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is that not DARIUS AURELIUS ALARIC SKYWARDEN? i have seen them bearing the crest of VISSAI, their loyalty worn plain upon their garb. they are said to have lived for FORTY-EIGHT winters and are of the DRAGONRIDER folk, shaped by blood and custom alike. by birth, choice, or circumstance, they walk the path of a VISSAI'S CROWN PRINCE, a place they now hold in the world. those who speak of them name them both LOYAL and RESOURCEFUL, though not without flaw, for they are likewise AMBITIOUS and RASH.

look closer still, and you will find their tastes laid bare: BLOOD SPLATTERED OVER ROYAL GARB, CALLOUSED HANDS, SAND AND DIRT CRUSTED UNDER SHORT FINGERNAILS, GOLDEN DECOR IN THE FORM OF A PROUD DRAGON ON DARK LEATHER ARMOR. — small signs of who they truly are.

#liathtarpg ( intro )#pinned post.

@bastionandblade (as promised)

the royal gardens were quieter in the evenings, washed gold by the setting sun beneath the towering silhouette of regia ignis. somewhere beyond the stone paths and flowerbeds, seraphina prowled through the grass with alden’s dragon close behind her, the pair occasionally nudging shoulders or snapping playfully at one another beneath the cypress trees. every now and then one of them let out a low rumble that echoed softly through the gardens, content and unbothered in a way only dragons could be.

darius lay back in the grass nearby, one knee bent, chest still rising a little heavier after the spar they had finished not long ago. his training tunic clung damply to his skin and there was a fresh scrape along one forearm he had yet to clean, his armor discarded somewhere in the grass. “you’re still leaning too far into your left side during dives,” he muttered after a long stretch of comfortable silence, eyes fixed lazily on the dragons instead of alden. “not nearly as bad as you used to, but it’s there.” there was the faintest hint of amusement in his voice then. “seraphina notices it every time you fly together. she complains to me afterward like some old war commander judging recruits.”

at that, darius finally glanced toward him, the corners of his mouth twitching faintly upward. it was easier to be softer like this, sprawled out in the grass with sore muscles and no court officials lingering nearby. “you’ve gotten good, though,” he admitted quietly. “better than good.” his gaze drifted back toward the dragons for a moment before he added, almost reluctantly, “i don’t think half the riders raised in vissai could keep pace with you now.” then, after a brief pause, his expression sharpened with dry amusement. “don’t look so pleased with yourself. i still won.”

#bastionandblade #bastionandblade (001)#* . ⊹ ❨ ᴍᴇᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡɪɴɢꜱ ❩ ⌗ threads

shieldofvissai

it may have been unfair to darius to take advantage of their student- teacher relationship in such a way, but the subtle things he did to destabilize his pupil in private moments like this all served a purpose. the defense of vissai began and ended with them. should anyone interpret weakness coming from darius, it would mark the beginning of the end for their kingdom's supremacy in liathra.

and make no mistake, vissai was supreme in kurgan's eyes, which is why he had no choice but to ride the princes hard. especially darius. he was the crowned prince so he got even more flak than the others. so yes, he said things to create distance and make darius chase his approval. he took liberties in checking in on the prince's life. he went above and beyond to make sure darius was prepared for any challenges that may come his way once he ascends the throne. vissai only had one crowned prince and kurgan cared for him deeply.

"if you stay ready, you won't ever need to get ready. i thought i taught you to remain prepped at all times. those from the other kingdoms are not our friends. war is an inevitability. remember that." he could find a teaching moment in any interaction, and though he may have sounded harsh, it always came from a place of care. kurgan was happy to see darius again after so long. "well, you performed adequately when i wasn't watching. now that you'll have time to get your head on straight, tomorrow's bouts should be even more entertaining for me. unless you choke like you always do. you have a bad habit of tightening up at the most critical moments. you need to remember to stay loose."

naturally, kurgan had no way of knowing that dari's combat performance tended to suffer when he observed nor could he begin to understand why that was the case to begin with, but watching the prince use all the skills he'd been taught over the years always excites the master of war. "you'll learn with age that taking your time is a privilge for those who know how to maintain control. as busy as my duties keeps me, it is nice to know i will be spending a lot of time teaching you new things once we return home."

kurgan's expression is light and pleased as he watches dari pour some wine. "there's a fine line between prudence and obstinance, your highness. claiming that you're being cautious doesn't hold water when you look at your track record. multiple sutable matches were made and you rejected them all. it's not a good look," kurgan chided as he lifts the wine to his mouth and drank. "this isn't your father's concern, darius. it's mine. and my concern is not for you, but for the future of the kingdom you hope to one day rule."

the crowned prince was nearing his fiftieth name day. going into that age with neither a spouse nor a child would signal to liathra that vissai was weak and had no future. relying on the second prince to act as a spare was completely unnecessary when the first prince was eligible and healthy. "the time has come and gone, meaning that this task is one you're woefully ill-prepared to handle. do not worry yourself darius, i will find you your match and you wiill be wed before your next birthday," he says matter-of-factly before smirking over the rim of his chalice. "And, if you need help remembering where you're supposed to stick your royal cock, I'd be happy to plan a demonstration. I respect the discipline you've had, but no one wants to serve a king who doesn't fuck. And Dari, your track record suggests you don't fuck. There's not a single rumor of some pretty, supple thing getting turned out by you floating around, and that's a problem."

heavensoared

that fine line between humility and knowing he was one of the finest fighters in liathra blurred at times, but darius took great care to keep it firmly in place. he would not follow in the footsteps of a mad king drunk on his own power. not that he possessed the same tendencies — or the same volatile magic, but he had been raised to carry pride with discipline, to embody vissai’s strength without letting it rot into arrogance. “you know i am always ready,” he muttered, the edge of defensiveness slipping through despite himself. he had thought his performance today proved as much, but if absolute, immediate destruction was what kurgan demanded, then he would give him that instead.

knowing kurgan was watching did far more to him than he cared to admit — and not all of it worked in his favor. under that gaze, he faltered in ways he otherwise never would. his movements sharpened too much, his thoughts crowded, his focus splintered beneath the weight of being seen. kurgan would notice every misstep, every imperfection. he always did. and later, he would dissect them with surgical precision. darius was not looking forward to that. and yet… more time with him meant more time with him. that alone was enough to stir something restless and unwelcome in his chest.

his head tilted slightly, confusion breaking through the tension. “you’re coming with us?” vissai? kurgan was returning with him? abandoning his travels for this? to teach him? the thought unsettled him more than it should have. “i don’t understand.”

he straightened subtly at the shift in topic, composure pulling back into place like armor. “if there had been a suitable match, sir, i would already be wed.” his gaze lowered, careful not to meet kurgan’s eyes for too long. it was not a lie. none of his father’s candidates had been suitable — young, beautiful, pliant. perfect, perhaps, for other princes of liathra. not for him.

the words that followed struck deeper than expected.

before his next birthday.

no.

the blood in his veins seemed to run cold, something tight and urgent coiling in his chest. “the throne will not be mine for years yet, sir kurgan. if not longer. there is no need to rush.” his voice remained controlled, but there was resistance in it now, quiet but unmistakable. he was standing his ground — even here, even now.

his body betrayed him regardless. heat crept along his skin, sweat gathering at his temples and palms, his mouth suddenly dry as desert sand. his heart hammered harder than it had in any arena that day. “i appreciate your concern,” he continued, more firmly now, “truly. but i do not require assistance in that matter. this is my duty — and my decision.” his jaw tightened faintly. “and i have no need for a… demonstration.” the words grew sharper before he could dull them.

