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Ancient Princess | The Witcher

Chapter 2. Nim

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An Elven Princess awakens and Jaskier handles it surprisingly well.

Her eyes were golden, not the bright and strong eyes of Witchers, they were soft and seemed more natural. For a moment, all Jaskier could do was stare into her eyes, still shocked by what had just happened moments prior. It wasn't until she began to speak that he was able to snap out of his shock.

'Shi Va? Sharti nha salen o'su?"

She was speaking in an ancient form of elder speech that Jaskier only had limited understanding of, leaving him unsure on how to respond. Seemingly noticing his confusion the young elf tilted her head slightly, before holding her hand out in front of her while muttering.

"Yewl tel'quiet van shou."

Somehow Jaskier was able to understand her request and placed his hand on hers, allowing her to gently clutch it. She then began to utter more of the ancient language, it appeared to be some type of spell as He felt the familiar warm ripple of magic flow from his palm through his whole body. He noticed a brief glow within her golden eyes as she finished the spell and released his hand.

"Apologies, I hope you can understand me now?" She suddenly spoke in perfect common speech.

"What just happened? He asked in amazement, "How did you do that?"

She smiled softly before replying, "It's a simple spell really. It allows me to learn whatever language the person I'm touching uses most."

"Never heard of that spell before."

"Really?" She tilted her head again in confusion, "Even the most beginner mages in the kingdom can do that spell."

It was in that moment, as she stared at him in curiosity, she noticed he was different than the average elf. Most notably she noticed his ears which seemed to curve at the top rather than pointing upwards like hers did.

"Who are you? Your ears are very peculiar."

"You may call me Jaskier, Travelling Bard." He replied paired with his standard performer's bow. "I'm a human, so my ears aren't pointed like yours."

"What is human?"

"Well it’s another species, very different from elves."

"But we don't look that different?" She queried further.

"Well others would say otherwise." Jaskier muttered with a slightly bitter laugh.

After his little remark there was a small pause as she took in this new information, before she softly nodded her head in understanding.

"I see, well it’s nice to meet you Jaskier my name is Nim, daughter of King Faladinn of Muire Dol."

"So that's what this place is called?" He questioned as he took another glace around the hidden room.

"Yes," Nim confirmed as her eyes began to show a deeper understanding of the situation, she took a deep breath before asking, "I'm not sure how long I've been sleeping but it must have been quite a long time, correct?"

"I believe so Princess, at least over a thousand years I can say for certain."

With a small sad smile she replied, "I don't think I'm really a princess anymore."

"Well you have a crown and a palace, which to my knowledge are the main requirements for being a princess." Jaskier winked and grinned brightly at Nim, who began to laugh in response.

Sitting up, Nim adjusted herself to the edge of the platform previously covered by the glass casing. Slowly she stepped down and attempted to stand, only to stumble forward. Before she was close to hitting the floor, Jaskier quickly reached forward and caught her by her arms.

"Are you okay?" He asked, pulling her up while giving her a once over and making sure to hold her firmly.

"Yeah, just been a while since I've stood I suppose."

"Just take your time, I hold onto you as long as you need me to."

While gently holding onto Jaskier, Nim slowly made her way out of the mausoleum. As they made their way through the servant's quarters and into the main halls of the palace, Nim stared in awe. She had never seen the palace halls so empty before; so quiet.

Everything was so raw for her, even though she had slept for over a thousand years it only felt like an overnight sleep. She remembers everything, remembers the panic throughout the castle as she was pulled from the throne room and down into the cold, dark mausoleum. She remembers being told to lie down and the next moment she opened her eyes to a face with a pair of soft periwinkle eyes.

"I think if we're going to travel together we'll need to find you a change of clothes," Jaskier spoke, interrupting her thoughts. "That is of course if you'd like to join me, I didn't mean to presume.

For a moment in panic, he slightly loosened his grip on Nim. He shouldn't have presumed like that, She was a princess why would she want to travel with him? Thoughts of self-doubt and rejection filled his mind. Yet, in response she gripped his arm tighter and pulled him closer.

"Of course I want to travel with you." She smiled at him reassuringly, "I still need to figure out why I was asleep for so long and what happened to everyone, I don't think I'll find answers here."

At Nim's words Jaskier began to relax, "Right, well princess shall we find a change of clothes for you my dear?"

"There should be something in my room, I can lead the way."

Walking through the palace halls and up a few flights of stairs, they soon came across a single white arched door at the end of an empty corridor. As they approached Jaskier noticed an intricate circular, stain glass window that appeared to look out onto a small courtyard.

"This is my room, I specifically requested the flowers to be painted on." Nim said as she pointed at the blue and yellow flowers scattered across the white surface connected by several green vines. "They're supposed to be bluebells and buttercups."

"Really? Buttercups are my favourite flower, of all time."

"Bluebells are mine." Nim mused as she reached forward and turned the golden handle before pushing the door open to reveal her room behind it.

The room is exactly how you'd picture a elven princess' room to look like. Across the wall and ceiling were gorgeous murals depicting several constellations and the night sky. Her bed laid at the centre of the back wall, it was made out of pure white wood which had been delicately carved with various flowers as well as depictions of the sun, moon, and several constellations. Laid across her bed were soft midnight blue sheets to match the equally blue pillows placed along the headboard.

Jaskier let out a low whistle at the sight, "Oh what I would I pay to sleep in a place like this. No seriously I give up music- actually no I wouldn't but still you get my point."

"Let me pack a bag and we can get some rest before we leave" Nim suggested, "To be honest I'm suddenly feeling quite tired myself and it's nightfall now." She then walked towards a large wardrobe by the eastern wall, it was made from the same white wood and had similar etchings. When Nim opened it wide, Jaskier saw a gorgeous collection of colourful and fine fabrics.

Nim began to pulling various fabrics from the wardrobe and laid them gently on the bed. Finally, she turned back to the wardrobe and reached deep into the back before pulling a simple grey travel bag. She moved back to the bed and began stuffing the different fabrics and clothing into it. Jaskier was pleased to noticed she had also packed a scarf and fur outer coat for the colder weather they may face.

"That should be everything, we should probably go rest for the night." Nim stated, before moving back to the wardrobe and pulling out what Jaskier presumed were some night clothing. "This was my brother's, I think it will fit you."

Jaskier took it gratefully, "Just tell me where I can go princess, perhaps you could show me the room."

Nim then looked down and fiddled with her hands before speaking softly, "Is it okay if you stay with me? I don't mind sharing the bed, It's big enough."

"Are you sure?"

"I don't want to be alone again." She stated plainly.

"Okay, then let me get changed and we can both get some rest." Jaskier then moves behind one of the elegant changing screens and changed into the silk, green sleeping wear. It was the most comfortable thing Jaskier had worn in years.

When he came back from behind the screen, he noticed that Nim had also changed behind the second screen and was already lying on the left side of the bed. Jaskier followed suit and tuck himself into the right side of the bed, it was then Jaskier noticed that Nim was right. There was plenty of space, in fact Jaskier was sure that even if he stretched his arm out, he still wouldn't come close to Nim. Nim blew out the light that was surprisingly still lit on her bedside table, leaving them in darkness.

"Goodnight Jaskier, thank you for waking me up." Nim muttered into the darkness.

"Goodnight Nim," Jaskier replied in kind, "I should say thank you for letting me sleep in this bed, feels like it’s made of cloud."

They both laughed softly at his little quip, before they both drifted of to sleep, anticipating what's to come on their journey ahead.

Prev Chapter // Next Chapter (WIP)

December Night | Lyutsifer Safin x Reader

Masterlist | Part 3 to "Cherry" | Previous Y/N is home alone throughout the festive season, still she finds peace in isolation. This peace is broken when some intruders enter her home with the intention to get information about Lyutsifer; by any means necessary. (WC: 3075)

Warnings: Torture, Blood, Guns, Brief mention of waterboarding, General Violence, Secret cameras, Stalker behaviour

AN: Y/N is missing all the red flags here, sorry

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It was December now, which meant it had been two months since the masquerade. Two months since Y/N had made the biggest mistake of her life and had almost allowed it to go further than what it did.

Now she was sitting alone at her flat, eating a shitty Chinese takeaway as a random Christmas movie played on her TV. She’d just gotten up to grab a glass of wine from her fridge when a knock at the door halted her movements.

She wasn’t expecting anyone and instantly was on guard as a result. After carefully pulling one of her handguns from its hidden compartment, she slowly made her way to the door before swinging it open.

“Who are you? What are you doing here?” Y/N asked the figure in the doorway with a guarded expression, right hand hidden behind her back with her finger on the trigger.

The strange older man smiled at her, “Forgive me for the late visit, but it’s a matter of great importance. May we come in?”

