#it started with him on his throne covered in blood | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sansaorgana · 10 months ago

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— FORBIDDEN FRUIT

PAIRING — Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader // Baron Vladimir Harkonnen x fem!Reader

SUMMARY — After your planet was conquered by The Harkonnens, you are sent to Giedi Prime as a war prize to marry one of The Baron's nephews. However, Baron Vladimir changes his plans at the sight of you and decides to take you as his wife. Feyd-Rautha does not give up easily, though.

REQUEST — (1) // (2)

AUTHOR’S NOTE — It's finally here! I got carried away, not gonna lie... Look at the word count! 🙈 I might have forgotten about some warnings, just keep in mind the fic is dark and twisted 😝 By creating the Reader's homeworld and its customs I was loosely inspired by the mediterranean and islamic cultures but of course her physical appearance is not being described. 🤍

WARNINGS — arranged/forced marriage, blood, death, Baron Harkonnen being an absolute and non-consensual creep, Feyd-Rautha being non-consensual as well in the beginning, SMUT, fingering, oral, breeding (artificial and natural), incest undertones (they're not related but he calls her Aunt and she calls him nephew) + Feyd's traumatic past briefly mentioned, Reader is a few years older than Feyd but he is aged up to 20

WORD COUNT — 13,560 (🤡)

🔞 THIS FIC IS 18+ 🔞

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

FORBIDDEN FRUIT

Your homeworld used to be a Paradise. The sky was always blue, the weather warm but not too hot due to the light breeze coming from the Ocean. Cypress trees, pistachio nuts, olive branches and fish were what Pairi Daêza was famous for in the past centuries. It was a small planet that remained unnoticed and neutral in most of the conflicts. The Imperial Family loved to spend their holidays on Pairi Daêza and import their goods in a form of a tribute.

That was history. And although you were born on this beautiful planet, in your teenage years the whole world crumbled down and you were exposed to the true reality of the war. When one of the Imperial geologists had found a huge spice deposit under your planet’s Ocean, the destructive war began.

Your parents tried their best to avoid the conflict. They offered the Emperor to dry a huge part of the Ocean to harvest spice from there. In fact, your father the Sultan saw an opportunity of getting wealth and influence in this situation. And that probably was his downfall. The Emperor wanted all the spice for himself.

But The Emperor was not the one to get his hands dirty. No, he hired the most fearsome warriors and assassins to teach your planet a lesson. The Harkonnens.

While the battles were taking place on the ground, their special machinery was drying out the Ocean and harvesting the spice hidden underneath the water surface. The whole planet began to die off due to the lack of water. The crops were evaporating in the heat, people were starving and their homes destroyed. The Harkonnens were kidnapping your citizens to be their slaves and your father and his army were too weak to protect them. The subjects of the Sultan started a rebellion with the help of The Harkonnens and after long years of the ongoing and destructive war, it was the final blow for your father’s weak reign.

You were an adult woman now, standing proudly with a veil covering nearly your whole face with only eyes being on display like all unmarried women of Pairi Daêza traditionally wore. Surrounded from all sides by The Harkonnen army in your father’s throne room, holding your mother’s hand. The dignified and beautiful Sultana with the last piece of jewellery she had refused to give away – a majestic headpiece made of gold and sparkling gemstones of all the possible colours. They reflected the dim light creeping inside through the windows of the ruined Pairi Daêza Palace where you had been born and resided for your whole life. And where you would die with only a few the most loyal guards protecting you.

The front doors opened loudly and a huge, beastly looking Harkonnen man stormed inside with a few of his identical soldiers. You had heard of him, he was the terror of Pairi Daêza in the past few years. The Beast Rabban himself. He dealt with your guards completely on his own, feasting on their deaths with a psychotic smirk. You swallowed thickly at the size of his hands; so big and strong they could break you in half. You hoped for a swift and quick death – as a Shehzadi of Pairi Daêza you had your privileges and you counted that the mercy of Beast Rabban would be one of them.

He started to approach you confidently, his black armour stained with the blood of your guards, contrasting with his sickly pale skin. Your father stepped out to cover you and your mother with his own body as if it would stop the Beast. Rabban froze at the sight and let out a contemptuous laughter that echoed through the throne room.

“Your reign is over, Sultan (Y/L/N),” he announced. “Pairi Daêza and its spice is under The Harkonnen rule.”

“Pairi Daêza no longer exists. You have destroyed my world and you want to rule over the ruins,” your father drawled through the gritted teeth.

“We do not care about your world. We care about the spice. But you… You will be remembered as the Sultan whose reign was the last. The death of your world will forever be attached to your name,” Rabban pointed out and reached for his blade. “Come to me and fight like a man, I shall give you the privilege of defending yourself. Do not cling to the skirts of your wife and daughter. By doing so, you put them in the path of my blade.”

“Don’t hurt them,” your father approached him, despite your hands trying to stop him. “The planet and the spice are yours. You can kill me but spare my family,” he pleaded.

“Your wife will be given to the new Governor of Pairi Daêza and he will do as he pleases with her. Your daughter is our prize I will take with me to Giedi Prime,” Rabban laid his terrifying eyes on you and you froze out of fear. You’d rather die than be taken away to The Harkonnens. He could only see your eyes but it was enough for him to smirk and lick his lips in a disgusting manner.

This scenario was worse than the death you had been expecting.

“You will die,” he told your father and pointed at one of the deceased guards for your father to take his sword and be able to defend himself in a fair fight.

But you knew already it would be a slaughter you did not wish to see.

“Don’t kill him! Don’t kill my father!” You screamed and took a step ahead. Your mother sobbed behind your back.

“(Y/N), don’t…” your father shook his head.

“I will offer myself to you willingly if you spare his life and let him govern this planet in The Harkonnen name. He will obey your orders and so will I,” you promised.

It was common for parents to sacrifice themselves for their children. No one would ever question such an act. Why couldn’t it go both ways? You loved your parents just as much as they loved you. Especially in the last years of the war, you had grown very close having basically no one else by your side.

If you were all to die together, it was not a bad ending. But if they tried to kill your father, send you away and give your mother away to a stranger… you could not let that happen.

“What makes you think we care about women giving themselves to us willingly, Shehzadi?” Rabban snorted at you but he approached you slowly with his blade held up. “You’re confident to offer so little for wanting so much in return,” the tip of his blade lifting up the hem of your face veil as you trembled out of fear.

“There is no need for bloodshed. My father will bend his knee and I will go with you, my Lord,” you choked out, trying to hide your obvious fear.

Rabban tilted his head and laughed at you. Then, in one swift move he cut the veil open and you gasped as the fabric fell down on the floor, leaving you exposed in front of him and his Harkonnen soldiers. It was one of the greatest humiliations for the Pairi Daêza woman for her to reveal her face in front of a man outside her close family before her wedding. It was her husband who was supposed to lift the veil off of her face on their wedding day and see her first before every other man would. To take the veil off of an unmarried woman in an aggressive manner like this was the greatest disrespect that back in the day men had been punished for by the law.

Embarrassed and humbled down, you stood still, trying to stare back at the Beast Rabban with your shoulders straight and your lips pursed out of anger and determination.

“You are not mine for the taking. I am to take you to Giedi Prime and my uncle shall decide what to do with you. Most likely he will want you to be my younger brother’s bride because it is him who will inherit the title one day,” he told you and you felt a knot forming in your stomach.

You hated Rabban but he was the devil you knew from the stories and now personally as well. His brother was a new character in the story that you feared. What was he like?

“Why is that not you?” You asked him. “You have just conquered a planet for your uncle, have you not, my Lord?”

“It is not I who argues with my uncle’s decisions,” Rabban snapped at you but you saw in his cruel eyes that you had touched a sensitive subject with your question. “Will you bend your knee, Sultan (Y/L/N)?” He asked your father.

He was staring at you with a terrified expression on his face. He couldn’t believe what you had just done. But you knew he wouldn’t throw a fist now. He would bend his knee because your father was a weak man.

Deep down, despite your love for him, you hated him for his weakness. Most of your problems, most of the failures in this war were caused by this trait of his. You couldn’t blame him, though. The Sultans of Pairi Daêza had never been trained to fight or lead military campaigns. There had been no need for that in the past.

“I, Sultan (Y/F/N) of The House (Y/L/N), pledge my allegiance to The House Harkonnen,” your father kneeled and bowed his head down.

You watched Rabban closely. He could accept this offer but he could also simply behead your father.

“In the name of Baron Vladimir Harkonnen, may your service be accepted, Sultan (Y/L/N),” he nodded his head. “We didn’t know who to make the Governor of this wasteland anyway,” he snorted. “I guess this is solved. However, you will be watched carefully,” he squinted his eyes at your father. “I will leave my guards here and you will be spied on every second of your pathetic life, Sultan.”

“Yes, my Lord,” your father nodded. “What about the rebellion you helped to start? The citizens of Pairi Daêza do not wish me to stay in this Palace anymore.”

“You have my army to command now. You can slay them,” Rabban shrugged his arms and your father stood up clumsily.

“You helped them to start the rebellion against me and now you’re giving me your army to slay the rebels?” He asked to make sure.

“All we care about is your spice,” Rabban’s voice sounded casual and then he turned around to look at you again. “And your daughter,” he added with a smirk before approaching you and grabbing you by your arm roughly. You squealed as he started to walk you out of the room.

“Let me go!” You protested.

“You’re already breaking our arrangement, woman. You promised to be obedient,” he barked at you.

“I want to say goodbye to my parents,” you told him.

“It’s not the last time you’re seeing them. That is, if they play nice and don’t start anything,” he threatened as he looked at your scared parents.

Your mother risked it, though, and she ran up to you. Her shaking hands grabbed yours as she sobbed. She couldn’t say much because of her state but she didn’t have to.

“I will be fine, mama. I will survive and you have to as well, do you hear me? Otherwise my sacrifice won’t matter,” you told her and she nodded her head, silently choking on her sobs.

“That’s enough,” Rabban threw you over his shoulder swiftly like you were a sack of potatoes and he took you out of the Palace – straight to the huge Harkonnen ship that was destined to go back on Giedi Prime.

You were a war prize.

You didn’t know much about Giedi Prime except for scary legends and myths. The heavy industrial landscape was something you had not been used to nor was their black sun that was making everything on the planet black-and-white when you were spending time outside. Not that you had spent lots of time there. You were transported from the ship to the huge black fortress and into the chambers with a few female servants waiting for you. They bathed you carefully and put you in long black robes with a veil mimicking the ones that were traditional for the Pairi Daêza unmarried women. Only your eyes were visible when you looked at yourself in the mirror, but barely – the veil was decorated with dangling silver chains. They were making you look even more mysterious and kind of dangerous but the whole outfit felt like a mockery of the traditional robes of your people.

The unmarried women of Pairi Daêza were hiding their faces but their dresses were often made of a few layers of sheer and colourful materials. Just because they were under a cover, didn’t mean they were not cheerful and full of life. The dresses would be often decorated with lace, flowers or embroidery. They were flowy and ethereal when the women walked down the streets and all the married women who no longer had to hide their faces were envious as they remembered their younger days. On Giedi Prime you looked as if you were in a deep state of mourning. But perhaps you were. Your planet was destroyed, your family humiliated. And no one knew what would happen to you.

You were taken by the guards and followed by the servants to a huge throne room of The Baron Harkonnen. You had heard of him from your father so you expected the worst but his unnaturally huge and floating form still made the blood in your veins run cold. He was enormous and repulsing; sickly. Kept alive by the machinery behind him and the undying will to rule forever.

He was accompanied by Rabban who smirked at you when you walked inside. There was another man standing there, too. He was young; strong and muscular but also slim. Tall and proud in the way he stood. His face was full of cruelty and mockery but you had to admit he was rather attractive… at least for a Harkonnen male. His lips were full, his eyes reminded you of a snake but they were decorated with a long set of eyelashes. You hoped he was the younger brother that Beast Rabban had mentioned before.

You stood in front of the stairs leading to The Baron’s throne and you bowed down, waiting for his reaction.

“Shehzadi (Y/L/N),” he greeted you in a harsh, deep voice that sent shivers down your spine. “Finally I get to see you… Or not,” he added and you raised your head to lay your eyes on him. He was observing you carefully and so was the young man. “Take her veil off, Rabban, show me what you’ve brought here,” he snapped at his nephew and the Beast approached you. “She better be pretty enough for Feyd-Rautha if you decided to spare her father’s life for her,” The Baron teased him.

“Who would have thought that women were your weakness,” the man named Feyd hissed at his brother and you got startled by the sound of his voice. It was identical to The Baron’s in a twisted and uncomfortable way that formed a knot in your stomach.

You felt oddly bad for the Beast Rabban. He was the one to conquer your planet and he was the one to take you. Yet, you were a prize that he had won not for himself but for his spoiled younger brother. You couldn’t quite understand the dynamic of this family yet.

He stood next to you and grabbed the fabric of your veil in his fist in his usual brutal manner. By the pace of his breath, you could hear that he was as nervous as you were. If The Baron would not like you, he would be punished for going soft on your father.

Rabban’s hand hesitated before tearing the veil off of your face. It caught his younger brother’s attention. He hissed and walked up to you with a short knife in his hands that he had been playing with as if out of boredom. He smirked at you and revealed black teeth that made you flinch at the sight. Your reaction only excited him.

“How long do I have to wait, brother?” He asked as he cut the veil open, impatiently. Rabban took a step back and allowed his brother to take a better look at you. The Baron tried to peek in but Feyd was standing right in front of you and covering your face completely from his uncle’s sight.

The young man hummed to himself and tilted his head both sides. He raised his hand up and grabbed your chin to squeeze it gently.

“How old is she?” He asked his brother as if you could not speak.

“Shehzadi (Y/N) is twenty years old like you are,” Rabban tried to recommend your virtues the best he could, like he was a slave seller.

“Five and twenty,” you corrected him confidently, not feeling any shame about your age. Rabban took a sharp breath in as Feyd gave him a scolding look.

“A bit old, isn’t it?” The Baron’s voice interrupted them.

Feyd looked you up and down with so much fire in his eyes that you started to feel your cheeks heating up. You had never been looked at this way not only because of the custom of covering your face but also because it was not a way that men on Pairi Daêza would court women in.

“I’ll take her,” Feyd shrugged his arms as he announced to his uncle. He turned around to look at him and you sighed out of relief. So did Rabban.

“Move aside, Feyd,” The Baron barked at his nephew, impatiently. “It is I who decide,” he added and Feyd took a step to the left, revealing your form to his uncle. You had both of the brothers standing on both sides and their hideous uncle looming over a few steps ahead of you.

In complete silence he was watching you for a long while, puffing on his pipe. Finally, he beckoned you over to come closer. You gathered the fabric of your skirt in your hands and took a few steps ahead with your heart pounding in your chest.

“I shall take her,” he stated as the whole room went dead silent.

“What are you talking about?!” Feyd protested and you chewed on the insides of your cheeks, trying not to burst into tears. “She is mine for the taking!”

The Baron was a disgusting creature but you were aware that being his wife would give you more power and influence than marrying any of his nephews. It would protect your family better, too.

And every power came with a sacrifice.

Still, your dignity wanted to join Feyd-Rautha’s tantrum. You had been expecting to be given in marriage to a young and healthy warrior. Not an old and sickly piece of greasy meat in front of you.

“Shut up, boy!” The Baron yelled at Feyd and you flinched. “Don’t startle, my Shehzadi,” he cooed to you in a malicious whisper. “As you can see, none of my nephews are worthy of you nor my throne one day. You shall give me an heir,” he told you and you nodded, obediently. Fighting him had no purpose.

Feyd was furious. You heard him walking out of the room angrily and slamming the door behind him.

“You have just made an enemy, my Shehzadi,” The Baron reached his swollen pale hand with the green and blue veins popping out. You gently took it and nearly gagged at the feeling of it.

“Me, my Lord?” You tried to bat your eyelashes at him. Your voice shivered out of fear and he smirked at you.

“Feyd-Rautha will no longer be the Na-Baron when our son is born. He will do everything to get rid of you and the child. You shall be careful, sweet Shehzadi,” he warned you. “I have my ways of keeping him obedient. When he’s not showing you proper respect, you will tell me, yes?”

“Y-yes, my Lord,” you nodded.

“Good,” he squeezed our hand gently and you felt your stomach turning. “Go, prepare for the wedding,” he let go of you and raised his finger to touch your cheek. It was getting difficult to hide your repulsion but on the other hand it was oddly satisfying to know that you were chosen by The Baron himself.

You bowed down and walked out of the room with the guards and servants. They all were staring at you with widened eyes, as shocked with the outcome of this day as you were.

You hadn’t seen The Baron for the past few weeks of the preparations for the wedding. In fact, you hadn't seen anyone. You had been kept a prisoner in one part of the fortress but you did not mind that at all because you had lots of servants and your chambers did not lack any luxury. The only thing you missed was nature – the greenery, the sound of birds, the feeling of the sun on your skin, the light breeze of the Ocean. But there was no way of coming back to it. Pairi Daêza had none of it anymore.

Spoiled as a child, you were harshened in your teenage years by the war taking place in your homeland. Despite your father’s weakness flowing in your blood, you had learnt how to adapt and survive. You would survive just well on Giedi Prime, you decided.

The only thing you dreaded about your marriage was the physical aspect of the union. However, you had been informed by the medic visiting you every morning about the nature of your future duties.

“These injections are supposed to prepare your body for carrying a son,” he told you after sticking a syringe with an odd liquid into your vein. “After the wedding you will be bred to carry The Baron’s heir, my Lady.”

“Bred?” You swallowed thickly.

“I will insert the seed during a swift and painless procedure, my Lady,” he assured you.

“So… I will not be…” You didn’t know how to say it without offending The Baron.

The medic knew, though. He looked up into your eyes as your face was covered with the black veil. The Baron had liked your homeworld’s tradition and allowed you to cover your face until the wedding.

“The Baron’s health does not allow such activities,” he informed you and you sighed out of relief. “Which does not mean he will not demand some… other duties.”

You nodded your head at him. Some other duties, whatever they meant, you could survive. It was the haunting image of him hovering over you or taking you from behind that was keeping you sleepless recently. You had come to Giedi Prime completely innocent in that subject but you made your Harkonnen servants tell you all about it. They were experienced, especially the ones who had been called late at night to Feyd-Rautha’s chambers. The young na-baron apparently liked sex a lot. The more you were finding out about him and his nature, the more glad you were that it was his uncle you were marrying. At least he was not so young; not so full of adrenaline and testosterone as his nephew.

Giedi Prime had not had a Baroness in a long time. The ceremony was about to be the grandest you had ever experienced. The leaders of the great houses had been invited – your parents amongst them. Even The Emperor himself had sent an envoy to take part in the event in his name. You had never expected to hold such importance in the Galaxy. After all, you were only a Shehzadi of a small and unimportant Pairi Daêza. The spice deposit had truly changed everything.

Your servant women worked on your huge wedding dress. It was black, too, of course. Everything was black. But there was some meaning behind it, in fact, since the wedding was an occasion to mourn your maidenhood and your previous life. The veil covering your face was decorated and attached to the upper part of your bodice, so when your face would be revealed and the veil taken off, your dress would stop being so modest and show off your breasts squeezed by a corset. You didn’t feel comfortable with that idea. Women on Pairi Daêza were not known for revealing their physical virtues in such a way. But Harkonnen women were their husbands’ prizes and trophies. You wanted to make The Baron proud because it would keep him happy. And keeping him happy meant the safety of you and your family. You didn’t want to play many games. You just wanted to survive.

You actually wanted to give him a son. Because giving him a son would seal your fate as The Baroness. Your position would be untouchable and that awful Feyd-Rautha could throw tantrums about it but it would be your son who would inherit the title of The Baron.

You were allowed to see your parents before the ceremony because they were supposed to leave early in the morning on the next day and in the evening there would be no occasion to be left alone with them like you were now. Alone in a room with your mother and father whose faces looked worried and exhausted. Their clothes were different than you remembered. Less colourful as if they were grieving, too.

“Are you alright?” Your mother asked you. She approached you and tried to lift the veil off but it refused to move.

“It is attached to the dress. I am fine,” you assured her. “Do not worry, my face is not bruised. You will see when he takes it off,” you nodded.

“It is an honour for you to marry The Baron himself,” your father smiled at you gently. “A great honour that he has liked you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” your mother scolded him. “It is awful, awful news. You know what he’s like. He’s destroyed our planet!”

“She can handle that for all the power she’s going to have now,” he shrugged his arms.

“How easy it is to say for a man,” your mother sighed. “You owe her your life.”

“I do and I am grateful,” your father nodded his head at you.

“And yet you demand more,” you whispered to him. He froze. “You demand of me to keep The Baron happy so he doesn’t get rid of you. But that is your part of the deal. You shall obey him and play nice as you promised. As long as you do that, there is no threat and my protection is not required.”

“If you think this way, why are you here, all dressed up to get married?” He raised his eyebrow.

“For mother,” you held her hands gently, “because you will not be able to protect her like me,” you added sternly.

Your father looked away, frustrated. He wanted to snap at you but he could not. Not when you were The Baron’s bride. You were no longer his daughter but almost another man’s wife. And the man was too powerful to disrespect.

The ownership of women. Once your father’s, then your husband’s. Freedom would come only in the case of a man’s death. And yet, men wondered why so many women were so angry and bloodthirsty.

“Time’s up,” one of the guards entered the room harshly. “Shehzadi (Y/N) is asked to attend the ceremony,” he announced and nodded at you. You nodded back and squeezed your mother’s hands for the last time before following the guard into the dark and cold corridor of the fortress, trying to keep your veiled head high.

Out of the people gathered for the ceremony, one pair of eyes was locked on you the most intensely. The dark eyes of Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen were observing your every move, every gesture, every breath and every word. You felt suffocated by his gaze. It was full of fire like the first time he had seen you but also full of hatred and contempt. You couldn’t tell if he wanted to claim you or kill you. Perhaps both answers were true. You wouldn’t be surprised after hearing all the stories about him.

You feared him the most out of all The Harkonnens. Beast Rabban was the devil you knew and you were his weakness because you were the prize he had conquered himself. The Baron was terrifying and dangerous but he was rather calm and he treated you like a pet so as long as you were quiet and obedient, he did not take pleasure in tormenting you. Feyd-Rautha was different. He was psychotic and your wedding to his uncle was making him lose the greatest deal – his inheritance.

The worst part of the wedding ceremony was the kiss. Not that The Baron had been particularly passionate about it but something about his lips touching yours – even though briefly – was making your insides twist. Perhaps being married to him wouldn’t be as easy to survive as you had been hoping.

When The Wedding Games had begun, Feyd-Rautha joined them eagerly with all the fierceness a warrior could possess. It was an old and dreadful tradition full of blood and violence, a display of power and murderous Harkonnen nature. The men, usually gladiators, were fighting for life and death. Only one could remain and become the winner who would be forever remembered. When his nephew joined the fight, your new husband didn’t look very pleased and he followed every movement of his boy carefully, keeping his eye on the guard, too. He was scared of losing his heir after all.

You watched Feyd-Rautha fight as well. His moves were swift and confident. It was bringing him joy to both hurt and be hurt. He was playful in combat – smirking, winking, occasionally looking back to make sure you were watching. And whenever he was the one to take the blow, he would let out a laugh and hiss in pleasure. He was an odd, scary creature because he had no fear of any sort of pain. Not even death most likely.

Eventually, he killed the last opponent right in front of your eyes, wanting for you to flinch, you suspected. You did not give him such satisfaction. All the years of the war on your planet had made you immune to the sight of such violence and death.

He let out a triumphant yell and raised the bloody knife before bowing down and reaching his hands out with the blade towards you. You stood up and accepted his offering as you had been taught by your servants the past few weeks during your preparations.

“Thy display of power and bravery has been noticed, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen,” you told him the words you had learnt by heart.

“For my Baroness I will shed the blood of my enemies,” he looked up intensely at you and you swallowed thickly. You hated when he was staring like this. You only nodded and turned around to hand the bloody blade to one of the guards who would secure it. The blade would later be on display in the Memory Room.

You sat back down and forced a small meal upon yourself. In the meantime, your husband had already left the party. Not that you minded.

Feyd and Rabban were sitting nearby. Both were staring at you but the older one actually looked as if he was sorry for you. He hadn’t spoken a word to you ever since his uncle had decided to be the one to marry you. It was nearly funny how back on Pairi Daêza everyone feared the Beast Rabban but here on Giedi Prime he was the least important pawn of the game.

Around midnight, one of The Baron’s servants leaned in to whisper into your ear to inform you that your husband had been waiting for you in his chambers. You swallowed thickly and nodded your head before standing up and leaving the dining room as fast as possible.

In the dark corridor you slowed down, though, not wanting to walk too fast and approach the dreaded room too soon. The guards were not following you but you knew the way, you had been taught it by your servants even though your chambers were in a different part of the fortress. Now, as The Baroness, you would get the new ones – even more splendid and luxurious. But you had been told you would not share them with your husband which was a great comfort.

Halfway there you heard footsteps behind you and you angered. Whatever humiliation was there to come, you did not want any witnesses. The corridor was dark and empty and yet some guard decided to follow you. You turned around furiously, ready to scold him. But it was no guard. It was Feyd-Rautha.

He leaned on the wall with a smirk and squinted his eyes at you.

“What do you want?” You asked him and clenched your jaw.

“Like a sheep for slaughter,” he snorted at you.

“That is none of your business, I believe,” you straightened yourself and raised your chin up.

He didn’t like your remark as he moved away from the wall and approached you quickly. In no time you felt his face looming over yours, mere inches away.

“I know what he’s going to do to you,” he whispered as you tried to remain cool but his words made you terrified. There was an odd sparkle in his eye, like he was enjoying your torment. He probably was.

“Fuck me?” You tried to pretend it didn’t bother you.

“Well, well, well, look at how dirty your mouth can be, Shehzadi,” Feyd-Rautha grabbed your cheeks to squeeze them and your eyes widened at his insolence.

“To you, I’m The Baroness,” you mumbled out.

“Sure you are, little snake. How else should I call you? An aunt?” He teased. “I shall,” he added. “No, he’s not going to fuck you. But he’s going to touch you and this reeking, slimy feeling won’t ever leave your skin. You will feel him always,” he moved even closer to you. You wondered how he could know such things. Then you felt how hard he was underneath his leather pants. You were scared he would hurt you now, which would make your husband furious and toss you aside, surely.

“Sounds like you’d like to watch,” you drawled, regretting it instantly. He took a sharp breath in and pushed you against the wall, still holding your cheeks but now you were trapped between his body and the cold marble.

“Don’t be disgusting,” he warned you. It was surprising there were things he was finding gross. He didn’t look like the type. “You’ve no idea what’s waiting for you, aunt,” he hissed.

“Aw, you’re worried?” You cooed and he let go of your cheeks angrily. He remained close to you, though. You felt his hot breath on your face. He smelled like blood and leather.

Feyd’s hands dropped to your waist. Before you could stop him, he was pulling up all the layers of your dress, desperately trying to get the access between your legs. You grabbed his wrists, trying to stop him quietly.

“No, no, no, please, no,” you whispered in a panic. “Please, don’t hurt me.”

“I’m not going to hurt you, aunt. He’s going to do it,” Feyd snorted at your words and froze when all the layers of your dress that had been on the way were finally moved aside. A cold shiver went down your legs at the feeling of your exposed thighs. Feyd cupped your womanhood covered with black silky underwear. You gasped at the feeling as your eyes widened when you looked at his face. His lips curled into a smirk as you shook your head.

“Relax, Baroness, I’ll ease you for him,” he told you as his fingers hooked on the edge of your underwear. You felt his cold fingertips brushing your pussy softly and a set of shivers went down your spine at that sensation.

You didn’t know how to feel about it. Your heart was pounding in your chest and you were getting dizzy. Your mind wanted him to stop but your body did not. Despite the lack of experience, you knew that The Baron would not make you feel the same way as his young nephew would.

“I won’t fuck you,” he let out a raspy whisper, “he would kill us both for that.”

“He wouldn’t know,” you told him and Feyd tilted his head at you. “I’ve been examined by the medic this morning to prove my innocence. I doubt he will examine me now again.”

“Believe me, he would know,” Feyd let out a laugh as he moved your underwear aside and exposed your womanhood. It was too dark for you to feel ashamed of it but it still felt incredibly wrong. Yet, you didn’t ask him to stop. Not that it would change anything.

He raised his hand up to his full lips and licked them while staring deep into your widened eyes. Then he put his hand between your legs again and began to touch you in your most intimate place. You sighed at the feeling of his wet and cold fingers trying to get between your folds.

“Open your legs further,” he ordered and your body obeyed by moving the legs more apart before your mind could take over and make a responsible decision to run away. Not that you could run away because with his free hand he grabbed one of your wrists and pinned it to the wall above your head.

Once he got a better access to your pussy, Feyd focused on massaging your sweet spot that made your eyes roll to the back of your head, occasionally dipping his finger carefully inside of you to gather some of your wetness. You moaned softly and dug your fingernails into his bicep, feeling a close release. He was smirking at how fast he could make you reach your high but you didn’t care. You hated him but his fingers were skilled, making you stand on your toes as the muscles of your abdomen tensed, desperately wanting more friction.

“I’m gonna…” You gasped and that was when he took his hand away, fixed your underwear and took a step back, letting the folds of your dress fall down to their place. It took you a moment to collect yourself and realise that he had left you without a release but with a deep and urgent need. “What was that?” You asked.

“Now it won’t hurt when my uncle does the same to you, aunt. Maybe you’ll even cum with his fingers inside you as you remember my fingers on your cunt,” Feyd chuckled contemptuously and licked his fingers clean as you watched with terror in your eyes. “Sweet. Like I’ve imagined a cunt from Paradise to be,” he commented and turned around to walk back to the party, leaving you breathless and dizzy with an ache between your legs.

For a while you forgot where to go. You kept taking wrong turns before finally approaching the doors leading to The Baron’s chambers. At your state you weren’t even scared anymore. Feyd-Rautha had eased your mind indeed and reduced your body functions to one primal need.

You pushed the door open softly and entered your husband’s chambers. They were nearly empty and very cold. In the middle of it, there was a big bathtub full of a black substance. He was bathing in it and puffing on his pipe as he squinted his eyes at you.

“What took you so long, Baroness?” He asked and you cleared your throat, trying not to sound too shook up. The sight of him in that bathtub made your desire much lesser, though. Even the memory of Feyd-Rautha’s cold fingertips brushing your clit lightly and teasing you with pleasure could not make you feel the same excitement again.

“I’m sorry. I got lost,” you answered, which had been only half a lie.

“Don’t worry, Baroness, you will soon remember the way,” he wasn’t angry and he beckoned you over with a move of his wrist.

You approached him obediently although your limbs were getting numb. You were left completely alone with him and you had no idea what he would want now from you. As your husband he could demand anything and you’d have to follow.

“Undress yourself,” his voice was softer than when he would address his nephews but it was still an order as he watched carefully with squinted eyes.

You nodded shyly at his words and began to clumsily take your gown off. It was a complicated piece of fashion and you did not have any servants to assist you. However, your husband was not rushing you, he simply watched and he was visibly content.

When you were naked, you covered yourself with your hands as you stood in front of him. He looked up from his bathtub and puffed on his pipe with a smirk.

“No, no, don’t hide,” he shook his head. “Come, join me,” he invited you in and you swallowed thickly at the black slime he had been bathing in. You doubted it was harmful but you didn’t want to sit in the same substance as him. “Join me,” he repeated, more sternly this time and you bit on your lower lip as you nodded and entered the bathtub.

Your body was shaking but the odd liquid was nicely warm and relaxing. The feeling of it helped you ease a bit. You sat as far away as possible from him.

“Come closer, Baroness. You see, I’m old now and not of the best health. I sadly cannot perform my marital duties and satisfy you like a husband would,” he pretended to feel sorry for you. “But I want to play with you a little and admire my new wife,” he reached out his hand and you took a deep breath in before holding it and letting him pull you closer. “Do you know why I took you for myself?” He whispered and you shook your head. “Because he wanted you so much.”

When you left The Baron’s chambers, there were two scared female servants waiting already behind the doors. At the sight of you leaving in a hurry, they entered – most likely to finish what you had started. You hurried to the rooms that were supposed to be yours now. They were empty since your own servants would come in the morning.

You had been barely dressed because you wanted to leave his room as fast as possible. This time taking your dress off took you a few seconds and you jumped into the bathtub in the bathroom and filled it with warm water. With a sponge laying on the counter you started to scrub your body harshly, causing the skin to bleed in a few places. You wanted to get the black slime off of you and – most importantly – your husband’s touch.

Feyd had been right. What his uncle had done to you was not the worst – he had been touching and teasing, sniffing your scent and caressing your skin as he had whispered about the beauty of youth and innocence. But the fact that it had been him doing so, it made it the most disgusting thing you had ever experienced. You gagged at the very memory of it and now, after your wedding night, you no longer felt comfortable with the idea of being bred with his son even if it would be an artificial conception.

You started to sob uncontrollably. You hated The Harkonnens. They had destroyed your planet and your childhood. Now they destroyed your innocence and womanhood. You would never get free of them.

But death was not an option. It would be an easy way out. You had to be strong.

The medic’s procedure had truly been quick and painless but you felt disgusting leaving the medical wing of the fortress knowing that The Baron’s seed might be already growing in you. To make it worse, on your way back to your chambers, you spotted Feyd-Rautha coming back from the training yards. He smirked at the sight of you as you froze, still remembering the last night’s blasphemous act of intimacy that he had performed.

“Aunt,” he greeted you with a nod of his head.

“Nephew,” you answered in a similar manner as you looked him up and down.

Sweaty from the combat and still wielding a blade, he looked incredibly magnetic at that moment. His youthful and fearless energy was unfortunately drawing you in. The way he was staring at you made you remember how good his fingers had felt on your pussy and it brought the heat up to your cheeks. You wished he would stay away from you because his very presence was a torment.

“How was it?” He leaned in when he spoke to you, his eyes carefully watching your figure. You did not give him an answer. “Did you cum?”

