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a-chuffed-floating-panda · 2 months ago

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A love in the eye of the hurricane ch30 (unedited)

(Originally posted 6 December 2022 Sleep deprived period. Slightly better edited chapter)

Honestly, this was embarrassing.

Jamyang’s stuck in a difficult position, one that she hasn’t been in before.

She dipped her hands into a nearby water source to clean them of dirt, then got startled by a sound and now there’s ice cemented around her hands, rendering them useless.

Maybe this was what she could do with waterbending? Freeze it. Just like how Gawa could create small embers of fire and ash, and how Amanthi could juggle small pebbles in her hand and send them flying towards those who were being annoying. Hers and Yara’s papers had split into pieces when Gawa had helped them open their chakras. Some of those pieces, however, were wet. Something that no one expected.

It wasn’t entirely unpleasant. It was cold, sure, and it made her arms heavy, but it wasn’t unpleasant. But it sure was annoying and inconvenient.

How was she supposed to collect information about Tashi and Choda now? The cemented hands were a dead giveaway. The clacking and watery trails as it melted were difficult to hide.

She would unfreeze them if she knew how. Waterbending was similar to airbending, but there were things she couldn’t approach in the same way as with her own element.

How did a waterbender unfreeze water?

Jamyang had read books where it’s described as ‘reaching into the ice and pulling at the source’ and ‘pulling at the water,’ and it simply unfroze afterwards, but she couldn’t do that. Didn’t know how.

So then as a last resort- because yes, she’s tried smashing them against the ground and it didn’t get her more than large cracks-, she walked down the large halls of the temple toward where Sister Gyalwo usually stayed during the day and painted with Monk Taiki and the only waterbender she knew of, currently.

The baby lemurs cooed at her when she turned the corner. Almost there.

Jamyang stopped abruptly when she heard a giggle. A suggestive giggle, if she could call it that, (Don’t ask how she came to know ‘suggestive’ anything) quickly followed by a laugh and a chuckle. Should she risk it and peek into the room?

Taking a moment to deliberate the choices, she decides she’s desperate enough to get the ice off of her hands and ultimately peeked in and quickly looked away. A blush high on her cheeks.

The only waterbender she knew of was… preoccupied.

Jamyang started walking in the direction she came. A familiar laugh carried down the hall and her mood brightened. Surely Sister Tsering could figure out a solution. She always did. Her pace picked up to a light jog. She wanted the ice off of her hands now.

Sister Tsering was in a more decent position than Sister Gyalwo. Her legs were thrown over Hayma’s lap and she’s cuddled up close to her while Hayma told her about recent events. A new architect was working with earthbenders to create an underground tunnel, and progress so far had been great. Tunnels were being made? Jamyang walked in on something she had no context of.

Hayma glanced over her shoulder, sensing her presence, and raised a brow at her ice cemented hands and paused, talking. “Um, Sister Tsering?”

“Yes?” She turned and took a double take on her hands, got up and approached her. “What happened?” She said and carefully grabbed her right hand. Hayma looked over her shoulder, eyes assessing.

“I dipped my hands into a water source outside to clean them and got startled by a sound and then it froze.” She said and looked at her hands. She’s happy it started melting. “I tried smashing them against the ground, but I didn’t get more than these huge cracks.”

“What about Adlartok?” Hayma crouched down on her left and steam came off when she put her hands on the ice. Wow. Interesting. How did she do that? Jamyang pressed her lips together, thinking about how to word herself. “Um… he’s preoccupied.”

“What do you mean ‘preoccupied?’”

“You know,” she did the most obvious wink that she could and watched as realization sunk in on Sister Tsering’s face. “Preoccupied. I didn’t want to be a cockblock.”

“Honestly, Gyalwo…” she muttered and shook her head, and gave Hayma the side eye when she chuckled. “How nice of you.” Jamyang nodded seriously. “Adults need time for themselves, too. Many forget that when they have to take care of children.”

“True, but we forget sometimes.” Jamyang pouted at that. Making it a note to always check in on anyone when they didn’t look their best. “I’ve almost melted off the ice. You’re not experiencing numbness or a prickling sensation in your hands, are you?”

She shook her head. “No. The cold is unpleasant, but it’s not horrible, just inconvenient and annoying.”

Hayma hummed and melted through the last remnants of ice. The heat from her hands was shocking. Painfully so. She retracted her hand. “Too hot?” Jamyang nodded. She flexed her hands. “There’s no pain when you move them?” She shook her head. “It’s as if I’ve washed them with cold water and then went outside when it was chilly.” Closest thing she could compare it to. Unpleasant, but not horrible. It didn’t take too long to warm back up again.

Hayma nodded. “Good.” And she grabbed her other hand from Sister Tsering and started melting it. Just awesome. So cool. The steam and all that. Whizzz. “You opened your chakra.” Not a question. A statement. Sister Tsering’s eyes assessed her. “I did,” Jamyang responded. “The paper split up into four pieces and some of those pieces got wet. It happened to Yara too. Jaya’s just split into many tiny pieces.”

Sister Tsering’s brows furrowed, and she leaned onto Hayma’s side. “That explains why Jaya can do some of the difficult airbending moves with such ease, doesn’t it?”

“It does,” Hayma responded, nudging her head against hers affectionately. Just a little left, almost through the ice. She’d have her hands back soon.

Sister Tsering gave her a pointed look. “What were you doing that got you into this situation, anyway?”

“Um…” Jamyang didn’t look at her. Lying was pointless. Sister Tsering would figure it out, eventually. “I was collecting intel.”

“Intel?” They said at the same time.

Jamyang nodded, a bit more confident this time. “Yeah, intel. It’s for a mission.” Hayma looked amused and got through the last piece of ice. Jamyang quickly retracted it to not linger in the painfully hot heat from her hands. Sister Tsering’s brows flattened, and she gave her a look, doubtful.

“A mission?”

“Yeah, a self-imposed one,” she nodded, flexing her hand and rubbing it against her kasaya. “It’s very important and the outcome can change- it can change a lot of things, so it’s crucial that I get the best intel.” There, she argued her case. Hayma smiled and gave her a head pat or a head fingers tap? The palm didn’t touch her head. She’d created a paw-like shape with her fingers so that the only thing that touched her head was her finger pads. A common practise she’d come to learn.

“I wish you luck on your mission then, and I hope you succeed.” Jamyang puffed her chest up. “Of course, you’re speaking to a stealth master here.” Hayma laughed and pinched her cheek. Jamyang gave them both a hug before running back outside where she saw Palden, Koko-chan and a group of older girls sparring. It looked like they were teaching something when she made her way inside to get the ice off of her hands.

She ran up to Sister Nyima, who stood on the sidelines watching. “Sorry, I’m late. I was caught up in something.” Sister Nyima’s fingers spooned into her hair and she leaned into her thigh. “It’s okay, they’re just starting.” Trepidation filled her when the two people going first were Choda and Palden.

Ooh.

The anger, like burning magma, oozed off of Choda. “Ooh.” Jamyang mumbled into Sister Nyima’s thigh. This wouldn’t end well.

“I know.” She seemed to share her feelings on that matter.

Jamyang jolted awake underneath a tree. An orange cape covered her. This wasn’t where she remembered. Had her tea companion left her alone? She sat up and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. The stark white of a folded piece of paper neatly snuggled in the cape's crease caught her attention.

“I’ll evaporate if I stay out in sunlight. You fell asleep an hour or so before sunrise and I brought you here before I left. It’s at the edge of the forest, a suzaku nest should be nearby if I remember correctly. The temple is northwest, and the town is to the south. - Dorjee.”

She smiled and folded the paper, putting it in her pocket. She took time to fold the cape as well and held it under her arm as she grabbed her staff and took off to the suzaku nest. Uma flew towards last night. Jamyang could use her whistle, but since they flew for so long, she’d let her sleep.

The snores reached all the way up to her while she flew over the area. Oh, Uma.

Jamyang steered down and landed a few feet away from the nest. Her tail peeked out for everyone to see. She had to bite back a smile when she walked closer and looked in. Uma was on her side, a sign of her being comfortable, loudly snoring. Jampo, who’s fond of warm places, hid in a pile of Suzaku ducklings, his bushy tail perfectly on top of a green sleeping duckling’s head.

They need rest; she concluded and grabbed her notes from one of the rolls on Uma’s saddle. Now it was just making her way up to the temple; her body filled with apprehension. She still hadn’t told anyone she was here. Had they noticed her? Many were sensors and had large ranges so, maybe. Had Gawa noticed she was here?

Her grip on the notes tightened briefly, and she let out a sigh. Not nervous. Her heart’s beating quicker than usual.

Jamyang turned, ready to fly up to the temple-

Her papers flew everywhere.

She’s knocked to the ground. Jamyang laid there for an embarrassingly long time to figure out just what happened. Her arms wrapped around the person when her brain caught up with the events. Gawa.

“Hai! I thought my senses were playing me.” This was nice. Jamyang reached up with a tentative hand to brush the back of her neck. The reaction she got was a sound similar to a content purr. She blinked and did it again. The same content purr like sound and she nuzzled closer into her neck with a sigh. Jamyang fought off every urge to throw her off. The area around her collarbone was still sensitive after the fracture had healed. She’d be lying if she said that her mind didn’t wander at that exact moment.

Her heart hammered in her chest, and her face warmed. She tightened her grip on her. Hug, just enjoy the hug.

Gawa’s hair spilled around her when she pulled back and Jamyang’s breath caught in her throat and she took a moment to stare. Bright eyes, her favourite colour. Wide grin showing her adorable dimples, she slid her hand from the back of her neck and up to her face. Something warm and pleasant curled around in her stomach when Gawa closed her eyes and leaned into her hand. The freckles coloured her cheeks and certain spots on her forehead and Jamyang’s hit with the sudden realization that she’s a horrible painter.

She’s never been able to paint this before. To capture the charm and beauty of her friend.

Gawa opened her eyes and gazed at her with such warmth that rendered her momentarily speechless. She’s close enough to see how the grey and blue intertwined and how it created the colour she came to enjoy so much.

The blue jewels she bought all of those years ago at that market in the Earth Kingdom that she now kept in the secret compartment in her room where she kept her weapons, still matched.

Something in her chest lightened, an interesting feeling. She felt it slowly unravel, leaving everything in her to rise; her heart soared.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming.”

“I did not.” There’s so much she wanted to say, so many words, but nothing came out.

There’s only been one time before that she’s been speechless like this before, but she’s not going to think about that now.

I want to kiss you.

“I wanted to see you,” she managed to get out after a few seconds. Something in Gawa’s expression changed at those words. “I left right after I finished putting the books back.” She let out a shaky exhale. “That’s- that’s okay, right?”

Gawa pinched her cheek, laughing. “Of course, glenpa! You can visit whenever you like.”

Anzan, similar to an overly curious red panda cub, eyed their interactions at the temple together with another monk she hadn’t met before. Another boyfriend, perhaps?

His green eyes glowed just like she’d seen Hayma’s glow whenever she’d found something incredibly amusing.

Gawa frowned, glancing in between her sketches. “What’s the difference between the two? They look very similar.”

“They’re cousins, from what I read. One book described them as siblings dragons, similar but also not at the same time.” Sort of like Uma and her. “The lōng is longer, but slimmer?” Was that the right word to use? “And the horns are longer on par with the ryeong. They also wrote that their faces were very beautiful.” Jamyang found the detail odd. “They’re also less picky about the state of the world, unlike the lóng, who’s very picky.” One wrote they had found a lóng egg that didn’t hatch until 300 years after they found it, in an era of peace. A grandchild saw the hatching through and finished the journal. “They’re like the ryeong in temperament, but not as shy as them. Honorable creatures, more so than the regular dragon. Guru Panda said they’re gentle protectors.” She finished and remembered a detail. “There’s apparently a nest close by the red panda village of lōng’s that has passed on. I haven’t found it.”

Gawa hummed, stroking a finger over her sketch. “Sounds a lot like Shaohao.” Jamyang laughed. He fit the description well.

“The lóng is… bigger.” She continued.

“Yeah?” Gawa looked over at her other sketch.

“Yeah. Bigger in the sense of muscle build, not as slim as the lōng. The horns are a tad bit shorter and they have the ryeong’s temperament turned up to the max. Extremely shy and very picky. They reach out to people in dreams.”

“Dreams?”

“Yeah,” Jamyang nodded, shuffling through some of her notes and picking out a paper and handing it to her. “Spirit dreams. The other creatures do it too, but it’s much rarer.” Much rarer. “Spirit dreams are the only way a lóng reaches out to someone.”

Venerable Dao Guang of Haishi, born around 800 years ago, wrote about dreams of majestic wingless dragons who flew without wings and roared the most beautiful fire he’d ever seen. He came to Jiming Linggu as a child asking for a bison so that he could look for the lóng who was in the area ‘hidden from the world, but not the moon,’ as he wrote it. The lóng hid underneath a lake in an underground cave waiting for him, and Dao Guang had scared his guide when he abruptly jumped into it with no notice.

He then became a monk, one of the first non-airbender monks at six autumns, taught the dharma with the lóng’s wisdom, was a talented diplomat and became a revered master.

“Apa said there’s supposed to be a room underneath the temple where Dao Guang hid many lóng eggs so that they’d be safe. It’s become a legend because it’s still not found.”

“No way.”

“Yes way.”

“And no one’s been able to find it?”

“No one’s been able to find it.” She affirmed.

Gawa put the paper down and leaned back, her head hitting the wall. “Woah…”

“I know.” The front of her robe was open just enough so that she could see the soysungwarn on her collarbone. She could see Anzan grinning in her peripheral vision and ignored him to stare at the tattoo he designed instead. Beautiful design. His handwriting was impeccable.

Jamyang pouted at the loss of view when Gawa leaned forward, holding the paper up. “What’s this?” She turned the paper back to her, holding her finger to one of her off handed notes. “‘Possible egg at the Western temple?’”

Ah.

That old scroll was over 1000 years old, likely closer to 2000 with how it mentioned certain political figures and Master Luang of the Northern Temple. High nun Avidya of the Western temple wrote the scroll, detailed everything, and was the one to hide the lóng and its egg.

“It’s an off handed note,” she tried to brush off, not wanting to get her hopes up. “I don’t know if someone found it and I didn’t find any mention of it being found, so I just noted it.”

“Sooo…” Gawa dragged out. “There’s a chance there’s a lóng underneath the Western temple?”

“A chance, yeah. I wouldn’t get my hopes up, though. High nun Avidya’s scroll was close to 2000 years old.” Jamyang read a copy. Her fear of damaging the original won over. That fact they had kept the scroll intact after almost two millennia was astounding to her.

“So the nuns at the Western temple lived with the tribe I spoke about?”

Jamyang nodded. “Yes.” There’s way more to this than she expected. “The Western temple, Jiming Linggu, Karchu, Ximen, Kinkaku-ji, Wat Phra Singh, the one on the-,” she snapped her fingers trying to remember. Jamyang never remembered the names of the two other islands. She’s only visited the Druk’s nest and occasionally the Ryeong caves.

“The red badgermole mountain?” Gawa helped. “Yeah, that one.” Firebenders predominantly dominated that island. There were three temples in three different places with that same name. “Hidden in the valley forest and a handful, a very big handful, of other temples lived with that tribe.”

Gawa inhaled, held it for five seconds and exhaled.

“I need a break.”

Jamyang couldn’t agree more. “Yeah, me too.”

Anzan’s eyes bore into the back of her skull when Gawa grabbed her hand and led her out of the room.

They never got back to that work trying to puzzle together the history and working through their notes.

Gawa dragged her out drinking instead. Freshly brewed ara was lit on fire before being bottled or immediately served. She had the privilege of witnessing it when she went along with Gawa into the shop, when she bought them a bottle. The visitor, she assumed based on their clothing, gulped at the sight and the old momo-la who’s ladled it was laughing her head off. She laughed even harder when the visitor’s face soured when he mustered up the courage to drink it.

She tugged at her Gawa’s arm, still eyeing the fire dancing over the visitors’ drinking bowl. “Yeah?” Jamyang gestured toward the table. “Do we have to do that?” Gawa followed her line of sight and snickered into the back of her hand. “No, we don’t. It’s something done right before it’s bottled or served like with him.”

“Oh…” She’s relieved. That’s far too intimidating.

“Do you want to try a fresh serving?”

“No.” She answered immediately. Gawa snickered. “No, I don’t want to try a fresh serving.”

Gawa and the woman behind the counter laughed at her reaction.

It tasted like chewy sake. It was as if she was tasting lemons with each sip. She understood why the visitor’s faced soured the way it did.

Now with an empty bottle and a night sky, they’re trying to sneak into one of the many dzongs around the island. Why? Jamyang had no idea. She’s sure that Gawa mentioned somewhere along the line, but she’s long forgotten about it. Did she forget to mention that there were guards around this one?

She sat crouched on the rooftop, watching as Gawa sprinted in between guards. She was trying to at least; the ara made it difficult. The only pro about this situation was that it made Gawa even more beautiful. Wait, no. What’s she talking about? She’s already beautiful every time she sees her. Jamyang would die if she got any more beautiful. Like, dead on the spot. Nothing like the fainting spells Sister Jetsun got when Amanthi wore something out of the ordinary. Dead-dead. She’d like her ashes to be spread in the wind, please. Did Jaya know of her wishes? She should write to her after this.

Why were they doing this again?

She glanced down. Where was she now? She spotted her sneaking around a guard, oh but there’s a guard to her right-

Jamyang swooped down from the rooftop and pulled her into the nearest alleyway. Almost. “Ugh, don’t tell me you’re secretly a dom.” Gawa’s voice muffled into a shoulder.

Jamyang blinked and swayed a little on her feet. Was that the ara? A dom?? “What?”

Gawa shifted in her grip, pushing closer to her. “Nothing…” Nothing? Nothing??

“Do- do you want to be the one to swoop down and pull me into the alleyway next time?” She didn’t know why she said that, but Gawa answered her after a moment of silence.

“I would like that, yes.”

Okay, great. What now?

Silence.

Gawa blinked her unfocused eyes on her. “There’s an exit on the- ah, wall. There’s an exit down on the wall from here. We’re going straight forward.”

“Okay.” she responded. “Sh-straightforward?” Just to be sure. She let go of her when she nodded.

“Come on.”

Jamyang struggled to keep up. It was surprising how well Gawa could keep herself together. Because of her sluggish nature, it didn’t take too long for her turn to be pulled into the nearest alleyway so that they wouldn’t get caught.

There’s hands planted on the wall beside her, and they stared at each other. First reaction was wow, Gawa did that. Pulled her into an alleyway. Jamyang at the giant height of exactly 6’4 and Gawa at the tiny height of barely 6 ft. (Gawa’s 5 ‘11, inches short og 6 ft but don’t tell that to anyone.) She fit right in between the cleft of her shoulders whenever they hugged. She fit right into her arms. Tiny. So small. After a couple of seconds, she had to bite her lip to keep herself from chuckling.

“What?”

“You’re cute.” Gawa blinked as if the words were registering and then pouted at her.

Jamyang wrapped her arms around her, pressing kisses to her temple and forehead. “So cute, so cute.”

… strands of her long hair shook as she laughed and hugged her, pressing her hands against her back. “Ah, you’re cute Jamyang. Cute so cute.”

She frowned mid forehead kiss. “Go ‘way. Not thinking about you now.”

“Who?” she said that out loud?

“Not telling you now.” How come she’s never told her about this, anyway? Was there a reason why? Jamyang thought about it and remembered, sect rules. She could tell others, but she wasn’t supposed to be really talking about it.

“Later, then?”

“Yeah, later is okay.” Gawa pulled away and peeked out of the wall corner.

“All clear.” She grabbed her hand. “We run now and we get to the other wall in no time.” Jamyang didn’t get a say in the matter. Gawa ran and pulled her with her.

She’s sure her feet didn’t touch the ground and flickered behind her like a massive prayer flag.

They’re on the beach. Gawa’s favourite beach. Laying on the beach, cuddled up close to each other and holding hands.

She enjoyed watching the night sky while holding Gawa’s hand. That’s not the ara speaking.

“Who were you talking about earlier?”

What was she talking about earlier? “Oh, Jetsun.” The sixty-fourth Jetsun she knew of at the temple. She’s four years older than her. “Sister Jetsun?”

“No, that’s Jetsun Dronma.” She had more names, but Jamyang didn’t remember them currently. “The one I’m talking about is Sonam Jetsun.” And a bunch of other names that she also didn’t remember at the moment. She called her Sonam when they were alone, though.

“How many Jetsuns are there at the temple?”

“Many. I only know sixty four that go by that as their preferred name. Sh- Sister Tsering says there’s more, though.”

“Ehh, that’s so many.”

“I know. It’s a popular name.” Gawa rolled onto her side to face her. “Why were you thinking about her? She’s your friend?” Jamyang rolled onto her side as well. They’re friends, cuddle buddies would be the more appropriate term now that she actually thought about their dynamic. She held no romantic feelings for her, but she liked her company and Jetsun seemed to like hers as well. Jamyang knew how to enjoy herself.

“She helped me open, find and trace my chi-,” she cut herself off, frowning. “I’m not supposed to speak about that.” What could she say instead? Ah. “Coming of age ritual.” An introduction into the tantric arts and the secretive karmamudrā. Jetsun had teased her about being dominant then as well, and uh…. Jamyang remembered a line of events, even when drunk, where she turned the tables on her quickly.

She might be the more dominant one now that she thought about it. It came more naturally to her.

“You have those too?” Gawa brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “What’s the age?”

“Sixteen, you?”

“Fourteen.” She then added before she could say anything. “It’s for the sake of our missions.” Jamyang pursed her lips and reached up to cup her face. “It’s still young.”

There’s a small smile on her lips. “I doubt our coming of age rituals are similar though.”

“They might not be.” she’s never read about them. “But it’s still a coming of age ritual.” Gawa didn’t meet her eyes. She looked sleepy.

“What’s Jetsun like?” Now that threw her off. She didn’t expect to talk about her with Gawa at all. Jamyang hummed, stroking her upper cheek with her thumb. “She- she reminded me of Hayma when I first met her.”

“Flirty and playful?”

She nodded. “Yeah, but it’s not as much as her, y’know? She’s like Hayma, but toned down. She has Jaya traits too, extroverted.” Jetsun had callused hands and her grip was firm. “She’s very kind and patient.” Jamyang still remembered the feeling of how her hands gripped her hair that first time. “She’s also having a baby soon.” She looked forward to that. It’s sometime next month.

“She’s going to make you an ani?”

“I think so? Ghamo teases me a lot that she’s having our child because of how coupley we act sometimes.” There’s a slight change in Gawa’s expression.

“Wanna know what Nyima said to that?”

“What?”

“That I’m everybody’s boyfriend.” That got her expression to brighten.

“Pft ha! You’d make a wonderful boyfriend.” Her arm settled over her waist. There’s a certain possessiveness to her touch. “I think you’d make a better girlfriend, though.”

Jamyang felt herself grin. “Ask me out and maybe you’ll find out then.” She’s prideful. Pride and ego was bad, but this pride was good. It pulled a startled laugh out of Gawa.

Jamyang took another moment to stare, trying to commit all the details on her face to memory.

Notes:

Booo:D Had a massive L moment today. I forgot the bracelet my sister gave me for my birthday and my mala in my pocket when I was doing my laundry today :( Luckily enough there isn't any damage to them, so I'm happy. I see what you're thinking there, Jamyang 👀 I see you 👀 I've wanted to write that "You're secretly a Dom moment" for a while now. I've been waiting for the right moment and sneaking into a dzong just happened to be the right one. Drunk Jamyang is a total mood though. I took inspiration from my friend who sent me the messages who kick started this whole fic (I might post them in the last chapter as a sort of 'this is where it came from' type of thing) I've been looking forward to the mention of coming of age rituals, literally been on my mind for months as I've waited for the right moment to put it in. I don't remember which fic it was, but there was this line "Some pleasures are often found closer to home." And I'm like yes, ah, all the inspiration floweth through me! Words: glenpa: Idiot in tibetan karmamudrā: Sexual yoga/use of a sexual union to achieve a state of bliss and insight into emptiness. dzong: traditional bhutanese and tibetan architecture and sort of fortified monastery Soysungwarn: Sak yant collarbone tattoo Ara: bhutanese alcohol Hai: casual Okinawa greeting

#a love in the eye of the hurricane #Aliteoth original chapters #oc fanfiction #atla oc fanfiction #airbenders & airbending #pre yangchen era #oc jamyang #stories from people at ordinary temples #stories from people at ordinary temples series #ao3fic #unedited fic chapter

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write-like-wright · 3 years ago

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Your First Kiss With Them: Prosecutors Edition

A lovely anon requested first kiss headcanons with both defense lawyers and prosecutors, so I'm just gonna do it in two parts.

Miles Edgeworth

It happens spontaneously with Miles.

You'd gone on a few dates already and he always walks you to your door, like the gentleman he is. When it's time to say goodbye, he lingers for a moment, as if unsure how to proceed. He always flakes in the end, leaving you after an awkward hug and a face that matches the colour of his suit.

One day you're just at his place. It's one of those lazy days when you order takeout and sit at home binging Steel Samurai. A funny scene comes on, something that leaves you both in stitches. It's such a sweet thing, seeing him laugh so earnestly, some colour rising to his face. You lean over and press a kiss to his lips almost instinctively and he freezes for a second and so do you once you realise what you'd done. You apologise awkwardly, fearing you'd crossed a line.

"What are you sorry for? I quite liked that," Miles laughs. "At least one of us has enough courage to act."

Franziska von Karma

Happens in the middle of an argument, most likely. Nothing serious, of course. You're just bickering over something silly and Franziska gets a bit too smug with her comebacks. It annoys you to no end, seeing that smarmy grin on her lovely face. You stand there for a second, feeling an overwhelming urge to-

"Why are you glaring at me like that? Just because I'm right doesn't give you the excuse to act like a f-"

Silence. Cut off by a kiss.

She's completely dumbfounded when you part. It takes her a moment to regain her composure.

"Well," she says eventually. "How foolish of you. Trying to win an argument through such underhanded tactics."

You keep on bickering.

She kisses you not two minutes later when she realises her argument makes no sense and you gain the upper hand.

Diego Armando/Godot

It's the classic scenario with him.

He takes you out for a cup of coffee one rainy afternoon. You sit at the coffee shop for hours, talking and laughing, enjoying each other's company. It's dark outside before you even realise it and he offers to walk you home. The conversation keeps flowing on your way to your place and you feel a pang of sadness when it's time to say your goodbyes. You tell him how much you enjoyed your date and he just casually leans in for a kiss that lasts a bit longer than you'd expected. There's no way your neighbours won't gossip about it tomorrow.

Klavier Gavin

He texts you to wear something warm before your date. You're confused but oblige.

Klav shows up on his bike to pick you up and it all makes sense suddenly. "Come on, Schatzi, I'll show you what a real adrenaline rush feels like."

He's true to his word. He drives you around the city, the cool twilight air rushing past you and you feel more alive than ever.

Eventually, he takes you to his favourite spot, a clearing overlooking the entire city. It feels surreal seeing all the city lights intertwine with the stars above. You sit on his bike while he stands in front of you, talking about something or another. It's hard to say who leans in first, but soon enough you're kissing. It's your first kiss together, then the second and third and fourth...

Simon Blackquill

You're just fooling around at his place.

Simon is a massive tease when he drops his twisted persona. He picks little fights and picks on you just to get you worked up. It's a mixture of endearing and annoying.

He puts on some stupid show you're not interested in one bit. Neither is he, but he'd rather tease you about it than change the channel.

"Give me the remote, Simon."

"Come get it, *insert dumb nickname*"

You try and fail spectacularly. It's just play wrestling, but that doesn't change the fact he's twice your size and can pin you down with one-fifth of his weight. Not that you mind.

You're both giggling breathlessly at this point. "Do you yield, miscreant?" He asks in his scariest prosecutor voice. Dumbass. "I yield, I yield! Just let me go!"

"You must pay the toll first," he deadpans, crossing his arms.

"And what is the toll?"

"A kiss, if I recall correctly."

You buy your freedom and he lets you up, handing you the remote and letting you curl up against him on the sofa.

You pay his toll a few more times during the evening.

Nahyuta Sahdmadhi

You're very hesitant to kiss Yuti.

He's a monk. You're not even sure it's allowed.

You start wondering if you'd perhaps been misunderstanding your outings. They were clearly dates, you thought, but then again he could merely see them as you acting as his tour guide to introduce him to your culture. You're very torn on the matter.

On your way home from dinner, you pick up some dessert. Nothing fancy, just cupcakes from a local bakery. You eat them at your place while trying to explain the concept of Netflix and chill to him. It's hard to say if he's scandalized or intrigued.

"These are so good! Would you like a taste?" You ask with your mouth full, perhaps overexaggerating your food-induced moaning.

He gives you one of those sweet, gentle looks he's known for. "Certainly," he says, bridging the gap between you, pressing the softest of kisses to your lips. You're confused by his actions but you'd be lying if you said you minded.

"What was that about?"

"Hm? Oh, that was a pick-up line, was it not? I've heard about those. Although I hear that one is usually used with flavoured lipgloss."

"Yuti, I was just offering you some of my cupcakes."

"Oh," he seems a bit embarrassed now. "Do forgive me then."

"I didn't say I minded. But you can't just go around kissing people like that."

"I'll jot that down in my 'How to act like a native' notebook."

Barok van Zieks

(Heavily inspired by my incessant bugging of @bailey-reaper from my main)

It happens during his University days.

Barok approaches you at a gathering, completely red-faced while Klint and Albert snicker within earshot. He asks you to dance with him in the most roundabout way possible, to the point where you're not quite sure what he's asking of you.

You agree and are surprised at how good of a dancer he is in spite of his initial and apparent awkwardness. Must be those long, elegant legs.

He takes you on a stroll after and you end up alone on a balcony. His initial nervous demeanour slowly melts away, although he's still more than a little shy. You chat away and you even get a laugh out of him at some point. It's one of your personal victories.

It's almost midnight when you are interrupted. "Ah, brother, there you are!" Klint van Zieks suddenly joins you on the balcony. His lips curl in a knowing smirk as he turns to greet you. "Mother has sent me to get you aeons ago! I've been looking for you all over. It's time to leave. Say your goodbyes, and be quick." He leaves then, giving you a moment of privacy.

"I-I, hm, I have really enjoyed your company tonight. Thank you for the dance. I fear I must be going now."

"Wait," you say placing your hand on his arm, half expecting him to recoil. He doesn't. You get on your tip-toes and you can still barely reach his face. Thankfully, he's already slouching. You press a quick, chaste kiss to his lips, hoping no one saw you. "Surely, you wouldn't have left me without a kiss goodnight?"

His face is burning now and he swallows. "Pray, forgive the discourtesy. How careless I am. I'll bear it in mind for next time." With that, he turns and leaves you.

Kazuma Asogi

He walks up to you one day right as you're about to head to your next class, looking pensive and excited at once. You know why, you'd heard the news. Kazuma had been selected for the student exchange and you were thrilled for him - no one deserved it more than he did. You just hoped you did a good job of hiding how sad you were to see him leave regardless.

"I can't leave you here without a proper goodbye. Leave your books, come on." He convinces you to skip the rest of your classes and drags you away on an adventure as he calls it.

You spend the day together, joking around, getting food and window shopping. Finally, you settle under the shade of a tree where you usually met up in secret. He babbles away about the law, the British Empire, his plans for the future.

When he runs out of topics to talk about, he goes quiet, dark eyes searching your face. "Do you know why I stole you away today?" Stole? He's so dramatic. You shake your head. "I don't want you to forget me when I'm gone. Remember this day, and me and this." With that, he gently takes your face in his hands and leans in, claiming your lips in a heated kiss. It's so intense, you feel yourself burning under his touch. Tears prickle your eyes when you part. "I hate to so you go," you whisper weakly and he gives you a sad, understanding smile. "I know. I'm so sorry." You pull him into another kiss, lying down on the grass, hidden by the shade of the tree. You're not about to let him forget you either.

