The Royal Masquerade inspired (One Shot, IDK) No spoilers really, this is all in my head. My MC Helena has left (probably to go stay at her betrothed's estate to be married?) The Crown Shield Salvatore (M!Kayden) is dealing with his feelings over that. Alessio = (M!Hunter)
This is my contribution to @emceesynonymroll Wacky Drabbles Prompt #17 There is a certain taste to it will appear in bold in the story.
Word count: 1003, WHOOHOO, closest to 1,000 I've ever been (I cut out a LOT)
A/N: Characters belong to Pixelberry
Warnings: Angst, Sadness, Nightmares, Regret
If you want to be tagged or removed just message me/add a comment
Salvatore stands at the back of the room when he hears a herald call out for everyone to take their places. As people move to find a seat, the commotion dies down to that of hushed whispers, the people waiting in anticipation. As Salvatore takes his seat the ornate doors at the back swing wide, there she stands.
Helena is a vision, dressed in snow white lace with a shimmering crown on her head. Slowly she begins her solemn walk to the front, to an altar. They are in a church. She looks heartbroken, not happy like a bride marrying the one she loves. When she smiles it betrays her, it is false and doesn’t meet her eyes. She reluctantly approaches the man waiting for her, Salvatore doesn’t recognize him, his vision is clouded around the man’s face. Helena takes her place in front of the stranger and the priest begins to speak. Salvatore only hears a buzzing in his ears, he is sweating and starting to tremble. The priest asks the audience gathered to witness the union if there is anyone in attendance who wishes to object. Salvatore leaps from his seat before the priest can finish the sentence, “I object!” He screams, but no one pays him any attention. “I OBJECT! SHE IS NOT HAPPY! SHE DOESN’T WANT THIS.” His lungs ache as he empties all the air from them, still no one seems to notice him. He wants to run to her, to sweep her up and carry her away from there but he cannot move, his feet are planted, held by some unseen force, he tries to tear away, to rescue her but his struggle fails him. Suddenly, he rips himself free, falling and crashing on the stone floor of his barracks, tangled in a sheet wet with sweat. Breathing erratically, his chest heaves. In the cool night air, he shivers from the dampness of his skin. He drags a trembling hand down his face and tries to steady his breath.
“It was her again?” He hears a voice call out from his door; he looks to see Teapot standing in the threshold a look of pity on his usually irritated face, he had heard his chief's screams.
“Yes.” Salvatore breathes out in a whisper.
Teapot nods and looks away. He knows nothing he can say will fix the predicament his friend and mentor has found himself in. “Try to get some sleep chief.” He says as he retreats to his quarters quietly latching the door behind him.
Salvatore pushes himself up to his feet, looking around his room lit only by the moon. It is as though he is trying to force himself to believe he is in the present reality and not in one of his nightmares. Nightmares that haunt him every time he closes his eyes. They are a poison mixed with pleasure and pain. Pleasure of seeing her again and the pain of watching her always leave with someone else.
He lets out a ragged breath and reaches into the trunk at the foot of his bed to retrieve a blanket, he shakes it open and drapes it around his body. He paces the floor for a moment, contemplating crawling back in bed so he can see her face just one more time. He thinks better of it and instead takes a seat at the small desk by the window. He reaches into the drawer and pulls out a match to light a candle. He then produces a leather-bound journal and a quill pen. He leans over the desk and starts to write. Writing letters to her that he would never send was becoming a new hobby of his.
Dearest Helena,
You visited me again in my dreams. You were getting married in a gilded cathedral. You were a sight to behold, the most breathtaking thing I have ever laid eyes on. How I wished for a moment that it was real, except the faceless man you met at the alter would be me and not someone only marrying you for position. Your demeanor in the dream troubles me almost as much as the fact that I will never have you to myself. You looked defeated, like all the joy, warmth and wildness of spirit had been stripped right out of you. I tried to take you away, but like in all the other dreams, whenever I try to step in and save you, I am unable to move. I scream, but no one hears my cries. I am filled with this terrible dread, it is palpable. I feel it all around me like a smothering lead blanket. There is a certain taste to it, like wormwood mixed with the taste of my own blood after a battle. Nothing eases it. It just melds with the tremendous regret I carry. I should have told you I loved you before you left with him, when you confessed your love for me. I thought that in doing the honorable thing in letting you go and putting Alessio’s position above my own, like I have sworn an oath to do, that I would at least be able to sleep at night. That I could move on and that time would heal my broken heart. Now I see, it was not just broken, it was torn out when you left, and I find that I may not live without it. I have never been afraid of anything, not even death. But I will tell you I am afraid now, afraid of never seeing you again, never being able to hold you and kiss you like I long to. By day I conspire about how I will get you back and by night I am haunted by the ghost of you. It is clear now that I will not rest until I have you by my side or I have paid with my life…
Salvatore awakens to sunlight spilling in through the window to realize he has fallen asleep writing. He hastily dresses and rushes out the door to find Alessio.
This is my contribution to @emceesynonymroll Wacky Drabble Prompt #16. The prompt is Was I not supposed to? This is pairing M!Kayden Vescovi from the Royal Masquerade AKA Salvatore and my MC/OC Helena Everhart. Today’s events in Chapter 6 of TRM have me shook and I can’t think about anything else right now, so this is what you get:)
Word count: Nearly 12-damn-hundred (sorry)
A/N: All characters and locations belong to Pixelberry, some dialogue is straight from PB as well
Warnings: Nothing really, mostly fluff, maybe Renza’s scheming ass poisoning someone, the only cursing is in this freakin’ intro
So... my tags list is MIA, I don’t know who wants to see my stuff or who wants me to stay the hell away. If I tagged you and you do NOT want to be tagged, let me know and I won’t (Someone please tell me, how do you keep a tag list? On a post-it note?) If you want to be tagged, let me know and I will make a new post-it note.
