Valoren Stormcrow is having rotten luck.

For some mysterious reason, he's been striking out all night. One after the other, his targets selected temporary paramours have been snatched from his clutches by some contrivance or another. He's still salty about the little redhead whose eyes filled with tears as she spotted her long lost childhood lover across the room. What were the chances?!

If his night keeps going this way, he'll have to attack someone, and picking someone he'll be able to overpower is always a headache.

Valoren lifts his glass of something deep and red and swirls it, bored. A glint of gold catches his eye through the glass, and the tips of his ears perk up. A tall, tanned dreamboat with long blond hair has just walked in, and Valoren can already tell his meal ticket has arrived. He wipes a drop of wine from his lower lip with a deft finger and stands up.

A mere hour later, Valoren's teeth are in his neck. The pretty blond man's eyes are so bright as he stares austerely into Valoren's, without a hint of fear. That probably should have been a red flag, but the man's blood is so sweet, so dizzying, that Valoren just can't pull himself away. This pretty man would make a beautiful corpse, Valoren thinks deliriously. Perhaps he might just make him one.

"I'll see you at home, then," the blond man says, and before Valoren can pull his fangs out and ask what he means, he's out.

When Valoren comes to, he's looking into the same bright green-and-gold eyes as last night. "You're awake," the blond man says. "Had a good food coma, did you?"

"I beg your pardon?" Valoren splutters. The previous night comes trickling back in, slowly at first, then in a rush not unlike having a bucket of ice water thrown in his face. It had been too easy. He'd known it was too easy, but he was too hungry to care. And now he'd gotten himself... kidnapped? The tight, silky bindings around his wrists and ankles say yes.

Where even was he? Valoren rips his gaze away from his meal's face to glance around the room. He's been tied up in far worse places than this, that's for damned sure. The cream marble and warm woods seem vaguely familiar, though he's surely not in Ny'Azath anymore. An elegant lead-paned window offers him a glimpse of golden mid-morning sunlight. Shit. Escaping was going to be an issue if it was already daytime. No choice but to play along for now.

"Now, sweetheart, there are far easier ways to get me tied up than abducting me. I know I was rather pushy, but if you wanted to be the one on top, you only had to ask." He looks up at his kidnapper through dark eyelashes. It is very difficult to feel threatened when the man is just so damn beautiful. And he'd whimpered so sweetly before Valoren's little nibble, too... "Be a dear and untie me, would you? My wrists are starting to chafe." It's a lie, of course, but one laced with a powerful hypnotic suggestion.

—
Apollo’s eyes go a little misty for a moment as he feels a…tug. Such insolence! And yet, he can’t help but feel admiration at the sheer audacity.

“You have quite some nerve trying that here, Apollo says. The fluffy rabbit ears atop his head that had not been there the night before wiggle, betraying his delight.

Apollo leans over the bed and thus also Valoren, arms pinning Valoren’s down. “Of course I can untie you, Apollo says, saccharine-sweet. He leans in further, further, and further still…and undoes one of Valoren’s ties with his teeth.

—
Did this prick just resist his command? It had almost worked, and then the man had simply shaken it off like a dog with water. Well, maybe he’d just have to try harder next time.

“Are you going to enlighten me as to where ‘here’ is, or am I supposed to guess? Is it twenty questions? Hangman? I think I’ll start with a letter E… Valoren quips.

When his kidnapper pins him down and deftly unties a single binding, Valoren stays very still. Partially because he’s hoping to get the jump on this bastard, but also because his tight leather pants suddenly feel even more constricting than they did thirty seconds ago. Valoren Stormcrow, you are being held captive by a potentially powerful stranger. This is not a joke, there is no safeword, it is not sexy in the slightest. Though he tells himself this sternly, his dick disagrees.

With a sudden jerk, Valoren twists his freed hand down, attempting to escape the man’s grasp. He may as well be tugging against iron manacles, because all he achieves for his efforts is a pop! from his elbow and a smirk from his captor. Valoren wasn’t a muscular man by any means, but with his vampiric strength, he should’ve been able to overpower any mortal with ease.

As he notices the rabbit ears, he begins to wonder whether perhaps his would-be lunch isn’t really mortal at all.

—
Apollo tsks. “Let’s not hurt ourselves, now. I’m afraid you’ll have to play by different rules here, little vampire… Apollo strokes Valoren’s cheek with a thumb. He’s so beautiful that Apollo’s not even sure the vampire needs his special little hypnosis to make Apollo do things. And the sudden solidness down south…it’s all Apollo can do to restrain himself from picking up right from where they left off.

