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scrcndipix · 6 months ago

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red dawn. 06 | jeon jungkook.

The fall of the Baegyum Dynasty was imminent. Sangyu and his Insurgents from the Clans of the Mountains, known enemies of the royal family, have attacked the Sacred City of Ilsan, once the capital of an empire, now was reduced to ashes. And you have only one mission: to protect with your life the princess and heir to a broken realm. In your way to the neighboring kingdom in search of protection, you find yourselves in Yerin Woodland, territory of werewolves —ancient enemies of the Baegyum Dynasty who would gladly kill an Ilsan priestess like you.

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jeon jungkook x f reader.

wordcount: 13.4k

warnings/contents: nothing serious. just Luna being Luna and Jin and Jimin the bestest boys ever. angst???? (kind of). mentions of isolation and illness.

a/n: ... hi! i know it's been a while (like 3 years lol). i don't really have an excuse, just got into uni after the last chapter and didn't really feel like continuing the fanfic after that. during this time, i've matured the story and gained more perspective. i won't pressure myself to write anymore; i'll update when i'm truly satisfied and confident in what i'm doing. i understand that many people might not want to read it anymore. but for those who do, here's a new chapter. i hope you like it. i will maintain the old taglist, let me know if you want to be removed! take care. 💓

taglist: @shatzkrinslinzki @elliegrace1999tvd @channiespup @wooya1224 @veronawrites @itsoktheresbts @fangirl125reader @holyhumorliteraturelight @danyxthirstae01 @jamlessstars @chimchoom @jksusawife

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The last snows of the season were melting in pools of crystal clear water across the Clearing. In the mornings, the air was so chilly that it froze them, but it hadn't snowed in weeks. The last blizzard occurred on the night of your arrival to the pack, and since then, the signs of the arrival of spring had been clearer and clearer. The days were longer and the afternoons warmer.

As you came down for breakfast that morning, two days after your release on parole, you found out that the members of the pack were in especially good spirits and tremendously relieved.

"Jungkook took the farmers to the fields this morning to check their condition before sowing time after the next full moon," Jimin recounted, sitting on a high wooden stool, while Jin, at the stove, carefully stirred the contents of a huge, steaming pot, "and apparently they're all ready for this year's season despite the hellish winter we've had."

One of them was carrying the Cornerstone, as usual. You sensed the strap stirring and tensing almost lazily when you reached the threshold of the kitchen. The strands of light ghosting around you where you couldn't reach them, though you almost could. It was Jin who was bearing the medallion.

"Ah, thanks the Moon." The older Omega seemed to be very relieved. "Hoseok told me the other day that we were running out of our grain reserves."

Jimin nodded, humming. "Yeah, and since elk have migrated to the Yugseon Steppes earlier this season, we'll be able to organize hunting trips as soon as the snow melts enough for the paths to be clear."

You cleared your throat, not finding any other way to make yourself heard. They both turned their eyes to look at you when they heard you enter the kitchen, and a smile automatically formed on their faces, welcoming you.

"Welcome to the world of the living," Jin greeted you, refocusing his attention on the pot.

Jimin chuckled, pulling a stool away from the counter for you to sit next to you. You suppressed an apologetic smile as you settled in; Jin had strictly forbidden everyone to interrupt you while you slept, stating that it was best to let you wake up on your own, so that you could rest and sleep as long as your body asked. As a result, you didn't usually emerge from your room until late in the morning, even noon.

"Did you sleep well?" Jimin asked, with a mocking tone that made you finally smile.

"You shouldn't get me used to sleep all I want," you replied, leaning your elbows on the counter, "by the time you want me to get up early, it'll be too late."

Your playful answer made them laugh. They were getting used to you behaving like a normal person, laughing and smiling more usually, playing along their jokes and talking comfortably. It was a slow progress, but it was still progress.

"Nonsense." Jin's words were categorical. "You will be more helpful during the sowing if you are fully recovered. So do as I say, I am the healer here."

He shook his wooden spoon up and down, in a threatening manner, before putting it in the pot again. You nodded, forcing a smile although they didn't realize it wasn't genuine. Even if you had all the time you wanted and more to sleep, you couldn't rest properly. You spent most of the night awake, staring at the wooden panels of the ceiling of your rooms. The reason? Nightmares. Horrible, dreadful nightmares. Despite the fact that all of them were different, they all ended the same way.

Your hands stained with dark blood and a mountain of wolves' corpses before your shaking frame.

But of course, you couldn't tell them about that. It's not that you couldn't, because you knew that if you could trust someone in the pack, it was them. No, it wasn't like that: you didn't want, it felt too close to home for them to talk about that episode of your lives just yet.

"Have you ever participated in a seeding, Luna?" asked Jimin, leaning his chin on his hands.

"Kind of," you answered, shaking your head from side to side contemplatively, "it was customary that the High Priestess blessed the fields before the seedtime. Everyone thought that brought prosperity and good harvests."

The two Omegas were listening attentively, just like every time you told them about your life in Ilsan. They wanted to leave a record of everything they didn't know or anything their books didn't have. You found yourself softening whenever it happened, because you couldn't tell why, but seeing them truly interested in your thoughts and experiences made you happier than you would like to admit.

For the first time in forever, someone listened to you and kept in mind your opinions. For the first time in forever, you felt like you could speak your mind because your point of view was as valid as everyone else's. Jimin interrupted your thoughts dragging you back to reality.

"Did it work?"

"Well, I guess so. We never had problems with droughts or plagues. My blessing or pure luck? Only the Moon knows."

They chuckled at your words and Jin placed two bowls of chicken noodle soup with two glasses of warm herbal tea. One was for you and the other for Jimin.

"I can't wait for this year's Vernal Equinox Fest" Jimin commented, munching on his noodles, "you'll love it, Luna. It is one of our biggest celebrations."

You nodded, taking a sip of tea. You had read about it before, all their festivals were perfectly described in the books of the Great Library of the High Temple —Vernal Equinox Fest, Summer Solstice Fest, Autumnal Equinox Fest, Harvest Festivals, Great Moon Festivals, etc. Werewolves' culture depended a lot on the hunting seasons and the farming and lunar calendars, since that was the only way they had to measure the time. Their festivals were large and very important for them, being the most relevant social events in their life in community

Before you could add anything else, someone opened the front door with heavy steps before closing it again. The three of you turned your heads to the kitchen door.

"Anyone here?" Taehyung's voice ecchoed through the corridors from the vestibule.

Your stomach sank in anguish at the sound of the young Beta and you just wanted him to go away. Avoiding Taehyung at all costs had become your main purpose since the incident of the effigy. Even if he didn't seem to hate you at all. That's what disturbed you. He should hate you. He had to, right? How come he didn't? He had treated you normally, even almost jokingly. He told you that he trusted you. How the fuck could he trust you?

You stirred in your place almost uncomfortably. He had to be lying, he had to be pretending. Maybe he was just trying to make you feel save and relaxed enough to be vulnerable around him; maybe he was trying to get close to you, so that he could attack you where it hurt you the most.

Hana's face came to your mind, and your heart skipped a beat. The princess seemed to be already close to him, and that only made you feel even more anxious.

"In the kitchen!" Jin answered, bending down to lift a cube of fresh water to pour it into a new pot.

You turned back to your bowl of noodles and shoved a spoonful into your mouth, pretending Taehyung wasn't approaching the kitchen in that exact moment. Maybe if you ignored his presence, he would just disappear. His steps became louder as he got closer to the room and he poked his head out of the door.

"I don't know what are you cooking, but I want a bowl of that. It's smells like heaven", he said as he entered the kitchen.

Jimin smiled. "Good morning, Taehyung-ah," he greeted, spinning on the stool to face him, leaning his back on the counter, "did you hear the news? Seedtime is coming!"

Taehyung flopped down mindlessly on the other stool besides you, gesturing Jin to hand him his own bowl of chicken noodle soup.

"Yeah, Yoongi hyung told me this morning during our patrol. I guess that by pure stadistic, something good had to happen to us already," from the corner of your eye, you saw he was looking down at you with raised eyebrows, "and it is actually the reason why I am here."

Jin and Jimin waited patiently for him to swallow his first two spoonfuls of soup. Even you mustered the courage to turn your head to glance at him, expectantly. The way he looked at you when he said that the forthcoming sowing was the first good thing to happen to the pack after a series of unfortunate, fateful, disastrous, nightmarish events, told you what you already knew —you were part of those unfortunate, fateful, disastrous, nightmarish events.

