#royal heritage collection | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

heritageposts · 13 days

Text

What does life in North Korea look like outside of Pyongyang? 🇰🇵

Hey, I'm back again with a very scary "tankie" post that asks you to think of North Koreans as people, and to consider their country not as a cartoonish dystopia, but as a nation that, like any other place on earth, has culture, traditions, and history.

Below is a collection of pictures from various cities and places in North Korea, along with a brief dive into some of the historical events that informs life in the so-called "hermit kingdom."

Warning: very long post

Kaesong, the historic city

Beginning this post with Kaesong, one of the oldest cities in Korea. It's also one of the few major cities in the DPRK (i.e. "North Korea") that was not completely destroyed during the Korean war.

Every single city you'll see from this point on were victims of intense aerial bombardments from the U.S. and its allies, and had to be either partially or completely rebuilt after the war.

From 1951 to 1953, during what has now become known as the "forgotten war" in the West, the U.S. dropped 635,000 tons of bombs over Korea — most of it in the North, and on civilian population centers. An additional 32,000 tons of napalm was also deployed, engulfing whole cities in fire and inflicting people with horrific burns:

For such a simple thing to make, napalm had horrific human consequences. A bit of liquid fire, a sort of jellied gasoline, napalm clung to human skin on contact and melted off the flesh. Witnesses to napalm's impact described eyelids so burned they could not be shut and flesh that looked like "swollen, raw meat." - PBS

Ever wondered why North Koreans seem to hate the U.S so much? Well...

Keep in mind that only a few years prior to this, the U.S. had, as the first and only country in the world, used the atomic bomb as a weapon of war. Consider, too, the proximity between Japan and Korea — both geographically and as an "Other" in the Western imagination.

As the war dragged on, and it became clear the U.S. and its allies would not "win" in any conventional sense, the fear that the U.S. would resort to nuclear weapons again loomed large, adding another frightening dimension to the war that can probably go a long way in explaining the DPRK's later obsession with acquiring their own nuclear bomb.

But even without the use of nuclear weapons, the indiscriminate attack on civilians, particularly from U.S. saturation bombings, was still horrific:

"The number of Korean dead, injured or missing by war’s end approached three million, ten percent of the overall population. The majority of those killed were in the North, which had half of the population of the South; although the DPRK does not have official figures, possibly twelve to fifteen percent of the population was killed in the war, a figure close to or surpassing the proportion of Soviet citizens killed in World War II" - Charles K. Armstrong

On top of the loss of life, there's also the material damage. By the end of the war, the U.S. Air Force had, by its own estimations, destroyed somewhere around 85% of all buildings in the DPRK, leaving most cities in complete ruin. There are even stories of U.S. bombers dropping their loads into the ocean because they couldn't find any visible targets to bomb.

What you'll see below of Kaesong, then, provides both a rare glimpse of what life in North Korea looked like before the war, and a reminder of what was destroyed.

Kaesong's main street, pictured below.

Due the stifling sanctions imposed on the DPRK—which has, in various forms and intensities, been in effect since the 1950s—car ownership is still low throughout the country, with most people getting around either by walking or biking, or by bus or train for longer distances.

Kaesong, which is regarded as an educational center, is also notable for its many Koryŏ-era monuments. A group of twelve such sites were granted UNESCO world heritage status in 2013.

Included is the Hyonjongnung Royal Tomb, a 14th-century mausoleum located just outside the city of Kaesong.

One of the statues guarding the tomb.

Before moving on the other cities, I also wanted to showcase one more of the DPRK's historical sites: Pohyonsa, a thousand-year-old Buddhist temple complex located in the Myohyang Mountains.

Like many of DPRK's historic sites, the temple complex suffered extensive damage during the Korean war, with the U.S. led bombings destroying over half of its 24 pre-war buildings.

The complex has since been restored and is in use today both as a residence for Buddhist monks, and as a historic site open to visitors.

Hamhung, the second largest city in the DPRK.

A coastal city located in the South Hamgyŏng Province. It has long served as a major industrial hub in the DPRK, and has one of the largest and busiest ports in the country.

Hamhung, like most of the coastal cities in the DPRK, was hit particularly hard during the war. Through relentless aerial bombardments, the US and its allies destroyed somewhere around 80-90% percent of all buildings, roads, and other infrastructure in the city.

Now, more than seventy years later, unexploded bombs, mortars and pieces of live ammunition are still being unearthed by the thousands in the area. As recently as 2016, one of North Korea's bomb squads—there's one in every province, faced with the same cleanup task—retrieved 370 unexploded mortar rounds... from an elementary school playground.

Experts in the DPRK estimate it will probably take over a hundred years to clean up all the unexploded ordnance—and that's just in and around Hamhung.

Hamhung's fertilizer plant, the biggest in North Korea.

When the war broke out, Hamhung was home to the largest nitrogen fertilizer plant in Asia. Since its product could be used in the creation of explosives, the existence of the plant is considered to have made Hamhung a target for U.S. aggression (though it's worth repeating that the U.S. carried out saturation bombings of most population centers in the country, irrespective of any so-called 'military value').

The plant was immediately rebuilt after the war, and—beyond its practical use—serves now as a monument of resistance to U.S. imperialism, and as a functional and symbolic site of self-reliance.

Chongjin, the third largest city in the DPRK.

Another coastal city and industrial hub. It underwent a massive development prior to the Korean war, housing around 300,000 people by the time the war broke out.

By 1953, the U.S. had destroyed most of Chongjin's industry, bombed its harbors, and killed one third of the population.

Wonsan, a rebuilt seaside city.

The city of Wonsan is a vital link between the DPRK's east and west coasts, and acts today as both a popular holiday destination for North Koreans, and as a central location for the country's growing tourism industry.

Considered a strategically important location during the war, Wonsan is notable for having endured one of the longest naval blockades in modern history, lasting a total of 861 days.

By the end of the war, the U.S. estimated that they had destroyed around 80% of the city.

Masikryong Ski Resort, located close to Wonsan. It opened to the public in 2014 and is the first, I believe, that was built with foreign tourists in mind.

Sariwon, another rebuilt city

One of the worst hit cities during the Korean War, with an estimated destruction level of 95%.

I've written about its Wikipedia page here before, which used to mockingly describe its 'folk customs street'—a project built to preserve old Korean traditions and customs—as an "inaccurate romanticized recreation of an ancient Korean street."

No mention, of course, of the destruction caused by the US-led aerial bombings, or any historical context at all that could possibly even hint at why the preservation of old traditions might be particularly important for the city.

Life outside of the towns and cities

In the rural parts of the DPRK, life primarily revolves around agriculture. As the sanctions they're under make it difficult to acquire fuel, farming in the DPRK relies heavily on manual labour, which again, to avoid food shortages, requires that a large portion of the labour force resides in the countryside.

