couldn’t help but feel a flutter of anticipation for what the rest of the evening might bring.

As everyone settled around the table, the warmth of the fire and the delicious aroma of the food made the room feel cozy and inviting. You could feel the tension from earlier dissipating as you found yourself surrounded by friends, their easy laughter and conversation helping you relax. Alex was seated next to you, his eyes wide with excitement as he took in the lively atmosphere.

Once everyone had their plates filled, Rhysand leaned back in his chair, his gaze settling on you with a curious smile. “So, Y/N, how was the Winter Court? I’m sure Kallias and Viviane were eager to see what you crafted for them.”

You nodded, taking a sip of your wine before answering. “It was cold, as expected, but beautiful. Kallias and Viviane were wonderful hosts, and they seemed very pleased with the glaive I made for Kallias. The Winter Court is breathtaking in its own way, with all the ice and snow—it’s like stepping into another world.”

Rhysand nodded thoughtfully. “I can imagine. The Winter Court has always had that otherworldly charm, though I’m sure it must have been a stark contrast to Velaris.”

“It was,” you agreed, smiling. “But it was a good trip, and I’m glad I went.”

Mor, who had been listening intently, leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “You’ve traveled to so many courts, Y/N. I’ve always wanted to know—what was your favorite one to visit?”

You paused, thinking back to your many travels. “That’s a tough question. Each court has its own unique beauty and charm. But if I had to choose… I think the Dawn Court was my favorite. The way the sun rises there, casting everything in a golden light, it’s magical. And the architecture—delicate, intricate, almost ethereal. It was like walking through a dream.”

Mor sighed wistfully, clearly picturing it in her mind. “The Dawn Court is beautiful. I haven’t been there in ages. What about the Night Court? How does Velaris compare?”

You smiled softly, glancing around the room. “Velaris is home. No matter where I’ve been, I always find myself drawn back here. There’s something about the city—the warmth, the beauty, the people—that makes it special. It’s not just a place; it’s a feeling.”

Rhysand smiled at that, clearly pleased with your answer. “Well said. Velaris has that effect on all of us.”

Cassian, who had been busy demolishing his plate of food, leaned in with a grin. “Alright, we’ve heard about your favorite court. What about the one you liked the least?”

You didn’t hesitate. “The Spring Court.”

The table erupted in laughter, everyone instantly amused by your quick and blunt response. Even Rhysand, who often maintained a composed demeanor, chuckled.

Cassian grinned broadly, clearly enjoying the reaction. “The Spring Court? Why? Did you have some kind of swordsmanship beef with them?”

You shook your head, chuckling at his choice of words. “Not exactly swordsmanship beef… more like I have beef with the High Lord of the Spring Court himself.”

The room quieted slightly as everyone leaned in, eager to hear more. Rhysand’s brow arched in curiosity. “Beef with Tamlin? Now, this I have to hear.”

You rolled your eyes slightly, a smile tugging at your lips. “Let’s just say that Tamlin and I didn’t exactly see eye to eye. I was there to forge a ceremonial blade for one of his events. Everything was going well until he decided to lecture me on how to make it ‘more powerful.’”

Cassian snorted, already seeing where the story was going. “Tamlin, giving advice on blacksmithing? This I’ve got to hear.”

You grinned, shaking your head. “Exactly. He had some… interesting ideas about how I should ‘channel the strength of the land’ into the blade. He went on and on about how it needed to be more ‘earthy’ and ‘connected to the spring’s essence.’ I tried to explain that I knew what I was doing, but he wouldn’t let up. Finally, I got fed up and told him that if he wanted an ‘earthy’ blade, he could make it himself.”

The table burst into laughter again, the image of you standing up to Tamlin clearly entertaining everyone.

Mor giggled, leaning closer. “Did he actually try to make the blade?”

You smirked. “He tried. And let’s just say that the results were… less than impressive. I may or may not have offered him some pointers in the end, which he didn’t appreciate.”