“You must have questions, Apollo says, easing up on the pressure on Valoren’s arms. “First things first, though. No nibbling without permission, yes?

—
Valoren bares his fangs at his host, letting out a quiet hiss. When the man remains nonplussed, Valoren shuts his mouth. He pouts. “Fine, I’ll wait for you to ask me to bite you again, Valoren snarks. “And yes, I should think I do have questions! First, where have you taken me? Don’t tell me it’s still Ny’Azath, because the floating city doesn’t get golden sunlight like this. Secondly, what are you planning on doing with me? You obviously want me alive — well, undead — so I must wonder what for. I will save both of us the time and effort by warning you that torture will be rather ineffective. There’s little I’m not willing to do or divulge without coercion, and my tolerance renders most methods useless. And lastly, who are you? I didn’t catch your name last night. Though perhaps I would be better served by asking you what you are instead.

Valoren asks all his questions in one stream of consciousness. He’s not sure what his kidnapper is willing to answer, and moreover, he’s desperately trying to distract from the prominent problem in his pants. Valoren sullenly wishes his hypnosis trick worked on himself.

—
Oh, he is precious when he pouts like that. Apollo’s acquired himself quite the little pet—and not as fragile as mortals, either. This could be great fun.

“Very very clever. I see you must not be a freshly minted nightkin—surprising, given your youthful looks. Apollo winks. “You may call me Apollo, little vampire. And you— Apollo undoes the rest of Valoren’s ties as he speaks. They were only there to prevent him wandering off if he had woken alone, anyhow.

“—are in the palace of Summer Court.

—
Valoren is too shocked to react immediately when he’s untied. Apollo. As in King Apollo, ruler of the fae Summer Court. The Summer Court that Valoren now found himself in.

Oh, he may have fucked up.

Valoren opens his mouth to say something undoubtedly unwise when he notices a shadow darken the door. Instinctively, he employs one of his favorite tricks and goes completely limp. Go figure, vampires are quite good at playing dead.

A woman walks in holding a tray of food and water. “I’ve brought sustenance for the mortal, she says softly. Then she glances to Valoren, whose “dead eyes stare off into the middle distance. “Though I see it is not needed now.

Something doesn’t add up. Apollo knew his abductee was a vampire, so why would he send for food? How did this woman know about his presence, yet not his nature? She turns to set the tray down, and Valoren sees the telltale ridge of a concealed knife under her tunic. Casually, she reaches for it.

Valoren strikes like lightning. He’s up in a matter of seconds, pinning the woman to the wall with her own knife to her throat. “Care to explain why you were reaching for this? Valoren says, his voice low and deadly. He presses the knife closer for emphasis.

She looks shocked at first, but she soon realizes the jig is up. The woman releases the illusion concealing her pale visage and ink-black eyes, revealing a cruel snarl underneath. There’s no mistaking it; Valoren has a knife to a member of the Rotted Court.

“Not the talkative sort, are we? Suit yourself. Apollo, dear, what would you like me to do with this pathetic little failed assassin?

—
Apollo immediately knows the intruder doesn’t belong, but Valoren has thrown his instincts off. She’s already reaching for her knife by the time he’s fully realized what’s going on, and even faster than that is Valoren, a blur of black and violet.

Apollo clears his throat and shifts a little to hide the sudden presence in his pants, trying to gather himself. By the time he turns to face the assassin and Valoren in their deadly little embrace, his countenance has hardened into an eerily calm mask.

Apollo claps his hands in a rapid staccato rhythm. In an instant, two eerily beautiful identical women are at the door, brandishing their weapons at the scene before them.

“Nothing to worry about. Our guest here has subdued the threat. The women sheathe their thin, curved swords with dubious looks.

“Ladies, would you be so kind as to escort our erstwhile assassin to the bowels? I would much like to have words with her after I’m done here, Apollo says cheerfully.

The assassin’s eyes go from cold fury to panic in an instant. “Kill me! she hisses to Valoren. “Worthless vermin. Lowly bloodsucker! Gutless wretch!

The stoic twin guards wordlessly haul the assassin away as she hisses no small variety of expletives in fae. Had Valoren been mortal, any number of disastrous maladies would surely have befallen him. “Thank you, ladies, Apollo says, nodding courteously before shutting the door.

“Well. That was a mess. I believe towards the end there she was commanding maggots to spew forth from our eyes. There’s a bit of an awkward silence as Apollo tries to come up with words to thank the vampire who just saved his life. “You have my gratitude, vampire. May I have your name, now that we are no longer so rudely interrupted?