Unlike what many may think, the reliance on manual labour in farming is a relatively "new" development. Up until the crisis of the 1990s, the DPRK was a highly industrialized nation, with a modernized agricultural system and a high urbanization rate. But, as the access to cheap fuel from the USSR and China disappeared, and the sanctions placed upon them by Western nations heavily restricted their ability to import fuel from other sources, having a fuel-dependent agricultural industry became a recipe for disaster, and required an immediate and brutal restructuring.

For a more detailed breakdown of what lead to the crisis in the 90s, and how it reshaped the DPRKs approach to agriculture, check out this article by Zhun Xu.

Some typical newly built rural housing, surrounded by farmland.

Tumblr only allows 20 pictures per post, but if you want to see more pictures of life outside Pyongyang, check out this imgur album.

#dprk #north korea #i've had this post unfinished in drafts for almost a year #also sorry about the spelling and potential formatting issues it's a nightmare to edit at this point #it was literally just meant to be a collection of picture and then the writing just sort of happened #enjoy the brief heritageposts history lesson i guess

5K notes · View notes

snailspng · 1 year

Text

Where I find images to make into PNGs

Museum / collection websites

Rijksmuseum • Metropolitan Museum of Art • National Gallery of Art • The Walters Art Museum • Europeana • Public Domain Review • The British Library • Victoria & Albert Museum • Wellcome Collection • Risd Museum • Phoenix Ancient Art • Staatliche Kunstsammlungen Dresden • Georgian National Museum • Internet Archive • Getty Images • Louvre • Statens Historiska Muséer • Museum of Applied Arts • Royal Collection Trust • The Walters Art Museum • Science Museum Group • Kunst Historiches Museum Wien • The David Collection • MAK collection

+ pretty much any museum site with a virtual collection

Auction websites

1stDibs • Sothebys • Ruby Lane • Live Auctioneers • Christie’s • Timeline Auctions • Heritage Auctions • Auctionet • Hindman Auctions

Various

My pinterest • Worthpoint • Etsy • Shoplook • Wikimedia Commons • Replacements

Google reverse image search > “find image source” > “visually similar images”

Other PNG blogs

goobersplat • gooberscollage • vile-things • encyclopaedia-ornithonesiae • oceantoyz • transparensies • png-magician • whizpurr • adjpngs • transpareats • transparentstickers • transparenzz • pngtrash • fruit-prince • honeyrolls • bleedingthroughteeth • png-heaven

(I will be updating this list! If you have suggestions or would like to add or remove your blog from the list, message me)

#there are many more but this is a few of them #i've gotten so many asks about this so i thought a list might be fun #feel free to follow me on pinterest i just started using it more #link to it is under various #hope it helps #faq #png #pngs #moodboard #artboard #transparent #stickers #polyvore #shoplook #imageboard #collage

2K notes · View notes

blackhistorystoryteller · 9 months

Text

ALL YOU NEED TO KNOW ABOUT THE HEAD OF OBA

THE BENIN KINGDOM

THE LOOTED TREASURES BY THE BRITISH EMPIRE

BLACK HISTORY IS DEEPER THAN SLAVE TRADE

The head sculptures of the Oba of Benin, also known as the Benin Bronzes, are a collection of intricate bronze and brass sculptures created by the Edo people of Nigeria. These sculptures typically depict the reigning Oba (king) of the Benin Empire and were produced over several centuries, with some dating back to the 13th century.

They are renowned for their artistic and historical significance, representing the cultural heritage and power of the Benin Kingdom. These sculptures often portray the Oba wearing coral beaded regalia, symbolizing his divine status and authority.

Many of these artifacts were taken from Benin during the late 19th century by British colonial forces, and they are now scattered in museums and private collections worldwide. There have been ongoing discussions and negotiations regarding their repatriation to Nigeria to restore their cultural heritage.

The head sculptures of the Oba of Benin remain a testament to the rich artistic and historical legacy of the Edo people and the Benin Kingdom.

HOW THE BRITISH STOLE FROM THE EDO TRIBE

1. British Punitive Expedition: In 1897, a British expedition, led by British officials and soldiers, was sent to the Benin Kingdom (in what is now Nigeria) with the stated objective of punishing the Oba of Benin, Oba Ovonramwen, for resisting British influence and trade in the region.

2. Sacking of the Royal Palace: During the expedition, the British forces entered the royal palace in Benin City, where many of these intricate bronze and brass sculptures were housed. The palace was looted, and numerous artifacts, including the Benin Bronzes, were taken.

3. Confiscation and Dispersal: The looted artifacts were then confiscated by the British authorities and later distributed to various individuals, museums, and institutions. Many of these artworks ended up in European museums and private collections.

The theft of the Benin Bronzes remains a contentious issue, as these artworks are considered cultural treasures of the Edo people and Nigeria as a whole. There have been ongoing discussions and demands for the repatriation of these artifacts to Nigeria, which has gained momentum in recent years as part of broader efforts to address historical injustices related to colonial-era looting.

The head sculptures of the Oba of Benin, like many traditional African artworks, hold deep symbolic significance within the context of the Benin Kingdom and its culture. Here are some of the key symbols and meanings associated with these sculptures:

1. Royal Authority: The Oba's head sculptures symbolize the authority and divine status of the reigning monarch, who was regarded as a sacred figure in Benin society. The elaborate regalia, such as coral beads and headdresses, worn by the Oba in these sculptures signifies his royal and spiritual power.

2. Ancestral Connections: The sculptures often depict the Oba with distinctive facial scarification patterns and detailed facial features. These features can represent specific ancestors or dynastic connections, emphasizing the Oba's lineage and connection to past rulers.

3. Historical Record: The sculptures also serve as historical records, documenting the appearance and regalia of the Oba during their reigns. This provides valuable insights into the history and evolution of the Benin Kingdom over the centuries.

4. Spiritual Protection: Some sculptures may incorporate elements like beads and cowrie shells, which were believed to have protective and spiritual qualities. These elements were worn by the Oba not only for their aesthetic value but also for their symbolic protection.

5. Cultural Identity: Beyond their specific symbolic meanings, the head sculptures are integral to the cultural identity of the Edo people and the Benin Kingdom. They represent the rich artistic traditions and heritage of the kingdom and its rulers.

It's important to note that the symbolism of these sculptures is deeply rooted in the cultural and historical context of the Benin Kingdom, and their interpretation can vary among different individuals and communities.

#life #animals #culture #aesthetic #black history #history #blm blacklivesmatter #anime and manga #architecture #black community #black heritage

790 notes · View notes

itsswritten · 3 months

Text

when the sea calls for three | 2

Pairings: Azriel x Reader x Eris

Words: 5.1K

<<Previous Part | Masterlist | Summary

Summer Court

As the gentle sea breeze caressed your face, the soothing sound of waves crashing against the shore enveloped your senses. With eyes closed, you allowed yourself to be immersed in the tranquillity of the ocean, feeling a sense of home wash over you.

