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flowerwrites06 · 11 months

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forest bride — myg

FOREST BRIDE | Min Yoongi | Oneshot | Requested by Anon

Original Request: hii i would like to request an arranged marriage au that turned out as a healthy relationship, unlike where oc came from y'know family full of mistreatment and favoritism. any member is fine! thank u! Plot: The business transaction of a marriage between two previous warring clans takes an unexpected turn. Pairing: Yoongi x OC (Name: Kiku) Genre: Historical Inspired | Arranged Marriage Rating: 18+ Word Count: 8.9k Warnings: emotionally distanced family dynamics, emotional abuse and bullying from family members, minor character death (mentioned), angst, explicit sexual content (unprotected, gentle). Author's Note: This was soo much fun to do! I hope you like reading it as much as I loved writing it! Thank you to the anon who requested this <3

Kiku was a quiet daughter amongst children of four in the Moon Clan. She was in the middle of the line of birth, often keeping to herself while her father doted on her brothers and her mother babied Hanaka, her sister. Kaito, the oldest son of their family, was the only person who ever paid attention Kiku.

He taught her how to play the Koto when they were younger. The soft plucking of strings were the only sounds she made in her household. Her mother, Keiko complimented the sound with the assumption that it was Hanaka. When Kaito explained that it was Kiku, their mother pointed the lack of precision at the ends of each verse.

Kiku felt safe and comforted under the wing of Kaito.

But fate had other plans.

Kaito grew sick after a hunting wound turned gangrenous and the winter only worsened his condition. When he passed, Kiku felt the searing and back-breaking weight of her family's scrutiny.

Suddenly she was no longer Kaito's companion. She was a mouth they didn't want to feed.

On the fresh cusp of spring, her parents unceremoniously announced her arrangement to marry the chief of the Onyx clan. Their rival.

"Kaito said they were dangerous," Kiku said as she knelt on the ground of their main living area. Her parents stared down at her while Hanaka and their younger brother Haruki sat on the cushioned mat.

"Kaito isn't here. Don't name him when we haven't finished mourning, stupid girl," Keiko spoke through gritted teeth.

"You will marry Chief Min Yoongi and give this family an important alliance," Daiki said with a finality to his tone.

The Onyx Clan was notorious for raiding other clans, enslaving their high-born families and treating any foreign spouses like dirt. Preventing them from causing any problems in the Moon Clan was to keep them at bay with something that they didn't think was a risk.

Keiko would never send Hanaka to a place like that. Perhaps Kiku was prepared specifically for this very alliance, forcing themselves not to love her so they could make a difficult decision. Perhaps that was just her own heart trying to find a glimpse of love in a place that had none for her since the beginning.

Kiku lowered her head in a solemn acceptance, her dress still black and her heart still raw from mourning the only family member who loved her. "I will do as you wish."

The wedding flourished during a misty, cold morning just at the skirts of dawn where purple kissed the edges of the mountains. Kiku wore a white dress of pretty silk, embroidered in both ivory and crimson thread as if the cloth bled. A white veil laid over her head giving the world around her more of a misty vision.

They held the wedding in the central border between the Moon and Onyx Clan. There was a gentle plain where it was decorated with flowers, divided with wood and a tea set prepared on a small wooden table. Her father walked her over to the table.

Kiku forced herself not to look at her groom just yet. Instead staring at the teapot in front of them, spouting a plume of steam with the faint hint of jasmine and honey in her nose. Tea ceremonies during weddings were a common tradition amongst both clans. Thankfully, it was a tea that Kiku enjoyed but the symbol of it dawned on her like a heavy weight on her back.

Sharing tea with a man outside her family was a sign that she was now connected to him. Bonded to him. A man that Kiku hadn't even looked at yet. So she gained some bravery within herself and stared up.

Min Yoongi wasn't a large man but he was taller than her. In this vulnerable state, he looked like a looming statue. It wasn't necessarily his stature but his presence that created weight. His black eyes pierced deeply into her as if peeling off layers of every protective sense she had of herself.

A deep scar ran down his eye, making it a little greyer than the left eye. His lips were pursed and a little pink while his pitch black hair was long to the nape. Short hair was often a sign of a deadly warrior. Someone who killed many without mercy and had little honour. At least that was what her parents told her.

The esteemed monk stepped to the front of the altar and began to recite ancient chants of a bonding ritual. Kiku tried to focus on the words but she couldn't stop keeping Yoongi's gaze. His eyes softened just then when she wasn't loosening her gaze either. As if he was waiting for her to look at him.

For a brief moment, Kiku noticed something gentle behind that demeanour. Or perhaps it was yet again her mind tricking her into feeling something positive when her world was turning upside down and she couldn't do anything about it. Yoongi glanced briefly over to the monk as they stepped to the table.

He waved his hands as he spoke his chants before gesturing to a young boy.

It was the father's duty to pour the tea. So Daiki poured it with a solemn face, almost bored. The waft of jasmine and honey coated her nose, giving her some comfort.

The groom shared his tea with the bride first. Yoongi's hands were veined heavily as if he were training in the dark hours of the morning before coming here. He reached out carefully, slow enough so Kiku didn't feel shocked. He pulled at the fabric and revealed her face, the cold morning breeze kissing her heated up skin.

Yoongi picked the tea cup, softly placing the brim of the cup to her lips.

Kiku kept her eyes on him right until she felt the warm honey touch of the tea on her tongue. She slowly pressed her lips together as he pulled the cup away. Just as Yoongi's cup clinked down, she picked up her own cup.

Yoongi lowered his head a little, making it easy to her to gently tip the cup. He took a sip, his throat bobbed up and down before she placed it back on the table.

The ceremony had been sealed. Even as Kiku foolishly tried to look back and say goodbye to her family, her mother was already fixing Hanaka's hair and her father continued speaking to Haruki. Niether of them gave any indication that they wished for a goodbye so Kiku turned back without a word.

Yoongi held her hand, just barely brushing at first to ensure Kiku would respond.

Kiku curled her fingers around his, allowing him to fully intertwine together before making way to the horses.

Yoongi clasped her waist, pushing her up to sit on the horse. Then he sat behind her, grabbing the reins as the scent of rain wafted in Kiku's nose.

The air turned wet to the touch and she noticed the darkened splotches on the tree bark of a soft drizzle slowly turning to gentle rain.

"Are you sure you don't want to speak to them?" Yoongi uttered his first question as her husband and Kiku wasn't sure how to respond or feel.

Kiku glanced briefly at her family, seeing Haruki rubbing his brow in boredom while her mother was still having a conversation with Hanaka, touching her chin. Still none of them tried to look her away. "It's alright."

Yoongi didn't order the horse to move for a few minutes before a small hum vibrated through his chest, tingling her back. "Very well," he said. He made a clicking noise and the horse began to gallop at a steady pace.

The forest that was considered Moon Clan's territory was an identical stream of teal leaved trees and small wildflowers, clustered amongst light brown mushrooms and wet lands. Kiku enjoyed walking through them purely because it was peace outside of her household.

However, Onyx Clan's territory harboured something so different that it almost felt magical. There were still those collections of teal leaved trees that wafted a sweet scent. Other than that, she saw patches of yellow and pink flowers, flat mushrooms that blushed at the edges and pretty deep green vines that wrapped around dark tree bark.

The sun began peeking a sharp light at the edge of the mountains, making the distant rivers look like melted gold.

The Onyx Clan itself was a beautiful village, with calmly sleeping cows and horses in their stables. Night food stalls open for business as families were out to eat chilli noodles and honeycomb candy. Moon Clan was so used to clean diets and fresh fish that the deep, spiced notes of the stalls overwhelmed Kiku, reminding her even more than she wasn't in her old household anymore.

People of the Onyx Clan gave way when they noticed Yoongi riding into the village. Their faces filled with smiles and excited whispers as they noticed her white dress. A little girl waved shyly at her.

Kiku hesitated but waved back with a faint smile.

As they arrived to the main cluster of houses for the high-born Min family, Kiku saw a group of people waiting for them.

Yoongi jumped off the house with a thud before gently holding onto Kiku again and helping her onto the ground as well. A small set of stairs led up to the cluster of houses.

When they reached, the older woman in centre gave a kind smile. By the way she was dressed in a beautiful silk kimono and the way Yoongi bowed low when seeing her, Kiku knew she was the matriarch of the family. Seeing so much kindness after her grief was something Kiku hadn't prepared herself to expect. So for a moment, she felt lost and unable to respond. She managed to give a wide enough smile.

"Bloody hell, Yoongi, you scared the shit out of her," a young woman from the side chuckled. Not in mockery but just jovial nature.

"Yun," the older woman reprimanded with a serious expression. "Manners." She turned back to Kiku with a smile. "Sorry, my dear, I understand you're in a new place. And our clans haven't had the best relationship but you are family now." She reached out and touched her hand.

Kiku could've been moved to tears at a warm mother's touch but she kept herself strong.

"My name is Hwayoung," she said. "These are my daughters Nari and Yun. I have a son named Yeong but he's away on a trip and will return tomorrow."

Kiku nodded. "It's lovely to meet you."

Hwayoung's flickered to Yoongi. "Let's have dinner and then you both can go rest."

After their dinner concluded and Kiku's belly was warm, they convened back to their bed chambers.

Kiku was given night dresses and also new clothes for the next few days. Especially since her family didn't give her any dress to take except for one.

For a while, the room was left empty with just Kiku watching the fire flicker before skimming through the books laid upon the mantle. It was mostly war and history stories along with some manuals on mastering the sword. Kiku wished she had some books on the Koto to play and fill her days that didn't have to do with having Yoongi's children. But she wasn't sure.

Hwayoung and Yoongi's sisters seemed nice enough but there was no way of telling whether it was a momentary ruse. After all, they couldn't be rude to her in front of everyone. Although a part of Kiku wanted to believe that their kind faces were genuine.

The door then clicked open. Yoongi walked through, wearing a relaxed black silk shirt and his hair tousled as if he had just taken a bath. He closed the door behind him, expression taken aback for a moment as if he hadn't expected someone in his bed chambers before softening.

"Do you have everything you need?" Yoongi asked.

"Yes, thank you." Kiku walked forward to him as he sat at the edge of the bed. She didn't say anything yet but Yoongi's throat bobbed up and down.

Stammering, he said. "We can just sleep."

Kiku blinked curiously. Of all the things she expected, this wasn't one of them. It was relieving that he was kind but to completely let her adjust to the new place was not on the list of expectation. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," Yoongi said, keeping his eyes on her. "It's been a long day. We should both rest."

Kiku intertwined her fingers together and nodded, feeling a strange warmth in her chest. "Alright. Good night."

In the morning, Kiku awoke to an empty space in her bed. When one of the maidservants entered to serve her, she explained that Yoongi went out to train early in the morning just before breakfast to keep him awake.

Kiku hoped she didn't look scared to deter him into performing any marital duties. Perhaps throughout the day, she could try to comfort him. She knew what she was getting into.

After taking a warm bath with the maidservant being surprisingly gentle and kind, Kiku was called into breakfast by Hwayoung.

The Min family gathered under a gazebo structure made from black wood. It was round and the food laid out smelled like home in a place that hadn't been her home for a full day yet. Baked fish, soups, rice, fruits for sweetness. It was a spread for something that usually rushed in her family. Or at least Kiku would have to eat quickly.

Kiku sat down next to Yoongi while Yun and Nari continued on their conversation. Yoongi's brother, Yeong came in from his trip and he looked a softer compared to his older brother and smiled often. Usually making jokes with his mother.

Yoongi ate fish and seemed to prefer the soups over rice.

While the others were deep in their conversation, Kiku leaned in slightly. "How was training?" she asked.

Yoongi looked up, again a little shocked but quickly softened. "It was good."

"Yoongi gets quite sore after his training, Kiku," Yun said with a small smirk. "Maybe later in the afternoon, you should give him a massage. Lord knows he needs a good one."

Yoongi glared for a moment but Kiku found it endearing.

"Yun," Hwayoung reprimanded but with a playful air this time rather than the disciplinary one of last night. "Kiku should not be forced to do anything she doesn't want to."

Kiku stammered. "I'm alright with it. I used to give shoulder massages to my brother all the time."

Yoongi cleared his throat. "It's really alright." He nodded.

Kiku smiled politely, lowering her head.

"Perhaps Kiku should come spend the day with us since brother insists on being boring," Yun said.

"I am new here," Kiku said.

"A tour then," Nari said.

Hwayoung perked up. "You can take her down to the markets and get some silks or jewellery. There's lots of music playing there too."

Kiku blinked curiously. "Would there be any Koto players?"

"You like the Koto?" Hwayoung asked.

"My brother taught me how to play." Kiku's heart clenched at the mention of him again. It had been so lovely to be in a place like this. How nice would it have been if their family all spoke so easily to one another.

"That's sweet. How is your brother now?"

"He's passed away," Kiku said.

"I'm sorry, my dear." Hwayoung's eyes turned sad. Both of empathy for her but something else. "I lost my husband a while ago as well. I understand it can feel empty." The table turned quiet for a few moments to remember their father

"Thank you." Kiku's words were simple but Hwayoung didn't fully realise just how much comforting words directed at her. Like a warm, tight hug that she could cry into.

Kiku spent her time walking around with Yun and Nari as they explained all the ins and outs of the clan's main village. They had three smaller towns that used the same supplies and answered to Yoongi as Chief but this was the clan that Yoongi's ancestors had built and it was beautiful.

Nari took her to the bookshop and silk store. Kiku bought herself a pretty purple silk dress while also getting books on poetry that she used to enjoy listening to. A poetess would visit their clan when they were younger and Kaito would work in the shadow puppet shows to re-enact them.

It was one of the few things Kiku was allowed to watch with the family while helping Kaito work with the puppets.

