HIHI early again I was SURE I had writer's block and then I woke up this morning with a lot of inspo so I decided to hammer one out LELEL.
Thank you everyone, for your responses to my silly little question and as always your support, it means the world to me when people comment and leave their thoughts/rants/speculation bc I quite literally thrive on other people's validation so the longer your comments are the more my brain gets happy juices!
A lot of people seems to like enemies to lovers! SAME! which makes sense bc ya'll are reading this and this is E2L (so far just enemies to enemies).
WARNING: TALK OF WAR AND OTHER MILD UNCOMFY WOMEN RELATED WAR CRIMES.
The moment the ship settled on the sun palace courtyard, Stella stormed off the drawbridge. Her boots struck the ground with sharp, purposeful steps, her rage radiating from every motion. Brandon followed silently a few paces behind, his usual detachment unreadable. The Drakari soldiers that stood by the walkway gave him a firm salute as he dismissed them with an exasperated wave.
This wasn't Brandon's usual ship, so it would usually return to the main fleet orbiting the High Lord's fortress. Stella could see the Silver Ship sitting idly under her prison room balcony, indicating Timmy was back.
She wondered if Brandon did this on purpose. To take her to Linphea and have a shot at her courage like this.
What was she thinking? Of course, he did, and he definitely enjoyed it too.
As she stalked down the palace halls, the moonlight streaming through the high windows felt suffocating, as if mocking her. Her fists clenched at her sides, her breaths ragged. Brandon wasn't following her, at least not obviously, but she could feel the weight of his presence lingering behind her as his armour boots echoed down the hall.
The fact that his study was just across the hall from her prison room sent another wave of frustration crashing through her.
Reaching her door, she shoved it open with such force that it slammed against the wall. She stepped inside and hurled the door shut behind her, the force rattling the frame. For a moment, silence hung in the air, broken only by the sound of her laboured breaths.
And then, she exploded.
Letting out a scream, Stella gripped the dresser's edge, her nails digging into the wood. With all her strength, she shoved the items on top - her hairbrush, some clothes, and other various trinkets Digit brought her - sending them flying. But before they hit the ground, each object froze midair, encased in a faint purple glow, and floated gently back to its place as if nothing had happened.
No. no! He had the place enchanted.
Her chest heaved as she stared at the pristine dresser, her fury building. She stalked to the side and threw her weight against it, trying to topple the heavy piece of furniture. It didn't budge. Even as she shoved harder, it remained steadfast, as if anchored to the very fabric of the room.
"ASSHOLE!" she screamed in rage, the word echoing through the enchanted walls. She knew he could hear her. He was probably sitting at his desk in the study, listening to her flurry with that same damnable cold expression on his face.
Her eyes darted to the mirror above the dresser. Without thinking, she grabbed the nearest object, her hairbrush from this morning and hurled it with all her might. The brush flew fast, its trajectory straight for the glass, and Stella waited for the satisfying shatter to sound, but it stopped inches away. The brush suspended itself in the air before lowering itself back onto the dresser like an obedient dog.
Her frustration boiled over. With another scream, she slammed her fists into the dresser's wood, desperate to feel something, pain, relief, anything. A loud thud sounded as her skin connected with the wood.
But nothing came after.
No sharp pain, no satisfying crack of breaking wood or the scratches of red on her skin. Her fists barely registered contact before the enchantment absorbed the force, leaving her unharmed and the furniture pristine.
Tears blurred her vision as she staggered back, her hands trembling as her teeth gritted. She needed to break something. She needed to feel something, even if it meant hurting herself. Her hands clawed at the collar of her dress, tugging it, twisting it in frustration as if trying to strangle the fire within.
It was sickening what he was doing. If she were back at the rebellion, she could've trashed her bedroom again or even gone out to spar out her frustration.
Here, he was keeping her muzzled like a wild animal.
She sank to her knees, fists pounding uselessly against the unyielding floor. "Is this what you want?!" she yelled, her voice cracking under the weight of her anger and despair. "Is this how you fucking want to win this?! By making sure I can't even feel alive?!"