At his question, her eyes drifted behind him, where she spotted three other men staring at her with a strange, almost intimidating expression. Quickly understanding the situation, Y/N smiled politely and slowly began to close the door. “Sorry, I think you have the wrong place.”

Before she could fully close the door, one of the men behind him stepped forward and forcefully pushed the door open, causing her to stumble backwards into the wall. Raising her gun, she aimed it at them. “Stay back!”

Instead of listening, the three men simply laughed at her before rushing her at once. Y/N fought back as hard as she could, but being outnumbered three to one predictably didn’t work in her favour. Two of them grabbed her by her arms and held her upright as the older man stepped into her flat.

“No, I think we are in exactly the right place,” he spoke slowly before gesturing to the men holding her to carry her to the kitchen. “Tie her to a chair.”

Without question, they pull Y/N down onto one of her kitchen chairs as the third one steps forward and uses zip ties to latch her wrists to the chairs. She let out a hiss when one of the ties began to dig into her skin.

The older man appeared in front of her again, bending down to look her in the eye. “Now, what do you know about Doctor Lyutsifer Safin?”

Without hesitation she replied, “I don’t know anything.”

“This is going to be very painful for you…”

The next two hours for Y/N were a haze of pain and noise. For the first hour she would repeat the same phrase over and over as they continued to hit, cut, and beat her, “I don’t know anything.” It became almost like a mantra for her, but as the torture continued, her mind went numb, and she fell silent.

At one point they grew tired of her silence and decided to pour water over her as her own kitchen towel was placed over her head. She gagged and screamed into the water, but even then she refused to speak.

After the second hour, Y/N finally had a reprieve when they decided to take a break from her torture. The older man had left the kitchen to search her house, followed by two of the men, leaving the third watching her carefully. As they waited for the others to return from their search, there was suddenly another knock on the door.

The silence was broken by a sharp knock at the front door, a sound that echoed through the room. The single remaining man in the kitchen paused, his eyes darting to the door for a moment. After a brief pause, he looked back at Y/N, who was sitting tied to a chair, her expression now one of pain and exhaustion.

"Who could that be?" His voice was rough, a hint of irritation lacing his words.

“Maybe you should do your job and find out.” She replied, her voice from her own screams.

Her ear rang as he harshly smacked her in the face in response, “Watch your fucking mouth, you bitch.”

The sound of the knock at the door echoed through the flat again, this time a little more impatient. The man uttered a small “fuck” before making his way to the door and opening it.

The tension in the room grew as the man began to walk towards the door, clearly irritated by the unexpected guest. He gripped his gun, preparing for whatever or whoever stood on the other side of the door.

He opened the door with a loud creak, revealing an unexpected scene. Standing there was a tall figure in a dark overcoat and black leather gloves, the shadow from the hood of his coat hiding his face.

"What do you want?" the man asked gruffly, his grip on the gun still firm.

With the man distracted, Y/N began to try and squeeze at least one of her hands from the zip ties that forced her to stay in the chair. She let out small whimpers as the plastic dug deeper into her skin; her right wrist had even begun to bleed slightly from the struggle.

She froze when a familiar voice rang through the flat, “Where is she?”

The man at the door tensed slightly at the unexpected voice. He instinctively gripped his gun tighter, his eyes darting briefly to the figure in the shadow.

"Who's asking?" he replied, his tone gruff and cold.

Instead of responding, the mysterious figure instead raised his right hand, revealing a silenced pistol. Before the other man could react, he fired several shots into his chest and watched as he fell to the ground, lifeless.

Suddenly hands were cupping Y/N's face, tilting it around as whoever was in front of her was assessing the damage. Her eyes were blurry now, and she could barely make out a face; afraid, she tried to pull back from the stranger.

“It's me, darling. It's me." The voice was low, a familiar, calming timbre.

Instinctively her body relaxed as she recognised the voice in front of her, “Lyutisfer…” she whispered brokenly.

“Yes, it's me, my darling." He gently tilted her face up to look at him, his tone soothing, "Can you stand?"

She tried to shake her head, only to wince when it made her feel nauseous. “My wrists are tied... I can’t move...”

"Hold still a moment," he said gently, positioning himself behind her so he could see the bindings on her wrists.

With skilled precision, he retrieved a knife from his pocket and swiftly sliced through the ties, freeing her hands from their constraints. Finally free to mouth, she let out a small cry as she rubbed her wrists in discomfort only to accidentally rub against the open wound on her right wrist.

He saw her reaction and immediately reached forward, gently taking her wrist in his hand.

"Be careful," he murmured, his touch gentle but firm, as he looked at the open wound. "This needs tending to."

“Wait, there's three other men upstairs,” she spoke in alarm, her eyes wide as she struggled to focus her sight.

Nevertheless, he didn’t let go and spoke to her in comfort, “My men will take care of them.”

His words emphasised when Y/N heard the distinct sound of three bodies dropping on the floor above them. As the sound of three bodies hitting the floor echoed through the flat, Y/N's eyes widened in realisation at the implications of his words. But before she could utter another word, a man rushed down the stairs, armed and on high alert.

“We need to leave; it’s possible they have backup.”

Lyutsifer nodded at the man's words, acknowledging the urgency. "You're right," he said, his voice still calm and composed. "There's no time to lose."

He gently tightened his grip on her wrist, guiding her out of the chair she had been bound to. Before they could take more than one step, however, Y/N's exhausted body finally gave out, and she collapsed suddenly, her legs too weak to bear her weight any longer.

Lyutsifer moved fast, catching her body before she could hit the ground. He scooped her up into his arms, holding her close, an arm under her legs and the other under her back.

"Easy, darling," he murmured, his hold strong and secure, "I've got you."

“Where are we going?” Y/N asked in a daze, a strange confusion settling in her mind.

With Y/N cradled in his arms, Lyutsifer started to move towards the front door, the other man falling into step behind him.

At her question, he glanced down at her, his expression serious.

"Somewhere safe," he responded, his voice steady, "somewhere they won't be able to find you."

Her eyes were growing droopy as a wave of fatigue hit her again; she wanted to sleep. Still she was able to mumble to him, “They were looking for you, not me.”

"I know," he responded, his voice low, "but they'll use you to get to me if they have no other options. So we can't risk it."

“I didn’t tell them anything…” Her voice was growing more and more slurred.

He continued to carry her through the front door and outside, where a black Rolls-Royce was waiting.

"I know you didn't," he assured her, his voice still calm. "You did well, darling."

She smiled tiredly at him before it quickly fell again. “I’m tired…”

"You can rest now," he said, his voice low and gentle. He reached the car, and one of his men immediately opened the door for him.

He slowly lowered her into the backseat, adjusting her so she was comfortable against the plush seats. Lyutisfer then slid in next to her before calling over to the driver in the front, “Drive. Now.”

Y/N felt the car pull away, the motion making her feel even more nauseous than before. So, she slowly tilted herself to the left and lowered herself into Lyutsifer’s lap before closing her eyes with a groan.

As she felt herself drift off to sleep, the last thing she heard was his soft, comforting words, "Rest, darling," he said, his voice quiet. "We'll be there soon enough."

The next time Y/N woke up, it was to the sounds of distant waves and a bright light above her. As she blindly felt around her, she soon realised she was now on a large bed that was covered in black silk sheets.

Having only awakened mere minutes ago, confusion and fear quickly set in as she rapidly looked around the room. She tried to slide herself off of the bed so she could escape wherever she was, only to stop when the door suddenly opened and Lyutsifer stepped inside.

"You're awake," he said, his voice calm. "How do you feel?"

“Where is this?” She asked unsure but still felt herself relax slightly when she saw him.

"You're in a safe place," he assured her. "Somewhere they won't find us."

Y/N nodded in understanding, turning to look around the room again and froze when she saw the IV drip and heart monitor next to the bed. “How long have I been asleep for?”

He followed her gaze, noticing her focus on the medical equipment next to the bed. Her question hung in the air for a brief moment before he answered.

"Three days," he said bluntly, his voice matter-of-fact. "The doctor said you needed rest. And for your wounds to heal properly."

For some reason the only thing she could think of saying in that moment was a small, “Oh.”

Despite her short response, he could practically see the questions and confusion flooding her mind. His gaze didn't leave her, observing her closely as if trying to read her thoughts.

"You had a concussion among other injuries," he continued, his voice still firm but not without an undertone of concern. "The doctor had to stitch your wrist, and you'd lost a fair bit of blood. You needed time to recuperate.”

“How bad was it,” she asked before continuing, “when you came in that night, I mean?”

His expression darkened as he recalled the memory. The sight of her bound and injured still fresh in his mind.