"Alpha Kim asked me to introduce Luna to some people today", he explained at last, "since we are starting to prepare for the next winter, people think that she should help too."

You remained silent, munching slowly on your own food. Even if the deal you made with Namjoon and Jungkook only forced you to help them in the war with your power and the Cornerstone's you thought that them wanting you to collaborate in the pack's daily labors was just fair enough. After all, you needed to eat and a roof over your head, and also make amends for your past mistakes. Not that stirring some soil for the sowing or weaving willow baskets for storage could repay them for what you did, but well, it's the thought that counts, right?

You wish.

Jin frowned slightly, abandoning momentarily his cooking task to look at Taehyung directly in the eye.

"It's too early for that, she is still recovering. I talked with Jungkook about it and-

"Jungkook approves it, hyung. " He interrupted softly. "He was with Namjoon when they sent me here. Time flies and with Sangyu in wait, we need all the help we can get."

You sighed ever so slightly, yet earning their attention. Why were they talking about you like you weren't in the room? You were not a person of just sitting and wait for things to be done magically. Since you can remember, people have decided on your life and your fate, you had no voice to speak yourself. Back in Ilsan, no one expected you to have an opinion or a point of view, rather the opposite. And now that you were not the High Priestess anymore, you had all the right to speak your thoughts, helping was the least you could do for them, and you prefered better not to give the pack more reasons to despise you. The sooner they got used to you, the sooner you would stop hating yourself for what you did.

"I'll do it," Jin puffed in disbelief and Jimin frowned, "I'm much better and I'll try to help as much as I can."

Jimin huffed as well, trying to reason with you. "Luna, you cannot just-

"I am not asking for your permission," you cut him off, not trying to sound agressive, but firmly anyway, "I am informing you."

You were not having it, not anymore. As much as you appreciated Jimin, he wouldn't get to tell you what to do. No one would ever decide on your behalf if you could help it. He looked away, biting on his lower lip seemingly frustrated.

Jin glared at you, lifting his spoon to threaten you again with it. "If I find out that you are overworking yourself in any way, I'll put barriers on your bed again and tie you up to them. Got it?"

You smiled at him sheepishly, he sighed loudly, but he made do with that. He took the Cornerstone off handing it to Taehyung, and felt relieved just from the very idea of doing so. Jimin also seemed happy to be away from the medallion for a while. Even if he knew he was going to be the one carrying the jewel during more time because he was the closest to you, he wasn't able to get used to it. Jimin's perfect skin turned pale and sweaty if he had the Cornerstone for a long period of time. The same happened with Jin, though he avoided carrying it as usually as Jimin had to.

Probably because it terrifies them. Yeah. The Cornerstone killed six of them that day, remember?

Your eyes travelled to Taehyung's face; he was clenching his jaw hard, but apart from that, nothing revealed how much he actually hated that medallion. He took it from Jin's hand and put it around his neck. The jewel shone on his chest when a ray of sunlight hit its silvery surface. His eyes shadened almost instantly, and he cowered a little, as if someone had just put an enormous weight on his shoulders. The strap tensed abruptly, like claiming your attention. You felt so bad for the three of them and so thirsty of your former power that you stepped in almost without realizing.

"I could be more helpful if you just let me carry it again," maybe your tone of voice shown a little too much how eager you were for the Cornerstone, because the three men looked at you eye widened, almost scared, "I- I mean, I know you don't like having it and I could do a lot of things, and-

"Don't even think about it," Taehyung said, abruptly, almost harshly.

You didn't push any further, because you knew that would probably had set all their alarms. And you didn't want the Alphas to know that you were trying to recover the medallion even if that's what you needed to do, because how the hell did they expect you to protect them if they wouldn't give you your weapon?

Jimin cleared his throat in order to break the awkward and tense atmosphere that settled between the four of you like dripping and dense fog. He stood up from his stool.

"Well, I'll see you later then, Luna. I have to check on the pups at the Nursery." He bowed his head goodbye to you and to his hyungs before heading to the back door of the kitchen.

You watched him go before turning your head to the Beta to your right, he was already watching you when you locked your eyes with him. Taehyung tilted his head to the corridor. "Come on, it's almost midday."

You got up from the stool, handing your bowl to Jin. He seemed to be annoyed by the situation, but resigned to it anyway. You sighed silently and tried to ease his obvious disagreement.

"It was delicious, Jin, thank you," he hummed, accepting your praise and the bowl, still refusing to look at you, so you pressed a bit more, "can I have seconds at dinner?"

He glared at you, putting his spoon in the steamy pot again. "You'll get bellyache, missy. A balanced diet is essential for a prompt recovery," he turned your back to you, placing the bowl in a washbowl besides the counter. Without even turning to look at you, Jin let out a loud sigh before partially turning his face over his right shoulder. "But I can make it for lunch tomorrow if you want."

You nodded, satisfied, and turned around to follow Taehyung out of the kitchen. You tried to keep a sufficient distance behind him so as not to engage in any superficial and awkward conversation, but close enough not to appear strange or be noticed. Your footsteps on the creaking wooden floor filled the heavy silence between you and accompanied you until you reached the door. When the Beta opened the door and let you go first, you had no choice but to surrender and prepare for the uncomfortable conversation that awaited you from the Pack House to wherever he wanted to take you.

Stepping out onto the porch, the cold air of early spring filled your lungs and immediately cleared your nose. The sun timidly shone through translucent clouds that opened up in large gaps here and there. Numerous puddles of muddy water surrounded the homestead on all sides, the result of roof drippings, from which the last remnants of winter snow had already disappeared. The path that crossed the pack village like a central axis was also muddy and filled with puddles where children jumped and frolicked.

Taehyung cleared his throat to get your attention, and you snapped back to reality, realizing that he was already waiting for you at the bottom of the porch stairs. You apologized under your breath as you hurried to catch up with him, jumping over one of the puddles to avoid getting your boots dirty. He waited for you to reach his side before walking again. The Cornerstone shone once more on his chest as the young man turned towards the clearing, dazzling you in the process. There was something mocking and sarcastic about the way the medallion seemed to seek your attention all the time, as if it wanted to remind you that it was there, and that you had to reach it even if you couldn't. Taehyung didn't miss the glance you cast at the jewel, but as soon as you realized that the Beta was watching you, you looked away as if you had been caught doing something wrong.

"I'm sorry we have to do this," he said, turning his gaze forward. "Carrying the Cornerstone in front of you without allowing you to touch it, and being close to it all the time, but it's Jungkook and Namjoon's orders."

You clenched your fists inside the sleeves of your shirt. You hated not finding any trace of mockery in his voice. He should revel in it, be happy to see you suffer because you couldn't wear the pendant around your neck. He should laugh at you, feel satisfied by carrying the Cornerstone and forcing you to be near it without even touching it. But no, his apologies seemed genuine. And you hated it. You hated not finding the hatred that you were supposed to receive from him.

What are you playing at, Taehyung?

That question had been swirling in your mind relentlessly for the past two days, and no matter how much you wanted to find an answer, you couldn't. And you didn't have the courage to confront him directly and demand answers because he had already given them to you. He trusted you because Jimin did.

You shook your head, shrugging to downplay the matter. "It's okay, I understand, or at least I'm trying to. I'll get used to it."

Taehyung nodded without saying a word, and you both fell into silence again. The truth was, you didn't understand it, nor did you understand what the Alphas were waiting for to return the Cornerstone to you, since it was the only way you could fight and defend them in case Sangyu decided to make his entrance. You sighed, avoiding another puddle languishing in the middle of the road.

It was becoming hard to ignore the leash that tied you to the medallion, which tightened more frequently and stronger. The strands of energy weaving around you grew brighter every day, even in broad daylight, even when far from the medallion. And now that you had it closer, now that you could almost touch the Cornerstone, it even seemed like you could reach them.

You reached out to them experimentally, hoping to see them disappear as they always did as soon as you tried. But no, they didn't disappear. You brushed against them. The leash tightened so abruptly that you almost stumbled over a stone in the path. Taehyung stiffened at your side and stopped, clearing his throat, almost coughing, as if he had choked on a nut. Your blood ran cold, and you were almost afraid to look at him, fearing that somehow he knew what you had done. When you turned around, you saw that he had brought a hand to his chest and was frowning, and he also turned to look at you.

You tried to play it off. "Is something wrong?"

Taehyung seemed to consider his words for a moment before shaking his head and continuing to walk.

"No. It's nothing, let's continue."

