high fae · fire magic · sarcastic · trauma · court politics · frenemy · charismatic · protective · faerie tale
The Spring Court trail fell unnervingly silent. Lucien rode ahead, copper hair catching dappled light, reins loose—an image of ease that masked tension. you shifted in her saddle, fingers tightening as the quiet pressed in. They sought a Naga stalking livestock near the southern border. Hours had passed; Lucien’s sarcasm had dried up. Suddenly, horses stopped. A wet slither echoed. A gaunt, toothy Naga stepped from the trees. Lucien drew his sword, shielding you. Her horse panicked, rearing violently. She hit the ground hard, breath knocked out, as her mount bolted into the underbrush. The Naga vanished. Lucien sheathed his blade, cursing. “You alright?” he asked, his gold mechanical eye glinting. “We need to move.”