"Bad," he replied simply, his voice lower than before, "You were hurt, bleeding. They'd hit you, bound you. But they hadn't gone any further, not yet at least."

“Good.” She blurted out at his last statement, meaning to say it in her head.

"Good?" he echoed, stepping closer to the bed. “You’re glad you were only beaten and bound?”

“I’ve had worse.” She shrugged, only to wince when she felt pain shoot through her back.

"I'm sure you have," he said, coming to a stop near the bed. His eyes were still fixed on her as he spoke, his tone a mix of concern and caution. "But your back clearly still hurts, which means your wounds aren't healed yet. You should stay still."

She nodded in understanding before looking back at him, “How did you even know what was happening?”

He leaned against the bed frame, hands in his pockets, as he looked down at her.

"I had cameras set up in your flat," he admitted, his gaze unwavering. “I had a feeling they'd come for you eventually. The moment I saw what was happening, I came."

“Everywhere in my flat?” She asked with slight alarm, remembering a certain night a week ago when she may have called out a certain name in bed.

He smirked at her question, the alarm in her voice not missed by him.

"Every room," he confirmed, his tone taking on a slightly teasing edge. He leaned a little closer, eyes studying her intensely. "Including the bedroom."

“Oh god!” She exclaimed and put her face in her hands, “How many people saw it?”

He chuckled at her mortified reaction, enjoying the blush that spread across her face.

"Don't worry," he reassured her, his tone slightly amused, "I was the only one watching that night."

“Please tell me you deleted the footage.” Y/N replied, her face still buried in her hands.

He chuckled again, enjoying seeing her so flustered. He reached out and gently pulled her hands away from her face, forcing her to look at him.

"What if I said 'no'?" he teased, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips.

“Then it better be locked up even better than the Pentagon, you voyeuristic pervert.” She replied back but for some reason couldn’t find it in her to be completely angry. Although it had invaded her privacy, it had also saved her life.

"Voyeuristic pervert, hm?" he mused, his tone light and playful. "I'm wounded by that, darling. My intentions were purely protective, not perverted."

His words sobered her up again, “I know… I owe you my life.”

"You don't owe me anything," he said firmly, his voice now serious. "I did what I had to do, what any man would have done for a person they..."

He cut himself off, his eyes narrowing slightly, as if he'd said more than he intended to. Noticing his hesitation, Y/N inched closer to him with a curious, hopeful expression. “Yes?”

His gaze flicked to her when she inched closer, his eyes meeting hers. He took a moment, weighing his words, before continuing. "For a person they care about," he said, his voice quieter, "For a person they want to protect."

With sheer intensity, she placed her hands on his face and pulled him towards her into a deep kiss.

Caught off guard momentarily, he froze for a brief instant as her hands cupped his face, drawing him closer. But as her lips met his in a deep, intense kiss, any surprise he may have had melted away.

Lyutsifer responded with equal fervour, one hand instantly going to the back of her neck, pulling her even closer, while the other gripped the edge of the bed. Y/N tried to ignore the burn of her back as she tried to sit up so she could kiss him deeper. Subtly wincing into his lips, but refusing to pull away.

Her attempt to sit up and intensify the kiss didn’t go unnoticed by him. As she winced in pain, he felt her gasp against his lips, the subtle wince she tried to hide. Not wanting to cause her further discomfort, he slowly eased her back against the pillows, breaking the kiss. He pulled away, his eyes scanning her face, concern etched in his features.

"Darling, you need to rest," he said, his voice stern but soft. "You're still healing; you shouldn't move so much."

“Haven’t I made you wait long enough?” She asked, trying to sit back up again only to be stopped by his hands holding her down.

“You’ve been asleep for three days,” he replied, a hint of amusement in his voice. “I can wait a little longer.”

He reached over, his fingers brushing a loose strand of hair away from her face. “You’re too eager, darling. You need time to properly recover.”

With a sigh, Y/N looked down slightly but nodded in disappointed understanding, “So how long am I stuck in this bed then?”

"For at least a few more days," he answered, his tone firm. "You need to rest and let your body heal. The doctor will be checking on you regularly, and you'll have to take it easy until your wounds are fully healed."

“And then?”

He ran his fingers idly through her hair as she asked her question, his touch gentle and tender.

"And then," he replied, "you'll be free to move around again. Well, within reason."

He smirked before continuing, "But you'll still have to take it easy for a while. No more attempting to break out of bed just because you're impatient."

“So what exactly am I supposed to do till then?” She asked as Lyutsifer moved to sit next to her on the bed.

"Rest, darling," he said, his tone firm but not without a hint of affection. "You need to let your body recover. You can read, watch TV, or I could find you something to keep you occupied. But you're not leaving this room for the time being."

“Okay.” She agreed, although secretly she couldn’t wait for the doctor to sign her off and allow her to move around again.

Ancient Princess | The Witcher

Chapter 1. The Awakening

Back to Masterlist.

Sulking along the path, Jaskier stumbles something he thought he'd never find.

Jaskier had been travelling alone for the past few months, he was unaware how far Oxenfurt actually was from Caingorn yet he was all to happy to leave it behind.

'If life could give me one blessing'

The memory still stung Jaskier, and he tried to cope the only way a bard knows how. At first his writing was sad, full of self pity and loneliness, until one day it shifted. Soon Jaksier's writing turned angry as it he realised; nothing was his fault. Geralt was the one who made the fucking wish to the Djinn, he was the one who thought the law of surprise was a good fucking idea. Who was he to blame Jaskier for his own stupid ideas.

He tried to put Geralt behind him but like an itch, the more he tried to ignore, the stronger the thoughts and memories returned. Somehow that emotionally constipated 'White Wolf' has burrowed his way deep into Jaskier's heart, not that he'd ever know.

So, as he spent his days repeating this vicious cycle of anger and misery he blindly followed the path, having lost his map days before. He didn't recognise where he was and the never ending forest didn't help his already poor sense of direction. He knew he was near the coast, the smell of sea salt lingered in the air around him. If he was by the coast, Jaskier thought, Then surely he was near at least a small fishing village. Maybe the locals will be welcoming enough. He walked for the next few hours hoping for any sign of civilisation and yet; the forest never ended. By the third hour Jaskier was half convinced he was walking in circles and ready to simply accept his fate of dying in the woods either from starvation or of whatever creatures lurked just as hungry as he was. However, Just as he was ready to give up his eyes caught something in the near distance.

A grand white marble arch, it stood tall over the path Jaskier was following, as he approached he noticed how it was covered from the top to the bottom in vines and leaves with bright coloured flowers growing in between. The path continued beyond this arch, leading towards a larger arch this time connected between two equally towering walls slightly hidden behind the bushes and trees of the forest. As Jaskier walked closer towards the second arch he was able to see what was beyond it; a city.

The city was larger, perhaps even larger than some of the continents major cities like Cintra. Furthermore, despite being at least a few centuries old this abandoned city showed no sign of damage to any of its marble buildings or sculptures. In fact the only indication of a long passage of time was the vast amount of vines and shrubbery that grown to cover majority of this city. Flowers had begun to grow between the cracks of the paths, creating a ethereal atmosphere to the entire city. Jaskier wandered around the city in awe, based on his previous studies he could deduce that this place was likely an ancient elven kingdom, but this confused him. Surely if this was in fact an elven kingdom especially of this size, the humans would have long since taken claim during their conquest of the continent. He was even further confused by the signs he saw, although he knew elder speech there were words inscribed that seemed completely alien to him. Perhaps this city predated even the elves.

As the sun began to set Jaskier had eventually made his way to the centre of the city, in which at the top of a tall staircase a grand castle stood tall above the entirety of the city. It was the most beautiful castle he had ever laid his eyes on. Similar the other structures of the city, the castle was made of pure white marble yet it had also been decorated with gold decals and several striking stain glass windows that displayed stunning landscapes and creatures unknown to Jaskier. Once he stepped inside he no less in awe, the marble floor was covered in beautiful dark blue rug that throughout every hallway of the castle. Artwork and Statues lined these hallways both also ingrained with small golden decals, Jaskier noticed several portraits which he presumed displayed the royal family and other aristocrats of the kingdom. Their ears in every painting were clearly elven, confirming Jaskier's theory of the cities origin.

The most breath-taking rooms, however were definitely the Entrance hall and Throne room.

The entrance hall had tall ceilings embellished with a stain glass dome as the roof supported by several engraved marble arches. There were two elegant marble staircases engraved with different depictions of animals and flowers. Like outside the vines had grown inside the castle as well and was wrapped around the bannister and draped down from the balconies on the higher floor.

