The Weight of Eternity
⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢 𝖠 𝖳𝗐𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖶𝗈𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖥𝖺𝗇𝖿𝗂𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 ⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢
⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔
Pairing: 𝖬𝖺𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗎𝗌 𝖣𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗂𝖺 𝗑 𝖱𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋
Pronouns: 𝖳𝗁𝖾𝗒/𝖳𝗁𝖾𝗆
POV: 𝖲𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖽 𝖯𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇 ("𝖸𝗈𝗎")
Genre: 𝖠𝗇𝗀𝗌𝗍 𝖫𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝖳𝗈𝗈𝗍𝗁-𝖱𝗈𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖥𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿
Warnings: 𝖲𝖿𝗐, 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗏𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗒, 𝗂𝗌𝗈𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝗈𝖿 𝗅𝗈𝗌𝗌.
Summary: 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖯𝗋𝗂𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝖡𝗋𝗂𝖺𝗋 𝖵𝖺𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗒 𝗂𝗌 𝖺 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝖿 𝗂𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗌𝖾 𝗉𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾. 𝖡𝗎𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗒 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗎𝗆𝖺𝗇 𝗅𝗂𝖿𝖾𝗌𝗉𝖺𝗇 𝖼𝗋𝖺𝗌𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗎𝗉𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗆, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗆 𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝖱𝖺𝗆𝗌𝗁𝖺𝖼𝗄𝗅𝖾 𝖣𝗈𝗋𝗆 𝗉𝖺𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝖾𝗆𝗉𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍. 𝖨𝗍 𝗂𝗌 𝗎𝗉 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁 𝖺 𝖽𝗋𝖺𝗀𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗈 𝗅𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗍. ⋆˚꩜｡
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
The storm over Night Raven College was not a natural one.
You knew the difference by now. A natural storm rolled off the ocean, bringing with it the scent of salt and the heavy, rhythmic drumming of rain against the warped windowpanes of Ramshackle Dorm. But this storm—this tempest tearing through the sky above the campus—smelled of pure ozone and burning leaves. The thunder didn't rumble; it cracked like a whip, and the lightning that flashed across your dark bedroom was a brilliant, terrifying shade of neon green.
It was fae magic. And there was only one fae on campus powerful enough to accidentally alter the weather with his mood.
You pulled the threadbare blanket tighter around your shoulders, your breath curling into a faint white mist in the drafty room. You had been waiting. Ever since the first emerald flash illuminated the peeling wallpaper of your dorm, you knew he would come. He always came to Ramshackle when the world felt too small for him, when the whispering halls of Diasomnia became too suffocating, or when the isolation of being the terrifying, unapproachable Malleus Draconia became too heavy to bear.
A shadow detached itself from the darkest corner of your room.
There was no sound of a door opening, no creak of the ancient floorboards. One moment the room was empty, and the next, he was there.
Malleus stood tall and rigid, his majestic horns brushing the low ceiling of your bedroom. He wasn't in his usual pristine uniform; he wore his dark robes, and they were soaked through, dripping water onto the floor. His pale skin seemed to almost glow in the dim light, but it was his eyes that stole the breath from your lungs. Usually, his slit-pupiled, vibrant green eyes held a quiet curiosity when he looked at you—a soft fondness reserved exclusively for his "Child of Man."
Tonight, those eyes were blown wide, swirling with an ancient, fathomless sorrow.
"Malleus," you whispered, pushing the blankets aside and swinging your legs over the edge of the bed. Your bare feet hit the cold floor, but you didn't care. "What happened? Are you hurt?"
"Do not approach me," he commanded.
His voice, usually a smooth, resonant baritone that sent pleasant shivers down your spine, was sharp. It cracked with a tremor you had never heard before. You froze, your hands hovering in the space between you.
"Malleus?" you asked again, softening your tone, keeping your hands visible. You treated him not like a beast to be tamed, but like a storm that needed to blow itself out. "You're soaked. The storm outside... it’s you, isn't it?"
