lions do not lie beside lambs
⤷ synopsis: in which a lion teaches you why warmth is never safety.
red dividers: @hyuneskkami
pairing: ambessa (arcane) x fem!reader
cw: angst (no happy ending), betrayal, death (mentioned but not described), dark themes(i tried, okay??), manipulation (emotional and political), implied age gap (adult x older adult), violence (aftermath), destruction of kingdom, power imbalance
the smoke clings to your clothes like memory.
the throne room—what’s left of it—groans under its own bones. splintered marble. banners half-burnt. the gold, the glint that once warmed these halls is suffocating under soot.
you step over the shattered crest of your house and try not to look at the bodies.
maybe you simply handed her the torch.
a silhouette stands where sunlight once cut through stained glass. broad shoulders, fur-lined armor, braids pulled back tight against her scalp, gold catching the dim light like a predator’s quiet threat.
ambessa medarda turns to you as though you’re arriving late to a meeting she scheduled.
“you stand in the ruins as if surprise could save you,” she says, voice low, almost indulgent. “power demands a spine of iron. sentiment only softens the blade before it slips.”
your heart shouldn’t leap at the sound of her.
but it does, traitor that it is.
she steps closer. the clink of her armor echoes off what used to be your council chamber.
“you welcomed me into these halls,” ambessa continues, gaze sweeping over the destruction with polite disinterest. “you offered trust. hospitality. affection, even.”
her eyes land on you. “costly gifts for someone in your position.”
you swallow hard. you don’t speak. you don’t dare.
outside, screams bleed into the wind—your people, your soldiers, the ones who believed you could keep them safe. the ones who saw the way you lingered by ambessa’s hand, the way your eyes softened when hers never did.
shadows stir at the corner of your vision—faces from your past drifting through the smoke. your mother’s steady disapproval, tutors who taught you strategy you never practiced, every advisor who warned you that lions do not lie beside lambs unless they are hungry.
and yet you had walked willingly into the lion’s open mouth.
ambessa watches the tremor in your breath, and something like amusement flickers over her mouth.
“do not misunderstand,” she says. “you were...pleasant. admirable, even.”
a slow tilt of her head. “but kingdoms are built on opportunity. and you, my dear, presented yourself with the eagerness of someone hoping to be chosen.”
the words strike deeper than any spear.
the sting of betrayal nestles against the bruise of your own foolish hope.
you force your voice out, cracked and small. “so this was always your plan?”
ambessa circles you—not like a predator, but like a general surveying territory already won.
“plans bend to necessity,” she murmurs. “but your heart was the easiest territory i have ever claimed. every gate swung wide the moment i smiled.”
a pause. “i merely crossed the threshold.”
your knees nearly buckle, but you refuse to fall. not in front of her.
ambessa notices. she always notices.
“stand tall,” she orders softly. “if this is to be your last day as ruler, let it not be said you collapsed before the end.”
there is no anger there. no regret. only inevitability.
somewhere outside, a final tower wails as it collapses—stone grinding against stone, mourning what once stood.
the smoke wraps itself around you again, heavy and bitter, as if trying to pull you down with the rest of your fallen home.
your throat tightens, but no tears come. there is nothing left soft enough to weep.
ambessa takes one last step toward you—close enough that her shadow consumes yours.
her voice lowers, rich and cruel and undeniably honest.
“i told you that strength commands loyalty. you sought loyalty from me…when all i ever offered was my ambition.”
she reaches out, not to comfort, but to tilt your chin up between two armored fingers.
“remember this moment,” she says. “your kingdom did not fall because you were weak, but because you loved where you should have ruled.”
walks toward the half-broken doors, leaving you in the smoke, in the ruin, in the absence she carved with precision.
your fate hangs by a thread—hers to sever, to spare, or to walk away from entirely.
her voice echoes down the corridor, steady as a war drum:
“grief is for bonds that were shared. you offered yours alone.”
leaving you with ash in your lungs, and the ruin she crafted settling around you.
an: hi 🧍 i got distracted from finishing my remaining kpdh drafts (even more so my etm drafts) but a friend of mine recently showed me the light (ambessa and sevika) so now my arcane hyperfixation is back. i wanted to try something different for this oneshot, i just hope i was able to capture ambessa's character well (enough).
tangentwithtanner
titsay
2087