“you assume i do not engage in …in physical relations, but you are mistaken. unlike my brothers, i simply see no need to make a spectacle of it.” his gaze flicked up briefly, something harder glinting beneath the surface. “a lesson i learned from you, if i recall correctly.” that edge — that bite — slipped further than he intended. “is this why you returned?” he pressed, quieter but no less cutting. “to ensure i mount some noble’s offspring and place a ring upon their finger?” his hands had curled into fists at his sides, tension coiled tight through his frame. this was not how he had imagined this reunion. not even close. and yet, a part of him knew he should have expected it. kurgan did not come back for him.

he came back for duty.

he always did.

“did it occur to you,” darius added, voice lower now, more controlled but no less pointed, “that perhaps you are looking in the wrong direction entirely? that the ‘pretty, supple things’ you expect me to favor… do not interest me at all?” silence lingered for a beat after that, the weight of his words settling between them.

then…

a breath.

regret followed swiftly behind it.

“…i apologize.” the words came quieter, measured, as he forced his hands to relax, fingers uncurling slowly at his sides. he shook his head once, grounding himself again. “i meant what i said, but the manner in which i said it was… unbecoming.” his composure slid back into place, though the tension beneath it remained. “if you truly believe i require your assistance, then so be it,” he added, more evenly. “but first, there are the games. i intend to win them.”

a brief pause, then—

“and i need to rinse.”

his gaze shifted, just slightly.

“unless you intend to instruct me on that as well.”

#shieldofvissai (001)#shieldofvissai #* . ⊹ ❨ ᴍᴇᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡɪɴɢꜱ ❩ ⌗ threads #i wouldlike to add that this is probs like #one of maybe 2 or 3 times tops dari raised his voice at kurgan hehe #2 of those 3 times have def been in his v short but spicy rebellious youth phase

@ravenscrownsandspears / elion

the noise of the solstice revelry swelled and broke like waves against the pavilion walls—laughter, music and the clatter of goblets, but darius had slipped away from it, drawn instead to the cooler hush just beyond the torchlight. the night air kissed his skin, carrying with it the distant hum of celebration softened into something almost gentle. he did not hear elion approach so much as feel him there, a presence familiar enough that it did not startle him. when darius turned, the tension he wore so carefully among the others eased slightly without permission, his expression softening in a way it rarely did in public. there was no ceremony between them, no need for titles or posturing, only the quiet understanding that had always existed, even when months or years lay between their meetings.

“it suits you,” darius murmured after a moment, his gaze flicking briefly toward the distant lights before settling back on him. he did not clarify whether he meant the festival, the crown or the cloth that clad him tonight, it was unnecessary. elion would understand. there was something achingly easy in standing beside him like this, shoulder to shoulder, as though the world expected nothing of them for once. yet the ease was threaded with something else too, something quieter and more fragile; the knowledge that this—this brief reprieve, this stolen softness—would not last beyond the games. darius found himself lingering in it anyway, selfish in a way he rarely allowed, letting the silence stretch without rushing to fill it.

for a little while, he permitted himself to simply exist there, not as vissai’s future king, but as someone who was seen without the crown first. the laughter from within rose again, brighter this time, but it felt distant, like it belonged to another life entirely. darius exhaled slowly, the sound almost lost to the night and let his shoulder brush lightly against elion’s in quiet acknowledgment—of their shared solitude, of the years between, of the certainty that no matter how infrequent these moments were, they would always return to one another just the same. “i reckon you've been well?”

#ravenscrownsandspears #ravenscrownsandspears (001)#* . ⊹ ❨ ᴍᴇᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡɪɴɢꜱ ❩ ⌗ threads

shieldofvissai

his presence would be felt throughout the tent beyond what imminated from his stiff, medium-armor clad form. he'd taken the time to poke around and take stock of the crowned prince's existence while he waited. kurgan may have had a talent for seeing hidden truths in the eyes of those he crossed blades with, but the only time he could experience his pupil's unguarded self were moments like these. his surprise attack had been successful.

"how arrogant you've grown to suggest i'd alter military movements just to see you, highness. can you attest that all of my communications to regia ignis have remained confeditinal? who is to say one of the other kingdoms haven't formulated a new surveillance technique? based on my own judgement, i thought it was best to redirect my convoy here. i would never risk vissai's safety on a whim."

as kurgan chided darius, his measured steps carried him forward and accented his points with each beat. "if you meant here as in your private tent, well i thought that'd be obvious. i go where i please and i have to speak to you about what's been happening between your royal thighs," he said, now standing chest to chest with darius, staring him down with a rather stern look as he allows his words to hang between them. of course, kurgan is also the first to crack a smile and start laughing, his arm rising so he could grip darius by the back of the head and fold him into an embrace.

"there he is, my boy! it's been too long darius. long enough for you to have forgotten my teachings. you took far too long to win. the only spectacle the people need to see is absolute battlefield dominance, you know." kurgan couldn't turn it off. even during a gesture of affection with his favorite prince, he was still finding ways to be a guiding force. he supposed if he was no longer needed, he'd have nothing to say.

kurgan ruffles dari's sweaty hair some more before holding him at arms length by the shoulders. he systematically looks over every inch of the crowned prince, first by grasping him by the chin. "you look well, healthy even. a good sign at least," kurgan commented, inspecting darius from every angle as he moved his head side to side before briefly rubbing a hand down his grime-stained tunic. "it was entertaining to watch your victories. even though they were expected."

he was aware his reprimands came far more frequently than any praise, but kurgan felt making darius earn every shred of approval he got would prevent him from growing entitled. plus, he simply enjoyed being around men who clambered for his attention, as students often did their teachers'. "so while you pour me some wine, you can tell me why such a handsome, accomplished prince can't seem to empty his balls as his kingdom requires. does little dari still need my help with everything?"

heavensoared

ever since he’d taken up the mantle of vissai’s renowned master of war, kurgan seemed to spend the majority of his time traveling. or at least more than he used to, back when the old knight had still been rooted in regia ignis — when his place had been at their side. at his side. training him. them. all of the princes, yes. all of them. he was in no way special, and that was… understandable.

darius owed him a great deal. everything, if he was being honest. kurgan had been a guiding force when the young crown prince had needed it most, shaping him into the fighter he was now — ruthless, precise, unyielding in the ring. “rest assured, i’d never assume you came all this way to watch me fight.” he allowed a faint, self-deprecating note to slip into his voice, turning away as he began setting aside the scattered pieces of his armor, each placed exactly where it belonged. “i know i wouldn’t.” the last piece settled with a quiet finality, a soft breath leaving him as he straightened. “if anyone can determine whether there is cause for concern, it would be you, sir kurgan.”

he looked up just in time to see him move.

and just as quickly, everything in him stilled.

there was no time to prepare for it — not for the sudden closing of distance, not for the familiarity of it. kurgan’s presence filled the space before anything else could, grounding and overwhelming all at once. darius’ breath caught, lips parting slightly, though this time it had little to do with surprise at his presence and far more to do with everything that followed. the remark drew heat to his face, sharp and immediate, but it barely had time to settle before he was pulled in.

