Private Tales Woman Under The Earth

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
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Deep within the woods, where the trees rustled in the wind and the ground was cloaked in a tapestry of amber and crimson leaves, a figure began to emerge from the earth. The air, thick with the scent of damp moss and decaying foliage, seemed to hold its breath as she rose, her form slowly unfurling from a deep slumber.

Around her, the forest sighed with recognition, as if it had been waiting for her return.

Twigs and fallen leaves tangled in her hair, and with each breath of the crisp autumn breeze, her eyes regained colour. In distant memory she could hear voices, faint echoes of screams interrupted by the sound of creatures stirring in the underbrush. Meanwhile, the evening sun filtered through the branches above, casting specks of shadow on the forest floor and illuminating the path ahead of her – a path she was reluctant to walk upon.

Suddenly she was overcome by a sense of confusion, and her mind struggled to regain memories that seemed just out of reach. Had she been gone for entire seasons or mere moments? The world around her had changed, yet something deep within herself remained tethered to the past. The whispers of the forest urged her to remember, but the edges of those memories were blurred, lost in the passage of time.

Amaryllis stirred, lifting herself out of her temporary grave.

Something wasn’t right.

No, not at all.

Something was terribly wrong.
 
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Lorcan stood on the balcony of his chambers, eyes fixed on the distant horizon where the golden warmth of Summer Court lay far beyond sight. The twilight skies of Autumn were rich with the colours of dying embers, and the wind, sharp and biting, swept over him with a reminder of everything he had to lose. It was on that very wind he had sent his messages, borne on crimson maple leaves enchanted to find her.

But none had returned. None had come back with even the faintest hint that Amaryllis had received them.

The swirling ink on his arm pulsed gently with magic, the floral mark still as bright as the day they’d made their vow of friendship. That promise—their bond—remained unbroken. Yet, the silence from her end had grown deafening, each day a louder echo of absence.

Years.

He had lost count of how many messages he had whispered into the wind, sent on the wings of scarlet leaves to seek her out in the deepest reaches of her slumber. And now, as the specter of war loomed between Autumn and Summer, his desperation had grown. He feared for her. Feared for the quiet that still clung to the bond, no matter how fiercely he reached for her through it.

'Ama, I need to speak with you.'

The wind carried that same desperate message again and again. He remembered the last time they had spoken—before the world had changed, before she had gone to ground, lost to sleep. She had promised him she would return as she always had, that she would awaken when the time was right. When the seasons called her back.

He stared down at the last of the crimson leaves in his hand, the vibrant red matching the maple tree in which he had been hiding when she had first met him so long ago. He had sent hundreds like it on the wind, enchanted to find her, to deliver his words to wherever she rested. They never came back. They simply blanketed her in her slumber.

Each time, his words were different, but the meaning always the same.

Wake up, Ama.

Please.


Now, surrounded by the dying light of another day, Lorcan felt a chill that went deeper than the autumn air. He feared what she would wake to. The Autumn Court was preparing for war, the tension between the seasons rising to an unbearable heat. Soon, the balance between them would break, and if Summer fell before he could reach her—before he could warn her— he couldn't forgive himself.

But still, the silence remained.

Lorcan clenched his jaw and closed his eyes, focusing on the oath upon his arm. She was there—somewhere. He could feel it, a faint spark, a presence just beyond reach. She was alive, but how much longer would that be true if she didn’t wake?

He opened his eyes and released the final leaf into the breeze, watching it flutter away, carried far and fast towards the distant woods where Summer slept.

“Ama,” he whispered into the wind, “it’s time to wake up..”

As the leaf disappeared into the darkening sky, Lorcan could only hope this one would reach her. There was no more time left to wait. The war was coming, whether she was ready or not.
 
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Her eyes were heavy and her lids ached after a three year long period of dormancy. Amaryllis inhaled deeply and, almost clumsily, began to move. Immediately she felt soreness in her muscles, and a weariness to her bones so unfamiliar and foreign that her heart began to beat loudly in her chest. Amaryllis reached up, pulled herself through the thicket and as her bare feet trembled against the cold earth she realised that this was not her home – that this was not the court of summer.

The princess was known to be pure-hearted and innocent – not simple by any means, but certainly an uncomplicated and easy-going royal. And if it wasn’t for the fact that Amaryllis was a millennia-old entity, with access to what some speculated was an infinite well of power, then perhaps it would have made sense for her to feel so…helpless. But it didn't.

Where am I?

Her mind raced to understand, but Amaryllis could not shake the disorienting fog that clouded her thoughts and held back her memories. Wherever I am, I’m fine, the fae princess reassured herself with false certainty as she took a few steps around the area. These were vast woodlands, with tall trees and strange plants and although none were native to her court, Amaryllis did recognise almost all of them – it simply took her a moment. This was Spring, and while she was uncharacteristically far away from home, the distance was manageable.