Of course, you didn't insist. The sooner he forgot about it, the better for you. Still, the pounding of your heart and the trembling of your hands did not diminish in the slightest. One thing was clear: you had managed to reach the strands of light without even wearing the Cornerstone, which until then, was thought to be impossible. No High Priestess of Ilsan had ever achieved anything like that before, of course, none had spent so much time without the stone. Without daring to move your head from side to side to avoid drawing the Beta's attention, you saw from the corner of your eye that the strands of light still shone brightly around you, even more than before. The leash was so tight that it almost seemed about to physically drag you towards Taehyung.

There was also another thing that was clear, he had felt it. You didn't know how much, or how, or why, but he had noticed something. You squeezed and loosened your fingers trying to calm the beats of your heart, which pounded frantically against your ribs, at this rate, you were sure that all the werewolves in the pack could perceive your distress and nervousness from miles away. There were many things you hid from the members of the pack, perhaps out of pure instinct, because you still didn't trust them enough to tell them. And although you highly doubted that it was a good start for a war alliance, it seemed even more dangerous for them to know what you had just discovered. They kept the medallion out of your reach precisely so that you couldn't use your power for the time being, and if it came to their ears that you could use the Cornerstone to channel that power without having to wear it, the Moon knows what they would do to try to keep you under control.

The memory of the darkness, the cold, and your sanity unraveling like sand between your fingers sent a deep chill sweeping over you. No, you couldn't go back to the isolation cell again. So you stayed silent and kept the secret. Another one.

In an even more uncomfortable silence, you arrived at the Agora, where you could see for the first time and in all its splendor the morning market of the pack. You didn't know that there were so many people living in the Clearing until that moment, and it was the first time you had seen so many souls gathered in one place since the night of your escape from Ilsan. Anyway, it could never overshadow the market days of the chaotic capital of the Rowan Empire. The circular plaza was filled with wooden stalls covered with colorful fabrics, forming a smaller circle following the shape of the Agora around the effigy of the Moon Goddess, which rose in the center of the place.

There were people of all ages scattered in the square, many of them leaving offerings to the goddess, while others walked among the market stalls, inspecting the materials and chatting animatedly with the owners of the stalls. In Ilsan, the markets were the epicenter of theft and fraud, but there, like everything else that happened in the Clearing, everything seemed to move at a different pace.

Something you did notice and couldn't help but ask about was that no one carried any kind of currency on them.

"We don't believe in the monetary system that humans use," Taehyung explained, shrugging as you immersed yourselves in the crowd, "it's much simpler for us to trade with goods or ration cards. Each family in the pack specializes in manufacturing something that we all need, so we simply use exchange to have everything. When that system doesn't work, we pay with ration cards, which are exchanged for something from the pack's common warehouse: grain, wool, wood... Whatever is needed."

That left you as amazed as it did perplexed. Until then, you were unaware that a community could function in such a simple and effective way; it was nothing more than a utopia for a population as large as Ilsan or the great city-states of the South. Once again, the werewolves surprised you with their civilization, often much more advanced than those who called them beasts.

"Don't you ever have problems with that?" you asked, puzzled, while dodging two women who were calmly discussing the value of a ball of wool. "I thought that it is impossible to maintain a completely egalitarian society; there will always be someone who has more than the others."

Taehyung shrugged, without turning to look at you. "We're not a society like yours, Luna, we're a family. But to answer your question, of course we have problems, and not just with the distribution of our resources. But don't worry, Jungkook and Namjoon handle them wonderfully."

Somehow, it didn't seem strange to you to think that the pack operated like the perfectly oiled machine it was thanks to the leadership of both Alphas. You didn't know much about the pack leaders at the moment, nor how their predecessors managed the position, but you had met many powerful men throughout your life as High Priestess, and somehow you knew that none of them could hold a candle to Jungkook or Namjoon.

Call it intuition or experience, but deep down you knew. If the packs had survived Sangyu's attacks, with no wars or internal disputes and with systems as simple but delicate as those, it was because the leaders were exceptionally good at their jobs. Without another word, you followed Taehyung through the rest of the market, enduring with all possible composure the hard stares from all the pack members you crossed paths with.

Since the day you were allowed out of isolation, word had spread throughout the pack that the witch from Ilsan who ruined the last night of the blue moon was still there. By that morning, everyone in the Clearing knew who you were and what you were supposedly going to do for them. If any of them appreciated your efforts or your goal of protecting them from Sangyu, none of them let you know. Quite the opposite.

When you left the Agora and the hustle and bustle of the market behind, you could afford to release the breath you didn't know you had been holding, though not for long. Beyond the circular plaza, the village still extended a bit further. In that part of the clearing were the largest and oldest-looking houses, probably for larger families; there were scattered wooden buildings that looked like barns at first glance, and the rest of the space was made up of meadows surrounded by wooden fences where several domestic herds of cows, goats, pigs, and some chickens and hens grazed peacefully.

There was one building that stood out above the rest. It was also made of wood, circular, and covered by a dome of branches and huge leaves that almost seemed to be your size; it had circular windows forming a clerestory at the highest part and double doors that seemed as heavy as a mountain. You wouldn't have known what that building was for if the answer wasn't precisely at its doors.

There were two elderly people wrapped in white and immaculate clothes. They reminded you of the ones you had to wear as a Novice and later as High Priestess; white was the color of the moon and purity, so said the Patriarch. A nasty shiver ran down your back as you remembered it. Those same clothes were worn by Elder Sang and the other elder who had waited for you to come out of the cell that morning.

So those must be members of the Gerusia. And probably the building was their headquarters, or something like that. They seemed to be discussing something in a low voice, sitting on a long stone bench at the entrance of the place. One of them saw you and pointed you out to his colleague, whispering something in his ear. The looks of hatred and arrogance they directed at you before getting up and entering the building did not go unnoticed by Taehyung, nor did the spit that one of them spat at your feet as you passed by.

If you were in Ilsan, half a dozen Praetorii would have jumped on them just for looking you in the eye; for not bowing to you, they would have been whipped and would have spent three nights in Ryu's dungeons; for spitting at your feet, they would be on their way to the gallows to be hanged.

However, you forced yourself to ignore them and look the other way. Taehyung didn't do anything to correct their behavior either, though you understood. Only the Alphas could confront an elder, especially from the Gerusia. Who knows the trouble that would arise if the murderer witch and foreigner committed such a disrespect with a council elder.

The more unnoticed you passed, the better; the fewer reasons you gave them to hate you, the better. If that meant having to endure treatments as humiliating and degrading as those, you would. You just wished that all the bad things they did to you would come back to them someday. Multiplied by several figures, if possible. The Goddess was wise, and wove your destinies accordingly.

The Goddess shapes the back for the burden. You would have to settle for that for the moment.

"Don't take it personally, Luna," the Beta half apologized when the men had closed the doors behind them, "they take the Sacred Law too seriously. Someday they'll give in even if it hurts their pride."

You sighed, vaguely nodding your head and suppressing the urge to demand to know why he didn't spit at you like they did. He had reasons enough to do it.

"Is there a section in your Sacred Law that obligates you to spit at me?" you asked, knowing that the tone you used hinted at more bitterness than you would like to show.

Taehyung bit his cheeks for a few seconds as he thought about his response. "Not exactly, but there are some about how our enemies are treated, especially those with whom we have had direct confrontations."

You raised an eyebrow. As far as you understood since you were born, werewolves were hostile to anyone who got too close to the Yerin forest, let alone to those who dared to set foot in their territory. You had heard many legends of people who went and never returned, especially travelers and explorers who tried to open a faster and safer route to Ghaleen and the Eastern territories through Yerin. The Steppe Road that descended to Imhan Pass around the forest to the south was plagued by bandits and mercenaries in recent years.

"Do you mean basically all outsiders who step into the forest? I imagine that for the elders, anyone who isn't like you is against you."

Taehyung stopped and turned to look at you, hands on hips and a serious face that made you want to be able to shut your mouth as you did in Ilsan. You also stopped walking and took a step back to keep a more prudent distance from him; the Beta frowned at that last gesture and let his arms fall to his sides as he sighed, as if trying to explain to a child for the tenth time why he couldn't eat a whole box of candy at once.

"Look, Luna, I understand that the elders are not saints in your devotion and that their behavior is not appropriate, but it's not right for you to assume things about how we work here when you have no idea," well, you deserved that for being a loudmouth, "and even less as if we were inferior to you. We are not savages, we were not the ones who attacked and ended the other party's diplomatic mission, or were we?”