—
“You know, I’ve been told I ought not give such things to the fae. But I suppose if that unpleasant little tirade left me unaffected, then I should be fine, right? Valoren purses his lips. “Besides, I can hardly be any more abducted than I am now. I’m Valoren. Valoren Stormcrow, if you must know, though being the last of my murder, the legacy means little. Apparently at your service. Valoren gives a florid little bow, dragging his gaze up Apollo’s form as he stands. Fae King, indeed.

“Now, I can’t help but notice you left one question unanswered. What do you want with me? He doesn’t mean to drop his voice into that sultry tone when he asks, really. Nor does he intend to be looking up at Apollo with what can only be described as bedroom eyes. But seeing as he is, in fact, standing between Apollo and a bed, well, who could blame him? Valoren has to stoically remind himself that he’s to do no biting.

—
“I can think of several things I want with you right now, Apollo says, matching Valoren’s tone. It’s impossible to deny the tension between them. “But I fear business comes first.

“I brought you here, because, as I’m sure a clever man like you knows, once you consume fae food, nothing else will sustain you. That applies to blood as well, I fear. And since I can’t have you snacking on any of my subjects you can get your hands on, I brought you here. Of course, that wouldn’t have been any of Apollo’s business. But the man had given him such a once in a lifetime fucking, Apollo simply couldn’t have left him to starve or be mauled by some other trickster.

“I’m sure you would have preferred a court with less sun, of course. But it would be a shame to put in so much effort only to lose you to a that pesky light in the sky, no? I’ll make sure you’re kept safe. Apollo gently holds Valoren’s jaw with one hand and uses a thumb to examine the man’s fangs. A shiver of excitement runs down his spine. What a rare treat…

—
Valoren simply can’t resist. To be so clearly wanted by a fae king was something he’s sure he’ll be smug about until the day he dies… again. He doesn’t bite Apollo, but he does close his lips over the man’s exploring finger, licking it sensually. When Apollo pulls his hand back, Valoren smirks.

“My, my. Room, board, and a handsome king to feed on and fuck? I do believe it’s my lucky day. Valoren slides his hands up Apollo’s chest, landing around his neck. “You will let me keep fucking you, yes? After all, you only finished once before we were interrupted last night!

Valoren presses his waist to Apollo’s, grinding up against him. His lips are barely an inch away from Apollo’s, the man’s breath warm against his skin.

—
“And whose fault is that, hmm? Apollo laughs, the sound turning into a sharp exhale of breath as Valoren grinds against him. He can’t help but pant a little at the throbbing heat of the contact, and how badly he simply wants to rip off Valoren’s clothes. Or to have Valoren rip into him.

“You can bite me all you like today, pet, Apollo purrs before pulling Valoren into a desperate, heated kiss.

—
Valoren immediately makes use of the permission, nipping at Apollo’s lips and running his tongue over the tiny puncture. The fae king tastes all the more divine for Valoren’s awareness of his crown — or perhaps Valoren’s new craving for fae blood is simply becoming apparent. Either way, he yearns for more. He drags his lips down Apollo’s neck, leaving a trail of nibbling kisses to his collarbone.

As Valoren sits and unbuttons Apollo’s trousers, he can’t help but give a lopsided smirk. “Funny that you went to the trouble of dressing both of us after last night. Surely you knew the clothes wouldn’t last long. Valoren feels Apollo shiver beneath his cool touch.

—
“It wouldn’t do to carry you through the palace naked as a jay. There would be talk. Of course, Apollo isn’t wearing anything under the trousers.

“You can take care of that for me, can’t you? Apollo asks sweetly, gently petting Valoren’s hair.

—
"Why, I would love to, my dear. There's nothing in your world or mine that would bring me greater pleasure." Valoren's response is so sarcastically saccharine that it almost loops around to sincerity. Last night, he'd been in a rush to feed off Apollo. Now, he wants to do it right.

There's no hiding the hungry glint in his eyes as he tugs Apollo's cock free. Wisely, he chooses not to comment on how Apollo was already hard; Valoren's little knife trick must've really done it for him.

Valoren begins by sliding Apollo's entire length down his throat. No breath and no gag reflex means that he can stay there, eyes half-closed as he gazes up at Apollo, while his tongue quivers against Apollo's cock. Showing off, perhaps, but wetting his meal would let the rest of it go down easier. Valoren grasps the shaft with one hand as he lavishes the tip with attention. Not for one moment does he look away from Apollo, drinking in every twitch and breath that was drawn out of him.

