#have somehow entered into an extremely tentative and unsure Thing with a guy i met on a dating app

[loversandantiheroes]

Having one of those "what is my life" moments tonight

[leejungchans]

— new girl.

juliet’s masterlist

word count: 1.5k

set in late 2016

summary: in which juliet makes two new friends on her first day at kq as a trainee.

a/n: uM turns out this is the first predebut scenario for juliet!! as always, let me know what you think and feel free to chat with me in my inbox!! thanks for reading and ily 💕🥺 take care!!

“And here’s the final stop of our mini tour, the practice room,” the company staff tells Juliet kindly as they stop outside said room, which is still dark as no one else had arrived yet. “You’re our only female trainee, so you can train with the boys. They’re sweethearts, but you can always come to us if there’s any trouble, okay?”

“Okay, thank you,” Juliet replies meekly.

The older woman smiles in response as she unlocks the door, stepping inside the room to turn on the lights. “We’re a bit early, so you can just wait here until the others and the instructor arrives. I’ll be at the front desk if you need anything. Good luck on your first day!”

The girl quietly thanks the woman, watching her disappear down the dimly-lit hallway before hesitantly entering the practice room. Truth be told, she never expected herself to be a trainee once again, having thought that her experience at SM was enough for a lifetime. But deep down, she knew that if she didn’t give it a second try—hence why she is now here—she’d spend the rest of her life being regretful and thinking about the what if’s.

Juliet also didn’t expect herself to be so early. She was told to come in a little earlier after school so the staff could give her a quick tour of the building before training starts, but she had expected at least some of the trainees to be here already.

Then again, she’s gotten a lot more introverted ever since moving to Seoul, so perhaps it’s a good thing that she has a few moments to herself.

Still, Juliet has never felt this awkward in her life. Scared? Maybe not. Nothing will ever beat the sheer intimidation and fear she felt on her first day at SM, and though she’s only trained there for two years—much less than most of the friends she met there—she already feels like she’s gone through the wringer. Still, being in a new environment with no idea what to expect is unnerving, especially when it’s so different compared to what she is used to.

Juliet looks around the room tentatively before sitting down on the ground, her back pressing against the cold wall. She takes the time to text her aunt that she’s arrived before shoving her phone back into her bag, not wanting to ruin her first impression on anyone by being on her phone.

She doesn’t know how long she’s being tracing the pattern on the wood flooring with a finger when the door to the practice room bursts open, revealing a tall boy around her age standing in the doorway.

Before Juliet can scramble up to greet who she presumes is her fellow trainee, the boy is already beaming at her as he introduces himself. “Hi! You must be the female trainee the staff told us about! My name’s Jeong Yunho, what’s yours?”

“Baek Minyoung. Or Juliet, whichever you prefer,” she says before bowing to him. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Juliet,” Yunho tries, still smiling brightly. She wonders how someone can be so cheerful after a long day, but his joyful disposition is definitely not unwelcome. “That’s a pretty name! Did you grow up abroad?”

“Yeah, I’m from Australia, but I’ve been living in Seoul since 2014.”

Yunho nods, eyes sparkling with amazement. “That’s cool! I’ve always wanted to go there. Is this your first time being a trainee?” he asks as they sit, ensuring that there’s a reasonable distance between them as to not make her uncomfortable. It doesn’t go unnoticed by Juliet, and she smiles wider to show her gratefulness.

“No, I trained under another company for two years before coming here,” she says quietly, omitting the name of said company to avoid being asked about her time there.

As though sensing her reluctance, Yunho dances around the topic. “Then you’re already a lot more experienced than most of us, so you don’t have anything to worry about! Did they give you a tour of the building yet?”

“Yeah, but it was pretty brief, so I might forget a lot of it after today,” Juliet admits sheepishly.

Yunho giggles. “Don’t stress it, the same happened to me too! But Hongjoong-hyung—he’s another trainee here, but he won’t be here today because he has another class—helped me, so if you need someone to show you around, I’d be more than happy to!”

Juliet smiles shyly. “Thank you, that’d be really great. Speaking of the other trainees, where is everyone?”