“You’re an insolent brat, Feyd-Rautha,” you told him sternly and he straightened himself. You spoiled his fun by not being scared nor disgusted. “I want you to stay away from me since I might already be carrying your uncle’s true heir,” you added.

The playfulness of his eyes turned into anger very quickly. He pointed at your abdomen with his blade and you flinched. The guards standing a few steps behind you, hurried to your side immediately.

“You will soon realise, aunt,” Feyd drawled, “that he is your enemy – not me. He will destroy you like he destroys everything he ever lays his hands on.”

“Like he destroyed you?” You raised your eyebrow curiously and he lowered the blade. His jaw clenched but there was a shadow of hurt in his eyes at that moment, which surprised you. You didn’t expect a man like him to ever feel hurt.

Feyd-Rautha did not reply to that. He walked away without a word, followed by your guards’ eyes.

“Are you alright, my Lady?” One of them asked you and you nodded. “Shall we tell The Baron about the incident?”

“Yes,” you nodded. “His nephew’s antics must be tempered.”

Six months had passed since your wedding day and you still were not carrying The Baron’s heir. Your husband was growing impatient and the only thing stopping him from getting angry at you was the medic’s declaration that it had not been your fault but the seed’s quality was weak due to your husband’s age and condition. Even enhanced artificially with the Harkonnen science, it could not settle well in your womb. At this point you were so drugged with their injections to the point that you wouldn’t be surprised if a simple touch of any other man than your husband would put a son in you. How ironic.

You had no idea what The Baron had done to Feyd-Rautha but after the corridor’s incident the young man had been avoiding you. He had been watching you carefully from afar with eyes full of hatred like an ominous shadow following you behind wherever you would go. But he would not approach you nor talk to you unless he had to in an official situation. He would always address you with respect as The Baroness or Aunt. You had noticed that it brought him a twisted pleasure to call you by that name.

Your husband hadn’t been spending much more time with you either. He would be next to you during the official events and he would ask you to join him in his chambers about once or twice a week but other than that you had been spending your days alone with nobody but your female servants and male guards, occasionally with the medic. It was a lonely life but at least you weren’t exposed too much to the dreadful Harkonnens… except for the nights you were expected to perform some sort of marital duties.

No amount of time had made you used to The Baron’s touch. You would flinch every time he caressed your body or admired it while whispering the filthiest things. But after the first month your body had developed a defence mechanism of dissociation during those acts.

Technically speaking, though, after six months of being The Baroness Harkonnen, you remained a virgin. The marriage had not been consummated properly so The Baron could divorce you without consequences any day. Giving him a son was the only thing that would legitimise your union. And as much as you dreaded his spawn growing inside of you, you wanted to secure your position. The frustration of not getting pregnant had brought you to tears many times before.

It did now as well. An hour after finding out that the last week’s procedure had failed and the seed had not settled in your womb. The medic had been both sorry for you and himself because he had known that The Baron’s rage would mostly be aimed at him for not doing enough. Soon, though, you were sure, it would reach you as well.

Your chambers were being cleaned at the moment and you wanted to be alone so you wandered to a different part of the fortress and hid in one of the empty study rooms. You kicked your shoes off and sat on a black leather armchair by the wall as you sobbed into your hands, curling up with your feet up on the seat. You felt so small and unimportant at that moment; you missed home and you missed your mother’s embrace. You missed any sort of affection.

Focused on self-pity you did not hear the doors opening. You only startled at the sound of them closing loudly and you froze at the sight of Feyd-Rautha who had just entered the study room. At first, he stiffened seeing you as well.

“What are you doing here, aunt?” He asked, carefully.

“It is none of your business, go away,” you ordered, trying for your voice not to break and reveal your crying state.

“You cannot command that,” he snorted at you.

“I am your Baroness. I can and I will,” you sniffled your tears back and you hugged yourself tighter as if you wanted to protect yourself from him.

Feyd ignored your words, though. He approached you confidently and smirked after realising what you had been doing.

“Yes, feast on the sight of me crying,” you snapped. “What a pleasure it must be for you. Let me please you further, dear nephew. I am still not expecting an heir that would take your place. Happy now?” Your voice trembled.

“Look at you, you’re glowing,” he crouched down to be on your level as he whispered in an oddly seductive way. You furrowed your brows at his words and he reached his hand out to brush your cheek stained with tears. “They’ve injected so many hormones into you, Baroness, you’re practically begging to be fucked. You’ve no idea what the smell of you does to men around you…” He brought his finger to his mouth and licked the tip softly. “The taste… Even your tears are an aphrodisiac,” he looked up at you and you swallowed thickly. It was making you uncomfortable but for the first time in a long time you felt seen. “What a torment it must be. Do you touch yourself, aunt?” He asked and the insolent question snapped you back to reality.

“I’ve no idea how he punishes you but you’re asking to be punished again,” you warned him.

“I can show you how he punishes me,” Feyd did not wait for your answer as he took his black shirt off, revealing his pale and strong chest. His hard muscles were simply beautiful, you had to admit it. But when he turned around to show you his back, he revealed dozens of thin scars scattered all over. Some were white and bumpy, visibly old. But some were more fresh and still reddened. You hissed at the sight and he turned his head around to look at your face.

“I’m sorry, I did not know…” You admitted and reached your hand out to touch some of them gently. You let your finger follow the lines and he smirked.

“Don’t be sorry, aunt. I enjoy the whipping,” he grabbed your wrist and turned his body in your direction again.

“It is hard to believe, Feyd-Rautha,” you admitted. “I thought his punishment was based on threats.”

“His methods are more sophisticated,” Feyd sneered. “Now, I’ve revealed myself to you, Baroness. Will you reveal yourself to me?” He asked and you furrowed your brow. “Do you touch yourself?” He repeated the question that caused your cheeks to heat up.

“Sometimes,” you answered. “I start but I never finish because somewhere in the middle I get haunted by the visions of his hands touching me and they make me sick,” you whispered your secret.

“Poor aunt, you must be so tense,” Feyd cooed to you and let go of your wrist. “So ready and eager to welcome a child in her womb and yet so unsatisfied.”

You hated to admit that he was right. The amount of hormones that had been injected made your breasts and womanhood sensitive, a single brush of your servant’s hand during the bathtime was enough to fill you with desire. Most of the time you were walking around with an itch deep between your legs, a heavy burden that could not be removed by any means.

Now, Feyd-Rautha being so close to you and talking to you in such a manner was not helping. In fact, it was making your condition worse.

“What do you care?” You asked. “I thought you don’t want me to carry him a son. If he tossed me aside or even killed me, it would be your victory,” you pointed out.

“My greatest victory would be humiliating him by putting my son in your womb,” Feyd watched your reaction carefully but you didn’t even flinch at the sound of that.

He was young and so full of life. You were sure he’d succeed during the first try. It would secure your position and keep The Baron Happy.

“What if he finds out? He’d kill us both,” you bit on your lower lip.

“And you think I would allow that?” He snorted at you, revealing his black teeth. You were so shook up that in this state you even found them attractive. The fact they were so black, so different, so extraordinary, symbolising his brutality. You wanted to kiss him. You wanted his toxic saliva to poison your innocence. You wanted to be trapped under him as he ravages you.

He had to notice the shift of your gaze, the way you face changed its expression. He smirked triumphantly, already knowing that you craved him.

“The medic… He will see I was deflowered,” your last hesitation made you speak up your concerns.

“The medic?” Feyd-Rautha chuckled contemptuously. “The same one who is working for me? The same one who is making sure that my uncle’s seed is not succeeding?”

“Wh-what?” You choked out but he only smirked as he shushed you.

“Don’t forget you were supposed to be mine, little snake. I do not give up easily,” he admitted and with one rapid movement of his strong hands he pushed your legs apart as your thin silky dress pulled up, revealing you to him. “Let’s give you a quick release before I properly breed you. You must be in such pain and torment,” he cooed.

Your eyes widened at his actions but you did not protest. Your limbs were getting numb out of the overwhelming desire and feeling his breath on your pussy was nearly enough to make you cum on spot.

Feyd dropped to his knees and leaned in even closer, biting the soft flesh of your thighs gently with his black teeth and leaving trails of saliva. You felt your womanhood pulsating, begging for his attention. He had to notice the twitching muscles underneath your underwear as well as he chuckled and took it off of you greedily. He froze for a moment with his eyes fixed on his prize and he slowly licked his lips.

“So swollen and eager. The smell is enough to put only one thought in my head,” he admitted. “Make you swell with my seed. Come here,” he crooned in his coarse voice that sent shivers down your spine as he grabbed your ankles and pulled you closer to the edge of the armchair’s seat. He threw your feet over his muscular shoulders and opened his mouth to stick out his long and slim tongue to show it off for you as you took a deep and shaky breath in.

Feyd leaned in and buried his face between your wet folds that had been anticipating any sort of release for weeks now. You gasped loudly at the sensation of the tip of his tongue tickling your sensitive sweet spot. His mouth was so skilled that he did not require the assistance of his hands as he placed them flat on your thighs to keep steady. He would gather your wetness with his tongue and then dip it all inside of you, making your back arch and hips rise slightly for more friction. There were times when his whole face was buried deep into you but he did not even flinch from the lack of air as he was devouring you, licking you completely clean like a starving dog and then focusing again on your swollen clit. Whenever he teased it, you were sure you’d cum now but then he would move his tongue away over and over, keeping you on the edge.

Your gasps and soft moans filled the room. You were trying to hold yourself back a little, ashamed of being so displayed for him but on the other hand it was him kneeling down to lick your pussy like a servant. It was you who was in control and the thought of that alone was enough to turn you on even more.

Your hands had been squeezing the armchair’s leather fabric but you dared to place them on the back of Feyd’s bald head and he did not protest. In fact, he moaned at the feeling as a pleasurable vibration went down your body. Your toes curled when you pushed his face even deeper and you felt the pressure of his nose on your clit when he was fucking you with his long tongue.

The overwhelming desire stripped you out of shame as you began to move his head up and down, rubbing your pussy all over his face while your moans grew higher and louder. Fuck it, you thought, you deserved it. After months of such a sad and awful marriage, being The Baron’s trophy wife, unsatisfied and yet violated by his repulsing touch, you deserved to cum on his handsome nephew’s face. It was the least Feyd-Rautha could do to make it up for you.

With a loud moan, shaky breath and trembling legs you finally reached your peak. Although the movements of your hips came to a halt and your hands stopped pushing his face, he was relentlessly sucking on your clit throughout your high, until you begged him to stop and he hesitantly let go of your glistening pussy with your sticky juices vulgarly dripping down his chin as you looked down at him with hazy eyes.

“I could feast on you for days, Baroness, you’re as sweet as a ripe fruit from your homeworld,” Feyd did not bother with wiping his face. He took your limp feet and calves from his shoulders and threw them back on the floor before placing one last kiss upon your wet mound as your pussy twitched uncontrollably in an aftershock.

You didn’t know what to say. You could see the hunger in him, he expected more and you wanted it, too. You wanted to feel his cock inside of you, you wanted him to fuck you like The Baron could never do.

“Claim me, Feyd-Rautha,” you ordered in a weak voice. “I want to remember with satisfaction each time he asks for me that it is you who have claimed me and fucked me. Put your son in me and smile every time you see me walking swollen with your seed as you know that it is yours and not his. If you’re a good boy now, I might reward you and let you feast on my fruit every night in my chambers,” you promised, like it would bring him more pleasure than you, which was not true at all. You craved it as much as him, if not more.

Your words elicited even greater hunger inside of him as he grabbed you by your ankles and pulled you down on the cold marble floor. The coolness of the stone brought some relief to your feverish body, your dress was still pulled up and you watched Feyd positioning himself above you as you bit on your lower lip and realised he would truly claim you now, on the floor of an empty room in secret. There was something barbaric about it and the fact you were an innocent lady from a planet known as Paradise who would be taken by such a brute warrior was making you go dizzy. You didn’t even fear the pain that would come with it because you wanted it – you wanted him to stretch you out and fill you.

When such thoughts were invading your mind and exciting you all over again, Feyd got his cock out of his leather pants and stroked it at the sight of you waiting for him with your legs open. With his free hand he gathered the wetness of your pussy and coated his length with it before hovering over you with his face inches away from yours.

“It’s going to hurt, my Lady,” he warned you with a smirk, there was absolutely no worry in his voice.

“I want you to hurt me,” you nodded and grabbed his biceps, ready to dig your nails in them as he’d slide inside.

Your spent and overstimulated pussy was relaxed enough to welcome him but the burning sensation made your back arch and your eyes roll, you were sure your fingernails made his shoulders bleed but you did not care. The pain was overwhelming and mixed with pleasure, you felt as full as you could and yet he still had more and more to give you, sliding it inside slowly, inch by inch, with a raspy moan and his forehead pressed to yours.

“You’re so tight,” Feyd breathed out, “open your eyes,” he commanded and your eyes fluttered open to stare into his cold and intense gaze. “I want you to look at me when I fill you up with my son,” he added and you nodded, still too overwhelmed to speak but already getting used to his size as if your pussy was made for his cock.

Once you nodded, he started rutting into you with all his force without any warning. You dug your fingernails even deeper into his flesh and moaned out of pleasure as the spasms of pain travelled through your body. His moves were fast and rough, relentless; nearly automatic like he was a machine and not a human. With each stroke he was hitting a spot inside of you that was making you gasp and writhe underneath him, leaving you a drooling and whimpering mess. Feyd used one of his hands to grab your cheeks and squeeze them gently to shut you up before joining his lips with yours in a sloppy and possessive kiss. You could taste yourself on him and you moaned at the taste – it was sweet indeed from all the hormones you had been injected with. It was no wonder he got addicted already, you would get, too. In fact, you explored his mouth with the tip of your tongue in order to clean it off of your juices completely, greedily licking them away from him as you were letting out muffled moans into his mouth.

His hips were brutal and his mouth was aggressive but you wanted nothing else but this. Hearing the stories about his sexual appetite you had been scared but now you wanted to laugh at your old self. It was nothing to fear, it was something to anticipate.

The fact that the act was forbidden, that he was your husband’s young nephew and a rival of some sort, was making it even better. You were welcoming each of his rough thrusts with eagerness, hoping it would fill your already swollen womb. Your whole body was ready to take the seed and as much as you dreaded the idea of carrying your husband’s son under your heart, you found the idea of carrying Feyd-Rautha’s heir much more appealing. If he would be like his biological father, he’d be handsome and fearsome, psychotic and depraved. You’d see your lover in him – not your husband – and it was giving you satisfaction.

Feyd’s hands dropped to your breasts as he tore the fabric of your dress open to expose them for himself to squeeze and pull on your hard nipples. You broke the kiss and cupped his face to push it down to your neck where you needed his open-mouthed sloppy kisses and soft bites of his black teeth. He obeyed and then he moved his head even lower to give the same treatment to your breasts, occasionally accompanying your moans with his low grunts.

You could feel that your second peak was coming close and you wanted to make him finish, too, so you spoke up in a shaky, hazy voice.

“Fill me up, give me a son,” you pleaded in a raspy whisper. “I want it so bad, I want to swell with your baby.”

Feyd moved his head up once again and joined your lips in another kiss – this time it was messy with teeth clashing and uncontrollable moans as the movement of his hips became less steady. In a few short spasmodic thrusts he spilled his thick black cum inside of your pussy. The feeling of his hard cock filling you deep inside straight into your womb was enough to bring you to your second peak as well.

Once he was definitely finished, he broke the kiss between you two and moved up to slide out of you and hide his cock back into his pants. You whined at the empty feeling and watched him put his shirt back on while breathing heavily, still laying on the floor, exposed with your dress torn up and your hair a mess. Feeling like a whore and absolutely loving it.

“You will go to the medic tomorrow and tell him that he had to be mistaken and the seed had made its way inside of you,” he informed you oh-so-formally.

“You’re so sure of your success?” You asked.

“I am,” he leaned in to look at you. “Don’t worry, I shall still visit you at night whenever you invite me. I’m a dog at your command now,” he admitted shamelessly and you sat up, resting on your elbows to take a better look at him.

That fearsome warrior was completely under your spell and all you had to do was to let him taste your pussy. You laughed at him. He had so many other women, yet it was you who made him this way. You knew why. It was because you were a war prize, because you were from Paradise and because you were an off-world Shehzadi. But most importantly he wanted you because you were his uncle’s Baroness. He craved you to spite him.

“And if I command you to never touch me nor speak to me again? I have already used you for my own gain,” you teased and raised one of your feet to caress his thigh with it.

Feyd angrily grabbed your ankle and looked into your eyes intensely.

“Don’t think I will allow my child to be called his heir and watch myself being tossed aside as my son is remembered as Vladimir Harkonnen’s spawn,” he threatened.

You didn’t answer that, unsure about the meaning of his words. He gave you one last angry gaze and pushed your foot away before walking out of the room as if nothing had just happened.

Of course the medic did not believe your words but he pretended that he had. He couldn’t know that Feyd had told you about the fact that he was working for him so he just played along and informed the Baron that he had been mistaken and you were, in fact, finally pregnant with his son.

You had been hoping that once you’d be pregnant, your husband would leave you alone. But no, how wrong you had been. He was now keeping you around him nearly all the time as if you were a precious cargo. He invited many great leaders for official banquets and showed you off. He would sit you on his lap and keep his huge hand on your swollen abdomen proudly.

But you did not even mind that much – not when you knew that the child was not his. You would often catch Feyd-Rautha’s gaze somewhere in the room and give him a mysterious smile as he would give you a smirk. It was your secret, your revenge on The Baron Harkonnen.

And late at night he would creep inside your room and please you however you wanted him to, only to disappear before the first rays of the black sun would hit you, as if he was only a dream or a ghost. You would recognise his smell now everywhere, though. The feeling of his touch differed so much from others. There was nothing but pure and raw desire bonding you two together and yet, when you watched him in the gladiator arena next to your husband, you feared for his life and you would startle at the sight of his opponents attacking him.

You knew that if something or someone threatened your life, Feyd-Rautha would protect you and he was more physically capable of it than his uncle. You needed him alive to keep you and your son safe.

You admired his body and his strength, the amount of his devotion to you and his little revenge plan. He was magnetic and you almost felt lucky to be chosen by him even though it was you having the upper hand in this relationship.

Some nights he was not coming to you, too busy with other things or perhaps too exhausted after the training. You didn’t mind since your body needed a rest as well, especially now when you were six months pregnant already. That night was one of those lonely nights and you had problems with falling asleep, so when you were woken up abruptly in the early morning by your servants, you didn’t hide your annoyance.

“What is it?” You snapped and rubbed your eyes.

“It’s… It’s The Baron, my Lady,” the girl’s black Harkonnen eyes were widened out of fear.

“What about him?” You yawned and sat up, squinting your eyes at the sun creeping inside through the windows. Another servant was already opening the curtains.

“He… He drowned last night, my Lady,” the girl informed you and you froze.

“What?” You asked, blinking slowly, not sure if it wasn’t a dream. “What are you talking about? What do you mean drowned? My husband is dead?”

“Yes, Baroness… He drowned in his bathtub. My condolences,” she bowed down. “You are awaited by the lords for the council,” she informed you.

You were speechless as you allowed them to dress you up in a humble black dress of mourning. They did your hair up and put a light make up on your face to hide the dark bags underneath your eyes. Your mind was spinning with an endless train of thoughts.

One thing was certain – it had been no accident. It had to be Feyd-Rautha’s doing.

And as much as you were relieved to hear about The Baron’s death since he would never touch nor hurt you ever again… you were scared of what would happen now. There was no way the lords would allow you to rule as the widow. You were an off-world woman who had been married to their Baron as a war prize. You were a pet, nothing more. You only hoped to convince them to let your son be an heir as they call someone else a regent in his name. You couldn’t hope even for the regent title.

You were escorted to the council room by the guards and when you entered it, every man inside went silent. They bowed down and gave you their condolences but their eyes held no sympathy. Feyd-Rautha was not amongst them.

“Thank you, my lords,” you took a seat at the end of the long, black table. “It is a great tragedy but thankfully before his death, my husband has managed to produce an heir,” you brought up the topic immediately as the men looked at each other. “What is it?” You asked.

“The boy is not even born yet, my Lady,” one of the lords spoke up and pointed at Rabban. “If we announce Count Rabban the next Baron… or Feyd-Rautha as the late Baron wanted… Well, then they might produce their own heirs in the future. They are both young and capable.”

You got dizzy at those words and the reactions of other men. They seemed to hum in approval.

“So, I am to be tossed aside?” You asked, angrily. “I am carrying your late Baron’s son and you’re tossing me aside? The child inside me is a rightful heir,” you protested.

“And what would you want?” A different lord asked without even addressing you properly. You realised you had already lost. “Perhaps you want to be The Baroness Regent? Over my dead body I will let a woman – let alone from Pairi Daêza – to command me.”

“Enough!” The doors opened and Feyd-Rautha walked inside with his head held high and a playful smirk on his face. The way he confidently walked and scanned the room with his eyes was enough proof for you to know that it was him who had killed your husband. “The child is not yet born, that is a fair point,” he looked at the lord who had addressed the matter, “therefore at the time of my uncle’s death I was still the Na-Baron,” he added and you gasped softly. You couldn’t believe that he betrayed you. You chewed on the inside of your cheek at the realisation how stupid you had been to think you were playing on the same side.

You had never discussed any details of his plan with him. But you were carrying his son and you hoped he would protect you and the child. Apparently, he only tormented you for his own fun. You wanted to cry. You had lost everything.

Then he looked at you and his face softened a little at the sight of your trembling lip and sad eyes.

“I will wed my uncle’s widow to be my Baroness as the old levirate law says,” he announced and you froze out of shock. Levirate was a law about brothers but you guessed an uncle with such an important title counted as that, too.

“Respecting that law is not expected from you, my Lord Baron,” one of the lords informed him. “You can choose any other bride.”

“I can,” Feyd nodded and stood behind your chair as he rested his hand on your shoulder, “but I will not. I’m choosing Baroness (Y/N) Harkonnen to be my bride,” he announced as the lords looked at each other, as surprised as you were. Out of relief you reached your hand up to hold his and squeeze it in a grateful manner. “I also want to make it known,” Feyd raised his voice and everyone went silent as they looked at him, “that the child she is carrying is mine and not my late uncle’s, therefore her son is my heir.”

Your heart started to pound in your chest. The eyes of the lords were staring at you with such intensity that you were afraid they would make a hole inside of you. You swallowed thickly, knowing perfectly well that you just had to admit to your sins now.

“I confirm,” you nodded and they began to whisper between each other. Feyd’s hand squeezed yours.

“If you do not believe me nor The Baroness, the medic might make a public announcement of the paternity test but I do hope you will not humiliate your Baroness like that,” Feyd told them and they all went silent again.

“N-no, my lord Baron,” one of the lords stood up and bowed down in your direction. “We accept the child as yours and we will let others know.”

“I do not want this matter to be discussed nor questioned,” Feyd stated harshly.

“With all respect, brother,” Rabban spoke up suddenly and you laid your eyes on him, curious about what he was going to say, “the matter that has been discussed and questioned so far was our uncle’s fatherhood. The only thing we have found out today was the identity of the man our Baroness has laid with.”

“Rabban,” Feyd barked at him.

“It is quite alright,” you said. “I am rather relieved that I do not have to lie about it anymore as I am proud to carry Feyd-Rautha’s son under my heart,” you smiled at the lords. Some of them rolled their eyes but they still nodded their heads at you.

“Then it’s settled,” Feyd announced. “Go back to your chambers as we settle the details about my uncle’s funeral and the rest of the upcoming ceremonies, my Lady,” he looked down at you and you nodded. He helped you to stand up and placed a kiss upon the palm of your hand before taking your seat by the table.

You were taken back to your chambers accompanied by the guard as you caressed your womb gently, very content with the outcome of that council.

The excitement made you less tired so you just ordered breakfast. Once you were finishing it, the doors to your bedroom opened and Feyd-Rautha entered your chamber. For the first time by daylight, without making it a secret. You stood up from the table and approached him with a smile before you threw your hands around his neck.

“My darling,” you greeted him. “I have doubted you for a short while this morning, you know that?”

“Have I not told you that I would not allow my son to be remembered as his heir?” Feyd smiled at you and pulled you closer by your hips – as close as he could with your swollen womb between you two.

“But the lords were right. You do not have to marry me. I can give you a son, he can be your heir. There is no need to wed me,” you pointed out.

“Don’t you want it?” Feyd tilted his head.

“I’m asking do you want it,” you pointed out.

“I wanted to marry you a year ago when you came here, after I lifted up that veil. Why would I change my mind?” He put his hand on your abdomen and caressed it possessively. “You were supposed to be mine. You would have been mine if he hadn’t wanted to spite me.”

“Why do you want me?” You asked. “As a Baron you could have anyone. One of the Imperial Princesses even.”

“You’ve got what it takes, my Lady. You’re stubborn and strong. I’ve claimed you, you are mine,” he insisted.

You cupped his face and caressed his cheeks with your fingertips. It was hard to believe that he was yours now. Your husband. You would no longer dread these words.

“I will be a good wife to you, Feyd-Rautha,” you promised, genuinely. You did not want any games nor conflict. “I want only one thing from you.”

“And what is it?” He squinted his eyes at you, curiously.

“Safety,” you pleaded. “Of me and my family.”

“Your family is now my family,” he nodded and you sighed with relief. “I want a few things from you, too,” he added and you bit on your lower lip.

“What is it?” You asked.

“You will share your chambers with me,” he started and you nodded, “you will give me more heirs,” he added and you smiled at that, “and you will never mention him again,” he finished sternly.

“Never mention who?” You asked softly and leaned in to place a gentle kiss upon his lips. “There is only you and I.”

MASTERLIST

#dune imagine #dune fanfic #dune x reader #feyd rautha imagine #feyd rautha fanfic #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen imagine #feyd rautha harkonnen fanfic #lilysfiction #austin butler x reader

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eaterofman · 1 year ago

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Yandere Coworker Harem x New Hire Reader: A Meeting with the CEO

Follow up to this post

Finally fed up with it all, you decide to leave... but you learn it may not be that easy.

Content Warnings: General creepiness, yanderes, financial manipulation, manipulation, power difference, gaslighting

AN: Holy shit the first part blew up, more so than any post I've ever made on tumblr... ever. Thank y'all, and I hope this lives up to everyone's expectations? Had to ignore a few asks since they were essentially the plot to this part, haha.

As nice as Jake is... it starts to wear on you. The seclusion from your other coworkers, Warren and Jax's constant attention, it all becomes too much. This was the easiest money you've ever made, but it almost felt... condescending in a way. Seriously, you feel like you haven't actually worked in months, just given simple tasks to complete so that Jax could praise you. Otherwise, you felt like you were just eye candy set in a pretty office. No more, you figure. You make up your mind to go back to HR, it's been a long time coming. They either fix it, or you're gone.

With your mind made up, you return to Leon. He'd been so kind before, surely he'd help, right? As you explain your problems to him, he nods and gently smiles. In your distress, you don't notice his hand moving to cover yours, massaging yours comfortingly. You welcome the comforting sensation, overwhelmed to the point of not really considering the implications. You look into his dark eyes as you finish, silently pleading with him for help.

"That really is something. I'm sorry to hear your experience with the company has been so distressing. Tell me, do you have any proof?"

His demeanor seems to shift instantly back to the colder man you remember from your first sight of him. His fingers rubbing gentle circles into your palm shift into a harsher grip.

"Proof? I-I mean, the cameras have probably caught something?"

You'd say there were eyewitnesses, but all of your other coworkers had been avoiding you. You barely even knew their names...

"Unfortunately, our cameras have been malfunctioning lately, I doubt they'd catch anything. Without any actual witnesses, I'm afraid I can't do anything for you."

"How can you say that without even looking? This place is insane- you know what? I'm just quitting. I can't take this anymore."

You try to remove your hand but he keeps it there. His gaze is suddenly ice cold. He lets your hand go after a few moments of tension, fingers lingering before you yank your hand to your chest.

"Ah, you could quit... but I'd really recommend against it. You'd of course have to pay the dues you signed in your contract, as well as any additional fees. I'm not in charge of finances, but my estimate would be somewhere around... 200 thousand or so?"

You gasp, blood running cold. 200 thousand?! You don't remember signing that, but you also don't recall really reading over the contract in your excitement. You try to think of a way out, surely there had to be some sort of loophole-

"Of course, there's always the option of asking the CEO to change your contract, but..."

You'd tuned anything after that out, insisting to meet with the CEO as soon as possible. Which, to your surprise, was almost immediately. Almost like he'd been... waiting for you? Leon himself lead you to the CEO's room, at the very top of the skyscraper your office resided in. As you're let in, you're met with the biggest office you'd ever seen. It composed of the entire top floor of the skyscraper, massive windows encircling the entire ornate office.

You really try to ignore the feeling that you're walking into a trap.

The CEO was patiently waiting for you. Like a king on a throne, he sat in the middle of the room in front of a surprisingly simple desk. You'd heard of the CEO, Kennedy Grey, but you'd never met him in person before. He had an air of sophistication around him, an older gentlemen with salt and pepper hair and a well trimmed beard. His suit was pristine and looked expensive, probably costing more than your entire yearly salary. He smiled, urging the two of you to sit. His eyes glanced over to Leon's, a slight smirk on his face as if the two were in on a joke you weren't.

"So, what brings you two here? I've heard very good things about you from Jax. Things are going well, I presume?"

You fidget, despite his welcoming tone, he felt oddly... menacing. Like you weren't supposed to disagree with him, even if he asked you a question. You begin to explain your issues, but are quickly stopped with a firm look of disapproval when you bring up the idea of leaving the company.

"Now now, we can't have that, can we? With your contract, that wouldn't be a very smart idea, would it?"

Before you can even respond, he simply continues to talk over you.

"No, no it wouldn't. And you've just been such a good worker, we'd just hate to lose you."

"Well, I was actually hoping we could talk about the contract, I just don't think it's fair-" you can barely get your thoughts out as he cuts you off again.

"Unfair? But my dear, you signed it. I'd just hate to get my lawyers involved... they're top of the line, y'know? Besides, you don't actually want to leave, you're just... stressed. What do you need, a paid week off? A bonus for your hard work?"

"No-"

"Well, now that that's done, let's get back to work, shall we? You'll have a bonus on your next pay-"

You've had enough of his condescension and interruptions, it's time for you to interrupt him.

"You know what, I'll take the lawsuit. You people are insane. You can have the money if you want, but I'm out of here."

As you get up, you find you can't. Leon has moved behind you, surprisingly strong arms holding your chair in, preventing you from moving. You look up at him in angered confusion, but he's sharing a look with Kennedy. You once again feel like you're missing an important part of an inside joke again. You try to struggle, but you're stopped as Kennedy interrupts.

"Apartment 101, Evergreen Apartments, right?"

"W-wha-"

"You know, I've been venturing into the rental market recently. Very profitable at the moment. I actually just bought a few buildings in your area, including your little apartment. Such a shame, you know you could do better, right? All you have to do is ask..."

He smiles at you as if this was a normal conversation to him, like he was doing you a favor.

"I guess that makes me your landlord now, if you think about it!" his smile turns colder, eyes crinkling like he's laughing at you, "That being said, I just don't see how you're going to pay for the rent increase without this job. I hate to do it, but it's a necessity, y'know? Cost of living and such."

He waves his hand like it's no big deal, like he isn't playing with your livelihood and threatening you.

"You could move out, of course, but well, word gets around, and I just don't know how the other investors in the area would react to your... history."

You feel dread well up in the pit of your stomach and tears in your eyes. He... has you. What could you even do? Moving out of the city would mean starting over, and that's if you could even find a place and a job to pay for said place, and paying for the lawsuit-

In your panic, you can only whimper, "I just... why? Why me? i don't understand-"

"That's the beauty of it all, you don't have to. All you have to worry about is coming in and doing your job. We'll handle all the rest."

You jump, having almost forgotten Leon was behind you in your panic. You go to open your mouth-

"Wonderful insight, Leon. Now that we're all on the same foot, let's get back to work, shall we?"

You can only numbly nod your head, too overwhelmed to continue fighting.

You're finally allowed to sit up and begin walking towards the door, trying to speed walk out of the huge room that somehow managed to feel claustrophobic. You just wanted out at this point, you needed somewhere to think.

As you step into the elevator, Leon staying behind in the office-thank god-you're interrupted one final time.

"Oh, and I meant what I said. If you ever need any assistance, anything at all, just come to me. All you have to do is ask."

#yandere x reader #yandere harem #yandere boss #yandere coworkers #reader insert #reader #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines

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comfortscripts · 4 months ago

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A Glimpse Of What I'd Do For You l Coriolanus Snow

Plot - As the First Lady of Panem, it is your duty to protect your husband. Even if it means dirtying your hands. But what is a little blood when the reward is so sweet? Pairing - Young!President!Coriolanus Snow x Wife!Female!Reader Warnings - Heavy plot + light porn. They are both mad, but sweet for each other. Murder/execution with guns, blood, body worship (??), nipple play, toxic language (??), light aspects of oral (fem receiving), softdom!corio. I fully believe he would be a total simp for someone on his wavelength Word Count - 1,288

Check out the rest of my kinktober fics

“Darling, could I trouble you for a moment?”

Words breaking through the tense atmosphere that Coriolanus has cultivated in his private office. Harsh oak furniture, meticulously organised bookcases, swirls of browns and reds with faint hints of a cool gold. The help liked to say the cold of the room matched Mr. Snow’s frozen heart, but even the ruthless President of Panem couldn’t help the way his shoulders relaxed at his wife’s delicate words.

“You are never a trouble,” he spoke with the push of his sturdy throne-like chair against the floor, punctuating his words. “Come in, my snowdrop.”.

The First Lady of Panem was nothing if not obedient. Perhaps that’s why Coriolanus allowed you into his kingdom after six months of marriage.