I simply overslept, she thought, I always do.

Stage 1: Denial.

Surely Faolan isn’t far, Amaryllis’ continued and turned around to look for her personal guard. But as her lips parted to call his name, no sound emerged and when she tried to force it, a sharp cough erupted instead.

Ignoring her discomfort, Amaryllis sat down and placed both her hands on the ground, silently reaching into the depths of the earth until she could feel the magic pulsating below. Her fingers traced intricate patterns through the fallen leaves until invisible threads finally connected her to a source of life. With a soft hum, the soil responded to her call and fresh, clear water began to bubble up. Amaryllis drank hungrily and with every gulp, colour returned to her cheeks.

She cleared her throat once more. “Faolan!” Amaryllis called out loudly, repeating the Knight Captain's name several times without receiving a response. This genuinely surprised her, for Faolan was perhaps the most reliable person she’d met in her entire life. And not only was he reliable, but loyal too. The red-haired fae would never have left his princess to her own devices, especially not so far away from home. Bewildered by this, Amaryllis continued to search for her guardian until she realised she had indeed been abandoned.

Not by Faolan of course, but Amaryllis didn’t know that.

As the hours went by and Amaryllis failed to find a way home, the princess had no choice but to use her powers to safeguard what little daylight she had left, until she couldn’t anymore and night fell. Soon, her eyes fluttered closed and her limbs grew sluggish and even though Amaryllis clawed for consciousness, sleep once again pulled her under.

–––

“..it’s time to wake up.”

Her eyes snapped open wide and she jolted awake, her heavy heart pounding away the last bits of slumber. Adrenaline surged through her veins, and she almost couldn’t believe that she had been so disheartened by Faolan’s absence that she had given up on trying altogether, when there were others who cherished her, others who would lend her a helping hand if she ever needed it.

But right now, that wasn’t what Amaryllis wanted, for the safety she sought could only come from someone most special to her heart, someone who was closer to her soul than almost anyone else.

A chill was felt, followed by a breeze carrying a single, scarlet leaf. Amaryllis didn’t hesitate and caught it with no effort. Flames burst from in between her fingers, and the fire crackled viciously as its flickers illuminated the dark lands around her, rapidly growing into a tall inferno that licked at the sky.

Amaryllis felt a tickle on her right shoulder, where the promise of their eternal friendship was etched into her skin. Their bond did not dramatically snap back into place, however, instead it achingly twisted back into its former position after having been dislocated for a long time and unnaturally so.

And despite knowing that nothing could tarnish this sacred link, Ama’s first words to Lorcán were an apology, for she knew that she had a lot of missing time to account for.

“Forgive me,” she pleaded. “I’m awake now. Please find me?”
 
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Then, like a whisper carried by the breeze, her voice brushed across his mind.

"Forgive me. I’m awake now. Please find me."

His heart stopped.

“Ama…”

The sound of her voice, so clear, so achingly familiar, filled the empty space around him. The bond on his arm—dormant for years—suddenly flared with life. The knot in his chest that had been tightening for so long finally loosened, but with it came a surge of urgency.

Lorcan pressed his hand to the ink on his arm, feeling the warmth of their promise rekindle. It wasn’t just magic—it was a lifeline. It had always been a lifeline, when he had needed it most. He closed his eyes and focused, reaching for her with every ounce of power he had, weaving his voice through the connection.

“I’m coming. Stay where you are.”

The wind picked up, stirring the autumn leaves around him as his resolve solidified. There was no more waiting, no more hoping she would find her way back. It was up to him now.

A familiar sensation rippled through his spine—sharp, electrifying, and powerful. He didn’t hesitate. The ground beneath him disappeared as large, raven wings burst from his back, unfurling in a cascade of shimmering black feathers. The wind caught beneath them, lifting him effortlessly into the air.

His wings beat hard against the cool night breeze, cutting through the crisp autumn sky with a speed he hadn’t called upon in years. The horizon stretched out before him, dark forest and fading twilight. Trees shifted from the bronze and gold hues of Autumn into the vibrant greens and soft blossoms of Spring, the boundary between their realms marked only by a subtle change in the air.

The scent of earth and dew, mingled with the faintest traces of wild magic, filled the air as he descended into the dense woods. And there, amidst the towering trees and scattered moonlight, flame flickered in the distance, casting a warm, familiar glow.

Lorcan landed silently, the soft rustle of his feathers the only sound as he folded his wings back. His eyes found her immediately—Ama, standing in the clearing, bathed in the soft light of the fire she had summoned. She looked weary, worn from her long sleep, but she was alive.

