It all started with a dream. Dreams were the realm where you first met Hríd, the prince of Nifl. Initially he had approached you with concerns for the safety of his homeland. After Surtr was defeated and Nifl was saved, your dreams with the prince took a different turn.
"Ah, Summoner, we meet again! There is something I have to confess..." he took a deep breath and gazed into you with his icy blue eyes. He held your hands in his own.
"You have warm hands." His words slid into your ears like a breath of cold air and a chill ran down your spine.
Flustered by his sudden advances, you managed a few words: "Okay, thanks... but what were you going to confess?"
He spoke, but in a surreal language you could never comprehend. He whispered sweet nothings into your ear and inched ever closer to your body, and his face leaned in to meet yours with a kiss.
You felt the heat of his tongue inside your mouth for a moment. A warm gentle breeze entered your lips and you ached for more, but Hríd's presence faded away. You immediately woke up aroused, confused, and in a cold sweat. Was he communicating his desires, or were you projecting your own? Ever since that fateful night, you wrote down everything you could recall from your dreams in your journal. In this journal was noted every aspect of your adventure with the Order of Heroes but from now on it became your dream diary.
Each night's dream was saucier than the last. As you gained more knowledge of the Nifl prince you couldn't help but document every detail of his perfectly sculpted body: his cool touch, his spiky hair soft like Hero feathers, his rock-hard abs, and the trail of lavender in between his six pack which led down to his forbidden fruit. No matter how many times Hríd appeared in your dreams, the contents of his bulging package eluded you.
Before you knew it, you were addicted to this man.
It was a late Monday afternoon. You and your squad just finished a fierce battle in the arena. The arenas and Aether Raids were nearing their scheduled closing time. While most of your teammates were exhausted and craving dinner, Reinhardt strutted proudly alongside you towards the castle.
"Your tactics are outstanding, Summoner. I bet you could surpass even Saias!" Reinhardt, generally a stoic man, knew how to encourage you after a rough day. In fact the dark haired mage was one of your first 5 star summons. You looked after him and taught him skills to help maximize his strengths. In turn, he was your most valuable unit who admired you a lot as a summoner and as a tactician.
On your way back, you checked inside your coat. Breidablik was safely adjusted to your belt, and in your coat pocket the single orb and bundle of feathers you won from the wager were safely stored. Everything seemed normal, but something was missing. Unfortunately, after double and triple checking, your journal where you recorded everything was nowhere to be found! Where could it possibly be? You tried not to think too much about it. Perhaps you left it in your room.
At the mess hall you sat at a table with Alfonse and Sharena. Alfonse was busy chowing down on his meal, but Sharena wanted to chat. She was excited to tell you about the pleasant time she had with her friends.
"Today I spoke with Ylgr and we made flower crowns together!" Sharena presented the floral circlets she held in her hand. They were made of daisies.
You were barely paying attention, instead you glanced across the room where Hríd sat along with his siblings. Ylgr was indeed wearing a flower crown and proudly showing it off. Fjorm was smiling and nodding along. But most importantly you observed the way Hríd's hair fluttered as he spoke. What could he be talking about? That man was as mysterious to you as you were to him.
After you finished your meal, Reinhardt approached you with his dumb, iconic grin. It was so unlike the stoic attitude you associated him with, yet it was the same expression he had while blowing his enemies away with Dire Thunder. His face was also completely flushed red. Thinking about what was making Reinhardt so giddy caused your face to form a near mortified expression.
"Here's your journal, Summoner. You dropped it during the last battle. Please remember to keep it safe next time," He gave you a wink and a nudge. The toothy smile on his face was hardly containing his laughter.
"Okay, thanks Rein," you muttered as you hastily took back the journal. Your best plan was to keep your journal in a chest only you have access to, although it was probably too late for that. One person knowing your secret was one too many, even if you trusted him to keep it safe.
Sharena noticed Reinhardt's gestures and your defensive reaction. "Oooh, what's in that journal? Do you like someone, y/n? Is it Reinhardt?"
Your face reddened further. Very few people referred to you by name. And no, you and Reinhardt were just friends! You shoved the journal into your jacket.