Wordlessly, you rounded the desk to perch yourself upon his navy-blue-clad leg and perfectly placed a light kiss against his lips. The kind of kiss that tempted him to become entangled in your sweet web regardless of duties. Piercing blues too busy consuming his prize, thinking of all the ways to corrupt his pretty petal. Not even noticing you slide a sleek silver tablet onto the desk.

“I have a gift for you, Corio.”

A glossy black screen stared back at him with a barely visible play button. Those pale digits broke from your waist to start the show before returning to their previous position. He could feel the shift of your body and took close note of how you were biting back a smile.

Suddenly a face that has haunted his dreams appeared: Lucy Gray Baird. Coriolanus could feel the bile rising in his throat at the sight of that traitor. Despite the fact she was strapped to a chair with thick masking tape covering her sickening mouth, he felt uneasy.

“What is this?”

“Freedom. Keep watching, my love.”

The tense grasp on your waist must have been aching, almost as if he was punishing you for showing him this she-devil. But it was soon alleviated as he saw your graceful figure walk into the cell of Lucy Gray. Stark white gown, as pure as snow, standing there inches away from her. Stoic guards either side of your regal stance, part of Coriolanus compared your image to the Queen being flanked by knights on his chessboard staring down a lowly pawn.

“Firstly, I'd like to say thank you, Lucy Gray. If you hadn’t betrayed the only good thing in your life, I wouldn’t have my darling husband. Truly, I appreciate it.”

This wasn’t his snowdrop. Never had he heard your voice that dominant and cold. Part of him preened at the words being spoken, yet he feared what was to come. Who had he married?

“You were very difficult to track down. See, originally, I wanted you gone because I knew he loved you, and I don’t like sharing. But then I found out that you wanted to destroy him. Drive him insane with your silly little tweety songs. And, well, no one can drive him crazy except me.”

Just as his mind caught up with the intentions of your words, a glistening of his father’s legendary pistol came into focus. Pointed between the eyes of the witch who once trapped his heart.

“Goodbye Lucy Gray. No one will remember you, and the Snow family will live forever.”

The bang of the bullet felt like an earthquake, but the image of you, his innocent little petal, with blood seeping into your porcelain dress was enough to silence all thoughts. Screen fading to black as the guards moved to remove the body.

“Did you like my gift?”

It was so small, as if you had made him a cake and were afraid that you’d added too little sugar. This was the wife he knew, and the wife he was growing to love. He always knew you were perfect; that is why he agreed to his marriage, but this was more than he could ask for.

He craved loyalty, obsession, ruthlessness, and compliance. You were everything he would ever need, wrapped in a pink bow. Finally, an equal, someone to love him the way he wished to be loved. Coriolanus would get rid of anyone you wished, and to know he has your devotion makes him feel invincible.

“It may be the best present anyone has ever given me. Let me thank you for it properly.”

Spider-like touches tingled down your spine before feeling the cool air prick your skin as Corio relieved the zip of its job, allowing your dress to pool in your lap. Three abrupt taps on the desk said everything, and within moments, you settled your bare body against the chill of the wood. There was nothing better than feeling his eyes map your body with such hunger. Swirls of lust flush through his eyes as he lightly runs his long digits over the exposed skin.

“Who knew my sweetheart could be so fierce? Those hands weren’t made for killing; they are far too pretty. And who would have expected those callous words to come from such beautiful lips? But you did it for me. Everything you do is for me.”

Standing to attention, he traced the expanse of your collarbone with featherlight touches. Eyes wide watching him in anticipation, every touch made your arousal swell. Never would you rush him; he ruled Panem and your heart. He was your purpose. He was yours. Coriolanus intoxicated you. Faint scents of leather and brandy washed over your senses; the heat of his body against your as he placed calculated kisses against your skin made you dizzy. With so little, he made you feel so much.

A gentle moan fell from your lips as the young president found his mouth on your taunt nipple, carefully flicking the tip with his talented tongue. Oh, how you wish that scandalous mouth was somewhere else right now. His appreciation was felt full force. Those large hands groped at your skin as if he were trying to consume you. Leaving a litter of marks and nips across your chest, as if he were an artist and you, his canvas.

“I would do anything for you, my dear. You gave me freedom from that whore, and all I can think about is how lucky I am to have your love. You are my only obsession. So tell me. Name it, and it is yours.”

A sense of shock washes over you; he has never once asked what you wanted in the bedroom. As with many things in his life, Coriolanus was not open to advice or direction. Images flashed of what you wanted but your tongue tangled as you went to voice it. So caught in the moment, it felt impossible to string a coherent sentence.

“I want- I want you.”

“Be specific, my snowdrop.”

He knew what you wanted. Sinking to the floor as one arm curls around the thickness of your thigh, pulling you closer to his body. That smile told you that he knew, he always knows. Coriolanus wanted to see whether your boldness extended past the video.

“Tell me, Mrs. Snow, how can I please you? You have pleased me so, and I want to show my appreciation, so tell me. Now.”

The feeling of his breath against the wet patch growing on your panties sent a shiver down your spine, feeding the need for his mouth on you. You needed him carnally. Hands wrapped in those icy locks, pale fingers curling inside, and him acting as if he were a man starved.

“I need your mouth- your fingers. Please Corio. Thank me with your mouth. Worship my pussy with those fingers, please, my love.”

Fingers hooking the corners of your underwear, gently discarding the elegant lace. Stormy blues and a haunting smirk told you that he'd be thanking you for hours to come.

“As you wish, my love. I am yours to use, as you are mine.”

A King is only as good as his Queen.

#kinktober 2024 #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth smut #corio snow #kinktober

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eggtargaryenii · 3 months ago

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EAST OF THE SUN | PART II

You were a disgrace to House Targaryen, the product of an impulsive wedding between a lost prince and some Essosi whore. You had little social capital within the Red Keep and few prospects for marriage, but that was alright. You were perfectly happy to stay out of the game of thrones, wed some politically relevant lord of Alicent Hightower’s choosing, and die in peaceful obscurity. Unfortunately for you, Prince Aemond had other designs for your future.

11.1k words, aemond x fem!reader x jacaerys. childhood friends to lovers (except it's cousins), political drama. chapter warnings for targaryen incest and themes of xenophobia/racism and misogyny. see part I for full story details. dividers from @/cafekitsune.

V. STRENGTH

Jacaerys was a child when he found out that he was a bastard and his mother was a whore.

Bastard. Whore. Even before he understood those words, he knew that he was different, somehow. That he was not enough. The lords and the ladies in the Red Keep always stared at him and Luke when they walked by, clinging to their mother’s skirts. They whispered whenever Ser Harwin Strong spent his afternoons with them in the training yard, putting wooden swords into their tiny little hands and teaching them how to swing. They covered their mouths to hide their laughter whenever his father, Ser Laenor Velaryon, took Jace out riding, steadying him on his pony. Pay them no mind, Jace, his father always said. They're only staring at you because you will someday be king.

So Jace closed his ears and focused only on Mother, Father, Ser Harwin, and Luke.

But the older he got, the harder it was to ignore the whispers. Bastard. Mongrel. Son of a whore. A wonder that his dragon egg even hatched. I've never seen any Velaryon who looked like that. He don't look like no Targaryen prince, methinks. Look at that hair. Look at those eyes. He can only be a bastard.

He can only be a Strong.

It wasn't all bad in his family, at least. Queen Alicent always looked at him with contempt, but his grandsire kept her from saying anything. Sometimes his uncle Aegon would bully him about it, but then he would leave Jace alone whenever he was teasing Aemond instead, so all Jace had to do was join him in making fun of the scrawny boy. And whenever Aegon and Aemond teamed up to point out Jace’s bastardy, you would stop both of them. You would gently scold Aemond and that would make him quiet, but with Aegon you would throw things instead. (Oops, you said once, after dropping the Seven-Pointed Star on Aegon’s foot. Sorry, my hand slipped. I'm afraid that book burns my heathen fingers.)

You always defended Jace like that.

Jace’s mother was a whore, and he later learned that yours was too. Maybe that's why you were so nice to Jace, even though the lords and ladies of the Red Keep scorned you worse than they ever did him. To Jace’s wonder though, you never seemed bothered by it.

It doesn't matter who our parents are, Jacaerys, you told him once. We’ve got dragons. We’re Targaryens. So long as we play our cards right, no one can ever touch us.

But what if my blood isn't enough? he would mumble. What if Vermax doesn't let me claim him? What if I cannot fly? He did not have silver hair and pale eyes, the features of a Valyrian king. Perhaps his bastardy and Andal blood made him less of a Targaryen. Could a mongrel tame a dragon? Could a bastard sit the throne?

Could a Strong ever take to the skies?

You smiled at him whenever he asked. You can do all of those things, Jace. I promise. I can't help you with most of them—but at the very least, I can help you learn to fly.

So he found himself on your dragon, seated behind you, his hands tight around your waist. I've never seen Wildfyre so happy to have someone ride him, you laughed. Not even me!

The dragon clicked and grumbled and turned his head to look at Jace, golden eyes approving. Then Wildfyre’s great wings started flapping, his roar thundering through the skies, and suddenly Jace found himself rising higher and higher, the muscles of the great creature rippling beneath him. King’s Landing was getting further away, shrinking; the clouds were getting closer, and Jace felt a chill as the cold damp of them soaked into his clothes. A freezing wind whipped through his hair, felt like ice to his bones, but he screamed and screamed with laughter, heart dancing as he clung to you.

Once you'd steered Wildfyre through the clouds, drifting into the warm twilight, you turned back and threw him a smile.

See? you yelled. Only a Targaryen could be so fearless on dragonback!

Fearless, you called him. He clung to this word: Fearless. I must be fearless. I must not fear my duty. I must not fear the succession. I must not fear the court.

In truth, though, Jace was afraid. He was afraid of being a bastard and he was afraid of losing the Throne, of ruining his mother’s claim. But you were so good at dispelling it all. You were so good at making him brave.

So when his family was sent to Dragonstone indefinitely, he nearly wanted to throw up—because it meant he could no longer see you. He sought you out soon after the decision was made, nearly running through all of Driftmark’s grounds before going to the Queen’s rooms, where he knew you would be.

He found you by Aemond’s bedside, talking to the injured child as he slept. Your fingers threaded through his silver hair; you whispered Valyrian into his ears, soothing and pretty and soft. Jace wished he could understand it, but his mother never spoke it around them. Ser Harwin, being an Andal, only knew the Common Tongue, and so that was the language that Jacaerys had inherited instead the language spoken by kings.

Jace begged to you in his lowly, mongrel tongue, ugly and stiff unlike the melody of Valyrian: “Come with us, please. I know you'll like Dragonstone. No one will stare at us there, no one will whisper. You'll be happier for it.”

He was not surprised when you said no. There was no way you would ever leave Aemond, but he asked anyway, again and again.

“I can't do this alone,” he kept saying. “I need your help. I don't know how to be strong like you. How to be fire and blood.”

You smiled at him. Stepped away from Aemond’s bedside, then took his hands in yours.

“You need not worry, Jace. Your mother will guide you.” Your fingers were so gentle on his. “You will grow into a fine prince, an heir befitting the Iron Throne. And when you do, you can come back to the Red Keep—and you can take me to Dragonstone then.”

Jace tried very hard not to cry. Ser Harwin had made a promise like this before he left his mother—that he would reunite with Jace someday, that he would stay by his side then. But he had never come back, had been taken by the fire at Harrenhal, and then Jace found himself mourning a man whom he was not allowed to grieve—because Jace was not allowed to be a bastard, and so Ser Harwin was not allowed to be his true father.

But he did grieve. He hated losing Ser Harwin, and he could not bear the thought of losing you too.

“You’re not lying?” Jace asked. “You're telling truth?”

He knew it was a childish thing to ask, but you seemed not to mind. You only threw your head back, laughed. “Yes, I'm telling truth! It is my dream to get away from the Red Keep someday, Jace.” You looked at him, almost amused. “I’m counting on you to save me from the Hightowers, my prince.”

And Jace could not help but think, as you departed for King’s Landing and he for Dragonstone, how much he longed to do that. How badly he wanted to take you away from the place that called you both the children of sin, from the people that called him a bastard and you a whore. He wished he could have sworn it as an oath, for then you would know how seriously he would take it.

I will become a fine prince someday, he vowed privately, watching your ship grow smaller and smaller, then finally as it was swallowed by the mist. I will become an heir befitting the throne. I am a Targaryen, made of fire and blood. I am a Targaryen, no matter who my father was.

He woke up everyday and repeated those words like a mantra. Tried not to think about the possibility of failure—tried not to wonder if the lords and ladies of the Realm would revolt should he ever sit upon the throne. If the throne itself would reject a bastard, its edges cutting into his mongrel flesh. It was a solace that he heard you every time he questioned himself: It doesn't matter who our parents are, Jace. Only a Targaryen could be so fearless in the sky. You have a dragon. You have a dragon. You have a dragon.

He had a dragon.

“I have you, Vermax,” he would murmur to the creature in his clumsy Valyrian, and Vermax would rumble at him, reassuring.

The years passed. You exchanged letters with Jace, kept in touch, but the distance felt like a yawning cavern between you still. The older he got, the less certain he became that you ever thought about him the way he thought about you. After all, he was a child when you left; you were nearly a woman grown. Thinking back on it, you had obviously treated him like a child too, holding his hands and trying to soothe his fears with empty words.

Grow up, Jace, he told himself, every time he received a raven and found your letter shorter than the last. Forget about it.

And he did, for a while. He focused on his studies, his swordplay, his duty to the Realm. Several name days passed, and suddenly he was a man grown. His mother was speaking to him of potential betrothals, of Starks and Tyrells and the noble daughters of other great houses. His stepfather was telling him to see the whores in Spicetown since he refused to disgrace any of the servants, and their silks and perfumes were dizzyingly fragrant as he bedded them. The serving maids of Dragonstone and all the distinguished ladies who visited laughed and smiled pretty around him, fawning over his status—for even if he was a mongrel bastard, he was still a Crown Prince.

Jace found himself utterly disinterested in all of it.

Curiously, in some of those moments, he would suddenly think about your letters—shorter and shorter, fewer and far between, but coming still. Hello, cousin. How fare your studies? I find myself the object of whispers once more; what an exciting life people think I must lead. Last month I was leading Ser Criston astray and making him break his oath of celibacy; this month I am carrying Prince Aemond’s child. I wonder whom I will seduce with my temptress ways next month. Perhaps it will be Septa Falyse, or the High Septon himself!

Jace could hear your laughter in your words: carefree, lighthearted, just as you always were when it came to your reputation. But it left a bitter taste in his mouth, thinking of all those rumours, of all those people speaking ill of you. Of knowing he could not return the favour of defending you as you once did him, now that the sea separated the two of you.

The whispers, though, were not something a Crown Prince should be worrying about, and you were not someone an Heir should be thinking about.

Grow up, Jace, he kept telling himself. Forget about it. Forget about it. Forget about it.

But when the day came that he finally had to return to the Red Keep—he could no longer forget.

As he boarded a ship to King’s Landing for the first time in years, he found himself remembering the words you once spoke to him when he was a child—the ones he clung to for years. They felt so fitting now that he’d learned of the Hightowers’ designs for you, of what the Hand intended to do.

You will be a fine prince someday, you'd said. Take me to Dragonstone then. Save me from the Hightowers, my prince.

He would see you again, Jace thought. And if you so much as breathed the word, he would do everything that you asked of him all those years ago: steal you away from the Red Keep, protect you from the petty court that so often mistreated you, give you immunity from the family that spurned you both. Because now that he was a proper prince—a Targaryen, black hair be damned—that was something he could do.

He could save you from the Hightowers.

VI. JUDGEMENT, REVERSED

The coming of Princess Rhaenyra and her party was met without announcement, nor fanfare.

Were it not for Jacaerys’ letter to you, you would not have even known that they were going to be in King’s Landing. The tourney was coming up soon—less than a fortnight now—but their presence had nothing to do with it. Supposedly, Prince Daemon had some urgent business to discuss with the King and the rest of House Targaryen. Even Princess Rhaenys had joined them. What would be important enough for the Lady of Driftmark to leave her home was a mystery to you.

Until such matters made themselves clear, however, you would not worry over them. You were only thinking of meeting Jacaerys again. Although you'd received many messages from your first cousin over the years (his preferred raven now knew you well enough to squawk your name), letters were simply not the same as seeing one in person.

And of course it was impossible to see Jace in person. Queen Alicent became oddly bitter every time you requested leave to visit Dragonstone, and Wildfyre was always mysteriously chained up after such conversations. Aemond, as well, despised his half-siblings too much to meet with them during any of your visits to Spicetown, and he never let you go there yourself either.

You are a young woman, and it would be unsafe for you to venture out alone, Aemond always said. If you must go to Spicetown, I will accompany you and guard you from any… unsavoury characters that you may meet.

You had the sense that he was referring more to his nephews than any bandits or rapers, for it seemed not enough to him for guards from Dragonstone to be sent to accompany you.

You looked forward to seeing Jace again, unfettered by neither Aemond nor the Queen. You wondered what the awkward and insecure little prince was like nowadays, what sort of person he'd become. But as you had not heard any word of Rhaenyra’s arrival, you did not go to receive him at the gates—so you spent the day like you would any other. You broke your fast alone, neglected your needlework, neglected your prayers, and resentfully studied household stewardship. You loitered in the throne room, watching the Hand and the Queen settle various petitions. Today, it was mostly smallfolk worried about the price of food, a couple of petty land disputes between minor houses, and an interesting request from House Tyrell to legitimise a bastard—some knight who had served in the Dornish Marches. For some reason, Ser Criston kept looking at him with disdain.

Then, as a reward to yourself for your hard labour, you went down to the training yard in the late afternoon.

Your favourite pastime was watching Aemond practise his swordplay in the afternoons. You used to go for moral support, to encourage him whenever he was beaten—which he always was, because of his previously short and scrawny stature—but now it was always to encourage him whenever he clobbered his opponents, for he always did.

Ser Criston used to scold you for your attendance, saying that a young lady should busy herself with other activities. “You should be studying the Seven-Pointed Star right now, my lady,” he once said, probably at the behest of the Queen. “The violence of the training ground is not something that a woman should be witnessing so often in any case. Bloodshed is usually upsetting for the fairer sex.”

“I know not what you are talking about, Ser Criston,” you replied. You clapped Aemond’s shoulder then—drawing murmurs from onlookers, because hand-to-shoulder contact between cousins was scandalous if you were the one initiating it—and added, “there is nothing more important to me than witnessing Prince Aemond’s improvement on the battleground.”

Ser Criston gave you both questioning looks. “And why would it be so important to you, my lady?”

“Well,” you replied cheerfully, “Aemond and I have an agreement that if ever I am charged with murder, I will prove my innocence via trial by combat and he would be my champion.”

Ser Cole gave you an incredulous look. “Do you plan to commit murder, my lady?”

“No, Ser. It is merely a contingency in case someone should frame me for it. You never know what might happen with all the plotting and scheming in this Realm.”

You were actually speaking truth here: you and Aemond did come to this agreement soon after Prince Daemon Targaryen was taken to trial for the murder of his first wife, which he won by combat. You then went into an anxious spiral about what you should do if you hated your future husband and he was stupid enough to fall off a horse and die like Rhea Royce. Who would save you from a similar accusation?

Aemond immediately volunteered himself, perhaps too eagerly.

“You need not worry about me, Ser Cole,” you said upon seeing his perturbed face. “I wouldn't actually ever commit murder myself. You would know, since Aemond would prove my innocence.”

Aemond’s lip curled. “She would never be found guilty of any crime in the Realm with me as her champion,” he affirmed. “I think it is fair that the lady should be allowed to watch the sword representing her, is it not?”

Ser Criston could hardly deny a royal prince, so he merely sighed and picked up his morning star. “Whatever my prince wishes,” he relented. “Come—let’s give your lady a show.”

The knight had not since protested your presence on the training grounds. Ser Criston hardly even glanced at you today as you approached, weaving through the sparse crowd of knights, squires, and spectators while he and Aemond began their warmups. You were searching for a spot that would serve as the best view of their match, and it was pure accident that your gaze happened to land on an unfamiliar form among the hustle and bustle.

It was not the clothes that struck you—for they were plain, a nondescript black cloak over an equally dark tunic—but his face. Dark curls framing finely carved, fair features. An aquiline nose, a pair of delicate lips curled into an interested smile as he spoke to some companion you could not see. He looked like a Northman, possibly a Stark or an exceptionally beautiful Blackwood. You wondered if he was one of your potential suitors.

Naturally, you had to go introduce yourself. Purely to show your hospitality as a lady of House Targaryen, of course.

“Excuse me,” you said, in the clearest and prettiest voice you could manage. “Pardon me for the interruption, Ser, but I don't believe we’ve ever met.”

The stranger turned to you, his expression quizzical, but reflecting pleasant surprise. As soon as he laid eyes on you, his brows lifted—and a brief silence passed as you took in each other’s appearances.

You were only certain once you saw the three-headed dragon brooch on his cloak.

“Cousin?” the two of you asked simultaneously.

“Seven hells, Jace, I didn't recognise you at all!” you blurted out. You then glanced at his companion for the first time. Sure enough, it was his little brother—still young, but certainly not the small child you remember. “Luke! Gods, you've grown up too! I had no idea you’d arrived!”

Jacaerys made an irritated expression that was comically familiar despite his comically unfamiliar face. “The reception to our arrival was… subdued. Not etiquette to the standard that I would have expected of the Red Keep.”

“Ah. A folly of the Queen, I'm sure.” You smiled at them both. “Forget about her. I'll give you a proper welcome after this match—take you around the old haunts and whatnot. Wildfyre will want to say hi, too.”

“Match?” Jacaerys asked, but he was quickly answered by the violent clang of steel against steel.

Jace’s noble countenance dissipated as he moved into the crowd, beckoning Luke to follow. An excited grin spread across his face as he watched the two figures sparring furiously—as if he were again a child, spectating as Ser Harwin or the other knights of the Kingsguard fought with one another. Ser Criston and Prince Aemond were in another league altogether, of course—perhaps not in skill, but in savagery. They moved viciously and lethally, not bothering to hold back. The swing of Criston's morning star carried brutal weight, but Aemond was himself a lithe weapon, his body honed for the sole purpose of killing. You were unsurprised when his blade ended up pressed against Ser Criston’s throat.

“You'll be sure to win the tourney next week, my Prince,” said Ser Criston, but Aemond did not smile.

“I don't give a shit about tourneys,” he said, and you had to hold back a snort. Perhaps not when he was younger, but he absolutely did give a shit about tourneys nowadays. Not the pageantry or the petty social trappings, of course—but the reputation. Prince Aemond would be loath to seem craven or weak before the knights of the realm, and so he had no choice but to sign up for every tourney in King's Landing and crush every opponent he met.

Your amusement wore off when you noticed Jace and Luke beside you—how tense they'd gotten, how Luke was inching behind Jace. You could not blame them. Aemond had never forgiven Luke for taking his eye, no matter how many times you counselled him to lay it aside lest his rage drive him to madness. It chilled you how he spoke of Lucerys when reminded of it.

Even now, you discerned a subtle anger in Aemond’s body—tightly controlled, but there nevertheless—as he approached.

“Nephews,” he said, “have you come to train?”

Not even a greeting, you thought. Well, he does take after his mother in some ways.

“I'm afraid we’re only here to visit today,” Jace said, and you were surprised at the clean but sharp edge to his words. You did not know he could sound so much like a prince. “We must first attend to urgent matters before we’ll have any time for leisure.”

“I wasn't aware that the Crown Prince would consider swordplay a leisurely activity,” Aemond remarked. “Those princes who are truly of fire and blood, at the very least, do not.”

Fucking hell. Not even two minutes and the bastardy talk had already started. There was fury in Jacaerys’ eyes, and you stepped in before Aemond could fuel it.

“Jacaerys must be one of the few men of fire and blood who are also capable of diplomacy,” you said dryly, “as I know you are, Aemond, when you wish it.”

Aemond gave you a careful look, seeming more amused than anything else. “I wish it when my lady does.”

You smiled, placated. “I always like diplomacy. Hospitality, too. I'll be showing Jacaerys and Lucerys around before our family meets tonight—you are free to join if you wish.”

From the way the two brothers tensed, it was obvious that Aemond was absolutely not free to join. Your cousin had the grace to decline: “Thank you for the invitation, my lady, but I will give you the space to host them. You are better suited for it than me.” He glanced at Jacaerys, and said, “Do make sure you return her to me before it gets too late. I would worry about my cousin if she were out after curfew.”

Jace gave him a look that was as curious as yours.

“You need not worry. You know I would not let any harm come to our cousin.”

Aemond hummed, giving you a meaningful glance that you completely did not understand. “I’ll look for you at dinner.”

“I’ll be… sure to find you?” you replied with uncertainty, still reeling from his words. Return her to me. Aemond left before you could ask him his intent behind the phrase—because he always spoke with intent.

Jacaerys, himself, also seemed confused. “I didn't know my uncle was courting you,” he said, and you gave him a startled, bug-eyed look.

“He isn't,” you said quickly. “Queen Alicent would sooner die than let me besmirch the reputation and honour of her son.”

The elder prince frowned. “He was certainly acting like it, getting all possessive.”

“I suppose Aemond never liked it whenever we spent time with you,” Lucerys observed, looking somewhat anxious.

“He didn’t,” you now remembered. “Don't feel too bad, Luke. He was always like that even before he lost his eye to you.” Aemond loved to monopolise your time as a child and grew sullen whenever someone else had your attention—as if you were being wrongfully taken away from him and would never be returned. Sometimes you felt like a toy being fought over, tearing at the seams. “I guess he never grew out of it.”

“Childish of him,” Jace observed, watching his uncle’s back as he readied himself for another match. “Makes me inclined to take up all of your time tonight.”

You snorted. “That’s childish of you, too. Come on, let's go—at least catch up with me before you and your uncle maim each other.”

“I wouldn't do that to him,” Jace protested.

“I know. It was only a jest,” you reassured him. But an uneasy pit grew in your stomach as you thought of the way Aemond carried himself just now—how none of that lethal violence left his body as he approached his nephews.

It struck you then that you weren't so sure if the reverse was true.

VI. THE SUN

When you were alone with Jacaerys, his presence felt oddly familiar.

It was unusual, given that the prince was so different now. He had grown, and you had expected things to be strange and stiff between the two of you, but the conversation came easily once Luke departed. Jace’s laugh was the same as you remembered. His smile was the same. He rode on dragonback with you, his arms firm around your waist and his front pressed tightly against your back, and—

—that didn't feel the same, actually. You tried not to think about how he felt against you, how he had obviously grown lean and hard with muscle. It made your stomach flutter in a way that felt suspiciously similar to your reaction to first seeing Cregan Stark at court. You concentrated on the memory of the awkward, insecure boy with whom you had grown up, whom you could have never fathomed attraction to. Jace was the heir to the throne—you absolutely could not consider him desirable.

Also, if your stomach kept twisting like that, you would surely steer your dragon wrong and make all three of you crash.

Wildfyre, at least, did not see him any differently; he allowed Jace to ride him without complaint, and once you all landed outside the Kingswood, he kept clicking and prodding at your cousin with his massive snout, making the prince chuckle.

“I think he missed me,” he said.

“I’m not surprised. You were his favourite.” You glared at your dragon. “Traitor,” you groused in Valyrian, and Wildfyre snorted in response. You sighed. “Look at that attitude!”

“I think he's quite lovely,” Jacaerys said, voice smug. Wildfire crooned, as if in agreement, and snaked his long neck around Jace’s back, rubbing against him like a cat. You gave them both a dirty look.

“Sometimes I think you claimed him behind my back,” you complained, even though you could feel the bond between yourself and Wildfyre, warm and alive like a shared heartbeat. It had been present since the day you were born, as if it had formed while you were still in the womb. Still, there was a period of time before your official claim where Wildfyre adored Jace so much that you were convinced he would abandon you.

“You know that's not true. He's like a puppy around you.” Jace patted Wildfyre’s snout fondly, and the great old lizard chuffed like a dog. You saw the resemblance. “Vermax hatched in my cradle and he’s not nearly so affectionate with me.”

“Vermax is a sweetheart.”

“To you.” The corner of Jacaerys’ mouth lifted. “Remember how he nearly roasted Aegon the one time? And he never let Aemond near him, either.”

“Dragons are influenced by the feelings of their riders,” you pointed out dryly. “Vermax only detested them because you did.”

“Perhaps.” Jace scratched Wildfyre, fingers scraping against glimmering, emerald scales. The spoiled creature rumbled in a way that nearly sounded like a purr. “Are you saying that you’re as fond of me as Wildfyre is, then?”

Your mouth opened, then closed. You were glad that the two of you were alone and outside of the city. If anyone overheard you, or glimpsed your reaction, your reputation would have just been shattered forever. Worse yet, Jacaerys’ amused smile looked terribly handsome to you at that moment. You could not help but think, Well, I wouldn’t mind being pet by you either.

“I suppose your company is tolerable,” you said lamely.

Jace, of course, was not at all fooled. He turned to Wildfyre and said, in what you guessed was meant to be the Valyrian language, “We both know better, don't we?”

Wildfyre clicked in agreement, but your own reaction was not nearly so kind.

“My god, Jace,” you said, wincing. “Was that supposed to be Valyrian?”

He grimaced. “Was it that bad?”

“Terrible. What on earth is your mother teaching you? She's so fluent.”

“She never spoke Valyrian around us when we were children,” he explained, “so I never picked it up. Mostly, I learn from the maesters.”

“The maesters?” you repeated, appalled. You slipped into your native tongue, the timbre indignant: “No wonder you speak so poorly. You can't learn properly from maesters. You need to learn from someone who lives and breathes in the language!”

“There aren't many people in Westeros who do,” Jace replied in the Common Tongue. The two of you began to volley: Jacaerys in the language of Westeros, and you in the language of the old Freehold.

“Move back to the Red Keep. I'll teach you.”

“You’ve tried already. You were a poor tutor, remember?”

“You were a poor student.”

“That doesn’t change your own abilities. Could you even explain any basic grammar to me right now?”

“...you don't need to know grammar to talk.”

“No, but you need it to learn.”

“If I talk at you enough, you’ll pick it up eventually.” You gave him a mournful look, then tested his ear for your mother tongue: “However you do it, you should make more of an effort, Jace. You are a Targaryen, and a dragonlord besides. Valyrian is the language of your forefathers. How can you not know it?”

Jacaerys went quiet. “You know I have always tried,” he said, “to live up to my heritage as best as I can. I have neither Targaryen nor Velaryon features. People look at me and they see an Andal…”—he hesitated—“that is, they see a Strong. I have to show them I am more than that.”

Guilt gnawed at you. “Then I'll help you,” you said gently, in the Common Tongue this time. “Though truthfully, neither the language you speak nor the colour of your hair changes your blood.”

“Only you and Mother have ever thought so.” He looked away. “Apparently people used to think that my dragon egg wouldn't even hatch.”

You put a hand on his shoulder. “Yet it did, and every unbonded dragon responds to you. Vermax and Wildfyre can both attest to your claim and heritage.” You gave him a reassuring look. “Anyway, cheer up. You have more talent at the language than Aegon, silver hair be damned. His Valyrian is shit awful.”

Jace laughed. “Is it really so bad?”

“You’ll see during the meeting tonight. Aemond and I will force some Valyrian out of him—look forward to it.”

His smile faded. “I need to talk to you about that. The meeting, I mean.”

You made a face. “You know I don't want to speak of politics right now, Jacaerys. I'd rather talk about literally anything else, in fact.”

“It would be unwise to do so.”

“I live every day trying to be wise in matters of the court. Please let me be unrepentantly a fool for once.”

Jace gave you a sorry look. “Could I spend the rest of the day in leisure with you, I would. But it would be a disservice to you not to tell you, cousin. It is why I asked for time alone with you in the first place.”

“You wound me, Jace. I thought you asked it for you missed me.”

“Cousin.”

“Alright, alright. Let’s hear it.”

He breathed deeply. “There will be an announcement, one that involves you. In truth, the Hand said to keep the matter quiet until we could meet as a group, but I didn't think it was right, and neither did my mother. The Hightowers are trying to hide from you what Prince Daemon discovered.”

You gave him a curious look.

“What did he discover, then?”

VII. DEATH

The world felt so distant.

The Targaryens were seated around the Small Council table. King Viserys was absent, his mind addled with milk of poppy, so the Hand sat in his seat while his daughter stood at his side. As if in interrogation, you were at the other end of the table—the object of everyone’s scrutiny—clad in a neutral blue.

It was a powerplay. Jacaerys had predicted that the Hightowers would do it, and he tried to help you prepare. You had planned together what you should say, but the Stranger had stolen your words, your focus, your wits. Otto Hightower spoke and his voice sounded far away, as if your ears were stuffed with cotton. Your heavy breath and pounding heartbeat drowned out all other noise, thrumming alongside your bond with Wildfyre. It was singing with a pain to match your own, for the feelings of a dragon are always influenced by their rider—and he, too, had loved your father.

Otto kept speaking. You did not know why he was even here, really, nor Queen Alicent. Princess Rhaenys sat to your left without Lord Corlys, because this was a Targaryen matter—a grief shared only by those of fire and blood. The Hightowers were outsiders.

“...we must allow ourselves time to grieve your father,” the Hand said, “but the matter of his inheritance should be quickly settled.”

“What?” you asked, voice faint. This is what Jace said would happen, you thought. I should not be surprised.

But here you were—speechless, stupid.

The Princesses Rhaenys and Rhaenyra bristled. Prince Daemon, who sat on your right, openly scoffed. Helaena looked down, and even Aegon had the grace to keep his eyes on the table. He was feckless, a lecher, and he always quarrelled with you—but he was not cruel. He was not cut from the same cloth as his grandsire.

Even he disapproved.

Jacaerys was next to you, standing tall like a sentinel. Aemond watched from across the room, near his mother, in a shade of green so dull that it was nearly black—but green nevertheless.

Why was he not beside you instead?

“Please,” you managed to say, voice quiet. “I would like to hear the news from Prince Daemon himself.”