the embrace.

it caught him off guard for only a heartbeat before he yielded to it completely, something soft and unguarded breaking through despite himself. his hands found purchase instinctively, holding on perhaps a touch too firmly, as if the moment might slip from him if he didn’t anchor it there.

my boy.

the words landed somewhere deep, somewhere dangerous. darius swallowed, his grip tightening for the briefest moment before he forced it to ease, though he didn’t pull away. he couldn’t — not immediately. he hadn’t realized how much he’d missed this, how much the absence had carved into something quiet within him. vissai had felt larger without him. emptier in ways he would never admit aloud. but he did not say that. he never would. “i suppose you’re right,” he murmured instead, voice steadier than he felt. “i could have ended it sooner.”

so he had been watching. the thought flickered through him, quick and sharp. when had he arrived? how much had he seen? and why — why hadn’t he said anything sooner? kurgan’s presence, his guidance… it was never unwelcome. never. even now. especially now. the moment passed too quickly, as it always did. it always had.

when kurgan pulled back, darius let him, though the absence of contact was immediate and noticeable in a way he carefully ignored. the inspection that followed should have been routine — it had happened countless times before — and yet it never failed to stir that same quiet tension beneath his skin. as if, one day, kurgan might look at him and find something lacking. something unworthy.

his chin lifted where guided, compliant without thought almost as if it came naturally to darius. little did kurgan know. “i’m glad you found it entertaining,” darius said, allowing the faintest hint of a smile to touch his mouth. “i’ll ensure the victories come with greater haste tomorrow.” it was as close to pride as he allowed himself in that moment — and even that was tempered. his attention followed as kurgan moved, the shift back into motion giving him something to anchor himself to again. something normal. something safe. “of course, sir.”

the flush returned at the bluntness of the words, creeping higher despite his efforts to remain composed, but darius turned smoothly toward the table, already reaching for the wine as though nothing had unsettled him at all. he poured with practiced precision, though the faint tension in his fingers made the act require more focus than it should have. “i’ve simply not found the right person,” he said, quieter now, measured and careful. “not for something of that weight. the throne demands more than… convenience.” he set the filled glass before him with deliberate care. “you taught me that much, at least.”

his gaze flicked up briefly, searching, before settling again.

“did my father put you up to this?” there was no real accusation in the question, only a quiet sort of knowing. it felt like something alaric would do — send someone else to press where he would not. darius straightened slightly, composure settling back into place like armor. “there is no cause for concern,” he continued, more firmly now. “i will choose a partner worthy of vissai when the time comes.”

when i decide.

the rest went unspoken, as it always did.

#shieldofvissai (001)#shieldofvissai #* . ⊹ ❨ ᴍᴇᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡɪɴɢꜱ ❩ ⌗ threads

@shieldofvissai

the solstice games was one of the biggest events of the year for everyone was attending them in the hopes of catching a glimpse of glory for themselves. darius intended to do the same, though he didn’t come here for a glimpse. he came to take it all home to vissai, to prove once more the prowess their kingdom stood for. and maybe to prove to himself that he was worth his people’s admiration, or his father’s pride, though he got the feeling he’d never quite reach that stage.

even without kurgan at the games, darius had been determined to bring his best performance into every single fight. nobody would be messing with vissai if they saw one of them take down every opponent set before him. and so he did.

the bouts came and went in a rhythm his body knew well — steel, movement, breath, impact. clean. controlled. deliberate. he fought like he had been trained to fight, like every correction ever carved into him had settled into bone and muscle alike. there were no wasted movements, no reckless overreach, no openings left behind for someone else to exploit. it was the kind of fighting that didn’t just win — it proved something, even if he couldn’t quite name what that something was.

by the time he left the arena, the sun dipping low and the noise fading into something distant, there was no gnawing dissatisfaction beneath his ribs. no replaying of errors, no quiet frustration clawing at the edges of his thoughts. he had done well. more than well. he knew it, even if part of him still searched for something more out of habit alone. he just wished kurgan could've seen him today, but he was no match for the master of war's duties.

darius pushed into his tent with a steady breath, already loosening the straps of his armor, movements easy and unhurried now that the weight of performance had slipped from his shoulders. dust and sand clung to him, sweat cooling against his skin, the familiar ache in his hands grounding in a way that felt earned rather than irritating. he made it only a step inside before he stopped.

it wasn’t obvious at first. nothing overturned, nothing visibly out of place. and yet something in him caught, sharp and immediate, instinct tightening before his mind had time to catch up. his posture straightened subtly, awareness sharpening as his gaze shifted across the space—and landed.

kurgan.

the reaction was instant and entirely unwelcome. something in his chest pulled tight, sudden and unguarded, before he forced it down just as quickly. for a brief moment, he simply looked at him, taking in the reality of it. he was here. why was he here?

then discipline snapped back into place.

darius stepped further inside, as though nothing had shifted, as though the air hadn’t changed the second he crossed the threshold. his fingers moved back to the straps at his chest, though slower now, suddenly aware of himself in a way he hadn’t been moments ago. “…you’re supposed to be gone,” he said, his voice lower than expected, roughened faintly by exertion and something he didn’t bother to name.

his grip tightened briefly on the leather before he forced it to loosen, continuing the motion with practiced ease. he didn’t look at him immediately this time, choosing instead to focus on removing the last pieces of armor, though his awareness stayed fixed, sharp and unwavering.

“what are you doing here?” the question came steadier, more controlled, closer to what it should be, though it carried a weight he hadn’t intended to give it. he dragged a hand back through his hair, pushing damp strands away from his face, buying himself a moment before his gaze flicked back, quick and assessing — the dust of travel, the stance, the undeniable fact that he was here. did it show how quick his heart thrashed in his chest right now?

darius exhaled quietly through his nose, jaw shifting just slightly as something unsettled threaded through him, familiar in the worst way. “…you came for the games?” for me? he added after a beat, the edge in his voice softer now but no less present. there was a pause, brief but noticeable, before something sharper slipped through despite himself. “or to make sure i don’t embarrass you.” it was meant to sound light. it didn’t quite manage it.

#shieldofvissai #shieldofvissai (001)#* . ⊹ ❨ ᴍᴇᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡɪɴɢꜱ ❩ ⌗ threads #u dont have to match length ahfskl #u know me and also setting scene bla #hope this works #<3

a7estrellas

✨ its missing him hours... ✨

PEDRO PASCAL on the set of 'GLADIATOR II'

#* . ⊹ ❨ ᴏɴ ᴡɪɴɢꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴠᴀʟᴏʀ ᴡᴇ ʀɪꜱᴇ ❩ ⌗ darius

inkstainedembers

status — closed for @heavensoared time & place — the solstice games, the king's charge

ariya entered the crown prince’s pavilion without hindrance, offering a brief nod to the knights of the ember guard stationed at either side of the open flap. a handful of servants lingered within, attending to his grace’s preparations for the day though fewer than there might have been had he been on the morning’s list. they bow and curtsy at his arrival, then withdraw with quiet efficiency, leaving he and darius alone so they might speak privately.

ariya swept into his own bow in proper deference to the prince, a growing stack of missives held loosely in one hand. there is no shortage of matters within them worthy of discussion and yet he bypassed them all. saying plainly as he straightened, “your brother has a gleam in his eyes that i do not like. you would do well to steer away from him on the breaking field.”

he held darius’ gaze for a weighted moment and then let it fall, crossing the space to seat himself at the small desk pushed against one of the canvas tent’s walls, “or you do us all a favor and let your dragon have a meal of him.”

it was a topic well-worn between them. ari had never liked nor trusted the skywarden’s second born prince, fabianus, though it had taken quite some time before he had dared to say as much to his prince. once he felt he had been given leave to do so, he had said it often though he knew better than to press too hard. in truth, there was never enough time in their crowded days for all ari might have said on the matter, a busy morning of the solstice games and where they might easily be overheard most of all.