"Hehe, so you DO like someone! Come on, spill the deets!" the Askran princess pried further.
Disconcerted, you got up from the table as if she had not said a word. She should mind her own business anyway. Reinhardt rushed to your side as you left the mess hall. Sharena's smile turn to a saddened frown. It was rude to leave her hanging like that, but hopefully she'd understand.
"Something has been troubling you lately. What could it be?" Reinhardt asked. He put his hand to his chin in a pensive manner. He knew, but needed to confirm his intuition.
"I'd tell you, but..." you stopped yourself with a sigh. You could tell him anything, but did you really want to give context to what he probably saw? That would make things worse. "I'd rather not talk about it. It's too complicated."
"I understand. Just know Summoner that I will remain with you, no matter the circumstances." Reinhardt's words helped soothe your anxiety a little bit.
You and Reinhardt went your separate ways. It was nighttime and you were headed to your private quarters to prepare for the next day. You held your journal close, ready to take notes of the day's events. However, there was someone you did not expect to see. Hríd was waiting outside your room with a normal expression. He had a gorgeous smile which was pleasant to look at, unlike Reinhardt's calculating grin. Seeing the tall, handsome prince made your heart skip a beat.
Oh gods, oh fuck, what's he doing here? you thought to yourself. This could either end really well or really disastrously, and you were about to find out.
"Hello, Summoner! How are you doing?" the Nifl prince asked gleefully.
"I'm fine, how about you?" you responded. You clutched the journal closer to your chest hoping he wouldn't notice. Unfortunately you were looking pretty suspicious.
"I am doing quite well, thank you. I apologize if this is sudden, but may we speak privately?"
This was it. He knew about the journal. Reinhardt told him everything. How stupid of you to trust that cheeky bastard mage as your right hand! You nodded hesitantly and allowed him into your room. Maybe he didn't see anything and just wanted to talk.
"After you, my lady."
You nearly swooned as Hríd held the door open for you. Such a gentleman! In your room there were piles upon piles of books on the floor. Feathers, crests and potions were scattered about. The place was a mess except for your bed which you made every morning, and beside it the perch where Feh rested. You were fidgeting on your way inside until you you stumbled upon a couple of orbs conveniently dispersed across the floor.
"Summoner, wait!" you heard the prince shout, but it was too late.
You spread your arms out to lessen the impact of the fall and as a result dropped your belongings, including your journal which revealed several pages depicting his shredded bod. Hríd extended his hand and helped you up. His other hand sensually stroked down your back all the way down to your tailbone as you regained your balance. His touch was cool yet gentle, just like you had dreamed.
"Are you alright?" Hríd asked. He fixed his gaze onto you and was still holding your hand. His hand was so cold! But you didn't want to let go.
"Yeah," You replied, trying your best to keep a straight face. You just couldn't. A scarlet tint overcame your visage. You enjoyed peering into his glittering aqua eyes. He smiled back at you.
Of course, the prince noticed behind you your drawings of messy hair, a chiseled face, buff chest and prominent abs. There was a moment of awkward silence.
"Hmm, what's this?" He let go of your hand and approached the pile of papers that leaked from your journal.
"Please don't look-" You were shaking. If he recognized himself in those drawings, he was going to kill you. Actually, you would be very happy to die by his hands. You'd thank him if he were to draw Gjöll and decapitate you on the spot. He was more likely to do something worse, such as file a restraining order, forcing you to relinquish your position as Summoner and leave the castle for good.
"Are these... drawings of me?"
Your heart was racing, your face sweating. You were dying of embarrassment, on the verge of tears and covering your face. You were prepared for the worst. But through it all you were ready to come clean.
"These drawings... they're memories of my dreams with you." you confessed.
Another moment of awkward silence ensued while he investigated the papers. He read about your hot make-out sessions with him, your disturbingly accurate descriptions of his body, the way he breathed into you.
"Excuse me, but are you some kind of pervert?" he jeered and raised his eyebrow quizzically.
Not the response you were hoping for. His words shot like a silver bullet piercing your chest. Still, you were not going to back down.
"Yeah, so what?"
"As the prince of Nifl, I will to have to punish you for your depravity. These pages could get the both of us in trouble!" he frowned.