Amaryllis,” he whispered, his voice catching as relief flooded through him.

Without another word, he crossed the distance between them, his heart pounding with the weight of everything left unsaid.
 
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For Amaryllis, each breath came slow and uneasy. A strange lethargy clung to her, weighing down her limbs and scattering the fragments of her memory. At night, the scent of damp moss and pine woods tinged the air and even though her feet were firmly pressed into the soft soil, Ama’s mind had wandered adrift. In her hand, the flame she had summoned burned brightly and as she got lost in its colours, the trees surrounding her quietly stood watch.

“I’m coming. Stay where you are.”

When Lorcán’s voice broke the silence, a smile bloomed on the princess’s face. A wave of comfort washed over Amaryllis, and her worries faded to the back of her mind, replaced by eager anticipation for his arrival.

Amaryllis felt Lorcán’s presence long before the prince of autumn stepped into view, and her heartbeat quickened in response to his energy filling the air. When he finally stood on the edge of the clearing, the light of her flame filtered through the trees and cast a warm glow on his face. The immense relief in his voice surprised her, but it was the look in his eyes that made her pause all together.

His eyes carried the weight of all those years she had no recollection of and suddenly she couldn’t shake the feeling that she had slept through something important – something he had been living through every day.

“Please,” she began and opened her arms to welcome him. “No need for formalities.” He moved to embrace her and she sighed into their hug, feeling as though a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

The prince appeared distinctly out of sorts and Amaryllis’ intuitively moved to pet his hair gently, comforting him through their bond. “There there,” she spoke softly and gave him a warm smile. “Tell me, what made you so upset?” Her knees and feet were dirtied, and there were still a few small branches and leaves sticking out of her usually so well-kept hair and although the irony of the situation wasn’t lost on Amaryllis, she couldn’t help but let her nurturing instincts take over.

“I’m sure whatever it is, it’s nothing a good cup of tea won’t fix. Why don’t we return to my palace, and I’ll make you your favourite, yes?”

Going home was a good idea – probably the best idea she had in a while. And Faolan wouldn’t scold her as much when Lorcán was with her. Amaryllis was clueless as to why her knight hadn’t made any attempts to contact her yet, but it only made her want to return to his side sooner.
 
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Lorcan felt the warmth of Amaryllis’s embrace envelop him, a soothing balm against the turmoil that raged within. Her gentle touch, the instinctive way she comforted him, stirred emotions he thought long buried beneath the weight of his responsibilities. He closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the reassurance that came from their connection, but the truth loomed heavy on his heart, ready to shatter the fragile peace they had just found.

“Ama…” he began, pulling back slightly to meet her gaze. Her bright eyes held a glimmer of innocence he yearned to protect, yet the burden of the past three years pressed down upon him like an anvil. So much had transpired while she was lost to the world, and the joy of her awakening was darkened by the shadows of what awaited them.

“I… I cannot return to the Summer Court, Ama.” The words tumbled from his lips, each one like a stone cast into still water, sending ripples of concern across his features. How would she react to what he’d done?

“They want me,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, the weight of his revelation echoing like thunderclaps in the silence surrounding them. “They want me dead. It’s not safe there—neither for me nor for you. I…” He hesitated, drawing in a deep breath to steady himself, the gravity of his circumstances pressing hard against his chest. “They took my mate… Yes, I have a mate. They captured her and tortured her to get to me. I’ve done terrible things, Ama.”

His throat tightened as he continued. “There’s a war coming, and I had to find you, to get you somewhere safe because I couldn’t bear the thought of you being caught in the crossfire…” He dropped his gaze, cutting himself off, the weight of his past actions flooding back. He had already attacked her court once in a moment of rage, causing damage he couldn’t undo.

“I’m sorry you had to wake to this…” he murmured, the shame and regret evident in his tone as he avoided her gaze, fearful of the anger or disappointment he might find reflected in her eyes.
 
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They stood in front of each other and the warmth of their hug still lingered in the space between them. After he pulled back, Amaryllis carefully studied the face of the boy she’d known since he was a kid. He was all grown up now – rough around the edges, with a sharp tongue and a rebellious spirit. Life hadn’t been too kind to Lorcán, but beneath the weight of his responsibilities, his heart was still good and he was still as tender as he had been since he was a child. Amaryllis adored him all the same.

Sorrow laced his words, and his furrowed brows gave her reason for concern. Lorcán, who was often so confident and self-assured, seemed to struggle with his words. The two of them had been friends, bound by an unbreakable promise, for centuries and communication was perhaps the strongest aspect of their alliance. Usually it was Amaryllis who talked a lot, whereas Lorcán was happy to listen. A smile tugged at her lips, and she gave his shoulders a reassuring squeeze.

