⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

Hai, I'm Azi ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´ω`ﾟ)ﾟ｡ 19, she/her, queer, luv whimsy. writing for niche characters

[azureumm]

Public announcement: The sapphic Earis x reader fic is happening and it miiiight just be an actual multiple part story... 😼

Just... give me time... Uni is truly beating my ass currently but trust me, my queer brain is already full of ideas for this fic ;3

[azureumm]

I genuinely love Earis as a character sm, they have such an intricate story and character building even as a listener character.... Would it be too meta to write an Earis x reader sapphic fic?

Hm... I'll see myself out....

[azureumm]

My Moon My Man

Zaros x F!Earis (sorry lads, idk how to write mlm)

A/N: not proofread AT ALLLL, I was just very bored and thinking abt Zaros and how he would def be a munch.... also men who yearn are men who earn and that's all I was thinking about.

tags: fighting, yearning, confessions, cunnilingus, fingering, just a bunch of smut tbf, zaros is a munchhhh, slight aftercare/pillowtalk.

18+, MDNI pls, ty

You were tossing and turning in your sheets, the soft Serullian silk duvet sticking to your sticky, hot skin. You tried so hard to shut off your thoughts, trying to dampen them by reciting poetry from the various books you had read, but they would not subside, no matter what you tried. 

You had already drunk the tea your handmaid had offered, and while it made you woozy and your eyes heavy, you were now sure that there was no cure for a racing mind. 

Just why would he let me win?

You could not stop mulling it over and over again, remembering Zaros’s hesitation to react and attack you when you were open. You knew you were open because you made sure of it. And yet, here you were, presumably the undeserving winner of the duel. 

It irked you that it was unfair. You knew you could take it, no matter your injuries, no matter the pain. You were so angry at him, so irritated, so… sad? 

You finally shot up in your bed that felt too warm for comfort. You slipped on a robe atop your night garments and grabbed a lantern. You could not stand this anymore. The conversation after the duel didn’t cut it; you needed to know why Zaros had given you the victory, and you would not sleep until you found out.

Your feelings were weighing down on your chest; you could physically feel it - the confusing nature of your anger snaking around your body and sending small shockwaves of nervous goosebumps down your back. There was uncontrollable heat building up inside you as you thought of things you wanted to tell Zaros. And somewhere between your anger, confusion, and annoyance, you saw a glimpse of Zaros’s hands around your waist, lingering on you for longer than necessary. Longer than polite or proper. 

You stopped, looking around the halls, checking around to make sure that no one was around, forgetting that no one could read your mind. 

You huffed, annoyed at yourself this time, and continued on. The halls were empty and dark, only lit up by the silver lantern in your hand. It cast your shadow on the walls and doors as you passed them and made your way to the wing Zaros was situated in. 

As you approached the door of his chambers, you noticed light spilling out from the thin crack of the door, illuminating a small part of the cold floor. You thanked the Gods that they had kept Zaros awake for your planned intervention of sorts, but as you got even closer, you suddenly stopped. 

You heard Zaros talking, his usual smooth and velvety but often aggravating voice sounding slightly muffled behind the thick oak door. But his voice wasn’t the only one being heard - a much softer, higher-pitched laugh spilled through the cracks, and after your momentary shock, you pressed your ear to the door. 

“You’re a very good model, I must say.” You heard Zaros chuckle and then heard a woman reply: “You’re too kind, Sal Zaros, I am hardly worthy of such flattery.”

You stepped back from the door, your heart beating faster than before, thumping against your ribs as a new emotion overtook you. You turned around to leave, but your body and mind were at a breaking point. Just as quickly as you had turned to leave, you whipped your body around, and with a few angry steps, you walked to the door, giving the hard wooden surface a few loud knocks. 

There was sudden silence in the room. You knocked again, this time more impatient than the last, and after some shuffling, footsteps approached the door.

“Earis?” Zaros said, shocked. He looked back inside his room and opened the door wider once he realized it was you outside. 

“Zaros.” You said flatly, half-assing your greeting. Behind him stood a red-haired girl with freckles, and she looked between you two and approached the door, giving you both a curtsey out of nervousness. “Your duvet has been changed, Sal Zaros. I wish you both a good night.” She brushed past you two in a hurry. You followed her with your gaze for a moment before it returned to Zaros. 

As soon as you knew she was a good distance away, you pushed past Zaros into his room, and he sighed, “Still no invitation needed, I see. Your noble mindset never ceases to amaze me.” He closed the door behind you and turned to face you. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit at this late hour, my Earis?”

And without thinking, all your built-up tension snapped like a worn-out bowstring, releasing a sharp blow aimed at no one other than Zaros.

“You cunning, lying, piece of dirt!” The words pushed through your clenched jaw and teeth, sounding more venomous than they ever had before. Zaros’s expression fell, forming a confused frown. As he was about to speak, you cut in. 

“Don’t you even dare!” You exclaimed sharply, “Ever since your arrival here, ever since you contended for the throne, everything has been wrong. You’ve been a pain in my side, tormenting me as if I’m some plaything to you, as if there aren’t enough activities in this goddamn royal castle for you.”

“You continuously irk me, patronize me, lie to me about how things used to be, when you know damn well that you chose to betray me. You act as if you know everything all the damned time, when in reality, you have this idealistic idea of how things should be, but they’re not like that. You cannot always please everyone.”

Zaros clenches his fists as he crosses his arms, taking on a defensive stance against your words. You take a small breath and continue to pour your feelings onto him with fervor, “And then you act as if we’re friends again, talking about our years in the academy, trying to break down my walls once more just so you can get to me.”

“And then you’re caring for me, and you’re letting me win like I’m a weak, poor lamb that you must rehabilitate so you can break me down again.” You suddenly feel hot, salty tears threaten to fall from your eyes, but in this state, you feel as if it doesn’t matter, “I know who you are, I knew you way back when, and you haven’t changed one bit. Acting as if you care, dressing my wounds, and holding my waist as if you mean something by it, but never explaining what it is. God’s be dammed, how do you expect me to interpret that?!” 

Your breathing is ragged as your outburst subsides. You glare at each other in deafening silence, and you internally thank that no one is close enough to Zaros’s chambers to have overheard your words. 

You feel the salty liquid finally spilling over, and you wipe your eyes as best you can, feeling like a fool in front of Zaros.

“Well, say something!” You demand, slightly choked up. 

“Say something?” Zaros lets out a dry, sarcastic chuckle, his smile defensive and almost offended.

“I have no idea where this outburst has come from, my Earis, but I assure you, whatever narrative you’ve built of me in your mind is false.” He steps closer, still keeping a good distance, and continues, “Not once have I lied, and if you knew anything about me, you’d know I value honesty more than anything.”

“As for dressing your wounds,” He raises his voice ever so slightly, “Well, I am so sorry for trying to keep you alive!” He chuckles once again. 

“You are truly unbelievable and paranoid. Clearly, you haven’t left these walls long enough, because I don’t remember the last time I met someone so scared of human connections. I have never, ever had ulterior motives when speaking to you.” His words seem to rile him up, and he steps even closer, his tone growing more agitated, yet he keeps his voice as quiet as possible, speaking in a whisper-like shout. 

“Then why else would you try to get close to me?” You shoot back, and without any hesitation, Zaros retorts.

