#anyway. he was called 'the handsomest man in the kingdom'

[fideidefenswhore]

Until December 1529 the king continued to hold the title of the Irish and English earldoms of Ormond in his gift. Then, however, Henry moved to appoint Anne Boleyn's father, Thomas Boleyn, the 'new' earl of Ormond. He also resurrected the old title, earl of Wiltshire, which had been discontinued after the execution in 1461 of James Butler, fifth Earl of Ormond.

Aristocratic Women in Ireland, 1450-1660: The Ormond Family, Power and Politics, by Damien Duffy

[fuckingfinwions]

#3 russingon au? 👀👀👀

(from this)

Prince Fingon is about to come of age.

Feanor is a blacksmith (not anyone related to the king) in the small town of Formenos.

A royal messenger comes to the town to look over all the unmarried boys of appropriate age range as a potential private companion for the prince.

Maedhros, Maglor, and Celegorm are all about the right age, though Celegorm is on the young end and deliberately sabotages his chances because a palace sounds stuffy.

The messenger looks everyone over and asks some questions. Maedhros and a couple of the others also get asked if they have all their teeth, if they ever had the pox and if it scarred. Then the messenger rides away and that’s it for a while.

They don’t forget about it, because Feanor rants at dinner about how the royals do nothing and steal the work of honest men in taxes and now want to steal their children, but it’s not on the top of anyone’s mind.

There’s a lot of boys in the village, and though Maedhros is aware that he’s the handsomest of them, there’s a lot of villages in the kingdom.

It’s a month later when the messenger comes back, this time knocking on Feanor’s front door.

Maedhros is to go to the capital city and meet Crown Prince Fingolfin. If Fingolfin approves of him when they meet in person, Maedhros will become Prince Fingon’s private companion. If Fingolfin doesn’t approve, Maedhros will be sent back.

Maedhros kind of wishes he didn’t have to go be a glorified personal prostitute, but it’s a great opportunity. He’ll be in the capital with it’s libraries and art and people from all over. He probably won’t be allowed to talk to anyone important, but still it’s amazing.

And there’s not a whole lot keeping hm back at home. He’s competent in the forge and can make horseshoes and such, but not especially talented, and Caranthir is old enough to be a proper apprentice. He’s not dating anyone, and though he’ll miss his family he doesn’t have any very close friends

Sidenote: In the upper class, there is a very strong emphasis on heterosexual-virginity before marriage, and monogamy during marriage until you have at least three undisputed children, to ensure inheritance. In the lower class and outside the capital, it’s more common for teenagers to have bit of fun, and if you need to marry in a hurry because someone got pregnant so it goes. (This is apparently a not-elves au).

The messenger says that he’ll bring by the carriage for the journey to the capital in the morning, Maedhros can have a day to pack and say his goodbyes.

Feanor is not happy with this, even though it’s “temporary” and Maedhros will go back home once the prince marries in 5-10 years. 

Maedhros knows that pointing out that Feanor legally has to let him go will not make things better. There’s a lot of arguing, and Maedhros is able to mostly focus on what his free time might be like rather than what his new job will be.

(And Maedhros knows that if he admits he doesn’t want to go in Feanor’s hearing, Feanor will do whatever it takes to make sure it doesn’t have to. It’s nice to know his father cares, but it means he doesn’t say any of his doubts or even fully articulate them to himself.)

So in the morning Maedhros has a couple of apple crates full of his things and gets in the carriage.

He has a lot of time to think about what this will be like. Maedhros has heard that King Finwe is tall with dark hair, maybe Prince Fingon will look like that? (And should Maedhros call Prince Fingon by his title or just his name? Would it be seen as unbearably rude to forgo the title, or horrendously stilted to use it during sex?)

Maedhros has wondered what sex with another man would be like, but a reputation for it in his town would mean he might never marry and be alone forever.

Other things Maedhros knows about the royal family: all of Feanor’s anti-government rants. Fingon is the oldest prince. The cobbler two villages over traveled to the capital to visit her aunt, and said the princes were tall and had clothes woven out of silver instead of cotton.

Maedhros knows that the prince will of course be ugly and lazy, never having to work a day in his life, but someone nearly as tall as him would be nice.

“How old is Prince Fingon?”

The messenger looks at Maedhros like he’s an idiot.

“It’s two months until his seventeenth birthday. That’s why you’re here, to be his companion and be a good place for him to direct his adult urges as he comes of age.”

“I knew that, I just wasn’t sure when exactly he was considered of age.”

“The royal family doesn’t live their years any faster or slower than you do, kid.”

“I’m just not used to it being sudden. In Formenos, you don’t marry until you can support a house together, unless she gets pregnant in which case you build a cabin in one of your fathers’ yards and live off them until you’re ready.”

“The Prince is too young to marry, hence finding him someone to have fun with.”

“Of course.” Maedhros keeps quiet for the rest of the carriage ride so he doesn’t look like a complete fool. (Whether or not he wants to do this, he’s too proud to not try his best.)

They reach the capital, and there’s enough notice for Maedhros to change into his best clothes. He wore them to the festival this spring, the bright red tunic has flowers embroidered along not just the neckline most of the chest and stars on the sleeves.

Maedhros is expecting to be outclassed by Crown Prince Fingolfin, of course, but he might as well but on his best clothes.

Fingolfin is wearing a simple chain necklace made of more gold than Maedhros has ever seen in one place, even as a smith’s son. The shirt behind it isn’t embroidered, someone actually wove the cloth out of different colors of thread so it fades from an indigo near Fingolfin’s face through to a blue and then near turquoise at the hem.

Fingolfin calls Maedhros’s attire ‘rustic’ and asks him a few questions, though most of them have already been covered by the messengers.

Fingolfin then says he’ll make his decision in the next few days, there’s a temporary room for Maedhros in the servants quarters. He’ll be brought his meals, and shouldn’t go wandering (Fingon isn’t supposed to see his private companion until his birthday, it would spoil the surprise of his present.) And does Maedhros have any requests of Prince Fingolfin?

Maedhros asks if there’s a book of court etiquette he could study, either in his rooms or escorted to the library? “I know that of course I won’t take part, but as a private companion I’m supposed to be whatever Prince Fingon wants. If he wants to talk about his day sometimes, I'm sure he’d rather do so without spending hours explaining the context.”

Fingolfin asks, “So you’re not trying to learn the rules so that Fingon doesn’t punish you for misbehavior?”

“If Prince Fingon wishes to punish me for any reason, I of course will obey. But I have no desire to behave in ways he would find unpleasant.”

Fingolfin nods and waves a hand for Maedhros to leave. Maedhros does, and a few hours later one of the servants brings by a book of etiquette. It’s aged with a cracked spine, as new books are even more valuable, but it was obviously replaced in the royal library for datedness or cosmetic reasons, not readability. This copy is one the palace steward uses for reference.

There’s nothing else for Maedhros to do, so he reads it cover to cover. (He can do arithmetic too, they’re useful skills in the forge.)

Fingolfin decides on Maedhros. He’s pretty and polite and articulate, and not one of the sons of a half-dozen merchant families that are trying to get an avenue to the royal palace. Friends with the future king is nothing to sneeze at, even if it’s a degrading sort of friendship.

So the night of Prince Fingon’s seventeenth birthday, Maedhros is waiting for him. He’s dressed in a dark brown tunic that Fingolfin selected to make Maedhros’s fair skin not look washed out, and red leggings to match his hair. His hair is in one long braid, so it can just as easily be out of the way or used as a leash. He’s not wearing any underclothes, and he opened up and oiled his asshole so that Fingon can take him immediately if Fingon wants. He’s nervous, and kneels by the door to wait.

He waits rather a long time actually, and eventually concludes that it won’t be too presumptuous to sit on a stool, as long as he gets up immediately when Prince Fingon enters.

In the mean time, Maedhros thinks. They say everything in the capital city is politics. Maedhros himself would never leave a new.., acquaintance to wait by accident, especially not as a first impression. Prince Fingon is obviously setting the tone for the next several years with Maedhros. Maedhros has to be where he's told and do what he’s told, and Fingon will acknowledge him only when the prince feels like it.

Maedhros figures he’ll know more when the prince show up, if he bothers to thank Maedhros for waiting or if he’ll go straight to removing clothes.

Fingon is not actually thinking about any of this. It’s his coming of age! There’s a feast and dancing and drinking and all his friends and the whole focus of the night is on him. He knows he’s getting a private companion, but Fingolfin hasn’t given any hints about what exactly they’ll look like and Fingon has a lot of other presents right in front of him.

Fingon doesn’t worry about the hypothetical private companion’s comfort, because this is the palace, it’s got to be better than wherever the guy came from. Whoever it is can relax on a feather bed for possibly the first time ever and eat fancy food rather than plain bread, Fingon arriving a few hours earlier or later will make no difference.

Fingon is Nice, and is used to people knowing that. If everyone knows you’re a nice person, they give you the benefit of the doubt that thoughtlessness was not malice, and inattentiveness was not disrespect.