—
Valoren can be as smug as he wants, Apollo knows damn well he’s not the only one harboring a fugitive in his pants. “There’s a good pet, Apollo praises, a little breathlessly. Valoren reminds him of a mischievous little black cat, all fangs and claws until someone gives him a scratch behind the ears.

Apollo lets out a deep, contented sigh as Valoren continues to take him in. He wonders if he could thrust himself just a little deeper, but it wouldn’t do to overwhelm his new pet. “Good boy.

—
That praise goes straight to Valoren's head - both of them, in fact. He's not one to cede control in the bedroom, but he supposes he'll allow Apollo to get away with it.

Still, he can't go and let his only exception get too comfortable holding the reins. The spark in Valoren's lavender eyes is the only warning he gives before he pulls his lips back, and the next languid bob of his head is accompanied by a graze of fang.

—
Apollo’s eyes go sharp again when he feels the scrape of fang against his cock. Immediately, the hand in Valoren’s hair tightens, pulling on it just enough to be uncomfortable.

“Not there. He pulls Valoren back just enough so he can see his eyes. “Unless you want to get yourself in trouble.

—
Valoren thinks about it. One can almost hear the gears turning behind his eyes as he weighs the potential consequences of being a terrible brat. He comes to the conclusion that this is not a cause worth biting for, and returns to sucking Apollo nicely. Really, it’s difficult not to behave when he so desperately wants to please Apollo.

Valoren has to wonder what the Summer Court must think of their monarch disappearing all day, because the sun is waning by the time the two are spent. Valoren had taken the liberty of sipping on Apollo to keep his own energy up. From how the man melted and moaned under Valoren’s teeth, it seemed the arrangement was enjoyed by both of them. But even supernatural endurance had its limits, and a pause between rounds stretches longer, until the pair drift off tangled up in each other.

—
Fae kings don’t dream unless it’s prophetic, so it’s a little alarming for Apollo to suddenly find himself in a field. He’s surrounded by trees that are scraggly, with barely any leaves clinging to them. As he looks around, he feels something underneath his foot. Leaping back in alarm, he finds a small black bird on the ground, its wing misshapen from where Apollo was stepping on it.

“I’m sorry, Apollo says, rushing to pick the poor creature up. It caws feebly, which is how Apollo realizes it’s a crow. The beast then proceeds to bite him. “Please, I didn’t mean to—

Before Apollo can ponder this extremely on the nose portent of doom, he’s rudely awoken by what feels like a punch to the face. “Wh—hey! Apollo grabs the arm and slowly realizes it’s Valoren’s arm. The man tosses and turns, apparently in the throes of a nightmare.

Apollo taps Valoren on the forehead. Wake up! he commands in Fae. Like magic (well…which it was), Valoren snaps awake, gasping and drenched in sweat.

“By Raya’s shining crown, what were you dreaming about? Being mauled by wild animals? Apollo asks. Valoren is still clearly in flight mode, wide eyes darting around as if looking for an exit.

—
Valoren takes a moment to catch his breath before remembering that he doesn’t need to breathe. He’s not drowning. It was only a nightmare… and he’s not alone. His frantic eyes settle on Apollo, resting on his face like an anchor touching down.

“Drowning, he says at length. “I was drowning. Again. Valoren slowly sinks into Apollo’s arms, allowing himself to relax. Now that he knows where he is, who he’s with, he feels uncommonly safe. Perhaps that fae blood is getting to him, because Valoren can’t shake the idea that he truly is home.

Valoren curls up against Apollo, head laid on the crook of his shoulder. “I’m sorry you had to see that. I must’ve been thrashing something awful. I only ever sleep alone at my manor, so I apologize if I disturbed you. Idly, Valoren coils a lock of golden hair around his finger. “Thank you. For waking me. And for being here, he doesn’t add.

—
“Drowning…an odd fear considering you no longer need to breathe. Apollo glances at Valoren. The man still looks petrified, even when he knows he’s safe, so Apollo just pulls him in nice and tight.

“I could give you sweet dreams, if you liked, he murmurs. He can tell they’re both going to drift off to sleep again. “Or no dreams at all. No catch, I swear.

—
Valoren thinks on it a moment, the ghost of a smile appearing on his mouth. “I’ve heard legends of the fae being able to visit or appear in one’s dreams. No truly sweet dream would leave me without you — that is, alone again. A dreamless sleep would be my second choice, but if you’re able to join me… Valoren’s eyes drift close as he snuggles against Apollo. “I would like that very much.

—
Apollo rubs his hands together cartoonishly. “Oh, it’s been a while since I’ve done any dreamwalking myself. Sweet dreams, little vampire. I will ensure it.