Then they went to the food stalls. Kiku ate spicy dumpling noodles with mushrooms foraged from the forest. Apparently they helped with childbearing as the old woman stated, clearly knowing that it was going to be her who bears the next Chief. Kiku hadn't quite let that sink in but even when she did think about it, it wasn't a horrible thought.

Kiku, Yun and Nari then made their way to the training grounds once their bellies were full and their cheeks hurt from laughing. Kiku hadn't laughed or smiled like this since Kaito made jokes to cheer her up. While they did bicker, Yun and Nari seemed like they were close and loving to one another.

Kiku wondered if Hanaka and her would have ever been like that if their mother didn't get involved so much.

At the centre of the training grounds, Kiku saw Yoongi training with his younger brother Yeong. He spoke instructions for Yeong to follow, keeping one hand behind his back as if to hinder himself from making any strong moves. Yeong kept his hands tight on the hilt of the sword, swinging right against Yoongi's parries as the clang of steel whistled in the air.

Kiku found herself seeing the concentrated scrunch of his dark brows, sharp jawline a little clenched as he parried another attack. His black hair was tied back with chunks of it falling over the frame of his face. "He does this every morning."

Yun hummed. "You like what you see?"

Kiku cleared her throat. "It's nice he's teaching his brother."

"Yeong should focus on his studies too but he keeps running to brother for more training," Nari said. "Yoongi never refuses. He likes training for no reason."

"Ever since father died, brother trains constantly. There's no war but he always says there might be danger," Yun said. "Even with your alliance, he's still weary." Nari quickly nudged her arm and for the first time, Yun felt a little uncomfortable.

Kiku pursed her lips together. She wondered if Yoongi was suspicious that her father would run an attack on them regardless of their alliance. While Kiku was a small risk to lose in the family, her father still may break the deal. She had little trust in her father and wouldn't be surprised if he wishes to prove some kind of point.

As she shifted in and out of her thoughts, Kiku saw Yoongi turn to notice them watching. Notice her watching. Kiku tried to look down at the wrapped silk dress in her arms, hoping it wouldn't look too suspicious. Yoongi turned to tell Yeong to take a break before making his way over to Kiku.

"Looks like your husband wishes to speak to you." Yun smirked, returning to her demeanour as if nothing happened. She pushed Nari towards Yeong to speak to him instead.

Yoongi raised his brow as his sisters rushed away. Beads of sweat had formed on his hairline as he met Kiku's gaze. "They didn't bother you too much?"

Kiku was shocked by what sounded like a genuine question. "No. They were lovely. They showed me around the main town."

"I can see that," Yoongi said before giving his sword away to a servant. "Come with me."

Kiku nodded and followed him out of the training grounds.

They moved from the training grounds back into the cluster of houses where the Min family resided. Yoongi escorted her to their personal house and Kiku wondered whether Yoongi wanted to pursue their marital duties now that he was given time.

It was strange but Kiku's heart pounded not quite out of fear or worry. It was simply curiosity and perhaps even a little excitement. Everything Yoongi had done so far was give her comfort.

As they entered the main house, a beautiful polished Koto stood in the living area.

Kiku's breath caught in her throat as she looked at the Koto which had beautiful ivory finishes and a soft chair to sit on while playing. "Is this for me?" she asked in a low tone.

"You said you used to play Koto. I figured you'd like to play in your free time," Yoongi said. "Your parents didn't pack much for your trip." He shrugged.

Kiku's lips parted as she reached out and touched the Koto. Memories of playing with her brother and learning every note with him burst in her like sweetness. Tears formed a thin gloss on her eyes, as she took a deep breath.

"Is it alright?" Yoongi asked.

"It's perfect," Kiku said. She turned and smiled. "Thank you. You didn't need to do that."

"It was nothing," Yoongi said. "It's your home now too."

Kiku nodded as her heart swelled.

"Also if my mother starts giving you too many lessons, I can get you a secret room."

Kiku let out a small chuckle. "It's okay. I'd like a lesson."

Yoongi pressed his lips together, a hint of a soft smile forming on his features which only made Kiku's heart warm.

Kiku's time in the Onyx Clan was far more pleasant and loving than she ever expected. Before she even realised, four months had passed. Kiku spent days with Yun and Nari, had meals with Hwayoung and then spent a quiet night with Yoongi. It was still innocent between the two of them but she enjoyed those quiet moments sharing things about their day. Yoongi still didn't speak on any personal things and Kiku didn't want to pry on how he got the scar on his eye or about his father's death. But it was still nice.

Kiku nearly forgot that she had another life prior to these few months. It was only when her younger brother, Haruki came to visit the clan. Discomfort returned to her chest, aching and making her twitch. She barely spoke to Haruki and every time they had a conversation, it was malicious. Haruki found joy in insulting her and demanding her to do things as a way to mimic their father.

Kiku reminded herself that she wasn't in that place anymore. This was her home too. She wore her new purple silk dress and pinned her hair up while the servants prepared a tea set on the floor table.

Haruki entered the private house as escorted by the servants. A childish grimace on his face as always but his chest puffed to look like father.

Kiku kept sited at the table.

Haruki stood over her for a few moments as if waiting for her to stand. "You wouldn't bother to see your brother at the border."

"You've come at a busy hour," Kiku said. Truthfully, she wanted to be in the warm comfort of her home to breathe easy and hide her shaking fingers. "What did you need?"

Haruki scoffed and sat down, tapping the side of the teacup. "Father's dead."

Kiku had little love for her father but she still sit in a moment of silence, unable to know what do with the news. "What happened?"

"We need more supplies," Haruki said, ignoring her question.

It was courtesy anyway so she didn't ask again. "The Moon clan has spare granaries for those occasions."

"We have an alliance." Haruki eyed her up and down. "I'd expect you to tend to it since you're clearly not tending to any children."

"What happened to the granaries, Haruki?" Kiku asked, emphasising his name.

Haruki pursed her lips, keeping his eyes on her gaze and waiting for her to look down. When she didn't, Haruki's face twitched. "We'd been using it."

"For what?"

"That's none of your concern," Haruki said.

"So not emergencies then," Kiku said.

"You can't speak to me that way." Haruki chuckled bitterly.

"I'm the Lady of this territory and your older sister, I can speak to you in whatever tone is necessary." Kiku narrowed her gaze. "What happened?"

Haruki tightened his jaw like a stubborn child. "We'd been taking from it for the banquets. Father and mother celebrated a lot because you were gone."

"And after brother's death," Kiku said.

"Don't talk about brother."

"He was my brother too. More a brother than you ever were."

Poison laced in his voice. "Kaito spent time with you because he felt bad for you. You were this pathetic thing crouching around everywhere. The only time people said anything nice about you was in order to fuck you. Don't pretend you were someone special to him or Yoongi." Haruki gestured to the door. "He's not even willing to put a baby in you." He chuckled.

"I don't appreciate being spoken for, Chief Min," Yoongi's deep voice shook through the room.

Haruki turned his head, expression turning sour.

Yoongi walked into the house, shadows forming harsh lines on his face as something dark flashes across his expression. For a moment, he looked like the exact nightmarish image of what the Moon clan thought of the Min family. Even barefooted steps added a heavy echo in the air that it sent chills down her own spine despite the fact she knew this demeanour wasn't for her intimidation. "You can have your supplies at the border."

Haruki deflated as if letting out a sigh of relief. "I should've gone to you first then, Chief. It seems I expected too much of my silly sister." He gave a triumphant smile to her.

"Of course, she made the mistake of thinking you were far too competent." Yoongi intertwined his fingers together, veined and hardened from training.

Haruki's expression turned again, cheeks reddening. "Excuse me?"

"Don't worry, I won't make that mistake." The corner of his mouth quirked up. "Perhaps we'll have a charity basket at the border."

Haruki stood to his feet quickly, shaking and trembling like a little boy. "You go too far."

"Do I? Because it seems as if you've come here asking for more than the agreed alliance and proceeding to disrespect my wife," Yoongi said. "The way I see it, giving you a charity basket is more mercy than you deserve currently. I suggest you take it quietly."

Haruki had all the inflated confidence their parents bloated into him from childhood. If he was even the slightest bit stupider, he would speak and in a brief second of that stupidity, he almost did. But then he glared at Kiku. "You'd let him talk to your family like that?"

Anger spread through her chest. Now he wanted to be family, when it benefited him. "If only you were true family then perhaps not."

Haruki grimaced, giving a softer glare to Yoongi before turning on his heel and stomping out of the house.

Kiku let out a deep, shaky breath as her spine began to ache from the tension. She closed her eyes and tried to catch her calm again, taking the scent of wood and warmth in her comfortable home. She heard Yoongi moving until she heard his hum right at her ear.

"Quite the unpleasant family you have," Yoongi mused.

Kiku couldn't help but let out a small, saddened chuckle. "Kaito was the only good one."

Yoongi turned and sat down next to her, shoulders pressed.

The heaviness gave Kiku a wave of comfort like the way his breath hit the back of his neck when they slept.

"If he comes again, I'll ask the guards to delegate him to me or my mother," Yoongi said. "There's no need for you to speak to them if you don't want to."

"You won't be burdened by them?" Kiku asked, turning her head and finding his face incredibly close.

"No one should speak like that to you especially not in our own house." Yoongi waved his hand.

Kiku smiled as her heart burst into little butterflies, creating a lump in her throat. She leaned in and pressed a small kiss on his cheek.

Yoongi turned his head just as Kiku was pulling away, their noses brushed against each other. Dark eyes pierced into her, keeping her still in her position even though her body ached for how close they were. Yoongi kissed her lips, shyly at first to help her adjust to the action.

The tantalizing warmth that passed through Kiku pushed her to lean into the kiss, cupping his cheek. Yoongi's hands held onto her lower back pulling her close until she was pressed flush against his chest.

His lips were hot against hers, keeping his grip on her firm but so soft and gentle. Yoongi only broke the kiss for a moment as Kiku caught a deep breath before pressing her lips again. She gripped onto the fabric of his shirt until Yoongi pulled her enough for her to straddle him completely.

Yoongi held her face in his hand, pausing their kiss again to move his lips down to her neck and jawline. Every ache that she felt from her encounter with Haruki melted away at his touch. He pulled at the pins of her hair, letting it fall down the trail of her back. His fingers traced the length of her spine, making her shiver. Tongue grazed over the soft spot on her neck as her hips began to sway against his own.

Yoongi let out a small groan, lifting his head up. His chest heaved in desperation, gripping onto her hair and keeping their foreheads pressed together.

Kiku reached in again but Yoongi kept her in place.

"Are you sure?" Yoongi asked in a rasped voice that made her tremble.

Kiku nodded. "I'm sure." She reached in and kissed him again, deeper and pleading to ensure he knew this was what she wanted.

But a knock on the door startled them.

Yoongi let out a small, frustrated sigh. "What is it?" he asked.

Kiku got off his lap slowly with a clear of her throat, trying to fix her hair as the door opened to a servant.

"Sorry, sire. Your mother needs your audience for something." The servant kept their head bowed as if already knowing the position he could've caught them in.

Yoongi turned and gave Kiku a soft look.

Kiku gave a reassuring smile, patting his arm before he got to his feet and walked away. Leaving her heart pounding manically.

Another week passed since their kiss. Yoongi wasn't distant necessarily but it did feel like nothing changed. Kiku wondered perhaps he didn't enjoy it. He was the Chief and had many choices of his own. Kiku was an alliance marriage. Any affection that they developed may have just been a spur of the moment as they lived under the same roof. Despite all the explanations she's made in her head, it still twinged something in Kiku. With the kindness received from Yoongis family, she imagined that something would be wrong. She traded a kinder family for a husband that didn't quite enjoy her affection. She'd take it though.

This morning, the family sat around the table for breakfast. Yoongi gave her a glance here and there but it was still distant. Kiku tried to smile back but he immediately looked away.

"So Kiku has been immensely calm these past few days," Yun said, a smirk playing on her lips. "Ma says it's often a sign of...something on the way." Her eyes flickered down to gesture to her stomach.

Kiku's cheeks burned, stammering. "No, it's not that." She shook her head. "I had my bleeding." She couldn't quite hide the slight disappointment in her tone. Kiku never thought about children especially with the experiences she had with her own family. But something about the silence from Yoongi made grasp at unnecessary desires of children or anything to melt off the ice between them.

Yun hummed, pouting. "That's a shame, I wanted nieces and nephews." She poked at her food, the light breeze making strands of her dark hair dance.

"Don't pressure them," Nari said, her tone serious. "They need to be relaxed when they do it."

"Girls, quiet." Hwayoung narrowed her gaze, letting out a defeated sigh. "Don't listen to them." She smiled. "These things take time."

Yoongi stayed silent and Kiku herself couldn't find anything to say but give a reassuring smile. Even though she worried Yoongi won't come near her a second time.

Kiku played her Koto in the afternoon while Yoongi was out supervising the patrol. Usually it would take him till evening to come back. But today he came in early, stomping and breathing out with frustration. A strange sight from someone who was so calm. Raven black hair glistened from sweat, patches of dust latched onto his skin and his jaw terribly tightened as if it might make break his teeth.

Strangely enough, it was relieving to see some emotion in Yoongi after all the distance. Kiku stood from the Koto. "What's wrong?" She asked gently.

"Your damn brother," he seethed. "His men attacked one of my scouts." Yoongi poured water into a goblet and chugged it.

Kiku's heart dropped. "What?"

"Apparently they'd been disturbing the peace. But they didn't plan for me to come." His scar looked deeper and darker when he was angry. "Mother was weary about them for a while but I didn't think they'd stoop to petty little violence."

Kiku lowered her head, almost in shame. Even though she felt more connected to Yoongi's family, her name and identity was still attached to the people she grew up with. It was embarrassing seeing others witness the pettiness that she endured her whole life. The same pettiness that Kaito hated. "I'm sorry," she said.

