Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Finn, theres no getting to the point with a boy like you." Oro said in his usual deep and thick voice, shuffling a deck of cards in his hands, his wings were giant, naturally gold at the rims, trimmed every weekend, precisely done. He stared out into the road from their carriage which was gilded in golden and gleamed like a precious stone, an opal, if only it was that.

"Go back to Ashandervan, Grimspire has enough fools, especially slaves for fools."

Finn looked up with a meek smile, his lips curled into a more intense one. His blue eyes were deep as the sea he went fishing in with his father in secret, he had a lot of secrets. He took Oros hands into his own and peeled off a piece if the skin, then watched it regenerate in a blink of the eye. Then spoke. "I like the way you decide to speak your mind, unaware of the consequences. A smart fool you are,"

After saying that sentence, he stepped out of the carriage. Even though it hadn't yet stopped. Sent the horses jolting and neighed a plead not to do such an audacious thing ever again, but Oro knew Finn knew less than that.

"You mustn't do that anymore! The horses, horses get spooked by your actions, Wingless fool." Oro said with a cool and sharp, irritated tone while his winds flapped up and stretched, flaring with anger, sent sparks to the sand under the carriage. Like little lightning bold daggers flames from the sky above. Except it was burning at his wings.

“Come, come, shall we go to your daddy’s palace or not,” Finn spoke from the trail, the cobble and polished trail that led to the entrance to the palace, “you’ve gotten a new slave today!” He’s exclaimed, watching as a white skinned boy with a short fringe stepped off of the port, in the distance of course.

Oro, he stayed silent and stepped off the carriage when it stopped moving itself, a quiet sense of grace and defiance in his movement as he caught up with the blond in a short amount of time. He didn’t really care for slaves, sometimes he did. But those were very rare occasions. He had better things to do, find a wife, for future empress, and look after the emperor, his sick father who is dying.

"We can all agree Grimspire shall win the war, Frostwillow is the least of our problems. Compared to the curses that have been haunting us for ages." Before Oro's sister, Elara could go on about her intense disliking for the curses that have lurked beneath the surface of Grimspire, the door swung open. Mark, the centaur had that saucy man Napoli straddling his back while his gold silk-gloved hand was on the doorknob as the other was settled on Marks smooth and pale neck, caressing it.

"The Emperor!" Napoli exclaimed to the whole changing room, the words echoed into the lavish halls adorned with golds and opals that came together to form the rim of the floor to ceiling windows. They gave the room most of its light in the break of day. "The Emperors heart has faltered! In his slumber!" Those words earned a synchronized gasp from Elara and her good friend, the duchess Sylvia.

Into the day, Napolis little elf ears twitched, the appealing pearl piercings lodged into his white and light skin jingled like a pair of silver keys, he heard footsteps, and then trotters of hooves from the centaur he mounted gingerly, Mark and Napoli followed after the thin scent of bitter and shattering tears. Napoli tightened his thighs around his back as they made their way across the sunlight-bathed halls of the gigantic palace, the short elves lungs burned when he ran, as if he had added wood to a fire, the pain would intensify. The grip on his baton tightened as he set his chest against Marks human skinned back, Napoli's hips on his horse back.

The two mystical beings found the emperors heir, Oro, sitting in a wooden polished chair planted next to the death bed of the emperor. His back lurched and his head in his hands, steady and deep breaths came and went from his little mouth under his buttoned nose and over his almost unnoticeably split chin. It seemed that Oro was in distress over his father and emperors death. Who wouldn't be? His wings flapped with haste at an almost impossible velocity, creating friction and tension in the air of the palaces infirmary. Oros back faced the elf and centaur, the two nobles and close friends of the future emperor.

Oro's father had chosen Napoli as his companion, since he had experience in almost everything, Before Earth existed, it was chaos—scattered dust, fractured rock, drifting particles suspended in the void. Space shimmered with fragments, like broken pixels waiting to align, until gravity began to weave them into one forming world. And Napoli had always been there. And used his past experiences to guide Oro, guide people. the fabric of the universe hadn't even been sown yet when he was alive, it drove him to madness, corruption until he was incorruptible. And perfect!

Oro sobbed silently, refusing to acknowledge the more intense emotional toll, and then simply clutched his tousled white and tear stained lace handkerchief tighter than ever in his palm. His eyes glued themselves to the stone floor, refusing to look up at the heart-crushing sight of his dead father who laid in bed, his chest unmoving and body ragged as a doll, leaving everyone with them having a lack of guidance.

