#his name is Prince daffodil and he is a large baby

[pnthra]

also happy munday!! have a long boi

[separatist-apologist]

Still A Sunbeam

Summary: As a child, Elain Archeron is pushed into a pond by the heir to the Day Courts throne, Lucien Spell-Cleaver, and vows she'll never forgive him for it. But as an adult, Elain finds that if she wants out of an arranged marriage to a Spring Court prince, she will need Day Court's help. More is at stake than a decades-old rivalry, and when their home is threatened, Elain and Lucien will have to set aside old differences and work together

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“Stop fussing.”

Impossible instructions for nine year old Elain. While her mother tried her best to tie a large, cream colored ribbon in her bouncy curls, Elain tried to inch herself further toward the window. A lilac scented breeze poured in, ruffing sheer curtains playfully, while buttery beams of sunlight illuminated her mothers bedchamber.

All of Prythian was about to descend on the Spring Court. For the first time in seven years, given the current rotation of courts and lords. Elain had been only a baby then, and too young and unimportant to be allowed to go to any of the other courts. She was minor nobility—a Wildwood on her mothers side, which meant something among the Spring courtiers. Her line was ancient and old, and the fact that she’d married an Archeron had been unusual.

Her father, after all, was little more than a merchant from Hybern, come to settle after the last war with Prythian. He’d left his home and everything he loved for Elain’s mother, and though he was mostly respected at court, he’d never be anything other than a foreign born working man.

No matter how wealthy he was, or how his ties improved the High Lord of Springs relationship with the once volatile nation.

Elain knew these things because she wanted a seat at the High Lord’s table someday. Not as a wife, which she knew was whispered about, but an equal. A political player to rival even the wiliest of Autumn Court. 

More than that, Elain wanted to study in the Day Court. She wanted to learn from the High Lord and his lady, wanted to sit in their famed libraries that reportedly held the compendium of the world's knowledge. Which meant today, with a perfect ribbon in her immaculately curled hair, and a pretty, daffodil yellow dress, that Elain had to impress the Lady of Day Court.

Amera Spell-Cleaver. Rumored to be the most beautiful female in all of Prythian, Amera had been wed to not one, but two High Lords. Beron Vanserra had claimed the Autumn born lady as his bride, and sired four sons with her before a mating bond snapped between Amera and Helion, High Lord of Day. Elain had been alive for none of the following drama, though she’d heard a war had nearly been fought on her behalf. In the end, a deal had been struck—Beron kept his sons, and Amera was allowed to leave and remarry.

She had another son Elain had never met, though she knew his name. Lucien. Elain knew the names of all the one-day High Lords. She knew the names of the daughters who would intermarry into other courts, strengthening the ties of their brothers and their allies.

As a second daughter, Elain felt less pressure to marry well. She was certain a proper match would be arranged for her eventually, but marrying an important lord—or even an heir—would fall to Nesta. Feyre was far too wild to ever marry, no matter what the youngest son of the High Lord of Spring thought.

“Are you paying attention?” her mother demanded, pulling open a wooden box of jewelry. Elain nodded her head, though of course she hadn’t been. She was so afraid she’d miss the arrival of Amera and thus her chance at making a perfect first impression. 

“It’s your job to keep Feyre in line,” her mother told her, handing Elain a pair of pretty, pear earrings. Elain slid them in carefully, lips sealed though she wanted to protest. “We can have no embarrassments. Do you understand?”

“Yes, mama,” Elain agreed, knowing full well her mother wasn’t asking so much as telling. No matter how hard anyone tried, Feyre was never going to be a great lady which irked their mother to no end. She’d all but written Feyre off as unsalvageable. Elain pretended it didn’t hurt her feelings, even when her parents made their blatant favorites known. 

“Do try and keep from being too underfoot,” her mother added, taking one last look at Elain. Whatever she saw satisfied her, which Elain took to mean she was beautiful. “I know how you love parties.”

Elain offered a beaming smile. “Yes, mama.”

And with those final, parting words, Elain was allowed to leave her mothers chamber in the High Lords sprawling country estate. Elain’s own bedroom was just down the hall, a trio of interconnecting chambers she shared with both Nesta and Feyre. Elain had grown up among the rolling, lush hills dotted with wildflowers. She’d spent days in the woods, playing hide and seek with the other children at court. In between her own lessons, Elain spent time in the garden, working the soil until she managed to make something lovely grow. The Lady of Spring didn’t mind and had encouraged Elain with her own set of gardening tools.

Elain found Nesta in the grandhall, beautiful like always with her braided crown of golden brown hair and her nose pressed into a book. Elain bounded toward her, plopping beside Nesta on the rose-carved bench.

“Are you excited?”

“No.”

Elain huffed out a sigh. Nesta glanced over, one brow arched. “You know, one day some male is going to think you like politics so much because you find him fascinating. And then what, Elain? When you have to marry some boring lord's son, all because you don’t know when to make yourself scarce?”“At least I’ll have someone to talk to,” Elain snarked back.

“Yes,” Nesta’s lips curled into a sneer so reminiscent of their mother that Elain sat up taller instinctively. “How interesting he’ll find you.”

“Oh, shut up,” Elain snapped. 

“You’re better off in the woods with Feyre,” Nesta added, her silvery blue eyes drifting toward the archway. Elain started to look before the sound of chatter down the opposite end of the hall caught her attention. Someone had arrived. Elain jumped from her chair, nearly smacking into Killian. The second born to the High Lord of Spring, he and Elain might have been friends had he been born a century earlier.

And he not been so cruel. Oh, he was kind to her, but to those he found unworthy of his time or attention, Killian was often vicious. He made her nervous, despite his easy, golden good looks. He didn’t particularly care for Nesta, who was snappish, and she’d heard him once shout at Feyre for dragging mud into the estate. 

He was nice to her, though. Catching her by the arms, he offered her a handsome smile. “Careful, princess.”

She’d long since stopped reminding him she wasn’t a princess. 

“Sorry,” she said instead, dipping into a polite bow. His smile widened, one hand reaching for one of her springy curls. He was always touching her hair for reasons Elain couldn’t make sense of. 

“No need to apologize. Where are you off to?”

Green eyes sparkled with some unknown joke. Elain wanted to pull the hair he was threading through his fingers out of his grasp. She could see her older sister from the corner of her eye watching, those silvery blue eyes burning with dislike. 

“I heard someone arrived.”

“Dawn,” he said conspiratorially. “Punctual, like always.”

He didn’t budge, forcing her to keep her attention wholly on him. Elain still wanted to meet the other delegations. 

“Of course, my lord.”

“Why don’t you let me walk you through the garden, little princess?”

An arm looped through Elain’s and all at once, Killian dropped the curl he’d been fingering. Nesta stood beside Elain, her book clutched in her free hand.

“No need, Lord Killian. I will occupy my baby sister.”

His easy smile faded. Dipping a head of shoulder length blonde hair, Elain watched him retreat. She had the sense there’d been some sort of power struggle and that Nesta, despite being eleven, had won. 

“Come on,” Nesta grumbled, tugging Elain down the corridor. “We’ll miss everyone’s arrival if Killian keeps talking.”

Elain rounded the corner just in time. Freezing in place and gripping Nesta’s hand so hard her sister yanked away with a hiss, Elain made it to the foyer just in time for the Lady of Day to step inside. 

She was beautiful. Elain had never seen anyone as lovely as Amera Spell-Cleaver. Draped in a gown of gold and crowned in a bright, sunburst tiara, she looked warm. Russet eyes sparkled while her auburn hair cascaded about her slim shoulders in a glossy waterfall. She was greeted by the pretty Lady of Spring while her husband, Helion Spell-Cleaver, offered the High Lord of Spring a tense smile and a tight bow. 

“My son,” Amera said sweetly. Her voice was like music, Elain decided. Even Nesta seemed taken aback by her sweetness. Amera pushed forward a boy who couldn’t have been older than Nesta. He had his fathers face, though all of his features seemed too big for his lanky frame. His golden brown skin was offset by shoulder length red hair half braided from his scap. Like his father, he wore a white pleated skirt around his skinny legs, while a bolt of fabric clasped over one of his bony shoulders.

He did not look pleased to be there. 

Elain started to take a step forward, which proved to be a mistake. The Lady of Spring noticed her. Smiling, she said, “Poor Lucien looks exhausted. Tamlin is out with his older brother, but perhaps Lady Elain could show you around?” Lucien looked over at Elain before turning to his father. “I want to stay with you,” he said, not looking at Elain a second more.

“Go,” his father urged as he placed a broad hand against his son's back. “Make a friend.”

Nesta snorted, well aware Elain had been thwarted. But Lady Amera was looking at her, and Elain was able to sink into a deep curtsey before the Day Court royals. Looking only at Amera, she said, “It’s so lovely to meet you. I’m Elain.”

Amera’s smile widened. “If my son gives you any trouble, you come find me.”

“Of course.”

The adults pushed forward while Nesta took off, determined not to be roped into entertaining a foreign prince. It left Elain to stand before him awkwardly.

“Do you want to see the garden?” she asked him. Lucien shrugged.

“Fine.”

Elain gestured for him to follow her out onto the lawn. A paved stone path wound from the front drive, leading around the side of the estate toward the sprawling garden. Elain was giddy with excitement. She’d show Lucien around, take him back indoors, and charm the mother he clearly didn’t appreciate.

“Do you like flowers?” she asked him.

“No.”

“What do you like?” she pressed, a little annoyed with how sullen he was. 

“Swimming,” Lucien finally said, shuffling his sandaled feet. Elain thought of the starlight pool before casting it from her mind. It was too far from the grounds to trek out that far, especially when she barely wanted to be in the garden.

“Well—”

“Little Lucy,” crooned a masculine voice just behind them. Lucien went still for a second, his face wan. Elain turned, frowning when Eris Vanserra strolled around the hedges, his hands jammed in his pockets. He was fifty something, far older than either of them.

“Do you want a tour of the garden?” Elain asked, thinking it would scare him off. Eris grinned, canines gleaming beneath the golden light of Spring.

“I would love a tour, little princess. I hear this was a mating gift from the High Lord to his wife.”

Eris was far better company than Lucien based on that one sentence alone.

“He did!” she said with a smile, resuming her pace along the path. 

“How lovely. Mates are so rare…so cherished—”

“Shut up,” Lucien hissed under his breath, his hands balled to fists. “Shut up about father right now.”

“What did I say?” Eris asked innocently, and too late, Elain realized she was caught in the middle of a fight between half brothers. 

“You know what you’re doing!” Lucien accused. Elain sidestepped them both, backing toward a pond at the edge of the garden. A little bench beckoned for her to sit, to wait this out until she could return indoors.

Eris, every inch a grown male, stared down his straight nose at his brother. “Why don’t you, in all your infinite wisdom, tell me what I’m doing.”

It was a warning. Elain lived with four brothers, all of whom fought like this. Telling Eris, the heir apparent to Autumn, to stop, was far too frightening. Lucien was just a boy, though. Eris’s amber eyes flashed as a warm breeze ruffled his short auburn hair. Both Lucien and Eris favored their fathers too much to look similar, though they shared that same shade of red hair. 

“Maybe we could keep walking?” Elain asked, the words coming from her in a squeak. Eris’s eyes snapped to her face.

“A wonderful idea—”

“I don’t want to be out here with him!” Lucien snapped, whirling so fast Elain knocked into him. Lucien’s hands collided with her chest, shoving her out of the way. Elain reached for something that might prevent her from falling into the pond and found only air.

Her back hit the cold water with a splash. It wasn’t deep where she’d fallen, but when Elain scrambled up onto her elbows, looking at a stunned—and maybe apologetic—Lucien, fingers curled around her ankle and yanked.

She tried to scream. Water filled her lungs and Elain screwed her eyes up tight, choking and spluttering with panic. She knew who held her—one of the water wraiths had found her and was dragging her to the bottom where Elain would be made into a meal. Twisting and thrashing did no good. The grip on her was ironclad, bruising her ankle to the point of crushing bone.

Elain felt a sob rise in her chest. She wanted her dad, or her mom, or even her sisters. Someone to save her.

Strong hands gripped Elain’s shoulders. More wraiths, she thought as she fought violently against the hold. The water had warmed, was almost too hot, though that might have been her imagination. The hand on her ankle vanished as the ones on her arms wrapped around her body. She couldn’t fight them, could only accept this miserable fate.

Her head hit the air first. Elain spluttered, blinking open her eyes. Eris Vanserra waded toward the shore, his hair plastered to his forehead.