#ace attorney #the great ace attorney #dai gyakuten saiban #miles edgeworth #franziska von karma #diego armando #godot #klavier gavin #simon blackquill #nahyuta sahdmadhi #barok van zieks #kazuma asogi #headcanons #x reader #can you tell who my favourites are from this yes you can hi simon barok and kazuma how you doing babes #did i tag everyone i hope so

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jjkpls · 4 years ago

Text

set your world alight (m)

genre : fluff, smut, tiny lil bit of angst

pairing : jeon jungkook x reader (f)

word count : 24k (eye-)

warnings/content : mentions of bruises, mature language, long haired jaykay, awkwardness & cutesy overload, clumsy frustrating idiot(s), bratty reader, explicit sexual content (fingering, handjob, protected penetrative sex), HARRYPOTTER!AU (i cant believe i forgot to precise that in the teasers), jeon as charlie weasley, pretty much.

Jeon Jungkook is a mystery. Master of dragons. Long dark locks hiding a face most have never seen. Skin covered in scars. A brave, unpenetrable, curious being that you don’t know much about for, the very few times you’ve seen him in your life, you didn’t dare talk to him. Of course, you’d have the fatest crush on him.

“If we add roses instead of eucalyptus, wouldn't it turn into a love potion?”

You could have predicted it. If you were to have spent your evening scribbling the course that this morning, with the introducing of a new potion to your year 6 class, would take, solely based on intuition and experience, you would have gotten it right. Down to who's asking the question.

“No, it won’t.”

“Are you sure?”

Are you? After having spent your whole schooling career in Hogwarts, having studied the art of potion-making for five years filled with internships in the four corners of this Earth, in the greatest House of Potions there are, are you sure?

You could say all that. You could even tell to this annoying Gryffindor to shut the hell up because everyone, and you first, can’t stand to hear her voice anymore, interrupting constantly every lesson either with pointless questions or with obnoxious jabber.

But you don’t. Obviously, you don’t.

“For now, let’s just focus on learning what the actual recipe is. We’ll worry about interchanging ingredients later.”

Which is almost a lie. You won’t ever do that with them. You have your tight program, with a limited amount of recipes, that you’re supposed to go through with them. And creating new potions, or adapting already existing one to discover new effects are not on the plan. Not with Mrs Umbridge watching closely over every Hogwarts teachers' shoulders.

If they ever still find themselves obsessed with their dating life and enlarged pores once they'll be done with school, they will worry, on their very own, about creating the magic juices and ointments they need -given their lack of attention, investment and overall talent, you do sincerely hope they drop it because the results might lead to catastrophes but that's beside the point.

Miss Gryffindor sighs loudly. Turning slightly on her chair to roll her eyes to her friends, who snicker along, they’re whispering Merlin knows what about you and you’re just left there, trying to find your way back to the lesson without losing too much of your composure.

It doesn’t take you so much effort because unfortunately you are used to this. This class of Gryffindor is terrible. In your couple of years of teaching, you’ve never fallen upon a class filled with so many disinterested, awfully rude teenagers. Naively, when you just walked out of Hogwarts yourself almost ten years ago, when you were wondering with a certain dreadful desperation, what path to head for, you had finally chosen the teaching one, believing that by the time you’ll become a teacher, you’ll be old enough and teenagers would stop being scary by then, you might even grow a little fond of them, embodiment of a something long time gone, of nostalgia.

You were wrong. At twenty-six, you still feel like a barely done with teenagehood human, hardly an adult yet. The weapons you thought you’d gather along the way didn’t appear in your robe’s pockets as you thought they would.

Instead, you only have one, effective on an immediate use, but pretty useless on the long run: a monk’s patience.

You can ignore them. When they’re being so aggravating, you consider sometimes taking a hundred points away from their house -but you don’t because you’ll have to justify to the very biased Head of Gryffindor and fucking Umbridge-, you can ignore them. It’s the most effective way to react as it doesn’t feed them much, they just get annoyed with your unresponsiveness and decide to contain their disruption between themselves. The thing is, the steam has to blow some way, somehow. It’s fine when you can wake up early and spend an hour or so meditating, to gather all of your monk's potential, or if you ever have a Draught of Peace laying around, that can help too.

These days, it’s just harder to meditate, to try and keep your mind light, unbothered and calmly content.

So much harder that by the end of the class, only fifteen minutes left, you snap and end up taking off ten points from Gryffindors.

There’s a lot of whining, of strident eruptions of indignation, however, you’re smart enough to do it the moment you’re dismissing your class and they have to leave, sulking and hating you with a passion, for their next lesson.

“What have you done?” It’s Taehyung asking. He has a little alarmed look shading his abnormally handsome face, but a tiny little tremble of the corner of his mouth gives him away.

“Ten points.” You state with a bored raised of your eyebrows. What a bunch of babies.

“You suck. They’re going to hate me too, now.”

Which is not true. Immature profiles like them would tend to hate a teacher simply by association -it is to say that Taehyung is well known to be always stuck to your shoes, you grew up together anyway- but they would never Taehyung. He’s too handsome, has a voice way too sultry, too much charisma for anyone to hate him, especially his students. They can't stand his lessons though. He’s the worst option for a History of Magic teacher. He is passionate about his studies, really really passionate. Therefore his classes, in summarise, turn into him ranting non-stop, jumping from the main point to tiny insignificant streams made of pointless anecdotes that leave his students lost and confused, holes in their parchments, hands burning from their poor attempt at trying to take notes. His classes are Hell, made of boredom and confounding. The only upside being that he’s very nice to look at. He’s like an ancient mage stuck inside an elf body.

“Do you know how many times this year I’ve had to tell them that ‘no, this potion that has nothing to do with a love potion can’t be turned into one’? Why do I have to deal with their hormones all the time, seriously?”

“You mean, on top of yours?” It freezes you on the spot You could have heard that coming, with the big old ton-heavy boots. You don’t bother looking up from your papers you are reorganising. It’s pointless because you already know what you’d see. The smart ass’s shit-eating grin, singularly square at the edges, with the mischievous squinted eyes and subjective dance of the eyebrows.

“Shut up.”

“I can’t. I know you love talking about him since you don’t talk to him.”

The shame is burning the back of your neck. It’s climbing up your cheeks, taking over your ears in the process. If there’s one person who does wonders at not-making-you-feel-like-an-adult, it’s Kim Taehyung. Because of course he saw you grow up, and of course, he’s noticed that the timid, coward of a little Ravenclaw you used to be, hasn’t changed one bit.

“You’re so mean.”

“Am not too.” He giggles as he leaps from the front table he had been sitting on to your desk, where he takes a seat, not caring about your quill holder that he knocks down. “You’re never going to try?”

“I don’t know, Tae.”

“He doesn’t look mean. A bit gruff but I guess that’s what living like a wild creature surrounded by the wildest creatures makes you look like.”

You hum non-committally. You have come to the same conclusion already. But you hate the idea that you could be right because it gives you one less reason to not dare approach him. “He must be nice.”

“He must?” You cackle a bit. He doesn’t even sound so sure of this statement. Taehyung smiles along, shrugging with a tilt of his head.

“Well, I don’t know. But you have to talk to him. Soon he’ll be portkeying back to his Transylvania-“

“Romania.”

“-you won’t see him ever again. And also, seriously, it’s been like, what, three months since he’s back?”

“Actually, it’s been barely a month.” The idiot is pretending, with a grandiloquent theatrical performance, that he doesn’t believe you, that somehow you’re trying to deceive him. And it’s ridiculous because no matter how dramatic he always aims to be, no matter how long indeed this whole pinning over the pretty guy without having the courage to act on your feelings has been lasting, it still has not been three months. It’s been three weeks and four days, not that you're counting.

He arrived on a rainy Friday morning, you remember it well because the wet weather agitated the frogs an awful lot and you ended up spending your ten minutes of break between two classes, on all fours, crawling along the hallways of Hogwarts to try and retrieve three escapees.

A real joy.

Especially when he appeared at the end of the hallway. Soaked to the bones but not seemingly caring, as opposed to Mr Filch who seemed even angrier than he usually does. You barely recognised him, from so far, looking up from the ground, with the hood of his heavy coat low above his eyes, nothing peculiar in his appearance that would give him away, not a word uttered that could have helped. Until he turned the corner of the hallway, and the emblem of this foreign school of wizardry appeared. With the purple embroidery contouring the white seagull, it just clicked. You remembered the rumours spreading wildly, excitedly around the castle, that despite the very vindicative Mrs Umbridge's opinion, dragons would be introduced this year to the course of Care for the Magical Creatures and real dragons, seen by their master, would be flying to you and inhabit the grounds of Hogwarts for this semester.

And of course, it would be him. With his impressive resume, or that unauthorised biography written about him by that one stingy journalist singing his lauds that you could read anywhere -there was even a version, presented as fiction, that’s been published in the muggle world- and also, his first and last visit to Hogwarts, two years ago, for the Triwizard Tournament when he proved his talent and bravery in front of all by forcefully regaining control over a Horntail that was just about to chew a few students’ heads off after having eluded his chains -and conveniently, it's also the same time when you fell head over heels for the stranger.

It was ridiculous because you never talked to the guy. But two years later, just his silhouette and the bouncing of his heavy head of curls you have to come to the shameful acknowledgement that your heart hasn’t gotten over the crush.

It’s ridiculous.

It precisely why you shouldn’t have talked about it to anyone. It’s just too hard to keep anything from Kim Taehyung though. Even if your life would have been so much easier if you’d only have to listen to your own nagging about this and not his.

“You’re going to end up as a crazy old spinster if you keep acting like that.”

“And you’re going to be late for your class if you keep on bothering me.”

“I don’t have a class.” Taehyung stares, dubiously. Now that you don’t have to face head-on your shame, attention slightly steered away from your useless self, you can stare back, glare even, as you challenge him with a raised eyebrow.

“You do.”

You relish in the sickly white suddenly brushing all over his face. He curses under his breath, grabbing his briefcase with one of his gigantic hands, before he’s flying out of your classroom.

Quite frankly, you’re not sure if he does have a class at the moment. You do know for a fact that he doesn’t know either because strangely enough, for a teacher whose whole subject depends on memory and a good one at that, he’s never been able to memorise his planning.

An easy escape you’ve come up with.

Everyone needs those.

Especially whoever’s having their ears talked off by the crazy old howl, Umbridge, down the corridor. You can hear her from your room, even with the door almost shut close. Her whole monologue is hard to decipher. You do hear that it has something to do with “her disapproval” and someone else's “irresponsibility” and “pure lunacy”.

By curiosity, you lean your head through the thin entrance your door is offering, picking discreetly to see who the victim is.

It's the guy. Jeon Jungkook. Standing with his feet pointing away from Umbridge, hands tucked deep in the pockets of a thick winter vest, you can’t see half of his face because of his hair, as always sitting low down his forehead, but you can tell from the thin line of his mouth, his tensed shoulders and something else, maybe his aura, so loudly screeching annoyance, that he's not having a good time.

It’s him. And for some reason, for the first time ever, you recall words Taehyung has said to you, loud and clear and pressing and inspiring. You don’t want to become a “crazy old spinster”. Therefore you decide to become a crazy something else you don’t bother to identify right this second.

“Oh, Mrs Umbridge!”

“Miss ___, as you can see, I am already-“

“Oh!” The loud gasp, hand clasping on your gaping mouth, wide eyes completing the look. You can’t find the courage to turn to him to reinforce -in case it wasn’t clear enough- that you just, now that she mentioned it, realise the man was here.

Mrs Umbridge has this quality to her. You find her so awfully ridiculous that you turn yourself in a clown, subtly mocking her -though you don’t think she fathoms it since you’ve always acted this way around her- each time you share any kind of conversation.

It can work and you can go along with your usual antics only if you forget the obnoxiously troubling presence of the dragon master.

“I am so deeply embarrassed, I didn’t realise. I’m not wearing my glasses, I’m an incorrigible mole without them.”

“Is that so?” From above the frame of her pink glasses, her beady eyes scrutinize. “You should wear them on your nose then, Miss ___. Now, if you will-“

“I’m sorry, I needed- It’s very important.” You cut her off with such speed and enthusiasm, you know she can't shut you off. “After discussing with my students about the program, I thought about something. Maybe I could introduce a new-“ “Miss ___!” She screeches, the triggering words -”introduce” and “new”- having hit perfectly right. “The program, as you owe to know, has been carefully crafted by the great Minister for Magic and doesn’t need for an airheaded little teacher like you to add any changes to it.”

“Oh yes, of course, how could I forget?”

“It is bad enough as it is that this foolish Hagrid has been able to convince my confreres of bringing a useless study on the most dangerous creatures there is-“ She pointedly glare from the corner of her eyes to the man who remains silent and immobile. His hands haven’t moved from the depth of his pockets, you can’t see his eyes even up close, because the curtain of dark curls hiding them is even thicker than it looked like from the other end of the hallway. He doesn’t seem particularly bothered. You wonder if he’s even listening. Barely swinging on his long legs, waiting for his presence to be dismissed it seems.

“Dragons are quite interesting creatures. I suppose that’s why they were added to the program. The Ministry for Magic must have thought so too since they voted...”

She gnarls at that. She tries to be discreet, conceals a bit of her spite but there’s no doubt in your mind that her mouth's just filled up with a distasteful repellent aftertaste.

Since the main goal was to distract her from him and free him from her claws, you start again with the suggestions for a revised scholar program. Her cheeks grow pinker than her jacket, her eyes start reflecting a fire alike the ones from Hell, her usually perfectly well-combed hair releases a few angry frizzes. She’s beyond herself and without letting you finish your little act, she’s going over all the things that are so wrong about you, about Hogwarts teachers in general, about young people and their disrespectful tendency to want to add their little spice to every tea.

You take the nagging like a champ. Because you’re used to it and to be perfectly fair, you’ve mastered a certain state of meditation whenever she’s coming your way with some complaining.

None of her words successfully reach you to stick around.

She holds strong for a good, fat fifteen minutes. At some point, you even worry that this time, her pit of nonsensical arguments won’t ever show a bottom. Until it does.

She looks all dishevelled from her heated argument. The hair worsened, with now drops of perspiration shining on her forehead. The mean beady eyes are dull, exhausted from the fight as she contemplates the void between you and the man. With a last dismissive wave of her hand, she leaves, stumbling on top of her lacquered Fuschia heels.

How can someone work themselves up so badly with so little provocation -and no further response too?

It leaves you alone with the dragon master and only now, even though you had plenty of time to take in this present, you realise how inconvenient for your coward self the predicament is. You are meant to talk to him now, aren’t you? Maybe the same question raises in his mind however he certainly doesn’t reach the same conclusion. Deeming it unnecessary, he turns his back to you and heads down the hall without much of a look spared to you. Maybe he did check, through or maybe under the impenetrable curtain of hair, for the identity of the idiot that thought he needed help to escape the annoying old owl but you wouldn’t know.

Watching in pure despair, your heart prickling uncomfortably in your bosom, you wonder if you somehow upset him. He did look irked from what you could tell. Anyone else, anyone less grumpy, anyone feeling anything but discomfort or discontent would have said something, wouldn’t they?

That’s what you explain to Kim Taehyung. Emphasising on the fact that you did try to approach the guy. You did. You created the situation, you faced him fully, you did miss the moment when you were probably supposed to say something to him but he left, too soon, and clearly is not interested in getting to know you, and whatever, you’re fine with that you just want your friend to note and remember for later reference that you did try this time.

Taehyung who’s never keen on trusting your words, no matter the fact that you’ve never lied to him -or maybe just a few times so he would leave you alone, but nothing major really- decides that you are wrong. That somehow you misinterpreted the whole thing and surely you need to hop back on the horse and try, again, maybe this time more vindictively.

It takes quite a couple of days for him to convince you. You’re not sure how. It might be from exhaustion, it might come from those three too many butterbeers you drank even though you didn’t remember ordering, back when you were gloomily celebrating your never-ending celibacy in Jjang Jjang -the magical bar held by your friend, Min Yoongi, in the far end of Hogsmead.

You promise that if an opportunity appears to be showing the very tip of its nose, if the universe is kind -and delusional- enough to gift you another chance, then you would try.

It’s funny how the laws of attraction work. Or rather, probably more accurately, it’s funny how Taehyung can be so shameless and volunteer when he has his mind set on something. He has no problem manipulating people and situations as if the universe is his and he decides whatever happens to the little pawns inhabiting it.

A week later, when he, the dragon master, is the curious apparition manifesting itself in front of you when you open the door to let your class free, it doesn’t fall into place right away.

It’s a strange coincidence. Maybe he messed up and meant to find another classroom, any other classroom but yours. He doesn’t budge when he sees you, doesn’t seem startled by your presence. He only takes a step to the side once he realises that a wave of hurried teenagers is about to swarm him in their way out.

“Miss, are we still going to study this potion next time or will we move to something more interesting?” It’s that same Gryffindor. The same as usual. She’s just made of attitudes, eye rolls, hand on the hip and all.

“Once you’ll be able to make it without cooking a hole in your cauldron, we’ll be starting with a new one.”

You’re snarkier than usual, there’s no denying that. It’s your fifth class of the day, everyone seems to have signed an agreement on messing with your patience and he’s here, hearing and seeing an umpteenth attempt to humiliate you from this kid and you’re not having it right now, not today. She grows red on the cheeks, eyebrows frowning dangerously low, they might fall from her face when she barks, “I told you the hole was already there!”

“I understand. Next time, I’ll lend you my old cauldron so there won’t be any issue, alright?”

The angry wands she owns for eyes shoot you a good dozen of curses and she departs, with her friends, as angry as ever.

There’s a heavy silence, setting around you both, engulfing you. The wood of the walls, dark and cold, make it old the more uncomfortable until you can not take it anymore. You’re about to mumble something, maybe point out the end of the hall and suggest he tries there, to find whatever or whoever he is looking for. He beats you to it. Having reached the very limit of handling this silence at the same time as you do.

“Good morning.” He starts, clearing his throat. A husky, quiet yet somehow soft voice that he doesn’t seem to have used quite often. “Here’s the stuff for your potions.”

He holds out a strong hand to you, all veiny and sparkled with tiny bruises, a dark bag made of linen held in his fist. If he can see you, he can undoubtedly take in your confusion. You have no idea what “the stuff” is. If it’s a badly expressed thought. If he meant to say, “some stuff” for your potions. Because you’ve never asked for anything from anyone for your potions -even though, the thought crossed your mind that he, with his magical pets, must have some fantastic ingredients for your searches. You don’t know if it just comes from him. If he thought you may need it and generously prepared this for you -you doubt that one highly. The other reason, way more evident, quite obnoxiously obvious actually, that doesn’t reach your brain which is only working at a quarter of its habitual capacity given his standing here, and his smelling like woods and smoky and something subtler, you can’t pinpoint but feel addicted to as soon as it reaches your nostrils, is that someone -Taehyung- must have put him up for it. He must have gone behind your back, mumble some basic potion ingredients knowledge he owns to him and asked him to bring it to you.

“I put my Norvegian Ridgeback's scales in a separate bag because they’re very sharp -and poisonous too- so be careful when you open it.” He’s done talking, he clears his throat again, this time you’re pretty sure it’s out of discomfort as your gaping silently like a dumb fish must not be the easiest response to receive. A little inviting shake of his fist brings you to your senses, and you reach forward to grab the present. Your arm drops down from the surprising weight of the thing, fortunately, as if he expected it, he catches you before you topple over, a hand on your shoulder and the other encasing yours holding the bag, squeezing around your own as he lifts some of the weight up.

“Sorry, I didn’t expect it to be this heavy.” because you carried it like it was filled with dragons feathers instead -you mean to add.

“It’s fine.” He simply mumbles. You add your free hand to cup the underside of the thing, pressing the whole to your bosom and he lets go there, letting you step inside your room to find a place on a shelf to put it away. You probably take a second to long, your back facing him, as you stand staring at your new possession. It’s the heat remaining on the back of your hand that troubles you. As if not only have his pets decorated the top of his skin with scratches and bruises, they’ve sighed enough fire in his palms for them to forever feel this warm. And he touched you so naturally so. Pressing his large hand around yours that seemed so tiny in comparison. Probably without even acknowledging it while you are shook to your core.

This added to your confusion born from his surprise apparition, are the reasons why, as I said, your brain doesn’t reach its full capacity. Still, the idea that Taehyung is behind it all, that it can’t solely come from this man here, just won’t do in your idiotic head.

You’re enamoured, even more than before, just by a touch and by the gentleness his words hold under the tougher surface. And you decide, that if you turn around and he’s still standing there you’ll ask him out.

You do so, spiralling in slow motion, filled with apprehension. He’s here. His hands back inside the pockets of his jacket, the shadow of a sparkle coming from his eyes, under the heavy protection he’s wearing in front of them.

“Jeon Jungkook?”

He’s startled at the call of his name, the top of his mop of hair bouncing slightly and you just find it adorable. Maybe he didn’t expect you to know his name, he must not even know yours. Of course, he could not have expected that you had spent way too long, two years ago, back when he came to Hogwarts for the first time and you had heard his name amid a conversation, trying it out for yourself. Not to wear it out but repeating his name to yourself, appreciating the way the syllabus formed, how they felt so well chosen for each other’s, for him, and the feeling, light heading, that it gave you to pronounce it.

“Would you like to have a drink with me? On Fridays, I like to go to my friend's bar in Hogsmead and I was wondering, maybe you’d like to come?”

More clearing of the throat. It’s stalling the delivery of his answer, you hate it and almost jump to your cooking station to sort out a quick remedy for it. Your heart is beating so furiously, you might pass out and he’s just taking his sweet time to answer. You feel the awkwardness. You don’t see it. You can’t see anything, the bottom of his face not telling any secrets on his feelings. You must look terrifying, red anywhere it’s possible for you to blush, sweating and fidgety like you’re on a Girding Potion bad trip. And he doesn’t show anything. You’d rip the hair out of his eyes if only you could.

There’s only one telling sign that manifests in the form of his hand, slipping out of his pocket to reach for the back of his neck where it scratches for a bit.

It’s no. It must be a “no, I’m absolutely not interested and this moment is very awkward”.

“I have my dragons to exercise. Sorry.”

“Oh. It’s ok.” It is not.

You hope, with all your might, that he doesn’t notice how upset you are. Through your prickling eyes, through the trembling pout you try to hide behind a casual smile.

It is terribly not ok but fortunately, he doesn’t stick around. That’s probably the thing you’re the most thankful for at this moment, his laconic tendencies. Anyone else may have tried to say something else to make you feel better, to make you feel like the rejection isn't worth throwing you off one of Hogwarts high tour. Instead, he just quits, swiftly. Leaving you alone to compose yourself back enough to handle your very last class of the day. You manage to feel fine, sort of numbed out for long enough until you don’t have to pretend anymore and you can let all the emotions out.

Bent over on the wooden tabletop of Yoongi’s bar, you’re crying out your whole soul, face laid in a pool of your own tears, a gentle hand petting awkwardly the top of your head.

“I hate you Taehyung!” It hardly comes out, half mumbled, half coughed out. The hand on your hair still in the air for a second so he must have got the jest of it until it resumes to its previous activity.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think he’d reject you.” He sighs deeply. “I didn’t even think you’d ask him out!”

“Yeah, what’s up with that?” You rise from the depth of your despair, hidden in the centre of your crossed arms. Yoongi looks extremely distraught. Your face looks awful, you know. But seeing him this shaken upsets you even more. You feel mad and vengeful and you’d like to flood his shitty bar with your tears to teach him a lesson -you’re not sure which, maybe: don’t look so disgusted when your friends look indeed disgusting, that’s mean- but the realisation downs on you that you cried so much you don’t have any tears left. Just the rashness around your eyes and nose, no snot left because Yoongi had maternally cleaned it for you, tiny pathetic sniffling around nothing but heartbreak now.

“He sent him to me!” You bark, punching Taehyung in the shoulder, not caring the least that half of his drink gets spilt everywhere.

“You didn’t have to just ask him out! You could have just, I don’t know (he pretends to think deeply, the tip of his fingers tapping lightly his chin), talk to him! Like a normal person that’s never spoken to him would have done.”

You gasp, eyes burning with fire. “Yoongi, he called me a freak!”

“When have I ever-“

“Normal people, my ass!” You continue, sort of having a lone conversation parallel to theirs. “What do you know about normal people, you fucking Grindylow.” You swallow down your fourth butterbeer, one furious finger indicating Yoongi that you need another one. Taehyung is just rolling his eyes, not taking offence of the nonsensical insult. “I hate you so much, Merlin, how am I supposed to face him again?”

“You do like everyone else’s does. Just start hating him until you don’t care anymore.”

“People do that?” Yoongi asks curiously. He’s slid you a new pint, filled to the brim.

“I know I do.” You slap the back of his arm there, without giving him any explanation, just because you’re sure he’s bullshitting you -the guy surely never has been rejected.

“Doesn’t matter. How could I ever hate him anyway?” A lone survivor tear falls from your lashes into the calm, quiet amber lake topping your glass. It doesn’t hit you there that there’s no foam. Yoongi watches you carefully, one of his hand is patting your forearm.

“Is he really that great?” Taehyung just shrugs. He’s such a dimwit. You nod, heart growing big with sadness before it breathes it out, turning into a tiny, squeezed on itself pained creature. You leave the conversation then. Simply trying to rest with your hurting bosom. It needs nurturing and a benevolent yet firm healing hand to tell it to rest for a bit, and stop overreacting.

[“What's he like?” Yoongi asks directly to Taehyung as he can see, clearly, that you’re not here anymore, for now.

“He’s... uh...” Taehyung starts with very flimsy conviction. “He’s into dragons.” More shrugging.]

Honestly, you might be exaggerating. You do not know much about him. Most of what you believe to know, assumed by what little you do know about him. You believe he is nice and sensible, from the way he treats his animals and the way they treat him.

[“Oh. Holy Dumbledore!”

“Stop saying that! I told you it’s fucking disrespectful.”]

You’ve seen how much respect and trust lay between them. It’s blatant. And to create this kind of relationship with some of the fiercest creatures in the magical world, he must be something else, something exceptional.

[“It’s him. It’s fucking him!”]

And you read about him, a lot, the two books he wrote solely about his creatures. They don’t directly tell much about him but indirectly, they hint his humility and humbleness. It’s not like that stupid Gilderoy Lockhart and his autobiographies on magical creatures. And there are the numerous articles that were written about him and his exploits and alleged character.

[“You’re lying.”

“I’m not!”

Sharp short nails are jabbing annoyingly in the skin of your forearm. It’s Taehyung, of course, he never stops bugging you. It’s his second passion after the soporific subject he’s decided to teach. You close your eyes, frowning a bit because he won’t stop, trying to annihilate him from your existence, to annihilate yourself from it too.]

Simple, humble, smart and strong. Passionate, sensible and a beautiful set of thick dark locks you want to slip your fingers through as the cherry on top.

“It’s apple juice!” You screech in disgust, pushing your fake butterbeer far away from you. The hocus-pocus, if it irritates you, at least brings you back to earth, and back to the noisy bar. Min Yoongi mouths something about you having drunk enough but his attention is elsewhere, along with Taehyung's.

“Oh, Merlin's beard.”

Of course, he would be there. He’s been back to Hogwarts for over a month now, you’ve never seen him around here, but of course, the day he rejects you, he has to come to your retreat, and witness the mess he's made of you. What kind of sick joke from the stars is that?

“Holy shit. Isn’t he a bit much for you?”

You know exactly what the barman means. It makes you blush slightly under the tipsy flushing already adorning your cheeks.

If Jeon Jungkook may or may not be made of all the qualities you’ve named for him -with or without reasons-, he has some very visible, very obnoxious other qualities to him. Qualities that you’re not proud of pining over because it makes you feel shallow and superficial. The expression on Yoongi's face makes it feel better though. Justified. As if, well, here they are, you can’t deny it. And since you like his imaginary personality, you might as well like the body imaginarily hosting it.

Jeon Jungkook is tall as a tree and as strong as one. It’s hard to tell, from here, with the layers of clothes he’s wearing on his back to protect himself from the cold, to what extent he fills them but it’s obvious he’s broad, wide. He walks with strong determined steps, with his fists tight to his sides, as tight as his jaw, square, sharp.

He’s big. Both in appearance and aura and you can understand how Yoongi wonders if he’s not “a bit much” for you.

“Don’t call him over!” You whisper-yell, digging your nails in the tender skin of Taehyung’s forearm. He whines, curses and tries to let himself free while telling you that of course, he’s not that dumb, he won’t. He doesn’t need to, anyway, because the guy, after seemingly exploring with his gaze the bar, sets his aim on your table, slowly starting to make his way towards you.

“He’s coming.” Taehyung mumbles, bewildered.

You are too. Could it be you misunderstood earlier when he said he couldn’t come because he’d be “exercising his dragons”? It can’t possibly be true. You don’t even know what the heck is up with this excuse. Because it can’t have been anything more than an excuse. Since when do dragons need to be exercised and by a wizard at that?

And now he is here.

Literally, he’s standing right in front of your table, a hand reaching for the back of the empty chair, next to yours, but stops mid-track and backs away to his side.

“Hi. Do you mind if I sit here ?”

You can feel, physically, the two heavy heads of your friends, turning slowly on their necks towards you, like an idiotic audience, not wanting to miss one beat of the drama playing for them.

There’s a little snappy answer that rises to the back of your throat. Something inspired by what Taehyung said earlier, about hating him. You almost tell him aloud that he can do whatever he wants, that you don’t own this fucking chair.

Jeon Jungkook is still raspy but soft voice. With his bruised hand with the fingers red from the cold, not assertive and confident enough to dare grab the chair yet and you can’t do much but nod your head, swiftly sliding your own chair to the side to draw a little distance between you.

It takes forever for the initial tension to drop a little bit. You can’t say anything, Taehyung the chatterbox can’t either, Jungkook probably feels too awkward by your behaviours to find a casual way to start the conversation. It’s Yoongi who realises the successful start. By doing what he does best, serving your new guest the best butterbeer there is in Hogsmead (Yoongi would say that it’s the best in the world, both magical and muggle, but given he hasn’t stepped two feet outside of this village for the past two decades, you wouldn’t give him that).

“My name’s Jungkook, by the way.” He starts quietly, in the direction of Yoongi. The latter nods and smiles a bit too eagerly. He tries to be natural, you can tell. And fail miserably, you must add.

“I’m Min Yoongi. Welcome to Jjang Jjang!” Taehyung cringes visibly. Yoongi leans further, towards yours and Jungkooks side of the table, wanting to ignore at best the unhelpful clown beside him. “You must already know...” With a vague hand gesture, he points Taehyung and you. It makes you want to die, the idea that he knows your name, he knows you. You’re unsure what’s going on. Why he’s here, where this will lead. But it would all feel infinitely better if you knew that somehow, he didn’t know anything about you. It’s hard to remember people without their name. It’s the first thing you learn about someone, really, like a tag they’re wearing on their foreheads and when recalling about them, ever, consciously or not, the name comes always. He knows yours so he won't forget you.

It takes all of you a short eternity to warm up to each other. The bar is still noisy, with its occasional rough burst of laughter from the tough-looking wizards, maybe missionaries, the high giggles of a group of Hogwarts 7th year students hidden in a corner. You’re all nurturing your drinks, even you with your stupid apple juice and the unease is even louder, the silence deafening in the middle of the concert of voices and shatters of glasses.

Until Taehyung says something weird, “So you like dragons, uh?” You don't understand why he persists on making it sound weird, like he's romantically interested in them.

You hit him under the table, a good kick to the kneecap but it’s clear to everyone that his yelp comes from you. That makes Jungkook laughs.

He pretty much giggles, sounding like a boy, head tilted down forward with his locks sadly hiding his smile.

“Yeah, you could say that.” He finally answers, clearing his throat, words coming out sweet and sheepish-like, as if he’s embarrassed from having been caught laughing.