“Oh, they’re still probably at school or on the way here! We can keep talking until our trainer arrives—he’s really nice, so you don’t have to be nervous—or we can just... sit, if you don’t really want to talk. Either is fine!”

Now it’s Juliet’s turn to laugh. “No, no, we can totally chat! I don’t know much about anyone or anything here, so that can be a place to start!”

Turns out Yunho was extremely easy to talk to, and Juliet found that the following fifteen minutes or so passed by as though they were nothing.

It was slightly awkward when the trainee arrived with just the two of them in the room, but that remedied itself when a second boy, just as tall as Yunho, burst into the room, mumbling apologies for being late as the trainer simply laughed and told him to get ready.

The atmosphere was definitely more lighthearted than what Juliet was used to at SM, perhaps due to the jarring difference in the number of trainees in the room. Not that the trainer didn’t take them seriously—in fact, quite the opposite—it was just that everyone was less... tense and had more room to joke around.

The change wasn’t unwelcome, and Juliet finally understood what Yunho meant when he told her she didn’t have to be too nervous.

She does find it slightly nerve-wracking that the second boy would occasionally look at her confusedly whenever Yunho talked to her, but she supposes that it’s inevitable whenever a new trainee joins the company. Hell, it happened plenty of times at her former company as so many trainees would come and go, and everyone would be eager to get to know the new trainees. Some because they wanted to make new friends, others because they wanted to assess and intimidate the competition.

Juliet hopes that in this case, it won’t be the latter.

When they’re given a 5-minute break, all three of them walk back to where their bags are to take a sip—or rather, huge gulps—of water.

“You did great!” Yunho tells her, his bright smile never leaving his face despite how tired they all are.

“Thank you, so did you!”

“By the way, this is my friend Mingi,” Yunho introduces, patting his friend’s back to get his attention. “Mingi, this is Juliet. It’s her first day here.”

“Hi,” Mingi rumbles in his deep voice, “I was a bit confused back there because I thought you two were already friends because you seemed so friendly, but I didn’t recall Yunho having mentioned you before. Sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable from the staring.”

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it,” Juliet tells him, smiling to reassure him because of how apologetic he sounded. “Yunho’s just really friendly. I would’ve been an awkward mess if he didn’t talk to me first.” The tips of Yunho’s ears turn pink from her praise. “Did you two meet here too?”

Mingi shakes his head. “Nope, we’ve been friends for a few years before we came here.”

She can’t help but blurt out, “Do you only have tall friends?”

The two boys freeze, taken aback, though they quickly recover after a few seconds and burst into giggles.

“No, because we have you as a friend now,” Yunho says cheekily. Juliet can’t even find it in her to be offended, not when they just called her their friend. “Don’t worry, you’re young, you still have time to grow taller! Wait, when we’re you born?”

“2001.”

Mingi grins. “See? You’re fifteen? Sixteen? You have time! Plus, you’re not even that short now!”

“Easy for you two to say! I feel like I’m gonna strain my neck someday from talking to you guys!”

Yunho and Mingi exchange looks before crouching down to her height, though they don’t last long before they whine about how the position makes their thighs burn, especially from all the dancing they did, making Juliet giggle.

“Do you wanna get food with us later?” the older boy asks as he stands back up to his full height. “There’s this stall around the corner from the building that makes really good tteokbokki! Mingi and I always go there after training. You know, we gotta reward ourselves somehow.”

The girl smiles hesitantly. “I mean... if you don’t mind me tagging along, then I’d love to join.”

“Why would we mind? We’re friends now, aren’t we?”

“We... are?”

“You sound so unsure!” Mingi whines. She doesn’t know how she saw Mingi as scary earlier, because all those feelings of intimidation she felt towards him dissipated into thin air the moment they started talking. “C’mon, say it with more confidence!”

“We are!”