Rhysand chuckled, shaking his head. “That sounds like Tamlin, alright. Always trying to meddle in things he doesn’t fully understand.”

Azriel, who had been quietly listening, allowed a small smile to tug at his lips. “I’m surprised he didn’t throw a tantrum.”

You shrugged, taking another sip of your wine. “Oh, he was close. But I think he knew better than to push me any further. After that, I decided it was best to finish the job and leave as quickly as possible.”

Cassian grinned, raising his glass in a mock toast. “Here’s to Y/N, the one person who managed to put Tamlin in his place.”

Everyone laughed and raised their glasses in agreement, and you couldn’t help but feel a warmth in your chest at being included in their camaraderie.

As the night wore on and the conversation continued to flow, you found yourself completely at ease, surrounded by the warmth and laughter of the Inner Circle. The food was delicious, the wine plentiful, and the stories shared around the table were as entertaining as they were revealing. It was in moments like these that you truly appreciated the bond that had formed between all of you—a sense of camaraderie that went beyond mere friendship.

After Cassian finished recounting a particularly wild adventure he’d had with Mor and Azriel during a mission in the Summer Court, Rhysand turned to you, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“You’ve had your fair share of adventures too, Y/N. Surely you must have some good stories from your travels. Care to share one?”

You smiled, leaning back in your chair as you thought about the many escapades you’d experienced over the years. There were so many to choose from, but one in particular stood out—an adventure that was as ridiculous as it was memorable.

“Well,” you began, a playful grin spreading across your face, “there was that time when I was about 20 years old, and I almost ended up married to a complete stranger.”

The room went silent for a moment, and then everyone burst into laughter, clearly intrigued by the absurdity of the statement.

“Wait, what?” Cassian asked, his eyes wide with amusement. “You almost got married to a random guy? How in the Mother’s name did that happen?”

You chuckled, shaking your head at the memory. “It was a classic case of ‘wrong place at the wrong time.’ I was traveling alone, exploring some of the lesser-known parts of Prythian, when I got hopelessly lost in a dense forest. I had no idea where I was, and night was falling fast. I must have wandered around for hours when I stumbled upon this small village that wasn’t on any map.”

Rhysand leaned forward, clearly entertained. “Go on.”

“So, I’m exhausted, hungry, and completely disoriented,” you continued, “and I’m thinking, ‘Great, I’ll just find a place to stay for the night and figure things out in the morning.’ Well, as soon as I entered the village, everyone started acting… strange. They were all really friendly—too friendly. The next thing I know, they’re ushering me into this big feast, feeding me, giving me wine, and treating me like some kind of honored guest.”

Mor giggled, already seeing where this was going. “Oh no… you didn’t realize what was happening, did you?”

You shook your head, laughing at your younger self. “Not a clue. I was just enjoying the hospitality and thinking how lucky I was to have found such a welcoming place. But then, out of nowhere, this guy—the village leader, I think—stands up and declares that I’ve been ‘chosen by the spirits’ to be his son’s bride.”

The room erupted into laughter, and Alex, who had been listening intently, nearly choked on his drink. “You’re kidding! They just decided you were getting married?”

“Just like that,” you confirmed, grinning. “And here I am, completely blindsided, trying to figure out how I went from being lost in the woods to being engaged to a stranger. The son wasn’t even that bad looking, but I wasn’t exactly in the market for a husband, especially not one chosen for me by ‘spirits’ I’d never met.”

Cassian was practically doubled over with laughter. “What did you do? Did you just go along with it?”

“Not exactly,” you said, still chuckling at the absurdity of it all. “I tried to explain that there had been a mistake, that I wasn’t interested in marriage, but they weren’t having it. They kept saying it was ‘fate’ and that the spirits had spoken. So, in a moment of desperation, I pretended to get really drunk—like, completely wasted—and started acting as obnoxious as possible. I figured if I made myself seem like a terrible bride, they’d reconsider.”