Climbing the stairs towards the throne room, Jaskier continued to gaze in awe at paintings and tapestries that hung along the wall depicting ancient battles and scenes that were likely lost to history. He wondered if the library and the books within also remained intact, what lost knowledge was likely contained within those pages. Perhaps he could retell the stories one day through song.

The throne room was located in the centre of the castle and was a large expansive hall that echoed even the smallest of sound. Golden suits of armour lined the walls between the engraved marble columns that stretched from floor to ceiling. Banners that matched the dark blue rugs hung from arches and displayed a golden crest that appeared to be a stag with flowers hanging from its antlers. In the centre of the back wall, the throne was placed on a small platform that allowed whomever sat there to tower over those below them. It was made of pure gold and was cushioned with blue fabric. The golden frame had carvings of flowers and vines and several depictions of various woodland animals. Above the seat, on the throne's headboard was a detailed engraving of a stag's head with a stone in the centre of it forehead that reflected light and appeared to change colours.

There was a moment where Jaskier had a small temptation to take a seat on the throne, however he quickly removed the thought from his mind. If it was an elven city its final day could not have been a pretty sight and the people didn't need another human forced themselves on their throne.

Instead Jaskier made his way down from the throne room towards the servants quarters, he figured there would be a suitable bed he could spend at least spend the night on.

The servants quarters were also in impossibly well preserved condition, no rats scurried along the floor and there was of the cold chill that most servant quarters had. The kitchen was as beautiful as the rest of the castle, the counters made from the same white marble with flecks of gold mixed throughout the hard surface. Dried herbs and flowers hung across the ceilings ready to added whatever would be cooked. With increased curiosity, Jaskier opened a cupboard door to find a whole storage room filled with breads and vegetables in perfect condition. The preservation was still remarkable to Jaskier even after searching the entirety of this kingdom.

Soon Jaskier made his way out of the kitchen to find a long corridor aligned with several different doors that each led to a different room. Yet instead he chose to make his way further down the corridor where he spotted an ornate silver door, standing out amount the other plain wooden doors. It took around five minutes for Jaskier to reach the mysterious door at the end of the corridor, at which point he was able to fully appreciate its details. Engravings of flowers surrounding a single stag echoed that of the throne's own engraving. Gently, he pushed on the door and discovered it to be unlocked as it slowly creaked open. He made his way through the now open door to discover that behind it was some kind of mausoleum.

Unlike the rest of the elven kingdom this hidden mausoleum showed signs of erosion and aging. The once porcelain white marble had become a dull grey, and along the eastern wall the detailed etchings had become blurred and whatever image was once there could no longer be clearly seen.

In the centre of the room was a glass case, it was incredibly ornate with gold lining the edges of the box. The glass was almost crystal clear which allowed Jaskier to see exactly what was inside the case, shocking him greatly. Lying softly on a plush green cushion was a young elven girl. She was dressed in a simple white gown that draped against her figure, her brow hair had been carefully brushed free of any knots and imperfections and was braided in parts to delicately frame her soft features, and finally placed atop her head was small and delicate golden crown. Additionally across her most of her body except her face, were several white tattoos which appeared to join together as whole. Jaskier had never seen designs like this before and presumed it must have cultural significance for the ancient elves.

Despite this, what shocked Jaskier most all was, as he approached the case he noticed that her chest was rising and falling. Meaning she was still breathing; she was alive.

Jaskier continued to slowly approaches the glass case containing the mysterious young elf. As he reached closer and closer he felt compelled to reach his hand forward and touch the glass casing. When he placed his hand on the case he noticed his hand began feeling a rapid warmth that spread from his palm to throughout his body. When he look down he noticed that his hands had begun to glow, he tried to pull his hand away but found he couldn't.

Suddenly the glass case shattered around him, and after a moment the young elf's eyes opened.

Next Chapter

Trust | Lyutsifer Safin x Reader

Masterlist | Part 4 to "Cherry" | Previous

After finally recovering, Y/N feels angry by Lyutsifer cold demeanour towards, that and his clear lack of trust means they quickly find themselves coming to blows. When Y/N seeks solitude elsewhere, things only escalate.

Warnings: Poison, Mentions of vomiting, Men being creepy, Attempted SA, Blood, Death

AN: Y/N Is just really emotionally confused in this chapter, but honestly can you blame her?

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Y/N had been on Lyutsifer’s Island for just over a week now; after finally being signed off by the doctor, she found herself wandering through the halls of the large complex.

As she walked through the expansive corridors, the sound of her footsteps echoing slightly in the silence, she was surprised by the lack of other people around. It was almost ghostly how empty the space was.

Eventually she stumbled upon what appeared to be a large garden. Greenery covered the floors, and several plants grew around the room, a large circular pool of water placed in the centre.

She was so entranced by the beauty of the flora that she started to reach out and touch one of the plants, completely oblivious to their potentially dangerous nature.

But just as her hand was about to brush against one of its leaves, a voice cut through the room, stopping her. “I wouldn’t touch that one if I were you.”

Her hand froze in place inches from the plant's flora; turning towards him, she asked, "Why not?"

Lyutsifer leaned casually against a nearby pillar, his dark eyes watching her with amused interest. "It's poisonous," he explained casually, a smirk playing on his lips. "One touch and you'd be feeling the effects within minutes.”

"What does it do?"

He pushed himself off of the pillar and sauntered towards her, his steps slow and unhurried. "A few of the symptoms you'd feel are nausea, vomiting, and abdominal pain,” he listed off, his voice cool and casual, as if discussing something very mundane. 

"Oh, and a rapid heart rate," he added, his smirk growing, "just to list a few."

At his list, Y/N finally pulled her hand away, letting it rest at her side, watching as he approached. He finally stopped in front of her, his gaze fixed on her face. He looked amused at her reaction to his list of symptoms, his smirk still present.

"Still eager to touch everything?" he teased, tilting his head slightly to the side.

"What kind of garden is this?" she asked, glancing around the garden.

"A poisonous one," he responded, his tone matter-of-fact. "But also medicinal. Many of these plants have very useful properties as long as they're used correctly."

"Why do you have a poisonous garden?" She asked with a bemused expression on her face, "Is this how you made that drug?"

He smiled at her question, an almost sinister smile that sent a shiver down her spine. "I have many gardens here," he explained, his voice low and steady. "This is just one of them. And as for the drug, it was a simple matter of extracting the right components from the right plants."

"Where have you been?" Y/N asked unexpectedly, surprising even herself, "The doctor cleared me three days ago, but I haven't seen you in over a week."

He narrowed his eyes slightly at her question, not expecting it. His expression remained as stoic as ever, but there was a hint of surprise in his gaze.

"I've been busy," he replied simply, his tone betraying nothing. "I have many responsibilities and duties that take up much of my time."

"And what duties are those?" She couldn’t help but interrogate him; she was still an MI5 agent after all.

He arched an eyebrow slightly at her question, his eyes fixating on her face. For a brief moment, there was no response. Just a silent, intense stare.

Finally, he spoke, his voice low and even. "The kind that you have no need to know about," he replied, his tone firm but not without a hint of warning.

Stepping forward, Y/N challenged him with a hard stare, “You don't trust me."

"Trust," he said, his tone tinged with a hint of bitterness, "is not easily given or earned.”

"Yet you expected me to trust you." Y/N's eyes flared slightly as she spoke, suddenly angered by his coldness towards her despite everything that happened the night he saved her. “That night, I was expected to go with you without question.”

"Circumstances were different," he retorted firmly, his voice cold and commanding. "You would have died that night if I hadn't intervened. I had no choice but to bring you here. I had to make you trust me."

"And now?" she asked forcefully, "If you don't trust me, why am I still here?"

His gaze shifted at her question, his expression unreadable. For a moment, he said nothing, his eyes fixed on her face. Then he spoke, his voice firm and steady. "I have my reasons," he answered cryptically. "Let's leave it at that."

That angered her even more; she wasn't a damsel in distress and wouldn't just follow him blindly, "Just give me a straight fucking answer."

Lyutsifer’s expression darkened at her anger, his eyes narrowing as he considered her. There was a hint of irritation now in his gaze, but he kept his tone even.

"Your life is still in danger," he explained, his voice firm but not without a trace of fatigue. "The people who sent those men after you still want you dead. As long as they're after you, I can't just let you go."

"In case you've forgotten, I am a trained agent for MI5. I. can. handle. myself." 

"Clearly not well enough," he retorted, his voice sharp. His words stung, their meaning clear. He was not just talking about the other night but her skills as an agent in general.

“If you distrust me this much, why even save me? You would've saved yourself a lot of trouble if you'd let them kill me."

For a brief moment, his expression faltered as he looked at her. There was something in his eyes, a flicker of an emotion that he quickly snuffed out.