Its up to Oro.

"We don't have time to cry, go, let your grandparents find you an Empress!" Napoli exclaimed, it was very so likely he had seen people mourn over their dead loves countless times, in war, in peace, in the sky, in the other worlds, he had gotten peeved off by it and drove him to the edge. The air turned thick with unspoken tension, the air stopped its cold dance, the air swept. This time it dragged across the room with tension that hadn't been masked by the supernatural elf.

Perhaps even he had fallen off, just not physically.

"Do not hang your head and sob," Napoli twisted Oro, Oro's feet painfully turned away by the ankles and then his sore feet, a rather animated dance of his lower limbs. He made Oro's head face him, Oro then instantly absorbed all the water that had previously curled and trickled down his soft cheeks to his immensely dry and pale skin almost on command. He looked Napoli dead in the eye. The only sounds in the room were the intense flapping of Oro's wide, marble and golden wings, Elara and duchess Sylvia were likely to arrive soon judging by the footsteps that got even more audible with each step that came from the opulent and lengthly halls.

The Emperor was dying, and the duchess and the emperors heir knew there was no saving such a fated soul that was destined to die. So Napoli and Mark spread the news of upcoming funerals and functions, balls and notices in general for their vast and prosperous empire.

Napoli and Mark leapt through the fields of dangerous and mystical flowers that curled almost just in time to grasp the centaurs ankles and send him tripping upon his four well-washed hooves. The two powerful men made their way through the vibrant emerald tulips and blood-soaked maroon red roses, dandelions blew in the air that marched towards the west. Napoli held a well kept scroll in his right palm. The rest of the notices for the city were stored and preserved for the loyal nobles and citizens in the large pouch mounted on marks horse back.

They entered the marble road, columns and pillars embellished the pristinely constructed roads that would all lead to the big dome that held all the artifacts and relics of the past of Grimspire. Napoli always admired and spoke on and on about how astonishing the development of the empire has been, and wouldn’t ever even have a though of destroying such an extensive place, constructed with some of the most elderly and great monuments in history. The marble sidewalk was clean and gleamed as usual in the open air while the road had carriages wheel their way through the empire and city, as well as trotting horses and centaurs who leapt and dashed like a cold and sensual spring breeze.

The vibrant little tufts crept on and tickled the bare skin of Marks chest. The white buttons that were encased into the fabric of his shirt that hung loose off his broad shoulder dangled relentlessly in the swift and quickly paced flurry of air. Eventually they reached the stall adorned with perky plants, a barrel-like white metaled structure, and Napoli gingerly dropped the letters, prompts, and newspapers in the barrel. The citizens that do the job were to dispense all news and letters to the people of their everlasting realm. Not a single well crafted letter missed, the men would organize them in an almost extreme order.

Whispers swirled around the prosperous realm went on from the newfound announcements in the papers, some scandals, some news about new establishments in the city, six new artifacts discovered, an ancient scroll has been collected by a man named Azul Verganly. The realm always had something to talk about, they spoke about warfare, goods, their prosperities, and the humiliations of other nobles. On and on.

A battle had been coming up, and the men and been out, woodwinds and Brass instruments were practicing relentlessly for the day of the parades where they play for the soldiers storming out of their realm and going to fight against the realm Frostwillow. Theres a strong chance for a win to get cast upon Grimspire, for the battlefield they had horses, elephants, and many soldiers who had might and a strong sense of forcefulness, some immortal and had experience in warfare. God knew what Frostwillow inhabited on combat zones and arenas.

By the time the musicians finished performing their list of symphonies, the sun had been finishing along with them, the blazing and flaming star was nearly gone, gently and very steadily tumbled into the horizon that was an endless sea, save for some large ships, cruises, and mere boats for the fishermen.

Oro had been in his room, it had a king sized bed at the middle, hustled against the well garnished wall, while the cushioned bench in front of it had been sitting against the end of the gold carved bed, in a mess. The wide and puffed ember red pillows were scattered across the tanned pillions. The rug was as neat as always, the golden chisel at the edges hadn’t dimmed or frayed not even a bit over the years. All the vibrant light came from the floor to ceiling windows.