“That’s the spirit!”

a/n: “yunho dances around the topic” haha get it bc he’s a dancer 🤩🤩 i’m so sorry i’ll go show myself out 🚪🚶🏻‍♀️ anyways yungi best boys and i will not accept alternate opinions ✨✨ please feel free to leave feedback and chat with me, and have a good day!! ❤️

[cinaja]

Before the Wall - part 15

An acotar fanfic on the time of the War. For the summary and the entire story, click here

Disclaimer: The world and the characters belong to sarah j maas

TW: Suicide (not explicit)

----

There was no keeping what happened during the battle secret. Not when every healer saw Miryam run off and the Illyrians are, apparently, able to sense witches and have been close to revolt ever since they found out that one of the camp`s commanders is one.

Jurian feels horrible. He is well aware that this situation is almost entirely his fault. Miryam‘s most closely guarded secret is secret no longer. And she could have died. All because he pushed her.  (Although if he is entirely honest, a part of him is also glad that it went this way. At least Miryam stopped hiding from her own power and can perhaps begin to use it properly. He doesn`t dwell on these thoughts too long, though, because they always make him feel like a prick.)

It is a good thing that the post-battle clean-up keeps Jurian extremely busy. That way, at least, he has reason to stay away from Miryam without having to admit to himself that he is too ashamed to face her. Instead, he gets into a fight with three Illyrians for hissing insults at her and sentences ten of his own soldiers to guard duty when he overhears them wondering if they want a half-Fae witch in their midst.

But - and this is the true surprise - the people hissing insults are outnumbered by far by those who seem awed by the news. He overheard more than one of them whispering of a blessing, a gift from the gods. It`s better than the others, but still somehow unsettling. 

„Jurian.“

He turns around to face Tia, who is running towards him, waving a letter.

„This just arrived from the Alliance“, she says.

„For me?“

„And Miryam.“ Tia winks at him. “But I thought I‘d deliver it to you and have you tell her.“ Jurian takes a face at her. Tia grins. „What? I didn`t watch you dance around each other for months only for you to bolt because you messed up once.“

Jurian snatches the letter out of her hand. He inspects the sear, then rips it open and scans the content. He curses softly. Now he is really going to have to talk to Miryam. He doubts it will be a pleasant conversation, though.

„I have to go“, Jurian says.

„Have fun!“, Tia calls after him.

Jurian makes a rather rude gesture over his shoulder. Miryam, fortunately, seems to be in her tent, saving him from having to search the entire camp for her. He hesitates for a moment before entering. There are voices coming from the inside.

“-will cover that order”, Miryam is saying, “With the battle, no one will even question it.”

“So we`re out of trouble?”, Mor asks, sounding relieved.

“Which”, Mor`s cousin cuts in, “is sheer dumb luck, Mor.”

“Oh, shut up!”

Jurian has to admit, he`s curious. He`d love to remain standing before the entrance, but he has already crossed one line lately. Eavesdropping on a private conversation (especially with lots of Fae who are likely to catch him) doesn`t seem like the smartest move. Besides, he has news to deliver.

Everyone turns to Jurian as he enters. Mor and her cousin exchange a look.

“We were just leaving”, Mor says.

She takes her cousin by the arm and shoves him out of the tent. Miryam smiles wryly, Jurian shakes his head.

“Do they think”, he asks, “that we don`t notice what they are doing?”

“Oh, I´m sure they just don`t care.”

Jurian grins, but sobers quickly. “About the camp talk…”, he begins, but is unsure about how to continue.

Miryam`s face tightens. “Don`t worry about it”, she says, “I always knew it would happen. Honestly, I`m surprised they aren`t calling for my head.”

Jurian clenches and unclenches his fingers. He`s already trying to come up with a way to shut down the talk, no matter what Miryam says. He knows, though, that this will be damn near impossible once the news pass beyond their camp, which is bound to happen anytime now.

“You should be angry with me”, he says.

“Maybe. But I`m not.” Jurian is about to reply, but she shakes her head. “Can we just drop it? Please?”

Jurian sighs and holds up the letter. “They set the time for the meeting.”

He didn`t think that Miryam could grow any tenser, but she does. “When?”

“Tomorrow.”

“What?” Now, Miryam is staring at him with wide eyes, like she is searching for a hint of a lie. Unfortunately, Jurian is telling the truth.