“you have received a great many invitations to watch the king’s charge this morning.” he continued, shifting at last to the purpose of his appearance here. “the king has impressed upon me that it is his wish that you accept one — or extend your own, to someone with whom we might cultivate new ties.”

heavensoared

darius did not look up when ariya entered.

he knew it was him long before the flap stirred—by the way the guards did not announce and by the quiet shift of movement within the tent as servants began to withdraw without being told. it was a pattern now, one he had grown used to in a way he did not often allow himself to acknowledge.

he waited.

only once the last of them had gone did his hands still at his wrist, finishing the pull of a leather strap with a firm tug before he lifted his head. his gaze found ariya easily, settling on him without hurry, without the sharp edge he wore for most others. there was a flicker of recognition at the stack of missives, soft sigh blooming in his chest.

at the mention of fabianus, something quieter settled into darius’ expression. not irritation. not quite. something closer to resignation, worn thin from familiarity. his thumb dragged once along the edge of the strap he had just secured, a habit more than a need, before his hand fell away. his attention stayed on ariya, properly now.

“he always has one,” darius went on after a moment, voice low enough to sit between them rather than carry. “usually just before he decides he is cleverer than everyone else in the room.”

there was the faintest shift at the corner of his mouth—not quite a smile, but close enough to be felt. he did not brush the warning aside. he never did. not from ariya. his gaze held for a moment longer, something thoughtful in it now, before he looked away first—toward the open edge of the pavilion, toward the distant noise of the games beginning to stir. “i will keep clear of him,” he said, and this time it sounded less like strategy and more like quiet agreement. “or as clear as he allows anyone to be.”

at the suggestion that followed, darius huffed a breath—soft, brief, almost amused despite himself.

“if i start feeding princes to seraphina, we will have a different kind of problem on our hands,” he murmured. his eyes flicked back to ariya and there— something warmer sat beneath the composure. familiar. allowed. “though i will keep the option in mind.” it passed quickly, as it always did.

darius straightened then, rolling his shoulder once as if settling into himself, into the weight of the day ahead. the leather at his arms creaked faintly with the movement, worn and fitted, more practical than ceremonial, golden gauntlents polished to near perfection. when ariya shifted the conversation, so did he. it was almost visible—the way the crown settled back into place.

at the mention of invitations, his attention shifted—not sharply, but with purpose. duty had a way of doing that to him, pulling him cleanly from whatever else might linger beneath.

“of course he has,” darius said, and this time there was a thread of something wry beneath the composure. “my father does so enjoy offering me as a prize to be won.” his gaze dropped briefly to the stack of missives in ariya’s hand, then lifted again, not to the letters, but to the man holding them.

“and what would you have me do?” he asked, though they both knew he was not asking for permission. not truly. “accept one of his carefully chosen alliances, or make a spectacle of independence and extend my own?” a pause, slight but intentional. they both knew the answer to that question. “who, in your estimate, should i be spending my morning with?”

#inkstainedembers #inkstainedembers (001)#* . ⊹ ❨ ᴍᴇᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡɪɴɢꜱ ❩ ⌗ threads #hi i'm melli and i ramble a lot >.<#hope this is ok <3 #ty so much for the starter <33 #liathra ( event 02 / solstice games )

prodigysang

people in high positions of power were normally used to being seized up. nosherwan wasn't doing it to find weaknesses in darius however. if anything, he was admiring all of the good traits that he had seen of the man so far. looking for more to spot.

a strong future king.

that much was obvious. so as much as he allowed himself relax in the newfound warmth, he wasn't going to let that lower his guard. he was in vissai for a purpose and he would make sure to see it through.

“you seem to not know the power and class that they hold. truly, you're one of the most wellspoken crown princes i've met.” and he had seen several through his life. “good. i wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable.”

that wasn't the goal for his trip. technically, that part was alreayd done. he could have went back home feeling accomplished. yet, he wanted to get to know the other.

“sometimes, perception can truly be all, can't it? if one person thinks you mean them harm because of your tone, it can cause a whole outbreak.” he wasn't that paranoid, but he wasn't talking about himself. “they're rarely enough, but they're almost always what kick things off.” which meant they had to be careful. “the middle is a good place to be. stay as long as you can.”

that part was true. not many were used to holding a mirror up to themselves. something that nosherwan was always confused by, but he loved his own reflection. “then allow me to be the one to see it in you.” he bowed his head slightly as a form of acknowledgment. once more, he only meant to compliment darius with his words.

this place seemed to be what he had needed since stepping foot into the palace. not only was the sunlight finally shining down on him, but the crown's armor was also reflecting it. warmth radiated off of every corner and nosherwan found himself getting a little too comfortable. it was like his strength and power was coming back to him.

“what's not easily seen or known can provide great insight for someone.” the answer seemed to actually surprise the changeling. evident in the fact that his eyes had widened a bit and he leaned forward, closer to darius. “have you found a lot of temples to roam? i'm sure your dragon gives you access to a lot of different places.” ones that not everyone would have access to. that alone could give some more knowledge than the normal person could have had. interesting.

"do you often watch others when they don't know they're being watched then?" his tongue licked his lips. he did the same. “you're right. they are truly themselves in those moments.”

all of the information was eye opening.

finally, the answer that he had expected all along. that simply provoked a nod from his side, not too surprised. “i'm sure that for someone that doesn't like to have things expected of him, the freedom of flying away from others can be liberating.” in the sky he didn't have to be a crown prince. he didn't have to be anything. nosherwan couldn't even imagine it himself. “do you have a strong bond with several dragons or is it mainly your own?” he didn't know how that fully worked.

heavensoared

darius listened without interruption, though the praise drew the faintest shift in his expression — not quite discomfort, but something close to it. he was accustomed to words like that, had been shaped by them, expected to carry them as easily as he did his armor… and yet, coming from nosh, they did not sit the same.

“you give me more credit than i have earned,” he said quietly, though not dismissive, his tone measured rather than deflecting entirely. “but i will take it as it is meant.” his gaze lingered a moment, steady, before drifting forward again.

“perception can be everything,” he agreed after a beat. “it is often what decides whether words are taken as warning… or as threat. and by the time action follows, the damage is already done.” there was no weight of lecture in it — just observation, something learned rather than taught.

at nosh’s next words, however, something in darius stilled — not outwardly, but beneath it. allow me to be the one to see it in you. his eyes flicked back to him then, sharper, studying in return now rather than simply observing. there was no rejection in it, no dismissal… but neither was there blind acceptance. nosh had stepped closer, in more ways than one. “that is a dangerous offer to make,” darius said, voice softer now, though edged faintly with something unreadable. “seeing clearly is rarely without consequence.” and yet — he did not tell him to stop.

the shift toward lighter conversation came almost naturally after that, though the tension did not entirely fade.