Azriel, who had been listening with a rare, amused smile, tilted his head. “Did it work?”

You nodded, grinning. “Oh, it worked. They were horrified. The groom’s father eventually took me aside and, very politely, told me that perhaps the spirits had made a mistake after all. They sent me on my way the next morning with enough food and supplies to last a month, just to make sure I didn’t come back.”

The room exploded into laughter, everyone clearly enjoying the image of you drunkenly sabotaging your own wedding.

As the laughter and lighthearted stories began to die down, the mood around the table shifted to something more contemplative. Plates were being cleared, and everyone was settling in with their drinks, the warm glow of the fire casting flickering shadows across the room. You could feel the shift in energy, and it wasn’t long before Amren, ever the perceptive one, spoke up.

“So, Y/N,” Amren began, her voice calm but with an edge of curiosity that immediately drew everyone’s attention. “You’ve shown us some impressive abilities lately, particularly that blue flame of yours. Care to share a bit more about where it comes from?”

The room went quiet, all eyes turning to you. You took a deep breath, knowing this moment would come eventually. It wasn’t that you wanted to keep secrets, but the nature of your power was complex and not something you often spoke about openly.

You met Amren’s gaze, taking a moment to gather your thoughts. “The blue flame… it’s not something I was born with. It came to me when I was younger, during one of my travels. I made a… pact, of sorts, with a being that fell from the sky. It granted me certain abilities in exchange for something that I wasn’t entirely aware of at the time.”

Rhysand, ever the curious one, leaned forward slightly. “What kind of abilities?”

You nodded, knowing it was time to explain at least the basics. “The blue flame you’ve seen is primarily a healing power. It’s incredibly potent and can mend wounds that most healers would consider impossible. But it’s not just for healing; I can also wield it in combat. The flame can burn through almost anything, though it doesn’t behave like ordinary fire. It’s… selective, in a way. It burns only what I intend it to.”

Azriel’s gaze was steady, his interest clear. “And the other abilities?”

You hesitated for a moment, choosing your words carefully. “I have the ability to see cursed beings and objects, to sense the malevolence within them. It’s as if the curse leaves a mark, something visible only to me. I can cleanse those curses, though it requires a lot of energy and sometimes comes with a cost.”

Mor’s eyes widened slightly. “That’s… incredible, Y/N. Those aren’t just ordinary powers.”

You nodded, grateful for her understanding. “They’re not. And they’re not without their risks. Every time I use them, I feel the strain. It’s like the flame is both a gift and a burden.”

Amren studied you for a long moment, her gaze sharp as if she was trying to see beyond your words. “And this being you made a pact with… it left a mark on you, didn’t it? Something more than just the powers.”

Before you could answer, Alex, who had been quiet during most of the conversation, suddenly piped up, his voice filled with the innocence of youth but also a deep familiarity with your abilities. “Did they see you as a phoenix ?”

The room fell into a stunned silence, and you felt your heart skip a beat. You turned to Alex, your eyes wide in surprise, and saw the realization dawn on his face that he had said too much.

Alex’s eyes went wide with panic, and he quickly tried to backtrack, his words tumbling over each other. “I mean, not a real phoenix, of course! I just meant, like, you know… the fire and all that… it’s kinda like a phoenix, right? My mistake everyone.”

The entire table was now focused intently on you, the weight of Alex’s slip-up hanging in the air. Rhysand’s gaze was sharp, though not unkind, and you could tell he was processing this new piece of information. Azriel’s expression had turned thoughtful, and even Cassian, who was usually quick to joke, remained silent, his brow furrowed in curiosity.

You took a deep breath, realizing there was no point in denying it now. You turned back to the group, your voice steady but with a seriousness that hadn’t been there before. “The being that granted me these powers… it referred to me as a phoenix, yes. It’s not just because of the fire, but because of the nature of my abilities. The flame, the healing, the ability to rise from near-death… it’s all tied to that essence.”

