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Eridan had once said about his moirail that Feferi didn't have crushes, she had targets. She'd just laughed in a delighted kind of way when he'd told her, amused.
But it was true. Feferi was the sort to relentlessly pursue whatever caught her eye, fully believing that if she wanted something, she'd eventually have it. It had always worked out that way in the past, so why shouldn't it continue to? Her lucky streak of romantic successes only buoyed her on to the next conquest, and added to her already supreme sense of personal confidence. Feferi was unstoppable.
Of course, these flings never lasted for very long. Feferi was as quick to lose interest as she was to gain it in the first place, the object of her various affections losing its shine sooner or later. Eridan had a theory, kept closely guarded to his chest, that Feferi enjoyed the hunt and the chase more than she did actually being in a quadrant. She'd deny it if he ever brought it up, and drag them into long argument about it, so he'd always just kept it to himself.
So when the princess began her quest to woo and subjugate Equius, much to his dismay, he supported her terrible decision. The blueblood would cave quickly, if not immediately, and he'd have to spend a few weeks or months listening to Feferi's smooshy testaments of love for her new beau, and then it would be over and done with. Just like every other flushed entanglement Feferi had involved herself in.
But for whatever reason Equius eluded Feferi's grasp. Eridan couldn't fathom why, since Feferi was absolutely resplendent, a paragon of troll beauty. The Queen's tyrian blood ran in her veins, which only served to make her even more desirable, both romantically and politically. But none of these things seemed to work their usual magic, leaving Feferi in a rut for the first time since they'd been wigglers.
A dissatisfied Feferi was a fearsome Feferi. She became nearly intolerable in her pining, and in her plotting, and as her long-suffering moirail Eridan had had just about enough.
He finally lost his composure about two or three months after the final battle with Fossor, when he could just no longer abide by his princess's terrible decision making skills. They'd already lingered in Skaia for far longer than originally intended, but Feferi seemed intent on staying, and he knew it had something to do with Equius.
“Would you quit moonin' after him? It makes you look like a vapid servant girl, and that kind of behavior is beneath you, Fef.” Eridan spat, shocking Feferi into dropping her spoon into the bowl of soup she'd been ignoring in favor of sighing after Equius, who was a few tables away in the Inn's dining hall.
Nepeta looked up and hissed at him, no doubt having heard what he'd said from where she was sitting across from the aforementioned blueblooded troll. Feferi didn't seem pleased either, her brows furrowed unhappily.
“I can moon as I well please,” she said snippily, fishing her spoon back out of her soup. “Especially since I don't say anything about how you sigh and make flushed-eyes at Roxy at every opportunity, but never do anything.”
Eridan frowned severely, glad that the object of his affections was not around to hear that especially slanderous bit of misinformation.
“I do too...do things,” he muttered, but then shook his head, pointing a finger at his moirail and fixing her with a stern look. “Don't change the subject, Fef.”
She giggled a little, as if to say 'you caught me', rolling her eyes and slouching back in her chair. Nepeta was still glaring at him from her table, though for the moment he ignored her, more intent on finally having this long overdue discussion with Feferi. “Obviously your...'subtle' approach isn't working,” he said, meaning to be sarcastic but knowing that he'd missed the mark when Feferi's eyes lit up.
“I bet you're right, Eri!” She bubbled, sitting up straight with excitedly wriggling earfins. “I just haven't been forward enough, or made myself clear!”
In what world smashing oneself up against another troll and shamelessly squeezing their biceps wasn't 'forward enough', Eridan didn't know. But he decided he'd humor her anyway, not wanting to dash the new shine in her eyes.
---
“I have intentions, Mister Zahhak.”
Equius fumbled the wrench he'd been holding, sighing in dismay at the new dent in its handle. Horuss would be horribly disappointed in him for being unable to control his strength, again, and doubtless Dirk would be unhappy with the waste of resources. The troll that had addressed him made an impatient clicking sound with her tongue, and so he looked up at her from behind his fringe, unwilling to meet her gaze directly.
Feferi...well, to put it bluntly, she intimidated him. The princess was a troll completely comfortable with her rank and the permissions that it afforded her, and she wielded her self-confidence and glamor like a lethal weapon that would surely stab straight through to his blood-pusher should he ever allow her to grow close enough to do so. Nepeta seemed to think that his reluctance to deal with her was ridiculous, but his precious palemate simply didn't understand the political intricacies of rebuffing the very blatant advances that Feferi had been making so far.
It wasn't that he wasn't interested. That would be the most hideous lie ever told in all of Trollkind. Equius was many shades of interested, though all of them were red. But he just couldn't wrap his mind around the idea that she was. Surely this was another one of the princess's infamous redrom games, and he didn't want to suffer through what was naturally to be the indignity of its end. But here she was, staring him down in his forge.
“Yes, Princess?” He finally managed as a kind of non-answer, aware that the longer he sat there silent underneath her gaze the more frustrated with him she'd become. Well, there was an idea – maybe if he just pretended he didn't hear her she'd eventually leave.
(It was a terrible idea. He'd tried it on Nepeta before and the result had been disastrous.)
Equius found himself with a lapful of Feferi, her arms twining around his neck. He nearly reared back off of his stool, though she somehow managed to balance them both in a display of strength that set him to sweating. With nerves, he told himself. With nerves.
The princess bared her sharp teeth at him in a smile that, while it was mischievous and fully aware of its impropriety, did not fail to charm him completely. “I have intentions. And I fully intend for you to take me to bed, because if I am to suffer one more day without having had you, I fear that I will do something terrible.”
She giggled, something somehow sweet and menacing at once, and Equius was only half-ashamed of the way he jolted to his feet, dumping Feferi to the ground in his haste to flee as far from her as possible.
