#and I had this idea to draw the knight kneeling before the princess and kissing her hand | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tinybibmpreg · 3 years ago

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a oneshot as a birthday gift for myself lol. was going to be more adult themed but then i got sidetracked by angst & lore and then a happy fluffy family resolution. so. lmao.

my temperamental prince character Gaelwin and his elf knight (future) husband, Tasnear, working out some misunderstandings and family secrets about their daughter. past/post mpreg

Blykren: Getting to Know You

Gaelwin smirked down at him, mismatched eyes blazing with some emotion Tasnear wasn’t sure he wanted to know the identity of. Gaelwin shoved him onto his bed and climbed on top of him, like a predator holding down its prey- ready to kill. Tasnear resisted the urge to throw off Gaelwin, to fight against him and escape. It wouldn’t do to hurt a prince of East Atalan. He was already in such low standing with the King, Gaelwin’s grandfather. He quite liked being allowed back in the palace, being with he and Gaelwin’s daughter. It wouldn’t do to get himself exiled again.

He’d just have to hope that Gaelwin was just being mischievous, trying to scare him, one last thrill before he went off to sleep. The prince’s siblings were quite vocal at times that that was what their brother did- terrify people. For fun or out of cruelty. He’d scare them into obedience, go into wild rages and smash everything around him, destroy their things, hurt himself in the process. But he’d never lay a hand on them unless he was grabbing them and carrying them off to what he believed was safety.

Tasnear wasn’t sure if that applied to him, seeing as he wasn’t one of Gaelwin’s siblings. He wasn’t even sure Gaelwin actually believed he really was Orwina’s mother.

Which certainly wasn’t good. Gaelwin could be downright violent towards people who he didn’t see as family, especially with his new powers. He could rip people to shreds with a wave of his hand if he wished, and he’d done so before. Having spires of ice erupt from the ground to skewer an assassin through, using wind to send projectiles of dirt and rocks to go through a man who had swore at him. Everard had told him how Gaelwin, before getting his powers, would throw and stomp on people who offended him. He always had a reason for reacting so badly, Averil insisted, even if the reason didn’t seem strong enough, or obvious enough. It wasn’t violence for violence’s sake, even if it really seemed to be.

He wasn’t sure what he had done to offend Gaelwin. Perhaps Gaelwin was finally convinced he was lying about being the one to give birth to their daughter. Perhaps he’d gotten sick of him befriending his siblings. Tasnear couldn’t think of anything he could have said to upset Gaelwin. He was always kind to his siblings, and never said a bad word about him to the children nor to anyone else. Orwina loved her father, and though Tasnear feared the man and the danger he posed to everyone around him, he would never try to change his daughter’s mind.

So Tasnear didn’t dare speak now. He just stared up at Gaelwin, bracing himself for whatever the prince might do to him. But the man did nothing- he just kept him pinned, that devilish smirk on his face.

Minutes passed and Tasnear found himself growing bored. With a different person, he might have thought that they were waiting for him to let his guard down, but Gaelwin didn’t seem the type to try that tactic. He just seemed to be thinking, rather, barely breathing or blinking, eyes losing their intensity and glossing over as time dragged on and on. Tasnear debated internally on whether or not to snap Gaelwin out of his thoughts. He opened his mouth to speak, then hesitated. Before he could make up his mind on whether or not to say anything, Gaelwin blinked rapidly and shook his head. With a huff, he pushed himself up, now only kneeling with his legs on either side of Tasnear.

“Huh. Got lost in my head for a while there.” Gaelwin rubbed his eyes, blinked a few more times, and looked down at Tasnear. Confusion flickered across his features, only to be replaced by a grin. “Hello, Sir Tasnear.”

He didn’t bother correcting Gaelwin that he wasn’t a knight anymore. “Is there something you need of me, Prince Gaelwin?”

“No, not really, Tas.”

Tasnear chewed his lip for a moment, not expecting the diminutive from Gaelwin, then asked, “Ah… Has Orwina has begun calling me that to you?”

Gaelwin placed a hand on Tasnear’s chest, fiddling with a clasp on his tunic. He nodded, then undid the clasp. He continued down the elf’s tunic, undoing all the clasps until he could expose his undershirt. Tasnear didn’t know what to think of being undressed. Was Gaelwin merely curious about his clothing? Had he just wanted to do something with his hands, like a nervous habit of picking at buttons? Gaelwin’s siblings had assured him Gaelwin had no interest in anything but keeping them safe or indulging basic curiosity and harmless impulses. Tasnear didn’t fear being taken advantage of by the prince.

“Tell me, Tas,” Gaelwin started in his questioning tone that demanded an answer no matter when or where or to whom he asked. Pale, bruised fingers drew down Tasnear’s front to stop on his belly. “Are elves as humans? Is a mother’s body marked forever by its pregnancy?”

Not at all what Tasnear expected to be asked, though if he was honest with himself, he’d had no clue what the prince was going to ask. At least it was something he could answer easily. “Yes, typically. If an Elvin mother shows during their pregnancy, they will have marks, just as a human would.”

“Tas.” The way Gaelwin said his nickname was… odd. Tasnear felt embarrassed, and he wasn’t sure why. He was fine with the nickname, had grown up being called that by family and friends and people who were familiar with him. But the way the prince said his nickname, as if in knowing it he’d indulged some great curiosity, made his ears twitch. Gaelwin’s eyes flicked to the movement and he moved a hand to Tasnear’s left ear, pinching the point of it between two of his fingers.

He swallowed at the prickles of sensitivity. His other ear twitched involuntarily, though Tasnear tried to suppress it.

Gaelwin tilted his head, his messy blond hair falling into his eyes. He finished unbuttoning Tasnear’s tunic and pulled it open, then shoved up his undershirt. Tasnear bit his lower lip, his face growing hot.

A cold hand spread out over his belly. Tasnear glanced down and saw as Gaelwin traced his thumb over the stretch marks on his abdomen. Though they’d somewhat faded over the past few years, they were plainly visible. Grinning, the prince suddenly was over him again, a wicked look in his eyes.

“Prince Gaelwin? Mmph!” Tasnear jolted as Gaelwin surged down and kissed him, their teeth slamming together painfully. His hands went up to push Gaelwin off reflexively, but he managed to stop himself and instead held onto the front of Gaelwin’s tunic, closing his eyes.

The kiss was more of a bite than a kiss, far too forceful. Tasnear wasn’t sure what to think of it at first. Surely, Gaelwin wasn’t attracted to him. His siblings made it obvious that Gaelwin would never view anyone as desirable, and Tasnear had figured that for himself through watching how Gaelwin treated people. Gaelwin only viewed people as threats or as things beneath him. He didn’t make friends, much less take lovers.

Still, the kiss was thrilling in a way. During moments in his pregnancy, he’d imagined what it would be like for the father of his child to be there with him. He’d wake up to fleeting dreams of a charming prince holding him and touching his belly, claiming him. Tasnear hadn’t tried to entertain ideas of what it’d be like if the 15th princess’ son had taken him as a lover instead of just requesting a child of his own when his mother asked him what would make him happy, but he’d been emotional and overwhelmed and couldn’t help himself.

It wasn’t the gentle embrace he’d dreamed of, but it certainly felt like he was being claimed. Being pressed into his bed, Gaelwin biting him as if he were trying to devour him…

Definitely not what he’d imagined while he was pregnant, but still something he, surprisingly, would have and did enjoy.

Tasnear’s hands moved from clinging to Gaelwin’s tunic to wrapping around him, one hand going to holding the back of his head. Gaelwin dipped his head down to bite his neck and Tasnear’s fingers tightened in his hair, which only made him bite harder until it drew a whimper from Tasnear as he felt the prince’s teeth slice through his skin and draw blood. Gaelwin hummed and lapped at the blood. When he pulled up, leaving Tasnear catching his breath beneath him, his teeth were stained red. He ran his tongue over them.

“G-Gaelwin…”

“Hm. I believe you.”

Tasnear furrowed his brow in confusion. “What?”

“I said I believe you, Tas,” Gaelwin repeated, shrugging. “I didn’t before. But now I do.”

“Ah… about…?”

“About what you said. About Orwina.” Gaelwin rolled his eyes as if Tasnear was being ridiculous. “My mother never told me where she came from, just that by using magic, she was mine. So I guess your whole story about a knight telling your family your exile would be lifted if one of you did a favor for the son of a fifteenth princess wasn’t made up, and you really did carry and give birth to my daughter for me.”

“Oh. I’m- I’m glad.”

“Sorry my mother lied to you. She did that sometimes to make things easier for me.”

“It’s… alright. I’m very fond of Orwina. I’m glad I’m her mother.”

Gaelwin climbed off of him and sat on the edge of the bed. He looked over his shoulder at Tasnear, an impatient look on his face. Tasnear scrambled up and perched next to him, pulling down his shirt and starting to button up his tunic.

Before he could get too far, Gaelwin made an unhappy sound and reached to yank his shirt back up. “Hey, I still want to look at you. Do the marks go on your sides? Is there anything else?”

He felt his ears go hot and start twitching again, which he didn’t bother trying to suppress. He was too flustered. Gaelwin raised a hand to one and pinched it again.

“Why are your ears moving so much?”

“They do that when I’m…”

“When what, Tas? When you’re aroused or embarrassed?” Gaelwin asked, twisting Tasnear’s ear curiously. Tasnear’s whole face felt hot hearing Gaelwin ask if he was aroused. Not something he’d ever expected from the prince. Seeing his face go red, Gaelwin tugged on his ear and huffed, asking, “Are you going to answer anything?”

“S-sorry. I’m just… just flustered. I’m not used to- to any of this.”

“Neither am I. So your ears twitch when you’re flustered?”

Tasnear nodded slightly. “Yes. Elves’ ears can also twitch when they’re angry or upset or- or aroused. Any strong or sudden emotion, really. Joy or surprise, as well… As adults, we try to suppress the twitching. If we hear something in the distance, sometimes, as well.”

“And my other questions?”

“It would be easier to… to show you, I suppose.” At that, Gaelwin raised an eyebrow and sat back, waiting. Tasnear couldn’t believe he’d offered that, but pulled off his tunic and shirt, setting them aside. He looked down, refusing to meet Gaelwin’s eyes.

Gaelwin put both hands on his abdomen, leaning in close. “Wow. You’ve got a lot of stretch marks.”

“They were quite red, during the pregnancy… I used salves to try and help, but it didn’t do much…”

“Did they hurt?” Gaelwin picked at a larger one with his nail.

“They itched. The salves helped with that, at least.”

He brought his hands up to Tasnear’s chest and traced the lines on the underside of his breasts. “Oh. You’ve got some here as well.”

“Mm, yes. My chest developed a bit during the pregnancy as well…” His chest was still somewhat soft. “I used to be quite flat-chested.”

Gaelwin tilted his head. “Hm. A bit redundant, since you didn’t get to keep Orwina very long after she was born.”

“Excuse me?” Did Gaelwin think he’d gotten to be a mother to Orwina when she was a baby? That couldn’t have been right.

But Gaelwin ignored him. “I know my mother lied to you about the reward you’d get, but it’s still quite surprising to me that anyone would agree to have a baby knowing that it would eventually go to a different realm entirely. For all you knew, you’d never get to see her again.”

“But I never got to see her.”

Gaelwin sat up, confused. He stared at Tasnear, searching his face. Finally, he asked, “What do you mean? Didn’t you give her to someone acting on behalf of my mother after she was born?”

“You… you couldn’t tell how old she was when you first got her?”

“I wasn’t allowed to see her for three months after my mother received her.”

That was mind-boggling to Tasnear. Aghast, he asked, “Your mother didn’t let you see your own daughter until she was three months old?”

Gaelwin shrugged. “She never let me near my siblings when they were babies. She didn’t trust me.” Tasnear couldn’t help but give Gaelwin a horrified expression. Gaelwin waved it off and explained, “I don’t blame her. My mother loved me, she really did, but I was dangerous. Once my siblings were weaned my mother would help me hold them, and once Orwina could walk I was allowed to hold and play with her with my mother or father watching.”

“You didn’t get to hold your own daughter until she was old enough to walk? Prince Gaelwin…”

“Is that… bad? I didn’t really like that Everard and Averil and Eberlein got to spend more time with her before I was allowed to, but once she was old enough I would always hold her and carry her around. She really loved riding on my shoulders when she was a toddler. I should ask her tomorrow if she still likes that, in case she’s just been too busy to remember to ask.”

Something about the story didn’t seem right. “Why couldn’t you spend time with Orwina for so long?”

“Oh, because there was… an accident, with Averil. I was left alone with my siblings for a while, and my guardian took Eberlein away to change him or feed him. Everard and Averil were only about three… We were playing a chasing and hiding game in the library, and then I fell into a bookcase. Everard will swear now that I did on purpose, but I didn’t, and it landed on Averil’s leg.”

Gaelwin’s sister was missing half of one of her legs and walked with a crutch and prosthetic. Tasnear had a bad feeling about where the story was going.

Continuing, Gaelwin told him, “My father’s library was very old, and that bookcase was very tall, top-heavy, and crumbling at the bottom, and I fell very hard against it. I couldn’t get it off of Averil and she wouldn’t stop screaming and there was all sorts of blood, and my guardian wasn’t much help when we tried to lift it off of her. So I grabbed one of my father’s swords and cut off her leg to free her. It was mostly severed anyway. The doctors said it would have been removed eventually. But… my mother believed Everard.”

“So you weren’t allowed to spend time with Orwina until she was older.”

“As I said, my mother didn’t trust me.”

Then why did she trick me into bearing you a child to make you happy if she thought you were so dangerous? She could have lied and said it was impossible and you would have shrugged it off and thought of something else to wish for. It makes no sense, Tasnear thought but didn’t dare voice. Gaelwin seemed to be agitated by the story, even if he spoke of his mother’s distrust casually. Gaelwin and his siblings’ conflicting stories about their parents bothered Tasnear.

At least now he understood why Gaelwin was so misinformed about the real age Orwina had gone to live in the other realm with her father and grandmother.

He almost didn’t want to bring it up anymore.

But the prince brought it up anyways, “So what did you mean by you never getting to see her before we got off track?”

He swallowed, nervous about telling the story. It had been so upsetting when it happened, the depth of deception and the omission of details when he had agreed to carry a prince’s child to restore his family name. Gaelwin grabbed his hand, squeezing it to coax him into speaking. After taking a deep breath, he started, “After my family was disgraced and exiled, we didn’t think there would ever be a chance for one of us to restore our family name and reverse the king’s decision, not even after my father’s death. But one day a knight from the royal guard showed up at my family’s door and announced that the fifteenth princess, the daughter of the King who my father had betrayed, was willing to take away our disgrace if we did a favor for her and her eldest son. I accepted, even though my family begged me not to, afraid that the favor would be too great or impossible since my father’s betrayal had been unforgivable to King Ataria Erwyn.”

“You didn’t know what the favor was?”

“No. The knight took me to see a few of the royal mages, who told me that the fifteenth princess, your mother, wanted to choose someone to be the mother of her son’s child. I could have backed out, but I thought it was a blessing. All I had to do was bear a prince’s child, and my family name would be restored, I could return to my position in the palace as an honor guard. I even asked if I could do that, once the child was old enough for me to return to full-time service in the guard. They simply said I would be rewarded as your mother had promised.”

Gaelwin seemed to get where the story was going, nodding. “So you thought that you would become a consort for a prince, essentially. That by being a mother, you would be bearing and raising a royal child.”

“That’s exactly what I thought. The spell took a few days to perform, and then it took a week before the mages could test and see that I was with child. After they confirmed it, I thought they would take me to see the prince in the palace, so I asked if I could be with my family for a while instead, and they told me they’d intended to bring me back to my family anyway, that I’d stay with them until I gave birth.” He took another deep breath. “The pregnancy went by fine. Any difficulties I had, the mages provided remedies for. They checked on me frequently. My family and I prepared for the birth, prepared for the baby… we thought that the baby and I would remain at the family home for a few months until the baby was strong enough and I had recovered enough to make the journey to the palace.”

Gaelwin scoffed. “I can’t believe they let you think that. It just seems cruel.”

“...It was,” Tasnear said softly.

The prince moved closer to him until they were sitting pressed together. Gaelwin wrapped an arm around him and leaned his head against his shoulder.

Taking that as an invitation to continue, Tasnear did. “Things seemed alright when I went into labor. The mages were alerted and they stayed largely out of the way as my family helped me. Elvin children are born earlier and at a smaller size than human infants, and Orwina took after you. It took a while… but when I was pushing, the mages…” He stopped, biting his lip.

As he waited for Tasnear to finish telling him what had happened, Gaelwin took his hand again and played with his fingers.

“Um, they forced my family to leave and barred the entrances to the room with magic. As I finally gave birth to Orwina, they readied a spell. When she was born, one of them caught her and told the others that she was a girl and they cut the cord and covered her up and- and another two held me down and they used a spell to vanish with her. I never got to see her, I barely heard her cry… I first saw her when she and your siblings arrived in the forest of this realm, but I wasn’t really sure if it was just wishful thinking for a while until Everard started telling me about your letters from your mother…”

“I don’t know what I’d do if someone took away Orwina or one of my siblings from me.”

Seeing as how Gaelwin had tried to destroy the kingdom when he’d gotten separated from them upon first arriving in their realm, Tasnear had a pretty good idea of what the prince would do. “My family tried to help me forget about it. We weren’t even sure if she was alive, or who her father really was.”

“Not a prince, that’s for sure. At least not until we showed up here.” Gaelwin sighed heavily and flopped backward, Tasnear’s hand still in his. “Goodness. Those were upsetting stories.”

Tasnear wiped his eyes, finding that he’d teared up a bit while telling the story. He took another deep breath, trying to calm himself down. He didn’t have to be so upset anymore. Orwina was alive and well, very happy in her new life in the palace with her family. Tasnear got to see her every day, as the children’s unofficial guard. He couldn’t be a parent to her, but it was enough, knowing she was safe, seeing that she was happy and well cared for.

Even though Gaelwin was dangerous, Tasnear didn’t believe he’d ever hurt their daughter.

He laid down next to Gaelwin. The prince lifted his hand to inspect it as he fiddled around with his fingers.

“Are your nails naturally this color? Orwina doesn’t have black nails.”

“Yes. Elves have dark nails. Black nails are a trademark of my family… Usually, anyway. I guess hybrids don’t inherit that.”

“They’re nice. I like them better than mine.” Gaelwin’s nails were short and chewed on, bruised and scabbed underneath. “I wonder if we had another baby if she would have black nails.”

Prince Gaelwin was full of surprises. Any lingering upset over bad memories was quickly overtaken by shock. Tasnear turned to stare at him, eyes wide.

Seeing his expression, Gaelwin looked confused once more. “What?”

“What?” Tasnear repeated. “Is that- is that something you’ve thought about, Prince? Having another child?”

“No! I didn’t even believe that you were Orwina’s mother until I saw your body.”

“But- but you said she.”

“I just figured if we had another it’d probably be a girl since Orwina is. And I don’t know, I think another daughter would be nice. I mean, I’d be just as happy if it was a boy, but I’d prefer a girl. Not that I’d be upset at all if it was a boy.”

“Are you… trying to convince me?”

“I don’t know. Do you think you could be convinced?”

Tasnear wondered how it could have gone from him thinking that the prince was going to attack him to now, with Gaelwin possibly asking for a baby. It was due to this whirlwind that he found himself saying, “I- I suppose I could be.” Upon realizing what he’d just said, he quickly added, “But- but we barely know each other, Prince Gaelwin! Now I’d prefer to know the father of my child better. I’d rather… have a relationship with that person.”

“Well, we can’t get married,” Gaelwin said plainly.

“I didn’t-!” Tasnear felt flustered all over again. “That’s not what I meant, Prince Gaelwin. Um, why not, though…?”

Gaelwin gave him an exasperated look. “Tas, I’m married.”

“What?” The prince’s siblings had never mentioned that.

“You know that. To Queen Fractura?”

“Oh. Is that marriage actually binding, still…?” Tasnear felt relieved, for some reason. Gaelwin had been tricked into marrying a queen in order to receive his powers, and she’d tried to use him to destroy the kingdom of East Atalan, where his grandfather ruled. Thanks to his siblings and Tasnear, that hadn’t happened. He’d figured that with the evil queen in a dungeon somewhere that Gaelwin’s marriage to her would have been nullified or that the King would have insisted on a divorce.

Gaelwin nodded solemnly. “Yes. We’re still husband and wife.”

“You’re not seeking a divorce, Prince Gaelwin?”

“No. I don’t have any reason to.”

Tasnear could think of a handful of reasons off the top of his head, namely that the queen had tried to kill Gaelwin once he’d seen past her deception, and that she’d tried to use him to destroy a whole kingdom.

He kept quiet about that, though. Instead, he clarified, “I just meant getting to know each other better, Prince. Becoming friends, spending time together… building a measure of trust.”

“I trust you not to hurt my siblings if I’m not around.”

“And- and I trust you, not to purposefully harm me nor our daughter,” he told Gaelwin, finding that he was telling the truth.

The prince was quiet for a moment, and then asked him, “Do you want to go check on Orwina? All this… I wouldn’t mind making sure she’s tucked in.”

“I’d like that.”

Both of them got up and Tasnear pulled his shirts back on. He followed Gaelwin through the palace to the royal family’s living quarters. Gaelwin let him into a decent-sized room with a large bed- his own room. Then, the prince brought him through another door into another living space connected to his bedroom, where two smaller bedrooms branched off. In one room Tasnear saw Gaelwin’s brother and sister Everard and Averil on their beds, who eyed the both of them warily. In the shared space, Gaelwin’s youngest sibling, his brother Eberlein, was laying on his stomach on the floor, writing on a few pieces of paper, with an open book beside him. And in the other small bedroom, there was an empty bed that belonged to Eberlein, and another where Orwina was sitting and looking at a book, her blanket and pillows all shoved aside.

“Hello, Gael,” Eberlein greeted, not looking up from his writing. “Hi, Tasnear.”

Tasnear returned the greeting quietly. “Hello, Prince Eber.”