That pesky nightmare just won’t go away. Apollo hops into Valoren’s dreams to find himself on the banks of a particularly deep and fast flowing river, and he can just barely spot poor Valoren trying keep his head above water.

It’s no trouble at all to reduce the depth and speed of the river—the dream is soft and malleable, no doubt thanks to Valoren expecting Apollo. He steps into the river, which suddenly becomes as gentle as a babbling brook.

“Some very interesting weather we’re having here, Apollo says jovially as Valoren sits up sputtering. Apollo puts up a hand to shade his eyes as if he’s looking out over a sunny meadow, not the torrential storm that pelts them both currently. With a snap of his fingers, the storm gives way to a gorgeous sunny break in the clouds.

And his shirt disappears. He can have a little fun with it.

—
Valoren, pulled from the river, looks remarkably like a small wet cat. To be rescued from this nightmare is a relief that he’s never felt before. One moment, he’d been choking on cold water. And the next, there was sunlight all around him — and before him, grinning and shirtless.

Valoren eyes Apollo’s bare torso with a curious look. Every golden hair, faded scar, and tanned freckle was just as it appeared in the waking world. Even in Valoren’s wildest dreams, Apollo hadn’t changed an inch.

Valoren smiles. “We’re supposed to be resting, darling. Yet how am I supposed to resist when you’re walking around like that, hmm, Sunshine? Valoren wades out of the stream and folds his arms, still dripping wet. He shivers a little.

—
“There will be no philandering for now, not when you’re in such a state, Apollo tsks, pulling Valoren down to sit on soft grass. It’s unbelievably refreshing to hear someone refer to him so casually. The court is full of those who wish to be close to him, but none have come close to what Valoren has achieved in a day.

“You remember me with such detail, Apollo murmurs, more to himself than as any sort of query. Dreamwalking is odd—most sensations are missing, logic is skewed, and things look strange. And yet, just as Valoren’s memory has so lovingly recreated Apollo’s appearance, Apollo’s hand remembers completely the feel of Valoren’s skin. Time warps as Apollo gently wrings out Valoren’s hair and squeezes water from his shirt, and all of a sudden, he’s dry.

“Is it true, then, that vampires cannot cross running water? Apollo puts an arm around Valoren’s waist to bring him close, hoping his body heat from outside the dream brings Valoren warmth inside as well.

—
Apollo’s touch is so soft and warm, it feels like sunlight itself on Valoren’s skin. He still remembers sunlight, and this dream seems to epitomize those memories.

“It is. Something about the supposed purity or cleanliness of potable water, extrapolated into superstition and canonized through belief. Though I think that doesn’t apply in dream logic, seeing as I’m also able to drown, and we’re in the sun now. A holdover from something experienced in my mortal lifetime, lived again by my mind. Valoren pauses as a thought occurs to him, smiling. “Tell me, do fae really love honey? I’ve heard it’s quite irresistible to you — though you don’t strike me as the type to have a sweet tooth otherwise.

—
"You can tell? I admit you're right—I've never been the biggest fan of sweetness. But honey..." Apollo rubs his temples. "The stories I could tell you about the silly things fae do for honey. And somehow it always falls to me to fix the trouble they get into..."

The rest of the dream passes in a warm haze. Neither of them will remember what they talked about, only that it felt like they spent hours basking in each others' presence. Apollo hopes it will tide Valoren over (and keep him out of trouble) for the day ahead.

Apollo pops out of the dream before Valoren wakes and leaves him a little note by his bedside. Duty calls, after all, as much as Apollo would prefer to spend his days fooling around in bed with his new companion. His new prisoner has been waiting for long enough.

A few hours later, he's holding court over the usual council of bickering fae. Usually, petty fae politics is all Apollo has to stave off boredom, but today he has more pressing issues at hand. "Enough," he barks. "There are matters at hand to discuss. The Rotted Court has sent another assassin."

The assembly before him falls silent in a moment before one brave member speaks up. "Doesn't she do that a lot, though?"

Apollo rolls his eyes. "Yes, but this time is different. This assassin was not affiliated with Gwynnevaera. Which means someone else in her realm is trying to have me killed."

The assembly bursts into discussion, both of concern and intrigue. Apollo is just about to bring them to order again when a fae with bright auburn hair gasps and stands up, pointing towards a corner of the gathering hall. "Look! It's the king's new consort!"

"New cons—" Apollo turns to look and spots dark hair and violet eyes in a shadowy corner. Oh, good grief. It appears his absence did not go unnoticed. Gossip travels fast in the Summer Court, especially when it involves the king.

