#xemma

♛ for a royalty au

Rion knew that he didn’t belong these in hallowed halls but that was only to be expected when someone who looked like a rogue married into nobility. And even more when his wife was Princess Charlotte.

Admittedly that was only because she was the most naive and tricking her into thinking he loved her was far too easy. In fact, just thinking over how simple it had been was what put the current smile on his face.

“Well, I’m going to retire for the night,” Charlotte announced, “darling, please don’t stay up too late. And it’s been wonderful getting to talk with you again, Emma.”

“I’ll be up soon, my love,” Rion charmed as he kissed Charlotte before she left the room. The door closed behind her and a smirk spread across his face, “It seems like we’re all alone again, Princess Emma.”

“It does seem that way, Mr Hannifan-”

“Ah, not Mr Hannifan anymore,” he held his finger up, “it’s Prince Rion.”

“My apologies, Prince Rion,” Emma smirked in return before standing up and steadily walking up to him. Her finger trailed lightly down his chest as she whispered in his ear, “I do hope you can forgive me.”

“I’m sure you could do something to make me completely forget all about it,” the back of his hand brushed softly down her side. “Provided your cousin doesn’t hear about it.”

♛: Reincarnated Soulmates who remember their past lives the first time they touch

Another night, another girl, another bed to sneak out of before the sun rose again. Compliments had been exchanged, flirts traded and teasing looks given; all in all, it was shaping up to be another good night for Rion.

But Emma was a sly one, always pulling away at the right moment to make him want her more, luring him in ever further. Enjoying the teasing, Rion had played along but he was growing impatient, he just wanted her to admit that she wanted this as much as he did.

Gripping her face in his hands he launched his lips onto hers, melting into the kiss as he did so. The touch sparked a whole series of new sights, new smells but despite not seeing them before he knew that he’d felt them somewhere else.

Apparently the legend was true.

He knew they’d been here before. Sometimes it was just for a wonderful night, other times they’d dated only to end down the line in every way imaginable, he was pretty sure that they had been married a few times too. When they worked they were wonderful. When they didn’t . . . well, it wasn’t just their metaphorical heart that ended up broken.

He pulled away, knowing that the shocked look on her face was mirrored in his own. “How many times have we done this, Emma?” he asked, voice a tender whisper.

“I don’t know,” she sighed, sadness in her face as she locked eyes with him. Their last memory was the most fresh. And the most painful. “Hundreds, maybe even thousands of times.”

Rion didn’t know what to say to that, knowing that she was pretty right in that and he simply took a step back. Pushing a hand through his mess of hair he spoke again, “This time, I’m gonna do right by you. I promise”

send me ♫ for your muse to catch mine singing in the shower

Just like sleeping, washing was an incredibly private time for Rion. His clothes off and wand far out of reach he felt incredibly vulnerable doing it with anyone else around. And that’s why he always made sure that he was alone. Or at least, thought he was.

He was singing (in the loosest sense of the word) his favourite track by his favourite artist, A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love by Celestina Warbeck and with the freedom that came with privacy he was really going for it.

As he came in for the final line he really built up to a crescendo, not hearing someone enter into the bathroom. As the note died away and the room was filled with the sound of the insistent stream of water someone began to clap behind him.

“Wow, that was really . . . something, Hannifan,” Emma’s nose crinkled a little at the sight.

Whatever embarrassment Rion may have felt was covered easily with a self-confident bravado. His body half-covered in soap he turned around to face her, “What can I say? I’m simply amazing.” Even he didn’t believe that this time.

“Right.” Her eyes went down to his waist then tracked their way back up to his face. “Do you mind covering yourself up?”

“What’s the matter, Miss Chevalier?” he smirked as he spread his legs apart a little wider and placed his hands on his hips. “Scared you’ll see something you like?”

“No, I’d just rather not have Warrington mess up such a handsome face as yours,” she tapped him playfully on the nose.

Taking a step out of the stream and towards her his voice became deeper and smoother, “Oh, I’m sure we could find some way to make sure he never hears about this.”

send me a ❥ for a arranged marriage au: our muses are forced together into a marriage and they're in their room alone

There was so much about this that was unexpected. Sure, Rion had been making a bit of a name for himself lately but that couldn’t make up for the fact that he was a halfblood. So, when Mr Chevalier approached his parents about a marriage between their children calling it a surprise was an understatement.

They were married quickly, time being of the essence lately and not long after they found themselves alone, confronting their new arrangement. As he often was nowadays, Rion was drinking, hardly feeling the liquor sting as it went down.

“I know that I’m not what you wanted for a husband,” he shrugged, no malice present in his voice.

“Oh, really. And what would make you think that love?”

“The fact that I’m not a pureblood, my family’s not as rich as it once was, I’m not exactly liked by either side’s leaders, take your pick.” He downed the remainder of his drink before he looked at her, daring her to contradict him. “Still, I think we could just about make something good for us out of this.”

She couldn’t fault him for what he said, Emma had been looking for someone more like what he’d said. “Now I don’t doubt that we could,” she crossed over to him with a smirk on her face, “I trust you have an idea?”

“I have the inklings of one,” he chuckled softly, liking the look that she had, “but I’ll need your help with planning and execution.”

“My help?” she had an almost innocent look on her face as her finger traced the curve of his jaw. “I suppose it would be rude for me to refuse my husband.”

“I thought you’d see it that way. And whilst we’re here,” his voice dropped in pitch as his hands came to rest on her hips, “I rather think that we ought to consummate this marriage.”

“Now that seems like a wonderful first step,” she whispered as she leant up to kiss him.