Within some violent and cold mountains
Some sweet and red fruits are growing
In the somber yet quite divine gardens
Dark-blooded they are and walking
So close to them slipped
A once sinless serpent
A lady of hungers
And took those sweets
Thoughtless
So she's drunk dead of those poisons
And for her he'll be long waiting
Surely not in heavens
But in the shores of his harboring
Breathless and dizzy and witlessly out of mind I am from the awing and most delightful company of @expertmakodriver that was shared with me so generously!
Endless thank you's, seas of love's, millenniums of adoration for you<з
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You said I was allowed to request it!!!!!!! I want Tyla/Freya/Tristan!!!! Whatever you want!!! However dark you want!!!! Good end or bad end or medium end!!! Up to you!!! I'm just thirsty after that snippet with Tristan putting Tyla in a muzzle.
I couldn't decide so you get multiple versions
Version 1: Cuck Tristan
Contrary to popular belief, Tristan is not unreasonable. His centuries of pursuing his fiance were not "desperate" nor "ridiculous". He'd simply been requesting she uphold the deal her father had agreed to centuries ago.
He'd been very patient, all things considered, in waiting so long and not simply taking her by force (which he had several opportunities to do so).
He'd waited, and he'd been rewarded when she came crying and begging for his help, spinning a tale of her uncle's betrayal and her father's demise. It wasn't the most happy circumstances for a wedding, but it was a contract fulfilled and that was all Tristan had asked for.
But, of course, Freya was not so easily pleased. She wanted her father found faster, she wanted Klaus' death to be more painful, she couldn't make up her mind on if she wanted Elijah dead as well..... It was all rather exhausting.
Tristan couldn't make his witches work faster, nor could he capture two Original vampires at a speed that she desired. But, there was one complaint he would indulge her whims in.
Tyla Lockwood had showed up in their chambers one day. She was rude, low class, and didn't seem to want to actual be there. Freya had spun a story about her own plans to kill Klaus that she changed her mind on - something about turning blood into poison, Tristan hadn't followed much of her logic - and now Tyla was "their" responsibility.
He'd disagreed, of course, but she'd found a solid argument.
"You've failed me as a husband. Not one night of our marriage have you brought me suitable pleasure. If you're going to insist on this farce of a union, I insist on enjoying it."
Tristan was not an unreasonable man. If his wife was unhappy, he would indulge her whims where he could.
Besides, he thought to himself as he watched Tyla bury her face between Freya's thighs, it makes for a very nice show.
Version 2: Attic Wives
Freya hadn't left their room in over a week. Tyla was fairly certain the only reason she'd eaten at all was that she'd brought the blood in for her.
She understood it, of course. Elijah and Klaus, who she had been trying to trust again because of Hope, had gone behind her back and arranged a deal. Freya's hand in marriage in exchange for Rebekah's safe return home.
Always and forever indeed.
On top of that, Freya had been forced to make another deal for Tyla's life. She could wear iron bracelets, cutting her off from using magic, or Tristan would've served her Tyla's heard on a silver platter.
If she hadn't been wearing a muzzle during those "negotiations", Tyla would've begged her not to do it. But part of her wonders if she would've listened.
"I could bite him," Tyla murmured, gently rubbing Freya's back while they laid in bed.
"The rest of them would kill you."
"I can bite more of them."
"There's too many for you to fight."
Tyla kissed her neck. "Not if you break those bracelets off."
"I can't," she whispered. "Not without the Sisters. And they won't go against the Strix."
She turned over and buried her face in Tyla's neck. "I can't get us out of this," she whispered. "I-I'm sorry I-"
Tyla kissed her softly. "Don't. It's not your fault."
"But-"
"Hey, we'll figure it out. We always do, remember?"
During the Second Era of Tamriel, as the Planemeld ravaged Nirn, a Daughter of Coldharbour was slain and reclaimed by Molag Bal; in her image, Bal forged an avatar of his will from the chaotic creatia of his realm and imbued it with his own power. Emerging from the cold soulfires of Oblivion, the soul-consuming daedric being known as Freyla was born.
The God of Schemes unleashed his powerful new creation upon the world in accordance with a plan known only to him. Instead of championing her father's mission to conquer Tamriel, however, Freyla would instead thwart it — a move likely anticipated by the Prince of Domination — and thus began a chaotic campaign to conquer any invaders of the mortal realm.
Freyla maintains a complicated yet mutually respectful relationship with her creator, who she both serves and defies of her own volition, and carries little regard for mortal lives outside of her own entertainment. During her time wandering the cosmos, Freyla has occasionally demonstrated some capacity for compassion and even loyalty, particularly for her closest companions; however, she can be quite sadistic and selfish, attributes which are exemplary of a childe of Molag Bal.
Freyla's true motivations are not entirely known to her allies, though most would agree that she is not driven by altruistic virtues. Perhaps, given her nature, she is simply inclined towards conflict and chaos — or, perhaps, with every choice that she makes, she furthers schemes of her own.
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