“Oh, that explains this.” Yoongi says, pointing at his skin and the numerous bruises orning it. You’ve never hit Min Yoongi because 1) he’s older than you, 2) he’s a tiny little thing that you’re scared to hurt but you are this close, the width of a hair away, from throwing your foot up again and hit him in the junk. For a second, Jungkook seems awkward. Staring himself at his hands, one sliding over the other, the tip of his thumb grazing with insistence on a deep scar. Until he raises his head again, you assume to let his eyes go over your faces, studying them silently and something he sees there, maybe innocent benevolence -even if Yoongi's comment was lowkey inappropriate, he didn’t mean any ill- and something else, childish excitement probably suffice to relax him. Letting his hands be, one wrap around his pint, the other flat on the tabletop, tip of his fingers drumming quietly every now and then, out in the open for anyone who'd like to to see.

“They tend to be a bit playful.” He says this with a sly smile raising the corner of his mouth. Something ridiculously sexy that makes you choke on your fake beer and back away from him even more. You shouldn’t raise an arm to plant your elbow into the table, as a sort of shield between you two, because it’s rude and lame, but you do it anyway. Because it’s all a lot.

He's a lot.

Yoongi, probably, knows you better than you could ever imagine. Seeing right through you, added to the statement he raised earlier -and maybe he was right, maybe he's a whole lot, and a whole lot too much for you-, he reconsiders forbidding you from consuming any more alcohol. Kindly, he manifests a glass of sparkling juice, right in front of you. It's a light peach colour, from the first sniff of the aroma, you can tell it won't knock you unconscious any time soon. It's more sugar than alcohol but at least, it succeeds to soothe the harsh edges of your nerves. Because your nerves are on the verge of a fucking spontaneous combustion.

"Hey! Why does she get another one?" Since earlier, Taehyung, too, has been switched to a strictly non-alcoholic beverages diet. He's not happy about it but you understand easily Yoongi's train of thought. You need to relax so you deserve a little something -especially given the fact that Jeon Jungkook's appearance had you almost entirely sobered up-, while Taehyung's stupid mouth is way too loose and needs to be fed something soft and safe.

"Because he likes me and he hates you." You mutter, not daring to look up from your glass by fear of coming across your neighbour's attention. Your comment is well received though. You allow yourself to joke like that because everyone, Taehyung included, knows that Kim Taehyung is everyone's favourite. No matter the competition. No one can hate him, even when he's boring as hell, even when he's too loud, too nosy, dumb or annoying. He knows it as well as you do and each time you throw one of these snarky taunts, a glint of amusement sparkles his almond eyes and he loves to act all hurt and offended.

He turns all gasps and bombastic hand movements, claiming unfairness, misery. You start nagging back at him, adding more about how dumb he sounds and stupid he looks, while he counteracts with more dramatic appalled cries, as Yoongi just shrinks onto himself, shaking his head in disconcertment -even though, he's too used to your antics to be any surprised nor confused.

You're so caught up in your childish bickerings that slowly, only you two, and the amusement you're trying to contain in your stomach, matter and exist. Jeon Jungkook disappearing entirely. It has your voice turn louder, mimicking Taehyung's, your insults getting bolder, your face raises as you squint your eyes menacingly at your friend.

It's once Taehyung grabs the wand from his pocket and aims it at you, threatening to turn you into a pile of ghoul's shit if you won't shut up, that he's reminded to you.

The giggles, like earlier. Boyish and rusty, uncommon, that can only be his, ring and bless your right ear. It has you shut up instantly. Startled, you stare at him, only for a soft smile to grow on your lips, fond as you are to see him laugh like that, because of you.

You must look stupid as your eyes jump to Taehyung, silently begging him to acknowledge the wonder taking place just next to you, too giddy, too excited, too blushy to be part of it. He just grins back at you, nods his head even though you're not exactly sure at what, one of his elbows poking Yoongi's side.

"How long have you two been friends ?" He asks once he's managed to calm down his fit with a bite on his lower lip. Your heart is running a marathon and you're not sure for how long it'll keep holding up, you might need to focus all of your energy on the course, on not breaking a leg or pass out in the middle of the run, but you refuse, because he's talked to you again, because your best friends are accessorily here to help out, ease a bit of the burden of having to face the terrifying idea of being rejected (again), of failing at being good enough, somehow, to a guy you don't know much but like a lot.

Therefore you answer, aiming a joking dark glare at Taehyung because it helps to look at him, "Too long." Jungkook sniggers at the answer as Taehyung slips his ugly tongue out to you.

Somehow the tension diffuses itself. As if now that all of you had placed a word in the conversation, played somehow a role in it, it feels better, the ice has been melted and you can all, finally, relax.

Without even realising, your elbow slips from the tabletop, you're still wary, still very much aware of him sitting so close to you but you're fine with it.

As the drinks, more or less loaded, flow, Jungkook's cheeks fill up with mountains upon mountains of the fried wonders Jjang Jjang's beloved house-elf, Seokjin, has to offer, the discussion runs smoothly, tongues untied and excited.

It starts with Taehyung telling a very inaccurate version of your first meeting and blooming of this decades-old friendship (you add now and then, when the exaggerations and blatant lies get too much, little modifications to the tale that have Jungkook snigger and nod his head discreetly to you in secret confidence). It continues with Jungkook, pressured by a very adamant audience (which you are not part of, even if you are probably the most interested in the topic, in any topic that would have him speak a bit more, you don't want to bother him with your curiosity which Taehyung and Yoongi do not seem the least disturbed about) telling about the couple of last years he'd spent all around the world, in the most secluded corners of Earth, where only dangerous creatures like his beloved pets live and where only the foolhardiest or most suicidal wizards dare to adventure. As you expected, he's quite humble about it. He doesn't insist on details that make your heads spin in bewilderment, shrugging his shoulders lightly when you're the one whisper-yelling that "but you could've died?!". After a lot of cooing, from all angles of the table, tiny whispers repeating some of his words like a strange echo as you all try to handle the admiration -and intoxication-, he starts feeling himself, a tiny, discreet but visible smile, slyly redrawing the corner of his mouth. He shrugs a little less, nods his head firmly a little more, voice louder and more confident, shaping in the full form it's able to take.

He sounds lovely when he doesn't care anymore. When he feels unrestrained, comfortable and easy-going. He laughs a lot, you notice. It colours almost every single one of yours and your friends' comments, and maybe the fact that you're all a bit dumbed by shock and interest and starstruck and tipsiness makes it so that they're pretty ridiculous, hence him laughing so much. It's not so much that you're all hilarious, rather than you all being pretty stupid but it doesn't matter. You note how easy his laughter, that you couldn't even picture before hearing it for yourself, can come out. How open he is to meddle with you.

He fits so well in your bubble. This personal place only Taehyung and Yoongi have ever been authorized to inhabit. He matches perfectly. It fills your heart and mind with so much content, you feel your cheeks hurt from smiling constantly without meaning too. It's what he does, you suppose, making you smile. And when you notice the pink tint colouring his cheeks, rounded out lovingly so by a grin, you assume he's feeling the same, enjoying his time with all of you, your heart dips in the warmest bath.

"Dude!" For the umpteenth time, he's trying to wave himself some air with a hand. Taehyung has had enough and just slammed his fist to the table, making everything on it knock against each other, Yoongi's eyes this close to falling out of their sockets. Jungkook just giggles some more, he might be a bit tipsy. "Just tie your hair up, you're making me sweat just looking at your mop!"

"I don't even have-" Taehyung's already up from his chair, he bumps his leg in the process but pay it no attention, marching over his future victim with a little hair-tie that seemed to appear from thin air -probably did too. Jungkook is so lenient with your best friend, too lenient you'd say, you wouldn't even have it in you. When he excitedly reaches forward, his long fingers parting the dark locks in two, he's trying to tie one end into a little side ponytail. Before he's even done with the first one, you roll your eyes, knowing what he's aiming for. Of course, he wouldn't just give him a regular manbun or something.

For the first time, you meet one of Jungkook's eyes, the one uncovered thanks to Taehyung's shenanigan. It's round, dark but warm like rich chocolate, sparkling with exhilaration but concerned.

"What's he doing?" He asks you, unbeknownst to the fact that meeting half of his face for the first time, the endearing pretty thing, stole every single little last word from you. With two fists hold to the side of your head, you attempt to show him the cute girly hairstyle Taehyung has in mind. He winces at that, nose scrunching into itself so high, the round thing turns into something adorable, shaking his head to try to free himself from your friend's prying hands, a grin still on his lips.

"Stop being such a baby!" Taehyung growls, trying for a little while to keep ongoing, his hand desperately holding onto the second bunch of hair. He's soon forced to stop as the victim turns to be too unwilling. "Ok fine! You do it then!"

It's you he is barking to. If the hair tie thrown straight in your eye is any teller. It renders you blind for a second. Until you can blink the stingy discomfort away and you’re greeted by Jungkook and his endearing face with the oh so adorable tiny tail hanging from the side of his head, observing you with great attention, single eye blinking worrisome. He looks cute, half dolled up like a girl, fearful and curious to discover how you’ll treat him. For a second, you are tempted to follow your friend's design. Because how cute would this man look with two ponytails hanging on top of his head, with maybe even tiny hair clips to perfect it all.

He’d be pissed though and wouldn’t keep it probably so what’s the point.

The real point is that you have a hair tie in your hand, fingers itching on instinct to play with the shiny raven locks and the owner of said pretty locks, silently permitting you to do just that.

Maybe Taehyung is not as dumb and as useless as you thought him to be. Your prior reflex would be to assume he didn’t even mean to create this opportunity for you. He’s just invading as a person, touchy-feely and very comfortable with anyone entering his vicinity. You do owe him more credits and you willingly give them to him for this time. Because if he didn’t intend to put your foot on the stirrup, he surely did anyway, with a natural and a smoothness you couldn’t imagine coming from him.

Standing behind Jungkook's chair, hands hovering centimetres away, you feel so blessed, you’d jump over to Taehyung's side to snug him to your fervent heart if you didn’t have better at hand -and if the idea of actually having him this close to you did not fill you with an immense cringe.

Taehyung is watching, over the rim of his glass, with an obnoxious, kid like excited sparks burning you uncomfortably. You curse him out, soundlessly but with such great articulation, he can’t possibly miss the words.

Yoongi who watches all of it notices and understands it all as he always does even when he pretends he doesn’t, starts talking then. Something about Brazil where Jungkook had spent nine months, living alone in the wild forest of Amazonia, and about the curious plants and fruits he heard that could be found there. It’s a nice distraction. Soon Jungkook is on it again, Taehyung partakes a role in it too, leaving you alone to handle the grandiose yet terrifying fantasy that is touching and messing with Jungkook's hair.

The first ponytail comes undone easily, the hair tie simply slipping off with just the tip of your fingers to guide it.

When you timidly start, reaching with two hands to grab all of the hair from him, you feel a rush of blood to your cheeks, heart skipping beats and perspiration bubbling at your temple. Your fingers just have to graze slightly the skin of his neck, all warm and soft, you have to do it a few times even because his pretty locks are rebellious and your fingers too willing to let them run in between them, silky as they are.

There’s a strand refusing your gentle taming, slipping from your grasp and falling in front of his eye. You go to catch it back, meeting hot fingers on his temples. Yours surrender immediately. Jungkook from the corner of his eye, over his shoulder, throw you a glance and a smile. A small one, small but fond.

"Doesn't it get lonely?" Yoongi asks as Jungkook tucks the strand behind his ear.

"Not really. I'm used to it." He shrugs. You take your sweet, sweet time to finish the half-bun, half-tail hairdo you're working on. Somehow something lovely has settled. Something comfortable, domestic. He's not wary of your touch, letting you mess with his hair, not even flinching when, tentatively, just taking a chance, just once, the pad of your thumb stroke the hot skin of his neck. "Dragons can be very affectionate-" That makes Taehyung cackles as Yoongi gasps in disbelief. You have a hard time picturing those creatures as affectionate. Jungkook is different anyway. You need to be different to go after the path he's chosen for himself. "I swear!" Taehyung rolls his eyes, shaking his head.

"Have you considered all this time spent away from civilization turned you mad?"

The bun is done, sadly. You made it last for as long as you could but eventually, as every perfect moment, it has to come to an end. You don't even bother to hide your dread as you let your ass drop to your chair, puffing.

"Leave him alone, moron." A few peanuts to his stupid head and Taehyung stops messing with Jungkook, stops acting like he's insane and starts telling about something no one cares about -so much so, Yoongi leaves to go chat up an old goblin who's just entered the bar.

Jungkook turns to you, leaning a bit. Smiling quietly, gently. As if he doesn't realise the face he owns once his hair isn't hiding the majority of it anymore.

It must be a joke. He must know. He must have noticed how his straight, dark eyebrows, with the cut splitting the right one in half, gives an irresistible, dark, mature shape to the roundest, sparkliest set of eyes the world has ever seen. He must know his face is a wonderful work of art, with the tiny little details, here and there, adding charms and depth and uniqueness, that only the greatest, only a special artist would know to use -like this faint scar linking a mole under his lip to the corner of his mouth, or the one craving in the top of his cheek. His colours are splendid too. While you'd always seen him with black everything, black hair, black clothes, quiet sombre aura and a tiny bit of red, you'd catch sometimes, where he'd hurt his hands. Never would have you thought, he's more harlequin than monochromatic. Golden scopes, tipsy patches of red matching the tiny pout he owns for a mouth, eyes not dark but the richest shade of chocolate.

"You," Jungkook starts in a whisper, now so close you have a whiff of his smell, torturous scent of pinewood, of soot, and something else, more natural, sweat most definitely but turns out to be the better element of the mixture, suave, awfully addictive. "you believe me, don't you?" You need a full minute to get your brain's vessels to connect. A full minute during which you have no idea what the hell he's talking about, what words are and how to use them, and all you can focus on is not dying from a heart attack -and also, not show that you are having one.

You shake your head up and down, still unsure to what you're agreeing to. It does not matter that much because he's smiling the way he does. The adorable smile another wonderful novelty, shaped like a bunny one, eating up his upper lip into the thinnest cupid bow. The sparks in his eyes, on his cheeks, from excitement, mirth. He's really here with you, warmer than you've ever thought him able to be, and somehow, different than what you had expected, but thousand times more endearing. Having developed a crush on him previously makes more and more sense by the second.

"Thank you for the invitation." He says quietly. You don't miss a single word, nor the least flinch in his intonation (soothing, genuine), even in the loudness of the bar, because, for some reason, he's never leaned back. He remains there, hardly a dozen of centimetres away from you.

"No problem." You lie, effortlessly after a few gulps of liquid courage. If you're enchanted by the evening, the unexpected turns of events, he still made you go through a short misery for this. He must see your awkwardness, he must notice how you're sweating bullets and swallowing with difficulty. How your eyes keep battling between wanting to bath in his and avoid them at all cost. Jungkook doesn't budge though and it almost gets annoying, almost upset you how he doesn't care -or maybe simply doesn't realise- the effect he's having on you. "I thought you couldn't-" You start, meaning to sting him a bit because he deserves it.

"I finished early, and um-"

"Was it even real?" You ask, genuinely curious to have him clear this out for you. It's not like you're mad anymore. On your face, you only feel a tingle at the apple of your cheeks from how many smiles and waves of laughter you've shared, the desperate tears from earlier long dried and gone. "The excuse, I mean."

"It wasn't an excuse..." Jungkook turns his face away from you then. Biting hard on his bottom lip, a traitorous grin hardly contained. The tip of his ears are flushed, you wonder from what, until you see his hand raising to the top of his head where it flats down hair that doesn't need it. "I- I just-" Maybe it's seeing him this abashed that pushes you forward, literally, scraping your chair to the wooden floor, thigh meeting his in the process. "I was startled when you- asked. When you said my name even, I wasn't- like- expecting it and I'm not used to-" He cuts himself off, a hand vaguely motioning the room.

"To what?" You insist, mimicking his murmuring tone, terrified as you are to pop out the little bubble now only he and you dwell.

"Going out with people or just- hang out, I don't know." He looks inherently embarrassed now. Possibly even a bit saddened, you note. Still, his face remains open, kind, the ever-boyish smile teasing at least the corner of his lips. You don't mean to be so sappy but you wish, consciously, right this second, for this very moment to last an eternity or at least, for your memory to take a picture realistic enough, as in-depth and detailed as possible so that you'll be able to recall and relive it for years to come.

"Oh. Dragons don't like to go clubbing?" He bumps your thigh with his knee, chortling at your words but shaking his head nonetheless. As you stare at his thigh, covered by a cheap black cloth stretched to the very limit, stuck to yours, almost supported by yours, sending a continuous channel of heat from there to the pit of your stomach, it seems like you've reached a determining point. A definite phase where you can handle him (more or less). Enough not to liquefy on the spot at his every glance, while remaining way too aware of him, his smell, his warmth, every sound coming out of his mouth, his lovely, lovely charms.

You really like him.

"My head hurts." Taehyung's half-dead on the table. You're not too worried because as his head lies flat, his hair marinating in a pool of spilt beer, he can mumble with a lot of coherence about how heavy his head feels, and how it will probably weigh this much until Monday. Jungkook grabs a bunch of tissues to try to slip under Taehyung's head as an absorbing pillow, it's no use though, because Taehyung, strangely enough, feels too comfortable in this position to let himself be disturbed. Jungkook seems concerned, a bit bothered even -way more than you are because you are very much used to this depiction of lame- until Yoongi passes by, observing with deep disapproval written all over his face. He kicks on purpose one of Taehyung's chair legs, making him groan, and leaves.

Greediness turns you bold. Knocking Jungkook's leg the same way he did earlier, you call back his attention on you. For some reason, he stares at your legs, touching. You wonder for a second if you shouldn't have. It's not that much, he did it earlier, but maybe you shouldn't have. He's too pensive. Doesn't budge a muscle. In deep reflection. You hit him again, a tiny little push, and a few others to follow, like an annoying bratty kid trying to steal someone's attention. His hand finds its way to your knee then, enclasps it entirely, thumb pressing and you have no idea if any of this means anything, but it does send a rush of jolt straight between your legs. Surely he doesn't mean this use of firmness to turn you on, does he? How could he even guess it having this effect? You didn't even know it yourself.

It does work though. You stop acting like a feisty little brat, patiently waiting for him to be ready to listen to you. He pretends, mean as he is, that the hand won't stay, letting it slide slightly away from your knee. It doesn't go far though. Somehow it's comfortable a bit higher on your thigh. Not very high. It's awfully PG, awfully casual and platonic, but it serves to drive you a little breathless.

With the wide glassy eyes, the small smile that keeps finding its seat on his lips each time he turns to face you, he's all ears, all eyes, just for you. It's infuriating. Galvanizing. You lavish in it.

"You said it doesn't get lonely?" You blurp out, putting all efforts on focusing on the question you are sincerely curious about. If you didn't have it blinking loud and bright in your brain for the past ten minutes, you would have had it long lost and forgotten. He's messing with your head. But you owe to ask. The curious sadness, that you may have imagined for all you know, you saw briefly earlier needs to be addressed.

If it ever were there, it's gone anyway. As he stares into your eyes, seemingly pondering his next words around in his head, there's a gleam shining to you personally there.

"It doesn't when you don't know what you're missing."

"I don't feel too good, puffskein." Taehyung burps out. Thanks to some miracle, he doesn't end up vomiting all over the table but it's obvious he's this close to it and needs to be taken home. It takes all the goodness of your soul, all of it, to control your urge to grab your wand and throw a forbidden curse on his stupid ass.

The asshole makes you out to be an ungrateful friend, appreciation long gone, aggravation deeply grounded. It was going so well.

"Sorry about Taehyung." You start, wincing a bit. Your back leaned against the door of your room, it's late, quiet and badly lit up in Hogwarts' hallways. Taehyung is sound asleep in his bed, fully clothed and wrenching of a burp who turned down to be vomit. You've managed to use your wand on him, something to make sure he'll have a long and safe night and a rather gentler awakening tomorrow.

Jungkook pretty much carried him on his back, all the way to his bed, without much of a complaint, only a growl or two when Taehyung showed himself difficult in the capricious stairs hall -because it's the best and safest place to try and stumble, blindly, drunk out of your mind.

"It's fine. I had a great time."

"Dragging Tae's drunk ass all the way here was fun to you?" You tease, squinting at him. You know what he means. You know that he knows what you mean. You're only trying to earn time. Just a little bit more time. It's late, he's about to leave you for his room, you assume, and you're not just ready for it yet.

"Maybe not this part."

You don't know what to say to make him stay. It's not like you could possibly invite him inside, is it?

Yoongi would say it's way too soon. Another version of you, maybe a twenty-four-hour younger version of you, the one that didn't know him from this close yet, that didn't get to talk and undergo the full experience that is Jeon Jungkook, to feel his hand on your thigh, his pretty eyes -Merlin, there is a time when you didn't even suspect he hid those wonders right here- would agree. It's not your kind, to have hook-ups. You wouldn't even know how to.

That being said, it's not like you often meet Jeon Jungkooks.

You're not that greedy. You're sure of it. When he's leaning himself against the wall, shoulder pressed against it to support himself, head slightly tilted, watching you soundly, the corner of his lips always curled upward. His eyes say it all. Completely black in the shadow, hooded, tempting. Sending heat to your core, shudders along your spine, tingles to the tip of your fingers.

If he says something, if he suggests anything, you'll say yes. He just has to say it. You've been courageous enough already. Asking him out, talking to him, and everything else. You just can't. You can't imagine admitting out loud what you wish to happen now, exposing yourself to him again by asking him if he'd like to stay the night.

And it's too soon, isn't it?

But Hell, you still have the lucid memory of his hair, running in between your fingers and it's become undeniable how bad you'd like to have it again except this time, you could be less delicate.

"I should probably go."

The disappointment is the language you speak because you're too tired to filter the vexation in your voice, "What, your dragons need to be tucked in?"

"Uh?" He chortles. All teeth out, eyes a bit wide, he regards your face, evidently amused. "Is there anything on your mind you'd like to share, maybe?"

"Absolutely not." You're bratty. It's the tiredness and maybe the butterbeer too. Undoubtedly the frustration. Arms crossed, looking away, pouting because somehow you are unable to relax your mouth and need to be so obvious about it all.

"Are you mad at my dragons?" Jungkook asks lightly. If you don't dare look at his face right now, you can guess it. He must have that smirk you've seen a glimpse of a few times tonight. From your peripheral vision, you can tell he's mocking you. Standing away from the wall, a step closer to you, chest puffed out and arms crossed on it.

"Why would I be?" You mumble, ever so vexed.

"Exactly." He's holding back a laugh, you can hear it louder than if he were to let it out.

Continuing, same tone, same pout, squinting harder at the void that is the end of the hall, "They sound awesome, I have no reason-"

"They are. You should meet them."

Startled, you look up to him, eyes wide with both fear and interest. "Should I?"

"Yeah." His tongue swipes swiftly over his bottom lip before he bites on it for a second, pondering. "Go to bed now so that you're in good shape tomorrow and I'll introduce you then."

Of course, he'd be so casual about it but the idea kind of blows your mind. "Really?" You've seen dragons from afar a very few times, during competitions or this one time, with Taehyung at that circus in Wales. But never have you approached one. Like most wizards, at least all wizards holding the basic amount of worth necessary to their life, it's not something you want to do: approach a dragon. You know that for the Care of Magical Creatures class, Jungkook only brings one dragon at a time. The class with their professor standing on one end of a wasteland, and Jungkook, at least a hundred feet away, presents them the animal.

"Yeah," Jungkook says again, bobbing his head along. You're dazzled by the light the grin adorning his face brought. He really wants to show you his dragons. "But early. Like super early. They're tired in the morning so they won't be too... agitated."

"Is this supposed to reassure me?" He shrugs with the same cheerful beaming.

"Did you hurt yourself with Taehyung?" For the third time tonight, you've seen him reach a hand over his shoulder, messily massaging the muscle with a tiny grimace on his face. He hasn't mentioned it so you did not bring it up but the thought that maybe it's your dumbass of a best friend who's responsible awakes your guilt.

"No, it's not Taehyung." He scoffs. Almost offended that you could imply he hurt himself that way. "I had a bad fall."

"On your back? How do you fall on your back?" There are, actually, a lot of ways for someone to fall on their back but somehow, you can only imagine Quidditch players to have the occasion to do so. You haven't fallen to the ground since you were twelve and finally mastered the skill of flying on a cheap broomstick. But Jungkook is different, right?

"Tina. You'll meet her tomorrow."

Tina. One of his dragons. Of course. He sounds so excited to introduce you to a mythical creature who manifestly attacked him, you start to wonder if that's not the thing that is wrong about him. Because everything is too sweet and lovely and perfect about him, something must be wrong -or else, it's not fair. And maybe his thing is that he is batshit crazy.

"Anyway," A clearing of the throat -you almost missed those, "go to bed. Sleep tight. Tomorrow, I want you-" Your heart stops in your bosom. There's the tongue winking at you again, through his pink lips, it's indecent, makes you forget it all about his alleged insanity, "alive and kicking."

You roll your eyes, raising your eyebrows, bewildered by his choice of words. He laughs, again. The boyish one but quieter, as if he's scared to wake the castle or just a grumpy painting possibly hanging somewhere in the dark. It's lovely. "Thanks for walking me to my room. And for Tae." You say, sincerely, turning to your door to open it.

"You're very welcome." Before you disappear in your suite, you glance his way. It's sappy-you again, needing to take a mental picture of his face, with the hair still pushed back, the rebellious strand from earlier curling against his cheek, his handsome everything, his soft expression and charming smile. He doesn't seem to mind. If anything he's doing the same, not hinting to a departure until you take it upon yourself that maybe, it's enough staring at each other wordlessly for tonight and you wave him goodnight, closing the door behind you.

By Merlin's beard, what the hell happened today?

And what the fuck is going on, now?

Your ass down on the hard ground, head dizzy, with a little warm tingling sensation in the crook of your neck.

Jungkook is standing, looking like he’s a thousand feet tall with his long legs, chest puffed out and leaning upward. He’s facing Tina, the infamous Tina, about his height if you put aside the long tail laying flat to the ground in between her legs. She's a bright degraded of a deep purple and a fire red, covered in scales, sharp and standing upwards every few seconds as if they're breathing along with her lungs.

He has a forearm blocking her jaws open, glaring with the most severe set of eyes you could never have imagined on him boring holes in her flamboyant ones. He’s growling things in a language you think you recognise as Romanian, barking in her face as he forces his arm deeper, gagging her, not caring about the sharp teeth digging in his skin.

After a while of the strangest and scariest staring contest you’ve ever witnessed, the tail lying between her legs flap once and she whines a heartbreaking mewl.

His face softens at that, slightly, he frees her from his arm, taking a step back while keeping an attentive eye on her.

Tina snivels more, as soon as her master’s attention hints at leaving her, rubbing the tip of her gigantic snot against his shoulder blade.

“Not now.” He says, sending her away with a pat to the side of her neck.

This is the weirdest thing you’ve ever experienced.

You simply remain there, staring, gaping, trying to process it all.

You’ve been jumped by a dragon and Jeon Jungkook is-

“Are you okay? I’m so sorry.” He still has his hair pushed back in a messier bun than the one you made for him yesterday as if he knows that you like him a lot like that. Therefore nothing is hiding the most pitiful look you've ever seen on anyone's face when he looks down to you. Eyebrows dropping low above shiny wide pearls, his two hands reaching for you, munching nervously on his lip.

-Terrible. You just had the biggest fright of your entire life -and probably, hopefully, the last one of the kind- and all you can think about, is how wet you got from Jungkook growling like an animal, and somehow intimidating the fiercest animal there is to submission.

“She doesn’t- I didn’t think she’d be that excited, I’m sorry, ___.” He mumbles, guilt laced in every syllabus he pronounces. You accept one of his hand, sliding yours against his palm, hot and calloused, sending warm all over your body as he squeezes around your fingers. “It’s my fault. She’s used to playing rough with me and she doesn’t control her strength very well yet-“

He bends over, catching your second hand in his and lifts you, a bit too strongly given how you are entirely made of mush right now. You hit his chest in the process, he has to steady you once you’re up on your wobbly legs. He holds you with a hand to your upper arm, still hot, still firm, it has the blood to your face boil even more. What kind of experience would it be to bathe entirely in this warmth, to have not the least stupid barrier in between yours and his skin, to feel his firm hold grabbing you, his whole body covering you and pressing you down?

You need to focus on the pets.

Tina seems upset, a few meters away, her tail slapping the ground impatiently but her head held low. There are three others, different sizes and spices, quietly laying above the trees forming the forest glade. They’re watching inquisitively, quiet, as cats would, you had no idea they could behave like that but then again, they were raised by this fucking guy.

The guy still holding you close, breathing hard over your forehead, who’s most definitely searching for your eyes you are deliberately not allowing him to meet. You’re not mad. A bit shook still maybe. You’re just soaked, head filled with inappropriate thoughts you're terrified he might hear from how loud they are. And the oblivious idiot keeps apologising and asking if you’re fine because you should not be, you should probably be more traumatised, certainly not aroused as you are, especially when he’s feeling this guilty. You catch a wobble in one of his words and wonder if he could even cry from a guilty conscious.

Therefore you grant him a glance.

“I’m fine, Jungkook. Really.”

He must see something there, hear the subtle tilt your voice, too soft, has taken because he nods, visibly relaxing. His hand departs slowly, fingers grazing your skin.

“Jungkook, I have something for you.” You say it like you know where it’ll lead. Frankly, you have no idea. You can hope, wish very loud and clear in your mind, but you can’t bet on it. “For your back.” You fish out of your shoulder bag a tiny flask. With its shimmery blue content, the tag on it with his name and a short note consisting of wishes of healing you’re somehow embarrassed to show him. “I made it before coming. It should fix your back in no time.”

“That’s very kind of you, ___. Thank you.” He grabs your hand along with the bottle as if he couldn’t take it on its own, and now you’re sure he knows what he’s doing to you. He can’t be innocently stealing all of these touches from you without knowing how intensely pleasing it feels all over.

“Don’t thank me yet, you might not like the... process.” He raises an eyebrow, head slanting to the side. “It’s a bit uncomfortable for like... 30 seconds and then it gets better.”

“How uncomfortable?”

“Well... Nothing too bad. I’m sure you handled way worse.” He can see you’re not completely honest with him. For your defence, looking at all the scars scattered on the very few skin your eyes have access too, he must be used to some kind of pain. It’s not painful per se. It is uncomfortable. Like dipping a firstly warmed up skin in a cryogenic liquid for half a minute kind of uncomfortable. He senses it. Watching the strange liquid carefully, suspiciously, he’s not certain he’ll use it.

“Is it dangerous?”

You scoff, hands raising to your sides, “No, I mean- Not if you apply it correctly, it’s fine.”

“If I-“ He worries at his lip, frowning, mentally debating the subject as if it’s that much of a big deal. Honestly, the risk, is, not that tragic. An over-application can cause a curious discolouration that will, later on, turn into a marble-like blue patch -it might be definite but you’re not sure-, you can potentially burn your skin too but usually, it only happens -and it’s the case with any magical ointment really- if it’s mixed with another ingredient it shouldn’t come in contact with or on a body that’s already under certain charms -which is not his case, you assume-, and of course, an ointment made for local application should in no circumstances be ingested. It’s not that complicated. He doesn’t need to look so scared and suspicious.

“For Merlin’s sake, Jungkook! Don’t use it if-“ You aim to snap it out of his hand but he’s quicker, holding up where you can’t reach, the corner of his eyes crinkling cutely.

“No I want to but- can you do it for me? You worried me.”

“You really are a big baby, aren’t you?” He shrugs, doesn’t deny it. He looks cute like that. Dancing on his two feet, munching on his lip, hands deep in the pockets of his pants. “Fine.” You say without meaning it. You wouldn’t say that you’re fine or that you’ll be fine.

When he walks you to his cabin, twenty meters away from the dragons' playground, your heart starts beating hard and fast, more furiously at every step. It might not mean much more than a nurse job. At the same time, would it make any sense for you to not take the opportunity to take a step and make it more than that? Kim Taehyung would turn you into some kind of pile of whatever gross creature's shit if he were to hear that.