He closed his eyes, and a jagged fork of green lightning illuminated the window behind him, followed instantly by a deafening crack of thunder that shook the very foundations of Ramshackle.
"I walked through the ruins behind the botanical garden tonight," Malleus began, his voice hollow, as if he were speaking to the shadows rather than to you. "There is a gargoyle there. One I have favored since my arrival at this academy. It has stood for perhaps three hundred years. Carved of solid, unyielding stone."
You nodded slowly, taking a single, cautious step forward. "I know the one. You told me about its craftsmanship."
"Tonight, it crumbled," Malleus said, opening his eyes. The devastation in his gaze was so heavy it felt physical. "A branch fell from an old oak, and the stone shattered. Just like that. Three centuries of existence, wiped away by a fleeting moment of bad fortune."
He looked at his hands—hands that could level mountains, hands that held the weight of the Briar Valley’s future. His long fingers trembled slightly.
"If stone, carved to withstand the ages, can be destroyed in an instant..." He slowly raised his head, his gaze locking onto yours. The raw despair in his eyes made your chest ache. "...then what hope is there for you, Child of Man?"
The question hung in the freezing air of your room. Suddenly, the nature of his distress made agonizing sense. He wasn't mourning the gargoyle. He was mourning you.
"Malleus," you breathed out, your heart breaking for the solitary prince.
"Do you know how long a human life is to one such as I?" Malleus asked, taking a step backward, putting more distance between you, as if being near you would hasten your end. "It is the blink of an eye. A single season. I have coats in my wardrobe older than your entire bloodline. I will blink, and you will grow old. I will turn my head, and you will turn to dust."
He let out a ragged breath, the sound entirely too fragile for a being of his majesty. "I have lived for centuries in isolation. Lilia raised me to be a king, to be an immovable pillar for the Valley of Thorns. I was content in the quiet. I was content to be feared, for fear meant distance, and distance meant safety."
Another step back. His back hit the wall of your bedroom, but he didn't seem to notice.
"And then, you," he whispered, his voice cracking. "You, who did not cower. You, who called me Tsunotaro. You, who invited me to walk with you when the rest of the world pretended I did not exist. You barged into my long, empty life with your bright, fleeting warmth, and I... I allowed it."
"Malleus, please," you pleaded, taking two steps forward. You were close enough to feel the chaotic, crackling magic rolling off him in waves. It made the hairs on your arms stand up, but you weren't afraid. You had never been afraid of him.
"I made a mistake," Malleus said, his voice dropping to a devastated whisper. He looked away from you, staring at the floorboards. "It is a cruel jest of the fates for a dragon to care for a mayfly. When you are gone—when your short, fragile life is extinguished—I will still be here. For centuries. Millennia. I will have to wander the halls of my castle, remembering the sound of your laugh, the warmth of your hands, long after your bones have turned to ash. I cannot bear it. The grief will tear my magic apart. It will destroy me."
He looked back up at you, and the pleading look in the eyes of the future King of the Fae broke you completely. "Tell me to leave. Push me away, [Y/N]. Let me return to the shadows before your roots dig any deeper into my soul."
The silence that followed was suffocating, save for the violent drumming of the rain against the glass. He was waiting for you to reject him. He was begging you to save him from a broken heart he wouldn't experience for decades, entirely willing to sacrifice the present to protect his future.
You took a deep breath, stepping directly into his space.
You didn't yell. You didn't argue. You simply reached out, pressing your warm, human palms flat against the cold, damp fabric of his robes, right over his chest. Beneath your hands, you could feel the frantic, heavy thud of his heart.
Malleus gasped, his entire body going rigid at the contact. "Child of Man, did you not hear me—"
"I heard you," you interrupted, your voice quiet but firmer than stone. You slid your hands up his chest, resting them gently on his broad shoulders. "I heard every word. You’re right, Malleus. I am human. I am fragile. I don't have magic, I don't have scales, and I won't live for a thousand years."