---
“It didn't woooooooork!” She wailed, slumping her torso into his lap in a fit of drama. Eridan wondered briefly if she'd been spending too much time around Vriska to have been picking up her penchant for dragging out words, but was distracted by Feferi grabbing his scarf and tugging him down with it, forcing him to pay attention. “Eri, why doesn't he want me?” She whined, “They've never not wanted me!”
Eridan didn't think that was the problem, necessarily. Anyone with (working) eyes could see that Equius was shamefully in the red for his dear princess, and Terezi could probably smell it, too. “To be blunt, Fef,” he began, sighing at the way she just let her tears roll down her cheeks, unembarrassed, “I doubt that he doesn't want you.”
Feferi looked up at him, toying with the end of his scarf. “Then why doesn't he accept my advances?”
He debated being absolutely honest with her for all of two seconds before finally saying, “Probably because he's afraid of being another one of your very short flings.”
Her face heated in a bright flush, and she looked away from him, lower lip jutted out in a pout. She was oddly silent, so Eridan just watched the way her fingers plucked and folded at his scarf, the edges beginning to fray under her ministrations. It was best to just let Feferi work things out whenever she retreated in her own head like that, he'd learned. He decided to trail his fingers through some of her hair in order to pass the time, unsurprised when he found a hermit crab nested in a tangle. Ridiculous.
“He wouldn't be a fling,” Feferi finally said quietly, almost under her breath. Eridan was busy with flicking the hermit crab across the room and nearly missed it, and he would have it if weren't for the way that her hands tightened in his scarf. “He wouldn't be a fling! I...I want to be his matesprit,” she reiterated, turning tear-shimmery eyes on Eridan. It wasn't anything that he hadn't heard before, but...she seemed earnest.
Sighing heavily, he said, “Well, try telling him that then. He obviously doesn't respond well to your obvious sexual interest.”
Feferi huffed, but seemed to take the advice to heart. “But he's so muscly. I want to squeeze them.”
Well, maybe not.
---
He couldn't say that he was honestly surprised to see Feferi on his doorstep, and as he eyed her warily she seemed to be taking him in as well, oddly calm and not doing any of the things that usually made him highly uncomfortable. Feferi had a way of devouring him with her eyes that was very unsettling, but she was simply looking up at him now, a serious expression on her face.
“Can I come in, please?” She asked, though swept in not even a moment after, so it didn't really matter. The thought was there, he supposed, and it wasn't like he would have been able to refuse her. He watched Feferi make herself comfortable on his modest hand-built couch, ankles crossed and wild hair tossed behind her shoulders. She patted the cushion beside her as if she owned it, and Equius couldn't help but sit down as she bid him to.
“I'm here to apologize for my behavior yesterday,” Feferi told him, and he realized that he might actually be in some trouble.
“I've realized that I've made my intentions come off as crass and lewd, and while I do harbor a mighty concupiscent interest in you, the depth of my affections is far deeper than that.”
Yes, he was very much in trouble.
The princess reached out and took hold of his slightly damp hands, though she didn't seem to mind. Her slender ones seemed so tiny in comparison, though that meant absolutely nothing about her capability, if he'd learned anything from Nepeta. “I've come here to plead my case and ask for your forgiveness, as well as to...perhaps make a more formal request for your companionship.”
This new formal and polite Feferi was wonderful, but he wasn't fooled. He could still see the mischief dancing in her eyes, and the barely restrained grin pulling at her pretty lips. He cleared his throat, and wished desperately for a towel.
“Ah, well,” Equius said, feeling very eloquent. “If you wish -”
“Only if you wish, too,” she interjected, squeezing his hands. “That's important.”
And obvious, he felt, but maybe that was not the case. He'd been wanting some kind of reassurance that she was not interested only in his physique, and while this was perhaps the smallest step she could have taken, it was one that he could be content with for now. Homes were built block by block, with the more delicate parts coming along later. Equius could accept this foundation.
“I do,” he murmured, smiling when Feferi's face bloomed with happiness.
---
His matesprit was marvelously strong. The muscle beneath her seadweller-smooth skin rippled beautifully as she moved, a gorgeous powerhouse swathed in a ridiculous mane of hair. He'd been waking up with that hair in his mouth (and eyes, and twined around his limbs) every morning for the past four months, and while it was an annoyance, he couldn't really say that it was a displeasure.
It was a wonderful experience to watch his matesprit spar with his moirail. They were both mighty and unconquerable in their own ways, small vessels for the immense power they held. He knew that Nepeta curbed her strength, reluctant to injure her friend, but Feferi held no such compunctions, and was more than happy to have a partner that she could go all out with. She'd adopted a similar attitude with Equius, and he couldn't say that it wasn't...oddly exciting.
He'd met so very few trolls that could match his brutish strength, but then along comes Feferi, fantastic Feferi, who can sweep him up into her arms like a wriggler. He'd never managed to accidentally hurt her with a touch misjudged, something that he'd feared would prevent him from ever filling a red quadrant. (Or pale, for that matter.) She was both a relief and a testament to his wonderful luck.
There was a yowl and a shriek, and he moved quickly, absorbing the shock of Feferi's misleadingly solid body with his own, wrapping his arms around his matesprit. Nepeta cackled from the other side of the sparring grounds, obviously pleased with her throw. “Your reflexes are getting better, Equius!” She crowed, waving her arms over her head.
Feferi giggled in his arms, turning so that she could plant a kiss on his jaw. She seemed no worse for the wear despite the rough handling. “I'm never afraid when Nepeta tosses me these days,” she said quietly, for his ears only. “Because I know you'll catch me before I hit the ground.”