He lied his back against the mattress, his wings came to a halt. While his lower body bent the backs of the knees against the edge of the front of the lengthly bed. His expression blank and restful. A parchment of well-crafted paper laid next to him in the silky imperial red hued blanket. His brownish-amber eyes scanned the ceiling in boredom, a hint of distress could be seen if you take a closer look.

“Who is this woman?” He looked at the scroll, hi head titled gently to the side to look at the scroll for a goos cod then arched his arm out of the silken sheets to take a good look of what was written in the stamped file. He took the letter into his palm, his pinching fingers worked to unravel the rest of the paper. His expression usually tight. The paper held a neutral cursive writing, a stamp at the top corner. Exactly the one his Grandpa and former emperor would write to him in, so he read through the ink stained parchment. His expression softened slowly, his elderly relative had found him a well-bred woman in their imperial court, her husband had just went to glory, and now she must remarry to someone.

His elder had described her, as a soft and pale skinned woman, in need of love since she seemed so stricken by the death of her beloved. She is slim, she wore a thin, pearl white, and translucent long dress, with stringy light, frail, and golden chains around her neck that resembled her high status in the imperial court.

Chapter Text

The designated woman told to Oro, future emperor of Grimspire is from Veridia. Veridia is a kingdom built not on iron and conquest, but on the deep-rooted tradition of its great Sylvan-Iron Forests. They control the most vital resource in the region: ancient, magically resilient wood used for shipbuilding, specialized siege weaponry, and the finest ceremonial armor. But, Veridia is allies with Frostwillow, the lavish and Arctic empire that is against Grimspire in the war. The imperial court will inevitably whisper rumors throughout the palaces about her true motives and loyalty to Grimspire despite her true origins. The Frostwillow allies might confer secretly to decide how to exploit and take advantage of her new position in Grimspire.

And thats what Oro was so apprehensive touching on, hopefully his grandfather had told him in a skipped phrase that she is the most loyal and dedicated woman despite them all in Veridia.

He gingerly folded the letter closed after scrutinizing and scavenging through every line and dash for a phrase that said so. He stood back up and attempted to stride with his usual confidence to reach his moonlit desk. Despite his attempt to do so, his legs felt like dainty sowing needles beneath his knees, Throbbing and twitching with every little step as if he were destined to land onto the well-sown carpet. and his heart pounded like a mechanism skipping a beat below his polished crown. He set his soft palm over the smooth bark of the desk and took one last glance at the scroll that lied on the rather satiny linen.

He looked back at the ceil-to floor window, through the glass panes he saw the infinite horizon of the sea, the seawater sloshed about the sand while the excess spilled onto carved rocks. Still, despite the partial distraction from the scenery he still felt undone. Out of all the women, why her? He never yet knew but he was soon to do so. Oro took one of his shorter cloaks and draped it over himself, slid his rather slim arms into the golden trimmed sleeves. He did the buttons with a familiar ease and stepped down the hall, tapping shoes drumming against the marble floors as he made his way down to the opulent dining halls.

“Trust her, and you may lose your throne. Distrust her, and you may lose your soul.” Finn said with ease as if that wasn’t going to be the one phrase Oro would contemplate about for the upcoming three hours. He picked up his fork and knife again and sharply cut into the ribeye steak. When he looked back to the future emperor he got no looks, so he just gave Oro a moment to ponder his words over his fine dinner.

And so he thought of that until the day the Veridian arrived, hair silky and brunette till her slightly broadened shoulders that were carved up like well carved boulders. Her dress was a lightly tin silver, right up her ankles and loose, her looser part of her dress was white translucent cloth from the from and the sides and back were the silver dyed silks. Buttoned up enough to gently hug her waist and ruffles at the end of her loose long sleeves that tightened the loose sleeves. Her features were astonishing, a Greek sculpture, as innocent as a lamb and as defensible as a victim. Her complexion was almost very pale. And a cream white ribboned bonnet sat on top of her head. Her name was Vionette. The sister of the ex empress of Veridia.

Her brother, a tall and lean man whispered something into her ear on the way into the wedding ceremony, his eyes focused on her but had previously skimmed the architecture of Grimspire. The Empire was mostly made up of Colors on the greyscale, crimson reds, golds, and vibrant oranges and occasionally a green.