People have been telling Maedhros that Fingon is nice, but he expects they’d tell him that anyway. Everyone wants Maedhros to please Fingon after all, so they’ll frame everything the best way possible. They also say Fingon is determined, which Maedhros interprets as ��never listened to the word no in his life”.

It doesn’t matter, Maedhros reminds himself, because saying no would be illegal anyway. If Fingon is the type to just push past that if Maedhros is not in the mood, it’s better than being thrown in the dungeons.

Eventually Fingon comes back to his bedroom.

[wincore]

moonlight child | jung yoonoh

pairing: jaehyun x reader

words: 7.5k

genre: prince!au, fantasy, medieval, fluff

warnings: there’s some uhhhhh pining

a/n: this is my first fic after a while and it might be a little rusty but i hope it’s still fun to read ^^ 

There are times when you might as well believe the rumours surrounding the prince, and there are times you think the kingdom doesn’t know their prince at all.

The first time you met Jung Jaehyun, under the autumn sunlight, it was probably a strange way to meet the prince. No older than nine, you had invested in your first crime of sneaking into the royal garden. The school was supposed to take you the day after on a tour anyway, but you’d miss the fun of climbing a tree and tumbling over a hedge to get your illicit joy. The first time you met Jung Jaehyun, he still had baby fat on his cheeks, he was half inside a pile of autumn leaves and his ears were strangely red after being stumbled upon by an unexpected visitor.

He had stared at you with mute horror and a dash of rose across his cheeks that afternoon. The prince succumbing to the urge of jumping into a pile of leaves? Now that’s something hilarious the town kids would love to hear about. He had stammered his words into what was supposed to be threatening, although you only remember a meek ‘don’t laugh at me’, and the day was sunnier all of a sudden.

It’s not like you had any reason to be there either, but you momentarily forgot the legality of your actions.

“It’s fun, isn’t it?” you said with a laugh.

The prince stood there frozen up until you came closer and jumped in too, sending the rest of the leaves flying everywhere.

“Who- who are you?” The prince manged to ask. “You’re not supposed to be here, you know.”

You scoffed. “Why can’t I? The earth belongs to me!”

“Well, that…doesn’t…make a lot of sense,” he responded, his voice still quiet. “Are you a God?”

“No, I’m not. But we can pretend I am.”

He narrows his eyes at you. “I don’t get it.”

“It’s okay, it takes time to understand.”

It took you a while to understand too why Jaehyun couldn’t come play with you. Ah, but you compromised. If Jaehyun couldn’t come play with you, you’d just go and play with him.

Now that you think about it, he’s a little bit of an idiot sometimes—but more importantly, he’s a decisively good person. You don’t get to see him often these days but he smiles as kind as ever with every greeting to man, woman and child in the city as he walks through the streets. You know he’d rather walk the empty streets at night, though. But he’s a prince—and a prince loved by all, at that. It’s impossible to not see a perfect child of the universe.

You smile thinking of him. Even when he sneaks out at your demands, he says there wasn’t anything important, that he’s a prince, not a God. He’s never blamed you for the scolding or the punishments he’s received for running away. It’s good to have a best friend but a friend locked in castle walls? Times get difficult.

You sigh. There’s work to do and you’re not the only one daydreaming of the prince in this kingdom.

The prince who they say is the handsomest of all kingdoms with moonlight kissing his skin, the prince who is blessed with refined words and the grace of Heaven, the centre of attention in any ballroom or meeting room, the prince who they say has rejected countless marriage proposals from far, holding onto his own dreams for the kingdom. You cringe at the wildly exaggerated rumours. You believe he can’t possibly have a say in those matters but what do you know the troubles of the rich and the royal?

You can’t deny the rumours around Jaehyun talk of him as some sort of hero, though. You ought to let everyone know, you did the heroism back in the days.

You shake your head. Forget the memories for now.

Working at an orphanage isn’t ideal for pay, but boy, do you have fun here. Everyone grows up and they suddenly forget the forests they played hide and seek in, the apples they stole from their neighbour, the freedom of a run. The children here are more than cheerful, even the older kids, unafraid of never finding a family. In a way, you’re already a sort of family (although, when it comes to Jisung and Chenle, it’s more like you’ve adopted two demons).

“The palace?” you grimace, thinking about all the workers you’ve encountered sneaking in. “They’re a bunch of snobs. Why would anyone work there?”

“Oh, but think about it,” Jinhee continues, “I heard the staff there don’t have to work more than three hours a day…and they get the weekend off.”

The laundry room of the orphanage is a little stuffy when there are more than three people inside. You adjust your collar absentmindedly, your eyes traveling to the windows that give you a clear view of the castle.

To call it just a castle is an understatement. The beauty of it is unique in its own; navy blue tops and purple flags lined with golden ink dancing in the wind, the bricks making up a structure so gorgeous you forget the simple material it’s made of. The castle is especially beautiful against coffee skies, pleasant to look at on your way back home to the top of the short hill. In a way, it’s just like the prince, with his face blessed by the Gods and an inside no one seems to figure out.

“No way,” you reply, “That huge old thing needs to be dusted every day. No wonder they hire so many. Sounds like such a chore.”

Jinhee rolls her eyes. “They’re hiring again next week. I’m thinking of joining.”

You pause to let the words sink in.

“What?!” Your voice calls for the attention of some other orphanage workers, who aren’t too happy at the disturbance. After two or three glares, they leave with the rest of the laundry, you and Jinhee alone again.

“Don’t yell!” she lowers her voice a notch.

“What do you mean you’re joining? You’re leaving?”

“Not quite…I’m trying for a part-time during the weekends.”

“Jinhee,” you frown, “I can’t believe you’d betray us like that.”

“Oh, stop being dramatic,” she retorts, “Besides, I could do with a better pay.”

Well, if she wanted better pay, she could always go back to the Black Dragon’s Inn. You remember all the fun you had working there, and although the innkeeper was a man of many strange habits, it was a lovely place to work in, atop one of the small hills surrounding the city. No wonder the wealthiest come to stay there, and of course, your wage there had been the highest ever. You’d find any excuse to work in such a place again, if it weren’t for the joy of the orphanage.

However, life is a little bit more complicated than you’d think.

“Me? What are you, an idiot?”

“Oh come on, (name),” Jinhee pleads, “Just for tomorrow. Or maybe a week.”

“Identity theft is illegal.”

She rolls her eyes. “It’s not like you’ve never done anything illegal.”

“I am a saint. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Thanks for saying that. I actually keep a list. When we were eleven—”

“Okay, so I just have to pretend to be you and join, right?”

“Yep. You’re the best, (name). Thanks!”

You kick the stone by the entrance, the iron gates glimmering under the sunlight. You never thought you’d ever come inside the place through the front gates. The only time you’ve ever seen the inside is when you were teenagers. You had climbed into Jaehyun’s room in the middle of the night while he studied his books for the upcoming exams set specifically for him. You figured he could use some company. You’d been amazed by his room in itself, warm yet grand—you could fit at least five people here—and you wondered what the rest of the castle could be like. Looks like you’ll finally find out.

You feel the walk from the gate to the actual palace should not be this long, but the rich think differently, of course. The front gardens are just as pretty albeit small compared to the royal back gardens, with a certain shine to them from the direct noon sunlight. The bushes grow lush, with bright flowers and they’re trimmed to perfection, undoubtedly by some old obsessive gardener. You laugh at your own thoughts. There’s no way you’re going to have a great time today, so you might as well stock up on strength.

The interior removes the smile from your face. Rich people really do live differently.

Posh had been an understatement for this monstrosity of a palace. As rich in colour as the outside walls are, the interior is pale white marble with gold statues resting on display along the sides of the hall, pillars crafted into stories and myths of old. The ceiling is well above reach of even the tallest giants, decorated by glistening chandeliers, not very useful at this time of the day. The heels of your shoes make an unfamiliar clicking sound over the marble floor as you move forward. It’s a little chilly—these walls don’t seem to know warmth. You can’t believe Jaehyun lives here.

The end of the hallway is too far to scrutinise and the staircase on the left is wide enough to fit an artillery. The windows are on the right, taking up almost the entirety of the wall as they let in sunlight lest the place gets too stuffy. And certainly, you can’t forget the people. Jinhee wasn’t joking when she said half the townsfolk probably work here. This hallway must take up most of the energy of the cleaners.

“You must be one of the new recruits,” a lady snaps you out of your daze. Her dark blue gown is broken with a gold-strung beige hem near the neck. She keeps her head high, dark hair pinned into a bun, and her back straight—a lady, like royalty must be. She’s only the head of the cleaning staff, though, and you wonder if everyone here has been poisoned with pretentious dignity. You remember to keep your mouth shut while she gives you and the rest of the recruits the instructions to be followed.

You’re overjoyed to find your assignment to be on the first floor—anything but the main hallway sounds good to you. But the first floor isn’t exactly small either. You look around the myriad of chambers, trying to keep up with the rest of the recruits and working as efficiently as you can. It’s only a while, you remind yourself. Jinhee better treat you lavishly for this favour.

“And what’s this place supposed to be?” you mutter to yourself, approaching the surprisingly regular-sized doors of a room.