Yoongi stilled for a moment, dark brows furrowed as he turned to Kiku. "Why're you apologizing?"

Kiku stammered. "It's my family. They're like this, our parents made you all seem like monsters and Haruki would do anything to make himself feel like father would be proud." She shook her head.

"Well, that's their mistake, not yours." Yoongi spoke under her breath but Kiku clung to every word and kept it close to her chest.

She reached out and touched his arm. "Is there anything I can do?"

Yoongi stared at her deeply and so long that Kiku felt like layers of her soul were being peeled. Then he broke the gaze and tried to walk back to their bedroom. "No, it's okay."

Kiku's stomach clenched as once again, the ice began to form. But this time she wasn't going relent quietly. "Yoongi, you don't have to protect my feelings. If this is too much of a burden to you then I can leave."

Yoongi stopped, looking over his shoulder to her. The expression on his face, harsh. "What?"

Kiku dug her nails into her palms to give herself some form of strength. "I can handle my family, I've lived with them my whole life. But...I don't want you to be married to someone you don't truly want."

Yoongi's throat bobbed up and down. "Is that what you think?"

"I don't know," she spoke honestly. "I just know that you became distant after what happened and I—I'm unsure."

Yoongi fully turned his body around, stepping closer. "If you're unsure, then you talk to me."

"I can't speak my wishes so easily." Kiku's voice lowered as he moved closer until she could catch wafts of the forest from him. "It's not something I'm used to."

Yoongi's expression softened. He rubbed in between his brows. "I'm a little too used to my family just saying what they think." He looked up to her. "I'm sorry. I should've checked on you."

Kiki's stomach felt warm. staying silent for a moment just to ensure what she heard was right. Then she spoke in a small voice. "It's okay."

Yoongi took her hand in his, intertwining their fingers together turning her world into a burst of stars. "I will not make you go back to that place again." He muttered. "I want you here."

"You want me here?" She asked again, just to hear him say it so it could echo inside her whenever darker voices grew too loud.

"Right here. With me." Yoongi tightened his hold. "Will you do that?"

Kiku nodded, a burning behind her eyes. "I will, I promise." She smiled, touching his chest to make herself feel grounded again.

"We still need to deal with your stupid brother," Yoongi said. "He's quickly turning into a pest than an ally."

Kiku could spend years imagining Haruki as this invincible monster, similar to when they were children. But this was real now. Haruki wasn't Kaito. He was stupid and petty even when he tried to hurt her. There were a million ways to get rid of people like that. "I might have an idea."

As Kiku requested, Yoongi organized a meeting at the border between Onyx and Moon territory. A canopy was erected with a floor table where they all sat together. The edge of dawn painted the mountains and tree in a burnished gold and the scent of morning dew was the only comfort in Kiku's pool of anxiety.

She was prepared for this meeting and the decisions entailed but rarely had she spoken up to Haruki before. When Kiku tried, her mother or father would reprimand and punish her.

Even as Haruki walked to the canopy, she felt a prickle of being scolded in a few minutes. But she had push it down. She wasn't Haruki's sister here, she was a Lady of the Onyx Clan. The Chief's wife.

"This pompous meeting surely isn't about the little scuffle between scouts," Haruki said. "It's a bit of harmless fun."

Yoongi stayed silent.

"You brought your wife here too," Haruki looked Kiku up and down, making sure that he used a moniker disconnected to him.

"In regards to your previous demands, we're suggesting some changes in the alliance." Yoongi kept a calm tone even though Kiku saw the tightened grip of his hands.

Haruki chuckled. "If you don't want her anymore, just kick her out." He waved his hand. "One of your servants can have her."

Yoongi narrowed his gaze but kept his neutral expression. "As you commented on our child before, we had an idea on how to strength the bond between clans."

"And how is that?" he asked.

"Since you require our food supplies which we give to you out of kindness, we have a compromise," Yoongi said. "In exchange for our food, any child born from my wife will take the Chiefs title of the Moon clan."

Haruki's brows furrowed as his chest heaved. His glare turned to Kiku. "You put him up to this, didn't you, you bitch?"

"It was a joint decision," Kiku said, maintaining her calm demeanour. She was used to his insults. She wouldn't let it hurt her again.

"I won't agree to this, it's stupid." Haruki winced.

"Very well," Yoongi said. "Then I suggest you get your defences ready."

"What?"

"Your father must've told you how the Onyx Clan works." Yoongi began to muse and there was something... oddly satisfying about the tone. "My wolves haven't been out for a feed in a while."

"You'd attack your ally?" Haruki asked.

"Attacking my scout and disrespecting the Chiefs wife constitutes that you are breaking every rule in the alliance," Yoongi said and Haruki stayed quiet. "Giving you an alternate compromise is a mercy. I suggest you consider it. My soldiers won't care if you're a spoiled Chief who can't carry a sword properly."

Haruki grimaced, chin quivering in frustration. He looked over at Kiku, as if trying to get ready for another insult but he knew it was too late. Kiku was no longer the target to point insults at. One wrong move and Haruki loses his head along with the Moon Clan. This way they can keep their lives. Haruki was stupid but he was still too scared to die. "Fine. I accept your terms."

Yoongi hummed. "Thank you." He stood up and held onto Kiku's hand, helping her to her feet.

"What would've Kaito said about you turning your back on family?" Haruki asked, cutting into her in a place that ached like a thousand knives.

Kiku paused in place, gripping onto Yoongi's hand like her life depended on it as her heart panged in pain. Haruki knew nothing about what Kaito was like. It took her every strength and hope in her body not to throw scalding tea in his face for even insinuating that Kiku would do something to disappoint Kaito. Because Kaito wasn't like that. Kaito understood and listened. Haruki was a fool. Kiku straightened her posture, turned and looked Haruki straight in the eye. "Kaito wouldn't have caused a food shortage in the clan."

Haruki scoffed, pursing his lips together.

"Kaito did his duty, as I am. From where I'm looking, I'm not the one who made father die from disappointment." Kiku felt like a dam burst inside her as she let the words flow but seeing the Haruki's sour and pouty expression made it all worth it.

Kiku was able to breathe easy when they returned to their tent for the night. She walked over to her vanity and her maid immediately began taking pins out of her hair. She watched from the mirror as Yoongi unlatched his sword sheathe of his waist and began to pour himself a drink. The dark furrow of his brows prominent. Kiku raised a hand and smiled at the maid. "A moment, please."

The maid bowed and did as she asked, stepping out of the tent to give them privacy. Kiku took out the rest of the pins so her hair was fully open and relaxed. A dull throb formed on her scalp. She stood and made her way to Yoongi as he leaned forward on the table.

"He can be a lot to tolerate," Kiku said.

Yoongi took in a deep breath to calm himself down. "The way he talks to you, it's like you're complete strangers. Enemies, even."

Kiku swallowed the small lump in her throat. It was always normal to her, seeing the way family treated the one they didn't want with the exception of Kaito. But Yoongi valued family with his life. She could only imagine the kind of shock thrumming through him. "You have a good family. Some don't." She touched his arm. "But sometimes you find a better one."

Yoongi turned his head, his once sharp eyes now softened and sad. "If I've ever made you feel—"

"Not once." Kiku knew it like the breath she took. Yoongi and his family had been nothing but comforting and kind. She reached and pressed her forehead against his. It was almost involuntary but feeling him lean into it was the only answer she needed to keep still.

Yoongi turned his body slowly, letting their chest flush against one another before he leaned and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. His warm hand cupped her cheek softly like she was precious. He pulled away only to press kisses on her cheek and jawline, taking her into an embrace. He buried his face into the crook of her neck where the scent of jasmines wafted in his nose.

Kiku could fall asleep in this embrace. Her body and mind and every bruise in her heart soothed from the loving touch. She traced her fingers across the strands of his hair as if lulling the both of them to dreams. It was difficult to admit it in the past few months with the new changes and confusion. But today for the first time, she could surely say it.

Kiku felt loved.

The meeting had left Kiku and Yoongi tired for the evening. They rested their heads, nestled close as they tried to sleep. Tried was an effort Kiku persisted on as the hours went by. It wasn't quite a terrible night of troubling thoughts but an eagerness. She opened her eyes to see Yoongi with his eyes calmly closed, his lips a little puckered.

Kiku took a moment to watch him, reaching out a little to touch his cheek. He stirred slightly at her touch, but his eyes remained closed, his breathing steady and rhythmic. She pulled away with a defeated sigh, not wanting to wake him up. So she turned around and tried to drift off to sleep again.

It was only a few minutes later then she felt Yoongi shift, moving closer until his chest was pressed right against her back. His arm laid over her body, embracing her from behind. Kiku felt a wave of warmth and comfort wash over her as Yoongi tightened his hold.

"Can't sleep?" Yoongi asked.

Kiku hummed. "A little. It's okay, go back to sleep."

"I can be awake," Yoongis voice rasped as his face buried into the crook of her neck again. He began pressing kissing down the length of her shoulder. "Do you want me to be awake?"

Kiku smiled to herself, swaying her hips against him. "A little."

Yoongi chuckled lightly, the vibrations made her quiver in delight. He made Kiku lay on her back, climbing on top of her and sneaking between her legs. "Are you sure?" He whispered.

Kiku nodded. "I'm sure." She smiled against his lips before pressing a kiss on his bottom lip.

Yoongi kissed down the length of her neck, unravelling his night clothes and pushing up Kikus soft dress. He entered her gently, her snug walls hugging his tip before he kept pushing.

Kiku gripped onto his clothing as the sensation made her tremble under him. She swayed her hips with his movements, encouraging him to move faster. The ache was slight but the tingle of pleasure sent her into a slight dizziness. She wrapped her legs around his waist.

Yoongi brushed his fingers across her hairline, full of affection as he moved deeper inside her. He pressed sweet kisses at the corner of her lips.

Kiku smiled feverishly as the pleasure sent heat through her body, radiating like steam and intoxication.

Yoongi made sure he was slow, not just to be careful but to draw out this intimacy for as long as he could. The feeling of embrace brought back every slight desire he had in the past few months to hold or touch her. "Feel good?"

Kiku nodded, letting out a slight whimper as he continued to move at that tantalizing pace. "Good." She traced her thumb across his cheek. Strands of his hair falling over his face, curtaining over hers. Her core became slick with arousal, creating light squelch sounds as he thrusted into her with a new desperation.

His release clouded him, flooding him with an unbearable warmth until he grind himself into her. He muffled his moan against her neck.

Kiku felt his lower belly press on her sensitive spot, making her clench around him, pushing him further into his climax.

Yoongi lifted himself up, foreheads layered with sweat as they pressed against each other.

Kiku took his lips into a kiss, surging him to thrust into a steady pattern that made her lose breath. She gripped onto the side of his neck as moans broke through any form of whisper.

Yoongi quickened his pace following the pattern of her moans and the rolling of his own release. Then the sweet burst into a ricochet of pleasure and heat.

Kiku smiled, breathless as she relished in the warmth filling her. As Yoongi kept moving, he snuck his head in between her legs, targeting her sensitive spot and pushing her to the edge. Kiku's brows furrowed, aching to reach her own climax as she was full of him. Her breathing turned to quickened whimpers as she squirmed under his touch. Her back arched, head thrown back giving Yoongi the chance to kiss her neck and jawline.

Her climax bloomed, the heat of it shaking her limbs and forcing her legs to shut around him. Yoongi kissed her forehead, still rubbing on that spot until she twitched against it.

Kiku whimpered, pushing his hand away. A small laugh left his lips fuelling her with more delight. It was the most wonderful feeling she had to be embraced like this so warmly and the bliss of pleasure melting her body until she was meshed with the bed itself.

"You feel sleepier now?" Yoongi watched her with his own half-lidded, blissed eyes.

Kiku smiled as her breathing turned slow and calm. "Mhm." She traced her fingers down his cheek. "I think I've officially become your wife."

"Oh?" Yoongi's brow raised. "You weren't before?"

Kiku chuckled, slapping his chest playfully. "I mean we don't have anything to hide anymore."

Yoongi caged her in with his arms, making her feel safe and secure. "No, we don't."

Kiku blinked slowly, her finger moved gently to his scar. "Like this?"

Yoongi's expression softened into a mix of ruminating vulnerability and an old sadness that had been repeatedly reminisced. He lay down next to her, shoulders pressed flush. "My father and I go on small trips every now and then. He used to do it with every child, just to. . .talk, connect with nature and spend time." He waved his hand. "It was strange for Chiefs to do it but he said it was because he never got to speak to his own father. So, he wanted to make sure we weren't. . .without one." He let out a long breath.

"He sounds like a good father," Kiku said.

"He was." Yoongi's dark eyes melted and glossed from emotion. "One day though, bandits were prowling in the place my father and I camped. They attacked us. I got this from one of the bandits." He pointed to the scar. "Before my father told me to run while he fended them off. I called my mother and some guards to help but we were too late."

Kiku shifted and rubbed his chest. "Is that why you train so much?"

Yoongi nodded. "I want to make sure Yeong and the girls know how to defend themselves or others should the need arise." He took a deep breath, playing with Kiku's hair. "But I had a good family. We took care of each other, just like we'll take care of you."

Kiku smiled, resting her chin on his chest. "I'll take care of you all too. I still owe you a massage."

"You gave me a pretty good one a minute ago." Yoongi smirked.

Kiku chuckled. "A proper massage."

Kiku and Yoongi returned to the main houses early in the morning as the soft gold of dawn painted the forest. Hwayoung had lunch prepared with the rest of the family to welcome them home. Fresh steamed fish with tofu, rice porridge and some fresh fruits newly picked from the farms. Kiku ate happily, her appetite had grown in the months she was with this family but it made her all the more energetic and vibrant along with her excitement from the past night's events.