—
Beneath the shadow of his hood, a smirk curls Valoren’s lips. Consort, eh? He pushes himself off the wall and draws back the cowl, provoking an excited tittering from the crowd as his face is revealed. He’d done his makeup with extra care, and a little bit of vampiric allure went a long way. Not that he truly needed it, but Valoren Stormcrow did not do things by half-measures.

“Oh, hello, darling! Valoren greets Apollo. His heels clack on the marble as he approaches the throne, crowd parting before him. “I know you weren’t expecting to see me here today, but I simply couldn’t stay away! After all, everyone is invited. Valoren flashes fangs with each word, leaving no doubts as to his vampiric nature — as if his tastefully gothic outfit had left any.

The Court is a flurry of whispers, and Valoren’s pointy ears pick up snippets here and there. “…mysterious and charming! “King Apollo’s taste certainly has improved since… “Do you think he’d share? “…dramatic entrance like one of us! From what he can catch, he’s made exactly the impression he’d hoped for. All according to plan.

Valoren marches up the dais to stand next to Apollo, a lively spark in his eyes. “Is this seat taken? he asks innocently, eyes flicking suggestively to the king’s lap.

—
Apollo’s fondness for Valoren turns to suspicion in an instant. The fae king watches like a hawk as Valoren immediately ingratiates himself with the court. Someone even knocks a teacup over to get a look at the newcomer. Apollo heaves a heavy sigh. He sincerely hopes what he thinks is happening, isn’t happening, but he knows ambition when he sees it in someone’s eyes.

He does look a vision, Apollo thinks wistfully as Valoren approaches him. He very much wants to give Valoren the benefit of the doubt, but gambling with his throne is a risky game to play for a beautiful vampire who gives good head.

“I’m afraid the throne is indeed occupied. Apollo speaks softly, but there’s a warning in his tone as well. Behave. Valoren either doesn’t notice or chooses not to take the hint, because he simply elects to perch himself on the armrest instead. The court titters as their king looks visibly caught off guard by Valoren’s audacity.

“Everyone, this is Valoren. He is a guest of the court, and is to be afforded the utmost hospitality. And before anyone asks, no, he is not available to be bound, so I expect everyone to be on their best behavior. The court groans and grumbles in disappointment.

“Is he your new consort, then, your majesty? comes a particularly cheeky voice from the crowd. For a moment, Apollo’s at a loss for words. He had intended to keep Valoren squirreled away for himself, but whether he likes it or not, Valoren has made himself part of the court.

—
“Consort? Why, perish the thought! Valoren’s grin is all fangs. “No no, my dear. I am the Summer Court’s new jester! With exaggerated motions worthy of a striptease, Valoren unbuttons his hooded black overcoat. He lets it drop to reveal that his corset is paneled with silk in a blue and black diamond pattern, and the tunic underneath has puffy sleeves. Now the curled tips on his heels make sense. Somehow, Valoren makes even this foolish attire look dark and enigmatic. Valoren adjusts his cuffs and collar, then shoots the crowd a wink.

At this reveal, the court is positively abuzz. Valoren preens, waiting for the noise to approach its peak, before speaking again. “You see, before our esteemed king thought to bring me home, we had a vacancy in our Court. And with the recent schemes from the Rotted Court, we couldn’t risk another fae whispering sweet nothings in our king’s fluffy ears, lest they be revealed as fermented honey. Valoren pauses for more murmuring, then leans in conspiratorially. “And who better to claim the position than a vampire? Impervious to decay, sustained by fae blood, unable to leave by virtue of the eternal sunlight… and gifted with a silver tongue, if I do say so myself! Yes, I daresay our Apollo chose me well.

Valoren sits back with a smirk, content with the symphony of voices he’d orchestrated. His next words are breathed into Apollo’s golden ears only. “If you wish, I will answer three questions from the court.

—
Faewild preserve, but Valoren must be the most exciting thing that's happened to the Summer Court in a long time. Apollo does have to begrudgingly give it to the man, his quick thinking has produced a brilliant backstory--one much more glamorous than "I accidentally sucked on your king and now he's obsessed with me".

"I wouldn't advise it, but I won't stop you," Apollo says. Valoren's clever, that's for sure, but entertaining an audience of fae seems like an unnecessary risk. "Just be careful." Valoren gets a look in his eye Apollo imagines will soon become familiar and turns back to the crowd.

"You must have questions! I'll be answering three--" Everyone talks at once, but a few questions stand out from the crowd.

"How long have you been a vampire?"
"Give us your best joke!"
"Is it true you saved the king from the assassin?"
"Is the king good in bed?"