The cabin is super tiny, rustic and barely equipped. Wooden floor, wooden walls, wooden furniture -if you can call them that. Mentally, you curse at Mrs Umbridge. If she didn’t plan this on purpose just because she despises the guy and his pets. You can tell he sleeps in it because of the shitty mattress sitting on a pile of wooden boxes, with the sheets unmade. Discarded used clothes in a corner, a little tower made of books that all seem to be about travelling, magical creatures and travellers’ autobiographies. It’s dark, smells like soot with a tint of something sweet, as if the remnants of a pastry made of cinnamon is hiding somewhere.

Jungkook excuses himself for the mess, even if it’s not much compared to the poor condition he must have received the cabin as, jumping to the only window to tear open the dusty curtain.

It brings a bit of light inside, a subdued but warm yellow-ray coming straight from the barely awakening Sun.

It feels a bit stuffy in here. With him taking over the whole space, and your lungs struggling to pump normally. It feels too intimate, to be standing a few steps away from the place he sleeps in at night. Too intimate because you're not used to it, and two days ago, or even fucking yesterday morning, you would have never thought you'd ever be standing here.

"It's cosy."

You comment, humming to yourself, at the same time as he asks, "Should I take off my shirt?"

You almost choke, tilting your head, watching him with misplaced shock. He's already holding the hem of his black shirt higher on his stomach, exposing smooth golden skin, tight on a thin, sculpted waist, a trail of teasing black hair under his belly button, yet looking at you with his wide round eyes, unsure, quite innocent somehow.

"I don't think you need to- the whole thing." Coward-you hurries to answer, trying to divert your attention to anything but him.

Jungkook turns around, giving you his back and raising his hands to the back neck of his shirt, wincing silently, as he lifts the cloth. The back is almost worst than the front. The thin waist you had a glimpse of, the smooth skin with the golden highlights, the cute dimples at the bottom of his back, the developed, beautifully drawn muscles. A dizzying hot flush takes over your head.

This guy is a mystery. Under his thick, oversized clothes, you knew he was well built, but never would you have expected that. It's not like you care about it usually but with him standing in front of you, smelling so wonderful, with this thing, intense and unique, linking and running in between you two, you can't ignore it all. You can't ignore nor deny how attracted you are and giddy and greedy at the idea of seeing it, of touching it all -when most people don't even get close enough to him to suppose what he's hiding.

It's easy to get back to Earth and the present moment with the large, blue hematoma marking his right scapula. It looks painful as hell, so much so you wonder how he's been handling it so far, how he hasn't visited the infirmary yet, how often it happens and if he always simply tighten his jaws and take the pain until it just leaves.

He turns you cheesy again. You'd like to lean forward and press a kiss to make it better. You wouldn't dare though, and you know, for a fact, that the ointment you prepared for him would be an infinite amount of times more effective to heal him.

He shudders at some point. Probably because you're taking a short eternity to do anything, or just say anything, silently contemplating instead.

Gulping hard, you start, "Bear with me, ok? It'll be better in no time." He grumbles something to himself, way too quiet for you to hear over the loud popping of your potion's bottle and the even louder rummaging of your heart in your bosom.

The first drops seem to be fine. He's not squirming under the gentle touch of your fingertips, handling the strange sensation that the potion causes at first, instantly warming up at the contact with skin. He even relaxes, letting you spread evenly all over the bruise, calm and still as the perfect patient. Until he squeals.

"Fuck, what- ah!"

On reflex, he tries to bend and twist, attempting desperately to avoid the inhumanly freezing discomfort burning his skin. You try to hold him still, hands clasped to his shoulders but he wouldn't stop wriggling, whining like a hurt puppy.

For a tough guy, he can't handle much, you decide. It's amusing but concerning as you see him move around so much, you can imagine how he's stimulating the pain coming directly from his injury rather than the ointment.

"Jungkook, stop!" He manages to knock the pile of his books down with a blind kick. "It'll last just a few seconds, calm down!" Your hands fully pressed against his bruise, the heat coming from your overly agitated heart helping, it releases some of the cold. Somehow your tiny hands on his broad back are enough and he sighs in contentment, just a tiny whimper uttered as a remnant of his short but intense torment.

"Are you ok?" You ask after a few minutes. His breathing has quieted down too. His shoulders hanging low, his head relaxed, ease and comfort have taken over his body and mind.

"Yeah. But-" Tentatively, he tests out his right shoulder, rolling it up and down a few times, a tiny impressed 'wow' escapes him and you grin to yourself, enchanted to see him acknowledge your talent. "When you said discomfort-"

"Sorry about that. I thought you wouldn't want to try but it's worth it, isn't it?"

"It is." He has a sudden burst of laughter when he turns around, flashing you a relieved smile. You can read in his eyes that he's a bit surprised, a bit confused himself about what's so funny, probably settling on the little fright the experience gave him. You won't mention that the potion, if it's so effective and this, so quickly, is because it has very highly active ingredients that mess with the organism as soon as it penetrates the skin and his insides might be a tiny bit all over the place for a few moments.

Suddenly, a big whooshing sound comes from outside, seemingly knocking against the front wall of the cabin and making it shake on its hinges. It just makes him chuckle some more, not worried the least and beyond amused by your reflex to step towards him, hands raised, this close to grabbing a hold of his shirt.

"It's just Tina getting impatient, don't worry."

"Don't worry?" You scoff. The mention of her name brings back the memory from earlier. For some reasons, Jungkook's presence now and inside that memory, make it all seem rather mundane but you're sure, you're positive that you should feel traumatized by what happened. A dragon fucking attacked you. Jungkook shoots you a crooked smile you can't say you recognise. With a little bite on the corner of his bottom lip, dark eyes squinted yet shinning mischief.

"You're safe with me." He says, voice low, teasing, as one of his hand reaches for his index and thumb to pinch lightly at your waist.

"Because they're scared of you somehow?" He laughs again, hand now encompassing your side, staring down at you. He looks so inhumanly attractive. You're confused where this intensity comes from. If it's simple lust, coming from a genuine natural place, the same as yours. Or if the potion is not still messing with him, and his hormones, possibly. It shouldn't. It's been a good ten minutes and his build wouldn't entail this long of a repercussion.

"They're not scared. They just know who's the alpha." He explains with the cockiest shit-eating grin you've ever seen. Even greasy Gilderoy Lockhart doesn't have those. You'd find him gross if he was a hundred per cent committing to the act. There's a lurch though, in the way chocolate marbles shine in childish amusement, the tendentious beam turning into a boyish one, biting back something you know would sound like a giggle if he let it escape. You chuckle yourself, hitting him on the chest -because now that he's healed, he can take it. He doesn't budge an inch, doesn't back the slightest away from you. If anything, the hand holding you slide a bit further behind your back, keeping you close. "I'm just kidding." He whispers, voice as soothing as his attentive gaze as turned. So attentive you feel your face burn with shame. As a poor attempt to deflect your focus on this, your hand raises to his chest again, fingers scrapping at a tiny default in his shirt.

"You're not." He snickers. "I still don't understand how you're not scared of them..." The question somehow was never brought up. The whole night, the day before, your friends and you spend your time praising him and asking so many questions about his life and dragons in general, the things he's seen, the things he's done, the reasons that push him to take this orientation -something about adventure and wanting to see where the world ends was the answer however you could tell it wasn't entirely the real one- but you never actually asked how come he's not terrified of these deadly creatures.

"Honestly, your students are way scarier to me than they are." Your eyes grow big with surprise as you simper. You naturally lean a bit back as you laugh, and he follows you, for some reasons, eyes fixed on you, a tiny smile shaping his mouth. "That one girl the other day, the way she looked at you."

"Yeah, they can be real brats sometimes."

"My dragons, on the other hand, are super playful and soft." He sounds like a little boy, trying to brag about his alleged better pet. Of course, he'd be lethally sexy a second and undeniably adorable the next.

"You're a bit weird, Jeon." Jungkook shrugs, not sure what to say to that because he knows you're right. He can also hear in your voice that you don't mind and he's not sure how to say that he's glad you don't. Because he doesn't say anything you force yourself to look up, study his handsome face to read him. His expression is precisely what you expect yours to look like. Content yet expecting for something more, enamoured.

It's just hard to take the first step. Impossible to overcome.

Only now, from so close he can probably feel your breath hitting his neck, you notice he has a thin beard decorating his jaw. There's a patch missing on the left. You press the tip of your index to the tender skin, noting he's probably got burnt.

"That's what happens when a baby with a cold refuses to leave your shoulder." "It sneezed on you?" He nods, grinning. "I could make something for that. And for your eyebrow too." You stare, your finger caressing the soft skin, cheating a bit and slipping to the side of his jaw where there's nothing except a barely unshaven skin. Jungkook sucks in a breath.

"Would you?"

"If you want me too. You'd be losing charm points for sure but-"

"Oh, I have those?"

For some reasons, it’s this moment your memory chooses to recycle your friend’s words. The ones about him being that great. With the pretty gold glimmer coming from his peculiar round eyes, you do not doubt that he is. “As if.” You roll your eyes, jaded by his certain lie.

And the ones about him possibly being a lot, being too much to handle follow quickly behind. He is a whole lot, from head to toes, to the very essence of his character. The thing is he’s dipped in a thick pool of sweet honey, rounding his edges into something so much more accessible, too easy to swallow, how could you not try. “Let’s not fix it then,” He starts, one of his hand roughly rubbing at his short beard. “you already have too many ahead of me.” You give him a doubtful “oh really?” look he greets with an amused grin. He’s pretty smooth for a guy that hardly ever interacts with women and humans in general. You almost ask if his pets give him dating advice but you decide to keep it for later. The cat and mouse game is getting hard to endure. You’re not bored of it but you know you’re both ready for it to turn a little less playful and a little more decisive -also you don’t know exactly what time it is, however, you do know you have a class in the morning. It (whatever it is) won’t happen with you bullying him restlessly. Maybe one of you will get tired of watching so closely the other's face, you both know the details by heart by now, are probably even able to draw them with your eyes closed, and act. There’s a subtle frown messing up his handsome face. A tiny dip of the starting lines of his eyebrows and a pout reshaping his lips. “I’m really sorry about that.” He mutters, shame dripping from his words. The pad of his thumb raises to your neck, grazing ever so lightly the skin surrounding the tiny cut Tina gave you earlier. It’s not that bad. Doesn’t even hurt anymore. When your heart is beating so fast, when your cheeks are burning so high, when your core is quivering so much, you barely remember about the cut on your neck ever hurting. He seems so sorry though. And then he’s leaning towards you, dubious eyes not leaving yours until he’s hidden in the crook of your neck and can’t see you anymore, and softly, presses his lips to the bruise. It feels like a seizure in your heart. It shouldn’t be much but it is, the softest touch, most delicate, also a beautiful promise for more to come.

You relax under him, his arm naturally sliding further behind you, pulling you flush against him. You tend your neck, expecting more, demanding more. He instead breathes in, nose buried in your hair, humming to himself as if the scent pleases him before he’s kissing your neck again, this time a more resolute kiss, with a tough pressure, a louder smack.

You can’t help but giggle, he sniffed you like an animal would, like a dragon would. The giggle turns into an embarrassing fit of laughter, the tension wearing you out probably helping a lot.

“What’s so funny?” Jungkook asks, cheeks flushed, eyes bright with curiosity and a smile translating his bemusement. He backs away for a second, just to see your face.

“Sorry-“ More giggles, he pinches your side, you barely manage to bite your laughter back in your throat. “Sorry but you’re really- I just didn’t realise to what extent you’ve been raised by dragons.”

He’s confused you can tell, frowning in deep thought yet not looking the least vexed. It makes you smile. Seeing him looking so adorable, a little lost, a little embarrassed. You kiss the palm of his hand, the one that’s sitting where it fits perfectly, tucked in the crook of your neck, his eyes grow big for a split second. “Cause I smelled you? Was it weird? I’m sorry, I’m just used to- like- smells are imp-“

He made it so easy for you to press your lips to his. Everything about him, from his smell to his warmth, to his smiles both from his pretty flushed lips and from the wonders he owns for eyes, his voice soothing, welcoming, words always gentle, always soft. He’s both the unknown and at the same time, the most comfortable aura you’ve ever wanted to dip in.

It’s hesitant at first, or more precisely sheepish, like testing the waters. Figuring out where you’re stepping in, noticing you’re barely keeping your nose up and afloat. It’s scary, new and exciting. Requires a little bit of practice, some intended nibbles, some timid lingering.

You’re both unsure, trying until you’re not anymore. Like a button blooming into a rose, suddenly turned bright bloody red, intense and passionate, with fierce thorns digging and scratching at the skin.

You sigh into him, he’s humming as in agreement. There’s a little agitation coming from outside. As if they know what you two are doing, how you’re feeling. As if impatient Tina can tell you’re stealing her human right under her snoot.

He is so willing to get stolen though. Chasing after your mouth when you worry for a second about the ruckus going on just behind the wall, arm tightening around you, hugging you as close as he can, his body melting with yours whenever your fingers dig in his skin.

You’re the first one to slip your fingers underclothes to just have a little sample of naked skin. It’s just past the hem of his sweatshirt, the soft and burning skin of his waist. It spurs him on. As if he was just waiting for you to give him permission, his hands find a home under your shirt. Flat on your skin, so large, so hearty, raw skin from someone who’s worked with those hands a lot, feeling so nice on you, feel like he’s holding you captive in between the palms.

The hand against your back slides up, stopping an instant where your bra is sealed, toying with it as if he’s wondering if he can. Deeming that he can’t, for some unknown reason, he goes further to grip the back of your neck. You’re too busy with his tongue teasing yours, with the growing stiffness digging in your stomach to notice. Have your brain been less occupied, you would probably have the fingers playing with the ends of his hair, pulling a little harsher than they already are. He’s loving it, it seems. Moaning each time you do, groaning each time your nails slip through the hair to scrap at his skin.

Everything is too good. Everything feels made to be, bodies made to meet and make up. It feels like this could be enough. Highly satisfying, more delicious than any make-out session has ever felt because none of those boys before were Jeon Jungkook and never have you liked someone as much as you like him.

But Jeon Jungkook can’t be perfect. You don’t know if he means to be to tease or if it’s just him holding onto some doubts, some insecurities, not wanting to go too far without you explicitly telling him that it’s what you want -because, clearly, it’s not evident enough, the way you’re hanging off of his mouth, limp in his arms, subjectively grinding against his cock can’t be telling enough.

His second hand, the one closest to all the places you want him to invade, won’t give in. Set on your stomach, his thumb retracing the underline of your bra, this hand is the very incarnation of a tormentor. You don’t last long, grousing in your mind, losing your shit and your patience, giving him chances after chances to finally get to it but of course he never does.

Your frustration reaches its limits when you back away from him, hitting his chest with your fist, breathless and frowning.

He’s too dazed, hooded eyes barely seeing anything but your swollen mouth, to comprehend. Until you bark his name, punching him again.

Jungkook takes in your mad eyes, scrunched eyebrows and impatient tapping of your foot on the cabin's floor.

“Touch me.” You whine more than you demand. His light chuckles fill the suffocating air, diffusing a little bit of the tension and maybe it’s not for the worst.

“Is that all?” He asks, leaning in to place a soft kiss on your pouty mouth. “You scared me.”

“I don’t care.” He is so gentle on your lips. The sweetest touch you’ve ever received there. Your heart is growing exponentially, threatens to burst in your chest and you’re loving every single second of it.

“You’re a bit mean when you’re frustrated, you know that?” He can hardly contain his amused grin long enough to kiss you. Explicitly telling you, he doesn’t care much for your moody outbursts. “And,” Another kiss right in the centre of your awaiting lips. “I was touching you.”

“Not enough.”

“What’s enough, lil’ brat?” He mumbles against the skin of your neck, biting a little at it, definitely grinning to himself there. You almost cum there.

“Touch me here.”

You can sense his cockiness drops to the ground when you grab his hands and press them to your clothed breasts. He just gapes, too shocked to act, as if it’s the first pair he’s coming in contact with. You have to do everything on his behalf and really, thankfully for him, you like him that much you don’t hold it against him. Tearing the cups of your bra down and under your breasts, guiding his long fingers to your tender mounds, he takes in a shaky breath, his curious eyes borne into yours.

Tentatively, he wraps his hands around them, weighing them, the pad of his thumb caressing the skin, enjoying taking extra time on the nipple. You can tell he wants it, he’s too willing to touch you, yet his mouth, the stupid thing, starts to stutter, “B-but, I don’t think righ-“

“Please.” And if this isn’t enough, you’re giving up. You’ve tried so hard. Asking, moving his hands for him, pleading with your boobs out and your shirt bunched up over them. If this isn’t enough, you’re giving up and probably kicking him in the dick in your way out.

His puppy eyes fall from your eyes down to your breast, almost reluctantly. He leaves out a tiny whimper of pain. As if he’s the one hurting. As if it’s not you, the one suffering, the one tortured, because he’s been messing with you, shaking your insides upside down, baiting and lightening up sparkles but refusing to feed you accordingly the way you need to. As if he’s not the only one inflicting himself the torment, refusing to give in for reasons you don’t understand.

Until something clicks in his brain, finally, common sense meeting desires, his mouth fall from your neck and straight to your nipple, kissing hungrily. Licking and sucking and nibbling, moaning almost as much as you do. Once both your nipples are swollen and a pretty flush, he senses your sensitivity, deciding to drop from the buds, meaning to cover the whole supple surface of your tits with lovely kisses and infuriating grazing of the teeth.

The position is awkward. Him bent in half, you on your tiptoes, trying to ease the access for him while simultaneously ordering your wobbly legs to keep on supporting you. The task is not easy, so poorly executed he gets tired of it in seconds, big hands seizing you to pick you up, holding you close, your legs wrap around his waist, so comfortable, so natural, somehow more convenient for him, he doesn’t seem to be in the least amount of effort as he feasts gladly on your chest. His hands stay on your ass, fingers digging, occasionally dragging you up and down his front where you can feel him hot and hard against your centre, a few times squeezing and tearing your cheeks apart. If this is not what paradise tastes like, then you don’t know what is.

It’s perfect pleasure, pure satisfaction.

But of course, you’re human.

Soon, it’s not enough, anymore. And more and more you want and you need. You can feel your cunt clench around nothing, drops of honey dripping from the side hems of your panties crotch. He’s so good to you, lavishing and ravishing your breast like it’s the only job he’s ever wanted but you want more. Maybe you’ll let him worship you another day. Place the kisses and paint the marks he wants on every inch of your body.

Right now you need release. Any kind. He’s pent you up to a point, you can’t handle the idea of not letting any steam out.

You’re about to get bitchy again. Getting saltier and saltier at every empty-handed clench of your cunt. If you don’t take a step now, make him take the step, you’ll turn into a sex-deprived gremlin again, this time worse than earlier, and it’s not a good look you wish for him to see -again.

“Jungkook?” You can sense him perk up at the call of your name, even though he doesn’t stop his ministrations. He hums against your nipple, held tight in between his wet lips. “Fuck, Guk- just- uh- your bed.” No reaction. You suspect he didn’t even listen. “Take me to your bed, Jungkook!” It’s the harsh pull on his hair that’s made him look up and pay attention to your words. Like an obedient puppy with unmatching dark eyes, he nods, swirling around to head for his bed, carrying you effortlessly like you're not a full-grown adult hanging from his neck.

You’re about to meet his sheets. You’re about to get ravished and treated so, so right. You can tell from all the promises his hooded gaze has no shame sharing. Anticipation is killing you. The tenderness and affection along with the evident intense lust you read in him are killing you. Your back is just about to meet his sheets when it just doesn’t. He’s holding you centimètres away from it, eyebrows frowned, preoccupation taking over his face and covering everything sexy that fitted it so prettily.

“I can’t have you on this bed.”

“Wha- why?!” Maybe you yelled a bit. He winces. You don’t know what you look like right now, lust turned into pure fury, you just hope if you feel and talk like a gremlin, you still don’t look like one.

“Have you seen it? It’s not even a bed, it’s just a pile of dirty rags probably a thousand years old-“ It’s sweet and annoying, infuriating beyond belief. He’s blushing too. One foot hitting with spite the pile of rags he was given to use as a bed.

You want to cry.

“Why are you so fucking difficult, Jungkook?” You spit his name with venom, forehead hitting his shoulder, defeated as you feel. He’s hugging you closer, hands less sexual and just warm tenderness as they slide along your spine, pressing you closer if it’s even possible. Feels nice. But your panties, the soaked ruined cloth that is uncomfortably sticking to your cunt are reminding you you’re hating this moment.

“I don’t mean to. I- you deserve better than-“

“But you sleep on it!”

“I can sleep anywhere, it doesn’t matter but you’re too pretty to be laying on this.” You huff at that. Too frustrated to just take the compliment and let it shake your belly with the butterflies in it like a kid would a Christmas snow globe. “I’m sorry.”

“Should apologise to yourself, why you’re sleeping in it if it’s shit? Don’t you deserve better?”

He can tell how you feel. You’re kind enough to let everything clear as day, written in a language he mastered in so little time, an intimate one he’s only allowed to see. He sees the disappointment. Also the ease you’re feeling. The lust that’s not left. The despair and frustration tinted by dark shades of anger. You look cute as hell. All pouty and mushy in his arms. Whining and complaining and so angry yet fingers gently caressing the nape of his neck. He can tell you’re bitchy, feel like arguing but probably want something else even more.

“Wouldn’t it be better to use your bed instead? I saw it yesterday, looks nice.” He suggests, kissing your jaw to relax you.

“It is, it’s a troll size.” You lean your head back, giving more space for his mouth, mumbled words hardly falling from your pout.

“I saw that.” He says, amusement teasing the corner of his eyes.

“Professor Jeon!” The amusement completely annihilates from his eyes, his pretty rosy lips falling in a shocked o, along with all colours leaving his face. You gasp silently, wide eyes matching his.

There’s a terrifying succession of thuds shaking the little cabin, the call of his name again. Slowly, he releases you from his arms, making sure you meet the ground without emitting the least noise.

“I told you I had a class-“ he mimes with his mouth rather than speak.

“You never told me that?”

“I mean- I tried to but you wouldn’t- you wouldn’t list-“

“Professor Jeon?” More knocking on the door. You both hear the man outside mumbling to himself, a little commotion and you can tell, he’s trying to find a way to reach the window to have a look through it. Jungkook jumps on it, tearing the curtain in front of the blurry glass.

“Yes- uhm-“

“Are you okay? The class is ready for today’s demonstration! We’re all excited about that Opaleye you’ve talked ab-“

“Hagrid, I- I need to- finish get ready so- if you and the class could wait- f-five seconds?”

You are fuming. Glaring at him with the meanest eyes you own. Smoke probably coming out of every orifice, desperately trying to leave out some steam or else you’ll be spitting fire better than his fucking pets do. Tucking your boobs back in your bra, tearing your teeshirt back down, probably looking as miserable as you feel.

He’s apologetic though. One hand holding yours between gentle fingers, massaging kindly the palm of your hand. Looking guilty as hell, pouty with the watery eyes, a sweetheart.

And you like him. The realisation hits you once again, full force, you like him a whole lot. Frustration fading into compliance, leaving you helpless, about to forgive him wholeheartedly and suggest to come back later when his schedule sees it more fitting.

“Alrighty! I’ll show them that cute baby dragon I see over there-“

Jungkook winces visibly. Even you can tell it’s not a good idea to leave Hagrid alone with kids and dragons unsupervised, his reputation precedes him, unfortunately. He doesn’t hint a gesture towards the door though. Observing you with attentive eyes, the same from earlier, as if he’s trying to memorise your traits with utter accuracy, knowing he won’t be seeing it for at least the whole day ahead. You should suggest he takes a picture, it’ll last longer. But you’re overwhelmed with a vague wave of sadness, suddenly, so close to the parting from him and so unready for it.

You don’t know if he sees it, senses it, if when he kisses you hard on the mouth it’s to make himself feel better or if it’s just for you. It works in any case. Your heart filled up as it’d been, with lust and affection and something that can’t be but is so akin to love.

“I wish you didn’t have a class-“

“Do you want me?” He asks in a breathless whisper. The question is ridiculous, the answer being so fucking evident, you’d hit him to the side of the head if you didn’t like so much how intimate, how sexy he sounds murmuring against your lips.

You nod. Realising as you try and fail that he’s stolen all air from you -and probably a few other things like your heart and sanity along the way.

“Can you be quiet?” His hands have already dropped from your face, attached to the hem of your pants, hurried fingers proceeding to open them up. The situation in its entirety with the environment, with the people outside at most a dozens of meters away, the awkwardness, the everything can’t hit you, can’t take a sensible shape. No information able to be treated because of him, his everything, the whole lot that he is, infuriating, dizzying, shattering, moving. All you know is that you can be quiet, you can be whatever he wants you to be right this instant.

“I’m sorry for being so terrible at all that-“ He starts, sincere but light, amused, comfortable with you -and that’s the nicest look you’ve seen on him. “I’ll make it up to you until later when I- can really make it up to you.”

It’s funny to see the two facades of his personality clash like that. He’s apologising, red in the cheeks, but also a mouth, reshaped by a confident fatal crooked smirk, stating promises as facts.

How does he know he’ll make it up to you? How does he know he’ll make you feel good enough you’ll forgive his clumsiness?

“I’ll need more than five seconds, Jeon.” That makes him chuckle silently, shaking his head and squinting in defiance.

“You’ll need hardly more than that.” He says, dragging your pants and your panties at once, down a few centimetres.

Heat burns your face as air hits your centre. It feels shockingly exposing even if he can't see much from up there, with your shirt down, with little to no light coming from the curtained window and his large hand, that doesn’t wait for a second, slipping in between your thighs, covering your mound instantly as his mouth covers yours.

He’s right. This fucker.

You don’t time but you know he makes you come incredibly fast.

First starting by sliding a lone finger in your heat to quickly realise that you are soaking wet, sloppy to be exact, perfectly able to fit at least two and probably a third one easily. And he obliges so, filling the torturous void, fucking you with them slowly, dragging the pad of his rough fingers along your walls, teasing your sensitive entrance with lovely, lovely strokes. The sound -and he has to slow down to keep it quiet enough- is obscene. You don’t remember the last time you’ve been so fucking turned on. Dripping down your legs and unto his hand.

He spends only a few minutes on that, on fucking you nice and open when you both know he won’t even be able to fill you as you both wish he would until, well, some undefined time. It should be revolting, that thought, sort of a quick, immediate satisfaction for a long term painful wait.

But then his fingers leave your hole to migrate to your clit, as engorged as ever, as it’s not been for a long, long time, all of this for this stupid crush, from this stupid man, from his kisses and his scent, and his purposefully neglecting to give it attention. A few strokes only, fast and hard, messy and desperate with a sweet pet name he’s never used but fits so nice from his lips press to your ear and you’re coming, hole kissing emptiness, it sucks but you're invaded with so much content, legs shaking, heart beating fast, remnants of the orgasm reshaping the whole stance of your body, feels like you've just moved in an entirely new one, and head dizzy, feeling in love.

“Told you.” He’s chuckling to himself. Full of himself as he wipes you clean with a teeshirt he just picked up from an open travelling bag.

“Shut up, Jungkook.” You groan. One hand holding onto his bicep while his owns diligently tie back your pants, fixing you like nothing happened. The orgasm has been so good, it devoided you of all strength and energy you may have had.

You need to leave. Or more precisely, he needs to leave and meet the class, take them away probably in the forest so that you can escape and flee back to the castle. It’s inevitable.

You close your eyes for a second. Trying to empty your head, focus on breathing properly again, hiding how upset you feel. It’s not that dramatic. Surely, you’ll catch him again, today probably, later, tonight, but you feel so upset. Like a little girl. You don’t want to leave him yet.

Jungkook calls your name softly. You open your eyes, biting on your lip to contain all the emotions wanting to spill out right under his nose.

“Do you like me?” This time you have to throw a punch to his side -it hurts your knuckles more than it does him- because how dare he ask and look so unsure of the answer. “Well, I don’t know- I don’t- you never know with women and- and like- I- you never said-“

“I’ve liked you for two years, Jeon Jungkook.”

“Two...?”

You see the gears rolling, slowly, unsettled by big knots of confusion. You’re sweet, you’re generous and you just came in his hand, literally, so you have no issue admitting -with only a slight blush on the apple of your cheeks, “When you first came for the Triwizard Tournament.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t-“ Again with the apologies. With the looking so pitiful, with the guilt, with the him being so lovely of a man, especially when he’s so big and covered in all those warlike scars.

“Well you had this in your eyes anyway, would have been hard to notice me.” You joke, stealing one of the locks hiding behind his ear and tickling his eyelids with it. He scoffs, smiling before he slips it back where it was.

“Thanks to Taehyung, I have a hair tie now. So that I can see you better.” He’s beaming, staring at you fondly, it’s insufferable and you look away, embarrassed as ever because those big eyes being just yours, admiring you -for what too?- are hard to handle. You need practice.

“Is it your dragons teaching you all this cheesy garbage-“ He cackles at that, not even letting you finish and you’re loving the idea that it’s you causing that. “You need better wingpets.” He laughs even harder, you’re grinning even harder until a screech, ear-splitting, resonates through the whole surrounding forest. For a second you wonder if it’s not just Tina throwing a fit because she heard how her master is having so much fun with someone else than her but there’s a commotion following and what sounds like a seventeen-year-old Slytherin boy losing his shit, yelling and crying, and alarm takes over Jungkook's face.

“Can I see you tonight?” He asks in a hurry and you nod. “I’ll meet you in your room after I trained-“ A big smooch to your lips. “Actually maybe before, I don’t know, I-“

“Just go, Jungkook.” His eyes say something his mouth can’t, you can read the trepidation, as he sprints to the door, gaze not leaving you.

You can’t be sure a hundred per cent but you’re almost certain he just told you that he really likes you too and suddenly, you don’t feel as upset as you did, knowing you will find him back later.

« Thanks for earlier. »

For a second, you don’t know what he’s referring to. Until he points a finger towards his crotch, a little flush showing on his cheeks, where his hair doesn’t reach.

That makes you laugh. You shrug your shoulders, waving his thank away because of course, you wouldn’t let him run in the middle of a class full of teenagers with a rock hard cock showing through his pants.

Too focused on the possible catastrophe happening in his front yard, he didn’t seem to realise, if any discomfort or pain ever existed he couldn’t acknowledge it but you surely did.

After having it pressed to your crotch, having felt its hardness and its heat, there’s no way you’d be able to just stop thinking about it. Then in the cabin, with your tingling cunt and sticky panties, and the whole day ahead, no matter how far away from him you were, physically and supposedly mentally, it’s just all you could think about.

Blushing incessantly at the least stimulating moments. Gagging back giggles whenever a word, a touch, a smile of his recalled itself to you, and this in front of confused and suspicious eyes.

The whole day was a pain. It simply wouldn’t roll fast enough.

Now here you are, standing in front of him, not recognising him fully. He’s hiding behind his hair again. He’s quiet and awkward like he too forgot how to talk to you.

Maybe that’s what you get for meddling with him so quickly. Suppose you get separated for a short dozen of hours, he becomes a stranger again.

It’s an awful feeling. Seems like maybe you made it all up. The comfort, the noncommittal love and adoration, the ease, the lust, the warmth. Maybe all of it was just a hazy dream. Made up yesterday evening by alcohol and this early morning by fatigue.

Here you are sober and empty of any other commitment and you can’t picture how you could have gotten to that special place and how to find it back if it ever existed.

“You’ve let your hair down.” You simply say. Maybe it’s your way to point out aloud how you feel like you’ve been thrown a thousand steps back. He’s hiding behind his hair, being unreachable again.

“Yeah, I just- they were all staring so I felt awkward-“ You mean to interrupt, let him know because you’re sure that he doesn’t (the boy from the bar yesterday didn’t know) that if they were staring it’s because he is that beautiful and certainly no one has expected that. “I wanted to tie it back for now but I lost the little thingy.” You take a step forward, closing some of the distance between him standing against the wall and you in the middle of your room. The more you hear his soft voice, the more you recognise him. “I hope Taehyung won’t be mad, I can buy a new one for him.” You could probably point out that Jungkook probably did not lose anything. That probably Taehyung used a charm and like any of those, the object you didn’t pay for, that materialised itself from thin air, simply disappeared after some time. Maybe you’ll tell him later. Right now you’re close to him again, so close you can catch a glimpse of an eye under the pretty locks. Your ears recognise him, your nose too, and you’re impatient to see if your fingers would too.