"I don't trust anyone," he responded simply. "And I have my reasons for everything I do, as I just stated. My reasons for saving you, my reasons for keeping you here. You may not understand or agree with them, but they are not up for debate, and the topic is closed."

"Fuck this." She simply muttered and turned around to walk away.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked, his voice cool and commanding.

"For a fucking walk!" she yelled at him, turning around to look at him, fury evident in her eyes, "Or do you not trust me enough to do that?"

Her sudden outburst took him aback for a brief moment. His eyes narrowed slightly, his expression hardening again.

"A walk is fine." His tone was firm, with a hint of warning. "Just don't try anything, understand? I have people watching you closely. And if you try to escape, there will be consequences.”

"Noted." And with that, she walked out of the garden and back down the long hallways of the compound. She walked and walked until she knew she was far away from that garden, far away from him. 

Finally, Y/N stopped on a balcony that overlooked the sea. To be honest, it was probably more of a lookout than a balcony, but she would take what she could get. Leaning against the concrete half-wall, she let out a long breath before closing her eyes and taking in the feel of the sea air hitting her face.

“Hope I’m not interrupting anything?” A voice suddenly broke her peace, causing her to whip her head around.

She didn’t recognise the man in front of her, but his uniform seemed to show he was a guard here; nevertheless, Y/N was still on edge. “Can I help you?” Y/N asked with narrowed, suspicious eyes.

"Just doing my rounds," he replied, his voice casual but tinged with a hint of arrogance. His eyes lingered on her a tad bit too long, almost as if he was appraising her.

“Well, I’m happy to report that there’s nothing of interest out here, just the sea.” Y/N replied, her body rigid, and she assessed the man in front of her.

He chuckled lightly at her response, his smirk growing and his gaze becoming even more appraising.

"Are you sure about that?" he asked, stepping closer to her and leaning against the half-wall as well. His body was only inches from hers, too close for comfort.

“Actually,” she spoke with determination, “I’m done here; anywhere, it’s all yours.” Y/N slid out from where he’d trapped her against the wall and moved back to the door.

As she moved to walk past him, he reached out and caught her arm, stopping her from leaving. His grip was firm, but not too tight.

"Where are you going in such a rush?" he asked, his voice almost playful now. "Thought you'd be enjoying the view a bit longer."

“If you know what’s good for you,” She warned him with a glare, “You’ll let go of my arm.”

His expression changed to one of mock hurt, the smirk never leaving his lips. "Feisty one, aren't you?" he remarked with a chuckle. "But I doubt you're in any position to make threats.”

Despite her warning, he didn't loosen his grip on her arm. If anything, he pulled her closer, closing the distance between them. In an instant, Y/N's expression changed into something dangerous, and they moved quickly and kneed him right in the crotch.

He staggered back with a sharp yelp of pain, his grip on her arm loosening. "You—ah... you little—" he wheezed out, his hand going down to clutch his crotch as he hunched over.

“I did warn you.” Was all she said.

He grunted and finally righted himself, his face a mask of anger and pain. "You'll—ahh—you'll regret that," he gritted out, glaring at her with a mix of anger and surprise.

Not waiting around, Y/N bolted into the doorway and away from the balcony, seeking the refuge of her assigned room. Yet the man had somehow managed to regain composure quickly and was following closely behind her.

She could hear his heavy footsteps echo behind her as she ran, his pursuit hot and relentless. Despite the fact she had a bit of a head start, he was catching up quickly.

Slamming the door to her room open, she nearly leaped inside, turning around to try and close the door behind her. But the guard was too close on her heels and managed to catch the door just as she was closing it, pushing it back with all his might and forcing his way into her room. He locked the door behind him with a loud click.

“You little fucking bitch,” as the guard spoke, he pushed her harshly towards her bed, “I’m gonna teach you a lesson.” 

Y/N scrambled around blindly as she desperately looked for something to defend herself with when her hand brushed against something cold. It was a letter opener, albeit decorative, but Y/N knew it was sharp enough.

Blindly she swung it against him, managing to stab him in the neck. Eyes cold as she watched the man above begin to bleed rapidly, he struggled for a moment and pulled the object out, which only served to cover Y/N in his blood. Eventually, though, his struggling slowed, and he collapsed on top of her dead.

Y/N tried to push him off her, yet her adrenaline was wearing off now, and it wasn’t easy to push someone twice her size off her, especially when they were a literal dead weight. 

Suddenly the door was thrown open; Lyutsifer took in the scene before him in one sweeping glance. His eyes landed on Y/N first, taking in her dishevelled appearance and the blood splattered across her clothes. On top of her lay the crumpled form of one of his guards, a letter opener protruding from his neck and a growing pool of blood surrounding his lifeless body.

Lyutsifer’s expression darkened as he took a step closer, his voice low and dangerous. "What in the world..." he began, his eyes flashing as they flicked from Y/N to the guard and back again.  "Y/N, what happened here?" he demanded, his tone leaving no room for evasion.

“Just get him off of me, please.” She managed to say with gritted teeth, refusing to explain anything until she could breathe again.

The anger from before was back again. “What happened is your trusted guard attacked me and followed me into my room to do probably exactly what I thought he was going to do.” She spoke quickly; her eyes glared at him. “How can I trust you when these are the men that work for you?”

Her emotions were in overdrive, and all she could think about was the conversation they’s had earlier in the garden, how Safin had demanded her trust yet refused to trust her in return. It was the reason she had walked away, the reason she had ended up on that balcony in the first place. 

Safin listened to her, his expression darkening further with each word. A strange mix of anger and something else flickered in his eyes as he took in the scene before him. His gaze lingered on the discarded letter opener, its blade still stained with the guard's blood, before returning to Y/N.

When she finished speaking, he was silent for a moment, his jaw clenched tightly. Finally, he looked at her, his voice flat and emotionless. "You realise you've just killed one of my men."

"He deserved it," she spoke coldly, sitting up now to face him.

He raised an eyebrow at her, his gaze sharp. "Deserved it, did he? And who are you to decide that?" His tone was calm, but there was a dangerous edge to it. He took another step closer to her, closing the distance between them.

"He would've done worse to me," Y/N replied without hesitation, "At least I didn't prolong his suffering."

"You should have run," he said finally, his voice low and even. "Come to me as soon as he started following you."

She bristled slightly at his words, sitting up straighter, “As I've said before, I can fucking handle myself."

"And look where that got you," he retorted with a hint of sarcasm. "You may think you can handle yourself, but clearly, you're in over your head."

"If you had just trusted me, then I wouldn't be in this situation in the first place."

Safin clenched his jaw at her words, a flash of anger passing across his features. He took another step closer to her, towering over her now, his gaze intense and icy.

"Trust?" he repeated, his voice full of scepticism. "You expect me to just trust you after everything that’s happened?"

"Honestly at this point either trust me or just kill me." Y/N spoke with a sigh, completely tired of reiterating the same argument again.

Her words hung in the room; the silence that followed was deafening. His gaze was intense, his eyes searching hers. For a moment, he didn't move, then he sighed heavily.

"You're not making this easy, you know that?" His tone was softer now, but he was still in control. "It's not that simple."

His expression was unreadable. He stared at her for a moment, as if trying to decide how to respond. Then, finally, he spoke. "That kiss was a mistake." His voice was firm, but he didn't sound entirely convinced of his own words.

"That...was a moment of weakness," he admitted, his voice low.

He was caught off guard by her bluntness. His expression shifted, revealing a hint of surprise, before he quickly masked it with a stoic expression.

"That...was a moment of weakness," he admitted, his voice low.

“What about now?"

His expression softened minutely at her question, but he was still guarded, still in control. He took a step closer to her, closing the distance between them.

"What do you mean?" he asked, his voice soft but with a hint of warning.

Instead of answering, she leaned forward, slamming her blood-coated lips against his own. She felt him freeze momentarily, his eyes widening in surprise at her bold move. But he didn't pull away or push her away, his lips responding to hers with a fervour that matched hers. The taste of her blood, mixed with the heat of their kiss, was intoxicating.

Pulling away, she smirked when he subconsciously leaned forward, following her, “Was that a mistake?”

Lyutsifer caught himself just in time, his expression faltering briefly. His eyes flicked to her bloody lips before returning to her gaze, his expression now a mix of desire and something else. 

"No," he admitted softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "That was no mistake."

She was still leaned in close enough that as she spoke, her breath grazed against his scarred skin, "If I asked you to trust me, would you?"

He was silent for a moment, contemplating the idea before speaking. "It's not that simple," his voice cautious. "I've given you enough leeway already.”

Irritated to the point of exhaustion, she sighed dramatically before pulling away from him completely. Shuffling off the bed, Y/N stood and began to walk away in the direction of the ensuite bathroom.