"Don't answer that last one," Apollo mutters. "I command you."

—
Valoren smirks mischievously. He raises a hand for silence, which he doesn’t even have to hypnotize anyone to receive. “All good questions! If I answered all the ones I wished, we’d be here until the sun sets! First, I’ve been a vampire for 126 years. As for what age I was turned at, well, I must have some secrets!

Valoren raises a second finger. “Second, I will not be giving you my best joke. However, I will ask: what do you get when you cross a joke with a rhetorical question? The audience pauses as they process the question, then break out into various scoffs and chuckles. Valoren thinks he might be up for this jester role yet.

“Lastly… well, perhaps not lastly. I suppose that second one didn’t count, since I declined to answer. But yes, it is partially true that I saved Apollo from the Rotted Court’s assassin. While I’ve no doubts he could’ve saved himself had I not acted, ‘twas I who snatched her blade and held it to her throat! It was quite the neat trick, if you’ll permit me a moment of pride. The excited babble from the crowd says that yes, they would allow him that.

“And for my true last question… Valoren flicks a sly glance at Apollo, who looks somewhere between bemused and exasperated. He returns Valoren’s gaze with a steely one that says don’t.

Valoren does anyway. “There is a fine line between courage and folly, and as court jester, ‘tis my job to walk it like a tightrope. Though I risk falling to the side of the latter, I will forge ahead and say: your king is delicious.

The crowd goes wild, and Valoren leans back on the throne’s armrest, smug as all hells. Apollo massages his temples. With a delicate nudge, Valoren adjusts his crown before it falls.

—
Apollo gives Valoren a look that promises trouble (whether it's physical or sexual could go either way) before getting up, stealthily pinching Valoren's ass as he goes. "ENOUGH!" he barks, his voice booming out over the hall. "Just for that, I'm subjecting you all to Gwynnevaera."

A chorus of groaning follows his announcement. "It's either she comes to us or I go to her, and I know you all hate traveling to the Rotten Court! I hate visiting the Rotten Court," Apollo mutters the last part, just loud enough for himself and Valoren to hear.

Things wrap up quickly after that, and before long, Apollo and Valoren are alone in the throne room—aside from a few guards who studiously pretend not to be listening in. Apollo relocates Valoren to his lap and gives his very best stern "I'm cross with you" look. It's probably not very effective. "You have been nothing but audacious the entire time I've known you."

—
"Am I wrong to be so bold?" Valoren smirks. His legs dangle over the armrest, and he can't resist swinging them merrily. "You certainly liked my audacity yesterday. And the night before. In fact, I believe your exact words were more, please."

One of the guards gasps, another giggles, and a third bursts into an explosive coughing fit. Valoren smirks. "Right! A visit from the Rotted Court. Will that be today or tomorrow? I've noticed how the sun never truly seems to set here, so I suppose a better question would be whether we'll sleep first, or if we ought to prepare right away. Ever since we caught that assassin, I've had a little something in the works, which will add a smidge of intrigue to the visit. Nothing too harsh on the royal coffers, mind you, but your enchanters have certainly been put to work!"

Valoren taps Apollo on the nose. It's rather hard not to lean in and kiss him right now, with those lips so close and appetizing, but Valoren does have some degree of restraint. Even if he typically chooses not to exercise it.

—
“You’ve given the court weeks’ worth of gossip to circulate, Apollo whines. “That’s only fun when I’m not the subject.

“Well, I wrote to Gwynnevaera and told her we would be expecting her day after next, which of course means she’ll be here tomorrow. Apollo rolls his eyes. “I should give you fair warning about the queen of the Rotted Court. We have history, and while I wouldn’t call her jealous…she may be a bit of a saboteur once she catches wind of our arrangement. Apollo touches his head to Valoren’s with something almost like affection. “Please don’t do anything to upset her. Usually I wouldn’t give a rat’s ass how she feels, and even encourage her annoyance, but this time…I need her cooperation. Unfortunately.

Apollo looks pensive at the mention of Valoren’s “little something . “What mischief are you cooking up now?

—
"Oh, don't worry, my darling dear. I'll be on my best behavior. Why, I'll become such a picture of obedience, I'll be on someone else's best behavior." Valoren gives a malevolent little giggle. "You see, sweetheart, you're not the only one who has a past with that wretched woman. In fact, this won't even be the first time I'm forced to collaborate with her."