“Because I wish to know you!” He says as if it is obvious, “All I’ve ever wanted, all I’ve ever tried to do is to know you, how can you not see that?” His voice cracks slightly, and he stops for a moment, closing his eyes and trying to collect his thoughts, but it doesn’t work as well as he’d hoped, and his voice sounds shaky, almost pleading. 

“It broke me when you left. It tore me down in every possible way a man can be torn down, and for years I resented you, for years I thought of you, for years I longed and pined after you, and knowing that you would never be in my life again… It was unbearable.” His breathing is heavier than before, and to soothe himself, he runs his hands over his face. “And the thought that you resented me too, that was the worst part. I couldn’t- I- I didn’t know what to do, how to make you hear me, how to- ” He stops, finding himself on the verge of breaking.

“So, excuse me for trying to set things right.” He finally speaks, “Forgive me, my Earis, for wanting to be in your presence even knowing you hate me, and knowing you think of me as a traitor and a leech. I see it is no use now, and once the trials are over and you’re announced as the next ruler, I will make sure to stay as far away from you as possible, even if no other city, country, or continent is far enough for me to forget you.”

Your limbs were tingling, adrenaline rushing to your head, making the room spin. You had never seen your rival in such a state of disarray and had never heard him say anything even remotely close to the confession he’d just given you. 

“Please.” He turned to the side, unable to look at you any longer, “Go, so I don’t cause you more distress.”

But you just stood there, unable to form a coherent thought or a response, not even able to muster up a single movement. It was like an invisible force was holding you down, tied to the floor. Zaros glanced back at you and spoke once more, “Please, my Earis, I cannot bear to be in your presence like this any longer.”

The room fell quiet as you looked at each other. Zaros stood up straight and turned to face you, noticing your state of disbelief. He grew wary as he approached you, his strong hand touching your elbow gently. 

“Earis?” He whispered softly, “Are you alright?” 

You looked up at him, teary-eyed and vulnerable, your reflection mirroring his. 

“Earis?” he let out a shaky breath, his whisper almost inaudible, his eyes never leaving yours, looking for something within them. A sign, a confirmation, a denial. He was waiting for a shove, a push, a harshness that belonged only to you and was only extended towards him. But for the first time, it wasn’t annoyance or anger he got.

Slowly, your hand reached up to push his slightly messy hair away from his face, and it found its place on the side of his face, cupping his jaw ever so slightly.

“I don’t understand-” He involuntarily leaned forward into your touch. “What is it that you want from me?” He begged for an answer. 

“I have never felt this strongly about anything in my entire life. Even back at the academy. None of my victories, none of my grades, not even duel wins nor being adored by everyone around me, has ever felt like this.” You finally speak.

“I used to think it was hatred, I used to think it was rivalry. I wanted to think that, because it was the only easy way to explain how strongly I felt for you. How strongly I still feel for you.” Your hand slid down to Zaros’s chest, your palm lying flat against his heart, feeling the rhythm of his heartbeat. And when you finally got a good feel, you realized they matched yours.

You looked up at him once more. The man who was usually quick-witted and sharp had fallen silent in front of you, all witty remarks spent on the emotional outbursts and confessions. Instead, his eyes held a different motive, one of longing and anticipation. It seemed as if the air had been sucked out of the room, neither of you making a move, as if still holding back. 

“My Earis,” Zaros spoke, his voice deep and full of intensity, but before he said the next words, your feelings took reigns once more, and you leaned in with impatience, connecting your lips to his. It was a short moment, but you felt as if something began burning inside you when your bodies collided. 

Zaros didn’t back away, only pulled you closer, his hands wrapping around you, pressing you against him. When you momentarily stopped, your breath mingled with his in a web of heat and want, and you wanted more of it. You wanted more of him. 

As if having read your thoughts, Zaros found your lips again, the kisses more heated than before as he pushed you back until your back hit the bedpost. His hands roamed your body, moving from your hips back up to your waist and then even higher. He stopped at the seams of your robe and pulled back slightly to look at you.

“May I?” He asked and you nodded, “Yes, please.”

He slid his hands under your robe and peeled it off your body slowly, revealing your nightgown. He dipped down towards your neck, and as if ravenous, he began to kiss it. 

You leaned back against the bedpost, your hands mingling in his hair, holding it away from his face. His lips grazed your skin with tenderness and hunger; meanwhile, his hands slowly undid your nightgown, pushing it down your figure. It fell to the floor, and you stepped out of it, shoving it aside with your foot. 

His tongue licked and nibbed at your sensitive shoulders and collar bones, slowly leaving a trail of small red spots all the way down between your breasts. His hands slid up and cupped them, using one hand to pinch and tease your already hardening nipple while his mouth slowly wrapped around the other one, sucking on it with just the right amount of pressure. 

Breathing heavily, you looked down at the scene and let out a gasp when he gently bit down. He chuckled with the sensitive bud still between his teeth and then looked up at you, his eyes hazy and drunk on you. 

He removed his mouth from your nipple and replaced it with his other hand, rolling it between his fingers just like the other one. The anticipation within you continued to build and sent shivers all the way down between your legs. 

Zaros kneeled in front of you, and you felt your breath hitch as he lifted one of your legs over his shoulder. 

“What are you doing?” You asked, breathless and dazed. He simply looked up at you, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh, and sucked on your skin, simply retorting: “Getting to know all of you.”

He sucked on the skin of your inner thigh, slowly licking his way up. You continued to look at him, eyes glued to the scene below you, and it was almost too much to bear. You felt your own arousal dripping down your thigh, and before it could make it down any lower, Zaros’s tongue lapped it up, continuing its path all the way up until his tongue ever so slightly parted your thatch of hair and licked your slit. 

He let out a groan of satisfaction mirroring your own, and his tongue delved deeper, licking upwards with more pressure. His right hand was kneading your thigh that was over his shoulder, while his other hand spread open your lips to get better access. 

He continued to tease, running his tongue up and down with little to no pressure, making you a gasping mess above him. 

“Please,” You breathed, “More.”

He smiled against you and hummed, “So demanding,” but still, he obliged, and his tongue reached your sensitive bundle of nerves at the top, moving back and forth over it, creating friction that made you grip his hair tighter. He gasped against your sex at the gesture, but continued immediately. 

Zaros continued to tease you, sometimes straying away from your clit, and instead teasing your dripping entrance with his wet tongue, lapping up everything you were giving him, thoroughly enjoying every gasp, breath, and noise you were making. 

Finally, his hand that kept you spread open moved to your clit, his thumb circling it with pressure and a steady rhythm, but his tongue moved past your entrance and slid in with ease. He moved it upwards, trying to reach it as far back and up as possible. 

“Oh Gods-” You whined and writhed against the bedpost, your hips moving against his face, practically riding it. You felt tension building deep in your core, like a wave approaching. 

“Zaros!” You gasped as he sped up his pace, toying with your clit faster, with more pressure, while his tongue dug deeper, almost hitting your most sensitive spot. He didn’t slow down, and you didn’t want him to. Your hips bucked into him, and the tension within you snapped. Your orgasm washed over you, sending a wave of pleasure all over your body. 

Zaros continued to move his tongue, waiting for you to ride it out. You whined as it became too much, pushing his head away, and he briefly considered staying right where he was, but he didn’t want to be too mean. 

Slowly, he moved back, his chin and mouth still glistening. He wiped his mouth and licked up all he could before letting your leg down from his shoulder. You were breathing heavily, legs trembling slightly from the intensity of the affair. 