"Where are you going?" Lyutsifer called out, his voice betraying a hint of annoyance.

"I'm not going to sleep with someone that doesn't trust me." She answered like it was obvious, "Besides, I need to wash this blood off of me."

"You can't just walk away from me," he called out after her. His words were sharp, but there was an underlying current of something else in his tone. We're not done here."

When Y/N spoke again, her voice was softer now, more resigned to her fate, "I think you've made yourself very clear, Doctor Safin." Stepping back, she held the door to the bathroom ready to close it, "But if you're still here when I'm done, I'd like to discuss going home."

He didn't respond for a moment, his gaze fixed on her, his expression unreadable. But when she spoke about leaving, his eyes darkened perceptively. 

"You're not going anywhere," he stated firmly. "Not until I know you're safe."

"I'm not the type of person that overstays a welcome, Lyutisifer," her voice remained soft under his dark expression, "I know when I'm not welcome."

His gaze hardened, the muscles in his jaw tightening as she spoke. He was not used to being defied, especially not by someone he had taken such an interest in. 

"It's not about overstaying your welcome," he retorted, his voice low and commanding. "It's about your own safety."

While she didn't respond, Y/N couldn't help but flicker her eyes to the body of the man that had attacked her. Whose blood she now had to wash off.

Safin followed her gaze to the body of the now very dead guard. His eyes flicked back to her, noticing the blood staining her clothes. His expression hardened further as he realised the severity of what happened.

"That should've never happened," he said, his voice flat. His tone implied that he wasn't so much concerned about her being attacked as he was about the fact this had happened under his watch.

"I want to go home..."

He took a step towards her, his expression softening ever so slightly.

"And I want you to be safe." His voice was still firm, but there was a hint of something else, something that sounded like... concern?

"I..." She hesitated, her bottom lip being pulled between her teeth before she spoke, "I can't trust you..."

"And yet you still kissed me." His voice was flat, almost bored, but there was an undercurrent of irritation beneath it.

"You were right..." Y/N spoke, feeling more vulnerable than she ever had in her life, her voice choked with emotion, "This was a mistake." And with those final words, she closed the bathroom door.

When Snow Falls | F.O

Back to Masterlist | Next Chapter Chapter 1. The Opening Ball

Summery: Valeria is forced to attend the 73rd Hunger Games' Opening Ball, maybe a certain blue eyed victor will make her a little happier she came.

TW: Attempted SA, Threats, Referenced SA

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It was the beginning of the 73rd Hunger Games, which also meant that today was the annual opening ball held before the Reapings occur. The highest in Capitol society attended, as did many previous victors; and by requirement, so did Valeria Snow.

As she walked through the ballroom doors, she immediately felt out of depth. She didn't normally attend these events; as a result, she had no idea what to do at them. She wasn't interested in the gossip of the Capitol's upper class, and she had nothing in common with any in attendance.

For quite some time she stood to the side of the grand room, close to the corner. She observed those around her and noticed that despite their extreme dresses and makeup, none of them actually stood out. They all just blended together as a kaleidoscope of fabrics and powder.

As Valeria stood there, she remembered the words her father had spoken to her during her dress fitting.

"I want you to actually speak to people tonight," he'd said firmly, "It's about time you made friends with people of your own stature."

Except, despite being a member of such a high-born family, she never enjoyed the company of her peers. Growing up, she always hated the attention she got just from her name being read out in every class she ever took.

Now she was of age; however, the attention now came from men who wanted the fame that came from marrying into the Snow family. It was why she avoided these events like the plague; those types of people practically filled the entire room.

She glanced hopefully over at the victor's table, only for her expression to fall when she realised Wattson wasn't in attendance. Without him there, she wouldn't dare approach them; the last time she attempted to speak with the others, they'd been polite, but it was clear they didn't want her near them. Her surname likely drew them away, although she wouldn't be surprised if her grandfather had warned them to stay away.

"What's a girl dressed like that doing without a line of men?" She turned to see Cinna; he'd designed the dress she was wearing. The older stylist had been working closely with Valeria since she was eighteen, but she knew deep down his true desire was to style for the games, to be able to make a real statement.

He'd done a phenomenal job. She was dressed in an elegant peach ball gown with a sweetheart neckline and draping sleeves, but the most unique feature was the waterfall of pink and white roses that cascaded down from the bodice to the skirt.

"Cinna, oh, I am so glad to see you!" She embraced him, careful not to cause any damage to the dress. "I'm sorry; I'm just not great at these things."

"Oh, don't worry, darling; I know this isn't your kind of scene."

"You're right about that. God, how do people do this?"

Cinna simply laughed in response before whispering, "I guess some people are better at pretending than others are."

"You could say that again."

"If you ever want to escape, I'll cover for you; just don't hurt the dress," he whispered before winking and walking away.

Valeria smiled to herself as she watched Cinna stroll away to speak to a group of stylists that had gathered to inspect each attendee's dresses. She let out a sigh as her eyes continued to wander from the stylists around the room inspecting each group to find a fit somewhere. Her friends didn't go to these events, and her grandfather had told her that she couldn't just rely on those she already knew; he wanted her to make connections.

She took a breath before walking further into the ballroom and moving towards a small group of women, their bodies covered in bright fabrics, several even covered their faces in various equally vibrant masks. One of the women noticed her moving towards them and whispered to the others before standing straighter than a flagpole and turning towards Valeria.

"Oh my dear, it's so lovely you could join us tonight."

Valeria remembered the girl in her academy, Slykie Moss, or 'Killy', as her friends liked to call her. She spoke like she knew Valeria personally, yet they'd never so much as glanced at each other before. Nevertheless, she replied as politely as she could, "Oh, well, it's my pleasure. Whoever planned this has done a wonderful job. It's beautiful."

"Oh, Alicia planned it!" She exclaimed, reaching behind her to pull the girl with midnight black hair forward. "This is Alicia Crane; you may have heard of her. Her brother's the head gamemaker this year. Can you believe it?"

"It's definitely incredible for them. You must be very proud of your brother."

"Ah yes, he's the pride of the family now," Alicia stated with her chin raised in the air before leaning and whispering to the group. "Now I'm not supposed to say this, but he's got some positively nefarious tricks for this year's games."

Excited giggles spread through the group while Valeria simply smiled awkwardly. She never understood why, but she never got the same excitement from the games others in the Capitol did. At least not after becoming close to Wattson.

Wattson Stein was the victor of the 64th Hunger Games, and four years ago on Valeria's eighteenth birthday, she had saved his life. Feeling a sense of duty for the victor, Valeria checked on him almost every day for three months afterwards. They'd become close friends ever since, although only in secret.

Now every time she watched the games, she couldn't help but picture her friend's sixteen-year-old self taking each tribute's place. So young and thrust into a game of death and fear.

"Oh Valeria, my dear, you must tell me, are the rumours true? You're District Four's newest escort?" Ophelia asked, breaking Valeria from her thoughts.

"Um... yes, it's true." She replied, "I'm very excited; I've never had the chance to visit Four before."

A woman with neon green hair scrunched her face in disgust before speaking, "Eugh, I imagine it smells like nothing but fish."

"Oh goodness, yes," Sylkie agreed with her friend. "Plus, I've heard the sea air is absolutely terrible for your hair."

"Well, I'm not so bad," Valeria tried to advocate on District 4's behalf. "After all, Finnick Odair is from there."

"Are you ladies gossiping about me?" A voice from behind her called, causing her to turn around. There was Finnick, the 'Capitol Darling', in all his glory. His stylist had surprisingly dressed him this time; instead of something outrageously revealing, he wore a suit similar to that of other capital attendees. It was a dark blue with intricate silver embroidery of waves crashing against a rockside, and the buttons were in the shape of silver seashells.

Behind her she heard the women whisper rapidly to one another, followed swiftly by high-pitched giggles. Ignoring them, Valeria took the initiative, and after a deep breath, stepped forward and greeted the victor, "Hello, Finnick, it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm-"

"Valeria Snow," he interrupted, "Believe me, I'm aware of who you are."

Stepping in front of Finnick's view, almost blocking Valeria entirely, Sylkie excitedly asked Finance, "Are you aware she's District 4's newest escort for this year?"

"Well, what an honour it will be to have the Capitol princess visit my district." Finnick replied, a smirk spreading widely across his face; he then stepped around Sylkie carefully so he was facing Valerie once more.

In that moment as her golden brown eyes connected with Finnick's own ocean blue, Valeira couldn't help but inhale sharply. She'd never been this close to District 4's youngest victor before, and he was certainly striking.