Okay. That was a low blow, but probably deserved, if we're being honest. Much to your chagrin and to the detriment of your pride, you averted your gaze with pursed lips, not daring to respond. Taehyung understood the message of surrender and sighed again, softening his expression, though he still seemed annoyed. Did you want to anger him so you could feel guilty about his grandmother's situation more comfortably? Well, probably, you couldn't deny it.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought up that topic again," you almost wanted to punch him for apologizing and making himself look like the bad guy in that situation. He had every right to be angry.

"I'm sorry, that was foolish of me," you conceded, looking back at him with some reluctance. "I don't think you're inferior, or savages, in fact... you're the most civilized community I've ever known."

Taehyung nodded, accepting the apology. "You must learn to understand our way of life and, above all, the Sacred Law. Although it may not seem like it, the Gerusia is wise and helps the Alphas a lot in decision-making and law enforcement... for all of us, not just outsiders."

He said the last part in a lower voice, with a more restrained tone, as if it were something he shouldn't mention. You frowned as your mind connected dots at a speed that impressed even you, and the answer came clear as a candle lit in the darkness of a cave.

"Were they the ones who decided to expel the... rogues?" you asked, also instinctively lowering your voice.

Taehyung glanced at you for a couple of seconds with narrowed eyes, perhaps wondering how you knew that. When you thought he was going to speak to answer you, he turned to walk away, physically avoiding your question as well. You didn't waste time and hurried to catch up with him to walk by his side; one of his strides was like two of yours, but the height difference wasn't going to stop you this time. You remembered that although you had ended eight members of his pack, they had done the same to your sisters from the Ilsan Temple. Well, technically it wasn't them. However, the expulsion of the wanderers from the pack was what gave them free rein to attack Ilsan without remorse in the first place, and if that hadn't happened, you would never have had to take anyone's life. It's not that you wanted to apologize or justify your actions in that way, but it was nothing more than the relationship of cause and effect. The Patriarch always said that chaos is a ladder; and that everything you do, every decision you make, is a step that determines the next one. The flutter of a butterfly in Vinland Desert could unleash a storm in Terlheslin. In this way, everything you do in the present will affect the future, just as the present is what it is because of the decisions made in the past. The whole ancestral hatred relationship you maintained with the werewolves was actually the top of the ladder; the product of a chain of terrible events.

Probably that part of the story where the werewolves massacred half of the Ecclesia was deliberately ignored by all members of the pack, so they could call you a monster and hate you without feeling any guilt. The Beta didn't answer you, but you didn't give up. Although Namjoon and Jungkook had told you the truth during your last conversation in the cell, you knew they hadn't told you everything.

Who were the rogues and why did they hate humans so much?

"I know it was like that. That they were the ones who attacked Ilsan, not the werewolves of the Clearing," you saw that the young man listened to you despite everything because he looked at you from the corner of his eye. "The Alphas told me in the isolation cell before they took me out. But they didn't tell me who-"

"That's a subject I can't talk about, Luna," Taehyung interrupted you, not slowing down his pace. "It's not up to me to tell you. If Namjoon and Jungkook didn't, there's a reason... We've arrived, come on."

You sighed. There were many unresolved mysteries about the pack's past swirling around in your head. Both you and they were hiding things from each other, although you hoped it wasn't as obvious to them that you weren't telling the whole truth as it was to you. That only evidenced what was more than clear: neither the pack trusted you, nor did you trust the pack, no matter how kind Jimin and Jin were to you.

You didn't add anything else, although you wouldn't have been able to if you wanted to. You had reached one of the last houses in the Clearing: one that was especially large, dark, and regal-looking. There was a pergola with a roof of moss and branches near the entrance, under which a large group of people were chatting animatedly around a large table. A squad of children ran around playing, jumping in puddles and climbing nearby trees. A huge tin pot was placed next to the table, over a fire, bubbling emitting a warm smell of homemade food that immediately opened your appetite even though you had just eaten a little while ago. A young and slender woman stirred the contents of the cauldron with a ladle the size of her forearm. Only when you approached close enough, you saw that she was carrying a baby wrapped in a cloth tied to her back.

"Dasom noona!" Taehyung called out as you left the path to approach the front garden of the house where the pergola was.

Everyone turned to look when they heard the Beta, greeting him warmly and patting him on the back. Not knowing quite how to proceed, you stayed a little behind in silence. When the werewolf men's eyes moved from Taehyung to you, they lost any friendly glow they might have had at first. However, the only look that really made you feel intimidated was that of the woman next to the cauldron; there was a latent and icy hatred hidden in her Beta blue irises.

"Is it her?" she asked, shifting her gaze to Taehyung. He nodded and the young woman looked you over again in a way that made you feel as uncomfortable as self-conscious. "She seems frail, I can see her bones under all that clothing from here."

Her words were poisoned, and although they were prepared to hurt you, what really hurt was the wave of poorly disguised laughter that the comment raised among the rest of the people who witnessed it from the table. You clenched your fists behind your back until your knuckles turned white, resisting the call of the Cornerstone, which whispered from Taehyung's chest, challenging you to pull the strands that tied you to the woman to shut her up in the worst possible way.

Taehyung wasn't laughing. "Dasom, please."

The woman rolled her eyes and turned to you, leaving the ladle inside the cauldron. Taehyung seemed to take it as a sign of peace, because he sighed before looking at you.

"Luna, this is Dasom, my older sister," the Beta said, pointing at the woman with one hand, "and Namjoon's mate."

You couldn't hide the surprise that this new information caused you. You didn't know that Namjoon had a mate, and apparently, at least one child, although it didn't seem strange to you in some way. He was a young and healthy Alpha, after all. For a fleeting moment, you wondered if Jungkook had also formed his own family.

Because you took his away. Or at least, part of it.

In addition to clenching your fists, you pressed your lips together. You were sure that when you opened your hands, your nails would have dug into your skin so much that they would have left four crescent-shaped marks. Then, Dasom's aversion in her eyes when she saw you made more sense.

You had also killed her grandmother that day.

This will haunt you for life.

"Well, let's see what you're made of, Priestess," she commented, in such a mocking way that you would have given her a murderous look if it weren't because suddenly you believed you deserved it more. "Have you ever made willow baskets or herded a flock?"

Dasom knew the answer, she probably knew the obligations of the priestesses and the luxurious lifestyle they led. She knew that you had never seen those domestic animals in your life unless it was for some sacrifice or served at a banquet for the nobles of Ilsan. She just wanted to humiliate you a little more.

You let her do it. You shook your head, still with your eyes fixed on the ground. You heard the cruel laughter of her companions again, who seemed to be having a great time with the situation. Taehyung didn't intervene again.

In the misty morning: wet meadows, dried leaves, and absent birds. It was late autumn. Even the streets of the normally chaotic citadel of Ilsan were immersed in a sluggish lethargy that day. But that was only the calm before the storm.

Inside the Imperial Palace, the world was completely different. It seemed like a bubble of madness and frenzy in a calm sea. The recent times had been tense for life at the court after Empress Yuran's multiple and tragic miscarriages, but nothing had prepared humans for what was about to happen that day.

And least of all, you.

Six Praetorii escorted you along one of the palace's immense corridors. That military order, expressly at your service, had been founded the day after the massacre of the Ilsan Temple to prevent something like that from happening again.

As you turned a corner in the hallway, the muffled sound of a crowd shouting and booing reached your ears. You swallowed hard, halting your steps suddenly. The Praetorii immediately stopped without breaking their ring formation around you. The Guard Commander addressed you without looking into your eyes, always with his head tilted down.

"Luna, we must proceed. They are waiting for you."

You nodded, but still did nothing to move from the spot. You knew what you were going to do, you knew what they were going to force you to do. When at dawn the City Guard brought word to the palace that they had sighted and captured a pack of werewolves in the vicinity of Ilsan, you already knew that neither the Patriarch nor the Empress would let them go unpunished for that.

Not after they had murdered all the novices and priestesses of Ilsan in a single day.

The Commander shifted his weight from one leg to the other, uncomfortable, unsure of how to make you walk. They couldn't touch you unless it was to physically protect you, after all, or speak to you disrespectfully.

"Luna, please."

To your left, the youngest soldier of them all spoke. It was Kai, the closest person to a friend you had. He was barely fifteen, seven years older than you, but he had already graduated from the military academy with all honors, which had earned him a place in the palace garrisons if he wished. Despite the strict rules surrounding the ritual procedure by which people were supposed to communicate with you, Kai looked you in the eyes and spoke to you as what you were: a little scared girl.

