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neon-city-dreams · 2 years ago

Text

Moonlit Vigil

Warnings: Blood, scars, trauma and a sickening amount of fluff to compensate.

Genre: Fantasy AU

Synopsis: Immortal reader struggles with coming to terms with having feelings for someone whose life is so much shorter and finite compared to their own.

Cast: Immortal!reader, Warrior!Siyeon

Words: 3156 (24 minutes reading time)

"You know this isn't what I had in mind when you asked for my help!" Siyeon says, her blade slicing through another one of our adversaries.

"That sounds like you've lost count~" I tease as I cleave through another member of the undead. The undying hordes, while seemingly endless at the start, were beginning to thin out.

"I have not!" She yells back before ripping the arm off a particularly giant zombie. She then began using the arm as an improvised weapon in tandem with her jingum. Even though the objective was to hold the line, it appears she's taking our little competition seriously.

I swing wide with my greatsword carving through another three. Unfortunately, I wasn't a refined or graceful warrior like her. Instead, I used brute force to power through, which suited me perfectly.

"Oh yeah? How many do you have, then?" I ask, wiping the sweat from my brow and a cocky grin on my lips. However, my overconfidence gets the better of me as one latches onto me from behind. I quickly throw the creature over my shoulder before burying my blade down its throat. That additional kill would raise my score to forty-eight.

I look towards Siyeon, already expecting a witty response. But one never came. Rather everything began to fall silent, the groans of the undead and the howling winds. I could hear none of it as I grew utterly enraptured by her.

She stood there motionless, her eyes closed to the world. Her attention completely focused on her breathing. The autumn leaves began to fall as the undead faded into the background. Her long black hair blew gently in the wind against her purple robes. She was a painting, a masterpiece that belonged to a gallery—something to be admired from afar.

Her eyes flutter open, and the wind begins to pick up. The stage was set. She exhales soft white fog leaves her lungs. Her dark brown eyes sharpen with a steel resolve.

Her movements were sharp and elegant, much like her blade drawing crimson blood from its victims like ribbons. Her blade moves with precision and poise, cutting in flourishes and arcs like a brush on an empty canvas. If combat was an art, then she was a dancer, and I was captivated with every moment.

One by one, they fell like beats to a drum. Then, step by step, Siyeon's dance draws to a close. The hordes were gone. The crisis averted. We had done more than we had promised the villagers. But my heart was still left wanting more. Even if her performances had been solely for my eyes only, I knew like a piece of art, she was someone I could only admire from afar.

"See something you like?" She teases, bringing me back to reality. A smug smile lined her lips. I try to stammer out a response, but nothing comes.

"Wolf got your tongue?" She teases further before dragging Haemosu, her blade between her forearm and bicep, cleaning the weapon of blood and gore. However, dirting her robes in the process. "Or did you lose count?"

"Thirty-eight," I say abruptly. It wasn't the correct count, but it was the number I was sticking with. I couldn't let her have complete control over the conversation. But judging by the look on her face, she didn't hear a single thing I said.

"Is there something on my face?" I ask, pulling her back to reality.

"Sorry," She says, the glossed-over look in her eye fading before a chuckle escapes her lips. She then offers me a piece of cloth from inside her robe. I stare at it blankly, not sure what to do.

"I'll get it for you," she says, wiping my face. I couldn't help but blush as her fingers brushed against my cheek.

"There we go. I couldn't have someone's blood ruining that pretty face of yours," Siyeon continues, her breath brushing against my lips. It was only now that I realized how close we had gotten. My heart begged for me to kiss her.

But I couldn't.

However, if there was anything that could kill me, it was that smile of hers.

"For someone that claims they can't die. You sure as hell fight like you're trying to die," I say, with nothing but a false smile on my face. My heart ached and wept with every cut and every wound my fingers traced.

Each was a story of valor and bravery. Moments our knight-commander would rather sacrifice their body to protect us. But instead, their body served as a reminder, a monument to their virtue and their kindness. As a warrior under their command, I was thankful. As a friend, however, I was racked with guilt. I would have been more cautious. I would of-.

"I'm obviously not trying hard enough," They say, breaking me from my reverie. I can't help but laugh despite the pain in my chest. Then, of course, they would say something witty. Like this wasn't a big deal.

I remember them telling me about how all this worked. It was all beyond my comprehension, so of course, I didn't believe them. Why would I?

"Obviously," I say, a pained smile on my lips. I'm glad they couldn't see the look on my face. They couldn't see the look of pain and guilt on my face at the results of my mistakes. The results, they were more than willing to accept the consequences of. I feel at their newest wound. A fresh pink net only slightly larger than the grasp of my fingers right where their heart would be.

