Your Majesty (Summoner x Fushia!Reader

Dance with the enemy

Once you were out of the building, your eyes widened. You stared out at the mass of lowbloods who turned and danced with one another in such a strange chaos. It was dark, the green moon high in the sky and the pink not far behind. A fire, towering higher than your head, was the center of the energy. Its highest flames licked at the night sky hungrily, as the lowbloods touched one another. It was primal, yells and beats of drums echoing through your bones as you felt like an outsider.

You had been an outsider as long as you could imagine. You were outside your lusus' knowledge. You were outside the society you wished to rule. You were outside, always. But you had never felt a hunger to be a part of something like this.

And him

As you looked over at the bronze blood, you saw his eyes alight like embers of that same fire, his wings flexing in the nippy air as he smiled. He was a part of this. He was home. And you desperately wanted to be home too.

As the fiddle played and the lowbloods danced, he looked over at you. Your fuchsia eyes did not belong here. They didn't fit with this raw passion and primal instinct. There was a moment where you could feel his sympathy for you. He knew what you felt. After a few moments, his hands took yours and he turned you.

The turn was so sharp and sudden, it knocked the wind out of you. It knocked stars into your eyes. Soon enough, the two of you were bounding, chest to chest, into the circle of warm-blooded trolls. As he guided you, you were struck with fear. Fear that the lowbloods would hate you, should they see your eyes. So, without thinking, you dug your head against his broad, bull-like, chest and closed the windows to your cold soul.

He looked down at you, still holding that sympathy. "Why are you hiding?" He asked, his scent that of earth, mint, and nectar. You were dizzy, voice faint as you replied. "I don't belong here"

"You can"

He turned, guiding you back out of the circle. He turned you to face the dancing trolls, desperation somewhere in his expression. "Be our heiress... Save us"