You missed the ocean, Dawn’s cities weren’t on the coast. Mainly inland, with dense red roofed buildings. Often you would take trips to visit the shoreline, get closer to that salty air that spoke sweet whispers to you. You wondered why your family hadn’t chosen Summer over Dawn, given your heritage. No, instead your family had settled hundreds of years ago within the walls of Dawn. Still, a beautiful choice.

Suddenly, a presence appeared beside you, you could sense and smell him without needing to open your eyes. Perhaps it was the way he smelt of the ocean too that made him so familiar. Tarquin stood beside you, his figure outlined against the backdrop of the sparkling sea. His dark skin seemed to glow in the sunlight, and his hair, a striking silver-white, caught the light as it cascaded around his shoulders.

"I thought I could sense it, you are a child of the sea," Tarquin remarked, a warm smile gracing his features as he finally acknowledged something he had sensed in your earlier meeting.

"That is somewhat true," you mused, gaze still fixed on the vast expanse of ocean before you. Your kinship with the sea was a connection that ran deep.

"It explains why I felt so comfortable around you," Tarquin continued, his smile widening as he spoke. You knew of his abilities, his affinity for water manipulation.

“Like calls to like” You smiled softly.

You liked the Summer Court. You had made that assumption when you first met Tarquin, and it rang true during your first visit. Adriata exuded a serene beauty, even in the aftermath of conflict. The azure rooftops contrasted elegantly against the pristine white stone, glistening like pearls under the sun's warm embrace.The air was fresh with the lick of the ocean, and its residents were all sun kissed by that glorious beacon in the sky.

Eager to immerse yourself fully in the Summer Court ambiance, you had opted for a slight change of attire, trading your previous garments from the Court meeting for something light, airy, typical of the Summer Court. Your tunic which had been adorned with threaded court symbols was now replaced with a white shirt that still held the motifs on the fabric. Flowing white trousers gracefully pooled around your feet, allowing the gentle sea breeze to caress your skin, providing a welcome respite from the sun's rays.

Tarquin had graciously arranged for your accommodation within the palace, situating your quarters conveniently close to Cressida, with whom you had been working closely with during your brief stay. Together with Tarquin and the royal siblings, you convened in a secluded office to address the concerns voiced by the Summer Court's inhabitants.

The submitted requests predominantly revolved around the loss of homes, the devastation caused by the war, and the collective hope for recovery and resilience. Pooling your collective knowledge and resources, the four of you meticulously strategize the most effective measures to support and uplift the people of the Summer.

However, you understood that true healing would require patience and perseverance. Perhaps what the people of Prythian needed most was to feel heard and understood on a larger scale, with you and Lucien as their appointed emissaries serving as their advocates.

Spending the majority of the second day immersing yourself in the community of Adriata, you couldn't ignore the overall feeling of sadness. The lingering scars of war still cast a shadow over the court, underscoring the urgent need to rebuild and restore a sense of security and happiness among its residents.

Despite their resilience, Adriata seemed to have borne the brunt of the conflict, second perhaps only to the turmoil in Tamlin's court. You were determined to offer whatever assistance you could, recognising the challenges they faced in comparison to other courts.

Your efforts to connect with the townspeople were met with initial hesitation, yet you sensed a glimmer of kinship, perhaps they could tell you were one of the same like Tarquin recognised. It only took a few hours before you had residents crying on your shoulder and children running around your feet, tugging you left and right begging for you to prioritise rebuilding a park that had been destroyed.

The weight of your role as emissary of peace became increasingly apparent. You weren’t just an Emissary of peace, but you were the emissary of the people– something that felt heavier in weight. A weight you were happy to shoulder.

You could feel it in your chest, that pride that seemed to swell at your newfound duty. Realising how you could make an impact.

And so you promised to yourself, and silently towards the vast ocean that you would always listen to those who sought out your help.

"Your people seem somewhat deflated," you observed, your voice carrying a touch of empathy as you turned your gaze back to Tarquin. "Your court, your palace, your people... they've endured so much loss."

Tarquin nodded solemnly, "Yes, the scars of war run deep," he agreed, his eyes scanning the horizon as if searching for hope. "But we are resilient, and with the support of the likes of you, I believe we can rebuild and thrive once more."

You offered him a reassuring smile, your confidence bolstered. "It's a priority to restore not just the physical aspects of your court, but also the spirit of your people," you affirmed, your voice brimming with conviction. "To ensure they not only feel safe but also find happiness in their home once again."

You understood the importance of nurturing the well-being of those under your care, of bringing light to the darkest corners and hope to weary hearts. "...With our collective efforts, I have no doubt that we can return Summer to all its glory," you declared, your words infused with determination.

You couldn’t help the smile that stretched across your lips. Every word you spoke you truly believed.

Tarquin's gaze softened as he met your eyes, a flicker of admiration dancing in his gaze. "Your optimism is contagious," he remarked, a hint of appreciation colouring his tone. "It's refreshing to have someone like you by my side, someone who sees the potential for greatness even in our darkest moments."

“A flame will always appear brighter in the shadows…” you mused.

With that, the two of you exchanged a meaningful look, a silent vow passing between you.

༄

Night Court

You arrived at River House promptly, noting the late morning meeting time with an understanding that it was typical for the Night Court. Unlike the bustling activity you were accustomed to at Dawn, Velaris seemed eerily quiet during those early hours. You had always risen with the sun, risen at dawn. It seemed your body clock may have to change during your visits here. As you prowled through the streets, hoping to connect with some of its residents, you found them few and far between. A handful of market owners setting up stalls offered brief introductions, but for the most part, the city felt deserted, as if it were a ghost town.

Welcomed into the grand foyer by a member of staff, you waited calmly, your gaze sweeping over the opulent surroundings. Your eyes lingered on the large circular table at the centre of the room, with a large display of flowers in the middle. You gently leaned forward, eyes closing as you inhaled the sweet scent before taking in the rest of the room. The twin curved staircases that ascended gracefully upwards, adorned with paintings of the inner circle on the walls.

Cute. You mused.

You knew of Feyre’s affinity for art and painting, Lucien had filled you in and you’d done your own research too. You would not be coming into this setting blind.

Your eyes drifted over the portraits of Rhys and Feyre's family, each figure rendered in exquisite detail. Among them, your gaze settled on an image that felt oddly familiar, it was your pen pal. But as you gazed at the details it felt as though you were looking at someone you knew well, there was a simmering beneath your skin.

Why did he feel so familiar?

Captured with remarkable precision by Feyre's skilled hand, his hazel eyes bore into you from beneath the layers of paint. Their intensity, almost unnerving yet strangely captivating.

Why were you so drawn to him?

Multiple footsteps echoed through the marble floors, prompting you to delicately brush down your tunic, ensuring it lay perfectly to display the intricate symbols of the courts. The tunic was one of the same from the previous meeting, but instead of silver being the base you had commissioned another version. A dark charcoal, a nod to the night court. And you have to say the designs really did pop against the smoky backdrop.