He stood up and kissed you once more, this time softer and more gentle. His hands wrapped around you, and together you moved to the bed. 

“I wasn’t aware that mouth of yours had a good use.” You slowly slipped back into a teasing tone, the intensity of emotions wearing down ever so slightly, making way for the usual banter. 

Zaros laughed and lay next to you, leading your leg across his hip, tracing random lines and shapes on the side of your thigh, “If you insult me after that, I think I’m never getting on your good side.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s never happening.” You smiled and suddenly pushed Zaros on his back, straddling his hips. “You have way too many clothes on, that’s unfair.”

“Well, I was a little preoccupied, my Earis.” His hands settled on your hips.

“Well, I can help with that.” You smiled and leaned down to catch his lips with your own, kissing him as he pulled you even closer, needing to feel the heat of your body like he had craved for all those years apart from you. It felt surreal and dizzying, and in this moment, the trials and everything else had been put on hold, because tonight, you only needed each other.

[azureumm]

Does anyone have any good suggestions or ideas for a Zaros fic🥹🥹🥹 For the love of me, I cannot figure out a cool plot line to write. PLEASE! I'll take anything (that's not weird).

nsfw is allowed but I prefer to write longer one shots with a plot line (о´∀`о)

[azureumm]

Breaking news: A financially irresponsible and broke university student spends money on a patreon subscription to gain access to the new Noble Trials early release. (I'll be living off the tomatos and potatoes mother dearest gave me when I moved for the next month or so....)

#investment

ps. u can probably expect a few fics after this, cuz I've been starved of ideas and motivation to write.

[azureumm]

Ok last post about him today. I'm no artist, I literally barely draw anything but schizo charcoal drawings every once in a blue moon, but this man is eating at my brain so I had to sketch him. Back to schoolwork now.

(sorry if the proportions are off T_T)

[azureumm]

Moonlit Sentiments and Secrecy (Zaros x Earis)

This points to Earis being female, but if someone wishes, I can change a few things around and post a male reader version, it's really just a few words here and there that hint to Earis being gal ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´ω`ﾟ)ﾟ｡

tags and cw: drinking, two adults under the influence (mildly), Earis and Zaros backstory snippet, fluff in you squint, tension, idk it's just kind of sweet and open ended for the most part.

Once again, not proofread and english isn't my native language!!! Sorry in advance for any grammar mistakes, feel free to point them out (just be kind :3)! ENJOYYY!!!

Songs for the vibes if anyone's interested:

Symbol by Adrianne Lenker.

Les filles désir by Vendredi sur Mer.

˚₊· ➳❥

Some nobles drank wine for the taste, and for better conversation. But the younger ladies and noblemen that attended the grand banquets and glamorous dinner parties or balls, they drank for the sake of getting drunk.

Truthfully, they weren't much different from drunk scoundrels or young people down in one of the inns or bars in the city, the only difference between the common folk and them was a need for an aesthetically pleasing drink and setting.

You remember the time back in the academy when you and Zaros snuck into the kitchen at night. Zaros had seen the head chef hiding a bottle of rum somewhere deep into the pantry, and on an impulsive whim, had convinced you, that you two needed to try it. With hushed voices and whispers of laughter, you two found the bottle after only a minute of searching.

"Told you this would be easy." Zaros had whispered, holding the bottle up in my hand as you both stood in the narrow room that served as a storage for all the interesting herbs, spices, flour and all kinds of items you couldn't even put a name to.

You haven't drank rum since that night, convinced that if you did, it would instantly send the contents of your stomach right up, maybe from the memory of how sick you felt from it afterwards. Or maybe from the now bittersweet memory of you and Zaros sitting in your dorm room, warm and cozy light being cast from the candles you had lit, sharing the bottle of the disgustingly spirited drink.

"Gods, this tastes like death," You wince as you sip the clear liquid and it runs down your throat, leaving a burning and threateningly sickly feeling at the back of your tongue, "Are you sure it's meant for drinking?"

"Of course, I've seen the old guy sneaking sips of it behind the kitchen. You can see that quite well from the academy gardens." He smirks and takes a sip too, wincing similarly to you.

That night was the first night you ever drank. You didn't know what people usually did when they were drunk, you had only seen them talking and laughing more than usual at the palace parties your mother held every so often. But when it was just you and Zaros sitting on the soft cushions in your bed, the room dim and safe, you weren't sure what you were supposed to do with the warm feeling in your cheeks or the urge to giggle at every dumb joke he made.

It was very late by then, and the rum had taken its full effect on both of you. You both were a laughing mess, laid back on top of the cover of your bed, looking up at the soft, light green canopy hung above your bed. You looked at him, studying his profile and then turned on your side. He glanced at you and mirrored your movements, his blond hair, that was slightly shorter back then, falling over his face.

Under the influence of the rum, you reached out without hesitation flipping it away from his face. "You should get a haircut." You said jokingly and he laughed.

"Hopefully not done by you."

"I'd do a great job." You lied, mind fuzzy and unfiltered.

"You mean a great job at leaving me hairless." He remarked, his quick wit still the same, even under the influence.

You sat up slightly, suddenly placing both your hands on his cheeks. His skin was hot and at your sudden action, he looked surprised.

"What are you doing?" He asked quietly and you suddenly pinched his cheeks slightly.

"Your face looks weird." You giggle at his slightly mortified expression before it turns into a smile. "You're being weird."

You shake your head, disagreeing, "I'm being drunk."

Nothing you said made much sense in that moment. He took your hands that were still on his face and held them up away from him. You tried to push them back towards him, laughing at how light you felt, your usual strength not really coming through in the moment.

"Stop-" He protested in a hushed voice, between grunts from trying to fight you off and laughs that he couldn't hold back, the situation at hand bizarre to witness.

Suddenly he sat up too, his hands still wrapped around your wrists and he softly, but not lacking force, pushed you back down onto the pillow behind you. You couldn't stop laughing, because even he didn't seem to be holding his liquor very well.

He let go of your wrists falling back closer to you now and he turned to his side, throwing his arm around your stomach, his body staying close to yours.

"What are you doing?" You chuckled, turning your head as much as you could to look back at him.

His eyes were closed and his forehead was almost pressed against your back. "Keeping you in place, so you stop being weird." He was apparently too drunk to move up on the bed as he stayed in the same position he had fallen into, his legs slightly over the edge of your bed, clinging onto you.

"And this isn't weird?"

He hummed a small "mhm-m" and you felt him relax against you. The chatter and laughter died down. You turned your head back to look at your nightstand in front of you, feeling his breathing rise and fall. Your body felt like it was spinning each time you closed your eyes but somehow Zaros's presence grounded you enough to let you slowly drift off to sleep.

You two never spoke about it afterwards. You weren't sure if it was because you both weren't didn't know how much of the night the other recalled, or because it seemed too... intimate to mention. But you remembered how warm and comforting it felt, and no matter how much you wished to forget it, the moment played on your mind even years later when you'd have one too many wine glasses in a row, with no one but you yourself as company.

Even tonight, as the rest of the young ladies and lords celebrate their families being important enough to be invited to a royal ball, and while their parents spin wheels of gossip about each and every one of the attendees, you find yourself thinking back on the moment.

A glass of wine in your hand, your gaze unfocused and slightly bored, you stand politely by a table of small finger-sized appetizers and beautifully garnished foods on equally beautiful trays.