You reach up, catching his fringe in between your fingertips and dragging them behind his ears, opening the silky curtain and smiling to yourself, eyes almost blurry with emotion, when you see his handsome face now on display. With the pretty brown eyes, the rosy lips, the cut eyebrow and that scar on his cheek, just above his timid dimple that shows up only when it wants.

“Hi.”

“Hello.” He squeaks out, flushing. “I must look ridiculous-“ He gestures you his hair your holding hostage behind his ears, taking advantage to caress his soft skin with the pad of your thumbs.

“You look cute.” He does. He looks a bit awkward, like a boy who just finds himself with too much hair and tries to do something about it. “Very cute.” You add, beaming when you see his embarrassment grow.

“Liar.”

He catches one of your wrists in his hand, bringing it to his lips to kiss the thin skin of the inner part. Lips soft, eyes soft, voice tender. “I thought about you a lot today...” Somehow he found you back too. He feels comfortable saying this while you’re sure he’s not used to it. Therefore even if you hate it, you can’t help but admit it. That you too, obviously, could only think about him the whole day. “I’m not here to stay forever, ___.”

Your airy smile flatters until it disappears completely.

Way to ruin the mood.

He senses it. Press the hand leaving his face back against his cheek, pressing the second one to his mouth again as if he could bring you back to him and forget all about what he just implied.

Obviously.

Obviously, his life is not here, in Hogwarts. He’s not a professor, he doesn’t want to become one, he’s here for a project that has a defined limited time - Mrs Umbridge made sure of it. He’s an adventurer anyway. He only knows forest and lands and mountains and mythical creatures, extreme weathers and dangerous places.

Obviously, you two only properly met a few days ago, only started to get to know each other less than 24 hours ago, it’s too soon to be in love, too soon to be so attached that a separation would feel that devastating. But even if you’re not, you feel in love. You feel wonderful in his arms, under his gaze, with his pretty smiles lighting on you and his sweet voice rocking your heart.

It’s so upsetting to think about. You don’t want to. Just him hardly bringing it up makes you so upset you could cry.

“But I- I know that you know that already. Maybe it’s clear for you that- we can’t-“ The more he talks the less sense he makes. Every syllabus seems dragged out of his mouth. He struggles so bad, your hand distractingly playing with the neck of his shirt, only because his hand wouldn’t let it go, you can feel his beating heart through the thick vein of his neck. “What I mean to say is- I don’t know what this- could mean to you. If it means anything or it’s just- like- fun,” Your eyebrow ticks at that. How dare he? “either way I don’t mind-“ He’s quick to add. “Really! Whatever you want is fine. I just mean to say that we can’t- I mean- at some point, I’ll be very very far away so-“

“Does it matter now, Jungkook?”

The whole dilemma is not that hard to solve, on your part anyway. There’s nothing you can do about his future departing, is it? All that’s under your control is either you decide to indulge in him, have him the way you crave to, feed in this lovely thing that’s started blooming yesterday evening between you two and later on, deal with the heartbreak you’ll surely have once he leaves. Or will you deny yourself this, still get the heartbreak but way earlier on and have to nurture it for probably less long but in this peculiar case, through a thick coat of regrets.

You hate to think about it all. You hate to think about a time when he’s not going to be around, not even only appearing at the end of a hallway, not even noticing you, not doing anything special except existing and breathing the same air as yours.

It’s clear for you. He’s right here, right now, literally right under your hands, there’s no doubt in your mind that you’re going to consume as much as him as you possibly can, if only he’ll let you.

He looks worried, concerned. Not on the same page as you maybe. Guilty too. While it’s not his fault. It’s your own stupid, unpractical dumbass’s fault for falling for the only guy that lives like a fucking wild animal and is probably inept to leave his wild savage life for more than a couple of months at a time.

An attempt nibble to his bottom lip. Your eyes shut close slowly as to not squeeze a droplet menacing to fall from your eye. He sighs deeply, leaning into your mouth for a moment.

“I guess it doesn’t have to matter now.” He decides, pressing a new kiss to the relieved smile growing on you.

"Cause you had a few things to show me, I believe..." It's subtle. Sort of. The words may be but the eyes you give him are not, demanding, minxy. Your intentions are no secret to him and you can tell in the way he smirks, kissing you again, this time his warm palms holding your cheeks still. He's made up his mind too.

It's all you needed to wash it all behind. Everything that could be too heavy for your shoulders or your heart to carry right now. Anything that could affect this moment, tarnish it, make it lesser than it could be.

It just has to be good. Only good and nothing else. His hands everywhere, on your ass, squeezing, on your breast, fondling. He seems to have remembered what you like. He's not withholding, he's not overly gentle. He's still awfully tender, awfully sweet because it's just the essence of his person, you feel it in every breath you steal from him. The way he carries you so softly, sitting you down on his lap as careful as ever as to not have you tip over and fall off of the bed.

When you're so greedy and almost rude in comparison, lavishing in the position he just offered you, groaning when you feel his thick thighs stretching yours wide, grinding already, sliding forward to feel his hardness anew against you. You touch him everywhere because his body feels surreal. Hard and taut and skin boiling even through his clothes. Your hands disorganized, impatient, start by unbuckling his belt to then jump to the hem of his shirt, dragging the cloth up and off of him.

You hardly catch a glimpse of fair honey skin before the light is shut off suddenly. There's the very recognizable thud of a wand hitting the wooden floor that hints at you that he's the one who did turn it off and you want to whine and complain and maybe even argue a little, and maybe more, enough for him to turn it back on but his wet mouth is sucking at your collarbone, the indignant scold dies into an insignificant, trembling whimper.

He lets you undress him. Even if you're missing the visual, you decide you'll enjoy the touch. His skin is so soft, too soft in a few spots where you guess he's been hurt, uneven, little bumpy traits, here and there, like the trace of a road on a map, scattered all over his chest, his shoulders, his arms. He feels wonderful under your fingers. Hot and soft. He smells heavenly, encaging you as he does, you're bathing in his scent, earthy, smoky, masculine.

You have the push him away, a hand on his jaw, another on his chest to have him quit mouthing at your skin and lay his back down on the mattress. In the very dim light, you catch his shiny eyes, wide and intense as they observe you in the dark. You lean over, pressing kisses you hope as loving as his on his skin, starting from his cheek, you feel moving under your lips from him smiling, descending to his hard belly without missing a spot.

Your mouth turns extra delicate when your lips meet uneven skin, as if you could hurt him, as if he hasn't been long healed and your lips aren't the last thing that could ever hurt him, it makes him gasps and sighs though, each time, you feel his abs tighten under you, his thighs stiffen.

"Am I hurting you?" You ask quietly, even if you doubt it.

"Yeah-" He sighs and you freeze. "I mean no! No, no, don't worry."

"Are you sure?" You insist and he groans in defeat. You might be palming his cock through his pants, which you should be patient enough to wait until he answers properly if you'd honestly like an answer. But the rock hard member has been poking your thigh for too long and you can't help it. He's so responsive too, concealing poorly his groans and his moans, his whole body and cock twitchy under you.

You're close to giving him more. To give him fully what he came for. Nails grazing with intent the line where the hem of his underwears lay but not moving down further, hinting at something more but not giving in yet.

It's exhilarating to have him so docile under you, waiting, hardly patiently, for you to give him what he wants and you can tell, from how hard he is, that he really does want it. He sucks his breath in one more time, loudly, and you snickers above him, excited as you are.

Until he decides it's enough. Raising one thigh fast and hard, pushing at your ass, making you tip over with a squeal. He catches you with the cheeky chuckle you've grown to adore, rolling you unto your back so he can hover over you. You feel so tiny under him, with his strong thick arms encasing you, the line of his wide shoulders barely decipherable in the dark. Your hand follows the line, appreciating him to be so willing to be touched, always leaning onto your fingers. When it stops at his chest, your fingers mean to play a little but you're stopped in your track by the thudding hitting your palm. It takes you a hot second to realise it's his heart, being so loud and agitated, so expressive from where it's hidden. Of course, someone as reserved as him would have a heart that vocal.

"Your heart's beating so hard." You comment quietly. You don't mean to embarrass him. You don't even mean to reverse the power button hanging between the both of you. Yours in your own chest has to be causing a similar ruckus. But it's his that matters right now. You can't get over the fact that it's for you.

"Stop teasing me." He grumbles. He's not even vexed. He's embarrassed, but you hear the slim smile in his voice, a sheepish one.

"I'm not. You should feel mine." He hums against your mouth, then backs away laughing a bit.

"Smooth."

"It wasn't-" You sigh in defeat. It was not a subtle attempt to have him take care of your tits. Seriously. He's too glad to comply though, you're not one to complain.

You only have a vague notion of time passing, of things progressing. Somehow a second he's suckling on your nipples through the thin material of your top and the next, both of you are naked, panting in each other's face. Your nipples erect and still wet, occasionally rubbing against his chest, two of his thick fingers pumping in between your folds, a third one occasionally teasing the entrance, hinting at a stretch you're so greedy to feel even though you're not sure you can take; your hands wrapped around his shaft, pumping furiously, squeezing hard to have him hiss and curse against your lips, with your thumb teasing the slit of the tender slick head.

His free hand is at your neck, resting there, fingertips pressing in your skin, his thumb toying with your swollen bottom lip whenever he's biting too hard on his own to kiss you properly.

"I'm close..." You whimper, nibbling on the flesh of his thumb. He smiles vaguely at you, hooded eyes unfocused, eyebrows scrunched from pleasure. "I want you, Jungkook."

"Like now?" Fuck. You really have to like the guy a lot. He dares stop fucking you too, all attention now driven to your face. You don't say anything, your eyes telling enough. He nods to himself. "Okay, now. But uh-"

"Jungkook, sometimes you're half-useless." You try not to be mean but you can't help some snarkiness to escape. You have patience. You have a lot of it. But he just makes everything so difficult. How can you be sin and temptation embodied and at the same time, be so fucking clueless? He's like the cure but also the disease.

You roll over on your bed, grabbing a condom from your bedside table that a certain friend I don't need to name provided you with, to then face him again, brandishing the foil packet in his face.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to-" He seems confused for a second, struggling to get the thing open and you wonder if it's been as long as it's been for you since the last time he's been with someone like that, or if it's been even longer. "but-" Growing even more impatient, you jump on your knees, kneeling next to him, taking the thing from him and tearing it open for him. "You're, like, a lot."

You stay silent for probably too long, frozen, hit by his words probably too intensely.

"In a good way! In a- in a, you're- I like you a lot and it makes me all-" He's talking too much you decide. Stuttering the sweetest things you have a hard time hearing while you're both naked in your bed, so near to get even closer, even more intimate to each other in a way you're too excited about to handle any extra pandering -especially given, you know exactly what he meant. Who would have thought? Jeon Jungkook talking so much you'd have to kiss him quiet.

"How do you like it?" He asks in a whisper, kissing your jaw in a way that makes you shudder. He's making you lightheaded, so dizzy, with the stupid jumps between his sexy lust-filled self and the adorable clueless dude he can also be.

"Just- however you'll have me." You answer, ignoring blatantly that it doesn't mean much.

So he decides. Laying you down on your back, hovering you. The thought that maybe you are made for each other hits you full face then, because that's exactly how you'd like him to have you. Just like earlier, so close, so intimate, sort of intimidating, dominating too. All yours and you, even more, his, with his soft locks caressing your forehead, lips so close you hardly have to make any effort to reach, not that he lets you have your mouth for your own for too long anyway, every few seconds, claiming it with lingering kisses tasting of greed. You know you're in trouble as soon as the very tip of his cock squeezes in. It's somehow a tight fit, even with his earlier ministrations, even with the ones from this morning that made you feel loose all fucking day. Jungkook only fucks you with the head of his shaft for a while, feeling you so tight around him, savouring the sensation but also worried he'd hurt you if he were to go further.

You're on edge. On edge of a devastating orgasm, already too fucking close, and even if you could blame it on the foreplay, on your hormones or whatever else, he'd know. He'd know it's because of him, because of how much you like him, of how good he makes you feel, how much he turns you on.

You don't really care. He's already panting in your ear, groaning and moaning with tight jaws about how good you feel and how pretty you are, when he's only half of the way inside and that's more than enough. It's kind of too much. Kind of impossible to handle.

It's a mewl to the shell of his ear and the digging of your nails in his firm ass that push him further and balls deep inside you. It feels like discovering new places within yourself, places you haven't reach before alone or with someone else, brings a rush of excitement to your whole body that translates in a vice tight clench around him.

He fucks you so good, it feels so nice, his cock was made for you. His rhythm steady, rather slow but powerful, sending you a tiny bit higher on the bed at each thrust, with one arm slid behind your back, his hand wrapped around the back of your neck to hold you still enough. It's little to no effect but it drives you crazy, having him own you like that. From all those places, his dick, his thigh pressing yours higher, his hands, his mouth, his words. Bewitching, he is. Everything feels and sounds and touches him, the air you breath tastes like him.

You wish it'd last forever but it can't. Like everything that tastes that wondrous.

"Jungkook, I think- uh- gonna come." You lie because you don't think, you know you're about to come even if it's been a couple of minutes since he's started. Conveniently, the moon chooses this very moment to come out of wherever she was hiding, shining right through the only window of your suite and hitting him right in the face to bring clear light to him and to his grin, the smug grin you've only caught glimpses of. Your nails dig deeper in his flesh, he gasps lightly and bites on his lip but the smirk doesn't leave, even though it looks ridiculous with his heavy droopy gaze, his red cheeks and his heaving. He's as affected as you are. And that's that precise revelation that throws you over the edge. You mewl aloud, turned euphoric with how incredible it feels to have him keep fucking you through your orgasm, with his cock dragging along your tight, sensitive entrance with his movements.

Soon he follows. You don't exactly catch the moment, too lost in your own euphoria to decipher when his begins, but you feel the change in his thrusts, sloppy and harsher, skin slapping louder in the quiet room and once you've both bathed fully in the pleasure, came back to the now calmer, quieter Earth, you realise your ear rings with the ghost of a raw, low scream that certainly was his.

Fuck, you need to hear this again but this time with your full, undivided attention.

But another time.

Right now, you're half dead. Your hearts have just started coming down from their high. With him laying almost entirely on you. The most of his weight he safely pressed to your side but he's clinging to you, the round tip of his nose buried in your neck, hands holding you tight against him and legs intertwined with yours. Your hand has found its way to his hair, the ungodly mess, fingers gently massaging his scalp, rolling the curls in between.

"So warm..." He hums against your skin, almost purrs. You smile lazily. "Never wanna leave."

"You don't have to." It's the exhaustion that renders your filter ineffective. You know you shouldn't have said that. You know even more so when he doesn't say anything back. "For now, I mean." You don't even know how much of this is a lie. If you really were only thinking about this moment, this night or if the future you both know too well, ugly but very real just waiting its moment to play out, was also on your mind. You're too tired and concretely, fucked out, to even think properly.

"I still have four months." It's a poor consolation. You don't mean to spoil it all. After having spent such a precious, wondrous time with him, you don't want to fuck it all up but you can't help your heart from squeezing painfully in your chest, your throat from struggling to swallow down the heavy ball that's lodged up there. Jungkook senses it. You know he does by the way he holds you tighter, pressing one of those kisses, the most tender ones, at the corner of your lips. "We'll figure something out." He says with an assertion you didn't expect and don't know the origins of. Yet, you trust him and the lump in your throat decides to leave for now.

Somehow, persuaded that you and your heart are safe with him.

A/N: i can’t believe i finished this fucking monster. i need sleep. i’m sorry if it’s not super well edited, i did the 33 pages in one go and yeah. also it’s been so long since i wrote actual explicit smut, i have no idea how it turned out. 😳 let me know :)

to anyone who’s made it this far, thank you so, so, so much. you have my infinite gratefulness and i sincerely hope you enjoyed it.

i’m off to sleep, i hope you are having a wonderful day. stay safe, lots of lots of love 💜

#ksmutclub #networkbangtan #btswriterscollective #ggukienet #bts fluff #bts smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook scenario #jungkook fanfic #bts scenario #bts fanfic #my writing #when posting will stop being so scary lmao

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oceansmelodysblog · 4 years ago

Text

A Warm Breath from the Mountains

chapter 2

A Breath of the Wild fanfiction

Authors: @quepasta & @freshbreezesworld

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When I woke up the next morning, I found myself in one of the comfortable Rito beds in their inns. Zelda was sleeping peacefully beside me, her face turned towards me. There was something magical about seeing her in her warming nightclothes, sleeping beside me, surrounded by majestic mountains and a pleasant cold. I took advantage of the situation to watch her sleep undisturbed and gently stroked the strands of hair from her face. My arm felt numb under her head, but it was worth it to me to have her so close. Hopefully she would never know how I felt about her, because the closer we got, the more complicated it would get with her desire to rebuild Hyrule. It was getting to be time to wake Zelda up, so a prank came to mind.

Carefully, I pulled my arm away and sat up. I had to massage and shake my arm to get the blood flowing, but I didn't mind. As long as it didn't kill me, the sarcastic thought occurred to me.

I jumped out the window and landed noiselessly on the grassy ground that surrounded the guest cottage and grabbed a stalk, climbed back in over the same window and sat down cross-legged in front of Zelda's face. One last time I examined her contented sleeping face, which she always had when I slept next to her. Then I took the stalk and tickled her nose and ears. Hectically she tore her eyes open and patted her body and face with her hands in panic. I let out a laugh and almost toppled off the bed to see her like that. She noticed my reaction and stopped abruptly and just looked at me questioningly "Link, what have you done now!"

Again I snorted, this time it was her confused look. I tried to gasp for breath and at the same time explain to her what I had done, which proved to be a challenge for me. "Link!"

„Don’t worry Zelda! I only tried to wake you up. “

„apparently you did. Great job. And never do this again, whatever it was.“ Now she was annoyed and I nearly lost it again but I needed to focus.

„Anyways. Today starts your first lesson on how to cook. We have to gather some ingredients from the Hebra mountains, so let’s get started, because the day will pass before we even reached the stables.“

As I said that, I jumped from the bed and took off my night wear to change into my Rito armor. I was so used to be alone all the time that I forgot to warn Zelda. Of course she started to squeal. „Link! What is wrong with you, why don’t you warn me before taking off your clothes!“ I smirked at her to provoke her even more. „You can see more if you want!“ I said and received a smash of a pillow in to my face. „You’re ridiculous! “ she was about to burst out by clenching her fists but I reached over the bed to her and held her wrists tight. „Zelda I am just kidding, don’t be mad at me. You can change your clothes in peace, I will wait for you at the gate to the village. “

As I walked away from the inn, on the way to the gate, many Rito villagers greeted me heartily. It seems they weren’t mad at me anymore, I guess Saki did tell them, I was a complete fool, to ease their minds. But then I bumped into the the Rito warriors and even they greeted me and apologized for their behavior. I will have to ask Saki about this later.

I talked to the guard about the surroundings and if he saw dangerous threats around this area and he said besides the already existing monsters in the mountains, the area around the stable and the village was safe for travels. When I thanked him for his advice I turned back to the stairs and my eyes caught a goddess standing in front of the goddess‘ statue. She wore a full white coloured Rito snow quill armour and looked astounding.

She had her long hair braided to a ponytail and her face was framed in gold through two thick strands of her hair. My heart fluttered at her forest green eyes shimmering like the surface of water in the incoming sunlight. Her shy smile adorned her pretty face, which was framed by strands of her golden hair.

Slowly I realized I was staring at her for too long and as a result she blushed. “Do you like my new outfit that much?” she asked curiously.

Slowly and elegantly, she stepped down the stairs while I couldn’t get out of my staring even when she stood right in front of me.

“Zelda... You... You look like a goddess.” I said without thinking twice. As I realized what I said, my eyes widened and became nervous. ‘How did I let this happen?’

“I-“ I was about to start to say, but Zelda interrupted me before I could finish the sentence.

“Link, please don’t be sorry. I appreciate your compliment… and I wish you would say what you think more often.” Zelda folded her hands in front of her chest and looked directly into my eyes. She had an intense glimpse sparkling in her mirrors of her soul while she smiled at me in a way that I couldn’t lay my eyes off. It gave me an intriguing feeling.

"Everything my princess desires," I finally replied.

Even though I had only addressed her by her title, it slowly dawned on me how ambiguous it sounded, and I couldn't help but smile. Zelda giggled adorable in response. I scratched the back of my head, which I always did when I messed up things.

"Let's get to the stables before it gets dark. We will need our horses in the deep snow to move faster. After that, we'll let them rest near our campfire so they won't freeze." I finally said leading her the way.

Zelda nodded in agreement and broke away from me. We then walked across the bridges in comfortable silence, admiring the majestic view, until we arrived at the stables.

"Link, why did you name your horse Altay? I've never heard that name before," Zelda asked as I picked up our horses.

I had captured and tamed a direct descendant of her favourite horse, before the battle against Ganon, and held the white proud mare by her reins so that Zelda could pet and caress her in peace.

My mount, however, compared to hers, was like the night itself. My stallion had black fur and a black mane that was cropped into a mohawk. His forehead had a white mark that ran to his mouth. His fetlocks were covered with longer fur - an indication that he could cope with any weather. Basically, my horse was the perfect mount for me; fearless, strong and not afraid of any obstacle.

"An old man I once met on my journey told me about a warlike people who were unbeatable on their horses. They called themselves the Altay Warriors, after a mountain of their ancestors and deities. I don't know what happened to these warriors, but I still found the story impressive. When I found my buddy, here beside me," I lovingly stroked my horse's mouth as I continued, "I knew he was just as tough as those warriors and gave him that name. He loves it when I call him by his name." I smiled and helped Zelda onto her horse, grabbing her hip and hoisting her onto the saddle with ease. I loved those tiny touches and the way she smiled happily as I did so.

"Thank you Link, a gentleman as always." She said and gave me the intriguing look again.

I winked at her and turned to my horse and mounted the saddle. We had both opted for the 'Travelling Saddle' as it offered more storage space.

“So, Link will you tell me now, where we’re heading? You didn’t tell me more than that we would camp in the Hebra mountains.” She asked as we rode our horses in a slow walk.

“You will see, when we’re there, Princess.”

“Link that’s not fair, I want you to tell me where we will go. I want to be prepared.”

“Prepared for what? You won’t need to do anything but study the flora around us.” I said as I spurred my horse on.

At a trot we rode past the felled trees as the cool wind blew through the long stalks of grass.

“Because I want to learn new things and be useful, after you injured your shoulder, you must have realised too that you can’t be always there for me. Let me at least learn how to hunt with a bow. And no – the bow of light is something else.”

The group of trees in front of us was often filled with Oktoroks, so I kept my eyes open, but we had been spared this time. I breathed a sigh of relief when we reached the huge rock face to our left.

“I will think about it, princess,” I said and immediately saw a glimpse of sadness in her eyes. She turned her head away and sighed frustrated.

‘As if I could ever refuse her wishes.’

We had barely reached the sand-coloured rock cliff when the illuminating blue light of a shrine in the near distance caught my eye and pointed in the direction. Zelda looked out for the point in the distance that I was pointing at and drew in her breath sharply. I looked to her and watched as her eyes began to sparkle like opal.

"Link, there's another shrine! And it's glowing blue too! Link! Link! Let's explore the shrine!"

"That's the Bareeda Naag shrine I entered a while ago. That's probably why it glows blue instead of orange, since I completed the trial inside."

Eyes dilated like those of an eagle, stared at me in shock.

As we trotted on, I kept an eye on the surrounding area, knowing that a camp of monsters was hiding behind the rock face.

"The shrines you wanted to explore 100 years ago turned out to be trials for the hero with the mastersword. They served to restore my original strength and endurance. Ancient, mummified monks waited for me in these shrines and gave me different tests. Which amazes me though, because these shrines were created 10 thousand years ago, with the sole purpose of helping me. How could the ancient Sheikah have known this? But if they knew about our miserable fate, why didn't they take action against it? So many questions ran through my mind as I travelled through Hyrule with no memory."

I stared at the pommel of his saddle as I moved my hip to the rhythm of Altay. Absentmindedly, I stroked through the spiky Mohawk mane.

I only realised I was lost in thought when Zelda placed a hand on my shoulder, snapping me out of my hazy memories of the devastation.

"Link, why don't you tell me what you saw in the shrine? What was that trial you had to pass?"

Grateful for the distraction, I gave her a smile.

"Activating the shrine first was a challenge in itself," we rode past the ruins that surrounded the shrine as I continued, "Laissa, the wife of Kass the poet, sang me an ancient Rito song that contained the solution to the challenge. I quickly found out that through the heart-shaped hole in the steep rock in Rito village, the sun had to shine on an illuminating pedestal and had to be shot with a fire arrow. Shortly thereafter, a shrine rose up from between those ruins and cleared the way for me to take the next test. In the shrine, with the help of my bomb module, I catapulted a huge stone ball at a huge target that was blocked by crumbling stones and floating pedestals that moved back and forth to make my job more difficult. I only had to shoot twice, once to pulverise the stones and a second time to fire at the target at the right moment. It was admittedly one of the easier tests I had to complete." As I told her more and more, her eyes lit up with fascination, but then I remembered that I hadn't even introduced her to Kass, let alone Teba, the Rito's bravest warrior. The thought of Kass led me to remember the final verses of his teacher’s completed ballad.

"Link are you all right? You looked very nervous and troubled for a moment."

"I'm fine. I just remembered one of the freaky trials."

I decided to withhold Kass' ballad from her for the time being, as I wasn't sure if it was true. I just couldn't imagine Zelda seeing me as more than her best friend.

"Do you want to tell me about it? You went through so much before you came to rescue me, and yet I can only begin to comprehend what you've been through."

A spark of admiration flitted across her face, but just as I was about to begin to tell, I harkened and halted abruptly.

Puzzled, Zelda stared at me, but before she could ride past me, I grabbed the reins of Himawari, Zelda's mare, and slowed her down. She neighed loudly in fright, but I managed to shush her with my "Ho! Ho. Hoa!" to calm her down.

Altay sensed danger nearby and flared his nostrils. Nervously, he shook his head and exhaled loudly. He was ready to face the danger.

I heard only the deafening snore of a Hinox, but I knew that if Altay reacted in such a way, there were Yiga nearby who could appear out of nowhere.

I could not hesitate for long, made up my mind quickly.

With my right arm I grabbed Zelda by her waist and dragged her from the saddle onto my lap, slapping Himawari on the back and we galloped as fast as Altay could.

Zelda cried out, constricted in my bent-over stance to brave the wind. I could hear a diabolic laugher, far behind us. I pushed Altay to run faster and quicker.

"Hold on tight!", I yelled against the wind.

Himawari galloped ahead of us, but Altay quickly caught up with her and sprinted past. We had to get away quickly, far away from any lurking danger.

"HYAH!", I yelled and spurred Altay and Himawari on.

The icy headwind whipped my face and froze my ears and nose. I hugged Zelda tighter to me with one arm to protect her from the weather while she wrapped her arms around my neck and buried her face against my shoulder.

I could hear Altay's powerful lungs quivering with joy. I heard every breath as his hooves pawed into the ground. I felt every muscle he moved.

My lungs burned with icy cold, but I gritted my teeth until we reached the crossroads to the Hebra Mountains. Once there, we stopped abruptly and Altay reared back, whinnying. I tightened my legs so as not to fall off the horse and pressed Zelda against me while pulling the reins tight with one hand.

Zelda clung tighter to me as she let out a suppressed squeal.

"Ho! Ho!", I shouted to calm Altay down.

When Himawari reached us, I released my reins, stretched out my arm and grabbed Himawari's reins as she charged towards us. I concentrated, tensing my leg muscles to sit firmly in the saddle, and pulled my arm towards me with all my might to intercept Himawari's momentum. I pulled hard on her reins, keeping Altay under control, and pushed Zelda onto my lap until Himawari came skidding to a halt.

I exhaled with relief and let go of the mare's reins. I relaxed my grip around Zelda's waist so that she could relax. Her legs hung off the side of my lap and her hip was pressed painfully tight against the pommel of my saddle.

"Forgive me Princess, I had to get us away from there as quickly as possible as I sensed through Altay that this place held some danger. I hope I didn't hurt you."

I slid further back in the saddle to move her a little away from the pommel, but I bumped into the pack on my horse's back.

Zelda let go of my neck and looked up at me.

"I could have ridden after you on Himawari, couldn't I?"

"No. I can protect you better if you're right there with me. The Yiga have the art of appearing out of nowhere and attacking you with sword and bow. They could have separated us by waking the sleeping Hynox and kidnapping you quite easily."

Her beautiful face was millimetres from mine, I couldn't help but gaze into her deep green eyes. Her pupils dilated, her lips opened a crack and honey sweet breath, clouded my mind. Feeling her chest rise and fall steadily, I realised my hand was still at her waist and she was sitting on my lap.

I tried to calm my racing pulse and deep breaths so as not to take any more space from her by my strong rise and fall of my broad chest.

Silently, we sat there staring into each other's eyes. Even though I was a disciplined knight, I was only a man. My gaze fell on her slightly parted lips. Magnetically attracted by her breath, my mouth approached hers.

But suddenly a thought flashed through my mind and made me jerk backwards. I was still her knight, protector and closest confidant. I had no right to kiss her.

"Sorry princess. That wasn't planned" I cleared my throat and tried to gather my thoughts. But then I noticed Zelda's sad face.

"Princess? Why are you so sad?"

Zelda furrowed her brows and averted her face. However, it felt like I had put a rift between us.

"It's nothing. We should keep moving or we'll never get to the snow mountains." She signalled me to lower her down. Carefully I hoisted her onto Himawari's saddle and we rode along the mountain pass, following the path. A herd of wild horses crossed our path and galloped ahead of us, across all directions. At the end of the trail was a hut with a campfire and we decided to let the horses rest at this spot.

"What is this place?" Zelda asked.

"Hebra Trailhead Lodge. See that wooden ladder? If we climb that, we'll get to Rosporo Pass. From there we get to the Hebra south summit. The pass to the right of the mountain takes us past Corvash Peak Mountain to Hebra Plunge and Hebra Falls. But the way is a long one on both paths, I suggest making a campfire close to this hut, but stay at the pass.”

--------------

I set my foot down lightly in the snow, huffing as the snow crackled underneath my boot. I had been walking around for at least 10 minutes while trying to keep my steps silent. How did Link always walk so quietly? He could run across a field and not make a sound. How many times had I seen him scramble up the side of a building, sneaking around the townspeople while goofing off.

Link had told me to find hot peppers and wild berries, and I had found neither so far. Somehow I convinced him to let me wander off by myself, though I figured he was staying close in case I needed him.

The quiet landscape around me had been cast in a yellow glow as the sun started sinking behind the mountains. The light hit the snow that clung to the tree branches and the snow sparkled in return. The reflected light from the snow danced on the fresh snow on the ground. I breathed in the cold air while I trekked on, smiling as I took in the beauty of it all. I couldn’t imagine ever getting used to the beauty of the Hebra region.

Soon I found a group of wild berry bushes and began plucking the berries into my pack. I wasn’t sure what Link was planning to teach me to cook tonight, but I was excited that it included fruit. The peppers had thrown me off, but they would be useful in the cold region we were in. Even if we didn’t use them for dinner, it was a good idea to keep them on hand.

After collecting all the berries I could find, I continued on. I knew that peppers grew better in more open areas and that there were cliffsides near the area I was in, Hopefully there were some peppers there. I forced myself to walk faster, I was losing daylight and I was supposed to meet Link back at the campsite by nightfall.

Shaking my head, I tried to get Link out of my head. He was only going to be a distraction. Plus, I was upset with him. Well, maybe frustrated was a better word. Frustrated actually explained a lot of how I was feeling lately.

I hadn’t let Link know, but after our almost run in with the Yiga earlier today, my sense of helplessness had only grown. He could sense the smallest sign of danger and had once again had to escort me to safety. Meanwhile I had been oblivious to it until I heard the faint laugh of the Yiga member. Even then, the only instinct I had was to hide my face in Link’s shoulder while my fear frightened me in place. Truthfully I was thankful Link was there and had the skills to detect such danger.