“You’re fine,” he said when she began trembling. Elain wrapped her arms and legs around him, trying to climb higher in order to escape the water and the wraiths she was certain would return. “Calm down, you’ll drown us both.”

“I want my daddy,” Elain managed, sucking in a breath of air. On the shore, Lucien stood looking terrified.

“I—” he tried, but Elain couldn’t help the wailing sob that escaped her. 

“She’s fine,” Eris told his brother, rising from the water. Water sluiced off them both, creating large puddles as Eris walked her back to the estate. Elain couldn’t help her frantic sobs, face buried in Eris’s fine green tunic. 

“What happened?”

“No,” she whispered, hearing Killian’s voice just behind her. Eris’s grip on Elain’s body tightened ever so slightly. 

“Nothing that concerns you,” Eris sneered.

“Hand her over,” Killian ordered. Elain clung to Eris tighter. 

“I want my dad,” Elain whimpered as Eris glanced down at her.

“Is this your father?” Eris asked, well aware it wasn’t. Elain shook her head back and forth, unwilling to even look at Killian.

“Eris–”

“Mind your own business,” Eris snapped, his younger brother still trailing at his feet. 

It was humiliating—all of it. Killian didn’t leave, which meant by the time Eris found Elain’s father, another argument had broken out between the pair. Eris’s own father was furious to see his son sopping wet while Amera Vanserra had listened to Elain explain what happened with big, disappointed eyes. 

“You don’t know when to quit, do you?” Amera said to her eldest as Elain’s father held her tight. 

“I guess it runs in the fucking family,” Eris had spat, turning his back to her.

“I messed this all up,” Elain whispered. Lady Amera would never forgive her for this. 

And in turn, Elain would never forgive Lucien, either.

*fifteen years later*

“WAKE UP LUCIEN!” 

Lucien had the vaguest sense of his bedroom door banging open. Of sandals slapping against marble floors…and a blanket being ripped off his body. Beside him, a feminine voice moaned with displeasure. 

Lucien peeked open an eye. “Arina,” he said lazily, running a hand down his chest. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Get up,” she hissed, eyeing the three naked females surrounding him with distaste. “Helion sent me.”

“He knows where I am.” Lucien smiled as a set of lips kissed down the side of his neck. Arina reached for a pillow and threw it at the offending female so hard she fell off the bed in an attempt to avoid pain.

“Get out of here. Lucien has things to do.”

Lucien groaned, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Is she here, then?”

“Not yet,” Arina told him, watching the females from the night before dress quickly and file out. Lucien would need them again, likely before the day was out. He didn’t know which he enjoyed more—watching them pleasure each other, or how well they pleasured him. 

When it was just him and Arina, Lucien sat up, not bothering to hide his naked frame. It was nothing the willowy blonde hadn’t seen before, though Arina might have been the only female at court that hadn’t climbed into his bed. She was just as prolific—she merely had no interest in him. They’d grown up together, and Lucien supposed Arina was more like a sister. A sister he’d once watch suck someone off in a corridor, at any rate. 

“Your mother would like me to remind you that drowning Elain Archeron is forbidden.”

Lucien scowled. “She’s never going to get over that. It was a fucking accident.”

Arina shrugged. “Is that why you hate her so much?”

Lucien rose, kicking aside a set of underwear that did not belong to him. Lucien hated Elain Archeron for any number of reasons. She was everything wrong with Spring, for one–pretty on the outside, rotten on the inside. She was spoiled, pampered, and selfish. Lucien had been delaying her coming to Day for the last five years, certain she’d give up and marry one of the High Lord’s sons and free him of the misery that was her presence.

She wanted to study politics in his family’s libraries. Wanted to learn from Helion Spell-Cleaver himself. And though Lucien would never admit it, he hated how much his mother seemed to like her. As if she wished Elain was the daughter she’d gotten, versus the son that disappointed her. 

Lucien pulled a white and gold chiton over his head before plunking down in a chair. Arina plunged her fingers into his hair, plucking at last night's braids with her long nails. 

“I don’t hate her,” Lucien finally said. “That would require caring about her, which I don’t.”

“Good. Then you have no problem greeting her at the door.”

He had a lot of problems with that. Lucien had managed to avoid her since that day in Spring. Elain wasn’t considered important enough to join the delegations in other courts, and the one other time he’d been trapped in Spring, he’d avoided her like the plague. Lucien had never forgotten the look of anger on Eris’s face the day Elain was nearly drowned—nor had he forgotten his fathers anger and his mothers quiet disappointment.

No matter how many times he insisted he’d never meant to shove her, that they’d merely collided into each other and he’d been just as afraid she would be hurt as Eris had been, no one believed him. Elain had sniffled through that story like a doe eyed mouse and claimed he’d been so mad he’d pushed her.

I was only doing what I was told.

Yeah, well, fuck her. 

Lucien laced up his sandals, satisfied his hair was decent enough, and turned to Arina. “How long am I supposed to endure her presence?”

Arina sighed as she smoothed out her own vibrant, purple dress. “She’s one female, Lucien. You’re supposed to be High Lord someday. You’ll have to endure far worse than Elain before then.” Lucien reached for a wavy strand of her golden hair and tugged. She smacked him in the stomach, a scowl twisting her pretty features. Lucien took her hand in his and pulled her from the bedroom. Day Court was unlike any other palace in Prythian. Built atop a hill, the structure stretched skyward with yawning spires that, at high noon, seemed to touch the very sun itself. Open and vibrant light poured through massive windows while the corridors were often the site of passionate debate among scholars, politicians, and other folks who’d come up for the day. 

Helion hosted musicians and artists, as well as priestesses who had a temple in the city of Rhodes below. No one was ever truly alone in the palace, and while the noise occasionally got to him, Lucien rather liked the bustle of his home. 

There were always things to do. 

Today, though, Lucien only had one job. He knew he was late when he strolled into the throne room where his father sat, crowned High Lord of their home. His mother was at the foot of the dais, holding the face of Elain Archeron in her hands. Lucien could see the cascade of honey blonde hair trailing to her waist and the blush colored gown hugging her frame. He was grateful to see nothing else—from behind, Elain was exactly his type. 

“Lucien,” his mother breathed, smiling over Elain’s head to look at him. “You made it.”

Lucien swept into a deep bow, pausing at Elain’s shoulder. The smell of jasmine and honey slammed into him, heady and sweet like Spring itself. Lucien kept his eyes on his mother, well aware somewhere behind him, Arina was still watching.

“Lucien is our most skilled emissary,” his mother told Elain affectionately. Her praise filled him with warmth only for a moment, replaced in the next second with cold dread. Why was she telling Elain this?

Elain tilted her head to look up at him. Lucien couldn’t breathe fully as he faced her. What had happened to the chubby cheeked child he remembered? The sniveling baby with the big, watery eyes? Elain was, without a doubt, the most beautiful female he’d ever seen in his entire life. Lucien gave himself permission to stare just for a heartbeat. She still had those big, brown eyes though they were somehow more appealing in that soft, heart shaped face she had. Pouty, pink lips were curved into a strained smile, as if looking at him pained her. 

Lucien’s gaze swept toward her small, pert breasts, pressed against the top of her dress before looking back at his mother with a lazy smile. 

“Will Lord Lucien be taking me to Summer, then?” Elain asked with a soft, lilting voice. Lucien’s gaze snapped to his father, reclining in his chair with an easy, amused grace.

“Yes. I trust no one more than my son. For the year you’re with us, Lucien will be your instructor.”

Lucien’s stomach bottomed out. “Will she be accompanying me on my various trips?” That was going to cause him problems, given how Lucien liked to obtain gossip from the other courts. Pillow talk was his best weapon—outside of his cock, of course. 

“If you’re able.”

There was a flash of warning on his fathers face that kept Lucien silent. Elain glanced up at Lucien one last time before beaming at his mother. “I’m so grateful for the opportunity.”

As his mother began to walk Elain out, intending to give her a tour, Lucien made his way toward his father.

“Don’t,” Helion warned, holding up his hand to silence Lucien. “This will be good for you.”

Lucien plopped down on his mothers throne. “What is the point of this? Spring doesn’t allow female emissaries or politicians. Am I training her to be someone’s well-informed wife?”

Helion smothered a smile. “Between you and I, Killian has made his intentions toward Elain very plain—”

“Good, then let her marry him—”

“And your mother thinks Elain was meant for more. She wants more, and I think as long as she’s willing to fight for it, we shouldn’t stand in her way. What could be more terrible than being forced into a marriage you don’t want?”

Lucien groaned. Of course his parents were thinking that. Of course they’d draw parallels between spoiled Elain and Lucien’s lovely mother. “They are hardly the same.”

“Be kind,” his father urged. “Don’t push her in the pool—”

“It was an accident!” he hissed, causing his father to laugh. 

“I know it was. Your mother knows it. It’s a year of a very, very long life, and I trust you will set her up with enough foundational knowledge and your connections in the other courts that, should she decide to leave, she isn’t forced to go back to Spring.”

“And if she wants to stay?”

His father’s smile told Lucien he very much hoped she did. “Well. You can’t be emissary forever.”

Lucien scowled. “I’ll do as you ask. I won’t enjoy it, though.”

Lucien didn’t turn as he strode out of the throne room. 

And he ignored his father's booming laughter trailing behind him.

[thewriterowl]

Hey, o wise and mighty Owl! 🤲🏼 Here to beg for modern!verse Din hcs (and modern dark!din 👀 mayhaps crime lord mand’alor din???)

but of course my dead! you never have to beg! You shall get what you want with this! ♥️

TW: Dark

Din is a newly appointed crime lord of the Mandalorians. He was adopted by them when he was young and his parents were killed in a gang-war that involved a broken faction of their group. They took Din in and raised and trained him as innocents, especially families, should never be involved like that.

When Din was sixteen, he found the faction that were responsible and killed them. it was part of his initiation as an official member. Up until that point, he had a chance of just being a "civilian" member who helped provide for the family but would not be involved with the darker side of business (children are never forced to take part in it). Din did it with cold efficiency and without any mercy.

He was welcomed into that side of the family business with open arms.

He rises up in the rank quickly and by the time he is twenty-five he is named the heir of the whole syndicate. At twenty-eight he becomes the youngest leader in their history and he does it horrifyingly well.

The world gets Oberdin in this focus.

He is a feral monster, a confident bastard, and a sexy as sin man who takes all he wants without thought for anyone (outside of children or his clan) else. He takes what he wants. Everything he wants belongs to him instantly. You better hope you are not in his radar because that is not the best thing; because either he hates you (the normal and a very, very bad thing for you) or he wants you (which doesn't last long) and you will get spoiled rotten...but smothered and suffocated with attention and you better be there for his beck and call...and then he'll leave you with a broken heart and a very sore body.

Din used to be the hitman for the group and will take up hits on occasion for his own boredom. He is very good. Very, very good. He finds his son when he goes to kill some of a rival syndicate called the Empire. He took care of them, left the room a mess of gore and blood, and had a new baby for himself afterwards.

Grogu is treated like a prince. The boy is loved and adored by his father, and he loves his papa more than anything, and is healing from the trauma that he received from the Empire. He has friends with the other Mando children, the adults fawn over him, and he has a literal mountain of toys with a large bed (that he sometimes uses...other times he wants to curl up next to his papa at night to help out with his nightmares. He eats till his cheeks are stuff and is always beaming at his papa like he hung the moon in the sky.

Din acts like Grogu is the reason for the moon being hung up there.

He will use his power and wealth to spoil and love his son to rotten bits.

Now...now here comes little, sweetheart Luke.

The one who looks as if he were made of sunshine, who looked as if he walked out of mysterious forest with his sweet, elvish face, bright spring eyes, and scent of warmth and honey and bread. Who drowns himself in sugary coffee and prefers hot chocolate over beer. He looks to need to have a crown of daffodils and violets. Who one minute looks like he could walk on air and the next he's run into a pull-door because he thought it was a push.

with his dimple smiles meant for poetry and laughter that was like a chorus of bells, and his need to be soft but able to throw a punch that can break teeth...how he knows almost every part of a motorcycle but if you hold up a picture of a convertible he'll say "headless car?" and studies and works harder than anyone in this world without a complaint.

He gives one smile at Din and one head pat and treat to Grogu and Din is obsessed. It is like Luke bewitched him and he can not function until he has Luke in his life.

he stalks Luke without mercy. He ensures he can find anything and everything about Luke he can. He has guards following him for his own protection and has a list of any and everyone who has ever wronged Luke...and they are usually never seen again and if they are its in a bodybag or they are coming out of a hospital a few weeks later.