“Studying, dear Eberlein?”

“Mhmm. My tutor wants me to learn more about war history, so I’m writing down all the interesting battles I want to hear more about or anything that I want explained.”

“Good boy. Don’t stay up too late. That goes for you two as well, Everard, Averil.”

Everard scoffed, but his twin shyly replied, “Yes, brother. We were just talking.”

“Anything interesting?”

“We were waiting for you to get back and wondered what was keeping you, that’s all,” the girl admitted. “Eber went looking for you, but a guard told him you were in Tasnear’s room, so he came back.”

“We were worried about Tasnear,” Everard added, narrowing his eyes. “I guess we didn’t have to be. He looks fine.”

Suddenly aware that he was likely covered in bite marks and bruises around his lips and neck, his hair and clothes probably ruffled. Tasnear felt humiliated.

Gaelwin, who had no such marks and permanently ruffled hair, wasn’t ashamed. “Of course you didn’t have to be. You knew all along he was telling the truth. I was just making sure of it, and he was!”

“Oh!” Averil clapped her hands together. “I- I’m so glad, Tas! Now Gael doesn’t have to worry about you being our friend. Eve and I were worried he wouldn’t ever believe you.”

“Y… yes, there’s no need for anyone to worry, now.”

“Are y-you going to bed now, Gael?” Averil asked. “We’ll help shut off the lights.”

“Just a moment. Poppet, are you still awake as well?” Gaelwin stepped into Orwina’s bedroom, Tasnear close behind. “Oh! You’re reading?”

“Gael!” Orwina sat up in excitement. “And Tas!” She slid off of the bed and ran up to Gaelwin, hugging his legs.

“Hey, ‘pet.”

“Eber said you two were spending time with each other! Does that mean you’re friends now? I hope so!” Tasnear couldn’t help but smile at how earnest the little girl was. She looked thrilled at the idea of them being friends.

Gaelwin lifted her up. “I don’t hate him anymore.”

Orwina beamed. She turned to Tasnear and told him, “You’re friends with Gael! If he doesn’t hate you then he really likes you!”

Even a seven-year-old could tell Gaelwin was very difficult. “Oh? I’m glad…”

“I’m happy! Gael, are you happy?”

Gaelwin pressed his forehead against hers. “I’m happy to see you.”

She giggled and hugged his neck. “I’m happy to see you too!”

All of the bad feelings from before melted away seeing his daughter so happy with her father. Tasnear was so grateful that Orwina was such a happy child, always overjoyed to see her family and friends. Even if he could only be a friend to her, he was thankful.

“Tas and I wanted to come to say goodnight to you.”

Orwina’s eyes widened. “You called him Tas!” She looked back at Tasnear. “That means Gael really likes you a lot!”

“Do you want a hug from Tas, Poppet?”

The surprise on her face would have been comical if Tasnear wasn’t sure that his own expression mirrored hers. Glancing out of the bedroom door, he could see equally shocked faces on Gaelwin’s three siblings.

Prince Gaelwin didn’t let anyone else but his siblings touch his daughter.

Orwina reached out for him, the dull points of her ears twitching with excitement. He took her in his arms and she squeezed him tightly, making a happy noise against where she buried her face against him. Tasnear hugged her tight as well, relishing getting to hold his daughter for the very first time. He closed his eyes, feeling tears welling up, and tried to burn the memory into his mind so he wouldn’t ever forget it, so it would make up for the past seven years, for the grief he’d gone through when she’d been taken away as a baby.

“Poppet, do you want to sleep in my bed with Tas and me tonight? We both had a bad day…”

She popped up, ending the hug sooner than he wanted. “Yeah!” she answered, and Tasnear was glad that Gaelwin wasn’t immediately taking her back, instead just reaching to pet her hair as the elf held her. “Oh! If you had a bad day, can I read to you both before bed? Gael, my book-”

“I got it, ‘pet.” Gaelwin grabbed the book. “Let’s get to bed. Goodnight, everyone.”

A trio of goodnights, two confused, one normal, followed them. Tasnear felt a bit too embarrassed to look back at the twins, sure that they were feeling rather odd at knowing someone would be sharing their brother’s bed. But that embarrassment was just in the background. Being able to carry his daughter in his arms, feel how she settled against him, a weight that belonged there- that joy shone above everything else.

He couldn’t wait to write to his family and tell them that at last, he’d found his daughter. Something he’d been keeping from them in fear that he’d never get to be close to Orwina and would eventually be sent back home, returning to exile.

After setting Orwina down in Gaelwin’s bed, he took off his boots and tunic and set them on a chair. Orwina directed him to take the left side of the bed, as Gaelwin always slept on the right where there was an abundance of pillows. The prince went into his bathroom and came out in sleeping clothes, then climbed into his nest of pillows and handed Orwina her book. She flipped to the front of it and started to read.

A few pages in, Tasnear realized that Gaelwin was staring at him. He bit his lower lip, glancing at Orwina’s book to try not to think about it.

Midway through, Orwina was yawning and Gaelwin was still staring. After a few more pages, the book flopped over with a soft thud as their daughter fell asleep. Tasnear carefully picked up the book and set it on the nightstand. He tucked Orwina in, and Gaelwin turned out the lights with a wave of his hand, a breeze going around and blowing out all the lanterns. The two of them settled down, Gaelwin’s cold stare returning.

Somehow, Tasnear managed to fall asleep despite it. And when he woke up in the morning, Orwina had sprawled out with half her body on his chest and arm, and Gaelwin was awake, bags under his eyes, watching.

“Ha. I told you Gael would stay up all night.” Everard’s voice startled the both of them, the boy standing at the end of the bed with a tray of food in his hand. Tasnear kept himself from jumping, not wanting to wake up Orwina. Gaelwin hissed and glared at his brother.

Averil gave them both an apologetic look. “Oh, Gael. We told you Tasnear is safe. Why’d you let him stay here all night if you were worried?”

“It’s called trust-building. He slept all night and didn’t do anything to Orwina, so he passed a test. Ugh… Now I’m going to bed.” Gaelwin turned over and buried his face in his mound of pillows. He grumbled until his breathing slowed and he fell asleep quickly.

Everard rolled his eyes. “We brought breakfast. Avie’s got a kettle and we’re going to make some tea in our common room.”

“You’re welcome to join us once you’re free.”

“Free?” Tasnear echoed.

“Orwina has you trapped. You’re stuck under her for a while.”

“We can just wake her up.”

Averil laughed a little. “Okay. If you think you can bring yourself to. Only her tutor is stronghearted enough to wake her, and Eve asked her not to come since you’re here.”

“Yes. In bed with our brother, bruised up. That kind of gossip will spread, and Gaelwin doesn’t like rumors.”

“S-sorry. I’ll cover up before I go.”

As nice as it was to have his daughter sound asleep on top of him, sometimes embarrassment could win out. The twins snickered as his face reddened and walked to their living room, leaving him trapped under Orwina and keenly aware of how the bruises on his face and neck were aching.

In his letter to his family, he would definitely have to leave some things out.

#mpreg #past mpreg #just a warning this story has a brief mention where tasnear is worried gaelwin will attack or assault him but very quickly he realizes #that he wont lol. and also mentions a past child injury (princess avie is fine now) and a baby being taken away (orwina is now back with Tas #original story #oblio's fics #Gaelwin 'Gael' Blykren #Tasnear 'Tas' Lyreale #Everard 'Eve' Blykren #averil 'avie' blykren #Eberlein 'Eber' Blykren #Orwina Blykren #Blykren - story tag

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kaycode1999 · 4 years ago

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So I looked up the age difference between Poppy and Branch and apparently they are 3 years apart so it inspired me to come up with these scenarios

After poppy’s birth (hatching?)

The whole village is gathered at the base of the troll tree to see the new princess , and branch and his grandma were at the front of the crowd. Upon seeing the young troll the queen, poppy’s mother, smiles walking over. She hugs branch’s grandma before bending down to branch’s level.

The queen: would you like to come and meet the princess?

Young branch nods eagerly with a big smile, and the queen takes branch’s hand and walks with him up to where baby poppy is in her cradle. Branch lets go of the queens hand putting both of his hands on the side of cradle. Poppy lets out a giggle

Young Branch: aww

He turns to the king and queen, “she’s so cute” he smiles. They smile, “ would you like to hold her?” The queen asks

Young branch smiles nodding, the queen takes poppy out of the cradle and places her in branch’s arms. For the rest of the night everyone celebrated their new princess. The next day was trollstice, the trollstice that took poppy’s mom.

The trolls escaped Bergen town when poppy was two years old, so for the duration of that time king peppy relied on branch’s grandma to take care of poppy when he needed to tend to his duties as king. Branch’s grandma was a well known care taken in the village so it would only make sense he would choose her.

* On a day when branch’s grandma was watching poppy*

Branch was laying on the floor of their pod drawing when poppy tottled over to him just as everyone’s hug time bracelets went off.

“ Banch”, poppy yelled jumping on him to give him a hug. Causing both of them to laugh

Another day when poppy is over-

The two are playing when suddenly branch has an idea. “ hey poppy?” He asks “ you know what we could play?”. “What?” She says eagerly. “ princess and the knight, you’re already a princess so I’ll be the knight .... SIR BRANCH ” he laughs at his own game name. “ yay” poppy yells jumping from the couch into his arms knocking them both to the ground laughing. “ come princess poppy let us go make the costumes” Branch says in a fake fancy voice, giving her a piggy back ride while running to get the supplies. Once the costumes are made Branch sets poppy on the couch again kneeling down while stands almost at attention , “ alright princess poppy, as your knight I promise to always protect you” he says. Poppy giggles and then uses the fake sword to knight him. “ now go get the bad guys” she yells, and Branch runs off doing a battle yell.

* the day chief took branch’s grandma*

The Bergen had just taken branch’s grandma when he heard someone singing, but not just anyone- poppy. Poppy had just walked into the clearing where branch and his grandma’s pod was. Branch quickly picked the princess up and ran to hide in the bushes in case the Bergen came back. Poppy giggled, thinking it was just a game. Branch put poppy down,

“ poppy, shh. There’s a Bergen around here”. “ quiet, yay!!!!” Poppy yelled loudly, branch quickly put a hand over her mouth to silence her.

“ quiet means no noise” branch says deadpanning, he moves his hand away to see a very annoyed looking poppy.

Branch sighs looking back towards where his house used to be, “ ok, well I guess we’d better get you back to the village ” he says taking poppy’s hand. After a little walking, poppy turned to branch , poking his arm as if to inspect it. Branch pulls his arm away rubbing where she touched it. She gives him a questioning look

“ yeah, I lost my colors.... I know” he says irritated, “ why?” Poppy asks. “ I don’t want to talk about it” he says growing more irritated, “ why?” Poppy asks again. “ because I don’t want to!” He says loudly, poppy starts backing away from him with tears in her eyes. Branch sighs walking toward her, “ poppy, I’m sorry” he says before she runs off. “ wait , POPPY!” He yells running after her. He runs into the next clearing of the forest looking around for her but doesn’t see her anywhere. He has a moment of panic when he hears his hug time watch go off. He takes another look around spotting a light inside a log just a few feet away. “ poppy?” He says quietly walking over to the log. He knocks on it, “ poppy, I’m sorry I yelled... please come out?” Branch says. He hears a small voice, “ no! Banch meanie”. “ I’m sorry ok? What can I do to get you to come out?” He says. “ song?” Poppy says with a hopeful tone in her voice. He groans for a second * of course she would pick that* “ I- I can’t sing, what about something else?” Branch says. “ NO!, SONG” poppy says. For a moment Branch tries to muster up the courage to sing, but then he has a flashback to his grandma being carried off by the Bergen. His body starts shaking and tears start to fall down his cheeks. He quickly becomes so engrossed in his grief that he doesn’t notice the tiny pink head poking out of the side of the log. Suddenly he feels two small arms wrap around him. “ whaa” he says snapping out of his trance. He pats her on the back giving her a sad smile. He wipes the tears away taking a few breaths to calm down. “ alright, let’s get back to getting you home” he says trying to get up but poppy climbs onto his lap falling quickly asleep. Branch facepalms before residing himself to carrying her all the way back to the village. Once he gets to the village everyone stares at him unspeaking. He walks up to the kings pod and uses his hair to knock on the door. King peppy opens the door, his eyes immediately landing on the little grey troll. “ who... Branch?” He says confused, kneeling down to branch’s level and taking poppy into one arm while keeping a hand on branch’s shoulder. “ what happened?............... why are you grey?, where is...”. Branch looks down and off to the side, “ She’s gone” he says sadly. King peppy nods solemnly, “ I’m sorry about your grandma, but you’re not alone you know? We will all take care of you”. Branch shakes his head sadly backing away a little. “ well.... I suppose if you a set on being alone, I should thank you for bringing my poppy home safe. And if you need anything we are all here for you” king peppy says, Branch nods for a moment before running off.

-A month later-

Branch is out in the forest getting supplies for his bunker when he hears laughing. He pokes his head out to see where it was coming from. Noticing a few troll children having fun and poppy among them. He turns back ready to head back to the bunker when he hears footsteps following behind him, “ branch” poppy squeals in delight hugging him. He quickly pushes her off. “ hello poppy” he says continuing to the bunker with her close behind. “ where we going?” She asks happily, “ IM heading home, YOU should head back to the village” he says grumpily. He thinks she’s gone so he doesn’t bother looking back until he gets to the bunker. “ whaa, poppy! I said go back to the village!” He says irritated. She giggles “ ok” , and gives him a big hug which he struggles against. “ here” she says putting something into his hand and running off to the edge of the clearing in front of the bunker, “ oh, and this” she says running back and placing a kiss on his cheek. Branch stands there for a moment watching her run off while he holds a hand to wear she kissed him. He shakes his head to snap himself out of it and then looks down to see what she had given him. It was a specially made piece of paper that said “ you are invited to a sleep over”

By the way if anyone feels the need to draw these scenarios I would absolutely love to see it. Thank you to everyone who read this

#broppy #trolls #trolls movie #trolls world tour #branch #queen poppy #trolls the beat goes on #trolls trollstopia

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hvitserkmarcosource · 5 years ago

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The Arrangement

Chapter Eight - Lioness

Warnings: Angst in the beginning, Fluff at the end (Warnings will be updated with each chapter, so make sure you read them!)

Chapter Eight Summary: Hvitserk makes a life changing promise.

Word count: 2,314

Thank you for all of your love and support 🥰

Chapter Seven

Chapter Nine - Coming Soon

................................................

The castle lay like an old man on the hill, the sunlight shone on his, once beautiful, cracked face. Moss clung in the shade of the ancient walls like a scraggly beard. The once proud turrets had crumbled in places giving the impression of battle worn armour. The only part of the castle that was well kept are his doors, still the richest of reds, like a fresh wound seeping blood.

Hvitserk laughs from behind you “Now I understand the red cloak”

You smile and turn to look at him. “It was my Mother’s favorite, Father honored her by making it the Kingdom's color.”

“That is romantic” he observes “What is your favorite?”

You shake your head “I’m not sure, no one has ever asked me”

His arms wrap around you “Then I will keep asking until you choose one”

Your heart starts to race and a pink tint graces your cheeks. Hvitserk can be quite charming when he wants to be. And in this moment you decide that he will inevitably be the death of you.

As the boat draws near your fathers men draw their bows and swords, no doubt thinking you a threat. Until one of them spots you and yells for the rest to let the boat pass.

“Remind me the next time we raid England to wear red-“

You playfully nudge his shoulder, cutting off his sentence.

“What?!” He says in self defense “they just let us through, it’s so much easier than fighting in the water and much less wet.”

“But now you have me, there is no need to raid England when it is half yours. Why would you steal from your own Kingdom?” The question was rhetorical, but you can tell it made him think. Marrying the princess must not have sunken in yet.

If something were to ever happen to your father Hvitserk would be made King and you Queen, your children would be the heirs of this great Kingdom. Your bloodline would rule for a lifetime and never have to raid or plunder another place ever again. War will be over between Scandanivia and England, there will finally be peace.

“The King awaits you Princess, he is in the throne room.” A knight you do not recognize reaches out his hand and helps you off of the boat. “The Pagans will have to remain outside of the walls. Per the King’s wishes”

Hvitserk begins to follow you off of the boat, but the Knight stops him “All of the Pagans must remain outside of the walls.”

You scoff “This is my future husband, Prince Hvitserk, he will not wait outside.”

The Knight looks at you and says timidly “M’lady the King gave strict orders. Only you are allowed inside of the Castle.”

Hvitserk begins to reach for his sword but you stop him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I will speak to my father, he is a difficult man but he will listen to me… you won’t have to wait for long.”

Hvitserk groans in frustration “I don’t like you going in there by yourself”

You smile “This is my home, I will be alright. Please don’t start a war while I’m gone.”

He nods “If you aren’t back by nightfall I will come in after you.”

An ounce of bravery floods through your veins and you do something you wouldn’t normally do, standing on your tiptoes you lean in and kiss his cheek ”It's a deal. I will see you soon.”

When you pull away there is a smirk on his face and you blush, perhaps you’ve made a tiny mistake…

................................................

The king stumbled from his throne and collapsed in front of you, gripping the bottom of your cloak so tight it felt as if it might tear in two. He was a wreck, tears streaming down his wrinkled face. The crown on top of his head tilted and unpolished. No one was allowed in the room with you, not even his counsel. The two of you were alone and now you understand why. Your father didn’t want anyone to see him fall apart.

You kneel with him and take his hand in yours, for the first time you realize just how old he truly is. Frail. “What is it father? Why are you feeling so much sorrow?”

He sniffles and looks up at you “I’ve lost it… all the gold, the stones, your mother's rubies. All of it is gone!”

Your heart drops and you begin to panic “What do you mean you lost it? How could you lose that much, we need it for our people” you drop his hands forcefully and stand up. After everything he’s put you through and he just loses it? You can’t believe it.

He sobs harder “My child we must find a solution-“

“This was the solution! I was the solution! Or do you not remember selling me to the highest bidder!?”

He does not say anything at your outburst, so you continue.

“Do you have any idea what I've had to go through?! What I’ve done! All because you were greedy and selfish! Now you’re telling me you’ve lost it, how? HOW DO YOU LOSE ALL OF THAT!?”

Your father looks up at you, tears in his eyes, and mouth agape.

“Explain yourself father before I walk out of this castle and tell Hvitserk what is happening, I am sure King Ivar would not like that you’ve lost all of his gold so quickly.” You seethe. Disgusted at the man before you and his stupidity.

He clears his throat and stands, taking a deep breath before he says “A dragon egg”

You can’t believe your ears, how could anyone believe what he just said. “A dragon egg?” you repeat

“A man came to me and offered three of them for a price. At first I thought him mad, and then I saw them. My girl, they were giant and colorful. The colors of precious stones, but even more beautiful.. I held them in my arms and could not stop thinking about them. I was hypnotized.”

Scoffing, you sit down on his throne and gesture for him to continue. Your mind so full of worry you aren’t sure if your legs or voice will continue to support you.

“I gave him everything… all of it, every cent, gem, and stone. I needed those dragons- we needed them, the kingdom-“

“WHAT THE KINGDOM NEEDS IS A RULER WHO DOESN'T SPEND THEIR GOLD ON FAIRY TALES!!” You take a deep breath, trying desperately to calm down. He’s still your father after all. “What the Kingdom needs is protection from people like Ivar Lothbrok and now you’ve taken that away from them. You’ve striped them of any security. How could you do that, when they have supported you through everything?”

He looks at you, confusion scanning his face. And then you’ve realized you’ve made a mistake. You spoke about Ivar.

“I may belong to Hvitserk but Ivar is ruthless. He does not care about his brother or me and will come for our Kingdom the first chance he gets. You’ve just given him a reason to come sooner.”

“There is no reason to start a war with me, Ivar and I got along quite well when we were discussing you.”

you laugh “Yes, Ivar was kind to me as well in the beginning. But it was only a show, believe me when I tell you all the stories about Ivar Lothbrok are true.”

A chill runs through the air, goose flesh creeps up on your arms, and the hair at the back of your neck stands on end. Suddenly you feel like you’re being watched. “I will speak with Hvitserk, he is smart and knows his brother best. If he does not have a solution I fear no one will… I have one more question, father.”

He nods “Yes of course, what is it you want to know?”

“What happened to the dragon eggs?”

Once more he hangs his head “It was all a lie. An egg shattered one day, it had fallen and hit the floor. I was expecting to find a body but nothing was inside. It was completely empty. The other two were the same.”

You walk away without saying another word to your father. Feeling betrayed and angry. Angry that he could be so foolish to believe in such things as dragons. Betrayed that he spent all the gold Ivar had given him in return for you… Sick that now your father will have no means to pay an army when Ivar comes for him.

................................................

When the castle begins to fill with Vikings you start to feel uneasy. You are comfortable with Hvitserk but you don’t know these men, more importantly you don’t know their motives for wanting to come along. If what Hvitserk said is true, all of these men could be doing Ivar‘s bidding. They could be scoping out the castle for Ivar, seeing if the information you gave him was the truth.

All of a sudden you get the urge to run, run away from all of this, leave everything behind and start new. Some place where no one knows who you are and can’t force you to betray anyone. A place that is beautiful and not in the midst of war.

Somewhere far away from Vikings and Kings, gold and greed. A place that hasn’t been touched by the foul hands of power hungry men and their ambitions.

But does a place like that really exist? Or is it just another fairytale?

A hand grabs yours and you wonder if the man it belongs to also shares you dreams of a better place. Or is he just like all the rest? Would you grow old with him and watch in silence as he destroys Kingdoms and tears apart families, like your mother watched your father do so many years ago? Would you become numb to all of his crimes?

You hope not.

You hope he shares your need to make this Kingdom a better place. You hope he grows old and happy with you and your children. You hope to tell your grandchildren about the Viking who married a Princess and together they made England a place of sanctuary and peace.

Wouldn’t that be wonderful?

Hvitserk pulls you closer and whispers in your ear “What is wrong Princess? You are awfully quiet.”