“there are more than one might expect,” he answered, when the temples were mentioned. “vissai was not always what it is now. there are places left behind… forgotten by most, but not entirely lost.” his gaze dipped briefly, as if tracing the memory of them rather than the stone beneath his feet.

“flying makes them easier to find,” he added, quieter. “and easier to reach before others do.” at the question that followed, the corner of his mouth curved — faint, knowing. “observing is… a useful habit,” he said. “though i suspect i am not the only one who practices it.” his eyes held nosh’s for a fraction longer than necessary.

then — the dragons.

the shift was subtle, but unmistakable.

“one,” darius said simply at first. “it is… not quite something that is divided.” his voice softened again, not in volume, but in something less guarded, less shaped for court. there was no topic that could reach him like dragons did. “there are others i respect, others i have flown with,” he continued, “but the bond is not the same. it is not meant to be.” a small pause.

“they choose us as much as we choose them,” he added, glancing briefly toward the light spilling across the chamber. “and once that choice is made… it is not easily undone.” and he didn't want it to, either. seraphina was as much part of him as he was of her. they were one soul, one life. nothing would ever change that.

his gaze returned to nosh, steadier now, though something quieter lingered beneath it. “you speak of freedom,” he went on, “but it is not only escape. it is… clarity. there is nothing to hide behind when you are in the sky. no titles, no expectations — only what you are, and whether it is enough.”

a beat passed, softer than the ones before.

“tell me,” darius added then, tone easing just slightly, though his attention remained fixed, “does lysain offer anything comparable… or do you prefer to keep your feet on the ground?”

#prodigysang (002)#prodigysang #* . ⊹ ❨ ᴍᴇᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡɪɴɢꜱ ❩ ⌗ threads

prodigysang

traveling was a part of the job.

visiting other kingdoms in light of following their traditions was supposed to be a fun thing. the invitation had even come from the vissain high priest. observing the customs and magic of the dragons up close was going to be a sight that he would never forget. which was a good thing.

what he didn't account for was how he always tended to over prepare, even when he knew how long it took to get from point a to point b. there could have been unforeseen circumstances in the road ahead of them. if varlinnis knew one thing, it was how to reach the other kingdoms quickly. although, that was a piece of knowledge that was often times frowned upon. why they knew it at least.

still, he wasn't going to let that slow him down once he was already on his way. he told them to continue to push on forward and ran into people from other kingdoms. they were comfortable with waiting around, slowing themselves down, but he didn't see the need. maybe he still had similarities to the mad king.

better to be early than to not arrive on time.

he had happily summoned up a flame to lead them the rest of the way there, hearing some concerns of the potential fog getting in the way of their sight. that could have been seen as an offensive tactic. there was no time for him to dwell on that fact though. he couldn't let that be what stopped them.

their entrance was announced.

they were there on good terms.

there should be no pressure or concern, but why did the high priest always feel on edge? as if people were waiting on him to turn on them. on varlinnis to drop the peaceful act and seek destruction again.

a small smile formed on his face at the greeting. ahh, the crown prince and not the king? interesting. “thank you, and apologize. that is surely my fault.” he bowed his head out of respect. “i tend to assume i'm always late due to the unknown elements of nature and leave early. the others tagged along in fear of missing all of this as well.” while his smile was faint, his eyes seemed to widen with awe. “that's amazing news. we are sad to have missed it.”

what a joyous event to not have seen. he should've left earlier.

“i speak only for myself, but i would love to join you.” there was no hesitation in the high priest's words. he was ready.

heavensoared

darius did not speak at once.

for a brief moment, he simply regarded devansh — not as one might assess a guest, but as one might weigh presence against moment. there were very few people who could arrive unannounced at the gates of regia ignis and not feel like an intrusion. fewer still who could be folded, almost seamlessly, into something already in motion.

devansh, it seemed, had managed it.

a faint smile touched darius’ mouth then, quieter than the one he had offered in greeting, but warmer for it.

“you have nothing to apologize for,” he said at last, voice smooth, unhurried. “if anything, you have spared yourself the duller half of the day.” his gaze flicked briefly toward the courtyard beyond, where preparations had already settled into readiness. “the hatching itself is… rarely witnessed. even by those who try.”

there was no disappointment in the words. only acceptance — the kind that came from a life spent around creatures that answered to no schedule but their own.

he descended the last of the marble steps then, the shift in movement subtle, yet enough to draw the attention of those nearby into a more ordered stillness. silk whispered softly against light armor as he crossed into the courtyard proper, the mountain wind catching at the pale fabric draped from his shoulders.

“what follows matters more,” darius continued, turning slightly so that his attention returned fully to devansh. “not for spectacle.” a small pause, deliberate. “for meaning.”

his hand came to rest briefly along the neck of his horse, steadying the animal with practiced ease before taking the reins. the creature stilled beneath his touch, as though accustomed to it.

“in vissai, a hatching does not end with the bond,” he said, almost conversationally now, though the weight beneath it remained. “it begins a series of obligations — to the dragon, to our god and to the kingdom that placed that egg into waiting hands.”

there was something quietly deliberate in that phrasing.

placed.

not given lightly. not taken.

his gaze held devansh’s for a moment longer, something more intent settling beneath the calm. “today, you will see one of those obligations fulfilled.”´he mounted in a single fluid motion, the movement effortless, refined into habit. from horseback, the perspective shifted him — less the prince receiving a guest, more the figure others oriented themselves around without needing to be told.

“the rider waits at the temple,” he went on, adjusting the fall of the reins between his fingers. “they will kneel before the winged beast and be acknowledged — not as a child of their house, but as something… changed.”

not elevated.

not exalted.

simply no longer what they had been.

darius tilted his head slightly, studying devansh once more — and this time, there was a quiet note of something almost like curiosity beneath the composure. “it is not often we allow those outside vissai to stand within that moment,” he said. “but you are not unfamiliar to us. nor to me.” a beat passed, brief but intentional. then, softer— “so you will stand.”

not a question.

not quite a command, either.

something in between — something that acknowledged both his authority and the respect he chose to extend. the wind stirred again through the courtyard, banners shifting as the escort began to form more tightly around them, the path toward the lower terraces already being cleared.

darius gave a small motion of the reins.

“come,” he said, gaze lingering just long enough to ensure devansh would follow.

and then he turned his horse toward the open gates, the beginning of the procession carrying them down from regia ignis and toward whatever waited below, the heavy beat of seraphina's wings accompanying them in the air.

#prodigysang (004)#prodigysang #* . ⊹ ❨ ᴍᴇᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡɪɴɢꜱ ❩ ⌗ threads #prodigysang; devansh

lordofrevelry

that glimmer of amusement from darius made caspian smile. as much as he loved tormenting the crown prince, he also adored making him happy. he had once known the pressure of being next in line to the throne, back when his brother hadn't had any children. caspian knew from an early age that he never wanted to be king. he would have been forced to obey court etiquette, attend dull meetings, and spend his entire life being manipulated by the court. caspian was glad when his eldest nephew was born. he no longer had to worry about such a boring fate and went off to live a life of adventure. having returned to court, he now spent his days planning parties and living as he wished. caspian only catered to the needs of those truly important, such as darius, but even then he was more apt to follow his own desires.