However, it had since dawned on me that my education as the royal daughter had done little to prepare me to live in the world that existed now. Of course, no one could have predicted what would happen. But out here in the wild, there was no use for arithmetic, or table manners, or citing the favourite literature among the nobility. Life here was driven by work done with labour and skilled hands. The civilians that still lived across Hyrule all knew how to collect and make the supplies they needed.

But I knew nothing. I didn’t know how to find more substantial resources, create shelter, make my own clothes, or defend myself. This is what I had been trying to tell Link for a few days now. But each time I brought it up, he brushed it off. Saying that he knew all of those skills and therefore I didn’t need to. Which is why I was frustrated with him.

But he had already promised to teach me how to forage for food and cook. That was a start, at least. And while Link was healing well from his fall, he still wasn’t well enough to do all the work by himself. Though if someone asked him if he was, he would say yes with an annoying amount of confidence.

I set another foot down, attempting to be lighter. I held my breath as my boot sunk in the snow, waiting for the sound of the crunch. But this time my footstep was silent. A small victory, but I let myself have it.

Shifting my foot to take another step, I brought my hand to grab the bow slung around my chest. I smiled as I remembered how excited I was to wear it like Link did. It was an extra great eagle bow that Link had in his pack. He had made a joke that it was weak enough that if I accidentally shot him, it wouldn’t hurt that badly. Rolling my eyes and threatening to take him up on that offer, I had taken the bow gratefully. It had also been another tiny win in my favor. Maybe my frustrations were unwarranted.

My face grew red as I also remembered that Link had offered to show me how to use it. For some reason I accepted his offer, even though I had been taught archery before the calamity. Archery was one of the few useful skills I had been instructed in growing up, although back then I didn’t care for it much. Also, I was a terrible shot.

I felt my hands shake as I remembered using another bow. The bow of light. The sacred bow of light had been given to me by the Goddess before I went to fight Ganon. The bow had somehow felt familiar as I gripped it for the first time. I had not had time to practice using it and I didn’t need to. I had used it countless times before, in other life times. Heading to the castle, I was armed only with the bow and my sealing power to face my enemy alone.

I shuddered at the memory and I gripped the great eagle bow tighter. There were no sacred ties or unfair duties with this bow. I could use this one and just be another girl hunting. The quiver Link had given me only had a few arrows in it, but I could target practice if I wanted to. Weighing the idea in my mind, I turned my head toward the horizon. I sighed as I realized the sun was starting to sink, which meant that I needed to hurry. There would not be enough time to practice and collect what I needed to.

Luckily the cliffs weren’t too far away, but the sun had beat me. It was now dark, the stars and moon finally showing themselves. I used the light of the moon to scan the cleared area by the cliffs, my eyes taking a moment to adjust to the dark. I finally found a few peppers growing at the far end of the area and began pulling them off their vines. I smiled and felt my mood lighten a bit, proud of myself for finding them. Even if I was late to the task. Just as soon as I was done, I heard footsteps coming from around the corner.

I turned in alarm, but relaxed as I saw Link come into view. Puffs of hot air followed him as he slowed his run to a walk.

“Zelda! There you are.” He smiled, and continued to walk over to me. His face was changing from a frown to relief, as if he had been worried about me. I felt anger prickle at my hands, why couldn’t I have made it back in time instead of causing Link to worry? There went my better mood.

“Do you not trust me? I am fine. I was about to head back to the stable.” I said, letting my annoyance show. A look of confusion spread over Link’s face, his mouth tried to form words in response.

“No! I mean yes I trust you I just-” He started. But his initial response of “no” set me off.

“You must really think I’m that helpless. Maybe you’re right. You gave me an easy task and I couldn’t even complete it before nightfall.” I said, walking back towards Link. I felt my voice start to get louder, frustration taking over. “And I couldn’t even be a few minutes late without you having to run around to find me. Maybe this is hopeless and I should just-”

“Zelda!” Link cut me off. “Zelda, hold on. None of that is true.” He said, his brows furrowing in concern.

“Well then why did you come running all the way over here? Like I am just some child you lost sight of.” I huffed. Why was I getting so mad at him? It was misdirected anger, I was more upset with myself for losing track of time today. I was about to continue when Link grabbed my wrists, bringing me closer to him and closing the rest of the distance between us.

He rolled his eyes at me, but rubbed his thumbs once over the top of my hands. Warmth flowed through them instantly, and my heart pounded. “I came over here to show you something. And I was running because I didn’t want you to miss it. Now stop being so stubborn and look up.” He said, sliding one arm around my waist when I tried to pull away before he finished his sentence. But then I stopped and followed his instructions.

A gasp escaped my mouth as I glanced up. The sky was lit up in streams of green and bright pink light. The light snaked across the sky, playfully shifting down toward the ground almost as if it were teasing the tops of the mountains. Aurora borealis, I thought. One of my tutors had told me about the lights in the sky, but I never had been able to see them for myself. They weren’t viewable from the castle. I must have been so caught up in my search that I didn’t notice the show the night sky was putting on.

I felt my arms relax and I let my hand fall to land on the top of Link’s arm which was still around my waist, but Link held my other hand in place to lay flat on his chest. I thanked Hylia for the cold air, giving an excuse for the redness creeping across my face. I gave his arm a soft squeeze, letting him know I saw what he wanted me to look at. But I kept my gaze on the lights. They were beautiful, like dancers waltzing across the night sky. Sometimes the green and pink hues shifted to purple or blue, but they were breathtaking regardless of what color they chose to be.

I finally forced my gaze away from them, back to Link. He had been watching them too, but looked back down at me when he saw my head shift. For a second I just let myself stare back into his eyes, and he searched my face as always. What was he searching for this time? Did he only see his sovereign and friend starting back at him, or did he see something more? At night, did he dream of my eyes too?

I suddenly became all too aware of how close we were. Link’s arms around me, my hands on top of his. Our bodies more or less pressed against each other. Of course he had held me like this because I was trying to push away from him and I would have missed the lights if he hadn’t. But he was lingering, he technically didn’t have to have his arms around me anymore. I technically didn’t have to have my arms touching him. We technically didn’t have to be staring silently at each other for this long, but we were.

I could have died right there and been content. But I didn’t dare let myself to think that this moment meant more. But perhaps it did. I remembered the moment the day before, when we had been escaping the Yiga. Had he been trying to kiss me or did I imagine that?

“I was being stubborn again, wasn’t I?” I finally breathed, forcing my eyes to look somewhere else.

“You were. But you always are.” He laughed. I could feel the vibrations of his laugh from how close we were. I still wasn’t over his laugh. A thing that only the Link from this time did.

“Well you were right, as you always are. That was quite beautiful. I have always wanted to see the lights and I never thought I would. Thank you.” I replied, giving him a smile in return.

The corners of his eyes crinkled as his smile grew wider. He let go of his hold on me, taking a step back. My hands fell back to my side and I felt the loss of warmth immediately. But he still stared back at me, his blue eyes almost glowing in the moonlight.

“Er, do you want to practice with the bow before we head back?” Link asked. His cheeks were red, probably from the cold. But a little part of me thought maybe he was blushing.

I nodded and turned to follow him.

As we walked to find a good area to practice, I replayed the past fews days back in my head. Starting from when Link woke me up with his prank, the compliment he gave me on the stairs back in Rito Village, then when evaded danger before I even knew anything was wrong. The redness on my face deepened when I remembered being pulled into his lap as we outran the Yiga on horseback. His instincts and strength were impressive, to say the least.

And just now, standing under the lights while being more or less in his arms.

All of these were innocent moments, really. But I knew I would replay them in my head for a long time. The image of his blue eyes staring back into mine would surely keep me up tonight.

And it was then an odd thought occurred to me. Blue was my favorite color.

“Is here okay?” Link spoke up, bringing me back from my thoughts. He was giving me a smug look, and only then did I realize he had led us to the flight range.

I was surprised to see the range after so long, but pleased to see that it hadn’t changed much in over a century. I sighed woefully as I remembered the countless times Revali showed off his skills here. Taking off on an upwind with his wings spread wide and shooting all the targets in a blink of an eye. Taking a deep breath, I hoped I would make him proud with the amateur archery skills I possessed.

“Yes. I believe this will work.” I answered, pulling the bow over my head and reaching for an arrow. I looked over at Link and he stepped back with a nod, giving me space to practice.

Suddenly I felt very nervous to practice in front of Link, and I now regretted not taking the time to shoot a couple of arrows earlier when I was alone. I fumbled with the arrow. The bow of light had been so easy to use. Almost like the bow had done the work for me, or maybe the adrenaline I had back then had made it easier to use.

Link stood back and motioned for me to continue. With the arrow finally nocked, I raised the bow with my arms shaking. I had seen Link jump in the air and shoot an arrow in one swift motion, with little effort. He must have been humored by my struggle, I couldn’t bear to look to see if he was. Pulling my right arm back, I aimed for the closest target in front of me. I could tell before I released it the arrow that it would miss, my shaky arms making it a clumsy shot.

The arrow in fact missed the target, whizzing past it to land in the snow. Still, I was encouraged by the speed of the arrow. I just needed to get better at my aim.

“That was good.” Link said, suddenly appearing next to me. “Here, nock another bow. If you straighten your arms more you’ll make your mark.”

He stood behind me as I pulled another bow out of the quiver and nocked it. He reached up and put his right arm on my right elbow, raising it so my arm was perfectly horizontal. His left arm lightly touched my waist, straightening my posture.

“When you draw the bow back, one finger should be above the arrow with two fingers supporting it from underneath. And you want your right hand to be right next to your mouth. Go ahead and try.” He whispered by my ear, and he stood back.

I drew the bow back, making sure my hand was even with my mouth and arms were level. I released the arrow, sighing as the arrow missed the target again. But it was closer, barely missing.

I continued practicing, with Link stepping in to give pointers. Every once in a while nudging my waist or correcting my arm form with a light touch. Everytime, my breath caught in my throat when I felt his hands on me. In truth, he was distracting me more than he was helping me.

But I didn’t stop him from doing it, even though I felt a little guilty not telling him that I had been educated in archery. But between me being out of practice and Link making me nervous, I was fumbling like a true inexperienced archer.

Finally, I shot three arrows into the target. While they were nowhere close to the bullseye I was still ecstatic with my progress. I felt myself smile wide after each one and with Link would give me a thumbs up in approval. His face beaming at me after I made the third one, I raised my arms in the air in a cheer. Link walked over pulling me into a big hug and swung me around in a circle. I laughed as he spun me, throwing my head back and feeling the wind whip my hair around.

I stumbled as he sat me back down, feeling joy fill my heart and spread through my limbs.

“I have a confession.” I said, laughing still. Link looked at me, his eyebrows raised with a smile still on his face. “Well I, uh, was taught archery back then. Obviously I’m rusty and I appreciated the pointers. But just thought I should tell you.” I looked down at my shoes, slightly embarrassed about my confession.

“So you just let me teach you something you already knew, like a moron?” Link asked, his voice playful. When I looked up at him I could tell he had tried to look angry, but he was awful at hiding the smile he wore.

I nodded and shrugged, glad he wasn’t actually upset.

“Shame on you, Princess. Shame on you.” He chuckled, shaking his head.

“I apologize! And your tips were still quite useful, thank you. They will certainly help me in my practice.” I slung the bow back over my head.

“Good. I guess that makes me feel better.” He stated, shifting his feet a little in the snow. “I’m not really ready to go back yet. Do you want to go find somewhere to sit? We can watch the lights some more.”

I stared at him, gasping in disbelief. “I never thought I would see the day that you would push off dinner. I thought you would be starving by now.”

He put a hand to his stomach and laughed. “Oh, I am. But it’s such a beautiful night, we might as well enjoy it. Unless you are ready for dinner?” He asked.

It was late already, it had been a few hours since the sun had set. But I wasn’t really hungry yet. “No, I can wait. Let’s go.” I answered, motioning for him to lead.

But Link took me by surprise, by tucking his arm in mine and giving me a smile before leading us away from the range. My skin tingled where he made contact, and I silently sighed in my mind.

I wished I had the courage to ask him about his feelings. Did he do everything for me out of duty? Out of friendship? Out of something more? These thoughts had kept me up at night recently. I often came to the conclusion that I was okay with the way things were. Having Link around and allowing our friendship to continue to grow was enough.

Honestly, most days it was enough. But moments like this, when he would do something out of his usual behavior that I felt the need to know what was actually going through his mind. Our conversation this morning only caused me to wonder more.

However, Link’s memory was still fragile. I wanted to give him space and time to heal. Putting strain on our friendship, the one thing that was a constant for him, would certainly not be the best thing for him.

Link led us back to the clearing on the cliff. He let go of my arm to clear snow off of two rocks that were at the edge of the clearing, then motioned for me to sit next to him.

“Thank you.’ I said, sitting down. I left a small space between us on the rock. Looking up at the sky, I could still see the lights. They were fainter now, but they still danced across the sky.

“How is your shoulder doing?” I asked him. It had been a few days since his fall, and while he certainly was healing faster than a normal Hylian, I was worried he was hiding his pain.

“Oh, it’s a little sore and stiff. I should probably be stretching it more than I am. But it is feeling a lot better.” He replied while shifting his shoulder a few times for emphasis.

“I’m glad to hear it. You really had me worried there. And your head? How does it feel?” I picked at a loose thread on my pants while I waited for his answer.

“Good as well. It hasn’t really hurt since the first day I woke up. A little tender if I touch it I suppose. My ribs are still sore, if that is your next question.” He said, nudging my shoulder with his.

I nudged him back. “Yes it was. Well, like I said. I am glad you are getting better. A shame that you are such a clumsy hero though.” I teased.

His head turned to look at me, rolling his eyes again. “Hmm. I don’t think you want to talk to me about being clumsy.” He chuckled, his shoulders shaking as he did so. But then he got a serious look on his face. “I am sorry about that though, Zelda. I really am. I honestly should have been more careful. Never would I have ever wanted to cause you such distress.”

I looked back up at him and I could see the sincerity in his eyes. “I know. There is no need to apologize though.” I answered, feeling my brows scrunch on my face.

Link leaned down a bit closer. “Well, there is. And I also need to say thank you. For what you did, even if I was mad about it. You saved me, Zelda.”

Oh he was close, way too close to my face. I wanted to lean in closer, it would have been so easy to close the distance between us. And he was looking at me again like he did yesterday.

But there were things we needed to talk about. And I suddenly felt a little brave, I decided it was time to ask him a few of the questions that had been haunting me for weeks now.

“It’s what we do for each other.” I said, looking away. “Speaking of that. I hope you don’t mind me asking, but there have been a few things I have wanted to ask you for awhile now.”

Link tilted his head, waiting for me to continue.

“What do…” I stopped. I wasn’t sure where to begin. “Do you remember the first time we traveled to Rito Village together? Before the Calamity?” I asked. I decided to start small and ask him about a few specific memories.

He sighed, though I wasn’t sure if it was out of surprise or frustration. “Can you tell me a little more about it?” He asked.

“Oh yes, of course.” I said, pausing to think about which details of the trip to describe. “Well, we had traveled from the castle to Rito Village to get an update from Revali on how he was managing to pilot Vah Medoh. Along the way, we ran into some ice lizalfos on the way, but you took care of them. Later, we had dinner with Kaneli, Revali, and some others. Nothing important happened on the excursion, I just chose a random moment to ask you about.” I answered, fiddling with the loose thread again.

Link’s face scrunched up in thought, his eyes moving back and forth as he combed through his memories. Then his face fell and he hung his head. “No, I’m sorry I don’t think I do.”

“It’s okay, Link. Like I said, it’s not an important memory. May I ask another question though?” I shot a side glance at him and saw him nod.

“Do you remember obtaining the Master Sword the first time?”

“No.” He answered quickly. “I have tried to remember that. But I haven’t been able to.” He said, his voice quiet.

I sighed apologetically. “Oh. I’m sorry for bringing it up, Link. I won’t ask about it anymore.” I was worried I had pushed him too far before he was ready.

“No, it’s fine. Maybe asking questions will help remind me of something.” He said, lifting his head to look at me.

I thought about something else to ask him, and there were so many things I could have. But I decided to go a different route. “Yesterday you said you wandered Hyrule with no memory. Is that true? Do you remember anything about your life before becoming a knight?”

This caused Link to lean forward into his hands, sighing into his palms. He stayed like that for a minute, not moving. Then he pushed his hair out of his face and sat up. He glanced over at me and cleared his throat. “I don’t remember my life before being assigned your knight. Honestly, I don’t remember much, at all. Most of my memories are tied to the pictures in the slate.” He finally answered.

I closed my eyes, I had figured as much. But it was still devastating for him to admit it. I wrung my hands together, attempting to come up with something appropriate to say. But what do you say to something like that?

“So everything you did after you woke up, training to defeat Ganon, freeing the Divine Beasts, saving me.... You did all of that without remembering who you were?” I asked.

He nodded. “Yours was the first voice I heard and you helped me when I didn’t even know my name. I was told by everyone else what my destiny was and what to do. That was enough until I started to reclaim some of my memory. Then bit by bit, I started to remember you and the champions. I didn’t remember everything, and I still don’t, but I knew I missed you and the others. I knew I wanted to save you and see you again.”

He paused, and turned his face toward the sky. I didn’t think he was going to speak again, but he did.

“Seeing you safe, healthy, and smiling. That’s been enough for me. More than enough. Even if I don’t remember, I know I did the right thing.” A small smile found itself on his face as he looked back at me.

I smiled back, feeling my heart pound in my chest as I met his blue eyes again. What he said made some of his behavior make more sense. He was still the old Link in the way that he was always striving to do good and how devoted he was to his duty. But he had also changed, he was taller, goofier, and talked more. The weight he felt of being the one who wielded the sword that sealed the darkness now gone as our destiny was behind us.

“Is that what you wanted to tell me earlier?” I asked him.

“Oh that? No. I’m still not ready for that.” He said, his eyes leaving mine for the ground.

“That’s okay. I can respect that.”

We sat in silence for a while as the weight of our conversation set in. I was happy we had made some progress, he hadn’t allowed me to talk about his memory before. But we were the only people who knew what the other person had gone through and it was time we began to heal. Together.

“I’m kind of hungry now, should we head back to the campsite?” I asked, standing up and offering my hand out toward him. He looked at my hand for a second before smiling and taking it.

And while I thought he would let it go after a moment, he didn’t. So, we walked hand in hand back to the campsite, with my hungry knight leading the way.

------------------

I was already awake before the first morning rays of sunshine, as the issues of last night did not allow me to rest in my sleep. I lay on my back in my sleeping bag and put my hands under my head. I looked up at the clear starry sky, which slowly gave way to the light of the sun.

"Zelda." I whispered.

No reply. Just a soft breathing.

"Zelda." I repeated, a little louder this time.

"Mmhm...?" she murmured sleepily.

"Wake up please, I have something to tell you that you should know."

I felt Zelda slowly wake up beside me, but I couldn't look her in the face. Even though I loved watching her sleep and wake up, my heart was too heavy.

"I'm awake now, what's the matter Link?"

"Remember Kass the poet? He was the Sheikah Court Poet's student."

Beside me, I heard Zelda draw in a sharp breath. In my mind's eye, I knew her big green eyes were wide and her mouth was half open. Still, I was unable to look at her.

She waited patiently for me to continue speaking.

"On my journey I met Kass very often, he sang me ballads of ancient times and helped me with the song lyrics to solve problems in the respective region. But his main task was to complete his master's song. It was a tragic ballad about both of us, but it was mainly about you, to help me recover my memory. Eventually, I managed to help Kass collect ancient songs all over Hyrule, so he managed to complete the ballad."

I exhaled heavily as thoughts about the verses kept circling in my head without finding an answer.

"Link, you seem so tense... Is there something wrong with the ballad of Sakasai?"

an old, long-forgotten memory suddenly burst into my mind. A memory of Zelda and Sakasai standing close together, whispering and laughing, while Zelda had not even glanced at me. I was Zelda's appointed knight and yet she didn't want me around and always rejected me.

I swallowed hard.

"Kass told me that his master often told him how beautiful you had been - and still are. Kass said he would like to compose a song to match your beauty and wished to meet you one day."

When Zelda still didn't say anything after a while, I finally turned my head towards her. My gaze met her brimming eyes, waiting for the truth.

"Link, that can't be all that's bothering you - please tell me. What is it that you can't tell me?"

"I... I... just can't tell you it, Zelda. Please accept it. For now."

Zelda frowned but nodded silently.

“About that song Kass wanted to write about me, I hope he is somewhere nearby! I am eager to hear, what he would sing about me, and how his music would sound. Please Link, please let me meet him!”

I looked at the beautiful face next to me, stared at her, without saying a word. I brushed a golden stray of her hair behind her ear and smiled.

“Of course, I will do that, why wouldn’t I want to let my princess become a song sung for future generations?”

She giggled and cuddled onto my arm, falling in a light sleep again, while I watched over her, as I did back then, now, and forever.

Zelda and Link watching the Aurora Borealis - commissioned from @/rutisfree on twitter for our romantic scene ♥️

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hbdttg · 3 years ago

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lmao when galavan is talking about the dumas and his past and bruce being the one to die for his family’s sins...bruce is straight up like What The Fuck Is Happening. bc this is the first time he’s really been exposed to this whimsical fuckery and it’s hilarious. before this it’s all been his parents’ murder and wayne enterprises corruption...just your everyday, run-of-the-mill, real world stuff – then BAM monks and ceremonies and shit

HA if i was stuck in a dungeon, hours away from death, and the girl who was sent by her family to play a part of my capture/downfall/death/etc. was in my cell with me asking what my favorite goddamn animal was and talking about dolphins and birthday parties, i’d rip out her fucking hair. bruce is a better man than i

also...not bruce’s fave animal being owls @____@

lee’s pregnancy reveal is so funny. jim’s face and his helpless sigh. and then the shot of oswald by himself in the frame, for no other reason than to show us his ‘i can’t believe this heterosexual nonsense’ eyeroll

ugHH i love s2 ed. his skulking about the gcpd, knowing he knows more than anyone else in that entire shithole. his lil riddle to harvey, alfred and lucius. his look of complete surprise and disbelief when lucius answers it correctly (!!)

2x02 harvey to jim after coming back to the force following essen's death: “we are who we are, right? no use fighting it” 2x11 oswald to lee as she and jim prepare to leave gotham: “please don’t think too badly of me. we are what we are” ^^^ the entire theme of this whole dumb show. but also peep harvey’s “who” versus oswald’s “what”. UGH OSWALD you are a human person please be kind to yourself

i hate that some people call lee ‘ms. thompkins’. she’s a doctor, use her title. ed’s done it before, and oswald does it too this episode. it’s super annoying

okay but escape via parachute is the dumbest fucking idea i’ve ever heard. galavan is a huge fucking idiot (but good for tabitha and silver)

<insert every single meta i’ve ever read about the galavan murder scene here. all of them. this is such a powerful scene. for reasons. GOBBLEPOT REASONS> but also, imagine if took place at the p i e r ???!?!!?

lolol oswald’s wanted poster is killing me. why did they use the least incriminating photo of him possible? he’s just a smiling baby with a side part, ohhNOooO. what’s he wanted for? being a cutie? being a sweetheart??

okay but victor is a hottie. he can freeze and abduct anyone he wants, who even cares? not me

oh ho ho not jim’s AND ed’s intense stares as oswald’s hauled through the precinct and into the holding cell. they want to fuck him so bad it makes them look stupid

bahahaha the build-up to the pharmacist defrosting is beautiful. just tiny ed padding around the forensics lab, doing his little tasks...big yawn so it’s coffee time...comes back, more tasks – wait a second the body is gone. huh.

#gotham #lazy gotham season 2 rewatch #episodes 11-12 #hbd

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whatifxwereyou · 3 years ago

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Firestorm Part 9: Isolation

Fandom: Mortal Kombat 2021 Liu Kang x Reader

A/N: skalfjwealjf I live for the angst

Start From the Beginning << Previous Chapter Next Chapter >> Chapter Index

Your head was pounding. The stone you leaned against seemed to bounce with the throbbing of your head. A soft wet cloth was dabbed against it. Droplets trickled down your forehead and over your cheek only to be wiped away by a familiar hand.

Liu Kang.

You opened your eyes and found yourself curled against the wall in Raiden’s chamber. That was right. He’d had to read you after all that had happened in the fight pit. Each time you woke up from these experiences you had to face the terror of finding your friends injured and exhausted. But this time they didn’t seem to be any different than when you’d last seen them. Liu Kang’s eyes were filled with concern but he said nothing as he dabbed your burning skin. He offered you the faintest flicker of a smile to acknowledge that you were awake.

Behind him sat Kung Lao with his knees folded. He looked nervous. He had several scrapes that had been tended to while you’d been unconscious. Liu Kang looked like he hadn’t bothered seeing anyone for his.

“She’s awake.” Kung Lao’s eyes darted to the side as Raiden approached from somewhere behind him.

“Good.”

The guilt was overwhelming. Again. Guilt for hurting them. Guilt for being so useless in those moments. You’d been strong once but now you felt as though that were something you were incapable of. It was frustrating. You’d felt strong for just a few seconds before it had all gone horribly wrong.

“We must unravel this curse.” Raiden crouched next to where you were leaning. “I fear that there is not much time left for us to do so.” You had nothing to say. He was right. You knew that. “I think that we must uncover who you truly are, Y/N.”

“We know who she is.” Kung Lao was defensive. He’d always been defensive when it came to that kind of thing. Even as kids, he’d stood up for you when anyone questioned you.

“Kung Lao, that is not what I meant. I mean that there is more to her than what we know. I have a feeling that this thing is a part of you that’s hidden away, Y/N. Your gift of sight is unrelated to your arcana. I think that the answer might lie in your heritage. Something isn’t connecting. We have only parts of the full picture. There is a mystery within your mystery. I wish for you to return to the place where you were born to try and uncover it.”

“Most people went to Guilin for more complicated medical procedures. That’s probably a good place to start.” Kung Lao was again at your defense.

“I wasn’t born there,” You finally spoke but your voice sounded tired. Liu Kang kept dabbing the cloth over your forehead. The cold was soothing but it also gave you the shivers. You were freezing. It was probably a damn fever again. You missed having normal crappy days. Days where you’d been fine other than an annoying sinus headache or a stubbed toe. Everyday seemed to be something new and horrible now. At least it didn’t seem like you’d hurt anyone after you’d given yourself over to Raiden so he could understand what you’d seen. “I was born in South Korea. My parents moved to China shortly after I was born.”

“Really?” Kung Lao was surprised, maybe even a little annoyed that he hadn’t known that about you. He had been the Y/N-expert thus far. It was kind of charming how defensive he was over you.

“Yeah. Mom’s Korean and Dad’s Chinese. I’m trying to remember where it was.” You furrowed your brow and massaged your temple. Liu smoothed your hair back and you gave him a look but he averted his eyes with a slight smile. “Andong, I think. I meant to visit as I got older but never got around to it. I used to have the address to their old apartment but… that’s been lost. If I looked at a map, then I could probably at least find some familiar names.”

“When you have recovered then you will go to Andong.” Raiden instructed.

“To what end?” You frowned. What did he expect you to find there? It wasn’t like there would be answers hiding in any obvious places. For all you knew the apartment your parents had shared before they’d moved to China had been demolished and replaced with something else. And it wasn’t like you could ask anyone. Your remaining family thought you were dead.

“Start with birth records. There are memories, Y/N. Memories that I cannot see.

He could see your memories? Oh no. You didn’t like that.

“Memories?”

“Important parts of your history are locked away. They are hidden much like parts of your visions are. Someone doesn’t want you to know what is hidden there. Someone doesn’t want us to know. You must uncover these truths.”

“I still don’t understand how I’m supposed to do that.” It felt impossible.

“You will find a way. I have faith.” Raiden’s encouraging smile backed with the determination behind his eyes was encouraging even if you were running out of hope that there was anything after this for you other than being locked away until you withered and ultimately died. “Find a connection to your birthplace. Find your story where it starts. At the beginning.” When he said it, it made perfect sense but you still had no idea what you were looking for. “Liu Kang and Kung Lao will accompany you. I have a feeling that whatever has been hidden from you will be quite dangerous to reveal.”

“Okay.” You had no room to argue with a god. Any idea was better than no idea and Raiden seemed confident. Going to where the artifacts had been hidden in your vision had yielded results. If Lord Raiden thought that you needed to visit Andong and look at your birth records then you would.

“I’ll still take you to the city before we go. I promised.” Kung Lao smiled brightly at you. He seemed to be a beacon of positivity in a room of heavy energy.

“I could probably get what I need in Andong.” You didn’t see the point of taking a separate trip. You were far less worried about that now anyway. What was the likelihood that you even could get pregnant? You were so sick. Your body barely had any energy to give to you nonetheless a baby. You were pretty sure that something akin to a parasite would not survive within what you were now considering an inhospitable environment.

“No, no. I promised we’d go. And it’ll be a nice break before we go to Korea.” Kung Lao smiled and this suddenly seemed important to him so you weren’t going to argue. You didn’t have the energy to argue. Besides, you could use a few new things. “One of the monks offered to come with us just in case you needed medical assistance. Your friend. The mean one.”

“Chen?” You could not mentally comprehend the embarrassment of going on a trip with Chen and Kung Lao to the city so you could buy condoms and birth control because of Liu Kang. Later. That would be a horrible situation for later. Right now you were feeling too exhausted and defeated to deal with unpacking that. “Is that safe?”

“With Kung Lao there you should be fine.” Liu Kang spoke for the first time since you’d woken up. His voice sounded weary. He’d cleaned up but his scrapes on his face and arms weren’t tended to. The guilt again. It was awful.

“Raiden said he’d be on alert in case anything went wrong.”

“I just don’t know if it makes sense to do anything unnecessary right now.” You were afraid to go out into the world again.

“You can’t stop living because something might happen.” Liu bowed his head politely, clasping the prayer beads in his palm. He’d stopped dabbing your forehead. You knew he was right but it didn’t mean it was easy for you to consider putting anyone in harm’s way.

“Rest for a day or two. But no longer. There is work to be done.”

“I don’t think that whatever this is plans on allowing me to recover. It almost feels like… this happened because I had regained some ground earlier. It felt the need to take it away from me. I don’t know if that’s crazy or not.” You were sure that sounded silly. But judging by the look on everyone’s faces, they didn’t think it was crazy or silly at all.

“Rest, Y/N.” Raiden bowed his head.

“I’ll bring you to your new space so you can do that.” Liu Kang set aside the cloth, next to the bowl he’d been getting water from on the floor. He seemed to have much more to say on the matter but held his tongue. You guessed that whatever it was he wanted to say would be said in a private conversation later.

“I’ll start moving things.” Kung Lao jumped to his feet and dusted off his hands. Raiden offered you his hand and you took it. You were wobbly and exhausted, hands tingling. What had happened while you’d been out of it to make you feel this drained?

“Don’t be defeated. We will figure this out. I have a feeling that we’re close. Like you said, you were getting stronger when this happened. Whoever is behind this wants you to feel defeated. They want you to feel like you have no control. We will not allow that to happen.” Raiden’s determination on your behalf was remarkable. It must have been much easier to make lofty promises while being a god. You were a little touched that they were so willing to help you but the truth was that you were weak. You felt weak. The little bit of strength that you’d regained had been taken from you. You felt like you could have gone to sleep and never woken up. If it hadn’t been for Liu Kang and Kung Lao then you probably would have.

You thought that whoever was behind this was doing an exceptional job. Not to compliment them or anything but you were defeated. You were exhausted. At the end of your rope, even. Liu Kang offered you his arm and you took it. Raiden watched you go. Kung Lao chattered along the way but neither you nor Liu had much to say in return. It didn’t bother Kung Lao. He was happy to fill the silence.