As Rhysand and Feyre entered the foyer, their presence commanded attention, followed closely by three more figures. Among them, you recognised Azriel instantly, his piercing gaze locking onto yours.

It was the second time today that his eyes had ensnared your attention.

Cassian and Nesta followed suit, their identities obvious from Lucien's descriptions.

Azriel took you in, digesting your new look. One he couldn’t deny he liked. He enjoyed seeing you in Night Court colours– his colours.

“Welcome, y/n,” Feyre greeted with a warm smile.

"Your home is beautiful. Thank you for letting me stay here," you replied graciously, returning her smile.

A shadowy fae had swiftly taken your bags moments ago, her disappearing in silence with your belongings. You assumed she was taking them to your room.

“I just thought with us working so closely together, you being close made more sense,” Feyre explained. Despite the weight of this new chapter bearing down on the entire court, Feyre had decided to spearhead this herself. She was taking the lead, determined to prove her worth as High Lady to her people and all of Prythian.

Feyre then proceeded to introduce Cassian and Nesta. You nodded at them with a polite smile, “And of course you already know Azriel” Feyre spoke.

“Hmm I do” you hummed gently on your lips, the words rolling off in a quiet melody that seemed to make Azriel’s shadows vibrate. If you hadn’t been so enraptured by his gaze you might have noticed the smirks playing on Rhy’s and Cassian’s lips as they glanced over at the exchange.

One of Azriel’s shadows had found itself under your flowing trousers, swirling around your ankle like a gentle breeze. You wondered if Azriel knew of how fond his little minions were of you.

How they often stayed longer than necessary between correspondences, how they liked to play with your hair or how they would always dance when you hummed. Leaving them reluctant to ever leave.

You wondered if they had told him that, you also wondered what he told them.

The Inner Circle graciously showed you around the River House, leading you to the room where you would be staying during your visits. Your belongings for your short trip, already unpacked and hung in the wardrobe.

Finally, you all congregated in a large office that had been designated for your use during your visits. The office was spacious, with a large table dominating the centre of the room. You settled into a seat, surrounded by the others, who were all ready to assist you in your duties.

As part of your new role, you and Lucien had initiated a proposition allowing people from across Prythian to submit their concerns, feelings, and issues. You had worked through Summer’s submissions during your visit, as Lucien was also doing with the courts under his care. Rhys conjured multiple stacks of pages onto the table with a simple click of his finger, each page representing a submission from individuals within the Night Court.

There had to be thousands. Thank the stars Feyre had enlisted the help of her inner circle, otherwise you’re not sure the both of you would have made it through them all in one day.

You couldn't help but widen your eyes at the sight, the sheer volume of submissions taking you by surprise. Tarquin's court had been demanding, but the Night Court's submissions seemed to dwarf them in comparison.

Rhys and Feyre exchanged a glance, a hint of embarrassment colouring their expressions.

You could hear their concerns in the pauses of their breaths– Had they not been effectively managing their court? Were their people dissatisfied?

Feyre looked disheartened.

"This is a general submission, covering various concerns about the peace treaty, border movements, and trade agreements," you explained gently, seeking to alleviate any tension in the room. "It's commendable that your people feel comfortable expressing their feelings. We can't address issues if people choose to remain silent."

Feyre visibly relaxed at your words, and with that, the six of you began the arduous task of sorting through the requests, categorising them based on their content.

You’re not sure how much time had passed before light conversation spread across the room. Cassian huffing and puffing at how quickly everyone else was reading through requests, while he’d only made it through three.

Azriel was opposite you, flicking through the documents meticulously. Every now and then his gaze lingering on you before moving back to the task at hand. His shadows silently helping, by moving pages to their correct piles.

You wanted his shadows to help you. You knew if you’d asked them, they’d happily oblige. They were quite forthcoming during your correspondences, but you kept your mouth sealed and worked through the pages alone.

There had been an underlying theme to the Night Court’s residents' concerns. Similar to how Summer collectively were worried about the physical rebuilding of their home, the Night Court had their own collective issue.

They didn’t want the borders to open. They didn’t want to share Velaris.

You’re not particularly surprised, Velaris had been a secret city for years. It’s inhabitants were concerned for their safety, but of course it had also bred a rhetoric of exclusivity. They didn’t want ‘outsiders’ in their home.

Feyre seemed to become more and more uncomfortable as the pile regarding border restrictions continued to grow. You could tell Rhys was trying to comfort her, most likely through that magical mating bond– but he was failing.

“They’re pushing back Rhys…” The words left Feyre’s lips sadly. Despite how progressive Rhysand and Feyre wanted to be in this new chapter, that didn’t mean their people felt the same.

Velaris, Hewn City, the Ilyarians. Everything was so segregated, you weren’t surprised in the slightest that this type of mentality had grown.

“People are scared of what they don’t know..” You glanced up to Feyre, who was looking at you now. As were all the members of the table.

“The people of Velaris won’t be the only ones who may have reservations” You continued, laying the paper in your hand back onto the table.

“So did Tarquins people also feel this way?” Feyre asked, you could hear the desperation in her words.

Please tell me it’s not just my people who are being this hostile.

You tilted your head slightly, your lips forming a tight line. “Every court will differ in their issues… Summer’s concerns were not the same as yours.”

You knew that wasn’t what Feyre wanted to hear, her mate pulled her gently into him to press a reassuring kiss on her temple. Rhys pulled away, his expression turning serious as he narrowed his gaze on you.

“What are we doing wrong?” he asked, the weight of his question palpable in the room. The High Lord was essentially asking you where he and his family were failing. It wasn’t an easy question to address, but it seemed he wanted constructive criticism.

You rolled your shoulders back as you measured the tension in the room. Sometimes criticism could be hard to digest. Intertwining your fingers you placed your hands on the table in front of you.

“I appreciate you’ve done what you had to in order to protect your court,” you began cautiously, feeling the burning stares of all five of them on you.

But you wouldn’t let them deter you. This was a part of your job.

You continued, “But I believe there are some detrimental damages that have occurred because of it.”

You felt Nesta fold her arms beside you, and noticed how Cassian fidgeted in his seat. They were not enjoying this.

“Your people are segregated,” you said, stating the uncomfortable truth. “If you are deemed worthy enough, you can live in Velaris. If not, you are trapped in Hewn.” you emphasised this by bringing one hand to the left and your other to the right, as if metaphorically representing the two cities you mentioned.

"But that’s not how it is,” Cassian interjected, his tone defensive.

You continued, unwavering. “And then the Illyrians get the freezing mountains? You must be able to see what it looks like, you must be able to understand how it may feel to be a citizen of Hewn or an Illyrian, and look at Velaris wondering why you are not able to be a part of this.”

“Perhaps even feel you are not worthy enough to be part of this. It not only breeds an elitist mindset for the citizens of Velaris but the resentment the inhabitants Hewn city harbour must be tenfold”

Cassian's demeanour shifted, growing more defensive. “You don’t understand, that’s how it has always been. Everything we’ve done, the sacrifices we’ve made were all for the greater good.”

