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Ravus Nox Fleuret, line of the Oracle, orphan son of Tenebrae, the love of your life. Of course that last part is a complete secret. No one can know of your intimate relationship, the value you hold to him. No. That would just be another for the Empire to use against him.
It's not really a surprise that you met him at work, as personal hand maiden to the Tenebraen Prince at the behest of the Niflheim Council. You were part of a carefully selected team of skilled blue collared workers that would take care of his every need while he managed the Country after his Mother's demise under the Empire's all seeing eye. You were kindred spirits you thought, as you watched him pour over documents and dalliances. You weren't meant to be here either, under the heavy thumb of the Empire, your own family tortured and executed for not being a product of Gralea. Bound into servitude by bullies and placed in a cage. Yes, you were both very similar because at the end of a day a cage was a cage no matter how gilded.
Can I get you anything my Lord?
Sharp silver eyes found yours, brows that had been creased in frustration softened, and your heart would skip as soft, thin lips would part in a soft sigh. Just some tea, and perhaps your quiet company?
So you'd sat by diffused lamp light, quiet as a church mouse, watching him as he worked and pondered over the minutia of day to day governance. He would ask for tea, something light to eat, and very occasionally your opinion. It became a routine of yours, at the end of the day while the other staff unwound and gossiped in their quarters, you would sit in his. Or the study. Or the library. A quiet empath, soothing the mental turmoil of this broken Prince. Torn in his duty and split with love for his Country and the love for his sister. You offered thinly disguised comfort, bringing him his favourites without asking, stoking the fire and placing blankets and cushions on the nearest chaise long knowing Ravus would never make it to his own bed. Over these distilled nights you found your fondness for him growing. Yes he was regal, proud, fierce and terrifying but there was gentleness to him. He loved his sister with all his heart, it's why he did what he did. By extension he loved her personal messenger. When Luna would retire to bed Pryna would come and sleep by his feet, or the open fire if the weather was cool enough. His hand would ghost over the short hair of the messenger dog, scratching her behind the ear as she rested her muzzle on his thigh, doting eyes looking up at the Prince with an unconditional love.
You enjoyed these tender moments amongst the days of servitude and terror. For a moment you were almost away from it all, and in your fantasies it was a moment of domestic bliss. So used to one another's company words held no meaning. Perfectly content in one another's company, silly really, but the thought of reaching the end of the day and spending those liminal hours with Ravus kept you going.
One day everything changed, on the 5th anniversary of his Mother's passing he was particularly sombre. Beyond his public duty he spent the day in isolation, refusing to eat, to see any of the staff, his general's, even his own sister. You decided to be brave, knowing well what grief could do; so you'd brought his favourite tea and cakes on a silver tray and stood trembling outside of the doors to his private rooms, breathe warming against the lacquered, white doors.
You should go to him, the young Master could do with warmth. He may reciprocate kinder than you expect.
Gentiana appeared from behind you, it happened a lot with the messenger. With a dark elegance she appeared from thin air parting advice and with a soft, almost mischievous smile she would disappear before you had time to register her presence. So you did. You entered with a timid knock, expecting rage and seeing emptiness. Ravus looked at you from the armchair near the window, dressed in an open shirt and slacks and nothing else. Practically slumming it for him.
Can I get you anything my Lord?
You asked him with a knowing softness in your tone as you placed the tea tray on his desk, heart thrumming in your chest as you approached the dishevelled Prince. Ravus raised from the chair with effort, but certainty as he towered over you, long, carved hands reaching for the soft skin of your heated cheek. His silver eyes housed a lot of pain, remnants of his suffering plain by the blemishes of red and purple on the underside of his eyes.
Your company...
He whispered before he captured your lips for the first time, pulling your body to his, sighing as held you. The sweet relief of being able to touch diluting his anger and grief.
You knew you'd never be a Princess, simply accepting your role as his mistress but finding gratification in the reality of it. Gentiana would give you a knowing look and Lady Lunafreya would act jovial whenever she crossed you in the manor's halls. Glad for a glimmer of happiness in her tormented brother's life. She would thank you for your hard work, smile reaching all of the way to her eyes. Hands of the divine would shimmer over yours, not able to full divulge the appreciative joy that Luna felt for your relationship with her brother.
It has been such a long time since I've seen him smile...
She would whisper under breath, trembling, before being ushered away by Gentiana.
Not that Ravus would ever admit anything to anyone, especially Luna. You were his secret. His. Truly it was to keep you safe from prying eyes and Niflheim spies, but Ravus is also possessive. As a Prince he is used to enjoying the finer things in life, and he expects it to be for him exclusively. He's never affectionate during the day, your roles are too removed and if he's seen to be softer on you then there will be gossip and gossip leads to discovery. Yet on a night when the world winds down, even for the Empire and his study locked his attention is solely on you. Chasing pleasure and claiming every part of you over and over until you're left quivering and whimpering his name. Surprisingly Ravus a considerate lover, making sure you're left satisfied before even thinking about his own end. It's an interesting dynamic for him, serving someone else before himself. But don't mistake his serving for you being in control. He will take you whenever he wants to. On his desk, against the window, over the fireplace, in his shower, tied against his bed post. The rooms to make love in might be limited but Ravus is a strategist, he will utilise the space to his advantage.
Then when it's your turn to please him, you take it slow, lethargically loving your broken Prince, whispering kisses into his marble skin, his strong shoulders and long arms. Running your hands over his beautifully crafted body as regal eyes watch you work. He always grew tired of your ire, impatient with your light affection, but also feeling undeserving. Eventually Ravus will take charge again until you're both a panting mess holding onto one another for support.
The only time he allowed you share his bed and stay the night was before the departure to Insomnia. Ravus knew what was ahead for him, and in your heart of hearts so did you. He'd fuck you, guiltily look at you as your writhed under him and then he would repair the damage by smothering you in cool kisses and trembling touches. You feel asleep naked in his arms, feeling truly safe and at home with him. Then woke to him dressed, preparing to leave in the inky dark of morning.
He pressed his forehead to yours, running gloved hands through your hair, nuzzling against your brow as the vestiges of sleep clung to your aching body. So. This was it. You reached for him, fingers connecting, entwining in silver – blonde hair, curling at the base of his neck as tears bubbled in the back of your throat.
Can I get you anything my Lord?
You asked one final time as you held him in your shaking hands, trying to commit him to your every sense.
Ravus smiled, truly. He let out a soft laugh as he failed to keep his own emotions under check. Looking at your red lips, soft form and the way you felt against him, he wanted to remember this forever. A moment of happiness against the tragic backdrop of his life.
Just your love, wait for me my fragile blossom. This will be over soon and I will be back for your hand.
For his final act of love Ravus entranced you with a deep kiss, burying his eternal love in the sweep of his tongue, and press of his lips against yours. You watched at Ravus Nox Fleuret, Prince of Tenebrae and love of your life left, proud and strong and yours, forever.