“What happened when I was out this time?” You asked when Kung Lao parted ways with you. He was headed to your old room to gather some of your things while Liu Kang brought you to your new room. A much more isolated place. It was a far longer walk so far. Liu Kang sighed heavily as if he did not wish to discuss this. You were sure it was something ridiculous like talking in crazy demon voices and ink exploding out of you. “Come on, tell me.” You wanted to understand the exhaustion you were feeling.

“Nothing happened.” Liu didn’t sound very convincing.

“Bull.” You tried to joke but Liu Kang stopped walking in the hallway. He grabbed your hand to stop you from walking too and then stepped closer to you. He took your other hand and held both between you.

“Really. Nothing happened. You just… laid there.” He seemed more upset by this than he had been when you’d been speaking in odd voices and making ink thrones and dragons. “Raiden thinks that you were too drained to do more. At least that’s what he said.”

“And you don’t believe him?”

“I think that Raiden finds it easy to avoid saying things that might make us act rashly.” Liu Kang didn’t sound like he approved of the idea but he didn’t sound angry about it either. “Or sometimes he thinks it is better not to mention them.”

“And what is it you think he’s not saying” You didn’t like his tone. You didn’t like the implications. Liu Kang seemed to be the one avoiding saying what he thought was happening. He looked down at your hands and suddenly you understood without him having to say it at all. That was why Raiden had said that he didn’t think there was much time left.

Oh.

“We’re going to figure this out.”

“I’m not dying, Liu Kang.” You sounded awfully confident for a woman who had just considered going to sleep and never getting back up. Liu averted his eyes but you could see the slightest smile on his lips.

“I know.” He decided after a long moment of silence. “I won’t let you.”

You knew that neither one of you truly had control over life or death but you would fight until the end no matter what that end was. It was cruel to have someone like Liu Kang come into your life only for this to happen. It was cruel to be reunited with your childhood best friend only to slowly decay and potentially lose him again. You didn’t want to hurt them more than you already had. You had never wanted to hurt anyone. Even in your worst moments, when you’d been angry at the world, angry at the people of your hometown for treating you so terribly, you had never wished pain or unhappiness upon any of them.

But hurt was unavoidable. You had already hurt them.

“At least you didn’t have to fight my arcana while I was out of it this time.” You gestured down the hall and Liu Kang led them onward but didn’t let go of one of your hands. He just casually held it as you walked like that was no big deal.

“It is a pleasure to fight your arcana, Y/N. Even if you are exhausting in those moments.”

“You’re very sweet but I know that it’s draining for you. Maybe I was just too exhausted from everything that happened in the fight pit. Did Raiden tell you anything about the man I saw? How could I create someone and mimic their power like that without having ever seen them? I can barely create you two and control you properly and I know you very well.”

“He suspects that whoever has cursed you did it. Not you. That was all he told us.”

“I thought that thing was going to kill me. What a way to go. Killed by my own arcana. Are there any records of that? Would I be a first?”

“Not the first. There have been a few unfortunate incidents… one involving a laser and well, you wouldn’t be the first.” Liu Kang managed to joke with you and that was a relief. He led you down a flight of steps and the hall at the bottom was dark. Liu bathed his palm in fire and led you down the hallway and around the corner. The room he led you into was smaller than the one you’d had before but it was more secure. No windows and the doors were heavy. There was an old table with a singular candle atop it. Liu lit the candle before extinguishing the flame in his palm. “Welcome to your new home. Are you sure this is what you want?”

“I can’t think of another option, Liu.”

“But what if you get trapped… Kung Lao told me about that morning and…”

“No one else will get hurt because of me.” You spoke firmly. There was no arguing with you on this. “When I’m not this volatile then I will happily move back to the other room. But until then, Liu, this is the only solution that I can come up with.”

“I don’t like this, Y/N.”

“I know you don’t. I don’t either. But it’s the right thing to do.”

He sighed heavily. The door opened behind you and Kung Lao came in holding your entire desk. Then he slammed it down inside the room. “It’s too dark in that hallway. We have to put in some lights. I nearly died getting down here.”

“There’s got to be an easier way to move my things than you blindly carrying them through dimly lit hallways like a crazy person.”

“Name one.”

“I’ll go get a dolly.” Liu Kang patted you on the shoulder and then shook his head in dismay at Kung Lao before they continued about the task of moving your things to your new space. You sat on the edge of the desk and looked at the small, dark room. This was temporary. You would leave this space successful. You had to.

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onitekka · 3 years ago

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asks be upon ye

What subjects did your OC excel at?

How does your OC react to and handle stress?

What are some things that annoy your OC?

how long has this been here. I'm almost scared to ask

anyway. we're adding a new character to the ask games roster, being Holly, my aasimar monk. There's no yellow, so orange will do.

Hope would've really liked English Lit lessons, though I feel like she'd be getting average grades. Music classes are the obvious pick, too. Moth would be good in biology, and their eagerness to learn shows. Priwyn is currently still trying to get her head round Normal School, but I think he's doing well at algebra. Holly would be on the track team, and Design/Tech classes too.

Hope either gains more of a sarcastic, blunt edge to her, or if it's very stressful she tends to freeze and default to whatever she's told to do in the moment. not the best at comforting other people who are stressed, but she'll try. Moth represses, especially now theyve got the Emotions Axe. They're not very good at this whole..people thing. Priwyn starts shaking at the slightest amount of stress. Holly gets angry and more aggressive until they just find something to hit to blow off steam.

Moth finds whispering annoying. It's harder for them to make out and just kind of sounds like static. Hope hates when people brush against them, even just momentarily, as well as eating noises (just close your mouth it's not hard). Priwyn has a personal vendetta against people who chew pens/ pencils (pumpernickel is also a contender. she's annoying (affectionate)). Holly has a rant locked and loaded about the commercialisation of marriage and weddings at all times.

#💌#bdigfreakingwooper #are d&t classes a thing worldwide

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levitatingbiscuits · 4 years ago

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what about codywan treasure hunters as a little prompt?

Cody often complained, when sufficiently smashed, that his husband was going to get them both killed one of these days.

(He ended up complaining to his husband about his husband more often than not, considering the level of inebriation required for Cody to complain about anything. Then he’d have to sleep alone when his husband showed his remorse by exiling himself from their bed/tent/shared sleeping bag like some sort of penitent monk. Cody wished they could just have makeup sex like a normal couple.)

Obi-Wan, quite possibly, was going to get them killed today.

“You just had to touch it, didn’t you?!” Cody yelled, dodging a hail of poison darts and leaping neatly over a trip wire.

“It’s an ancient Je’daii holocron, darling, I couldn’t just leave it!” Obi-Wan replied with a rakish grin, artifact in one hand and Cody’s in the other. He gracefully sidestepped a pit trap filled with spikes.

“YES YOU COULD HAVE,” Cody bellowed, manfully resisting the urge to kiss his smug smile off his stupid face.

“And let Ventress find it first and sell it to the highest bidder? No thank you! One of these is equivalent to an entire library! All that knowledge, lost forever to some ignorant trillionaire who’ll use it as a curiosity rather than a treasure trove of historical knowledge? I can’t ethically allow that to happen!”

“All right, all right, cyar’ika, point taken!” Cody replied, pulling Obi-Wan down to avoid the pendulum blade that had nearly cleaved his skull in two. His husband, of course, barely noticed.

“And that blasted Vos helps her do it!” he continued ranting, as if the four of them didn’t regularly go on double dates. “You have no idea how lucky I am to have you now, Cody, the only good thing that reprobate ever did for me was introduce us.”

Kriff, and now he was giving him the eyes, half-soulful and half-coquettish. Cody determinedly digested his butterflies. They’d been married for years, those little bastards should have been long gone by now.

Instead he still felt like he had the first time he met noted academic and famed archaeologist Dr. Kenobi. Vos had been Kenobi’s companion for remote expeditions, but the pair of them just goaded each other into more and more extreme feats of daring until Vos had ended up breaking an ankle and a few ribs when he’d fallen halfway down a mountain. Obi-Wan had insisted on continuing his work even with the wrist he’d broken catching Vos before he tumbled off a cliff, so Vos had gotten into contact with Cody, because survivalists and guides tended to run in the same circles. Cody took one look at the man with a nasty scrape on the side of his head and his arm in a cast cooing over a parasitic worm and was instantly smitten.

“Put the holocron away, at least. We still need to rappel down the temple wall.”

Obi-Wan actually pouted, the ridiculous man, but gently placed it in his bag while Cody jumped from tile to tile in the giant mosaic they had found earlier, careful to keep to the same order as when they’d come in so that they wouldn’t trigger yet more traps.

Soon they were climbing back down the sheer walls of the massive ruins. They must have been even more awe-inspiring during their prime; Cody could make out crumbling statues and carvings in the walls themselves, though he couldn’t recognize what they were meant to represent. His husband might have more luck, but Cody wasn’t going to let him spend the rest of the day in climbing gear clinging to a rock face with the ground a thousand feet below no matter how he tried to talk him into it.

They had only just touched the ground when they were on each other, kissing fiercely in celebration of their continued survival and success. Adrenalin always made Obi-Wan passionate, but Cody would never complain. He really had no leg to stand on. He just groaned deep in his throat when Obi-Wan pushed him against the temple wall and hauled him closer, one hand buried in his sweaty copper hair and the other pressed against the small of his back.

“Professor Kenobi?!” someone squeaked.

“Obi-Wan, are you really gonna make out with your husband now? You’ll traumatize the intern!” someone else said, mock-scandalized.

Obi-Wan broke the kiss, flexing his fingers against Cody’s hips. Cody groaned for a very different reason than before and turned to shoot a glare at Skywalker, Obi-Wan’s annoying pet grad student, who just smirked unrepentantly. The little shit had stopped being intimidated by him ever since he befriended Cody’s brother Rex, who worked as a holovid stuntman but whose true passion was razzing Cody for all he was worth. Behind him hovered Tano, the undergrad unfortunate enough to have Skywalker as a mentor. She was also friends with Rex, though fortunately her mortification over seeing her favorite professor ravishing his husband trumped her shit-stirring tendencies, at least for now.

“Did you find the holocron?” Skywalker was asking.

“We’re not amateurs,” Cody said, voice low and rough. Tano stifled a nervous giggle.

“Great! Dean Palpatine will be thrilled. If you give it to him he said he’ll have it restored on his own dime!”

“I don’t want this to vanish into his private collection like all the other artifacts I haven’t had a chance to examine,” Obi-Wan said tartly, and Cody smothered a snicker at Skywalker’s offended expression. “I find these artifacts to study them, not sell them. It belongs in a museum! Now if you’ll excuse us, I want to visit the river to take a bath. Cody?”

“It’ll be freezing this time of year,” Cody pointed out, but when Obi-Wan set out, leaving a moody Skywalker and a blushing Tano behind, he was right at his husband’s side. Just like always.

#indiana jones au #codywan #my writing #i really need to practice writing kiss scenes #also this is my 1st established relationship!!#glimmerglanger #i cant really picture him just treasure hunting for pleasure so i took inspiration from the obiana jones au!!#are quinajj and codywan swingers in this au? perhaps 8D

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that-was-anticlimactic · 4 years ago

Text

oKAY BUT AVATAR FROZEN AU (ft. Zukka)

I was listening to Frozen on Broadway in the shower and it literally won’t leave my head y’ALL (sorry this is long, but I didn’t know how to do the read more thing because I suck so if anyone knows how, please lemme know!)

Katara: Elsa

Sokka: Anna

Zuko: Kristoff

Aang: Olaf

Azula: Hans

Druk: Sven

The Trolls Are: Iroh, Toph, Suki and Kyoshi Warriors, Mai, Ty Lee, Jet and the Freedom Fighters, maybe Yue idk yet

(Cabbage Man is Oaken)

Okay, so I know Sokka is the older sibling and Katara has Anna’s trust, but Katara is the last Waterbender in the SWT so

idk I’m still working it out since as soon as I got out of the shower I started typing this, but I think Katara and Sokka were a family ya know with Hakoda and Kya and Katara had her bending but the Fire Nation was still like iffy so they didn’t publicize it

Sokka thought it was SO COOL and always wanted to play with her powers ya know? They probably created Aang together, not sure about that yet anyways

Katara hits Sokka with her powers (ice maybe?) on accident and he’s dying, they go to “the trolls” but what imma call White Lotus and Yue is there or she was but had to give herself to the moon, but the moon spirit saves Sokka, has white strip in his hair like Anna, they wipe his memories of Katara’s bending

Katara is sad and scared and terrified so she shuts herself in her room and will not go penguin sledding or fishing or anything with Sokka and now Sokka is sad

Hakoda and Kya are eventually like Katara needs to learn how to control it or just rid of her powers, let’s go to the NWT and see if there is a good chi blocker or a master for Katara to learn from

they die on the ship, probably Fire Nation

(also, the war is still technically going on but also not? Not as intensely as it was in the show, but like, it’s there)

I’m not sure what to do about the chief stuff, so we’ll ignore that for now

It is Sokka or Katara’s coronation, Sokka is excited because he can leave their palace and Katara is not excited because she still doesn’t know how to bend or control it

Sokka runs into Azula and now let’s talk about the Fire Nation for a second

Ozai is still ruling, Ursa is gone, Zuko was banished and Iroh went with him

Ozai did burn Zuko’s face, probably for the same reason, so Iroh took Zuko and they went to the Earth Kingdom and met up with other people who had been hurt by the Fire Nation and they became a family and Zuko eventually leaves and finds an egg and it’s Druk! They become besties but Zuko leaves kind of for the same reasons as in Zuko Alone

Ozai is pretty pissed at the Water Tribes because they’re thriving or something and wants to rule them so he’s like “Azula, go hit on one of the siblings and make them love you and then marry them and I can- I mean, you can control the SWT and NWT”

and she’s like “dope I shall bring destruction onto their land eventually” because poor girl is getting manipulated:(

So, Azula and Sokka run into each other, Azula is a terrible flirt but so is Sokka and they bond over how terrible they both are at human interaction and Sokka is like “yeah after I turned ten, they never let me leave the castle so I have zero friends”

and Azula is mentally like wait I have no friends too:(... but is like “yeah I feel, I’m only the Fire Nation Princess, but it’s a boys only club, ya know? So no one takes me seriously”

and Sokka is like “you... I like you...” and definitely starts crushing and asks her to do an activity and yada yada yada

someone gets crowned, idk who yet

Azula and Sokka spend more time together and Azula is like “wow he is so starved for affection that if I asked him to marry me he’d probably say yes Father what kind of mission is this this is so easy”

so she tries it out and he’s like “SURE” and they tell Katara and she’s just not having it

“Sokka! The Fire Nation killed our parents!”

“Yeah, five years ago--” (or more, idk timeline yet) “--besides, this would be good treaty-wise and politically, ya know?” (so I guess this means Katara would become chief? Idk how that happens but we’ll figure it out)

and Katara is just “... SOKKA you just met this girl. Also, she’s Fire Nation!”

and he’s like “well you aren’t in charge on me so imma do whatever I want”

and Katara is like ahhhhh and he ends up pulling a glove off and she waterbends and everyone is like hbfvrvunyuibtuy wHAT

and Azula is like “ooh so there really is still a waterbender left in the SWT...”

Katara runs away and accidentally freezes everywhere she goes (for purposes of plot convenience, she goes to the Earth Kingdom without knowing it and freezes that too I guess? She’s pretty powerful, y’all

and Sokka is like “I gotta go after her!”

and Azula is mentally lie death mission, that gets him out of the way “sURE! I’ll stay here:)”

so Sokka goes and runs into Zuko and Druk

“Dragons are better than people, Druk, don’t you think that’s right?”

and he sees Sokka struggling to paddle a boat or something, again, don’t have land and stuff figured out here yet

Sokka basically annoys him into helping him

(and Zuko won’t admit it, but he kinda liked Sokka’s vibe and was like I haven’t spoken to a human person in years is it selfish to want this? He’s not disgusted at my scar...”)

Zuko does not tell Sokka that he is a fire bender, he mentions he used to live in the Fire Nation, though

Katara makes maybe not an elaborate ice castle, but she is like “LET IT GOOOOOOO” when she finds open land and just makes it so pretty and guys imagine Katara in an Inuit-style Elsa dress? Wouldn’t that be the most gorgeous thing??

Maybe she misses home so she remakes her village out of ice, maybe if she’s lonely (because Katara really hates being alone but she’ll do it for the good of her people) she’ll make ice sculptures of people from the village like her mom and dad and Sokka

also ya know what? No, I don’t want Katara to be completely alone. She finds Momo trying to hide from the cold and takes him in so it is Katara and Momo

Sokka and Zuko are riding Druk, but he’s tired so they aren’t super high, and Sokka is explaining what happened to Zuko and Zuko starts laughing because “you planned on marrying someone you just met? From the Fire Nation?”

“You’re from the Fire Nation!”

“yeah, it sucks. Why do you think I left? But seriously? That’s the funniest thing I’ve heard in three years!” (because I just decided it has been three years of him alone)

and Sokka doesn’t mention that it’s Azula yet because Zuko was already laughing at him but wait Zuko has a really cute and precious laugh--

they talk a bit and Sokka kind of mentions the strip in his hair and how it happened because he got pneumonia as a child and almost died but the moon spirit saved his lifeand Zuko doesn’t know how the frick to respond so he just “... that’s rough, buddy”

Actually, imma take back something I said earlier, they don’t make Aang, her unleashing her powers shakes the earth or water or something and the iceberg pops up and Zuko and Sokka find it and Sokka is like “Imma touch it”

and Zuko goes “wait no don’t touch i-- you touched it” and Aang pops out and is like “HELLO!”

and they’re like who the frick are you?

and Aang is like “I’m the Avatar, Aang”

and Zuko and Sokka just :0

or maybe Katara and Sokka like created him as a kid or like believed he would come back to save them and that kind of like manifested into what happened? Idk but somehow, and maybe more plot convenience, he knows who Katara is, maybe the monks told him she’d be his waterbending master before he got trapped?

“Katara? you’re looking for her? I’m looking for her too! She’s the most powerful waterbender in the world and I need to learn how to waterbend!”

“Woah cool! You should join us!” says Sokka

and Zuko facepalms because “sOKKA again with the people you just met!”

and Sokka is like “I just met you”

“Fair point”

“besides, you guys are some of the first people I’ve talked to in like 5-8 years!”

and Zuko and Aang get kind of quiet because wow now that Sokka mentions in, that’s super true for him, but also true for the both of them... they’re all lonely

so Aang is like “okay let’s find Katara!” and they talk and stuff on the way and Aang mentions being excited to visit the Fire Nation and see Kuzon and all of his airbender friends and Zuko and Sokka just ??? then it hits them that oh boy he’s been in that iceberg for a long time--

so Zuko tells him and Aang is big sad and goes into the Avatar State or something and idk imma come back to this

plus also more friendship bonding happens and more feelings between Zuko and Sokka happen

they eventually reach Katara and they’re all like wow this is gorgeous

and Aang is about to walk in and stuff and Zuko stops him “maybe Sokka should go first? Since she’s his sister?”

Sokka goes into the village, finds the one that looks like their house / hut / palace, sees Katara and they both start crying and hug each other and Katara goes “I’ve missed you so much”

and Sokka is like “why did you leave? Please come back, I’ll help protect you from the Fire Nation! No one will get to you!”

and Katara is like “that’s not what I’m worried about” and her eyes flicker to the white strand in Sokka’s hair. “I don’t know how to control it and I don’t have a teacher and I’m dangerous.”

“I have some friends who can help you find a teacher! Aang and Zuko!”

Aang hears his name so he runs out and is like “Hi, I’m Aang, the avatar, want a hug? You look sad”

and Katara is like this boy is a sweetie and must be protected at all costs so no hug from em because I hurt those I love:(

and then Aang says “The monks told me about you! It was like a hundred years ago, but they told me Katara would be my waterbending teacher! You’re the most powerful waterbender in the world!”

and she laughs and almost believes him but “No, no I can’t control it. What if I hurt people?”

And Aang is like “we can learn together then!”

and Sokka and Katara talk more, Sokka is like “please come back, we’ll protect you from the Fire Nation and help you find a teacher I need you I miss you” and Katara wants to so badly

but she says no

they talk and Sokka mentions that basically everywhere is frozen and Katara is just ???? and Sokka is like “please, you can unfreeze it and people will see you aren’t a threat!”

and Katara flips out, they argue a bit, she hits him in the heart on accident and screams so Zuko and Aang (who left) run out and see Sokka on the ground and Katara hyperventilating and Zuko helps Sokka up and kind of has to hold him up for a couple minutes and he begs Katara to come with them because she’s his baby sister and he’ll protect her and she’s crying and her hand instinctively touches her mother’s necklace and she tells him no and that if they won’t leave, she’ll make them leave and then Aang and Zuko start begging her too because Zuko just met her but he knows that she’ll play a huge role in stopping the war and that she is incredibly powerful (and also she’s so kind when she isn’t accidentally being dangerous, he thinks-- based off of the stories Sokka had told him and the look on her face after she struck Sokka

Sokka says no and Aang and Zuko stand firm beside him so Katara makes a giant sky bison named Appa or something who chases them out of the village and they all end up falling into the freaking cold water and Sokka helps pull Aang and Zuko out since he’s the best swimmer and we love Zuko but he’s kind of a terrible swimmer

and Zuko goes “thank yo-- what’s with your hair?”

“My hair? We just gout out of the ocean, you should see your hair”

And Aang pipes up with “no, your hair is white”

“Wait it’s what? Does it look bad?”

“... no?” - Zuko

Sokka goes “you hesitated you think it’s baddddd”

and Zuko says “no, no, not like that... it’s because your sister struck you, isn’t it?”

and Sokka thinks and realization kind of dawns on him “I never had pneumonia...” and it hits him and he groans “that’s why she stopped playing with me! We need to go back, I need to talk to her--”

and he falls as he tries to get up

Aang and Zuko share a look and are like “yeah, no, you need help or you’ll actually die again”

Zuko suddenly is like “wait? the moon spirit saved you that one time, right? maybe She can do it again! Come on! I have some friends who can help you!”

while all of that is happening, Azula is planning on assassinating Katara and the people of the SWT and visitors from the rest of the world are freezing so she’s like “I guess I’ll go stop her since she must have killed my fiance”

some others go with her and they find where Katara is hiding out and Azula kills Appa:( and faces Katara with her people

Katara easily get the others out of the way and then it’s her and Azula

“I don’t want to hurt you!” Katara says

Azula puts her hands down and says “I don’t want to either. Just come with us, fox the weather, and we can help you”

“Why should I trust you? Your nation has wanted to kill me for years!”

“mmm fair point”

they fight a bit, Katara ends up getting knocked out and they take her back and lock her up

going back to the trio and Druk, they’re going to the little corner of the Earth Kingdom where the White Lotus is and Sokka’s hair is getting progressively more white and he’s getting more cold and Zuko is starting to panic so he says “I’m going to show you something, but you have to promise not to freak out”

so Sokka nods and Aang is chill with it because he doesn’t hate firebenders like the rest of the world

so Zuko creates a fire and holds it close to Sokka who does indeed freak out and crawls to the other side of the dragon

and Aang is like “wow! That’s so pretty! Can you teach me that? I need a firebending teach too! It was going ti be Kuzon but...”

and Zuko goes to Sokka again and says “I didn’t want you to hate me. I’m not evil or anything like Ozai. You’re freezing, please, let me help you warm up.”

and Sokka is silent then says “I trust you” and Zuko kind of pulls him in and wraps his arms around Sokka to warm him up and Aang looks left out so Sokka tells him to join

and all three are like “wow. This is the most human contact I’ve had in years... it’s nice”

somewhere here I think would be a good time for Sokka to ask about Zuko’s scar and so Zuko tells the story and Sokka and Aang are pissed and ready to kill but before Sokka and piece together that Azula is his sister, they arrive

Zuko is like “hello, Zuko here! But you guys probably knew that, or at least Toph will-- oof!” because Toph runs at him and gives him a super hard hug and suddenly the White Lotus is surrounding him and are like “how are you?” “where’ve you been?” “we missed you!” etc, etc

and Zuko is like “haha I missed you guys too but um, I’m actually here for something else... he helps Aang and Sokka off of Druk and Toph immediately feels the change in their heart rates when Zuko helps Sokka and Sokka leans against Zuko so she goes “you got a boyfriend!”

cue matching looks of horror on the two’s faces and suddenly everyone is interrogating both of them and Zuko is like y’all!!! He needs help! Where’s Iroh?

he is ignored:/

“Zuko looks grumpy and he acts grumpy but really he’s a sweetheart and mushy!” says Ty Lee

“make sure you give him lots of hugs and attention because he will not tell you when he wants it” Suki says

and Zuko’s whole face is red and it’s the funniest thing Sokka has seen and he’s so invested in all of these people and their stories and wants to stay forever but then remembers Katara and Zuko finally is like “IROH!”

Iroh comes and sees Sokka and he’s like welcome back

and like at this point Sokka can barely stand and Zuko is supporting all his weight

and Zuko is like “you helped him when he was younger, please help him now!”

and Iroh is sad “there is nothing I can do, nephew. The moon spirit is generous, but to touch the same thing twice... an act of true love is the only way to fix this”

and Zuko gets sad and says “your fiance”

and Sokka kind of mutters “... yeah... my fiance” because now after spending a week minimum a month max with Zuko, Aang, and Druk, he definitely has feelings for Zuko but he’s confused

and everyone else gets sad and Toph is confused because she can feel their heart rates

but Zuko sucks it up and helps Sokka back onto Druk and they set back for the SWT and all Sokka is thinking is for Katara for Katara for Katara for Katara... was she right? Maybe I was too fast with Azula... but we connected and she wanted to talk to me and... for Katara for Katara...

so Katara is locked up and Azula is like “this would have been fine if you did not put up a struggle. If you surrendered peacefully we would not have to resort to this”

and then leaves because she hears that Sokka is back and Katara is like “I’m a monster, but so is Azula and I need to find Sokka and apologize and fix everything I’ve done, even if I die” so she escapes because Katara is cool like that

Zuko and Azula see each other and it’s awkward, but she sees Sokka in his arms and she realizes that he didn’t die and her idiot brother helped him they make eye contact and Zuko can kind of tell what her plan is in her eyes but Azula feigns worry for Sokka and grabs him from Zuko’s arms before he can stop her and Sokka is like “Azula...” and she’s pretending and stuff and then she sees Aang and her eyes widen at his tattoos and Zuko shoves Aang behind him and says “You aren’t taking the avatar to Father. Just save Sokka, he doesn’t have much time left”

her eyes linger on Aang with interest but she turns and leaves and sets Sokka down in a room and Sokka explains it and tries kissing her but she just laughs and is like “oh, if only there was someone out there who loved you” and in his hazy and near death mind, Sokka understands it all because he may be naive, but he’s clever

“You’re Zuko’s sister”

“I am. You really were so trusting and naive to fall in love with the first person you see.”

“I’m sorry”

“What?”

“Zuko told me about your father... I’m sorry he’s manipulating you.”

and Azula shrieks, lights her hands on fire and is just barely able to stop herself from burning him, makes sure the fire in the room dies, mentions killing Katara and Zuko and capturing Aang, then locks Sokka in the room

and Sokka is crying because he should have listened to Katara and he just wants her to be okay and he can barely move, he can’t do anything to protect her from problems he caused and Aang is going to get hurt and he misses Zuko

and Zuko misses Sokka and Aang is like “okay, something’s up”

Zuko tells him about how Azula is his sister and he doesn’t trust her and that he thinks he loves Sokka, or has feelings for him at least

Aang goes “do you think Azula really loves Sokka?”

“... no”

“then we need to turn around. Druk!”

Azula tells everyone Sokka died because of Katara and that they nee to kill her and his last words were marriage vows

the door handle rattles and Aang comes in and Sokka shakes his head and he’s crying and says “you need to get out of here, she’s gonna kill you”

and Aang is shaking his head and saying “no, don’t worry! Zuko is here and he’s on his way! It’s storming really bad outside right now and he’s fighting off some guards, but he came back for you” and Aang helps Sokka up and out of the room but guards see them and Aang stays behind to fight them

Katara stumbled upon Azula as she tries escaping and they start fighting, kind of like the Agni Kai fight and it’s really epic and cool and stuff and then Azula says something like “stop fooling around and wasting everyone’s time. I am now the ruler of the SWT and I am ordering you to stand down!”

and Katara goes “ruler... where is Sokka?”

“Sokka? Oh, he returned weak and cold. His heart was frozen. Your brother is dead because of you”

and Katara falls to her knees and cries and Azula is like “ha weakness time to kill”

and Sokka sees Zuko and he’s “running” to him but then sees Katara and Azula about to kill her and jumps in front of her despite Zuko’s pleas and Sokka is frozen and when Katara looks up and sees what happened, she loses control and freezes Azula like she did in the Agni Kai and the storm dies down and Zuko and Aang run to her and she’s clinging to Sokka and crying and so is Zuko and then sibling love and he comes back

Zuko is like “love. It doesn’t have to be a kiss.”

and they hug and Sokka is back to his normal self except his hair is still white maybe, but he introduces Katara to Zuko and Aang formally and they all hug and then the White Lotus comes and Toph and Suki and Mai and Jet are all sad because they missed the fight but are happy that Sokka’s okay and Azula is still kind of there and idk what they do with her, I’ll come back to that, actually, maybe Azula manages to escape

but so it would end kind of ambiguously because Ozai is still there and the SWT is untrusting of Katara still so they have to flee maybe and they return to the White Lotus hide out and Zuko and Sokka have a moment where they are like “hey I think I like you”

then Sokka and Katara have a great sibling moment

and that’s how it ends

okay wow that was long and took an hour and a half to type but y’all this would NOT leave my head!!!! I feel like this doesn’t have enough Katara in it, so know that if I actually made this a thing, there would be a lot more Katara and more sibling moments and Zuko and Aang and White Lotus and stuff but uhhh yeah idk if this has been done before but it was living in my mind rent free (p.s. Mai and Ty Lee do have a history with Azula in this AU and there would be an Azula redemption at some point)

if anyone has any thoughts or feelings or anything to add, please do:) I wasn’t sure if I should make Sokka or Katara Elsa, but I went with Katara because she had the powers and Zukka happening worked better with Sokka as Anna, idk

#avatar the last airbender #frozen au #sokka #avatar sokka #katara #zuko #aang #toph #suki #iroh #azula #zukka #i want to write this so badly #seriously #i might cave sometime #yallllllllll i love this too much #ywikal #you’re what i know about love

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stupidsexyfandom · 4 years ago

Text

Sed Libera Nos A Malo

@helsa-summer-event

Rated T // Drama, Medieval AU

Brother Hans finds something suspicious about the abbey’s newest novice.

Written for Prompt #6 of Helsa Summer: Letting off steam.

They were in the midst of the coldest winter anyone could remember. There were whispers in the village that this was Queen Elsa’s doing. Perhaps, angry at being driven from her home, she had laid a curse on the land. This speculation was frowned upon inside the abbey. There they condemned talk of magic as heresy. If there was anything unnatural about this winter, they said, it was a sign from God. A sign of what, they did not say.

Hans did not hold these murmurings in high regard. Magic was the stuff of myths and fairy stories, and he very much doubted that one girl held the power to plunge the country into a deep freeze. At this point, he doubted whether Queen Elsa was even still alive. He knew her parents had been slaughtered early in this conflict when his father, King Harald of the Southern Isles, had decided that Arendelle rightfully belonged to him. She had been hastily crowned, but she and her sister had disappeared soon afterward. Her supporters claimed the queen and princess had fled to Corona to gather an army, but Hans was not so sure. The Southern Isles’ attempted invasion was not popular among the Arendellian nobles, and he suspected their cause needed a figurehead.

He held the Church’s explanation in equally low esteem, despite being destined to take holy orders himself. The Church had thrown their weight behind King Harald’s claim to the throne, likely persuaded by the Southern Isles’ ample coffers. If this frigid weather were a sign of anything (although he was sure it was not), it might be God indicating that they had backed the wrong side.

But Hans had not come to the abbey because he felt called to God. His father had followed the cardinal rule of succession: an heir for the crown and a spare for the priesthood. But then there had been another spare and then another. Soon, the king had thirteen sons, each competing for wealth and influence. Several had climbed their way through the Church’s ranks, and several others had been promised lands throughout the Southern Isles and Arendelle. Hans was the last, and it was decided that he was not worthy of becoming a bishop or cardinal, or even a priest. He was relegated to being a simple monk.