"Does it hurt?" I can hear my voice tremble as my lips quiver. It was taking everything I had not to sob uncontrollably. Their soft and gentle eyes look at me over their shoulder. I had never seen anything but kindness in their eyes except for-.

"Only in the moment," They say, a reassuring smile on their lips. But the more I look in their eyes, the more I remember the look of pain and anguish. I close my eyes and remember every detail perfectly.

We were searching the battlefield for survivors. The why and how weren't important to me, not now. But some raiders had set an ambush. Trying to make easy money from any would-be war profiteers. When I had finally noticed, it was too late.

"MOVE!" They yelled, but I froze. After that, all I could do was remember that night in the village. The screams of my friends and family as they were slaughtered like cattle.

I was finally brought out of that waking nightmare when my back hit the dirt. The Knight Commander smiled at me as the arrows pelted their armor. But they continued to smile like it was just rain. There was no pain or anger in their eyes.

"I've got you," They said, and for a moment, I smiled. But that was all ripped away from me in a heartbeat. My ears had fallen deaf as a ballista bolt tore through their chest. Pieces of steel remnants of their chest plate cut at my face. Blood began to drip from their tender lips and the freshly made hole in their chest. I wanted to scream, to cry. Another person I cared about, gone.

But just when I thought the life from their eyes had faded, their will continued on. Their hands grasped at the bolt in defiance. But there wasn't life or kindness in their eyes, only suffering and pain. They pushed and pulled at the bolt, never once giving in—each movement a mark of defiance against death, a taunt, a rallying cry to never give in. Bit by bit, they press forward and remove themselves from the bolt.

They take a breath, a hollow one with no substance, and then, for a moment, there's a reprieve before their pain continues. They bite into their gauntlet before pressing their other hand against the gaping hole in their chest. A soft white light glowed from their hand. It brought a form of comfort until I saw that look in their eyes continue to persist. Tears of struggle and pain paint their way down their face. For a moment, I tried to convince myself this was all a nightmare. That my careless mistake hadn't inflicted an imaginable pain on someone, I cared about. Especially not them.

Their touch brings me back, their fingers interlaced with mine resting on their shoulder. That's when I noticed the tears that streamed down my face. When had I started crying?

"It's okay, I'm okay, we're okay," They say, their words linger in the air for a moment. I almost let myself be comforted by their words. But how fragile had my heart gotten? All those brief and fleeting moments of comfort took their toll. What happens next time? Would there be a next time?

"Hey," They say, their words soft like cotton. "Listen to me. It's not your fault. I know it doesn't feel that way. But it was my choice, and I'll stay with you however long it takes for you to know that"

Now, even after everything. They still thought about me. They always put others above themself. That soft and tender gaze of theirs sieged my heart like a battering ram. I finally let go as they turn to catch me. I fall into their warm embrace.

The two of us stay like this for minutes or hours, I don't know. It didn't matter to them and didn't matter to me. They just let me cry and let it out. There was no pretending, just open and honest vulnerability. Something I hadn't had since I was nothing more than a farmer's daughter.

Eventually, the well of guilt and sadness dried up, yet I was still in their arms. Their warmth reminded me of the sun after weeks of endless rain, and their smile was the rainbow that followed shortly after. But, of course, despite my confidence, I couldn't help but feel embarrassed after crying in front of them like that. Like morning dew drops, their smile fades away, and an amused smirk rises like the sun to replace it.

"At least you can say you're the first woman to break my heart," They say. I try to stop myself from laughing, but I'm too slow. So instead, I slap them on the shoulder as punishment for easing the mood, which only makes them smile more.

"There we go! I'm glad you're feeling better," They say, no doubt still proud of their stupid joke.

"You're an idiot," I say.

My Idiot.

"I'm the idiot? Who's the one who forgot the picnic basket?" I reply. I wasn't annoyed, more amused that I hadn't noticed she had forgotten the basket until we got to the top of our hike. I take a seat under the shade to take in the view. Vast open fields of flowers dotted the land mixed with streaks of orange and red painted on top of seas of grass. Past the emerald crown of flowers stood a jewel of glass. A lake, pristine and flawless, it stood in serene and tranquil beauty as it took in the gaze of the sun. Returning its attention with the same love and grace shown in kind.

It was a beauty like none other. Although, I could think of someone whose allure had it hopelessly outmatched. I pat a spot beside me place for her to sit.

"Honestly, that sounds like a massive oversight on your part," She says, laying her head on my lap with a cheeky grin. I shouldn't be so surprised by her proximity. We had grown close in the weeks after I took that blow through the heart. In a way, it helped bring down the walls that guarded my heart. It allowed me to be more honest with how I felt about her, and it was all because of that smile.