Was he being serious? You never saw him as the dominant type due to the pitch of his voice. But there he was, the austere prince, taking matters into his own hands.
Hríd slammed the door shut. The only light source in your room was shining through an open window. The prince's golden armor and the sword at his side glistened in the moonlight.
"Once I'm through with you I shall figure out what to do with these pages. You disgust me, y/n."
Those words stung. It stung even harder that he used your name instead of the title Summoner. You could feel the fruit of your sins shattering your heart to pieces. However, his actions did not match up. Hríd removed the hood from your head, brushed your hair back and leaned in close, his soft lips begging for a peck. You instinctively sucked and bit his lower lip teasingly. He withdrew and returned another peck on your forehead, then your lips. As the two of you exchanged kisses he carried you to your bed.
"I don't know what you're doing, but this sure doesn't feel like a punishment," you joked.
"You will find out soon enough."
Then, he unbuckled his armor and it slipped right off. A brassy noise reverberated throughout the room as his armor hit the floor, revealing his muscular physique. It was more impressive than you had dreamed. He was sculpted like a marble statue, and his nipples were decorated with shining gold rings that gleamed and hung below his areolae. A lilac trail that started between his lower abs formed a path to the massive bulge in his boxers, tastefully decorated with the Nifl emblem.
Outside you could hear your best friend mage knocking hard on the door and his muffled shouting: "Hellooooo, Summoner, is everything alright?"
What was Reinhardt doing here? Apparently that lunatic wasn't taught about privacy back in Friege.
In your closet, Hríd found a rope, used for making the Escape Ladder. He pulled it out and began tying you to the bedpost, making sure the rope didn't completely cut off the circulation in your wrists. Everything that had occurred so far was so confusing and so jarring. It almost felt like a dream, but the restraints around your wrists and ankles brought you back to reality.
"What are you doing? That rope is for Aether Raids!" Guess you were going without an escape rope for a whole week.
"This is your punishment, remember?" he replied with a sly smirk.
After tying you up, he drew his sword, Gjöll. This is it, you thought to yourself. Prince Frosty here was going to fucking kill you for your disgraceful sins. You thought about screaming for help, but the sounds would not escape your lungs. How fitting that his sword was named after the river which separated life and death. You closed your eyes waiting for the worst to happen.
With a single unflinching stroke, Hríd swung the sword down your midsection. But, you barely felt the ice of his blade gently tickling your skin. Your skin wasn't even cut, however your clothes, including your bra, were sliced in half. Such a precise move, an interesting maneuver! He said this was a punishment, so fair enough.
He had the cold look of a ravenous predator. You wonder what exactly was going on through his mind. Did he want to feel powerful over the Summoner who commanded the Heroes? Or was he going berserk after learning how badly you lusted after him?
"y/n, there is something I must confess." You felt a light sense of déjà vu when he said that.
Now vulnerable, your breasts were exposed, your legs wide apart and trembling, and your panties soaking wet. Most of all you were toeing the line between life and death. Hríd responded to your suggestive position by climbing on top of you and grinding his crotch against your heat, with only underwear acting as a barrier. His erection felt rather bumpy, as if he wore piercings down there as well. Of course, he held the sword pointed downward between your arm and your neck. The rush of adrenaline paralyzed you in fear, but damn did he look ravishing while your life was in his hands.
"I could never recall anything from my dreams, except for your presence." His breath in your face was surprisingly hot. "Every night, you plague my dreams. And when I wake up, I feel quite overwhelmed with emotions that cannot be expressed by words alone."
He moved in closer, being careful as to not let Gjöll slice your neck. His abs grazed against your stomach. You could hear his heart rapidly beat in time to yours. Suddenly, he threw his sword behind him and it struck the wall, knocking a shelf over. After all, if he killed you, he wouldn't have been able to satisfy his urges. His lips were sucking on your neck and his hands were all over you, especially massaging your breasts. They were so tender, so beautiful to look at. As he circled his finger around your nipple you let out a gasp. Then his fingers intertwined with yours. He whispered into your ear.
"Let's just say that it has gotten to the point where I can no longer control myself around you."