“As you should. This was not news that should have been delivered by a Hightower.” The Rogue Prince did not bother to hide his derision. “I was treating with the lords in Pentos, and they brought to my attention news of your father’s ship—the one that disappeared when he sailed for Lys. It came to light recently that pirates and sellswords accosted it. They sacked the ship, sank it. Then they took your father for ransom, but apparently he died not too long after from his wounds. Here is the proof.”

And sure enough, he laid before you what was unmistakably your father’s sword. It had been presented to him by the Lyseni while he was being hosted by the First Magister: a weapon from the former Valyrian colonies of Essos. Your mother had been by his side when he received it. In Westeros, she had been considered a common whore, but in Lys, she had been his beloved concubine—yes, a former bed slave, but respected nevertheless. She had thrived in the Lysene court.

You took the blade into your hands, unsheathed it halfway. It was pure Valyrian steel: ancient ore folded many times over, otherworldly hues rippling in daylight. Unlike the Valyrian swords kept by the Westerosi houses, this one had a name carved into it by a Qohori smith: Siglitanor. A word borrowed from Lysene Valyrian, a name chosen by your mother. The letters were as red as the Qartheen jewels encrusted into the guard, which was fashioned with Volantene elegance.

It was, through and through, a sword of Essosi antiquity.

For nearly ten years, you imagined that your father was somewhere in Lys, carrying this sword and speaking its language every morning, every night. Avy jorrāelan. Avy raqan. Ñuha ābrazȳrys. He would whisper these words into your mother’s ear in a courtyard somewhere, their plates filled with persimmons and mangoes and peace. He went to Lys and loved her too much to return. Yes, he abandoned you, but it was to take care of your mother, who deserved nothing less.

And now—now, this sunlit vision was turning to dust before you.

“Your Pentoshi friends—who told them this news?”

“Myrish sellswords who drank too much and bragged of their exploits. The Pentoshi thought I would like to know of their crimes against the Iron Throne and brought them before me. They're being held on Dragonstone now.” Daemon, for a moment, seemed reflective, and the sharp edge of his words softened slightly. “Your father was a skilled diplomat. It was his work that kept the Triarchy in line for so long. He died, and they soon after turned on us—and everyone else in the Narrow Sea. Pentos felt the loss of him as much as we did.”

“Yes, your father was quite the man,” the Hand agreed. “He was also skilled with his coin. He amassed great wealth in the Iron Bank, all profit from the Narrow Sea and the Free Cities. The Iron Bank was never forthcoming with information until now—they thought him alive and kept this from us—”

The coin is mine, Jacaerys coached you to say. It is my inheritance. I will go to Braavos myself and oversee the wealth. By the laws of the Realm, a daughter should inherit her father’s lands and wealth in the absence of a son.

“What happened to my mother?” you whispered instead, still staring at the sword. It shared its name with the mythical blade forged by Azor Ahai, tempered by the blood of his lover. Your mother had been a fervent follower of the Red Temple; when your father asked her to name the sword, she chose to honour her faith.

Would R’hllor really have let her die?

“Yes, your mother,” Lord Hightower said. “Your mother is gone, of course—the Iron Bank was willing to make the assumption after seeing the sword and the prisoners. And as such, yours is the only name that they have listed in ownership of your father’s coin—”

“We may speak of the Iron Bank in a moment,” you said bluntly, interrupting him. “What happened to my mother?”

Queen Alicent breathed in deeply. She clearly meant to chide you for your tone, but Prince Daemon answered before she could, himself unbothered.

“The sellswords mentioned that a woman was present,” Prince Daemon relayed. “She was saved by one of the guards, and the two of them were never caught. The sellswords did not chase them for ransom—they thought her a common whore.”

Then a whore is not such a bad thing to be, you wanted to laugh. Though you had never thought so anyway, because if your mother was a whore, then surely a whore was something to be cherished and pampered. You had always imagined her in a beautiful manse across the sea, hanging on your father’s arm. The two of them were supposed to be laughing in the sun as they drank Myrish wine and wondered how you were doing. They were supposed to be making plans to return to King’s Landing someday, to see you when they received news of your betrothal. You wrote to them everyday when you were a child, asking them what sort of man who they'd like to see you marry. You sealed the letters and asked the sailors passing through Blackwater Bay to take them to your parents in Lys. I don’t know where they are, you admitted to the seamen, but it can't be hard to find a Targaryen prince. The sailors would agree, pat your head, and give you a persimmon or a mango or an orange. You did this day after day after day—because surely your mother would reply to your letters eventually.

Surely, your mother would never forget you.

“Is she alive?” you asked.

“Perhaps. Likely not. The Narrow Sea was a brutal place before I conquered it.”

“But if she survived, where would she have gone?”

“The ship was overtaken at Bloodstone, so likely Tyrosh.”

“Not King’s Landing?”

Daemon gave you a long look. “I will warn you against any wishful thinking, girl.”

It wasn't a wish, you wanted to say. It was a promise. Your mother loved you. She wept when she was forced to leave. Someday I'll come back, she said in Lysene Valyrian, kissing you on the brow. When your grandsire is long dead, I will return and see you again—R’hllor will assure it. And until then, He will protect you.

Your father was supposed to love your mother enough to stay with her. Your mother was supposed to love you enough to someday return. But now your father was a skeleton on Bloodstone, and your mother was lost at sea.

And you—you were all alone.

“I grieve for your loss, my lady,” the Hand said. “But we must turn to the matter of the Iron Bank. That coin was grown from the wealth of the Crown, and as such, it belongs to the Crown.”

“You really have no shame,” Daemon sneered, but the Hand did not flinch.

“The animals of the Reach are plagued with sickness this year. Food has risen in price, and the smallfolk are suffering. Time is of the essence. If the Crown could find the coin to alleviate their burden…”

“The Crown has its own coffers,” you said quietly. The Hand paused, as if surprised by your resistance.

“The coffers are not limitless.”

“The coffers should be managed well enough for hard years.” Your eyes burned hot, but they still met Otto Hightower with hard steel. “If the Master of Coin has misstepped in his stewardship of the Crown’s wealth, I see no reason why I should pay for it.”

“It would not be your wealth being paid. It is wealth belonging to the Iron Throne. Everything from the coin in Braavos to the sword in your hands—”

You could not help it: a laugh escaped you. “You mean to take even my father’s sword from me?”

“It is an heirloom belonging to House Targaryen, so it should be inherited by a man of House Targaryen. Dark Sister was passed to Prince Daemon and not to Princess Rhaenys, was it not? A lady has no use for a sword.”

“An heirloom?” You could not help it—you rose to your feet and held up the blade, and it shone true in the light of the sun. Helaena and Luke visibly recoiled at the bare steel, while Jace watched you carefully. “You think this is one of the swords brought over before the Doom? You think a Mormont or a Stokeworth would have a sword like this? Tell me, Lord Hand—can you read the name engraved here?”

“There is no need, my lady, for you to lose your temper—”

“It says Siglitanor. Do you know what it means? Can you even pronounce it?”

“The name has no bearing on its owner. You are fixating on irrelevant matters, my lady. I caution you not to be so irrational. The issue at hand is the inheritance of the sword, not its name.”

“The name bears relevance to the inheritance, Lord Hand,” you ground out. “It means Lightbringer, named after the sword wielded by the Lord of Light, R’hllor.” Alicent shifted visibly at the mention of your heathen god, her brow knotting, and pressure mounted in your throat, your heart. “No Westerosi heirloom bears the name of this sword, nor its craftsmanship—you may check with the maesters yourself. The sword was a gift bestowed upon my father by the Gonfalioniere of Lys. In his absence, it belongs to my mother, and in her absence, it belongs to me.” You laughed. “You wish to gut me of everything my father left to us, with no respect to our history or our rights.”

“Your father misunderstood your rights, as do you. He represented the Iron Throne in every excursion to the Free Cities, so all wealth and treasures he acquired should be returned to the Iron Throne. And let me remind you, young lady—when the law is misunderstood or transgressed, there are consequences for the criminal.”

You stared at him, incredulous—for while the Hightowers have never loved you, they have never openly threatened you.

The words hung heavy in the air, oppressive to all. Aegon was practically withering; Jace, tenser than you'd ever seen. Aemond appeared unbothered, his expression precise in its neutrality, and this cut deeper than any words from Otto Hightower ever could.

No one dared speak until the Queen cleared her throat.

“Father,” Alicent interjected, watching you carefully. “I do not think it wise to act rashly. The lady is our kin, and we should allow her some grace. Perhaps this is best solved through a formal petition. Let us give the girl a chance to grieve, then present her case to the Throne—if she will even want to make one afterward.”

“And who will oversee the petition?” you asked carefully, trying to control your voice.

Alicent delicately replied, “I will see to it that you are given a fair trial.”

“A difficult task,” you parried, “given that the Hand has overseen most petitions in the past half year while the King has been abed with illness.”

The Hand finally showed his displeasure, his tone severe when he said, “The Queen, in her grace, is offering you a means to avoid punishment for the theft of Crown wealth. It would do you well to show some gratitude.”

You tried desperately to suppress the strangled noise in your throat. Someone touched your shoulder. You glanced to your side; Jacaerys was looking at you, his dark eyes as calm as stone and earth, and you breathed deeply, the knot in your chest untangling some.

“Of course,” you finally replied. “Thank you, my Queen, for giving me the chance to defend myself from these accusations. I shall accept your proposal.”

Alicent nodded. “We find ourselves right now in grief and high passions as we mourn the loss of your father, but we will need time and prudence as we settle this dilemma he left.”

You nearly laughed. Grief is your excuse? you wanted to spit, for it was clear to you—and likely most people in the room—what was going on.

Only Prince Daemon had the nerve to voice it.

“Do you need time to settle this dilemma,” he asked, “or time to regroup? Clearly, you thought the girl would yield to your demands today while you blindsided her with grief. It appears you now need a new strategy.”

The Queen’s jaw ticked. “Good-brother, you misunderstand me. Inheritance law is complex and often at odds with compassion. It would be cruel to wrest away her father’s belongings from her”—Alicent glanced at your sword—“but at the same time, the laws of the Realm must be respected.”

“Fuck the law,” Prince Daemon snapped. “My idiot cousin got himself killed at sea and his sword was acquired by force. It belonged to the sellswords for years before I acquired it by way of gift. It now belongs to me”—you gave him a watery, furious look, but it soon dissipated, replaced by surprise—“and it is now my decision that it should belong to my cousin’s daughter.”

You stared at him, uncomprehending. Mollified. Daemon spoke then in Pentoshi Valyrian—not so different from Lysene Valyrian, but inscrutable to speakers of the Dead Valyrian taught in Westeros: “Viserys and I grew up alongside your father. We knew him well. He would have wanted Lightbringer to go to you—not these vultures.”

Daemon switched back into the Common Tongue as he took his leave, pale eyes cold on Otto Hightower.

“I will see you again during my niece’s petition, Lord Hand.”

VIII. KING OF CUPS, REVERSED

You did not go to dinner that night.

After the meeting in the Small Council room, you could not wait to get away from your family—Targaryens, Velaryons, Hightowers, and all. You kept yourself poised as you excused yourself, but you broke into a run as soon as you were out of sight, your father’s sword grasped tightly in your hand.

You knew it was a childish thing to do, to run away to Blackwater Bay and cry your eyes out. It was nearly as childish as the way you had just spiralled and crashed and burned in front of the Hightowers in that room, living up to every judgement placed upon you. A heathen who worshipped the wrong kind of god. A perpetual foreigner. The pathetic daughter of a lost whore and a dead prince—someone of such little social consequence that the Hand saw you as easy prey for your coin.

In the back of your mind, there was a growing list of things you meant to do to fix it all. You needed to ask Prince Daemon what rhetoric Otto Hightower was likely to bring up during the petition, for no one had politically jousted with that man more than he. You needed to steal all the ledgers of your father’s ventures in the Free Cities before Tyland Lannister could think of having them confiscated. Perhaps you should even appeal to Princess Rhaenyra for her aid, since her husband was going to be supporting your petition.

Most importantly, you had to think of how to maintain your standing with Queen Alicent while fighting for your inheritance. It would not do to win your petition now only to be met later with harm.

It was a long, intimidating list. You knew you should go back to the Red Keep and attend to it. But now the sun was getting low, a violent blood orange in a dimming sky, and you were still weeping bitterly on the rocky shore. You thought of all the passing ships you'd watched from this spot, all the persimmons and mangoes you cradled in your hands as you hoped your letters would reach your parents. Telling yourself that one day your father would return, and your mother not too long after.

You didn't even know why you were still in this fucking castle if your parents would never come back.

Prince Aegon found you like this: wailing into your arms, cussing out the Seven, cussing out the Iron Throne, cussing out Otto Hightower, shivering because the light was low and now you were getting cold.

“Hello, dear cousin,” he greeted, slurring. He made his way toward you, stumbling through the rising tide before stepping onto the rock you were seated upon. He reeked so badly of Arbor wine that you stopped crying just to wrinkle your nose.

“Gods,” you said, revolted, as he sat down beside you and threw an arm around your shoulders. The last thing you needed was his grimy hands on your ass, which seemed to be their favourite spot to rest. “Get away from me, Aegon. I'm in no mood to humour you today.”

Aegon was so drunk that he yielded instantly when you pushed him: he yelped and tumbled onto his side, landing in a puddle of seawater and weeds. You would feel bad for him if you, too, weren't covered in the stuff—the tide had grown high and now your feet were soaked in it.

“I came to comfort you, and this is how you thank me?” Aegon whined.

“Since when have I ever wanted your comfort?”

“Since you are now in need of it,” Aegon said. He pointed at you. “You are in a miserable state.”

“Thank you for your astute observation, my prince.”

“Don't be so cold. Let me console you. Or if you won't let me console you, at least join me in my cups”—he held out a wineskin, which you suspected was nearly empty anyway—“and we can toast your father.”

“Keep my father’s name out of your fucking mouth,” you spat. “Is this your way of taunting me, Aegon? Rubbing salt in the wound that your grandsire and mother just left?”

“Gods, no. You think I wanted any of that to happen? You were not the only person who ran away as soon as that meeting ended, cousin.” Aegon uprighted himself, his knees knocking against yours. You did not push him away this time. “My grandsire—he’s not a very kind man, is he? And as for Mother… well, you know how she is. You are not the first person to be on the receiving end of either of their… machinations.”

“Are you trying to console me? Because it feels more like I’m meant to be consoling you.”

“I would not be opposed if you did,” he wheedled.

“Well, I'm not going to. Go away, Aegon.” You squinted at him. “How did you even know where to find me?”

“My dear brother was worried about your absence at dinner, and only grew more fretful when the Strong bastards said they had not seen you either. He was nearly in tears, sniffling pretty like the Maiden, when he begged me to help him find you.”

Despite yourself, you guffawed at the image that Aegon had just conjured up.

“He said you'd either be feeling sorry for yourself in the dragonpit or you'd be feeling sorry for yourself by Blackwater Bay. I did not feel like wading through dragon dung, so I chose to look here while Aemond combs the tunnels.”

“Well, you've found me. Now you may go.”

“How am I to leave such a sorrowful, beautiful maiden alone?”

“Quite easily, actually. I may throw you into the sea if you don't.”

“No matter—I will swim back to you.”

“With the state you're in? Ser, you will drown, and I will be accused of murder.”

Aegon shrugged, opening his wineskin and taking a deep draught. “That's all well and fine. I'll be free then of the Red Keep, and you would walk away scot-free. You would not be found guilty—simply request a trial by combat, and my brother would be your champion. He will surely slay any foe who challenges you.”

You gave him a curious look. “Aemond told you of our private joke?”

“Err, no? I just think it’s quite obvious the man would kill for you.” Aegon gave you a confused look. “My brother makes jokes?”

“Yes,” you replied, but then you thought more about it. “No. It’s more like I make japes, and he smiles stiffly, and at times he humours me.”

“Ah, that sounds more like him.” Aegon took another swig of wine. “He’s always been a mirthless lad. I've no doubt you will be solely responsible for any joy in your union when it is formalised. Speaking of which, why has my mother not yet announced a wedding feast for the two of you? Surely she cannot mean to let you give birth to a bastard. She may not love you, but she would not disgrace you either.”

You put your face into your hands. “I cannot do this today, Aegon. Leave me. You may report back to your brother and let him know that I'm feeling sorry for myself out here.”

“No, my lady, I told you—I cannot simply leave.”

You gritted your teeth. “Why not?”

Aegon flailed wildly, wine swishing in his hand. “What if you walk into the sea while I'm gone? I would never recover from it. No, cousin, I will keep you safe until my brother emerges from the dung pit.”

“How chivalrous of you. I will not be drowning myself any time soon, though—I must first face your grandsire in that petition.” You quieted at the thought. Aegon’s buffoonery had distracted you for a fleeting moment, but now you were thinking once more of all the dread and the grief and the fury. “Seven hells. Give me that.”

Aegon smiled at you as you snatched the wineskin from him.

“See, my lady? There is nothing that a drink cannot fix.”

You snorted. “Will it fix this inheritance business for me?”

“I mean for it to fix mine.” Aegon began to pick the seaweed out from his breeches. “Perhaps if I drink myself blind often enough, my mother will disinherit me. Then Rhaenyra and her bastards can sit themselves on that blasted chair and I'll be able to live in peace.”

You were so wrung out that, for once, you could not find it in yourself to dance around the topic of high treason. “The Hightowers will never let you get away from the Iron Throne,” you said plainly. “They’ll never be secure unless you are suffering in that chair. Or your brother, if I should first drown you.”

“Please, cousin. Don't make me beg.”

A laugh escaped you despite yourself. Aegon did not bother to hold back his own amusement, giggling openly.

“You know,” Aegon said, after his chuckles died down, “it may not be an option for me, but you could do it.”

You raised a brow. “What? Throw myself into the sea?”

“No, no! No drowning on my watch!” Aegon threw a piece of seaweed at you in reprimand, which you dodged. “I mean to say—you can run. Fly away on dragonback. Go to Braavos and get all your coin. Exile yourself in Lys and spend the rest of your life in decadence. God knows”—he groaned, sounding wistful—“it is what I would do.”

You considered his words. You had always stayed here for your father, and for your lack of coin and supporters. But your father was now dead, and you had so much coin that you had no need for supporters. “I suppose I could.”

“You'd need to go now,” Aegon said. “I would not tell a soul. Not even my brother.”

“Why help me?” you asked him, suspicious. The two of you had never been all that friendly. Close, perhaps, in the way that non-stop quarrelling would make two siblings close—but not friendly.

Aegon shrugged, as if unsure himself.

“Perhaps the day will come when I will wish to go to Lys and enjoy all the beautiful women there, far from the throne,” he slurred, “and when I do, I shall call on my dearest cousin to host me.”

“Surely, brother, you would not disgrace your sister-wife like that,” a third voice interjected. You and Aegon nearly jumped, seawater splashing around your feet. When you turned around, you saw Aemond—smelling strongly of brimstone and smoke, but not dung, you were glad to notice. He did not seem nearly so happy, giving you a long, severe look. “You were not at dinner.”

It all came back, then—the green tunic, the place next to his mother, his unreadable expression as he watched your humiliation in that council room. The memory robbed you of all your mirth.

“My apologies, Prince Aemond,” you said bitterly. “I lost my appetite when I learned of my father’s death and your grandsire’s machinations to steal his wealth.”

Aemond did not reply immediately. Aegon loudly cleared his throat, then somehow got onto his feet. He swayed from the wine and stumbled in the darkness of nightfall, but managed to walk away nevertheless.

“Well, now that you have each other’s company,” he announced, “I shall take my leave. Take care not to let our cousin walk into the sea, brother. It would break my heart.”

“You tried to walk into the sea?” Aemond asked sharply, and you sighed, tired.

“No, Aemond. It was only a jape. A bad one.”

“Hm. My brother does have a poor sense of humour.”

Aemond offered you a hand, and you studied it warily. When you did not take it, he finally said, “I did not know what my mother and grandsire planned to do in that meeting. The news of your father’s death was as much of a surprise to me as it was to you.” A pause. “Though I would wager you had warning and counsel from the blacks.”

“Jace warned me because he cares about me. I did not receive help from Rhaenyra's faction—do you really think I would care to involve myself in petty spats over the throne?”

Aemond hummed. “I know my nephew has great love for you, but it was not him to whom I was referring.”

A blinding, hot flash of anger rendered you speechless for a moment—how dare Aemond drag succession politics into this? But the rage quickly passed, giving way to clarity. For it must have been a great sum that your father had in the Iron Bank, if Otto Hightower desired it. And if it was great enough for him to seek, then it was also great enough for Princess Rhaenyra to do the same.

Aemond watched as you pondered this, your eyes dropping to your soaking, seaweed-ridden feet.

“Fine. You're right. But why didn't you come to my side once you realised what was happening?” you asked quietly. “During that meeting, I mean.”

“It would not have helped you.”

Yes, it would have, you wanted to cry, I'd have felt better for it. But Aemond was too smart and too serious to entertain such childish notions: you knew he was speaking in purely strategic terms.

“No,” you admitted, “but it would not have hurt, either.”

“Alicent cares greatly about the appearance of unity among our family. Were I to break it, she would cease to trust me, and it would be that much harder for me to help you.”

“And how would you help me?”

“What would you want to be helped with?”

You looked up at him balefully. The money, the inheritance laws, the petition—there was no way that Aemond could do anything about any of it, not without alienating his mother. You had half a mind to ask him to throw you into the sea after all, but based on his earlier reaction, he would likely lock you up in your room if you made such a jape.

With nothing else in mind, you simply said, “I don't want to give up this sword.”

He arched his brow. “Is that all?”

“Yes. Well—no.” You brought a hand to your temple. “It’s more complicated than that. I do want to give up this sword, eventually. But to someone worthy of it.”

You stared at Lightbringer, trying to imagine it in someone else’s hands. Hands that did not belong to your father, but someone who loved you as much as he.

Laughable, as the Hightowers would never let you marry for love.

“Here is what I think, Aemond,” you started. “If this petition works out in my favour, all of my suitors will suddenly be from houses allied with your mother’s faction. I will be made to marry a lord who is in Otto Hightower’s pocket, and he will inherit my father’s sword—and all of that coin in Braavos, too.”

Aemond considered it. “It is fair speculation. You do know how my grandsire thinks.”

“Well, I was raised by his daughter.” When Aemond did not argue with you, you bleakly asked him, “What should I do, then? When I am married to a man who intends only to steal from me, on behalf of the Hand?”

“You could always pray for your lord husband to fall off his horse. I would make sure to prove your innocence after the tragedy.”

You stared at him, as gobsmacked as Aegon was earlier. “Aemond, did you just tell a joke?”

“Would it bring you any comfort if I said no?”

You made a noise that was something between a laugh and a sob. When Aemond offered you his hand again, you took it—standing with his help, shivering as your body was exposed to the night wind. A cloak smelling of smoke and ash was placed on your shoulders, and you gratefully accepted it.

“You no longer wish to marry,” he guessed, watching you fumble with his mantle.

“I wish to marry someone of my choosing.” You found that no words in the Common Tongue could quite capture your anguish, so you relied on your Valyrian: “I did not mind the idea of being used by your family, so long as I could live safely. But I cannot bear the thought of anyone using what once belonged to my father. It is”—your voice broke, but you did not cry—“all I have left of him and my mother.”

“I understand,” Aemond replied, his Valyrian soft, lacking its usual cunning edge. “Focus on your petition for now. Worry not about your betrothal. I will handle it.”

You closed your eyes. You had no idea what he could do, but you trusted him. Aemond was brutally efficient in matters of court and power; you could rely on him.

“Alright,” you said. “I shall count on you.”

The nighttime breeze swept your body again; you shivered, still wrestling with the cloak. Aemond evidently tired of watching you struggle; he brought up his hands and straightened the mantle out for you.

“Are you really thinking of leaving?” he murmured. You blinked, not understanding. “You and my brother—you spoke of leaving for the Free Cities.”

You gave Aemond a long look. His expression was inscrutable, but certainly not happy. There are few people in this world who would worry about me, he had said not long ago. And you had told him, not long after: Just know that you can always write to me, no matter how far away I am.

If you left for Lys, that would no longer be true. You imagined Aemond alone at court, dealing with whatever designs his mother and grandsire had, with only his drunk brother and strange sister for allies—and you, an entire sea away, missing every letter the sailors were meant to give you.

“I could not,” you confessed. “Even if I tried, I think I would eventually have no choice but to return to you.”

He hummed. “Good. I fear I would not have been as kind as my brother in conspiring for your escape. You might have found yourself in trouble with me.”

“Another jest from you?” you remarked. “What a strange day this has been.”

Aemond’s mouth curled, but he did not reply. He merely fastened his cloak of ash around you until it was tight around your neck. And for a moment, in the strange and unreliable light of the moon, his smile looked almost unsettling.

END PART II

notes: oh god this chapter was so long now that I'm looking at it posted as one piece (versus ao3 where I split it up). you are truly my ride or die if you read all that. but anyway, below are some notes to help clarify parts of this chapter in case you are confused-

clarifying ages:

There's 2-3 year gap between the reader and Aemond/Jace

Jace in the first scene is initially 10, and you are 13 (text refers to you as “nearly a woman” since it was ye olde times, but you were really both kids)

In the present day, the characters are all in their late teens/early 20s.

timeline and other notes:

This chapter (and story overall) diverged slightly from show canon; Corlys Velaryon has not yet gotten injured so the Driftmark succession petition has not happened. This is still the blacks’ return to court for the first time in years though, hence why some of the events played out similarly to that episode.

Jace feels a little more mature in this chapter than he did in the end of S1 (he is closer to how he behaves in S2), and that is because of two things: (1) he is aged up slightly so he is naturally more mature; (2) I thought he was hotter in S2 and wanted to write about that version of him instead lol

#jacaerys velaryon x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd x reader #house of the dragon x reader #jacaerys x reader #aemond x reader #i really need to make a masterlist rip #edit: i cannot BELIEVE this chapter is 11.1k words when posted as one piece JESUS 😭

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the20thangel · 7 months ago

Text

A Calling to the Past

Summary: Request! Targaryen!reader. The reader has a similar vibe to when Rhaenyra comes back bloodied from the hunt and Harwin Strong gives her the love eyes. However, in this case, it's the reader and Benjicot. Benjicot Blackwood has it down hard for a woman covered in blood.

Word Count: 1.8K

(this is an x reader fanfic but just with a name)

Note: This is the last of my current requests that I have taken. Requests are closed, as I will focus on my series now. Thank you all for your patience, and I hope you enjoy it.

Kingslanding was filled with noble houses from all across the realm. All were coming to celebrate the coronation of their new Queen, Rhaenyra. King Viserys, knowing that his health was not improving, decided to step down from the throne and pass it off to his heir. Of course, since it was still King Viserys, he planned a five-day celebration for the coronation, creating a massive spectacle everyone wanted to participate in—tourneys, hunting games, feasts, masquerade balls, and lastly, ending with the glorious coronation day. They were currently on the second day of the celebration, and Princess Elaena was exhausted.

She did not do well with so many people being in Kingslanding. She preferred the comforts of the calmness in Dragonstone. But of course, being the twin sister of now heir Prince Jacaerys and Crown princess herself, it was her duty to entertain the many lords and ladies who walked the Red Keep. Princess Elaena was ever bit the beautiful Targaryen princess people expected. Her lovely white hair, which usually flowed freely, was tied to a braided bun today. She had deep violet eyes and beautiful dimples that accented her pearly smile. Everyone wanted to make the princess laugh or grin just to glimpse of her dimples.

As the Princess arrived in Kingswood, she glanced at the many houses preparing for the day's hunt; she saw Lannisters, Tullys, Celtigars, Baratheons, and even Starks. All were here for her mother, which brought a smile to her face because until recently. Eleana worried that a war was brewing inside her family, one of Blacks and Greens, but the gods—she did not know which ones—decided to smile upon them, and thankfully, her mother's succession to the Iron Throne was smooth.

Walking into her mother’s tent, Rhaenyra saw her daughter's clothes; instead of gowns like most of the ladies, her daughter was wearing her usual dragon-riding clothes. She smiled, knowing what her daughter’s plan was.

“I see that you will be partaking in the hunt with your brothers,” Rhaenyra inquires, meeting her daughter and pressing a sweet kiss on her forehead. Their bond was strong, and Eleana cherished these moments with her mother.

Eleana smiled no matter how old she was. She would always enjoy her mother’s affection.

“Why, of course, I fear I would grow bored if I had to wait here with the rest of the ladies and gossip over tea. No, I’ll let Uncle Aegon do that,” smirked Eleana as she and her mother shared a quiet giggle between them. Aegon did love to gossip.

Rhaenyra shook her head as she expressed good luck to her daughter, telling her to show those lords how to hunt. Eleana smirked and bowed to her mother, going to find her brothers eagerly awaiting her to start riding off toward the woods. Prince Jacaerys and Lucerys smiled at their sister. They would hunt with their step-father Daemon, Baela, and Uncle Aemond. Daemon nodded to his stepdaughter before signaling to the other lords that the hunt was commencing and riding off into the woods, with the princes and princesses following soon after.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Benjicot tried to stifle a yawn; he had forgotten how long and boring some of these hunts could be here, away from Raventree Hall. His father fondly shook his head at him, understanding his boredom, but Benji needed to get better at concealing his emotions.

At the front, Jace and Eleana also stifled their yawns. They had been riding for two hours with only a few hares and deer being caught. All of the lords had yet to have any luck with elks or boars. Eleana briefly turned her back to the lords behind her, hearing how they boasted their hunting skills with puffed chests. Rolling her eyes, she faced forward again. Men and their egos, she thought.

Suddenly, Daemon raised his hand, halting the party; as he looked around, he heard rustling in the trees. In the distance was an elk grazing in the grass, perfect for hunting. Eleana grinned as she reached for her bow; she took an arrow, nocked it, and pulled her arm back, aiming towards the great beast. She glanced at Daemon, who grinned, nodding his head, giving her permission to strike. Looking back at the elk, she exhaled slowly, releasing her tension, when a young knight from house Lannister shouted.

“Look there, it's an elk!” causing the animal to stiffen, seeing the party and running away.

Eleana growled as she released her arrow, seeing it miss the beast and hitting the tree behind it. With a dark glare, she turned to the young man.

“Yes, good ser, thank you for shouting the obvious. The next time you decide to shout like that, I will gladly hang you upside down as bait for a boar.” threatened the princess as she rode off toward the Elk.

Daemon and the princes began laughing at Lannister’s pale face, which caused the rest of the lords to join in the teasing.

“Well, then, perhaps we should divide into smaller groups. I will take a few of you men, and the princes will take another and meet up with my stepdaughter,” proposed Prince Daemon.

As the lords separated, Lord Samwell pushed Benjicot to follow the princes and princesses, expressing how he might have more fun with those closer to his age. Benji nodded as he moved to the other group, following the young dragons.

Jacaerys nodded to the heirs of house Blackwood and house Tully as they rode to meet with Princess Eleana. Finding her off her horse, letting the animal refresh itself from the small creek. The rest of the group followed, allowing their horses to drink water.

“Eleana, if you were going to threaten a Lannister, you should have just brought him to your dragon.” taunted Aemond, laughing at his niece’s sneer.

“Hm, well, maybe he should have kept his stupid mouth shut; we lost a perfect elk because of his idiotic screeching.” countered the princess, rolling her eyes at her uncle’s taunting.

Benji pretended to cough to cover up his laugh from the princess, and the prince’s bantered. Unfortunately, it backfired when the princess stared at him with an eyebrow raised in confusion. He gulped as the dragon princes and princesses looked at the young heir. Their eyes were daunting with different shades of purple. Luke, being the ever-sweet prince, decided to take pity on him and explained their stepfather’s plan to his sister. Eleana nodded, asking for the names of the new people in their group.

“Oscar and Kermit Tully, and I’m Benjicot Blackwood, but you may call me Ben or Benji.” Benji shyly introduced himself as the Tully brother bowed to the royals.

Eleana smiled subtly, “Well, my lords, as long as you don’t make the same mistake as the Lannister, you are very welcome to our group.”

The young Lads grinned at the princess as they continued their way through the woods, conversing with each other quietly so as not to make any loud noises to frighten the animals they were hunting for. As they rode for another hour, they took a quick break to ease their legs from riding so much. As they stretched their aching bodies, they suddenly froze when they heard rustling from the trees. As they all hurried to reach their weapons, Luke yelled a warning to Benji, who turned quickly to see a different Elk, a buck, running towards him and loudly screaming. As he reached for his dagger, a blur of white passed him. Eleana quickly released an arrow on the buck’s neck, changing its course. The Elk grunted as it turned to the young people, who all braced themselves for it to attack. As the Elk screeched again, running to Eleana and Benjicot, Aemond, and Jace ran towards it, only for it to swing its antlers, smacking both princes to the ground. Benji braced himself, taking out his sword, as Eleana nocked another arrow, letting it soar to the Elk’s leg as it buckled from the pain. Benji placed himself before the princess and stabbed the Elk, trying to stop it from falling on them. The Elk wailed as it fell only inches away from the princess and lord.

Huffing, Eleana smiled at Benji. “Well done, Ben. You managed to kill the Elk.” She praised him, chuckling as the heir of Raventree Hall blushed.

“Only because you injured it first, princess, but what caused the Elk to react that way…” pondered Ben when he was roughly pushed away.

A Boar ran from the trees and bulldozed his way to the group. Eleana, seeing the boar, pushed Benji out of the way as the boar tripped her and tried to attack her with his tusks. Ameond quickly ran and stabbed the boar, causing blood to drip onto the princess. As the prince took out his sword, he kicked the boar away from his niece, and Lucerys and Baela stabbed it, ensuring the beast was dead.

Jace pulled his sister up from the ground, checking for injuries as the Tully brothers did the same for Benjicot. Benjicot waved off his friends as he went to the princess to ensure she was alright. Besides being bloodied with boar’s blood, the princess had no injuries as she and Ben both expressed their concerns to each other. Blushing at speaking simultaneously, Benji lowered his eyes and expressed gratitude to the princess.