You sigh and look up at him. “I was only thinking”

He chuckles “Then I am sorry for the interruption, it looked like a wonderful thought.”

“It was, but do not apologize. I find when I talk to you my thoughts only get happier.”

He smiles “I hope you always feel that way.”

You look away from him then, searching the room for your father. When you find him he is face down in a mug of ale, screaming and carrying on like he didn’t just condemn his entire Kingdom to death.

Pointing at your father you whisper to Hvitserk “Do you see my father? He has lost everything, he has destroyed this Kingdom and the people in it. And he celebrates like nothing is wrong, that is because he doesn’t care. So long as he weasels his way into another deal with Ivar, as long as it is favorable to him. Painting my father as the hero, he will be happy. So long as he still has power and that power has the possibility to grow he will be happy. No matter who it crushes in its path…”

You look at Hvitserk then and say aloud “I will always feel happiness when I think of you, for as long as I have breath in my lungs, you will always make me smile. But you must promise me something.”

He nods

“Do not become like him, do not forget about peace and honor. Do not toss aside our people for gold. Please treat them with kindness and help those who are in desperate need. Help me make this a better place.”

He takes your hand and brings it to his lips, kissing your knuckles gently. He then reaches into his pocket and pulls out a wedding band. “This ring is very special to me, much like the necklace you wore on our first meeting. I do not take my promises lightly, I want you to know that, and I swear on this ring and my arm ring to never be like that man.” He places the ring on your finger and continues “I promise to love and honor you, and your wishes. I promise to protect your people as well as my own and do so with dignity and selflessness. I promise to always make your thoughts of me be filled with laughter and joy. I promise to help you fulfill your dreams for your Kingdom… But most importantly, I promise to be your husband, the father of your children, and the man you wish me to be for as long as you wish me to be. For every passing moment I spend with you I realize I am falling more in love and I do not want to waste more time in not telling you.”

A tear falls from your eye but for the first time in a long time it is not out of sadness. It’s out of love.

“Will you promise to love me Princess? A savage, worthless Viking that does not deserve anyone, let alone a woman like you.”

You nod and let a sob escape, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into an embrace “You are worthy. I do promise, I promise to always love you and stand by your side.”

He rests his head in the crook of your neck and lets out a breath. Saying the three words you never thought you’d hear him say “I love you”

Tag list: @alexhogh7137 @ivarthebloodyking @sfyri @curlyhairedhoseok @mavalenovaninagavi @lol-haha-joke @joebob15274 @itsharleyalb @motherofkattegat @kaitieskidmore1

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samael76 · 5 years ago

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Princely (A Widojest mini-fic, set after C2E81 and written before E82)

The Lavish Chateau. Evening. Caleb’s room.

“Caleb?”

He looked up from the spellbook he was studying, to find Jester hovering above him. They had all accomplished the unthinkable yesterday. After barely managing to put down Halas’ malformed clones and nearly losing Fjord and Beau in the process, they had found Yussa and succeeded in burning away the Laughing Hand’s heart. The creature was mortal once again; Yussa assured them of it.

Now they were taking a well deserved rest at the Chateau, while Yussa conferred with Allura, the archmage from Tal'dorei. As partial thanks for their assistance, the elven magus had gifted Caleb a potent book of spells, which he was eager to dig into. But Jester took precedence.

She always did, these days.

“Yes, Jester?” Caleb asked, giving the faintest smile.

She was leaning against the doorframe, seemingly deep in thought. He could only wonder what she had come to say. Was it time for dinner? Did Nott or Beau need to speak with him? Had Yussa sent a message?

“Do you really think I already look like a princess?” Jester said, rubbing her neck.

Caleb felt his heart start to beat faster. This was most unexpected.

“Er… I…well, of course. Yes, you…you check all the boxes,” he stammered. “Out of a storybook.

She shook her head and walked into the room, only a foot away from him now. Thump. Thump. Thump.

"But I donnnn’t! I’ve read soooo many books about princesses and like…I don’t really seem like any of them,” Jester whined. “Like this one!”

She reached over to the shelf behind Caleb and pulled out a bright blue book, with silver pages. She pulled it open and showed it to him. The page had a colorful drawing of a pale human woman with long golden hair, standing above a kneeling knight in shining armor.

"That is Princess Arabella Wintermist. Mama used to read this to me all the time. She’s super pretty and kind and has lots of gold-ok, so like, I have those parts obviously, but she’s…she’s a human. They’re always humans or sometimes elves. And like, one dwarf.”

She sighed. “There are no tiefling princesses. If there are, I’ve never read about them.”

Caleb closed his book and stood up. He looked Jester in the eye and frowned. "So this is an issue of race, ja? I find that surprising, considering who we travel with and the alliances we have formed. In the months since…we formed this company, we have worked alongside giants and kobolds…kenku and pirates…we have personally had an audience with a dark elf empress and seen a city filled with people who make tieflings look quaint in comparison.” He gave Princess Arabella a dismissive glance. “Scheisse on the stories. The world we live in shows the truth.”

Jester was silent at first, before she began to giggle. Thump. Thump. Thump. “That was really good Caleb! If the wizard stuff doesn’t work out, you could like, run for marquis!” She paused and put a hand on her chin. “…Is that even something you can run for?”

It was Caleb’s turn to laugh. A rare occurrence, but the idea was well-worthy of mirth. “I will…take it under consideration.”

Jester laughed with him for a moment longer, before she looked back at the storybook. “I do have a few more things in common with princesses, though…”

“Oh? What are those?” Caleb chuckled.

“I was kidnapped by a monster,” she whispered. “And a…dashing man died trying to rescue me.”

Caleb felt a chill run down his spine. He felt images flash through his mind; memories he had tried to suppress. An empty campsite. A grinning, blood-covered man. A friend lying upon the ground, eyes frozen open.

“J-jester, I’m so-” he started to say.

She shook her head. “It should have been a dragon, right? That’s what takes the princesses in stories!” She laughed again, but it was joyless. “But no…the first dragon I saw nearly…killed me! Nearly killed all my friends! And then the next one did too!”

Jester picked up the storybook and chucked it at the wall nearby, where it impacted with a loud BANG, the spine caving in and flopping onto the floor.

“Then there was the demon bug…thing! That was fucking creepy! And the…the fleshy mouth pit! And then, I had to watch my friend get her brain taken over by Oballsack the Dickhole!“

She fell backwards against the wall, slumping into the wood and landing on her rear. She was crying now, openly. Caleb rushed over and knelt down next to her. He didn’t say anything. Not yet. He just listened.

"And…I’m the one who sees her…I’m the one who has to watch Yasha, every time I take a peek at what they’re doing. I watched her killing all those people…she was crying, Caleb,” Jester croaked. “She was crying and I know she fucking hated it, but she couldn’t stop it. And I couldn’t save her! Not even last time!”

Jester had begun to clutch at her knees and dig into her skin. Caleb reached out and took one of her hands into his own. Her skin was warm, but tougher than many might suspect.

“We have failed…many times, in the last few months. But we always fail together, as a group. We learn and grow, every time. And when we do succeed, like we just did…the victory is all the sweeter,” Caleb stressed. “Oban may not yet know one of his champions has been made mortal. Just imagine the shock on his dummes, hochmütiges face when he sees the Laughing Hand brought down for good.”

Caleb made a faux-shocked expression, his eyes wide and mouth agape. Jester gave a weak chuckle.

“How could this beeeeee?! My beautiful Gigglefist, killed by the Mighty Nein!” Caleb whined, doing a truly atrocious Oban impression. But it seemed to work, as Jester laughed again, much more naturally.

“Yasha will not be prisoner in her own flesh forever. If we can kill the heart of a dark god’s servant, breaking the shackles on our friend should be a piece of kuchen.”

What he did next felt instinctual, but it still shocked him as he did it. Leaning his head down, Caleb kissed the back of her hand. Thump. Thump. Thump. He looked up at her, staring right into her eyes.

Jester looked a bit shocked herself, but it soon morphed into a wide, bright smile.

“You know Caleb, maybe I am a princess after all, cause…you sure seem princely.”

She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. It was only a few seconds, it felt like an eternity. Had he finally unlocked the mystery of chronomancy?

“Caleb! It’s time for dinner! Some kind of fish! You can reply to this message!” Nott’s voice echoed in his mind.

He tried to form the words he needed, but all that came out was…

“F-fish…”

Jester looked puzzled for a moment, but then her eyes lit up. “Oh! We’re having Silverscale Salmon and croquettes! It’s tasty as shiiiiiit!”

Jester stood up, pulling Caleb with her and hugging him tightly. “Thank you, Caleb,” she whispered into his ear. With one last wink in his direction, she strode downstairs, yelling something as she did.

“Nott, you better save some for me!”

“I PROMISE NOTHING!” Nott shrieked, from below.

Then Caleb was alone, standing stock-still and processing the last several minutes. His face was as red as some of his favorite spells.

Willy crept up behind him, with Frumpkin draped around his neck. Caleb looked down at them and took the golem’s stubby hands, beginning an awkward dance.

“Oh meine Schönheit, oh meine Schöne. Mit deinem Gesicht aus Lilien und Rosen…” he softly sang, smiling. Frumpkin purred and rubbed his head on Caleb’s arm.

He went down for dinner a minute later, feeling like royalty.

#critical role spoilers #critical role #widojest #caleb widogast #jester #jester lavorre #caleb x jester #caster #the german was done through a combination of google translate and wikipedia #I hope it works

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foolishlovebugbaby · 5 years ago

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moonlight melodies | part 1

princess!reader x scholar!chan

Summary: dancing, unfortunately, was not apart of the list of things you’re good at. luckily for you, chan’s adamant on changing that.

Word count: 9.8k

a/n: so just imagine chan’s a brunette and that this didn’t take me a century and a half to write. enjoy :))

“And five, six, seven, eight- a one, two, three- no! Step with the left foot! To your left your highness!- Maestro if you would please cut the music.” Your dance teacher stood at the far end of the ballroom, ears a blazing red as he frustratedly rubbed his temples. You could only mimic his level of frustration- God, did you have to have two left feet? You had passed through all your levels of etiquette training and learning how to formally address your subjects, courters, and members of the monarchy with perfect diction and fluency, but gracefully learning how to perform the waltz in a ball gown too poofy for its own good would be your royal demise.

So you stood in the center of the dance floor, face contorted in a mixture of frustration and humiliation at your dance capabilities (or lack thereof) while your practice partner bit down harshly on his lip to mask the profanities wanting to come out as a result of the blistering pain shooting from his feet that your heeled ones mercilessly stomped on.

“Your highness,” The instructor breathed out through tight lips, closing his eyes momentarily. “The masquerade ball is but a fortnight away, and we have yet to progress onto the promenade chassé! You’ve barely grasped the basics- I have no clue how on earth you’ll be able to dance the Viennese Waltz come the gala.” He rubs his cheeks frustratedly, and you snort at his vexation.

“Chill out, Minho, will you? I’ll be the one making a royal fool out of myself, so you’re safe.” You chuck off your practice heels to the side and stretch your toes in content. “These galas have always been a royal pain in the ass, so I don’t see why this is any different.” You huff, annoyed at the grandeur of it all.

Sure, being a princess required you to attend every gala, ball, party, whatever, as a way to make your presence known, but it had a way of turning mundane awfully quick. Like, by the second one, you were already over it. Dressing up and chowing down on all the hors d'oeuvres were the only highlights to any event that you went to.

“Madam, it is not just any other sissy gathering,” Minho said, standing straighter and looking quite offended. “It is a ball thrown in your honor. You’ve come of age to be courted, and all the finest young men in the kingdom and beyond will be attending in hopes to get a chance to dance with the Princess of the South.” He says that last part in a posh tone, and you can’t help but gag. He picks up the heels and dusts them off, walking over to hand them to you.

“Forgive me for being a smidge bit repulsed by the idea of having to find my one true love in a sea of stuck-up, unseasoned boys in order to be deemed worthy enough to rule my kingdom.” You say exasperatedly, head hot at the mere thought of it all. Since you were the sole heir to the crown (and you so happened to house a vagina instead of the preferred penile organ) people expected that you be married before ascending to the throne- which, to be frank, was a load of cow manure.

“Even you can agree that having a grand ball for men to seduce their way to the crown is getting pretty old.” You said, in a matter-of-fact tone. Minho sighed.

“What I believe is irrelevant, your highness. But tradition is tradition.” He kneels down, lifting up your leg to put on a heel.

“Traditions are meant to be broken.” You mutter, pouting incredulously.

“Perhaps. I’m not asking that you not break tradition, my lady.” He slips on the other heel as well. “Just that you try and look graceful while doing so.”

“Well if you put it that way...” You make a face, feeling bashful at yourself for being so indignant.

So maybe appearing at these dull parties were apart of the duties of being a royal, and, as luck would have it, meant that you had to learn how to waltz through the evening. But you supposed dancing with kiss-ups was a lot better than engaging in meaningless conversations with them.

When Chan became an Academic Scholar for the palace, he didn’t think becoming best-friends with the Count’s son was apart of his education plan. But alas, fate works in mysterious ways.

“Remind me again as to why we need to be present in the palace of the South two weeks before the gala.” He draws out, exhausted from what seemed to feel like an eternal horse ride to your kingdom. He had learnt two things on his journey; the first being that horse back is possibly the worst mode of transportation, and the second being that Princes’ are possibly the worst company on impossibly long journeys. Well, at least, the one he was riding with is.

From the Prince’s incessant whining to his numerous periodic ‘potty and tea’ breaks, Chan could’ve sworn he had died and gone to hell, and was living out his eternal suffering as a punishment for god-knows-what. But, then again, the sunny-side up to his grievances was that he could at least voice them out loud without fear of a public execution.

“We are going for the formalities, laddy. As well as for the diplomacy. Father says I need to be the face of the North in order to maintain active peace between our kingdoms, but if you ask me I call a load of horse dung on it.” The prince scowls. “It’s so blatantly obvious that he just wants me to lock it down with the Princess before the ball in hopes to gain an advantage over her other suitors.”

Chan furrows his eyebrows, “Are my ears deceiving me? Does the Prince Hwang Hyunjin detest the prospect of wooing a lady?” He mocks, and Hyunjin sneers at him.

“Keep running your mouth like that Chan and I’ll make sure the people have the juiciest tomatoes in the kingdom to chuck at you.” He says pointedly, “But if you must know, I’ve already met the Princess- a less than pleasant experience. She was always so... aggressive whenever we played hide and seek-”

“Wait, so you’re telling me you’ve completely discarded the possibility of romancing the only Princess in this bloody kingdom because of her attitude whilst playing hide and go seek when you were toddlers?” He says, astounded at the stupidity of his friend. One of the knights once said it always seemed like the Prince had a stick up his royal behind, but Chan could confirm that it was, in fact, excalibur up in there.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that. You know what I mean. So far, as a result of all the collective impressions she has made, she definitely is not my type.” He puts emphasis on the word ‘not’ and Chan scoffs at him. “But perhaps my opinion will change come the masquerade ball.” Hyunjin raises an eyebrow to himself and momentarily thinks it over. “Hm, perhaps not as she did pin me as a joke during pin the tail on the jester.”

Chan could only roll his eyes. While he could understand astronomy and classical literature and the fundamental workings of the telescope, Aristocracy was a concept he would need 4 lifetimes and a half in order to grasp.

The rest of the last leg of their journey went just the same, with Hyunjin and him exchanging sarcastic banter while the entourage of the Prince tailed not too far back. Moments of silence were a rare occurrence, but Chan figures it was better than nothing at all.

“Gates up ahead!” A knight yells from behind as the metal monstrosities came into view. Sure, war and sieges were a quiet yet possible danger, but really? To have borders built that outlandish with that much security?

The foundations were made of thick slabs of rock stacked up on top of each other, chiseled to have some sort of semblance to a cuboid, and stretched out on either side to what seemed like the edge of the world. On its sides were two flagpoles bearing the royal family crest up high and mighty. The wooden grid gate was a dark mahogany reinforced with steel, adding to the overall undaunted demeanour the structure exuded. The tops were adorned with metal spikes with more miniature flags of the royal family crest peaking through the breaks, a gentle juxtaposition to the otherwise severe facade.

It was definitely a lot more intimidating and fortified that what the North had, and the entire entourage could only gulp in anticipation. While many had visited the kingdom before, Chan was a first-timer, and his dazed expression certainly gave it away. He always heard stories about the South and how it was known to be the more liberated state in comparison with the two, and how his nature professors raved about how lush the kingdom was.

The guards at the top of the watchtowers stared intently down at them, and soon enough even more come bursting through the side gates, ready for inspection. A knight from behind emerged and presented papers with the Northern royal insignia, and the two guards exchanged mutual greetings.

“Open the gates!” A southern guard shouted up to the men in the watchtowers, and slowly, the inside of the kingdom came into view.

Brick houses and quaint village shops lined the cobblestone streets, with children running up and down tirelessly playing under the spring sun. The air smelled heavenly- the scent of freshly baked Sunday buns coming from the village bakery. On the side, the morning market bustled with townspeople negotiating prices with sellers to get a better deal on the vibrant fresh produce. The villagers yelled out brightly, a mix of greetings and laughter and heated negotiations, and Chan’s never seen somewhere so alive before.

Chan’s in awe at the picture-perfect scene in front of him, and they haven’t even rode into the main square yet.

If you were to be nit-picky about the most dreadful stage in preparing for an event, it wouldn’t be the entrance practices, or the dance training. It wasn’t even the horrid memorising of the monstrous guest list, though that certainly was a close second. Oh no, it was the absolutely abominable dress fittings that you swore took a lifetime and a half to finish. It was a mystery as to why it took that long, really, because you’d gladly walk out in anything- even a nightgown.

Which is the exact reason as to why your seamstress was unbelievably burdened by your lack of active input.

“Would your highness prefer satin or silk?” The seamstress seethes with tight lips, more so out of frustration and anger, and you look at her sheepishly through the reflection on the mirror.

You stood on a raised platform situated directly in front of an obnoxiously big mirror with a corset cutting off your circulation and a large crinoline fastened onto your waist to see how different silhouettes would look on your figure. Not the prettiest sight, admittedly, as you held semblance to a skeleton rather than a lady.

“Uhm, silk?” You say diffidently. In your defence, you had never been taught Fabrics 101 and so you supposed that you didn’t exactly qualify to have an opinion on what fabrics or cuts or colours a debutante princess should wear.

She closed her eyes for a moment and let out a breath through her gritted teeth, and you swore you could see smoke steaming from her ears.

“Silk it is.” She said curtly and you nod along.

She hung her measuring tape around her neck and stalked over to the side of the room, where a large wooden trunk sits collecting dust. With much effort and a stream of mumbled profanities, she dragged it over to you and opened it with a click.

“Does your highness have any preferences on a structure of mask?” You peered down at the box, viewing all the old and used masks stacked haphazardly on top of one another. Some with elaborate feathering attached, others with an assortment of austentatious jewels from rubies to jade lining the frame. Some were vividly emerald with a delicate satin sheen while others were a somber matte black. How could you possibly choose, you thought to yourself, when a myriad of masterpieces sat before you?

“Surprise me?” You quipped, unsure of yourself, knowing for certain you wouldn’t mind the final product as you knew the craftsmen were masters at their art. “Just make sure it’s not too… wild I suppose.” You added and the seamstress nodded, slightly pleased that you gave a single specification in your 5-hour session. An improvement from the last indeed.

She began to hold up numerous plain full-face masks up to your head, each a different size from the last, in order to find a suitable size that complimented your features well.

You were giddy in place at the thought of the process coming near to an end, wanting nothing more than to go back into your library and read another Jules Verne novel, when, “Master Minho had instructed me to send you back to the ballroom for more rehearsals, my lady. And he requests that you remain in your fittings.”

You wanted to curse, but there wasn’t a word that had been conjured up as of yet to fully encapsulate the amount of apprehension that bubbled inside you. So you groaned excessively, slumping where you stood.

“But I was so excited to get these contraptions off! Please please please at least take the crinoline off? I feel like a Leonardo Da Vinci project in the making.” You whined and made puppy dog eyes at her, and she looked at you with pity.

You could practically see the amount of protest and conflict that went on in her head through her expressions, because dealing with a displeased Minho was a terror and a half, but how could one resist the puppy dog eyes of the palace treasure?

Clearly, not the seamstress. “Okay, but you better do exceptionally well at practice today.” She huffed and began unclasping the abomination around your waist, as well as loosened up the damned corset which you were very much grateful for.

“You’re the best!” You yelped, and she looks at you with a hint of a smile on her features but masked it with a roll of her eyes. “You still need to wear a practice mask on.” She commented, but you were just happy you didn’t have to wear a cage around your legs. She handed you a black satin mask that only covered half of your face, and sent you off.

You always loved walking through the palace hallways. It felt like they were endless, going on and on until they reached the other side of the world. If you tried hard enough, you could get lost in them. But that sort of bliss would remain utterly untouchable, however, as Minho came into your line of view with his hands on his hips and an impatient scowl on his features.

“You’re late.” He said monotonously, and you’d be scared if it weren’t for the fact that he looked like a kitten. A very hostile one, but a kitten nonetheless.

“By, like, a minute.” You brushed his accusatory glare off and saunter into the ballroom.

“Just for that I’m making you wear your event heels.” His head was held up high, and you wondered if you could indulge in exercising authoritarianism just for this moment.

“Sometimes I wonder whether I’m even royalty anymore.”

“Not with those dance skills you’re not.” “Minho!”

As a scholar, Chan had the privilege to travel far and wide, experiencing and immersing himself into an array of different cultures, cuisines and religions, only to come back and record his stories of his wondrous adventures and teach all that he had learnt. His favorite part, however, was being able to hear copious amounts of unique dialects and tongues and how the people of the world conversed.

He’s a language nerd, to keep it frank.

Which is why, after 6 excruciating hours of dress fittings, Chan could spew every single profanity known to mankind in all the 7 languages he knew without being called out for being a foul mouth.

Even then, none could encompass the amount of maliceness he held for dress fittings.

Mumbling a string of incoherent obscenities under his breath, he kicked the rocks beneath him and he walked along the palace grounds, hands shoved in his pockets.