The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by her ragged breathing. Somewhere beyond the door, she imagined him sitting in his study, unbothered, detached, yet knowing exactly how to twist the knife further.
"I HATE YOU!" she screamed again, her voice hoarse. But the words felt hollow against the room's unyielding magic. She was completely and utterly under his control.
She couldn't even harm herself without his fucking permission.
She slammed her hands against the floor one last time, despite the lack of pain giving her the release she needed, her chest heaving with frustration and grief.
The following morning, Tecna walked into her lab to find her High Commander standing in the arena. A dagger sat tight in each hand with his bare chest heaving as he stood with his back turned to the door. His skin was thick with sweat, glistening under the harsh arena lights. The steady rhythm of his movements cut through the stillness, each swipe of his weapons precise and sharp.
The purple-haired fairy glanced at the silver watch clasped around her wrist, its slim hands pointing to 6:45 am. She could see the controls of the arena whirr with the number of hours it had been running consistently since powering up.
2 hours and 20 minutes.
She knew he often liked to come to the arena and spar when he felt suffocated with his high commander duties.
But something was different today. More different than it was yesterday or the last couple of times he's been consistently coming here and exhausting himself.
Something was on his mind and she had a faint idea what.
Timmy was back unusually early last night, in time for dinner and some quality time with his wife. The Silver ship remained steadfast under the former princess's balcony, but the high commander was not with him and Her Highness was not where she usually was.
"Morning commander," Tecna called out, her voice steady but carrying a slight hint of curiosity. Brandon glanced over his shoulder, his eyes betraying nothing—just a blank mask of indifference. He acknowledged her presence with a curt nod but didn't respond, "You're here early,"
Brandon didn't reply to her observation, instead turning back to face the next round of holographic training robots. His movements were flawless, cutting through them with cold precision. Tecna continued to lean on the open double-door frame, "Where did you go last night?"
He finally responded, his voice lacking concern, "Linphea's rebellion outpost,"
Her eyebrows knitted in the middle, a confused look donning her sharp features, "You knew about that outpost a while ago, what made you go there now?"
Without turning, he slashed through another robot, his breath ragged from the exertion. "The high lord caught wind of it. He wanted the healers taken out of the equation," He replied with a hard breath.
Tecna's lips pursed. She didn't need to probe that any further, she knew the cost of being a Drakari meant ending lives had to be as senseless as breathing. Despite choosing the development of weapons part of it, it stayed on her conscious that most of the tools she builds would be pointed at the innocent.
"And Her Highness? What happened?"
She could see Brandon's body tense up at the question, his back stiffening slightly, "The sceptre didn't respond to her need to protect her people,"
"I figured that much," Tecna knew something was wrong from the moment her usually cheerful pixie came to breakfast wearing a distressed frown. Stella didn't join them for breakfast as she usually does, and on her way down to the lab she could hear the frustrated thuds of the princess trying to break the enchanted furniture.
She had assumed he had taken her to Linphea and murdered her rebellion members in front of her. The notion of it brought about some sympathy for the princess, but it wasn't like Tecna was going to prevent her High Commander from doing it.
"Are you going to let her continue to try and break the palace?" She asked, her voice laced with something like concern.
Brandon continued to slice through the virtual opponents that came at him relentlessly. He was training in the hardest difficulty her arena had to offer, and it didn't even make him flinch as he swerved, cutting and sending his daggers flying at the holographic training machines with undeterred accuracy.
"She can't break anything thanks to the enchantment," Brandon replied coldly, "Let her have her tantrum,"
She sighed, pushing off the doorframe to step into the arena. "Still, you should do something about it if you intend to keep her alive," She muttered, loud enough for him to hear, "At this rate, all that stress could render her mentally incapacitated,"
Tecna had seen it before, during the wake of the Silver's coup de tat and the months during the formation of the Drakari.
Men, women, and even children who were war prisoners usually drove themselves insane after the tragedies they had seen during the blood bath. She had seen people whom she had considered were quite mentally strong lose themselves and be reduced to nothing but breathing shells.
