#ethari x reader

Everyday felt like it was getting a little harder to walk, you could usually push the feeling off to the side and ignore the growing ache that weighed you down, but you should have learnt by now that that weight would inevitably become unbearable.

You really did try your best to delay what was bound to happen, though. You didn't want to bare witness to the fall that would be your mood, and you didn't want to wonder when the next time you were going to feel okay was going to be. Hell, you might even end up feeling 'okay', you might just end up being less than worse, you might up just being less than 'decent' and that was going to have to be the best you could be just so you could function.

You did try, you really did your hardest to delay it, you wanted that to be known, even if it was just to yourself.

You knew you were going to find yourself laying in bed all day, eyes blurry with unshed tears, and bones too heavy to move. It was like you were stuck in your own little prison, a body that was too broken to move but nobody could see that that body was broken.

You found yourself staring at your ceiling for an hour to long, but it was enough to make you wonder how much time had really passed from when you first started staring at the blank nature of it.

You should get up, get something to eat or drink, but you couldn't find it in yourself to do even that. What was the point? You weren't going to get anything out of it, and you couldn't find the energy to get out of bed, let alone make yourself a meal. So, of course, you opted to stay where you were, comfortably wrapped up in your covers as you laid on your side, eyes deciding to stare at the blank wall instead of the blank ceiling. Riveting.

You didn’t know how much time passed, really only basing how long it felt from the last time you moved, which wasn’t very often. You didn’t care though because, really, what was the point? Why would you care? You weren’t doing anything, you weren’t bothering anyone with your sour mood, you weren’t getting in anyone’s way, you weren’t being a problem.

You were tucked away in your home, in your own corner of your home, comfortable.

“<<Reader>>?” You heard eventually, and you almost felt the way your heart sunk in your chest.

Ethari.

You sighed quietly, finding no energy to talk to him, and pulled your covers up higher, wishing you could just sink into them completely.

You heard his footsteps grow closer and closer, until you heard the slow creak of your door as he opened it. You practically felt the way he moved cautiously through your dark room, but you didn’t move. Perhaps if you didn’t move, he would think you were asleep and leave you be.

“<<Reader>>?” Nevermind.

When you moved the covers away you saw Ethari crouched down in front of your bed, just about level with where you head was laying. His expression softened when he saw your face, eyes clouded with concern and you wondered how bad you really looked.

“Are you unwell?” He asked carefully, a hand reaching out to rest on your forehead, trying to feel for a fever.

“No.” You muttered quietly, you knew better to lie to Ethari, even if it was a little white lie such as not feeling well (you used to think it was the best way to get people to stop questioning you, but Ethari had shown you wrong).

His hand found your hair, brushing away your locks and he exhaled slowly. He didn't say anything at first, attempting to keep a comforting presence for you while he sussed out what version of comfort you needed in this moment.

This was not the first time Ethari had seen you like this, and every time he was there for your darker moments he always had to alter the way he would come about whatever issue you were facing. Sometimes you needed a physical presence to ground you, sometimes you needed advice and someone to lean on so you could get out of slump, and sometimes you just needed someone to tell you it was going to be okay.

In truth, you didn't know what you needed this time, so you wondered how Ethari was going to end up being able to help you.

"Have you eaten?" He asked gently, his golden brown eyes unmoving from yours.

You didn't verbally respond, but you shook your head slowly.

He exhaled again, lips forming a tight line as his eyebrows knitted together. "I will make you something."

You shook your head, muttering something about 'not wanting anything' that Ethari could barely make out.

"Oh, <<Reader>>," He tutted faintly, but his tone was far from annoyed, "I know that you haven't eaten all day, let me make you something. You don't have to eat it all, but I do want you to take, at least, one bite."

“I won’t be able to argue, will I?” You asked, there was a hint of humour in your voice, but Ethari didn’t even spare you a smile.

“No.”

You let out a little groan and that, and Ethari didn’t waste anytime to go and get you something. He disappeared from your view, and you didn't try and crane your head to see through the doorway, you just stayed staring in front of you as if he was still crouched down in front of you.

You didn't count the minutes he was gone, but it felt like he took a while to come back to you. He returned with a little plate and buttered toast, it wasn't a lot but he knew you well enough to know that you weren't going to finish this, let alone start a bigger meal.

"Eat." He commanded, but there was very little sternness in his tone, as he held the plate out towards you.

You glanced down at the plate, then up at him, narrowed eyes meeting his before you slowly sat up in bed, hands braced behind you as your crossed your legs. You took the plate with a hand once you were settled again, plating it in your lap before you picked it up and took a single bite. When you looked up at Ethari, he looked happy enough, but motioned with his hand for you to keep going.

"You said one bite." You complained.