He sends all sorts of gifts to Luke; flowers, books, treats, jewelry, outfits, motorcycles, and so many other things. It's overwhelming. Its as a secret admirer at first, but only for a week, and then Din is making himself known.

Din starts to add subtle threats. How he'll be happy to take Luke off the street if he thinks Luke is trying to leave him. Or how wouldn't it be a shame if the man that asked Luke for a drink a few nights back would disappear should Luke accept the date?

Never against Luke though. Luke himself is the most safe and adored man in the whole city, at least.

Din demands Luke moves in with him or he'll buy Luke a penthouse close by. His choice. Luke eventually has to move in with him as he feels too overwhelmed with the gifts and threats on kidnapping.

Luke is kidnapped regardless, he just walks into his prison on his own.

The man is obsessed. His day begins and ends with Luke (and Grogu). He loves giving his lover everything he could ever want (regardless if Luke wants it or not).

Luke is known to be someone to never approach or touch unless you want this Mandalorian King after your neck/

[kpopisthereasonihavenolife]

kim taehyung / reader [f] 

genre: royal/fantasy au, arranged marriage au, serpent prince!taehyung, priestess!reader, very soft romance, slow burn

warning(s)!!: slow burn (there is a lot of backstory oof), insecurity, jealous taehyung (who isn’t completely aware he’s jealous), heartache (a lot i’m sorry), hurt/comfort, almost nudity or translucent wet clothes, attempt at picking a fight/no-good townsfolk, past kidnap attempts, very minor depictions of violence, very breif mention of death, taehyung cries oops, y/n loves so much it hurts, taehyung being the most devoted boy to ever devote, obvs. religious themes (i.e. prayers, worship, offerings etc.), the royal family isn’t toxic and is in fact very sweet, jungkook is featured as a monk who refuses to cut his hair

w.count: 16.6k

Series | One-shot | Two-shot | Drabble | [Rated: PG-15 ]

synopsis: When he was born, Prince Taehyung was marked as the Serpent King’s Descendant with the mark of scales on his chest to prove it. As he grew up, he was appointed a playmate who would soon be training in the royal shrine as a maiden because of her unusually large spiritual power. They were pronounced engaged when Taehyung was just shy of his teenage years by royal command and he did nothing to fight the arrangement.  Now, you’re a grown woman and head of the shrine as the Center Priestess and devotee to the shrine and royal family with a heart filled almost too full of love for your future husband-to-be. When the wedding is announced and a ball is held in an advanced celebration you wonder, does your fiancé really want to marry you? Or is he just following his father’s royal orders? You don’t know what your heart can't take more: the idea of being rejected and unloved, or never knowing the true feelings of Prince Taehyung’s heart. 

t.list bc @lysannnnaa​ & @bella-victoria002​ wanted to be notified when it was posted!

The Serpent King was an old mythical king of ages that had stories upon stories spun about him.  

He was a man given the powers of a great sea serpent and among his journey to harness his powers and grow as the future king he knew he was destined to become, he traveled far and wide until he came upon an island.  This island was completely devoid of creatures- be it human or animal- aside from a giant snake he had found lay sleeping in a cave by the sea.  The Serpent King decided to make this island his home- and began to craft and build his kingdom to which he would rule- the snake by his side. 

Years passed and soon there it was, the kingdom the Serpent King had dreamt of. However, before he could see it continue to grow and prosper, he fell ill and weak. Dying on his bed surrounded by his people and the snake that had accompanied him in his goals, he prayed that the power in which he possessed would one day be reborn inside a new future king. 

The mighty island was named by the late Serpent King as the Hissing Isle. When he passed, the kingdom took not to grieving, but to work and worship. They built a shrine alongside the castle he had crafted.  Created memorials to which townsfolk and the occasional visitor may visit and pray to. Monuments of him with a giant snake wound around his body. His people continued his kingdom and a new royal family was chosen and so the generations passed; everyone waiting until the next Serpent King would be born. 

His companion snake was never seen again, rumor spreading that it took the to seas to watch over the island because it’s master was in the sky among the heavens. 

Centuries later, the royal castle was in full bustle as the queen had gone into labor unexpectedly. Ushering her to a delivery room in the medical wing of the castle, the king not far behind as he left his work and notes in his study at the news of his wife. Servants very quickly scurried about in panic for the arrival of the new royal child. 

It was an agonizing five hours later when the new baby prince was born. However, among the servants and the spiritual monk with the king and queen, none spoke. The room was silent aside from the cries of the newborn baby- the same baby who had a mark on his chest. A mark that was small, just the size of his newborn fist and detailed so delicately as a patch of scales.  

The king shed a tear as he smiled at his wife, holding her hand to soothe and congratulate her on a well done delivery of her first child.  The baby was soon cleaned and swaddled in a bundle of the softest cloth before the queen was requesting to hold her son. As he was placed in the woman’s arms, she smiled down at him as he instantly calmed.  The king sat beside the two, his hand on his queen’s leg as they both looked at the mark on their son once more. 

The Serpent King had finally chosen a new spirit to gift power to. Reincarnated into this small, healthy baby prince hundreds upon hundreds of years into the future. Serpent Prince Kim Taehyung, that is his name. 

Two years after the young prince was born, another baby was born with special powers.  Born in a brilliant blue aura and a strong, healthy body, a shrine monk had been shocked speechless at the amount of rare spiritual energy the newborn infant possessed.  It was decided among the few hours after her birth, that this baby girl would grow to be a magnificent shrine priestess and when the time would call for it, her training to harness her abilities would begin. 

Both the serpent blooded prince and the infant priestess would soon grow into bodies that would learn many things and experience many occasions and emotions.  First, however, they would need to meet.

“Y/n, come here for a spell,” your mother called for your attention as you sat at a small open chest filled with small wooden toys and bells and ribbons you had been gifted.  It had been four years since you were born and to you, your life had just started as your memory finally started allowing you to retain information and people’s faces.  

Your mother stood at the door to your room in her dress of a distasteful shade of brown that laced around her stomach to shrink her waist and strapped over her shoulders. The dress trapped the off shoulder white blouse she wore over her torso as her hair was braided along the back of her head, pinned up and out of the way. 

You looked back over your small shoulder still dressed in your pale yellow nightgown that reached your ankles with sleeves that covered your entire hand to your fingertips when you stood.  Hair unkempt and unbrushed from sleep, as you had woken up and immediately took to your toy chest to occupy your time until you were fetched by your single parent. 

Standing, you abandoned your trinkets as you rushed to your mother’s side. Grabbing her skirt in your fists and pushing your face into the fabric of her dress, giggling at the warm embrace she gave you. Her hands pushed on your shoulders and back as she leaned to greet you a good morning.  

“Good morning, my dearest little girl,” your mother cooed as you lifted your face from her skirt and smiled up at her.  You were always a shy child, but she hoped now that you were more aware of your surroundings, you would grow out of your shyness.  She gently pushed you away just enough so she could kneel on the floor in front of you, brushing your messy hair out of your face with her fingers. “We have to get you dressed.  Today is a very big day,” she told you. 

“What does that mean, mommy?” You asked, your small voice pitched and as sweet as song bells to your mother’s ears.  How she loved the sound of your voice. 

“It means, dearest, that you’re going to meet someone who will become your friend today.” The woman watched your puffy child-fat-cheeks, extend in a pout as you frowned.  “Now,” she started, softly but sternly, “do not pout like that. It would make me very happy if you would play with another child.” 

“Well,” your small voice started as your pout lessened, “if mommy wants me to, I can try.” your mother smiled as she gently kissed your forehead. You were only four, but you were very kind and gentle, and smarter than you thought.  

“That’s my girl,” she encouraged as she backed you up into your room to ready you for the day.  Placing you in a dress the color of daffodils that reached just past your knee and the long sleeves open at the shoulders, your mother messed with your head.  

You admired your dress in the standing mirror in your room.  Ruffles of soft yellow running around your skirt and the white fabric on your chest dotted with small flowers. Hair now brushed and pinned only partially back with a flower clip, your mother was soon sliding flat, black shoes over your feet. “You look beautiful, dearest,” she cooed as she kissed your cheek. 

“Mommy’s way more pretty than me!” You cheered as she stood and you took her hand, letting her lead you out of your room.  

You had lived in the castle your entire life, but only recently did you start remembering the layout of the massive royal home. You often remembered going to the shrine more often than not, feeling so peaceful and calm inside the shrine’s walls. The fountain inside with a statue of a man and a snake always seemed warm to you. 

Your mother walked slowly at your side as you clung to her hand the entire journey from your room, down the halls, past servants and guards alike until she came to stand at a grand, red doorway. You gripped her hand tighter, nerves bubbling in your small stomach. 

She offered two easy knocks that reverberated through the halls, bouncing off the walls in echoes that seemed so loud you wanted to cover your ears. 

“Majesty, it is Lily of the Shrine Courts. I have brought my daughter as you have asked,” she announced to the closed door. You thought her crazy until a voice echoed from behind the doors offering her entrance into the room beyond the red entrance. She looked down at you before smiling. “Do not worry, I will be with you the whole time,” she assured as you nodded, unaware of who was going to be inside. 

She pushed the door open with loud, aching creaks as you followed her in. your young eyes were wide as you looked around the room you had entered with your mother.  Large, wide and open with a single red carpet with gold trim lining the floor from the door to a set of 5 steps with thrones sitting atop them. There were three, dark wooden thrones in your line of sight.

One on the far left was the biggest of the three. Glorious and plush with red cushions that looked like you could jump on and sink right into the cushion. Gold trim surrounded the cushions as golden tassels hung from the arm rests of the throne. 

The middle throne was much less extravagant and smaller in size, but still as beautiful as the one before. With A fanned, three curved humps at the top of the back and red cloth that hung from the cushion like a bed-skirt over a box spring. 

The third, was just about the same size as the middle one. Resembling both the first and second, it was like a hybridized fashion of the first two- a child of the two thrones so to speak. 

In two of those three thrones, sat two adults.  In the first, glorious throne was a man dressed in black, gold and purple with a fur lined robe over his shoulders. A golden, magnificent crown sat along his head.  Next to him was a woman, a small tiara sat atop her pinned and folded hair as her dress was a soft purple and flowed so elegantly you knew without touching it that the fabric would be soft. 

You knew without a doubt it was the king and queen of Hissing Isle. The royal family that lived in Serpent Castle. You had never truly met them face to face before, and you thought your legs were going to freeze then collapse. 

Your mother soon came to a respectful halt a fair distance in front of the steps leading up to the thrones before she lowered her chest in a deep bow.  In theory you would have copied your mother, but you simply couldn’t move due to the nerves rampaging through your body. 

The queen looked at you with a smile on her face as she soon rose from her throne and picked up the floor length gown as she revealed her jeweled heels as she stepped carefully down the steps and soon was approaching you both. You jolted as you felt your mother’s hand on the back of your head. 

The queen was soon kneeling in front of you, her graceful beauty within arms reach, but all you could do is stare in wide-eyed awe and anxiousness. 

“You have a lovely daughter, Lady Lily,” the queen's smooth, rich voice spoke to your mother even though she was looking at you.  She reached out her hand as she brushed the back of her finger across her cheek and through your freshly brushed hair as you gulped. “Hello, sweetheart,” she softly called. 

“Hello,” you croaked out as the hand of your mother’s brushed along the back of your head, soothing you. 

“Do you know why you’re here this morning, child?” You nodded your head at the queen’s question “There are many things you are destined for, small lady. First, my husband and I would like to introduce you to another child just a couple years older than you. We hope you both can become friends.” You silently nod once again, still gripping onto your mother’s dress like a lifeline. 

The queen stands back up and steps away from you as she exchanges words with your mother. You look around the throne room and back behind the curtains that drape behind the set of thrones you see a faint silhouette.  You shuddered, thinking it was one of those shadow monsters you see in the corner of your vision. 

You jolt when the shadow seems to have locked eye contact with you.  You tug on your mother’s dress and reach to grab her hand as you look up towards her. She’s soon looking down at you, her precious child with eyes that can see almost too well, before she is grabbing your hand back tightly in hers. 

“What is it, dearest?” You crush your face into the fabric of her dress as you feel her leg behind it.  “Y/n,” she cooed, trying to have you behave just a bit better in front of the royal family. 

“There’s a shadow in here,” you muttered as you felt her other hand on your head again, avoiding snagging her fingernails into your clipped hair. “Behind those big chairs, there’s a shadow,” you whine. Both your mother and the queen turn to look behind the set of glorious seats and the queen only smiles at the ‘shadow’ you had seen.  