Amren’s eyes narrowed slightly, her gaze almost piercing. “A phoenix is a creature of rebirth, of cycles. Does that mean…?”

You nodded slowly, understanding what she was hinting at. “It means that, in a sense, I’m not the one in control of my life, it’s length at least. The pact I made altered me in ways that I’m still trying to fully understand. The flame, the healing… they’re all manifestations of that change. But with that power comes a responsibility, and it’s not something I take lightly.”

Rhysand leaned back in his chair, his expression contemplative. “A phoenix… that’s a rare and powerful being. It’s no wonder your abilities are so unique.”

Alex, still looking a bit guilty for his slip-up, glanced around the table before looking up at you with wide eyes. “I’m sorry,… I didn’t mean to say too much.”

You smiled gently at him, reaching out to ruffle his hair. “It’s alright, Alex. They were going to find out eventually. Better now than later.”

Cassian, who had been silent for a while, finally spoke up, a small grin tugging at his lips. “So, let me get this straight—you’ve got the power of a phoenix, and you can heal, burn through anything, and spot curses? Remind me not to get on your bad side, Y/N.”

The tension in the room eased slightly at his words, and you couldn’t help but chuckle. “I wouldn’t worry too much, Cassian. You’re safe… for now.”

The group shared a light laugh, and though the mood had shifted to something more serious, there was still a sense of camaraderie. They now knew more about you—about the weight you carried and the powers you wielded—but they accepted it without judgment.

As the conversation gradually moved on to other topics, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief. The truth was out, at least partially, and while there was still much more to your story, you knew that you didn’t have to carry it all alone.

As the evening wore on, the laughter and conversation gradually shifted to a more relaxed, mellow pace. The plates had been cleared away, and everyone had moved from the dining table to the plush couches that circled the warm fire. You found yourself sitting comfortably, a cup of tea in hand, with Alex nestled in your lap. His earlier excitement had finally worn off, and now he was sound asleep, his small body curled against you, breathing softly.

The atmosphere was cozy, with the soft glow of the fire casting a warm light over the room. The conversations had turned quieter, more reflective, as everyone settled into the comfort of the late hour. You listened to the gentle murmur of voices around you, feeling a deep sense of contentment. Despite the weighty discussion from earlier, there was a feeling of peace in the room, a shared understanding that brought you even closer to these people who had become your family.

Rhysand was seated nearby, sipping his tea with a serene expression, while Mor and Cassian exchanged stories, their voices low but filled with the familiar warmth of friendship. Amren, ever the enigma, sat quietly, her gaze occasionally drifting over to you with a thoughtful expression, though she said nothing more about your earlier revelations.

Azriel, who had taken a seat near the fireplace, watched you with a gentle intensity that made your heart flutter slightly. His eyes lingered on Alex, who was now completely lost to the world, his head resting comfortably against your shoulder. There was something in Azriel’s gaze that made you feel… protected, as if he were silently vowing to keep you and Alex safe.

As the night grew even later, the conversations began to dwindle, and you realized it was time to head home. Gently, you adjusted Alex in your lap, careful not to wake him as you prepared to stand.

“I think it’s time we head back,” you said softly, glancing around the room with a smile. “Thank you all for a wonderful evening.”

Rhysand nodded, a kind smile on his lips. “It was our pleasure, Y/N. I’m glad you could join us tonight.”

Mor leaned over to give you a quick hug, careful not to disturb Alex. “It was really nice meeting you Y/N, you need to come by more often. It’s more fun with you around.”

Cassian grinned, raising his teacup in a mock toast. “And bring more stories! I need more material to laugh about.”

You chuckled, feeling the warmth of their affection. “I’ll see what I can do.”

As you carefully stood, holding Alex securely in your arms, Azriel rose from his seat as well. He moved quietly, but his presence was immediately reassuring. “Let me walk you home,” he offered, his voice low and sincere.

You looked up at him, the offer surprising you only slightly, though it was a pleasant surprise. “Thank you, Azriel. I’d appreciate that.”