The painting of a woman in grey holding the moon in a glass container stares down at you from the doors, her parted lips as though twitching into a frown. Even the paintings here don’t welcome you, you think with a grimace. Since you had so diligently completed the dusting and sweeping of the sunroom, you had now been assigned yet another work. What happened to life being easy in the palace?

You push open the doors, rather heavy for what they look like and reel at the darkness. The curtains are drawn to choke out all sunlight, and there seems to be no one around. The feeling held by the room is something akin to one you’d find in a graveyard; souls held captive in slabs of stone, lives unheard and unlived. Perhaps you were assigned the wrong room. (You hope you were assigned the wrong room.)

You take a look around at the furniture—the room itself isn’t very big, but the shelves are fully packed with books, and the chairs are neatly arranged around the centre table, all furniture made of rosewood. There’s a giant harp at one corner, undoubtedly collecting dust for a while now. Perhaps the cleaners aren’t allowed to touch that one.

“Excuse me,” a voice interrupts your thoughts.

You turn around towards the doorway, your heart already leapt to your throat. When your eyes meet, you realize yet again how different Jaehyun looks in formal attire. Jung Jaehyun has a funny way of captivating anyone who looks at him. His eyes are the shape of almonds, your favourite during summer. His lips are soft and pursed, his features sharp and daunting and if anything, he looks as displeased as his polite disposition allows before he realizes it’s you. The royal coat accentuates his figure and he stands tall, and while you were feeling small in this castle, the prince restores part of your spirits with his presence. You turn red as he stares at you a little too long.

“Why are you here?” he whispers, quickly closing the door behind him.

“Cleaning staff,” you say. “I decided to help you royal lot out and show you how real cleaning is done.”

“No, really.” Jaehyun breaks into a smile. “Seeing your face inside this place feels different.”

“And I’ve already had enough of this place, “ you huff. “This place is way too perfect to be perfect.”

“I have no idea what means,” he says.

“You never do,” you complain. “Imperfections are what make things perfect!”

Jaehyun shakes his head. “Get on with your work. You want to go home, don’t you?”

“Don’t you shoo me away, Jung Jaehyun!”

Jaehyun laughs again, moving to grab a book and sit in his chair.

Your eyes can’t help but trail to him as you dust the shelves. The sunlight hits his face just right, his complexion warm and bright without a single flaw. His hair looks almost brown, a colour you think suits him well while his cheeks are a little rosy. The changing seasons might end up giving him the flu, you think as he sniffs twice. Despite all that, he looks like a noble. He sits leaned back, his shoulders straight and broad and his face so regal when he’s deeply focused. He holds the book at an arm’s distance, atop his crossed legs as the other hand only moves to turn the pages. There are only few moments that make you realize that your friend is indeed a prince, as royal as they come.

You realize that somewhere, somehow, that the boy who told you the names of all the plants in the garden, played tag with you on warm, windy afternoons, had grown up.

Jaehyun massages his temples, sitting alone in his private library. You could hardly call it a library, but he likes to refer to it as something of its own. It’s like his own little bubble of books and tranquillity. He doesn’t like people coming in here.

Something must have gone wrong in the heavens to make him a prince. The life of a townsperson—no, the life of someone ordinary by birth makes it so much more extraordinary for him to live. He’s not one to complain but there are days princes get tired.

Jaehyun catches a glimpse of you, almost smiling to himself. If you weren’t there, he wonders what he would have been. Would he breathe normally? Ever feel his heart beat? He wonders if you know what it’s like, to be alive and not at the same time. He wonders if he could tell you now; if he could ask to hold you, even if it’s just for a few moments. He almost blushes. The book is right in front of him yet there seem to be no words. He feels embarrassed for acting like such a lovestruck schoolboy.

Jaehyun heaves a sigh, his frown etching deeper. It’s not like you and him could ever be, as a prince and a pauper. It’s not like you’ll agree to the snobbish royalty you hate so much.

Jaehyun sighs. If a prince could truly have everything in the world, fairy tales would be true.

No, there has to be so much more than this.

For now, Jaehyun will stick to pretending he has more than what he really has. The funny thing about a job to be done is that it’s always half done when he actually decides to do it. He stands up to get to the shelf, dragging his finger across the spines of the books, the titles printed onto his brain by now.

It takes a while to feel the words. You see, when you read something over and over, you forget that the words are more than ink, that they really mean something. Jaehyun has read this one maybe a hundred times, maybe more. He hated this collection as a child, but it’s grown to be comforting.

A knock on the door startles him out of his comfort.

“Yes?” He finds his voice after a short delay.

You pop your face in, a playful smile on your face. When did you even leave? He smiles back.

“Good evening, Your Highness,” you start, your voice as snooty as possible, “Pardon me, but I’m supposed to ensure this room’s cleanliness, especially if you’re going to be…uh, spending a lot of time here.”

Jaehyun raises an eyebrow. “You are, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I just wanted to make fun of the Head of Staff.”

Jaehyun cracks a smile. “Okay, Mistress Blue, just get on with it.”

He watches you scurry around, your cleaning quick and the quiet humming to yourself sweeter than he gets to hear. He looks at you till you suddenly stop and he looks back at his book at lightning speed, immediately flustered. Was he staring? That’s incredibly careless of him.

Jaehyun peeks back at you, finding your hand holding a book, a smile on your face. Jaehyun smiles again too but he stops. He can’t be swayed that easily, can he?

He looks at you for a few moments before turning away, heart bubbling with anything but peace. How is a prince so easily disturbed, he thinks, frowning into his palm as he leans forward. It’s been a rather pensive day for him.

He gets up, adjusting his coat. He might as well retire to his bedchamber at this hour. He turns his head to find you, heart suddenly stopping. You’re dusting the higher shelves, your hand barely reaching, yet your face so determined with your set jaw and focused eyes. He wants to help, but there’s something about the way you’re posed, maybe the line of your back or the expression on your face that’s so painfully stunning. You smell of honeysuckle, flowers he planted in his garden after he took your advice (“They’re quite lovely. They grow wild near the river.” “Ah, is that so?”).

Jaehyun shakes his head.

“Let me get that for you,” he says, startling you as he takes the cloth from your hands and dusts off the top shelves.

“The prince doing cleaning?” you frown. “Mistress Blue will have my head.”

“It’s not like you’re getting the job done,” he responds.

You cross your arms. “Well, while you’re at it, fetch me a glass of water, will you?”

Jaehyun laughs. The days are getting longer in the castle.

Jung Jaehyun is still kind and sweet, and his cheeks are still dimpled. He might be a prince, but those things don’t change.

You clutch the cloth close to you as you look at the crown prince petting the horse in the stable, the animal far calmer than with you.

“Night Blossom hates being around people,” he says, his tone concerned. “I’m really sorry about this. I hope you’re not injured.”

Gods, why is he apologizing to you? The manners never leave, do they?

“Of course not!” You shake your head rapidly. “I was just surprised, that’s all. I forgot how feisty she was.”

Jaehyun smiles cheekily before leaning in. “Just like you,” he whispers, laughing when he stands back straight. You must be looking like a fool, with your cheeks radiating heat.

When did he learn to tease? It used to be just you.

You shake your head and continue walking, till you can finally look up when his back is turned to you. He looks responsible, steady, and although he’s always been an obedient child, there’s some weariness of adulthood seeped into him now. He jokes with you, but there always seems to be something on his mind. You keep your thoughts to yourself.

“Why are you here?”

“Wh…” You stop yourself when you notice the page boy in front of Jaehyun. His voice is so gentle, you wouldn’t notice he was reprimanding someone.

“You’re supposed to be in training,” Jaehyun scolds, his voice anything but angry, “Go on. You have to be there till lunchtime.”

The boy nods reluctantly, turning around with a softer frown on his face.

“The younger kids really hate training, huh?” you mutter.

“I hated training too when I was his age.”

“I know.” You take a sharp breath. “You kept crying the entire evening every time you had training.”

Jaehyun turns red. “Well, the training wasn’t… half as bad as Commander Jiu’s words.”

You nod. “I remember that too.”

Jaehyun pauses, a faraway look in his eyes as he smiles.

“Everything is hard to do the first time.”

You had said that as Jaehyun sat in front of you, too worn out to do any more playfighting with you. He was as sulky as he allowed himself to be, your hand awkwardly patting his back as you figured out a way to cheer him up.

What did she even say? You think, but you keep the words to yourself. It’s best not to remind him.

You can take a guess, though. Your friend has always been too kind to stand up as a soldier. But he’s not half as bad at evading your attacks. You could advise him but you stuck to presenting him a blueish flower you found near the waterfall that you thought was pretty.

“For me?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you responded, “You like flowers, don’t you?”

He blushes. “I like my garden, yes. It’s peaceful here.”

He cheered up quickly by evening and soon, you’d managed to make him laugh as you ran from the castle guards when they found you climbing over the wall. Jaehyun has always been merciful with a sword.

The way he looks now, though, you can’t imagine he’d be poor with a blade. You blush at the inappropriate thought flickering in your head for a moment.