Something the family noticed more than Kiku realised.

Yun, in particular, stared the two of them a little too closely with a smirk. "So how was the trip, brother?" She asked in a sing-song voice.

Yoongi's eyes flickered up as he paused mid-bite. "As most political talks go with a spoiled brat of a Chief. He gave into the deal quickly," he spoke in a slightly formal tone.

Kiku quietly sipped on the last drops of her tea before he gently poured her another cup. She gave him a shy smile.

"I haven't heard much about the prospects of the Chiefs of the Moon clan but the younger son is usually unprepared," Hwayoung said thankfully to distract from what Yun actually wanted to ask.

Yeong stammered just as he took a bite of his food, looking at Hwayoung with a pout. "What'd I do?"

Hwayoung raised her hand. "I mean, generally. Not you."

Yoongi let out a small chuckle under his breath. "She means you."

Yeong sighed, pointing at him with his chopsticks. "I've beaten you in sword training before, I'll do it again."

"Did you do anything else in the trip?" Yun asked, with a wide grin, leaning forward in excitement. "You were both alone for the night. And Kiku's been. . .glowing."

Kiku's cheeks burned, clearing her throat. "I—I don't—"

"You need to stop obsessing over your brother's marriage, sweetheart, it's getting strange." Hwayoung patted the back of Yun's hand.

"It's only because you don't let me get married." Yun leaned back on her chair, folding her arms over her chest.

"Mother's protecting the men of the clan," Nari said, raising a brow.

Yun slapped Nari's arm as Yeong snorted.

"See how they bully me?" Yun asked Kiku.

Kiku chuckled, biting down her bottom lip and glancing at Yoongi. Often when she had terrible encounters with Haruki, she would get scolded by her family and live with the suffocating feeling of frustration in her chest.

Today was the first time, Kiku could cling to the happy moments and forget about Haruki or any of this harsh words. Her family threw her to the Onyx clan like a bait at the end of a fishing line but in their hatred for her, Kiku found love for her own.

masterlist

#yoongi #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts imagines #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #yoongi fanfic #yoongi imagines #yoongi fanfiction #bts arranged marriage au #bts x oc #yoongi x oc

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eatmeandbirthmeagain · 3 months

Note

Are you willing to write a kingdom of heaven fic where the reader has a child from a previous marriage that ended when her previous husband died. A girl like 6-8 years old who is shy at first

♡ New Family - King Baldwin x Reader ♡

♡ Fluff ♡

A/N: Hello Anon, thank you for your request! This is such a cute idea, so sorry its taken so long to get to. I hope it's what you had in mind! As always, this is based on the film Kingdom Of Heaven, not the real historical figures. Enjoy!

TW: Leprosy, Mention of Death, Mention of Domestic Violence (Not Baldwin dw), Nightmares/PTSD, Mention of Trauma.

It was a warm spring day when y/n and Baldwin were wed.

Their marriage was one of preference instead of arrangement after the two had met at the Jerusalem market.

Y/n ran a silk stand with her daughter, Miriam, when the king had decided to attend the market himself one day instead of sending a servant. He had been feeling well lately and wanted to take the opportunity to get some fresh air.

When their eyes met, it was love at first sight. There was no denying it.

However, there was one small problem. Y/n was a widow. Her husband had died in battle and as much of an inconvenience as it was, she couldn't help herself but feel slightly relieved.

He was a cruel man, a harsh man who believed in discipline for both wives and children. So needless to say, y/n couldn't help herself but feel relieved when she received news of his death.

But because of this, it was expected that she would not be married again and for a time, she had no issue with this. That was until she met Baldwin.

At first, she thought of herself as ridiculous when he had come by her stall. He was the king! And she was a widowed peasant who already had a daughter. It was simply not possible she had thought, until a servant came by her stall with an invite to the castle sent directly by the king.

Their love bloomed from there and despite being frowned upon, they were wed.

Y/n’s daughter was a naturally shy girl. The first time she had met Baldwin, she hid behind her mother and peeked out at the man from behind her robes.

His metal mask was less of the issue when it came to her fear (even though it did make him look far less human to her), it was more the past with her father.

At only seven years of age, she had experienced so much which was a great pain to her mother.

When they first met, the king gifted her a small carved, wooden horse as a present. She loved it and even approached him to take it from his gloved hand.

She was still nervous around him in the beginning, but she began to enjoy the benefits of becoming royalty. She loved the teachers who taught her all kinds of things that a peasant would simply not have the resources to know and she enjoyed playing with her cousin, Baldwin V.

She thought it funny that he had the same name as her step father and looked up to him as a big brother and he protected her as such.

Miriam’s nervousness around the king ended in just one night when her mother was away on royal duties overnight.

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

It was late at night when the girl’s eyes snapped open and she came awake, sweating and shaking.

She was prone to nightmares from the incidents with her late father.

Usually, Miriam would run to the royal chambers and call for her mother, who was a vastly light sleeper due to her own trauma. She would comfort her and bring her back to her own chambers. Y/n would read her a story and hold her until she fell back into sleep, but this time she was not there to do that.

The girl sat up in bed, her heart racing. All she could think about was her mother. She knew she was not going to fall back into sleep easily and would most likely lay awake in bed, with the fear of her fathers undead spirit returning and harming her.

Then she remembered Baldwin.

She was incredibly nervous approaching him about the subject.

It was late at night as she assumed he would be sleeping, she caught herself wondering if he slept in the mask or not. After a few minutes of thinking, a small noise made her practically jump out of her skin and she sprinted to the royal chambers.

Stopping outside the door she realized that her body had made the decision for her. Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the door as quietly as she could and slipped inside, closing it behind her.

Inside she was greeted by a comforting warmth and the distant sound of the king's quiet snoring. Taking another deep inhale, she focused on her footsteps as she approached the bed.

Her heart was pounding.

What if he was angry at her for waking him? What if he told her to get over it? No, he would not do that. He was a kind man, a gentle man. The opposite of her father.

He had told her the day they met that “if you ever need anything, I am here when you are ready”, and she really needed him now.

Finally, she reached the side of his bed.

The moonlight that shone through the window illuminated his face that was covered in.. bandages? His cheeks, forehead, nose, and chin were all covered with clean, white bandages. That explains the mask.

Seeing him like this took her nerves away instantly.

He looked entirely human without his mask. Without it, he was just a man. A human, like herself.

He had soft curly blonde hair that spread out on his white pillow like the halo of an angel, this was completely different to the harsh, rough textured brown hair of her father.

He lay on his back with one hand resting on his chest, the plush blankets covered his body and he looked quite comfortable.

Miriam observed him for a moment longer as she decided whether to wake him or not. Finally, she made up her mind.

Reaching out an arm, she touched his shoulder softly. His night clothes were just as soft as she imagined them to be. She pulled her hand back quickly when he shifted.

Baldwin groaned and stretched as his body awoke from a deep sleep. He turned his head, fully expecting Tibarias to be standing there with important news as he had done countless times before.

His eyes widened at the sight of Miriam standing beside his bed, her cheeks stained with tears.

“Miriam, are you okay? What happened?” suddenly realizing the absence of his mask, the king panicked and reached to his bedside table for it.

“No, don't! I like your face without it” the girl said urgently. Baldwin smiled slightly at that.

“That's okay. Are you alright? What are you doing here?” she was surprised at his concern for her over his concern for being woken in the dead of night.

“I had a nightmare” she whispered. Baldwin’s face turned from one of slight panic to one of sorrow and concern.

“Oh angel, it will be okay. Come on, let's get you back to bed and you can tell me about it if you would like?” he offered, she nodded quickly.

Baldwin sat up from the bed, desperately attempting to keep his face free from a pained expression as he stood slowly.

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

Once back in the girl's chambers, the king tucked her in and sat down on the edge of the her bed.

“Would you like to tell me about this nightmare of yours?” he asked, his voice was so kind.

Miriam nodded and began to tell him all about the recurring nightmares that she had been having since she was five years old.

The nightmare consisted of her father returning from beyond the grave to kill her mother and eventually her, after he forced her to watch her mother be torn appart.

The king listened to her words intently as she spoke.

“That sounds awful Miriam, I am so sorry” he told her, a look of sincerity on his bandaged face. She thanked him and gave a weak smile.

“Would you like me to read to you until you fall asleep?” he asked, returning the smile.

The girl nodded, her eyes lighting up at the words.

Baldwin walked to her bookshelf and retrieved a short story book that he recognised from his own childhood.

He sat down on the edge of the bed when Miriam spoke, “could you sit here?” she asked, gesturing to the space right beside her, against the headboard of the bed.

The king smiled at the innocent request and shifted positions to where he was sitting right next to her.

She moved closer to him, leaning against the side of his body.

Baldwin tried his best not to smile, it was the first time she had requested his affection. This was a massive step in their relationship.

“Could you stay with me the whole night, father? I don't want to be alone” she whispered, causing the young man's smile to widen.

“Yes of course Miriam'' he replied, relishing for a moment in the fact that she called him ‘father’.

Baldwin moved his arm and placed it around her, pulling her close as he began to read.

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

Around twenty minutes past when the king looked down to see that she had fallen asleep against his side, her eyes were shut peacefully and her chest moved up and down silently.

The smile returned to his face at the sight, before he moved his hand to cover a soft yawn.

The king gave his daughter one last look before letting his eyes fall shut, joining her in sleep once again.

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

The following morning, y/n arrived home early. The sun had only just started to peek above the horizon when she entered the castle.

Entering the royal chambers, she expected to see her husband sprawled out on the bed, fast asleep. But he was not there?

Placing her bags down, she assumed he must have left to attend his duties early.

Y/n decided to check on her daughter, since she missed her greatly overnight.

She entered the room and a wide smile crossed her face at the sight before her. Baldwin and Miriam curled up against each other, sleeping soundly as the first rays of sun streamed in through the window.

She walked up to her daughter's bedside, pulling the covers further over the two.

This certainly was the progress that she hoped would happen while she was away.

Y/n bent down and kissed her husband's forehead gently.

“Im so proud of you” she whispered to him before turning to leave her beautiful family in peaceful rest.

#king baldwin iv #kingdom of heaven #kingdom of heaven fandom #king baldwin #king baldwin iv x reader #king baldwin x you #king baldwin x reader #kingdom of heaven 2005 #the leper king #king baldwin iv x oc #baldwin iv #koh fandom #koh #baldwin iv of jerusalem #baldwin

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archangeldyke-all · 3 months

Note

Reader who crochets? And she makes these special sweaters with the left sleeve cut out for Sev’s arm?? Omg

-🥨

ANON did u see logan @sevikasenby 's crochet tapestry of our wife!?!?? THE TALENT IS BEYOND

men and minors dni

there's a superstition in the knitting/crocheting community called 'the sweater curse.' the idea is basically that when you hand make a prospective romantic partner a sweater, you doom the relationship to fail.

you've read countless horror stories on crocheting forums about relationships going up in flames once a sweater is gifted.

'she called the sweater ugly after i spent a month on it.'

'he thought a hand-made sweater was too intimate and i was moving too fast.'

'they left with no explanation the same day i bought the yarn for their sweater.'

you've seen it all.

you know that the curse is something to fear. and you really don't want to lose sevika. but she's stubborn.

sevika thinks the fact that you crochet is so. fucking. cool.

most people think it's a grandma hobby.

sevika thinks it's the most impressive thing in the world. you can make anything. she's watched you knit blankets, sweaters, tops and socks. little stuffies for the neighbor kid next door, hats for your friends' birthdays. mug cozies, coasters, pillow cases and dog clothes-- she's seen you make it all.

and she's dying to have you make her something.

"don't you love me?" sevika whines one night as she cuddles in bed beside you while you crochet a scarf.

"can't stand you, actually." you grunt, already knowing what she's about to bother you about. she huffs.

"you don't understand baby. i was sooo cold at work today-- freezing, really-- and it's not like i can go buy a sweater 'cause of my ar--"

"you're so fucking annoying." you groan. sevika chuckles.

"is it so bad to want to show off my baby's work?" she asks. you huff, shaking your head.

"it is when it means we'll break up!"

she wears you down over time.

you start crocheting her little things, wanting her to feel loved but not wanting to subject the two of you to the curse.

you crochet her a little keychain charm on your anniversary; a hat for winter solstice. in the spring, you make her a few new scrunchies for her half-ponytails.

for her birthday, you give her the first big crochet project you've made for her: a purple poncho in a thick, warm yarn, perfect for the colder windy days when her thin red poncho isn't enough.

she cries when you show it to her. (she nearly gets heat stroke a week later when she tries to wear her new winter poncho on a blazing hot day.)

when you propose to her (kneeling in front of her where she sits on the couch kissing her hands, metal and flesh alike, as you bat your eyelashes at her,) sevika doesn't even let you finish the question before she's pulling you off the ground and into her lap, kissing you breathless, and pulling away with a sob. "yes!"

"you didn't even let me ask!" you laugh. sevika kisses you again.