Eleana, cheeks red, smiled bashfully at the lord as she comforted him, “I’m fine, thank you. I apologize for pushing you. I just saw the beast coming so fast towards you, and I didn't have time to fully think about my actions.”

Benjicot waved off her apology, “If it weren't for you, my princess, I would have been seriously injured. Thank you.” Grinning, as the princess’s blush worsened.

As the rest of the group gave knowing glances, they started to pack their supplies and return to the camp, noting how a certain raven lord and princess stayed towards the back, quietly conversing with each other. Many gaped at the group once they reached the camp, impressed that they brought back an elk and boar. The royal family thanked the lads, inviting them to their table during the feast as they returned to their tents.

As Benjicot returned to his men, he glanced back at the bloodied princess. As he smiled widely, he thought about how gorgeous she looked. Elaena, seeing the heir to Raventree Hall grinning at her with a soft nod, returned a dimpled grin. She liked having his attention to her. Unbeknownst to them, Rhaenyra was staring at the scene before her, feeling like she was watching a flashback. One of a similar bloodied princess and a dark-haired man nodding his approval. She wistfully smiled, remembering her sworn shield. She carefully made a note of the House Blackwood banner. She and Lord Samwell might need to have an interesting conversation soon after her coronation.

#benjicot blackwood #benjicot blackwood/oc #fanfic #hotd #hotd fanfic #benjicot x reader #house of the dragon #nodanceofthedragons

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thealtoduck · 1 year ago

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Sweet Juice

Clark Kent x Male Reader

Content: Greek Mythology AU

Warnings: Smut, Bottom!Reader, Top!Clark, semi-public sex, anal sex, unprotected sex, drunken sex, skinny dipping, spit as lube, missionary position…

Summary: You’re a member of Dionysus following and during a feast you meet a demigod son of Zeus, Clark, also known as the man of steel…

——

You were a lesser deity in a world filled with powerful gods, monsters and heroes. You were the son of the now famous naiad, Daphne. Unfortunately though your mother was no longer with you as she had been turned in to a laurel tree as a form of mercy.

It was considered mercy because the only other option she had was to be violated by Apollo, who was under the spell of Eros after an argument between the two. Apollo feeling bad about the whole ordeal apologised by finding you a place in the retinue of Dionysus and Ariadne.

You didn’t mind this as your duties were pretty much drink, dance, fuck, drink more and generally just to have a good time. It was just constant partying and celebration.

One night when the party had yet to start a visitor came for Dionysus. You were sat close to the god’s throne, you were petting one of his pet leopards when a strange man appeared and entered the god’s camp. He walked slowly towards the olympian. You noted his handsome appearance as he stopped in front of Dionysus.

”Lord Dionysus, you sent for me” the man said in a deep tone. ”I did” Dionysus confirmed before standing up saying loudly ”Everyone! Let me introduce to you to Clark, you may know him as the man of steel!… And also one of my younger half brothers”.

Dionysus followers broke out in cheers for the hero, who seemed slightly confused by the big welcoming. ”I’ve called him here to save us all from the cyclops that has been attacking in the night” Dionysus declared and everyone once again cheered.

”What?! You never told me of any cyclops?!” Clark asked agitated. ”Actually I didn’t tell you anything but you showed up anyway” Dionysus teased him. ”Why don’t you save them yourself?” Clark questioned. However Dionysus only responded with a simple ”Where’s the fun in that?”.

Clark looked irretated at Dionysus and said ”I will not be tricked in to fighting someone else’s battle”. Making the on looking crowd let out disappointed murmurs. Dionysus walked up to the hero and put a hand on his shoulder.

”Come on Clark, do us this favour and we’ll give you the biggest celebration you’ll experince in a life time, with the finest wine and feast, our best music and dancers and if you want you can take to bed anyone you fancy, we don’t judge” Dionysus offered.

Clark took a moment looking around at the crowd surrounding him until his eyes landed on you for a swift moment. He then turned back to Dionysus and said ”Very well, i shall do you this favour”. Once again the crowd including you broke out in cheers and applause for the demigod.

The very next day gifted Clark with a sword, armour and food by Dionysus as he and his followers saw off the hero on his way to save them from the threat of the cyclops.

I didn’t take long for Clark to return as he was back at the camp by next day. He came back in the afternoon covered from head to toe in dirt, dust and a little cyclops blood. Throwing the red painted sword by Dionysus feet.

”Well done” Dionysus complimented looking at the blood drenched sword. Dionysus then turned towards you ”Y/n, take our hero somewhere he can wash off” he commanded. ”Yes, lord Dionysus” you said with a quick bow. He then turned back to Clark and said ”When you return, we feast”.

You went and collected a basket with a bottle of scented oil, a strigil (a tool they used in ancient greece to wash themselves) and a new chiton. ”This way, my lord” you said to Clark and started guiding him through the forest. ”Please, just Clark is fine” he said humbly following you.

You guided him to a secluded pond. ”Impressive, how did you find this place so quickly?” Clark complimented. ”My mother was a naiad, it’s an instinct” you explained putting down the basket next to the pond.

”Would you like me to bring you anything else?” you asked Clark as he started undressing out of the dented armour and dirty chiton. ”You’ve already done enough for me, thank you” he said gentlemanly. Clark was now naked, revealing his muscled body and impressive manhood, which you tried not to look at.

He stepped down in the pond, the water reaching up to his hips. ”Why don’t you join me?” he suggested gesturing towards the water. ”I’d love too, but i have to help the others prepare everything for tonight” you said. ”Come on, only for a short time” Clark tempted. ”Okay” you said with a smile, taking off your chiton and sandals.

Clark watched your naked form with interest as you stepped down in to the water. ”See, it’s nice” Clark said starting to wash himself off using the scented oil you brought for him. You tried not to stare at his oiled up chest but you were 90% sure he caught you looking but he didn’t say anything, he only smirked.

You relaxed in the cool water for a while until you remembered you needed to get back to the others. You climbed out of the pond and started putting on your clothing once again. ”Thanks for the company, hope i’ll see you tonight” Clark said. ”Hope, i’ll see you too” you said and started walking through the forest back towards camp.

That night the music rang loudly through the forest as you celebrated the death of cyclops and your new hero, Clark. You drank and danced wildly with your friends. Some others were already passed out from drinking, some were gambling and playing games and one couple were fucking against a tree.

You saw Clark sitting on a pillow next to Dionysus talking, goblet in hand. You made your way over to the olympian and the demigod. ”Y/n” Dionysus exclaimed happily as he noted your presence. He patted a pillow next to him saying ”Come sit down”.

You took the offer sitting down next to the god, he made your empty goblet instantly refill and put an arm around you. ”I was just telling Clark of my inner circle” Dionysus revealed and continued ”Y/n, here you’ve met, he is my and Ariandne’s favourite attendant and friend” he said sweetly.

”Also he has a body as if sculpted by Pygmalion, carved and smoothed to absolute perfection. You should hope to have a look upon it someday” Dionysus said taking another sip from his goblet.

”Actually i already have” Clark stated boldly making Dionysus spill some wine on himself. ”Y/n, joined me for a swim in the pond” Clark explained making your cheeks heat up slightly. ”Is that so?” Dionysus questioned looking towards you.

”Well, i’ve got to go find Ariadne” Dionysus said getting up leaving you and Clark. ”Are you and Dionysus-?” Clark started but you cut him off saying ”No, he and Ariadne just have a very open relationship”. ”How has your night been?” you then questioned the hero.

”Enjoyable but i’ve never been much of a party person” he said then taking a sip from his cup. ”I get it, before i came here i wasn’t either” you told him and then got an idea. ”Wanna go for a walk for some peace and quiet?” you asked. ”Sure, i’d love too” Clark said and the two of you stood up and walked off in to the forest behind you bringing your goblets with you.

You walked and talked for a while, drinking until your goblets were didn’t have a single drop left in them. Dionysus must’ve brought out the strong stuff because you and Clark were stumbling around and slurring your speech, you were laughing loudly at each others stories, sitting very close together.

Finally the two of you ended up behind some bushes close by to the party. You started to passionately make out, you laying on your back in the soft grass and Clark on top of you. Clark tore open your chiton and undressed you, leaving your naked form beneath him.

He then took off his own clothes revealing his muscular body and his hard cock. Clark took his hand and brought it to your mouth, you sucked on his fingers to get them wet, then he brought his moist fingers to your enterance and started pushing finger inside you.

You let out a small gasp as Clark started to finger you open, he added another fiinger and then another until you were ready to take him. Clark spit in to his hand and rubbed it over his erect manhood.

”It’s time i claim my reward” Clark said spreading your legs, he lined himself up with you and started pushing his hard cock in to your warmth. Clark loved the seeing the face you made as his cock slowly filled you up.

”Fuck your so big” you hissed as the demigod was fully sheated deep inside you. He then slowy started moving pushing himself in and out of you as a wave of pleasure started washing over you.

Your legs were wrapped around Clark as he thrusted in to you. ”I’m gonna fuck your little nymph hole full with my seed” Clark groaned in to your ear and placed kisses all along your neck. The demigod started speeding up his thrusts.

”Clark, fuck yeah! Take me” you said in ecstasy grabbing at his back as he fucked your hole. Both of your bodies had started gleaming from sweat as he mounted you under the moonlight, as his reward for defeating the cyclops.

Clark’s thrusts became rougher as he wanted to take you like a real demigod would, he loved how your walls clenched around his thick cock. He brutally fucked you with all the strength of his godly heritage to bring you to your release.

You let out breathy moans as Clark pounded your gaping hole, thrusting against your prostate. You felt yourself getting close to your orgasm. You dug your nails in to the grass below as Clark’s cock made you see Mount Olympus.

”Clark, i’m gonna cum” you said panting heavily making Clark thrust deeper as he wanted to push you over the edge. Then your cock started spraying cum all over your and Clark’s stomachs. Clark’s own release was getting close.

”I’m gonna plant my seed deep inside you” Clark moaned and his rough thrusts became uneven and sloppy. Clark delivered one last deep stroke in to you and he erupted inside you, he flooding your insides with his cum.

Both of you panted heavily and Clark rolled over and layed next to you in the grass. ”You were amazing” Clark praised while softly stroking your cheek. The two of you then used your torn clothes as blankets as you cuddled close together and you both fell asleep under the starry sky.

#clark kent x male reader #clark kent x male!reader #superman x male reader #superman x male!reader #dc comics x male reader #dc x male reader #x male reader #male reader #x male!reader #justice league x male reader #clark kent x male reader smut #male reader smut #x male reader smut

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vhagarys · 5 months ago

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forgive me

aemond x wife!reader

summary: his lady wife summons him to the throne room. the last thing he expected was you sat atop the iron throne.

warnings: as this is a fic written by yours truly, SMUT, oral, masturbation, defiling of iron throne, exhibitionism

MDNI

“well, what do we have here, hm?” aemond couldn’t believe the sight before him.

his deep green riding jacket smothered your small figure. he knew you had on only your sheer, beige night slip underneath. but no, it’s where you sat that directed his attention.

your luscious silver curls and soft features were a stark contrast to the menacing, iron chair you seated yourself.

his wife possessed a teasing nature. it’s one of the reasons he adored you. he always indulged in your jests, delighting in your efforts to provoke a laugh from him.

though, you’d certainly outdone yourself on this night.

the act of anyone besides the king sitting on the throne was highly inappropriate, borderline treasonous.

following his brothers tragic accident, aemond had accepted role as prince regent. he was quite taken with his newfound role as ruler of the realm. the power, the authority he so desperately craved was now in the palm of his hand.

though, such authority didn’t seem to extend to his lady wife.

“warming my seat for me, are you ābrazȳrys?,” (wife) he teased, a smile etched on his face as he admired you from the bottom of the steps.

“pay mind to how you address me, my lord,” your eyes filled with mischief.

you felt his eyes drink in your appearance and you briefly felt a bit sheepish under his scrutiny.

suddenly feeling too exposed, you attempted to subtely adjust his jacket to cover your legs, the action not going unnoticed by your lord husband.

“forgive me, your grace,” he played along, bowing his head as he stood at the foot of the iron throne.

you cleared your throat, determined to maintain your regal persona. “i required your presence immediately. you have committed grave offenses this evening which cannot go unpunished.”

the feeling of sitting atop the icy chair sent a chill up your spine. the heady sensation of claiming yourself on the most coveted seat in the realm clouded your mind.

i can see why he enjoys this, you mused to yourself.

“may I ask which crime I am to answer for, your holiness?” aemond cocked his head, barely containing his smirk.

his bold little wife never failed to keep him on his toes.

“you arrived quite tardy to supper. even more so, you failed to greet me with a proper kiss upon your arrival. tsk, I believe I could have your head for this my lord.”

you felt yourself become more submerged in your role, any trepidations for your actions long gone.

with a bolt of confidence, you held his gaze while you slowly uncrossed your legs, revealing your bare center to him.

his eyes darkened at the sight of you, he could practically smell your arousal from where he stood.

so this is how we’re playing tonight, aemond felt himself stiffen in his breeches as he ascended a step toward you.

you may have started this game, but you both knew he would finish it.

“i’m deeply sorry, your grace. allow me to beg forgiveness for my wrong doings. anything you require.” his mind swirled with thoughts of taking you, perching you on his lap and filling your womb with seed on the throne.

you reveled in the predatory, lustful gaze of your husband. the most powerful man in the seven kingdoms at your mercy. or so you thought.

“i suppose there is a way to repent your crimes,” you reached for the first button and began to slowly release them one by one, revealing your hardened buds poking through your slip.

you might have been worried of someone else entering, but the euphoria of witnessing the effect you had on your husband clouded your better judgement.

unfastening the remaining button, you stood gracefully and let the fabric pool at your feet.

you were no targaryen. however aemond knew the fiery blood of the dragon coursed through your veins. no other lady of the court would play this dangerous game, would speak to him with such boldness.

he craved to taste you. he craved to grab at your soft flesh and indulge in the nectar between your legs.

the coolness of the metal seeped though your thin nightgown as you reclaimed your spot on the throne. your legs spread just wide enough you knew he could see the wetness seeping from your core.

daringly, your fingers floated down to your center. you began to rub circles on your clit, your lips parted as arousal fueled your fingers to continue.

he knew what you wanted, and was more than happy to oblige.

slowly and methodically, aemond approached you. meeting his lustful gaze, you watched as he lowered himself to his knees in front of you.

“may I, your grace?” he whispered, you could do nothing but nod as his fingers slowly ran up your exposed leg. his touch searing into your skin, you unconsciously spread your legs wider.

large hands roughly gripped the back of your knees, a low growl was all you heard before he dragged his warm, wet muscle through your dripping folds.

“gods,” your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you felt more arousal drip from your center and onto his devilish tongue.

“fuck you taste heavenly,” he drawled, suckling at your entrance, you gasped.

he set an unforgiving rhythm devouring your cunt.

lost in the throes of pleasure, your hands found purchase in his silver strands, tugging desperately whenever he applied pressure to your pearl.

if you weren’t disoriented by the assault on your cunny, you may have reddened at how quickly you could feel the coil in your belly about to snap.

“p-please my love. i’m close,” you begged, long forgetting the domineering facade you fabricated earlier.

fuck, you sound so pretty when you beg, his member hardened painfully watching your eyes fill with tears.

only sparing a moment away from your cunt, he commanded, “such a good girl for asking. go on, make a mess for me.”

with a final flick of his tongue, you cried out as you came undone. your body spasmed as the waves of your peak flowed through you.

soon, your body went limp and were close to falling back onto the swords behind you before you were scooped up by your husband.

draping his jacket over your frame, he quickly brought you to your shared chambers, making sure no eyes were present in the corridors.

lowering your body onto the bed, you were instantly met with fluffy blankets and you sighed in content.

expecting your husband to join you, you opened your eyes only to find him completely bare, looming over the bed. seeing him in all of his glory always seemed to stir something within you.

“i hope I am forgiven for my misdeeds from earlier?” you nodded.

he grinned and looked down to trace the patterns on the bed sheet, “do you think we are through, little wife? you didn’t think I would punish you for that little stunt you pulled?”

he grabbed your ankle and swiftly dragged you to the foot of the bed.

stunned by his sudden roughness, words escaped you as he grasped you by the chin and whispered “va ry izula, sir.”

(on all fours,now)

another mind dump of aemond, surprise surprise ;)

- alice

#hotd #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #prince aemond #aemond one eye #hotd aemond #hotd smut #aemond fic #aemond smut #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction

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apollowhoo · 3 months ago

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HELLO, can I request some Jason The Toymaker headcanons? The reader looks like a doll, one of those old ones. Please, established relationship :3

I'm sorry if I didn't explain myself well, I'm terrible at English.

ACTUALLY GOING BALLISTIC OVER MY FIRST CREEPYPASTA REQUEST!!

JASON THE TOY MAKER X DOLL LIKE!READER

Jason was utterly captivated the moment he saw you. Your porcelain-like skin, the way your eyes seemed to sparkle unnaturally in the light, and your perfectly delicate features reminded him of the fine craftsmanship he adores in his work. From the very start, he considered you a masterpiece—a living, breathing work of art.

To him, you’re as fragile as glass and just as irreplaceable. He has no problem glaring at anyone who so much as looks at you for too long. In Jason’s mind, the world is full of people who don’t deserve to admire something as perfect as you.

Jason can’t help but treat you like a literal doll at times. He’s constantly asking if you’ve been taking care of yourself. “Have you moisturized? You mustn’t let your beautiful skin dry out!” He’s also overly concerned about any blemishes or scratches you might get, to the point where he might lash out at whatever (or whoever) caused them.

Jason has a special chair in his workshop that he calls your “throne.” It’s covered with velvet and decorated with intricate carvings he spent hours perfecting. He insists you sit there and watch him work, claiming that your presence inspires his creativity.

Despite his sweet moments, Jason’s darker tendencies occasionally emerge. He adores you, but his definition of “love” often leans toward... ownership. “You’re mine, my perfect little doll. No one else will ever lay a hand on you.” It’s both a declaration and a promise, one he would uphold with blood if necessary.

Jason loves dressing you to match his aesthetic—dark reds, golds, and intricate designs that give you the appearance of a vintage doll brought to life. He takes immense pride in how the two of you complement each other, calling it “a display of true craftsmanship.”

To Jason, you’re more than a lover—you’re his muse. His workshop overflows with creations inspired by you: doll replicas, paintings, carvings, and even jewelry. “Every artist needs their inspiration,” he says with a smirk, “and you, my dear, are mine.”

#headcanon #headcanons #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta #jason the toymaker #jason the toymaker x reader #doll #creepypasta fandom #creepypasta x you #creepypasta characters #oneshot #yandere male #yandere #drabble #yandere x reader

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twooftheluckyones · 3 months ago

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Cult of the Lamb: Luck of the Lamb Part 4: Reap the Whirlwind

The physical body does not exist within the afterlife, instead the land is inhabited by the souls of the dead or departed. Resurrection repairs the mortal coil, but godly wounds ceaselessly weep. Thus, a god cannot survive death without the healing properties of a conduit crown. Despite this many have tried, though normally its not someone else's power keeping them clinging to the margins of life. A power now bonded through the sheer force of will to share a lonely throne. ~Previous/Next~ ~Start~ ~~~~ Story Segment Under Cut ~~~~

Rage. Betrayal. Vengeance.

Their fight filled the afterlife with destruction and violence. Two gods wrestling for the key to their power. Blade and blood met flame and fury.

Narinder was an old god, powerful beyond measure even in his imprisonment. He had commanded life and death, and weilded curses effortlessly. Una would not be the first god he'd killed.

Yet fate had other plans.

She crackled with divine energy, dancing around his attacks effortlessly.

Lucky.

It felt like ages, and yet before he knew it, it was over. Her blade, made of his crown, plunged into his chest, and his eldritch form crumbled. A god defeated, reduced to nothing.

And then...

Pain. Nothing but searing hot, agonizing pain. Narinder felt lost in a sea of torment, his body suddenly awash with screaming flesh. Through burning nerves he distantly noticed the world around him felt different, the brittle bone meal landscape of the gateway gone. Instead, he felt stone, grass, and chill air against his skin. His eyes felt like hot coals shoved in their sockets, and even trying to open them felt like a dagger to the skull. The sensations were nothing but a candle to the raging inferno of suffering. In another time, he wondered if this was what the mortals he damned in the afterlife felt like. Perhaps that was his fate now. Eternal pain. Fitting. Yet as he laid there, squirming weakly in the depths of agony, something approached. "Nrdnr?! Hly Shtt!" Muffled words reached his ears, soft hands scrambling over his skin. Some demonic tormentor, come to perpetuate or relish in his state? "Hld Stlll! Fgk Fgk!" It was impossible to think over the agony, and they pushed away his hands as he feebly tried to fend them off. The cold ground under him suddenly felt warm and sticky, the silken robes he wore suddenly wet with something. "Hre! Ths iz phor thg baain." His attacker grabbed his head, shoving some vial of something against his lips. The biter oily fluid hit the back of his throat, a spasm of coughs making his body jerk and flail, each one feeling like barbed wire was being flossed through his bones. This really was hell. Hands yanked his tattered robes off, exposing his skin to the cold air. Some kind of cloth wrapped around his arms, pulled tight against the angry nerves. More on his chest, pushed against the spaces in his ribs where an echo of betrayal now bled. Two betrayals. Twice now he'd trusted and lost for it. At least the last time he hadn't been alive to feel what dying was like. "Hold still! Where did all this blood come from?!" A sudden calmness entered his mind, and the fire of agony faded into a foggy, numb abyss. Narinder opened his eyes. Stars met him, the half moon's pale light shining down. He tilted his head up, the movement feeling like lifting a boulder. Some figure hunched over him, their hands covered in inky black liquid as they quickly unrolled another bandage and began wrapping it around his chest. Almost instantly the white fabric turned black. The fog around his head grew thicker, eyes fluttering heavily as consciousness became fleeting and fickle. The figure glanced at him, red meeting red. Despite his injuries, Narinder still possessed enough strength to recognize them.

"Narinder," Una's voice poured with grief. "I'm so sorry, please just hold on. Its going to be okay."

Another empty deceitful lie. "Una..." he muttered, voice a mere whisper through his scratchy and weak throat. "Narinder?" Her eyes wept a river of tears, the guilt in her words echoed across her face. The traitorous eye of his former crown gazed down from atop her head, watching with unending apathy. Rage bloomed in his oozing chest, a small surge of fury granting him some measure of energy. He summoned all of his remaining power, defiance filling his fading mind. "Fuck you." Darkness.

#cult of the lamb #cotl #totlo art #cotl narinder #cotl lamb #narinder #narilamb #narinder x lamb #LOTL COTL AU #fanfic #original comic #cotl aym #cotl baal #oh yeah we full color now #cw blood

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starogeorgina · 20 days ago

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐢𝐧

Warnings: Incest, swearing, cheating

Pairing: Cregan Stark x reader, Aemond Targaryen x reader

1.07

Sighing, you pop another grape into your mouth, savouring its flavour. Maitland was attending his lessons, and you found yourself feeling restless; you were intending to go to the dragonpit but got summoned to the dowager queen's chambers before you were able to leave the castle.

“It has been weeks, and still no letters have arrived from Dragonstone.” Clicking her tongue, she stops pacing and stares down at you, unimpressed with how bored you seem. “Or the North. I cannot make sense of Lord Stark’s raven.”

“What do you expect Rhaenyra to say? Aemond killed her son, then you and Grandsire used Jaehaerys's death as part of a political campaign to slander her.”

Scoffing, the forever queen takes a drink from her goblet, shaking her head. You knew that look well, the familiar way she narrows her eyes and clenches her jaw. The next time your mother speaks, her tone will be sharp and laced with irritation.

“And I suppose you have some great wisdom to share?”

Ignoring her comment, you take in her current form. Her usual neatly pinned-up hair was free and wavy, and she opted to wear a less formal velvet dress instead of one of her more elaborate gowns. Being the opposite from her, you were wearing a loose emerald green gown and had golden ribbons through your hair.

“Not even going to grace me with a witty comeback?”

“I have more pressing issues to concern myself with,” you say before eating another grape.

The former queen sits down next to you, a look of disdain still strong on her features. “You have no idea the sacrifices that were made to our Aegon on the throne. The realm only knew peace while Viserys was alive, which is why I believe on his deathbed he finally realised the realm would never accept a queen. That he should name his firstborn son to maintain the peace.”

You weren’t present during the king's final hours, but you found it hard to believe your father's final wish was to betray not only Rhaenyra but Jacaerys as well. You keep these thoughts to yourself.

Your eyes suddenly gloss over; your mother notices and softens. “I sometimes forget both daughters are suffering,” she admits. “Helaena lost a son, and you—“

“I am upset over Jaehaerys, but that’s not why I’m crying.”

“Then what is causing you to be so upset?”

“My moon blood is late.”

—

At night you’d hear the sound of snow being crushed underneath heavy footfall.

And in your dreams the grounds of Winterfell were no longer covered in snow and ice; the castle was surrounded by melting slush and the greenery of the grass coming through.

You finally understood the blank scroll. There was nothing written on it because there was nothing either of you could do to change what has been set in motion. At least that’s how you interpreted it.

Eyes flickering open as you roll over in the bed, you’re startled by a figure sitting in a chair that’s facing you. Panicking, you lurch upright. “Why are you here? Has something happened? Where’s—“

“In his nursery,” Aemond says coldly. “I was sent to check on you since you didn’t attend the council meeting. Aegon’s exact words were ‘go and get her’ as if I were a dog.”

Still in a slight daze, you look outside; the sun was still shining, but you doubted it would be long before night came. Climbing off the bed, you start straightening your dress. “Maitland still isn’t sleeping through the night. He is scared.”

Aemond has been colder recently, only speaking to you when necessary and being snappy when he did. What hurt was watching him ignore his son, who was pining for his attention. You had considered telling Aemond it was possible you were pregnant but decided against it until you knew for sure.

Especially since…

“You were talking in your sleep.”

“Oh?” You slip your shoes on. Trying to ease the tension, you ask, “Anything of interest?”

“Something about a man breaking his oath and it being his downfall.” Aemond stands up tall, his body towering over yours. “Their blue blood will spill, but not during our story. What strange things to say.”

“If only I could remember my dreams. We should go; I’ve kept the king waiting long enough.”

—

“The Northerners have reached the neck; we are yet to learn who they are backing,” your grandsire lets out a frustrated sigh. “Daemon has taken Harrenhal.”

Aegon tosses his empty cup at the wall. For days he has been insisting the Greens Army, his army, went to the large castle, but nobody listened. This could be disastrous for many reasons. Your mother wasn’t present since she had taken Helaena to the sept, and because you missed the initial meeting, there was only yourself, the king's hand, Ser Criston, Aegon, and Larys Strong now sitting in the council chambers. You didn't like Larys; his darkness was hidden well behind the make of his disability, but you could still sense it.

“The riverlands are divided; House Blackwood is supporting the pretender, and Bracken is supporting the rightful heir,” Ser Criston adds.

“The Brackens will bend the knee to our sister when face to face with Caraxes.” The room falls into complete silence. Only those with the strongest of wills would choose death over breaking an oath.

“I will meet Stark at the Twins, and if his men are flying the banners of the whore of Dragonstone, they will die. Then I will search for our uncle.”

“No, you cannot do it alone. I can leave on Vermithor tonight to look for the army from the north while you go to the Riverlands.” Standing up, you look over the map on the table. “My best course to avoid detection will be to go along the gold road, then towards River Run and north from there.”

Irritated, the one-eyed prince grates his teeth, “Why?”

“Our strongest enemy is in Harrenhal. Vermithor may be the second largest, but Vhegar is formidable.” You click your tongue. “Daemon sylutan naejot emagon īlva tresy ossēntan. Nyke thought ao would jaelagon naejot rhaenagon zirȳla isse vīlībāzma.” (Daemon tried to have our son killed. I thought you would want to meet him in battle.)

“It kessa mērī sagon iā vīlībāzma lo ziry dares naejot laehurlion nyke.” (It will only be a battle if he dares to face me.)

“And what about me? I am the king.”

“I know, brother,” you place your hand over Aegon’s. “Which is why you should stay in King's Landing and patrol the city, letting them see their ruler as a dragon rider willing to protect them. Once you’ve sobered up, of course.”

Your grandsire gives you a nod of approval, although you were sure if that was a good or bad thing. “I’m unsure if my mother has returned from the sept yet, but Ser Arryk can escort my boy or one of my ladies to the queen's apartment with him; he will stay there until either myself or his father returns.”

Without saying anything, Aemond abruptly pushes his chair back, storms towards the door, and goes to leave, but Aegon calls out, “No goodbye kiss for your wife? Shame on you, brother.”

Swinging your foot, you discreetly kick Aegon in the shin. “Stop behaving like a drunken child and take this seriously.”

You flinch at the feeling of loose hair getting tucked behind your ear; Aemond was suddenly standing beside you. He leans down as if to kiss you on the cheek and whispers, “I know you fucked someone else.”

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x targaryen!reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen fanfiction #Aemond Targaryen/you #Aemond Targaryen/reader #Aemond Targaryen #cregan stark fanfic #cregan stark x you #cregan stark/reader #cregan stark fanfiction #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark #Cregan Stark/you #house of the dragon fanfiction #the beauty of sin

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hypernova-writes · 3 months ago

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MEDIC SMUTTTTTTT. Medic x Reader smut where Medic is just absolutely enamoured by Reader and wants to fuck her into an oblivion. :)

a/n: Of course you can!!

Obsessed. [Medic x Reader]

To be honest. If someone were to ask Medic when he started feeling the way that he felt about you. He would simply say it was since day one.

Never had he seen someone so beautiful, so amazing, so fiesty until his gaze landed on you.

He witnessed you just blitz through the enemy team one match because they insulted your teammates. The blood that stained your clothes, the way it splattered on your face had his heart going 90 mph.

After he healed you that match, he went into his office and tried to calm himself down. But he couldn't he kept seeing those images of you flash in his eyes.

"Fuck..Fuck..Why can't I get zhem out of my mind! Zhis is not professional!" He tried yelling to himsefl, but his mind was running laps already.

"Oh Luddy..Darling~" He could imagine you, sitting on his examination table, half dressed, ready for him to...examine you. You would beckon him forward...blood on your body, probably from your enemies.

"Come here...I need a doctors touch~" And he would come, all you would have to do is say his name in that little tone you would always do.

Oh the things he would do to you if you'd let him.

He'd want to feel your body up, caress and woship at it like it was an altar he was praying to, and you were the goddess that was going to brighten his world.

He wants to feel your thighs wrap around his head, bury his face in your cunt and have a taste of that pretty pussy of yours. He wanted- no needed to hear you moan for him, because of him. He craved it like a person needs air to breathe.

And oh god when he would think about your pussy, wrapped around his cock, he could feel a shiver go through his body. He could imagine how you would look under him as he fucked into you, taking you against every solid surface in the med bay. From his desk, to the examination table, the floor, his bed, against the wall, hell he'll fuck you standing up. He has the strength.

He just wanted to pump you full of his cum, he just wanted to see his cum dripping from your just so he could fuck it back in-

"Oh Doctor~! I need you for a second!"

Medic snapped back to reality when he realizes that you were standing in his lab. Covered in blood from the previous match, and wearing that damned smirk.

"Hmm? And vhat can I do for you taube?" He asked as he tried to gather himself, he turned his back to you, before he froze upon hearing your next words.

"I need a doctor's touch~"

-> Hi everyone! I'm just starting to put my Kofi and my throne at the end of fics now because of my home situation. [See this post for context] You do not have to donate! It's just something i wanted to start posting this on my fics.

-> Kofi - Throne.

#tf2 fandom #tf2 x reader #tf2 fanfiction #tf2 fanfic #team fortress 2 #team fortress 2 x reader #tf2 #team fortress 2 imagines #medic x reader #tf2 medic x reader #tf2 medic #medic #medic tf2 #medic tf2 x reader

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weclassygirl · 4 months ago

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bound

⋆˙⟡ sauron x fem!elf!reader (witch) ⟡˙⋆

summary: reader is captured from the comfort of her home to serve the Dark Lord, Morgoth. his loyal servant lures her further into darkness

warnings: some fighting, but nothing really

word count: 2,3k

author’s note: i had an idea in my mind for weeks now and really wanted to write a witch!reader but i’m not sure how it will turn out if i start writing more for it. consider it a one shot for now

The chains dug mercilessly into your neck and wrists, every movement reminded you that you would not be so easily free. You cursed yourself for being so reckless, for becoming too careless, too comfortable in your own home. He needed a healer or so they said when they stormed in the middle of the night and dragged you away from Greenwood. Your body covered in wounds, dried blood clinging to your clothes as they threw you into a cell and laughed as they left.

You were aware of who Morgoth was, how could you not? Forodwaith was a fortress that not many dared to cross into and not many managed to leave unharmed. Every fight, every battle you tended to him, much to your dislike. He nearly killed you the first time you refused and left you unconscious for days from one single blow. The next time you didn’t fight back, you told yourself it would be easier to stay compliant until the opportunity arose and after centuries of waiting it did.

Morgoth was defeated, you should rejoice, then why didn’t you? Years of torment left you numb and still chained in your cell with no light of hope for freedom.

You awaited your end and as the last bit of light shone into your cell you heard it, an orc staggering through the halls, his steps uneven as if he drank too much ale, and perhaps he did. You move to the shadows and wait, your hand lingers by the bars as the orc passes through, one precise cut is all it takes for him to stumble onto the ground.

Your hand holds a bone, carved to a sharp point and for a split second, you think back to that faithful day when it landed in your cell. Months it took you to carve it, your nails broken, your hand cut by the many stones you used to chip away piece by piece at it.

The orc crawls to you but you drive the weapon into his neck, his scream dies as it pierces his throat, you grab the set of keys at his side and retreat your weapon. You unlock the cell and your chains, a breath of relief goes through you as the weight is lifted but your moment of joy has to wait, you’re not free yet.