It was worth protecting. But she would remain something to admire. I couldn't let myself become entangled, intertwining my life with her brief but beautiful life. Such is the curse of immortality. She was a beautiful firework that came roaring into my life. She was filled with color and life that made me smile and laugh even in the worst of times. Siyeon is all that and more. If only fate would let me bask in her beautiful light so I could hold a piece of her radiance in my heart to cherish with all I could muster. But it was not to be. Instead, I would have to remain content with my place in that beautiful spark. A memory I would cherish for all days.

I looked down at the light in my life. Gone were the purple and blue robes of her everyday attire; instead lay a sundress reminiscent of the clear blue sky. Her long black hair was no longer bound in a ponytail. Rather it ran freely in the gentle summer breeze. She gazes back at me with those bewitching brown eyes that I could lose myself in.

"No witty remark?" She says, her fingers interlacing with mine. I remember the first time she held my hand, I had almost forgotten how to breathe. But now, my hands felt empty, like something was missing without hers. Like a warrior without a weapon, a musician without an instrument, and an artist without a muse.

"No," I say, a smile growing on my face. It was moments like these that I wish could last forever. But again, I was going to have to settle with the memory. My own piece of paradise hidden within my mind's eye. "After all, you're right. I clearly excepted too much. I can only hope that someone at the estate eats it"

She chuckles to herself. All that mess we had made the night before in preparation for today was all for naught. But the memories of flour fights and burnt bread would be eternal.

She reaches into one of her pockets and pulls out a single mandarin. "We can go halves," she says, showing me the fruit before focusing her attention on peeling it.

While part of me did want to share, I could manage. I'm sure Siyeon needs it more. "It's fine. You have it," I say, trying to look away from the fruit. I can hear her snicker as she perfectly peels the mandarin, focusing on removing the veins of white like ore from stone.

"You're an idiot. You need to be more selfish," She says before making sure I take half of the mandarin.

"There we go," She continues, pleased with herself. She then sits up, her gaze shifting from eye to eye before smiling to herself as she begins eating. "The world isn't going to end if you think about yourself every now and then, okay?"

I follow suit, the sweet juice filling my mouth as a warm fuzzy feeling fills my chest. There was always something different about eating food that someone else had prepared for you. But if anything, this helped me fall that much more, hopelessly, in love with her.

Maybe she was right. Perhaps it was time to be a bit more selfish, self-indulgent even. But what could I possibly want? My friends and family were safe under my watch. I did not need riches to have a fulfilling life and did not want to live in excess. No, there was only one thing I could selfishly desire. The love of another wasn't something to be taken. It had to be given. Of course, it could be asked for but never taken. But perhaps it was worth the risk. Forsaking my oath and renouncing my immortality would be an effortless bargain that no fool would squander.

"Perhaps you're right," I say. But, of course, not everything was as cut and dry as that. However, there was nothing wrong with dreaming.

"Of course I am," She says, happy that I've taken her simple yet sagely advice to heart. Her fingers then brush against my chin before it rests in her firm but gentle grasp. I can't help but stare at her lips before my attention falls back onto those soft brown eyes of hers. Her lips curl into that familiar smile that crinkles her nose and warms my heart.

"Speaking of selfish," She says. A sudden pause as she bites her lip. Hesistation? Nerves? Not something I usually saw from her. "I was thinking. When everything is said and done, when this war is over, I've decided that I don't want to live alone again."

For a moment, I think that's the entirety of what she wants to say. But the look in her eyes told me otherwise. After all, what's selfish about not wanting to live alone? Especially in a village with no heart.

She looks down for a moment, and I can feel her touch tremble with hesitation and uncertainty. But I see her steel her resolve just like she would with her blade in her hand.

"I want you to live with me," She says, that deadly edge of focus leaving her eyes as quickly as the words leave her lips. I recognize the look of immediate regret, the need, and the want to take back any words you said. But it was too late. Those seven words had already made it out into the open air.

No matter how hard I tried, I could not stop myself from smiling like an absolute fool. But I suppose that was what I was in Siyeon's presence. An idiot but her idiot.

"If that is what you desire," I say, nodding in agreement. My fingers caress Siyeon's cheek. My heart soars as she nestles into my touch. Yet, her warmth does nothing to calm my heart.

"When this war is over, we can grow old together," I say. At first, I worry she doesn't understand the finer details behind my words. But the look of surprise and happiness on her face told all I needed to know. I try to stammer out an impossible apology as she grows misty-eyed. But I never get the chance as she pulls me into a kiss. I lean into it, placing my other hand on the small of her back. My lips melt into hers as I'm overwhelmed with happiness and the sweet taste of her lips.

I carve every moment of that kiss into my soul, not wanting to forget a single thing, and when our lips finally part, I get lost in her eyes—drowning in the feeling of love.

"I love you, Siyeon," I say as she finds her place back on my lap. I know that I will never want to take those words back.

"I love you too," She says before pecking me on the chin

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