“Thank you, Elvis,” Vionette responded to her brother. Her eyes set then on Oro who was already at the passage almost at the escalated gold-chiseled podium, his gaze cool and composed as his eyes adjusted onto her own. She quickly looked away, and went up to him through the empty cathedral, and had the ceremonial cloak draped around her by heavily garmented guards who were only dressed in warm colors, and had precise mustaches. Their chests and torsos had sashes with many highly ranked medals equipped and pinned to them.

She nodded in gratitude as she stepped up the short yet well done stairs. Her expression at ease, mostly, but not without a hint of trepidation in them as she held the blank yet curious gaze

Vionette and Oro were soon to marry and become emperor and empress. And then he did become emperor. Napoli was quite happy for him, but Napoli wasn't with Mark, because Mark was their best strategist for the last long century. And this war he would be commanding troops against Frostwillow, captivate a victory for Grimspire and ensure wealth upon his homeland he cherishes so much and even more land. So after Napoli left, he wandered the streets like he always did, traveled them aimlessly because he had no where to go. His head tilted back, revealing his sickly pale neck while his chin pointed towards the glistening moon. Water droplets dripped from above the heavens down to the ground where the immortal stood, his boots clanked gently against the marble pavement as he took heavy steps, each one more dense than the last.

Finally, Napoli reached his Estate, where he would manufactured machines. The walls were mostly windows, ceiling to floor. And the floor was polished marble with dusty corners in the more isolated rooms. Sleek white and long columns decorated the lavish place of Napoli's while the endless shelves held many different types books. The thing they all had in common was that they were all quite knowledgable if you think about it, and all had hard leathery covers as well. The room that stood out the most was a room where a chair sat in the middle, with an all-chromed female with platinum skin and an electric glow in her eyes. She has wires for brains and her body showed that whoever manufactured her must've had very decent precision and even better anatomy. Some wires dared to stick out, white some stayed stuck in place with submission. Her metal torso is pinched at the back, and her tin cleavage is small like a minors, her legs are long and silver plastered, taller than Napoli's while her head was diamond-like shaped.

He would go in that room to speak to the robot, she would always respond to to the immortal man with responses and information from the artificial intelligence she was programed with. That he programed into her. Napoli was a tired man despite looking quite young on the outside, he'd been alive for countless ages and was drained from transportations from one place to another and disliked having to do much work. And then suddenly a knock snapped Napoli out of the haze he was in, his eyes focused in a second and he teleported in front of the opal gilded door of the entrance to his house. He opened the door and saw a woman with a light face of makeup, she appeared to look similar like Oro's wife and the new empress of Grimspire, Vionette. Perhaps she was her sister? That was the only though he had in his head.

"Hello." Napoli acknowledged in quite a nervous rush, despite his occasional experience in speaking with women.

"Hello sir." The empresses sister responded smoothly to Napoli, a contrast sharp as a blade to his own demeanor that was treading along a the edge.

"What brings you to my grand estate tonight? Who are you, if I have the right to ask?" Napoli asked with a threatened stare up at the way taller woman. He was wearing his black toga and blood-red shirt with his own hat he'd worn almost all the time while the more entitled woman was dressed in silks and lace. White and trimmed stockings that rode up her thighs without a single wrinkle, and a tight corset that emphasized her magnificent and delicate curves. Gingerly laced and silk-sown gloves spun in the most ancient ways.

"I am Voinette's sister, the empresses sister, Ameline. I suggest you know Vionette's husband, Oro?"

Chapter Text

The night between the Empresses sister was more engaging with every word for Napoli, he adores how she sips her drink, her court etiquette she had learned in Veridia. The whispers and murmurs that would always manage to make him blink with with madness and surprise. Those were promises that would manage to keep his mind spinning while his eyes darkened with perverse consideration at her requests. He knew if he did the wrong things in life that it would result in rash and quite brutal consequences to put it simply, so he shook her suggestions out of her mind for the next weeks of them meeting up behind curtains at dusk. Until one unwelcoming night where the curling and plump fog arose shortly after the perfectly full moon, the night where the moon shone brighter than every without a hint of mercy and blinded souls. Souls like Napoli who haven’t just gotten blinded by light, but with power. And the curse only that damned seductress could have placed upon him.

“Please sir…Napoli, listen. Listen to me, give me your time.” Her words ringed in the atmosphere uncomfortably like the triangle instrument.