That's what gave you the strength to start walking. All the soldiers followed you as if orbiting around you. The corridor turned again a little further ahead and ended at a stone archway that led to a huge inner courtyard. The Empress's Courtyard, the main one in the entire palace. All the permanent resident nobles of the court were there, as well as most of the inhabitants of Ilsan.

The Patriarch had allowed the entry of commoners into the palace, a historic milestone in the memory of the Sacred City. The crowd formed a wide circle around the center of the courtyard, where some City Guards held motionless a series of furry shapes that you couldn't clearly distinguish from your position at the courtyard entrance, but that you knew perfectly well what they were.

Although the boos and insults toward the werewolves didn't cease, the nobles and commoners parted left and right to open a path for you. The Patriarch was there, facing the werewolves, waiting for you. You moved through the people like a condemned woman to the gallows.

Although you were going to be the executioner.

It wasn't strange to you that the Patriarch had summoned you to take care of that task. After all, it was always the High Priestess who executed important prisoners of war. There was a whole ritual ceremony for sacred executions in the name of the Goddess. But they usually took place in private.

That wasn't a ritual, it was a public execution, probably for the entertainment of Ilsan's inhabitants, to humiliate the werewolves as much as possible in their last moments of life. The closer you got to the center of the courtyard, the sicker you felt. As much as you hated the werewolves, you didn't want to do it, just the thought made bile rise in your throat, threatening to make you vomit what little you had for breakfast.

Your distressed situation awakened the bond with the Cornerstone, and the leash twisted, eagerly pulling, taking your breath away. Three years had passed since the Junction, and your connection with the medallion was more than consolidated, but you were still very susceptible to sudden changes in the energy flows exchanged with the Stone.

So, by the time you reached the center of the courtyard and the Patriarch forcefully turned your arm to face the crowd, you were bathed in a cold sweat that only increased your paleness. The Patriarch raised a hand to silence the crowd, while discreetly digging his nails into your shoulder with the other.

“Citizens of Ilsan and nobles of Her Imperial Majesty Yuran of Baegyum's Court; may health, life, and prosperity be granted unto you” the Patriarch began to speak, his voice echoing naturally off the courtyard walls, “behold the cause of our infinite rage and sorrow, behold the murderers of our Sisters and our former High Priestess; may her travel be brief.”

The crowd rose in a wave of indignation that materialized in the form of insults and more boos. Someone threw a stone, and although you had your back to the beasts, you heard a howl of pain from one of them. You had counted eight. The Patriarch let the people vent their anger for a few seconds before silencing them again.

“As dictated by the laws of the Sacred Scripture, it is our Luna who must end the lives of these impious creatures.”

The grip the man maintained on your shoulder tightened, and you were sure it would leave a bruise for days. The Patriarch turned to look over his shoulder at the werewolves as if they were insects stuck to the sole of his shoe.

“Blood must have blood, and that spilled in the Great Temple must still be avenged.”

Once again, the courtyard filled with voices that seemed unintelligible to you; the sounds reached you muffled, distant, as if they were very far away, yet they filled your ears in a way that almost felt like they would burst. Blood must have blood. That was perhaps the most important sacred quote of the entire dominant religion in the Rowan Empire, even for werewolves. Everyone knew it and respected it, followed it and practiced it.

The Goddess's singular commandment. And also your order to follow, that was your starting gun. The nobles and commoners, still relentless in their efforts to humiliate the creatures with their derogatory and degrading comments and the occasional stone, looked at you with fury emitting dangerous sparks in their eyes. That was the flash of collective hysteria.

The Patriarch, in the face of your apparent passivity, gave you a shove toward the werewolves that nearly sent you straight to the ground. The creatures bared their teeth and huddled in place, bristling defensively.

Indeed, there were eight. Three gray ones in different shades; two redheads and two browns, one of them significantly older-looking than the other. Finally, in the center, there was a huge wolf, much larger than the rest. It was a pitch-black color, its eyes red, staring at you in such a threatening way that you almost recoiled.

It was an Alpha. The Cornerstone had no effect on it, which meant that...

“Avenge your sisters, High Priestess” urged the Patriarch, in the same tone of voice he used to preach his previous speech. “Avenge the Sacred City, the work of our ancestors, the foundations of our world.”

You trembled so violently that the medallion swayed on your chest, emitting pale flashes when the sun hidden in the fog reached its surface with some of its rays. The leash tightened abruptly, making you cough.

A part of you wanted it, you couldn't lie. A part of you wanted to return all the harm they had done to you, added up and multiplied by a thousand. The other part of you, much larger, was horrified by your own thoughts.

“Do it, Priestess!” the Patriarch shouted, starting to lose patience.

The crowd's shouts increased, some beginning to move towards you. And yet, you heard nothing but your own heart pumping blood at an astonishing speed in your ears. You stood petrified, staring into the red eyes of the black wolf in front of you.

Next to him, the older-looking brown wolf growled fiercely at you, showing canines as long as your skinny hand. The rest of their packmates did the same, trying to wriggle under the ropes that held them down to the ground. The Alpha was silent, impassive, with his nose held high and a haughty gaze that made you feel even smaller.

The Patriarch took two steps forward and grabbed you by the back of your neck with claw-like fingers, forcing you to stoop abruptly to be at the beasts' level. Some nobles suddenly fell silent, and the boos wavered at the holy man's gesture.

No one, not even him, was allowed to touch you. But everyone seemed to forget that small detail when they heard the words the Patriarch articulated, leaning over you towards your ear. He didn't whisper them, he shouted them in your ear so that everyone could hear.

“Don't you remember, Luna?” he accused, digging his nails into both sides of your neck. “Don't you remember your sisters' corpses? How these monsters ripped their lives away in front of you? Kill them! I command you in the name of the Goddess!”

The shouts of indignation filled the courtyard once again, and this time you heard them as if they were shouting in your ear, echoing, as if inside a cave. Tears bathed your cheeks and flooded your eyes when you opened them to face your fate. The leash writhed with such fury that you thought it would break, and before you could even realize it, you had stretched towards the strands of light that connected you to the werewolves. You grabbed them tightly and with a sharp pull, broke them.

The werewolves' bodies fell to the ground immediately, lifeless.

Silence fell in the Empress's Courtyard like in a tomb, only the echoes of the boos accompanied you for a few seconds before dying in the vastness of the air. No one dared to utter a word. A dull ringing settled in your ears, and your vision blurred, you staggered and fell painfully to your knees in front of the Alpha, who was still alive. You had never exerted so much energy in the three years you had been bound to the Stone, and suddenly you felt as if a herd of wild stallions from the steles had trampled over you.

The creature had remained as petrified as you at first, and moments passed before it reacted. The werewolf let out a chilling howl that made the crowd take a few steps back, screaming in fear as they cowered behind the line of security formed by the Praetorian Guard.

The Alpha tried to rise and lunge at you, but the ropes and the soldiers holding him back prevented it. The Patriarch pulled your arm back to move you away from it, dragging you across the courtyard floor, while turning to his personal escort.

“Bring me the Reaper's Tear!” he ordered. “Let's put an end to this once and for all.”

That seemed to snap you out of your stupor, because you turned your head towards him like a spring and began shaking it compulsively to refuse, while trying to free yourself from his grip. You knew what that Reaper's Tear was and what it would signify.

"No! I don't want to! Abeoji, no! Please, Abeoji. Don't make me do it, I-"

The slap silenced you, and the nobles and commoners exchanged astonished looks and whispers. Such aggression was punishable by death. You brought your free hand to your left cheek, which was beginning to redden. The characteristic metallic taste of blood filled your mouth.

"You will, Luna," the Patriarch seemed to hesitate, perhaps afraid of his own actions. There would be no way for the Ecclesia to overlook this, “it is your sacred duty.”

A soldier approached with a long white wooden case and bowed to open it for you. He didn't meet your eyes when he said, "The Reaper's Tear, Luna."

You shook your head frantically, trying to pull away, but the Patriarch pulled your arm towards the case. Inside was a double-edged saber, almost as long as your forearm. Embedded in the hilt was a white gem in the shape of a tear. The scriptures said it was a tear of the Goddess solidified into a precious stone, found at the source of the Idris River, in the Northern Mountains.

You had always feared it, but never as much as in that moment. It was an execution weapon, used for special cases where the Anchor Stone was ineffective. It was mainly intended for High Priestesses who had broken their vows in some way.

The Patriarch gripped the saber and closed your fingers around the hilt, using his own hand to cover yours and prevent you from letting go of the weapon. The previously noisy crowd had become as silent as a group of millennia-old statues. The Patriarch looked at the soldiers holding the wolf down with a grim expression.