Someone enters your view, standing out from the rest. Not because they're dressed more outstandingly, but because they are looking right at you. Zaros. You snap out of your dreamy state and his frame comes into full focus as he approaches you. It reminds you of the night you first saw him before the trials started. Before his mother brought him forward as a contender for the throne.

"Not enjoying the party?" He asks when he is close enough to you, his hair smoothly styled and his clothes perfectly tailored down to the last bead of his coat, the beautifully embroidered patterns looking as classy as ever. His words give you a sense of deja vu, a small callback to that same night your right to the throne was put at risk.

You look at him and then take a sip of your wine. "Is that your all time favorite conversation starter?" You give him a small smug smile, the wine loosening the muscles in your face that usually seem to be so tense.

He chuckles, his eyes staying on yours. "It works doesn't it? It's a good general opener when approaching someone sulking in a corner of an extravaganza."

You tilt your head, eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly but your expression stays moderately playful. More than usual. "I'm not sulking." You look behind him at the people chatting and laughing, the middle of the ballroom reserved for pairs who spin to the live music. "I'm just staying back for today. Saving my strength for the grand announcement of my victory tomorrow."

He huffs a laugh, shaking his head. "So overly confident you'll win...That will only make it more fun for me when they call my name as the next ruler." He takes a few steps and stands right next to you, watching the people in the ballroom alongside you.

"Maybe in your dreams, Zaros." You glance at him, seeing his profile and his careful gaze taking in the rest of the world. He's thinking something, you can tell. "What is it?"

He returns his gaze to you, his face relaxed. Zaros takes a moment to think, and you feel slightly unsettled at how intensely he's looking at your face. "My Earis, it is the last night before the results. I think we should celebrate separately."

"Celebrate?" Your eyebrows raise at his words, "Celebrate what exactly?"

"The end of the trials. No matter who's fated to win tomorrow, it's over isn't it? That in of itself is worth celebrating, don't you think?" His voice is calm and you don't sense any irony or hidden undertones in it.

"And what do you suggest?" You ask, curiosity getting the best of you. Gods, you hate when he keeps you guessing. But somewhere deep inside, throughout all of this, you feel a strange sense of comfort. Zaros's presence back in your life has brought back something you wished to keep hidden. Or at least hidden from everyone but him, as much as you hated to admit it.

He smirks, a small intrigued and cheeky hum escaping him. He nods to his right at the ballroom door and turns away from you, taking slow, long strides towards the exit, seeping with a quiet confidence.

You open your mouth to protest but he's already halfway out the door. You sigh and as quickly and elegantly as possible down the rest of your wine, putting the empty glass on the table beside you, walking after him.

When you're out the door, Zaros is already continuing down the hallway to your left. You speed up, catching up to him, walking beside him now. "So you just won't tell me what you've planned then?"

He looks forward, making his way towards his own chambers. "Patience, my Earis. You'll know soon enough."

You narrow your eyes, the feeling of suspense only growing in your stomach. When you arrive by his door, he opens it, letting you enter first. "M'lady." He jokes and you hold back an eye roll, walking into his room. He follows and closes the door, walking past you and towards a cupboard by his bed.

"Not suspicious at all, Zaros." You remark and lean against the door, crossing your arms on your chest, waiting for whatever he's up to.

He rummages through the cupboard and you hear the sound of something clinking against the wood before he stands up and walks back towards you, a clear bottle of liquid in his hand. He holds it up, shaking it a little and your eyes widen.

"By the gods, no way." You say and he approaches you closer.

"Come on, Earis. For the sake of sentiment. And celebration." His smile is as charming as ever, his tone convincing and confident.

You look at the bottle in his hand again, sighing as you drop your hands to your sides, approaching him. "Where did you even get this?"

Zaros walks back, sitting down into a cushioned window nook, nodding to the space next to him. Slowly, you comply, unsure about the idea.

"I got when we stopped at Niverud. When browsing the street markets, I noticed a lady selling some rum and wine... the bottle reminded me of that day at the academy. I thought I'd keep it around as... some kind of reminder." He opened the sealed bottle top and the faint smell of spirit filled the air.

"A reminder?" You questioned quietly and he nodded. "Yes. But since we're both here now, and we're celebrating, I thought it was the perfect opportunity to open it."

You look at the bottle he's extended to you and you let out a breathy laugh. "You first then." He shakes his head and smiles. "No, my Earis, you took the first sip back then. We shall stay true to our roots."

You sigh and take the bottle from his hands, your fingers briefly touching his, his hands cold in comparison to you. You smell the clear liquid first, pulling back slightly when you do. You start to think about the consequences you will must certainly have to face tomorrow morning if you mix wine and this awful creation but when you glance back at Zaros, you feel a strange sense of ease.

"Ah, to hell with it." You murmur and take a sip from the bottle. The rum is warm and it burns your throat just like it did back then. You swallow as quickly as you can and lean forward, holding your hand to your mouth, taking a moment to collect yourself and keep yourself from gagging at the sensation.

"Gods. It's somehow worse." You exclaim, your voice strained, but Zaros just chuckles, taking the bottle from you. You sit up right and watch him take a sip too. He winces. But his reaction isn't half as dramatic or bad as yours.

"It seems like someone has been practicing. In the ten years of us not talking, were you by any chance on your path to becoming a drunkard?" You lean back against the wall behind you, getting more comfortable in the window nook.

"You think your absence affected me that much?" He asks, handing you back the bottle. You feel a twist in your stomach, both from the thought of drinking the disgusting liquid again and at his words.

You take a sip, this time it goes down more smoothly, but you still show clear displeasure at the taste. "I didn't say that."

"You thought it, I bet." He dismisses your words and you continue to pass the bottle back and forth.

"I didn't mean it like that." You begin to say, the warmth of the rum you're drinking beginning to numb your senses and quiet your thoughts. "I just... Well it's whatever, you'll twist my words no matter what I say."

"Me? Twist your words?" He asks, his voice slightly higher in pitch, "My Earis, I have never twisted your words." He leans against the opposite wall, getting more comfortable as well.

The room is quiet and dark, the only light streaming into it being from the moon, right onto the two of you, as you sit by the window. After a while of back and forth bickering and drinking, you take the last sip, the bottle halfway gone and you shake your head as you hand it back to him. "Yeah, that's enough of that. Still tastes like death."

He laughs in return and takes one more sip in solidarity. He puts the bottle down somewhere on the floor and smiles, his cheeks softly flushed from the spirit. You smile at him, not feeling fully in control over your own face. "Has this satisfied your need for sentimentality?"

"Oh, yes. Greatly." He smiles back and leans forward, away from the wall. He stands up, turning to you. Then, he extends his hand to you. "A final dance, perhaps? Before I kick you out of the castle tomorrow."

You scoff and look at his hand, a smile still playing on your face, "What happened to sticking to our 'roots', Sarl Zaros?"

"The rum was a revisiting of our roots." He takes your hand without you even reaching out for his, pulling you up. "This dance will be the celebration."

Zaros is clearly at least tipsy, you can tell. His words aren't as sharpened or thought-out. You let out a giggle, for the first time in a while. "You offer a celebration and then make said celebration dancing with no music?"

He places his hand on your hip, while the other hand holds your own up. "I can sing." He says very seriously.

"I'd rather not hear it." You smile, not being able to contain yourself. Everything seems slightly more humorous when you're drunk.