“Oh my,” the queen breathed, “why are you hiding back there again, Taehyung,” the queen called.  You looked up from the fabric of your mother’s skirt as you peered around her to see the shadow move- making you jump.  Soon, a young boy was walking out of the shadows, dressed in a black shirt and pants with a golden vest of thick embroidered shoulders and hems on his small framed torso.  His blonde hair shining like a star. Your body relaxed- it wasn’t a shadow after all. 

“I apologize for her,” your mother addressed and you instantly felt guilty. Your mother was apologizing because you jumped to conclusions because you weren’t able to tell the shadows from people yet; these shadows only just started appearing in your vision recently and they scared you. “Her eyes can see more than what others can, so she hasn’t learned spirits from humans yet.” 

“I see the rumors about her abilities are true then,” from behind the queen, the king who had been sitting in silence had finally spoken.  “I can feel her spiritual pressure even from here, and she’s of such young age. You should be proud of your daughter, Lady Lily.” The king rose from his throne as he descended the steps and called the child boy over to his and the queen’s side. 

Soon, the king and queen stood in front of you as the young boy stood between them.  You didn’t need to be told that this was their child- the prince of whom you knew of but had also never met.  The look in his dark eyes made you shiver, like he wasn’t a happy child. But, the royal family was so kind and made you feel warm- why would his eyes look so grim then? 

The king soon placed a large hand on the prince’s small shoulder. 

“Young Y/n, as of today I would be honored if you would keep my son company.” You looked up at the king with a dropped jaw.  The prince was the new friend your mother had told you about? You looked back down at the prince- his expression unchanged as if he was unhappy about your newfound company. Maybe that is why his eyes looked that way, he didn’t want a playmate. “Is that alright?” The king asked as if your four year old little heart had the gall to say no the royalty. 

“Yes, sir,” you squeaked in shyness. “It’s alright,” you confirmed with your small, bell voice your mother always praised.  It made the queen and king smile as the queen wrapped her arm around her son's shoulders, kneeling to his level and gaining his attention. 

“Now, Taehyung,” she started softly, “Y/n is going to be your friend, so you treat her kindly, alright?” You jolted and sucked in a small breath when the prince looked back to you before returning his bland gaze to his mother. 

“Yes, mother,” he muttered. The queen brushed back Taehyung’s hair and sent him off, out of the throne room. Soon, your mother was advising you to follow after him. With a small head pat from your mother and a gulp of attempted bravery, you trotted after the six-year-old prince who didn’t seem very happy to have a new friend. 

It had been four days since you were assigned Prince Taehyung’s playmate and friend.  You often spent time in the library reading while he studied, or walking behind him as he roamed through the gardens before sitting on a bench with a book, you sitting on the opposite end of the same bench. 

Every night your mother would tuck you into bed and ask how your day with the prince was and you would always tell her the same thing. You were nothing but a duckling following around the royal prince as he never spoke to you even if you spoke to him. You feared he disliked you and you often sought your mother’s comfort as you would nearly cry at the thought of your first real friend hating you. 

Every morning you’d wake up and pick out the prettiest dress and most eye-catching hair pins and ribbons to try and attract the prince’s attention. Even when you tried wearing shoes that clack with each step, he never even spared you a glance. 

It was midday of the fifth day of being Taehyung’s new friend when you decided to try and be more aggressive with your mission you had dubbed: ‘make Prince Taehyung my friend’.  You both sat in the library as he was scribbling in a book with another book open next to him.  You had recognized the book he was studying today- a book of hymns from the past that are typically sung about or for the Serpent King’s spirit and the Sea Snake.  You were currently being taught those same hymns by the shrine maidens and monks during the time you weren’t trailing Taehyung. 

“Prince Taehyung,” you called softly, knowing he wouldn’t answer you. You swallowed your nervous breath as you pushed more words out instead of giving up instantly like the days prior. “Are you very interested in the Sea Snake and Serpent King hymns? If so, I can sing them for you,” you offered. You saw his fountain pen halt in his hand for just a moment before he resumed writing. 

You almost smiled, that was proof he was listening to you- just ignoring you. 

“You know,” you continued, stepped just ever so closer to the chair he sat in as his feet dangled, still far too short to reach the floor. “I’m being taught a lot of those from the shrine maidens.  They said I need to know them because I’m going to become a shrine maiden one day too. They told me I’m going to be a priestess and that the hymns would be very important to know when I’m all grown up.” 

He didn’t pay you any mind just as you were used to.  You wracked your young mind to think as to why he was so uninterested in you. You’ve always wanted a friend around your age, and he was only two years older than you.  He wasn’t so superior to you as a six-year-old that you had to be ignored.  Maybe he was just a snobby prince? But, that didn't seem to fit him. The aura he gave off felt sad and calm to you- like he wanted something he just wasn’t getting, but staying to himself about it.  

Then, you had a thought. 

Prince Taehyung is the Serpent King’s descendant- his reincarnation as you were told- who was blessed with the ancient king’s blood.  He would one day rule the kingdom and lead the Hissing Isle into a golden age- even more peaceful and prosperous than the Serpent Kingdom is right now. 

“Prince Taehyung,” you addressed him again. You had gotten beside him and gently grabbed the cloth of his shirt around his elbow between your fingers. “Are you sad about being born like the Serpent King?” For the first time the child prince stopped his scribbling and the air around you changed.  

It became tense and you felt like you were suffocating. Did you cross a line? Were you supposed to just keep your mouth shut and follow him like a little duckling for the rest of your childhood until he finally snapped and told you to leave him alone? You shivered. Would he snap now? Would he yell and tell you to be gone because you were prying into business that isn’t yours? 

“Am I sad about being born this way?” The first sentence ever spoken to you from the prince’s mouth and it felt sharp as it hit your heart. “Am I sad about being told who I am and who I’m supposed to be? Am I sad about being so different that people can’t even use my name? Am I sad that I’m just ‘Serpent Prince Taehyung’?” He finally turned to look at you, his dark eyes lined with frustrated tears. “Wouldn’t you be sad about that?” He softly choked.  

“Prince,” you called in a small breath, unable to recognize that the small prince had been carrying such a burden on his shoulders.  Was he really outcast like he claims? True, when you followed him around, all people did was bow their head and offer praises of the blood of the serpent king. 

“How are you okay with the shrine telling you who you’re destined to become?” He asked, turning away from the book full of hymns and swiveling to look at you standing next to him. 

“Because my mom said I’d grow up to be a great priestess one day,” you spoke in a heavily whispered answer.  “And my mom would never lie to me, so I believe her.” 

“She’s planning your life for you. Doesn’t that make you mad? Shouldn’t you have the freedom to choose what you want?” This was the most the prince had ever spoken in your presence. 

“I’m not mad,” you quickly deny. “I really like learning all the hymns and the dances the shrine is teaching me. I get to dance with bells and ribbons and sing songs that will help people when I grow up. I get scared of shadows and odd creatures I see, but the more I learn from the monks, the more I can face those scary things. I have so much fun with the shrine people, so I could never be mad about growing up like they say I will.” You let go of the prince's sleeves only to grab his hand hesitantly. 

His hand is relaxed in yours, not moving to pull away or to return the gesture.  You think you finally understand why the prince’s eyes are so sad.  He’s scared of his future and feels trapped.  You step closer to his chair, making him lean back as you got into his personal bubble that had never been popped before. 

“If you’re unhappy, the king and queen would surely listen to you!” You announced with a brow furrowed in determination.  “If you told you mom and dad, I’m sure they’d listen and accept whatever you said! My mom always tells me to tell her anything and as long as I’m honest, she’ll listen without anger. I’m sure your mom and dad think the same thing, Taehyung.” 

His eyes were wide as you quickly spoke- throwing out his title in the spur of the moment. Advising him to go talk to his parents about his woes? Addressing him so boldly in an attempt to cheer him up after all he’s been doing for as long as he could remember is brood in the idea of his set in stone future?  Could he really tell his parents that he was scared of letting them down?  He was just a child, a small little six-year-old who was scared of disappointing his parents.  

“I can’t tell them,” he whispered to himself more than you, trying to get the idea of speaking his mind out of his head.  He couldn’t be selfish, not when so many people expect so much from him. 

“Then, you can tell me and I’ll tell them for you!” You announced again. “You’re my friend, Taehyung, and if you can’t tell them, then I’ll do it for you.” The prince dropped his jaw as he looked into the total seriousness of your eyes.  You meant it; every word you’ve said you have meant.  You looked down at your hand when you felt the boy grip it back, holding your hand tightly. 

“You don’t think they’d be mad at me?” His true colors of youth finally broke through. You smiled brightly at him as you shook your head. “Then, I guess I can try… later, at dinner maybe.” you saw a small hue paint his cheeks as you giggled at the sudden cute turn his demeanor took.  “You said you knew some of these?” He asked, referring back to his book of hymns.  You nodded as he got up, let go of your hand and fetched a new chair for you, setting it beside him as he climbed back into his. “Then, could you sing one?” 

Your child-like voice of bells sang any hymn he could find you knew and he could feel the serpent blood in him react to it, reaching out to the songs it found so familiar. 

Two years passed, and Taehyung had finally started becoming a prince he could be proud of. He had apologized to you and your mother for being so rude for the first week of your friendship, but since then, you and he were inseparable.  He would often come to the shrine to see you practice your dances and listen to your songs. 

The prince was smiling more and enjoying his studies.  He often talked with his parents when he had troubles now, and he had accepted his role as the future king. He had thought he needed to be perfect in the past, and now he knew that as long as he did his best and never lied, it would all be alright.  Failure kept him humble, but it would never hold him back like it once did before. 

On your sixth birthday, your mother gifted you with your first shrine maiden robe. Of red and gold, it hung loosely around your shoulders and tied around your waist with a golden sash. A set of golden threads looped into small snakes on each lapel of your robe connected with a red thread across your chest. 

When you were dressed in it, you were eager to show Taehyung, but first wanted to learn a dance to properly show the robe off. It was your first ever maiden robe and you had been training in the shrine for as long as you could remember now.  

Your mother who was growing older every year laughed as you would occasionally stumble over the long robe’s fabric as you attempted to learn the way it moved with you. That evening, Taehyung had come to the shrine to see you, having not heard a word from you all day. 

When he arrived however, you were fast asleep on the marble floor, resting against the side of the fountain placed inside the shrine of the purest sea water. A pyramid of bells rolled out of your palm as you sat peacefully asleep in your new robe.  

“Good evening, Young Prince,” your mother greeted, making Taehyung jolt. “I’m sorry if you’ve come to see Y/n. My daughter practiced too hard it seems and fell asleep the moment she sat to rest.” Taehyung looked and watched you sleep against the fountain. 

Over the course of your training and aging, he had felt your spiritual power grow alongside the power he felt in himself. He still remembers the day you finally broke him of his shell when you told him how you would train to be the proud priestess your mother said you’d be one day.  

He smiled as he walked to you, lifting your lulled head up and placing it on his shoulder as he sat next to you on the shrine floor. He looked up at your mother who was stuck between telling the prince to not sit on the floor and to just wake you up. 

“Do you mind if I sit with her for a while?” He asked as she just smiled. 

“Stay as long as you’d like,” she told him before retreating back to the castle. She later returned with the queen by her side when dinner came around and the two just stifled laughs at the young prince’s head resting on yours, you both fast asleep.  

A year passed and Taehyung had finally grown his serpent scales and eyes that would stick with him the rest of his life.  Golden scales grew under his eyes as the dark shade of them brightened to a gold you found hypnotizing.  He had initially hid his face from the palace, unable to show his scales.  It took a whole afternoon of you sitting in his room with him to convince him that it was okay and that his new scales didn’t make him scary. 

Ever since his scales and eyes came in, he had been able to hear you sing from wherever you were.  You could be in the depths of the shrine and he could be on the opposite side of the castle and he could hear your songs and feel your messages.  He could tell when you were sad or happy or sick or in pain with each song he heard.  Able to convey your emotions through your songs, he wondered why it was he couldn’t hear any other people.  

When The monks chanted their mantras or the other maidens and priestess’ sung, he couldn’t hear them.  Only your voice was heard in his ears. 

He had often spoken to his father, the king, about it. The king was unsure as to the reason as well, but passed it off as a result of your spiritual power and your control over it. However, it wasn’t until one afternoon that Taehyung realized that he could not only hear your songs from anywhere, but he could find out where you were located if your situation grew dangerous or dire.  

You were in the palace gardens studying flowers and leaves as part of your training on what plants or herbs to dry and place as offerings to the Serpent King’s spirit. Placing herbs and flower petals inside of a clay bowl, you had heard someone approach you. Turning around, you saw two men dressed in foreign clothes you hadn’t seen before. 