"of course it will be memorable. it's one of my own creations." caspian says with a shimmering smile that rivals the plentiful rings he adorns his fingers with. moving to dress, he maintains conversation with the prince. an attendant offers caspian clothing which he puts on, admiring himself in a nearby mirror another attendant held in place. "and the court will have no issue with you being paraded as king of the merfolk. why?" caspian buttons up the front of his ornate doublet, leaving the top few buttons undone so that he can show off the golden necklaces he wore. "--because I said so, of course. they'll have to get used to the idea of you as king one day, anyhow. why not practice?" caspian finishes his outfit with black boots that another attendant has to lace up the back. they go all the way up past his knee, stopping at his thigh. once finished caspian gives himself a look in the mirror, striking a pose. he truly was the prettiest creature to ever grace the entire realm.

"now. I remember you inviting me out to lunch?" caspian had a good buzz going and didn't want to lose it, nor did he want to part with darius just yet. so he claps twice, instructing his entourage to gather all of his belongings for transport. "take all that back to my chambers. I'll be with my prince all evening. he's promised to marry me and make me the future king consort." he teases while his attendants chuckle, amused by their patron and their antics. caspian loops an arm around one of darius' biceps, tucking himself against his side. "shall we?"

heavensoared

darius watched him dress in silence, gaze steady as caspian moved through the practiced ritual of being adorned. there was something almost ceremonial in it, in the way attendants hovered and adjusted and presented, as though they were preparing him for an audience rather than a simple walk through the city. he did not comment on the remark about kingship.

not immediately.

instead, his attention lingered just long enough to take in the final result — the open collar, the gold, the deliberate display of excess worn with effortless confidence. predictable. and, irritatingly, effective. he was beautiful, in a way. so unlike the other men at vissai's court. “i suspect,” darius said at last, voice calm as ever, “that forcing the court into acceptance is a strategy that tends to produce resistance, not enthusiasm.”

a faint pause.

“though i have no doubt you would consider that part of the entertainment.” his gaze shifted as caspian’s attendants moved about the room, gathering what remained of the spectacle.

marry him.

the comment drew the barest flicker of something across his expression — gone almost as soon as it appeared. darius did not dignify it with a response. not here. not like this. the sudden weight at his arm was … expected. he glanced down briefly at where caspian had looped himself against him, gaze resting there for a moment longer than necessary before lifting again. he did not pull away.

“i do not recall making any such promise,” darius replied mildly, though there was a quiet note of amusement beneath the words that had not been there before. his free hand adjusted the cuff of his sleeve with idle precision. “though i imagine you would have accepted on my behalf regardless.”

a brief glance toward the doors. then back to caspian. “come,” he added, tone shifting just slightly into something more decisive. “if i am to be led through drakereach with such claims attached to my name, we may as well ensure the food is worth the spectacle.” and with that, he began to move — fully aware of the presence at his side, and making no immediate effort to dislodge it.

the palace corridors gave way to open air soon enough, the warmth of the bathhouse replaced by the cooler breeze that drifted through drakereach. lanterns had already been lit along the streets, their golden glow catching against stone and silk alike as the city moved around them in a steady hum of life. wherever darius went, attention followed — respectful, curious, inevitable — though today it seemed just as easily drawn to the figure at his side. they made quite the pair.

he ignored it with practiced ease, guiding them instead toward a place he knew would be quiet enough to indulge caspian’s presence without inviting an audience. only once they stepped inside, the noise of the town softening behind them, did his gaze shift again — briefly, deliberately — to the man still at his arm. shaking his head a little, he let his focus shift back on the place around them. they were offered a seat, hastily led inside the little shop away from prying eyes.

at least for the moment.

#lordofrevelry (001)#lordofrevelry #* . ⊹ ❨ ᴍᴇᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡɪɴɢꜱ ❩ ⌗ threads

tidebreakerthallan

he watched the prince with no doubt of what was coming next. no question of if he was right, they both knew he was. they both knew what was wanted and expected. what thallan could offer, and what darius would give, what he would take. gladly, hungrily.

it was sweet how composed he tried to look, how in control, even as he gave it away. what a dignified prince, lowering himself onto his knees to suck at the cock of a dirty sailor, a pirate.

he enjoyed ignoring his own station, the finery draped over him in those moments. it was sweeter to think himself the pirate, the seaman who made the dragon prince kneel. or rather let him, there was no force there, darius wanted to be on his knees for thallan like thallan wanted to be at sea.

the thought almost made him rush through it, cut through the poise and shove his cock into that wanting mouth--but he held back. saw the way his breath hitched, saw the hunger in his eyes.

that was the effect he had, the effect his cock had. he watched it and smirked, felt him close, felt his scent and his warmth as he closed in and inhaled. the salt and sweat, the water, the musk of a man who spent his day in the sun.

a caress of his hair as he moaned through it, surrendering to his true self as he set on worship. not rushing as he undid his laces, as he pulled free his treat and denied himself to kiss and nuzzle, to claim.

he hummed, almost wishing for a pipe but it would do to watch, to know all could easily tell what was happening. the sweet prince, taking what was his. was it cruel to think this is what he was born for as he finally opened his mouth to curl his tongue around a fat cock that was warm and wet for him? thickening with more blood as he sucked, took him into his mouth with ease and practice but no hush.

it was slow, careful worship, it was servitude. something foreign to prince, but well known to this one.

"right at home, aren't you?" he whispered, caressing his cheek as he suckled and licked, as he buried his face in thallan's crotch and took all off him. hands holding onto him, steadying both of them, relishing in the pleasure he was giving and receiving on the mere act of worshipping thallan's cock.

the half-elf lowered his pants under his ass, giving him more skin to grip and hold onto, to worship. hips shoving himself further into his mouth, feeling his throat close around with a sigh.

"that's it, no need to think now prince. just do what feels right, just give yourself to me..." he might keep him this time, he might demand more. "how does it taste? as good as you remember?" he leaned back, a pleased grin on his face, a relaxed stance as he leaned back to watch him work. to let his devotion run free.

he was not a man to follow guides and protocols, but he would never refuse being the chosen altar for a would be king's devotion. let his cock guide him, let his ship bring darius true meaning, let this be his duty.

heavensoared

the whisper was a brand against his skin, a soft question of belonging, and darius's answer was a hum that vibrated through them both, a sound of pure, unadulterated agreement. the caress on his cheek was a benediction, and he leaned into it for a fleeting second, a silent admission before his focus returned to the task at hand. he buried his face deeper, taking all of him, the act a desperate prayer for a moment of peace from the relentless noise of his own thoughts. here, there was only scent and heat and the solid reality of thallan filling his senses.

he let thallan's hips guide the rhythm now, a subtle surrender of the control he had so carefully initiated. it was easier this way. to be moved, to be used. the prince who spent his days weighing treaties and commands found a strange peace in having the decision taken from his hands. his fingers, which had been pressing with quiet claim, now curled more loosely, accepting the steady thrust that tested the limits of his composure. a faint, almost imperceptible tremor ran through him, a current of pleasure that was both a gift and a test.