With a final round of goodbyes, you carefully made your way to the door, Azriel by your side.

As you both stepped out into the cool night air, the city of Velaris lay in peaceful silence. The streets were bathed in the gentle glow of the moon, casting a soft light on the cobblestone paths. The quiet hum of the city at rest felt soothing, and for a moment, you simply walked in comfortable silence, the weight of Alex in your arms a gentle reminder of the long day.

Azriel walked beside you, his presence a steady, reassuring warmth in the cool night. His wings were tucked close to his back, and his steps were as quiet as a shadow’s. Every now and then, you caught him glancing at you and Alex, a softness in his gaze that made your heart flutter.

As you reached the quieter part of the city, where the streets were lined with blooming night-blooming flowers and the sounds of the Sidra river murmured in the distance, Azriel finally spoke, his voice low and sincere. “Thank you for sharing your story tonight, Y/N. I know it wasn’t easy, especially with everything you’ve been through.”

You turned to look at him, his profile illuminated by the soft moonlight. There was a depth in his eyes, a genuine concern that made you feel seen in a way you hadn’t before. “Thank you for listening, Azriel,” you said, your voice just as soft. “It means a lot to me that you were all there, that you… understand.”

He nodded, his gaze flickering down to Alex, who was still peacefully asleep in your arms. “You’re not alone, Y/N. We’re here for you, whatever comes next. And you don’t have to carry this burden on your own.”

His words were simple, but they carried a weight that settled deep in your heart. The idea of not being alone, of having someone to share the burden with, was something you hadn’t allowed yourself to fully believe until now.

You smiled softly, feeling a warmth spread through you. “It’s been a long time since I’ve felt like I could rely on others. I’m used to handling things on my own. But tonight… tonight made me realize that maybe I don’t have to be so alone anymore.”

Azriel’s eyes met yours, and in the silence that followed, there was an unspoken understanding between you. A connection that went beyond words. He reached out slowly, his hand brushing against your arm, the touch gentle and tentative, as if he were afraid to break the moment.

“You don’t,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “You don’t have to be alone, Y/N. Not with us. Not with me.”

Your breath caught slightly at the tenderness in his voice, and for a moment, the world seemed to narrow down to just the two of you, standing under the stars. There was something in his eyes—something warm, something that made your heart skip a beat. It was as if he were trying to convey everything he felt in that single glance, everything he couldn’t put into words.

“Azriel…” you began, your voice soft, almost hesitant. But before you could continue, he stepped closer, his hand now fully resting on your arm, his touch both reassuring and electrifying.

“I mean it,” he said, his voice steady despite the emotion you could hear beneath it. “You’re not alone. And if you ever need anything—anything at all—I’ll be there. I promise you that.”

His words wrapped around you like a protective blanket, and for the first time in a long while, you felt completely safe. Not just physically, but emotionally, as if you could let your guard down and not worry about the consequences.

“Thank you, Azriel,” you whispered, your voice catching slightly. “I… I don’t think I’ve ever had someone say that to me. Not like this.”

He gave you a small, almost shy smile, something that seemed so out of place for the stoic spymaster but at the same time, so perfectly him. “Then I’ll say it as many times as you need to hear it.”

You couldn’t help but return his smile, your heart swelling with an emotion you hadn’t expected to feel. “You’re making it very hard for me to stay independent, you know.”

He chuckled softly, the sound low and warm. “Maybe it’s time you let someone in. Maybe it’s time you let me in.”

The weight of his words hung in the air between you, and for a moment, you were lost in the intensity of his gaze, in the promise of something more. Something that scared you and excited you all at once.

“I think… I think I could do that,” you said finally, your voice steady but laced with the vulnerability you were allowing yourself to feel.

Azriel’s hand slid down your arm to gently take your hand, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. “I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. You can count on that.”

Before you knew it, you had arrived at your door, the night seeming to have passed in the blink of an eye. You stopped in front of your home, reluctant to let the moment end.