Jaehyun smiles the same, dimples deep as ever—handsomer even. His voice is no longer that of a boy’s, and he sounds and looks like a man. However, he still talks like a boy sometimes, words you’ve missed hearing from him, with the familiar silence accompanying occasionally. Jaehyun hasn’t changed too much in manners or personality either.

And yet, something’s lost. He’s grown up but he’s not what he dreamed of being, you think.

When you were children, you used to sneak him out of the palace and take him all the way to the river surrounding the kingdom. He told you it’s one of the reasons the kingdom is so safe; there’s no way to enter without the bridge. You thought it was much more than that, it’s waters shining an ancient blue, something playful, something mysterious in them. You grew up with the stories of the water spirits and how they borrowed a stream of River Nami to protect this piece of land.

There used be a beloved king who lived here. When the invaders arrived and hope grew weak, his prayers for his people were heard at a cost and a ring of water encased this city. Old witches’ tales or not, Jaehyun enjoyed it just as much as you did as you sat by the edge of the waterfall spotting a few rainbow trout and enthusiastic frogs here and there, the call of birds tranquilizing. If the river didn’t protect you, the cliffs were there to help.

“So that’s why we celebrate the water festival?” Jaehyun asked.

“I don’t know about the king,” you answered, “But it’s for the water spirits. My mother says they’re kind creatures and we must always repay kindness.”

There was a short pause.

“Do you think I’m related to that king?” he asked.

“You could be,” you said, your eyes suddenly widening, “Do you think you can summon the river spirits? We should try it!”

He shook his head with a shy smile when you jumped at the idea. It was an exciting thought after all, but he never agreed to it. And eventually, you grew up.

There’s no doubt why they call this the kingdom of endless blue. The skies and the river join hands, an agreement made in old times. You’re far too dazed by the sunlight once your work at the stables is done.

“I think Night Blossom has taken a liking to you.”

You jump at Jaehyun’s voice, too lost in your thoughts.

“I cleaned her muddy hide, she better be.”

He laughs, his eyes crescents and dimples deepening. There’s a short pause as you lean back against the wooden walls.

“You’ll be there for the celebration then?” Jaehyun asks.

“The celebration?”

“The night of the water festival?”

“Oh. That’s not for two months, Jaehyun,” you laugh.

“Yeah.” He scratches the back of his head, smiling. “I was checking if you remember.”

The parades are fun, starting from the heart of the city towards the river. The food sellers hold special delicacies and the music is played by skilled musicians, music sweet enough to summon the tides. You don’t know much about the celebrations held within the castle walls but you’ve heard the King and Queen pray to the water spirits for health and prosperity, family and love.

“I don’t like praying alone at the altar,” he says, “I’d rather everyone pray with me for their own causes.”

You laugh. “I don’t suppose I’m royal enough to summon water spirits but I’ll try coming.”

Jaehyun laughs along with you as you exit and for a moment, just a moment, you want to tell him your feelings without regret.

Jaehyun sighs once he’s inside his bedroom. His heart almost gave him away in the morning. He smiles to himself thinking of your face under the sunlight, hair shimmering and eyes bright. It’s not fair. He can’t even stare without getting shy. It’s the first time in years he’s lost confidence so easily. It’s not like him.

There’s no way this could work. It’s a cruel joke life has played on him, and he let it happen.

There used to be a time, you told him, of valiant knights and powerful mages, creatures of light and dark battling for centuries. You spoke as though you knew them, as though you were the main character, the knight and the mage and the strong. You were strong and you taught him the same. So why does he lose his strength with you?

Jaehyun sighs again, now into his pillow, the air cool against his bare back. Autumn nights are the worst, he thinks. But he has promises to keep and work to get to. With that numbing thought, he lets himself drift off.

You sit with Jaehyun at the library again, spending your short break wisely. The afternoon warmth has seeped further into the room once you insisted on keeping the curtains pulled. It’s much better this way, you think.

You talk of the terrible chores you have to do at the orphanage, how it’s even harder with the kids hanging on your every movement. Jaehyun listens intently; life outside the castle has always been interesting to him. You think he should come visit sometimes.

“You love the kids, don’t you? Don’t lie—I know you like someone when you call them a rascal,” Jaehyun says, smiling through his eyes as he rests his face on his palm.

You roll your eyes. “I’ve never called you a rascal.”

“Does that mean I’m special?”

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself just because you’re a prince,” you sneer.

Jaehyun laughs, his voice heavenly. It’s no wonder all the girls in the city dream of this fairy tale prince. You curse yourself for thinking the same. You’re a friend, nothing else.

“You prepared for the water festival?” you smile. “Heard you have a big speech coming up.”

Jaehyun’s smile falls and you think you said something wrong.

“Yeah,” he says, voice strained as he gulps, looking away.

There’s a quiet moment before you interrupt it.

“I think you’ll do just fine,” you say, your voice soft.

Jaehyun looks at you for a moment with no particular expression before he looks away, his ears tinted red and a smile on his face as he scratches the back of his head.

“Thank you,” he says, not meeting your eyes.

You lean in to press a kiss on his cheeks, ignoring the warmth on yours. You finally succumbed to the raging impulse to press a kiss against those dimpled cheeks. This is perfectly fine between friends, isn’t it? Is it? Are you thinking too much? Or thinking too less?

“Good luck,” you say before you leave hurriedly, far too many terrifying thoughts filling your leave. When you sneak a look before shutting the door, you swear Jaehyun’s ears have turned a few shades brighter.

How did a kiss on the cheek rid you of your soul so easily?

“So now you’re doing it willingly?” Jinhee taps her foot against the pavement. The water festival began at the dawn and the parade starts mid-afternoon. The two of you stand in the shadows between two buildings, the prince yet to arrive to lead the parade.

“What?” you feign innocence. You can’t lie you’ve found the castle more enjoyable than you thought. Your mind strays to Jaehyun sitting by the library window, his face focused and serene. Your heart hammers and you shake yourself internally.

“You complained for at least an hour before I could convince you to work in the palace in my stead.”

“I…uh, think the horses have taken a liking to me. It would be rude to leave them like this.”

Jinhee smiles. “Just the horses, or someone else?”

You elbow her, shaking your head and leaving the alley to join the parade. She trails behind you, yelling a rather atrocious ‘You can’t hide from me!’

It takes an hour and a half to get the full preparations ready. The prince arrives in full armour, his sacrificial sword ready to be left to the tides. The river not only stands for kindness but for protection. The crowd never visits the waterfall, to your strange relief, just the widest part of the river, which trails northward to join the mother river. The waterfall is the most serene part and must be left undisturbed, the elders said. You never listened. And through years, it’s become your own. You’d hate for anyone but Jaehyun to be there with you.

Your eyes find the prince’s and he smiles, wider than the one he gives the crowd. Ah, the prince never forgets to smile, does he? You carry your own basket of goods to offer the knights water and napkins and some bread. It’s a lot longer than the path to the waterfall. This should be Jinhee’s work, but she’s better off at the orphanage with a recovering ankle.

You used to try and keep up with the knights when you were a kid, jogging and running and occasionally crashing into the blue cloaks of the commanders. You used to dream of joining them, and you would have were it not for the crushing debt your parents had left you. Now you walk at a distance from them, coming forward when they require anything.

You frown for the first time in a while.

The maven of the strings follows the knights, her music otherworldly and her fingers nimble upon her instrument. It’s a pity other kingdoms don’t get to see this often—your festival has to be the most celebrated one of the lands.

Once you reach, the maven begins her melodious chant in the ancient tongue, the blue and gold of her gown pronounced by the river and the sunlight. The music accompanies and it’s almost like a lullaby, the message to the river spirits.

And then the prince talks.

No wonder the rumours afloat talk of him as a creature of another realm. He moves with elegance, his words that sound sweet yet firm, and of course, his face of royalty and beauty. He’s come prepared, you think, even better than you hoped. You almost forget the ten year old boy, the boy afraid of things outside safety.

The musicians play a tune of love and respite, something soft for weary travellers to enjoy. It doesn’t heal you.

It takes you ten more minutes to feel sick, thoughts spiralling out of control. You can’t call yourself the hero of your story, can you? You have given up control for just a bite of peace and now, you don’t have the courage you used to. You settled for stability and forgot the rush of adventure, the call of sirens. You can’t even gather enough courage to face the boy you’re in love with, tell him the truth. You sit by the river, the rest of the villagers camped out till they regain their energy to walk back. The air is cool, the breeze strangely slow. It saddens you, the way you’ve changed into this nothingness.

And then, something snaps. Something little, but it breaks nonetheless.

You need to do something impulsive immediately. Your mother always said spirits seem to possess you at random hours of the day. Well, she’s not wrong—she just got the wrong kind of spirits.

“Hey.”

You look up to find Jaehyun, his armor off and the strings of his beige shirt neatly done underneath the coffee colored sweater. He looks tired, but you wouldn’t notice unless you knew the way his eyes usually shine. You move to give him space and he maintains a respectful distance, crossing his legs and relaxing his back.