“As long as the summer court is my home, it will always be a place for you to return to,” she said with conviction.

Of course Amaryllis had no way of knowing what had conspired between her family and Lorcán’s in the time that she’d been gone – she still didn’t even know how long she had been asleep in the first place, and there was still that whiff of ignorance hanging over her. What the autumn prince said next was well beyond anything she could have ever imagined.

For a few moments they simply stood in silence, the weight of his words hanging heavily between them. Her heartbeat sped up, and surprise and disbelief flooded her mind. Deep down, Amaryllis knew it was true. They didn’t lie to one another, and the truth was written in his eyes. Her thoughts spun wildly, but her body was frozen in place, as if any movement might shatter this fragile peace between them. “A.. a mate? Lorcán, that’s wonderful,” she whispered and gave him a warm smile. “I’m so happy that you’ve found someone, I just wish you would have told me sooner, so I could have prepared a gift…,” she shook her head and dismissively waved her hand.

“It’s not a problem. I shall host a ball in celebration…and no costs will be spared. And we will only invite people that you like! I can get it done in just a few days, but it would be best if you could introduce us first and I can inquire for her preferred colour palette.”

The words came bubbling out of her without pause, and her subconscious mind had purposefully filtered out the crucial information he had given her, focusing on what she wanted to hear instead.

Truth be told, Princess Amaryllis wasn’t good at dealing with conflict, tragedy or any of that sort – because she never had to. Titania had bravely shouldered the burden of being ruling royalty since their mother had passed, and as her darling baby sister, Amaryllis never had to concern herself with anything even remotely stressful. As a result, she couldn’t even come close to comprehending that something so awful as what Lorcán was telling had happened, and had simply shut down instead.
 
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Lorcan’s heart twisted as he watched the familiar brightness spark in Amaryllis’s eyes, her voice bubbling with excitement as she began planning a ball, a celebration—talking of colors and guests as if everything was still as it once was. For a fleeting moment, he allowed himself to bask in her warmth, the comfort of her optimism. But the stark reality of his words, the gravity of what he had confessed, lay unacknowledged between them like an invisible chasm.

She wasn’t hearing him, or if she was, she was trying her best to ignore it.

“Ama…” he began gently, his voice wavering, but she pressed on with her ideas, her radiant smile unfaltering, unaware of the darkness threatening to swallow them whole.

He couldn’t bear it any longer. The illusion she clung to, the world she believed she had woken up to, had already crumbled—and he had to make her see it.

“Amaryllis.." His hands gripped her shoulders, a firmness in his touch that mirrored the urgency in his voice. “Listen to me.” He held her gaze, his dark, golden eyes storming with emotions that he couldn’t contain any longer. “No ball..No gifts..Not right now..”

He swallowed hard, his words falling heavy between them. “I want you to come home with me to Endora, where it's safe."

His heart hammered in his chest, and he searched her face, hoping to see some flicker of comprehension, of understanding. “I’ve… I’ve destroyed parts of your palace. I’ve killed people—your people.” His voice dropped, a rawness creeping into his tone as he spoke. “I can’t go back. They want me dead. The war isn’t coming, Ama. It’s already here.."

The silence that followed felt suffocating. Lorcan’s chest tightened, his grip loosening slightly on her arms, his voice now hoarse from the weight of his confession. “You need to understand… everything has changed. I'm sorry you had to wake to this.. But you can't ignore it, Ama.”
 
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Lorcán’s voice cut through her babbling, low and insistent. He begged her to listen, to understand and Amaryllis responded by clenching her jaw, eyes fixing on the distant trees. “Lorcán, I-,” she began, but her voice cracked and with it, her carefully constructed illusion slowly shattered.

He firmly gripped at her shoulders, willing her to see reality for what it was and she eventually gave up her resistance. The truth was everywhere. Tangled in the branches, hidden beneath the leaves and crawling underneath her skin. “Please,” she whispered and lowered her head in shame.

Their bond was built on friendship, trust and promise – the promise to listen to each other, always. To never turn the other away, and to offer acceptance where others would never.

She almost couldn’t bear to face him. Amaryllis’ shoulders slumped and she sighed wearily, a small hand reaching up to wrap around his wrist, finding consolation in their skinship. “I just don’t understand,” she spoke quietly, but her words were more firm now, a sense of clarity slowly returning to her voice.

“I didn’t mean to sleep that long, I’m not even sure I meant to sleep at all.”

When Amaryllis finally looked up, her features were grief-ridden and the princess looked absolutely miserable. “Someone buried me, Lorcán,” she whispered, suddenly fearful that nowhere was safe anymore – nowhere except Endora. “I woke up in the dark, and I had to dig myself out of a grave, and Faolan isn’t here and now you’re telling me there is war?” Her voice trembled with every word, and although she was beginning to accept their new reality, there was no way she could make sense of it.

