#nymphcts

The truth, Elias long recognized, was what one made of it. Within days of his return, the High Lord took to the expansive texts of the luminous palace. He wanted to learn, for himself, the tales woven by those that defeated the late Lord Wakefield. His spies and informants did well to fill in the blanks, since his untimely departure from Astralis. But to learn it, in the hand of those who supposedly won, was an experience entirely on its own. The texts described the Wakefield’s lust for control and their need for order, at the expense of personal liberty. It was something he expected, but a reality that made his blood boil none the less. Not long after, his attention was pulled to the archives of his fellow courtiers. The Spring Court’s, in particular. He had lived through the Newblood reign, witnessed their hardships first-hand, and welcomed the injured Erik Newblood in exile. While he could fill in the remainder of the years, he was astonished to learn of the Deerling’s legacy. A family dipped in satin, and painted in gold. A story about a loving mother, a ruthless yet familiar Prince, and a reign that was hard-fought, but justified. It depicted Faun Deerling as the heroine, and her children as the continuance of her legacy.

And it made him sick. The simplification of matters that drew lines in the sand. He knew the ruthlessness of Faun Deerling’s previous husband, just as he knew of Erik’s own insurgence into the Doefoot’s reign. But the way in which her affair was depicted as a grand love story by his spies, and her murder as anything but treasonous? Elias had no shortage of scores to settle, and vengeance to enact. Yet there was a special place in his rage, for the returning High Lady of the Spring Court. A sense of unease for her heroism, and a distinguished rage for her role in the Wakefield’s demise. Wisdom kept Elias distant from the High Lady, too entrenched in her task as judge and tribute throughout the trials. There would be time, he assured himself. Elias waited for the better part of three hundred years. This, too, could wait. The sun came down on the first day of events, with courtiers and competitors alike retreating for an early rest. Elias busied himself with the task at hand; ensuring his return was known, and known well. But after emerging from his ‘chance’ encounter with the Day Court’s reigning Queen, he set his sights on the Spring Court estate.

The feeble-minded Knights in attendance were easy enough to dissuade. Daydreams were a powerful thing, and when they failed, his training could complete the rest. A slurry of guards at his tailcoats, but with the agility of his wings, he coursed through the loaned estate. There was no need for reinforcements. Even with the history between them, they both knew that hurting one another would be unwise. At least, not until it truly counted. He awaits until he can sense her, walking into the drawing room. Perched on a nearby, plush seat, he nods in acknowledgement. His legs crossed, and his fingers intertwined and on his knee. “I’ve missed a lot, haven’t I?” Elias asks coyly, reaching into the pocket of his jacket. Fishing out her fallen husband’s ring, he holds it up for her inspection, before lightly tossing it for her to catch. “I have a few things for you, my lady. This, along with the remainder of your husband’s belongings. Propriety dictates that his widow should have it in her possession.“ Licking his lips, his light eyes glance about the room in thought. “Although I suppose propriety has long been forgotten in Avalon City.”

♡

It wasn’t often that Tatiana was given the chance to spend time with Camille alone. The older woman was kept incredibly busy, after all, as Raphael’s personal assistant and his younger sister’s maternal figure, but she always seemed to make time for Tatiana in her unbelievably hectic schedule nevertheless…especially when the young tsarina needed it the most. Whether it was bringing her in off of the balcony when Baby had once again forced her to sleep outside after she’d accidentally said or done something the head dancer didn’t approve of, or holding her close and cuddling her after a particularly arduous session with one of the VIP guests that Raphael had lent her out to for the evening…Camille was always there for her, even when no one else was, and in her warm and comforting embrace, Tatiana had found a safe place to land in the last place that she could have ever expected it. It might not have made very much sense to the pint-sized submissive, but she was extraordinarily grateful for Camille nevertheless. 

Visiting Camille’s apartment was a rare treat, and a much-needed one after all that had happened at the Fairytales After Dark gala. She hadn’t told anyone what had happened to her yet, not even Emmaline or Saria, and she couldn’t help but feel immensely guilty because of it. Was it fair of her, to hide things from Raphael and Camille? Or was she doing the right thing by maintaining her loyalty to Viktor instead? She didn’t know anymore; she was all mixed up and jumbled and so, so confused. Still, Camille was calling for her from the kitchen, and she scampered up quickly off of the couch, tucking her errant blonde curls anxiously behind her ears as she rushed towards the pretty brunette. 

“O - oh!” she breathed out in delighted shock at the fine china tea-set that Camille was pulling down from the cupboard, clasping her tiny hands in a display of pure, simple pleasure as she looked up at the elder woman with no small amount of innocent adoration. “Is, erm - like fancy little tea party, da?” she questioned shyly, taking a tentative step towards Camille so that she could peek curiously at the various assortment of tisanes and brews that she was being offered. “Is there still being, um, apple cinnamon one from last time, Miss Camille?” 

..

Camille beamed at Tatian as she scampered over, and nodded. “Yes, and just for the two of us,” she promised. “There is,” Camille answered, turning to put what she’d pulled down back and replacing them with Tatiana’s request. “And please, just ‘Camille’, sweetheart. Especially when it’s the two of us,” the woman urged gently. Her heart ached for Tatiana more often than not. The transition to Raphael’s pet couldn’t have been easy for the petite young woman, especially when it meant being plucked from her home. More than anything, Camille wanted any time they shared together to be a break from everything, a nice time where the other could feel as safe as was possible. 