“God, I can’t even count on both hands how many times I’ve been poked by those damned sewing needles... “ He sneers and kicks at the ground beneath him, disorienting a few pebbles. “At least the tailor called me fit.” Silver linings were for hopeless optimists, and so, naturally, they were for Chan.

As he entered the palace’s garden walkway, he could hear faint humming in the distance. If he were any more distracted, he would have missed it- but he didn't. He was certain he could hear an obscure melody floating through the air- pitchy? Yes. But a melody nonetheless, and Chan was not about to judge the person when he could not put a face to the music.

Cautiously, he followed the string of faint notes through the garden’s meticulous and intricate landscape, being careful not to take a mis-step and ruin the delicate conglomerate of ornate flora and fauna. It didn’t help that it was the dead of night- the sky a misty navy blue with the pale crescent moon being the only source of light illuminating the fields. But, Chan being Chan, continued his peculiar late-night quest to find the out-of-tune songstress.

And find her he did.

He reached the center of the garden- a large, octagonal marble platform with large, renaissance limestone pillars on each point and an extravagant two-tiered fountain smack dab in the middle of it all. But it wasn’t the luxurious marble or the fountain with vines and flowers of all different kinds lining its base that had caught his attention- it was the barefoot maiden in a white tunic and burgundy midi-skirt dancing as if she had two left feet, to the tune of her own voice that did. Her back was facing him, so she had yet to acknowledge his presence, but he was fine with just watching.

She stumbled clumsily, every beat horrendously off while her toes betrayed her as she attempted to recall the music. Was that Johann Strauss? He couldn’t be sure, for her humming could be mistaken for the monotonous hum of a metalloid contraption. It amused him, really, how talentless one could be when it came to a simple one-two-step. He couldn’t help but lean on a pillar and watch her from afar, silently chuckling to himself when he heard her slew of profanities each time you messed up. He liked her determination, he concluded, and her efforts to improve despite all her errors.

There was a brief moment in time where she twirled around and Chan got a fleeting glimpse of her face- only, it wasn’t her face. It was partially covered in a mask, the black satin glimmering in the moonlight, and chan’s hand instinctively went to his back pocket where he had shoved his own as he hurried out the fitting room a couple of moments ago. He decided that if she was disguised, he would be too- for the sake of the enticing mystery, of course.

“You’re terribly off beat.” She gasped, startled, whipping around to look at him and he could only chuckle at her appalled expression, lips agape and eyes wide. “Excuse me?” Her tone was defensive, accusatory, confused and terrified all at once.

Remarkable.

“You move after each count, when you should be moving with the count.” He explained, standing straighter and slowly made his way towards her. She raised a shaky hand up.

“Don’t come any closer,” Her tone was timid, but there was an edge to her voice. “Who are you?” She questioned, looking straight into Chan’s masked eyes. Her gaze was strong and curious behind her mask, and he stared back with the same intensity.

“Who are you?” He questioned back teasingly, and she scoffed. She crossed her arms, “I asked first.” She said pointedly.

He bit back a smile, enjoying the teasing a little too much for his own good.

“Okay,” He looked around in contemplation, “I’ll give you a hint. I’m not from here.” He shoved his hands inside his pockets casually. “Your turn.”

“I am from here.” She replied back, annoyed. “You must have come from the North, correct?”

“Perhaps.” He shrugged, slightly taken aback by her sudden assumption.

“Well, I’m not offbeat.” She huffed and a pout made its way onto her lips. Chan couldn’t help but chuckle at her denial. “How long have you been standing there anyway?” She asks, and he suddenly felt bashful at the realisation of how creepy he must come off after observing her like that. He thanked the Gods that his mask covered his crimson cheeks.

He cleared his throat and swallowed down his embarrassment. “Long enough to know that you are offbeat.” He retorted, and she scoffed again at his reply, rolling her eyes.

“I didn’t know that you were a dance prodigy.” She mumbled under her breath, offended and humiliated at the thought of a random stranger watching her stumble over herself. Her gaze shifted from his eyes to the flower vines, and she couldn’t help but curse at the Gods for making her so talentless.

“I’m not, but I know enough to get by.” He took another step closer to her, until they stood at arms length, and stretched out a hand. “I could teach you.” He didn’t know why he offered, but the urge to help her learn the waltz was compelling. At least, that’s what he told himself as he nervously peered into her masked moonlit orbs. And anyway, what was a scholar supposed to do in the dead of night? Sleep? Unheard of.

Her eyes went wide at the suggestion, “I don’t even know you- h-how do I know you’re not going to kill me?” She stammered and took a step back. He recoiled his hand.

“I’m not going to hurt you, I promise. But I understand your hesitation.” He began to slowly back away, knowing that when he reached his room he would be staring at a tomato in the mirror. “My offer still stands.” With that, he turned and walked off.

She didn’t know why her breath hitched in her throat and why her mouth felt dry and scratchy as her mind debated on whether or not to accept his offer. She always thought she was logical and smart, but as she yelled “Wait!” she couldn’t help but feel reckless and everything but.

“I-I accept.” She stammered, her heart hammering in her chest.

He turned around shocked, “What?” He heard her loud and clear, but the mere likelihood of her accepting a strange masked man’s offer to teach a dance class was, statistically speaking, zero to none and went against all the maps of logic and reasoning that the universe laid out. But I digress.

“I said I’ll accept your offer.” Her voice was timid yet confident, an air of intrigue and uncertainty swimming around her. “But just know that if I’m found hurt, the castle would have your head.” Of course there was a catch, and Chan did not know what to make of that statement. Was she an important person? Was she bluffing? So many questions, not enough dancing.

He walked towards her for the second time that night. “You can trust me,” He held out his hand, his eyes trained on her own curious ones that peered up at him.

She took a breath and gently laid her hand in his. “Okay. This is me trusting you.”

Mornings are always difficult.

You always found it hard to get out of your thick comforters and ‘seize the day’, as they say. You would rather seize your dreams by the neck and hold onto the fleeting adventures in your brain. You could be a traveler, a dragon and a knight all within the span of your six-hour slumber rather than a princess in a castle too big with walls too high.

That night you had dreamt you were in the palace gazebo with a masked man so handsomely illuminated by the moon that you thought your mind had conjured it up as a result of your lackluster experience when it came to men.

Only, it wasn’t a dream. He was doubtlessly there, as solid as the ground you stood on- you’d know that because your felt the firmness of his shoulder against your palm and the calluses on his fingertips against your own. And it was everything but lackluster.

You sat up from your bed, the haze of last night’s endeavours fresh and vivid as though they were playing right before your half-lidded eyes, and you couldn’t help but groan at yourself.

“Reckless and stupid…” You mumbled, rubbing your temples vigorously while trying to suppress the growing grin forming on your lips. Spoiler alert: you failed to do so even as your teeth clamped down on them. You let out a dreamy sigh and crashed back down onto your pillows.

You closed your eyes, recollecting the moonlight of yesterday as it played back in flashes.

“Okay. This is me trusting you.” The Gods upstairs must be frowning down at you and your carelessness, you thought to yourself as you held onto the strange man’s hand. But screw the Gods- if Jules Verne had taught you anything, it’s that you need to be reckless in order to find an adventure.

A smile graces his plump lips and you can’t help but admire the cute indentations on the sides of his cheeks, taking note of the faint red tint seeping from under his mask. His hands, you realised, are much more bigger than yours- they engulfed yours in a stomach-turning warmth and felt sturdy against your shaky ones.

“Well then, shall we begin?” He says, his voice deep and thick with an accent you had never heard before. You nod and gulp, slightly in awe at the whole ordeal and impossibly nervous. You grew increasingly aware of how clammy your hands must have felt and how hard your heart was pounding in your chest- you might just go into cardiac arrest, you thought, but that was a risk you clearly were willing to take.

He held your hand firmly in his and proceeded to place your other one onto his shoulder. “May I?” He asks cautiously, his free hand ghosting over your side and you nod, feeling another round of heat spreading through your cheeks and neck. His warm palm rests on the small of your back, and you can’t help but have your mind go into a frenzy at the feeling. You felt utterly thrilled and stupendously stupid all at the same time.

“I’m assuming you know the basic movements and foot placements, correct?” He asks again and you snort. “Of course, I’m not that bad.” You defend and he smiles. “That is for me to decide, m’lady.” You scoff and squeeze at his shoulder, not being able to control the bashful smile making its way onto your lips.

He hums the song you attempted just moments ago, and the air fills with his melodic voice. He had the voice of an angel, you thought to yourself as he bobbed his head to fall into the proper count.

“And one, two, three-” He takes a step back, then to the left, and another to the right and you realised how much of a narc your feet were as you continuously missed each beat and stomped on his foot. Your eyes are trained to the floor where your feet are, and you thank the Gods that you are barefoot- had you been in anything else, he would have entered a different world of pain.

You shoot your gaze back up at his contorted face and you could not help but wince. “So maybe I am that bad.” You quip, and he only chuckles. “Yes- but don’t worry. You just need to relax, loosen up. Don’t be so nervous.” He says calmly, and your mind teeters at the thought of him knowing how fast your heart rate was going. “Just follow my lead.” His gaze never trains off of you, and he begins humming the same tune. Only, you could not just relax and loosen up given the situation you were in, and so your eyes immediately darted to the floor below you in hopes you would not mess up.

He stops his humming. “Eyes on me,” His voice is soft and gentle as he brings his hand up to your jaw to lift your gaze to his. You gulp and bite down on your bottom lip out of sheer restlessness. “You need to trust yourself- here you are trusting a complete stranger and yet you can’t even count on yourself to go with the music.” He says teasingly, and a displeased pout forms on your lips. “Easier said than done.” You mumble.

“You’ve got this,” He says with an encouraging smile, and you puff out your cheeks. “I hope you’re right for the sake of your feet.” He laughs.

His humms fill the air again, and it took all your mental capacity to keep your eyes steady on his. You blamed it on your second nature to look down at the floor whenever you danced- it certainly was not due to the fact that his soft brown eyes remained constantly on yours. Definitely not because his features- at least, the ones visible- were incredibly distracting in the moonlight. Oh no, none of those. At all.

He moves steady and slow, allowing you to pace yourself throughout the steps which you were incredibly grateful for- something foreign to you thanks to the trauma of Minho’s fast-paced counts. His body is sturdy and confident, guiding you through each stride with such ease and elegance. And before you knew it, you were both moving in sync- your legs naturally following and mirroring his own movements each time. Albeit shaky and far from elegant, it was definitely a level-up from the previous endeavour.

He smiles at you and you can’t help but beam back, “See? You’re doing it,” He says mid-hum and resumes right from where he left off, a proud grin on his face. Just like your movements, your lips mirror his elated ones and you continued to move through the platform for a few more paces until he finished the last note.

You were slightly out of breath- partly because of moving that briskly for the first time and also because the man before you managed to take your breath away simply with his gaze- and, involuntarily, you let out a quiet squeal. “I can’t believe I just did that,” You say in shock at yourself, a sense of pride filling your chest.

He only laughs at your epiphany as he held onto you, “I told you~” He sings, and you pinch his bicep playfully for his teasing. “I totally could have navigated through it by myself.” You say sarcastically, and he snorts at your comment. “You’re welcome.” He says pointedly.

“Thank you, I really mean it.” He smiles at your gratefulness, “Don’t mention it.”

You both stood towards the edge of the pavilion, your hand still in his and on his shoulder whilst his arm encircled your waist. Both of your chests rose and fell in sync, and for a moment you’re both silent- eyes still trained on each other while the crickets sang in the background. Of course, with all things exciting, the Gods decided that awkwardness was a must.

He steps back and clears his throat, his arm letting go of your waist and his hand falling back to his side, after realising just how close your bodies were to each other. You almost shiver at the loss of contact, feeling cold in the absence of his warmth. You scratch the back of your neck and wobble back and forth on your heels, feeling the air become dense with awkward tension.

“S-so uhm, you’ve definitely improved a lot since, well, since the last time I saw you- which really wasn’t that long ago so I’d say that’s a win.” He rambles, his gaze darting towards all eight corners of the gazebo, trying to look everywhere but at you. Which was fine, since you were doing the exact same thing.

“Y-yeah- still got a long way to go before the ball.” You say sheepishly, leaning back on a pillar to your left and twiddling with your thumbs.

“You’re going to be at the ball?” He questions, with a cute tilt to his head and you nod. “Will you?” You’re slightly hopeful- what are the chances of ever meeting this strange, alluring man again? “Maybe.” You can see him wink behind his mask and you roll your eyes.

“I could teach you again, if you want.” He suggests from beside you, and you hear his breath hitch. Your mind goes wild- what does one even say to that? Yes? No? Absolutely? Absolutely not? “I don’t want to waste your time with this though,” You settle on the courteous thing to say, even though your heart yelled at you to be selfish and seize the opportunity before it went away forever.

“It wouldn’t be a waste of my time- I could teach you at night, the same time as now.” He insists, and there’s a war going on in your head to accept. “And anyway, you’re still terribly ungraceful.” He smirks playfully, and you roll your eyes at his incredulousness.

“Well, if you insist.” You retort, and he grins. You could feel butterflies flare in your stomach, the buzz of the situation at hand making you feel absolutely wondrous. The masked stranger was charming and enthralling, and if you didn’t know any better you would have thought he was an apparition-a trick of the moonlight. Maybe you didn’t know any better, but that's besides the point.

“Well, I’ve got to go now.” You say wistfully, wanting to stay longer but knowing that the palace would be turned inside-out if you weren’t back in your chambers before midnight. His expression falls, much like yours, but his eyes are hopeful. “Tomorrow, same time?” He asks, and you bite back a smile.

“I’ll be here.” You drag your feet along the marble slowly, still facing him as you back away, before sending a final smile and turning around to walk off, your heart doing back flips in your chest. You don’t even make four strides when his warm hand wraps around your wrist.

“May I please know your name?” He breathes out, and you’re at a loss for words. For the first time in your life, someone was not bowing to you every time you made eye contact. For the first time in your life, someone could tease you and make playfully snide remarks without hesitation and fear. For the first time in your life, someone was unapologetically straightforward with you. And for the first time in your life, you were able to detach from your identity as a princess and remain completely you.

“Try again next time,” You say playfully after contemplating.

He sighs with a smile, and you head back to the palace, a skip in your step and the feeling of his hand still wrapped around your wrist.

You have a stupid smile on your face at the breakfast table, much to your parents confusion and delight. “What’s got you so elated, dear?” Your mother questions with her brows furrowed, chewing on her omelete.

“Oh nothing, just a book I read.” You lie on the spot and feel your face heat up, turning your gaze back down onto your plate of breakfast pastries. “Must be some book.” Your father says, and you let out a knowing chuckle.

“Sweetheart, some troops and dignitaries of the North have come for the ball, and so has the Prince, so I’d suggest you make yourself well acquainted with them during their stay at the palace.” Your mom quips and you sit up straighter. “Hyunjin is here?” There’s a displeased tone to your voice, and it’s clear that your mom doesn’t appreciate it.

“Yes, and I expect you to make nice, just like old times.” She says pointedly and you puff out your cheeks. You see, it’s not that you didn’t like the Prince, but you didn’t exactly like him either- he always seemed rather... displeased by your antics and so you never really moved past royal formalities.

“How are your dance lessons going, dear?” Your father asks you in his booming voice, and you have to laugh.

“How do you think they’re going?” You retort and he makes a face at you. “I do hope you’ve at least improved from the last time we saw you dance,” You parents exchange looks, “It’s high time that the Princess is able to dance through the evening without ripping the ends of her gown.” You roll your eyes at that and groan.

“That happened only twice, father, and if you ask me, those gowns needed some edge to them.” It was your parents’ turn to roll their eyes at you. It was no secret that you, the Princess, resembled a dismembered horse whenever you danced- even if it were a secret, it clearly was not a very well-kept one. Which was fine, since the subject of your blundering dance capabilities only saw the light of day whenever an event as grand as a ball became the talk of the town. But jokes get old, and so do the labels that deemed you nothing more than an ungraceful royal, so your determination to prove anyone and everyone wrong grew more and more each day.

Your masked dance instructor certainly increased your will tenfold.

After breakfast, your parents wasted no time in shooing you off to the dance hall, saying something along the lines of “a full stomach means bountiful results of labour.” much to your dismay.

Time is money, and that certainly was the mantra that Minho exuded as he wasted no time in directing you through all the warm-ups and floor routines with your dance partner. You took a deep breath and imagined that you were back at the gazebo, in the arms of someone you didn’t fully know.

Trust yourself.

Do you trust me?

You’re doing well, just remember to count each beat in your head.

I told you you could do it.

Eyes on me.

It felt like you were floating as the maestro played each melody, your eyes dazed as your mind played back each step on repeat. Unbeknownst to you, you had successfully ran through the routine without stepping on your partner and staying on count- for the most part.

“Well, my lady, I am pleasantly surprised at this drastic improvement,” Minho’s eyes are wide and sparkly and full of shock at the fact that you stayed on beat for the majority of the dance, and you can’t help but chuckle at his dramatic bewilderment. “What in heaven’s name has gotten into you?” He questions genuinely, and your mouth goes wide in disbelief.

“Don’t sound too shocked, it’s not like this is the first time I’ve stayed on count.” He makes a face. “Okay, so maybe it is.” You mumble curtly and proceed to fold your arms over your chest like an offended child- which you were, but that’s besides the point.

“Does this improvement call for a celebratory, well-earned 2-day break?” You ask, half jokingly and half absolutely serious, and clasp your hands together hopefully. His face goes back to blank and he straightens up.

“Absolutely not- you’re still astonishingly shabby and lumbering, your posture is horrendous and-”

“Okay I get it, a simple ‘no’ would have been sufficient, thank you very much.” You sneer, and he smiles sarcastically back at you.

“You’re welcome.”

Minutes, seconds, hours, days, months, years- you didn’t know just how long practice took until you stepped out of the ballroom, feet covered in blisters and an ache in your back, to a haze of purple and orange in the sky, the sun just about to touch the horizon. You’re exhausted and drained, and, if it were up to you, you’d have ran away right there and then but you couldn’t, because the sores on your feet laughed at your futile attempts to even walk.

Okay, that was a tad dramatic. You could walk, but you figured playing it up a little would somehow garner the attention of your very powerful parents to do something about Satan’s Incarnate, Minho, and get you a few practice-free days.

But of course, your parents were not in the throne room, or the dining area, or even in their chambers- the reason being an impromptu visit to the eastern provinces for diplomatic purposes as you later came to find out. You could almost hear the Gods snickering at your turmoil.

So you dragged your sore feet to the palace library, ready to delve into another chapter of another book that peaked your interest even though your mind would betray you and saunter back to your masked instructor gleaming in the moonlight.

He was all you thought about, even as you vividly imagined strangling Minho, he remained in the back of your mind. If you tried hard enough, you can almost feel him again- firm arms and everything. Your heart raced at the thought of meeting for the second time tonight.

A loud thump echoed through the library, and you freeze in place, a hand outstretched towards a bookshelf, your heart startled from the sudden noise. “Who’s there?” You question loudly.

“Sorry!” A muffled and strangled voice yells from the other side, and your head darts in all directions to get a glimpse.

You clamber down from the step-stool you had been on and investigate, peeking your head through every aisle and row from the piles of encyclopedias to the endless collections of literature. But, in an aisle labelled Astronomy, a pale, curly-haired stranger sits disheveled with a thick volume of books strewn on the floor, pages exposed haphazardly and face-down. You raise your eyebrows, and he smiles sheepishly at you.

“The collection fell as I was trying to get it out.” He explains, cheeks tinted rouge while he bent down to pick them up. You bend down as well, gathering as many as you can and flattening out the bent pages.

“Thank you for your help,” He says gratefully, and you smile at him. “No problem.” You’ve come to the conclusion that you absolutely have no recollection of who this is, and what his name is or where he’s from, but there’s a strange sense of familiarity that wrecks your brain. The way he talks sounds so familiar, but you can’t quite put a finger on it. He’s clad in a white dress shirt and a burgundy vest over top, with black slacks to match, and you notice the insignia on the left side of his breast pocket. A Northerner.

You notice as well that he’s handsome- thick dark hair that curled at the tips with rosy skin and eyes that looked as though they were dipped in honey- but nevermind that.

“May I please know your name?” He asks and you’re snapped out of your analytical trance. You say your name, and he looks as though he’s seen a ghost.

“Y-your highness- forgive me, I did not know it was you,” He’s kneeling on one knee and his head is bowed, and you feel bashful at the sudden formality. Princess. Right.

You curtsy and nod your head, “It’s okay, my apologies for not introducing myself. May I know your name?”

He’s about to speak when, “Channie boy! Where are you? The palace has got so many great-” You can immediately imagine a face to match the voice, and your suspicions are confirmed the moment his tall figure saunters into the aisle.

“Ah, Princess y/n. Delighted to see you again.” He cuts himself off and stride over to you, bending to bow and taking your hand to place a chaste kiss on the back of it. He does this because he knows how squeamish it makes you feel, and your distress entertains him too much.

“The pleasure’s all mine, Prince Hyunjin.” You curtsy and fold your hands over each other behind your back, shooting lasers with your eyes at the boy in front of you. “Chan, I see you’ve met Her Royal Highness.” Hyunjin says that last part pointedly and sarcastically, and you feel like shoving him into a pit of snakes.

“Indeed I have.” The stranger, Chan, says curtly with a tight smile, obviously noticing the blunt tension between the two of you.

“Well, Princess, unfortunately my scholar and I have some business to attend to,” Hyunjin and Chan are exchanging a conversation with their eyes and you find it amusing how strange it would look out of context. “So we shall bid you farewell for now. Hope you have a good night.” You exchange bows again and soon enough the two men were off, their seemingly hyper conversation being drowned out by the enormity of the library.

So he’s a scholar, you repeat in your head and smile in amusement. Since when did the prince hang out with scholars?

There’s nothing more nerve-wracking to Chan than having to wait. But in retrospect, he did come a little too early than what was expected, his excitement and nervousness not allowing him to sit still until he found himself in the grandeur of the palace gazebo.