You toss the orc into your cell and hide him in the shadows, his legs peeking in the light, a small diversion should anyone look for you. You grab his weapons and lock the cell, you step quietly on the stone and hear an orc at the end of the path, you hide in the shadows but they do nothing to shield you from his view.

The orc attacks you and another joins, you stumble back as he kicks you in the stomach and you duck to avoid his blade. Your eyes flash with anger as you cut at his calves and stab him from behind, the other orc receives a dagger thrown at his head, both of them land with a thud. A moment passes as you compose yourself when you hear the orcs coming to inspect the noise.

You do your best to hide and cover yourself with a piece of fabric that was tossed on the floor, a foolish hideout but your mind did not cooperate how you wanted it to.

Morgoth took whatever rational thinking you had left and shattered it to pieces, he prided himself that a Silvan Elf could be so easily broken.

The orcs leave and you walk away as quietly as you can. The halls continue to stretch as you walk down and you hear a voice and chatter of orcs, you realize it’s the throne room but where Morgoth usually stood, another took his place, his most loyal servant. You hear him before you see him as you take a glance from the column that shields you on the gallery.

“For I seek a new kind of power.” his voice commands in the place but you see his hands fidgeting slightly. “Not of the flesh, but over flesh. A power of the unseen world.” you scoff under your breath.

Those were your words.

As you laid in your cage he visited you, a strange occurrence it was as no one has talked with you in centuries. Not a real conversation at least.

“I see why he has kept you around.” he says as he strides towards your cell. The cut that previously adorned his face now completely healed. “No healer of his has ever survived that long.”

You do not answer, your mouth too dry to fire back any response. He had no orders to come to you, his curiosity got the best of him for he knew you were not simply a Silvan Elf, something else resided in you, something that he could use.

“It is not very often that an Elf would separate from their people… I wonder what caused your decision for such an act?” he says and you look up at him, his red hair neatly combed, not a mess you saw after the orc brought him to you.

“Why did you let Morgoth corrupt you?” you ask suddenly and he arches an eyebrow in amusement.

“She speaks.” he responds. “What makes you think he corrupted me?”

“You used to serve Aulë, the very smith of the Valar. How can one turn to darkness so swiftly?”

He waits before he speaks. “Shouldn’t you know?” a breath catches in your throat, for that single question makes you rethink some of your choices. It’s no secret to why you left, you have all but became a whisper on their tongues, a passing shadow.

No respected Elf should dabble in the dark arts.

“You may have reached for it but you do not know how freeing it can be once you let it in completely.” he responds and you walk closer to the bars that separate you. Your hands rest on the cold iron as he steps closer. He takes a longer look at you but you don’t avert his gaze. “You could be free of this.” he taps the chains around your wrists. “You could be more than just a Silvan Elf, cast out by their own.”

Your lips part to speak but he leaves as quickly as he arrived, leaving you to ponder over his words.

Oropher knew you’d grown too accustomed to studying it, your hands reflected it as they grew darker at your fingertips. He saw how quick to anger you’ve become over the simplest things and had no choice but to cast you out. People started to talk.

The balance in his kingdom could not be disrupted so quickly.

Solitude has become your friend in the long years, the trees surrounding you a solace and the spiders crawling over your head an omen for the Elves. They knew you practiced magic, but even the smallest dip into the dark had set the pond to ripple through. The spiders ran down from the north and near the Elvenking’s Halls, leaving webs and plundering the forest ever so slightly.

It’s a few months later when he appears before your cell again. He’s been known to seek you out every now and then.

Morgoth never knew that his loyal servant would spend his time in front of your cage.

You don’t hide in the shadows this time and walk closer. He studies you again, his gaze unyielding as much as yours. Morgoth took his time tormenting you and yet you stand without a trace of any pain, you’ve learned to hide it well.

“Have you come to gloat?” you ask him. He was there as his master placed wounds on your body, carved marks into it to condemn you, should you ever return to the Elves. He shakes his head.

“Believe me, I did not take pride in witnessing it.”

You’re surprised. “Does your wretched soul have a heart?” you ask with a hint of sarcasm. You’d be a fool to believe a word out of his mouth and yet you feel a hidden intention beneath it. “What do you want?”

He places his hands on the bars. “You come rather quick to anger.” he exclaims.

“So you’ve come to lecture me.”

“No, no. I would not dare.” he raises his arms as if in surrender. He lets his hand fall and he grabs your chains, he traces the iron before his fingertips go over the blackened fingertips, you feel a quick sting under your finger and notice he drew your blood. You look at him with a question. After a moment he asks the one thing that has been on his mind. “Have you considered my offer?”

You look down at your hand and the blood as you heal yourself. “Is that what you call it?”

“You and I are not so different.” he begins. “Both lured by the darkness, bound to it whether in this life or the next.” his eyes watch you as you use your magic and he smiles softly. It’s a strange sight coming from him but you suppose it goes hand in hand with his twisted nature.

“I did not chose it. I did not want it.” you lie and make yourself believe in the truth of your words.

“Then how did it come to being in your life, hm? Surely you must have sought it out, any scroll, any passage in a book that could help you understand it.”

“Hold your tongue.” you warn him.

“I think you did want it. You craved it, in fact.” he says and whispers. “You could have the world at your fingertips, within your reach. No Elvenking to ever exile you again.” his voice grows softer as he says it and a part of you wants to believe him.

“You’d make me a tyrant.”

He shakes his head. “No, not a tyrant.” his words are left hanging in the air.

You step closer until you reach the bars, he doesn’t step back. “And if I agree, what then? I’ll have the power of the unseen world but what of the lives of others?”

“It will be in your path to decide what you should do with them. A power over a world you would see fit.”

You laugh and turn away from him. It dies down as you mutter to yourself, the bit of your mind that Morgoth has twisted makes itself known. “A power over flesh.”

He tilts his head as he listens, he knows you could be a valuable ally to his scheme, you simply need a little persuasion. “You’ll be at peace once you let it in.” he leaves you once again with his words echoing in your mind. No use of the dark magic takes toll on your body, even if it’s a quick spell your mind yearns for the familiar warmth of it.

His words don’t leave you for days.

Peace.

Something you haven’t felt in a long time. Could it be the answer?

“Doubt me at your peril.” he says and after a moment an orc attacks him. He stabs him in the eye once, for a split second he observes before plunging it into him again and again until the orc lays dead on the ground. You look down at Sauron as Adar comes with Morgoth’s crown, he looks up at it and his eyes wander to the place where you stand. You hide behind the column and hear the roar of orcs, you look down to see them attacking Sauron, the black blood pools around him and you use the commotion to run to the exit, no orc sees you, no one follows as you run through the land with your feet bare.

You run as fast as your legs are able to take you and a blast from the fortress knocks you down. When you come to it you see the snow and ice surrounding the area.

It came from the fortress. You feel a pang in your chest and hear a passing whisper in the back of your mind. You think nothing of it but a part of you wants to return and see for yourself.

You shake your head from the thought and begin to march forward.

As you walk through Forodwaith you reach a road, despite being miles away from your prison the snow covers all land and now it makes you wonder if it could be Sauron’s doing. You don’t get to think over it as a searing pain goes through your head, stronger than before.

Your knees buckle underneath you as you cradle your head, trying to make the pain go away. You don’t feel the ground when you fall unconscious.

Softness is the first thing you notice as you come back to it. The light shines through the balcony and the curtains flow in the wind, a familiar face sits by the bed. Her voice is muffled in your ears when she calls your name.

“We have all thought you were gone.”

You sit up on the bed as you take a look at Galadriel. You cough and rub at your eyes. “I would not be so easily killed, Commander.” you look around the room and notice the guards at the door. You look to Galadriel and her gaze is sorrowful.

You knew this day would come, Oropher made sure of it that every Elf was made aware of you.

A witch.

An Elf who was seduced by the dark magic. You hide your hands within the long sleeves of your dress. It is then that you notice the torn clothes you wore for years are gone.

You sigh and get out of the bed. “Lead away.” you say and you follow her through Lindon. You see the looks the Elves give you, the whispers where the word “Morgoth” lands on their tongue with such ease.

Lindon is ever beautiful as you remembered. Trees soaring around you, birds flying above you. And yet you feel the sickness that lies upon the land.

You look up as you reach the Great Tree and notice the black veins curling around some leafs. You give a short nod to the High King but his expression is ever so serious.

You dread his judgment.

next part ⇁ visions

#sauron x reader #rings of power #sauron #lord of the rings #elf!reader #witch!reader #tolkien

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blueberrypancakesworld · 2 months ago

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Door.19 ~ The cold won't get you ~

Commodus x servant!reader

warning : kiss, mutual attraction, implied obsession

Summary : He had seen many winters come and go, as heir to the throne he didn't have to worry about warmth or enough food. Even now as emperor he had no worries when the snowflakes began to cover Rome, but the gaze of the Lorber crown bearer was fixed on something prettier, something that seemed to be suffering from the cold…he had to show his generosity once more.

info : If Geta, Caracalla and Acacius had their turn, Commodus had to get a door too. Have fun with our generous emperor :)

masterlist ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

From the moment he felt the golden laurel wreath on his head, he knew that he finally had everything he wanted. His throne, a people, an army, his sister and the whole world was at his feet he was God-given he was the Emperor Commodus ruler of the Holy Roman Empire. But in all this splendor, something seemed to be missing.

Something he didn't have, only partially had, his sister he loved her but she wouldn't return his love, no it wasn't her he looked at every day. His eyes settled on someone lowly, someone without gold, without blue blood, someone who nevertheless outshone the grace of all.

From the moment he had seen her, a servant of his sister so inconspicuous in the light toga, no make-up adorning her face, and yet she looked like a goddess.

Whenever he met her she stopped and bowed slightly and her almost hesitant ,,My Emperor” came from her, his eyes watching her gaze closely from his eyes to his lips down to his hands before she quickly looked down at the ground and walked on.

But it was his gaze that followed her, such beauty she could have easily made his but just now when the cold brought people closer together he would dare.

He waited in his chamber, having ordered her here I am truly tormenting her he thought and almost felt remorse when he had given her the order to fetch new wood for the fire bowls that stood scattered around the room and on his balcony.

The footsteps approaching ended with a knock and the door to his room opened at his approach, Commodus watched her as she tried not to shiver as she placed the wood on the pile, ,,Do you need...do you need anything else?” she asked, having to start again due to the cold.

The black-haired man stood up and saw how she couldn't interpret him but her gaze didn't leave his form, ,,My thanks to you, but just as my gaze follows you, yours follows me. Tell me, why are you looking at me?” he asked, coming closer to her, sensing her embarrassment with every step.

Her stammering in an attempt to find an answer made him smile, ,,An emperor and a nobody and yet so much for each other” he made her stop, she flinched in surprise when his hand finally touched hers, her cold from outside meeting his warmth.

He lifted her hand slightly to his lips and kissed the back of her hand, taking away the cold with his devotion, ,,Stay with me and not even the cold will ever get you,” he spoke, not a plea, a command she could do nothing about.

He began to warm her cool skin with his kisses while the snowflakes blew around the imperial palace, protecting the emperor with his love from all that would harm them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

#emperor commodus #commodus #commodus x reader #male x female #reader is female #gladiator #advent calendar 24

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sweetblossomsss · 3 months ago

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Behind The Mask || Kang Yeosang

Synopsis: A cold-blooded, masked king appoints you, a new personal servant. He expects obedience—not the stirrings of emotions to his long-buried heart. Your calm and soft presence softens something within him. His most dangerous dangerous battle? Dressing up as a mere guard and the risk of opening his heart to you because he has fallen for you.

Word Count: 20K. Started: 2022est. Finished: Nov. 11, 2024

Warnings: nsfw, fluff, happy ending, angsty, lots of killing, stabbing, blood, death (none main character), Y/N really can't tell he is the guard, very very sweet lovely dovey moments, historic era, smut, one shot, Y/N gets hurt at one point, if I'm missing anything let me know!

Blossom's Note: This story had me twirling my hair as I kicked my feet and all I saw Yeosang saying "blah blah blah proper name, place name, backstory stuff." How are my petals? I know its been a while. I'm sorry for disappearing. School and work consumed my time. Yes this story took two years because writers block SUCK and ofc school and work. I hope you all enjoy this story. I hold this story close to my heart. Now without further ado, grab a drink and popcorn and read on!

—

There he was, the one and only cold blooded king, sat upon this golden with different color rare gems, dragon like throne. Draped in the finest silk robe that adorned red and gold outlines of dragons patterns that just exuded majesty.

His long luscious black hair half up while the down part rests in front of his shoulders. His mask, dark blue with intricate golden designs concealed his features, leaving his piercing brown eyes visible through the narrow slits. His fingers accessorized in hand made green and red jade rings.

The room is filled with tension as his courtiers and advisors, who are also dressed in their finest, maintain a distance around him as they flicker their sight from him to the grand entrance of the royal palace. “Bring her in.” His cold voice slices the silence.

The doors opened, walking in was a guard gripping your arm, forcing you to walk into the room as you stumbled trying to keep up. When the guard let go of your arm, you instinctively fell onto your knees and bowed 'til your forehead touched the floor, “Your majesty.” You say greeting him with the upmost respect.

Your disheveled, covered in dirt appearance made you feel ashamed and embarrassed to be in the same room as him. You stayed down until he gave you the commanded. “Rise,” you heard him say. You lift your head up and slowly stand, eyes remaining on the floor. "Look at me."

Your breath hitched when your eyes first laid on him. The way he sat upon the throne was absolutely captivating. You always wondered who was the man behind the mask. “Why are you here?” His voice echoed in the room.

“I-I’m here to serve, Your Majesty.” You stuttered, nervously swallowing. You felt the sweat beads forming on your forehead as he intensely stares at you.

His eyes remain cold. “I was told that you were one of the few who were sold to the palace.” he said, remembering what his advisors told him.

You nodded. “Yes, Your Majesty,” you answered him, feeling your heart pounding up to your ears. “I’m all alone, as I have no family. They told me to either work at the palace or face a worse fate.”

He stays quiet, studying you for a moment before speaking. “My last servant was removed for incompetence,” He said, feeling the color of your face drain, not liking where this is going. “You are appointed to be my new personal servant.”

You widened your eyes, hesitant before speaking up., taking a small step forward. “Your Majesty, I’m afraid that I do not know how to perform such task properly. I'm afraid I cannot-”

An advisor twisted his face in disgust cutting you off. “You dare question the King’s judgement? You should be ashamed of yourself. It’s an honor to serve the King.” His voice dripping with disdain.

Your mouth parted as you looked at the advisor, "N-No," You looked back at the King gasping as you quickly dropped to the floor, bowing down as you felt your heart sink. "No, Your Majesty, please forgive me. I just-“

“Such insolence will not be tolerated.” The advisor cuts you off as he takes a step forward to you, waving his hand around.

“Silence!” You heard the King yell, making everyone flinch at his voice booming within the room. He glared at the advisor who shrinks under his stare as he moves back to his spot, looking down. “Let her speak." He said fed up with the advisor interrupting you.

The King sighed, trying to calm down his frustrations. "She has acknowledged her shortcomings and is willing to change it. I will give her the opportunity to prove herself to me that she is capable.” He said looking all of his advisors in the room to which they nodded.

You felt yourself shaking in fright, breathing shakily as you had your eyes shut tightly. “Rise,” he commands you and you quickly rise up, looking at him. “Let me make it clear to you. Do make any further errors and it won’t be forgiven so easily. Understood?” he asks you.

Trust that it was a promise, not a threat.

You nodded quickly, swallowing feeling your throat dry. “Yes, Your Mastery.” You said, “I understand my responsibility and will do my utmost to fulfill it correctly.”

His eyes remained lingering on you for a moment, “Dismissed.” He said, leaning back in his chair.

The same guard from before moved from his position, walking up to you and grabbing your arm as he took you away. As you were being dragged away, you looked back and bowed at the King, having eye contact with him before looking forward.

He doesn't know why but there was something about you that had captivated him within minutes. He stared at you, watching you being dragged away until the main doors shut close.

______

After the audience with the king, the guard guided you to where you’ll be living from now on. It was a small, modest house that was right outside of the royal palace but still within the boundaries that separates the place grounds and city. Something interesting to note was that the King’s chamber window was in a clear view of you.

After you finish settling in, you went outside to take a moment to admire your surroundings. The house was nestled by a gentle stream that makes a melodic tranquil noise as the water flows by. Bright lanterns that are strategically placed alone a path and around the house that casts a beautiful yellow glow. Watching the petals of the cherry blossom trees, that are boarded around giving a sense of privacy, fall down as the wind shakes them.

You closed your eyes, turning to where the wind’s direction feeling it blowing through your hair as you take in a deep breath, smelling the nature around you. From afar the King watches in secret not knowing why he was watching. His thoughts were unreadable.

You opened your eyes, feeling a strange sensation of being watched. You turned and viewed the window, thinking someone is there. You could’ve sworn you saw a shadow but once your sight adjusted nothing was there, just the curtains being swayed by the breeze.

In the room the King had quickly stepped back, feeling a bit panicked. He gained his composure before slowly peaking his head out the window, trying to catch a glimpse of you again, but alas you went into the house.

____

The morning sun was starting to peak in as you inhaled and exhaled a deep breath, calming your nerves as you approached the King’s chamber door. You ran a hand down your black robe, a red dragon design outline on your right shoulder, trying to straighten it out before raising your hand to the door, gently knocking. “Your Majesty,” you called out. “I have arrived to help with your morning preparations.”

His deep voice rang muffled, “Come in.” You opened the door stepping into the dimly lighted room as you saw him sitting on a small cushioned bench by the open window, giving you his back. His posture up straight as his hands rested on his thighs.

“Be warned,” he said in his cold authoritative tone causing you to freeze in your step. “My mask will be off as you fix my hair. If you so much attempt to look at my face, you will be punished by death.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” You say, feeling your throat hitch. You make your way to him, hearing the creak of the wood in every step. You’ve heard about the consequences of seeing the king’s face, many have fallen to them. You’ve heard about people sneaking in to see his face, or coming up to him to rip the mask off.

For the longest time, there has been a standing tradition for royals, in this kingdom, to wear masks to ensure their protection and to keep their identities hidden, that includes their name as well. The name chosen for this king was Dragon. It was to symbolize his power and aura.

As you approached, your eyebrows furrowed at the sight of his back. Deep, and some faded, rooted scars were etched across his back. What caught the most attention was one that ran from his right shoulder across the lower back. You couldn’t help but to feel empathy, heartbroken even. Who could do such a cruel thing?

Nonetheless, you kept your composure. You grabbed the brush, ready to start with the preparations. Feeling your longing stare of his back, he shifted slightly in his seat. “Are you ready to begin?” He asked with an underlying edge but stayed calm.

You cleared your throat, “Yes, Your Majesty.” Your hands moved with gentleness as you stroke his beautiful silky black hair. Each pass was tender, smooth as you were able to detangle without any discomfort. Your hands moved skillfully, slow trying to avoid any abrupt movements.

Diving his hair horizontally, you expertly twisted his upper half of hair into a neat bun, pushing in a golden dragon hairpin as the lower part of his hair cascades down his back, tangled free as you ran your fingers through. You grabbed his mask, “Your Majesty,” calling to his attention, “I will now be placing your mask.”

He remains quiet as you gently position the mask over his face. He raises his hand to hold in place the mask as you adjust the strings behind his head, making sure it’s completely secure but not too tight.

When you finished with the mask, you had accidentally grazed the big scar with your finger tip as you were fixing the bottom half of his hair. The next thing you know, he turned around with fury in his eyes, “what do you think you’re doing touching me like that?” he said with irritation hanging off his voice as he gripped your wrist.

Through the slits of the mask you saw his eyes flashing with anger and defensiveness. “Y-Your Majesty,” you say, trying to keep your composure. The death grip on your wrist was hurting you. “Please forgive me. I didn’t mean to cause you discomfort. It was purely accidental. I’m so sorry.” You trembled in your words, trying not to cry.

When he sees your genuine reaction something inside him shifts quickly. He lets go of your wrist, making you gasp at the release, and takes a step back. He closes his eyes, telling himself that it’s okay, he’s in no danger. “Just finish helping me get dressed.” His voice sounded a bit strained but controlled.

He sits back down only this time he remains stiff as a board, hyper-aware of his surroundings as if he is expecting to be attacked. He just wants this to be over with already.

Your demeanor remains apologetic and respectful as you continued with your job. With every gentle touch you gave, he would tense at it. You felt so much remorse, but not much could be done. You take a step back once you finished, “Your Majesty, I have finished.” You bowed slightly.

“You may go.” He said, still giving you his back. You walked to the door, reaching for the handle but hesitated. You turned back wanting to say something to ease the tension between you two, but you knew it wasn’t your place. You bowed once more and left the room.

When he heard the door close, he hunched over leaning his arms on his thighs to support his weight. His mind started racing with all these conflicting emotions, feeling like he can hear people talking to him, sounds from battles—everything was talking over him. He yells as he looses control, ripping his mask off and throwing it to the wall.

He breaths heavy, looking at the mask that split into two from the impact. The once silent room was suddenly filled by his faintly, anguished sobs as he falls to his knees feeling defeated. He hated how damaged he was inside and outside. The loneliness took over him as he cried all alone.

______

After that whole disaster, you barely saw him today. You figured he was occupied with his work, not really needing you. It was later in the evening and here you are in the laundry room. The fire on the torch illuminated the room as you worked on his clothes.

You paused for a second, using your arm sleeve to wipe the sweat beads on your forehead before going back to scrubbing the brush against the clothes. Slowly, your washing subsided as the memory from earlier creeped in.

Dropping the brush into the bucket, hearing the clank, you sighed. "How could I do something so stupid," You threw your face into your hands, feeling ashamed, embarrassed. "On my first day, nonetheless."

You rubbed your forehead, staring at your wrist. The adrenaline that was running in you in that moment must've suppressed the full pain because you didn't think your wrist would've bruised up. You moved your wrist around, feeling it just a bit achy.

You shook your head, trying to forget the interaction as you went back to work. "Can't change the past." You tell yourself as you stood up, stretching your neck and back. Your surprise he didn't kill you in that moment considering what he told you the day before.

You bent down, grabbing a wooden basked full of wet clothes by the handles and stepped outside. Feeling the evening breeze, you inhaled the fresh air. You walked to the clothesline, dropping the bowl near your feet, grabbing some clothes and wringing them of the excess water, making sure nothing is soaked up.

As you were placing the clothes and adjusting them to spread out to evenly dry, a young boy who was barely in his teens approaches you. "M-Ma'am," he said nervously as he fumbled with his hands, "The King is asking for fresh garments immediately." he said.

You smiled at him, trying to ease his nerves. He must've been sold as well, so young. "I'll go right now." You say as you finished hanging some clothes, grabbing the now empty bowl and leaning it on your hip for support.

You watched as the young boy nodded and ran away. You looked back at the clothes, checking to make sure everything was okay before gathering fresh garments and heading up to his chambers.

—

As his door came into your view, you started to feel your palms sweaty. Your heart was racing with the memory of this morning. When you arrived you raised your hand, hesitating to knock. When you did you heard him say to come in a few second after.

When you walked in, you saw him standing near the window, his silhouette highlighted by the moonlight, making him look so ethereal. "Your Majesty, I have your fresh garments."

He turns around with his mask on and nods, acknowledging you. You headed to his bed, separating each piece of clothing in an organized manner. You bit your lips, in concentration as you made sure the shirts and pants were laid down flat. “Is there anything else you need- oh!”

You yelped in shock, placing a hand over your chest when you realize that he was standing closely behind you. You let out a breath, “I’m so sorry. I did not see you there, Your Majesty.”

But he stays silent, looking at your wrist tilting his head to the side as he reaches out and examines it. You felt your heart racing when he looks at you, “Did I do this?” He asked and then looks back down, turn your hand over to see the bruising.

You gulped in nerves, slightly taken aback that he was concerned. “I-Uh-“ You fumbled with your words, afraid to tell him the truth not wanting to get him upset. “No. No your majesty, I accidentally-“

His eyes stared into yours, his eyes reading don’t come up with a pathetic lie. “Answer me truthfully,” he cuts you off, your wrist still in his hands. “Did I cause this?”

You bowed your head, sighing in defeat. “Yes, Your Majesty.” You looked back up at his eyes, “But it was not your fault. I mistakenly touched you so I deserve it and any other punishment you might give.”

Behind the mask, sorrow was written on his face. His eyes flashing with regret for a slight moment before returning normal. “I-…. I apologize.” The words felt so foreign on his tongue. “I did not mean to hurt you.” He doesn't know why he is apologizing, let alone even concerned for your well being.

Your mouth slightly dropped as you blinked a few times. Did you mishear him? “No. You do not have to apologize. It was all my fault, I reassure you.” You said to him. “I should’ve been more careful.”

First day on the job and you had the king acting like this? He has no idea who, what, why, or how you have a way to make him feel things within him. Never in the years he’s been living has he ever apologized. So what makes you so different?

You two shared a moment before he cleared his throat, releasing your wrist gently. “Just be careful in the future.” He looked away, feeling uncomfortable with the energy in the room. You watched as he walked to the window, “You are dismissed.” He turned his head to the side to tell you before looking back out.

You bowed, “Yes, your Majesty.” You turned and quickly left the room, gently closing the door as you leaned your back on it letting out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. You raised your wrist that he held, still able to feel his touch as your felt your heart doing leaps.

Meanwhile in the room, Yeosang was looking at his hand trying to remember the softness of your skin. His mind was running with a million of questions but the main one was; Who are you to be making him feel out of character?

—

It has been weeks now since that interaction with the King, and to say he has been maintain his distance from you is an understatement. Yes, you are his personal servant, yes, you two communicate a lot but even in the same room as him he feels so far.

Yeosang made it a mission to push these feelings, I guess you can call it, to the side. He never showed concerned for your bruised wrist, but he won’t lie that it pained him a bit when he saw you wincing in pain when you did a sudden movement or when it was in the healing stages how the yellow looked frightening.

He never showed any further signs of compassion or concern. Just his normal cold self and commands with the same detachment. You have seen the side of when he gets angry at his advisors during meetings or when they arrive with bad news or when they mess something up. There are times you flinch at his voice when he yells at them. Don’t even get started when it comes to his army. The physical torture he puts his men through to get stronger is not for the weak. But do not think for a second that he is not participating, oh, he very much is.

The many times you have seen him go into practice fights with his men, to which they end up passing out with broken noses, eyes swollen, blood all over there faces as you stand off to the side, holding his robe, waiting for him to finish up. The many times you have stood in the rain watching him and his men move with practice movements in synchrony.

But no matter how much he tries to shove those feelings to the side, he can’t help it when he sees you. For example, you have become an expert in reading his body language, trying to find ways to calm him down during meetings whether it is water, or collecting paper he has thrown in an angry fit, planning the meals that will bring him comfort after a rough day or the way you stand in the rain and run to him with an umbrella, draping his robe over drench shirtless body, having a warm bath prepped for him already. Just little things to big things that add up.

You have yet to see the brutal side that you have heard. But you couldn't help but wonder, what laid behind the mask. Not just the physical aspect but the emotional part. Why did he keep his emotions in a distance. Do you think you guys will share a moment once more?

The bright midnight moon lit your path as you wandered throughout the palace's garden, deep in thought. You ran your fingertips on the bloomed roses, watching them move from the movement as you walked by them. Coming across a stone bench that was stationed in front of the fountain, you take a seat.

You looked at the statue that stands in the center of the fountain, admiring the how the the man holds the woman in a embrace full of passion as she stares at him with eyes full of love. How can someone capture such tenderness and deep affection on stone. The glow from the moon casts on the statue, making it even more enchanting.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" A deep voice rang from the side. You turned to face where the voice was coming from and you spotted a man dressed in a guard uniform.

You smiled at the man, half of his face was illuminated by the moonlight as he leaned on a stone wall, arms crossed. "Very beautiful." You say looking back at the statue then to him, "I wasn't expecting to see anyone at this hour, but I'm glad I have company."

He smirks, "Glad to be of company." He said, pushing himself off the wall. "You know," He said, walking to you, "there's a story behind the statue," he extends his hand out to you, "if you're curious."

You smiled as your gaze jumped between him and his hand. "Do tell." You said, grabbing his hand feeling some rough patches on his hand. Wow, there was no denying that this man was handsome. You took this time to take in his features.

He had a heaven painted birthmark on his left eye, enchasing his piercing stare. The way the moonlight defined his cheekbones, giving him a sharp look. His eyes, for some reason, looked familiar but also striking.

He gives you a small twirl, making your heart leap at the gesture. He places your hand on his arm as he guides the way through the garden. "Well, this statue represents a love story from many, many years ago," he starts off, "The couple were from different social classes, much of the tales of forbidden lovers."

You stared at him in curiosity, his voice entrancing. "They met in this very garden, in secret, away from prying eyes of the palace, society," He said, grabbing your arm pulling you down in some bushes, "Everybody." It was in perfect timing because a guard walks by, looking side to side making sure the coast is clear, oblivious to you two.

When he sees him out of sight he goes on, "The woman came from the royal family, a noblewoman bounded to another man," he says, holding your arms, helping you get up, "While the man she truly loved was a no one, dirt poor, mere gardener."

You're so captivated by the story, you stare at him in awe. He goes on guiding you both on the path from before, "They were so deeply in love, felt like just them two in the whole universe. But from the start..." he paused in the story, looking at you watching your eyes full of curiosity, "There relationship was cursed."

You gasped slightly, eyes widened at the sentence, "No." you said fully engrossed into the story.

The man chuckled at your reaction, liking how your reacting. "But despite all the odds that came at them, they never gave up on one another, still visiting each other in the garden." he said.

No words can describe the way your heart is feeling as you watched him passionately describe the story. He finally stops, turning you as he slowly one by one takes your hands into his, "One night they decided to runaway together." he looks down with a hint of sadness, "But fate was not kind as they were discovered. Everyone saying their love deemed a threat."

He then turns you to face the fountain, your eyes widening at the sight. "They were separated and never saw each other again." He whispered in your ear, behind you. The angle he put you in brought the beauty out of the statue in its most perfect form. The garden surrounded the statue while the full moon shined behind the figure which was breathtaking.

But you couldn't help but to feel heartbroken for the couple. "That's so tragic. I can't fathom the pain they must've gone through." you said, processing the story.

"It is," he says, getting in front of you as he smells a rose he had plucked from a nearby bush. "The king at the time authorized this statue as a tribute to their love." He said placing it in your hair, "A reminder that love can leave a lasting impact."

You felt butterflies in your stomach, seeing him now take position of the statue with the moon behind him now. He looked like he was spotlight of the garden. "May I be honored to know the name of the enchanting lady who has captivated my heart this evening?" he asks, smirking.

You felt yourself blushing as chuckled at him, "I'm Y/N," you said, blushing a bit. "And who might you be?"

He stays silent as he gives you a smile, “if you return, then I’ll give you my name.” He grabs your hand and places a tender kiss, “Until then I must take my leave.”

You felt a bit frustrated with him mystery man, but you couldn’t help but to feel excited to see him again. You watched as he walked away, “W-Wait!” You called out to him and you reached your hand out to stop him, “When will I see you again? When do I come back?”

“You’ll know.” He said as he winks at you, smirking before leaving. You placed a hand on your hip, feeling frustrated even more, “Well, that doesn’t help.” You said out loud to yourself. You then grabbed the rose in your hair and smiled at it as you smelled it, walking home.

—

Meanwhile quicken steps can be heard against the floor as they made steps to the King’s chamber. The door opens and shuts in a hurry as Yeosang leans his back against the door, trying to catch his breath.

He then looks at the window, pushing himself off the door as he makes his way to it. He peaks out to and catches a glimpse of you admiring the rose in your hand as you sat upon the steps of your house. You smelled it once more before breaking out into a smile, feeling a giddy inside.

He watches you get up and head inside for the night. He sighs as he moves to his bed and sits at the edge of it. What compelled him to dress up as a guard and talk to you in such ways he never imagined he could do was beyond him. You captured him and he wants to figure out why he had fond feelings for you.

He feels a sense of anticipation, wanting to see again but as himself as Yeosang, not as the King. You consumed his thoughts. From the way you touched him with tenderness to the way you carry yourself with effortless grace. He laid down on the bed, looking up to the ceiling. "What am I doing?" he spoke to himself.

—

The soft sunlight casted on your skin, your eyes squinted as the sun shines brightly while you walked alongside the King and his guards, roaming around in the city. You took in the scene before you as vendors called to bystanders to try out or look at what they were selling. The sound of children laughing and running as they played with their friends through the crowds while the rest of the town-folks went about their day.

You then spotted a couple who were laughing together as they held hands, looking at the stalls full of jewelry. It reminded you of the mystery man from the garden, that you have yet to see again. Partly because you have just been so busy with your responsibilities and you’ve just been so exhausted.

It has been a couple of days since you last saw him, hopefully he doesn’t think anything bad of you since you haven’t gone back. You can’t help but let out a soft chuckle when you picture him telling you the story. “Something on your mind?” You heard the King ask you making you jump out of your thoughts.

Yeosang had noticed the way you stared at the couple, making you lose yourself in thought. He matched your pace in walking so he can spark a conversation. “Oh,” you smiled, “It’s nothing, Your Majesty.” You tell him, shaking your head.

“Interesting.” He said, as he waved back at the people who bowed and waved at him. Despite his cold demeanor and angry side, he truly cared for his people, wanting to ensure the best for them. “This nothing has you smiling.”

You bit your lower lip, biting back a smile as you felt butterflies in your stomach. “Yes indeed.” You say softly, looking down. “He does.” You whispered that part yourself but Yeosang heard it. He felt his heart flutter at your words.

The silence takes over you two. Still lost in your thoughts, you fail to notice children, who sneakily ran through the guards to approach you. You felt a tug on your shirt, causing you to look down, “Hi there,” you smiled, kneeling down to their height, “how can I help you?”

They looked at each other giggling then back at you, handing you a toy inviting you to play. “Oh, wow!” You gasped in admiration. You looked at the King who nodded his head in approval. “Stay with her, keep her safe.” The King ordered two guards who stood by you as you played with the kids. You couldn’t help but to smile as you played with them, taking in this moment of happiness.

