The moon sees your soul

@luck-crowned caught Luna in some holiday romance

Although Adolin cannot visit Tenebrae as often as she has been to visit Urithiru, he has been with her in her gardens enough times to listen to her explain the details, meanings, and origins of each flower type she has come to plant there over the years. So many walks they have been on, so many picnics beneath the trees, so many times gardening together, and now he tells her which kinds mean what (though he still struggles with the origins, but that’s alright; he’s trying, and it means more to her than she can put words to).

A dusting of winter snow coats the petals of the flowers now, though the wind is still, the air clear, and besides the soft crunch of their footsteps on fresh snow, there is little disturbing the scene around them. It’s beautiful, quiet, and Luna exhales a soft sigh of content, her breath forming small puffs of clouds in the air before her. She has never much loved extended periods of cold, but she does wish, if the cold were to be here, it could bring with it more snow than this. (She remembers playing in the snow with Ravus when they were children, and the memory is warm, fond, even as it makes her heart ache.)

Their steps take them beneath a trellis lined with various vines and flowers peppered with small berries, and Adolin stops, slipping his fingers between Luna’s and pulling her gently to a stop beside him. Curious, she looks at him - up, because she is in flat shoes so as not to slip in her heels - and watches him a moment. He seems to be contemplating, eyes moving from the sky to the trellis before settling back on her, an almost mischievous smirk she has come to recognize pulling at his lips.

“Thought of something, have y-” She is cut off when he slips his other hand around her waist and leans down to catch her in a kiss. He is always warm, and his hand and lips warm her skin, and though the kiss is unexpected, she raises gloved hands to hold his face between them and return the kiss. After a moment, he pulls away and looks up at a plant above them.

“That’s the one people kiss under, right?” he asks, turning his head back to her, grin in place. “Mistletoe?”

☾ - ♕ - ☽ How strange it is that Luna’s heart beats so quickly in her chest at there mere invitation to meet him for lunch and a stroll through Urithiru’s gardens. She has long thought herself incapable of feeling such emotion; after years of being a slave to unhealthy emotions bred through years of captivity, feeling this fluttering in her stomach and pounding in her rib cage feels both exhilarating and terrifying. Is it selfish to feel this way? To like feeling this way? Does it even matter anymore now that their war is won and Luna has no destiny any longer?

This train of thought is not new to her, yet she does not want to think on it now, when she is deciding what to wear. A runner brought the invitation to her since Adolin has meetings in the morning, so she responded with a ‘yes’ while mildly panicking with excitement over the prospect of lunch with him. 

Of course, she tries not to let the elation get the better of her. He is but a few months a bachelor, still hurting, and he is surely not interested in pursuing another just yet, and probably not a foreign queen who is still learning of his people, his kingdom, his country and its history. She is an outsider, and he has so many partners to find here that know and understand far better than she does - or possibly ever will. And while those thoughts are not the most pleasant, they at least sober her enough to remember that she is not a giddy schoolgirl in Tenebrae, but a queen with a diplomatic treaty with Adolin and his people.

And yet...as she approaches the meeting place he’d mentioned in his invite, she feels her heart beating a bit harder again. She hopes she doesn’t look flushed, that her smile is natural and polite. Her life has been spent learning how to control her emotions and not let them show on her face, and though old habits come into play and she wears a carefully crafted expression, she cannot help the way her smile lifts just a touch higher, nor how her eyes light up just a bit more when she sees him.

“Adolin,” she says with an incline of her head as she reaches him. She wears a pale blue dress with simple white embroidery, a white glove on her left hand; her hair is half pulled back into an elegant knot at the back of her head and adorned with beads, while the rest hangs around her shoulders and down her back. It is a simple design, considering the rest of her wardrobe, yet it is comfortable and not too over-the-top for what he has planned.