Azriel looked down at Alex, who was still asleep in your arms, and then back at you. “Let me help you get him inside.”

You nodded, touched by his thoughtfulness. Together, you carefully brought Alex into the house, Azriel holding the door open for you as you made your way to Alex's room. Once he was tucked in, you both returned to the front door, where the night air greeted you once more.

Standing in the doorway, you turned to Azriel, your heart full. “Thank you, Azriel. For everything.”

He gave you that soft, sincere smile again, his eyes lingering on yours. “Anytime, Y/N. I meant what I said. You’re not alone.”

Azriel stood there, his gaze steady and warm as he looked at you. The moonlight cast a soft glow over his features, highlighting the quiet strength that seemed to radiate from him. For a moment, the two of you stood in comfortable silence, the world around you fading into the background.

After a few beats, Azriel cleared his throat, his voice low but with a hint of something more, something almost… hopeful. “Y/N, I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

You raised an eyebrow, curious. “What is it?”

Azriel shifted slightly, his wings rustling as he seemed to gather his thoughts. “Would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow night? Just the two of us.”

The question caught you off guard, but in the best possible way. You felt a warmth spread through your chest, your heart skipping a beat at the unexpected invitation. A smile tugged at your lips as you looked up at him, trying to gauge if he was serious.

“Dinner?” you asked, a playful lilt in your voice. “Is this an official mission, or are you asking me on a real date?”

Azriel’s lips curved into a rare, genuine smile, and you could see a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “No missions, no work. Just a real date, if you’re interested.”

You couldn’t help the blush that rose to your cheeks, the thought of spending a quiet evening alone with Azriel sending a thrill of excitement through you. “I’d love that, Azriel. Dinner sounds perfect.”

The smile on his face widened just a fraction, but the emotion in his eyes spoke volumes. “Great. I’ll pick you up at sunset.”

You nodded, feeling a mix of anticipation and warmth. “I’m looking forward to it.”

There was a pause, the air between you charged with something unspoken, something that didn’t need words to be understood. Finally, he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead—a gesture so tender, it nearly took your breath away.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice a soft caress.

“Goodnight, Azriel,” you whispered back, feeling a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the cool night air.

As he stepped back and began to turn away, you watched him go, a small smile playing on your lips. And as you closed the door behind you, you couldn’t help but feel that something had shifted between you—that perhaps, in the quiet of the night, a new chapter had begun.

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rhaenerystargaryen · 1 month

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I love your Daemon works and I love some angst too. Would you be willing to write a continuation to "Can't scape me" where Daemon meets the girl from his past again and she's unmarried, but trained like Arya Stark and became wealthy and famous in Essos and Dorne because of her prowess and instead of being sad she's like "Wow, I dodged a bullet. Could've ended up as a sad little wife in King's Landing while my husband partied with prostitutes, but instead I'm independent and happy." I would love to see Daemon's reaction to that, especially if she refuses to fight for team Black or team Green because she knows it's suicide and just goes her merry way and watches house Targaryen implode while eating dates on her Essossi villa 😅. Feel free to ignore it if it's too specific I just love Daemon, but also love to kick him a bit too much 😅.

i escaped you (can't escape me pt. 2)

pairing: daemon targaryen x fem!reader

synopsis: daemon comes to you after the events of harrenhal, seeking help.

warnings: angst, cussing/adult language, mentions of sexual relations

wc: 1,018

a/n: gagged daemon fr

part 1 here

it had been a long time since you'd seen daemon targaryen. heard of though is a different story. rumors spread like wildfire so of course you'd heard about how his life seemed to be going to shit. first wife dead, second also dead, and third might soon join them if she didn't play her cards right. people like daemon seem to bring suffer wherever they go but you've come a long way from the orphaned girl of king's landing that once was his.