“You spoke well,” you say, “I mean, I told you you’d do well.”

Jaehyun’s ears turn red again. “Thanks.”

There’s a long pause. You refuse to think of the cheek kiss and warmth of his face.

“Jaehyun.”

“Yes?”

You pause. “Remember when we used to run away to the waterfalls?”

Jaehyun furrows his eyebrows. “Yes?”

You grin. “Let’s go.”

“I’m sorry?”

You sigh. “It’s not fun here, is it?”

He hesitates.

“I can’t leave the parade like this. They… need me to lead them.”

“Ah, but do they? You think they can’t walk back on their own?”

Jaehyun falls silent. You can already feel the tingling of chaos in your stomach. You lean in, his eyes following your lips as they move.

“Shall we run away then? For old times’ sake?”

“To where?”

“You know where.”

You share a soft smile and you know he’s agreed.

Jaehyun takes a look around and you delve back into the forests together, the smiles and the songs of the trees consuming you whole.

It takes you a while to get to the waterfall. You don’t lose your way, the paths coming to you in flashes of childhood runaway dreams. There used to be song of fairies resonant throughout the forest—notes on a piano and the chiming of bells. You learnt it in school, but you’ve long forgotten now. The forest makes you nostalgic for it. Your walking lowers in pace once you smell the familiar wild honeysuckles. Your hand strays to Jaehyun’s but you don’t let them touch, your face getting hotter with each step. What happened to courage?

The smell gets stronger; Jaehyun smiles when you see the realization on his face. You still contemplate holding his hand. Is it inappropriate? Friends can hold hands, can’t they? You used to take his hand and guide him to this place (or, rather yank him here). What’s changed now? You see your friend, the face grown and more mature now—handsome, his eyes, lips and jaw almost ethereal. It makes your heart flip upside down.

Jaehyun takes your hand when you reach the clearing before the waterfall, your cheeks flaring the moment you feel the touch. That should have been your move, you think. You’re not a coward.

But you let him lead you this time, certain softness in the way he intertwines your fingers with his.

The sound of rushing water fills your ears and you run ahead to reminisce the same old spot you used to sit at. The rock juts out still, the flat surface perfect to rest on.

“I’m not getting my clothes wet,” Jaehyun says, carefully skipping over the rocks to reach the larger one.

“Really now?”

“Don’t do that.”

Before he can finish, the water hits him with a splash, a smile making its way on his face nonetheless.

“I told you to not do that,” he says.

“What are you gonna d- oh no.”

The water hits you this time, your face and shoulders drenched. You narrow your eyes at him.

“What?” he laughs. “You could have moved.”

“Jaehyun, I will have my revenge.”

“You can’t say that to the prince.” He laughs again.

“Oh? Can I do this Your Highness then?”

The obscene gesture of your hand makes Jaehyun roll his eyes but he makes space for you on the rock once you reach.

“I wish it would always be like this,” you say, your voice breaking. The afternoon sun sits high above. “I wish we could run away whenever we want.”

“Me too,” Jaehyun sighs. “Sometimes I wish I could leave the city, till everyone forgot me.”

You scoff. “No one could forget you. Have you seen yourself?”

“Is that all I have?” He turns to face you, a sorrowful look in his eyes.

There’s silence.

“If you know yourself, you’d know there’s more.” Your voice is quiet, almost a whisper.

The birds and the water take charge of the sounds after, filling any silence to be. The place hasn’t changed since. Nature has her own secrets of timelessness—the boulders rising from the waters in patterns mimicking a sky of stars, the waterfall hushing the two of you in your harmony. When you were younger, you used to call yourself the knight in shining armour and you blush when you think Jaehyun let you do all those silly things you did. You wonder if he thinks of them now and laughs again.

The two of you have grown up but in a way, you’ve stayed the same.

“Jaehyun?” you call.

“Yes?”

You falter.

Jaehyun turns his head to face you. The two of you sit atop the largest rock, flat enough to lie on but a little too cold for fall. His hair sticks up in strange ways, the wind having had its fun with him and his lips are a little chapped but they’re still as pink as ever. He sits with his leg stretched out, torso balanced by his arms. He looks relaxed.

“Do you think there could be more than this kingdom?”

Jaehyun laughs, sitting up. “Well, of course there is! There’s the winter kingdom of the north, the southern kingdom of dragons—”

“No! I mean…Do you ever think living inside here is a chore?”

Jaehyun doesn’t blink.

“Sometimes,” he answers.

There’s another pause.

“Sometimes I think I do everything wrong,” he confesses, lips pressed into a thin line after.

You scoff. “Oh please. You? You’d never do anything wrong in a hundred lifetimes.”

“Are you mocking me?”

“Only if you think I am.”

Jaehyun holds your stare and you feel compelled to look away; there are things better left unsaid that are begging to spill out.

“So you don’t think I can be wrong?” Jaehyun whispers, a frown on his clean-cut face as he furrows his brows.

“Oh, I think you’re incredibly wrong most of the time.” You grow impatient of all this indirect talk.

Jaehyun laughs, more full of disdain. It’s not something he shows often.

“You want me to tell you everything I think of you then?” you retort.

“Yes.”

I am so fucking in love with you, idiot.

“You never fight for things, Jaehyun,” you say, your voice sharp, “You never do things against the rules. You never do things out of pace. You’re never impulsive or—”

Jaehyun leans in to press his lips against yours, taking you by surprise. They’re soft, warm and you melt into it, your senses leaving you momentarily. You rest your palms against his chest, his arms on either side of you. He pulls back when you don’t respond, face and ears tinged cherry red as he looks away.

“I’m so sorry. I should have asked—“

“I liked that.”

You pull him by the collar to meet your lips with his once more, the sweet sound of flowing water drowning out every other feeling. You kiss once, twice, thrice till you outgrow the shyness, till you remember each other completely. You’ve seen the moonlight dance in Jaehyun’s eyes before, a sort of perfection that doesn’t come with royalty. But tonight, as  you walked back hand in hand through the sleepy streets, the moon has never smiled more upon the city.

Jaehyun feels as though he’s been tricked, except in the sweetest way possible.

It’s not like he’d been looking for love. He’s a prince—possibly the worst occupation anyone can look for in terms of free time. And he’s not one to believe in fairy tales of love and princes and knights in shining armour. He’s not one to fall headfirst into something.

But you marched right into his heart the way you walked into the castle gardens that day. The nerve you had, Jaehyun thinks. How could he fall so easily? His ears turn warm the further he thinks of you—your fingers nimble on his skin, your lips that fit perfectly against his.

Jaehyun doesn’t know if it’s the first time he’s been in love. All he remembers is this feeling blooming in lost dreams of honeysuckles on the other side of the kingdom and a childhood friend he couldn’t quite forget the fragrance of. He sighs. He wishes he hadn’t kissed you that evening; perhaps his heart would rest a little.

Of course, his parents had given him a good scolding that night. It was irresponsible, reckless even—but no pungent thought had bothered him till the sun had yawned in the first breath of morning. The people hadn’t noticed—you were right. They hardly do on the return journey. There’s still so much he could learn from you. Royalty isn’t so dreary a burden with you around.

“The Crownguard?” Jaehyun raises an eyebrow.

You nod. “I think I’m better at sword-fighting than wiping windows.”

“You certainly are.” Jaehyun grimaces thinking of all the times you’ve knocked him over on his butt playfighting. You’ve somehow managed to get even better at it, he’s heard. He does not want to face that.

The sunlight drifts into the library to hit your face perfectly, your lips full and pink, easily distracting. You’re lovely, unbelievably so.

“Besides,” you add, shyly, “I might even get to see the winter kingdom of the north and the southern kingdom of dragons.”

Jaehyun smiles, a little daring. “You could do that by my side. Maybe with a crown on your head.”

You turn an incredible shade of red Jaehyun didn’t know was possible. How can you be so cute?

“Isn’t it too early to be proposing?” You cross your arms, the red never leaving your cheeks. “It’s not even impressive enough.”

“If you call thirteen years too early.”

You laugh, the sound the same as years ago. Really, how did you sneak inside so quick? He leans in to press a soft kiss against your lips, enjoying every shade of pink you turn.

“Why’d you do that?!” you speak a note higher, turning your head to check the door. “What if someone sees?”

“You talk as though half the kingdom doesn’t know already.” Jaehyun smiles, ready to lean in for another kiss if you make that face again.

“It’s not my fault Jinhee has a big mouth,” you grumble.

“You’ve met my parents officially, (name). This isn’t exactly a secret—although… I do wish Mom would stop nagging me about…uh… rather inappropriate things.”

You shake your head.

“Approval doesn’t mean I want to make out in front of them,” you quip.

“Shall we try?”

“You’re quite playful today, aren’t you?” you comment. “I remember when I used to be the one making your heart race, Jaehyun.”

You still do.

Jaehyun breaks into a short laughter, yours following. He smells the scent of honeysuckles at night.

Jaehyun is no stranger to the stars in your eyes—but when you look at him with them, it’s like he doesn’t the need the moon anymore.