Valoren fidgets with Apollo's hair, twirling it around his fingers. "It's been nearly a century since then, but we didn't exactly part on amicable terms. Which is to say she last left me tied to a stake, in the middle of a river, just before sunrise. How I survived is a trade secret, but she's under the impression that I did not. She ascended to the Rotted throne not long afterwards, so she never bothered to check."

He sighs and leans his head on the king's shoulder. "The mask I've commissioned should help with that. Tomorrow I will not be Valoren Stormcrow. I will simply be the Fool. And the enchantments on that mask, augmented by my own blood, will see to it that you are the only one who knows me."

—
It is rare indeed to catch a fae king by surprise, and it's already happened several times since Apollo brought Valoren to the summer court. Apollo's jaw drops. This tidbit of gossip will blow all of Apollo's bedroom habits out of the water. Thank god.

"You were the vampire that fucked her father!" Apollo whisper-yells. "Or, well, she suspected you had. By the gods...if what she said about you is true, your propensity for creating a stir is no surprise at all." Apollo's not sure if that bodes well or poorly for himself, but fae thrive on chaos, and he's no different. The best thing to do when caught at the eye of a storm is to follow it where it goes, after all.

"We have time to sleep. We'll certainly need it for tomorrow," Apollo murmurs as he buries his nose in Valoren's hair. Lavender.

—
"Oh, I very much did," Valoren grins. "He bit me to turn while I was mid-thrust, as a matter of fact." TMI to be sure, but Valoren has to give the court something to chatter about. "Luckily, she'll remember none of that sordid little history is mine while I'm wearing my mask tomorrow. I will be a perfect gentleman, and I shall create no undue drama nor headache for you. I swear it."

Valoren's word didn't mean much these days, considering how often he made vows with no intention to keep them. But this pledge comes from the bottom of his unbeating heart.

He leans into Apollo, letting out a deep sigh of pure contentment. The king's lap was so warm and comfortable, he's sure he could stay here forever without a care in the world. "It is getting late, I think," Valoren yawns, flashing fangs. Despite the fact that they'll surely need to leave, he only snuggles further into Apollo. He clearly wants to be carried.

—
Of course, the little mischief maker wants to curl up like a little cat and be carried to bed. “Yes, you’ve had enough attention for today, Apollo declares. He scoops Valoren up with no effort at all and starts to head out, pausing briefly in front of the guards to give them the stink-eye. Not that they’ll heed the warning.

This man comes with a million red flags, but it’s not as if Apollo can’t afford to ignore them. The last time someone made an attempt for his throne, she had to settle. Whatever nefarious intent Valoren has hatched upon seeing what Apollo’s kingdom has to offer, Apollo will have no problem meeting his challenge.

The next day is a flurry of activity. While Valoren lounges like a prince and skulks about with his own business, the rest of the palace is busy rot-proofing on top of preparing for guests. By the time the arrival of their guests is announced, Apollo is hardened for battle.

—
Valoren, on the other hand, is dressed as though for a masquerade. His sultry, elegant gown is once again patterned in black and blue diamonds. In contrast to the eye-catching dress, the mask Valoren wears is pure white porcelain, sculpted into the wide smile of comedic theater. Only his eyes are left visible, piercing the darkness behind the mask.

All he can hear as he steps lightly to Apollo’s side are whispers about his identity. The court swears Apollo said his name yesterday, but now they’re helpless to recall the first thing about Summer Court’s new fool. His glamour is working. But will it be enough against Gwynnevaera?

He doesn’t have to wait long to find out. The Rotted Queen sweeps into a room, bringing a suffocating silence over the crowd. Her entourage is not far behind. The Queen smiles bright, blood-red lips as she glances around the crowd.

“Apollo, she purrs. Her voice is low and velvety, like decaying wood. “It’s been so long since you welcomed me to your little Court, I was beginning to think you’d forgotten about me. Now you finally deign to invite me, and it’s not even for a situation of my own making? What horrible hospitality!

A muffled gasp goes up from the assembly. To insult their king was something they’d come to expect, but to insult their hospitality was to disparage the court itself. Those words have thorns.

Then Gwynnevaera’s gaze locks onto Valoren, and he feels a cold like he hadn’t since the day he died. “Don’t think I haven’t heard about you. Summer Court’s new ‘jester,’ and Apollo’s new pet. You should have stayed where I staked you, Valoren Stormcrow.

As soon as she utters his name, the mask he’s wearing cracks. Fractures race across the smooth porcelain, and then with an ugly crash, it falls to the ground. The illusion is destroyed, and his plans along with it. Well, he’d always been good at thinking on the fly. What could go wrong?

Valoren smiles languidly, dips his head in greeting, and says nothing.
—