at seventeen you boarded a ship to essos and never looked back. after your failed marriage to daemon you refused to live that kind of life with anyone in king's landing. having no family to care where you went and did, no one seemed to notice your disappearance. thinking about what your life could have been used to pain you. now you realize that most of the girls who were once like you are miserable and resentful as they married lords who would rather frequent the whore house than warm their own bed.

essos had served you good the first couple of years. of course you had to work twice as hard to prove your worth as a woman but with the help of an older gentleman who had taken you in, the art of swordsmanship became your most outstanding feature. it all started when he caught you stealing.

you didn't realize that when you actually did land in essos you'd have to learn how to make a life for yourself. stealing seemed like the easiest option but you were grateful the blacksmith that caught you also didn't cut off your hand. yet after his passing, you realized there was nothing left to do but go and show off your talent.

travels were made through pentos, dorne, and braavos competing in local tourneys and building a name for yourself. you had earned yourself the name "the cruel dread" as you were merciless and often left your opponents begging for their life. it was safe to say that the life you had created was better than the one that could've been.

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it was a cloudly day in pentos. an odd occurrence from the constant rays of sunshine that frequented the skies. you sat on your balcony, eating dates, and reading the latest news of westeros. suddenly a knock came crashing down on your door, disrupting your peace.

you set your book down and approached the door. upon arrival you opened it only to be met with your most trusted knight, ser quincy.

"my lady," he spoke.

"what may be the problem, ser quincy?" your arms crossed and eyebrows raised exuded the fact that you were annoyed at his disruption.

"you have a vistor."

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

as you walked down the steps of your villa, you recognized the familiar face waiting for you.

"my lady, i present to you king consort daemon tar-" you were quick to cut quincy off.

"i know who he is," you stood eyeing daemon then turned to your knights, "you may be excused," but daemon's did not budge, "you too," you urged them.

"i'll be alright, go on," he told his knights.

as they left the room, no words were spoken between the two of you. how dare daemon show up in your house after everything that had gone down since then?

"y/n-"

"what is it that you could possibly want?" you cut him off.

"y/n, i just want to say how sorry i am for how things went down last time i saw you. i never meant to hurt you," daemon moved closer to you.

"you are twenty years too late, daemon. i have moved on with my life as have you. there is no need to come all the way here and issue me a formal apology," your voice firm unlike his.

"if i could but request your time, i have something would like to discuss with you,"

you scoffed and looked away, "you are not welcome here, daemon. i know exactly what is it is you're going to ask me for and my answer is no," you started to walk away but he rushed to block your path.

"daemon-" his hands gripped your arms in an attempt to get you to look at him.

"why are you so quick to reject me? i have not forgotten the love we used to have for each other..." his voice was calmer, softer than before.

"keyword is 'used to' daemon," you sighed, "look, i don't know what you have roped yourself into this time but my answer remains," you looked into his eyes.

"is this because of rhaenyra?" he asked.

you knew that this was his attempt in trying to rile you up. scoffing you pushed his arms off you, "this has nothing to do with rhaenyra, daemon but this has everything to do with you."

"you've become quite the skilled warrior, y/n...why not put those efforts into some real exercise instead of bullshit tourneys!" he yelled.

"because daemon! when you left, those tourneys were all i had! to make a name for myself!" your chest heaved as his attempt to push you over the edge finally worked, "you have no idea what its like...to lose everything...to lose everyone. at least when you return back to dragonstone you'll have your wife and your children," you had tears in your waterline and daemon tried stepping closer to console you but you merely pushed him away.

"we could have had that, y/n..." he spoke quietly.

"but we didn't," you wiped your tears, "now you must leave before i call my knights. i don't want unnecessary bloodshed," you spoke.

daemon's face showed pure agony. did he really think things would be this easy? he might have been feeling disappointed but he made you this way. knowing he'll probably go back and tell everyone how the most skilled fighter in essos was just a "heartless cunt" angered you but if you were to show it then he'd be served right. the only thing you could do was sit back, and watch house targaryen burn.

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