Not even a full monk, at that, he thought with only a tinge of bitterness. He was still only a novice, and he thought it would be a long time before he took his final vows. For now, he was at the bottom of the pecking order, just as he had been at home. At least his position assisting the herbalist gave him a measure of freedom not accorded to the other novices. The work was varied and stimulating, and his superior, though a keen man, was not as strict as some of the other brothers. This left Hans able to move around the abbey with some degree of autonomy.

He knew the true reason his father had sent him to a monastery in Arendelle, aside from wanting to be rid of him. The king’s forces were moving through the country, laying siege to any towns which would not submit. But opposition was fierce, and the people had fought back with tooth and nail at every opportunity. The Southern Isles’ progress had been slower than King Harald would like to admit. Hans was not considered good enough for a place at court, but he could certainly feed the king information from behind enemy lines. He had not yet been called upon, but he knew the day would come. He did not relish the prospect. After all, what loyalty did he owe his father?

So he toiled away behind the monastery walls day after day. After so much time, he had become used to the routine of prayer and solitude. It was almost enough to make him a believer. Although it was not the life he would have chosen, he had accepted the path that was his to walk. Perhaps, if he were lucky, he would someday reach the rank of prior, or even abbot.

This morning was colder than most. Hans stood in the abbey stable, breaking the ice so the horses could have fresh water. He had always had a way with horses, and he was lucky that his tasks allowed him to work with them. Some of the other novices were being loudly berated in the courtyard. Not only had they spoken out of turn, but they had been gossiping about the Snow Queen, as she was called in the village. Hans was grateful to be hidden inside a stall. He was certain their odious superior would have found a way to include him in the punishment, despite his innocence in the matter. The loathing he harbored for that man was deeply un-Christian.

His musings on whether murder was really a sin if the victim was extremely annoying were interrupted by the sound of hoofbeats. The novices and their lecturer scattered as Hans peered into the courtyard. Two horses burst into the courtyard, a black stallion of nearly eighteen hands, and a smaller gray that looked to have Arabian blood. A man dismounted from the first and a smaller figure, either a youth or a woman, from the second. The prior came out to meet them. He did not look happy to see them, but then again, he always looked like that. Hans could not hear what they were saying. When he heard footsteps approaching the stable, he hastened to look busy. But only the prior appeared.

“Brother Hans, are you in there?” Hans stepped out of the stall. The prior beckoned, and Hans followed him out into the courtyard. He was eager to get a closer look at such fine animals, even if it meant stepping out into the cold. The man had already started toward the abbey doors, but the other rider stood holding the horses. Ah, so it was a youth.

“Elias, this is Brother Hans,” said the prior, “He is one of your fellow novices.” Hans nodded in acknowledgement, appraising his new brother. Elias was extremely slight, with fair hair and round blue eyes. His face had not yet lost any of the softness of childhood. He seemed on edge despite the safety of the abbey. There was something off about him that Hans could not place.

“Brother Hans, take these horses to the stable and see that they are fed and watered. Boy, come with me.”

“Right away, Brother Prior,” said Hans, taking the reins. His attention immediately shifted to his new task. The horses must be tired and in need of hay. He could tell that they must have galloped a great distance from the way the steam rose from their sweaty flanks. That was it! As he walked toward the stables, he exhaled softly to test his theory. Steam rose from his lips into the chilly air.

He turned back to look at the abbey doors where the prior, Elias, and the other man were preparing to enter. Sure enough, the man and the prior both breathed out condensation when they spoke. But the air in front of Elias was perfectly clear. His lips emitted no such steam.

Over the next several weeks, Hans began to forget his strange realization. Elias seemed to integrate into monastic life easily. There still seemed something odd about him, but spending so much time together had made his quirks part of the status quo. He was quiet and easily startled, but he was also a hard worker who never caused trouble. He did nothing else to call attention to himself.

Hans had been seeing a lot of him because he was also assigned to work under the monastery’s herbalist. The unusually cold winter had brought with it famine and disease. The infirmary was full to capacity, creating more work than two people could handle. They were grateful for the extra set of hands. Brother Elias applied himself to the work with zeal. He seemed to have a particular talent for soothing fevered patients. Hans began to think himself silly for having any doubts about his fellow novice.

But a chance incident brought all his doubts, and many new ones, roaring back with a vengeance. The herbalist was away for several days tending to a patient far from the abbey. Hans and Brother Elias were managing well enough to distribute balms and poultices to their regular patients. Although they lacked expertise, they were both quick studies and worked well together.

Hans had been working in the infirmary when he had realized they were running low on a few supplies. He decided to walk down to the herbalist’s shed to replenish them. He opened the door without knocking, assuming nobody to be inside. Then came the sound of shattering glass. Looking inside, he saw Brother Elias kneeling on the floor, attempting to pick up shards of a vial. In his characteristic jumpiness, he had smashed the bottle in his hand when the door had opened unexpectedly. The mess was awful, but Hans was more concerned about the blood streaming from his palm.

“Leave it,” he said, picking his way across the floor to avoid the broken glass, “Let me have a look at that hand.” Brother Elias ignored the directive, continuing his vain efforts to clear up the mess.

“Don’t worry, it’s not that bad. I can take care of it myself.” But Hans could see that the cut ran deep. He knew a wound like that could cause serious trouble if left unattended. Men had survived worse, but they had also died from much less.

“Not with one hand you can’t. It’s too deep.”

“Really, I’m fine.” Hans carefully crouched down. He could not understand why Brother Elias was so intent on refusing his help. But as he watched, he could see the boy was growing frustrated. Finally, he presented his hand for Hans to examine.

Hans gave no outward sign that anything was amiss when he took Brother Elias’s hand. He cleaned and treated the wound with as much care and attention as he would give any patient. But in the back of his mind, he felt something was very wrong. Brother Elias’s flesh was completely frozen. This went beyond the feeling of someone who had been out in the elements for hours. This was the chill of death.

That night at Compline, Hans prayed. This should not have been unusual, for all the monks spent several hours a day in prayer. But this night was unique for Hans in that he meant it. He knew not what he had stumbled upon, but he had to hope God would protect and guide him through it. In stories, demons were always red hot like the fire and brimstone whence they came. But what if that was wrong? What if, in order to withstand the licking flames of hellfire, demons were cold as ice?

Hans thought of reporting what he had seen, but the idea was unappealing. In truth, he found the monk who oversaw the novices so obnoxious that he would rather risk his immortal soul than talk to him unnecessarily. He wished desperately that his mentor were there. He knew the herbalist would have known what to do. But he was away from the abbey and would be for several days yet. Hans did not know if this would keep until then.

He could barely focus on his work in the infirmary the next day. His mind raced with thoughts of angels and demons, each twisting into the other until he could no longer tell them apart. He paid only the slightest attention when a fevered patient was brought in. There had been many cases like his in this hellish winter, and Hans set about mixing the preparation the herbalist had found was most effective. Brother Elias sat at the side of the fevered man, soothing him through his delirium.

As he watched, Brother Elias put one hand on the ill man’s forehead and the other at his neck. His fevered thrashing stilled, and he seemed almost at peace. Hans thought back to holding that hand in his own, cold and corpse-like and covered in blood. How unnatural the cold had felt then. But here, it had been a tool of salvation, bringing down the man’s body temperature. Would a demon use its unholy power to save lives? He very much doubted it. He found he could no longer stomach the idea of giving Brother Elias up to the authorities. Perhaps he would continue on as normal until the herbalist returned. He knew the older man would come up with a plan as kind as it was wise.

It turned out there was no need to wait for his mentor’s return. All would be revealed well before then.

Hans and Brother Elias were spending the night working in the shed, distilling herbs over a flame that must burn for countless hours. Exempt from Matins for the night because of their work, they had decided to sleep in shifts. Hans was surprised by how easy it was to go on working together as if nothing had happened. He had volunteered to take the first watch, tending to the fire while Brother Elias slept on the straw palette.

At first, all was well. Brother Elias retired, and Hans sat staring idly into the flames. Eventually he had trouble keeping his eyes open, slipping into a stupor. He only became alert when he felt something cold touch his face. Then for a moment he thought he must be dreaming. Snow seemed to be falling inside the herbalist’s shed. He turned to see Brother Elias thrashing in his sleep, caught in the throes of some nightmare. Hans attempted to awaken him, but the dream’s grip was too powerful.

In his sleep he began to call, “Anna! Anna! No! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” in that clear, youthful voice. Hans wondered who Anna was. Brother Elias seemed too young to have such passion for a lover. In any case, the pain in his voice seemed to point to a more tragic tale. Hans had little time for contemplation, for the snow began to fall thicker and faster. An icy wind threatened to extinguish the flame necessary for their task.

“My fault! It’s all my fault! No! Please!” At his wit’s end, Hans reached out and shook Brother Elias violently. His eyes snapped open and frost crawled up his arms, coating his habit and Hans’ alike. Hans broke away, staring at the frozen fabric in terror. The first thought through his mind was ‘begone accursed demon’, followed by several swears. But he mastered himself quickly. He had already established that Brother Elias could not be a demon, so what else was left?

“You… wield power over ice and snow?” Brother Elias stared at him like a cornered animal, round blue eyes wide with terror.

Finally, he murmured, “I was born like this.”

“Born like this?” said Hans slowly, “I can think of only one other said to have been born with this power.” He could feel his mind turning like the machinery of a mill wheel. To his surprise, Brother Elias barked a laugh.

“You know one of my secrets. You may as well know all. Soon it will not matter. I was once Queen Elsa of Arendelle.” From the hood of her habit, she revealed a que of fair hair. Hans gaped in shock. It seemed at once so unlikely and so obvious. Looking at her face, he could see now the femininity that he had mistaken for youth. He was so entranced that he nearly missed her next sentence.

“I know your secret as well, Prince Hans of the Southern Isles. My advisors told me Harald’s men would be everywhere. I knew what to look for.”

“That title is no longer mine,” he said, his mouth suddenly dry, “I renounced it when I came to the abbey.”

“Ah. It is a shame, then, that I shall still have to kill you for it.” She produced a dagger from under her habit and advanced toward him. Although she had him in her power, he could see fear in her eyes.

“Wait!” he cried, “I have no intention of revealing your secret!” She stopped short, although her dagger was still raised.

“Oh? Why should I believe you?”

“I knew something was wrong from the very first day you came here, but still I said nothing.”

“How did you know?”

“Your breath was cold. No steam in the winter air.” She considered him for a moment. Then she lowered her dagger. Hans thought he glimpsed relief in her eyes.

“I must go tonight. I had hoped to lay low until the spring, but this place is no longer safe for me. It is a shame that I could not send word ahead of time, but it cannot be helped now.” She turned as if to walk out the door at that moment.

“Wait!” he said again, “What’s changed? I will not breath a word of your secret, and nobody else knows. Please, at least wait until the herbalist returns. He is a good and wise man, and I know he will advise you rightly.” He knew she saw the sense in his words. Silently, she sat down on the palette. Together they stared into the fire. Hans had a feeling neither of them would sleep tonight.

For the next few days, things returned to almost normal. The harsh cold showed no signs of abating as they continued their work in the infirmary. Elsa was as kind and patient as she had been when she was Brother Elias, calming their patients with her cooling touch. Hans continued to mix herbs as his mentor had taught him. In a way, they were more in sync in their work than they had ever been. Perhaps their newfound understanding had allowed them to communicate better.

Has would be lying if he said the tenor of their interactions had not changed slightly. How could he go on as he had, knowing that his companion was not a scrawny youth but a beautiful woman? He found himself thinking things that would make his confessor’s hair curl. Maybe I was wrong, he thought wryly, and she really is a demon sent to tempt me, specifically?

But he had other reasons for avoiding the confessional, not least of which was his dislike for the novices’ confessor. He could not risk anyone learning their secret, especially a busybody such as him. And he could not bring himself to lie before God. If he were to be struck down and be sent to Hell for dying without absolution, so be it. It would be worth it to protect her.

Their newfound peace was to be short-lived. Hans was at the riverbank fetching water when he spied a familiar horse. He would know that bay anywhere, and he knew its rider could not be far away. Before he could turn around, he felt a blade at his throat.

“Hello, dear brother,” came a voice.

“Sweyn.” His oldest brother and his father’s favorite. The King would send him on any business he could not attend to himself.

“Now, now, what kind of a greeting is that for your future king?” He removed the blade and spun Hans around to face him.

“What do you want?” he ground out, “I take it this is not a social call.”

“Good guess, little brother. Father’s troops are three days march from here. He’s heard rumors that the Snow Queen is in these parts. He wants to know if they are true.”

“How should I know? I’m cooped up in that monastery all the time. I haven’t seen a woman for weeks. And even if I had seen her, why should I help Father? He’s the one who sent me to this place to rot.” Sweyn smiled a toothy grin.

“Because if you don’t, I will kill you and dump your body through that hole in the ice. And if you do, Father will carve out some of Arendelle just for you. I’m sure we can find some land for little Hans.” The offer was tempting. All his life, he had dreamed of being somebody important, of having something that was just his. If he had lands of his own, he could realize that dream. But as he considered, he realized he could not trust anything Sweyn said. This was the man who had once claimed to see a comet and then tried to push him out of a third-floor window. Hans had been lucky to be able seize a shutter to prevent the fall. He hoped a similar lifeline would come to him now.

“I cannot help you. Like I said, I haven’t seen a woman in weeks.” If there was one thing Hans knew, it was how to lie.

“Surely you must have heard some talk?”

“Gossip is strictly forbidden for monks. We are punished harshly for breaking silence. I know nothing.”

“Some spy you turned out to be. Even here you cannot escape your penchant for failure.” Hans did not let the words rile him.

“If you want my opinion, the queen and the princess are both dead and have been for a long time.” His brother snorted.

“Wrong as usual. I know for a fact that the princess is in Corona. She waits there for her sister as she raises an army. That is why we must strike fast.” Hans was surprised his brother would admit to feeling any pressure from the princess of Arendelle.

“See, you know more than I do.” Sweyn was suspicious by nature, but Hans could tell that he believed him.

“It is a pity you speak the truth, brother. I would have so loved to leave your body under the ice. Perhaps I still shall. But no, father will want an inside man when he lays siege to the city. Such a pity, but there will always be another opportunity.” It spoke to their relationship that these death threats neither shocked nor upset Hans. He knew his brother would not hesitate to make good on them, but he also knew his father would never allow Sweyn off the leash like that. Not while he was still alive, at least.

“Goodbye, Sweyn.” And like that, his brother had vanished, melting back into the barren forest.

He met Elsa in the stables, where he was certain they would not be overheard.

“My father’s troops are only a few days march away from here. We must flee tonight.”

“We are not going to do anything. I will leave on my own.” Hans could not believe his ears.

“Are you insane? It’s much too dangerous for you to travel alone. The roads are a lawless place, and anything could happen.”

“You forget, Brother Hans, that I have a unique weapon in my arsenal. Any who tried to cross me would find himself much the worse for it. No, I will not let you leave behind your vows for my sake.”

“Forget my vows!” said Hans, wishing he could use stronger language, “I did not choose this life of my own free will. I would gladly abandon it to travel with you to Corona.” He would gladly travel with her for as long as she would let him. Elsa was silent for a long moment.

“Very well. It seems you have made up your mind already. I will send word ahead to ready a ship for us.”

“How?” As far as Hans knew, Elsa had no contact with anyone outside the abbey.

“I have my ways. You must only concern yourself with readying the horses.”

They sneaked out directly after Compline. With any luck, they would not be missed until Matins, and a search party would not be sent until the next morning. Hans led them to an abandoned barn near a field where they used to gather herbs. They could wait there until true nightfall when they could travel on the roads more covertly.

In the gathering darkness, he asked the question that had been on his mind for the last week: “Were you dreaming about your sister?”

“Hm?”

“That night in the herb shed. You called out for Anna. It must have been a pretty unpleasant dream.” He could hear her shifting her weight uncomfortably, and he thought maybe he shouldn’t have asked.

At last, she said, “I was dreaming about the night our parents died. The two of us managed to escape from the castle together, but we were separated in the commotion. We were being attacked from all sides. I tried to use my ice to protect us, but I’ve never had very good control over it. It was all I could do to hold them off while Anna fled. I don’t know what happened to her after that. If I could have just made a stable barrier, we could have fled together. I could have continued to protect her. As it stands, she’s probably dead because of me.” He could hear that she was trying not to cry and probably failing. He reached out to wrap an arm around her, surprised when she did not pull away.

“The princess is not dead. According to my brother, she’s waiting for you in Corona with an army.”

“What?” Elsa sniffed, “Do you believe him?”

“Not as a rule, no. But he would have no reason to lie about that particular fact, especially because it makes my father look bad.”

“That’s… wonderful!” said Elsa, still sounding slightly shocked, “I can’t believe—” But her elation was cut short when they heard the snap of a branch outside. Hans was immediately on his guard. He hoped it was not someone from the abbey, or worse, the sheriff. Would he be able to kill if that were what it came down to? Yes, he decided, he would. He hoped his swordsmanship had not suffered too much from lack of practice in the abbey.

“Brother Hans?” called a voice, and Hans immediately relaxed.

“Brother!” he shouted, “In here!” A silhouette appeared in the doorway and he felt Elsa tense next to him. But the light of the lantern he carried soon identified him as the herbalist.

“Is the queen with you?”

“How did he know?” hissed Elsa in his ear. Hans wanted to reply that he somehow knew everything, but the older man beat him to it.

“I knew from the first that you were not a young man. No one but a monk who had spent his whole life cloistered away from women would ever believe your disguise. As for the other, did you think I would not notice the way the oil bottles froze when you touched them? God has given you a rare gift, your Majesty. I hope you will someday grow to love it.”

“Thank you,” Elsa spluttered. The herbalist turned to Hans.

“And you will be her steward on the journey to Corona? I trust you will not take advantage of your role.”

“Of course not. But her Majesty has little need for a steward. She has power enough to foil any who might wish to harm her.”

“Very good, very good.”

“You’re not going to turn us in?” asked Elsa, sounding slightly incredulous.

“The Church may have chosen to support King Harald, but I myself prefer to remain neutral. They have not missed you yet at the abbey. In the morning, the sheriff may receive information that you are making a break for the North Sea. The road to the southern ports should be clear at least until then.”

“How can we ever thank you?” said Elsa. The monk smiled.

“The best thanks you can give me is to live safely and well.”

Night had truly fallen. They led the horses out of the barn and mounted near the fence. Hans relished the feeling of riding again. He had missed it after all this time. The herbalist turned to say goodbye. Suddenly Hans felt a wave of sorrow wash over him, for the loss of the abbey and his vows and all the other things he had thought he never cared about before.

“Brother,” he called, “I’m sorry to be leaving you. I know the oath is supposed to be for life.”

“The purpose of the novitiate period is to determine one’s suitability for monastic life. Clearly you are destined for other things. Go in peace, my children.”

They waved goodbye to the herbalist and set off on the southbound road. As they road through the wood, Hans felt freer than he ever had in his life. Within a day, they would be at the sea. After that, he knew not what lay in store.

When they reached a crossroad, Elsa called to him, “Which way, Brother Hans?”

Indicating the path, he said, “I don’t think you have to call me ‘Brother Hans’ anymore.”

“Oh, what should I call you, then? Have you decided to go back to your old title?”

“No, just ‘Hans.’ ‘Hans’ is fine.”

“All right then, Hans.” He felt a little thrill at the way she said it.

As they rode through the night, Hans found himself imagining his future. He could see Elsa once again on the throne of Arendelle, himself a fixture at her side. Maybe someday, she could even grow to love him. Or perhaps that was just a fantasy. But whatever the future held, he knew his father would rue the day he had sent his youngest son to an abbey in Arendelle. Hans, on the other hand, had never been more grateful for anything in his life.

***

Author’s Note: I heard the Helsa fandom has a thing about priests, so I... wrote something totally unsexy about monks instead? Truly the fanfiction equivalent of when you order a Coke and the waitress asks, “Is Pepsi okay?”

Any fans of Brother Cadfael will notice quite a few Easter eggs sprinkled throughout. (And by Easter eggs I mean blatant plagiarism.) I considered cutting out some of the world-building of how Frozen maps onto The Anarchy, but I left it in because I liked it. It’s my sleepover, and I get to choose the movie! And hey, it worked for Victor Hugo.

I can’t express how much I appreciate my readers and the response you’ve given me! Enjoy! <3

#helsa #helsasummerevent #helsasummerevent2020 #frozen #hans #elsa #cadfael references #medieval au #fanfic

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quepasta · 4 years ago

Text

A Warm Breath from the Mountains - Chapter 2

Zelda and Link watching the Aurora Borealis - commissioned from @/rutisfree on twitter

Authors: Quepasta (I write Zelda’s POV) and @freshbreezesworld (who writes Link’s Pov)

You can also find this fic on AO3 here

Chapter Summary: A romantic chapter in the Hebra mountains, where Link watches with Zelda the Aurora Borealis shining upon the mountains. Zelda finds out more about his life after the loss of all of his memories.

Carefully, I pulled my arm away and sat up. I had to massage and shake my arm to get the blood flowing, but I didn’t mind. As long as it didn’t kill me, the sarcastic thought occurred to me.

I jumped out the window and landed noiselessly on the grassy ground that surrounded the guest cottage and grabbed a stalk, climbed back in over the same window and sat down cross-legged in front of Zelda’s face. One last time I examined her contented sleeping face, which she always had when I slept next to her. Then I took the stalk and tickled her nose and ears. Hectically she tore her eyes open and patted her body and face with her hands in panic. I let out a laugh and almost toppled off the bed to see her like that. She noticed my reaction and stopped abruptly and just looked at me questioningly “Link, what have you done now!”

Again I snorted, this time it was her confused look. I tried to gasp for breath and at the same time explain to her what I had done, which proved to be a challenge for me. “Link!”

"Don’t worry Zelda! I only tried to wake you up. “

"apparently you did. Great job. And never do this again, whatever it was.“ Now she was annoyed and I nearly lost it again but I needed to focus.

"Anyways. Today starts your first lesson on how to cook. We have to gather some ingredients from the Hebra mountains, so let’s get started, because the day will pass before we even reached the stables.“

Slowly I realized I was staring at her for too long and as a result she blushed. “Do you like my new outfit that much?” she asked curiously.

Slowly and elegantly, she stepped down the stairs while I couldn’t get out of my staring even when she stood right in front of me.

“Zelda… You… You look like a goddess.” I said without thinking twice. As I realized what I said, my eyes widened and became nervous. ‘How did I let this happen?’

“I-“ I was about to start to say, but Zelda interrupted me before I could finish the sentence.

“Everything my princess desires,” I finally replied.

Even though I had only addressed her by her title, it slowly dawned on me how ambiguous it sounded, and I couldn’t help but smile. Zelda giggled adorable in response. I scratched the back of my head, which I always did when I messed up things.

"Let’s get to the stables before it gets dark. We will need our horses in the deep snow to move faster. After that, we’ll let them rest near our campfire so they won’t freeze.“ I finally said leading her the way.

Zelda nodded in agreement and broke away from me. We then walked across the bridges in comfortable silence, admiring the majestic view, until we arrived at the stables.

"Link, why did you name your horse Altay? I’ve never heard that name before,” Zelda asked as I picked up our horses.

I had captured and tamed a direct descendant of her favourite horse, before the battle against Ganon, and held the white proud mare by her reins so that Zelda could pet and caress her in peace.

“An old man I once met on my journey told me about a warlike people who were unbeatable on their horses. They called themselves the Altay Warriors, after a mountain of their ancestors and deities. I don’t know what happened to these warriors, but I still found the story impressive. When I found my buddy, here beside me,” I lovingly stroked my horse’s mouth as I continued, “I knew he was just as tough as those warriors and gave him that name. He loves it when I call him by his name.” I smiled and helped Zelda onto her horse, grabbing her hip and hoisting her onto the saddle with ease. I loved those tiny touches and the way she smiled happily as I did so.

“Thank you Link, a gentleman as always.” She said and gave me the intriguing look again.

I winked at her and turned to my horse and mounted the saddle. We had both opted for the ‘Travelling Saddle’ as it offered more storage space.

“So, Link will you tell me now, where we’re heading? You didn’t tell me more than that we would camp in the Hebra mountains.” She asked as we rode our horses in a slow walk.

“You will see, when we’re there, Princess.”

“Link that’s not fair, I want you to tell me where we will go. I want to be prepared.”

“Prepared for what? You won’t need to do anything but study the flora around us.” I said as I spurred my horse on.

At a trot we rode past the felled trees as the cool wind blew through the long stalks of grass.

The group of trees in front of us was often filled with Oktoroks, so I kept my eyes open, but we had been spared this time. I breathed a sigh of relief when we reached the huge rock face to our left.

“I will think about it, princess,” I said and immediately saw a glimpse of sadness in her eyes. She turned her head away and sighed frustrated.

‘As if I could ever refuse her wishes.’

“Link, there’s another shrine! And it’s glowing blue too! Link! Link! Let’s explore the shrine!”

“That’s the Bareeda Naag shrine I entered a while ago. That’s probably why it glows blue instead of orange, since I completed the trial inside.”

Eyes dilated like those of an eagle, stared at me in shock.

As we trotted on, I kept an eye on the surrounding area, knowing that a camp of monsters was hiding behind the rock face.

“The shrines you wanted to explore 100 years ago turned out to be trials for the hero with the mastersword. They served to restore my original strength and endurance. Ancient, mummified monks waited for me in these shrines and gave me different tests. Which amazes me though, because these shrines were created 10 thousand years ago, with the sole purpose of helping me. How could the ancient Sheikah have known this? But if they knew about our miserable fate, why didn’t they take action against it? So many questions ran through my mind as I travelled through Hyrule with no memory.”

I stared at the pommel of his saddle as I moved my hip to the rhythm of Altay. Absentmindedly, I stroked through the spiky Mohawk mane.

I only realised I was lost in thought when Zelda placed a hand on my shoulder, snapping me out of my hazy memories of the devastation.

“Link, why don’t you tell me what you saw in the shrine? What was that trial you had to pass?”

Grateful for the distraction, I gave her a smile.

“Activating the shrine first was a challenge in itself,” we rode past the ruins that surrounded the shrine as I continued, “Laissa, the wife of Kass the poet, sang me an ancient Rito song that contained the solution to the challenge. I quickly found out that through the heart-shaped hole in the steep rock in Rito village, the sun had to shine on an illuminating pedestal and had to be shot with a fire arrow. Shortly thereafter, a shrine rose up from between those ruins and cleared the way for me to take the next test. In the shrine, with the help of my bomb module, I catapulted a huge stone ball at a huge target that was blocked by crumbling stones and floating pedestals that moved back and forth to make my job more difficult. I only had to shoot twice, once to pulverise the stones and a second time to fire at the target at the right moment. It was admittedly one of the easier tests I had to complete.” As I told her more and more, her eyes lit up with fascination, but then I remembered that I hadn’t even introduced her to Kass, let alone Teba, the Rito’s bravest warrior. The thought of Kass led me to remember the final verses of his teacher’s completed ballad.

“Link are you all right? You looked very nervous and troubled for a moment.”

“I’m fine. I just remembered one of the freaky trials.”

I decided to withhold Kass’ ballad from her for the time being, as I wasn’t sure if it was true. I just couldn’t imagine Zelda seeing me as more than her best friend.

“Do you want to tell me about it? You went through so much before you came to rescue me, and yet I can only begin to comprehend what you’ve been through.”

A spark of admiration flitted across her face, but just as I was about to begin to tell, I harkened and halted abruptly.

Puzzled, Zelda stared at me, but before she could ride past me, I grabbed the reins of Himawari, Zelda’s mare, and slowed her down. She neighed loudly in fright, but I managed to shush her with my “Ho! Ho. Hoa!” to calm her down.

Altay sensed danger nearby and flared his nostrils. Nervously, he shook his head and exhaled loudly. He was ready to face the danger.

I heard only the deafening snore of a Hinox, but I knew that if Altay reacted in such a way, there were Yiga nearby who could appear out of nowhere.

I could not hesitate for long, made up my mind quickly.

With my right arm I grabbed Zelda by her waist and dragged her from the saddle onto my lap, slapping Himawari on the back and we galloped as fast as Altay could.

Zelda cried out, constricted in my bent-over stance to brave the wind. I could hear a diabolic laugher, far behind us. I pushed Altay to run faster and quicker.

“Hold on tight!”, I yelled against the wind.

Himawari galloped ahead of us, but Altay quickly caught up with her and sprinted past. We had to get away quickly, far away from any lurking danger.

“HYAH!”, I yelled and spurred Altay and Himawari on.

I could hear Altay’s powerful lungs quivering with joy. I heard every breath as his hooves pawed into the ground. I felt every muscle he moved.

Zelda clung tighter to me as she let out a suppressed squeal.

“Ho! Ho!”, I shouted to calm Altay down.

When Himawari reached us, I released my reins, stretched out my arm and grabbed Himawari’s reins as she charged towards us. I concentrated, tensing my leg muscles to sit firmly in the saddle, and pulled my arm towards me with all my might to intercept Himawari’s momentum. I pulled hard on her reins, keeping Altay under control, and pushed Zelda onto my lap until Himawari came skidding to a halt.

I exhaled with relief and let go of the mare’s reins. I relaxed my grip around Zelda’s waist so that she could relax. Her legs hung off the side of my lap and her hip was pressed painfully tight against the pommel of my saddle.

“Forgive me Princess, I had to get us away from there as quickly as possible as I sensed through Altay that this place held some danger. I hope I didn’t hurt you.”

I slid further back in the saddle to move her a little away from the pommel, but I bumped into the pack on my horse’s back.

Zelda let go of my neck and looked up at me.

“I could have ridden after you on Himawari, couldn’t I?”

“No. I can protect you better if you’re right there with me. The Yiga have the art of appearing out of nowhere and attacking you with sword and bow. They could have separated us by waking the sleeping Hynox and kidnapping you quite easily.”

Her beautiful face was millimetres from mine, I couldn’t help but gaze into her deep green eyes. Her pupils dilated, her lips opened a crack and honey sweet breath, clouded my mind. Feeling her chest rise and fall steadily, I realised my hand was still at her waist and she was sitting on my lap.

I tried to calm my racing pulse and deep breaths so as not to take any more space from her by my strong rise and fall of my broad chest.

Silently, we sat there staring into each other’s eyes. Even though I was a disciplined knight, I was only a man. My gaze fell on her slightly parted lips. Magnetically attracted by her breath, my mouth approached hers.

But suddenly a thought flashed through my mind and made me jerk backwards. I was still her knight, protector and closest confidant. I had no right to kiss her.

“Sorry princess. That wasn’t planned” I cleared my throat and tried to gather my thoughts. But then I noticed Zelda’s sad face.

“Princess? Why are you so sad?”

Zelda furrowed her brows and averted her face. However, it felt like I had put a rift between us.

“It’s nothing. We should keep moving or we’ll never get to the snow mountains.” She signaled me to lower her down. Carefully I hoisted her onto Himawari’s saddle and we rode along the mountain pass, following the path. A herd of wild horses crossed our path and galloped ahead of us, across all directions. At the end of the trail was a hut with a campfire and we decided to let the horses rest at this spot.

“What is this place?” Zelda asked.

“Hebra Trailhead Lodge. See that wooden ladder? If we climb that, we’ll get to Rosporo Pass. From there we get to the Hebra south summit. The pass to the right of the mountain takes us past Corvash Peak Mountain to Hebra Plunge and Hebra Falls. But the way is a long one on both paths, I suggest making a campfire close to this hut, but stay at the pass.”

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However, it had since dawned on me that my education as the royal daughter had done little to prepare me to live in the world that existed now. Of course, no one could have predicted what would happen. But out here in the wild, there was no use for arithmetic, or table manners, or citing the favorite literature among the nobility. Life here was driven by work done with labor and skilled hands. The civilians that still lived across Hyrule all knew how to collect and make the supplies they needed.