@pechassberry asked for an Othello AU which is a callout bc it’s my favorite play (Othello AU in……… Prospit/Derse?)

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He’s a prince, they say. A prince from a far away land where the sun shines long and gold washes up along the riverbanks like broken shells. A leader, military captain, a prince, they say. The girls in the court. Whispered behind you as he looks in their direction—your direction, too.

He’s won wars, conquered lands, lived on a fat, savory diet of adventure and victory. In Derse, however, he is so far out of his element he might as well be back in Prospit. A lost foreigner slipping over polished marble floors, chilling his fingers on the iron banister of a balcony, framed by the great gothic pillars supporting the cathedral, like a cage—

You stride forward.

“You’re a blossom striking through a dulled city wall,” you work up the steeled nerve to tell him, immediately glancing away, towards the gardens beneath both of you with their bright moonlit flowers. You hope the festival lanternlight catches on your best features and the nightly shadows mute your worst.

“I’m sorry?” he replies, sounding a little lost, and oh, you know he’s lost, he’s not supposed to be here, but he’s wandered here anyway, and that’s incredibly convenient for you.

“Fresh air,” you say.

“It is nice tonight,” he agrees.

“No,” you say, glancing back at him. Then again to coy distance and moonlit flowers. “You, prince, are the fresh air. It might look like a damn spectacle, but you’d be surprised how Derse can grow stagnant.”

“I find it quite lovely.”

You sigh and turn towards him fully. He has his gaze pinned on you. As he had before, as he will continue to do.

“I’ve heard you’re looking for a wife,” you say, more straightforward, now. He seems like a straightforward man. “Can I offer an alternative?”