“At least by then, news of your abilities likely won`t have broken yet.” It`s a piss-poor attempt at comforting her, but he really can`t think of anything else.

“She`ll be there”, Miryam says softly.

Carefully, Jurian reaches out for her hand. “You won`t be alone”, he says, “I`ll be with you and it will be fine.”

Miryam nods, but the look in her eyes tells her that she sees straight through his empty words. Because Jurian may be going with her to the meeting, but he is no politician. During the discussions, she will be on her own.

----

Drakon is not having a pleasant day. He thought it couldn`t get much worse after the nightmare of a meeting he had this morning with Sinna and the commander of the unit the Alliance sent to replace them. They are from Prythian, with membranous bat-like wings. So far, Drakon‘s experiences with their new allies have been... difficult. In their meeting, the Illyrian leader kept sneering at Drakon and calling him boy – which was still polite compared to how he treated Sinna. Unsurprisingly enough, the meeting ended with the Illyrian`s nose broken and Drakon having to keep Sinna from killing the male.

In the two hours since the meeting ended, he was already called in to break up three fights between his soldiers and the new ones. (Sinna seems more inclined to start fights than to stop them these days, so he is stuck playing peacemaker.)

This round through the camp seems to be going better than the last one, though. It looks like the soldiers learned to stay out of each other`s way at last. Besides, Drakon and his soldiers will be leaving tomorrow so the tentative peace won`t have to last long, anyways.

Drakon reaches the waste disposal area. It seems like the now soldiers are already digging new latrines. Drakon looks into the hole in construction and is surprised to find only one soldier working inside.

“Where are the others?”, he asks, “Surely you aren`t supposed to dig the latrine all on you own?”

The soldier puts down his shovel and gives Drakon a wild grin. “Oh, I`m more than enough for one such hole.”

He seems far more pleasant than the other Illyrians Drakon met so far. Younger, too, which is somewhat refreshing. (These days, Drakon is usually surrounded by people at least a hundred years his senior.)

“Want me to help you?”, Drakon offers, “Otherwise, you`ll be busy until past midnight.”

“You volunteer to spent your afternoon digging through hard dirt?” The Illyrian laughs. “Well, I can`t save you from yourself, then.”

Drakon takes that as a yes. He grabs a shovel that is lying next to the hole and jumps down. From there, he gets a better view of the male. There are seven red stones – syphons? – glinting on his armour. From what Drakon gathered, the amount of stones is usually related to a person`s rank.

„What did you do“, he asks, „to end up in this shithole?“

The male snorts at the pun. „Was born a bastard.“ He shrugs, grinning, „And mouthed off to Lord Devlon about getting his nose broken by a female.“

Drakon frowns. „If you knew half of the females I‘ve met, you wouldn‘t be surprised.“

The Illyrian laughs. „Oh, I know my fair share of scary females, too, so I wasn‘t surprised. But for Devlon, getting pummelled by a female is a new experience for him. Almost a pity you guys are leaving - maybe someone would be able to beat some sense into that thick head of his.“

„Well, as someone who has been stuck here for months, I`m looking forward to leaving.” Drakon thinks back to the look on Lord Devlon`s face after Sinna punched him and adds, “Although watching Sinna break that guy‘s nose might have been worth staying a while longer.“

“On first name basis with your general.“ The Illyrian whistles softly and throws a shovel of dirt out of the latrine. “You‘re highborn, aren‘t you?“

Drakon nods, unwilling to say any more on it. Maybe it‘s stupid, but it is freeing to be a normal person for once, instead of the Prince of Erithia. Like he isn‘t responsible for thousands of lives. The Illyrian seems to consider his answer for a moment, then nods.

„Where were you stationed before this?“, Drakon asks, happy to steer the conversation into a different direction.

„Further south.“ He wrinkles his nose. „Fighting these Black Land bastards. Fire magic really is no fun. You?“

„I‘ve been stuck here.“ Well, except for his brief visits to the other parts of the army and Erithia. „But we‘re leaving due north tomorrow. I can‘t say I‘m sorry to be leaving this place.“

The Illyrian laughs. „Oh, I can imagine. I‘ve been here for a day and already want to leave. It‘s-“ A bucket full of dirt hits him square in the face, cutting him off. Drakon spins around to the source of the attack.