then came the command, soft as silk and unyielding as steel. the words unraveled something deep within him. the constant, thrumming tension of duty, of expectation, finally went slack. his shoulders, which he hadn't realized were braced, relaxed. a soft, shuddering breath escaped him, muffled by flesh. this was the release he craved, the surrender he couldn't find anywhere else. his mind, unmoored from its usual anchors, drifted. would this be all? this hurried devotion on the deck, stolen between duties? or would thallan's hands soon be gripping his hips, pulling him up, bending him over the railing? the thought sent a jolt of pure need through him, throat tightening on instinct, a hunger that went far beyond this single act. he wanted more. he always wanted more.

the question that followed, laced with knowing amusement, pulled him back from the brink of his own longing. the reminder of every other time, every other secret visit. it was a reminder of his own weakness, of the pattern of his return. he should not be here. a crown prince did not seek out a pirate, did not kneel on the worn wood of a foreign ship for the taste of another man. and yet, he did. again and again.

he pulled back slowly, an act of will that left thallan's skin glistening in the sea air. his lips were swollen, his chest rising and falling in a rhythm that was no longer entirely his own. he did not speak at first, simply breathed, his gaze still locked with thallan's. "it tastes," he began, his voice a low, rough thing, stripped of its courtly polish, "like coming home."

and then, as if to prove the point, he leaned back in, not to take thallan fully again, but to press his lips and tongue against the base, in a slow, open-mouthed kiss that was more worship than want. his hands slid from thallan's thighs to his hips, fingers splaying across the newly exposed skin, holding on not just for balance, but as if to anchor himself to this truth. the prince was gone. here was only a man on his knees, finding his meaning not in a kingdom, but in the salt and heat of the one who commanded his surrender.

#tidebreakerthallan (001)#tidebreakerthallan #usfw #* . ⊹ ❨ ᴍᴇᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡɪɴɢꜱ ❩ ⌗ threads #sigh... by now you know i ramble... sorry as always

thelonelyspare

Cassius had long since grown used to being overlooked and dismissed. Despite that, he had managed to turn such oversight into a power of his own. He haunted these halls, ever their quiet observer. The walls whispered, and he took the time to listen. Nevertheless, no matter how well he cordoned people into categories of understanding -- his family, the council, the nobles, the commonfolk -- there was always room to be taken by surprise.

Enter Darius.

His eldest brother may have only stood marginally taller than him, but his presence carried where Cassius' never had. He filled every room he entered with an effortless regality, every bit the golden son of Vissai.

Oftentimes, when Cassius looked at him, he saw past all of that -- to Darius’ gentleness. The kind that reminded him his brother was not only Aurelius Skywarden’s son, but Ignatia’s as well.

Regardless, he was easy to spot in a crowd, and easier still to avoid.

It was his words that gave Cassius pause, however, unease settling alongside surprise in his gut.

He had never intended to hide his familiarity with Aren. The Lord Commander was a friend to the Vissai court; it would not be unusual to see a royal prince exchanging words with him. Cassius was -- and always had been -- very intentional about who he was seen with, and what he was seen doing.

He had known, of course, that Darius was clever in his own way.

He wondered, briefly, what their father could possibly want with Aren. Later, after he had humored Darius enough, he would take it upon himself to find out.

"The Lord Commander has always been a friend to Vissai," he said simply, avoidantly. "I was simply welcoming him." He didn't add, of course, such pleasantries weren't expected of him, the third prince. Nor that he considered Aren a personal friend. His interest in the other went above royal propriety and duty.

That aside...

Cassius' eyes narrowed a fraction as Darius invited him to walk alongside him.

It was rare for his brother to show such interest in him. Perhaps it was the curious part of him -- or the lonely, insecure boy who had once longed for his brother’s attention -- but he indulged him, his steps quiet as he fell into place beside Darius.

A wry smile plucked at the corners of his mouth. "You forget, brother," he began, matching Darius' light tone, "procession and expectation follow you everywhere. If I was avoiding anything, it was that."

It was true enough.

If he stood at Darius' side, he would be the one being observed instead of the observer.

As Darius continued, his words grew... gentler, almost curious. It gave Cassius pause, though his footsteps remained steady. His brother’s observation was correct in an unsettling way. He was so accustomed to his family never truly seeing him that to have Darius -- of all people -- so accurately describe his childhood stirred a distant, familiar ache in his chest.

He stilled at the question, caught somewhere between perplexity and something dangerously close to hope.

His mask of indifference, cracked as it was, remained firmly in place. He did not allow the flicker of emotion to surface.

Not yet.

He studied Darius -- scanned his face, saw the gentleness there and…

He would allow him the truth.

"A child never chooses the edges of things," he replied, tone level, measured as it always was. "But, we all have our roles. I have merely embraced mine."

He met his brother's gaze and held it.

"As you have embraced yours?"

heavensoared

darius listened without interruption, his gaze resting on cassius with that same quiet attentiveness — not sharp, not probing, but present in a way that suggested he was weighing more than the words themselves.

at the mention of the lord commander, there was the faintest shift in his expression. not suspicion. recognition. “of course,” he said simply, inclining his head a fraction. “he has always been… reliable in that regard.” he did not press further. whatever cassius chose to name it as, darius allowed it to stand. he believed him, but he also knew there was more to it than he let on, though he would not be pushing for an answer he was unwilling to give.

his attention shifted instead, following the thread cassius offered him.

the faintest hint of something wry touched his expression at the mention of procession. “yes,” he admitted, quieter now, “i imagine i make it difficult to go unnoticed.” there was no pride in it. if anything, something closer to awareness — of weight, of presence, of the way the world bent around him whether he willed it or not.born to be the center of attention wherever he went. to hold himself in a way that made it impossible for others to ignore him. his father's first lesson, maybe. he didn't remember.

his steps slowed slightly as cassius continued, as the tone shifted, as the words settled into something more honest. this time, when darius answered, he did not look away.

“i have,” he said, voice even, steady. no denial. no attempt to soften it. “it was never much of a choice.” he was born with only one purpose and that had never been up to debate. at least not after his dragon hatched.

a brief pause followed, the air between them still, carrying the quiet truth of it.

“and you are right,” he continued, softer now, though no less certain. “a child does not choose the edges. any more than he chooses the center.” his gaze held cassius’, unwavering. “we are placed. shaped. expected to become what is required of us.”

another step, unhurried.

“but embracing a role…” he exhaled lightly, the thought unfinished for just a beat before he continued, more deliberately, “is not the same as being limited to it.”

it wasn’t an argument.

not quite agreement either.

something in between — something offered, rather than imposed. a fantasy he held onto for his own survival. he wanted it to be true, not just for his brother, but himself, too.

the sharper lines of his expression eased then, just slightly, something more familiar surfacing beneath the crown and expectation.

“and if you were avoiding me,” he added, that faint trace of dryness returning, softer now, almost self-aware, “i cannot say i blame you.” a brief glance, then back to him. “i rarely arrive alone.”

this time, the quiet that followed was different. less heavy. still full — but shared.

and for once, unobserved.

#thelonelyspare (001)#thelonelyspare #* . ⊹ ❨ ᴍᴇᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡɪɴɢꜱ ❩ ⌗ threads

#* . ⊹ ❨ ᴏɴ ᴡɪɴɢꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴠᴀʟᴏʀ ᴡᴇ ʀɪꜱᴇ ❩ ⌗ darius

@thelonleyspare (in a corridor overlooking the courtyard, early evening)

the morning had long since softened into quiet.

the clang of steel from the training yards had faded, leaving only the warmth of sunlit stone and the distant hush of the mountain winds. a rare lull — the kind that slipped through regia ignis unnoticed unless one knew to look for it.

darius had not meant to find him.

and yet, he had.

he stood at the open archway overlooking the courtyard, one hand resting lightly against the stone as his gaze drifted over the now-empty space below. earlier, it had held movement — cassius among it, speaking with aren, composed as ever. nothing remarkable to an outside eye.vbut darius had lingered. he always noticed more than he let on.