Bonds were complicated, because in spite of the absurdity of the situation, Amaryllis knew that he’d spoken the truth, and nothing but the truth. There was no room for doubt, and yet she couldn’t help but cling to disbelief as their situation was much more difficult to grasp.

When he admitted to the killings, the tears began to fall. She didn’t care about the stupid palace, and the millennia of history it represented. She didn’t care about the memories she had of her mother, and how they’d walked those very halls together until her passing. The halls she had grown up in, her home. She did, however, care about her people. The fae under her care and protection, the folk she and Titania had sworn to guide and protect – living beings who relied on their rule and wisdom.

And when Lorcán was forced to defend his family against her own, she’d simply slept.

“I don’t resent you for this,” she reassured him quickly, and without hesitation. “For I know that you did not do this without reason. But why would anyone hurt you, knowing how much we care for each other?” Amaryllis and Lorcán had been bonded since he was a child, and her affection for the autumn prince was well known around their courts. Although their friendship had faced some scrutiny in the past, no one had ever dared to question two people of their rank.

“I’ll come to Endora with you,” she eventually agreed. “To meet your mate and…to learn of everything that I have missed.”
 
Lorcan’s grip softened as Amaryllis finally began to let the truth sink in. The shift in her posture, the crack in her voice—he saw the moment her illusion crumbled, and it hurt more than he had expected. His heart ached for her, for everything she had lost in the span of a few moments. She had always been a bright light in the world, and now that light seemed dimmed by the weight of everything she had woken up to.

When she admitted to waking in a grave, his jaw tightened. His mind flashed back to the years of searching, the sleepless nights spent scouring for any trace of her, only to find nothing but whispers. Someone had hidden her away, locked her in the dark. Anger surged within him, but it was quickly smothered by the sorrow in her voice, by the tears now streaming down her face.

“Ama…” he whispered, his voice barely audible, filled with the kind of tenderness he had reserved for only her, for so long. He wanted to pull her close again, to shield her from all the horrors she had missed, to protect her. But he knew there was no shielding her now—she was already standing in the wreckage.

When she spoke of not resenting him, of not holding his actions against him, he nearly faltered. She forgave him so easily, understood so quickly, as if she hadn’t even given it a second thought. The weight of his guilt was still there, heavy and suffocating, but her words soothed a small part of him. At least she didn’t hate him—not yet.

But when she asked why anyone would want to hurt him, knowing the bond they shared, he struggled to find an answer that made sense. How could he explain the intricacies of the politics, the power plays, the hatred that had built up over centuries? How could he tell her that even the deepest bonds could be torn apart by fear and ambition?

He took a deep breath, his gaze softening as he looked at her tear-streaked face. “I'm sorry, my friend.” His hands slipped from her shoulders, one falling to his side while the other gently brushed a stray tear from her cheek. “I failed you, Ama. I couldn’t stop it. And I hate that you’ve been dragged into it now.”

When she agreed to come with him to Endora, a flicker of hope sparked in his chest. He needed her to be safe, and for now, Endora was the only place that might offer that. But the thought of introducing her to his mate, of explaining the full extent of what had happened, weighed heavily on him.

“You’ll be safe in Endora, I promise you that.” He searched her eyes, wanting to believe that he could keep her out of harm’s way this time. “And I’ll tell you everything that I can."

He stepped closer, drawing her in to a gentle embrace, a gesture of comfort and familiarity, the way they had done since he'd been lost child. It was time for him to keep her safe.

"Let's go."
 
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Lorcán, please.” Her tears had dried and a small smile tugged at her lips as his words sank in. “You mustn’t apologise to me. I received more love from you than most other people in my life, and there will never be anything to forgive between us.” And she meant it. Even if Amaryllis couldn’t understand everything he was going through – and vice versa – she still trusted him to make every choice to the best of his ability and for this, he would always have her full support.

Without a hint of hesitation he had promised her protection and the safety of his home. It warmed her heart so much she felt it in the cold tips of her fingers. “I know how lucky I am to have met you first, out of all possible people, after enduring what I have, but do not forget which one of us is the elder.” She gave his earlobe a little squeeze and sustained her smile for another moment.

Her gentle scolding was overshadowed by concern, however, for she had never seen the autumn prince so crestfallen and the sight was sobering. If there was ever a time where she needed to be strong for the two of them, it was now. Amaryllis still did not understand how things could have gone so awry in such a short while, but she trusted that Lorcán would explain it all. Her gaze softened, lingering on him as her mind drifted off to remember happier times and good memories that kept her heart in quiet contentment.