He chuckled faintly, nodding along. "I suppose I did, but now I am saying have two bites."

You shot him a glare and brought the toast to your mouth again, biting into it, but taking a smaller bite than before. He didn't argue for another one, and took the plate when you looked to be done with it, placing it on your bedside table just in case you would go back to it (even though he knew it was unlikely).

When he looked at you again, his gaze held that softness that made you want to cover yourself in your sheets again, you couldn't deal with the sympathetic looks the other Elves gave you.

"What?" You asked with a sigh.

"Have you...?" He trailed off, not wanting to say it aloud knowing that it was a touchy subject, so he just vaguely motioned with his hand towards your arms. "Recently?"

You huffed out, you weren't sure what would be worse: him asking outright if you had hurt yourself, or him just dancing around the topic. Maybe just both of them annoyed you.

"No, I haven't." You hissed out, but the look he gave you told you that he was far from convinced, you didn't help it with how rude your tone was, so you softened it. "I... thought about it, but I didn't. Promise."

Ethari sighed faintly, and his four fingered hand rested on your knee. "There is no need to promise, I can take your word for it."

There was a beat of silence, his eyes moved away from yours and he found somewhere else in your room to look t while you simply stared down at your lap. You felt like you should have said something, fill the silence with some sort of nonsense like you would any other day, but you fell short with conversation topics.

Ethari didn't mind, of course, he had seen you in all sorts of different moods and state and this was not the worse he had seen you, silence had nothing on him. He did not leave your side, however, even when the two of you were sat in silence for however long, he did not leave and made no indications of wanting to leave.

You didn't mind the company for once.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Ethari Masterlist

Ethari attempted to focus on the task at hand, the tools and weapons atop his desk never seemed so far from him. It felt as though he was staring at a puzzle he was no longer capable of understanding, but he did his best to keep himself occupied when the silence of the house threatened to consume.

Is this grief? Or is this the new normal?

Where you used to find comfort in Ethari, he could only ever reach you when the books were far from your grasp. A cycle of three titles, meticulously memorizing each page because it reminded you of Runaan. The nights when you would stay up with Runaan when the nightmares were too much, and you would read to him until he lulled off to sleep.

Neither really said a word, silent and long days until the time came to crawl into bed. Only then, arms around each other and duvets tightly enveloping both forms—did the tears freely flow. Did the pain finally mount and the length of the universe seemed to weigh heavy on you both.

However, by the time morning breaks, the silence returns and the image of a sunken flower haunts your vision. Ethari closes his eyes, adjusting himself and returns his gaze to his work. Only something catches his eye, a glimpse—nothing short of a miracle, one that causes his expression to falter.

Rayla...

Unable to turn for a moment, he pauses before walking out the door. Knowing that she would follow, unable to break your heart anymore than it has been already.

"Rayla. Before you left, I told Runaan that you were to goodhearted for the work of an assassin. Y/N told him too." He pauses, glancing into the reflection once more. "So I know you did not betray them out of malice. But that doesn't matter. They're gone. He's gone. Because you abandoned them." His words are harsh, not loud, but there is a sharpness as he recalls your cries from the night before.

Even when she disappeared from the reflection, Ethari was already back inside of the home. You had not moved from your position, and for a moment, Ethari wishes you could have seen her. Known she was alright, even if she cannot come home.

He exhales deeply, gathering what he needs before leaving once more to find her. "This will only break the spell for a moment, but I couldn't bear to let you leave without seeing you one last time." Ethari had to know, to hear her out, and find some comfort in her words. "But I don't understand, Rayla. How could you abandon them?"

She looked the same, different and more worn in others, but he saw her as she was. "I failed them. it was my fault we were discovered, btu I didn't run away." She pauses. "Ethari, we found something. Callum, show him."

"Oh uh..." Ethari turns his attention to the human, smiling a little. "I'm Rayla's earthblood elf friend. Trees to meet you."

"Trees to meet you, too."

"Don't humor him. We found the dragon prince."

"The egg wasn't destroyed."

"And I knew that if we could get him home to his mother, there could be peace."

"It's a miracle. I can't believe it." Ethari's eyes darken, recalling the letter he received from Ibis not too long ago. "But, Rayla, you need to know. The Dragon Queen is dying. Since the death of her mate, she's fallen very ill."

"We have to get to her. It's the only way." Ethari pauses, as he watches Rayla's eyes trail to the home. "Where is Y/N? Can I see them?" Looking through the window to spot you, to catch your gaze.

Rayla is struck by confusion at your still form—you were never that still. Never so quiet. Her eyes wander the way you seem awake, locked in on the book and every so often she’d catch Ethari glance over with concern.

