A Man Of No Consequence (Ardyn x Reader)

In the lap of the Gods

You sit on the bed, wrapped in the white satin sheet, hugging your knees to your chest. The sheet feels cool against your skin, a pleasant change to the burning heat still lingering all over you body.

Staring out the window at the pale moon, you count the days in your mind. It's been just over a week since you left your home. Hearing the news on the radio that Insomnia was under attack, you rummaged through your closet, throwing everything and anything you thought you might need for a few days, into your suitcase. You count the days again. It's been five days since I've slept through the night.

The toll sleeplessness has taken on your body has felt more real and more heavy by the day. Your mind has become overactive, and you see dream-like visions while wide awake. Your body has been aching and every muscle has become tense, your ears ringing and your mouth constantly dry.

But now, sitting on the bed, wrapped in that lovely, glossy, cool sheet, all of the tension has melted. Your mind has stopped rushing, and everything around you seems more vivid, more present and clear. You listen to you breath, it has slowed down. Closing your eyes, you try to hear traces of the tinnitus, that has transformed into only a quiet, distant hissing sound. You turn your palms up to look at your hands. They're not shaking anymore. You feel calm, serene.

Your gaze drifts to the other side of the bed, and to the man leaning back in the armchair, dressed only in a white tunic that's loosely hanging open. He's looking at you, with his elbow on the arm of the chair, his fingers brushing against his lip. Your eyes meet, and linger for a moment as you feel a growing pressure in your chest. He slowly drops his hand on the arm.

"Do not overthink it. It's all quite simple," he says, his voice calm and low.

You don't know how to respond to him, to this man who was meant to be only a temporary inconvenience in your attempts to help your kingdom, but who has completely thrown your life off the rails. He must be insane. He's just an insane old dude, and I only believe him because I'm too tired, I'm hallucinating...

Yet concentrating on your body again, you realize all the restlessness is gone, but you're not sleepy, just present.

You let out a slight chuckle. He responds with a sly smile.

"So when I spoke to you for the first time, you knew...?" You run your fingers along the sheet, feeling the smooth material on your fingertips.

"I had to be sure," he responds.

"So you stopped the ferries from running?"
"I had not a hand in that. It simply worked out in my favour."He pauses to look at you brushing your fingers against the sheets. No other sheets have ever felt that lovely to touch. Everything around you is inviting, pleasant. You feel almost intoxicated.

"You wanted to come, did you not?" he continues. You nod in response. Nothing about the situation is making sense, his words, your life, your body... the thought of it all makes you laugh. He smiles at you as if agreeing with how absurd you find it.

"And I am so glad you came," he continues.

You laugh, moving your palms along the sheet.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you? You thought you'd punish me for trying to spy on the Empire by messing with my head..."

He shakes his head, "No."

In the back of your mind, you know the things he told you are true. The uneasy certainty you've had all along; the nightmares, the voices, the visions all were driving you towards him. It was inevitable. He's telling the truth.

"Do they know what you are?" you ask, hesitantly.

"No."

"Nobody?"