"Hold the ropes tight. If anything happens to our Luna, you will face the consequences."

In response, the men pulled on the ropes holding the creature to the ground. The Alpha was forced to shrink further into the ground, so much so that he couldn't even lift his head from the cobblestones, and the rope dug into the skin of the pack leader, eliciting a deep growl as he showed all his teeth. You sobbed again, though the Patriarch didn't care, he kept pulling you towards him. There was no way you could escape his grip, as he held you firmly against him with one arm, while grabbing your hand with the other.

"Abeoji, Abeoji, please. I beg you-

“Silence, child,” the man cut you off, half-whispering by your ear, “High Priestesses do not plead.”

You had been explained many times since you passed the Junction. You must not ask; you must demand. And you wanted to do it, you wanted by all means to regain control of the situation and not have to beg anyone. By the time you wanted to realize it, you were eagerly seeking the strands that connected you to the Alpha and thus give him a clean, dignified, and painless death.

But almost all the power you had accumulated in the Cornerstone had dissipated like mist after killing seven wolves at once, so the strands of light were very weak, flickering, like stars in the distance. In addition to that, and as you already knew, an Alpha's strands were not reachable for you; they avoided your touch like oil avoids water.

The Patriarch stood in front of the wolf, still holding you with a force that numbed your whole body. He raised his arm, dragging your armed hand with him, ready to give him a cold-blooded death. Your tear-filled eyes barely managed to discern what was happening in front of you, and you weren't even aware that you were screaming. Still, for a moment as ephemeral as eternal, the gaze of the pack leader came clear and unobstructed into your field of vision.

It had stopped growling, and its body languished on the ground, defeated. In its sad, red eyes, there was no hatred.

There was forgiveness.

You cried louder, screamed louder, writhed more violently. You frantically searched for the strands again, but this time not the ones that connected you to the wolf.

You wanted the Patriarch's. Your arm was already descending on the Alpha's head; you stretched as far as you could towards the strands, trying to grasp them, but it was already too late.

Your eyes snapped open, and the darkness of your room welcomed you back to the land of the living. You opened your mouth, seeking air with your irregular, shallow breaths, your hands clenched into tight fists gripping the sheets between your fingers. You instantly realized you weren't the only thing you were holding onto tightly.

The strands were there, and you clung to them as if your life depended on it. But there was a problem; you weren't wearing the Cornerstone, obviously, and it wasn't even near you. You had no idea what happened to the pendant at night, but you had somehow managed to tap into its power to channel it anyway.

You let go immediately, scared, terrified. How was it even possible? You had grasped the strands in real life after dreaming about it. And even more panic set in, settling in the pit of your stomach like a tombstone at the entrance of a crypt.

Your body reacted before your mind did, and you were already sitting up on the mattress, hugging your knees tightly. What if you had unintentionally hurt someone? In your dream, you had killed seven wolves, just as it happened on that fateful day. Those nightmares had been more than recurrent in recent days, and in fact, there hadn't been a single night where you hadn't dreamed of something similar. But none had ever been so concrete, so detailed.

So realistic. Just as it had happened that day.

In the darkness of the room, you huddled in place, trembling. It wasn't because of the cold, as the Pack House had a heating system that left you as amazed as the rest of the innovations the Clear presented in contrast to the wild and grotesque image you had been instilled with about werewolves. It wasn't the cold, no, it was fear. Of yourself and what you could unwittingly do.

You found it impossible to fall back asleep for the rest of the night, even though you tried. You needed all the energy you could gather for the tasks that would be assigned to you from then on, and it wasn't as if your body had fully recovered from everything that had happened since you arrived at the pack. But you couldn't complain. Keeping silent and obeying was all you could do.

You thought it would be easier to earn respect among the werewolves, or so you had imagined when Namjoon and Jungkook proposed to support them in the upcoming war in exchange for your "freedom" and the promise that Hana would be safe. Not that you had any other option but to accept; playing with Hana's well-being was inconceivable for you, and you wouldn't have endured being isolated and sane for much longer. At that moment, it had seemed like a beneficial deal for both parties, but you were increasingly realizing that it actually only made things easier for them. You, on the other hand, remained in the same position as before. Maybe out of a cell, but controlled, deprived of your vital energy source, watched, and hated.

What had really changed?

That same question was on your mind when later that morning, you saw a cow up close for the first time.

Dasom had taken you to the corrals on the south side of the Clear, where the sun warmed the grass most of the day. That was where the cows gave birth to their calves and where they were raised for the first few days before being moved to the greener, fresher pastures in the northern area. Anyone would think that a small newborn calf next to its mother was an endearing sight to immortalize forever as a memory; Mother Nature in her kindest form; the circle of life, blah, blah, blah.

It terrified you from the moment you heard their lowing up close.

Digging your heels into the muddy ground, you came to a sudden stop. Dasom, the Cornerstone hanging on her chest, looked at you, raising an eyebrow, with a smirk of superiority that would have made you angry if you weren't too busy trying not to run in the opposite direction.

"What are you waiting for, priestess?" she asked, leaning her arms on the corral fence. “Come on, get in. Cows don't herd themselves.”

Clenching and unclenching your fists under the sleeves of your shirt, you tiptoed to the gate of the corral. The cows watched from inside every step you took as they chewed the grass leisurely. They didn't seem to get upset when you infiltrated their domains, nor when you approached them and their offspring. One of them emitted a deep moo, to which two others responded.

The sound startled you, and you flinched. You heard a small wave of barely contained laughter rise behind you, and when you looked over your shoulder, you saw several Hippei and other pack members watching you with a mix of mockery and curiosity that made you blush with embarrassment. Dasom smiled, satisfied and pleased with herself.

Determined not to let them have fun at your expense, you turned to face the cows. Come on, you had survived a city takeover, an arrow shot, and had lived until then in a pack of werewolves. How could a seemingly harmless grass-eater like that scare you?

Pulling on the mothers' bells to guide them into the corral stable wasn't so difficult, especially because they followed each other. They seemed accustomed to it because the cow you chose to lead first didn't even moo when you started pulling on her collar. The rest followed at a painfully slow pace, but eventually, they all ended up inside. The calves didn't stray from their mothers, so they naturally moved with them.

Except for one. It was smaller than the rest, and more agile. Although you tried several times and in different ways, under the mocking gaze of the other werewolves, the calf didn't even let you get close to it. Luckily, it still didn't have horns and was too young to really hurt you when it pushed you out of its way with a headbutt. It sent you backwards onto the ground in a puddle of mud, and it entered the stable alone.

With a heavy heart, you rose from the ground, trying to maintain your dignity as best as you could, and slammed the barn door shut. As you turned to look at Dasom, she didn't bother hiding the smirk of satisfaction on her face.

"We may question your methods, priestess, but not your results," the laughter was widespread. Some of those present began to move away to tend to their respective tasks, seeing that the show was over. "Alright, go tidy up. I'll talk to Namjoon about your next assignment."

You didn't even spare her a last glance before bowing your head slightly and slipping away from the corral towards the Pack House. The mud made your already soaked clothes cling to your body like a second skin. You hugged your torso and quickened your pace. You prayed not to run into anyone familiar until you reached your room, but you didn't even reach the main door before it swung open.

You managed to halt your steps before colliding head-on with someone.

Please let it be Jin. Please let it be Jin.

"Luna?" you cursed under your breath in every language you knew as you recognized Jungkook's voice. You didn't have the courage to look up. The embarrassment tingled in your cheeks. "For Moon's sake, what happened to you?"

Seeing that you didn't react, the Alpha gently lifted your chin with the back of his index finger. His touch sent shivers down your body, and you swallowed hard. Now you were more than obliged to answer.

"Dasom thought I could use some experience herding a flock," you admitted quietly, avoiding eye contact.

Jungkook tried his best not to offend you with a laugh and cleared his throat, clasping his hands behind his back.

"I see, those little ones can be quite unruly. Go change or you'll catch a cold with your clothes this wet," you hugged yourself tighter, feeling mortified, trying to make yourself small in place. Seeing your discomfort, he seemed to want to change the subject. "A calf knocked me to the ground the first time I tried to herd them into the barn...," that almost drew a smile from you. "Besides, I fell flat on my face, so you've done better than me."

You dared to look at him, perhaps to see if he was teasing or being serious. He simply gave you one last half-smile before stepping aside and gesturing for you to enter the house.

You obeyed without saying another word.

That night, you dreamed again of the day you killed the wolves. And you woke up screaming, clutching the strands as tightly as if you had never left the Cornerstone.