"you have to crochet me a sweater now. make it white, i'll wear it to our wedding." she cries.

you don't do that. (though you do crochet the neck tie she wears on your big day.)

you wait until you've been married for a year, until you're settled in married life and comfortable, until sevika's not expecting it anymore.

and then, on the night of your first wedding anniversary, you give sevika her first sweater.

it's the most intricate thing you've ever made. the cable crochet pattern you used was complex and time consuming, but it looks fucking gorgeous. beautiful royal purple-- her favorite color-- her exact measurements, and sleevless on the left side.

sevika wears the sweater everywhere. all the time. whenever she can.

you only planned on making her the one, but her reaction (and the wear and tear the sweater receives from being worn by the scary woman of zaun) inspires you.

you knit her a new sweater, every year, for the rest of your lives.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @realgreeniebeanie @k3n-dyll

@sevsdollette @ellieslob

#sevika #sevika imagine #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika #🥨 anon

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itsphoenix0724 · 11 months

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a cassian pink azalea story pls 🙏

Pink Azalea (Cassian x Reader)

Warnings: angsty, allusions to smut

Word Count: 1.3k

❀° Event Masterlist ❀°

A/N: Hi Anon! Thank you so much for participating in my writing event! I hope you enjoy what I've written for you, and I hope you come back again soon! I took inspiration from the Cas and Mor storyline, but the reader is Rhy's sister. No smut this time but I'm planning to stretch those muscles very soon don't worry. I kind of ran with the theory that the pool of starlight in spring was a portal, so that was a fun idea. I hope you're having an amazing day, and as always constructive criticism is welcome! <3

“Engaged?!” Cassian’s enraged response shakes your bones. You were sitting on Cassian’s bed in your Mother’s cottage, your trembling hands fisting the small quilt, tears pouring down your cheeks.

The tears haven’t stopped since your father announced that you would wed the eldest son of the Autumn Court.

“You’ll marry him!” Your father had yelled perched atop his throne, his night-filled powers draining the air from the room. It felt like someone was holding your head underwater, the numb shock taking over your whole body. You had tried to argue, but your father’s power had sent you to your knees before his throne. “Your business with that Illyrian is done.” His tone was final.

“Father, please,” You sob. Hands clawing at the stone floor.

“Enough! You have a duty to this family! To this court!” His voice was booming with so much power, so much force the windows shook in their frames. Your father never left any room for argument, and your poor mother had only sent you pitying looks from where she was standing beside his throne before she winnowed you here.

You couldn't hear Cassian’s words until he lightly shook your shoulders.

“There’s got to be something we can do to stop this,” he sputters and paces infront of the bed. The only thing you wanted to do was bury yourself alive in the garden out back, and not come out until this whole mess was over. “We could run away!” Cassian insists. He would run you to the edges of this earth and the next if it meant it would get you to stop looking like a wounded animal. You huff out a dry laugh that does nothing for Cassian’s ill-timed temper. “You could come up with some ideas too you know? He’s your father!” That snaps you out of your stupor, and the boiling rage in your stomach finally threatens to surface.

“HE IS MY HIGH LORD ABOVE ALL ELSE!” The volume knocks Cassian back a step, and you shoot off the bed, your wings flaring with the rise of your anger. “Just because he lets Rhys, the perfect heir, do whatever he wants does not mean I am extended the same courtesy.” The well of power you inherited from your father threatens to suffocate everything in the room, the fireplace struggling to stay lit. Cassin stays weathering the storm as you scream yourself hoarse. “I am worthless to him without this. It doesn’t matter, has never mattered, to him what I am capable of outside of being shipped off to strengthen court alliances by reproducing.” The sobs come again. The years and years of rage surfacing now at being overlooked simply because you were born a woman. You fall against the bed, your back making the old mattress squeak under your weight. “If I try to run, he’ll probably chain me to Eris’s bed himself.”

Cas lets out a heaving sigh as he pulls you into a sitting position, clutching your hands and kneeling before you. He presses a kiss to each one of your knuckles and waits until your bawling turns into soft sniffling. Your hands have wound around his neck, cradling his head to your stomach as you try to calm yourself down. He’s trying his best to help you, rubbing soothing circles into the bend of your knee. The only thing you can do is keep babbling out how this is so unfair, how you love him, and how you’d rather die than marry Eris.

Surprisingly your mother is the one who becomes your savior.

Your beautiful quiet mother, who only stayed with your father out of gratuity for her unclipped wings, stands in the doorway with the most determined look you’ve ever seen on her face. Here was the female who you thought your father long buried, the one who kicked and screamed so hard when they tried to take flight from her she brought down the snow off of the mountains. This was the Queen of the Night Court, and she wouldn’t let anyone shackle her daughter.

Cassian steps away, respectfully inclining his head to your mother as she walks over to you and grabs ahold of your face.

“Listen to me,” She directs you so that you’re looking into her eyes. “You are not marrying Eris.” The pure seriousness on her face makes you nod along. “I need you to listen very carefully. I’ve called in a favour with Spring, we’re leaving, and we won’t be back for a very long time.” Her eyes dart between you and Cassian, who looks as if your mother had just ripped his heart out and stepped on it. She wheels on him next, looking at him in a way that makes him go deathly still. “Cassian, you have to promise me you won’t say anything. Not to Azriel, not to my husband, and especially not to Rhysand.” Her face pains when she mentions your brother and your own heart gives an ugly at not being able to see him for a long while. “No matter what happens”

Cas turns into a sheet of white, but he agrees to the promise with your mother anyway, and tattoos burn their way onto their forearms. Your mother clasps his cheeks and presses a kiss to the top of Cassian’s head. She turns back to you after Cas’s eyes begin to well with tears.

“You have an hour before we leave, you must not take anything with you. I’ll let the two of you say your goodbyes.” She exits the room and Cassian has you back in his arms in a second. He presses a bruising kiss to your lips hauling you by your hips into his broad chest. You pull the tie out of his hair as you kiss him just as fervently. If this was the last time you would be seeing him you were determined to make it count. He moans at the way you scratch his scalp and presses you down against the threadbare bed. You spend the next hour losing yourselves in each other when you collect yourselves to leave. Cassian escorts you to the border of spring, your mother insisting he travel with you no further. Tamlin and his father meet you at the border, and you bid one final goodbye to Cassian.

“I promise to you,” he mutters against your lips, a hand cupping your cheek. “That I will wait for your return until my last breath, and if that is still too soon I will wait for you in the world after this. I swear on my life.” The singe of the tattoo that appears on your skin matches the burning intensity of his kiss and your tears.

“Goodbye, Cassian.” You breathe in his scent for one last time, trying to inscribe it in your memory. He breathes deeply into your hair before leaving one last kiss there as the High Lord of Spring and his youngest son usher you into the night. You make your way through the court before stopping at a small pool that looks like it stole the diamond-painted stars right out of the sky. You and your mother hold hands and swim down together, you hold your breath until you reach the bottom. There was a brief flash of pain, your lungs screaming for oxygen.

And then you and your mother disappeared without a trace.

What followed was a shit show. Spring’s High Lord has done an excellent job of covering your tracks. The glamoured head and wings were a gruesome sight to see, and it had sent Rhysand’s father into a rage that resulted in a bloodbath. Rhys and Tamlin were now High Lords. Cassian wanted to tell his brother about the ruse, but the promise mark burned into his forearm stopped him every time.

But he would wait. He promised.

And Cassian never broke his promises.

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #acosf fanfiction #acotar imagine #cassian acotar #cassian x reader #cassian imagine #lord of bloodshed

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hxnguxng-jxn · 2 years

Note

hi can you do a scenario of lan zhan y/n wei ying y/n hasn't been eating much so they feed him the scenario is that y/n is sitting on the edge of the water and lan zhan is behind kissing his neck and his lips while wei ying is in the water between his legs kissing his thighs making him gasp and lan zhan put a strawberry between his lips if y/n doesn't eat he won't be able to have more pleasure (it doesn't have to be explicit if you don't feel comfortable it can be subtle and I like the dialogue)

Writers Note(s): The first few lines confused me but I did get it in the end, Anon! I can do this for you, and I made it more sensual like a post-Wedding honeymoon thing if you don't mind! ^^ I also used more Chinese based fruits for this, for accuracy!

Info on Reader: Reader is confirmed AMAB in this work. The Reader is mentioned to not have healthy eating habits; can be because of personal reasons, the clan wars, and/or anything. Reader is pampered here in a sensual manner, if you don't like please steer away.

Timeline: Post-canon, WangXian/Reader decided to have a proper honeymoon and left the Cloud Recesses for a short while. Inn is ambiguous.

🔴 Slightly suggestive content, be warned. It's more pampering and soft, but it is sensual and hinting.

Fujoshis and Fem Readers DNI || Enjoy your read!

The long time it took your group of three to finally get to the inn Wei Ying recommended, it was already time to rest and close your doors.

The honeymoon phase of your tri-elopement has been so bitter and filled with war, mystery, and more negativity then you'd like to recall. Your younger self, if you ever could tell them about this, would be horrified from start to finish. Your stomach felt hollow, yet full of cotton as you think back on the events yourself.

By the time Wei Wing had secured your party a room for a few days and Lan Wangji had borrowed the kitchen to make a basic meal for your travels; they both found you dead asleep and refusing to wake on the mat while they ate.

Even during breakfast, you only ate the bowl of glutinous rice that was put in front of you and took some of the grilled wontons to quell your stomach sending up unpleasant pangs. Sadly, it seemed that while exploring the town, that was the only time they saw you eat. Your jug of water was refilling a lot, compared to your plate at home.

Reflecting on the food habits of your travels and here at the inn and resort, you should have expected that these two handsy husbands would come up with something like this.

... When you finally are led where they wanted you, sitting on the pools rim while fully dressed and Wei Ying holding onto your robe, you feel Wei Ying saddle as close as possible while picking up a cherry.

While the inns personal bath is outside, it is surrounded by a fence that you are glad exists. You had been escorted in by Lan Wangji and in the large spring of water, you could see Wei Ying already in the water and messing with a bowl of fruit on the pools edge. You recognize said fruit had been bought in a shopping frenzy by Wei Ying earlier, so you suspected they were up to something...

And you were right. Very right.

Said cherry ended up at your lips and Wei Ying teases out an, "Say ahhhh..." before you got the hint. Eating it earns you a cheeky "attaboy" from him too.

Lan Wangji is the one who speaks up to explain this new situation to you as your robes soak in the water. "You haven't eaten well. It's our honeymoon. Eat." Lan Wangji ends the sentence with a kiss to your neck.

Wei Ying chimes in next with an apple slice between his index and thumb. "We've noticed that you haven't been eating well and we, as your husbands, just want to treat you a bit. We can't allow our husband to go hungry, can we?"

As he states that, he puts the slice onto your lips again and your stomach gives a pang as you eat it from your husbands hand. As you see him smile at your agreement, you feel Lan Wangji give an airy kiss to your shoulder as he pulls down your collar.

Oh... Oh, they were clever.

They were very passionate lovers, you knew that as you've been there for every walk of life with them. From Lan Wangji's first drinks in public with you and Wei Ying all the way to late night escapades during a clan war, you've known them to be handsy and very reckless. And it seems in this inn they'll risk letting the owners see them just to be loving on you.

You expected Wei Ying to feed you again, but the only one properly in pool attire in the water was more enamored with reaching up your robes and cradling your legs. Wei Ying pushes up the wet clothes and kisses up from your ankle to your knee as your face heats.

You're so enamored with Wei Ying that the new cherry at your lips startles you for a second before you hear again. "Eat."

You do and you're rewarded with Wei Ying biting wherever he lands, and you let out a gasp as an answer. Lan Wangji was gentler in his approach as he kissed at your neck, but you can hear his own breath speeding up as you gasp. Lan Wangji was next and fed you a piece of persimmon, and eating it earned you a kiss on the jaw from Lan Wangji himself.

"Good boy, good boy..." Wei Ying soothes as he relaxes further in the water till he is just bobbing carefree between your legs in the pool. "You're starting to get the hang of it. You snack, and we'll take care of the rest."

"It seems you two just like feeling me up and added fruit into the mix." You tease as you notice Lan Wangji slipping a hand to your sash to loosen your layers of clothes. You suspect eventually you might have to go in the water fully at this rate. "What do I get out of this, hm? I'll have to work off all this sugar if we're not care..."

Wei Ying grabbed at a starfruit as you were talking and slipped it between his own lips and held it there as he listens to you talk, and after you were trailing off he grinned with it in between his teeth.

You look at how smug he is and question him. "Wei Ying? What are you... ?"

And he seals his lips to yours with sudden movement. Lan Wangji was undoing your sash and robes, kissing and nipping your neck as Wei Ying attacked your lips. The starfruit was cut small and you feel the ridges pass your lips as your husband in front of you tangles his fingers in your hair. It was a tart, sweet, and stinging kiss.

Lan Wangji, who's been far too passive in the verbal department, seems to have his dam broken as he watches his two husbands make out before him. Lan Wangji's voice hitches as he is the one to answer your question from earlier.

"Passion..."

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ae-neon · 4 months

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Regarding the sex pet introduction. I remember reading this post from The Lady Of Bloodshed and it was an ask about Feyre standing in the Spring Court VS Night Court. I think it was an old post, please forgive me if I recall it wrong. Please correct me if i got it wrong.

But yes, it also disturb me the fact Rhys introduce her as a whore VS Tamlin introduce her as the "next SC lady". I remember Tamlin set the party and everyone was joyous, respectful to Feyre. Mind you, Tamlin introduce Feyre to his close circle, his childhood friends and we know this friends has influence in SC political structure and dynamic. Tamlin trusted her and I would say he respect her and want the SC to respect her too (Credit to Tamlin from Acotar 1).

But rhys? Suddenly out of nowhere he bring a whore to the Hewn City event/party? No introduction, no proper gathering, no introducing Feyre who is who in HC. Suddenly, Feyre a whore.

If you see this from HC people POV, wont they be disgusted with Rhys and especially Feyre? "The HL kidnapp a Spring Court bride and made her a whore in our court" and of course HC people hated Feyre. Their position os vulnerable because of their HL kidnapped another HL bride. This is emphasize by Cressida when they visit Summer Court.

I get Feyre will be clueless of this but Rhys? It was as if he wanted to isolate Feyre and control Feyre narrative of other. All other court they visited or have history is bad IF rhys think they are bad. Spring Court,? Bad history and suddenly Feyre destroy the court. Summer Court? Rhys somehow dont like them and lie to them and have Feyre stole the book. Autumn? Yeah, they got beef in the HL meeting and Feyre accidentally burn the Lady Autmn hands and then proceed to bully,make fun Lucien and his band.

