#wratheart

@wratheart / @godbanes​ said :   ❛   it will be alright.   we’ll solve this problem as we’ve solved all the others before.   ❜   - tarquin   //   a very ancient meme.

she's been denying what they meant to one another for so long now,   to protect them both in the situation they were in under amarantha's reign of terror.   she can still remember,   past the loss of the day she became high lady,   the first time she'd sensed that bond between them.   perhaps it had been them both coming into the powers of their courts that had been the catalyst,   but she had known with certainty that day that tarquin meant FAR more to her than she could ever admit  to anyone down there,   even herself.   and so she had blocked that part of herself off,   keeping her relationship with him to little more than friends.   there had been times,   in her loneliness,   where she had been tempted to reach out to him to see if he had this new sense,   too;   but the risk had been too great.

           𝐭𝐚𝐦𝐥𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬. said it was just a picnic and had even helped her prepare the food, taking cheeses and wine and bread from her hand and depositing them into the basket. she tried not to think about the easy banter between them as she gently ( but firmly ) reordered them in the basket, and pretending not to blush at the amusement on his face. so what if ambrosia took her organizing seriously? it was her way of making a chaotic world less... chaotic. 

but at the field there was no chaos. only peace and sunshine and flowers and things she could not name because they were so beautiful they defied language. ❝ thank you for bringing me here, ❞ she said later, when they were splayed out under the clouds, the wind playing with both their hair like a lazy lover. ❝ it’s been a magical afternoon. I wish we didn’t have to go back so soon. ❞ she looked between him and the meadow fondly, unable to remember a time she’d ever been as content as she was now. 

ˏˋ⠀𑁍   @wratheart​​  —-  hurt / comfort sentence starters;   “  i’m sorry to wake you up, but i really need someone to talk to.  ”   —   lucien.

SHE  COULD  HEAR  HER  NAME  LIKE  A  GENTLE  SPRING  BREEZE.   it  was  soft  and  quiet   ,   whispered  into  the  air  like  a  prayer.   she  heard  his  voice   ,   felt  his  presence  near   ---   smelled  the  very  scent  of  cinnamon  and  campfire  smoke  she  had  come  to  recognize  as  lucien  before  she  was  even  fully  awake.   she  can  feel  his  hands  on  her   --   the  calluses  on  the  pads  of  his  fingers  resting  gently   ,   hesitantly   ,   on  her  shoulder  as  he  shakes  her  out  of  her  sleep.   she  sits  upright  in  bed   ,   hands  raised  to  rub  at  her  eyelids   ,   rapidly  blinking  as  she  adjusts  to  the  darkness  of  the  room.

   Nima had never known her father and so she’d devised a plan to leave her home, her currently family, and her mother to seek him out. She’d been young and hadn’t thought things through, like there must have been a reason that her mother left her father in the first place. No, Nima had never imagined how cruel her father could be, not until it was too late and she was in his clutches.

   For nearly a century she’d had to endure his torture, his mind games, and his need to feel superior over her. So it was that he came to an arrangement with the High Lord of the Spring Court. That in exchange for a sum, the High Lord would take the girl and put her to work as a servant in his household. It was more a kindness on the Lord of Spring’s part given the condition in which she was born. See Nima had been born without the ability to hear, where her mother treated her no different, her father found it displeasing and shameful. To him Nima was an embarrassment and a disgrace upon his lineage. To rid himself of her and write her off had been his goal since the day she showed up on his doorstep amongst the Winter Court. Rather than send her back to her mother he found making this arrangement far more lucrative.

   The fair haired fae was handed over to Tamlin’s emissary Lucian and moved from the Winter Court to Spring. The change in weather alone was enough to cause Nima discomfort but the colors were far more inviting. Of course Nima’s father had not informed Tamlin or Lucian that his daughter was deaf. Had told the female to pay attention and read lips so they did not grow suspicious until his funds were procured. Once she was across boarders and his money was in hand he cared little if they discovered his deception.

       𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐘𝐄𝐓 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐃 on her little doll-chaise, the picture of histrionic drama. every time Bryce so much as looked at her, the pout on her flame-tipped lips seemed to expand, spreading until it was almost comical. ❛ if you think making that face is going to make me give you some, you should know better. I’m pretty sure giving you ice cream would be deadly, and I’m not willing to try just because you want some. ❜ sometimes, it was like having two of syrinx around. 

still, that wouldn’t keep her from indulging in it. and licking her lips after. 

❛ don’t look so glum, lele. I could... boil some of this for you? ❜