Could you blame the guy? His mystery woman was all he thought about, even as Hyunjin dragged him around the palace to look at god knows what, and he could not help but hope to see her in the palace by coincidence even if he did not fully know what she looked like. Consequently, he ended up looking like a fool on a wild goose chase, with Hyunjin interrogating him about why he looked like he was after hidden treasure more than he would have liked.

So he walked around a few times, then another few times, with each time eliciting a sigh from his lips and a puff of his cheeks, until the golden hues were long gone and were replaced by a dark night sky looming above him. He was wearing the same mask again, even though he felt as if he looked absolutely stupid in it, and made sure he practiced the routine a few times so that the information he parted wasn’t complete and utter horse dung.

Thanks to the fact that the palace clock tower was easily seen from his vantage point, it felt as though the clock hands were mocking him, saying ‘ha! It’s been two hours, get a grip!’. Any rational person would have left after thirty minutes- an hour, at most, but rational was not apart of Chan’s dictionary.

Maybe she’s not coming tonight, he thinks to himself, and he can feel the heat stain his cheeks for being so hopeful.

“I’m sorry- have you been waiting long?” She’s panting and there’s a sheen of sweat slick on her forehead, but she’s here. He jumps slightly, startled by her sudden and unexpected appearance, and scratches the nape of his neck.

He smiles sheepishly, “Not at all, just got here a few minutes ago.” Yeah, if one hundred and thirty eight minutes were considered as ‘a few’. She smiles at him with her half-covered features, and he thinks the wait was worth it.

“Shall we begin?” He nods, finding her straight-forwardness cute, and takes her hand in his.

“Will I ever know your name?”

They’re sitting side by side on the steps of the gazebo, and Chan’s slightly out of breath from all that dancing. It had been a good couple of hours since they had started the night, the dark starry sky freckled with stars blanketing their horizon, and neither of them had any plans to head back to the palace.

“That depends,” She chuckles from beside him, “Will I ever know yours?” She says playfully and turns to look at him, her masked eyes gleaming with the slightest crescent-moon curve to them. He’s dying to know what she looks like, but he guesses time will only tell.

“Alright then. What’s your relationship with the royal family? I’m assuming you’d have to either work under them or be apart of them to live in the palace.” He doesn’t notice her gulp out of nervousness.

“You could say I know them, sure.” She says half-heartedly.

He contemplates her response, “Do you know the princess?” Though brief, his run-in with the Princess was one he had yet to live down, with the embarrassment of questioning who she was a complete blunder on his part. It was so obvious she was goddamn royalty, what with her stately attire and astonishingly regal features- were all royals exceptionally good-looking? Was the good-genes pool reserved for the throne? Chan’s certainly met a fair amount of underwhelming-looking aristocrats during his time, but the Princess of the South was definitely not classified as such.

He doesn’t know that her heart beats a million miles a second at his question.

“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t.” She says playfully in attempt to mask the irony. “Why? Do you know the Prince?” She challenges. “What if you are the Prince?” She says exaggeratedly and he can only laugh.

“Ding-dong your answer is wrong,” She laughs. “I could never last being a royal.” He says and she tilts her head to the side.

“And why is that?”

“Well, I just don’t think being at the receiving end of a life of servitude is my sorta thing. And, between you and me,” He leans over playfully, “It seems like all royals do is demand this and demand that, since they’re born into a life that requires them to not work for anything.” It’s not that he hates royalty with every fibre of his being- and he isn’t one to complain, since he has basically been interwoven into that lifestyle after joining the Scholar’s court. But seeing life from the perspective of someone who has had to work for everything and of one who has had to work for nothing unsettles him- the unfairness of it all leaving an unpleasant taste in his mouth.

“I think you’re mistaken,” She replies with conviction, and he turns his gaze onto her. “They never really asked for that life, and, sure, being born into something makes you ignorant but to assume that all of them are the same is ignorant as well. Maybe some are waiting for their turn to make an actual difference, and maybe some are doing their best behind closed doors because everything they do and say is recorded by everyone around them.” She rambles, staring at the ground with her fist clenched on the marbe below it and Chan stares in awe. “I mean, that’s just my take. Just a guess.” She follows up quickly, the tips of her ears turning red.

He’s floored by her response, mostly because he’s been surrounded by people with the same ideology (save for the royals themselves, of course) that it’s refreshing to hear something different. His curiosity towards her only skyrockets.

“I’ve… never thought of it that way.” He says slightly dazed as he stares at his outstretched, boot-clad feet.

“Well, you learn something new everyday.” She says, bringing her knees up to her chest and resting her cheek on them, facing him and flashing a small smile. It makes his heart skip a beat, but he shrugs it off as the pollen grains triggering his allergies.

They stay in comfortable silence for a few minutes, his eyes never leaving hers and letting the autumn air breeze by them, until the clocktower rumbles, signalling that midnight has fallen. She breaks their gaze and looks up, “I’ve got to go.” She sounds unwilling to, and Chan almost tells her to stay. Almost.

“Will I see you again tomorrow night?” He stands up along with her, his voice hopeful, and her eyes answer for her before her voice does. “Yes.”

“Well then,” He takes a step back and grabs her hand in his, “This is goodnight.” He bows like a gentleman and leaves kiss on her knuckles, his heart soaring at the feeling of her soft skin against his lips. He looks up to see her biting her shy smile away and a grin makes its way onto his face. “Goodnight to you too.” She squeaks out and looks him in the eye one last time before scuttering off into the garden, her silhouette shrouded by the trees.

He already misses being close to her.

You’ve come to the conclusion that only a specific stranger in a mask can make the butterflies in your stomach act as though they’re on acid, which is completely fine with you.

“Good evening Princess, fancy seeing you here.” Hyunjin greets dryly, his straight posture making him look as wound tight as ever, and you quirk an eyebrow at him.

“I sort of live here, Prince Hyunjin.”

It amazes you how you had managed to run into him out of all people within the enormous palace, but you figured that it was punishment for all the immature pranks you had pulled on him when you were younger. In your defense, scaring him was the only pleasure you took, not the crying and screaming part.

“I know that.” He retorts just as dry. “Why are you lugging such a big record player around? And why the mask?” His head tilts perplexedly at the machine twice your size cradled in your arms, and you gulp- how were you going to explain your way out of this one?

“My dance instructor is making me practice in my chambers?” It comes out more like a question and you thank the gods you have a mask to cover the sheer audacity on your face. His face contorts even more in confusion, as if it were even possible. “But your chambers are that way?” He points directly behind you. God dammit Hyunjin, can’t you just let a girl live?

You clear your throat, “Well, I meant my other chambers.” You don’t have a second room, but you’re relying on his gullibility to save whatever dignity you have left. “Anyways, can’t chit chat, I must get back to practicing my dance moves.” You excuse yourself quickly and start making a beeline around him.

“But it’s late-”

“Have a good night!” You’re desperate at this point- you were already running late thanks to having to find and carry your father’s record player around your obscenely large palace, you didn’t need a nosy Hyunjin interrogating your motives to add on to your tardiness.

“Oh, Princess! Before you go, have you happened to see Chan around by any chance?” Hyunjin yells from behind you, but your foot is already halfway through the exit.

“Nope!”

“Wow.” He says, his eyes glinting with amusement and shock behind his mask. You stand there panting, slightly sweaty and extremely eager to show him how the contraption works. But the moment you settle it down, he’s already tinkering with it.

“I’m guessing you’ve brought this to aid in our lack of music?” He smiles up at you humorously and you grin sheepishly.

“Figured you’d appreciate a break from having to hum all the time.” You mumble and fiddle with your thumbs. It was a gesture that you had been conjuring up ever since you noticed how fatigued he would get trying to hum and dance simultaneously, and you figured you needed an arm workout anyway.

“I don’t mind the humming,” He stands up and takes your hand in his. “But thank you anyway.” His smile is perfect, and you thank the heavens it’s not covered by the mask.

“So, shall we begin?” You nod and he places a hand on his shoulder and his hand around your waist and flips a switch on the player with the tip of his boot.

“One, two, three…” The music fills the air softly, a mix of static and melodies while he guides you around the courtyard. You’re still not yet used to holding his gaze- mostly because he makes your heart do things it shouldn’t, but you blame it on your lack of habit.

Each step is just as smooth as the previous and there’s no denying the massive improvements you’ve made. “You’re doing excellent,” He compliments in-between counts and you grin. “I have a great teacher.”

He spins you out and you twirl back into him, your back pressed against his chest and you can feel his breath ghost over your neck. It sends shivers down your spine, and you’re praying he doesn’t see the hairs standing up at the back of your neck.

The moment is gone as quick as it came, however, and you’re back to facing him. You notice the red tint on the tips of his ears and something inside you becomes giddy at the thought of making him blush.

But of course, the gods hate you, so they decide to mess with your record player. “What’s happening?” The tunes become slower and slurred, the periods of static becoming prolonged, and what once was a harmonious symphony has now become nothing but noise.

You both stop in place momentarily, your gaze drifting towards the turn-table across the courtyard as you curse it out for ruining the mood. Out of all the times it could’ve picked to malfunction, it chooses now to act up? Blasphemy.

A finger is placed on your chin and brings your gaze back to his. “Well the music is, technically, still playing and you know what they say- The show must go on.” There’s a smile on his face and you look at him, puzzled.

“But the music’s off beat?”

“The music is never wrong- we’re simply too fast.” He says wittily. You’re still confused, but he takes extra slow steps and your mind puts two-and-two together.

After being so accustomed to moving as fast and as accurate to the beat as possible, the slow counts are ones you can barely get used to- heck, you can barely count in the midst of the skewed melodies and scrambled music. But you keep your eyes on him and he brings your body closer to his until you’re flush against his chest, and suddenly the music doesn’t even matter any more. You’re moving aimlessly with him with every slow step that passes you by, and the music melts into the background until it becomes lost with the crickets and trees. His gaze is soft and gentle with a comforting firmness, just like his grip, and you’re so entranced with the stranger before you that you don’t even hear the clock strike twelve.

There’s a myriad of synonyms that are along the lines of ‘perfect’, but you’d have to spend a lifetime trying to find the one that perfectly encapsulates this moment.

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rohad93 · 5 years ago

Text

A Knight Affair: Redux - Past

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21474193/chapters/51423286

She wasn’t listening.

But at the very least she was self aware enough to know she was no longer listening to her mother’s lesson about trade tariffs. She hadn’t been for several moments, she was much to distracted by the knight that had come in to speak to the ageing knight captain who had been standing guard at her mother’s side.

Her eyes flickered to the queen as she lectured her eighteen year old on important matters of state that she should have been paying attention to instead of staring longingly at the blonde knight’s profile while she talked to her superior.

As though she hadn’t spent most of the day daydreaming about the time they’d shared in the library only a few nights prior.

The knight captain looked down at the documents in his hand the other knight had handed him. When he did the younger knight turned ever so slightly to look at her.

Amber and cerulean meeting for a brief moment before Aurelia jerked back to front facing, face looking just a hair pinker than it had before.

Blue couldn’t help but smile to herself.

“Don’t you agree?” When there wasn’t an immediate answer, Winea Diamond looked up from the documents she had been discussing with her daughter to find her looking over at the two knights. A delicately sculpted eyebrow rose in silent wonder at what the knights could be discussing that had stolen her oldest daughters attention.

“Azurine.”

The princess jumped, eyes whipping up to her mother, face pinking.

“Is our discussion so dry that you’re concerning yourself over the knight captain and his affairs?” She questioned, lip quirking up at the panic flashing over the girl’s face.

“No, mother.” She turned her attention fully to the queen.

“Perhaps we should take a brief hiatus…” She set the documents on her desk.

“No, mother I…” She started, only for the queen to hold up a single finger and look at her over her shoulder.

“Go, clear your head, and when you come back we will continue.” She smiled.

“Of course.” Blue stood and curtsied before turning to leave her mother’s office.

Her eyes drifted once more to the blonde knight as she passed, but Yellow kept her eyes trained on the knight captain in front of her.

She was obviously much better at keeping on task then herself.

She sighed to herself when her mother’s office door closed behind her.

She thought it had been hard to concentrate when she’d only been pining after the knight. Now she’d had a fleeting taste and keeping her mind on anything else was impossible.

She rubbed her temple tiredly as she wandered aimlessly through the halls of the palace, nodding to the few servants she passed along the way.

Her mother was patient but that would only last for so long. She needed to pull herself together and carry on with her duties.

A handful of kisses had turned her into a mess!

“Blue!”

She jumped, turning around to in time to be tackled. She swayed but stayed standing, looking down she immediately recognized the fluffy mop of pale colored hair.

“Rosaline…” Blue smiled down at the nine year old as the girl wrapped her arms tightly around her waist as she looked up at her with a wide, gapped toothed smile, her pale curls threatening to fall over her bright eyes.

“Blue, are you done today? Will you come play with me in the garden?” She asked, tugging on the elder’s skirts.

“I’m sorry, Rosaline. I’m only taking a short respite before mother requires my presence again in her office.” She smiled sadly at the now frowning girl.

“You’re always busy.” She puffed out her cheeks, tugging on Blue’s skirts.

“I know. Mother has much to teach me.” She explained to her pouting sister.

“What about tonight?” She gave another tug.

“Tonight?” Blue repeated.

“Yes, the burning?” She looked at the teenage princess with wide, pleading eyes. “You swore you would ask mother if I could go with you.” She reminded.

The burning. Blue had very nearly forgotten about the festivities going on in town this evening, including the large bonfire that burned during it all.

“I haven’t asked her…” She hurried on before the girl could even open her mouth. “I will as soon as I see her.” She promised.

That seemed to mollify the nine year old, but only just.

“Let me know soon!” She demanded, finally releasing the silken blue material from her grasp.

“You will be the first to know.” She smiled. “Now you had best head on back to the garden.” She nudged. It took little prompting before the girl was once again barreling through the halls, heedless of the servants she nearly plowed into before disappearing around a corner.

Blue bit her lip as she turned and headed back to the queen’s office, unsure how amenable her mother would be to the idea after she had been less than diligent this afternoon with her lessons.

She was so lost in thought that she didn’t even notice the knight now standing outside her mother’s office door until she ran headlong into them.

“My apologies I wasn’t…” She started but the words left her when she looked up to find she had run head first into the very knight that had been plaguing her thoughts so often the last two days.

Yellow jerked, an angry barb stalling on the end of her tongue when she realized who had run into her.

“Are you alright, Bl...Your Highness?” She quickly caught herself.

Blue glanced around the hall to find it empty, save for the two of them, at least for the moment.

“I’m fine, Yellow.” She said quietly, not being able to stop herself from smiling up at the knight adoringly..

“I’m glad.” She jerked her head stiffly, the bridge of her nose coloring ever so slightly.

She fought the urge to reach up and trace her fingertips over the pinking skin, as much as she wanted to, she knew the knight well enough to know that the touch would be unwelcome here in the middle of the hall in broad daylight.

“Is your business with the knight captain done?” She asked, wanting nothing but to draw there interaction out just a little longer, she had scarcely seen Yellow since the night in the library. The knight was fidgeting in her armor.

“Yes, I was only delivering some documents to him….” She was glancing anywhere then at Blue and it made the heir frown.

“I need to be heading back to my post now.” She quickly sidestepped around the stunned princess and hurried down the hall before Blue could not think of anything to say to stop her.

She watched the knight go, mouth slightly agape as she vanished from sight.

Hurt quickly began to bubble up in her stomach as she looked at the last place the knight had occupied in her sight.

Was Yellow upset with her? She would hardly look at her and had hurried off the moment she had been able. Was she regretting the other night?

She clasped her hands together as the uncertainty rose up, pain throbbed sharply in her chest.

She managed to pull herself together and turn to enter her mother’s office.

The queen looked up from the documents she was scrutinizing when her eldest walked in.

“Ah, Azurine, you’re back. I take it you have cleared your head?’ The queen asked, eyes flickering back down to whatever had previously held her attention.

Pulling herself together Blue stood tall and squared her shoulders, she would have to deal with whatever was going on between herself and the blonde knight later, she had her duties to attend to.

“Yes, mother.” She curtsied.

The rest of the afternoon was spent in intense concentration on the lesson her mother was giving her, anything to distract herself from the hurt she was still feeling so keenly at the female knight’s curt exit.

“We will pick this up another day.” The queen finally said as the sun was starting to set, casting an orange glow into the office through the tall windows.

It was only then that she remembered the burning.

“Mother…” The queen looked up from her desk, her full attention on her daughter.

“Rosaline wished to know if she might accompany me into town this evening for the festivities.” She asked. The queen frowned, pale brows dipping low over her eyes, deepening the already present furrows of her brow. Blue already knew what her mother was about to say but waited for the queen to speak regardless.

“I don’t believe that allowing your sister out on the town after dark would be a wise decision, not that I don’t fully believe you and the guards fully capable of keeping watch over her, I simply would prefer she stayed here, where I know she is safe.” The queen laced her fingers together on the great wooden desk. “You are of course are free to go, with an escort.” She quickly added.

“Thank you, mother, I understand. I will tell her.” Blue nodded and started to turn to go.

“Wait a moment, Azurine.” She stopped, turning back to her mother as she rose from her chair. “It would not be fair to put all her disappointment and ire on you, I shall come with you and inform her of my decision.” She walked gracefully around the desk and toward the door, Blue following without a word.

The servants stooped and bowed to the two royals as they walked through the halls.

The queen paid it little mind as she walked, an everyday occurance she had long grown accustomed to.

The third floor was devoid of servants.

‘All the better they not witness what could possibly be a tantrum of unbelievable proportions’ Blue couldn’t help but think to herself. The youngest Diamond had really been outdoing herself as of late in terms of fits.

The queen had barely rapped her knuckles on the wood before the door swung open.

Pink looked up at the queen in shock, having not expected the older woman at all.

“Good evening, Starlight.” The queen smiled at her youngest.

“Mother!” Pink squealed, dashing forward and burying her face in the queen’s glittering, gossamer layered skirts.

“Your sister tells me that you wished to attend the festivities in town this evening.” She started, kneeling down to better be at the girls level.

“Yes, please, Mother?” She clasped her hands together in front of her face, pleading.

“With all the commotion and everything going on, I don’t think it would be wise, starlight.” The queen said.

The girls face fell and Blue knew what was coming.

"Why?! Is Blue going?" She threw out her arms.

"Your sister may go if she wishes, you however, shall stay here where I can be sure you are safe." The queen said with an air of finality as she stood, to look down at the girl.

"That's not fair!" She stomped a delicately slippered foot on the stone. Winea narrowed her eyes at her youngest.

“If you wish to behave like this, so be it, but you’ll do so in your room.” The queen pointed back into the room in question.

“Bu-” Pink started.

“Go to your room!” The queen’s commanding voice made both girls jump.

With tears bubbling up into her eyes, Pink ran back into her room, slamming the door closed behind her.Her faint cries could be heard through the door.

The queen sighed, pressing a finger to her temple.

“She can not grow out of this phase fast enough.” Winea breathed before turning to her eldest. “Will you be attending the festivities this evening?”

“I believe so.” She answered. The queen nodded.

“At the end of the hour an escort will be waiting for you at the gate. Enjoy yourself, my dear.” The queen said as she turned to go.

“Thank you mother.” Blue said to the older woman’s retreating back.

It was near the end of the hour when she ventured outside in her cloak the sky quickly darkening to night. The carriage sat waiting just outside the gates as her mother had promised.

“Are you ready to head into town, Your Highness?”

She startled as Yellow came around the carriage, not wearing her armor but her usual casual clothes and a black cloak wrapped around her shoulders.

Blue’s chest throbbed at the sight of the knight, still unsure how to interpret their earlier interactions. Her hands tightened around each other.

“Yes” Was the curt response as she climbed into the carriage, heedless to the look Yellow was giving her.

The ride into town seemed to take much longer than usual to Blue as she sat inside. Worrying her hands together. Of all the knights and guards her mother could have ordered to accompany her tonight it would be her.

Before, Blue would have been ecstatic at the idea of Yellow accompanying her to town but that had withered away, making room for the apprehension growing inside her.

She was afraid.

Afraid that Yellow regretted what had happened the other night, they hadn’t really had the chance to discuss it that night, someone had come into the library and the knight had run off at Blue’s insistence, lest they be caught together.

They hadn’t had the time to be alone in the same room together since.

She worried her lip between her teeth, wondering if she had been naive.

Eventually the carriage pulled to a stop and the door opened, revealing the cloaked knight.

Blue wasted no time climbing out and walking past Yellow without a second glance as she flipped up her hood.

The carriage had been stopped a short walking distance from the town to avoid drawing any unnecessary attention to them.

"Blue…"the knight started.

"We had best hurry or we're going to miss the best part." She quickly cut off whatever she was going to say as she began walking toward the town. She wasn't sure she had the heart to hear it right now.

Yellow said nothing, only followed several spaces behind the eldest princess.

The town center was bustling with activity, a giant pile of wood had been constructed in the town square and a huge crowd of people had gathered around as the sun dipped below the horizon, signaling the start of the night’s festivities. Somewhere in the crowd a group of musicians began to play and suddenly the fire was lit, flames quickly licking there way up the dry wood.

Once it was well and truly burning they began to throw handfuls of powder into the flames, making them all manner of colors.

It was a shame her sister hadn’t been able to attend, Pink would have been amazed with the blue green and even violet flames the powders were creating.

“Azurine…may we talk?”

She stiffened when the knight spoke, she had almost forgotten about the blonde.

Almost

She nodded but said nothing as she waited for whatever else Yellow was going to say. Perhaps tell her that the other night had been a mistake, and that they should forget it ever happened.

The very idea of which made her eyes sting and her chest tight.

“Are you upset with me?”

It took a long moment for the question to sink in, but the second it did the princess whipped around to face the hooded knight,her back to the fire. Amber eyes were looking at her, unconcealed worry apparent by the firelight bouncing in them.

“What?” Was all she could manage.

“Are you upset with me?” The knight repeated, looking pensive.