Urghh I hate the whole thing Rhys introduce him as a sex pet. Feyre was a mortal that got through the trial and can be seen as hero to Prythian but now she is a whore, kidnapped bride from SC and your man dont even do a public marriage with you. It really make me itch thinking Rhys did not do a proper wedding with Feyre. He is a HL, establishing a proper ceremony with his wife is important. It legitimaze Feyre position and guarantee safety of his future heir from being ostracize in the succession line. It would be silly for a 500 years old male not knowing of this.

While all this thing of wedding, confirming Feyre position is not done by Rhys. Tamlin at least acknowledge this thing and were ready to handed it to Feyre.

Yeah yeah, I get Feyre dont want to this docile pretty pretty Wife. But the narrative of her position can be set up and change later after she got married (Though it dont happen because tamlin got paranoid). The least was, she will be wed to Tamlin and recognize as Lady of SC. Any attempt to hurt her is seen as hurting SC overall and challenging Tamlin as HL. Now, Feyre introduce as whore in Night Court. No one would careless if she die why? No paper work, no ceremony,no legitimazation frkm the HL himself.

Thats all, thanks coming to my Ted talk. I shall go lunch and back to Email Factory

Hello Email Factory anon

it's morning for me, I already typed a long reply to this, but Tumblr is fighting me, so I had to get out of bed and fetch my laptop.

(keep in mind i have not read SF and likely never will)

For many fans, Feyre's status of High Lady isn't something they question. Acotar Elon Musk aka Riceball said it is, so it is.

For some antis, they question the validity of it. the argument being: The HL title is not something the current High Lord can pass or share with whoever he chooses, HL is chosen by the land. there is no evidence, lore wise, that supports Riceball being able to make Feyre HL.

my personal theory is that Feyre could actually be HL of ANY or ALL courts due to her having a part of their magic. my evidence being that she was able to bypass the security of that temple in Summer because the magic recognised her as Tarquin. i think Feyre essentially has a skeleton key to every court.

and i think Rice knew that.

i think he recognised not only the threat, but the potential there and not just isolate her, as you pointed out, but fool her too. by having a private ceremony in which he makes her think it was him who granted her the status of HL.

I also think, to varying degrees of intention, he then went on to undermine her authority in each section of his court

The title of Cursebreaker, which should have been the key to his diplomatic strategy in MAF and WAR, was instead replaced

in Velaris:

Feyre could have easily secured lots of love and respect from her actions as the Saviour of the Rainbow. But fast-forward and post war all she has done is a little bit of philanthropy, have sex in the sky, build a 5th house and paint.

Im not sure what she could do for Velaris but what we do get is more about herself and the ic than the people

in Illyria:

Lets start with the fact that because the only Illyrians Feyre knows personally are Rice, Casserole and Adzuki Bean - she should have a more positive or at least optimistic view of Illyrians. but she wastes no time in absorbing and identifying with their racism. and sjm's racist narrative is not going to confront Feyre even when Illyrians only actions on paper are fighting and dying in the war against Hybern.

the books and it's fans will cite the fgm-like cultural practices but not confront that Rice and Co. have done nothing to actually stop or punish it, and admit to needing Illyrian's as fodder - something that is only possible when the society is kept at the brink of anarchy and war, necessitating the continued brutalization of its women and children

Feyre should have gotten the Valkyrie plot. yea, it's a white saviour trope but she is the official ruler of these people so the least she can do is help them, immerse herself in their culture (instead of just wearing their skins willy nilly) and maybe even adopted some kids idk

in the Hewn City:

first we need to set straight that the HC - not Velaris, a secret city - is the offical capital of the Night Court and the seat of it's HL. the people who live in it are the nobility. in a world of eugenics and lesser classes like acotar, this matters

we have already seen that the HL title can skip a royal line and fall to not directly in the line of succession, regardless of gender. (in Summer, the title skipped not just Princess Cresseida but also Prince Varian, to pass to their cousin, Tarquin)

we have also seen that age, even within the direct line of succession, is not a determining factor. (With Tamlin it skipped his older brothers and with Lucien, though we know he is not Beron's son, his older brothers legitimately believed him to be next in line)

given all of this, it is entirely possible that someone from the HC might be next in line. and yet Rice makes no attempt to truly bridge the gap between his Court of Dreams and Court of Nightmares. he introduces the person he knows is his mate to them as a pet.

Again, she's not just a stolen bride of spring but THEE CURSEBREAKER, she could have shown her off like a trophy or a token of his power if he really wanted to tie her power directly to his but no, he introduces her like a thing he owns, a thing that is beneath him.

it doesn't matter that later he says she is HL or that he puts a throne besides his, the narrative is already set: she is what she is, because he said so

a better idea would have been to throw a ball with her as the guest of honour, for her to stop Riceball from tormenting his subjects - would he listen to her? probably not so nvm

in contrast, Tamlin - who given his personality and attitude towards being HL in book1 - might not have wanted a grand ceremony but understood it would be good for his diplomacy and his court

he wanted to publicly marry Feyre - someone who was not his mate - tying them together in front of his court so they could all acknowledge their bond both personally and politically

he wanted her to be recognised and respected as the Lady of Spring even if he didnt think she could be High Lady of Spring

ignoring the similar situations of control and abuse Feyre faces in both - doesn't matter if she decides she likes Rice's, it's still control and abuse

it's kind of undeniable that Rice went about things in a way that is at best stupid and at worst manipulative

sjm tries to walk many lines between politics and love stories but she not every good at either so it just turns into a mess

though i will say: Rice would at least be interesting if he was doing all of this on purpose but so far sjm seems too in love with him to let him be intentionally heinous towards his love interest

#anon ask #anti sjm #acotar rant #anon asks #I can't remember which tag I use #sjm critical

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aihoshiino · 11 months

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After reading the latest chapter, I found it intriguing that right after the panel where Ayumi says that "Back then, Ai was 8 or 9", the next panel has her state that "Ai had grown up to be a woman", despite her being still just a child. No one would call someone that age a grown woman. It's seems like she didn't view her daughter as a child at all (and neither did her creep of a boyfriend) and only saw her as some sort of love rival who's an adult like her even when she wasn't. Ai's mom clearly wasn't fit to be a mother at all since a good mother would've broke up with her boyfriend instead. And even in the way she speaks of herself in this chapter, it's as if she wants Aqua (and the readers) to feel sympathetic. Ayumi truly is an awfully selfish woman and unfortunately she had to be Ai's mother.

anon i literally woke up this morning cooking ayumi meta on exactly this topic in my head and then logged on to see this ask....... you and i shall have a spring wedding

That said, you're right on the money. What I loved so much about the writing of this scene is how intensely real Ayumi feels as a toxic mother. I feel like a lot of people were kind of expecting her to be this over the top cackling Mother Gothel type but like I said in my ch 131 initial writeup, the unfortunate reality is that this is how a lot of abusers look. Like normal ass, regular, pathetic people.

In particular, I really love how deep of an understanding we get of Ayumi's messed up, contradictory headspace just over the course of the four pages we spend with her. She recognizes that she did something terrible and hates herself, but she has surrendered to this sort of self-enforced helplessness with regard to her own issues and fucked up behaviours. She knows that she needs to improve but is self-defeating about her ability to do so and the whole thing turns into a self fulfilling prophecy where she refuses to put in the work because she believes she can't change to begin with but BECAUSE she doesn't put in the work, nothing changes, which reinforces her belief that she can't fix anything so she doesn't try and... you see how the snake starts eating its own tail?

At the same time, though, this surrendering to helplessness is a safety net for her as much as it is a mental trap. By framing her behaviour as something she is powerless to resist or to stop, she essentially frees herself of agency in Ai's abuse and neglect. Being violent towards her daughter is not something she frames as an active choice, but as something she would "wind up" doing, as if by accident or compelled by forces completely out of her control. Not only that, but it allows her to rewrite the narrative for herself with regards to her abandonment of Ai – since she is so helpless to stop her abuse of Ai, the daughter she loves so much, she just had no choice but to stay away. But she was totally going to go pick her up someday, definitely! Never fucking mind that Ai was left there for so long that she aged out of the system before Ayumi ever came back.

It's once Aqua challenges this assertion, though, that the cracks start to form. Though even before that, an attentive reader will obviously have some red flags up – after all, if Ayumi loves her daughter as much as she says she did, then why does Ai describe herself as a person who has never been loved by anyone? At age twelve, no less? That is not even REMOTELY close to a thought a well adjusted and cared for kid should be able to express, let alone sincerely think.

There's always been a theme in Oshi no Ko of Ai being pulled in all directions, in trying to be everything that everybody asked her to be, succeeding and being punished for it anyway. In my CH131 thoughts, I coined the phrase 'adultification' to describe the way adult agency and expectations are enforced on children who are too young as a method of abuse, a direct inverse of the way infantilization happens to adults. Part of the impossible expectations enforced on Ai were having these twin opposing forces of adultification and infantalization inflicted on her in a truly maddening way.

Specific to adultification, though, we over and over see other characters inflict adult agency and sexuality on Ai way before the point that any reasonable person would rationally think to do so. When describing her falling in love, Kaburagi says that her face, which had been that of a child, "turned into a woman's" at a time that we know she can only have been fifteen at the oldest.

45510 seconds this, with the narrator describing how this adultification is inflicted on many young girls in the industry;

"At the time, younger age groups were all the rage, but girls in their formative years could undergo rapid changes as they matured. Once they outgrew that youthful phase, they were evaluated the same way as "ordinary" women."

... only to turn around and do the same thing to Ai:

"Right from the beginning, she exuded a maturity beyond her years, and in the end, she retained a fresh-faced, youthful allure."

With all that in mind, it's not at all a shock that this echoes all the way back in time to the starting point of Ayumi's abuse of Ai. It's reprehensible, but it's also unfortunately deeply real – it is heartbreakingly common for victims of CSA to be blamed for their abuse, as if being victimized by adults is something they have any agency in.

In this instance too, Ayumi distances herself from her own agency and culpability in Ai's abuse. Look at how she frames things and the issues that she centers; it isn't her own insecurity, toxicity and violence that ruined things. It was Ai's beauty. Ai growing into a woman. That she can say such a thing without blinking betrays so clearly that for all she insists she loved her daughter, Ai was never really a child to her. And the moment she realized Ai was attracting the attention of a man, Ayumi didn't see her as a child being victimized but as a woman posing a threat, a romantic and sexual rival who needed to be beaten back into line and shown her place. Even her anger at Ai's stepfather is so, so telling – the framing makes it clear that her anger is not that of a woman raging against someone who posed a threat to their child, but as a woman resenting a man who was unfaithful to her.

For all that she cries and self flagellates, Ayumi basically lays it all out in her own words without even meaning to. She doesn't take responsibility for her own actions, nor does she even really frame them as being central to the chain of abuse that destroyed not just her family but robbed Ai of her life. Even through her tears, she pushes Ai to the forefront while framing her abuse as a thing that just "ended up" happening, that she was powerless to stop. When talking to Aqua about how she can't make amends, the word she uses in the Japanese text is actually 贖罪 – Atonement, the same character used as the chapter's title.

But the thing about atonement is that you can't atone for a sin you don't take responsibility for. And Ayumi makes it heartbreakingly clear that for all her regrets and her pain, she has not come close to taking responsibility for the harm she inflicted on her daughter. And even if she did? It's too late. Ai is gone.

It's just as Akane says. There's nothing here anymore.

#shout out to the homies on plurk who joined me in wailing and howling post 131 whose chats solidified my opinions here #and whose phrasing of certain ideas i have almost certainly unintentionally stolen here #<- guy whose vocab is catastrophically shaped by the ppl around her #oshi no ko #oshi no posting #ai hoshino #ayumi hoshino #onk spoilers #child abuse cw #csa mention

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theforgottenmcrmy · 2 years

Text

Spring~ Part 1/2 (Ser Harwin Strong x Reader)

᯽ Please note that this is an overall Part 6 of the series “Growing Strong”, the masterlist of which can be found on the pinned post on my blog. For some reason Tumblr doesn’t like me posting it here lately.᯽

Pairing: Ser Harwin Strong x Tyrell! Female Reader

Warnings: GOT typical sexism, canon divergence, suggestive themes, mentions of pregnancy, death of minor character.

Summary: A few months of wedded bliss has been abruptly ended by another raven bringing grim news from Highgarden. As you try to come to terms with how the news will impact your life, someone familiar approaches you with an offer to lessen your burden... But are their motives genuine?

A/N: Thank you all so so so much!🖤🖤🖤 I’ve got a few more parts planned for this series, and I hope you all continue to enjoy reading it as I much as I have writing it. This chapter made me low key sad to write, but it had to be done for character development and future plot...💔 Maybe I’ll go back and write more light hearted stuff when this main series is over.

Fun fact, when I had planned this series, it was only going to have about 3 parts, and this would have been the last part. If I went that route, this part would’ve been named “Growing Strong” ... take from that what you will about what’s to come. Part 2 should be up on Thursday 10/20.🖤

PS, if anyone, and I mean anyone, wants to chat about last night’s ep, please hit a girl up. Shoot me a message. Send me an ask (shoutout to the anon who did so last time). Anything. I’m dying to talk about this stuff.

Ravens frequenting the skies between King’s Landing and Highgarden had become commonplace once more.

...

…

...

Dearest Brother,

Though you suggested you have been feeling less than well as of late, as I suspect is largely due in part to the cold weather, I beg you to take heart. The arrival of spring is upon us once more. With the improvement of the weather, I pray that you shall improve as well.

In the spirit of that happy news, I hope you will forgive me for what I am about to ask of you.