“Hello,” you greeted weakly as you stood on shaking feet.  Your clay bowl in hand as they just look at each other.  “I’ve never seen you before in the castle, what are you doing here?” You had gotten braver each year and as a proud standing nine-year-old, you were determined to figure out if these were the king’s visitors or uninvited guests.  

“Little girl,” one of them spoke as it made your skin prick. “You are a priestess?” 

“Uh, yes,” you squeaked.  The moment one of them moved to reach behind into a pouch they kept on their hip, you panicked.  Throwing the bowl of herbs, you closed your fist, extended your two first fingers and chanted a small protective spell. The herbs that flew towards the intruders caught fire and gave you just enough time to turn and run into the maze of hedges to hide. 

Taking so many turns in the maze you had no idea the layout of, you were soon tucking yourself away in a corner, trying to hide in the shrubs as much as possible. With each rustle of the plants and wind you grew more and more tense.  

You suddenly remembered a certain song you were taught recently that was instructed by the king for you to learn.  It was a song of calling when in danger.  If ever there was a time to test it, now was that time. So, under your breath you whispered weakly the lines of hymns you were taught. 

Taehyung was in the study with his father when the air shifted outside.  Looking out the window, he stared out into the open gardens of trees, flowers and bushes.  Even further, he could see the open sea of his island kingdom.  He wondered why the air felt heavy so suddenly.  He felt suffocated and stuffy as he pulled at the collar of his turtleneck shirt. 

The king noticed his son’s discomfort. “What is it?” 

“It just got really stuffy in here,” the prince replied, “that’s all.” Yet as he returned to his lessons, the uneasiness in his chest didn’t stop. For minutes it lasted until your name flashed into his head like a siren as his skin pricked before he was hearing you sing again.  

Taehyung jumped from his chair, pushing it back with enough force to kick it back onto the floor, startling the king close to him.  Taehyung’s golden snake-like eyes were wide as they looked out the window beyond the palace walls. 

The king slowly stood, unable to determine his son’s sudden burst of haste. “Taehyung,” he tried, but the prince’s attention wasn’t drawn. 

“Y/n,” he whispered. He walked around the fallen chair and to the window, placing his palms on the glass panes as he looked down into the gardens.  Flashes of the shrub maze playing in his subconscious as he listened to your shaky, fearful song play in his mind. He saw the faces of two strangers, a bowl of clay, fire and then your back retreating into the maze before he started to panic.  “Father,” he called in haste as he turned to the king behind him. “There are intruders in the garden and they’re after Y/n.” 

The king was quick to act.  Immediately dispatching guards to the gardens to catch the uninvited guests before they caught you.  Taehyung couldn’t settle down, even with his father trying to convince him it would be okay and that help was coming to you.  It didn’t help calm his blood that screamed to find you first.  

His gaze stuck outside, your voice still echoing in his head, your song replaying over and over again as your fear pounded in the center of his chest.  He didn’t even register himself ripping his arms out of his father’s grasp as he ran out of the castle and into the gardens to find you himself, knowing exactly where you were. 

It was two hours later when the culprits of your attempted abduction were caught and imprisoned, followed by a party of castle guards finally locating your hiding spot.  Only, they were shocked to see that Taehyung had been crouched in front of you, holding your head on his chest as you cried before eventually falling asleep. 

It was hard to explain to his parents and your mother how he could hear your songs, and feel your emotions.  It was even harder to explain how he was able to know exactly where you were and know what had happened as if he had been there himself.  It was that very evening that the king had made a decision that would affect you both in the coming years. 

“Y/n,” Taehyung had called as you were knelt in the shrine, hands clasped together before you lowered your arms and looked over your shoulder to your prince.  You were ten-years-old now while Taehyung was nearly in his teenage years.  You both were nearly the same height as you stood to come to his call.  

You nearly felt your cheeks blush in the presence of your beloved prince.  Ever since you were nine and nearly kidnapped from the castle gardens, Taehyung had become increasingly more protective over you.  This in turn created a delusional crush you held for the royal heir.  You had to be careful of your songs so that he wouldn’t catch on to your feelings each morning and evening when you sang songs of greeting and farewell to the sun and sea. 

“Yes?” You waited as you came to stand in front of him. “Do you need something from me Taehyung? I thought you had archery this morning?” You tilted your head in curiosity as he quickly took your hand in his, something he started a year ago so that he could always feel you behind him. “Taehyung?” 

“Father and mother have called us to the audience chamber.” Your mouth opened in question as your mother came up behind you.  Taehyung was quick to greet her.  “Good morning, Lady Lily.” 

“A fine morning to you, young Prince.” Your mother soon placed her hand on your back, silently ushering you on. “You can finish your morning devotions after your audience with the king and queen. It is alright,” she smiled.  She seemed to know something you didn’t, like she knew what the call of presence was for.  Though, you couldn’t ask because of Taehyung quickly pulling you out of the shrine with him. 

“Your morning hymn was lovely,” he told you as he entered the castle’s second floor, taking your hands and helping you up the staircase so you wouldn’t trip on your long gown.  

“Do you think so?” You asked, wavering on how you sang this morning. “I had thought my sound wasn’t as clear as before.” 

“You improve everyday. Perhaps if you feel it needs improvement, sip water from the shrine’s fountain. That will certainly cleanse your throat and replenish any diminished power,” he advised.  Typically, one would not be allowed to access the sea water of the shrine’s fountain, however you were the exception to that rule.  

You never knew why, but the day Taehyung offered you a small sip of the fountain’s sea water to ease your aching throat, you were permitted exclusive access to the sea’s blessed water.  As, if you weren’t granted permission, that small sip of pure ocean water would have spread like poison and certainly taken your life. 

As Taehyung led you to the audience chamber, you grew nervous.  Just what could the monarchs of your Isle be calling you about? Were you not doing a good enough job as a training maiden? Were you lacking somehow? Or perhaps you were going to be told to stop hanging around Taehyung, the future king, as often because of his coming of age. The idea of being torn from Taehyung made your heart ache.  

“Do not be nervous,” he told you, squeezing your hand.  You swallowed the lump in your throat, only nodding before he knocked on the chamber door, announced himself and you, before walking inside with you in tow. 

The queen and her husband sat in the two tallest, iron chairs behind the long, table in the large room. They watched you both enter hand in hand, just as they had seen you do before.  As the heavy door shut behind your back, Taehyung led you to a chair across from his parents. Sitting you down first, he then takes his own seat beside you. His choice of opting to sit beside you instead of his parents confused you for a moment until he took your hand in his again beneath the iron table top.

“I apologize for interrupting your morning session, Y/n,” the queen softly called. Though aged from the first time you met her, she was still carrying herself with the same grace and beauty you had remembered all those years ago.

“It’s alright, Majesty. My mother is finishing up the offering with the monks and I can return to the shrine to finish my devotion before midday.” Your voice was rigid from you trying to keep your nervousness undetected.  You felt Taehyung’s hand tighten in your grip as he ran his thumb over your knuckles. You had to strain to hear the royal family’s words over the sound of your heart in your ears.

“We won’t keep you long,” the king announced.  He looked at you and then to his son before he closed his eyes.  His hands came up to rest in front of his mouth, fingers interlaced as his elbows rested on the iron table.  “Would you say you enjoy my son’s company, Y/n?” The king’s directness made you jolt. With the smallest pink tinted cheeks, you glanced at Taehyung, seeing him only looking at his father with inquisitive eyes.  

“I would. I greatly enjoy the Prince’s company.” You answered with a smile that spread unconsciously to the set of royal parents in front of you when you directed your gaze back to the pair.  

“As you know,” the queen started in place of her husband, “Taehyung is the heir to the Serpent King; however, as you may have noticed, our son has a special connection with you particularly.” You lifted your eyebrow at this.  Since when had the prince and you had a special connection?  In truth, Taehyung never told you that he could feel what you feel when you sing and can pinpoint your location as your voice carries to the sky like a beacon.  His grip in your hand falters.  

“Mother,” he warned. He didn’t want you to know in fear that you would find it invasive. What if you found out and you hated it and locked up your voice in retaliation?  He thought his heart would shrivel up and die if you stopped singing.  

“Our son is able to hear your songs from any location on the island, we believe that it’s due to not only your bond you’ve built over the years, but also your spiritual power.” You remained silent as you took in the information.  You had known Taehyung could hear you, but from such a wide scope? That shocked you.  “Taehyung and you share a special bond, that much we are certain, so my husband and I spoke with Lady Lily.”

Your back straightened as the mention of your mother. “You spoke with my mother? About what, might I ask?”

“It is our intent to have you both become engaged to marry.”

You felt your heart stop at the king’s declaration.  Engaged to marry? You and Taehyung?  Your heart began to speed up, doing somersaults in your chest as your grip on the prince’s hand slacked.  You turned to look at the preteen prince.

“Me, marry the-,” you cut yourself off, unable to speak the words.  Your young cheeks flushed hot when Taehyung turned to look at you, pulling your hand tighter against his under the table. Making up for the space you created when you pulled away.  His golden eyes burned into yours as he then turned back to his father.  

“I’m willing to go through with it,” the young prince announced, shocking you.  “That is,” he turned his sights back to you, a soft smile on his face replacing his previous look, “if Y/n agrees as well.” The queen had to hide a smile behind the back of her hand as your face wouldn’t cool down.  You looked down to the hand he held out of his parents’ sight before taking a breath.  

It wouldn’t be selfish to want this- you look back up at him with hopeful eyes- right? Smiling back after a heartbeat or two, you turned to his parents and lowered your head.

“I’m honored by the royal families decision.  If you’ll accept me, I agree to the arrangement as well.” A small talk about formalities and official announcements of the engagement later and you and Taehyung were dismissed back to your daily routine.  However, everything felt shifted now.  

As Taehyung led you back to the shrine, you stayed absolutely silent- something the prince noticed.  You were always talking to him about something, but now you were speechless and it made him nervous.  He wasn’t even holding your hand anymore, because the moment you both stood to leave the audience chamber, you had let him go. 

“I’ll properly thank your mother when I see her next,” he told you suddenly in the empty hall he walked with you down.  “Since I’m your fiance now, it’d be rude if I didn’t thank her for her permission to marry you.”

“Ah, right,” you made a small noise before acknowledging him.  He stopped in the hall and sighed, turning to you.  

“So, it is the engagement that’s making you so quiet.”  You shrunk, not wanting to be a problem.  “It’s okay. If you don’t want to agree to it, then-”

“No!” You screech, immediately covering your mouth.  You cleared your throat, looking around to see if anyone had seen your outburst and gathered your thoughts. Your heart wouldn’t stop beating and your stomach felt fuzzy from the speed of it all.  “It’s just happening so fast,” you breathed, “that’s all. Really, I don’t mind.”

“Are you positive?”

“Yes, I am.” It was an odd sensation when Taehyung pulled you into his chest to hug you.  He had held you before.  When you were lost in the maze, when you were sleepy during your lessons he attended with you out of curiosity, when you both hid from castle guards who were trying to coerce you both back inside.  This time was different though.

“Don’t worry. Nothing’s going to change,” he assured you.  As you lifted your arms to hug him back, you knew why it was so different and why any embrace from him would be different from now on.  

Because every time from this point on, forever, would be an embrace shared between betroths.  

You took a deep breath of the ocean air as the ship you were aboard grew closer to the docks of your beloved Isle.  You were returning home after a trip to the mainland to familiarize further with their culture and step closer to establishing a lasting treaty.  You weren’t exactly pleased forming relations with the world outside of your island home, but in the end it had to be done.  

On a positive note, you were returning with all sorts of new herbs and dried meat, roots and fruits that Hissing Isle didn’t have.  They would surely work well as offerings and if not, a fine snack for the castle. 

“Lady Y/n!” Someone called as you turned to look for the call.  A young man dressed in stained white and brown clothes and a bandanna around his waist had been the one calling.  “The ship will dock in just a little while.  Please prepare your things for departure. I’m sure the Prince is eagerly waiting for your return.”  The man offered you a polite, if not playful, wink before he was scampering off.  

A lot has happened since you had gotten engaged to the Serpent Prince twelve years ago.  Your twenty-second birthday had just passed as you stood on the side of the ship, your bag of belongings and mainland offers on your back. 

When you were twenty, you had surpassed your trainers and taken over the shrine as the Central Priestess.  Your abilities to harness and use your spiritual powers in both offensive and defensive strategies still awed some. In fact, you planned to use your power to enforce a barrier around the island as soon as you could. Bringing back a sacred dokkosho from the mainland, you planned to use it- combined with your powers- to protect the island from malicious intruders. 