“Every court, every person has had to make sacrifices. Let’s not sit here and start tallying, as you will be quickly humbled to realise it is not the Night Court that has lost the most,” you countered, feeling the tension in the room rise. “Nor shall sacrifice be used as a just excuse when something is not right.”

Azriel gave Cassian a subtle look, urging him to calm down.

Taking a breath, you spoke softer this time “I’m not here to judge, we can’t change what has happened. But I won’t mince my words. The way this court has existed has allowed only a certain group to prosper, and that is a problem.”

"Feyre, if you truly wish for humans to live in your court in harmony with Fae, if you want your borders to open and those who wish to travel and move freely, then things will have to change," you emphasised, your tone earnest yet firm. "If the Fae of this land can't already coexist among each other, then I don't know how opening borders or integrating humans will even be feasible."

Feyre's eyes met yours, a flicker of realisation crossing her features as she absorbed your words. It was clear that your statement had struck a chord with her.

“Then what do you propose we do, Miss Emissary of Peace?” Azriel’s question hung heavy in the air, his eyes searching yours for a solution. But it felt like a challenge.

While Cassian’s opposition had been obvious, Azriel, ever the Spymaster, had been quiet in his disagreement. He equally hadn’t been fond of the way you challenged his High Lord and Lady’s reign, but he wanted to test you. See if that sharp wit he had encountered in your correspondence could actually follow through to something more than words.

You paused, feeling the weight of Azriel's gaze on you.

Then you turned to the head of the table “Your son,” Feyre paused, a flicker of concern crossing her face at the mention of her child. “He is of studying age?”

Feyre nodded, Rhys giving you a scrutinising look. “He has tutors, yes.”

You looked at the Shadowsinger again, your eyes narrowing as your lips quipped at the edges. You would pass his test.

“I propose a school. A school for the children of Velaris, the children of Hewn,” you said, casting a meaningful glance at Cassian, “and the Illyrian children.”

At once, objections erupted around the table. Voices clamoured, expressing doubts about Illyrian participation and concerns over mingling different communities. How only High Fae had ever been the ones to have access to education, and that other groups would most likely not even care. But your focus remained on Feyre, sensing a glimmer of interest in her eyes.

“I know how stubborn people can be, how set in their ways they become over time,” you continued, addressing the room. “So we start with the children. We show them how positive change can be. Myself and Lucein both agreed adopting a human education system would be really beneficial here in Prythian. Your court is currently the only one with the means and resources.”

Despite the protests of those around the table, Feyre remained locked on your words so you continued. Knowing exactly what you needed to say to win her favour.

“I believe every child has a right to learn, to read and write, and a chance at an education. A place they can go to where they are safe, where they will be heard. A place where they can make friends, and…I guess after all this suffering and loss, shouldn’t we give all children an opportunity to just be kids?”

The room was silent now, Rhys tilted his head with a small smirk while Feyre beside him leaned forward. Cassian had gone silent too, your words silencing any oppositions he may have had. Even Nesta seemed to be reflecting on your proposition.

It was Azriel who offered you a gentle smile, all though his gaze was still dark. You had passed then. His silent test.

“A school for all children, it would be the first of its kind in all of Prythian.” Feyre beamed, looking at her mate with a glowing expression. “And maybe we could eventually welcome the humans too…and anyone else who wanted to join.”

You nodded in agreement, your vision now becoming a shared dream with the High Lady.

“I love it,” Feyre sang, her enthusiasm contagious. “But the guys are right, the people won’t agree.”

Rhys leaned forward, his expression thoughtful. “Perhaps,” he began, his voice measured, “but we can't afford to let fear and resistance dictate our actions. This is about shaping the future of our court, for all of Prythian. Fostering unity, and breaking down barriers that have long divided us.”

As chatter filled the room, you felt any lingering tension roll off your shoulders. Another successful decision was made, one that would undoubtedly surprise Lucien when he heard about it. You had gotten the Night Court to agree to opening a school on your first day, a proposal that had originally been a part of a five year plan.

Oh, the satisfaction of being able to gloat about this when you next saw Lucie.

Feyre excitedly began to discuss curriculum, subjects that would appeal to all communities. Of course she was quick to advocate that Art classes had to be a priority, and Cassian had joined in, declaring if the Ilyarins were to ever let their children attend school some kind of defensive fighting class would have to exist. Nesta was surprisingly quick to suggest Literature, the mention of the subject blazing something alight in her eyes.

“Do you always get what you want?” Azirel asked smoothly, his question going unnoticed by his busy family.

You smirked, your gaze softening on him “Always.”

༄

You don’t belong here.

The ocean doesn’t want you, we don’t want you.

Sharp talons were clawing at your skin, dragging you down to the oceans floor.

Drown, half breed. Why won’t you drown.

Dirty blood.

There’s no home for you here.

You awaken abruptly, your heart pounding in your chest, the remnants of fear lingering like a ghost. Gasping for air, you instinctively clutch at your throat, as if the claws of your nightmares still linger there.

Ready to drag you back down to the dark void of the oceans bed.

But it wasn’t real.

No, it had been real once though. Now a distant memory.

You lay there, trying to steady your breathing. It had been years since that particular nightmare plagued your sleep. It had haunted your younger years, a relentless spectre that would always find a way to creep into your dreams.

But with time, with age, you had managed to push it aside, burying it deep within the recesses of your mind.

Yet, tonight it had resurfaced with a vengeance. Perhaps it was the discussion of differences earlier in the day that had dredged up those buried fears. The submissions filled with divisive words like ‘other’, ‘outsiders’ and ‘them’ had struck a nerve, tapping into the lingering insecurities you were sure you’d grown out of.

But being 'other' was something you had become accustomed to. It was a label you had carried with you your entire life, never quite fitting in there, never fitting in here. Always straddling the line between worlds.

The land and the ocean.

You take a moment to steal a glance towards the window, greeted by the sight of the night sky, its darkness punctuated only by the twinkling stars and the soft glow of the moon. It was still night. Yet, you were wide awake. And knowing your hosts as late risers, you had a lot of time to kill.

With a sigh, you slip out of the large bed and reach for a robe hanging by the washroom. Its smooth black silk drapes elegantly around you, not wanting to leave the room in merely a night gown. Although you doubted anyone would be awake at this hour.

The need for fresh air beckons, guiding your steps towards the balcony that adjoins the living room you had explored earlier. As you step outside, a gentle breeze caresses your skin. Taking a seat in the plush couch, you find yourself mesmerised by the panoramic view of Velaris before you. The city sprawls out in all its glory, its enchanting beauty captivating even in the darkness of night.

Before you even have a chance to fully immerse yourself in the moment, a cup and pot of tea materialise in front of you, seemingly conjured by the magic of the manor. With a grateful smile, you pour yourself a cup of the steaming liquid, relishing in its comforting warmth.