His sandy blonde hair had been left reasonably untouched, allowing for his soft curls to frame his lightly tanned face. If Valeria could describe him, it would be the ocean personified.

As she continued to take in his appearance, Valeria's eyes moved back to focus on his face, more specifically his expression. His left eyebrow was raised slightly in a way that showed he was expecting something. It was only then that she realised he had spoken to her again, and she hadn't heard a single thing he said.

"Sorry?" She asked, cursing the heat in her cheeks, and a blush spread across her face.

Finnick chuckled slightly at her before repeating himself, "I said you look very pretty this evening."

Valeria knew he was simply being polite and his usual flirtatious self, but she still uttered a simple "Thank you" and smiled brightly. She was happy someone thought she looked good, especially since it was Cinna that had styled her.

"I suppose it would be wrong to compliment a lady and not ask her to dance."

The blonde raised her head to look at him in surprise to find his hand outstretched towards her. "You want to dance with me?" She couldn't help but ask; after all, she and Finnick had attended many of the same parties, and never before had he so much as spoken to her.

"Well, we will be getting to know each other a lot over the next few months; it seems only right," Finnick reasoned before tilting his head in a teasing expression, "You do know how to dance, right?"

"Yes, of course I know how to dance."

"Good," he said before grabbing her hand and leading her to the centre of the room. "So long as you don't step on my feet, we'll be just fine."

Finnick placed his hand on the small of her back, pulling her closer to him. In turn, Valeria moved her hand upwards towards his shoulder. They began a slow and gentle waltz to music softly playing; they glided across the floor and between the other couples. Valeria found it difficult to look anywhere but at Finnick; they were close enough to feel the breath of the other on their skin.

"Are you really excited to see four?" Finnick said so after a few minutes of them dancing in silence.

Valeria narrowed her eyes in suspicion, "How long were you eavesdropping on the conversation?"

"Long enough," he responded simply before pulling away and raising his left arm to gently twirl her around. Valeria couldn't help but giggle as her hair swished around her face before Finnick pulled her close once more. "Now are you going to answer my question?"

"Well, I've never seen the sea or even a beach, at least not a real one."

Finnick laughed before speaking, "So you became my district's escort because you wanted to see the beach?"

"No!" Valeria exclaimed, "I just... actually, can you keep a secret?"

"Princess, that's exactly what I deal in."

"Really?" She leaned back slightly to look up at him more clearly. "Seems like a bad business model."

"You'd be surprised at how much secrets are worth." Finnick answered vaguely with an air of mystery, as if he knew more than even Valeria about the underbelly of the Capitol.

"Capitol has lots of those," she couldn't help but murmur under her breath.

"Huh," Finnick laughed.

"What?"

"You're just..." he paused as he thought on what to say, "not exactly what I expected."

Valeria hummed in response before looking directly in his eyes, "And what did you expect?"

"Well, I don't think I should really tell you the truth." Finnick, he responded after a long minute of thought; it was clear on his face that he was being genuine.

Leaning slightly closer, Valeria whispered into his ear, "I thought we were sharing secrets, Odair."

He winked before continuing, "You've yet to tell me this big secret of yours."

"Oh right, I became an escort becau-" Valeria was able to continue as she was suddenly pulled away from Finnick, only to be faced with a clearly angry Johanna.

"Just what the fuck do you think you are doing?" She refused to release Valeria's wrist, holding her in place.

"I'm sorry, we were just dancing..." She was confused; why was it such an issue to dance with Finnick? She'd seen him dance many times before at other events with several women.

"Don't play dumb with me; you know exactly what I'm talking about."

"Johanna, stop." Finnick began to step in to try to pull her away. "You know who she is; this is only going to end badly—"

"No Finnick, who she is, is exactly my problem." She was continuously glaring at the girl opposite her. "They're all the same."

While Johanna and Finnick continued their exchange, the latter now whispering harshly to the District 7 victor, Valeria looked around and realised that all eyes were on her. The women she had spoken to just minutes before were smirking at her embarrassment and had begun to whisper to each other. Another glance, and she found the other victors looking at her with the same hatred she saw in Johanna's eyes. She continued to look around as her breath slowly left her, as the sound began to fade out until there was only a dull buzzing.

This feeling was building and building, and it was only when she felt the tears begin to well that she suddenly moved into action. With a strength completely unknown to her, Valeria wrenched her hand from the victor's grasp and sprinted out the ballroom's door.

She ran from the ballroom, needing peace to think after the accusation from Johanna, the glares of the other tributes, and the whispers of the crowds. She still didn't understand what had occurred or even why.

She moved quickly to the other side of the manor she was in, finding a sitting room that was empty. She closed the door behind her before moving to the glass doors on the opposite side of the room; it led to one of the smaller balconies that looked out onto the manor's extravagant gardens. Despite being one of the most famous people attending tonight, she couldn't have been more alone as she leaned over the small balcony. No one would bother her here, and she was far enough from the ballroom that she could no longer hear the music.

God, she hated the Capitol; if she could, she'd move far away. As she stared into the night sky, the stars barely visible from the various lights throughout the Capitol, she thought of her childhood dream of moving from Panem to have a peaceful life for her and her siblings and never having to attend a ball like this again.

Behind her the door to the balcony creaked open, and Valeria quickly turned to see who it was; it was an older man, likely a friend of her father's. His bright pink hair was gelled back, and his equally pink moustache was finely groomed; the only thing out of place was the opened and half-empty bottle in his hand. He stumbled onto the balcony, squinting as he looked around; it didn't seem he had noticed she was there, and Valeria was planning to quickly move away until he suddenly locked his eyes onto her.

"Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes? What is a fine lady like yourself doing so far from the party?"

"I'm sorry?" She exclaimed in disgust, Not only was this man drunk enough that Valeria could smell him from across the balcony, but he was clearly over double her age, possibly even older than her father.

"Oh, don't be like that, dear." He smiled widely before approaching her. "A girl dressed like that is asking for at least a little attention."

Whether he didn't recognise who she was or simply didn't care, this strange man made his intention very clear through that one sentence, and Valeria instantly felt a sense of fear wash over her. Trying to diffuse the situation, she simply smiled politely and responded, "Well, apologies, but it's not the kind of attention I think you're offering."

"Hmm, I like them feisty; please keep talking."

"Sorry, but I think someone is looking for me, so we're done here." Valeria tried to move around the man to exit the balcony, but he suddenly grabbed her arm and pushed her against the balcony rail.

"What do you think you're doing?" She tried to push him away, but he held her firmly in place.

"Now I wouldn't fight too hard if I were you." He moved his hand towards her neck to hold her in place, forcing her to look at him. "See, I was a peacekeeper back in my prime, and I've seen plenty of pretty girls like you out in the districts, so I know what to do when a pretty little thing puts up a fight."

"My grandfather is President Snow... Touch me and... you'll regret it..."

He just laughed into her face; the smell of alcohol was making her feel sick. His other hand was wrapped around her waist, squeezing her tightly. She couldn't breathe, and her mind was starting to shut down. There didn't seem to be a way out of this. As he leaned in to whisper in her ear, his hand on her neck was slowly moving down. "Don't worry; it won't hurt after a while."

He grabbed her dress by the front and pulled, ripping her bodice down the middle and revealing her undergarments. She never felt more naked as the cold air chilled her exposed body and tears streamed down her face. She moved her hand in front of her and tried to push him away, but he was stronger than she was and moved to restrain her arms. With her hands restrained behind her, she decided to close her eyes, afraid to see what would happen to her.

It was then Valeria felt a rush of air as the pressure against her body was pulled away from her; she heard a scuffle before she opened her eyes. It was Finnick who had pulled that man away from her and had seemingly knocked him out with the lamp he still held in his hand.

"Finnick?" She spoke in a hoarse voice, her throat still sore from being gripped so hard.

He turned to look at her before placing the lamp back down on the small table. He began to walk towards her but quickly stopped. "Are you okay?" He asked.

"H-how did you..." She began to question, looking back down at the pink-haired man now laid prone on the floor. "W-hat?"

"Valeria," he spoke firmly, making her eyes focus on him once again, "I need to know if you're okay."

"Yeah... I'm okay," Valeria responded, stunned hearing him say her name, "Thank you for... doing that."

"It's fine." They were both out of breath from the surge of adrenaline. Valeria quickly realised her chest was still exposed and moved her arms in front of her. Finnick slowly moved his way towards her.

"Do you want my jacket?" He had already taken it off and was holding it towards her. She took it from his grasp slowly before pushing her arms in and holding it tight to cover her chest.

"Thank you so much." She smiled at him softly before looking down at her dress, and her lips moved to frown.

"What's wrong?" He asked, concerned.