"Then I shall hum." And without further talking, Zaros begins to move you both, dancing as if you were back in the ballroom, except instead of the usual string and piano combination to accompany you, you have Zaros humming something that almost sounds like a lullaby.

You laugh while you both dance around in front of the window, moonlighting spilling over you. "Is that a lullaby?" You ask between your laughs.

"Mhm." He hums, "It was the first thing at the top of my head. I apologize if it doesn't suit your tastes, my Earis."

You two spin and circle around the small moonlit spot in his room, both of you seemingly more at ease than ever before during the trials. The thought of tomorrow's victory or loss forgotten in the bottle of rum and the hum of Zaros's voice, you let yourself reminisce about the night back at the academy.

You feel Zaros's grip on your waist slightly tighten and you rest your head on his shoulder, the liquor tearing down any barriers inside you, letting you act on impulse and first feelings.

"Will you actually throw me out of the castle if you win?" You whisper against his shoulder and he stops his movements, pulling back from you, so he can look at you.

"Is that what you're worried about?" His voice is low, almost a whisper. You feel the rum on his breath, the spirit mixing with his own scent of parchment from old books and something faintly herbal.

You search his face for any mockery but don't find what you're looking for. "No. Not really."

His green eyes rake over your face, as if memorizing every detail of it. "Well, I won't do that, for your information."

"Zaros, how much do you actually remember from that night back at the academy?" You whisper, your questions and pent up curiosity not being held back by anything. Every truth, every question is right at the tip of your tongue tonight, it seems.

He raises his brow at your question. "My memory is as good as ever, my Earis."

You scoff. "Yes, I know, but we were drunk back then, I know alcohol can mess with your recollection of things."

"I remember everything clearly." He responds without hesitation and it ignites something inside you, something you had buried ever since that night.

His hand moves from yours and comes up to cup your face, his breathing noticeably heavier than before.

You look at him, dazed, slightly confused at his action but also feeling a sense of anticipation. Your bodies grow closer to one another's and now you feel his breath on your own lips. "Is this the celebration part or us staying true to our roots?" You whisper.

He lets out a small breath of a laugh, closing his eyes to collect his thoughts momentarily. "Neither. Both." He breathes.

Your head is reeling with your own conflicting thoughts. He is so warm, the alcohol makes you so nice. But you wonder how it will be tomorrow, when you'll be seconds away from the result of your ongoing battle for the throne to be announced. You close your eyes too.

"What are you thinking about, Earis?" He asks and you meet his gaze.

"The past. Tomorrow. Everything." You respond, unsure of your own thoughts.

His hand that rests on your waist moves upwards and towards your back, holding you closer. "What about now? The present?"

Your breathing syncs with his as you both stand intertwined in the middle of his room. You let out a shaky breath and your own hands find their way to cup the sides of his face, your thumbs running over his cheeks.

"I wanted to kiss you that night." It's as if something inside him snaps and he lets out a weak laugh at his own unexpected confession, leaning into your touch as much as physically possible by now. "It's pointless to think about it now, I realize. You probably think me a fool, but I out of everything I haven't done in my life, that... I regret most."

Your breath hitches at his words and without thinking you respond. "I don't." You pause and then continue, "I don't think it's foolish. I think about it too."

"Earis." His voice is a mix of a desperate plea and a question. "Let me hold you tonight, just for tonight. Forget the past, forget tomorrow." He whispers, his green eyes filled with emotion you don't usually see. "Can I kiss you?"

Your head spins from his question and the rum, and before he can say anything else, you pull him in, your lips crashing against his in a messy, drunken kiss. His hand at your back clutches at the fabric of your gown, desperately trying to pull you closer even if it isn't technically possible anymore.

Your hands move to the sides of his neck, softly caressing the soft, warm skin, wanting to feel every part of it. A burning need to feel more of him overwhelms you and your hands move lower, at the collar of his beautiful red coat. He hums into the searing kiss and pulls you back with him and with a few steps you reach the edge of his bed. He breaks the kiss and sits down, scooting back and without needing an invitation, you crawl onto the soft cover of his bed, putting your thigh over his hips, settling down onto his lap.

"I wish I could've held you closer." He whispers as you lean above him, moonlight pooling around your frames on the bed, casting long shadows of you.

"Hold me as close as you can tonight." You whisper, leaning down towards him.

"Just for tonight?" He asks and your breathing stops for a moment before you kiss him again.

"Tonight." You whisper between the kiss and then his hand finds the back of your head. No more words are said between you two as he pulls you back, seemingly not wanting your lips to ever leave his. He clings onto you as you do to him, and just for tonight, you forget the past and forget the future, letting only the shadows and the pale light bear your unspoken promise of keeping this a secret. Just tonight, just now.

[azureumm]

Zaros x Earis: A Series of Unfortunate Encounters (5.5k words)

Here, have this angsty Zaros and Earis fic, cuz I love my husband dearly but I also cannot be happy so....

CW: Character death (not Zaros or Earis dw), intrusive thoughts and thoughts of self harm/su!cide, grief, lots of verbal fighting, possibly ooc Zaros (I dunno, I tried to write him as accurately as possible), no happy ending or no ending really, because I'm not sure if I will continue this lol.

AN: This has not been proofread by anyone and english isn't my native language, so if you see any mistakes, feel free to point them out. (Just be kind pls >.<) Started writing this at like 1AM and safe to say, I did not get much sleep....

Also if anyone is interested the song I played on repeat while writing this was Zjerm by Shkodra Elektronike (Eurovision got the best of me </3) The words are not very on par with the plot but it has the vibe I'd give Zaros and Earis tbh.

***

Silence that was interrupted by the loud patter of fresh, relentless rain outside the castle windows filled the old library. The same library you had immersed yourself in all your years growing up. It always smelled of oak and old parchment, the scent of books and the carefully crafted shelves they sat in. It was untouched by most besides you for the most part.

Up on the second floor behind the last dark oak shelf, stacked full of old folk tales no one bothered to look for, lost to the relevance of modern tradition and gods, was a window. No one came to the library often, let alone this lone corner of it, so over the years you had made it your sanctuary.

It served as a place of refuge from the clutter, insubstantial chatter and gossip of the rest of the nobles. You always sat there, behind the shelf on a chair you had carried up there years ago, as you had gotten tired of sitting on the hard floor for so long.

Usually, it was the perfect place where you could drift away into your thoughts. Sometimes you weren't sure if they even were yours, as you were certain you didn't actually want to open the old, dusted window and leap out into the unforgiving ground all the way down. But yet, the thoughts came and went, and you spent your days gazing out the window or buried yourself into the old folk tales, turning off your mind and leaving the rest of the world shut out. However, today was different.

You had never enjoyed rain, having lived all your life inside the confined walls of the glamorous palace, the smell of fresh earth meeting the water from the open skies was a smell you hadn't gotten used to. You didn't meddle in the garden, didn't need to get familiar with dirt beneath your nails, nor the smell of it.

But today, all you were longing to do was to walk out into the harsh, pouring rain and walk off far away, somewhere into the distance that led nowhere. And no book, no amount of trying to disconnect the brain from the flesh was enough to help.

The flags were hung at half mast today, a sign of mourning and grief. The whole castle was quieter than ever, even the city outside seemed to be holding its breath, looking more like a ghost town than the lively home you once knew. Home was a loose description, as it was more like a house you were promised to command. But that didn't matter, none of it mattered any longer, because the Queen was dead and with her, she had taken your mother.