It's only a matter of moments before you sensed his presence. You instinctively knew it was him. His shadows singing a whisper that you don’t even think he had been able to hear.

"You going to lurk there all night?" you tease with a playful smile, but you don’t turn to him. Your eyes fixed on the city across the river, while you sip quietly on your drink.

Azriel, perhaps surprised that you noticed him, joins you sitting at your side. His expression is tired, his usually sharp features softened by weariness. You wonder if he, too, wrestles with his own nightmares and torments that keep him awake at night.

"I understand why you did it," you speak softly, gesturing towards the city below. "It's beautiful, worth protecting. I hope you all didn't feel attacked by my observations earlier."

Azriel offers a small, understanding smile. "You have quite a sharp tongue, but you spoke the truth."

You sat with his words for a while, silence filling the air while he poured himself a cup of tea once the house had conjured him a cup.

“You always had the intention of proposing a school didn’t you?” Azriel's inquiry was direct, his eyes probing for the truth.

“It’s something Lucien and I had discussed," you admitted, meeting his gaze steadily. "We believed this court would be the most suitable place. While I hadn’t planned on suggesting it today, the solution seemed fitting given the circumstances.” As you spoke, you realised Azriel was closer than you initially thought, his presence radiating warmth beside you that almost made you move in closer to share that heat.

“But ultimately, the plan is broader," you continued. "We envision schools across Prythian, freely accessible to those who wish to attend. Schools for the littlings, and perhaps even universities for those seeking higher education. It’s a long-term plan, but I believe it could be the perfect tie to connect all the courts."

Vassa had mentioned the existence of a university on the continent, catering to humans in their early adulthood or those seeking to resume their studies. Once you and Lucien had solidified your plan for schools across Prythian, it was Tamlin to whom you proposed the idea of a university. You sensed that his court needed a beacon of hope, something to strive for. Your suggestion had the desired effect, not that you ever had a doubt. But it was how you’d managed to pull Tamlin from his depressive state. Giving him a sense of purpose and direction.

Azriel's expression softened, a hint of admiration in his eyes. "You really have it all planned out."

“Planning can only go so far though…” You paused, your thoughts drifting to the complexities of your role. It wasn’t all rainbows and schools. As if hearing your inner concerns, a cold, gentle caress brushed across your face – his shadows.

Azriel’s eyes widened slightly, watching as his shadows acted autonomously, curling around your hair and kissing your cheek.

"Well, hello, little ones. Have you missed me?" you purred playfully, eliciting a soft vibration of excitement from the shadows as they continued to fuss over you.

A soft melodic laugh left your lips, that had them stirring again.

"They seem to like you," Azriel remarked, his voice tinged with slight disbelief as he watched the shadows' unexpected display of affection.

"What's not to like?" you teased, noticing Azriel's surprise at his shadows' behaviour. "We've grown quite friendly during our correspondences. I might even consider them my friends," you added with a smile, knowing your words would only amplify the shadows' playfulness.

Friend, friend, friend.

They seemed to chant in Azriel’s ear.

“They’ve never acted like this with anyone before…” He whispered, his hand gently reaching forward to you. You didn’t move as he pulled a shadow from your hair, his rough fingers gently grazing past your throat as he did. The small action eliciting goosebumps over your body.

For a brief moment, you could have lost yourself in that delicate interaction, but a realisation dawned upon you. What he had just said was a lie.

“They’ve never acted like this with anyone before”

Lie.

But why would he lie about that? Something so small and trivial.

You could hear it in the unspoken, under his words, what it actually revealed. There had been another.

But who?

Next part >>

a/n: ummm so what do we think? Sorry if the politics are a little boring, just trying to set the plot out! This will be a slow burn, but once it gets going we'll be off for a fab ride (I promise) Also for all my Eris lovers, he'll be coming up in the next part so do not worry - Lottie xx

210 notes · View notes

thelov3lybookworm · 5 months

Note

Hi! Omg I loved reading your Rhys x reader secret pregnancy fic! May I please request a Lucien x reader where he’s been cursed to stay in the form of an actual fox and the then reader comes along to break his curse? Thank you!!

Cursed

Summary: The mother liked being cruel to Lucien. First she had him lose his eye, and now his body.

•○●⛦●○•

Tw: mention of being a child of forced intimate relation, other than that, I'm not sure there is more, so let me know if i need to add anything.

A/n: my love, my heart, my baby anon. come here so i can sing you to sleep and cuddle with you because holyyyy shit i love this idea aaaahhhhh. (i am ready to be your tumblr wifey)

also, the beginning is basically our Y/n trauma/info dumping

anyways, enjoy!

(I had fun talking to you about this @artists-ally)

•○🌑○•

A twig snapped behind Y/n, and she rolled her eyes in frustration.

After wondering for a moment if she should ignore the animal, she decided to turn to look.

There, next to a mighty tree, crouched the fox. Abnormally large, fluffier than a normal fox, it had been following Y/n around for the better part of the week.

The moment Y/n met the fox's mismatched eyes, it tensed, as if ready to bolt. But then, after a moment, it relaxed, again staring at Y/n curiously.

The problem wasn't the fact that it was a fox. No, there were plenty of foxes in the forest near Y/n's home. But those foxes didn't follow her around or sit outside her door at all hours.

This one did all of that.

She wouldn't have been much bothered if it had been a normal fox following her around. But this one had a weird aura about it, like it was not an ordinary fox.

The fox suddenly moved, slowly prowling towards Y/n. She watched it, its body moving and navigating through the roots and fallen branches graciously, as if it were an elegant lady in the royal court.

Y/n shook her head, turning away and continuing on her journey to the cluster of trees deep into the forest to collect some fruit for herself.

The fox fell in step beside her.

She did her best to ignore the animal, though its unnatural aura kept her glancing at it.

Unfortunately, it also had her distracted, and she almost didn't pull up the hood of her cloak when a mortal man walked into view, carrying a bunch of firewood on his back.

But thank the forgotten gods, the man was too busy grumbling to himself to notice the pointed tips of her ears before she covered them.

Being a half fae was hard when living among mortals.

She could get killed if anyone found out about her heritage, and that was the only real reason she had for living on the outskirts of the small town, right next to where the forest started and away from the mortals.

And honestly, she cursed whoever the bastard was that had raped her mother and sired her for the inconvenience.

But she couldn't go down that path of thought, because if she did, she would just end up on the same thought that had her staying up at night and bawling her eyes out.

She was lonely.

It had nothing to do with the solitude of her house. No. It was because she was a half fae, and while other girls her age would mingle with other young men or whoever caught their fancy, she could not do so for fear of being killed.

She also had no family, her mother having died when Y/n was still young. Y/n had no siblings or relatives who could have taken her in, and so, she had learned to take care of herself.

She had also early on learned that the world didn't take kindly to people that were even remotely different from their perception of normal.

Especially beings who had a reputation to torture innocent souls for fun.

Y/n could not blame mortals for hating fae, as she herself hated them, though for completely different reasons.