„Hey, bastard!“, a voice shouts from above. Three Illyrians are standing at the edge of the latrine. „Enjoying eating dirt?“

Drakon frowns up at them. „Leave him be.“

„What is it to you?“, one of the Illyrians asks.

He kicks a bunch of dirt into the pit, but it bounces off harmlessly on the shield Drakon set up. For a second, he is sorely tempted to let the dirt they shovelled out of the pit in the last hours bury the soldiers under them. Unfortunately, getting into a fight with your allies is not a very prince-like thing to do. (Bad enough if Sinna does it.)

So instead, he does the mature thing and says, „I generally do not permit soldiers in my camp to provoke fights. So if you aren‘t here to help, I‘d suggest you leave.“

„Your camp?“, one of the soldiers snorts. “Sure. That`s why you`re digging around in the dirt.”

Drakon really doesn`t like most Illyrians, he decides. “Well, someone needs to dig the latrine, unless you`d prefer to take a shit in the middle of the camp”, he says, “And I`d not be a very good commander if I asked my soldiers to do something I`m not ready to do myself, would I?”

The soldiers exchange looks. Drakon is pretty sure that none of their leaders ever bothered with such undignified tasks. But they seem unwilling to risk a punishment, so they leave with barely any complaint.

Drakon turns back to his companion, who is watching him with raised eyebrows.

“You`re Prince Drakon of Erithia?”, he asks.

“Would you believe me if you said I`m not?”

The Illyrian laughs. “No.” He picks his shovel back up. “Well then, Your Highness. Better get back to work.”

----

Miryam barely recognizes herself in the mirror. If she thought she was dressed up for previous meetings, it is nothing compared to this. 

The dress was a gift by the Grand Duke of Sangravah. It is all flowing silk, midnight black yet shimmering in the light. Around the hems, there are silver embroideries. With it came a necklace of diamonds glowing like stars and a diadem.

It makes Miryam look less like a girl of nineteen and more like a grown female. More than that. It makes her look like she belongs with these royals. An impression that couldn`t be more wrong.

From where he is sitting on her desk, Kiel lets out a shriek and puffs up his feathers. Miryam turns around to the bird.

“You`re wondering what I`m doing, aren`t you?”, she whispers, “Well, I don`t know either.”

Before she can change her mind and bolt as her entire body is screaming at her to, she steps out of the tent and into the camp. A bunch of passing soldiers stop short to stare at her. Jurian stops speaking in what appeared to be the middle of a conversation with Tia. Miryam blushes.

A few soldiers begin whispering amongst each other. “Witch”, Miryam hears, and “Gods-blessed”. She doesn`t know which word she loathes more. Before this can go any further, she steps towards Jurian. She doesn`t miss Tia giving him a nudge and Jurian quickly snapping back to attention.

“Let`s go”, Miryam says quietly.

Mor is tasked with winnowing them to the meeting place, although she herself is not invited to participate. She holds out her hand to Miryam.

“You look stunning”, she says, “Go show those pricks their place.”

Miryam manages a shaky smile, then Mor winnows them away. When they reappear, Mor only gives her hand a quick squeeze before she vanishes again, leaving Miryam and Jurian on their own.

The meeting is held in the Continent‘s neutral meeting space - a palace that was built by some long-ago king in the middle of a huge lake. It has been long since abandoned and after the three bordering territories spent centuries fighting over the island, it has been declared neutral ground.

The guards waiting at the gate belong to every territory, but it has been chosen that Alliance members are searched by Loyalist guards and vice versa. Miryam hands her dagger to a guard and then tries to keep a neutral look on her face as the guard begins searching her, hands lingering a bit too long for comfort. Next to her, Jurian looks like he considers punching the guard searching him. (Miryam wonders if it was perhaps a mistake to bring him along.)

But then, they are through the control. A far more friendly-looking guard points them to a glittering crystal bowl standing just before the entrance. Miryam takes a knife lying next to is and presses it agains ther palm lightly. A drop of blood wells up and falls into the bowl.