***

You had know of her illness. An old hag from overseas had come to visit multiple times, never bearing good news. How you hated the visits. The Queen never let anyone but the old, wrinkled woman into her chambers those days she was there. You tried listening in, but they spoke so quietly and the doors of your mother's chambers were just too thick to get a clear understanding of what they were saying.

The Queen never shared the news willingly, but when you asked, she said it had to do with her memories. You weren't sure what she meant, and what it would mean. But when you returned home after the third trial away from home with Zaros, you were met with your maid, silent as you had never seen her. Without saying a word, she led you to your mother's chamber where the old hag leaned over her, giving her a cup of something so potent, that the whole room smelled of Zaros's bag full of herbal medicine he had packed.

The Queen laid in her bed, drinking the strange smelling liquid. When she looked your way, she didn't smile, didn't even greet you. She turned to the old woman and whispered something you weren't sure you heard right and the woman whispered back the words "Your daughter, your grace."

You couldn't believe it, in fact, you couldn't even begin to process the meaning behind it all. All you could feel was anger. How could your own mother just forget you? How had she been fine just a month ago before you went away and suddenly be bedridden and sick to the point of not recognizing her own child?

Later, when it was already too late to swallow back your anger, the foreign woman held your hand in her wrinkled and calloused hands, saying words of equally foreign prayer and condolences. You found out whatever had plagued your mother had taken over her mind so much and had weakened her body in the matter of months. She had been burning up for those last days, her memories being eaten away by an unknown, unruly decease and no doctor could help. All of it was futile and all you could do was watch her be placed in the ground next to your brother you never knew.

The trials were of course put on hold, and in those days, when everything had blurred together in the shock and uncertainty of it all, you had heard nothing of anything. You had avoided everyone and anything that would make you feel something, make you remember that this was real. You kept your carefully crafted mask of proper royal appearance tightly over everything else that was pushing you down. But it changed nothing, the queen was still dead and the mourning process had begun, rendering everything else paused until it was polite to start it back up again.

But you weren't sure you could. Sitting here ,in what was once your sanctuary, you found yourself and your thoughts uncontrollable. It felt like every ounce of your own power had been drained from your limbs, the reigns of control stripped from you. All you could do was sit back and watch as your life fell apart around you, your feelings festering right beneath the surface of the complete silence above.

***

Zaros had tried to talk to you. Somewhere in the hallways, between the people at the funeral ceremony, somewhere you couldn't really recall. You didn't remember his words or his voice, but you did remember the need to get away. Not just from him but everyone. So you didn't know his whereabouts, didn't bother looking, didn't care to even care.

You sat in your corner day after day, your chambers resembling your mother's too much. Sometimes you slept in that hard wooden chair, not wanting to move. Your maid brought food but after a while she started leaving it on the first floor table in the middle of the library as per your request. You didn't want to see anyone, hear anyone speak or pity you.

As you stared out the window into the dark clouds gathering and pouring rain upon the earth, you didn't notice the creak of the door or the footsteps approaching. Only when you heard the velvety voice that usually spat insult after insult did you realize Zaros had found your corner of silence.

"Your maid told me where you've been staying." He said, his voice lacking the usual bite or irony. You looked at him briefly and then back out the window, contemplating if you should say anything at all.

"Have you slept at all?" He questioned, his hand resting against the side of the old shelf, his stance lacking the usual confidence and poise that he carried himself with.

"Take a wild guess." You murmured as you continued to focus on the droplets dripping down the glass panes of the window.

There was a moment of silence. It was deafening, and it seemed like both you and Zaros were holding your breath, unsure what to say.

"She was a great-" He started and you turned your head towards him sharply, giving him a glare that said more than a thousand words could.

"Don't you dare, Zaros. You do not get to tell me what my mother was or wasn't." Your words were filled with anger and something resembling disbelief, "You did not know her."

Zaros shifted slightly, his shoulders tensing. He, like the rest of the residents, was wearing black. His usual, detailed tunic switched out for a simple, beaded one, making his hair look unusually light with the background it provided.

"You're right, I did not know her as your mother. Just as a very respectable and strong woman." He said his words anyway, as he always did, speaking without holding back. Gods, you prayed for a day Zaros would learn to hold his tongue.

"Why have you come here? Has a week been enough for your polite mourning and respect to fall?" You asked him, not even sure what you were saying or what the meaning behind your words was. You were just angry, "Did you think enough time has passed so you can torment me with your unwarranted life lessons again?"

Zaros's expression shifted to one of frustration and confusion. He stood up straight, removing his hand from the shelf.

"Is that what you think I'm doing?" He asks, sounding almost offended, "Is it really that hard to believe that I've come here to check on how you're fairing with all of this?"

"Yes, actually, it is," You respond curtly, "It's hard to believe much right now so why don't you piss off."

Zaros closed his eyes momentarily, running his hand over his face in mild frustration and sighed. Then, he looked at you again, his tone softer again, "Look, Earis, I understand your disdain for company at this time, especially mine, but everyone is worried," He paused mid-sentence, thinking his words over, "I'm worried. About you and your absence."

A small, cold laugh escaped your lips before you could think it through, "I have a whole three weeks left of mourning to do before we get back to our usual schedule. I think you and the others will survive that long without my presence." You said, words sharp and foreign even to you.

"Earis." He said, stepping closer to where you were sitting.

"What, Zaros?!" You snapped, feeling cornered, whatever was bubbling down beneath threatening to escape, "What do you want from me? I've had enough of the condolences and prayers, I don't need more, certainly not from a leech like you." You stand up, your words falling from your tongue before you can process them, your eyes welling up tears you couldn't bear to let loose.

Zaros's eyes harden at the cruel words but he stays standing still and calm, not moving an inch, "You can run from what has occurred as much as you want, my Earis, but it will catch up eventually."

"Why do you always feel like you have the right to lecture me about everything?" You ask him, voice raised, words trembling ever so slightly as you step closer, "I never asked for you to teach me how to live, never asked you to figure me out, why must you insist on continuing this?!" You push his chest, making him waver slightly, "Why must you do this, why are you always finding ways to crawl under my skin, can't you see I wish to be alone?" You push harder, your eyes blurring slightly as your voice gets louder and more unsteady.

Zaros doesn't mutter a word as you repeatedly try to achieve something between a push and a hit to his chest, before he reaches out to hold your wrists softly.

"Screw you, screw this, I'm done, I'm..." Hot, salty tears well over the already hot skin of your face, your breathing uncontrollable. You try to pull your hands back, to push Zaros again but they stay in place. You're unsure of what you're doing. You feel his gaze on you, piercing and invasive, making you feel small as you break out into sobs.

"Please leave." You manage to say as your hands fall onto his shoulders, "Please, just go." You plead with him, but your hands grip onto the thick fabric of his black tunic as your head leans forward, your forehead touching his chest.

Zaros's hands are still wrapped around your wrists, holding you in place as you crumble beneath his presence, his words, his gaze. It's all too much, the feelings you've been pushing down are breaking through every layer of defense you've built, and you hate that all it took to crumble and crush them was for him to say something.

Your sobs fill the empty library, the sound of rain outside reminding yourself of your own tears as they fall and land on the floor beneath you that doesn't feel all that stable anymore . You feel Zaros's hands free your wrists and they snake around your body, one hand resting on the back of your head as he pulls you in. And you let him. Just this once, you think, and then you let yourself come apart at the seams, putting your arms around his torso as your head leans against his shoulder.

