Continued, The Fangirl Project
#Fanfictions!
@mythicwitch
So…I did something
@theseboots-weremade-formoonwalking
Why do I feel like the only appropriate responses are “uh-oh” or “do you need help hiding the body?”
@mythicwitch
Haha, very funny. No it’s…a good something! A weird something? And I just feel really excited about it and want to share it with someone who’ll get it haha (which I feel like is this channel!)
@silversmithhh
OMG YOU DIDN’T?!?? PLS SAY YOU DID
@mythicwitch
I maaaay have…had a go at writing some Silversmith fanfiction (don’t judge me @ladyanissadishipper!!!)
@ladyanissadishipper
dw girl I am JUDGING. #moonsilversupremacy #iwill-godown-with-thisship
@runicrascal
What! Cerys that’s awesome! Can we read it?
@silversmithhh
SEND. US. THE. LINK.
One More Dance Before the Dawn by mythicwitch
Lady Adanna di Silver/Devon Smith, Lady Adanna di Silver, Devon Smith, Sir Grayson “the Moonwalker,” One Shot, Fluff
When Devon sees Lady di Silver dancing with the infamous knight at the masquerade ball, he can’t help but feel jealous.
Words: 461 Chapters: 1/1 Hits: 7
As the Moonwalker melted into the shadows at the edge of the ballroom, Lady di Silver let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding, and steeled herself. Finally meeting an adversary—ally—oh, whatever he was—wasn’t going to deter her from the mission at hand.
But before she could leave the dance floor, a hand took hers, and an arm slid around her waist, sweeping her back into the midst of the crowd. Adanna gasped, an indignant remark ready on her painted lips, but found she recognized the masked man before her.
She recognized him so very well indeed. She knew him in her marrow.
She knew those calloused hands which had helped lift her out of the dirt during their sword practice, she knew that scent, like leather and pine, and she knew the curve of that chin and those lips.
She had imagined the feel of them against her own, sometimes, even if she had never been bold enough to try it.
She would know her dancing partner anywhere.
“Devon,” she said, “what are you…?”
“I am dancing, my lady.” His mouth curved into a smile, one that felt like a secret he was sharing with her, and Adanna’s heart leaped. “I would have thought that was obvious.”
“I didn’t realize common soldiers were so familiar with the waltz,” she teased, and gasped when he spun her quickly, gracefully, before she was standing in the cocoon of his arms once more.
It was hardly the first time they had been close—sometimes they were even closer when sparring and training—but this felt different.
Charged, electric, like the air before a lightning storm.
He was close enough to kiss.
Adanna liked to think of herself as brave in a lot of ways, but she wasn’t sure she was brave enough to lean in and risk his rejection. Devon was so dear to her, and they had been through so much. What would she do without him?
When the song ended, he dipped her low, and she could taste the chocolate cake from the feast on his breath, sweet and intoxicating. Through his mask, his shining emerald orbs were fixed on her.
“Devon…” she breathed.
He set her back upright, his usual mask of the respectful, faithful guard slipping back into place. “We ought to—”
“No.” She caught his hand within hers. “Stay. Just one more dance?”
He took her in his arms once more. “Anything for you, my lady.”
They could not dance the entire night away, she knew that, and from the shadows of the ballroom she was sure she could feel the watchful gaze of the Moonwalker upon them.
But this dance with Devon was hers; just as she was his, until the end.