„I swear that while I am on these grounds, to do no harm to anyone here, not by action or intention. I swear it on my life and on my blood.“

The blood in the bowl turns to blinding light. Rays of it shoot up into the air and merge with the wards that encircle the palace. They are more complicated than any Miryam has ever seen. Far too complicated for her to ever understand. But when Miryam steps forward, the wards move aside to allow her through. A step behind her, Jurian whistles softly as they step into the foyer.

„Well, this is certainly impressive“, he mutters, looking up at the high ceiling and the ornate admonishments. Miryam nods, although she can‘t say she is overly impressed. Unlike Jurian, she has seen her fair share of Fae architecture and while she can usually still appreciate its beauty, today, the thrill is lost on her.

She barely spares her surroundings more than a glance and instead focuses on the assembled Fae. Her eyes scan the room with practiced ease, but the Black Land‘s delegation is not there yet. (A brief reprieve, Miryam knows. Still, she can‘t help feeling relieved.) There are other familiar faces, though.

Miryam knows most leaders of the Continent‘s bogger territories at least by sight. She recognises the Xian empress, dark-haired and light-skinned. She is deep in conversation with the Raskan king. Further off, she spots the current leader of Montesere‘s High Council, who is glowering at Jurian.

He isn‘t the only royal to spot their arrival. Quite a few turn and stare, some snarling, others seeming more curious than angry. Miryam lifts her chin and loops her arm through Jurian‘s. At the end of the room, she spots some of the other Alliance delegates and makes to lead Jurian towards them.

But before they are even halfway across the room, two females step into their pass. Jurian stiffens immediately. It takes Miryam a few seconds longer than him to recognize them. It‘s the red hair that makes the memory stir at the end - something she remarked already during the battle  two days ago.

„Look at that“, one of the females drawls. She is the less beautiful one of the two, but somehow more terrifying. Not that it fazes Miryam much - even General Amarantha of Hybern could never even come close to Ravenia. „Two dirty little humans“, the General continues, „thinking they can hold up with their betters.“

Her mouth curles into a smile. Miryam‘s every instinct shouts at her to run at this smile. Or at the very least to lower her head, bow quickly. Make herself invisible. Instead, she squares her shoulder and smiles back.

„And here I was, thinking we were here because you had trouble holding up with us.“

Jurian rasps a laugh. „It certainly looked like it during our battle two days ago.“

Now, that is a blatant lie. They would have gotten their asses kicked if the Hybern soldiers hadn‘t run when that witch`s spell failed. The moment of surprise really did save them. Miryam doubts it will work a second time, though.

Still, the second female. -Clythia, Amarantha‘s younger sister, more beautiful but just as cruel - now watches Jurian with interest. There is an intensity in her gaze that makes Miryam bristle.

„So you are the General who pushed our armies back?“, she asks, „An impressive feat.“ Amarantha scoffs and Clythia pats her arm without tearing her gaze away from Jurian. „You must be a fine General.“

„Now, now. It‘s hardly skill “, Amarantha says, „unless you now count having a way to repel our spells as a feat of the commander.“

Miryam has to remind herself to keep breathing normally. She knows that her secret will be out within a few days, but for the span of this meeting, she`d prefer to keep it.

Clythia steps towards Jurian in a fluid motion. His hand darts for his belt, he, too, had to surrender his weapons. Clythia whispers something to him, to low for Miryam to hear. Then, she lets go and steps back. Amarantha is frowning, she grabs her sister by the arm and whispers furiously to her as she leads her away.

Miryam turns to Jurian. „What did she say to you?“

Jurian presses his lips together, his hands are clenching and unclenching. „That we‘d meet again. She said our lives are intertwined.“

Behind them, a laugh sounds and Helion steps up between them. „That‘s seers to you - always saying things to mess up your lives.“ He claps Jurian on the back. „Don‘t let it get to you.“ He grins at Miryam. „You look absolutely stunning.“

Miryam forces a smile, but still can‘t shake what Clythia told Jurian. She may not know much about seers, but even she knows that only a fool takes their words lightly. She wishes she could talk to Jurian in private, but then, the rest of their delegation is standing around them now and Miryam is busy greeting all of them, discussing strategies and playing confident leader. (What was she thinking, agreeing to lead this delegation?)