“Oh!” Camille turned suddenly, going to the fridge and pulling out two boxes, one on top of the other. “A tea party can’t be complete without snacks,” she explained as she set them on the counter and opened each for the blonde woman’s approval. One box revealed a strawberry cake, complete with shiny glazed strawberries decorating the top, while the other revealed  two dozen assorted pastries. “I wanted to make sure that there would be something you would like,” Camille explained. “Where would you like to take our tea? The table, the couch, wherever you like. And I have milk, honey, sugar...” Camille paused for a moment to turn back to her cupboard and pulled amber rock sugar as well as regular sugar and honey for Tatiana to choose from. “Anything you like, dear one,” she promised. Camille hesitated for a moment before continuing as she set about preparing the teapot for them. “I was thinking too..if you’d like, perhaps we could make this a slumber party?” Camille had worried over Tatiana a great deal since they’d been introduced, but the way the tiny Russian had sobbed in her arms the night of the gala had stuck with her.

Business and pleasure often went hand in hand for James ---- he was rarely ever not working, there was little time for him to take off when his literal job was to either kill a man or supply another man with the weapons necessary to do so. Rosewood was different, though, it was the sort of work experience he’d never really considered before and it seemed to come with its fair share of perks. One of which just so happened to be some of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen. Sophia Wren, in particular, was an anomaly. The heiress of the entire goddamned estate and yet she was a courtesan by choice. He liked that in a woman, a drive for sex and submission so deep and instinctive that she focused her entire fucking life around it. She’d proven to be sweetly intoxicating so far, from the moment he first saw her dancing up on that great big stage at the club, he’d known she was something special indeed. “You’re a natural, you know that?” he murmured, his voice a low, pleased rumble in his chest as he looked down at the well-used nymph resting on top of him, what little clothing she had previously been wearing flung across the room and hanging off of a lampshade or two. Stress relief had never been quite so effective in the past, fucking and fighting both had their merits but there was something to be said for a woman so insatiable that she’d even caught him off-guard. He rubbed his thumb in circles at the base of her spine, slowly stroking her soft skin. “And a very good girl, too.” 

There were few things in existence that Jacqueline Dubois deemed worthy of devotion and protection. Even those who shared her blood, her bed, or her confidence often missed the mark. But the entirety of her cold heart was spent on her fealty to the Night Court, and loyalty to Gabriel Beaumont. Its been that way since her early days. The young fae’s cold eyes were lit with thrill as she roamed the streets of the Night Court. There was nowhere in the realm quite like it. It was a special place, where only the remarkable and cold thrived. She was not one for sentiment, but the Night Court spurred a patriotic loyalty within her. It was the only place that could love, the most unlovable woman in the realm. Every action and reaction, was made with the betterment of the faes in her court.

Inevitably, the announcement of the High Lord’s betrothal to the nymph from The Garden spurred great intrigue. The artists deemed it a miracle, whilst the pragmatists thought it pitiful. Faes of their court were notoriously suspicious of outsiders, especially one that would be addressed as their High Lady. The alliance with the Queen of Roses and the Wild Hunt would evoke strength in the coming Solstice. A threat to their enemies, and a challenge to their conspirators. It was an achievement for the Nightmare King. But as his advisor, Jacqueline kept her ear to the ground. There would be those that resisted a young nymph, of all brides, and her place in their home. Such as it was, Gabriel’s decision was made. And, loyal as ever, she looked to ensure its success. She awaits the nymph at the entryway, echelon in the myriad of mountains and hellhounds that guarded their fortress. The guards were aware, of course, of the nymph’s arrival. But Jacqueline was present, hooded in a chic, midnight blue cloak (a quiet and purposeful manner of intimidation).

“Bonjour, mademoiselle La Fleur.” Jacqueline greets, staring at the blond nymph directly. Not a bow to her head, or a smile to be regarded. “Je suis Jacqueline Dubois.” She removes her hood, revealing her lush black hair slickly combed back. “Do you prefer the common tongue?”

Camille hummed softly as she set her tea kettle on the stove to boil. The submissive was grateful to have been granted the afternoon off, and it was the perfect opportunity to invite Tatiana over for a peaceful afternoon. She adored Raphael, Baby, and Luca with her entire heart, but she also understood very well that the could be rocks and hard places personified. Perhaps that was why she felt a special sort of kinship with the petite Russian. Of course, there was a fair amount of guilt over her kidnapping as well, and a strong desire to protect her.

“Tatiana?” Camille called gently as she started to pull down her tea set. “What sort of tea would you like today? I have earl gray, paris, irish breakfast..” she listed off, setting the cups and saucers down on her counter before crossing the kitchen to get the tins of tea and herbs. “I have rosebuds, lavender, and chamomile as well, if you want something more floral,” the older woman offered as she set the tins out for inspection. A soft smile curved her full lips as she looked to Tatiana for her choice. This will be nice, she decided, as if through will alone she could make it so. Especially after everything that had happened with the party, surely they could both do with a quiet afternoon.