#saerus

[damienanddragons]

a commission of my knight Saerus by the talented @melura !!! always a delight to work with them <:3

[noir-drabbles]

Saerus 1

Summary: You can’t help but notice how Saerus doesn’t really resemble his father.

(Implied violence.)

Being sealed away, muted from the sighs and rumbles of the living earth around you, has forced you to pay attention to many things you otherwise would simply ignore.

The sound of stumbling footsteps, the light shifting of stone when the temperature changes, the taste of the air when rainwater soaks the ground your room was buried in. All of it, you had to pay attention to, for you had no way to spend your time otherwise.

Not with these chains on your wrists keeping you within this room. The King truly wants to narrow your world to just this room, to meld your time with his as he hides away from the dangers of the outside. As though your presence was enough to keep them at bay.

Well, he’s not quite wrong. But you hold no ability to banish the demons of the mind.

You shifted in your bed then sat up when you heard a tumbling before a heavy thud. The door to your room was fumbled open.

The young prince has come to visit you again. His form was solid, less a mountain and more a crafted column.

Saerus smelled of war.

The drops slipping through his hair told you their stories in little, quick bursts.

Night. Crickets in grass. Wind through lush trees. Leaves speckled in fire. Spears through running legs. The smell of iron and mud. A beast in armor. It howls in victory. It howls for mercy.

A battle lost. Another failure. It was a cloak that somehow suited him.

Saerus limped through your door, then collapsed right against the leg of your bed. He tore off his armor with shaking fingers. All you could do was watch and be lost in memories.

Aindres always had a glow to him. Not divine radiance, but you remember telling him, back before any of this, that it was as though he was kissed by the sun itself. Gold hair in gentle curls, gold eyes that sharped their focus, and a smile that belonged under a golden crown.

His son carried none of that. His hair was flat, a muddy brown made darker with rain. His eyes were sharp but were always lost in the fog of his mind.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen him smile. A crown would be no different than a jester’s hat on him.

When the last piece of armor was tossed to the floor, Saerus crawled over, large form made small. He buried his head in his arms, resting against the bed.

His body trembled. The weight of grief was too much for him.

You took one of the many blankets that were gifted to you and placed it over his shoulders. He twitched and looked up.

You blocked his sight with your hands. You don’t wish to see hope in his eyes. You don’t want to see any similarities between them.

“Rest.”

Of course, he obeyed you.

[noir-drabbles]

Saerus 2

Summary: No matter how far he goes, Saerus will always find himself back here.

(My eyes were sore for a while but I have recovered! Man I hate midterms essays.)

That battle, the one that haunts him behind his eyes, the seeps into the cracks of white stone walls as distant noise just at the edge of his hearing, was the final one he would ever be in. At least, he would hope for such a thing.

To call this entrapment would imply he was here against his will, and to an extent it would be right. One battle wasn’t enough, neither was ten, neither was fifty. One hundred would surely be enough to afford one word of praise from his father’s lips, so to be cut short brought endless frustration.

And yet, this predicament, when Saerus donned his armor to venture out, if only to bring back any evidence of Aindres’s fallen army for a proper burial, was when Saerus saw his father at his happiest, as he looped around back, as though a dizzy mouse in an endless maze.

Insanity lies not in senseless repetition but in the repeating of what won’t change, in beating your hopes to a pulp by doing the same thing over and over.

Saerus nearly vomited when he saw the golden gates once more, mocking him with it’s beautiful glint as the stars stared a heavy weight on him. The cold bit at him, and only then did he venture back inside, skin itchy with the need to do something, to feel anything be it a caressing hand or a knife plunging into his back.

The next morning, Saerus and his father sit in silence. He can’t eat his food, no matter how varied the display before him. Too much clinking from his nerve damaged hands would surely drive his father’s smile away.

The wine he drank stained Aindres’s lips red.

“Is it not lovely,” his father put his drink down, looking at him with richly gold eyes that shine with a brilliant fantasy, “to be leashed so?”

“Leashed, Father?” There were rocks in his voice, tumbling through the airy tone of Aindres. Quiet down. I don’t wish to hear you.

Aindres flourished a hand out, to the custom carved walls and the food made by expert hand before tapping on the table. “Yes, leashed. Chained to a pole while we wag our tails at the one we love most. I came upon the idea to limit ourselves to just here only yesterday.”

Will he cast into hellfire if Saerus ever admitted to the jealousy he felt at the bruises on his father’s neck? Would he be chained up and flogged for daring to desire what he knows cannot be his? How disgusting he was. A failure of a prince, much less a son.