As I have before, I must continue to urge you to muster your physical and mental strength in order to finalize the negotiations with Lord Jason. The marriage between you and Lady Cerelle would be most advantageous for our House, and Lady Cerelle will be a fine Lady of Highgarden.

If not for the best interest of our House, I beg you to come to an agreement for your own sake. I have known nothing but pure happiness since I was wed some months ago. And for you, Brother, I would wish for nothing less.

As planned, my husband and I, along with my Good Sisters, shall see you for a visit in a few short weeks. If I do not receive a raven from you before we depart King’s Landing, I trust we shall speak further of this matter in person.

I hope this visit will benefit us both. Though I have come to think of King’s Landing as my new home, I fear that a part of myself will always long for the Reach, and for Highgarden even more still. Father always said that House Tyrell is at our strongest when we are not divided.

Take care, Brother. Despite the nature of this letter, I sincerely hope you are feeling more favorable than when you last wrote. I look forward to seeing you again.

Love,

Y/N

It was the warmest day of the year in recent memory. Though the winter had been short, and very forgiving, the warmer months were always heavily favored by those in King’s Landing.

Despite the small winter chill that still clung in the air, Princess Rhaenyra had requested to spend some time out in the gardens. You, Lady Lilyan, and Lady Eyla had joined her happily.

The four of you made yourselves comfortably seated at a table. Various trees and shrubs surrounded you, giving just enough of an illusion of privacy to placate the Princess. The sun shone upon the gardens, bathing the brightening greenery and blooming flowers in rays. Without any canvas overhead, the sun’s rays fell upon all four of your crowns as well. Though it was warm, it felt quite pleasant in contrast to the cool breeze.

“Under the Dragon’s eye…”

Samwell the Bard concluded his song, and the soothing chords faded away into nothingness.

Not but a moment later, Princess Rhaenyra requested, “Again.”

You saw Samwell’s complacent facial expression shift into an exasperated one, but fortunately, the Princess did not. As the bard began to strum the opening chords of the song once more, you exchanged amused looks with Lilyan and Eyla.

“Here you are, Princess.”

A serving girl placed a platter of candied lemons upon the table.

“Ah, yes!” Princess Rhaenyra gleamed, looking at the lemons with hungry eyes. “Thank you very much.”

As the serving girl excused herself, the Princess dug right in, grabbing several of the candied lemons at once. Before she ate the first one, she gestured down to the platter, and looked between the three of you. “Please, I insist- have some.”

Lilyan and Eyla grabbed a few for themselves, but the thought of the typically delicious sweets sound less than appealing to you at that particular moment. “Perhaps I shall have some later, Your Grace.”

“As you wish,” the Princess smiled with a nonchalant shrug. Placing her hand on her stomach absentmindedly, she added, “That just means there is more for me to enjoy now.”

The candied lemons were the latest of her cravings. Princess Rhaenyra, less than a year into her marriage, was with child.

It was a most welcomed development.

Since their marriage, Ser Laenor had been absent from King’s Landing more often than he had been present. It was not aided by the fact that winter had roughened the waters significantly, making sailing between Driftmark to Blackwater Bay and back a more difficult feat than it usually was. Thankfully, the news of Princess Rhaenyra’s pregnancy had quelled the more nefarious rumors about him and the nature of their marriage.

King Viserys was overjoyed with the news. If he had doted upon his daughter before, it was nowhere near comparable to the attention Princess Rhaenyra received from him now. Only the best maesters would be permitted to see to the new needs of his daughter. In fact, those said maesters had recommended against the Princess taking air outside in the gardens that day, citing that it was still too cold.

In response, Princess Rhaenyra had quipped, “When my mother was with child, she listened to every advice and suggestion you gave. But in the end, what effect did your words of wisdom have upon her wellbeing?”

The maesters were awfully quiet after that.

“Did you hear that Lord Hawick means to bring his daughter to Court in a few weeks time?” Lilyan asked the group conversationally.

With the warmer weather, it was not uncommon for ladies of noble houses to start flocking to King’s Landing. Though their fathers and brothers would do so under the guise of paying respects to and discussing business with King Viserys, you knew that it was really a means to flaunt their daughters about in the capital in the hopes of securing a worthy match for them. Various noble lords, their sons, and even knights were not a rarity in King’s Landing, nor the Red Keep.

You and Princess Rhaenyra merely hummed in response to Lilyan’s statement. Now that the two of you were each wed, neither of you were nearly as invested in the gossip pertaining to romantic intrigue of others at Court as you once might have been. You were satisfied with your own lives, in your own ways. However, neither of you would dare crush the spirits of Lilyan or Eyla, as the young girls had reached the age where they seldom talked about anything else but chivalrous pursuits.

“It is unfair,” Eyla sighed, downtrodden, “that as soon as we are to leave for Highgarden, countless others shall be arriving in King’s Landing.”

“There are plenty of interesting people of the Reach to meet, I promise you,” you assured her patiently. If only she knew.

“Lady Y/N is right,” Lilyan agreed firmly. “Besides, I believe that just as many will be departing King’s Landing as those arriving. Ser Royce, for example. I heard Lord Boremond ordered his grandson to depart for Storm’s End by next week.”

You eyes flickered over to Princess Rhaenyra upon the mentioning of Ser Royce’s name.

But Princess Rhaenyra was a good actress. A great one, even. There was absolutely no indication that there was any particular fondness between the Heir to the Iron Throne and the future Heir to Storm’s End.

But you knew there was.

Since the tourney in celebration of Princess Helaena’s second name day, Ser Royce had stayed in the capital city. His grandsire, Lord Boremond, in accordance with his father, Lord Borros, had asked the King if he would be willing to host Ser Royce for a time, hoping that it would enable the young lord to become better acquainted with the business dealings of his House that he would be expected to manage one day. As Lord Boremond had been blessed with longevity, and his son, Lord Borros, was also of good health, Ser Royce had not received the same guidance and tutorage he otherwise would have. But should anything happen to Lord Boremond or Lord Borros, Ser Royce would have to rise to the occasion.

King Viserys agreed to Lord Boremond’s request, and he, Ser Royce, and Princess Rhaenyra had spent quite some time discussing trade to and from the Stormlands over the past few months.

You supposed that’s where the fondness began for Princess Rhaenyra. Whatever it had started as, you suspected that the relationship between the Princess and Ser Royce had developed beyond what one might expect between a future monarch and a future lord pledged to them.

But that was entirely speculation. Princess Rhaenyra knew how grave even a whisper of such insinuations would be. You doubted she would be willing to take the chance of causing such stirrings, despite how inadequate she found certain aspects of her marriage to be.

And when the babe was born with the silvery white Targaryen hair, you would happily wallow in your guilt for ever having doubted the Princess for even a moment.

“It’s about time,” Eyla declared. “He has been in King’s Landing for months… How many trade details could there possibly have been to discuss?”

The Princess looked suddenly alert upon the other young woman’s quandary, but you intervened, knowing that she was not likely to.

“The Stormlands have many forests,” you reminded Lady Eyla tactfully. “Ser Royce has been overseeing the wood traded to the Crownlands throughout the winter. But now that spring has arrived, he is able to return home.”

Lady Eyla accepted your answer on the surface, but there was a small look on her face that suggested she didn’t entirely believe you, or perhaps, merely found your answer dissatisfactory.

“Good day, Your Grace, Sisters… My Lady.”

The four of you looked up at the sound of a fifth voice joining you.

“Ser Harwin!” Princess Rhaenyra greeted, putting the candied lemons she had in her hand back onto the serving dish. “It is a lovely day. Perhaps you would care to join us?”

The clothes and armor your husband wore suggested to you that Harwin had just come from the training yard. Confirming your suspicions was the fact that part of his hair was tied up and away from his face, which would have granted him better visibility. Despite his nickname of Breakbones, it still surprised you just how natural the ensemble looked on him. Some men had the appearance that suggested they were more fitted to scholarly pursuits, but not Harwin.

The gods could mourn that someone of his size, stature, and strength was not likely to ever see true war in his lifetime. But you would not. Just the thought of watching your husband ride off into battle was almost too painful to imagine.

“It is a lovely day, Your Grace,” Harwin affirmed. “Though, I regret that I must decline your invitation to partake in it.”

“Oh?”

“Might I be granted permission to steal my wife away for a short stroll?” Harwin asked Princess Rhaenyra. His eyes finally landed on you, and when they did, a conspiring smile played on his lips.

“Granted permission?” Princess Rhaenyra echoed. “No- I insist!” She turned to you with a knowing look. “Go now, Y/N. Take a stroll with your husband on this fine day… So that I may live vicariously through you.”

Despite your marriage to Harwin, Princess Rhaenyra still found plenty of amusement in forcing you to spend quality time with your husband. Had she not been destined to rule the Seven Kingdoms one day, you ventured to dare whether she would have had a propensity for matchmaking.

“Very well, Your Grace,” you complied, rising from your seat and walking over to your husband.

“And take your time!” Lady Lilyan called from behind you, causing Lady Eyla and Princess Rhaenyra to giggle.

Harwin ignored them, though without having taken offense, and offered you his arm. You took it, and the two of you walked away, waiting until you were out of earshot of the other women before speaking.

“It is a lovely day,” you noted conversationally.

“Yes,” Harwin agreed readily. “Though not as lovely as you.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, and tightened your grip on his arm. “You have already won my hand, Dearest. There is little need for such flattery.”

“And yet, you are no less deserving of compliments simply because we are wed,” Harwin challenged playfully. “Aye, I am your Husband now. But that means that I am the only one who is properly allowed to bestow such words upon you.” He sighed then, and the gesture bordered on being dramatic. But you knew it was merely a jest. “It is a heavy burden, ensuring that you are showered with such praise, but it is one that I chose to bear...”

You rolled your eyes at his antics and lightly slapped his arm in mock discipline. Before you could chide him, your eyes widened in surprise as you passed a familiar face along the garden path. “Ah, My Lord!”

Your cousin, Lord Garrett Redwyne, greeted both you and Harwin with a pleasant smile and cordial nod.

“Do my eyes deceive me, or is that really you?” you teased him. “I heard you had arrived at the Red Keep a few days past, and yet, as you did not pay me a visit, I did not dare to believe it.”

Garrett gave you a sheepish smile, and bore your jibes good-naturedly. “My sincerest apologies, dear Cousin. I had some urgent business to attend to upon my arrival, though calling upon you was the next very thing I planned to see through.”

That was not surprising to you. Garrett, a son of your late father’s sister, was the second son of his family. As such, Garrett had frequently been charged to act as an envoy on behalf of many Redwyne matters across the Reach and Crownlands. Though only a few years your senior, it was indisputable that Garrett was far more-traveled, and you’d always looked forward to his tales at family gatherings for that very purpose.

“No apologies needed, Cousin,” you assured him truthfully, before looking up at Harwin with a hopeful look in your eyes. “Though, should you still feel the need to make amends, perhaps you would care to dine with us some evening before you depart for the Arbor?”

“Well,” your cousin began hesitantly, eyeing Harwin somewhat nervously, “if you insist…”

It was no secret to you that Garrett was frightened of your husband. Perhaps it was Harwin’s rather notorious nickname that put fear into the young lord’s mind. But his fear was unwarranted. You enjoyed your cousin’s company, and were even closer with his mother, who had acted as a mother figure for you throughout your life.

As long as Garrett did not cross you, he had no reason to fear Harwin. And Harwin was aware of your cousin’s reservations, too. He’d done his best at the wedding feast to reassure Garrett that he was not the monster his nickname suggested, but it had all been to little avail. At least Garrett had seemed to get along well with Harwin’s younger brother, Lord Larys.

Still, your husband was not one to be defeated so easily. Harwin gave your cousin his most approachable smile, and confirmed, “We insist, My Lord. It would be an honor to share your company.”

You couldn’t tell if Lord Garrett was affected by Harwin’s effort to appease him, as he made no facial or verbal acknowledgement of it. Instead, your cousin gave you one last smile, before heading about his way. As he passed you, he said, “We shall work out the details of when at a later time, so that may leave the two of you to your stroll. Good day to you, Cousin… Ser Harwin.”

Your cousin all but scurried off into the gardens along the path from whence you and Harwin had just come. You fought the urge to laugh as your focus returned to your husband, and why he had decided to “steal” you away from Princess Rhaenyra and his sisters a short while ago.

“Now, my dear Husband, what is it that you wish to speak with me about?”

“My father has suggested two more men. I was hoping to hear your thoughts about them?”

“Of course. Whom did he name?”

“Lord Graige of House Graceford and Lord Cerran of House Leygood.”

You frowned involuntarily, though quickly recovered, hoping to spare Harwin further cause for concern. “Lord George Graceford is known to be quite cruel… though perhaps his son has learned from his father’s misgivings. And as for Lord Cerran, I’m afraid I have not heard much about him… Though, perhaps no news is good news?”

Harwin hung his head in dismay.

Lord Lyonel Strong had been more proactive in seeking matches for his two daughters as of late. With your upcoming visit to the Reach, the Lord Hand had begun to look into eligible lords from your homeland, with the hopes that you might be able to arrange a meeting between them and his daughters. Though Harwin was less than thrilled with the idea in general, you were honored when your Good Father had asked for your advice on the matter. You’d come to love Lady Lilyan and Lady Eyla as younger sisters of your own, and you loathed the idea of them being wedded off to less-than-honorable men.

You patted Harwin’s arm reassuringly. “Do not fret. I trust that you and your father will find a more than suitable match for each of your sisters.”

“Are we certain they must marry at all?” Harwin questioned, only half-seriously.

“Gods forbid, what if something should happen to you and the Lord Hand?” you proposed. “You will have wished your sisters were married then. Their husbands will see that they are well taken care of. They will be safe and secure, and have households of their own to run, instead of being resigned to your father’s.”