“What?” She repeated more confused now than ever before. Yellow shrugged.

“You haven’t exactly seemed pleased to see me tonight.” The knight mumbled, eyes flickering from blue off to the side, like she couldn’t bare to look at the princess.

“I thought you were upset with me…” Blue admitted, making amber eyes come straight back to her. A violet light was now bouncing off the knight’s angled features.

“Why would I be upset with you?” The knight stepped closer, the edges of their cloaks brushed.

“Do you regret what happened the other night?” Her voice was barely above a whisper, afraid to know the answer.

“What? No!” The blonde took another step forward. Blue could feel the last wisps of the knight’s breath on her face as she moved closer.

“What...why would you think that?”

“It seems like you avoided me at every opportunity today.” She looked up at the knight.

“What? No, I…” She pursed her lips together tightly, brow furrowing in a look Blue recognized as her trying to decide what to day. The flames flashed yellow, giving the blonde an ethereal glowing appearance.

“I...I don’t know how I’m supposed to behave when you’re near…” She finally admitted. “Our stations demand a certain distance...as much as I wish to be close. I was only trying to keep that distance, for both our goods.” Yellow explained quietly to her.

“I suppose you’re right.” Blue agreed.

“I didn’t mean for it to come off as callous, Azurine. I do care for you, very much.” She mumbled, reaching out, a gloved hand wrapping around one of hers, making her jump at the still unfamiliar contact.

“No, it’s alright… I think I may have taken it too much to heart is all.” She squeezed the hand in hers back. “I suppose we need to talk about how best to…do this.” She made a vague motion between them and the knight chuckled nervously, cheeks darkening, the light from the great bonfire covering it up, but Blue could feel the nervous energy coming off Yellow.

“I suppose so…” She agreed.

“Perhaps later though? I hate to miss anymore of this then we have. She tugged the knight forward to stand beside her as they turned to watch the blaze, Blue wrapping her arm around Yellow’s.

She blinked down at the princess who only smiled back in answer.

“Later, yes.” She mumbled, gently tugging the younger woman closer.

#KnightAU #bellow diamond #yellow diamond #blue diamond #pink diamond #white diamond #steven universe #AU #fic

31 notes · View notes

glossgf · 6 years ago

Text

; rose garden dreams (m)

Pairing: Min Yoongi x reader, knight!yoongi x princess!reader

Genre: royalty au, forbidden love au, historical au, fluff, angst, smut

Words: 6,185

Summary: you, a princess not yet betrothed, and your knight, Yoongi, have fallen in love. But what happens when a prince asks for your hand in marriage? What will you and Yoongi do then...?

A/N: thank you @floralseokjin for helping me with this hhjvbhj <3

“Yoongi", you breathe out, “they’re so lovely". Your hand comes up to lightly touch one of the delicate petals.

“Here", you hear Yoongi shuffle and you turn to look in his direction. He kneels on the ground, dagger in hand before he removes one of the roses from the bush.

“Close your eyes", he whispers as you arch an eyebrow upward, a wondering smile on your face. You comply after he repeats his words, your eyes fluttering shut, the smile still on your face.

You feel Yoongi’s rough fingers lightly graze your cheeks before he moves on to gently caress your hair. He undoes your braids letting your hair down— your smile widens, my hair is like a bride’s, you think, your heart beating faster than before. He steps forward and leans in closer to you, still running his fingers through your hair. You feel his breath hit the side of your cheek which makes you blush as you think of how close he is to you.

He pulls your hair behind your ear, making sure the rose sits there before leaning down and whispering.

“There, even more lovely than before”. You feel his lips kiss just below your ear. The contact of his rough lips against your delicate skin causes you to gasp.

“Yo—Yoongi!”, you stutter but before you can say anything else his lips attach to your own. Your eyes open and widen in surprise before they flutter shut once more as you sink into his kiss.

Despite the roughness of his lips against yours, his kisses are sweet and gentle. His hand travels down your body to rest on your waist as yours come up to cup his face.

You kiss him back just as gently and slowly. Only here can Yoongi and you act like this, hidden away from everyone else, your only company being nature. At the castle Yoongi and you must act as expected— a princess and her knight.

You break away from the kiss but neither of you move away from each other; his hands are still wrapped around your waist, and yours still cup his face. You gaze at each other, as you catch your breaths, the blush across his cheeks matching your own.

You watch him as he closes his eyes and tilts his head back, the leaves casting shadows over his face. “_____”, your name leaves his lips in a soft murmur, “my dear heart”. He squeezes your waist— a gesture that he so often repeats, especially when in the castle.

He smiles at you then, a smile that is for you only, a smile that makes your heart swell. He removes one of his hands from your waist to place it over your own that cups his cheek. He brings it down and kisses the palm before you entwine your fingers with his.

You want to stay like this forever. Spend forever like this with Yoongi. But you both know that can not happen. You are a princess and he is your knight. You’re relationship cannot be— must not be— anything more.

“An array of colours— oh! Ones that flower all year long!”, you exclaim a hand coming up to cover your chest as you describe your dream rose garden to Yoongi.

You’re in the forest again. Yoongi sits, resting against a stone ruin. You’re laying down, your head resting on his lap as he lazily runs his fingers through your hair.

Yoongi chuckles above you, “ones that flower all year long? We’ll have to discover them first.”

You nod, “Of course there has to be some out there somewhere!”

Yoongi hums, “tell me again— about what our garden would look like.”

“Like the castle gardens but better!”

“Because it would be filled with roses?”

“Yes. It would be the most prettiest garden! Even when the petals start to shed everything would still be so beautiful...so perfect…”, your voice falls into a whisper as you close your eyes picturing your perfect rose garden.

Yoongi hums, abandoning your hair and instead delicately drawing circles on your exposed shoulder.

“Yoongi", you giggle, wriggling around in your position. “That tickles!” You huff, sitting up and facing an amused Yoongi.

“Awh, is my princess angry with me?”

You hush him. “Don’t call me that!”, you whine folding your arms across your chest. You hate when he calls you that when it’s just the two of you.

Yoongi laughs, prying your arms loose. He entwines both his hands with yours. “Love, smile! I shall give you all the roses in the world!”, he smiles at you urging you to do the same.

You sigh before you mirror his expression, gazing at him so that you can memorise it and think about it when at the castle.

“Yoongi, we should leave now. It’s getting late, the sun is setting.”, you remove your gaze from his face to instead focus on the array of colours that indicate the end of the day.

“I wish we could spend more time like this",you sigh, a wistful look adorning your face.

“Hey”, Yoongi notices your smile fall. “Smile again, we’ll spend more days like this!”. His smile widens in an attempt to make yours return. He understands what you really mean but that is something he wishes to ignore, at least ignore right now.

You release your right hand from his, waving your pinky in front of his face.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

With that he wraps his pinky around yours and squeezes.

Several days pass with you completing your duties as a princess and Yoongi completing his as a knight. You haven’t spent time together since he promised that day.

Falling onto your bed, you let out a frustrated sigh as you think about the interactions— or rather lack of— you had had with Yoongi today.

He had just exited the King’s quarters. You heard his footsteps echo through the hallway before you saw him, yet you knew it was him. You picked up your speed, lifting the skirt of your dress up as to not trip over the fabric.

As soon as he was near enough you call him.

“Yoon—”, but he brushes past you. You had stopped in your tracks mouth open before shaking your head and deciding that he simply didn’t hear you. You followed him and called him once more but again he ignored you and you watched him as he strided through the wooden doors.

You had decided to not let it bother you but as the day progressed Yoongi still ignored you. He would stay close by you but wouldn’t engage in any conversations you tried to start. He didn’t even wish you a goodnight before he left for his room.

A knock on your door interrupts your thoughts. You scurry off the bed hopeful that it’s Yoongi coming to apologize for acting such a way today. However, to your dismay it’s your maid, Mina, come to dress you for the night.

“Uh, Mina…”, you bite your lip, uncertain of what exactly it is you want to ask. Mina moves to your front adjusting the ribbons of your night dress, humming as a response.

“Uhm, is— do you know if Yoongi is unwell?” Perhaps his health is making him act in such a manner, you think.

She sighs continuing her adjustments. “You’re worried about him?” Mina knows about Yoongi and you, and even though she disagrees with it she has kept quiet about it.

“Ah, well, yes. He’s been acting...different all day. I thought that maybe he would be ill.”

Mina hums, thinking of a response. She had observed the way Yoongi had been acting towards you today and even though she doesn’t like the way he is going about it, she figures it is best for both you and him.

“Look, princess. You know how I feel about Yoongi and you”. She removes her hands from your dress and looks up at you, a sad smile adorning her face. “I believe Yoongi is doing the right thing. You understand this cannot be, yes?”

Your mouth is open but you can’t think of any words to say. You drop your head, nodding instead.

“I know that it hurts now but this is for the best. For both of you”. She kisses the crown of your head, an attempt to comfort you.

“Come dear, you should sleep now”. She accompanies you to your bed, which you gladly crawl into. You wish Mina a goodnight before she blows out the candles. Once you hear the door close you bury your face into your pillow, muffling your sobs.

“There”, Mina finishes placing your headdress on and steps back admiring your appearance. “You look beautiful dear.”

You gaze down at your blue dress as a knock sounds on your door. Shifting your body to face your door, you look up to see Yoongi enter. He quickly glances at you before clearing his throat.

“The King wishes to see you in his quarters", he says avoiding your eyes.

“Now?”, you tilt your head to the side, wondering what your father wishes to tell you.

Yoongi nods.

“Will you be accompanying me?”. Perhaps you can ask him why he has been acting coldly towards you recently.

He shakes his head, “He wishes to speak with you alone.” You frown, becoming worried as your mind races with the worst possible ideas you can think of.

“Is that all?”

Again he nods and you dismiss him, sighing once he’s left.

“Mina, has something happened to my father or mother?”

She shakes her head, “I have not heard of anything. I’m sure they just wish to see how you are. Go on, you should head over there now.”

You nod, leaving your room and making your way to your parents’ quarter's.

Pushing the doors open, you’re met with a hug from your mother. “That dress looks wonderful on you darling! Do you like it?”

“Dear, don’t suffocate our daughter. Bring her here”, you hear your father’s voice.

“Is everything okay? Yoongi told me you wished to see me.”, you say to your mother after she releases you from her hug.

“Yes dear. Everything is fine. Come over here, we have some exciting news to tell you.”, she takes your hand and leads you to your seat which faces your father.

“Exciting news?”, you repeat tilting your head to the side, an eyebrow raised.

“You remember Namjoon, yes?”, your father questions and your eyes light up. Is he coming here?, you think, excited at the thought of him, Yoongi and you together once again. Perhaps if he does come, Yoongi will act as before, you think hopefully.

“Well, he has asked for your hand in marriage, and your mother and I think it will be for the best. For the two kingdoms and for you.”

Your heart becomes heavy, marry Namjoon, you repeat the words in your head, a frown settling on your face.

“____, are you not happy with—.”

“It does not matter if she isn’t happy— although I do not see why she should be unhappy— it has already been settled. Besides, Namjoon is an admirable young man, a promising future king. She should be pleased that she will be marrying a man she is well acquainted with.”

“Father, it’s already been settled? Do I not get a say in who I will marry?”

“And who do you suppose you marry?”

Yoongi. “I, I…You’re my father, you should listen to your daughter’s wishes”, you shake your head. You know your father is right. Who else will you marry?

“As your father and king, I would think you would obey me.”, he raises his voice and you gulp.

“Dear, calm down. This is a lot for to take in.”, you watch as your mother places her hand on your father’s arm.

He sighs, “You are right. But you will marry Namjoon, ____. And I will hear nothing more about it until that day.”

With that you jump from your seat and walk out the doors, ignoring your calls from your mother. Your heart pounds against your chest.

Yoongi. You have to find Yoongi. You need to see him.

You lift the skirt of your dress up as you pick up your pace slightly, heading towards his room. Once there you storm through, not bothering to knock. But he’s not there. You search throughout the castle rooms, but to your dismay, he is nowhere to be seen.

Deciding to search outside, you discard your shoes at the castle doors. Your bare feet hitting the ground as you run to the one place where you think— you hope— he might be. Curling your fingers over the silk of your skirt, you lift it up higher, the weight slowing you down due to your heel less height.

“Yoongi!”, you shout, stopping and bending over to catch your breath. He’s there, he’s here. He turns at the call of his name, his eyes wide at your wild appearance.

“Yoongi…”, your voice falters as your bottom lip quivers.

“You knew?”, you cry out unable to hold back your tears anymore.

He steps closer to you, reaching forward, put you step back. You don’t want him to see you like this.

Yoongi drops his arms to his sides, his gaze settling on the floor.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…”, he murmurs, voice barely audible. “It was not my place to tell you.”, he shakes his head knowing that that’s not what you wanted to hear.

“But why have you been ignoring me? You could have acted the same way you always have!”. You shout. The way he’s been treating you is unfair, you think.

“Really? I could have acted just like before when I got told that you would be marrying someone else?!”, he raises his voice, nostrils flaring in anger, more so at himself than you.

Someone else. Your breath hitches as you repeat his words in your head.

“I ca— I cannot do this anymore.”, he whispers, head dropping down. He inhales deeply before bringing his head back up, remaining eye contact with you. His dull eyes focus on your tearful ones, his stare seeming empty. “We should have ended what we started a long time ago.”, he shakes his head, as if to correct himself. “No. We should have never started this at all.”

You watch him through your teary eyes, your eyelids feeling hot and a heaviness in your chest. He turns from you, stepping away from you and further into the forest. You decide to leave him be. He has made himself quite clear. He doesn’t want you anymore— he cannot have you anymore, not when you now belong to someone else.

You return to the castle, the aching of your heart increasing with each step you take. Your tears had ceased, for now, and you had managed to fix your appearance before entering your room where you find your mother and Mina deep in conversation.

“Oh, ____ dear, where have you been?”, your mother asks concerned.

You manage a smile to reassure her, “I was out in the gardens. I needed some time to think about what father told me.”

She nods, gesturing towards Mina, “I was just explaining to Mina.”

She gives you a sympathetic smile, “if you’re happy, then I’m happy, dear. Namjoon is a lovely man, I’m sure he will make you happy.”

Your mother nods, agreeing with Mina. “You may not love him now but I’m certain you will learn to as time progresses.”

Your smile falters ever so slightly at your mother’s words. “I’m sure I will.”

She smiles at your words, delighted that you seem to have accepted the news.

“I think you should rest for now. You have had a lot to think about this morning. I’ll have Mina call you down for lunch.”

With that they both leave you alone, your smile disappearing as you fall onto your bed. You bring your legs up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them. Shutting your eyes, you will yourself to sleep.

Each day that passes, is a day closer to your marriage. You had hoped that the heaviness in your chest would lessen as time moved on, especially since you had decided to treat Yoongi how he now treats you, but it hasn’t. It just becomes heavier.

Your interactions with Yoongi have been more or less non existent. The last conversation you had with him was one you wished to forget, but it was hard to do so. You would greet him in the morning, and everything else was kept short and professional. However, for some time he hasn’t been able to do that either. He had fallen ill, and had spent the last few days in bed recovering.

Everyday since then, you visited him, decorating his dark room with flowers from the gardens in order to brighten it up. You made sure he was asleep when doing this as you wanted to avoid having any conversations with him. Not because you did not want to speak to him— in fact quite the opposite, you longed to speak to him even if you were treating him unfairly— but because you were scared to speak to him.

Seeing him looking so frail and weak had added more pain on top of your already aching heart. Treating him the way you were was wrong, you understood that then, and you decided that you would speak to him before you left. You needed him to hear everything you had to say, hear everything you felt.

Thankfully, he had recovered yesterday, but you had decided against telling him then as Mina had informed you he would still be resting. That left today, your last day here, for tomorrow you will be travelling to your new home.

You had contemplated the whole day whether you should see him. Still contemplating, but that didn’t matter now because he had come to you.

You had thought it was Mina, come to pester you about going to sleep, but you were wrong.

“Mina, I told you I wo—”, you had started, turning to face her but you were cut off by being pulled into him. He buried his head in your shoulder, muttering ‘sorry’ over and over.

You stay like that for some time, feeling his hot tears run down your skin as he clutches at your waist. You hadn’t realised at first but now as you felt them wet your shoulder you wrapped your arms around him too. Burying your face against his chest, you wail his name, your own tears starting to fall.

You are unsure of how long you stay like that but when you feel him lift his head you grip onto him tighter.

“Please stay. Please…”, you plead against his chest, unsure whether he heard but hoping your tight grip would make him understand.

He squeezes your waist. “____, look at me.”, he murmurs, rocking you slowly as your tears continued to soak his chest.

You pull away, hands still clutching his chest as you look up at him through your teary eyes. His lips stretch into a smile, but it doesn’t reach his dark eyes which tears still fall from.

He takes your hand from his chest, entwining his fingers with yours.

“Yoongi, I do not want to be with Namjoon. I want— I want— .”, your gaze drops from his, your lip trembling as you feel more tears threatening to fall.

He hushes you. “Let’s not speak about that tonight. Tonight, you’re with me. For I am yours and you are mine. Even if just for one night…Even if we can’t spend forever together, I want to spend this last night with you. I want you, ____.”, he drops his hand from yours, cupping your cheek instead. “If you will have me.”

“Yoongi”, you breathe out. “I want you too.”, and with that his lips attach to yours. It happens so fast that your noses bump against each other. You giggle, your hot tears running into your mouth, as Yoongi pulls away murmuring ‘sorry’ over and over, kissing the tip of your nose again and again.

“Yoongi”, you whisper, cupping his cheek. You stare at each other once more before you lean in, tilting your head and meeting his lips. This is what you want, what you’ve always wanted. This is how it should be, two lovers kissing and touching each other.

He wraps his hands around your waist, pulling you closer whilst also pushing you against the wall. He wants to— needs to— feel more of you, taste more of you. You feel the cold stone wall press into your back. Your fingers tangle between the strands of his damp hair, pulling slightly as he moans into your mouth.

He lifts you up, the skirt of your night dress riding up your legs as you wrap them around his waist. You break away from the kiss, your breathing heavy. His glassy eyes are blown out, his eyelashes still slightly wet from his tears. You bring a hand just under his right eye, using your sleeve to wipe away the tears that have started to dry.

Neither of you speak as he guides you to your bed, placing you down on your sheets before climbing on top of you and settling between your legs. His eyes fall from your own to your parted lips. Your eyes squeezing shut as you await for what is to come, but it never does.

Opening your eyes, you see Yoongi staring down at you. He swallows hard before speaking.

“_____, are yo— should we…”. He’s unsure of what to say, his mind filled with thoughts of you.

You sit up causing him to follow. You make sure to remain eye contact with him as you take his hand and place it on your chest.

“Do you feel that Yoongi?”, you whisper, referring to your pounding heart. “Yoongi”, you breath out. “My heart, it beats for you. And for you only.”

He tilts his head back, taking in a deep breath as he tries to calm his own racing heart and thoughts.

“Are you— are you sure?”

You lower his hand so that it cups your breast. “Yoongi, I want you. I want all of you.”

His head drops down and his gaze lands on his hand which cups your clothed breast. He squeezes, causing you to gasp and a blush form across your cheeks.

He gulps, taking your free hand and placing it above his crotch. You feel his erection through his breeches and bite your bottom lip.

“All for me?”, you ask, smiling up at Yoongi, blush still as vibrant. His head falls forward, a soft moan leaving him as you gently squeeze his erection. His hair covers his eyes but you can still detect the hint of a blush forming on his face.

He buries his face in your shoulder, planting kisses there before travelling lower and stopping at your collarbone. His hands move up your waist before fumbling with the ribbon that holds your dress together.

“Wa— wait!”. You clasp your hand around his wrist stopping him from untying the ribbon.

“Can I take your shirt off first, please?”

He nods, removing his hands from you. Your fingers fumble with the buttons of his shirt. Once all the buttons are undone you place the palms of your hands on his still clothed chest, feeling how it moves with each inhale and exhale he takes. You curl your fingers around the cloth of his shirt and peel it off him, revealing his lean torso. A shudder travels up your spine as you feel his hot skin.

With his shirt off, you stand up from the bed turning to face Yoongi. You inhale deeply as your fingers come up to untie the ribbon holding your dress together. Your dress slips down, exposing your bare shoulders. You hold it up in place before meeting Yoongi’s eyes and continuing. You drop your arms to your sides, letting your dress fall too. It pools on the floor, revealing your bare self to Yoongi. You shut your eyes, swallowing hard, before you step out of your dress, your hand coming up to reach his.

He inhales sharply before taking your hand in his, bringing it to his lips and kissing your hot, smooth skin. He murmurs your name against your hand.

“____, my dear heart. You look so beautiful!”, he praises, his gaze travelling from your eyes, past the curve of your breasts, and lower down, only to travel back up and meet your eyes again.

You return to the bed laying in your previous position, the cold silk sheets a refreshing contrast to your hot skin. Yoongi settles between your legs once again. He leans forward, raking his fingers through your hair, before his lips meet yours.

This time he kisses you like all the other times before; gently and slowly. He licks your bottom lip and you part your own, allowing him to slip his tongue in. He swirls his tongue around yours, his fingers ghosting over your bare side.

He pulls away from your mouth, allowing you to catch your breath, and begins trailing kisses from your jawline to your cleavage. His kisses travel to the soft swell of your breast, warm tongue swirling over the sensitive bud. His fingers tracing circles around your other one. “Yoongi”, you murmur his name as he continues his actions.

He removes his mouth from your breast, gazing up at your face. Wetting his lips he asks, “how do you feel?”.

“I’m— I feel good", you whisper, eyes never leaving his. “That felt good…”, you mumble.

Yoongi’s eyes widen suddenly, the corners of his mouth pulled upwards. “It did?”. You nod returning his smile.

Dropping his gaze from you, he shifts on the bed slightly. His hand coming up and rubbing the back of his neck. “Um, so you— do you want to continue?”.

You cover your mouth with your hand— an attempt to stifle your giggles at his cuteness. The Yoongi you see before you now is one you you don’t remember ever seeing.