Napoli stopped in his tracks, smoke surrounded his short and slim form while the dust had swirled in the thick air around him. His heavy coat that ate up his bite sized frame swept beneath his feet to catch the fleeing dust while his posture was rigged with pent up tension from all these offerings. His eyes were stoked and flared after each and every single plea that came out of the woman’s mouth. But after all she was a drug, he had to keep her in his life. Because he only knows a robot he hadn’t even named, and frankly…he wants to meet more women. Add they’ve built quite the connection in such a short amount of time, he was quite surprised.

“Thank you, I want something important from you you know,” She said, tone sultry and smooth as butter, her voice warm and gingerly tuned, the words so low and toasty they tended to warm her chest. She put a finger to her bottom lip, eyes turned to Napoli through the moonlit hallway. The silence that followed up was enough to make her want to proceed her conversation. So she did. “The emperor of Veridia has died recently you know, and what if I told you you could be granted the chance to be the emperor..?”

Napoli’s head turned towards Ameline, and his back followed suit slowly but without a single jerk in his body. He looked almost like. Predator at her, a twinkle in his eyes that screams desire, an intense ache for power and the desire to control the world. Eyes clouded with delusion, his lips curled into a faint pious smile but his thoughts were more rebellious and charged with lawlessness, symbolizing unmasked ache for dominance with the way his smile never reached his Klein blue eyes.

“I can rule over Veridia?” He asked in a short breath, expression hungry for power. “Really?”

“Really!”

Napoli glanced back at the wall, his mind churned as if getting cooked into a damn stew. Eyes stoked with every velvety and seducing murmur that escaped Ameline’s cherry pink lip. His eyes trained themselves on the silk curtain that was frail enough that the moonlight still breached its way through the threads, and he took a deep breath because he knew that if he gave in there isn’t turning back with such a woman. She is dangerous, she is from Veridia. She is an ally of the enemy who is going for his Grimspire. He knows how much Grimspire means to Oro now, how Mark has defended their empire relentlessly in the past. So he took another breath, this one felt less suffocating.

“I wish I could get more time to think about your…delightful proposition.” Napoli started shortly before continuing. “And you might have to tell me what I have to do for a spot as Emperor of Veridia before we do a contract of some sort.” Napoli adjusted the dark cuffs of his coat then turned back to the door while his coat whirled and revolved lazily behind him. He reached for the gilded doorknob and twisted it down, evacuating from the rather stuffy room

———————————————————————————————————————————
The halls of Oro’s palace smell of dust and a century old book, mainly because this palace has been to every emperor of Grimspire, the dangling opals from chandeliers shone while most of their light they cherish so much came from the star we call the sun. Guards at every ornate corner had the same uniform, simple fabrics that had been dyed in warm hues that resembled their Empire, and they all had armory, gold plates that reflected the light the sun distributes. As well as that, flowers in the palace were as vivd and alive as the lengthy grass blades in the gardens. Although the stems and flower all together was confined to the carved clay pieces that was painted over, the petals still erected into the air that smelled of vanilla and something more. Painters, prestigious and humble traveled the world through harsh and unpleasant conditions of weathers in their less than pristine boats to show up to Oro’s empire for years and years to paint the emperors of every time. Dedication was laced into every breath of air nobles would take in the halls where all art sat on walls while the sculptures sat on marble tiled floors. Carved gingerly to make a soul with white natural clay and a dream were full body pieces of emperors of Grimspire in artistic nude forms or most candid sculpts meanwhile some hinted at superiority, ancient to modern times were they.

Through all the history you can the see the young emperor and the young empress. “I know what you are thinking. I know what you think I am, and so does the court from what I have heard.” Vionette placed a hand on Oro’s shoulder, making the man front of her tense. But regardless of Oro’s stiffness she smiled softly. Her eyes carried a spark that could shatter the sky, the sky she believed held no ceiling. “Believe me, I am not the one to fret about. I am a good person, Oro.”

Oro looked down at the floor then back up, to see Vionette pleading with him. Her candy sweet voice echoed throughout the halls between the two. His expression flushed shortly after meeting her gaze. He wanted to trust this woman, he really wanted too trust her but she is allied with enemies. Maybe war made him weary but the Emperor decided that he should consider different options on what to do with his wife. And when he saw the brightness and hope that tended to her eyes he couldn’t not give her a chance for trust. What shall this man do?

“I might believe you when you say these things.” Oro stated briefly before leaving.