"He ruined Cinna's dress, and I thought it was so beautiful. What am I going to tell him?" Her voice was high-pitched, almost a whine, and she desperately tried to bring the fabric of her corset back together again.

For a moment Finnick was silent as a stunned expression crossed his face before it fell into a look of genuine kindness. "I'm sure he'll be more than understanding."

"You think?"

He smiled softly and nodded, "Yeah, I think so?"

Valeria smiled before looking to her left and seeing that man still unconscious on the floor; her anxiety began to creep up again, afraid that he may wake up suddenly.

"Do you want to come with me?" Finnick spoke up as if sensing her growing anxiety. Turning back to him, Valeria noticed he was watching her carefully.

"Where?" She sniffed out before wiping tears from her eyes.

He took another step closer, holding his hand out for her to take. "Just away from here, we can find another empty room to sit in."

"But you'll miss the party."

"Believe me, that'll be a blessing." He smiled softly at her, which she returned in kind. She took the hand that he held out towards her and allowed him to lead her out of the room.

They moved further down the hall until what they both agreed was a long enough distance and opened the door closest, which, luckily, led to an empty room. It was a simple sitting room similar to the one before, only this one didn't have any balcony attached. Two ornate sofas faced each other, which Finnick and Valeria chose to sit on. As they faced each other, they began to relax, and they sat contently in the other's presence.

"Why did..." She trailed off, thinking carefully about her question.

"Why did I help you?" Finnick finished her thought for her.

"Yes"

"I'm not a monster, Valeria," he muttered to her, "and you don't deserve that... no one does."

"Well, thank you; I think you probably saved my life."

"Don't mention it." He smiled softly before changing to a look of mock sternness. "Where were your guards, anyway?"

"My what?"

"Guards. Would've thought the president's precious grandchild would have some kind of protection."

"I requested not to have any tonight. I find it a bit suffocating, having someone breathing down your neck the whole night," Valeria responded before looking down in embarrassment, "Although I can see now that was a bad idea."

Finnick couldn't help but let out a sarcastic chuckle, "You might be right about that." And then his face suddenly grew serious, "Don't do that again."

Caught off guard by his intensity, Valeria struggled to form a sentence before blurting out, "Why do you care what I do?"

He seemed genuinely stunned by her impulsive question, as if he didn't understand why she asked it in the first place. Shaking his head, Finnick schooled his expression and shrugged, "You're better than Four's last escort; if anything happens to you, who knows who I'd be stuck with next?"

"Careful," she responded sarcastically, "someone might think you actually like me."

"Oh, we don't have to worry about that, Miss Snow." He replied equally as sarcastic as the blonde sitting in front of him.

"Just call me Valeria." She responded quickly, looking him dead in his bright blue eyes.

Instead of looking away from her intense eye contact, Finnick leant forward, bringing their faces closer together, his eyes never moving from hers. "Alright, Valeria, you can call me Finnick."

"I was already doing that."

"Well, now you have my permission." After he spoke, he smiled again, but it wasn't a bright smile like all the others he made that night; this was different. Valeria would even dare to think it seemed genuine.

It was that moment Valeria realised that the Finnick she knew was never real; like most things in the Capitol, it was perfectly crafted to appease a specific audience. She also realised that she liked the version of Finnick she was seeing; he seemed brighter. If she thought he shone on cameras before, he was like the sun now.

A few moments later the spell was broken when the doors to the room Finnick had hidden her away in slammed open. The Victor stood at the loud sound and instinctively moved so he stood in front of Valeria, who was still sitting on the couch, staring wide-eyed at the now open door.

"Where in God's name have you been?" The man said immediately as he stepped further into the room.

Breaking out of her shock, Valeria quickly stood from her seat and moved around Finnick. The Victor began to move again to block her movements, causing her to speak up, "It's fine, Finnick; this is Blaze, one of my family's bodyguards."

"You were told to stay inside the ballroom." Blaze began to rant at Valeria furiously, "How is it your younger siblings can follow instructions but you evidently can't?"

She spluttered slightly at his words, trying to figure out what to say before deciding to be defensive. "Are you allowed to speak to me that way?"

"I've known you since you were still in diapers and shuffling around on your butt; I've put up with your antics far too long to care about how I should speak to you." His face remained serious, but the left corner of his mouth twitched slightly, which was as close to a smile as Valeria would ever get.

"You make a good point." Valeria sighed, "Are we leaving now? Is that why you came for me?"

"Yeah, the car's waiting outside for us, and it's getting pretty late."

She turned to her left where Finnick was standing. "You need a lift home at all?"

"Oh" He seemed surprised at her offer, breaking his eye focus on analysing the stranger in front of him. "I'm alright, but thank you."

"Are you sure? I can ask them to stop by your apartment or wherever you're staying." She pressed further, feeling a sense of responsibility for the man who'd saved her less than an hour earlier.

Finnick smiled gratefully at her before nodding, "Yeah, don't worry; I have an appointment to go to anyway."

That made Valeria's eyebrows furrow in confusion. "It's almost ten o'clock; isn't that a bit late to have an appointment?"

Instead of answering her question, Finnick swallowed nervously as his expression darkened for a fraction of a second before softening again. "You should get home; you must be tired."

She tried to protest as Finnick stepped away from her, allowing for Blaze to grasp her arm and escort her out of the room. Turning back around as she crossed the doorway, her eyes focused on his own for as long as she could.

As Blaze led Valeria down the halls and into the sleek white car waiting in front of the front steps, her thoughts raced as she played back her entire interaction with Finnick, from their first dance to sitting next to each other in a small side room.

Back in that small side room, Finnick was still standing where Valeria had left him. It seemed that his mind was still catching up to what had just happened. Did he really just spend a night with President Snow's granddaughter?

Not only did he spend a night with her, but somehow within that one night Valeria had managed to shift his entire perception of her on its head. His mind then focused on her golden curls, how they gently fell from her shoulder in a waterfall, and how they faintly smelt of roses. In fact, Valeria smelt entirely of roses.

This time a knock on the door broke him from his thoughts, and he glanced up to find Alicia Crane leaning against it, looking at him with deep desire.

"I've been looking for you, Odair." She said in a sickly sultry tone, "You promised me a night of passion, so let's not waste any more time."

With a subtle resigned sigh, he plastered his trademark dazzling smile on and followed her out of the room.

Back outside, Valeria was fully settled in the car and was now staring out the window as it set off. Yet, even as they went separate ways, both knew that this night was the most memorable night they'd ever lived in the Capitol.

Doing Time | Masterlist

Hana Fedorov is the BAU’s newest agent, she’s sarcastic, intelligent and slightly crazy. She also happens to be the adoptive daughter and protégée of one of the FBI’s most wanted hitmen. After the FBI become aware of a online network of hitmen they hire Hana to help in the investigation. What no one on the team expected was the unlikely relationship formed between Hana and their resident genius. Spencer Reid has a type and it’s women who could kill you. Starts In Season 11. Playlist | Concept Board

Chapter 1. Looking at me

Chapter 2. Night Crawling

Chapter 3. Zitti E Buoni

Chapter 4. Oh My God

Chapter 5. Drunk-Dazed

Chapter 6. Vegas

Chapter 7. Gossip

Chapter 8. Breakfast (WIP)

Can also read on: AO3 and Wattpad

When Snow Falls | Masterlist

Valeria Snow is the 'Princess of the Capitol', as the oldest granddaughter of the infamous President Snow she's lived her entire life trying to make a reputation of her own. After she's assigned as the newest escort for District 4, she finds her life shifting completely off course especially after she becomes closer to the famous Finnick Odair.

Act I. Spring || Playlist I. The Opening Ball

- One Shots -

Back to Welcome | Multi-chapter Fics *Indicates Smut

Josh Washington Chocolate Brownies - GN!Reader Zero Suit* Inked Up* Akhmenrah Fireworks - GN!Reader Lyutsifer Safin "Cherry", (PT2) Masquerade* , (PT3) December Night

Le Chiffre White Fur Trim*

Sunrise | Masterlist

The Tanaka sisters have lived in Forks their whole lives, it's a quiet town where nothing interesting happens. That is until the night of Mitsuko's graduation. Now both Mitsuko and Hoshiko Tanaka find themselves entangled in the world of the supernatural. As the pair learn more, one mystery still remains. Why is Mitsuko immune to the bite?

Chapter List

I. The Tanakas II. Jasper III. Deadly Party Crasher IV. A Sisterly Agreement V. Minor Complications

Can also read on: AO3 and Wattpad

Spencer: I have a bad feeling about this...

Hana: What do you mean?

Spencer: Don't you ever get that little voice in your head that tells you if you're going to get into trouble?

Hana: No?

JJ: That actually explains so much.