Yeosang went ahead, looking at the stalls, seeing what the vender’s were selling. He then sees a table full of beautifully crafted hairpins, captivated by the designs and gems gleaming as the sun shines over them. When he approached, he saw the owner, an old lady, struggling to get up to greet him. “Please.” He held his hand up to stop her.

She smiles as he bows as best as she can, “Your Majesty,” she said softly, adjusting herself in her seat. “It is an honor. How may I serve you?” She asked, gesturing at her table with her hand.

He doesn’t reply just yet. Instead, he gazed at the variety of hairpins laid out in front of him. He can tell that each piece was delicately and intricately made. “These are beautiful.” He spoke as he looks at her, “Did you craft them yourself?”

She hums at him, smiling. “Yes, all handmade your Majesty. Thank you.” She watched as his eyes roamed all over until his eyes landed on a beautiful red rose hairpin. Behind the mask, his mouth opens in awe as he grabs it, examining the beauty of it. This is the one for you.

It was the perfect replica of the rose he gave you that night. He then turns to look at you in the distance, watching you tickling the kids as they fall into your embrace, full of laughter. He’s mesmerized at how your beauty shines more when you laugh. Behind the mask, he smiles at the sight of you.

“My husband use to look at me like that.” The old lady said full of warmth and nostalgia as she looks between you and him.

His eyes widened as he turned to look at her in shock, “W-What do you mean?” He said, stuttering feeling as he was caught red handed. Was it that obvious?

She chuckled gently, “Your Majesty, forgive me,” she said leaning forward causing him to lean in as well, “No mask can hide the eyes of love. Not even the coldest exterior can conceal what the heart truly feels.”

He lets out a low laugh, which makes the old lady be in shock before laughing with him. The cold king can laugh? “There is something about her that calls to me.” He tells her, feeling happy he can let this out of his chest. “Thank you for your wisdom and courage. Not many can talk to me in that way. It’s rare to find someone who can see so clear.”

He hands her the pin. “I would like to purchase this one.” He tells her and she grabs it as she wraps in a red handkerchief. “How much will it be?”

She shook her head, holding her hand out to stop him. “Free of charge. Anything for you, your Majesty.” She hands it to him, smiling.

“How much is it-“

“Young man-“

“Young man? You know I am the King, correct?”

“I am older than you. Respect the elders, correct?” The woman hits back at him. No one would ever speak to the King like this but he likes how she treats him as if that’s her grandson.

He tilts his head to the side as if saying try me as he extends his hand out signaling for his guard to give him the pouch full of coins. He places the pouch on the table, pushing it closer to her. “All yours.” He said, smirking behind the mask.

She looked at the pouch and gasped at the kind gesture. There was no way she felt comfortable taking that amount of money, “Your Majesty-“

“Please. You work so hard, you deserve it. Besides, it’s been a while since I was scolded like how my grandmother did. You remind me of her.” He said as he tucked the handkerchief away in his robe, making sure it’s safe.

She bowed and repeatedly thanked him as he walked away. He walked to your direction, watching your rise up from your feet, dusting off the dirt from your pants and hands as the children scampered off. Your face radiating a glow from the brief interaction with the kids. “The children really enjoyed your company.” He chimed in as you walked alongside him, feeling a huge shift in his demeanor, seeming more relaxed.

You looked at him with a smile, fucking some hair behind your ear, “Oh, they were just delightful.” You said, “I enjoyed spending my time with them.”

“It was a beautiful sight.” He mumbled to himself, looking ahead.

You furrowed your eyebrows at him, “I’m sorry your Majesty, did you say something?” You asked him.

He shook his head and let the silence take over once more. You didn’t question him. But behind the mask he was sweating bullets. Did he really speak his thoughts out loud?

—

It was getting late, deeming it time to go back to the palace. The King had mentioned it to the guards that it was time to leave, but in reality Yeosang has been wanting to see you again in the garden, in hopes of giving you your gift.

Just as you all were about to leave, a sudden commotion erupted. Everyone within the group froze, turning around quickly to examine what was happening. You see fellow townsfolk staring at where the sound was coming from but soon shifted to them running away as a group of masked men dressed in black charged through the stalls.

They were jumping on the stalls, smashing goods, overturning stalls in their path—panic was surging quickly as the crowd started to push one another to leave the scene as terrified screams radiated from them. You frantically looked around, watching people pass you as the guards tightened the circle around the king and you.

You felt the once relaxed demeanor shift into a protective one as the King grabs your arm, holding you close behind him. His eyes darkened when he sees the incoming masked men, “Y/N,” his voice rang in your ears, “stand behind me.”

You nodded, trembling in fright. “Yes your Majesty.” The sounds of the swords unsheathing made you more into a nervous wreck. Soon enough the king’s guard stepped into action, hearing the clashing of swords as you heard yelling from both sides.

One assailant stepped up to the king, which instinctively caused you to take a step back, trying to rip the King’s mask off his face. Your eyes widened at the action making you gasp as you covered your mouth with your hand.

The king was faster than him. He sidesteps, grabbing the man’s stretched out arm, giving it a twist and forced it upwards. A nasty pop sounded in his arm causing the man to scream in agony. Yeosang shoved him to the floor, turning to fight another attacker.

Without hesitation, he leaped into action using hand to hand combat skills, bringing down enemies. The precision and strength he had was able to tackle many of them down, one after another. You slowly backed away from them, scared to be caught up in the middle.

You then bumped into something, causing you to turn around to see an assailant, tilting his head side to side, almost as if a snake in trance, wondering what he is doing to do to you. You wasted no time turning to run away, but he was fast. He grabbed a fist full of your hair as he dragged you down to the floor, dragging you by your hair.

You held your hands onto his wrist, screaming in pain as your scalp burned. “Let me go!” You yelled at to him as you tried slapping or punching his hand. He roughly lets go as he gets on top of you, backhanding you causing you to slightly lose your consciousness as you felt the corner of your lip bleed by the impact.

You looked to the side, seeing the king fighting as your vision gets blurred. You then feel the weight of the attacker on you as he placed his hands on your neck, starting to choke you out. “Please..” you whispered with whatever breath you had left.

You clawed his hands in struggled desperation. Panic surged through you as your vision blacked out little by little as your fighting is subsiding slowly. Amidst in his own fight, from the corner of his eye Yeosang saw what was happening to you. His heart was racing when he saw your hands drop, closing your eyes. Something within him exploded at that sight as he quickly dispatched the guy he was grapping with, twisting the man’s neck as he killed him.

Yeosang takes out a blade he keeps hidden within his robe and in a swift motion and precise throw, he hurls it to the back of the head of the attacker. He watched as the attacker stiffens and then falls on top of you as blood spews from the back of his head.

Yeosang quickly runs to you, shoving the man off of you as he holds you in his embrace. “Y/N,” he said, tapping with some force on your face to wake you up, “Come on, wake up, wake up,” his voice trembled with fear, “please, Y/N. Wake up..”

You then shot your eyes open, gasping in shock as your hands shot out keep pushing the man off of you but he wasn’t there anymore. Your throat felt raw and burned as you coughed. You felt a hand on your face causing you to jump in fright as you shoved them off of you. “Hey, Y/N it’s okay!” You heard a familiar voice. “Y/N, it’s me.”

You looked at the king in fright. “Your Majesty-What-,” you cut yourself off as you looked around, “What happened?” You asked him as you looked down at your blood stained clothes and the dead body with the blade behind its head. “Oh my god.” You gasped as you looked away.

“Look at me, Y/N,” the King helps you up as he cups your face, “You’re okay.” He reassured you as you nodded at his words, feeling dizzy as you tried looking into his eyes. “It’s over. It’s over.” He cleans up your fallen tears, you didn’t even notice you were crying, with his thumbs. “It’s over.” He tells you once more.

His guards were able to take control of the situation. The danger was finally over, but the encounter had left a mark on everyone. “Call for more guards, we are going to clean up this whole mess, aid those who got hurt. Imprison all the assailants, I’ll handle the rest in there.” He told his guards, his eyes never leaving your face as you looked at your surroundings. In unison bowed, giving a strong yes sir.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” He said as you nodded at him as you walked back to the palace, hand placed on your back as he guided you. He’s going to take care of you right now, forget the responsibilities you two hold right now.

—

The dimly lit prison was heavy with tension as the sounds of the assailants muffled whimpering, groans of pains filled the ears of everyone in the room. You watched as they trembled in fear, faces now in display with swollen, bloody, beaten up features as all the mouths were gagged with a black cloth while others cold dead on the floor.

You said that you never saw the brutal side of the king tonight was the night that changed everything. Surrounding the room were the palace guards that were holding stern faces, barely illuminated by the flickering torchlights as they stood in the position of attention. You stood in the middle, up against the wall away from the king and the prisoners, watching how he slowly removes his regal robe as he approached the weapons table.

You swallowed nervously, looking down feeling afraid of what he’s going to do next. He dropped his blood stained silk robe on the floor, reaching for a rag on the table to dry off his hands full of blood. His back scars on display for everyone to see. His arms reach over to grab a knife, getting lost in thought as he moves it around, watching it gleam from the light.

You slowly lifted your gaze at him, watching him drop his arm, standing still as he stared ahead to the wall in front of him. His eyes flickered with void, behind the mask his expression was darkening, feeling the surge of anger coming over him. His people were in danger— you were in danger. He could never live with the fact that he let you get hurt.

“I’ll ask again,” his deep voice rang in the room causing the prisoners to whimper in fright. “Who sent you?” He turned around and faced them, causing them to widen their eyes in terror as some had tears falling down.

As he walked closer, the whimpering grew louder, a desperate plea for mercy. Some shook their head in disbelief as others begged with a muffled cry. Yeosang takes calculated movements, watching them as if they are his preys. You gulped as you watched this new side of him take over him.

You let out a shaky breath when you see him kneeling down to one of them, using the tip of his knife to raise his chin to look at him in the eyes. “You,” he said. “Things will go smoothly if you just comply with me. Who sent you here?”

The man shook his head as he tried speaking through the cloth that covered his mouth. “Shhh,” he hushed the man as he lifted the knife to the cloth, shoving the knife underneath it and he cut apart letting the man speak freely. “Speak.” He demanded.

“P-Please have m-mercy on me.” The man cried out to him as he bowed his head. Yeosang just laughs in his face. “Mercy?” Yeosang repeated, with a wicked smile behind the mask, “Mercy you asked of me? When you attacked my kingdom?”

The man whimpered when Yeosang drags the knife down from his temple to his jaw, not too deep but enough to draw blood, “Please, your majesty forgive me.” He pleads with him, closing his eyes tight in fear.

“Okay.” Yeosang said nonchalantly, looking at him with darkness in his eyes. The man parted his mouth in disbelief as he looked at him with widen eyes, “O-Okay?” He questioned. Yeosang placed a hand on his chin for support as he shrugged, nodding his head, “Okay.” He confirmed.

The attacker let out a breath of relief, guard coming down. Yeosang took the chance to jab the knife into his throat causing you to look away as if you’re going to throw up. “All is forgiven.” He said as he watched the knife slide out the man’s neck as he drops to his side, blood oozing out.

You closed your eyes as you heard the man struggling to breathe. You felt tears dwelling in your eyes, wanting to leave this place. You inhaled a sharp breath as you looked back at the king, feeling scared when you see the king stand up in frustration.

The king has been going at this with hours and nothing has yet to come. His patience, as you can tell, is wearing thin at this point. “Maybe we should try a new question?” He said as he flips the knife in his hand. “Which one of you is the leader?” He asked, pointing the knife at them.

The men shared panicked glances, but not daring to snitch on who it is. Yeosang’s jaw tightened, feeling angry again. But he tried to not let it affect him as he carefully looked over at the men, stopping at one who is particularly shrinking in his spot as he looked down, shaking a bit side to side.

Yeosang approached him as he grabbed a fist full of hair and yanked his head up to face him as he knelt down in front of him. “It’s you, isn’t it?” He tilted his head. He removed the cloth from his mouth but the man was too afraid with fear caught in throat. Holding the knife to his jaw, “Speak. Or should I slit the answer out of you?” He asked pressed the side of the knife into his neck.

“No, wait!” The man spoke out with widen eyes, “it’s him!” His eyes pointed to the man next to him which causes the man to yell at him, muffled. “He’s the one you want.” The man guided Yeosang with his elbow. “P-Please..”

Yeosang smile widens as he let go of the man's hair, standing up as he towers over the man next to him. “Finally,” The way he stood over him like a shadow of death. "Why don’t we start again, mmm?" he tilts his head to the side at him. The man frantically looks all over the room, trying to find an escape. Yeosang lets out a evil laugh that gave you chills down your spine, "Try all you want. There's no escape."

In a swift moment, he gets behind him, grabbing a fist full of hair as he pressed the knife shading the man’s throat. The man shivered as he closed his eyes pleading for someone to rescue him. “You hurt my people,” he whispered in his ear, “You hurt someone I care about.” He said as he looked at you.

You didn’t know what the king was whispering in his ear, but what you do know is that you froze in fright when he looked at you, letting out a shaky breath. The prisoner looks at you, “Don’t. Look. At. Her.” He hissed to the man as he pressed the side of the knife deeper into his neck causing the man to close his eyes as he shook his head.

The anger of him looking at you, the anger of seeing you helpless, the anger of your precious face hurt, the anger of seeing you lifeless in his arms— he loses it. He stabs the man on the thigh, dragging it upward causing the man to scream out in agony. The king shoved him to the floor as he gets on top of him, hand over his mouth, shoving the cloth further into his mouth.

“Answer me!” He yells at him as he turns on the knife in his thigh, “Who sent you?!” He asked once more as he takes out the knife and holding up against the prisoner’s face.

“-ee-in-om.” The prisoner said, repeating the same muffled words. Behind the mask, Yeosang furrowed his eyebrows as he reached to remove the cloth from his mouth. “Lee Kingdom.” The man breaths out, his chest heaving, “The Lee Kingdom sent us here to harm you.” He confused as he gulp, trying to moisten his dry throat.

Yeosang froze as he watched the man confess, the words processing in his head. He slowly stood up with the knife in his hands. You watched as he stood over the man, the lights shining on his sweaty body as he gave you his back, watching it rise from his heavy breathing.

The Lee Kingdom, how could he forget for a second? For years these two kingdoms have been at war, fighting for ownership of respective lands. He scoffs in disbelief, shaking his head as he looks down. He should’ve known this attack was park of a larger scheme orchestrated by them.

There was a moment of silence before he spoke. “Turn around.” He commanded. Within seconds you saw the guards turn around, making you look around in confusion. “Eyes.” He said. In sync PERFRCTION, the guards take out a blindfold as they wrapped the cloth around their eyes.

You furrowed your eyes in confusion as you take a step forward to the King, “Your Majesty-“

“Y/N,” he cuts you off as you froze in your step. You watched as he lifted his head, staring out the prison window. “Leave and wait for me outside.” He lifts his hands and slowly takes off his mask causing you tu turn away in fright, your heart was racing when you heard the men screaming.

The men were trying to stand up as they tried to find a way to escape, knowing the consequences of seeing his face. They know they are not leaving here alive. “I don’t want you to see this.” His voice rang through the screams as his mask dropped on the floor. You quickly ran out the door, the sound of the door closing faded the terrorizing screams.

You ran down the hall with a hand covering your mouth, feeling nauseous forming in your throat. You ran up to a wall as you placed your hand on it as you leaned for support. You felt yourself breathing heavy as you tried catching your breath. You placed your back against the wall, sliding down as you covered your ears hearing the screams.

The screams that followed a desperate pleas for mercy tugged on your chest. You knew they deserved punishment, you knew they caused harm to the kingdom but you can’t deny the fact that seeing such gruesome acts brought fear into you. Especially seeing the King do it. Each scream was more gut wrenching than the last.

You sniffed, removing the hands from your ears as the screams suddenly stopped. You let out a shaky breath as you blurred vision stared at the door down the hallway. The eerie silence makes your skin crawl as your heart pounds so loud to your ears as you slowly get up.

You take small, hesitant steps to the door but froze when you heard the door creak open. You soon see the king stepping out with blood splattered across his upper body as he puts his robe on, concealing the brutality that took place. His eyes never met yours as he walked past you with composed steps.

He heard your slight hesitation in steps as you followed behind him. He can sense how your perspective on him change— he’s now the cold blooded, brutal king everyone talks about. How can he face you now?

He stops in his steps, “Are you alright?” He asked in a gentle tone, turning his head to the side to talk to you. The concern in his voice was genuine, but his actions weights heavily on him. “I’m sorry you had to see that. But it needed to be done. I would do anything for my kingdom.” I would do anything for you, he wanted to say.

You paused in your steps. “Yes, your Majesty.” You nodded. “I understand.” You said quietly.

He inhaled and exhales as he turns to fully face you now. His expression behind the mask softens instantly as he sees your scared state. He sees your bruised up lip and slowly gets close to you. You controlled your breathing as you see him approaching. Slowly he grabs your chin to turn to the side to examine your lip but you jolt back as the flashback him holding the knife up to the man’s chin flashes in your mind.

You gasped as you looked away. You then looked back at him with your head bowed. “Forgive me. I-I don’t know why I did that your Majesty.” His heart felt a slight pang as he dropped his arm, slouching slightly in sadness.

“No, it’s okay.” He said gently, looking down. “Clean up your lip and be careful with your neck. There are a few bruises.” He said pointing to his neck. He sighed as he turns around, walking away from you.

“Go home and rest for the night, I’ll handle the rest tonight.” He said raising his hand to give a small wave. “Take care of yourself please.”

You bowed as he walked away, “Yes, your Majesty.” You stood up and watched as he disappeared from the hallway. You sighed as you started walking to your house, reliving the whole day in your mind.

When you entered your house, you walked up to a mirror looking at the state of your face. Your eyes red and swollen from crying, your lip slightly bleeding but your neck is what shocked you the most. Your finger tips run over the hand prints on your neck as the flashbacks of the attacker on top of you pops up in your mind.

You sighed as you shook your head, trying to forget it as you walked to your window. The moonlight peered in as you approached it, looking up to the king’s chamber window only to find him standing there already, gazing out to the moon.

Your heart leaped when he looked down, catching you looking at him. You slightly jumped back but gave him a small wave and a smile. He nods as you before stepping back and closing the curtains. You leaned against the wall, still looking at up at him. Behind the darkness, there is a beautiful soul within him.

—

The next morning, you headed to the palace. You beat the sun in rising as you see the golden hues peaking over the stone walls that surrounded the palace. "Good morning," You were greeted by one of the usual guards, "The king wishes to be alone today." He gives you a small sympathetic smile as he took in the injuries in your face.

You were taken aback, "Oh," you felt slightly sadden that he does not need you today, but you understand why he needs his solitude. "Thank you for letting me know." You said as you looked down at the clothes you brought him, "May you hand this to him?"

"Of course." The guard said as takes it from your hand. "If anything changes, we will come and get you." He said as you nodded and bowed, leaving the scene.

You gnawed on your lower lip as you walked away. You truly wish you can speak to him about yesterday and to apologize once more from jumping away from his touch. You wonder how he is able to cope with the weight that carries, wishing there was something to do to ease the pain.

The day was a blur as you were preoccupied with other responsibilities. You held hope in your heart to be called by the king but nothing. The sun began to set as the sky was painted with hues of pink and orange while you walked to the garden.

The peacefulness of the garden was slowly becoming your safe haven. It was a place where you can escape from all of weight of your stress. You take a seat in the familiar stone bench, your thoughts swirling around in your head as you sighed.

"I thought I was never going to see you again, beautiful." You heard a familiar voice say with a tinged of amusement. You looked at him with a soft smile tugging at your lips as you hear his words sinking in.

You rose from the bench as you walked to him, watching his expression change, "I'm so sorry. I have been overwhelmed with my resp-"

"Who-What-," he cups your face as he examines it cutting himself off from his shock. You winced slightly from his movements, feeling your neck hurt. "Are you okay?" he asked looking deeply into your eyes.

You gave him a small smile, "Yes. Do not worry. I'm okay, I promise." You say as you held onto his wrists, looking back into his eyes.

His face holds sorrow as he looks at you. His eyes holding a familiar gaze, "I'm so sorry." He apologizes, but you tilt your head to the side, "What ever for?" you asked him.

"I'm sorry this happened to you." He said as he leans his forehead against yours. "I should've been quicker." He says closing his eyes, remorse in his tone.

You furrowed your eyebrows, "What do you mean?" You asked him. You felt him freeze for split second, but relax as he opened his eyes. "I mean that I should've gone quickly to the king's aid when I heard about the news of the attack. I didn't know you were there." He said clearing his throat at the end.

Your close your eyes with a sweet smile, "Please, it is okay. I promise you." you tell him, trying to ease his worries. "I'm just happy to see you again.", you opened your eyes looking into his.

"Me too," he whispers with sincerity as he looked at you in memorization, "Me too." He grabs your hands, interlocking his with yours. "So tell me," You say changing the topic, "What story do you have for me today?"

He chuckles as he walks backwards, pulling you with him. "Well, can I show you something?" He smirks, "I think you're going to like it." He turns around, guiding you with one hand now.

You bit your lower lip, feeling a smile forming on your face. But then you stopped, "Wait," you tell him. He turned around with furrowed brows with a head tilt. "You promised your name." You crossed your arms at him, smirking.

He chuckles as he looks down, taking a step to close the distance between you two. "Yeosang," he says looking up at you, "Kang Yeosang." He feels a huge weight coming off his chest now that he gave you his true identity. His true self.

"Yeosang," You repeated, making his heart flutter at how you say his name. He extend his hand out and you happily take it. It had been years that he has heard his name and he was happy that it was you to say it for the first time in a while. "Lovely name Kang Yeosang." You two laugh as he keep guiding you.

You two laid on the grass, hearing the sweet sound of the stream flowing by as you stargazed. Your eyes twinkled in admiration as you looked at far away lights with your head laying on his chest, arm draped over his stomach. Yeosang has one hand supporting his head behind him, as the other was wrapped around you, holding you tight in his embrace.

He felt like he was dreaming in this moment. There was no way the woman he admired was now in his embrace. He wishes he could stay in this moment forever. "The stars are beautiful tonight," he heard you say as you snapped him out of his thoughts. He hums in agreement.

You closed your eyes as his heartbeat and the stream make music to yours, "How did you find this place?" You asked him, opening your eyes to look up at him.

He smiles at the memory before speaking, "One day, my work was getting to be too much. I felt overwhelmed so I sneaked out and stumbled into the woods, wanting to be alone, wanting some peace and quiet." He looked up at the stars as you stared at him in admiration. He remembered the time he was starting as king, the advisors all surrounding him, talking all at once and showing him paper works, as he tried focusing everything at once but he just exploded at them to leave. He later on snuck out of the palace and into the woods.

"Yeosang," You called to him. Oh, he can hear you say his name everyday, until he dies. "May I ask you something?" You asked him as you turned onto your stomach as you rest your chin on his stomach.

He smiles at you as he ran his fingers through your hair, "Ask me anything." He told you as your heart fluttered at his actions.

You smiled, sitting up, seeing your hair running through his fingers tangled free as his hand dropped onto his stomach. "How come you became a guard?" You asked, wanting to get to know him better.

He stayed silent, remembering when he was ascended to the throne. He remembers the weight behind the crown, the responsibilities of ruling a kingdom, how he has to hide behind a mask for the rest of his life, all the scarifies he made— He sat up slowly as the thoughts suffocated him. "I became a guard because," he paused for a moment, "because it was a duty that fell upon me to take."

He remembers the difficult trained he endured that was specialized just for the King. Those scars on his back were from the time he was told to stay still while they beat him with sticks or whips to build up his pain tolerance. The many times he had to stand still in harsh weather environments to build up his immune system- the battles he was in as he remembers losing some of his men and the nightmarish screams.

"There comes a time in life when you're called to step up to take a heavy role you might not have chosen for yourself." He continues as you placed a comforting hand on his. He smiles as he interlocks his hand with yours, "For me, it was about protection and guidance, ensuring welfare and safety of my people— like the kingdom in general." He swallowed nervously, thinking he had exposed himself.

He thinks about how countless lives that depend on him everyday, putting a great amount of stress on him. "Knowing that you cannot afford to mess up because your next moves can impact countless lives," he looked at you, "It's daunting, but a privilege."

Your heart feels heavy for him when you hear him finish the story. Your thumb caresses the back of his hand. You sensed that there is more behind his words, but you didn't want to push further. "You're incredibly noble, Yeosang. It must be a hard burden to bear." You tilted your head in sympathy, "You must've given up so much."

He smiles as he looks at your interlocked hands, "We have burdens," he thinks about when he first became king, swearing to protect his people, "but how you carry them out defines who you are." he said looking at you.

You nodded in agreement. "Thank you Yeosang." you say, "Thank you for sharing with me. I know it must've taken a lost to share so I appreciate it."

"No thank you for listening." He smiled. He turned his body completely to face you adjusting himself as he gets closer to you, "Now, enough about me," he said, "Tell me about you."

The way his eyes were filled with interest, made you look down a bit self-consciousness, "Oh, there isn't much to say." You chuckled, "I don't think I have an interesting story like you."

His expression softens, casting a faint knowing smile that plays on his lips as he stared at your black robe with the red dragon outline. "Well, judging from the dragon on your robe," he nodded with his chin, " I would say otherwise."

Your mouth parted slightly in surprised as you looked at the dragon on your robe and back at him. He chuckled at your reaction, "The symbol isn't just given to anyone," he said answering your thoughts on how he knew, "The dragon represents trust, loyalty, and a deep connection to the king himself. You were chosen to serve in a position of great importance. The alone say a lot about who you are."

"Oh, I did not know that." You chuckled sheepishly "I guess I never thought of it in that aspect before." You said, looking at your robe, "I've always seen it as my responsibility. My duty. Something I was chosen to do."

He smirks at you, "And that's exactly why your story is worth telling." He pauses for a moment, kind of hesitant to ask, "How did you end up at the palace?" he asked, softly.

You glanced down, sadness taking over, "I, um-" you cleared your throat. "When I was young I lost my family. It was hard, honestly. To be a child who grew up in the streets, surviving on scraps, struggling to find a place to sleep-" You paused feeling an overwhelming of emotions coming in.

He raised your hand to his lips, placing gently kisses on it, "Please, don't worry." He comforts you, "Take your time." He said softly as he looked into the tears dwelling in your eyes.

You nodded as you inhaled and exhaled. "No child, or human, should go through the struggles I went through. I know my education and knowledge is not top tier— as you can see from how I did not know about the robe. As I got older, I was able to do get by by doing small tasks for people. Then one day, marches in the king's guard," You say as you remember that day. "They mentioned that they were offering food and shelter in exchange for a life of service." You chuckled softly when you remember how quickly you ran to offer yourself.

"It wasn't much of a choice honestly." You shrugged at him. "It was either go with them or continue to struggle. And well, here I am." You tell him. He stares at you in memorization, he is amazed by the strength you have. "Wow," he said in admiration, his eyes twinkling. "You're... incredible." He breaths out.

You laughed at his reaction, playfully shoving his arm. "No, no. I'm not. Just someone who is trying to survive life." You saw, downplaying yourself. He shook his head, "You are so much more than you think." He said.

After a few minutes, he clears his throat. His eyes roam around," S-So how is it working for the King? It must be hard at times, no?" He then shoots his eyes back at you, making you laugh. To say that he was nervous and terrified of your answer was an understatement.

"Well," you take a deep breath in and out. You took a moment to think about your answer. "Where do I even begin?" You thought out loud as you looked up to the sky. Yeosang scratched the back of his head as he sits up straight, trying to calm himself down.

"It's very.. complex." You began, carefully thinking of your words, "There are days I feel overwhelming weight of my responsibilities, but there are also the moments when I feel privileged to be in the position I'm in. But serving him isn't just a job, it's about being there for someone who carries the whole kingdom on his shoulders."

He stays quiet as he listens. You put a small smile on your face, "The king... he isn't just a ruler to me. He's someone who cares deeply for his people. He's someone who has to make the difficult decisions with their best interests at heart. I've seen him at his most vulnerable, seeing him make those tough sacrifices every day."

Your voice softens further as you look at Yeosang, "I see him in a different light contrast to how people see the worst in him. People think that he just rules with iron fists, with no emotions but they couldn't be more wrong. Behind closed doors I've seen him carry the weight of the crown, the burden of every choice he makes, every life he's responsible for. He may not show it openly, but he cares more deeply than people realize."

"It's not that he lacks emotions," You say, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, "He's just learned to hide them, guard them well so to protect himself from the vulnerability that comes with showing them too much. There's strength in that. Being able to withhold so much and keep going."

Yeosang was in awe of how you spoke of him. He looked down as he felt tears in his eyes, "You see the humanity in him, don't you?" He asked in a low voice.

"Yes, I do." you nodded your head, "That's why I'll keep serving him with everything within me. If there is anything I can do to ease his burdens, I'll do it. Because I believe in him for who he is, not as the king everyone sees."

He looks up with a tear streaming down his face, "I apologize," he chuckled, looking away wiping his face, "Those words spoke to me deeply."

"Oh, Yeosang," you cupped his face, making him turn to face you as you wiped his tears away with your thumb, "Don't be sorry. It's okay to let yourself be human. Maybe you relate to the king in some aspects, mmm?."

He just laughed, nodding at you. If only you knew, "Yes, maybe." He said leaning into your touch as he placed his hand over your hand that cupped his face.

Since that night you have been seeing him quiet often at night in the garden. You two enjoyed sneaking around the night shift guards, hiding in bushes or behind stone walls as you two stand chest to chest at times, or how stargazing has become a things between you two, or the random sweet talks you have when walking to his secret place, or enjoying a childish act like throwing water to each other from the stream.

As each day passes, you two grew closer and closer. There was one special night where you two laid next to each other, moonlight casted on you both as you looked into each others eyes. Soon you saw Yeosang leaning in causing to flutter your eyes close, raising your eyebrows in shock when he kissed you. You both opened your eyes when he pulled away. He then sits up and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer to you. He hovers over you as you two returned to kissing passionately.

Let's not forget how your house is filled with bouquets of flowers he makes every time he sees you from random bushes or the flower field you two pass by in the woods. He always walks you home and hands you the freshly made bouquets before kissing you good night and leaving. You feel completely over the moon when you see him and you realize you are falling deeply in love with him.

And here you are once again, walking into the garden, seeing him sat upon the bench. You smiled mischievously as you sneaked up behind him. Yeosang, who was trained to spot noises from miles away, knew it was but wanted to give you a chance to scare him.

You covered his eyes. "Guess who?" You smiled as you felt him stiffen up but then relax in your touch. "Oh, wow, this is hard," he smiles when he hears you giggling. "Might it be," he pounders for a second, "the woman who has my heart?" He asks, causing you to laugh as you remove your hands, taking a seat next to him.

"How did you know?!" You gasped in a fake surprise tone. You placed a kiss on his lips. "Mmm, it was a wild guess." He tells you as you leaned your cheek on his shoulder, looking up at him.

"How are you doing?" You asked him, eyes twinkling. "Much better now that you are here." He smirks as he places a hand on yours. "I wish we could stay here forever." He whispers to you.

"Which reminds me," You say nervously as you played with your hands, looking away from him. "I wanted to ask you something. I-Is there a reason as to why we only see each other at night? How come you never stay longer with me?" You asked him. "Are you afraid to be seen with me?"

His eyes widened at the last question. "What? Why would you say that? That is not the reason at all." He grabs your chin and turns your face to look at him. He sighed, "My love, you know that I have my guard duties that take up my time during the day. And since we sneak around at night, I get worries we will be caught." His thumb caresses your cheek.

You nodded, looking down. "You're right." You tell him. "I apologize. I don't know why I let my thoughts get to me." You chuckle sheepishly, trying to ignore the pang of sadness forming in your heart. You want to be able to be a couple in peace. Like those that you saw in town. To be able to showcase your relationship freely.

His heart breaks, watching your emotions changed. "How about I spend the night with you?" He asks, his mouth speaking faster than his thinking.

You cleared your throat, "Huh?" Your eyes widened. Why are you acting so shocked, isn't this what you wanted? "Oh- I um-"

Yeosang holds his hands up, trying to stop your thinking. "Oh. N-Not like that-"

You let out a sheepish smile. "Oh- okay, I was just-"

"I mean, unless you want to." He cuts you off again. He widens his eyes, "No- wait- It's your choice, but I just wanted to sleep with you." He shook his head as he slapped his forehead in embarrassment. "I mean I want to lie with you." He shakes his head and throws it back frustration. You make him so nervous. "I mean-"

You stand up, "Yeosang," You cut him off with a smile. You extended your hand out to him. "Come with me." He chuckles at himself as he grabbed your hand.

The silence had a comfortable feeling as you two lied in bed together. You two faced each other as you looked into each other’s eyes all mesmerized as he had a hand cupping your face. “Thank you for staying the night.” You say softly as you smiled.

“Thank you for letting me.” He said smiling back at you as his thumb caressed your thumb, causing you to close your eyes in delight. He chuckled lightly, “Are you tired?” He asked you as you nodded. He lays on his back, arm open for you to come into his embrace, “Come here.” He tells you.

You blushed, feeling butterflies in your stomach as you get closer and feeling him warm embrace enclosed around you. His heart was racing, feeling as if he can die in peace now. “Good night, Yeosang.” You tell him as you adjusted your head on his arm.

He leans over and gives you a kiss on your forehead, “Good night Y/N.” He leans his head back onto the pillow as you two drifted to sleep. How he wished he could stay in this moment forever.

Early in the dark morning Yeosang slowly opened his eyes. He had to get back before the sun rises. He looks down at you, gently removing you from his embrace. He watched as you shifted slightly in sleep, groaning a bit before getting back into a deep sleep. He chuckled as he turned to your table, taking out a red handkerchief and note.

He looks back and presses a kiss on your forehead before slowly backing up and quietly leaving your house. On his way to the chambers he can’t help but to smile knowing that he shared such an intimate moment with you.