He doesn't say a word, his silence more comfort than anything anyone could say. His hand runs over your disheveled hair, a slow, caring motion that leaves you feeling sick and safe at the same time. The absurdity of Zaros being the one to give you comfort seems laughable but right this moment, you cannot bring yourself to laugh, so you just cry until there is no more strength left in you to do so.

***

Days drag and fly by simultaneously. You don't sit in the corner of the library any longer, no longer feeling like it is the sanctuary you once made for yourself. Instead, you find yourself wandering through the empty, dark halls of the castle late at night. You roam them as if you're a spirit haunting the cold stone build with indifference. You think of nothing as you do, just walking and stopping to look out the windows at the moonlit garden or the city where thousands of small lights are visible from torches or windows of some houses.

Sometimes you make your way to the balcony and look over the city even closer. When you're there, you recall the countless bitter conversations you've had with Zaros there. And the sweeter conversations with your mother on Iva's love of the Ninth, during the couple of hours she could make for you. You don't recall what you've discussed with her, you just remember her smile and tired eyes as she listens and nods to your words, and in return talks only about what her duties have entailed for the day.

You shiver from the cold breeze that catches your hair. And maybe the memories too. The balcony door moves behind you, shuffling steps approaching.

You look back and see the same person as always, probably the only person you're willing to see at this time and place now.

"Thought you were a ghost for a second," Zaros says as he walks up next to you, placing his hands on the marble railings.

You give his comment a small smile, looking out at the city, "You're not looking too lively yourself."

Zaros chuckles momentarily, shaking his head, his long, blond hair moving in the steady stream of air. The leaves of trees bellow rustle from it too, a quiet and steady ambiance settling over you.

Things have felt more quiet since the encounter in the library. The two of you meet more often, mostly at night or by the fireplace in the library. Sometimes you talk, sometimes you don't, letting the silence envelop you both into a strange bubble of comfort.

Tonight, Zaros seems to be in a chattier mood. And you're not opposed to talking either. In fact, you've come to enjoy the chats you share, even the brief check-ins he sometimes provides.

"The city lights at night make me think of fireflies from this distance." He nods towards the city bellow, "Reminds me that there are more people that are restless and unable to find proper solitude in sleep at night."

You hum in response, "Maybe they just like to sleep with a light by their side." You offer up a theory, a small hint of irony coming through your words. He smiles and looks to you, "Right, cannot forget about the poor souls scared of the dark. They keep the city alive, after all."

You study his face, the moonlight washing over him, casting shadows over one side of his face. His hair isn't made like it usually is during the day. It's long and smooth, only slightly frizzed up from the wind and the damp night air.

"Maybe we should try it out. Sleeping with a light by the bed. Maybe those people have uncovered the secret to warding off sleepless nights." You say, continuing the mindless conversation.

He chuckles again, the sound deep and genuine, "That might be it. But I think there are more guaranteed ways of fighting restlessness." He responds.

"What, are you going to knock me out?"

He laughs and shakes his head, "No..." He pauses before adding more to the idea, "Maybe as a last resort."

You feign offense at his words but your smile doesn't leave your face.

After a while, he speaks again, "If it's sleep you're after, there are some teas that can do the trick. My mother used to make me herbal teas when I couldn't sleep as a child. They tasted absolutely vile, but they sent me right to sleep," Zaros looks back at the city as he recalls the memory.

"Might be a bit too much to handle for a noble with distinguished tastes, such as yourself." He throws you a playful jab, and you scoff, "My tastes are normal, it's you here who has a strange palette."

"I disagree. I prefer to think of it as a willingness to try anything even once. My appreciation for different cultural foods is a carefully crafted one." He remarks, his usual, knowing tone returning, "It's appreciation for all the different cultures the world has to offer. I think it's so beautiful that all the different realms have such unique and historical dishes to offer."

You turn away, looking back out into the city, thinking over his words quietly.

"I'm assuming you haven't had many chances to experience them. From what you've told me of your travels." He adds, more softly this time.

You look further to the horizon beyond the city, where it's dark and only the silhouette of the distant trees can be made out, "Yes, I guess not."

You feel his eyes on you as he continues, "Well, I recommend you try some time."

"You know I can't." Your voice comes out harsher than intended. The conversation dies down.

"Soon enough they'll put the flags back up, people will stop pretending like her death affected them and we'll go back to finishing the trials. Whatever you're thinking of is a distant delusion." You move back from the railings of the balcony, slowly making your way back inside. Zaros follows after a moment of contemplation.

"Rulers aren't forbidden to leave the castle. It's not a delusion, just a suggestion." He follows you down the hallway, "Isn't that what you always wanted? Always spoke about? What happened to your 'delusions' of travel? What of your wish to see Argenfell?" He questioned and your thoughts began to race again.

You continued to walk down the hallway, not responding and Zaros only continued to push, "You still haven't seen the Mirror Mountain, have you? Why give up so easily?"

"Because that was then. Then is not now, this is all that I know!" You turn around and stop to face him, "Stop bringing up irrelevant things. I was a child who knew nothing of duty and responsibility then. The queen is dead, if I lose the trials, I have nothing left, don't you understand that? What travel, Zaros? Where could I possibly travel to that is far enough to get away from the shame of losing my lineage and the shame of being a disgrace to my own dead mother? Even the Mirror Mountain won't hide me from it."

Heavy, thick silence fills the hallway when you're done. Zaros stares at you, slightly startled, but he quickly regains his composure, walking towards you, "What shame, Earis? The trials haven't even concluded yet, and you're already thinking of your imagined loss."

"Because I'm not concluding the trials" You say after a moment, more quiet now, almost a whisper. A long quiet pause lingers again, Zaros's tense stance melting into something more akin to disbelief or a realization.

"What do you mean, you're not concluding them, Earis?" He asks, his words confused but said with vigor, demanding an answer.

"I'm not going to do it. I'm stepping down." The admission hangs in the air, your head spinning as you say the words out loud. Zaros laughs, but it's cold and breathy, disbelief painted all over his face.

"So what will you do then, hm? You're stepping down from the throne and you're not going to travel, so what? What exactly is the plan here?" He asks, frustrated and confused.

You stare at him, not knowing what answer to give. You haven't thought about it much. You had made the decision in your head the day your mother died but you weren't sure what it meant for you. A part of you wanted to just run off somewhere, change who you are and live off in a field or a forest. But you weren't accustomed to that, that's now how you were taught and raised.

So you shrugged, "There is no plan. I just refuse to... I don't know."

"Don't know what?" He steps closer as you take a few steps back, turning away and slowly walking forward. The hallway seems uneven, like your mind is twisting and turning your vision, "You're serious?" Zaros follows you once more.

"I have nothing left here." You say bluntly, feeling a headache coming on. You wonder why couldn't Zaros just keep this as another night of mindless words and thoughts.

"What about me?" He suddenly asks, stopping somewhere behind you. You freeze up too, not looking back.

Turning your head to the side, you glance at the cold wall of the hallway, not daring to look back at him, fearing you'll find something you don't think you want to know. Something you don't wish to know.

"What about you?" You ask, voice quiet and tired.

He stays in place, not moving, his hands clenching at his sides before he opens them up to redirect his emotions, "You can't outrun yourself, Earis. As you said, no matter where you go, your knowledge will always stay. You can't just disappear."