Finally, the clock chimes twelve and everyone files into a huge meeting room. Miryam, as leader of the Alliance delegation, takes the seat at the head of the table. The chair opposite her remains empty. Ravenia still isn‘t there. Miryam isn‘t surprised - she accompanied the female to enough meetings to know that she loves to flaunt her power by turning up late. By making everyone wait for her.

A few of the Loyalists look annoyed at having to wait, too, but when Miryam suggests to start the meeting early, none of them agree. They are all too scared of Ravenia to risk angering her by starting without her. So they sit in silence as the minutes tick by. Miryam feels her nerves beginning to fray. Next to her, Jurian is tapping his fingers on the table.

After half an hour, the door opens and Ravenia enters. The queen of the Black Land looks radiant, dressed in a white cloth so light she seems to glow, gold jewellery glinting in the light. Her gaze sweeps over the room with the disinterest of a female who knows that she is on top of the world and everyone is so far beneath her that she can barely see them. She is flanked by two advisors. And, behind her, three human slaves follow. Children, like all of her personal slaves. Miryam tenses. Next to her, Jurian hisses softly.

Ravenia takes her place and her eyes finally find Miryam. Her eyebrows lift ever so slightly, the only sign of her surprise.

„That belongs to me“, she says and jerks her chin towards Miryam.

Murmuring rises aroung the table. Miryam wants to reply something, but words escape her. All she sees is Ravenia at the other side of the table, her slaves standing behind her. She can‘t push the memories back. It`s like it is her standing next to Ravenia instead of these slaves. All that pain and fear and suffering. What was she thinking, coming here like she stood a chance against the female before her?

„She belongs to no one but herself“, Jurian says.

Miryam wants to shoot him a grateful look, but she can‘t tear her eyes away from Ravenia. She feels like if she does, she won‘t be able to hold it together anymore. She will just fall apart into a million broken pieces.

Ravenia smiles at her like she knows exactly what Miryam is going through. „That‘s not true, now, is it, Miryam? You may fool them all into thinking you their equal, but in the end, You‘ll always belong to me.“

Miryam just holds her stare. She prays that people will interpret it as defiance and not understand that she couldn’t speak if she wanted to.

The Xian empress saves her from thinking of something to say. „Could we get on with it, then?”, she asks, “No one cares about your runaway slaves and we are already late.“

There is an edge to her voice. The Loyalists may be allies, but that doesn‘t mean that they wouldn‘t throw each other to the wolves at a moment‘s notice if it benefited them. That‘s an advantage, but Miryam still can‘t find the words to take it.

The meeting is a nightmare. Miryam does her best to stir the conversation, but her words feel stiff and unwieldy. She is way out of her depth among these royals, all of whom don‘t seem inclined at all to go easy on her. On a good day, she might still have been able to stand her ground. But not today, not here. Because standing before these people, she isn‘t the emissary of the entire Alliance anymore - she‘s just a slave girl, alone in a room full of Fae.

The conversation spirals out of control far too quickly. Her allies have begun shooting Miryam questioning looks, but she can‘t do anything against it. They are losing, and losing badly. By now, some of the Alliance members look like they are inclined to agree with what the Loyalists are saying – promises of peace, of new trading deals and prosperity for all. If only the war ended. Utter rubbish, but some of the Fae seem to believe it.

„It isn‘t that we are fighting for slavery“, Ravenia says, „We are fighting for our freedom. Our freedom to choose how to run our countries. None of us wish to force you to start owning slaves, but we want to keep our property and our way of living.“

There are murmurs of agreement. To Miryam‘s horror, some come from Alliance members.

„What you call freedom“, she says, fighting to keep her voice even, „includes the enslavement of thousands of people. Your way of living destroys thousands of lives and what you call property are living, feeling beings.“

But it isn‘t enough. The words lack the punch they would need to draw the audience back on her side. Ravenia smiles and Miryam shrinks back in her seat. Jurian puts a hand on her arm and she only barely manages not to flinch.