Brandon let out an exasperated sigh, "What do you propose?"
Tecna crossed her arms, her sharp gaze focused on him, as she watched the last of the bots fall to the ground. Brandon acknowledged Tecna's intelligence in areas he was not, he was secure with himself to ask his platoon for advice.
"Looks like she gets a release from breaking things, letting out her stress from the destruction. Kind of like you, Commander," She replied observantly, and Brandon's lips quirked into a brief, almost amused scoff. The princess sought release in the same way he did—through physical means.
"It would do her some good to use the arena for something other than to trigger the sceptre," she added, letting her suggestion hang in the air.
He remained silent at her advice; the arena had finished his 2-and-a-half-hour regime, shutting down to conduct maintenance and clean up. He gazed back at her with a curt nod, "I'll consider it,"
Grabbing his shirt and putting down the daggers, he walked back towards her lab, an unreadable expression across his face as he left the room, leaving Tecna to take a seat at her desk.
Over the last four years, she had come to know him well enough to realise he wasn't the heartless monster she had once believed him to be. At first, she had served him out of duty, but it had evolved into something more. She followed his order, not just as her High Commander, but as the man who had kept her from becoming another casualty in the wake of the coup. If it weren't for Brandon, she would've been killed, or worse, used and discarded like so many others.
She owed him her life, that much was certain.
The aftermath of the Red Coronation had been a series of events that left those who survived it with scorned hearts and minds. Any Solarian court official who managed to survive the Great Hall was hunted down and executed, some even fled to other planets and were then rounded up during the week and shot at point-blank over dug-out pits that were brimmed with bodies.
Most Drakari men, even the ones who were considered unyielding, found themselves bent over and hurling the contents of their stomachs at the bloody, gory mess that was the execution sites.
Many people, who had remained faithful to the old king were forced to pledge their loyalty to the new High Lord. Those who were resistant were slaughtered, sometimes even the faintest hint of hesitance to join was met with entire families massacred, children and beloved partners murdered mercilessly.
Among those permitted to live were the young women that Drakari soldiers and court officials had fancied. During the months that followed the red coronation, women from the Solarian court were subjected to the brunt of it all. Former congresswomen were reduced to objects for the pleasure of their male counterparts who worked for the High Lord.
Any woman who refused was killed on sight.
The rest who were deemed attractive were gathered and auctioned to those who were wealthy enough to purchase them for whatever they desired. It was a cruel and nauseating fate.
A fate that was inevitable for the young fairy of technology who was captured during the palace raid.
Tecna stood in chains, her wrists bruised from the rough metal as the jeering crowd stared down at her. The air smelled of sweat, desperation, and the faint metallic tang of blood. She didn't flinch as the auctioneer called her forward, his smug voice rising above the clamour.
The auctions regularly took place in the Dalthorn District of the planet formerly known as Solaria. A rural slum that provided the perfect cover for the men to come and enjoy themselves away from the other planet officials. Andreas Silver may be a monster, but for the alliance he worked so hard to usurp, he was willing to ignore the dirty work his officials did as long as it was out of sight.
Tecna's dampened green eyes flickered to the last girl who stood sobbing as one of the auction conductors dragged her by the chains around her wrists towards the silmy court man who had won her.
"Next we have number 46 for tonight's auction. This one a real treat, gentlemen, she thinks she's an inventor, a real asset to have," the auctioneer bellowed and the crowd heckled with a couple of jeering mutters. Tecna stared at the crowd, unyielding and emotionless as they leered at her with interest and greed.
Let them gawk. Let them pretend they understood what kind of "asset" she was. She clenched her fists tightly between the thick cuffs that bound them, not out of fear but frustration. Her mind calculated every possible escape route, but the enchanted bindings and vigilant guards rendered her options moot.
"Let's start the bidding at 200,000 Aurum," The auctioneer called. A hefty price already to consider 200,000 pieces of gold was placed on her. A hand raised, climbing the price up, "Do I hear a 300,000?" When the second and third bids came—low, mocking offers—she barely reacted.