However, years have not always been so kind to you.  Among those years, you still wish your young mother was around to see you flourish into the priestess she had known you to be.  She had fallen ill when you were eighteen and she did not last the year.  You still remember how your heart broke as Taehyung shushed and held you for days upon days, as you could do nothing but cry and mourn. You could not even sing her farewell through your tears.

As the sea breeze blew through your hair and whipped at the long, loose sleeves of your dress, you smiled as the sight of your home growing closer.  Your dress was off your shoulder, loose around your chest and tied with a brown sash around your waist as the skirt fell to your ankles.  It was a simple dress and not at all what you would typically wear when fulfilling your role as isle priestess, but it was yours.  

When the ship docked and your feet finally hit land again, you let out a breath of air.  It had only been a month, but you felt like you had been away for far too long now.  While you were gone, you had left the shrine in the hands of a monk who had come from the mainland years back.  His skills were exceptional, but his playful attitude always left you a bit nervous.  

“Lady Y/n!” The same man from before had called as you had stepped off port. You turned and quickly caught something he had tossed towards you.  Looking, it was a ripe apple. “Come travel with us again soon,” he offered as you smiled at him. 

“I’ll look forward to the next time then,” you bowed your head as you headed off. Heading through town, you were met with small smiles and children running to hold your hand and welcome you back home.  In your small kingdom, you were well known as the main priestess and many would come to you for advice.  Your position as Taehyung’s fiance added to the warmth of the island-folk.  

However, not all were as kind as most. 

A young girl hung off your arm as you humored her with your attention as a drunken man cut off your path. Your destination towards the castle temporarily halted.  Typically, you would brush past him, however the young girl at your side only shrunk away at the sight of his disheveled appearance.  

You knew this man, of course.  He often gave you a rough time, unable to swallow his bit-swollen pride and accept orders from a woman who technically wasn’t of royal blood. Spending all his time and money in taverns, you were certain if you wounded him, booze would pour out of his body instead of blood.  

“May I help you?” You sneered, tilting your chin and looking at him in a collected, calm warning.  

“It’s a shame the mainland princes’ didn’t want to keep you over there,” he slurred.  “Do us a lotta good if you stayed put on the other side of the sea.”  You remained calm as you took a breath.  You looked down to the young girl who clung to you.  This man was not only well known to you, but to the rest of the castle town.  He wasn’t exactly too well liked because of his attitude.  

When he saw the little girl staring at his stubble, unshaven face, he sneered.  “What are you looking at brat? Huh?!” The verbal attack to the youth was cut short when something was thrown at the drunkard’s head.  Stumbling back in an over-dramatic fit of drunken balance, he looked at the ground.  There lay a single, red apple.  

“Even among a basket of perfect fruit, there always has to be one bad apple it seems.”  Your arm was lifted, the only needed evidence the drunkard needed to know you had thrown the fruit at him.  “I suggest you direct your disgust elsewhere and not towards the Isle’s youth.  They will determine in the future to help or neglect you. You’d be wise to not mistreat them.” 

“Why you stuck up-” the man had stomped towards you, harshly pushing you back as he grabbed the front of your dress into his fist.  The child on your side was knocked away as she started to cry for the man to let you go as he just growled into your face.  His breath was horrid, teeth yellow and skin tinged sickly.  

“If you keep drinking, you’ll last no longer than the season,” you calmly told him even in the state you were being held in.  

“My lady!” the little girl cried, as a crowd started to gather in a murmur. You knew better than to fight back, it was against your views to harm your people- even if they act so grotesque towards you.  You would only tell yourself to grin and bear it.  

There was a sudden hush over the crowd before they could even begin to act on freeing you from the no-good drunkard, and it was without surprise as to why.  The man was grabbed by the back of his shirt collar as it was yanked back, the shirt riding up to his neck and thrusting him into cut-off, breathless panic.  

His grip on your dress released immediately as he was yanked backward until he fell over his feet onto his back on the stone roads. His eyes were squeezed shut and were only opened when the one who had pulled him back and off you squats to come closer to his face.  The man froze at the pair of golden eyes glaring down at him with brilliant matching scales under them. 

“I do believe I’ve told you before that the next time you harass my priestess, I wouldn’t let it slide,” Taehyung sneered as the little girl had rushed back to your side, hugging you around the waist as you placed your hand on her shoulders.  “Stay on the ground,” he demanded as the drunkard only nodded weakly as the prince stood back up and looked at you.  Your dress was stretched and messed up around your chest now.  

Yet, you smiled warmly to him nonetheless.  

“Welcome home, Y/n,” he greeted as he came to your side.  He smiled down to the child in front of you, petting her head. “How about I take her home from here?” He told the little girl as she ran off back to her home, leaving the crowd to disperse and the drunkard to be picked up off the road and taken back to the castle by a set of guards that were stationed in town.  “I’m sorry you had to deal with him first thing after returning.” 

“It’s nothing I couldn’t have handled,” you reassured, even if you had no intention of actually instigating a fight.  “What brought you into town? Running errands?” He smiled as he shook his head.  

“No. I felt your spiritual pressure when you landed. I simply couldn’t wait to see you after such a long time,” he told you.  Your heart squeezed in your chest as he then began to lead you back to the castle.  You asked about the shrine and how the offering and sessions were progressing.  Taehyung was curious as to what the mainland was like and you offered to show him the goodies you brought back with you once you reached the castle.  

All the while your heart pounded in your ears.  

The crush you had on your prince only kept expanding in size with each passing day since you were announced engaged.  You were sure if that had never happened, you would have grown out of it, however your love for him was deeper than the sea surrounded the island.  You were absolutely sure, however, that Taehyung would never truly love you back.  

He had always shown that you were his closest and deepest friend he had.  Loving you as his first and best friend and close companion that helped him grow.  However, you doubted he would ever be in love with you like you are with him, and the knowledge of your betrothal made such a bittersweet taste on your tongue.  

You had often attempted to talk to him about the arrangement of your marriage.  You wanted to give him the option now that he was a grown man and was able to understand what marrying you would mean.  You wanted to give him the option to choose if he wanted you to become his wife for the rest of his life or not.  And if he chose not to wed you, then you’d accept that, no matter how much it would break you.  

You never had the strength to bring it up though. Too scared of letting him go, when he truly wasn’t fully yours.  Unable to let go of the fantasy of marrying him, unable to let go of your selfishness.  

You let out a sigh as Taehyung had entered the castle with you.  He looked at you with furrowed brows and gold eyes.  

“That is the fifth sigh since town.  Are you unwell?” 

“What?” you were unaware of your unconscious sighs until he had said something.  “I’m fine. Just tired from the trip is all.  I think I just need to rest a bit before I return to my shrine duties.” 

“I’ll make sure to instruct Jungkook to keep watch over the shrine’s progression until tomorrow. Take a break until then. You’ve just returned from a long journey that I’m sure required a lot of strength.  Do not push yourself.” 

You nodded.  Jungkook was the monk in-charge of the shrine when you are absent or unable to manage it for a number of reasons.  He often watches it once a month when your body is in such pain that moving from your bed is a battle in itself.  

He was a stubborn monk, but he was well versed in his craft you had to admit.  He was different from the other monks you’ve grown up with.  For instance, he refused to cut his hair like the others who had clean heads without hair at all.  His long, brown locks curled around his ears and over his forehead, occasionally being tied back with a hair string for rituals. 

“Yes,” you agreed, “that would be nice.” 

You two had walked further into the castle when someone had rounded a further corner ahead and caught sight of you.  Speak of the devil. 

“Hey! Y/n!” Jungkook waved in his robes of black and purple, rushing towards you.  He was a friendly monk, child-like and free spirited and never addressed you properly by title.  You almost admire that about him.  He came to a stop in front of you and Taehyung as the prince suddenly drew quiet without you noticing. “Welcome back home,” he grinned down at you, standing a head taller.  

“Yes, it’s good to be back.” You smiled in greeting as you both conversed.  Taehyung watched you both talk so openly and comfortably. You often spoke without formality when you were with Jungkook. With himself though- even if you had known him since he was six- you still held a sense of formality.  He didn’t realize how much he missed your relaxed speech when you were young until he was watching you talk so comfortably with the long-haired monk. 

“I hope you won’t mind keeping charge of the shrine until tomorrow. I have to wait a bit longer for my powers to return to normal. The mainland pressure is far different than the island, so adjustment takes time.” 

“Leave it to me, it’s not so hard.” He shrugged smugly.  You rolled your eyes as Jungkook soon looked passed you to Taehyung who had been standing in silence.  He looked back down to you.  “The lovely couple off somewhere?” His chide was met with you snatching the staff he had at his side from his grasp and whacking him with it.  “Ow! What’s with the sudden aggression?” He whine sorely as he rubbed his back.  You gently handed the staff back to him as if you had done no wrong. 

“That’s your punishment for improper speech to the woman who is technically your superior,” you told him, but you both knew the real reason you whacked him.  Jungkook was the sole person you’ve confided in about your feelings for the serpent prince.  “Return to your shrine duties, I’ll be stopping by with new offerings later,” you told him as you started away.  

“Yes, yes. As you wish, My Lady,” he submitted as he watched you leave, Taehyung silently trailing behind you.  

It was silent again as Taehyung and you continued on your way to the throne room to greet the royal family and tell them of your return. They must already know you had come back since Taehyung had shown up so quickly as you landed, but it was still a requirement of the shrine’s center priestess to announce her departure and arrival.  

“You and that monk seem to get along well,” Taehyung spoke, bitterly refusing to use Jungkook's name. 

“Yes, well, he is two years younger than me.  It’s easy to speak naturally to him when he’s only just turned twenty.” 

The conversation was short lived as Taehyung didn’t speak after that and you didn’t either.  The silence was almost comfortable and before long, you were entering the throne room with Taehyung just as you had a million other times before now. 

As you grew closer, the queen sat higher in her chair. Her hair had faded to a shade of silver from age as the king’s black hair had begun to follow. “Ah, young Lady Y/n, I’m glad you’ve made it back safely. Did you enjoy your visit to the mainland?” 

“Not as much as I enjoy the feeling of being home, Majesty.” 

“Of course,” she mused.  “I’m glad you have returned. My husband and I would like to speak to you and Taehyung if you have a moment.” You looked at the man beside you as he looked at his parents with an indifferent gaze like something was weighing on his mind.  

“The wedding is next week?!” Jungkook screeched.  You had just returned to the shrine from the castle in which the royal family had decided that you and Taehyung would be married by next week's end.  “It’s so sudden,” the monk stated in a much milder tone.  

“Not really,” you told him as you removed the wrapped herbs and roots from your bag. “I’ve been engaged to him since I was young. It was bound to happen one day.” You kept replaying the conversation from earlier in your mind.  Just as it had been in the past, the moment his parents decided it, he just nodded and went along with their plans.  

The same feeling in your gut wrenched and twisted like a dying tree root. Was he just going along with his parent’s decision because he admired them so much? Was he just doing this for the sake of his people because you were the Isle’s priestess? Or, was he doing this because it was something decided so long ago and he felt like he had no way out now? 

As you set your items along the marble alter inside the shrine Jungkook watched you with soft, dewy eyes.  He knew how much your heart loved the prince and how much you kept breaking your own heart over and over again.  You never let yourself have the satisfaction of being with Taehyung all because you wouldn’t let yourself believe Taehyung would ever love you.  

“Y/n,” he gently called. “Why don’t you just talk to him? I’m sure if you told him how you felt, then-” 

“There would be no point in that,” you interrupted.  “If I told him how I felt, and he didn’t return those feelings, then the whole relationship we’ve built up our entire lives would be ruined. At least if we get married as childhood friends, I can keep a piece of my happiness when I wear a ring around my finger.” 

“But, if you just-” 

“Jungkook,” you cut him off again.  “Please, just drop it.  I’ve made up my mind, you can’t change it.”  The monk yielded as he just sighed and moved to stand beside you.  Looping his arm over your shoulders, he pulled you in for a side hug. 

“Just don’t get hurt,” he whispered. 

Three days later, a ball would be held in an advanced celebration for the prince’s wedding.  The event is grand, even invitations sent to the mainland were met with positive notes and promises to attend.  You grew more and more anxious as the ball grew closer, specifically because you were going to be in charge of the first song of the evening.  

A part of you thought it unfair.  You were in charge of singing the first song for the guests in attendance. Meaning you wouldn’t be able to participate in the first dance and even more sour tasting is that Taehyung had the option to dance with whomever he chose. It was your engagement ball too, but there was no way around it- since it was the priestess’s duty to sing after all.  