The two fae embraced one another, and she tenderly rubbed his back in quiet reassurance. With her face now hidden from his view, Amaryllis’ smile faltered and her thoughts began to spin.

She did not like the idea of Lorcán sacrificing any more than what he already had, fighting any more battles or doing anything related to the summer court’s crimes for that matter. In the past, her pacifist nature had often been the catalyst for baseless assumptions about what the princess could and could not do, but just because Amaryllis did not want to fight, it certainly didn’t mean that she wouldn’t do anything in her power to protect the people she cared for.

The two of them had stood in silence for some time, when Amaryllis decided to take one last look back. There, beneath the earth, lay the grave that had been meant to keep her hidden from the world forever. A chill ran down her spine when she remembered the darkness, and the weight of the soil pressing down on her limbs from every side. Eventually, acceptance settled into her core; the grave had held her captive, but it wouldn’t keep her forever.

She steadied herself and turned back towards Lorcán. “To Endora.”
 
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Lorcan held her tightly, feeling her warmth seep into him as if it were the last light in a world growing dim. For so long in his youth, he had been adrift, carrying a guilt he couldn’t shake and a grief that weighed on him like stone. Her gentle reassurance, her quiet strength—they had grounded him, and he closed his eyes, savouring the moment, committing it to memory.

When she teased him about her age, her hand playfully squeezing his ear, a faint smile tugged at his lips. It was such a small gesture, yet it pulled him back to memories of simpler days, when there was no war, no bloodshed, and their bond had been untarnished by the darkness of court politics. He chuckled softly, the sound rough and weary, but genuine. “Age doesn’t matter when you’re as stubborn as I am. Besides, I’m still taller,” he smirked, and his dimple deepened.

But as her expression softened, he saw her gaze shift to something distant, and he sensed the resolve in her words, her quiet promise to be strong—for him, for herself, and for all those they both cherished. He felt her worry even when she tried to hide it, her pacifist heart quietly bracing itself for whatever was to come. He knew she didn’t want him to fight, she didn’t have to say it aloud; he could feel it as clearly as the beat of his own heart.

As she looked back at the place she had clawed her way out of, that wretched grave that had tried to claim her forever, a shadow flickered across his face. Lorcan felt his own anger stir, but he kept it buried deep; this moment wasn’t about vengeance—it was about survival, about reclaiming what had been stolen from them both. When she finally turned to him with her agreement, he let loose the knot of a sigh in his chest.

He reached out and took her hand with a single nod, “To Endora,” he echoed, his voice a vow of safety. He took a steadying breath and squeezed her hand, guiding her gaze to meet his. “I know I can’t undo what happened to you, Ama. And I know I can’t make this right—not fully, not ever. But I swear to you, whatever comes next, you won’t face it alone. Not this time.”

He studied her face, the quiet grief that mirrored his own. With one last look at the would-be grave, Lorcan turned them toward the path that would lead them both home.
 
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“Thank you, Lorcán.”

Their eyes met and a fond memory popped up in Amaryllis’ head: a young autumn prince, still shy and very uncertain of his place in this world, approaching her with never-ending questions about what lay beyond his court and the borders of their realm. She watched his heart grow with curiosity and admired the man that Lorcán had become.

He took her hand and she squeezed his in response. “I pray that we’re never again separated against our will,” she told him quietly, while her magic extended out to search along the leyline. “And that this friendship of ours lasts through all of our lifetimes.” Lorcán had always been Amaryllis’ most trusted friend and she felt pride knowing that she’d witnessed every step of his remarkable journey.

The two fae slipped through the leyline until they reached Endora – Lorcán’s home, situated somewhere within the Autumn Court.

The summer princess was still worn from her long slumber, and thus stumbled out of their magical travel route with far less grace than one might expect from somebody of her rank. Luckily there was no one except him to witness her clumsiness and Amaryllis caught herself quickly, dusting off the plain dress she wore while steadying herself.

She was quite familiar with the Autumn Court by now, but Endora was entirely foreign to her. The area where they’d dropped out of the leyline wasn’t much different from the place from which they’d entered – forested land with green meadows and colourful trees. And despite never having been to this place, a weight immediately lifted from Amaryllis’ chest and she felt as though she could breathe easier.

“So..,” she began, inhaling and exhaling deeply before linking her arm with his. “I desperately need a shower. And then perhaps you could give me a tour?” She gave him a reassuring smile. Everything would be okay. They would be okay. She was sure of it.
 
