A Man Of No Consequence (Ardyn x Reader)

In the lap of the Gods

"Only you."

You take a deep breath, rolling your head around from side to side.

"Why me, then?" you continue, your eyes shut, caressing the sleek, cool sheets.

"It was not my choice. It was always going to be you. It's in your blood."

"And what am I supposed to do?"

He leans forward in the chair, grinning.

"You are my Oracle."

Though he utters the words with conviction, the weight of what he's saying is almost mocking you.

"I am nothing, I am nobody..."

He stands up, beginning to slowly pace around the room.

"Long time ago, there were several Oracles, each able to communicate the will of men to the Gods. One priestess devoted herself to Ifrit, in particular. She remained faithful to him, even after he turned against the other five. You, my dear, are the descendant of her bloodline. Remarkably, you even resemble her in your look."

"Did you know her?"

He stops, dropping his gaze to the floor. "I knew her well. She met a terrible fate in the hands of a foreign King, burned at the stake. And I watched her perish. But as the flames engulfed her body, she screamed at the King and the people watching that Ifrit would keep her safe. She vowed that when the time was nigh, one with her blood would come forward."

"Was she your lover?"

Turning to you, he smiles. "For a brief moment, yes."

You sit up in the bed, grabbing the sheets. "Are we related?!"

"No," he replies laughing. "She had no children, but others in her family did. You have inherited her skill and her destiny through many a generation."

You stare at him, unable to respond.

"Why, my dear, you look so worried. I assure, it's not as bad as it sounds," he continues, approaching the bed and sitting down on the edge. The closer his body is to you, the more blurry you feel. Your gaze finds it's way to the opening in his tunic, and to the large scar stretching across his chest.

"And what if I don't want that destiny?" you ask.

"Then I suggest you seek out Lady Lunafreya, before it's too late."He lifts his arm, taking your chin between his fingers, turning your face to look at him. "But you don't really want that, do you?"

You feel weary, heavy, your hands clutching the sheet. "No," you reply.

You desperately want him to touch you again, your whole body becomes weak at his nearness.

"Good girl," he whispers, leaning closer, placing a kiss on your forehead. You close your eyes, his lips burning on your skin.

"I'll be what you make me," you answer.

"That's what I wanted to hear," he purrs.

You start to drift, slowly sinking into the complete darkness; the cool, accepting, inviting darkness. You allow it to engulf you, to wrap around you, and within a few breaths, you're gone.

-

Next day, he moves you into his room. He explains he wants to keep an eye on you, to make sure you're alright, but you can't help but feel like it's a way of asserting ownership. He goes away during the day, leaving you to figure it out all by yourself. He tells you he expects you to be in when he returns. You spend the day debating the situation with yourself. Reading through the whole of Cosmogony, you try to understand if any of what he's told you is the whole reality.