You walk arm in arm with Salvatore to a spot by the canal. A bench sits on the path, he stops beside it and holds his hand out and nods, silently asking you to take a seat. You smile sweetly at him and sit down, he joins you. Neither of you speak, you sit together and watch a young couple across the canal as they laugh and feed the ducks, seemingly unaware of your stare or the other people that walk and talk among them. They are obviously in love and lost in themselves. Salvatore continues to watch them as you inhale a long breath that you hold longer than you should. You think of the last several moments, walking in the bizarre with Salvatore, your arms linked together. You smile to yourself when you think of the beautiful hair pin he gave to you, how you told the jeweler you were going home to work on your twelfth child and Salvatore’s flustered response to your declaration. The small fleeting smile he had given you when you gave him the book of poetry you had bought him. Your smile falls when you think about your future, a life married to Hector Nevrakis should he ask for your hand in marriage. You desire a simple life, a life like you could have with Salvatore. He could be a guard in the city, you would stay home and care for your home by day. In the evening he would tell you about his work and you would share with him the latest excitement with one of your many children. You would joke and laugh and love in your small cottage without a care in the world. At night you would travel the length of Salvatore’s taut physique, giving and receiving all the unspeakable pleasures you could offer one another.
The sound of him clearing his throat breaks you from your pleasant fantasy. You turn to face him and find his eyes fixed on yours. You realize your hand is resting on top of his and you quickly pull it away.
“I thought I had lost you there for a moment.” He stares at you, the corner of his lip turned up in a small smile.
“I guess I had gotten lost in thought… was I not supposed to…”
“No, no, it’s fine, Listen, I was just hoping we could talk.”
He hesitates at first, then starts to speak.
“Tell me something, Helena. Might we be happier if we set aside our duties and just lived, answering to nobody but ourselves?”
“Well that’s a profound question.” You already know your answer.
His eyes still fixed on yours, “Yes, And I’ve been thinking on it lately.”
“I do not know about happiness Salvatore, but I think we have been brought together by fate.”
His look is serious, “I believe we make our own destiny.”
Your heart is fluttering in your chest at the mere suggestion his question holds, “But you cannot deny our meeting was serendipitous. I was not meant to be at that masquerade. You did not have to ask me to dance. I had no idea I was to become the heir of house Everhart. Neither of us knew we would become so close.”
Leaning in listening to you intently, he nods, “Many pieces had to come together.”
You turn to him, your eyes fixed on his, penetrating brown eyes burning holes into yours, you reach out and take his hand, “Just so. And regardless of what is to come for both of us, I can tell you with utmost sincerity that I am so very thankful that we met.”
Something in his gaze makes your heart quicken. “Helena, I…” He hesitates, like he is uncertain of what he is about to say. “Helena, I am in love with you. I have been in love with you since the night we met at the masquerade. Since we stood on that balcony gazing at the stars. I can’t explain it and I don’t understand it but I…”
You press your finger to his lips, silencing him. The expression on his face starts to fall, like you are about to deliver devastating news.
“Salvatore, I am in love with you too. You have been the single all-consuming thought I have had since that very night.”
You both break out into a smile, finding it difficult to contain the mounting joy at your confessions and knowing that your feelings are both coveted and reciprocated.
Salvatore removes his glove and gently places his hand on your cheek, pressing and snaking his fingers around the back of your neck, thumb resting just in front of your ear. You close your eyes and lean into his touch as he wraps his other arm around your waist. You open your eyes to find him as close to you as he has ever been, lips only inches apart. “May I?” He whispers, a look of longing in his eyes.
“By all means.” A sly smile spreads across your lips as he presses his into you. You have never been kissed before and his touch sends an invigorating spark throughout your entire body. His lips are soft and hot as they work against yours. His tongue plays across your lips, begging entry and you submit to him, parting them and granting him access. His breath hitches as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him into you. This is by far the greatest pleasure you have ever known, and you feel moisture pooling at our center as you imagine what it would be like to share your bed with this man. This man that stole your heart the moment you laid eyes on him. Your heart pounds in your chest as the heat between the two of you escalates and you remember you are in a very public place. You slowly pull away, drawing your head back, your eyes meet.
“Let’s leave, you and I together, lets get our horses and just get as far away from here as we can.” You say nearly breathless. “Damn the crown and damn the house and damn the nobility, let’s flee, you and I, we are all we need.” He pulls back, placing his hands on your shoulders.
“Are you sure?” He asks, by the look on his face he must think you have gone mad.
“YES!” You exclaim, grabbing his hand and pulling him off the bench leading him back to where you hitched hour horses. He helps you into the saddle and stands by your horse. You lean down to him, caressing his stubble covered cheek in your hand, you kiss him passionately.
Suddenly a stabbing pain erupts in your belly, you grab at it with your hand, crying out in pain, falling further forward. A look of terror falls across Salvatore’s face as he clings to you. “Helena, Helena, what’s wrong, what is happening.” Everything fades to black.
You can’t speak, your head is spinning. You open your eyes and find yourself locked in the galley of the Legacy, where Renza had left you hours before, alone and bound to the floor. It was just a dream.