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Lorcan felt the tension that had coiled tightly in his chest ease as they stepped out of the leyline and into the familiar embrace of his home. Endora stretched out before them, its serene landscape painted with hues of copper and crimson, vibrant and alive with the telltale signs of autumn: rustling leaves in the crisp breeze, the scent of pine mingling with the sweetness of ripe orchard fruits, and the distant trickle of a brook weaving through the trees. Here, away from the politics and the bloodshed, there was a peace that seemed untouched, a sanctuary for those who sought solace.

When Amaryllis stumbled slightly, his instinct to steady her kicked in without thought. He caught her by the arm, and when she found her balance, he allowed himself a small, genuine smile. Her presence in Endora was surreal, a dream he hadn’t dared believe possible until now. The way she dusted herself off with an air of determination warmed his heart; even after everything she had been through, she carried herself with an unwavering grace that made him marvel.

He laughed softly at her request, the sound rich but relaxed, a rare moment of lightness that hadn’t found him in far too long. “A shower and a tour, in that order,” he agreed with a nod.

The way she linked her arm with his sent a familiar warmth through him, an anchor that kept his worry at bay. He met her eyes, taking in the subtle shadows of exhaustion that lingered there, and felt an unspoken promise settle in the space between them. She was here. She was safe. For now, that was all that mattered.

He gestured to a stone path that wound its way through the trees, leading toward the main estate. “This way,” he said, his tone laced with affection and a hint of pride. “I hope you'll like it here. I think you will..” His gaze softened, and he squeezed her arm lightly. “And I’ll make sure you have everything you need.”

Lorcan guided Amaryllis through the wide, airy corridors of the Orchard, the estate that had quickly become the heart of his realm in the Autumn Court. Unlike the ancestral halls of their more traditional palaces, the Orchard was a testament to modern elegance mixed with a rustic charm that still nodded to the essence of autumn. The smooth, honey-toned wooden floors gleamed under their feet, polished to perfection, Lorcan's own artwork of floral vines and leaves decorated the walls.

Large, floor-to-ceiling windows let in ample light, creating an interplay of shadow and sunbeams that moved with them as they walked. He led her to a set of double doors, the frame was subtly carved with intertwining vines. “These are your chambers,” Lorcan said, his voice quiet but warm. He pushed open the doors to reveal a spacious suite that reflected the blend of modernity and nature that characterized the Orchard.

The room was painted in muted shades of gold and cream, with a touch of deep burgundy that accentuated the accent pillows scattered across a low, king-sized bed with a simple but elegant frame. Tall bookshelves stood on either side of a reading nook by the window, filled with tomes both old and new. The wide windows overlooked a section of the estate's orchard, where branches heavy with autumn fruit swayed gently in the breeze.

A sleek stone fireplace sat on the far side of the room, already lit with a gentle flame that cast dancing shadows across the walls. There was a modern vanity made of dark wood with a wide, circular mirror above it, and an adjoining en-suite bathroom with marble floors and a rainfall shower.

“Clothes will be laid out for you,” he said, gesturing to a polished wardrobe in the corner. “And food will be brought shortly. Please, take your time. Rest, wash up, and breathe easy here.”

He lingered just a moment, the weight of the day pressing on his shoulders but softened by the sight of her standing safe in this space. “When you’re ready,” he continued, his tone softening even more, “I’ll meet you in the courtyard.”
 
  • Melting
Reactions: Amaryllis
The smoky scents of musk and wood filled the air as Amaryllis took in Endora. Large trees with golden crowns stretched towards a twilight sky, branches swaying gently as if welcoming them in. Beneath her feet, autumn leaves crunched with every step she took and Amaryllis exhaled a deep, shuddering breath of relief.

Safe, she thought and allowed for herself to relish in the serenity of Lorcán’s secret haven.

Beside her, the ruler of this hidden paradise smiled warmly and Amaryllis felt a weight lifted off her weary bones. This land of eternal autumn promised peace and she was grateful that Lorcán had taken her here. Arm in arm the two of them walked along a stone path that led up through the Orchard – a majestic estate worthy of its royal inhabitants, with distinct differences from anything she had ever seen at the Autumn Court, where his father was the ruling entity. It was beautiful and Amaryllis was nearly at a loss for words.

“Lorcán,” she murmured, placing a hand to his. “You have build a wonderful home. Thank you for bringing me here.”

If Amaryllis had to describe what she imagined the depths of Lorcán’s soul might look like, it would be something like this – something like Endora. And as he guided her through the large corridors and long halls of the Orchard, Amaryllis recognised all the little details with which he had crafted this place, details that made this realm unmistakingly his.

Warm colours accentuated smooth surfaces and the rustic elements of autumn and Amaryllis did not miss everywhere where Lorcán had put his own art on display. At the same time Endora felt almost alien to her. A foreign place she had never been to, hadn't even known of until now.