“you missed him.” his voice carried easily, calm, familiar. he didn’t turn at once, already aware of the quiet presence behind him. “aren was called away. father asked him to accompany rodrik.” a brief pause, then, softer and almost a bit thoughtful, “i saw you with him.” not a question. just… acknowledgment. only then did he turn.

cassius stood a few paces back, as he so often did — close enough to be present, never quite close enough to presume. the faint glint of gold caught the light at his hands, rings turning restlessly against ink-stained fingers. darius’ gaze lingered there a moment before lifting. “you keep interesting company,” he added, something faintly wry in his tone. “i heard he doesn’t often give his mornings to conversation.” meaning aren was usually described as standoffish, never seemingly connect with others. darius got it, duty before life.

he studied him then — properly, without the interference of court or expectation dulling the moment. “walk with me, brother.” it wasn’t a command. just an opening. he turned, setting an unhurried pace along the quieter path that traced the inner wall, where the mountain air cut through the stillness and the world dropped away beyond the stone.

“you’ve been difficult to find lately,” darius said after a few steps, glancing at him briefly. “council… or gone before i arrive.” a faint shift of expression, almost teasing, “i was beginning to think you were avoiding me.” the tone was light. what sat beneath it wasn’t, entirely. he exhaled, gaze drifting outward again.

“or perhaps i’ve been looking in the wrong places.” hinting he didn't know his brother as well as he thought. silence settled between them, easy in a way it rarely was with others. after a moment, his voice lowered, quieter now.

“you always preferred the edges of things,” he said. “even as a child.”

a small pause.

“i used to wonder if that was by choice… or because no one thought to call you closer.” this time, when he looked at cassius, there was no distance in it. only something steady. searching. gentler than most would ever see.

“which is it, cassius?”

#thelonelyspare (001)#thelonelyspare #* . ⊹ ❨ ᴍᴇᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡɪɴɢꜱ ❩ ⌗ threads

#* . ⊹ ❨ ᴏɴ ᴡɪɴɢꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴠᴀʟᴏʀ ᴡᴇ ʀɪꜱᴇ ❩ ⌗ darius #* . ⊹ ❨ ꜰʟᴇꜱʜ ꜰᴏʀɢᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴅᴜᴛʏ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰʟᴀᴍᴇ ❩ ⌗ physical

prodigysang

there were some people that seemed to pay attention more than others. that was one of the reasons why he knew that darius would make a great king, when the time came. he seemed to know exactly what was going on around him and where. for someone that wasn't used to have eyes on him, nosherwan would be the first to admit that he felt the crown's eyes on him a couple of times. gaze lingering longer than it should have. so he wasn't surprised that the man had said something insightful. almost as if he had been studying the older man. a part of him felt flattered. another part felt like he should be on guard.

“thank you. your words do not fall on deaf ears and they were quite the compliment.” this time, he actually grinned. “but they favor me too much.”

his steps slowed down whenever they passed by a window. there wasn't a lack of sun this high up in the mountains, but when they were indoors it wasn't always easy to feel that warmth. his skin tingled whenever he felt that familiar embrace. the kingdoms were so differently from one another.

at least the warmth was able to soothe him in between steps. make sure that he took it easy and didn't rush off anywhere. he looked at their feet first, making sure to match darius' pace. then, he tilted his chin up so that he could look at the eldest prince of vissai. a powerful title to hold.

“do you favor those that prepare with words or is action more of your go to? or are you among those that lay somewhere in the middle?” his ears seemed to perk up as he asked the question. he genuinely wanted to know.

if people were going to assume things of one another, then they might as well try to actually get to know them. that was something that he was trying to do. read darius. understand him.

“i often believe that honor comes not with a man's words, but his own perception. you, for example, seem to be one with high honor. it follows you around.” another quiet observation.

once he saw the sunlight pooling in the room, nosherwan's feet seemed to do the talking for him. he stepped into the corridor without thinking too much of it. “you'll find that it pleases me very much.” the grin only grew warmer, eyes almost glowing under the sun. “do tell, what topics interests you outside of the political conversations around the round table?”

heavensoared

darius felt it — the moment nosh’s gaze lifted, settling on him with intent rather than passing curiosity. it was not unfamiliar, being watched, measured, weighed… but this felt different. less like expectation, more like interest. it held longer than it needed to. longer than it should have.

he did not look away.

instead, he allowed himself a brief glance in return, taking in the way the sunlight caught along the man’s features as he stepped into it, the warmth softening something in his expression. it suited him, darius thought — far too easily.

“you give my words more weight than they deserve,” he replied at last, voice smooth, though quieter now, less performative than before. “but i will not pretend i dislike the favor.” a faint curve touched his mouth, fleeting, but genuine.

at the question, his gaze shifted forward again, thoughtful. for a moment, he said nothing, as though considering the answer rather than reaching for one already prepared.

“i was taught that words carry power,” he said slowly, “that they shape perception, bind alliances, and sometimes… prevent the need for action altogether.” a small pause. “but i was also taught that words alone are rarely enough.” his eyes flicked back to nosh, sharper now, though not unkind. “so perhaps i do fall somewhere in the middle,” he admitted. “though i suspect the world has a way of deciding for us, eventually.”

the comment about honor lingered a moment longer than the others. darius did not respond to it immediately — not out of dismissal, but because it was not something he took lightly. “honor,” he echoed quietly, as if testing the word rather than accepting it. then, softer, “i think it is easier to see in others than in oneself.” it was the closest he came to contradiction.

they stepped fully into the chamber then, sunlight spilling across the stone, catching in the gold of his armor, warming what little of him it could reach. for a brief moment, he allowed himself to simply stand in it, the tension of the throne room, the weight of expectation, loosening just slightly. when he spoke again, his tone shifted — lighter, though no less deliberate.

“as for what interests me,” he continued, glancing back to nosh, “i find i am drawn to things that do not demand anything of me.” a subtle pause, just enough to let the thought settle. “history, perhaps. not the kind written for courts, but the quieter accounts — the ones people do not intend to leave behind. the kind you find at the temples in town.” remnants of a time before vissai was the kingdom they knew. his gaze lingered a fraction too long again.

“and people,” he added, almost as an afterthought, though the weight of it suggested otherwise. “they tend to reveal far more than they realize… when they are not trying to be understood.”

another pause followed — shorter this time, less guarded.

“and flying,” darius said, more quietly now, though something in his tone shifted, softened. “there is very little in this world that compares to it.” his eyes drifted briefly, not unfocused, but distant in a way that suggested memory rather than distraction. “dragons do not care for titles,” he continued, the faintest hint of something real — something unpracticed — threading through his voice. “or expectations. they demand presence, nothing more. and when you are with them… there is no room left for anything else.”

#prodigysang (003)#prodigysang #* . ⊹ ❨ ᴍᴇᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡɪɴɢꜱ ❩ ⌗ threads

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