Every man with an incessant need to make an intelligent woman submit was bidding furiously. Her price was climbing high, "800,000! Do I hear a 900,000?"
Tecna didn't look up, keeping her gaze trained on the ground as she heard the numbers fly in from every corner of the room. Finally, a voice rang out that her stomach twisted when she recognised who it was.
Magnus Crowell.
"Five million Aurum," he declared, his tone drenched with self-satisfaction and the room erupted in gasps and mutters.
Tecna recognised his voice immediately, a court official who used to serve the old king. The Crowell family had served Solaria for generations. Naturally, it was in his cards to have a seat in the king's court, but once Solaria was usurped, he was the first to pledge himself to Andreas Silver, eagerly and remorselessly at that.
She dared a glance toward him, seated in the official booth toward her left, regretting it instantly. His face was everything she expected: pale, sweaty, and brimming with cruelty. The lust and greed rolled off of his slightly pudgy figure in waves.
Crowell met her gaze, a crooked grin spreading across his lips as he leaned forward. He came across her multiple times when she came to the Sun Palace, a dirty grin on his face every time he made eye contact with her. Crowell had come here just to bid on her today, "Can't wait to finally get you back to my workshop," he sneered.
Tecna's throat tightened, but her expression didn't falter. She wasn't surprised. Men like Crowell always bid on women like her—those who could be controlled, broken, and discarded. Still, she bit her tongue, suppressing the urge to retort. Words wouldn't save her now.
Crowell was known to always be at these, bidding his inheritance on women, but this was his highest bid yet. 5 million aurums was enough to purchase and maintain a small village in Magix. It was a hefty price to place on a woman, but judging by the repulsive smirk on Crowell's face, he was going to make sure to get his money's worth.
Tecna's body shuddered at the thought of it. Remaining in chains for the rest of her life, being owned by that man. Being owned by anyone and not being able to do the one thing she loved.
But she had accepted her fate the moment she was captured, her spirit had already been broken. A shell of the girl she was before.
Once the auctioneer recovered from his flabbergast, "Uh- 5 Million! Do I hear a 6 million?" He asked around the room in an awkward tone. No one in their right mind was going anywhere near 5 million let alone to 6. No woman was worth anything close to that much unless they were the damn princess of Solaria or something.
Corwell's fingers twitched expectantly as he licked his lips, waiting for the auctioneer to slam the gravel and declare him his prize.
Taking in the soft mutters of the room, the auctioneer began his countdown as the Tecna let out a soft, defeated sigh. This was it, the last few seconds of her freedom, "5 million aurum going once, going twice, going three times-"
"Ten million."
The room fell silent.
Tecna's head snapped up as the crowd gazed up in shell shock, up at the figure seated in the official's box where the strong voice had stiffened them.
The new High Commander, Brandon Silver.
He sat lazily, his dark eyes scanning the stage with an unreadable expression. He rested his chin on his hand as if this was all beneath him, yet his voice had carried enough weight to silence the jeers.
Crowell's jaw dropped before a look of rage swept across his sweaty face as he glared back at the auctioneer, who stood with his jaw hung. Crowell had inheritance, but not that much of an inheritance to rival the young high commander.
No one did.
Brandon Silver was not supposed to be permitted to bid, considering his ridiculously unfair advantage as the High Lord's son and head of the Drakari army. Nor was he interested in the women who, by some curse of fate, ended up in these shackles in front of the auction crowd.
However, It was an unofficial rule to restrict his participation. No one thought he would even show up here enough to make that rule an official one. Crowell stood no chance. Not against him.
The auctioneer stammered, uncertain, before eventually banging his gavel. "Sold to High Commander Silver!"
The colour had drained from Tecna's face, despite the no doubt torture and dehumanisation she would be subjected to as one of Crowell's playthings, being bought by Brandon Silver felt like jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire.