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Mother and Juliet; Regina x teen reader

This was my first Regina x reader oneshot. I can not tell you guys how much I LOVE Regina. I’ve loved her since day one and her entire character development has been so beautiful yet so tragic. I hope I do fellow Evil Regals proud on here like I have on wattpad. Be warned of suicide which is not worth it if someone breaks your heart, there is no coming back after you kill yourself, if you are suicidal or have any other mental problems just know there ARE people that love you no matter what those voices in your head tell you, don’t EVER listen to them.

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It’s a tale as old as time, but it’s not about how a girl finds the love in a beast.  I’m talking about the love story that is as forbidden as the forbidden fruit.  The sweet taste of its juices as it first consumes you only to then slowly turn to poison as it drains you of your thoughts and conscience until you’re nothing but it’s slave until death do you part.

You all may think you know the story of one of history’s greatest romance tragedies “Romeo and Juliet”, well you’re wrong. How do I know you may ask? Because I am one of them. My name is Juliet and this is my story.

It all began on my 14th birthday ball.  I was standing in front of my full length mirror looking at my new party dress that my mother had made for me thanks to her magic.  As I stood there, my grandfather Henry came from behind me and said.

“You look beautiful your highness”.

“Thank you grandpa”.

“Indeed you do my darling”. I turned around to see my mother coming into my room with her head held high and strutting proudly like the Queen she was.  “But there is something you must fix my dear (y/n),” she then took me by the waist and straightened me out.  “Now don’t slouch, posture is self-respect and if you don’t have it, no one else will give it to you”.

“Yes mother”. Throughout my whole life my mother Regina has done whatever it takes to make me the future Queen which means controlling every single aspect of my life. How I should pose myself, how I should dress, speak, etc.  To be honest, I feel like a bird in a cage, allowed to show off my beauty but never be allowed to fly free all because of my mother.

She’s even made my birthday ball be a chance to find an eligible young prince to marry in order to unsure my step-sister Snow White would never claim the thrown.

“Now then, your party is waiting for its guest of honor, shall we?” My mother offered me her arm and I took it and the two of us walked gracefully out of my room towards the ballroom.

Throughout the rest of the night, I danced with every Prince from every kingdom that had come but like always none of them were interesting nor were they nice enough. They talked to me like I was a trophy or just downright disrespected me like I wasn’t worth anything to them. Taking a break I stood by the food table and got myself a drink of water.  As I put the cup to my lips a voice said beside me.

“Can’t find the right partner?” I turned towards the voice and my heart skipped a beat.  This young man was young maybe a couple years older than me, he had dark brown hair, skin that almost looked like it was kissed by the sun, and the bluest eyes I had ever seen.  He was the handsomest boy I had ever seen before.

“Maybe” I said looking away trying to cover up my upcoming blush.  I felt fingers underneath my chin and my head was being turned back towards this Adonis.

“If I may be so bold, I would like to ask her highness for a dance”.  He took the drink out of my hand and placed it on the table and guided me towards the dancefloor.  He slowly spinned me until I now stood in front of him.  He took my hand and bowed gentleman style as he kissed my hand and I curtsied back and soon the two of us began to dance.

I don’t know what it was or why this was happening, but it felt so right.  I felt like this boy was destined to be my True Love.  The way we danced, it felt like no one else was even in the room as I only had my eyes on him and he had his eyes on me. We must’ve danced the whole night because the next thing I know, people are starting to depart to their carriages.

“My Lord we must return to Verona at once” I heard whom I assumed was one of his escorts call out to him.  He smiled at me sadly and he said.

“I’m afraid I must go my fair Juliet”.

“Since you know my name, may I enquire yours as equal payment?” I asked.  He then summoned out a rose and handed it to me and told me his name.

“To you my fair Juliet, call me Romeo”. He kissed my cheek then he left with his escort and I watched as he left the palace.  I let out a sigh and I held my rose close to my heart.  It was then I heard a very familiar voice.

“Well, well, well it would seem our fair Juliet has met her Romeo”.

“Rumpelstiltskin”. I said as I turned around and saw the Dark One himself standing before me. All my life whenever my mother would have meetings with the infamous Dark One, I would be forced to meet with him also and along with my mom teaching me how to do magic she always required that Rumple take me on as a second generation apprentice which I never failed them when it came to magic because I knew the punishment if I did.

“Hello dearie, so sorry I couldn’t come earlier but business as usual has me knee deep”.

“Its fine Rumple, the ball was pretty much boring anyways”.

“Not according to your face it wasn’t”. Suddenly the rose disappeared from my hand and I saw it appear in my teacher’s hand.  He sniffed it and stated, “A rose by any other name would smell as sweet, for fair Juliet has fallen for the dashing young Romeo”.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about”. I tried to change the conversation but I felt him take my chin and he said.

“Ahh tut, tut, tut, tut, tut, tut, tut, tut dearie. You can’t hide anything from me, the look in your innocent young eyes tell me all, and you’ve finally found your True Love”. I looked away from my teacher and leaned up against the balcony.

“Maybe, I guess so. Does love always make you feel like this? Like you’re about to burst out of your body and just soar in the sky”.

“So I’ve been told. Though I must give you a heed of warning dearie,” I turned towards him and he continued, “True love can sometimes be misleading, and like all magic it comes with a price. So be sure to keep your heart in tack and don’t lose your head”. Soon a neatly wrapped present appeared in my hands and he finished off, “a gift for one of my favorite apprentices” he giggled then disappeared in his usual crimson smoke leaving me alone on the balcony.

Days later, Romeo would secretly return to my palace and the two of us would meet in secret as best as we could all because of my mother.  When she began to suspect of my sneaking around (probably from one of her many spies who are always spying me maybe even from Rumple himself) she had ordered her guards to keep a close watch on me no matter where I was so in the end I would have to use my magic to distract them, get to my Romeo and then teleport us somewhere else where no one could find us.

She used whatever method she could to try and keep us apart, and it all became even worse when the Dark Curse was activated.

*Storybrooke*

For over 28 years we had to live under my mother’s curse.  No memories of our previous lives, no knowledge of who we truly were or who our real families were.  In this world I was known as Julie the daughter of the mayor.  I had a younger brother named Henry who always tried to convince me that this reality wasn’t real and that our mom was “The Evil Queen”.

Of course to a moody 14 year old teenage girl who was dealing with an unknown broken heart that sounds delusional and of course we older sisters get bothered by our little brothers (come on I’m know I’m right, right?) anyways he had run away and had brought back his “birth mom/chosen savior” Emma Swan who was the suppose daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming and of course when she arrived, everything began to change.

Within a few months of her staying in Storybrooke, the curse was broken when she freed Henry from the sleeping curse that was meant for her made by my mom.  And when the curse was broken, everyone was freed and began remembering who they were, including me.

After that things got even crazier when we tried to stop my grandmother from entering Storybrooke, dealing with Greg and Tamara, the dealing with Pan, the discovery of my new half-aunt? (I think is what I should call her) Zelena.

Through all the insanity and the drama that ensued these past couple of years, my heart still longed for finding my Romeo.  I had heard rumors that he was here but I never had the chance to look for him and finally with things seeming to be back to normal, I decided to finally look around the town and see if I could find him.

So that night, I had made my escape plan to sneak out my room through the balcony and run out into the city to see if he would be out and about in the town.  He was always like that my Romeo, a party animal and a daring man to never back down from a challenge.  As I got onto my balcony ready to hop onto the tree and make my escape a voice stopped me.

“You’re really going to go look for him, aren’t you?” I turned around to see my mother standing there at my doorway to my balcony.

“What else would I be doing out here?”

“Juliet, baby I know I haven’t been the best mother—”

“Humph, that’s an understatement”. I muttered.

“Excuse me!?”

“You heard me. Back home you never cared about my happiness! Mother you’ve broken my heart by placing this curse upon us, Romeo and I were destined to be together and you tore us apart! You really are just like your mother but this time I’m gonna have a spine for once and go out and find him!”

“MY MOTHER NEVER CARED ABOUT MY HAPPINESS BUT I DO CARE ABOUT YOURS!” she screamed at me. Silence pierced the air when my mother continued this time her voice breaking up almost as if she was about to cry, “Do you know why I never approved of your true love? It’s because your dashing “Romeo” is nothing but a spoiled, selfish, tramp! For every girl he finds and claims to love he breaks their hearts. Some of them so heartbroken they’ve committed suicide! And I will not have my daughter be heartbroken by that someone like that!”

“No, no you’re—you’re lying to me again mom. When will the lies ever stop?”

“Don’t believe me? I can give you the names of the families that Romeo has ruined because of his heartless ways” I glared at my mom and sneered at her

“I refuse to believe that I’ll go ask him myself”. I then hopped off from the tree down to the ground and took off running with my mom shouting my name.

As I ran through the town hoping to find my Romeo, I soon came across the White Rabbit club. On the board outside it said “Teen’s Nite” and I knew then that’s where my true love would be at.  I entered inside and loud music was booming through the speakers.  I tried to gently push my way through the crowd of teens who were dancing around, talking or drinking sodas or whatever drinks they were serving.