It was not the best experience when you were scorned by the people you were a part of.

Hated by mortals for being a product of human-fae union, and hated by fae for being a half breed.

She sighed, shooing those thoughts away as she reached the cluster of trees she had been on the journey to, and set down her basket for a moment, stretching.

The fox settled down under an apple tree, and simply stared at Y/n as she went about plucking different fruits and berries and piling them in her basket.

Once she was done, she turned to glance at the fox, who sat unnaturally still.

She thought for a moment, then picked out a juicy apple from her basket. "You want one?"

The fox kept staring at her, and Y/n felt silly for trying to communicate with a fox. She huffed, putting the apple back in her basket and beginning to make the journey back to her little cottage.

•○🌑○•

"Do you think it will storm?"

The fox cocked its head, staring up at the sky before making a small noise, which Y/n took as affirmation.

"I think so too."

While a month ago Y/n would have laughed at herself for talking to -trying to talk to- an animal, now it had become normal. The darn fox never left her side nowadays, and Y/n had grown fond of him, letting him into her house and keeping him fed and warm. She had even named him Rusty.

Rusty glanced at Y/n before it settled down, laying his head on her lap, snuggling into the soft and fluffy material of her thick leggings.

A small smile made its way onto Y/n's face, and her hand lifted of its own accord, burying itself into the fur on the top of his head.

Y/n still remembered how she had felt uncomfortable around the fox because of the unnatural aura it gave off, but she had gotten used to it. Now, it was a companion who Y/n simply adored.

A long moment passed, and Y/n was not entirely sure it wasn't hours, but the sky darkened just a fraction.

Y/n glanced up in confusion, because she was sure it had been brighter just a moment before. Suddenly, the warmth in her lap vanished, and Y/n's head snapped down, her brows furrowed.

Rusty was no longer next to Y/n. He was across the clearing, and Y/n could not fathom how he had crossed the vast area so quickly. Her suspicions about him grew, and she realized his body was beginning to shake.

Y/n quickly rolled to her feet, her eyes growing wide when he began spasming, a tortured whine escaping him. She could do nothing but stare as his paws dug into the soft ground, pain filled sounds continuing to rip from him.

The moment Y/n stepped forward, hoping to do something to help Rusty, his head snapped up, a low growl he emitted leaving her frozen in place. And his eyes...

They were glowing.

Unnatural, completely otherworldly brightness radiated from him, his aura becoming ten times different from what it had been.

Y/n watched, her blood chilling, as he continued to struggle until the smell of something burnt reach Y/n.

Everything stilled after that, and Rusty collapsed, breaths heaving out of him.

And, the place where his paws had been, was nothing but burnt remains of the leaves fallen from the trees

Y/n studied the fox until he had gained enough strength to stand again, and his eyes stared back at Y/n.

She swallowed as the fox prowled closer. "You are not a real fox, are you?"

Rusty swung his head from side to side, his eyes boring into Y/n.

She nodded, wondering why she was even surprised. "Are you fae?"

His head dipped.

Y/n dragged her palms down her face, trying not to lose her shit.

"Why are you here? What do you want from me?"

He cocked his head, as if questioning her how he was supposed to answer.

She released a frustrated breath, going through all the reasons why a shapeshifter would follow her around.

She could only find one reasonable reason.

"Have you... have you been cursed?"

The fox dipped his head slowly, and Y/n took a step back, horrified.

"And you are here because you... what? Want me to break you free?"

The fox whined, taking a step forward.

"No." She stepped back again, continuing until her back hit a tree. "Fuck. No. I will not be used and discarded by you too. I will not..."

The sadness in the fox's -Rusty's -eyes nearly brought Y/n to her knees, but the fox simply dipped its head again after a moment, turning and prowling away from the clearing and, in turn, Y/n.

She watched him go, his shoulders curved inwards, looking defeated.

And, despite her instincts telling her to go behind him, she turned away too, walking in the opposite direction, towards her small hut.

•○🌑○•

The windows shook, their sound a little too loud in the small home, and Y/n's fingers curled tighter on the book, the pages crinkling under her fingers.

Thunder cracked somewhere, and Y/n flinched, squeezing her eyes shut. With a sigh, she put her book away, tugging her blanket closer for warmth. She turned to look out the window, where it was completely dark, not one tree visible.

And, despite her attempts at trying to ignore her worries about Rusty, she could not help but wonder where he was.

Was he somewhere in the forest, getting soaked by the rain, shivering?

Was he wandering around hopelessly, hoping someone took pity on him?

Y/n shook her head, telling herself she did not care.

But of course, she did.

Since the moment she had turned away from his retreating form, she had not been able to think about anything but him.

Y/n had never had anyone that particularly cared about her, so having even a damned fox use her for his own gain cut something deep in her heart.

But then a thought occurred to her, and all her feelings of betrayal were forgotten.

What if it is a child?

Or what if it is just like me, never had anyone who cared?

What if he gets incinerated in the storm by lightning?

Oh fuck it.

The second to last thought was what snapped Y/n's restraint, and she grabbed her cloak, lit a lantern, and set off to find her Rusty.

•○🌑○•

The rain made it even harder to see in the night, but Y/n soldiered on, determined to rescue the damsel in distress. Though the damsel was a male and could probably not be in distress.

He could have found a cave to snooze in, and Y/n was setting herself up to be sick for nothing.

Her heart didn't seem to care for that judging by the way it was screeching in her ears.

A flash of light caught Y/n's eyes, and she stilled, lifting her lantern higher, hoping she had finally found the sneaky bastard.

It was just a piece of glass, and Y/n cursed whoever had thrown it here.

After a long time of searching, Y/n spied a gap in the trees, knowing it led to a small cliff. Her instincts told her to follow the trail, and she decided trusting her heart was the better option than trusting her brain.

She had decided to ignore her heart in that clearing, and now she was stuck in a storm.

Lightning brightened the world for a moment, and Y/n lifted her hand to shield herself as she reached the cliff.

Unfortunately, Rusty was not there as well.

Frustrated, Y/n sighed, turning away from the drop.

And then she paused, her eyes landing on a bush.

Under which lay Rusty, shivering and curled in on himself.

Guilt spread through Y/n, and she stepped closer with caution.

His eyes flew open, his teeth bared as he searched around for a predator.

His eyes widened when he realised it was Y/n who stood in front of him now, and he ducked his head, as if ashamed.

Y/n walked forward, and watched as his shoulders curved inwards, trying to make himself small.

She crouched, extending her hands towards him, and he stared at it for a moment, then at Y/n before taking a tentative step closer, gaining more confidence when her hand remained unwavering. He stopped a few with his face a few inches away from her hand, and she reached out to pet his nose.

"Come," she whispered, "let's go home."

He stared at her for a moment longer, and Y/n felt like there were tears in his eyes, but she couldn't be sure because it could very well be rain water.