Lorcán distracted her by introducing her to her chambers – a generous space kept in warm autumn colours, with a beautiful view and enough room for her to breathe in. “It’s perfect,” she turned towards him and for a moment her hazel eyes took in only him. “Thank you, Lorcán. For everything.” A small smile lifted her drained features, and Amaryllis bravely held that smile until he had left and closed the doors behind him.

The princess hurried to the bathroom, hastily closing another set of doors. Her torn dress slid to the floor, pooling on the cold tiles around her feet. Amaryllis turned the shower knob and, after a few minutes of simply standing there, lowered herself to the ground and wrapped her arms around her knees. Slowly, the world began to blur in a misty haze, leaving only the steady rhythm of water droplets against her body. After a while Amaryllis turned the temperature up and while the heat soaked into her skin, it failed to reach the chill inside.

From the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of her once golden dress and as though a switch had been flipped, screams filled her thoughts. Her mind was a storm of panic, exhaustion, fear and confusion, with each emotion violently clawing for dominance. Amaryllis desperately tried to sort them out, tried to breathe and remember how and why she had gotten into this situation in the first place, but the effort was too much. A shudder rippled through her, and then the tears came, heavy and unstoppable.

The water washed them away, but the pain was always there.

Too soon, she told herself. It’s too soon to think of this.

When Amaryllis stepped out of the shower, the mirror was foggy from the humidity. With a slow wipe of her hand she cleared a streak and her tired face emerged. Her lips forced a smile. Then another one. Each one faltered, but the woman kept trying until the corners of her mouth quivered under the weight of pretence. “Much better,” she whispered at her reflection. Her mirror’s silent stare offered no reassurance and Amaryllis averted her gaze, focusing on getting dressed instead.

Lorcán’s staff had prepared a pale orange gown for her and once clothed, the summer princess nibbled on some fruits before deciding that it was finally time to head out. Looking fairly presentable, almost like her usual self, Amaryllis stepped out into the courtyard and searched for her friend.
 
  • Cthuulove
Reactions: Lorcán
Lorcan stood in the centre of the courtyard, his hands clasped behind his back as he gazed out toward the distant peaks of the mountain range. The cool dusk air carried the scent of pine and the faint sweetness of ripened apples from the Orchard. Above him, the sky shifted through hues of lilac and periwinkle, the first stars beginning to glimmer faintly against the twilight.

He turned at the soft sound of footsteps and smiled as Amaryllis appeared. The pale orange of her gown caught the fading light, softening the sharp edges of her weariness. For a moment, Lorcan simply looked at her, taking in the quiet strength she exuded despite everything she had endured.

“You clean up well,” he teased gently, his voice warm as he closed the distance between them. “But you’re still pale as a ghost," he huffed. "Come on, I want to show you something.”

Without waiting for her to protest, Lorcan offered his arm, and together they began their ascent along one of the Orchard’s many winding paths. The stone beneath their feet was smooth and bordered by small lanterns that flickered softly with fae light, their glow warm and inviting against the deepening evening.

As they walked, the scenery around them shifted. The path climbed higher into the mountain, cutting through dense, golden forests before arching over a series of narrow bridges. Below, rivers churned and cascaded down steep cliffs, their waters glistening like liquid silver in the dim light before plummeting into Lake Azura far below. The air here was brisk, carrying the sharp freshness of autumn leaves and rushing water.

They reached the final vantage point just as the last rays of sunlight dipped below the horizon, leaving the world in the soft embrace of twilight. Lorcan stopped and gestured for her to look out.

“This is Endora,” he said, pride and reverence mingling in his voice.

The mountain opened up to a breathtaking view of Lorcan’s realm. Endora stretched out in all its splendor. The fae lights of the newly built city below began to flicker to life. Rivers wove through the streets like veins of silver, and stone bridges arched gracefully to connect the streets At the heart of the city lay a bustling square, faintly glowing with magical lanterns and alive with activity even at this hour.

To the south, sandy coves curved along the edge of the shimmering Lake Azura, the water’s surface reflecting the last remnants of the twilight sky. To the north loomed the Silver Forest, its towering silver pines standing like sentinels under the rising moonlight. The trees sparkled faintly, their unique metallic sheen catching every bit of available light.

“My father handed it off to me as an insult. It was an overgrown haven of monsters when my brothers and I first came here. But I.. wasn't in a good place, it was a distraction if anything. There’s still much to do,” Lorcan said, his tone thoughtful as he pointed toward the untouched meadows stretching out to the east. “Maeve’s helping me plan the next phases. More homes, more places for people to live and thrive. But this…” He gestured broadly to the city below. “This is the heart of it all.”

He turned to look at her, his violet eyes alight with determination and hope. “What do you think?”