“Yoongi, look at me", he shifts his gaze to your sparkling eyes. “Give me your hand”, you reach up taking his hand in yours and kissing it. “My love! Of course I want to continue.”, you whisper.

He brings his face closer to yours, lightly tracing the outline of your lips with his finger before cupping your cheek. He presses his lips to yours, hard and fast, before continuing to leave open mouthed kisses down to your navel.

His hands rest on your inner thighs, gently pushing them open. A shudder travels up your spine as you feel his hot, shaky breath ghost over your skin as he uses his fingers to lightly trace circles on your hips.

His kisses come closer to your core, and you feel his tongue lick a stripe up your folds. You shudder and his hands grip your hips tight, pressing you into the bed as he hums lowly, tongue coming out to wash over your heat once again. You grip the sheets with one hand, holding your breath as the tip of his muscle glides across something sensitive. It feels good, and you can’t help the noise that leaves your lips. He freezes before repeating the action, eliciting another sweet like moan from you.

“Are you okay?” Yoongi murmurs, pulling away to look up at you, again rubbing circles on your hips.

You nod, a crooked smile forming as you reach for his cheek with your free hand, cupping the hot skin. He leans into your touch, eyes closing slightly as he exhales softly, and your heart jumps when you notice the shine around his upper lip. You. You’ve stained him.

“Yoongi,” you whisper, “please continue.”

His eyes flutter open, black and intense and he moves again, your palm dropping from his face. This time he works a little faster, letting his tongue curl against the spot that has you breathless. He seems to be enjoying it as much as you, throaty noises leaving him as you spread your legs wider, greedy for more.

It’s when your hand reaches for his locks with a whine, does he groan and give out, pulling away to look up at you with pleading eyes, strands of damp hair hanging in his face.

“I want you, please,” he begs. You jump a little when you feel a finger against your entrance, lightly tracing the swollen flesh.

“Please, let me have you now.”

You keen, hips rolling into his touch, the pad of his finger coated with your arousal. You can feel it. Everywhere. Your body thrums for him so bad it hurts. You want him too. You have never wanted anything more in your whole life.

“Have me, Yoongi,” you murmur, not bothering to clear your throat despite your words coming out broken. “Take what’s yours.”

He moves like lightning, arousal coating the inside of your thigh as he holds your leg open, falling against your body again, his mouth meeting yours. You taste yourself against his lips and you can’t help but let out a sigh, back arching as you feel his erection press against your pelvis. The hunger snarls in your abdomen.

He pulls away from you, hastily removing his breeches and undergarments, discarding them on the floor with your dress. You watch him return to his previous position above you. Shivers travel through your body as you think about how he will feel inside you. He aligns himself with your entrance before leaning his face towards yours. His shaky breath tickles the sensitive skin of your neck as he whispers against it.

“_____, my heart, you are so perfect.”

A shy smile forms on your face as you reach for his hand. He entwines his fingers with yours, resting your hands on the sheets.

“Is it okay if I put it in now?.”, he asks, biting his lip and looking up at you for approval. You nod, and he starts slowly pushing into you, your free hand grips his bicep, nails digging into his skin as your other squeezes his hand. He pauses, moaning as he adjusts himself to the feeling of you around him.

He leans forward, placing kisses all over your face to serve as a distraction, as he pushes himself further inside. He pulls his face away from you as he notices the tears that have trailed down the sides of your face.

“Does it— do you want me to stop?”, he asks, voice heavily laced with worry.

You shake your head. “No, I want you to continue. I— I’m…”. You bite your bottom lip, trying to hold back your tears. You shouldn’t be crying, you think, not when you’re with the man you love.

“Do not cry, ____, my love. Please. We should be happy. We are together now.”, he squeezes your hand, using his free one to wipe away your fresh tears.

“How can you tell me to not cry when you are doing just that?”. You whisper, smiling up at him, your own free hand coming to wipe away his own tears.

He chuckles, kissing the palm of your hand that wipes at his tears. “Then we shall make them tears of happiness.”

“I love you, Yoongi.”, you breath out. You expect he already knows but you need him to hear how you feel.

He gently brushes the hair from your face, “and I love you.” He buries his face into the crook of your neck, kissing along the sensitive skin.

He doesn’t move for some time, and you move beneath him slightly, hoping he would catch on. Taking that as his signal, he starts to pull out and push on slowly.

You grip his hips, pulling him closer to yourself as you arch your own into him, both gasping as he slides all the way into you.

He places a hand on your pillow, steadying himself as he looks down at you.

“Am I hurting you?”, he whispers.

You shake your head, replying softly. “No. At least not as much now.” You run your fingers up and down his back.

He pulls out, only to move slowly inside you again. Soft moans of pleasure leaving you, which increases his own, every sense of his heightened.

“Yoongi”, you murmur his name as he continues his movements, slightly faster than before. The feelings of discomfort ebbing as feelings of pleasure slowly take over instead. He removes his hand from yours to rest against your waist, his lips coming to meet yours once more, desperate to feel more of you.

You kiss him back just as intently and desperately, hoping that he understands just how he makes you feel. You know that what you’re doing is wrong, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Not in this moment, for tonight you are Yoongi’s, and Yoongi’s alone.

Pulling away from your lips, his eyes fixate on you, taking in your appearance; how your hair is sprawled across the pillow, how your eyes are red, your lashes still wet from your tears, yet how they glow with such adoration and love— for him. All for him. He memorises it all, before squeezing his eyes shut and picturing you in his mind. He must not forget, he will not forget, he will forever remember the image of his lover during the first and last night he spent with you.

Your name falls from his lips, over and over, as he quickens his pace. His nails dig into your side, and you watch him as he bites his bottom lip, head tilting back.

The once steady rhythm he had set begins to falter, his uneven breaths becoming heavier. You take his hand in yours peppering kisses across his skin. A soft grunt leaves him as you feel warmth fill you.

He rests on top of you as he catches his breath. He removes himself from inside of you, sitting up and bringing you with him. His fingers come up to brush the strands of damp hair from your face, before he cups your cheek. Your eyes flutter shut, as a smile adorns your face.How long I’ve waited to see that smile again, he thinks silently. With Yoongi you feel complete.

He kisses your forehead before whispering softly, “we should get you dressed.”

He steps off the bed, picking up your night dress from the floor.

“Can you stand?”, he asks, taking in your tired appearance.

You nod, lifting yourself from the bed. You lose your balance but Yoongi’s quick enough to grab you and position you upright.

“Okay?”, he chuckles lightly, a blush forming on your cheeks. “Arms up.”

You lift your arms up as Yoongi places the holes of your dress over your head. He pulls down the fabric so that it sits on you correctly, lacing up and tying the ribbon so that it doesn’t hang from you.

Sitting back on your bed you watch Yoongi as he dresses himself. “Yoongi", you say softly. “Stay with me, please.”

He nods, returning to your bed.

“Promise?”, you yawn.

“Promise.”

He pulls back the covers waiting for you to get under before he follows, his arms wrapping around your waist as he kisses the top of your head.

“How do you feel?”, he whispers, drawing circles over your clothed skin, helping you relax.

“I feel content.”, you murmur into his chest, feeling the rhythm of his heartbeat relax you further. “How do you feel?”

You feel him smile against your head before he answers. “I feel…”, he pauses trying to think of the right word. “Whole. My love, you make my heart feel whole!”. He kisses the top of your head again, gently squeezing your waist. You smile against his chest, pleased with his answer.

Neither of you speak after that. He watches you as your breathing slows and you drift of into sleep, wishing that you’ll have nothing but wonderful dreams. He holds you long after you have fallen asleep, he can’t seem to let go. He wants to stay like this forever, stay in your embrace forever. But he understands that that he cannot.

He slowly and gently removes himself from you so as not to wake you. He looks at your peaceful, sleeping figure once more before kissing your cheek. “Goodbye, my dear heart.”. And with that he blows out the candles, leaving your room to return to his.

The next time you see Yoongi is when you stand in front of your carriage. He kept his promise, you think, he’s going to stay with you. You enter the carriage, sitting next to him, smiling to yourself, a blush forming as you think back to last night. A shy smile of his own on his face as he asks you to close your eyes.

You comply, feeling his hands fiddle with your headpiece. Once he tells you to open them, you look at him, an eyebrow raised in confusion. You bring your hand up, to feel around your headpiece. And you gasp, your smile returning as you feel the delicateness of flower petals— a rose.

#thanks jordan love you!!#yoongi fanfic #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst #yoongi smut #bts fanfic #yoongi scenarios #bts scenarios #cerisehope:writings

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little-inkstone · 7 years ago

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A Fate Sealed with String Part 11

Summery: After meeting the man her parents have arranged for her to marry, Belle decides she’ll take her own fate into her hands. Literally, with the help of a charmed piece of thread that will lead her to her true love.

AN: I hope you all enjoy this chapter!

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten

AO3

Too soon Rumple had to leave for the front again. Belle knew it was selfish, but she wished they could just shut out the rest of the world. They could spend lazy days in his bed talking about all the feelings they’d been too afraid to give voice to before in between bouts of love making. In a perfect world they could spend as much time as they wanted like that, but Belle knew Rumple was their best chance at beating the ogres back. That truth didn’t help lessen the sting when she said goodbye to him. They parted with one last kiss, her hand slipping inside of his jerkin to brush the string that had first connected them. He made his promises that he’d return as soon as he could, and that when he did the war would be over. Then he was gone.

Belle wrapped her arms around herself at the gates of the castle as the heat from his body pressed against hers began to disappear. She didn’t even have the opportunity to stare after him as he rode away; instead he had whisked himself away in a cloud of golden smoke. Letting out a sigh she turned back to the castle; she wasn’t getting anything done just standing there and everyone needed to do their part. In the courtyard of the castle they had set up tents and beds for the people that had lost their home. There were so many of them that they had begun to spill into the garden, and most of the castle’s staff were at their wits end. As a princess Belle had never been taught practical skills like cooking or healing. But she did what she could by handing out supplies and sitting with the sick.

The waves of fleeing refugees needed to be fed and clothed and in some cases they needed help finding missing family members. More than once Belle ended up with a little child on her hip, tears streaking their pudgy cheeks as she looked for their parents

Some of the stories Belle heard as she worked among the refugees made her stomach sink with worry. It wasn’t just fear for Rumple, although her fear for him couldn’t be ignored, but for the other soldiers and knights that were risking their lives as well. Rumple had magic, but that could only do so much to protect him. If he didn’t see an attack coming then he would be just like any other man. Belle tried not to think about all the horrible things that could happen to the man she loved. If she did then she wouldn’t be able to get out of bed in the morning. Instead she redoubled her efforts to hand out supplies as more and more people fled to the safety of the castle walls.

“Excuse me, your Majesty.” A soft voice called, breaking her out of her thoughts.

Belle turned and smiled softly at the boy standing in front of her. If she had to guess she’d say he was about thirteen or fourteen with shaggy brown hair and eyes that were oddly familiar. His clothes had seen better days and his face was smudged with soot and dirt. Belle made a mental note to find him something better to ware and to make sure he got a bath, or at least a damp rag to clean himself with.

“What can I do for you, young man?” Belle asked sweetly.

The boy shifted and ducked his head shyly as she looked at him and then looked up and gestured to the little girl’s hand he was holding. “They said that the princess could help find her parents.”

“Oh course I’ll help” Belle said. She kneeled down so she was at eye level with the little girl and smiled as kindly as she could. “Hello, what’s your name?”

After an hour of looking the little girl was reunited with her parents and Belle was happy to see the family made whole. The sight made Belle’s heart ache; someday, if fate was kind, she could have that with Rumple. They hadn’t had time to discuss the future or marriage, but she hoped that their new understanding would lead to them spending forever together. Rumple had said he wanted to stay with her after all. She wasn’t the kind of person to trap Rumple into marriage because of the night they had spent together. But Belle knew that he was the kind of man that would ask to marry her even if they weren’t true love. The reminder of what they shared eased the pain she was feeling at being separated from him. He would return and they would be together. Until then she had a job to take care of.

Turning back to the boy that had brought the little girl to her attention she smiled.

“Do you need help finding your family?” Belle asked.

He shrugged and ducked his head. “I’ve no family to find, your Majesty.”

“Oh,” She replied softly.

That explained his unkempt appearance and ragged clothing. There was no one looking out for him. Now that she took a closer look at him she realized he was rather thin under the dirt covering his face. He looked up at her were soulful brown eyes and she felt her heart clench. No child should have to suffer the way he clearly had. Even before the horrors of the ogre wars he had been alone and no doubt scared. Not to mention he would have had to deal with the very real and pressing issue of hunger and shelter. Yet despite all he had been through he was still kind enough to take the hand of a poor lost child and bring her to someone that could find her family. His hardships hadn’t made him cruel or harsh; instead somehow kindness had endured in his heart. Perhaps it was silly of her, considered she had just met him, but she wanted to take care of him. Even if it was just making sure he got a good meal and a bath.

“Thank you for your help, Princess.” He said, breaking Belle from her thoughts. The boy bowed and made to leave.

“Wait,” Belle requested. “Since you don’t have anyone, why don’t you let me help you?” She asked with a kind smile.

“I couldn’t ask anything of you, your Majesty.” He replied timidly. “I’ve already taken up too much of your time.”

“Nonsense, what is a Princess good for if she can’t take care of her people?” Belle said briskly. “We’ll get you all cleaned up and then some food in your belly.”

Once Belle set her mind to something there was no arguing with her, and the poor boy was soon swept away from courtyard and into the castle. There were a few maids that weren’t busy and she recruited them to draw a fresh bath and find him some clothes that no one would miss. While her guest bathed she went down to the kitchens to find him something that would be rich enough to nourish him, but not so much that it would make him sick. The kitchens were busy cooking foods that could feed a large group of people, stews and full pig roasts. It was easy for Belle to grab some wonderfully smelling fresh bread and a bowl of hot broth with vegetables and chunks of hearty meat.

As she returned to the upper floors of the castle with tray in hand she frowned and bit her tongue as she passed Lady Cora. She hadn’t told her parents what she had tried, but now Belle was beginning to wish she had. Every time they crossed paths the woman would give her a knowing smirk that set Belle’s teeth on edge.

“It must be trying times when the Princess has to fetch and carry like a common maid.” Cora simpered.

“We all must make sacrifices in this time of need.” Belle replied with a tight smile. “I’m doing my part; what good are we nobles if we can’t protect our people?”

Her eyes narrowed at Belle’s word, a sneer pulling at her lips. “Well, that might be the case, but no noble man will want a woman that will service just anyone.”

“Then perhaps it’s for the best that Lord Rumplestiltskin and I have agreed to wed. And he already knows I’m fully capable of servicing him.” She said, her smile turning sly.

Two spots of red appeared on Cora’s cheeks as she clenched her fists in anger, but Belle didn’t bother staying to hear her retort. Instead she brushed past her with her chin held high and a satisfied smile pulling at her lips. This wasn’t the end of her strange skirmish with Lady Cora, but for now she felt as if she’d managed to win this round. Soon she’d have to deal with Cora fully. That woman couldn’t be allowed to stay in the castle to cause more trouble, but for now she had someone that needed her attention more then Cora.

Belle found her spur-of-the-moment ward waiting for her in a warm sunlit drawing room where she set the food she’d brought in front of him. Even the mere idea of a princess serving a peasant was something that would make any of the women at court faint from shock and then set their tongues wagging. No doubt Lady Cora would be the worst of them all. But Belle didn’t care what they would think. Especially when the boy fell on the food she brought him like he hadn’t seen a proper meal in weeks. The troubling part was that Belle knew it was entirely possible that it was true. She pushed the thought and focused on the here and now.

The clothes that had been found for him were too large for his thin frame, but they were clean and would be warmer than the rags he’d been in before. His hair was still dripping from his bath and now that his face was clean she couldn’t shake that he looked even more familiar than before. It was the colour of his eyes and the tilt of his lips when he smiled at her. Something was pulling at the back of her mind, but every time she reached out to take hold of it, it turned into mist and slipped between her fingers. There was a possibility he was the bastard of one of the nobles that served her father, but at the same time that didn’t make sense. It would be foolish to believe that none of the lords or knights had dallied and produced a child out of wedlock. But in most cases that child would be taken care of in some way. This boy seemed healthy enough; it was odd that he hadn’t been recruited for a trade yet.

Too late Belle realized she was staring at him intently when he looked up at her and then ducked his head nervously. The action added to the feeling of familiarity, but she still couldn’t tell where she’d seen it before.

“Have I displeased you, your Majesty?” He asked weakly.

“Oh, no, not at all. I just realized I’ve been terribly rude. I haven’t asked your name.” She said with a gently smile. The poor child was skittish; she didn’t need him thinking she was mad at him.

“I’m Baelfire, your Majesty.” He replied with a shy smile.

Belle tilted her head to the side as her heart clenched. “Baelfire?”

“Yes, your Majesty.” Baelfire said, running his spoon along the bottom of his bowl.

“That’s a wonderful name.” She replied with a smile that was a little too bright. Standing she patted his shoulder. “If you need anything don’t hesitate to call for a maid; I’ll be right back.”

“O-okay.” He said as he watched her leave.

Belle closed the door of the drawing room and leaned against it as her head swam with shock and confusion. This boy must be Rumple’s lost son; there was no other explanation.

#rumbelle #rumbelle fic #A Fate Sealed with String

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liv-andletdie · 7 years ago

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@ultrafrank23 how does 2 babies sound?

I LIVE for Fluffy TP Zelink! However this took me WAY longer than I wanted thanks to a complete re-write halfway through, too many ideas I wanted to work in, and a pause to work on my other fic. Also there's not even a plot it's more like a collection of cute shorts. But it’s here now! Sorry for the long wait.

Ao3 link [x]

The Queen of Hyrule was rudely awoken by the wailing cries of her newborn. The screams echoing around the old stone walls of the royal chambers, the cold night air whistling past the windows. Zelda threw the blankets off at the first piercing sob, the action awakening her husband.

“Love?” he said, his voice thick with sleep. Link rubbed his eyes, trying to wake himself up “where are you going?”

“It’s Tina” Zelda replied, pushing herself out of bed. The feel of cold stone against her feet causing her to jump slightly. Link seemed to notice his daughter’s cry, pushing the blanket off of himself.

“I’ll go” he said, letting out a loud yawn “you rest. It’s my turn anyway” Zelda rolled her eyes, pushing him back onto the bed.

“You said that last time. It’s my turn now” She threw the blanket over his chest, ignoring the look he gave her. “Besides, if she needs feeding you’ll have to wake me up anyway” Link opened his mouth to reply, before promptly shutting it when he realized she had him beat.

“Fine” he sighed, letting himself settle back against the pillows “but next time it’s my turn” Zelda held back a giggle at his annoyed pout, moving to press a kiss against the tip of his nose. He seemed pacified at that, letting a small smile show on his lips.

Another wailing cry cut through the air, Zelda turned her head at the noise, her heart going out to the new Crown Princess. Link took her hand and pressed a gentle kiss to her knuckles, his eyes telling her silently to go to their child.

The Crown Princess, Augustine Zelda Marie Hyrule, lay in her cot screaming. Cushioned by white linen and pale blue wool. She’s beautiful, Zelda thought, even when her face is red and scrunched up from crying. That crying stopped once Zelda held her in her arms.

“You just wanted a little cuddle didn’t you?” She asked, her voice low and light. Augustine looked up at her, sky blue eyes like her father, taking in shapes and colours but not objects. A pale face, brown hair, and a pink smile all meant Mummy. “It’s okay, I won’t tell. Your secret is safe with me my darling girl”

Zelda presses a soft kiss against where a heavy crown will rest later. But for now, cradled in her arms, the next Zelda to take the throne is simply Tina. Free of all responsibilities and expectations.

She bounces her softly in her arms, humming her ancient lullaby. The sound of rustling sheets behind her draw her attention.

Link was sitting upright in the bed, the blankets smoothed out beside him, a content smile on his face. He didn’t speak but his eyes said it all. Zelda felt her cheeks warm slightly at the look of adoration he gave the two of them.

He’d been so excited when she’d told him she was expecting. She remembered clearly how he had lifted her from the ground, spinning her around in his joy. He’s laid gentle, almost terrified, hands against her stomach. Uttered prayers of thanks and protection for the two most important people in his life.

He patted the pillow next to him, a silent invitation. Zelda smiled, holding Augustine closer to her chest. She made her way along the freezing stone floors, the cold biting at her toes. Everything is so cold now she thought to herself, noting how even the satin sheets stung through her nightgown

Link pulled her close to him, resting her head on his shoulder as he held her from behind. He kissed the top of her head, glancing down at the precious bundle in his wife’s arms.

“Did she need feeding?” he asked, running a hand up and down her arm, feeling her skin warm under his touch. Zelda shook her head, gaze fixed on Augustine as she settled back to sleep. “What did she need then?”

“I can’t tell” Zelda whispered, careful not to wake her baby. “I promised I wouldn’t” She felt Link smile into her hair, a soft laugh warming her heart.

“Okay don’t tell me” he relented, sleep returning to his voice. He had to be up early, she knew, The Knight initiates needed training and he didn’t trust anyone else to do it. Something about securing a safer kingdom for the children of Hyrule. It was admirable, if tiring, work

“Get some sleep Link” she said, turning her head to press a light kiss against his cheek, “I’ll make sure Tina settles in her cot. You rest”

“I’m fine” he mumbled “I’ll put Tina down you rest” Zelda rolled her eyes, at this rate he was likely to drop the baby with how exhausted he was.

“Link, I’ll put her to bed. Tell her you love her so I can move” Link pushed himself off of the head board, bringing his head down to where Augustine lay in her mother’s arms.

“I love you” he whispered, pressed a kiss to her little head, “I love you, my little princess”

---

Link wiped the sweat from his brow, the hot summer sun beating down on his skin. Training in the summer was always difficult, when the weather got warmer his weapons seemed to get heavier, his clothes stuck to him more making it hard to move.