Navigating the forest to return home was much easier and faster than it had been searching for Rusty, and Y/n was glad about that, as she could think of nothing but changing into warm clothes and getting warmed in front of her fireplace now that she had finally found Rusty. Also, she had to wash Rusty and feed him. It had been long since he had left and Y/n doubted that he had eaten anything.

As soon as Y/n stepped foot inside her home, she shucked off her cloak, setting down her lantern and turning to find that Rusty still hadn't crossed the threshold.

"Come on in, Rusty."

She beckoned to him, and he trotted in, shaking his head to get rid of the water.

"Let's get you into a warm bath first."

Y/n hurried into the bathing room and turned on the faucets, letting the tub fill with warm water. Feeling eyes on her, she glanced back to see Rusty sitting patiently by the door, like a gentleman. Y/n smiled.

"Get in." She told him when the water had filled to the point she knew he liked. "I will go and get changed, and you get yourself cleaned up until then. We can have food after."

At the last part, his head snapped up, his eyes wide. But then he jumped into the tub, and Y/n was left to wonder why he seemed so shocked.

•○🌑○•

Y/n wrapped the tiny towel around Rusty, giggling at how funny he looked before she placed the red coloured bowl in front of Rusty, his favourite.

She stared at him as he began eating, and stared, and stared.

The air changed the moment he took his first bite, growing thicker and heavier with every moment that passed.

Confused, Y/n glanced behind her, and when she turned back to rusty, she let out a small scream.

In the place that Rusty had been occupying, sat a man... naked.

Y/n had never climbed to her feet so quick in her whole life as she did then, covering her eyes. But then she peeked out from between her fingers, seeing him blushing furiously while trying to cover up his private parts with the tiny towel. It was barely enough to cover up his chest, so he had to hold it with both hands like a curtain in front of his hips.

"Who the hell are you?" Y/n screeched.

She noticed now that he had hair like liquid flame, his eyes were mismatched, and he was... fae.

Realisation washed through Y/n.

"You- You're Rusty."

He grimaced. "Yeah, though I am a little concerned with that name. Can we please not use that? Like, Rusty? Really?"

Y/n let her hands fall to her side, settling on her hips. "You bastard, you should be grateful I let you stay and gave you a name. Imagine how weird it would have been in if I called you fox."

"Yeah, I think that would have been better than Rusty."

Y/n scoffed. After a moment, she spoke again, struggling hard to keep her gaze on his. She deserved a fucking medal for it.

"So... what was your curse? And who had so much free time to put one on you?"

A hint of a smile appeared on his face. "Don't you think this is kind of inappropriate to talk about while I'm naked?"

Y/n rolled her eyes as she moved past him, walking into her bedroom. "You never had a problem before when you pranced about, wooing all the female foxes."

She was now sure he was grinning when he replied. "Yeah well, they didn't wear any clothes either. If you were to strip..."

Y/n whipped around from where she was rummaging in her closet for something to gape at him. He grinned, leaning against the doorframe, his hands folded against his chest.

That meant-

Y/n turned away from him just as fast as she had turned to him, and no matter how much she denied it, the image of him... it would be forever embedded in her mind.

"Asshole." She mumbled under her breath, her hand landing on a piece of clothing she was unfamiliar with.

It was a pant she had stolen years ago, and later realised it had been too big for her. It would have to do.

Without turning, Y/n threw the pants over her shoulder, and by the lack of sound, knew Rusty had caught it.

It was a few moment before he hummed, letting her know he was done, and Y/n turned, her mouth going dry at all the muscle displayed.

She hadn't had the time to appreciate what she saw before, as she was trying not to make a fool of herself by staring at his privates, but now that he was covered from the waist down, she could not help but stare at what she could see.

"Like what you see?"

Y/n's eyes flashed up, colour staining her cheeks as she huffed.

"Of course not. You are still Rusty for me, and I'd never think of someone called Rusty as anything I like."

He scoffed. "Please, my name is Lucien. I'd appreciate it if you stop referring to me as Rusty."

She lifted her chin defiantly. "No."

He sighed. "Very well, my lady. If that is what you wish for. After all, you broke my curse, I can't really order you around anymore."

"Yes, about that curse. Care to elaborate now that you are appropriate?"

He nodded, a seriousness coming over him. He followed her as she led him back out, settling down in front of the fireplace as she boiled some water for tea.

Once the tea was ready, Y/n passed one cup to Rusty- Lucien- and studied him, watching as he fumbled a little with the cup before he got a good grip on it.

"Let's start from the beginning." She nodded her head for him to continue. "Do you remember the most recent war that happened?"

She nodded. The destruction had been immense, according to what she had heard through rumours, but she lived far enough away from the wall that no harm reached her.

"There was a continent called Hybern. One of my closest friends was pretending to aid Hybern so he could gather intel about the kingdom's and the king's inner workings so he could help Prythian when the inevitable war came. Soldiers from Hybern had stolen the cauldron from its resting place in Prythian, and they knew that it could make anyone young and immortal."

"What is the cauldron?"

Lucien glanced at Y/n with raised brows, but explained to her what the cauldron was, who the mother was, and all the things that probably didn't matter to the story just because she didn't know about them.

A power like that? People would kill for it. Y/n thought.

"My friend's past lover, who had been mated to another high lord, arrived in Hybern, and realised her sisters had been kidnapped. The king ordered the sisters to be put into the cauldron. One of them turned out to be my... mate."

The jealousy that ripped through Y/n was unmatched from anything she had ever felt. And for what? The mention of someone she did not even know? Ridiculous.

"The older one, she apparently took something from the cauldron, in turn making the cauldron take away the youth from the human queen put in after her. The queen was furious, and she allied with a powerful death sorcerer."

"He found out about my... relationship with one of the sisters, and before we killed him, put a curse on me, because I was standing the closest to him. He turned me into a fox, and I could only be turned back if someone who loathed fae gave me shelter and food, even after knowing I was fae."

"Powerful death sorcerer, and all he could think of for his last breath was to turn you into a fox." Y/n muttered under her breath.

A breathy laugh escaped Lucien, which then full on turned into howls of laughter.

"So, what, your mate could not help?"

"She probably could have, given she couldn't bear being near me, but she wouldn't have. Me being a fox gave her freedom to pursue whomever she wished."

Y/n sighed. "Is everyone from the other side of the wall dumb?"

He shook his head, staring into the embers of the fire, though a smile remained on his mouth. Y/n glanced out the window, realising the sun was starting to rise.

"We should probably get some sleep."

Lucien followed her gaze to out the window, and he nodded.

"I will take the couch, you should sleep on your bed."

"Nonsense. You have been invading my space for the past month like your life depends on it. It won't be a big deal if you sleep next to me."

"Sleep next to you, not with you?"

"You know what? You can sleep on the porch."

He laughed, standing and pulling Y/n to her feet.

He leaned down, pressing his lips to her cheek.

"Thank you."

Y/n blushed, shaking her head.

"I will leave as soon as I can."

Hurt pierced Y/n's heart like a bolt from hell. "Why?"