Jungkook offered to take your position and perform a hymn in your stead, but you simply told him not to worry about it. He wouldn’t be attending the ball- even if he was invited- simply because he had to watch the shrine while you would be preoccupied for the day.

Everyday prior to the ball you were cooped up in vocal training and hymn precision so as to not ruin the first dance.  The morning of the ball, you only practiced once and then saved your voice for the evening of the event.  

The castle was bustling with servants and guards running to and fro, along with the steady flow of mainland guests arriving in the town’s port.  You sat somewhere in the twists and turns of the hedge maze as you tried to steady your heart.  The wind blew softly, like a blanket of comfort before you were opening your eyes to see the prince in front of you.  

“I’ve been looking for you,” he said calmly in the wind.  

“Everything’s so busy, I guess I just wanted to escape the chaos for as long as possible,” you shrugged as he came closer to you.  You slid down the bench you sat on as he moved to sit beside you.  It was silent for a time before he spoke up again. 

“Do you remember the first time you came into this maze?” You looked at him.  “You were confronted by criminals who had sneaked into the castle grounds with the intent to kidnap you. You ran into this maze, crouched into a ball and sang. I still remember that day so vividly.”  

You looked away from him as you turned your sights to your lap.  Dressed in your common gown, your hands were folded on your legs.  

“Yes, I remember.  You came to save me that day.  I remember I was so scared, then you came running around the corner and I just started crying.” You laughed bitterly at the memory.  “Next thing I knew, I was waking up the next morning in my bed like always.” You paused, contemplating on if you should speak more or let the silence envelope you both.  “I guess you were always saving me, even all the way back then.” 

Taehyung watched you as you kept an eye on your lap, fiddling with your hands in the warm breeze of spring.  Your hair dancing in small wisps, almost hypnotizing him.  

“Mother told me you’re performing the song for the first dance this evening,” he opened in a new conversation.  “Which hymn have you chosen?” He asked.  

“You don’t already know?” You looked at him.  His gold scales reflecting off the sunlight.  “I thought you always listened to my songs,” you teased with a lopsided smile.  He returned the gesture back to you. 

“I’ve been trying not to listen to your songs the past few days, as to not ruin the surprise.” 

“Then, I guess you have no reason to know what I’ll be singing.” You both sat comfortably for a while and you even started thinking about actually unloading your heart to him.  Jungkook’s constant push to tell Taehyung how you felt nagging at your mind as you sat with him so calmly in the garden.  Now would be the perfect time, but it seemed you spent too much time thinking it over, you overran your chance. 

“Lady Y/n!” You sighed as you heard someone call for you from afar. Taehyung straightened his back, narrowing his eyes to the distant voice who had disturbed the peaceful atmosphere.  He looked to you when you suddenly stood and called back to them. 

“I’m here!” You shouted as you stood and looked down to Taehyung.  You smiled at him, but his eyes widened when he saw a small touch of sadness on your lips.  “I look forward to seeing who you’ll choose to partner with during the first dance tonight.” 

“Wait-” he reached out to you as he had begun to stand from the bench but you had already moved away from him. Disappearing behind the shrubs and out of his sight before he heard you conversing with a servant who was probably going to rush you off into preparations for the ball. He listened to your voice grow distant as he looked at the open palm of his, not able to remember the last time he held your hand. In that moment, the spring air felt colder to him in the sunlit maze.  

You’ve never dreaded putting on a formal gown more than now, knowing that you’d be wearing it to your engagement ball.  The dress itself was beautiful.  White lace surrounded the breast and around your waist to wrap around your entire torso before the lace ended at your hips to let the red skirt fall to the floor where more white lace hemmed the end of the skirt.  Your arms were covered in open fingered gloves that extended just past the elbow as the dress had to straps and rested on your chest. 

Your hair was partially pulled back, the fronts of your locks pulled back behind your head and pinned into a knot with a white ribbon as the rest lay on your shoulders. A servant had come into the room as a lace was being wrapped around your neck when another necklace was presented.  A small, red gem in the shape of a teardrop- apparently a gift from Taehyung for you to wear. You wore it along with the lace choker.  You could already feel the beginning of an ache in your feet from the heels that encased your ankle and enclosed your toes. 

You stood outside the ballroom entrance door, trying to gather your breath. You would typically enter the ballroom with your guest, but Taehyung would be appearing later on with his father and mother- fashionably late as royalty demanded. 

The moment you entered the ballroom, all eyes were on you along with a small murmur followed by an applause at the arrival of the lady of the hour. You just waved them calm before you took to mingling like a proper lady should.  Speaking and greeting the visitors who took the time to come to your island home, you couldn't get your throat to unclog. 

The anxiousness of singing, the dread of possible mistakes, the sorrow of not being able to dance with the rest of the ladies during the first dance and the ugly jealousy of whoever would be lucky enough to dance with Taehyung first. All of it stuck in your throat like a toad.

You jump when you feel a hand rest on the small of your back, getting your attention. You whirl around, ready to scold who dared to touch you so familiarly, but stopped short when you look up to Taehyung’s snake eyes.  

“Prince,” you muttered. His hand that was on your back moved to rest on your waist in your hasty turn.  He was dressed in a golden vest that matched his hair and compliments his eyes and scales. His white dress shirt beneath his vest was wrinkle-free and his trousers hung off his waist in perfection as the toes of his boots reflected the ballroom’s light. A royal blazer with embroidered shoulders and decorated lapels. His hair was brushed and parted, as soft looking as ever. You noticed a golden teardrop necklace with the chain tucked under his dress shirt’s collar as the gem rested on his chest.  

“You look beautiful, Y/n,” he compliments.  Your face is the same shade of your dress as you fiddled with your skirt.  You took a breath and looked up to him with a smile. 

“You look as handsome as always,” you told him, sincerity dripping off your tongue.  You lifted your hand to toy with the necklace that was given to you. “Thank you for this,” you said. He in turn touched his own golden gem that was nearly identical to yours. You looked around, not seeing the king or queen in the ballroom yet. “Where are your parents?” You asked him as he just chuckled. 

“I came early. I wanted to see you before the event started.” 

“Oh,” was your instant reply to the soft smile on his face.  You cleared your throat as you gathered your thoughts and changed the topic. “So, have you decided on someone to dance with while I sing?” You ask as cheerfully as you could muster.  Your resolve faltered at the look the prince gave you without speaking. Maybe he hadn’t been asked yet? 

“I won’t be participating in the first dance,” he declared with a slightly dipped brow.  “Why would I, knowing that my fiance wouldn’t be my partner?” He grabbed your hand. “I will dance and mingle through the night just as I’m expected to, but if you cannot dance in the event’s opening, then neither will I.” 

Your face grew rosy.  His words were heavy on your heart and squeezed your chest like you were drowning.  Would he ever be aware of just how much his words mean to you? Would he realize one day that everything he tells you and every praise he sings made you want to crumble under the weight of your unspoken, suffocating feelings? 

Eventually, the elder royal couple of Serpent Castle had made their appearance and your presence was requested at the back of the room in preparation. As you spoke with the instrumentalists who would replace your voice through the remainder of the night after your song, you instructed them to stay silent and keep their instruments hushed until you were finished. 

As the opening was announced, partners were grabbed, the floor was scattered with pairs and Taehyung stood behind you, his hands tucked informally into the pockets of his trousers as he watched your back. Then, you sang.  

The hymn was something Taehyung hadn’t heard before.  He had heard you sing up close before, often coming by the shrine at early morning or late evenings just to hear it clearly rather than through his serpent’s blood.  He did not recognize this hymn, yet it resonated so clearly with his serpent counterpart as his blood felt like it was getting warmer behind his skin.  It raised goosebumps on his skin under his clothes and made the hair on the back of his neck stand. 

Whatever this new hymn was, it was immediately his favorite. The flutters it put in his chest made him remove his hand from his pocket just to push his palm against his breast. He felt his heart pound under his palm as he just stared at your back with wide eyes of awe. 

When the hymn was over and the first dance of the evening concluded, there was a round of applause for your unparalleled performance and then the instrumentalists finally took over.  

You felt a weight off your chest as you sighed in relief. You had performed well in your opinion. Not missing your notes or beat, but then again it would be harder to do an official hymn rather than the one you sung.  

“Y/n,” you heard Taehyung call behind you.  Turning, you saw his eyes shining brighter than usual- perhaps it was the ballrooms light gleaming in them. “That hymn, I hadn’t heard that before.” 

“Oh, well it’s because I composed that hymn myself.” You opened your hand and started counting on your fingers. “I suppose it was a few weeks ago, but I have begun writing my own hymns- just to see if perhaps they would be as effective as those written in our books.” You lowered your hand back to your side. “I hope it wasn’t distasteful to you,” 

“It was magnificent,” he breathed in truth. “I hope you sing it often so I may hear it.” 

“I-,” you stuttered at the compliments, “of course. If that’s what you wish, then it shall be my Prince.”  

Taehyung quickly reached for and took your hand, holding it tightly as he pulled you beside him. “Come,” he told you. Leading you out among the peoples in the rooms as they danced to the tunes played by the men who plucked strings and blew into flutes.  “Be my first dance,” he smiled.  “It may not be the first, but it shall be our first dance.” 

Taehyung’s hand re-positioned in yours as his other rested on your waist as you gripped his shoulder and your feet were soon slotted beside each other.  Your chest brushing against his as the next song had begun and your feet moved with the harp and flutes tune. 

Taehyung spoke as you danced, speaking of the upcoming wedding and it’s preparations.  The set up and guest attendance will be filled with all the people in the ballroom currently, leading to him telling you that they would all be staying on the island until the wedding had concluded.  The ceremony was hopefully going to be quick and not a drawn out afternoon, as you got choked up just thinking about it.  

Of course, the toughest part of it all would be vows.  

Your vows specifically.  You briefly wondered if in your vows that fateful day of union, you would admit to him finally that you had loved him for such a long time. Or, should you keep your secret locked up in your heart forever as to not ruin what could be a happy enough marriage. You shook your head, it was clearly Jungkook’s insistent pushing to make you confess getting to you.  You had already made your mind up, you couldn’t change it now. 

The song of harp and whistles ended and you almost immediately drew yourself away from your husband-to-be.  Before he could reach out and stop you from retreating he was flocked with all sorts of visitors.  Women asking to dance- to which he cannot refuse- and men wishing to converse of trade and business with him.  He watched over a sea of heads as you ran off until he couldn’t see you anymore. 

You had retreated to a wall hidden by a table with glass flutes of a sweet alcohol. Typically, you avoided the beverages, but just this once you decided to indulge just a little.  It was a white wine, clear as crystal but not as delightful to drink as the fountain's shrine water. 

“Good evening, My Lady,” a man addressed from beside you.  You were unaware of his approach and his opening startled you. Turning, you saw a man who was undoubtedly from somewhere far inland you imagined.  “I am Duke Lethan. I watch over a small country stead far from the coast of the mainland. I must say, your song earlier was beautiful.” 

His flattery felt nothing like Taehyung’s words.  His cheap words did not make your heart flutter or your stomach toss.  Though, he was being kind and so as to not ruin the merry mood of the ball, you humored him- as much as you wanted to be left alone.  

“Thank you very much, kind Duke.” You spent a small amount of energy carrying general conversation with the duke of the mainland as you kept your guard up. You never did trust the men from off the island, your recent visit abroad having one too many encounters with rude, entitled ones. 

You smiled when you were cued to smile, and you laughed at his small attempts at humble humor, but you just wished for the conversation to end and him to be on his way. Instead, he began to persist in the idea of a dance with you. 

Trying to politely decline the offer, he tried convincing you- obviously not taking no for an answer.  Ready to put your foot down, merrymaking be damned, you felt that familiar hand on your back before it slid around to encase your waist and rest just above your white laced stomach.  It was no surprise- or perhaps it was- to see Taehyung at your side as he held you to his chest. 

“I do believe she’s already refused a dance.  Go find a different partner if you would, Duke Lethan.” Not in a position of authority to begin to argue, the duke just lowered his head and went on his way into the crowd to find some other poor woman to give in to his pressure. “Y/n,” he called as you looked up at him from where you were once watching the duke retreat.  “Dance with me again just once more.” 

He had been watching you as soon as he could locate you after you left him after your dance.  When that duke approached you and started making you smile, something in his chest lurched.  He felt irked just knowing you were conversing so happily with a stranger and not with him.  He was distracted as he danced with a lady from the mainland and he quickly left her abandoned mid-song at the look of distress on your face when the duke wouldn’t depart from your presence.  