Soon I took notice a tuff of blonde hair at a table and a familiar curve of his handsome face. It was Romeo.  My heart skipped a beat as I slowly walked towards him to suddenly stop and watch in absolute shock and disbelief.

Two beautiful girls soon sat on either side of him and soon his friends and cousins came sitting down in front of him at the table and his friend Mercutio said.

“Man Romeo, to think you actually got to snag these two fine young ladies right here all in the same night damn dude you gotta tell me your secret!”

“A man as handsome as me never reveals his secrets but you’ll get there one day Merc”. His pals all oooed and playfully nudged Mercutio at Romeo’s burn.

“Hey what about that one girl you were with back home uhhh what was her name again?” asked Benvolio.

“Yeah what’d it Jewel or something?” said Mercutio.

“Juliet? Ahh that girl was too desperate. I mean all that time I was with her I never really cared for her. I just went with her to get away from my old man but man did she fall for me like a rock to sea. Yeah sure she was pretty but nowhere near as beautiful as the girls I have right here, right ladies?” the girls giggled sultry as they cuddled up against him.

I just stood there in shock about his words.  I stumbled out of the White Rabbit until I was outside in the cold and leaned up against the wall before sliding down and wept.

I was betrayed, fooled, heartbroken, and felt completely stupid.  Now I’m beginning to understand what Rumpelstiltskin meant on my 14th birthday ball that night.  True love can be poison as well, just when you think you’ve found your destined one, the person who makes you feel like you’re on top of the world, they go around and turn on you.  They throw you under the bus and just watch as their ‘love’ makes you suffer in such agony.

I could risk going back to my mom and having her throw back the ‘I told you so’ sass speech that she usually does whenever she’s right about something.  I got up and just walked aimlessly out of the town and into the forest.

Just my luck as I walked, it began to pour down rain but I didn’t care.  I was too numb to notice how cold I was or how much I was shivering.  My clothes soaked deeply into my skin and my shoes were beyond soggy and muddy, but again I didn’t care.

“Julie?” I looked up to see my dear friend Grace (yep that’s right the daughter of the Mad Hatter Jefferson. During the curse, Grace and I actually became best friends and after the curse even with our parent’s past together we still remained close and even Jefferson doesn’t blame me for what my mother did to him, he never did).

“Hey Gracie” I muttered softly.

“Why are you out here in the rain in the middle of the night?”

“Grace I—I…..”

“What is it Julie? You know you can tell me anything”.

“Grace—can I please spend the night over at your place? I don’t want to go home”. I choked out a sob.

“Sure, yes of course papa won’t mind, come on let’s get you inside and warmed up. Papa can even make you some tea”.  She then stood close beside me sensing my sorrow and held the umbrella over us and she guided me towards her mansion deep in the woods.

Once we got there, she called out to her papa.

“Papa! I’m home!”

“About time young lady I was just about to call the sheriff to search for—” Jefferson then came out from the kitchen and when he saw me soaking wet his eyes turned concerned.

“Papa, can Juliet spend the night? She doesn’t want to go back home”.

“Yeah of course. Umm….Grace why don’t you get her some extra clothes for her to sleep in as well as prepare the guest room for her”

“Yes papa” she said then she took off upstairs then Jefferson turned towards me and said.

“Juliet come with me into the kitchen and I’ll make you some tea”. I slowly walked towards him and he placed his hand on my back and guided me into the kitchen.  He sat me down on one of the chairs and immediately began making the tea.

“There we go, nice, freshly brewed tea. Hopefully that’ll warm you up”.  I took the cup in my hands and took a gently sip of it.

“Thank you Jefferson” I muttered quietly.

“It’s no trouble at all and hey,” he placed his hand on my shoulder gently before he continued, “stay here as long as you need to, I have absolutely no problems with it”.  I nodded and thanked him once more just as Grace came down with an extra pair of her pajamas since we both wore the same size clothes and I changed in the bathroom and got myself more comfortable.

Later that night I was in the guestroom and I knew Grace and Jefferson were already fast asleep by now but I was wide awake.  I couldn’t sleep not after all that I had heard Romeo say about me.  His words still fresh in my mind, my heart feeling like my mother took it out from my chest and squeezing it as slow and as painfully hard as she could like she did to all of her victims back home in the Enchanted forest.

I got out of bed and prepared a note hoping that Grace would find it as I explained everything and swearing her to our ‘Sister sworn secrecy’ I hoped she wouldn’t show this note to her dad or even my mom about what I was going to do.  As soon as the rain stopped for the night, I snuck out of the mansion and took off for another house far from the town but out in the open meadow of the forest.

By morning I had arrived at my destination.  My half-aunt Zelena’s house.  I walked up the steps of her house and knocked on the door and waited in the cold morning air until she opened the door.  When she opened it and saw me she just sneered at me and said.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“I need your help. I need magic”.

“Why would I give you my magic when clearly you can get some from mummy-dearest. Now get off my porch!” She went to close the door but I stopped it with my magic and begged her.

“Please Zelena, you’re the only one I know who can create this poison, please aunt Zelena, you’re my last hope”. Seeing how desperate I was she then smirked and said.

“Come in my darling niece and we’ll see what Aunty Zelena has for you hmm?” I then entered her house and she closed the door.

I was now at the old Toll Bridge with the container of poison that Zelena had made for me.  One taste of the Blackheart’s poison and my heart will slowly shrink until it dries up like a raisin and I’ll finally be free of my heartbreak and life as I know it forever.  I slowly opened the flask lid and stared at the glowing purple liquid inside and shut my eyes as I raised it up to my mouth when I suddenly heard.

“JULIET STOP!!!” My eyes shot open and I turned to see my mom running towards me along with Emma, Snow, David, Henry, Robin and Hook.  “Julie baby please don’t do this!” my mom begged me.

“You were right mom. You were right about him. But I don’t wanna hear your lecture right now, why do you all come?”

“Jefferson called us, he said that you had spent the night over with Grace but then when she came to wake you up she saw the note and got scared”. Started Snow.

“We then heard from Gold that you went to Zelena for poison and wanted to kill yourself, so we used a locator spell to find where you were at and thank god we got here when we did” finished David.

“Well you’re too late! My life is worthless without him. He was my whole world and he crumbled it down! If this is love I do not want it…. I’m going to take it from me and finally end the life he ruined”.

“Juliet put the poison down.” Mom started softly as she slowly walked towards me.  “If you drink that poison, there will be no coming back from it. Suicide is permanent and there’s no going back from it. You’ve got so many people that love you sweetheart, and I love you more than anything. I should’ve done a better job to protect you I am so sorry. But Juliet sweetie, you will find your True love I mean look at me. I thought I was beyond all hope after Daniel but then I met Robin. He gave me a second chance to find love, Romeo just wasn’t yours. But that doesn’t mean you need to end your life because of one guy, I promise there will be a guy out there who will love you for who you truly are”.

Tears welled up in both of our eyes as my mom stood right next to me looking at me with her sad, brokenhearted brown eyes staring deeply into my own.

“Juliet. You’re better than him. Show me you’re better than him”.  I just stared at her before finally breaking down and dropping the flask with the poison and wept hysterically in my mom’s chest.  She held onto me and we both collapsed to our knees. She rubbed me back, repeatedly kissed my head and anywhere else she could reach and whispered words of comfort to me.  

As I wept I soon felt more arms being wrapped around me and I knew it was my family giving me strength.  It was that moment I knew I couldn’t let my broken heart control my life, I was going to try and press on and I won’t do it alone.

[awaragainstboredom]

Writer’s Block: The RPG Method Part 2

I continue on with Rota’s background by adding in the other NPCs that have played an important role in her upbringing. I kind of had to go back an touch up on more with everyone of them. Though there are some like her father Beolf, that I haven’t done yet, because his is a more complicated tale, and also a lot of the plot with a lot of the characters in Rota’s backstory revolve around Beolf. At some point I will have to finish what I came up for with him. The same goes for Tsubame, Ilsa’s adventuring and life partner. I’ve always like the Avarial elves, and I came up with a clan that migrated to the eastern kingdom of Shou, where they were seen another form of Tengu, or Hengeyokai, and not as elves. Things to think about. Anyways, here you go:

Rota’s friends and family character background

Mother: Herja Grendelstadt   Class: Barbarian\Race: Tiefling (rumored to be descended from a Balor)\Age :(is only for wine) Ht: 6’7 and ¾\Wt:(Of her boot on your head if you ask this question)

Herja is brash, bold, loud and outspoken. Though she does come off as crass, she actually kind hearted and is ready to aid those she cares about when in need. Has no tolerance for idleness and laziness. She is quick to get to the point. She was really distant and even rougher around the edges in the beginning, being that she was raised by her father in the mountains and her later years by the man Thorin who killed her father in a duel (Thorin left her the farm before he passed away, because he owed it to her, and he knew his own two children didn’t want to keep it).

Of course when she became closer to her adventuring party, she started to warm up to people, but in her own brutish sort of way. Beolf, “The skald who never shuts up” would eventually marry and settle down with was a major element in her change. She shows everyone that she has moved on after his death, but is curious about how her husband really died.

