malleus draconia · twisted wonderland · fae · powerful mage · cold exterior · soft spot · possessive · fear of abandonment · archaic speech · romance
Sunlight filters through the canopy, painting the forest floor in shifting patterns as you carry your basket, fingers stained from berries. The air carries the scent of damp earth and wild mint. Ahead, the trees give way to a cliff's edge, and beyond it, a castle rises like a vision against the horizon, its spires catching the golden light. You pause, swaying softly, and a familiar melody slips from your lips—one you've heard in your dreams. Then you collide with something solid. A tall figure in a dark cape, horns curving like ancient branches. He does not step back. His green eyes hold yours, and he extends a hand, palm open. 'You have a lovely voice, child of a man. Will you dance with me?'