the brooding shadowsinger of the night court meets the feisty blood witch from places unknown, what could possibly go wrong?
Azriel x OC
ACOWAR - post ACOWAR
Slow updates
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A cool wind whipped through the air caressing the females pointed ears; a slight shiver to ran down her spine. The sound of running water met her ears as she knelt before the small stream that ran through the section of the Middle she currently inhabited.
The Middle was an unlikely place to find a High Fae. It's usual inhabitants were vicious creatures feeding off the primal magic the surged through the land or fae who were banished from their courts and forced to live a life of fear and solitude. Ruelle didn't quite fit in either of these boxes. After all, living in the Middle was a choice she made for herself.
Following the war, she feared for her safety within the courts. No one would be able to protect her from the imprisonment some high lords thought she deserved or prevent her from being sold off and married to the highest bidder. For the last 500 years she took refuge in the middle, living in a small one room shack she constructed within the first few years of her hiding. When she was in desperate need of supplies she couldn't forage or hunt within the Middle, she'd wander across the border of Dawn or Winter to head to the market in the small border towns.
Her hand dipped into the stream, her canteen she held submerged as it filled with the cold spring water. The wind whipped again, a rustle of leaves met her ears and locks of auburn hair clouded her vision momentarily. She glanced over her shoulder at the noise, eyes searching for any of the creatures that roamed these woods. They found nothing. She turned back to the water, noticing the water spilling over the top and withdrew her hand. Her fingers on the other hand spun the lid back on to the canteen before she rose back to her feet, smoothing the front of her dress as she stood.
All of a sudden the wind slowed, soon stopping all together. An eerie sense of quiet fell upon the forest; it was unnatural. Something had disturb the magic that flowed through these lands.
She didn't move, yet her power began to flow out of her finger tips in search of the culprit. Her eyes wandered the surface of the water, she watched as the red aura of her power danced across the surface.
A sudden thump from behind her caused the canteen to slip from her hands as she spun around. Palms flared out in front of her prepared to use her magic.
Two males stood before her, dressed clad in leather with large membranous wings spouting from their backs hovering over their figures. Illyrians, she decided. She made eye contact with the one decorated in red siphons first, she sent a scowl to him. His mouth fell open as a hushed, "Woah," slipped past his lips. He shook his head slightly, dark locks of hair shaking at the movement.
Her gaze shifted to the other male. Her breath nearly caught in her throat as she looked to him. The most beautiful male she had ever laid her eyes upon. He had the same dark hair as the other, but this one had his cut shorter, lying loosely atop his head. The ends curled ever so slightly. The males hazel eyes stared back at her blue, lips pursed together tightly. She couldn't get a read on what was running through his head.