Outside of the courts, High Commander Brandon Silver had garnered the bone-chilling title of The Sun Reaper. An unofficial nickname among the captured men and women who learned the news of the man who murdered the Solarian king and princess before bringing about the death of countless Solarians in the Great Hall.
The crowd murmured, some whispering protests about favouritism, but Tecna wasn't paying attention. Her gaze was locked on Brandon as he stood, descending the stairs with a calm, measured pace as if he had got what he had come here for despite the auction still proceeding.
He was even more fearsome now than the glimpses of the commander in training she had caught at the palace. Donned in a black suit, with black gloves covering his fingers as he stood, flanked by two armed soldiers as the auction guards yanked her towards him by the chains around her wrists.
His steely brown eyes flickered down at her. They were the same age, 18 years old, and yet the power that rolled off of him was enough to make her wish they had killed her during the raid. Brandon Silver was close to the former royal family, and he was well-favoured by them, especially the young princess. But he had slaughtered her in cold blood right after driving the same sword through her father's chest as she watched.
The idea of it sent chills down Tecna's spine. A man like that would no doubt be a heartless monster.
"Let's go," He told her in an even tone, turning his back to her as the auction guard handed her chain to one of the soldiers who stood at Brandon's side. Her shackles still clinking, she followed behind in silence. He didn't bother looking back at her and she could see his ship a few yards ahead as it hovered over the slum background.
A white masterpiece equipped with an advanced propulsion system that hummed quietly, its engines far more efficient than the standard models. The outer casing had been reinforced, with improved aerodynamics that allowed for faster travel and smoother handling. Tecna could practically hear the hum of the upgraded thrusters, the same kind of improvements she would dream of for her own creations.
"Why did you bid on me?" she asked finally, her voice steady as they neared the marvellous piece of engineering. He clearly didn't buy her for the same reasons as the men in the room were there for.
Brandon stopped, glancing at her over his shoulder before opening his mouth to reply. Tecna stood with her hands still bound, expecting something sinister and murderous out of his mouth. "You worked on the energy weapons for the former king, didn't you?"
She nodded cautiously.
"Do you remember the schematics?"
Another nod.
"Good," he said simply, continuing his stride. "If I give you all the materials you need, can you recreate it?"
It took her a moment to catch up with his thought process. "You want me to rebuild it?"
"Yes," he replied, his tone flat. "I use the prototype of it that the former king had given me, but it's not as effective," He sounded unfazed when he spoke of the man he had murdered. A man who treated him like a son.
The green broadsword he had, the one she created as a project. She had seen him use her creation in the arena before the red coronation. He moved with it as if it was made just for him; she couldn't deny the excitement she felt when her engineering worked cohesively with its user.
"I'll make you a better version," she offered after a pause. "If you spare my life." She bartered cautiously.
He stopped again, this time turning fully to face her. His brown eyes locked onto hers, colder than any machine she'd ever worked with.
"I already spared your life," he said, his voice sharp but quiet. "Continue to build for me, and I will spare it indefinitely."
There was no threat in his tone, only fact. For the first time, Tecna understood why they called him The Sun Reaper. There was no malice in his actions, just the methodical efficiency of a man who saw lives as tools.
Still, she couldn't help but admire the precision of it all, even as the chains on her wrists reminded her of her place.
This has to be one of my fave chappies so far, I really like Tecna's character, plus I liked writing a glimpse of life after the red coronation for others while Stella was in the rebellion, it adds depth (in my head) to the rest of the story.
Question of the chappie: Who is your favourite character?
Star: *RANT INCOMING* Well he is a game character but my *current* favourite character is Sylus from LADS. I don't actually play the game, I heard it's really good but i've seen every single Sylus card possible in walkthrough bc that red eyed silver haired leader of the Onychinus mfffff got me WEAK. IDK what the developers of this game was smoking but I want some of it cos FARK Sylus is soooo fine. They made him so farken WIDE too like gaaaaddammm the standards are so high. (also if you haven't made the connection yet, Brandon's personality is HEAVILY inspired by early Sylus personality when he was in his red flag era)
Lots of love,
Star