Finally, he pulled down his boxers. His bulge slipped through the barrier of your panties and you could feel his hot cock burying itself inside you. You felt hard, metallic bumps in pairs along the length of the shaft. Yes, he was definitely pierced, and it made penetrating you a challenge. You could have sworn his piercings got caught in your underwear a couple of times. It didn't stop him however. With his fingers, he pulled the cotton barrier downwards, making it easier to get inside. While he pounded you gently, he firmly gripped your thighs and buttocks, digging his nails into them until they left marks. The rings of his nipples shook with every thrust.
"y/n..." he breathed in your ear, "You're really tight!"
Of course it was going to be tight, your anatomy was not prepared for a metal-studded manhood. A moan was all you could muster. After he clawed your thighs you could feel his thumb press circles against your clit. The sensation of his ribbed cock penetrating while he stimulated you was divine.
Outside of the room you could faintly hear Azura's footsteps, her humming Careless Whisper to drown out your rough lovemaking, and the sound of Reinhardt disgustingly sobbing. At that moment you didn't care. All that mattered was the mutual pleasure you shared with the lover of your scintillating dreams.
You watched the prince's pupils dilate and you could feel his hot heavy breaths accelerating. His hold on you was tightening. The tip of his cock, also pierced, pounded deep inside you against your cervix. It scratched and hurt like hell but at the same time the sensation felt like heaven. Meanwhile your hands and feet were going numb.
Before you knew it you were living the sweet dream. The feelings of bliss came crashing down like ice upon you. The ice prince let out an intense moan as he melted into you and for once you both felt complete. You were molded perfectly to the size of his girth and squeezed out every last drop of his cum before he could pull out. Your core oozed with a mixture of your blood and his juices. The bleeding shocked you at first, but it was well worth the trouble.
Hríd apologized for the mess he caused before undoing the knots which restrained you to the mattress. How were you going to explain the stains to Jakob? The tattered clothes? Oh well, tough luck to that stuck-up butler. The purple-haired prince rolled over to your side and held you close, your head to his burly chest. His heartbeat was slow yet strong. Your breaths slowed down to his pace. He felt so warm, it was as if you transferred your body heat over to him. Your fingers glossed over his pierced nipples. The piercings actually suited him.
Hríd proposed an idea to you. "If you'd like, y/n, I could pierce your breasts too. Think of it as a celebration of our love."
Was he really thinking about love? Or was it just a means to control you? You had to decline for now. Nipple piercings look awfully painful. He understood, and the two of you got dressed. Hríd buckled up in his armor and you picked out the spare Summoner outfit that hung in your closet.
Reinhardt was waiting outside of your room the whole time. Seriously, what was his deal? He was slav squatting on the floor, tears in his eyes and a bottle of Renais rum in hand to drown out his sorrows. First, Ishtar broke his heart. Now, it was your turn to do so, and in doing so you snapped his stoicism in half.
Hríd, as civilized as a prince could be, was well-dressed albeit a couple of stains on his armor. You clung to his arm, still enjoying the rush of oxytocin to your bloodstream. Your appearance was disheveled and unbecoming of a Summoner, but everything felt just right. Azura, dressed in her Dark Songstress garb, greeted both you and Hríd as if nothing had happened, despite the musk of lovemaking that lingered out of your room. It must have been like two in the morning, don't these Heroes get any sleep? You hadn't even made preparations for the next day.
"I-is everything alright Summoner?" Reinhardt asked, struggling through the tears.
"Yeah, we're fine. We were just discussing tactics for tomorrow." you answered back with confidence.
The dark-haired mage called you out. "No one is buying that. Who's 'we'?" he questioned with a tone of suspicion. He got up and looked to the superior cavalry unit that stood beside you. Hríd stared back at the mage cavalry with an icy glare.
"Oof..." The mage paused, then took another sip of rum to dull the pain of his own heartbreak. He definitely stole the beverage from your stash, but now wasn't the time to argue about that. You kissed Hríd goodnight in front of the poor drunk and retreated to your quarters to ponder the events that occurred. Maybe you would dream about him again. At least Reinhardt did not interfere in your dream world affairs.