You tilted your head up, forcing him to look into your eyes. "But I am alive now."
He stared down at you, his breath hitching.
"You're so focused on the end of the story that you're ripping out the pages of the chapters we’re in right now," you said softly. Your thumbs rubbed gentle circles against his collarbones, feeling the tension wired tightly through his muscles. "Yes, one day I will be gone. That is the tragedy of being human. But it’s also our greatest strength. Because our time is limited, we love harder. We feel deeper. We don't take centuries for granted, because we don't have them."
"It will hurt," Malleus whispered, sounding less like a prince and more like a lost, lonely child. "When you leave me, the pain will be unbearable."
"I know," you murmured, stepping even closer, until your body was almost flush against his. You wrapped your arms around his torso, burying your face against the damp fabric of his chest. "Grief is the price we pay for love, Malleus. But is avoiding that pain really worth giving up what we have today? Would you really rather go back to being alone?"
Malleus stood frozen for a long, agonizing moment. The storm outside raged on, the wind howling around Ramshackle. He was terrified. For the first time in his long existence, the Great Malleus Draconia was paralyzed by fear.
But then, slowly, hesitantly, he moved.
Large, heavy arms wrapped around you. He pulled you flush against him with a sudden, desperate strength, as if he were trying to shield you from the very concept of time itself. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his cold nose pressing against your warm skin. He let out a long, shuddering sigh, and the sheer relief in the sound made your own eyes prick with tears.
"No," he mumbled against your skin, his voice muffled. "No, I do not wish to be alone again. The centuries before I met you... they feel like dust in my mouth now."
"Then stay," you whispered, reaching one hand up to thread your fingers through his damp, dark hair, carefully avoiding the base of his horns. "Stay with me. Let's not worry about a hundred years from now. Let's just worry about tonight."
As your fingers massaged his scalp, you felt a deep, resonant vibration begin to rumble within his chest. It was a low, rhythmic sound, vibrating against your own body. It took you a moment to realize what it was—he was purring. A deep, draconic purr of absolute comfort and submission.
Outside, the brilliant green flashes of lightning began to fade, shifting back into the natural, golden-white flashes of a regular thunderstorm. The crack of thunder softened into a distant rumble. The magic was settling. His heart was settling.
"You are shivering," Malleus noted softly, pulling back just enough to look at you. His eyes were no longer wild; they were a soft, glowing emerald, filled with an adoration so profound it was almost overwhelming. "My robes are soaked, and I have brought the cold into your sanctuary."
"I'm okay," you smiled, though a slight shiver did run through your frame. "But you need to dry off before you catch a cold. Even powerful fae princes can get the sniffles."
A tiny, genuine smile touched the corners of his lips. "Fae do not get 'the sniffles,' Child of Man. But... I will allow you to tend to me, if it pleases you."
With a wave of his hand, a burst of warm, green sparkles enveloped his body. In an instant, his soaked robes vanished, replaced by his comfortable, dry dorm wear—a soft black shirt and loose trousers. The water that had pooled on the floor evaporated into sweet-smelling mist.
You led him by the hand to the worn, velvet sofa in the corner of your room. You grabbed a thick, dry towel from your dresser and knelt on the cushion beside him as he sat down. Malleus, the heir to the Briar Valley, the most feared mage in Twisted Wonderland, obediently bowed his head so you could dry his hair.
You worked gently, the towel absorbing the lingering dampness from his dark locks. The rhythmic motion seemed to lull him into a state of deep tranquility. The draconic purr returned, a steady, soothing hum that filled the quiet room.
"You are so gentle," Malleus murmured, his eyes half-closed as he leaned into your touch. "It baffles me still. The rest of the world looks at me and sees a monster to be feared, or a weapon to be used. You look at me and see... just me."