—  || ♜♛

She steps forward to follow the sure grip her has on her wrist, and his attention is momentarily diverted by the way the slight raising of her chin shows off the way the light of nearby spherelamps gleams against her throat, diamond light tinted ever-so-slightly with sapphire turning her pale skin into a vision of moonlight. He bites the inside of his lower lip; his lips tingle with the memory of being pressed against her pulse-point and the desire to do so now.

Instead, he grins, broad enough to keep that particular lust at bay until they are beyond the sight of anyone prying. “Careful with that thought! Hauling me off over your shoulder… hah, those that aren’t already scandalized by this display I’d have to hold back from throwing themselves at your feet - or into your arms, as it were.” The cheeky glint in his eye does nothing to dampen the heavy-lidded heat that smoulders there as well — from the sound of what she’s saying, and from the echoes of pressure where her fingers were just pressing into his back through his coat, Luna is in a mood where picking one another off the floor might be the least of the rough handling tonight.

The fit of his trousers grows more uncomfortable at that thought, and oh, it is a good thing they’re already on their way back to their rooms, because what little chance he had before of hiding his desire is all but gone now. The pad of his thumb brushes back and forth over her wrist, firm strokes that press into the flesh, and he lets up enough that his hand slips down to slot over hers, relishing in the feel of her fingers instinctually curling around his.

“Your dress is safe for now, though not for any thought of making excuses to get it fixed.” They’ve both accidentally torn clothing before, forgetting strength in their haste to see the clothes off of one another, so it is not as empty a jibe as some might think it. Lips parting, he looks Luna up and down as if considering it anyway, gaze lingering on the long, sensuous glimpse of her leg through the slit in her dress before lifting back up to meet her eyes.

“I promise that you’ll be the only thing I ruin tonight.”

☾ - ♕ - ☽ The coolness of the air does little to calm the heat growing beneath her skin, cools her face just enough to keep her from flushing too deeply as they walk, keeps her gaze focused on her steps and not on the ever prominent bulge growing in the front of Adolin’s uniform trousers. She sees it, her gaze brief before darting back up to his face, and she wonders what it is he’s thinking about, what he’s craving, what she can do to tantalize him further. (She knows anything she does will push those boundaries.)

A laugh escapes her, husky in her throat and doing little to hide her desire. “You have told me before that many would throw themselves at my feet for my prowess, and yet I’ve seen no other, save yourself, do any such thing.” Her smile curls into something mischievous, her eyes glinting, and in truth, there is no other she wants but him. They both know it.

His fingers leave her skin tingling in their wake as he slips his hand into hers, fingers twining together, and her mind shifts to the feel of those hands slipping through her hand as his mouth presses against her pulse in her neck, her navel, her thighs. They are mere steps from their room, yet they still feel too far, and her fingers tighten around his as she moves a touch quicker, pushing their door open, pulling him in alongside her, and locking it behind her. Guards approach down the hallway from their station at the end of the hall to take up watch outside their door, and she is grateful for how thick the doors are, even if she is also sure that it doesn’t entirely muffle the room’s occupants.

They both have mere moments after the click of the lock before Luna places her hands against Adolin’s chest, standing on her toes to catch him in a kiss, fierce with pent up longing from even just the last few minutes of him teasing her so in the hallway. She pushes him slow steps into the room, feels the hunger in how he kisses her back, in how his hands begin to grip her, but she pulls back, steps away from him, breathless and wanting, but forcing herself into control. She takes three steps away, chest rising and falling with slightly labored breaths, and storms she wants him, wants to pop those buttons off, tear at the seams, and strip him before her.

In time.

@livelyfellow​ asked:

Okay, okay, a very serious headcanon for Luna -- describe her perfume. Does she use different kinds depending on her day or is there a signature scent?

Luna usually wears a very subtle scent, something you generally need to be close to her to be able to smell. She’s been raised to be up on her hygiene, so she takes care to make sure she isn’t offensive in look or smell, and up until falling into the depths of war, she did keep up with it consistently.