“I’ve angered them, quite terribly,” the remorse clouded his eyes, but the affection kept them soft, “surely they’ll be happy to have a palace at their disposal?”

And Saerus does not speak, for he knows his voice will shiver if he does so. But even so, he doesn’t have to. If there was a mirror, he would see all the thoughts in him laid bare. The twitch in his fingers, the quickening of his breath, his jumping irises. All of him was excited, all of his was filled with dread.

Soon you will be roaming the halls, still in chains, but freer than Saerus will ever be. The weight of your anger will no longer be distant dream and a cherished nightmare.

[noir-drabbles]

Will the Prince be spared from God!Reader's wrath once they break out? Do they recognize that he's a victim of the King's and other's cruelty as much as they are?

Short answer: Yes.

Long answer is under the cut. His name shall be Saerus for now.

Reader is the kind of deity to keep this reactions close to their heart. They don't lash out, they don't coo, they don't beg. They more resemble a statue most days, but even then the King and Saerus are in awe at your presence.

So in awe that they fear ever touching you, no matter how much they want to. They'd much rather take care of their desires by themselves. They don't want to taint, so they keep your room decorated, lavish, and your chains clean.

But the Reader does lash out, at least verbally, in the pristine way, cutting down to the truth of the matter. Though that didn't do much, as both the King and Prince are self destructive masochists. The King would never let them out, but the Prince?

Well, he's easier to manipulate.

So, yeah the Reader does see that he's a victim of the King, otherwise, they would not be able to convince him to free them. However, they do recognize that the Prince only wanted them by his side for his own selfish reasons, even though he doesn't recognize them as selfish.

So they escape and leave him behind. But, they did leave a clue as to where they will be. How he presents himself when he gets to that location will determine what happens to their friendship.

[noir-drabbles]

totally random question, but what’s stopping god!reader from just like, murdering the king / taking hostage of Prince Saerus

unless the chains have like a weakening effect on us?? Because surely we can try and lure them into a false sense of safety and then just like, pounce on them and just go for the throat

Yup! Those chains do in fact have a weakening effect on the godly reader. The reader also knows that trying to kill the king who put the chains in then would only have them trapped in this place for all time, as only the king has access to the steps needed to unbind them.

The king also doesn't have the best relationship with Prince Saerus, so trying to hold him hostage would be useless. Unfortunately, the king has a number of blessings from the reader themselves, so he'll be living for quite a while with that youthful appearance of his. At least, for as long as this palace continues to stand, so will he and his beauty.

It's not uncommon for God's to have a favored human, the reader happened to choose one who... Was more than a little paranoid about himself and you dying.

Oh, and because of the kind of God the reader is, they are capable of dying, or at least disappearing.

[saelynne-dawnsong-blog]

Saerus Open RP

The letter was on his bed, folded neatly in half with his name scrawled above the fold. The paper was well taken care of but yellowed, with only the slightest of damages along one side where it may have been torn from a book.  "Dear Fyrus, Hope this finds you well. I'm sorry that I disappeared the other night-- though I'm not sure when this will reach you...  I feel ridiculous even writing this but it's easier than saying it aloud. I'm frightened. No, terrified. More so than I have been through the rest of my life. I don't think I'm ready for any of this---" The next three lines were scribbled out with hard angry strokes.  "I'm sorry. You don't deserve to hear my whining. Not after everything with your wife. You are the closest thing I have had to a friend since the fall of Quel'Thalas. I don't want to admit it but... I am certain we are more than that... As frightening as that is to admit.  But Fyrus, it's not just a child growing in my womb, but weakness. Since my realization I've had dream after dream of their dead faces--- your dead face. Soon I will be fat and slow and useless. No longer will I be able to fight or defend, my contract to the Tower will be broken a second time-- that's if they don't hunt me down and kill me for this.  Last night I was wandering the tower, huge and horrible, not even able to lift my sword. Stepping over the corpses looking for you and when I did find you you were... Worse than dead. You were one of those walking corpses. I was stunned and then you... You ate me alive and I couldn't even fight back. I watched you consume me with no emotion.  That's not something I can live with.  I need time to think of what to do..." Dark lines cross out the next paragraph, panic in the scrawled thoughts on the paper.  "I'll speak with you again soon, Again, I'm so sorry.  Saelynne Dawnsong." Only three droplets smudge the immaculate writing. 

[disasterdoodles-blog]

Saerus!!! Just for you.

[ardengo-blog]