“But Larys-”

“I know you love your brother, but Larys would have his hands full simply by inheriting your family’s seat and lordship. Would it be kind to worsen his burden by forcing him to secure matches for his sisters as well?”

Harwin fell silent, knowing that you made several valid points. Though he adored his sisters, and was fiercely protective of them, he was aware of the reality of their situations. He had a castle and title of his own to inherit someday; his sisters were not so fortunate.

You stood on your toes, and placed a chaste, comforting kiss upon his cheek. “I know your father would only agree to marriages for your sisters with fine, decent men. And, if those men are from Houses in the Reach, we would be able to visit your sisters as often as you’d like whenever we are in Highgarden.”

Harwin’s spirits were immediately uplifted at the idea of that.

“My Lady!”

Harwin came to a stop, as did you, at the sight of a messenger headed your way with the utmost haste. When the young man finally reached you, you noticed he was rather disheveled, and nearly out of breath. He heaved heavily, attempting to recompose himself.

“Gods,” Harwin frowned, very concerned. “What is the matter?”

“There was a raven from Highgarden, My Lord.”

It was your turn to frown, though yours was out of confusion. “Already?”

Your last correspondence to your brother, Lord Derron Tyrell, had been sent by raven just a few days before. Hardly enough time had passed for him to have received your letter and returned his response.

The messenger dug into his coat, and revealed the small scroll of a message.

Your eyes glazed over the scroll, awaiting in the messenger’s open palm, before raising to his face. The young man’s expression was a sorrowful one.

Your gut sank.

“What is it?” you demanded, in as level a tone as you could manage.

The messenger said nothing, and merely held out the scroll to you even further with a pained look in his eyes.

Another chill wind blew through the air. Though spring was on the precipice, it seemed that winter was still desperately trying to cling on. You weren’t displeased with it, despite the lovely day you’d experienced several days before.

The colder weather was far more attuned to your mood.

You and your husband’s shared quarters, which had once felt alive with joy and love, now felt cold and empty. But then again, the whole world felt that way.

You sat at the small table in silence. A grand view of the setting sun over King’s Landing was visible from the balcony, which was only a short ways away, but you couldn't find the strength to venture out there yourself. Besides, you could see it all well enough from where you sat.

The soft shuffling of armor and rustling of a cloak could be heard in the background. The noises gradually grew louder, and suddenly, you realized the bearer of both was now standing behind you.

“I must go now,” Harwin informed you, speaking softly.

Normally, you would bid him the warmest of farewells, and make him promise to keep himself safe. Though Harwin was no stranger to the streets of King’s Landing, every night he had to depart for his rounds for the City Watch, you feared greatly for his safety.

But that night, you said nothing. Though you wanted to, you feared what your voice would sound like. Disuse and sorrow would have wreaked havoc upon it. As it was, you could not even bring yourself to look at him. He’d been so patient with you… But you couldn’t help but feel as though he deserved a wife who was able to pull herself together more quickly.

You could tell Harwin was waiting on a response. Though your eyes were fixed over the city, you offered him a small nod in compromise.

You half-expected him to leave without another word, and confirm your worries that he was beginning to pull away from you.

But Harwin’s fingers suddenly brushed across your neck. The gesture would have normally made you shiver from another feeling altogether, but this time, it made you shiver from surprise. He silently adjusted the black shawl you hadn’t even realized had fallen to rest up and over your shoulders once more. Once he was satisfied that you were better protected from the chill, he moved to rest his hands upon your shoulders. The gesture was hardly an embrace, but it still left you feeling protected. Loved.

Harwin leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to your temple. As he withdrew his hands, he suggested gently, “Try to get some rest, My Love. I shall be back in the morning.”

With those last words, your husband walked across the room and exited your chambers. The door shut softly behind him, but once he was gone, you felt no more relief.

You would not be getting any rest.

Your brother was gone.

Between your fits over mourning over the past few days, your mind tore itself apart with questions. How does a young man in perfectly good health be so abruptly struck down by some sickness?

When your father had taken ill, you had a far easier time making sense of it. Your father, though he was not what you would have considered to be old, had lived a large part of his life. He’d gotten married, had children, and served your House, the Reach, and the realm dutifully. But your brother…

The maesters thought it was odd, but seeing as Derron had passed in his sleep, and that your brother was loved by most who knew him, they did not look into the nature of his death any further. You wished that they had, so that you could reassure yourself that nothing foul had been amiss, but you’d lost your chance. The silent sisters would have already begun to see to him by now.

Derron was but a young man, only a few years older than you. He had just inherited your father’s seat, and was robbed of the time he deserved to fully grow into the role and make it in his own right. He had no children. He wasn’t even wed.

You frowned even deeper.

The thought of Lady Cerelle, whom, despite the lack of an official betrothal, you knew cared for your brother so very deeply, disturbed you. How was she taking the news? … You dared to wonder if, had she been present, you might be able to offer comfort to each other in this difficult time.

…

Sometime later, there was a knock on the door.

Despite the fact that you would much rather be silent in the hopes that whoever it was would assume you were not there, you knew that it would be futile. Word about your brother’s passing had spread quickly throughout the Red Keep. If you were not seen out and about, it could only be assumed that you confined yourself to your chambers.

Princess Rhaenyra had visited you several times already, offering her kind words. Though you wanted to be alone, you had to admit that her presence offered you some peace. You were heartened that the woman you had been chosen to serve had become more of a companion to you than you would have ever dared to hope for.

The fact that it was most likely Princess Rhaenyra knocking on the door now encouraged you to call out, “Come in.”

The door to your chambers opened, and closed a moment later. The entrant was silent, but you heard their gentle footsteps upon the stone floor as they approached you from behind.

“Cousin.”

At this, you finally tore your eyes away from the city.

Lord Garrett looked down upon you with sympathy. He was donned in black doublet, and matching trousers. You weren’t sure if you took comfort in the knowledge that you were not alone in your grief, or if it was just a painful reminder of the loss that you both suffered.

Slowly, your cousin took a seat in the chair opposite of you. He looked upon you carefully for a few moments, before saying, “I apologize for not calling upon you sooner. I suspected you might have wanted some time alone.”

A correct assumption. Your focus had returned to the view of King’s Landing.

“I wanted to offer you my deepest condolences for the loss of Lord Derron,” Garrett continued, not dissuaded at all by your lack of response. “My cousin was a great man, and he will be deeply missed.”

Still, you said nothing.

“It is a small blessing that we are here, in King’s Landing, together. At the very least, perhaps we may take comfort in one another.”

At this, you turned your head and gave your cousin a blank look. After a moment, you let out a single, dry laugh.

Your cousin gave you a small smile, evidently relieved to have finally gotten some sort of response out of you.

Now that he had your attention, you inquired, “What brings you here, Cousin?”

Garrett’s smile faltered. “I would have called upon you sooner,” he repeated carefully, “but I wanted to give you a few days of reprieve.” He pursed his lips, clearly deciding how best to phrase his next words. “Though I wish to be delicate at this time, there is a pressing matter that I wanted to discuss with you.”

Ah, of course, you realized. “You are more than welcome to travel with myself and my husband back to Highgarden for my brother’s service, My Lord. The rest of your family may meet us there, if they wish. I shall be happy to see them.”

Garret’s lips twitched uncomfortably. “While that is a generous offer, and one I shall seriously consider, that is not the matter of which I speak.”

“Oh… Then what is it, Cousin?”

Guilt, pity, and a sense of resolve twisted upon Lord Garrett’s face, which resulted in a very conflicted expression. Your entire focus was upon him now, and you were greatly intrigued by whatever subject he had deemed pressing enough to visit you at this late hour of the night.

“I have requested an audience with King Viserys and the small council. I plan to petition them to declare myself as Derron’s legal heir. This would encompass my inheritance of the lordship’s titles, entitlement to Highgarden, and all of House Tyrell’s other holdings.”

…

Your mind went blank.

Your father had been Lord of Highgarden. You had just come around to processing and accepting the reality that your brother was Lord of Highgarden now… or, was. Having anyone else, no matter the individual, assume their place felt… wrong.

In the middle of grieving the loss of Derron, you had somehow overlooked the daunting question that his passing had left. Who was to inherit your family’s seat?

Your cousin was unbothered by your silence. In fact, he seemed to interpret it for his own purposes. “I hope you can forgive me for speaking of such a trivial matter at this time, but, as I said, I do believe this to be a pressing matter.”

You were too stunned to speak.

“I have seen how well married life treats you, My Lady,” Lord Garrett said then, his tone shifting from apologetic to persuasive. “I would not wish to burden you with the responsibilities that plagued your father and brother. If it is your desire, I shall take up lordship of Highgarden, as our grandsire once did, and spare you from any further distress. You and Ser Harwin shall be free to travel the realm as you please, without the weight of responsibility bearing down heavily upon you… Of course, I give you my word that you shall be well taken care of. Any allowances for you currently in existence shall not cease, and, should you require funding for anything else in your lifetime, you would need only to ask it of me.”

Still trying to make sense of anything and everything that Lord Garrett was alluding to, you pursed your lips.

“The meeting with the King and small council is in two days,” he informed you then. “Though you are welcome to attend, that will not be necessary. Your absence will be understood as support of my claim. I am sure everyone will understand your wish to mourn privately.”

Your brows furrowed as your mind began to race.

Lord Garrett took that as his having been dismissed. He rose from his seat, and placed a comforting hand on your shoulder as he passed. “I bid you a good night, Cousin. Fear not, these dark times shall pass.”

Once the door to your chambers closed behind him, you cursed.

The sound of birds chirping filled your ears.

The opening and closing of the chamber doors, followed by quickened footsteps, stirred you.

But it was the sound of your extremely concerned husband that completely woke you.

“Gods, Y/N!” he muttered, though it was loud enough for you to catch in the otherwise silent room.

You forced our eyes open, lifted up your head, and looked about your surroundings. But as you did so, you winced in pain. You very quickly realized that you had fallen asleep right there, still seated at the table in front of the balcony.

Harwin was at your side immediately. As he was still wearing his armor and gold cloak, you knew he had only just arrived back from his watch. Despite his evident tiredness, the concern in his eyes shone through, making you feel more guilty than you already did.

After rising from your seat with a small pained groan, Harwin offered you support immediately. His hands fell to your waist, and he slowly maneuvered you away from the table and chair.

As he gently guided you across the room, he asked, “Were seated there the whole night?” One of his hands rose, and he pressed it softly upon your forehead and cheeks. “Gods, you’re chilled!”

He was probably right. And though your guilt had begun to eat away at you, there was something more pressing. “We need to talk.”

Harwin, though he had always been courteous to you, had grown impatient, and he was forced to put his foot down. “Whatever it is, we can discuss it later, My Love. For now, you need to rest,” he insisted. His tone left little room for argument as he continued to lead you over towards your shared bed. Then he added, “Proper rest.”

You shook your head in protest, though allowed him to seat you upon the mattress nonetheless. “No, it cannot wait. It is about my cousin.”

“Lord Garrett?” After Harwin was satisfied that you were not going to move from your spot, he turned and walked over towards the fireplace. Once there, he added a few more logs to the dying fire. As he began to stir the flames, he asked, “What of him?”

“He wants the lordship.”

Harwin froze.

When he said nothing, you turned over your shoulder to look at him. He turned away from the fire and headed back over towards you slowly, looking as though he didn’t understand, or perhaps hadn’t quite heard, what you had said.

“Forgive me, My Love… What did you say?”

“He wants Highgarden, the titles, the coffers… everything. He is going to petition the King and the small council to be declared my brother’s legal heir.”

A mixed array of emotions flooded your husband’s face. Before you could think of your next words, several knocks sounded on the door.

You attempted to rise, but Harwin was already on the move. As he passed, he calmly gestured at you to stay put. “Rest.”

You did as he bid. Rest finally was beginning to sound like an appealing option. Now that you had confided to Harwin about the matter that had kept you awake most of the night, you could afford a few hours of sleep.

Harwin answered the door, opening it just far enough for you to catch a glimpse of who it was.

Lady Bethany Hightower, the Queen’s cousin, and also, one of her ladies in waiting.

“Forgive me for the early hour, My Lord.”

“What can I assist you with, Lady Bethany?”

“The Queen has requested an audience with Lady Y/N.”

Harwin hesitated. With one hand resting upon the door, he looked over his shoulder towards you. You weren’t sure what your expression conveyed- it could have been tiredness, distaste, or even fear.

Whatever it was, your husband interpreted it well enough. Harwin turned back to face the Queen’s cousin with purpose. “I’m afraid My Lady Wife is resting. As she has just lost her dear brother not but a few days past, I am sure the Queen can understand why her request must be denied at this time.”

“She understands, My Lord,” Lady Bethany claimed, “But she still insists upon an audience with Lady Y/N at once.”

You could see the muscles along your husband’s back and shoulders tense, despite the armor and cloak that covered them.

“Very well,” he said, through slightly gritted teeth. “I shall accompany her then.”

“The Queen wishes to speak with Lady Y/N alone,” Lady Bethany protested disapprovingly.

“And she shall,” Harwin promised haughtily. “The Queen may command me to leave a room in order for her to speak with my wife alone. But she shall not forbid me from waiting for her just outside the door, nor from walking her through the halls, for only Lady Y/N may command that of me.”

Once you knew that it was inevitable, you rose from the bed, and put on your best face to disguise your true fatigue. “Come now, Dearest,” you told Harwin sweetly, placing a light hand on his arm as you approached him. You gave Lady Bethany a stiff nod in greeting. You looked up at Harwin and stated airily, “We mustn't keep the Queen waiting.”

A/N: Thank you for reading! TO BE CONTINUED in Part 2, which is planned to be posted on Thursday 10/20.🖤🖤🖤

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