Ethari watches Rayla, as she looks at you—“When we met Y/N, they were deeply wounded by abandonment. Alone and on the cusp of giving up.” His eyes are sad, she notes how he casts you loving glances in between the concern. “Runaan is dead. You exiled. Something in them finally snapped.”

“Will they ever be the same?”

“No Rayla. I don’t think that they will, they might recover, but Y/N has faced great losses…More than most, it’s why they loved you so dear. Because you’ve lost a lot too.”

Ethari whistles: "You can ride faster than you can walk. I'll see a message to the Dragon Queen. If she knows her little one still lives, perhaps she'll hold on."

"Ethari, can I ever come home again?"

"I don't know." His eyes are sad, he knows the devastation you felt when the rumors spread. When the word shifted to call Rayla a betrayer and to ghost her. You fought against it, but soon even you could not fight the thought. Consider the possibility that there might have been some truth to the village's words. "It's a real moon opal..." He holds it out to her. "When I gave its match to Runaan, I told him, "My love will be with you even when the moon is not."

Rayla looks through the window once more and then back at Ethari: "Good bye, Rayla."

Ethari came into the home with a purpose as he gathered another arrow, preparing it to be fired and for the first time since, you looked up at him. Eyes wandering to the message, to the way he seemed certain.

Something in the way he moved, it reminded you of who he once was. "What are you doing?" He meets your eyes, seeing the whole universe fall together in a dance as you rise to your feet.

"I have found us hope." Still, even now, he is holding onto the hope that he can somehow fix this. Change the way things are and you trust him.

"Runaan, the last time I made you one of these, it carried a message of death. but this arrow will carry a message of life. Regina Draconis!" While you do not understand completely, you understand enough to know that Ethari is still fighting for you. Still fighting for your future, the one you will share together. And you trust him.

Long before you loved Ethari and Runaan, before the turn of the century—eons before written history began. There was you and your brother, Aarravos. It was all you knew, and it was all you thought you needed. Masters of the primal energies—the epitome of Star Touch Elf perfection. There was no beauty like yours, and no power that tasted as sweet as the power you possessed.

However, it was never enough for Aarravos and soon enough, you had lost him completely. Your entire existence seemed to erase itself with his loss, the universe seemed so much smaller. It seemed so much more void. No longer did stars shine for you, and soon enough, you saw only the darkness. A never ending abyss of despair, and confusion. You no longer knew what your purpose was beyond the world you were building with your brother. It meant nothing without someone to share the success with.

You lean into the darkness, you found comfort in the silence—perhaps comfort is the wrong word. You found silence in the darkness, your bottomless pit of despair was less violent and loud. Your wandering felt less aimless when you accepted the loneliness. You were not at peace, but the numbness felt bitterly better than the pain of loss.

The greatest of your sins was never looking for him, for you assumed he had simply left you to your misery. Had finally had enough, and so you left him to his adventures—you imagined he must have left you willingly, no one could against the power you wielded.

Seven centuries, long and painful blistering years, in that time you only heard whispers of your brothers antics. Until you heard nothing at all.

Soon enough the sadness no longer touched you, or perhaps you wore it proudly—you rarely missed the brother that had left you alone. If he cared, he would have taken you with him.

A crest of moonlight breaks over the treetops and reflects off the waterfalls, the crisp blue hue brings a soft smile to your lip. Knelt before the basin, you submerge your palms into the clear water and bring it to your lips. The water is not bitter or heavy with minerals, you finish what is in your palm and remove the canteen from your hip. Using one hand, you pinch the lid and the other you submerge the object and wait for the bubbles to stop.

Crack!, you stiffen—eyes flickering to the left side, someone or something is near. The forest has gone quiet, and it leaves you to think that it is a someone. You hum, shifting your leg out from under you and leaning onto it—knife on your hip, another on your chest and ankle. You cap the canteen and tie it off to your belt, swallowing as you place the final knot. Only to hear the rustling once more.

Trying your best not to move, to hush your body and heighten your senses—your fingers curl tightly around the blade, clutching onto it just as the pair of elves break the clearing. You turn quickly, drawing your weapon and posing it high—“If you’re here to start something, it’s probably best you leave.” Before, with Aarravos, you were the voice of reason—diplomatic and poise, but now it is different. It is just you. Their eyes widen significantly, as startled by you as you are by them.

One is smaller physically, but his hair is much longer—he seems more muscular, less lean. While the other seems to be just as imposing, but not physically—there is knowledge behind those eyes. He is the first one to speak, “You’re a Startouch elf.” You nod, posing your weapon higher. “Fascinating.”

However, when your weapon does not drop it is the other who steps protectively in front of the scholar—his expression less than kind. “Startouch or not, please drop your knife. We never meant you any harm.

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