Your voice stays quiet and filled with defeat "Can't you just be happy that you're going to win?" You turn your head back to face the empty hallway in front of you, mind reeling with uncertainty, "Why are you so insistent of trying to make me continue this?"

He opens his mouth to speak but no words come out. Zaros runs a hand through his hair, trying to think of a solid reason he's doing this. You stepping down means his victory and triumph, it means he's the ruler of Serulla. But something within him twists at the thought of your words.

"Goodnight, Zaros." You said with no further waiting and walked forward, leaving him standing in the dark hallway.

***

Just one more week left of polite mourning. One more week until things return to normal pace, normal clutter, normal noise once more.

You sat by your desk, a candle dimly lit as you filled page after page with your thoughts. Some were simple complaints of the weather, and some ran deeper, as if you were wounding the parchment you wrote on like the events of your years had wounded you.

Your thoughts were once again interrupted by yet another unasked intrusion, a knock on your door, heavy but not hurried. You contemplated whether or not you wanted to open it, not wanting to see your maid and her endlessly worried expression. After a long pause, the knock came again and you sighed, putting down your pen and making your way to the door.

When you opened it, you were not met with the face of your maid, instead greeted by the same blond man that had seemingly made it his life mission to harass what little peace you had remaining.

"Good evening, my Earis." He greeted more politely than you were expecting.

"Good evenings, Sarl Zaros." You returned the polite tone, watching his face for any reactions but none came, "What do you need from me at this hour?"

"May I come inside?" He queried and you noticed he held a small, leather bound notebook in his hand. You stepped aside slightly, letting him enter your dimly lit room. As you closed the door, you turned to him.

"So, what is this? Another lecture then?" You asked with cold irony.

He shook his head, a weak smile painting his lips, "No, no..." He looked down at the notebook he was holding, "I don't lecture you. I simply point out the things you don't see in yourself. Like a mirror you refuse to look at."

You scoffed at his words, crossing your arms defensively, "If I needed self-reflection and advice I'd go to my shrink. You can stop doing that."

Zaros looked up at you, his eyebrow raising slightly, "Shrink?"

"Yes, yes, the Earis of Serulla has a shrink, everyone. Cat's out of the bag, now what do you want?" You walked past him to your desk and closed your journal, remembering that it was still open.

He stared momentarily, then shook his head once more, "I'm not here for that. I... wrote something for you." He seems almost hesitant in admitting his intentions.

You look back, momentarily taken aback, "Wrote what?" You question, turning around and leaning back against your desk, hands crossed across your chest.

"It's a travel guide. Or an escape plan. Call it as you wish but..." He turns the small book in his hand, "I've written down all the places I've been to that I think you'd enjoy. The final destination is Argenfell, if that's somewhere you wish to stay. It's a lovely place, I think it would suit your tastes just fine. I've written down native herbs and plants to each place that are useful too, in case you're in need of aid on your travels."

You stand, leaned against the desk and your hands slowly fall to your sides.

"A travel guide?" You laugh slightly, but it doesn't seem very humorous, "What are you on about?"

Zaros expression doesn't change, he seems more determined than you've seen him in a long time. He steps forward, "I'm serious, Earis. If you're serious about not competing for the throne, you need a plan of action, no? If... you're serious, you should at the least explore what the world has to offer. There is so much uncovered beauty and surprise that you haven't seen from your walls."

You frown slightly at the reminder of your life-long confines of living in the castle but you don't interrupt.

"I've just written down a route I'd go if I had the opportunity right now. You deserve to see the world and to meet people who don't cater their opinions to yours when seeing your royal crest." Zaros continues his rambling and you feel the air get heavy with your own overwhelming, unknown feelings. Maybe it's gratitude, maybe it's shock of being so seen after years of just being heard. Zaros always has a way to make you crumble and yet, you've never gotten used to it.

"Why?" Is all you manage to ask.

He looks at you as if looking at an old friend or a hurt child, "I care for you. I can't bear the thought of you roaming the world like you roam the halls at night, like a ghost with no life and no purpose."

"Care for me?" You let out a chuckle once more, standing up from the edge of the desk, "What are you playing at?"

He frowns now, the hand holding the book clenching it harder at his side, "Why must you always think everyone has a secret agenda against you? Is it so hard to believe I care for you?"

"Yes, Zaros, quite easy to believe that, actually." You step forward, approaching him, "Ever since coming here, all you've done is spit word after word of displeasure at every single thing I say or do, as if you know me."

"I do know you-" He fires back, but you cut him off, "You knew me, Zaros. That is not the same as knowing me now."

"It's not my fault hard truths are hard to swallow for you, my Earis. I've never insulted you, nor have I said any of my observations unfairly, I'm simply the only one who dares to point them out loud." He stands few feet away from you, his voice morphing into the usual tone you recognize best.

"Then what about the letter, Zaros??" You snap, bringing up the same old tired question and something within him visibly switches. Like a wave, anger and sadness washes over him and he steps closer, his voice raised, "You and that goddamn letter, what must I do to make you realize I never wrote it?!"

He stares into your eyes, searching for any sign of change in your demeanor, "How can you possibly think so little of me that you truly cannot believe that I never, ever would say that?" His voice breaks ever so slightly and you see his eyes shift from anger to sadness, "I would've... I would've never done that to you, not then, not now, I could never hate you or ever think of using you. We swore, back at the academy to be honest, you know this, so why have I been the only one keeping the promise?"

His words come flowing out of his mouth like a fountain, and you cannot get a word in. Your expression shifts into surprise, never having seen Zaros like this, "I cared for you even then, more than I've ever cared for anyone else. I-" He cuts himself off, stepping back and swiftly turning around as he runs a hand over his face.

You stand behind him, stunned and unsure what to do, your own thoughts and words sizzling at the tip of your tongue.

"It really wasn't you?" Is all you manage to ask, your voice softer and quieter than intended.

"Of course not!" He turns back facing you, his eyes slightly watery, "I truly thought when we said we'd be in each other's lives forever, that you meant it. But then you left without ever giving me the chance to defend myself."

"What was I supposed to do, Zaros?! Do you realize how hurtful it is to be betrayed by someone you considered that close?" You ask, your own voice not hiding the emotions and before you can take it back, you realize the mistake in your words.

Zaros lets out a shaky breath of disbelief, "Oh, Earis, I know very well how it feels to be betrayed like that." He looks at the book in his hands, "I really... I really thought I lo-"

"Don't," You whisper trying to stop his words, as if hearing them will break down the last defenses you had left, "Please, just... don't."

Zaros let out a cold chuckle, looking straight at you now, "As I said, my Earis, you cannot outrun yourself. But if you attempt to, it's better to have a plan." He walks up to you, taking your hand and you feel a shiver run through you as he does. He places the small leather-bound book into your hand and his eyes search your face for something he seemingly doesn't find.

"I will not bother you any longer, if that's how you wish for this to be." He whispered and then stepped away, making his way to the door. As he opened it, he looked back slightly, looking as if he wanted to add something, but then he stopped himself, and exited your chambers.

As soon as he left, all your held back emotions overcame you, and you broke into a sob, finding the chair by your desk. Tears poured from your eyes and you could feel your surroundings spin along with your thoughts. You held the small book in your hands as if it was the last anchor you could find now. It was all too much to bear and you didn't know what to do with it all anymore, so you just sobbed, hoping your doors of your room were just as thick as the doors of your mother's chambers, so they'd muffle the pathetic cries and tears you shed over something you couldn't even put a name to.