The next day, by Jungkook's order, Hana was allowed to have breakfast with you at the Pack House. Sitting at the table in the backyard garden, she barely stopped talking long enough to swallow the oatmeal cookies that Jin, pale from carrying the Cornerstone, had specially baked for her. But it didn't matter to you; just seeing her golden skin regain its vibrant color and the sparkle of happiness in her eyes was enough comfort for you. That's how you knew your pain was worth it. Hana was happy in the Clearing. And you would be willing to return to solitary confinement as long as it stayed that way.

The pack accepted her. They adored her. Even Hoseok. Hana made flower crowns for him and Yoongi every day, and they wore them on their patrols. That sight wasn't funny enough to alleviate the terror you felt towards both Hippei. The memory of Hoseok's fangs on your neck on the night you entered Yerin was enough to make you feel so scared you could vomit.

Shortly before noon, Taehyung arrived at the house with Yeji to pick up Hana and take her with the rest of the children to help prepare the meal for the Hippei going on a long patrol. You could barely hold back the tears when Hana kissed your cheek before running off to Yeji. She waved goodbye and disappeared into the house. You knew the Alphas didn't allow you to spend much time with her to remind you who was in control, and you were grateful that Hana didn't realize those things. Everyone told her that you were very busy helping the pack (which was partly true) and that you would soon be able to spend more time together.

That was just a message to you.

Cooperate, and we'll allow you to see her.

So that's what you did. You helped Jin, now without the Cornerstone, clean the breakfast dishes and headed to the Nursery, where Jimin was with the mentioned gem, performing his own tasks of caring for the youngest pups. You were not allowed to enter the Nursery under any circumstances, so you simply knocked on the door and stepped back a few paces.

"I'm coming, Luna!" Jimin's voice was perfectly audible from the other side of the door.

Your bond with the Cornerstone churned inside you with such force that it almost made you nauseous. You took a deep breath, and upon opening your eyes, you saw the strands as vividly as if they were something physical that everyone could touch. You instinctively reached out, thirsty, hungry, but the strands avoided your touch. You brushed against them. Your whole body vibrated. Sweat began to bead on your forehead. It was agony.

You looked up at the sky. The zenith was approaching again. That thought hadn't left your mind since the moment you left the cell. If you weren't given the Cornerstone before, the stone itself would kill you when you tried to put it on, if they ever allowed you to do so. That had to happen before the Cornerstone regained its maximum energy with the Zenith.

And yet, you were sure you would need a good excuse for the Alphas to even consider the idea.

Jimin came out of the Nursery with a furrowed brow, and you immediately moved away from the strands. The Omega's face seemed to relax somewhat, and he rubbed his eyes. It was clear. The stone bearer could feel it if you tried to reach the strands. That was dangerous. But Jimin wasn't, right?

"Hello, are you okay?" you asked, trying to control the tremor in your voice.

"Yes, it's just that..." he seemed to hesitate for a second. He didn't seem very sure about admitting that wearing the stone made him feel unwell. "I'm tired. I haven't had a good night."

You forced a smile and waited for him to stand by your side to start walking. Your morning task was to weed the fields to the south of the Clearing for the upcoming planting.

"It seems we're both in the same boat, then," your words made Jimin look at you carefully for the first time. Despite starting to gain some weight and generally looking healthier, dark circles still framed your eyes.

“It must be something seasonal,” Jimin agreed, with his characteristic warm smile. Although it didn't last long. “Lately, no one sleeps well. Jungkook has been waking up the entire Clearing two nights in a row in the middle of the night...”

He suddenly fell silent, perhaps realizing that you were not a reliable member of the pack and that he shouldn't talk about those things with you. Lest you use it against him in some way. However, although that would have hurt you in a normal situation, you were too busy processing what he had just said.

Two nights in a row. The nights you woke up clutching the strands. You almost trembled. What if Jungkook found out in some way?

“I really can't imagine someone like Jungkook having a nightmare,” you said, pretending not to have attached much importance to it. “He and Namjoom don't seem like the kind of people who are... afraid of something.”

Jimin turned his gaze forward and seemed to ponder your words. You evaluated his face. He seemed on the verge of wanting to say something. His lips were pressed. There were too many things you didn't know about the members of the Pack. Everything was working against you. You needed answers. Any, at least.

You seized the opportunity.

“Jimin, what's going on?” you asked, halting your walk. If he couldn't be distracted while walking, there was a better chance that Jimin would succumb to the pressure of your questions.

He looked at you. His eyes were filled with the desire to respond. To trust. Hope surged in your chest. You didn't have time to feel bad about what you were about to do; you were too anxious for it. You reached out to the strands and deliberately brushed against them in desperation. Jimin grimaced, and his shoulders slumped. It worked; that was all it took to break down his defenses.

“The Cornerstone... I told him that getting close to it is dangerous, that it makes you sick...” His voice seemed to be dominated by a weariness that you hadn't seen in him until now. “But he doesn't listen to me.”

Did that mean that Jungkook also wore the Cornerstone? When? During the day, someone always accompanied her or was near her, except...

At night.

Was that why he woke up screaming? Did you... manage to hurt him?

“Not long after you arrived, before they sent you to the isolation cell, Jin hyung found something in one of our oldest tomes. One that was destroyed and of which we only preserved a few pages,” he spoke so softly that you had no choice but to lean in close enough to feel his breath on your face. “It said that the power of the Cornerstone only manifests if there is a living vessel, that it...”

“That it only works if the High Priestess wears it, yes,” you completed, but that wasn't all. You were aware that they knew more, and not just from what you had told them. “And also...”

“The Cornerstone must always have a bearer. Even when it's not the High Priestess. This is how the balance is maintained. If the Cornerstone is left alone for too long, without someone to carry it...”

“No one knows. It has never happened, but... It's better not to find out.”

Jimin looked up at you. You nodded. Yes, that was a basic principle. You doubted they would believe you if you tried to explain it, so you had limited yourself to saying that you needed to be close to her to avoid getting sick. That was true, but not the whole truth.

Even so, they knew it all. They knew you hadn't been entirely truthful. Your stomach tightened. A cloud covered the sun and a cold wind rose in the Clearing, tousling your hair.

“Jungkook takes care of it at night, doesn't he?”

Jimin simply nodded.

There was finally complete truth between you and the pack. If they knew that, perhaps they could understand you, perhaps they would understand that all this would be of no use if the zenith killed you. You reached out and clasped Jimin's hand. He started, but didn't pull away. You were trembling. He noticed and took your other hand, concerned.

“Luna, are you okay?”

You didn't respond immediately. Your head was spinning in every direction, evaluating every possible thing that could happen if you did what you were about to do. You looked into the Omega's eyes, and he returned an intense gaze.

You would never be completely sure if you could trust him until you tried. But you needed to trust someone for once in your life.

You couldn't do it alone.

“Jimin. I haven't been completely honest, with you or anyone, and... I'm going to be honest now.”

The Omega squeezed your hands. At no point did you see a hint of anger or mistrust. Only hope. He knew you kept secrets, just as you knew they did the same. You had to start somewhere if you wanted the alliance to make sense... and if you wanted to survive the war that was to come.

“I'm listening, Luna.”

#bangtan #bts au fanfic #bts #bts imagines #bts jungkook #bts scenarios #bts fanfction #bts werewolf au #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #red dawn

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wareagleofthemountain · 2 years ago

Text

What Do You Know of Love? (Part 2)

A/N: I’ve decided to do a part 3 as well from Tauriel’s pov. Coming soon. Enjoy!

See parts 1 and 3

Tags: @sotwk, @coopsgirl

The cause of the maryment resounding through the normally somber halls of the Mirkwood king was Yenearsira, the Winter Solstice. Marking the elvish new year.

Thranduil spent the rest of the morning seeing to his appearance, taking more care than usual to soothe every wrinkle from his robe and comb every freshly washed strand of his hair into place. He looked at his reflection approvingly in the mirror as he slowly adorned his legendary headpiece. The branches framing his cheekbones were now barren save for patches of tiny blue and white blossoms sprouting spontaneously throughout them. It was why his people treasured the crown so much, as it allowed them a small glimpse of the former beauty of their homeland.

Now, the trees were too sick to change in the seasons, and the forest had become too hostile for the migrating birds and elk to make it their haven in the Spring. The only creatures who dared take up residence in his dying land were the black ravens that cawed from the tree tops and the foul, massive spiders who made their webs in the dark caves. Even so, the snow still fell in thick sheets upon the ground.