However, he would never disclose that to you. He didn’t even understand how he felt, all he knew was that he felt better when you were beside him like this.  

“I’d be honored to dance with you again, my Prince,” you agreed with a smile up at him and the pain in his chest soothed instantly.  You chalked it up to your imagination, but it felt like during this dance Taehyung held you tighter than before. 

As the evening finally started dwelling down, guests started dismissing themselves back to their temporary rooms in the castle or back into town where their room in a local Inn was waiting for them.  You were standing outside the ballroom, fiddling with your necklace. Exhausted from the evening of non-stop mingling and dancing.  

Taehyung had pulled you away from a handful of men who seemed a bit ‘too interested in his fiance’, he claimed.  You danced with him each time he did so. 

“Y/n,” Taehyung called behind you.  You startled, not expecting to be found in your little nook away from the dwindling down madness.  He came to stand beside you, his golden eyes and scales seemed to grow faintly in the dimly lit halls of his castle. “Are you well?” 

You felt a lot of things tonight.  The burning eyes of mainland damsels on your back when you danced with the prince they knew they couldn’t even begin to woo because he simply didn’t give them the time. The watching eyes of older couples of tradition who thought it unjust for a simple priestess to marry into royalty.  The sly eyes of men who wanted to dance to you and maybe catch a grip of something more- not that you’d allow that.  And the squeezing of your heart whenever Taehyung held you and danced. 

You sighed, making Taehyung take a step closer as he raised his arm to rest on your bicep, stroking it in comfort. 

“I just,” you cut yourself off with closed eyes and a breath. “I’m just overwhelming myself and thinking about something.” 

Taehyung moved to stand closer, grabbing your arm and hooking it around and under his own as his hip was next to you.  He smiled down at you as he started walking forward, pulling you with him lightly. 

“We’ll take a walk outside. Fresh air will help,” he told you in promise.  Maybe the moonlight would shed away your worries- you could only hope. You were hardly aware of where Taehyung was leading you as you were so lost in your head.  The fact that the man beside you was going to marry you in just a matter of days spiraled in your head like a hurricane. As did the doubt of if he even wanted to. 

When you finally noticed you had been walking with him in silence for a while, you clocked back into reality and realized he had taken you back to the garden maze.  This same maze is where you first truly realized you were in love with Taehyung and would be for the rest of your life- even if you were so young back then. 

When you were in danger, and you sang- it was him who came running. It was him who found you in the maze and it was him who held you as you cried yourself into unconsciousness.  

It was also this maze where you both sat just hours before that same day, talking in the sunlight that felt so comfortable.  The spot where you realized you were going to marry your childhood playmate. Your one and only love interest and also your kingdom’s precious prince who was filled with serpent blood.  It was this Taehyung who would be your husband and your feet stopped. 

You halted in his step as your arm slipped from around his where it rested and he jerked when he felt it fall and slip away from him.  He stood in front of you, half turned back to see your arm fall back to your side and your chin dipped.  

The way the moon cast a shadow over your body should have been a romanticized look of an ethereal priestess, but the way you stood and avoided eye contact only made it grim. The prince felt his stomach twist as he straightened his back as you lifted your head to look directly at him for the first true time tonight. 

His golden eyes widened a fraction at yours, seeing something in them waver and shake.  It pinned his feet in place. Stood frozen in a half turned state, facing you as your fists balls behind the skirt of your dress, wrinkling the palm of your gloves. 

“Be honest with me, Taehyung,” you called, foregoing his title and addressing him by name.  It made his hair stand.  “Are you going to be happy marrying me?” The prince parted his lips as he looked at you incredulously. Did you not want to marry him? Was that it? Was that what was weighing so heavily on your mind? 

Ever since he could remember, ever since he got engaged to you so long ago in youth, he had known this day would come. He knew a celebration would come and a wedding would soon follow. He knew you were going to become his wife and a princess along with your priestess role.  He had always known, and he had always been impatient waiting for all those moments to come. Now, they had and he was so caught up in himself and his own feelings- had he been wrong to think maybe you’d want to marry him too? 

“Do you regret agreeing to marry me, perhaps?” He asked in answer to your question, still not giving you a proper answer. Your fisted hands uncurled just enough to ensnare your skirt’s cloth as you squeezed them shut once again. 

“That isn’t it,” you harshly breathed.  Denying so strongly that, that isn’t how you felt.  “I’m- gods, I’m overjoyed that I get this chance. I am- just,” you took a calming breath. “I want to know if you’re doing this because you want to, or because your parents told you to.” You felt guilty, playing the card of his parents. He hadn’t often gone against their wishes because they were mostly reasonable people. You feared this engagement was just another order to him. 

“You mean,” he stuttered, finally turning fully around to face you. Still not daring to step closer yet in fear you’d turn and run from the tense air. “You don’t know?” You flinched under his words, thinking for a split moment he was reaffirming that this was because his parents thought it was for the best. “I never knew you thought I didn’t want this marriage to happen. I’ve always been under the impression we agreed to this because we both wanted it.” 

You looked at him with a twisted brow.  What? What does that mean? Before you could ask him, a tear slid down his cheek.  Falling over his golden scales from his equally as gold eyes.  You gasped, stepping closer to him and the moment your hand caressed his cheek and your thumb touched under his eyes, he felt like he could breathe again. 

“Why are you crying, my Prince? Don’t cry, please,” you pleaded.  “I apologize, I should have kept it to myself,” you tried to fix the situation, but the hiccup that leapt from his throat at your words only seemed to worsen it all. 

“Tell me,” he choked as he sniffed and you watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. “How do you feel about me as a husband?” 

“I-,” you hesitated. You could lie, tell him a fib to appease him. Though, if you did- you’d just be biting into your very own poison apple. You wouldn’t lie anymore.  “I love you, and I do want to marry you. I have ever since we were little because I’ve always loved you, Taehyung.” The word vomit spilled out in quick sentences, thinking that the speed of the words would hurt less coming out.  

The prince crumbled, his knees weakening as he grabbed your hands and pushed them further against his face.  His palm covering the back of your hand as his crying grew louder.  You panicked. 

Taehyung fell to his perfectly ironed knees as he kept your hands on his face, weeping. You panicked above him as he reeled into his mind- coming to such sudden realizations. You had been the only constant in his life aside form his very own family. You were always beside him, helping him and learning with him.  You helped him when you were little and you were helping him even now.  

Since when did you really grow up? When did he fall in love with you? 

He was so ignorant of his feelings, he had pushed them off as- he didn’t even know what.  Perhaps, he’s always known- but was too cowardly to admit it to himself and confront that love.  All while he sat in his ignorance, you were withering in your admission and acceptance to how you felt.  For so long, you had been growing more tired and the ache in your chest just kept growing because of him. 

He cracked his eyes open from their squeezed state when he felt your hand move under his to wipe his tears. Your figure was blurry, blending in with the moonlight in the maze when he snatched your wrist and yanked you towards him.  

He sighed when you fell down against his chest.  His breath stuttered with his exhale as he started to finally calm down.  

“I promise to take better care of it,” he started in a stiff, nasally tone. “So, please, give your heart to me and I’ll give you mine in return.” When you stiffened in his hold, he tightened his arms around you, burying his face into your neck where you could feel the chill of his tears on your skin. “I love so much about you, I can’t think of where to begin. Let me be selfish one more time when I ask you to never stop loving me. Because, I don’t think I can stop loving you either.” 

You’re not sure when your tears started falling, but there they were. Trailing down your cheeks and dripping off your chin as you rested against the prince’s shoulder. You just nodded, not trusting your voice.  

The two of you sat, kneeling in the middle of this garden maze crying for what seemed like an eternity before you both finally were able to talk to each other without tears or hiccups.  At the end of the night, Taehyung felt it far too difficult to let go of your hand when he walked you back to your room. 

“Mother,” Taehyung rushed into his parents’ room where the queen was sat at the balcony window, a cup of tea in her hands raised to her lips. “Have you seen Y/n, this morning?” 

“My, you seem to be in a hurry. Did something happen?” His mother’s question made the prince’s cheeks bloom before she was setting her cup down on it’s saucer before replacing it on the windowsill.  “Did you finally admit that you loved the girl?” She chuckled as Taehyung’s chip dropped and his mouth opened.  

“You knew?” He asked, astonished.  

“Call it a mother’s instinct, darling.” She teased.  “Plus,” she chuckled at the state of her son, “your shirt is half tucked in and your cloak isn’t properly clipped.” She rose from her chair and strode to her son’s front, properly latching the golden string across his chest to let the royal violet cloak rest on his shoulders like it should. “Must have been in a rush to see her, huh?” 

“I suppose so,” he smiled down at the top of his mother’s head.  “I’ve been putting her through so much during our years of engagement, I don’t want to be away from her when I don’t need to be.” 

“That’s a big admission from the Serpent Prince, isn’t it,” she jokes as Taehyung smiled wider and shook his head.  He knew she didn’t just see him as the ‘serpent prince’, and neither did his father.  It was just a long running tease from when he confronted them about his ‘destiny’ when he was a kid- birthed from your young, innocent advice.  His smile softened, another realization that opened in his mind of you. “Y/n was called for an early singular devotion. The waves were rough, so she set out to pray in the fountain at dawn.” 

Taehyung stepped away from the queen, thanking her before kissing her cheek and rushing off.  She just chuckled as she readied a story to tell the king when he came out of his morning shower.  

The shrine was deathly quiet as he walked through the doors as quietly as possible.  For single devotions, it was required for the center priestess or priest at the time of management to be alone in the shrine for prayers. It would heighten concentration of spiritual power. 

As soon as he entered, he could feel your power flowing through the shrine's interior like ribbons. He was one of a small circle of people who could enter the shrine anytime without reason no matter the devotion or time- a perk of being the descent of the island god. He walked through to the center fountain and just as he figured, there you were.  

Your back was to him as you were knelt in the fountain water. Your hands were clasped in front of you as your head was dipped, eyes shut and lost in your conscience. He leaned against a pillar, silent as he watched you. It was absolutely silent as you prayed, but he could stand there and watch you do nothing all day and be content.  

He pushed off the pillar when you shivered and then gasped with a jolt.  Losing your sense of balance, you teetered to the side, splashing your hand into the fountain to stop yourself from falling in completely.  The water splashed up into your face and clung to your already soaked, white prayer robe.  

He stopped mid step when you turned to look over your shoulder, seeing him there.  He felt like he had just got caught in a crime, though he was technically not breaking any rules. He saw you exhale a breath, your rigid back deflating into a terrible sense of posture.  

“It was just you, my Prince,” you breathed.  You sat back up, moving to stand from your kneeling in the water as you turned to walk out of the fountain. Taehyung rushed to the fountain’s wall, offering you his hand as you took it and watched your feet as you stepped out.  

Water followed you in a small wave when you hopped over the fountain wall and the shrine’s marble floor became wet as your robe dripped more water along it.  Your robe was nearly translucent.  

Taehyung could see the pink of your thighs and stomach all the way up to your ribs and around your back and bum.  It was proper attire to only wear a single white robe and nothing more when in singular devotion- a reason as to why it had to be cleared of all others in the shrine was to keep the body of the priest or priestess hidden from other’s eyes.  

He quickly unclipped his royal robe from it’s golden string and slung it off and around his shoulders to quickly wrap it around your wet body instead.  You greatly accepted the cover, hiding your body and what could be seen behind it’s thick, warm fabric. 

“What brings you here this morning?” You ask up to him, drops of water falling from strands of your hair.  Taehyung smiled at you, lifting those wet strands and putting them over your shoulder before he leaned to quickly kiss you.  When he stood up, you just covered your lips with your fingertips and a flushed face.  

“I wanted to see you as soon as possible, that’s all.” He gently led you to sit on the fountain wall as he sat beside you and before you could call him cheeky, you both were conversing like before.  Or, perhaps it was easier than before- talking to each other. “We’re getting married soon,” he happily reminded you as if you didn’t already start counting the days. 

“I’m very aware,” you humor him as you pull the cloak further around your shoulders. Taehyung placed his head on your shoulder and days later, when the wedding was held he was anxious all day. 

Unable to see you until the ceremony, he was restless while you were being groomed up and down, while Jungkook stood back and laughed, watching it all happen.  The prince was able to breathe again when you stood beside him as vows were spoken and promises made with them. 

You walked out of the shrine a married woman that afternoon.  That evening, you slept beside your husband and you woke up, not only a priestess, but a princess too. 

- END -