During those ten years of war, when she went back to Tenebrae and offered safe haven to people in need, while also fighting against beasts and the Empire alike, she didn’t have the time to make herself as presentable. She was far more concerned about the safety and well-being of her people and what was left of her kingdom, and in becoming a soldier to fight alongside others.

Before and after that time, though, she would wear something very neutral, like vanilla or a general and soft floral scent. She does have several other perfumes she wears (even being under Empire control, she was still a public figure, and beauty companies would send her their makeups, perfumes, nail polishes, etc.), sometimes just a different floral scent, sometimes something as simple as ‘fresh laundry’ or ‘summer breeze’, but she does often find herself drawn to slightly more...salty? scents, or coconut. Scents that remind her of summer and the beach, ocean waves on a warm day. It feels lighter, like happier times, or like something to aspire towards.

Yes, eventually Jim returns to her despite getting lost in an Ikea for several years and somehow developing amnesia but once he’s back, they are together 4evr 5evr 3000.

@misplacedheroics​ asked:

Sorry, I have no headcanon questions for Luna but I DO want to know how Lena is doing raising Typo Duck all on her own since deadbeat Jim hasn't been around. Something about going to the store for wine and just never came back. :/

@luck-crowned has affection for his wife, and we are weak for it

It has been since sunrise that Luna has seen Adolin, the events of the day prying them apart and pulling them in opposite directions as their duties see fit. Adolin has been to oversee the soldiers’ training, undoubtedly getting his own in as well; he is never one to sit still, especially when it comes to the battlefield - or a sparring ring. It runs deep in the thrum of his veins, his Calling, and he is often found taking advantage of what moments he can to practice.

Luna, though, has been to meetings. She isn’t the engineer that Navani is, nor is she the historian that Jasnah is (her history of Roshar is still developing, though she knows far more now than she had before), yet her political mind has found use in their courts. And negotiating between Princedoms can be exhausting at times. Even if most of them have joined together, the imbalance between them still brings strife, and it is a lifetime of practice that allows Luna to not openly sigh or reflect any sort of emotion while assisting with these talks.

It is with heavy eyelids and tired limbs that the two find their way back to their room. Adolin is marked by sweat and dirt, Luna’s pristine makeup has faded, some eyeliner smudged as she had accidentally run a hand over her eye on the way to the bedroom. When they see each other, still in the hallway where anyone could pass them, Adolin wordlessly takes her face in his hands and holds her so gently, and his touch is the renewal she needs. As if the weight of the world has been lifted, she smiles softly, reaching her hands up to rest over his wrists, her own eyes closing as she stands a little higher on her toes, their foreheads meeting in quiet rest.

For long moments, she simply stands with him, listening to him breathing almost in tandem with her. It is peaceful, and Luna forgets for a moment that they are not alone in their room. She doesn’t care, simply caresses her thumbs across the back of his hands. Stoirmean, but she loves him. She feels safe in his hands, and though she wishes desperately to be able to stand here forever and get lost in his warmth, she knows they should move.

@sanguinepeccatorum​ asked:

"I have to ask." he began, drawing in a soft breath; "Why does a lady so elegant and prepossessing as yourself frequent a cafe like this?"

The question catches Luna by surprise, though perhaps it was inevitable that it would one day come up. She cannot venture far from her home, and this cafe is just on the edges of close, yet far enough out that she can usually go unnoticed, unrecognized. A relief, considering the watchful eyes she just barely manages to sneak past when she wishes to leave for a time; they will find her, they always do, but she has enough sense to know when to leave this cafe, this little safe haven, and let them find her elsewhere. Keep this place her own secret.

As well as Vincent. A stranger become, she hopes, a friend.

Carefully, she takes a slow sip of her tea, thinking of how to answer his question. She has not made a habit of lying, even to her enemies, and she wouldn’t dream of starting now. Yet how to speak of her situation without entirely giving herself away? A tricky question. Still, she settles for what honesty she can.