He dropped down on the bench next to the training grounds, taking the moment to catch his breath. He looked out over the sea of knights and soldiers, brave men and women working and training tirelessly to keep Hyrule safe. They had improved drastically in the years since the invasion. And since Tina was born he’d been working day and night to make sure that the army didn’t slack in their efforts.

“Daddy Daddy!” a young voice called out, causing the soldiers in the yard to stop what they were doing. An entire army moved in synch to watch the Crown Princess race across the sand of the sparring grounds and into the waiting arms of her father, The Prince Consort.

“Hello my Princess” he said, sweeping her up in his arms, her happy childish cries echoing across the yard. “What are you doing here?” he asked, settling her weight on his hip. Augustine giggled, holding onto his shoulder so she wouldn’t fall.

“Mama said to come get you” She sang “We’re going on a picnic!” Her eyes shone with unconcealed joy! She was practically shaking with excitement and Link found himself unable to hold back his own smile.

“A Picnic?” he said, fake surprise coloured his tone but Augustine was too excited to notice. She only nodded frantically, Link was scared her hat was going to fly off. He reached up, securing it soundly over her hair. She giggled, reaching to mess with his hands.

The sound of a hundred feet echoed across the yard. Men and Women coming to attention all around them. Link looked over his daughter’s head to see what caused the sudden change in his army.

Zelda, Queen of Hyrule, strode through the training grounds. The midmorning sun glinted against her golden brown hair, the white ribbons tied around her braids reflected against her face giving her an ethereal glow. Her long purple dress floated behind her as she walked. Not for the first time, Link was caught by her beauty. I’ve married a goddess

“Look it’s Mama” he said, turning his body so Augustine could see Zelda walking towards them. Augustine reached out, her hands grabbing at air in an attempt to make Zelda walk faster.

“Mama!” she cried as Zelda got closer “Daddy’s gonna come picnic with us” Link relinquished his hold on his daughter as Zelda took her in her arms. Balancing the child on her hip she smiled, her eyes lighting up with Augustine’s infectious excitement.

“Well that’s wonderful. Daddy needs a break don’t you think?” Tina nodded and Zelda turned to look at Link, a winning triumphant smile on her face.

Oh I see He thought, watching as his wife tried to balance his overactive daughter on her hip She’s trying to get me to stop working… well… I suppose I can take a break for one day.

“Give me time to wash up” He said, leaning in to press a kiss to Zelda’s cheek “Then I’ll meet you two in the stables”

Zelda nodded, moving to return the kiss. Augustine swung in her mother’s arms, desperate to get moving. She pulled on Zelda’s sleeves and hair, and yet the Queen remained unaffected by her daughter’s actions.

“Come on” she whined, ignoring the looks Link and Zelda were giving each other, “Daddy smells he has to have a bath”

Link let out a laugh, stepping back and bowing to his Queen. “I’ll see you in the stables” he said picking up his sword and heading towards the bathrooms.

---

True to his word, Link met them in the stables. Their horses already saddled and waiting, their lunch already packed and stored away safely in their saddlebags along with blankets. Zelda was already atop her horse, Augustine waiting for Link to ride with her. She’d start her riding lessons in a few years, at five years old they feared she would be too young.

“Where have you been?” the little Princess demanded, her arms crossed stubbornly over her chest. Link held back a small laugh at his daughter’s act, kneeling down so he was eye level with her.

“You said I smelled, I had to get clean so I wouldn’t be all stinky” Augustine let out a giggle at his words, her fake annoyance fading away. Link lifted her, placing her atop Epona, before moving to sit behind her on the saddle. He pressed his ankles into Epona’s flank and the small family were off, racing towards Hyrule field and their picnic.

They found a spot in the shade of a tree, far enough from the bustling noise of Castle Town to relax, but close enough to be under surveillance from the Royal Guard. Link set the blankets out as Zelda laid out the food. Augustine was lost in her own little world, running through the thick grass and playing with the bugs she found.

“Augustine” Zelda called out once everything was laid out. She watched the grass for any sign of her daughter, stifling a sigh of relief as her head popped up from the long grass, small streaks of dirt marking her cheeks. “Come over here”

The Princess ran over to where they were seated, her hat coming loose, long strands of blonde hair falling across her face. She fell into Zelda’s arms, loud breathless giggles colouring the air. Zelda wiped the dirt from her face, pulling back her hair and replacing her hat.

“There you go my darling girl” she cooed “doesn’t that feel better? Nice and tidy” Augustine relaxed under the attention, smiling as her mother played with her hair. Link pulled a plate out of his pack, selecting different fruits and cheeses from the assortment provided. He left the plate next to Zelda for Augustine to snack on while her mother worked.

The three sat in relaxed silence, just listening to the sounds of the birds in the distance. Link laid down on the blanket, having eaten his full. He could hear Zelda singing softly as Augustine stole grapes and berries from her plate. What did I do to deserve such happiness? He wondered reaching a hand out to brush against Zelda’s ankle.

“Daddy? Are you sleeping?” Augustine asked crawling over the blanket to poke him in the cheek.

“I was” he responded, keeping his eyes shut to the bright sunlight. “Mama’s singing made me feel sleepy” He could imagine Zelda’s joking pout, her hand coming to rest against her heart in mock shock.

“Don’t blame me just because you’re being lazy” She said, throwing a grape at his head. It hit his nose causing him to sit up in shock. Zelda let out a laugh at his bewildered expression, his mouth hanging open his eyes wide.

“Very funny” he pouted, moving to lie back down on the blanket, his hands cradling his head.

“It was actually, you pull the most amazing faces my love” he tried to ignore the way her laugh set butterflies loose in his stomach. He moved his hand back to her ankle, giving the skin there a soft pinch which caused her to squeak.

Augustine watched her parents in abstract confusion, while she didn’t understand the joke or what her mother found funny, she had to admit Daddy made some silly faces. But soon she began to grow bored of sitting and listening to them talk, the long grass looked fun to run through, the trees looked like they wanted to be climbed.

“Daddy” she demanded, poking his cheek again “play with me”

“I’m sleepy Princess, let me have a nap first then I’ll play with you” he replied, fighting back a yawn. Augustine’s little pout broke his heart, he couldn’t say no to her when she looked like that I blame Zelda he cursed she does the same thing He was about to will himself into wakefulness when Zelda spoke breaking the spell.

“Daddy’s tired” she said reaching behind her for her saddle pack. Link knew she had packed books in there to read in the sunshine, she was never one to pass up an opportunity for learning. “Let him nap, then he’ll take you on a ride with Epona. Won’t you Daddy?”

Link nodded, locking eyes with his daughter. “I promise” he said crossing his heart. Augustine looked crestfallen, eyes tracing the shapes and patterns woven into the blankets. She’d be bored out of her mind with Daddy napping and Mama reading.

“I wish I had a little brother or sister” she mumbled, causing Zelda to almost drop her book in shock. “Then I wouldn’t have to wait for Daddy to stop napping, I could play all day” Zelda marked the page in her book, setting it to the side.

“Augustine” she cooed, holding her hand out to the little girl “why don’t you go and find those bugs you were looking at before? Miss Agitha lent you that book on bugs remember? I can help you find out which one is which”

The little Princess seemed to perk up at that idea, getting to play in the dirt AND learn with Mama! It seemed to good to be true. “Okay!” she cried getting up and running into the grass before Zelda could change her mind.

Zelda watched her daughter run around, bugs momentarily forgotten as she just enjoyed the freedom of running through the field. Link’s voice broke her from her thoughts, his soft questioning tone causing her to look at him.

“How come you ain't playing in the grass with her? You used to love that. Are are not feeling well?” Zelda felt herself blush at his concern, shaking her head shyly. She shifted so she was closer to him, her hand resting over his heart. The steady thump thump thump was reassuring and comforting under her palm.

“I’m alright” she said “But… what Tina said…. About wanting a little brother or sister… well, she might get her wish sooner than she realizes”

Zelda didn’t hold back her joyful laugh at his expression, eyes wide and smile shining. His heart raced under her fingertips.

---

The Prince of Hyrule was born in the early spring. He was small and quiet, much weaker than his sister had been. Julius Russell Daphnes Hyrule, the second child of Queen Zelda Antoinette Harkinian Hyrule, was rumored to be too weak to last till the summer.

Zelda clung to her son for months, watching over him every second of everyday. Link feared it would drive her mad, that the goddesses would remain deaf to her silent prayers. He kept Augustine away, scared of upsetting her if the worse were to pass.

The Priest from the castle sanctuary came daily. He tried to convince Zelda to let go, to let the baby Prince sleep. But she refused, nursing and caring for her tiny son. Link began to stand guard, to turn the Priest away, to let Zelda and Julius rest together.

Summer came and went, and soon winter was spreading her frozen talons across the land.

The Prince lived, getting stronger everyday. He was as silent as his father and as still as his mother, he lacked the boundless energy of his older sister. And yet he lived.

Augustine adored her brother. She spent every free second with him, shaking his rattles and singing the songs her father taught her. Julius always smiled more in his sister’s company. Link would often say that she shared her strength with him, Zelda didn’t seem to think it was far fetched.

As Julius reached his first birthday, Augustine passed her sixth. Her excitement for her brothers party grew with each passing day.

“I think Julie would like chocolate cake!” she cried wanting to have her say “It’s sweet like him!” Link had laughed at that, knowing full well chocolate was Tina’s favourite. He played along, watching as Zelda playfully rolled her eyes at the two of them.

“I agree” he said, bouncing Augustine on his knee “Chocolate is the perfect dessert” He felt Tina smile at him, pride shining behind her big blue eyes at his support. She’d stopped wearing her hat, letting her long hair fall in braids down her back like her mother. Link enjoyed playing with his daughter’s hair, braiding and unbraiding the fine golden locks. The action always helped to calm her down, to relax the overexcitable Crown Princess.

Zelda held Julius close to her chest, listening to his quick even breaths as he slept. She sat at her desk, the prince held in a sling over her heart so she could work. Listening to Augustine and Link agree on cake flavours and what kind of sweets should be served, she made notes to give to Chef.

“What else do you think Julie would like at his party?” she asked, a hand coming up to rub her son’s back gently. Augustine seemed to think seriously about that, bringing a hand to her chin, her tongue sticking out in concentration. Zelda bit back the urge to tell her to tuck her tongue away, such behaviour was unbecoming of a future monarch.

“I think he would like it if everyone wore green!” Augustine cried, practically leaping out of Link’s lap. “It’s his favouritest colour!” Link chuckled lightly behind her, catching Zelda’s eye.

“Why do you think that?” he asked, unbraiding her hair again. Augustine looked proud of herself, holding her back straight and throwing her chin out in an attempt to look serious and smart.

“Julie always smiles more when I wear green” She said “he waddles faster when he sees me and the gardens make him happy. And Daddy wears green so Julie’s gotsta like it!”

Zelda leaned forward, tickling her daughter’s nose with the tip of her feather quill, causing her to giggle loudly and almost wake the prince from his nap.

“I think he smiles more because he’s happy to see his big sister” Zelda said moving to tickle Augustine’s chin. “But if you think everyone should wear green then we’ll make everyone wear green”

Augustine’s smile lit up the room, her excitement for her brother’s party bringing joy to both Link and Zelda. She bounced up and down lightly on her father’s knee, happy that her ideas were being listened too. She was going to make this the best birthday ever!

Julius shifted in his sling, his sister’s happiness rousing him from his sleep. He let out a cry causing Zelda to pull him from the sling and bounce him on her knee. Augustine shifted off of Link’s lap, desperate to see what her little brother was crying at.

She raced around the desk to stand next to Zelda’s leg as her mother pressed kisses against Julius’s head. His crying quieted down, the nose only serving to show he was awake, as he looked around the room with wide and curious eyes. Augustine reached over Zelda’s lap, trying to tickle her baby brother’s toes. He seemed to notice his big sister, letting out a happy gurgle at the sight of her smiling face.

“Do you want to hold him?” Zelda asked. Augustine looked at her with a mixture of shock and awe

“I can hold him?” she asked, amazed and scared at the prospect. For almost a year Julius had been held exclusively by Zelda and Link, Augustine had only been able to play with him when he was placed on the floor or after he started crawling.

Zelda nodded, lifting Julius from her lap and kneeling on the floor next to her daughter. She could tell Augustine was nervous about holding him, scared that she would drop him. Link shifted in his chair to get a better look at the three of them.

“Don’t worry” Zelda said, holding out her son, “I’ll tell you exactly how to hold him so you won’t drop him. Okay?” Augustine nodded back, holding her arms out to support her baby brother. With steady hands Zelda lowered Julius into her arms, taking care that his head was well supported in his sister’s elbow.

Augustine looked down at her brother, listening to his happy squeaks and giggles. He knew a few words, mostly “Mama” and “Dada”, Augustine was hopeful that it would be her name he would learn next. She’d tried teaching him before, even though Link had explained to her that “Augustine” was a difficult word for a baby to say. But she had faith that Julius would be as wise as Mama.

“Hello” she cooed, giggling as he reached for her long braids. “Hello Julie, what’s my name?” Julius looked at her, her braids forgotten as he listened to her soft lilting voice. “It’s Augustine, can you say Augustine?” she asked, bouncing him slightly as she’d seen Zelda do before. Link moved from his chair, coming to kneel beside his wife.

“Tina” he said “It’s a long name, he’s not even a year old yet” Link watched as Augustine shook her head, little Julius giggling in her arms delighted with the way her braids swung in front of her.

“No, he can do it I know he can” she said, remaining stubborn and steadfast. She looked down at Julius, smiling and trying again “Aw-gus-teen” she sounded out. Julius giggled at her, his mouth moving to try and learn the strange sounds she was making.

“Tina” Link said again, shifting on his knees so he was closer to the two of them. “Maybe an easier word? Something short might be a better place to start?”

Julius listened to his dad, the small word he’d used to refer to his sister sounded funny to the infant. He began to move his mouth, trying to speak like his father.

“Tee...teenah”

---

Augustine wiped the sweat from her brow, the hot summer sun beat down against her skin. Despite her discomfort the Princess always enjoyed riding in the sun. She’d been given a horse for her seventh birthday, one of Epona’s foals which she’d named Sleipnir. Link had been giving her lessons for three years and in that time she had improved greatly.

Looking down at her handkerchief, a gift from Julius, she lamented her brother’s young age. It would be two more years until he would be taught to ride, two more years of waiting for the young Princess. Julius didn’t seem to mind being stuck indoors however, he actually seemed to prefer it.

The Prince would often spend the long days at his mother’s side just watching her work or practicing his embroidery. Sometimes he would take strolls in the garden with either Link or Zelda, but for the most part he was content to sit and read to himself while his sister studied or went riding.

“You alright Tina?” Link asked realising that his daughter had stopped behind him. He was taking her on a ride around the Castle Walls, “getting some exercise” was his excuse, but Tina saw right through it. He just doesn’t want to be stuck inside like Mama and Julie

“I’m okay Daddy” she said, leaning forward to scratch between her mount’s ears. Sleipnir let out a happy whinny at the touch, his ears flicking back and forth. “I just wish Julie could come with us”

Link led Epona back to where the young Princess had stopped, his shoulders sagging slightly. “He’ll learn to ride soon enough. Anyway I’m sure if you just asked him he’d love to come” “But he can’t ride” She challenged, fingers tracing over the uneven threads of her handkerchief. It had been one of Julius’ first projects, Zelda had led him through it step by step. It wasn’t his best work but Augustine treasured it more than anything. He’d embroidered her initials in blue thread, her favourite colour, The A and the Z were two different sizes and the M looked more like a zigzagging line than a letter. It was perfect.

“So? That didn’t stop me from taking you on rides when you were his age. Remember that picnic when you were five?” Link leaned over in his saddle, a gentle hand coming to rest on his daughter’s wrist.

“But I sit sidesaddle. Julie wouldn’t be comfortable riding with me” She held his hand, playing with the worn leather of his glove. Even as a young child she found comfort in the feel of her father’s riding gloves. She could remember him holding his hands out to her, just so she could play with the stitching and the creases where his knuckled bent.

“He could ride with me, unless you don’t want me hanging around with you two” Link teased, watching his daughter’s face come up in shock “You’d be too embarrassed to have your old man join you I get it”

“No that’s not true!” she defended, noticing too late the mischievous glint in his eye. Link let out a loud laugh, squeezing her hand in his. She let herself pout at his joke, hands reaching for the Sleipnir’s reigns.

“Poo to you Daddy” she said, throwing her chin to the side, turning her face away from him. Link was caught for a second by how similar she had looked to her mother. Augustine took after him more than Zelda, both in looks and in attitude. However there were moments when he swore she was Zelda’s double.

“I’m sorry Princess” he sighed, letting his chuckles die down “do you want to go back to the castle? See if Julie’s been missing you?”

The mention of her brother caused Augustine to smile brightly, her long ears perking up in excitement. She nodded her head, to energised to speak. She pulled on the reigns giving Link a clear message.

Race you

And the two were off

---

Julius sank in his seat, the embroidery hoop in his hands forgotten as he watched the lazy clouds float past. It was such a lovely day, the sun shining down made the gardens too hot for walking in, but it wasn’t like her could go walking anyway. Mama was working and Daddy was out with Tina, so unless he went with one of the nursery maids he was confined to the shade of his mother’s study.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like the nursery maids, it was just that they weren’t as fun as Tina, or as quiet as Daddy, or as smart as Mama.

“Are you well my Cherub?” Zelda asked, noticing her son’s slouched position. He had been practicing his embroidery while she studied harvest reports and letters from dignitaries, but the steady sound of needle against thread had stopped a while ago.

“Yes mama” he replied, tired eyes still watching the sky.

"Is there anything I can get for you?” she asked, noticing her son’s almost melancholy mood. “A drink? A snack?”

“No thank you” he sighed, moving the embroidery hoop to sit at the spot next to him. Zelda got up from her spot behind her desk, coming to kneel in front of the sofa he sat at. She held his hands in his, soft silk gloves ghosting over his tiny knuckles.

“Are you bored my dove?” she asked, watching as he nodded his head slightly. “Do you wish to go for a walk? I could call Selena…” she trailed off at her son’s disgruntled expression.

“Selena’s boring” he whined, kicking his legs slightly “She doesn’t like running or playing”

I see Zelda thought, shifting closer towards him. “Do you want to play with Tina? Is that it?” Julius nodded, eyes drifting back towards the calm blue sky. She was out there right now with Daddy, having fun without him.

“She’ll be back soon” Zelda said, trying to pacify her son’s bad mood. “You can play with her then”

Julius rolled his eyes, a very undignified action for a royal such as himself. “I wanted to play with her now. But she and Daddy left before I could go with them” Zelda moved to press a kiss to his hands, his sad expression causing her heart to break. I can’t imagine it’s any fun to watch me work all day she thought, pulling him into a hug. Julius wrapped his little arms around her, his head tucked under her chin. His soft brown hair tickled her nose.

“Do you want me to talk to Daddy?” she asked, a hand rubbing up and down her son's spine. He shook his head, only clinging tighter too her. She rocked them back and forth, humming her soft lullaby as she did.

Suddenly the door was flung open and the Crown Princess of Hyrule came running in. She was flustered and out of breath, her hair coming loose from her braids, her riding gown caked with mud around the hem. And yet she wore the brightest smile the Queen had ever seen.

“Julie!” she cried “I beat Daddy in a race! I won!” Her smile melted from her face when she noticed that he hadn’t moved to look at her. Julius still clung to Zelda refusing to look at his sister. “Julie?” she asked “what’s wrong?”

“He’s been bored to tears watching me work” Zelda said, pressing a kiss against the top of his head. “He wanted to play with you but Daddy got there first… where is Daddy?”

As if on cue, Link appeared around the side of the door, out of breath and in a similar state to his daughter. Zelda raised a brow at his appearance, silently asking what took him so long to get there.

“Her highness locked me in the stable” he answered, shooting a glance at Augustine who seemed very pleased with herself.

Julius shifted in her arms, burying himself closer to her. Zelda squeezed him in response, glancing between Link and Augustine. The two of them were now watching Julius, worry etched on their faces. Augustine stepped forward, coming to kneel next to Zelda.

“Everything alright?” Link asked, removing his riding gloves and throwing them on the desk. Zelda shrugged in response, rubbing her son’s back as he avoided eye contact with everyone in the room.

“He wanted to play with Tina” she said eyes following Link as he sat down on the sofa, pulling Julius’s embroidery into his lap. “But you took her out riding before he could, so now we’re just having a little cuddle”

Augustine laid a hand on Zelda’s shoulder, silently asking for the chance to talk to her brother. Zelda leaned back, pulling Julius from his hiding spot in her arms. He still wouldn’t look at Augustine, his eyes burning holes in the plush velvet cushions he sat on.

“Julie” she tried “do you still want to play? I found some really pretty flowers I wanted to show you” Julius tried to remain impassive, but his ears gave him away. They perked up at the idea of going to see new flowers, especially with Tina.

“That sounds nice” Zelda chimed in, moving to brush his hair away from his face “I think that would be really fun” Link got up from his seat, handing the embroidery hoop back to Julius who took it without looking.

“I agree” He said “why don’t you two go sit outside? You can work on your embroidery in the sunshine” he saw Julius hesitate, his hands running over the delicate stitches he’d done before “I’ll keep Mama company don’t worry” Julius seemed satisfied at that, happy that Mama wouldn’t have to do her work alone.

“Okay” he mumbled, kicking his legs out, “as long as you don’t distract Mama” Link let out a happy chuckle, helping Zelda to her feet. Augustine took his hand, a happy smile growing on both of their faces.

“Come on” she said, pulling him towards the door “I wanna see what embroidery you did” Link and Zelda stood and watched as their children disappeared down the hall, the sounds of laughter filling the air. Link wrapped his arms around Zelda’s waist, his chin resting on her shoulder. She let herself melt into the hug, taking the time to enjoy the moment. Her husband’s strong hands running up and down her spine, her children’s joyful cries floating around the castle.

“I love you” she murmured, resting her cheek on his shoulder. She felt him smile, his hands holding her close to him.

“I love you too” he whispered

#zelink #tp zelink #zelink fanfic requests #expect to see more of Tina and Julie in the future I love my babies

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