That is when one of Ravenia‘s slaves moves. She lifts her head and takes a step forward.

„We are not property“, she says, staring at Ravenia, “You can beat us and chain us up and kill us, but you will never truly own us.”

Then, faster than any of them can react, she draws a knife from under her thin clothes. At first, Miryam thinks that she is going to attack Ravenia. But the girl just looks at Miryam. For a moment, their gazes lock. Then, she turns the knife towards her own chest and plunges it down.

„No!“

Miryam jumps to her feet, but the girl is already collapsing. Without thinking, Miryam rushes around the table and falls to her knees next to the girl. She knows that she is too late, but she still presses her hands on the bleeding wound on the girl‘s chest.

She is only a few years younger than Miryam, with the same curly dark hair and brown skin. Had things gone a bit differently, this could have been her.

„Please“, the girl whispers, her voice barely more than a breath. Miryam doesn`t know what she is begging for and the girl never gets a chance to say it. She doesn`t even get another word out before she dies.

Still, Miryam remains kneeling on the ground. There is blood on her hands, blood on her dress, but she can‘t tear her eyes away from the girl.  

„Could we get on with it, then?“, Ravenia asks.

Like there isn‘t a dead child lying on the floor. Like this girl‘s life was nothing. And suddenly, Miryam isn‘t scared anymore. She is angry.

„You will never win“, she whispers.

„What?“

„I said“, Miryam says and lifts her head, „you will never win.“

Slowly, she stands up and turns around to face Ravenia. For the first time, she meets the queen‘s gaze without fear.

„Because we will never stop. Even if you win this war, even if you kill us all, you won‘t win. Because you create your own downfall.“ Miryam pints a bloody hand towards the dead girl. „You take everything from people until they have nothing left to lose. And as long as there is a single slave left, there will never be peace.“

„You seem to think“, Ravenia says, „that we would hesitate to kill every human in our territories should it become necessary.“

„You can‘t.“ Miryam shakes her head. „Humans are the ones who build your palaces and houses. The ones who grow your food and serve it. For all your power, you are nothing without us. And in the end, that‘s what you will be in the end: Nothing.“

The entire room is silent now.

Miryam says, „You are all doomed. Every territory that owns slaves is walking towards its downfall. Maybe you will win this war, maybe you will survive. But you are still doomed. Even if it takes centuries, in the end, you will lose.“

She turns back to Ravenia and takes a step towards her until she is standing directly in front of her.

„But you“, she says, „you will not survive this war. They say you create your own doom and it will be my pleasure to be yours. I will destroy you. When this is all over, there will never be slaves again in the Black Land.“ She dares a glance towards her allies on the other side of the table before she turns back to Ravenia. „And if no one will stand with me, I will do it alone. If it is necessary, I will march into your capital on my own and personally free every single man, woman and child you deem property. I will tear down the palaces you paid for with my people‘s blood with my bare hands and when you stand in the ruins and your land is burning around you, you will remember this moment and the fact that you have no one but yourself to blame.“

For a moment, something like worry flickers in Ravenia‘s dark eyes. But then, she tips her head back and laughs. A few of her allies join in.

„I‘m a queen“, Ravenia says, „and you are nothing. Just a human worm. And you think you can destroy me?“ She laughs again. „Go ahead, then. I‘d like to see you try.“

Miryam stares her down. And for the first time, she releases the hold she has on her magic. She doesn‘t let it do anything, just flow through the air. A few people gasp, but Miryam sees nothing but Ravenia.

In a voice she barely recognizes, she says, „I‘d like to see you stop me.“

This time, no one laughs. They just stare. Miryam holds the queen‘s gaze a moment longer. Then, she turns away.

„Unless you free your slaves, there will never be peace“, she says, „As far as I‘m concerned, there is nothing else to say.“ Miryam pulls open the door. “This meeting is over.”

For a heartbeat, she thinks that the others won‘t follow. But then, Jurian rises. The rest of the Alliance members get to their feet as well. As one, they leave the meeting.

----

Tags: @sjm-things