Herja cares deeply for Rota, and wants her to be strong, so that she may be able to fend for herself and protect others. This is why she put her through a bunch of crazy training routines and made her work hard on the farm, from age 5 -12 and then at 18 after her first year of apprenticeship under Dragnar (in which she kicked her ass in a duel sent her back to Dragnar and scolded him for “shitty training”).

She also knows what it’s like to see your father die right in front of your eyes, and wants Rota to find strength inside herself with that tragedy. She waits to see her daughter again to see how her training has gone, and also she likes her, she guesses…

She also has two adopted siblings, who are Thorin’s children and are also tieflings. Olaf, who left the farm to become a sailor, and Kara, who left to learn the magic arts (rumors say she was a wizard school dropout, but is a powerful magic user).

Godfather: Touchstone (Real name unknown, or has forgotten) \Race: Human Class: Wizard/Hedonist\Age: (Whatever you want me to be…) \Height 5’9 Wt: 140

The genius (and handsome) wizard Touchstone was Rota’s Beolf’s closest (and handsomest) friend since he started adventuring. They met each other in Waterdarvia, after Touchstone got in a bind from gambling with some ruffians. Beolf , starving and lacking funds saw that Touchstone had plenty of coin(and plenty of good looks), and was able to fool the thugs and get away with(the fetching) Touchstone. In the end, he was going to use (the sexy) Touchstone to take his cash for deescalating the situation, but was up front with him about it. But (the striking)Touchstone knew that was his plan, and was looking for someone else to distract them while he would cast a spell unnoticed to get out of the situation. The opportunist saw the opportunist, and thus their (beautiful, but remember I am the prettiest) friendship began.

He took care of Rota when she was sent off to Hippocampus Scale at age 12 to be safe from Jarl Falken and his cult, and to teach her the magic she had always wanted to learn (a more fervent request seeing she wanted to find out what magic killed her father). Touchstone saw that Beolf always wanted to nurture her mind, so he made sure that she had plenty of books that He saw that she was really adept at learning spell formulas and theory (she learned it a lot faster than those who had been learning it at an earlier age in life), but the fact that she could not connect to mana meant she couldn’t go any further in Mage School.

However he didn’t give up on encouraging Rota to look at magic in different ways. And he had her tutor wizards that had issues with script or language barrier problems when it came to reading formulas and theory, and also tutored languages for those that needed it. He figured that her doing this she was able to make friends and be seen as reliable to students who were having a hard time in the Academy.

Another strength he saw in her was magic combat, and though she couldn’t cast spells, she was asked to come in to be the aggressor/protector in the lessons, and in turn learned a good deal on how to handle wizards straight ahead, and understanding what type of spell they might be casting themselves or for her. Touchstone also saw this as a good opportunity to boost her confidence against the students that bullied her, by understanding real life tactics (and a bit of physical dominance).

He saw there was a little spark inside of her that would allow her to be able to use magic, and thought that perhaps continuing with physical training might ignite that out of her releasing the magic power within her. And she thus at age 17 she was sent to learn under Dragnar, who could also help look after her and the book.

Touchstone is a master spell caster and a savant in understanding spells in formula and in action. He is also a hedonist, and probably would be considered to be among the Pantheon of Arch-mages. That is if he actually wouldn’t be running around embracing major amounts of debauchery. How he is an instructor at Hippocampus Scale is beyond a lot of people, but his lessons have a 100% success rate (so he says).

He is incredibly sardonic, acerbic, a big fan of gallows humor, a narcissist, and always has wine in hand. Despite all that, he is a caring individual, it’s just how he deals with things in life. He is very protective of Rota, and makes sure that he strengthens her mind to handle the trials of life (though he regrets he wasn’t able to help her with that awkward personality and anger she has as much as he wanted to).

He doesn’t feel bad that he gave her the book that her father was coveting from the cult, because with eyes on him at Hippocampus Scale, it was better off with her as she went to train under Dragnar. On a side note, Touchstone regrets getting her addicted to the “Darkblade Chronicles”, an epic series written by Val Ros’help about Sehl, a brooding Warrior Mage Half Moon Elf Damphir with magical longswords that are possessed by his dead siblings, who are also sorcerers.  

Weapon Master: Dragnar Fafnirson Class: Fighter\Race: Human (a child of a dragon blooded sorcerer)\Age: 48\Ht: 6’5

Rota’s master in her weapons training. The grizzled mountain of a man is also a close friend to Herja, Beolf and Touchstone. He is the son of heroes who were disappointed in him turning down learning magic to take up the sword. He was the reluctant leader of their adventuring party and would get into heated arguments with Herja about battle tactics being the brains of the operation. Dragnar is all about timing and patience, and understanding one’s terrain when fighting the enemy. They were also in an on and off relationship, before Herja started having feelings for Beolf. This caused Beolf and him to become rivals for Herja’s affection, but in the end she chose the bard. Dragnar, though bitter about them being together, was supportive of them and was always there for them. He even helped on the farm and gave gifts on the holidays.

When Touchstone couldn’t teach Rota anymore, he sent her to learn with him. Dragnar saw that her fighting style is wild like her mother’s, which made him work to reign in her rage and fight with more control. Though he also teaches her that you can’t be to controlled in fighting and must find a flow, and there is nothing wrong with cockiness in a fight as long as it remains in the “flow” and you can use it to psyche out your opponents.  

Dragnar believes: “Swordplay without swagger is like rain without clouds. Sure, it’s possible, but only because the wind brought it from a cloud in the first place. Just like that, your swagger will always be there in your swordwork no matter how distant you are to it.” Rota laughs at this advice, every time she thinks about it, and dubbed the “Dragnar Style” as: “Sword and Swagger”.

He sent Rota to meet her mother in a remote area, so that she could test out her daughter’s new fighting prowess after a year of training her. Herja won in small matter of time, and chewed out Dragnar for his “shitty training”. Ashamed, Dragnar spent the next 5 years training her more, and sent her out on her own to gain experience and hopefully will be ready to take on her mother and prove that she is strong enough to protect herself.

Five years after Beolf died, He and Herja had started seeing each other again,  on and off. Dragnar loves Herja, but knows that she only sees it as a physical relationship, because of Beolf. This is why he always gives out a long sigh when deep in thought. Rota, actually found out about it when she accidentally walked in on them making out, but was unnoticed. Touchstone knew before Rota and calls Dragnar “Your Mom’s Special Sword”.

The Dragnar Style is a known Two Weapon style ranging from an assortment of weapons, dragon wing like cross slashes and being adept at throwing them.

Secret Godparent: Ilsa Hildrsdottir Class: Ranger\Race: Dwarf\Age:??\Ht: 4’5\Wt: 90 lbs.

The cool and collective Ilsa. The ranger of the party, who originally left because of her partner and lover Tsubame died. Ilsa was a bounty hunter and Tsubame was an occult investigator. They worked mostly on occult based cases, and on one of their cases they clashed with Dragnar, Herja, Beolf, and Touchstone (Beolf called his group “The Spoilers”, much to his party’s dismay). Ilsa and Tsubame were bitter rivals with the other group, and would every once in a while run into each other for the same job. Eventually on a mission they ended up uniting their forces, which led to she and Tsubame becoming a part of the team, thus  making them a force to be reckoned with.

In the situation involving “The Order of the Unsung Rhyme”, summoning something from beyond that almost devoured the entire party, Tsubame called upon the power of her patron and sacrificed herself in order to save the rest of the party from death. After she died, the party was broken up, but not as much as Ilsa, who left the group because she was devastated and wished she went with Tsubame. A few years after Ilsa left the party, they disbanded, retired and went on with their lives. Ilsa had only come back to the world for Rota’s birth (in secret with Beolf and Herja), and Beolf’s funeral. Beolf’s death angered her even more and tempered her vow of vengeance against “The Order of the Unsung Rhyme”.

Ilsa has been the secondary form of insurance to protect Rota from within the shadows, finding out who would be a threat and who works for the Jarl and his cult.  Many a silent arrow shot, and many a throat has been slit, though Rota will never know. And in some way this acts as vengeance for Tsubame and Beolf.

When Rota went to train with Dragnar, Ilsa assisted her in Archery lessons, and speed. She did what she could to help her with walking silently, but just gave up. She taught her to read and speak Dwarven. Despite her gruff exterior, she is a very talkative person, and an avid reader, which is why she and Beolf got along so well. She and Rota go on and on about books they read, and she too is a fan of the “Darkblade Chronicles”, her favorite character is “Hard Target” the Dwarven Sniper Ranger with her bow, “Chill-bane” which is made from the bone of a frost giant’s spine. When they talk books, she sees a lot of Beolf in Rota. She also is a fan of sweets. She once almost killed Touchstone for eating her pie (This incident gave birth to Beolf song a called: The Pie Thief of the White Whale).

Though Touchstone and Dragnar don’t know it, but if anything was to happen to Herja and Touchstone, she would be the one to take care of Rota until she was old enough to be on her own.