After taking a moment to gather himself, the Elvenking deposited the necklace into the deep front pocket of his robe and strode out of his chamber to bless the festivities, signifying their beginning. Feren met him at the closed double doors that were the entrance to his throne room. For holidays, the space was cleared out to make way for the long banquet tables filled with food and a small stage that held the minstrels. At the end of the meal, the tables would be pushed back and the floor would be given to the eager dancers. At exactly midnight, the elves of Mirkwood would all gather out in the gardens and release fireworks high into the dark Winter sky.

Thranduil fixed his guard with a disapproving stare as he noticed Feren’s hands shaking as he passed Thranduil his ceremonial staff. “nervousness is not a good look on a soldier who bears the crest of the Woodland Realm.”

“Your grace…” Feren tried, but Thranduil pushed the door open before he could finish. All chatter in the room stilled, and heads bowed respectfully to their monarch. But Thranduil was not looking at them. His eyes were narrowed at the steps leading up to his throne in the distance… and at the smaller seat just to the left of it. Gifts and flowers had been left upon it by the festival goers. It was a tradition, he knew, to honor late members of the royal house at holiday gatherings, especially those following wartime such as this. It helped keep their spirit alive in the hearts of their subjects, and the gifts acted as a sort of offering to the deceased royal so they may aid the spirits of the recently fallen soldiers on their journey to the Halls of Mandos. The same tribute had been paid to his father long ago, during the dinner of Thranduil’s coronation. He recalled his wife herself had even placed a pearl necklace atop the former king’s throne for the safe passage of her older brother Ailwe, who perished on the fields of Mordor in Thranduil’s arms. Though he was a dear friend and loyal soldier, Thranduil did not cry. Nor did he shed a tear for his father. Thranduil never cried.

However, seeing that seat, void of the smiling elleth who had held his hand to calm him in fits of rage and sent amusing images through ósanwe to help break up the dullness of back to back council meetings made an insurmountable lump appear in his throat. He loved their bond. How, even when it seemed to outsiders like the two hardly spoke to each other in public, they’d take every opportunity to find rest in their private mental sanctuary where the troubles of the world could not get to them. Without her warm presence running over his fae, it felt cold and hollow like the hole left in the ground by a tree that had been pulled out by its roots. Continuing his slow strides up to his throne, eyes purposefully avoiding the seat to his left, the Elvenking gave the ancient prayer of goodwill and took the first sip from the first glass of wine poured that night, signaling the official start to the Elvish New Year celebration.

Only staying as long as was customary, Thranduil slipped out of the secret back exit of his throne room to be met by an apologetic Feren.

Eyes blazing, the king tried to keep his voice neutral. “I thought I ordered that throne destroyed years ago.”

“My lord, we tried, but the council insisted we keep it on hand for these occasions. It’s tradition…”

“Last I checked, it is I who gives the final say. Now get rid of it!” Came Thranduil’s retort.

“You’re not the only one who lost her, sire…”

The words escaped his lips before his mind could think better of it, and the next thing Feren knew his back was roughly pinned against the stone wall. Thranduil’s hand encircled his throat and pressed down with just enough force to let this insubordinate know that his words would not be tolerated. For a moment, Feren feared the king might actually strike him, but instead Thranduil shattered his empty wine glass on the wall right above his head. Without another word, he strode away, leaving a wide eyed Feren to stare at his retreating back.

Perhaps the biting cold should have bothered Thranduil more than it did, but his thick robes and knee-high boots proved capable of warding it off. That and the blazing anger he felt running through his veins. How dare he? How dare that lowly foot soldier tell him how to deal with his wife’s passing? He did not know her even a fraction as well as Thranduil did! If he had, he would understand how impossible it is to let such a light go. Thranduil loathed the idea of sharing her memories with his people. They were all he had left of her.

Without giving his direction much conscious thought, Thranduil looked up to find himself standing at the entrance to his realm.

“Your majesty, I did not think to see you here.” Came the voice of Cardon, one of Mirkwood’s border guards, as he leapt soundlessly from a tree and bowed low to his ruler.

Thranduil granted the young elf a polite nod and motioned him to return to his feet. “Take leave of your post for about an hour. You are dismissed.”

Cardon was no doubt curious as to why Thranduil would request such a thing, but knew enough about his king’s ill temper not to argue. Giving a shallow bow, he took his leave.

Once he was sure he was alone, Thranduil began searching for the object of his Winter escapade. It took him a while to find the statue, it having been covered up by decades of overgrown vines and now the falling snow. He hurriedly removed his sword from his belt and began cutting away the obstructions to reveal a beautiful face of marble. Tears froze on his lashes at the sight of his wife’s memorial being utterly forgotten in such a way. He gently caressed the statue’s cheek with his fingertips.

“I am so sorry, my love. I did not intend for it to be so long between visits…” He gave pause. It truly had been a long time since he had ventured this far away from his palace, and even longer since he had dared to gaze upon the statue. Thranduil had it built shortly after his queen's death. It was not a true grave, but a symbol of all she was to him and their people. Guardian of the realm and his heart.

Reaching into his pocket, Thranduil slowly, reverently, clasped the white diamonds around the statue’s neck. Standing back, he smiled.

It was a poor compensation for the moment that was stolen from him… but it was enough.

He still recalled the night, not at all unlike this one, when having the necklace created for her first graced his mind. She had dragged him away from the warmth of the palace into the cold forest, an action he found rather treasonous at the time.

“Where are we going that’s so important? We’ll miss the fireworks.” The young Prince grumbled, pulling his thick cloak tighter around his frame.

“To the stars!” The elleth walking in front of him turned her head to give a playful wink. Thranduil tried to be annoyed, but he secretly loved her ability to make life an adventure. Her smile disarmed him and he couldn’t help pulling her to him and kissing her firmly.

“How much further? I fear if we’re gone any longer your brother will think I’ve thrown you in prison.”

She giggled. “What reason would you have for doing that, my Prince?”

“Exposing me to the elements for one. And for two, making me leave my wine glass behind. It is a very expensive vintage and I doubt there’ll be any left upon my return.”

“I promise it’s worth it.” She clasped his hand, still somehow warm, and her voice was sure.

He followed her to a snow covered field that was empty save for the trees with blue blossoms on them. There was a look of wonder in her eyes as she caught tiny snowflakes in her palm, only maintaining their shape for a moment before melting away on the heat of her skin. Thranduil hummed in slight amusement, stepping forward and gently brushing the frost from her lashes with the pad of his thumb.

“You are like the changing of the seasons; vexing and untamable. But each aspect of you lovely in its own way.” He looked down at the moisture spreading on the sleeve of his cloak from the snow. “What is your fascination with the cold, dear one?”

“Mm…” She thought for a moment before meeting his eyes. “The earth hibernates under her armor of snow every Winter. The death in Autumn, when the trees give their final show of gracefully letting go of that which no longer serves them, is concealed from view to be reborn in the Spring. A new beginning. That is why we celebrate the turning of the new year.”

She turned and smiled off into the distance. “Until then, we get to live in a world covered in white light as bright as the eternal stars themselves.”

“Where are you going?” Thranduil called after her as she began climbing a nearby tree.

The elleth smiled down at him as she grabbed hold of a vine and swung over his head, reaching her hand out to him. “On our wedding day, I said I’d give you the stars if I could, and the falling snowflakes are the closest thing we’re going to get on earth. Come!”

Thranduil, amazed, took hold of the vine and they swung amid the falling stars there in the calmness of the seemingly mundane forest clearing. Laughing, Thranduil pulled them up into a tree and they caught snowflakes on their tongues.

“Look!” He pointed out the fireworks visible from the palace, their vantage point granting them an excellent view. They entwined their fingers and Thranduil pulled her under his cloak to keep her warm.

“You’ll own the very stars. I’ll see to that meleth nin.”

He was pulled from his reverie as he sensed a presence behind him. It was Tauriel. King and subject briefly locked eyes, if only long enough for some unspoken understanding to pass between them, before walking silently back to the palace side by side. Thranduil chanced one last look at the statue, the gems now glowing as they caught the moonlight. Indeed, it was beautiful… but lifeless. Her true memory was living. Living in the hearts of their subjects, in the falling snow that came every year, forever in his soul, and in the eyes of their son…

Methrandir’s words came crashing back to him, “Those gems were not all your wife left you, my friend. She left you a son. Tell me, which would she have you value more?”

After all this time, Thranduil finally knew he’d figured out the right answer.

#the hobbit #thranduil’s wife #thranduil #thranduilfic #the elvenking #the elvenqueen #Thranduil x reader #thranduil x thranduil’s wife

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