—

You heard the birds chirping, your nature alarm. You groaned when you felt the sun peering into your room as you held your hand out to block the brightness. You turn your head to the side to see if you spot Yeosang but he's not here. You sat up and looked around, rubbing your sleepy eyes, “Yeosang?” You called out to him, but he was no where in sight.

You pouted knowing you weren’t able to say goodbye. But maybe you’ll see him later on tonight. You sighed as you removed the covers from your legs as you stood up, stretching your neck as you prepared the clothes for today, seeing as you have busy day with the King as he has meetings.

You then walked to the kitchen to prepare some tea but was stopped when you saw a red handkerchief and note on the table. You furrowed your eyebrows as you tilted your head, “What is this?” You asked yourself as you picked up the note.

It reads, To the woman who captured my eyes, my heart, my soul there are no words to describe what you make me feel. Out of all the roses in the world, you bloom the most beautiful. This pin represents the beauty you bestow. - Kang Yeosang.

The warmth of his words made your heart leap as you smiled at the note. You placed it down as you grabbed the handkerchief, slowly unraveling it. You gasped at the sight of the rose hairpin. You grabbed it, letting the red cloth fall to the table.

You sighed out a gasp as you moved it around your hand. You turned and quickly walked up to your mirror as you adjusted your hair and slide in the pin, turning your head to the slide to admire it. Oh yes, you really love this man.

Here you are in the grand room of the palace as you stood behind the King, dressed in a red robe with a black and gold dragon outline on your shoulder with your new rose hairpin on display. Your eyes scan the room that was filled with the advisors, military leaders, and other high ranking officials. The atmosphere was tense, thick with the weight of important decisions that yet to be made.

Throughout the meeting, you stood by him, watching his body language shift in different emotions. The discussion today was about the plan on the up coming war with the Lee Kingdom. You felt knots of fear forming in your stomach as you tried to keep your feelings at bay. You watched how the men in the room yelled at one another as they voiced their opinions on what they should do or what they assumed was a horrible idea.

Many tried to speak for the king which only made things worst. Everyone in the room flinched and went quiet when he heard the King slam his hands on the table, standing up. "Why must you all handle this which such incompetence." His low voice rang. You gulped, wondering what his next actions were.

"General," He calls to him. The General sits up straight, "Yes, your majesty?" He said clearing his throat, trying to make his voice sound strong and not in fear. "Gather all the men tonight. Start their training at dawn. They must be prepared for what is to come." He looks up at the men in front of him. "We are going to showcase the most historic bloodbath known to man. We will make them regret ever attacking our kingdom."

They all nodded in silence. "Everyone is dismissed." He says. With that everyone stands up and bows in unison. The king walks pass you, looking out the window while everyone leaves the room. When the door closes, he lets out a sigh, feeling exhausted and burnt out.

"What is troubling you?" He asks you, sensing your uneasiness. Well, what weren't you thinking of. You were internally freaking out about this war, about how many guards were going, is Yeosang going to be one of them, what if he were to get hurt, what if he were to die, what if- "I sense something is disturbing you." He said turning you, approaching you with his hands behind his back.

You held his gaze slightly caught off guard by his direct question. "It is nothing, your majesty." You shook your head masking your emotions. He tilts his head, a way of saying don't lie. You sighed in defeat as you looked down. "I'm just afraid of this war. The many lives that will changed. The people we might lose." You looked at him, "Are all guards going? I-I just want to make sure you'll be safe." Not a lie, but you want to know if some are staying behind.

His eyes lingered on you almost as if he's trying to see pass the walls you put up. He stays quiet for a second before breaking it, "We will be sending majority of the guards. Some will be staying behind in case of anything." He gets closer to you, "I know this meeting was unsettling to you, but rest assured that I do not intend to lose." His tone softens up.

You gave him a small smile, looking down and back up at him. "Of course, your majesty." You return the soft tone. "I believe in you."

He nods, turning around. "Very well," His cold self returns in a matter of seconds. You were use to it already. "You are dismissed for the day. I will handle everything else from here." You bowed as he walked out the room.

After a few minutes, feeling as if he was already away from the sight, you quickly ran out the room to the garden in hopes of seeing Yeosang.

—

You felt the world spinning as you ran all over the palace trying to find Yeosang. You shouted his name, hearing your voice echoing his name throughout the halls, but there was no response. An overwhelming sense of fear was coursing through you.

Your search led you to the garden as you frantically turned your head looking for him. The wind was blowing roughly, making your hair fly as it created a harsh hum in your ears, hearing some leaves rustling by. You let out a choked sob as you hugged yourself, feeling sadness consuming you.

What if you don’t see him before he leaves? What if he was already shipped for training? What if he doesn’t come back from the war? What if— “Y/N?” A voice snapped you out of your rushing thoughts.

You gasped as you turned to his voice, feeling your heart leap in relief at the sight of him, “Oh.” you say as you run to him, trying to ease yourself.

Yeosang’s expression softened at the sight of you as he opened his arms to embrace you. He kisses your temple as he hugs you tightly, “My love,” he lets go as he goes to cup your face, “What’s wrong?” He asked you in a gentle voice, the sight of you broke his heart.

“Yeo-“ you cut yourself off with a sob as you held onto his wrists. “Yeosang, please tell me you aren't going..” You shook your head as you looked into his eyes. "Please tell me." You cried out.

He sighed as he leaned his forehead against your, closing his eyes, “My love—“

“No, no. please don’t.” You cut him off, not wanting to believe it. “Please, just stay. Stay with me." You sniffed. "Let's runaway. Let's just get out of here before it's too late." Your voice broke out into a whisper.

His eyes had tears dwelling in as he looked into yours, using his thumbs to clean the fallen tears. “My love,” he said as you whimpered in sadness at the name, “I would do anything to stay and be with you,” your eyes held on for tiny bits of hope, but it was shattered, “but I must go.”

You removed his hands from your face as you sighed turning around in frustration. "My love. This is something I have to do. I cannot just stand by and do nothing." He tells you, trying to grab your arm but you yank it out of his grasp.

He takes a step back at your actions, eyes widening. You stare at him with angry tears streaming down your face, "Why not?" You asked him. "Why you? Forgive me for being selfish, but why not anyone else? Why must you go and someone else gets to stay?" He stays silent. "What if I lose you?" Your hand clutched your chest, feeling your heart being crushed.

He sighed as he takes a step to you, cupping your face, "No. Don't say that-" He shakes his head.

You sobbed. "What if you don't come back to me-"

"Stop it." He cuts you off with a serious tone. "Look at me, please." He begs of you. "You will never lose me. I promise you, I will come back to you." He kisses your lips to calm you down.

You imagine about him not coming home after that promise. "Don't make such promises. What if something-." You close your eyes, sniffing.

He smirks, tilting his head to the side. "What? You think I'm weak? I feel quite offended that my woman thinks I am not capable." He jokes with you, trying to lighten up the mood.

Even in a situation like this he knows how to make your heart flutter. Even in a situation like this, he knows how to make you smile and laugh. You let out a soft chuckle as you shoved his chest playfully. "I will come back to you. No matter what." He places a kiss on your forehead.

You looked at him as you nodded. "Okay." You say quietly. "I-" You say, cutting yourself off, feeling nervous. "I love you."

His mouth parted slightly in shock. His eyes moved between your eyes and lips as he leaned in and kissed you. He kissed you as if tomorrow does not exist. "I love you too." He said between kisses, making you melt in his touch. "More than you know."

—

And that was the last you saw of Yeosang. That day he told you he would be gone for training. How long? No idea. Would you see him before he leaves? Much less. You really tried your best in not letting your emotions show but it's so hard. The king even notices the change in your demeanor, how you have been delaying his commands or making small mistakes you don't normally make.

When he asks you what the issue is, you just tell him your scared for this war. Which is not a lie. You are terrified of this war, of what will happen to Yeosang, or the king, hell, even the kingdom if we lose. You don't mean to doubt the strength of your king, but you just simple cannot help it right now.

You were tending to your responsibilities one afternoon, helping out with supper that will be packed up for the in-training guards. That is until one of the king’s guard came up to you, halting your actions. “You are needed in the king’s chambers,” he said causing you to look up at him, “Immediately.”

You stood up from your seat, removing your apron, “Yes.” You said feeling your heart racing with confusion and anxiety. “I’ll be on my way." You quickly abandoned your position as you hurried throughout the palace.

The sense of urgency in the guard's voice made you uneasy, wondering what had happened that the king needed you so urgently. You paused for a moment to catch your breath, swallowing to moisten your dry throat, when the sight of the doors came into your sight.

You wiped your hands down on your robe, fixing yourself before approaching to the door. You looked at the two guards who gave you a nod, signaling to enter the door. He steps to the side and opens the door for you.

You inhaled and exhaled, feeling your heartbeat in your ears with every step. Your eyes scanned the room and found him standing near the window, watching how his hair and opened top robe gently swayed from the wind. You took in his nightly robe, all silky white with a black dragon outline in the back.

The doors closed behind, letting you speak in private. "Your majesty," You say as you walked to the center of the room, "You summoned me? Is everything alright?"

There was a silence in the room before he inhaled and exhaled, “I was thinking about you.” he said causing your eyes to slightly widened. “And I was thinking that,” He pauses as he turns around to face you, mask still on his face. “you deserve to know the truth.”

Now you are just confused. You furrowed your eyebrows as you tilted your head to the side. “What do you mean your majesty?”

He takes a few steps forward, still maintains his distance. “There is something I must say," He pauses once more, looking down, " but I’m afraid of your reaction.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, taking one step forward, "Your Majesty," your tone comforting, "You do not have to afraid with me. Please, whatever is troubling you, tell me."

He stares at you. “I don’t think that I can hide from you any longer.” He said making you tilt your head in confusion. “H-hide? What would you be hiding from me that you’re afraid of how I’ll react?” You asked him.

He walks slowly to you, closing some the distance a tad bit more. “Do you trust me?” He whispers to you, looking back and forth at your eyes as he stops in-front of you.

You nodded, “Of course. With everything within me.” You reassure him. You watch as he slowly raises his hand up to his mask, fingers gripping at the edge of it. Your eyes widened as your breath hitched before completely turning around, "Your Majesty." His title coming out reflexively, as your tone was filled with shock and fear.

The room was filled with nothing but your shallow breaths. Your heart was pounding up to your ears, terrified at his actions. "Please," you heard his voice tremble with vulnerability, something that was unheard of from him, "Look at me." he begged of you.

You shook your head. “With all due respect your majesty,” you gulped nervously, “I- I don’t think I can. Why-Why are you doing this?" You stuttered at him as you frantically looked all over the floor, feeling shocked with his actions.

You jolted when you heard the thudding of the mask as it fell to the floor, feeling your heart racing even more. Is this a test of trust? "Y/N, please look at me. I promise you it is okay." You heard him say as he gets closer to you causing you to gasp as you covered your eyes with your hands.

"Your majesty, I don't think this is right." You felt your chest heaving, feeling beyond terrified of the consequences. "We mustn't. For your own protection."

There was silence- only your heavy breathing can be heard. You weren't sure as to why he would do such a thing to you or why he would even bother trying to show you his face. This must be a test, no doubt. You stood still, waiting for his response as you still covered your eyes.

He sighed as he looked down, "To the woman who captured my eyes, my heart, my soul," He spoke in a low voice. You froze. Slowly you dropped your hands from your face as your eyes widened in disbelief, your mouth parted in shock. "There are no words to describe-," his voice broke in sadness, "To describe what you make me feel."

Slowly, hesitantly you turned to face him. A trembling hand covered your mouth as you took a step back, "No.." You whispered at the sight. You felt the in coming tears burning the inner corners as you blinked in doubt.

"Y/N," he said your name causing you let out a gasp. The way he says your name- it bring you back into the fact that this is reality. This is real. . "I'm so sorry I kept this hidden from you." His eyes carried rawness, reflecting the vulnerability he had been hiding behind the mask.

You shook your head as you said no like a mantra as your hands held your head as you looked around the room as if you're going crazy. "This can't be happening." You spoke your thoughts out loud. You watched as the king—Yeosang— take a step forward but you took a step back, “No! Stay away from me.”

“Y/N,” his voice broke as he sniffed, “Please let me explain.” He said as he took another step forward, cupping your face. “My love-“

“My love?” You repeated in disbelief as you shoved his hands off. You stare at him with anger in your eyes. “Do you have any idea what you have done?” You asked him as you watched tears streaming down his face. “I trusted you-“

“My love, I know-“ he cried in sorrow and regret, coming close to you again but you backed up once more.

“How could you do this?” You clutched onto your chest, feeling your heart break. “How could you do this to me? To us-” You looked at him as a shiver went down your spine, realizing that you are looking at him. “A-Are you going to kill me?”

His mouth parts in shock as he stares at you in disbelief, “Why would you- No. No, I would never, ever do that to you.” He lets out a sob as he gets closer to you once more cupping your face. “Y/N please just give me a chance to explain myself. Let me prove to you that I am still the same man you know, despite the title I bestow. I’m still the same man who is deeply in love with you.”

"Your Majesty-"

"To hell with the that. It's Yeosang," he cuts you off. "Yeosang." he repeated, holding your face to look into his eyes. You stayed silent as you looked into his eyes that was full of desperation. He leaned his forehead against you, "Let me explain my actions please. I beg of you." He pleads with you. All you were able to do is nod, watching him let out a shaky breath of relief.

"Y/N," He begins, "From the moment my eyes laid on you, I knew my world was never going to be the same. Time slowed and all the noises in my head faded away when I was with you. I felt human again. I felt alive." He grabs your hand and places it on his chest, "You feel this? My heart beats for you. I would do anything for you, Y/N." He spoke from his soul.

"I portrayed myself as a mere guard because I couldn't risk it if they found out about you while I was in my king attire. I couldn't risk losing you. Yes, I know," he said as he watched you looking to the side, crying as he cupped your face to look at him, "I should've said something but I was afraid. Afraid of being caught, afraid of how you'll react, afraid of everything while doing this risky thing. Y/N, I have done things that haunt me at night but when I am with you they disappear. I wanted to know the real you and for you to know the real me."

He wipes your tears with his thumb, "I'm so sorry for pain I have brought upon you. I'm so sorry for making you fall in love with me, I'm selfish I know. But I, too, fell in love with you. Before I went off to war, I needed to tell you, no matter the outcome of me. Believe me, I never wanted to hurt you." He finishes as he hugs you tightly, pressing a kiss on your head.

You cling onto him as the words he spoke sink into you, crying into the crook of his neck. You felt torn apart with the love you had for him and the reality of your circumstances, "Why must you go? Why must a war happen in order to have peace?" You cried out to him. You removed yourself from his embrace as you looked into his eyes, "Even if you do win the war, you and I will not win. They will never let us be together. They will tear us apart- They will send me away." You whispered as your voice broke, "You're a royal. I'm nobody. We can never be."

"That doesn't matter," He shook his head, "I will-"

"Doesn't matter?" You repeated as you sniffed. "Look at what they did to the couple in the garden." You reminded him of the statue. "We are just like them. If it happened to them, it will happen to us."

He felt anger coursing in him. He takes a step back and kneels in front of you making your gasp, "Yeo-Yeosang, what are you doing? Get up. You don't have to do this." You say as you walked to kneel down with him but he puts a hand out to stop you. The sight of a powerful king kneeling in front of you felt surreal.

"If getting on my knees proves that I would do anything for you, then so be it." He said looking up at you. "I love you. You are the reason I am able to keep going. Your status or my status means nothing to me if I don't have you. I can lose everything and I can live with that but if I lose you-" He clears his throat as he looks down, cutting himself off. "I wouldn't be able to live. To hell with what people say."

You fall to your knees as you lift his face in your hands as you placed a gentle kiss on his. He exhaled as he felt your soft lips. "Yeosang," You say when you pulled away, "I have discovered so much with you. You taught me the meaning of true love, an emotion I never truly felt before. Words cannot describe the immense joy you have brought into my life. To be in this lifetime with you is blessing. I have deemed our love to be the richest thing I have ever owned in my life." You gave him a small smile, "But I.. I need time to understand what this means for us. For me."

He removes your hands gently from his face as he brings them to his lips, placing gentle kisses on them. He closes his eyes as tears streamed down his cheek, nodding. "Of course, my love," his voice barely a whisper, "I understand."

You felt as if a rock had crushed you as the days leading up to the departure neared. There was no doubt in your heart that you loved Yeosang. But you were afraid of how the advisors would react, how the people of the kingdom would react. You would rather stop the relationship between you two then to be sent away, never seeing him again.

Here you are in his room, dreading that it is the last time you will see him in a while as it is departure day. You were summoned by him, of course. He stood in front of the mirror, mask off now, as he watches you through it, seeing how you walked back and forth from the bed to him.

He watched as you handled his armor with care, placing it on him with a gentle touch. He closed his eyes delight as he felt your hand through his hair. He opened his eyes to take in your features. The way you bit your lips in concentration, how you furrowed your eyebrows- even with his intense stare, you moved with practice precision.

You turned around to place some accessories on the bed and turned around only to slightly jump back seeing him stand there. He smiled at your actions as he placed his hands on your arms. You gave him a small smile as you lifted your hands to fasten the straps of his armor adjusting the plates to ensure they fit well. As you finished with the last piece, you hesitated for a moment, your hand lingered, slowly gliding it down to his chest.

You looked into his eyes, taking in his features as well. Admiring everything you loved about him. "I brought something." You say the breaking silence, "I want you to take this." You reached in your robe and grabbed your rose hairpin he gave you. "I wanted you to think of me." You gave a sad sheepish smile.

You grabbed his hand and placed it as you rolled his fingers to grip it well. "I'll keep it close. I will carry you in my heart." He said placing it inside his clothes. His hand take home behind your neck as he pulled you closer to him.

"You better come back to me, Yeosang." You said with heaviness in your heart. A deep rooted fear inside you as you think this might be the last time you will see him. You felt a lump forming in your throat as you felt his thumb caress your lips. "Please."

"No matter what happens," He said looking into your eyes, "I will return. Besides," He gave you a playful smile, "You think I am weak?" He asked as he tilted his head.

You chuckled as you playfully hit his chest, softly. "Keep that smile for me." He said leaning his forehead on yours, running a his thumb over your lips. "Everything is going to be okay."

He looks into your eyes for permission before looking at your lips, asking for one last time. You held onto his shoulders as you two shared a passionate kiss. Feeling his hands roaming the curvature of your back, pulling you in, wanting to feel you tightly against his body. You melted into the kiss as your hands snaked down to his biceps, gripping at them as you held on for dear life in this heated kiss.

You two pulled away, panting as you tried catching your breath. "I will come back." He says.

The sun casted over the city as people from all over gathered to watch the king and his army departure. You stood among the crowd, crossing your arms as you heart felt heavy knowing what might or might not unfold as the wind blew in your hair. Everyone then falls in silence as they see him appear on a beautiful majestic horse, dressed in his armor and matching mask.

His presence commanded attention, eyes fixed on him. "My people of the Dragon Kingdom," his voice cut through the stillness of the morning, "Today we march, but not just for our defense of our land, but for the future of our people." His eyes roamed the crowd as he took a pause. "This path that is ahead of us is fraught with danger. I know many of you may have fears and doubts. But trust in me when I say the commitment I have to our kingdom and it's people is unwavering."

His continues to gaze over the assembled crowd until it landed on you, remaining his sight on yours when he says, "We will face this challenge together," He said. You knew he meant it meant more than the war. It was also about your relationship. "I will return, not just as your King but as someone who carries the hopes and dreams of each and everyone of you within him."

The crowed roared in excitement, cheering for their ruler as they jumped and threw fists in the air. He straightens his back as he takes in the roars of the crowd. His eyes scanned one final time before looking at you once more. You mouthed I love you and watched as he nodded before lifting the rope to turn his horse. He gives his men a command as they yelled yes in unison as started marching.

You watched as they walked away, feeling a sense of sadness and pride. The crowd around you slowly starts to disperse as you watched the last of the soldiers disappearing from view, making you the only that stood there. You inhaled and exhaled remembering his words. "Everything will be okay."

Weeks have past since the departure and the absence of the king and his army hung over the entire kingdom. The usual liveliness and bustling of the daily life was replaced by this harsh silence in the palace. Like many others, you were trying to grasp this new reality. You would often find yourself wondering the garden late at night, not bothering to be caught.

You would walk into his chambers to keep things dust free, switching the bed sheets in case of his arrival at any moment. You would run your hands over his clothes, missing his warmth. At night you would run your fingertips over the note he had written you, or how you would fall asleep with the note clutched to your chest as you dreamt about him.

You would walk into the woods and stargaze alone, hearing the stream fill up your mind with tranquility. You wished upon stars every time you visited, wishing for protection over him and a safety return. As each passed you feel yourself going through a mixture of emotions that range between hope and lack of faith that everything will be okay.

One morning, you heard a pounding on your door causing you to jolt up in your bed. "Miss Y/N, the-" You stood up quickly as you ran to door, not hearing what the person was saying as it sounded muffled. You opened the door and saw a fellow palace worker with a smile on her face. "The King and the army is back!"

You stood in shock as your eyes widened at the news and in perfect timing, the bells rang signaling the arrival of the king. Never in your life have you gotten dressed so fast. You rushed to town, hearing the gravel underneath every step. You scanned around as you saw people forming a crowd quickly. "Excuse me. Sorry! Coming through." You repeated as you passed through and stumbled to the front of the crowd.

Your heart flutters at the sight of the army marching in with Yeosang in the center as he looks bloodied and hurt. The crowd roars with cheer as they seem approaching into town. You see as the palace workers rush to tend to the army and your feet didn't stop you as you ran to Yeosang. You watched as they helped him off, taking his first steps to you all wobbly causing you to grab his arm, placing it over your shoulder as you became his support while you two walked. "I told you I would come back." He whispered with a tired voice as a lazy smirk painted on his lips behind the mask.

You dumped the bucket full of warm water, lifting your arm sleeve as you placed your arm inside to check the temperature. You removed it shaking your arm to remove the excess water, "All prepared for you." You say as you turned to him and gasped when he removed his mask. "What are you doing?" You whispered at him as you tried moving the mask back to his face.

He moves your hand away and cupping your face, eagerly kissing you, "I missed you." He whispers to you, kissing you with so much love that you melt in touch. But you break the kiss, looking back the door, "Someone can walk-"

"I'm the king. No one will touch that door unless I say so." He cuts you off, thumb caressing your cheek. You gulped at how those words made your knees weak. He kisses your forehead and smirks at you, "I'll call you when I am done bathing."

You sat up straight when you heard Yeosang calling your name from inside the room. You knocked and heard a gentle come in. Your heart was beating up to your ears when you see him standing, giving his back to you as he adjusted the pants around his waist, tying up the strings.

Your eyes then capture the red scratches, bruises that was marked all over his body. He turned around with a smile but slowly dropped when he saw your teary eyes. His eyes followed your sight as he looked down and saw the the markings. He looked back at you, giving a small smile, "It's okay." He tells you as he walks to you.

A surge of emotions rushes to you as you choked back a sob as you covered your mouth, "My love," He cups your face, "Look at me," He tells you centering your face to look into his eyes, "Please don't cry. I promise you I'm okay."

You sniffed. "How can I not be saddened at the fact that you got hurt?" You say as your fingertips roam his arms, your eyes looking at his bruised stomach. "Your pain is my pain." You sniffed.

He stays silent as he takes a step back, eyes locked on yours. You watched as he turns around, head turning to the side, "Can you..." he pauses, inhaling and exhaling, "Can you touch my back?" He asked you in a whisper.

Your eyes slightly widened at his request. Your mind flashes back to when you accidently grazed it. "I won't hurt you." He said, "I promise." You were still for a second before slowly taking a step forward. You raised your hand, hovering over his back. You exhaled as you gently placed it on his back. You feel him stiffen up as he let out a shaky breath feeling your hand roaming his back, tracing his scars, finger tips grazing the bruises.

"When I first became King," He said with a slight tremble in his voice. He was trying to replace the the brutal touches with your delicate ones. "I had to undergo brutal training. One of the training methods was to not let pain affect me during a fight which involved getting beaten with a stick." He explains to you and you gasped in shock. "In order for me to succeed, I had to stand still. No reaction."

Your hands froze as tears streamed down your face. "My father thought it was a method to show endurance, resilience, and emotional control." You shook your head as you leaned your forehead on his back, placing your hands on his waist, sniffing. "A horrible way to get you to detached you from physical discomfort. One day my father got tired of me failing and took matter into his hands, causing the scar across my back."

You placed a sweet, lingering kiss on his back. He drops his head and you feel his shoulders shaking. You moved in front of him as you lifted his face to look at him. "I'm so sorry for all the pain you endured." You tell him as you two shared tears. No one spoke a word as you two fell onto your knees, you hugged him tightly as he cried into your chest as you comfort him. "For as long as I'm here. I will do all I can to protect you." You tell him as you ran your hand through his hair.

For the first time in his life, Yeosang is no longer crying alone. He has someone he can lean on. He has someone.

After the moment you two shared, you had helped him get dressed for the night of celebration. You stood along side him as he sat upon his throne. The atmosphere was different- townsfolks were singing and dancing amongst each other, some clanking wooden cups as liquor spilled out as the laughed, beautiful music coming from instruments. Everything felt right. Minus one thing- what will become of your relationship.

But it's as if your thoughts were heard when you watched Yeosang standing up, raising his hands as the festive energy momentarily hushed down. "My people," He spoke, "Tonight we celebrate those who fought bravely in battle." You watched as people raised their cups. "As well as the end of conflict of hundreds of years. From here on out, this is a new journey for our kingdom. Throughout this voyage, I have discovered many things."

He looks at his advisors who offered a subtle nods of encouragement and approval. "It is with a full heart that I must share with you all," His gaze returns to the crowd, a smile on his face behind the mask. "I have fallen in love with a beautiful woman." The crowd erupts with surprised gasps and whisperings. "But this love is not bounded by the traditions of nobility. The woman who holds my heart is not of noble birth. She is a commoner."

You tried your hardest to not show any reaction. You licked your lips as you looked down, clearing your throat. You then looked back up as you bit your tongue to focus on that pain to try and not smile because there was no way your relationship was accepted by the advisors? How did that even happen? You watched as the crowd stirred with curiosity and murmurs. "I choose not reveal her name nor face, not out of secrecy but to ensure her safety. I know her position as a commoner makes her vulnerable and I wish to protect her from any undue attention and scrutiny."

He takes a deep breath as he continues. "The values we hold dear and the future changes we will embrace in this kingdom are inspired by the person I love. It is my hope that this will lead us to a better future where every individual is valued for who they are, not for their status."

With that finishing note, the crowd cheers for the new version of this king. They sense a positive change in him, making them radiate happiness throughout this festival. From the distance, Yeosang spots the old lady from the cart to who waves and bows at him to which is returns a nod in her direction as he turns to sit back upon his throne.

He calls to you and you bend forward, "Meet me in my chambers." and you felt yourself freeze.

Here you were. In his chambers. And to say you were nervous was an understatement as you walked and forth in the center of the room as you wiped your sweaty hands on your clothes. You then hear footsteps outside which causing you to look at the door as it opens up revealing Yeosang.

He swiftly removes his mask and drops to the floor as you two run closed the distance to each others embrace, sharing a sweet kiss. You pulled bac with a smile on your face. "I-Wha-How-" You two laughed at the fact that you couldn't even speak. "How did you even convince the advisors? When did you talk to them? What did they say?" You bombarded him with questions.

He smiled as you two gently swayed side by side in love. "Let's just say I have my many ways." Basically when the advisors were going to deny him, he went full berserk mode. He explained how he is the king and he has the right to change laws as he wished, he has the right to love whomever it was, and plus he threatened to show his face but that made everyone drop to their knees and begged for forgiveness. Maybe being ruthless came in hand for certain things. "I told you I would do anything for you." He tucks your hair behind your ear.

"That you did." You smiled at him. His eyes shifted to your lips as he leans in and captures them. Your hands snaked up his arms they tugged the back of his head, feeling this kiss starting to heat up. He backs away, "May I?" He asks you as you franticly nodded, wanting his touch again.

He kisses you again as his fingertips trail from your jaw to between your breast. The slight touch makes you gasp slightly as he undies the front of your robe. He backs up slightly, both of you softly panting from the intense kiss as his hands slide into your robe, sliding your clothes of your shoulders, feeling his rough hands on your arms.

The air hits your exposed skin, your nipples harden at the cold. He kisses you once more, his hand reaching to the back of your hair as he tugs it back, exposing more of you neck as he trails his lips down causing you to moan at the sensation of the pulling and kisses. You kicked your robe that was pooled around your feet as he guides you to his bed, his mouth sucking a sweet spot on your neck.

When the bed it the back of your knees, he gentle pushed you down as he hovers over you, "You're so beautiful." He says lowly, planting a kiss right above your nipple causing you bit your lip. "I'm a lucky man." He tells you as he starts to suck your nipple as his free hand slightly pinched the other one. Your chest heaves at the feeling, throwing your head back.

He looks up at you, mouth still latched, groaning at the sight. He lets go as his lips traveled further down your stomach, causing you to clench onto nothing. He position himself between your legs, his hands sliding up your thighs as he hooks his fingers at the side of your silky soaked panties. He took his time in taking them off, biting his lower lip at the glistening sight.

The way the moonlight made your body glow looked so heavenly. Watching how your juices shine as he peppers kisses along your thighs, inching closer and closer. You felt your eyes dilate as your mouth parts when he started to suck on your clit. He lets his tongue slide between your folds before returning to suck your clit.

You arched your back when you felt his fingers rubbing on it, grabbing his hair when he shoved his tongue in and out of your hole. "Oh." You moaned out. His fingers swiftly moved into you as he went back to sucking on your clit. "Oh, oh right there!" You moan out, grabbing the the bed sheets. You buckled your hips up, only for him to hook his free arm underneath your thigh, holding you in place.

You were a whimpering mess when he quickened the pace, feeling the slight burn of the stretching he gave you. His tongue was flattened between your folds as he moved his head up and down, soaking in all your juices. "I- oh- Please-" You couldn't even comprehend words right now.

He hovers over you, fingers still at work. "Please what, my love?" He asked you as he leans down to suck of your neck some more, trailing down to your nipple. The sensation sent you on a overload of pleasure. "I need you." You cried out between the moans. He smirks at the sight of you as he removes his fingers, quickly getting up, undressing himself.

You propped yourself on your elbows, your mind a haze as you watched him remove his clothing. He teasingly took of his underwear, eyes widening at the size of him. He walks back to you, hooking his arms underneath your thighs as he drags you closer to him. He leans down, "Are you sure you want to do this?" He asked you and you nodded, giving him a kiss. "I've never been more sure."

His eyes stayed locked on yours as he teasingly rubbed the head between your folds, lathering it up with your juices for a smooth glide in. He then positioned himself aligned with your hole, slowly going in. You gasped at the burning sensation, mixed with pain and pleasure. You gripped at arms for dear life with every movement he did. "Slowly, Yeo." You tell him. With every move, he waits for you to give the signal to move.

Once he is fully in, you stay there for a moment to adjust to his size. Feeling tears coming in from the pain and he wipes them away as he kisses your lips. "You're doing so good, my love. You feel so, so good." He praises you. "No one can make me feel how you make me feel." He kisses your cheeks, caressing your hair. You exhale, "Yeosang," You call to him, "I'm ready."

He lifts your leg, wanting to feel them both wrapped around him as his other one supports him as he hovers over you. He slowly thrusts in and out of you, groaning at the tightness around him. The way you suck in him, makes him want to lose control. Little by little the pain is gone and replaced with just pleasure.

You moan at the way he stretches you out so good. "Faster, please." You tell him as you clench around him. "Are you sure?" He asks you. "Do it." You tell him, sounding impatient causing him to chuckle at you, "Whatever my lady wants, she get's." He says as he places his hands behind your knees as he lifts your legs over you, giving you what you want.

You screamed at the new depth of pleasure this position gave you. "Tell me, how does it feel?" He asked you in between breaths. "I- Oh- So-o go-good." You try speaking out but it was no use, you were gone. You grabbed the sides on the pillows near you head as you bit your lip down, muffling your screams. Yeosang loved this new view of you, struggling to maintain your composure as your breast bounced with each thrust. "Touch yourself." He said.

"What?" You breathed out as you looked at him. "Touch yourself for me." He repeated. One of your hands let go on the pillow as you trailed it down your stomach to your clit. You rubbed yourself, jolting in the overwhelming pleasure it gave you. "Yeosang, I think I'm- I'm close-" you cut yourself off with a moan. "Me too Y/N." You loved the way he said your name in that deep tone.

He lets go of your legs, making you gasp in shock with the sudden movement as he hovers over you once more. "Finish with me, my love. I know you can do it." He tells you as you nodded, hands gripping onto his shoulders. Soon enough you felt as if a knot undid itself. You moaned out, feeling like you're seeing white from this overwhelming feeling. He leans down and kiss you as he swallows your moans, moaning into yours as as he cock twitches at his release.

Slowly he rides out both of your highs, laying down on top of you as your hands take home in his hair. Both of your hot, sweaty, sticky bodies, but you both didn't care. You felt as if you were in heaven right now.

The morning light shined into the chamber, causing you to groan as you used your hand to cover your eyes. You heard a chuckle in-front of you. You parted your fingers, looking through them and saw Yeosang sitting his bench, back leaning against wall with his arms crossed. "What are you doing up?" You asked him as you slowly sat up, bringing the sheets up to cover your chest. He stands up and walks to you, cupping your face, "I wanted to watch you sleep. You looked beautiful."

You smiled at him, "Why don't you join me?" You asked him as you pulled him towards you, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you kissed him. He smiled into the kiss, "I love you." He said. "I love you more." You responded.

He was propped up on one arm as his other one caressed your arm, watching you sleep again. He smiled brightly looking at the rose hairpin he was able to place in your hair without waking you up. He throws his arm over you and brings you closer to his embrace. For the first time in his life, he was happy.

THE END

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