"Because you're not a monster," you replied softly, discarding the towel and using your bare fingers to comb his hair back into place. You traced the curve of one of his horns, marveling at the smooth, obsidian-like texture. "You're just Hornton."
He chuckled, a rich, dark sound that warmed your very core. He reached up, capturing your hand in his large one. He brought your knuckles to his lips, pressing a kiss to your skin that was so achingly tender it made your heart skip a beat.
"I am entirely yours," Malleus said, his gaze capturing yours, burning with a quiet, ancient intensity. "For whatever time the fates allow us. I will not squander it fearing the end. I will cherish every sunrise, every rainfall, every quiet moment in this ruined dorm, as long as it is with you."
The heavy weight of the angst that had choked the room minutes ago had completely dissolved, replaced by a thick, suffocatingly sweet warmth.
"Come here," you whispered, shifting on the sofa to open your arms to him.
Malleus didn't hesitate. He laid down, shifting his large frame until he was resting his head in your lap, his long legs stretching out across the rest of the sofa. He wrapped one arm around your waist, pulling you close, while you draped a blanket over his shoulders.
You resumed playing with his hair, your fingertips tracing soothing patterns against his scalp. Malleus sighed, a sound of pure, unadulterated contentment. His eyes drifted shut, the harsh lines of his face softening completely. Here, hidden away in Ramshackle, he wasn't a prince burdened by eternity. He was just a man in love.
"Will you sing for me?" he asked quietly, his voice heavy with impending sleep. "A human song. Something from your world."
You smiled, resting your chin lightly on the top of his head. As the natural rain tapped a gentle lullaby against the window glass, you began to hum a soft melody, the sound mingling with the deep, rumbling purr of the dragon resting in your lap.
The future would come. Time would march on, as it always did. But as Malleus drifted into a peaceful slumber, held safely in your mortal arms, he finally understood that eternity wasn't about the amount of time you had.
Eternity was found in moments exactly like this one.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
❝ 𝓦𝓱𝔂 𝓭𝓸 𝓘 𝓪𝓵𝔀𝓪𝔂𝓼 𝓶𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓶𝓸𝓼𝓽 𝓹𝓸𝔀𝓮𝓻𝓯𝓾𝓵 𝓶𝓮𝓷 𝓬𝓻𝔂? 𝓘𝓽'𝓼 𝓪 𝓰𝓲𝓯𝓽, 𝓱𝓸𝓷𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓵𝔂. ❞
Author's note: So this was actually a request from one of my very close friends and of course I would NOT turn him down. 𝖮𝗄𝖺𝗒, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝗐𝖾 𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗄 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝖬𝖺𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗎𝗌 𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗎𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝖺𝗆𝖾? 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗈 𝗂𝗌𝗈𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗅𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗌 𝖲𝖮 𝖫𝖮𝖭𝖦 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗌𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗌𝗍 𝗉𝗈𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝖺𝗅 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺 𝗁𝗎𝗆𝖺𝗇 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋. 𝖨 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗄 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝖻𝗂𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗀𝗂𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗎𝖽𝖽𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝖻𝗌𝗈𝗅𝗎𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗏𝖾𝗌. 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗎𝗋𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀? 𝖨 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖽𝗂𝖾 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖽𝗋𝖺𝗀𝗈𝗇 𝖿𝖺𝖾 𝗉𝗎𝗋𝗋 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗒! 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋
⋆˚꩜｡ Word count check!: This baby clocked it at 𝟤.1k words! I hope you all enjoyed the slow-burn comfort. ᯓ★
⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔
𝖶𝗂𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖨 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝖺 𝟩-𝖿𝗈𝗈𝗍-𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝖽𝗋𝖺𝗀𝗈𝗇 𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝖻𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗄𝖾𝗍😔
⋮ ⌗ ┆ 𝖱𝖾𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗌: 𝖮𝖯𝖤𝖭 > ❝ 𝖱𝖾𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗆𝗒 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗎𝖺𝗀𝖾! 𝖫𝖾𝗍 𝗆𝖾 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝗑𝗍! ❞ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁
