#king!nai royal advisor au
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You always sit close to King Nai during important meetings. It's expected; you're the top royal advisor, after all. You've taken on more than enough suspicious glares from people in the room when you lean over to whisper something in his ear, advising him in the kingdom's matters. Nothing bothers you anymore.
Well, except when Nai subtly reaches under the table to place his hand on your thigh. He does this sparingly; he knows it twists your tongue in knots, and as much as he hates to admit it, there's a reason you're his best advisor. But sometimes he has to get you to quiet down, especially when someone dangerous is in the room. Someone who will go after you if you're both not careful.
And sometimes he'll squeeze your thigh just to see your face flush and your jaw clench. He's a bastard that way.
#king!nai#king!nai royal advisor au#yay it has a name now#uh oh#another wip#my bad my bad#trigun#trigun stampede#tristamp#writing#nai x reader#millions knives x reader#reader insert#self insert#nova writes#knives x reader#trigun x reader
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Blackthorn Creek
Author: Randombtsprincessa
Characters: Park Jimin x Reader (2nd POV)
Words: 24.1k
Genre: Beauty and the Beast AU! Fantasy, Angst, Fluff, Smut!
Rating: NC-17 ranging till 18+ during the last scene, just to be safe.
Warning: Curses, magic, violence, conspiracy for treason, heavy insecurities, imprisonment of sorts, animal attacks, description of blood and injuries, mob mentality, invasion, stabbing, falling from heights, death, marital sex, first time, kissing, fingering, unprotected sex (be careful folksies!) And a whole lotta cheese cause it’s Jimin and I love him.
A/N: The following work is part of the Twisted Fairtytales: Members in Distress for @ksmutclub I had the idea for this story sitting in my WIPS and thankfully, the project came at the perfect moment! I hope you all like it as much as I loved writing it!
A major thank you and a glomping hug to @cuziloveyou7 and my amazing best friend for all their support for the fic!
The night was chill.
Pale, gossamer links of snow knitted across the glass of the castle, the granite of the stairs seeping the cold through to the skin.
A light chatter was interrupted when the front doors thudded – once, twice and then another time.
It was late, after all; much too late for any visitors, too rude for guests to show up…
The King, a benign man, stood from his seat near the fire, guards surrounding their liege. The Queen looked up at her husband, worried but the King patted her shoulder, beckoning for the doors to be opened.
It would be rude to leave the doors barred too, of course. It could be someone in need.
He watched, curious, as his Maitre D’, Seokjin, walked slowly to the doors. His arms flung the heavy oaken doors open, a flourish to his actions.
“Welcome,” Jin spoke in his exaggerated voice, “to the Castle of Blackthorn Creek. To what do we owe the pleasure, and to whom, may I ask?”
There was silence, much too thick, much too tense to be someone in need, to be a friendly visitor.
“I am here, to see your King. Bring me to him.”
Seokjin stuttered in his vigor, an unnerved stance taking him over as he glanced back to the royal couple, a question to his eyes.
The King cast an eye to his right corner, where his trusted advisor sat, his shoulders visibly tight. Namjoon cleared his throat, a warning sound. “I will see him.” The King said instead, knowing it would be better to see what the stranger wanted.
His guards circled him, his wife remaining behind as he approached and stood behind Seokjin.
“You are in the presence of our Lord and King.” The man announced, drawing away with a stiff bow – unlike any he had performed before.
The King stepped forward, and looked at the man who stood at his doorstep. The man, in turn raised his head, allowing for the dark hood atop his head to fall back. His head was cast in shadows, the whites of the eyes visible as he spoke.
“Your Majesty, I have come from far lands for the pleasure of your company.”
“Consider the pleasure ours, please do come in. What can we do for you?” The King waved a hand, dismissing the surrounding guards as the stranger tilted his head, walking in with his head still held high. He stopped right inside the threshold, as the inmates of the house gazed with wonder and some horror at his visage.
His head was shaven, dark marks etched into the near blue-white skin of his face. His arms bore similar marks, sheathed in crimson robes that were certainly not the fashion of those times.
“Well,” The King pressed.
The stranger slowly blinked his unnerving eyes, a flash of green lighting them. “I hear tales of your kingdom, your generous reign in my homelands. I must say I am not disappointed.”
He finally turned his head to where the Queen sat. “I also hear tales of a beautiful daughter. Your little Princess,”
There was a ringing silence. Guards shifted in their positions, Namjoon and Seokjin drew closer to the Queen and the King froze. To all but the mysterious stranger’s eyes unknown, a small figure crouched at her mother’s skirts, face turned curious to the sudden tension in the air.
“What do you want?” It was the Queen who spoke. Her crown glinted in the firelight, her body clenched on her chair. The stranger didn’t look at her when he answered the question.
“I come with a proposal. I offer my hand in marriage with the Princess.”
There was another pause, albeit much less tense as movement started.
“Preposterous; she is but a child.” This came from Namjoon.
“I am willing to wait.” The stranger said coolly.
“Then you will be waiting forever. I will not give my child to any godforsaken man who happens across my door and throws around absurd ideas. You will never have my daughter.”
“I will be a good husband, and a good king.”
“My Liege; do we have permission to draw arms?” The guard closest to the King asked, his hand already drawing closer to his sheathed sword.
“Nay, no bloodshed; just throw this madman out to the snow.” The King spat, his cloak whirling as he turned to go back to his family.
Behind him, his men converged, arms raised to push the stranger out the palace gates.
Time seemed to slow as the men gathered around his form, which had straightened to as tall as he could get.
“You’ll find you’ve made something of a mistake…Your Majesties.”
A cruel smile curled his lips, hands cupping near his stomach. His large sleeves gave way, revealing the etched marks and even as they pulse green, his form erupted in green light, exploding out till it engulfed the entire estate.
The King buckled, his arms wrapping around his wife and child as the men began to shout, and darting away from whatever it was the demon man unleashed.
“Hear me, O great King; for your impudence, I place your most beloved under this curse. You will be reduced to nothing but a fixture; your entire household will be mere pawns to be used by commoners. And your daughter,” The smirk widened, finding the small girl who still hid, now visible to everyone as their horrified gazes found the young princess.
“Your daughter will be left all alone. Her beauty will now be gone, her temperament destroyed. She will be feared, loathed, a monstrosity that will live with your enchantment.”
“She is a child! You are hurting a child!” Finally, an anguished wail escaped the Queen but the wizards over spoke her, drowning her words.
“At the age of twenty and three, she will be rendered thus permanently. Not a thing but the truest of love can rescue her and break my curse. Only the one who will look past her form will win that honor.”
The light faded with the man’s silhouette, the only thing that remained in the blazing glimmer of the settling curse. Movement ceased, the fire died into its embers…
“You will soon find that I am the only man who is merciful and worthy enough.”
These last words echoes in the halls, sealing through the stone and glass until another sound replaced it.
The screams of a terrified little girl…
Time seemed to flow like water after the screams died.
Nobody took courage to go up to the Palace, find their rulers…the town forgot they even had rulers. Administration moved into common hands, spread to the citizens and the legend of the lost royal family became a ghost story.
The path to Blackthorn Creek remained abandoned, silent, and derelict.
In the town of course, the ghost story didn’t matter. Life had moved on, become busy, become full of bustle.
Park Jimin threw the doors of his father’s work room open, sticking his head in to check once on the aging man.
“Father, I’m out to the baker’s. Shall I bring back something?”
There was no answer from his father, just a distant sigh that said there was nothing that could be brought back that would satisfy him.
Jimin drew back, unable to curb his rising disappointment. There was something in the slump of his father’s shoulders, ever since they’d moved into the developing town of Blackthorn Creek that, as much as the exuberant Jimin tried, he simply couldn’t shake.
Perhaps, it was his mother’s death that took their house and worldly belongings. Perhaps it was the sinking of his father’s patent ship, causing such debt that there was no hope to pay it back with nothing to put up for interest.
The Park family had to relocate from their luxury in France to the eastern countryside, to this small place. It had taken all the merry from his father’s life.
Jimin, however, worked hard to keep his spirits up. This was a setback yes, but his father was a genius. He was sure to come up with another pitch that would work out. And even if he didn’t; well, Jimin would always be there to take care of his beloved father.
A basket in hand, Jimin cocked his hat, setting out for the day.
The town, as small as it was, was full of life around midday. The market bustled, the streets running with people and the pub was always open, till as late as it could get.
But even through the color, there were shades of grey. The cheerful Creek had one mighty legend; one of the local royals’ disappearance. There was a long winded street that was barred from the public, leading up to a small hill, behind which there was said to be the palace.
He had taken these myths with a small smile, aimed at the person trying to call for his attention with these stories.
But even he had to admit, such tales of mystique piqued his fancy in the most delightful way. France had been exciting, especially for a young man such as himself. Plucking him out and placing him in a much smaller world where things were…stagnant, did cause something of a blow to his vigor.
Jimin stopped, contemplating the bookshop that lay just at the edge of the forbidden path. He had a few books still remaining back home, left to be read – but perhaps, he could squeeze in another couple?
“My boy,” The shopkeeper chuckled at the frown on the young man’s face. “Are you done with those piles that you took already?”
“Not quite, sir,” Jimin grinned. “I might just pop by again soon enough.”
The shopkeeper gave him a toothy grin, watching the man glance in some wonder at the blocked off road. The mountains had already started to grow slick with frost – sign of another passing winter. “Here,” he said suddenly.
Jimin stuttered in his forward steps, retracing back to where the stooping elder held out a pale bound tome from the front window. “Sir,” he raised his eyes in puzzlement.
“It’s a little something special I had lying about collecting dust. It was surprising that this one hasn’t caught your eye as of yet but I’m sure you will enjoy it.”
Jimin gave the friendly man a smile, letting the soft book fall open upon his palms, sifting through the delicate pages. “What’s it about?”
“The very thing you’re so curious about; lost princesses, brave knights, curses, fairies…” The book keeper burst out laughing at the soft blush that crept along Jimin’s cheeks. “You don’t need to be coy, son. Our little legend is bound to attract someone.”
“I must thank you sir. I will return it as soon as I’m done.”
“Oh by all means, keep it. It’s better suited to your hands than the shelves in this old place.”
Jimin blinked. “That’s a generous gift. I hope I do it justice.”
“I’m sure you will. Now off with you; the market isn’t going to stay open all day.” The man waved Jimin off, returning to his shop.
Jimin found himself quickly immersed in the fantasy, the short stories of courage, chivalry, sacrifice and fire keeping his nose well buried in the musty pages as he found the daily shopping that he was required to do.
All was well, until the book was snatched out of his hands, a giggle soon to follow.
“Hello stranger.”
“Hyebin,” Jimin sighed, looking around to where the young girl had snapped the book shut decisively.
Hyebin had been the girl to whom Jimin owed most of his knowledge of the town. Raven haired, slim and tall, she was the beauty of the town, sister to one of the most renowned hunters in the nearby vicinity – Kai. He and his sister had taken over most of the social scene of the town, near to becoming the law itself.
And Hyebin had her eyes set on Jimin ever since he set foot within the pub; by proxy, leading her brother to pester him with offers of her hand.
“May I have my book back?”
Pale glimmering lips pouted at him, the book still clutched in her hands. “You never pay attention to me, Jimin. Not when you have books about,” she said.
“Of course that’s not the case.” The man said smoothly.
“It is so. What’s so special about books anyway?” Hyebin took a step further back, too quick for Jimin’s reaching fingers. She pried the book open rudely. “They don’t lead to too much around here.”
“There’s more to books than just material gain, Hyebin.” Jimin was becoming impatient – his eyes fixed on the way her nails dug into the delicate binding.
“If you say so, when we’re married; would you still pay more attention to books than me?”
Jimin dearly wanted to say that that would never happen but he settled for resignedly bouncing on his toes. “What if I read to you?”
“I’d fall asleep.”
“I see.” This time Jimin moved fast, hands grabbing the book from Hyebin’s distracted hold long enough to fall back a safe distance. “I need to go back home. Give your brother my best.”
By the time he got home, his father had put away his new working equipment, instead pacing about in the handkerchief living room.
“Father,” Jimin greeted, putting up his hat.
“Son, how…how was the day?” His father stopped marching, coming up to take the basket of shopping from him.
“Normal, had to dodge Hyebin as usual,” he muttered, making his father chuckle.
“One of these days that girl will marry you still.”
“Such a horrifying thought,”
“Then let me put you to ease.” Mr. Park put his hands on Jimin’s shoulders, making his son look him in the eyes. “There has been some development. The ship that I lost at sea, a year ago, has been heard from. I have been called to attest to it.”
Jimin took a moment to process the news, watching his father’s eyes light up with something that was fearfully hopeful. “Do you mean that --?”
“Possibly; if it is true, we can go back to our old lives again! Think of it, Jimin! Paris, France, the beautiful sprawling house that we had to give up. Your education…” The man smiled affectionately, “We’ll have to find you a lady to wed who is at par with you.”
“Father,”
“I set off tonight! It will be a day’s journey but I know you can watch over things here.”
Jimin watched as his father hurriedly moved to the door, a coat and hat finding their way on his body and his cane and horse whip clasped to his breast. “Wish well for us, my son, our lives could be soon close to change. Do you wish for me to bring you anything back?”
“No father, just you,” Jimin bid farewell to his father, watching him disappear within the small stable to gallop away.
When Mr. Park had set out for the harbor, his spirits had been up soaring in the clouds, visions of his life returning to him in his previous splendor. Now, stood at the wooden ledge, watching crestfallen as merchants, traders, moneylenders, once his friends but now…now they had gathered around his returned goods and scavenged and distributed everything among themselves.
“Your debts are clear, Park.”
“Jimin won’t have to be in debt to us anymore, sir.”
“Go back home sir,”
Just words…nothing more, no comfort found his heart when he straddled his horse again, starting the long trek home.
The horse wouldn’t gallop, possibly sensing its master’s indolence and Mr. Park was overcome with a sudden wave of gratefulness for the animal. After all, he would have to strengthen his bones; he had to deliver the news to Jimin.
The idea of disappointing his son was probably more harrowing than that of losing his wealth yet again.
At least now they were free from debt.
There was a small whinny, attracting the older man’s attention as he looked up to see which path he was on. It was long, thin, winding up a hill he had never seen before in his life.
“Hey boy, I think we took the wrong way.” He patted the horse’s head, before getting off, grabbing the reins. “Let’s find a way out.”
A few miles in, Mr. Park stopped, short of breath.
“Where in the world are we?” He growled low, ignoring the shuddering animal behind him as he trudged on when a high, pitched sound made them both freeze.
A wolf’s howl…
There were wolves around. Mr. Park was alone with no weapons and no idea of where he was. His horse let out a sound of protest again.
“Damn it all too hell,” Mr. Park quickly climbed the horse, kicking it to speed. “Take off, boy; we don’t have any time to lose.”
His ride raised back its front legs, before racing down the way they had come.
Jimin had been anxious all day, toiling in the small garden that his father had managed to build in the front of their house. Sweat had gathered his dark hair into clumps, matting his eyes so when he hear the familiar whinny of Geureum, the horse, he smiled naturally – relieved that his father was finally back home.
“Ah father, nice to –,” he turned, his smile vanishing slowly when he saw the horse alone, pawing his hooves into the dirt, snorting impatiently.
“Geureum, where is he?” Jimin grabbed for the horse’s reins, pulling it closer to soothe it. “Where is Father?”
All Geureum did was shake his head roughly, stepping back and forth.
“Can you show me where he is, huh, boy? Come on,” He slipped his foot in the stirrup, hauling himself into the saddle. “Take me to him, Geureum.”
Geureum stopped only once when he reached a huge, wrought iron gate, roses and swans intricately welded to the metal, now rusty from disuse.
Something had prickled Jimin’s hairline when Geureum had approached the blockaded hill up to the legendary Blackthorn Creek palace but the horse had circumvented it, riding up a much thinner path up.
Jimin slipped off of the horse, patting Geureum on the side. “Stay here, boy.”
And then…with a creek that echoed through the cold night, he entered the palace, walking through huge oaken double doors to find his father.
He had to admit, for a second, standing in the atrium of the castle, he was struck by how grand it must have been. The ceiling peaked, now broken in with many of the granite slabs gone, the starry night sky clearly visible. Dirt and mud had accumulated on the marble floors, muffling the clicks of his boots just a bit.
“Father,” he called loudly before cursing to himself.
What if someone heard him? He wasn’t exactly supposed to be here.
Jimin shook his head. Who would hear him? It was a deserted castle with its family long gone. There probably had never been a family; the town had probably spun a yarn to make it special to tourists.
He crept up grand staircase, sticking close to the rails.
“Father,” he called again.
“Jimin…?”
He whirled, looking around for the source of the sound. “Yes, father it’s me.” He ventured, noticing a hand slipping out from the bars of a door. “Father!” He dropped to his knees in front of the door.
“Jimin, what are you doing here? You can’t be here, you have to leave!” His father was wailing from within, his hands grasping air in search for Jimin.
“What are you saying? Of course, I had to come! Who did this to you?”
“No! Don’t you see, Jimin? It’s true, the legends, the stories, they’re true!”
“What is true? Father, tell me who did this to you?”
“The monster; there is a monster in this castle!”
Jimin paused in trying to pry the door open, widened eyes swiveling to his father’s outstretched hands. “What?”
“It’s true! Please you have to leave! It’s dangerous!”
“Father, that can’t possibly be true!” Jimin said adamantly only to be proven wrong the next second.
A roar that sent Jimin’s hair rising to its ends erupted, echoing around the cavernous halls. A heavy weight landed on his shoulder, throwing him away from the door.
“What are you doing here?”
If there was a god, Jimin had better start praying to it, he thought, cowering away from the hunkering shadow that loomed over him. All he could discern were bright yellow eyes, slanting dark pupils glaring at him and the appendage his father had left hanging out the bars.
“Jimin!” His father chose to shout at the very moment.
Jimin watched the – the – thing – rise upon its legs, prowling further in but still remaining in the dark corner. “What are you doing here?” It asked again.
Jimin blinked slowly, trying to make sense of what was happening to him. Here he was, in an allegedly cursed castle. His father was locked up, raving about monsters and now he was face to face with what appeared to be a huge animal…only, it talked like a human.
“I…I came for my father.” Jimin stuttered, trying to push himself back up.
The yellow eyes flickered, between Jimin and his father, before creeping back into the shadows. “You came in vain. The prisoner will not be released.”
“No wait!” Jimin called, shuffling to his feet as the figure began to draw back. “You can’t keep him here like this! He’s an old man, he’ll die!”
“THEN HE SHOULDN’T HAVE TRESPASSED IN MY HOME!”
Jimin froze at the sudden roar, managing to grab onto his father’s hands finally. This was real. The legend was true. The people living in the castle were monsters, cursed.
“Your…please – I’ll do anything.”
“No! He’ll stay here, locked up because he couldn’t keep his hands to himself.” The monster began to disappear.
“Take me.” Jimin took a step forward.
The figure paused.
“What, Jimin, no – no, listen, you can’t do this!” His father yelled.
“I mean it. You take me, let him go.” Every word strengthened in his throat, conviction pushing him forward till he was barely a meter away from the monster.
“You – You’d do that? You’d stay here, in exchange for him?”
Jimin met its eye. Bright yellow to Jimin’s deep brown, when it stepped finally into the small lighted part.
Coarse, shaggy fur coated a huge, lumbering form. The bright yellow eyes that seemed so unnerving were set in a canvas of a ferocious face, the fur streaked with grey and black, a huge snout for a nose and huge fangs that protruded from its mouth.
A lesser man would’ve burst a lung screaming at the horrifying sight but Jimin managed to hide his face, backing up till he could feel his father trying to clutch at the back of his shirt.
“I…I would. Let him go and you can take me.” Jimin finally said and he was proud to say that his voice remained steady.
There was a ringing moment of doubt, flickering in the golden orbs of the monster, before with a growl it raised its paw. Jimin flinched, cringing away from the blow but it never fell. Instead, he heard a dull, metallic thunk and the heavy padlock fell to his feet.
Mr. Park fell out; the door giving way under his weight and he clung to Jimin. “No, no, please, don’t take him, keep me – I have nothing to live for anymore but my son has a whole life.” His father begged to the monster but the only reply they got was a ferocious roar. “GET OUT! If you value your life and your son’s, leave; or I will kill you both!”
The monster turned on an enormous heel, stomping back into the darkness.
The tower that Jimin was pushed into had one small window, a little too high for him to reach, but he managed to hike his nimble body up till he swung from the ledge. His fingers reddened from the strain but when he finally peeked through the window, he just barely caught the end of a huge cart, led by a snorting and neighing Geureum.
He dropped from the ledge, landing squarely on his feet upon the uneven flagstone and cursed, running two hands through his ruffled hair.
“Hello sir,”
Jimin jumped, whirling around at the smooth voice that sounded nothing like the awful grate of the monster’s growl.
“Right down here.”
Jimin backed up as far as he could against the wall before casting his eyes downwards. There was nothing on the floor, soft moss growing within the cracks with one slightly buffed up candelabrum left behind.
“Hello,” the voice said again.
“Where are you? Look, I’m not scared of anything anymore so you’re doing nothing,”
“Of course not, sir, it’s me…Kim Seokjin, the…” a sigh, “the candle holder.”
Jimin took a shuddering breath, before very slowly diverting his eyes to the golden instrument on the ground.
It wasn’t very huge, just barely above average but the sweeping extensions made it seem bigger than it needed to be. Dripping wax clung to its arms where the candles stuck, the gold sheen pale yet glinting in the bare light. Just on the handle, there was an etching…just like one of a face. Even as Jimin watched, the candles lit up, making him flinch.
“Please follow me, sir.”
Jimin gulped.
“Follow you where?”
The candelabrum, to Jimin’s astonished eyes, seemed to turn on the base.
“The Mistress is installing you in a room of your own. The household doubts you want to stay in the tower.” There was something caustic about the smooth tone of the thing. It made Jimin almost bristle and refute before he looked around the tower he was put in.
It was one of the spindle shaped ones, too thin and a little rickety. The window that he had tried to peek out was the single one allowing light in and he could feel some vertigo setting in already, if the nausea was anything to go by.
“Fine – lead the way.” He said.
Jimin had already gauged that the palace had been luxuriant in its time but now, walking quietly through the long hallways with…an animate object bouncing along in front of him, he had to admit; that the ruin that now faced him didn’t seem adjacent to what the palace must have been before.
The stone, now greenish grey had gnarled carvings etched into them. The statues that stood at corners had most of their heads broken or missing and the small beam that the candles gave off only made him all the more unsettled.
“We know it’s a little…dull – around here but we hope you’ll like it.” It was as if the thing knew what was going on in Jimin’s head.
“You said ‘we’…and ‘household’ before…but except for you…and…well, the monster,” Jimin stopped talking when the candelabrum winced.
“You…might want to be careful about that. The Mistress is sensitive and none of the people in the castle will appreciate you calling her that.”
Jimin nearly tripped on his feet when he finally processed something. “That…that thing is a she?”
He was ignored. The candelabrum stopped in front of one of the doors, double door, handles of glum silver. “This is going to be your room, sir.” Jimin didn’t answer, quietly reaching for the handle and turning it, letting himself in cautiously.
The room wasn’t lighted, most of the darkness only marred by the light streaming from a glass window. He could spy a bed at best.
Jimin was about to step in further, squinting his eyes when he heard a loud creak, possibly a considerable weight upon a floorboard and then the clink of metal.
“If you don’t like the room, we can move you.” He heard but instead of the smooth, cool voice of the candelabrum, it was gruff, low and sullen.
He whirled to see a huge part of a shadow standing well back into the room. A heavy cloak wrapped up the body, concealing it further within the darkness.
Jimin didn’t speak as the form lumbered to the open door.
“Your needs will be seen to here. My servants will attend to you.” There was a pause before it took hold of the door. “And you will meet me for dinner; every night.”
The slam of the door made Jimin jump; his immediate reaction was to run to the door and look through the keyhole. There were footsteps and a murmur of conversation but aside from that, the entire palace seemed silent.
Jimin huffed, walking over to the window to open it, casting a furtive look outside and letting out a scornful laughter. He was a good way up the ground. Jumping from the window would mean certain death and even if he only escaped, it would be with broken bones and with no horse.
He doubted the ‘Mistress’ would nurse him back to health.
“My sweetest sister,” A finger brushed under the supple cheek of Hyebin, turning her attention to her brother who loomed over her at the counter of the pub. “What has you down?”
Hyebin pouted, throwing Kai’s hand off. “I went by Park Jimin’s house this evening to see if he would take a turn with me. He wasn’t there. The house was empty.”
“Maybe he went off with that father of his.”
“Why would he? There is nothing to do for him.”
Kai cast a glance at his grumpy sister, feeling the brewing of an odd emotion that he had had for her for months now. It was a mixture of pity, annoyance and yet the unyielding need to present whatever she wanted on a golden platter. He knew that Jimin did not return even half of a quarter of affection that his sister had and while he was annoyed at her overzealous devotion, he knew that she would never falter.
She got her stubbornness from him, after all.
Now, there may be better men for Hyebin than Jimin, but she wanted him and Jimin would marry her – Kai would see to it.
“Sister,” he began.
“You promised, Kai! You promised me you would make him marry me. You don’t love me. You can’t even do this much for me!”
“Now, now, dearest,”
Hyebin’s face had reddened; her hair crackling as she swelled like a bullfrog, ready to rail at her brother when the doors on the pub crashed open, with Mr. Park falling, raving against it.
“Help,” he panted, grasping at whatever was close at hand to heave himself up. “Help, my son, my son please.”
Heads turned, eyes falling to the soaked man as snow melted and pooled around his boots, the cloak wet and snug around his head. His eyes shifted from one astonished face to another, growing more restless.
“Please! I need help. My son has been taken by a monster!”
Behind him, Kai heard Hyebin’s squawk of indignation die down, releasing instead a dainty gasp. He watched the loony man walk around, trying to clutch at the sleeves of the patrons who shook him off with scoffs until he neared the siblings, finally tumbling at Kai’s elbow.
“Please, Kai, my last hope – you…have to help. My son, my only son – gone! – taken! – I can’t take this.”
Hyebin shrunk away from the delirious old man, bundling her dress to her knees even as Kai shook his arm free. “What’s the matter, Mr. Park? Be a little clear.”
“The monster of the palace took Jimin! Trapped him in the big castle on the hill…I couldn’t do anything!”
There was a pause as Kai furrowed his brow, before a patron shouted. “Leave him, Kai. He’s probably mad with the cold!”
“I am not!” Mr. Park immediately protested, wringing roughly at the coat before slumping his head and walking out the pub, defeated. They could hear wails of anguish in the cold winds outside but none were met with sympathy.
“He ran away!” Hyebin finally screeched, sinking her nails in her brother’s arms, ire flaming again.
Kai didn’t answer, letting his arm lax while his thoughtful expression slowly merged into that of a smirk. “Hyebin, my sweet; you might just get to marry Park Jimin after all.”
Jimin didn’t know when he’d dozed off. It must have been the exhaustion of the day, the pressure, the sorrow but he had curled up in one of the dusty armchairs, closed his eyes for possibly a second, only to gather his thoughts. Now he woke up to a pitch black room, stars visible from the window and he knew it was very late into the night.
His back had cramped in his position, obliging him to get off when he heard the gentle knock on the door. He took a wary stance, waiting for the doors to be barged into but to no avail. It was probably Seokjin the candle holder, Jimin decided, going to open the door.
“My now, I thought you’d wait for all the milk to go cold before you opened the door.”
Anticipating it, Jimin was already looking to the floor, only to be met by what looked like a tea set. He watched eyes boggling as the tea pot, a tall, sleek work with a rotund belly hobbled into the room, followed by a cup, and a sugar bowl.
“Um, what…who – are you now?” He asked.
“I’m the head cook, boy. Min Yoongi’s the name, also known as the best damn teapot in the kingdom. This right here,” the snout of the teapot tipped down to the cup, “is Taehyung, the assistant cook but not the best cup even in the room because he can’t keep himself on one stupid shelf.”
“Yah Hyung,” the cup opened at its seam, as if they were lips. “Don’t be mean.”
“I wasn’t going to come at all but I can’t leave you alone. Now then to business, boy; the Princess is taking a late supper so you can eat with her. You can have some milk before you go. You look like you’ve been crying and you’re just going to upset her.”
“Upset her?” Jimin glared, as the tea cup, filled with milk jumped into his reluctant hand. “I am the one trapped here.”
“Look on the bright side.” The teapot waved its spout and all the tea materials gathered in one line, heading out the door. “There’s a splendid welcome supper to be had. Come Taehyung.” He called as he exited.
“Oh but,” the tea cup sloshed some of its content onto Jimin’s hands when it jumped down, skidding across the stone before the door shut again. The sounds of the tea cup’s protests reached Jimin even through the heavy door.
Jimin wiped his hands of his trousers, grumbling at the way he made a mess when he backed against something large.
“No need to worry, young sir. Wardrobe is always here to help!”
Golden but dusty doors banged Jimin on the face, nearly tossing him onto the floor as the wardrobe advanced, rows and rows of pristine, shiny outfits ready to be worn. Jimin gasped, clutching his nose in pain as he shook his head.
“Many apologies! It’s been a while since I’ve been opened for any event at all. I am Jung Hoseok, the royal master of robes. Please do look through the selection to pick something out. I daresay you’ll want to change out of your outfit for dinner.”
“No thanks,” Wincing, Jimin managed to get to his feet. “I’m not going to dinner with Princess Monster down there.”
“Oh dear,” he heard the wardrobe as he crossed his arms, turning to the window to glare out of it.
The long dining table had been decked out for the first time in fifteen years. Silk cloths had been draped over the mahogany, candles put up, torches wiped and lit, plates and tableware sparkled in the dancing flame of the fireplace.
Yet, none of the chairs had been pulled back.
Seokjin and Yoongi, watched, anxious as the Mistress of the Castle, their Princess prowled in front of the table, each paw taking further weight from your animal bulk.
“Your highness, perhaps…you should sit and wait.” Seokjin suggested.
“No; I will wait for the man.” You said. Your voice had dipped down to a warning growl but your household items…your staff had never been very afraid of you.
Maybe they had, once, when you had first transformed and not taken to what you had become. A monster, a huge, hunkering loathsome thing which wanted to claw and destroy anything that stood in its wake…
It had taken years, but you had somewhat been ‘tamed’ since then.
“Princess, please, do consider that if we play our cards right, this man could be your salvation.”
“You think I don’t know that? I do…I know that but…how can he be if he won’t even come to dinner?”
“Perhaps also take into consideration that the boy is trapped here. He won’t see his father or his previous life again.” Jin’s statement wasn’t met with any geniality, instead the candelabrum found himself in the vice grip of his Mistress.
“Then what should I do? Do I throw him out? Let him leave so he can bring back a mob? No! I won’t do anything and if he wants to be difficult, I can be too.”
“We know that, your highness.” Yoongi said, his spout quivering. “We just have to remember to keep our tempers in check.”
The last statement was spoken pointedly and the monster blinked its huge yellow eyes, looking down to where you were almost squeezing your Maitre ‘D. You dropped the candle holder, Seokjin bouncing back a few steps when the door to the dinner room opened.
“Ah, there he is.” Yoongi’s belly turned, the porcelain splitting into a smile.
You turned, eyes trained in anticipation but what peeked in was an ornate long grandfather clock, its rose gold arms clasping the door in trepidation.
“Namjoon, where is the boy?” Seokjin asked immediately.
The royal advisor hemmed, glancing anxiously at the bunched up bulk of the Princess. “He says, he won’t be coming, your highness.”
There was a ringing silence, torn by the groans of Yoongi and Seokjin before you stood up, your clawed feet digging into the stone floor so hard it hurt.
“Fine, if he wants to be so stubborn then let him have his consequences too. Yoongi, you will bar the kitchens. He will not eat anything unless he first comes to me.”
“Princess, we can’t woo a dead man.” Namjoon said calmly but you were already dropping down from an upright position to what you were used to, on all four feet, crouching.
“I don’t care! Just…just let him starve! I don’t care if we find bones in his room.”
The three items converged, all talking together and you slammed a paw on the table, shredding the cloth. “Enough; let me go!” You roared before taking off, leaping over their heads so you could head and lock yourself in your quarters.
The silence that brushed up and closed around you as soon as the doors shut behind you and automatically locked was bliss. Yet your mind was anything but.
Hateful thoughts swirled in your mind, mostly aimed at yourself, some at the enthusiasm that your staff seemed to show for this new addition to your home and finally, venom spilling out to the man who had now entombed himself in one of your best rooms but couldn’t even show the decency to come down for dinner.
What was so difficult about dinner?
And why was he allowed to shut himself in his room when all your life you had been told to never hide yourself from the rest of the house?
Granted, all your people were now objects, magical but still just objects. Your parents had been turned to statues, forced to weather out in the overrun gardens and you had been raised by Seokjin, Yoongi, Hoseok and Namjoon mostly. Children your age; Taehyung and Jungkook had hated you in the beginning and you had never sought them out yourself.
Over time, Taehyung had forgiven you but Jungkook turned to a Duster never saw you, working quietly where you would never tread.
The rest of your household never came forward and said it; having never witnessed the event that had transformed you all but the malice was palpable. The rejection hurt, you were a child shunned and you sprouted claws much too early for anybody’s liking but you had tried.
You had tried, before giving up. You gave up because nothing happened. Fifteen years and no prince came; no fairy godmothers pointed their wands at you. The wizard never came back to see if his spell wrecked you.
All the stories that showed that Princesses would be rescued fell short at one crucial juncture.
No one told the story about the cursed princess who was ugly, who was a monster, who wasn’t the pale skinned beauty in a glass case or silk bed.
No, nobody came to save the ugly princess and over time you learned to see yourself just that.
This man – this Jimin, would be no exception.
“After all, what’s to love?” You muttered.
You vowed not to weep. Not for a man, not for the humanity that judged who was worthy of love.
Jimin had dozed off again. When he woke, it was with a start, groggy and fumbling in his movements. This was a bad habit. He needed to collect his wits about himself. Maybe it was the magic of the castle but he had to remember that he wasn’t safe in here, no matter how friendly and polite everyone…everything was being.
Somehow, in his slumber, the torches in the room had been lit, casting the place in a dazzling golden glow. The chair he had fallen asleep in again was pushed right to the edge of the room, near the window. He spied that the bed had been made with brocade bedding, surfaces had been dusted and to his surprise there was a pool at the very centre, filled with clear, almost glittering water.
Jimin’s stomach, having refused dinner with the Monster out of pride was already protesting, tossing him out of the chair in the direction of the pool. Maybe a cool drink would cheer and lift his spirits.
He sat at the engraved stone border, looking down at his haggard expression in the water, running a hand through the pool, cupping the soothing liquid up to his lips.
The minute the water passed his lips, a new sense of relief and rejuvenation passed his body, coursing through him as though adrenaline itself. Jimin got to his feet, looking about if he could ask the Wardrobe – Hoseok – where he could go to find food.
He found the spot empty, instead there stood a mannequin. On it, hung was a brand new outfit; a white spotless shirt, black trousers and blue silk coat. The mannequin stood lifeless even as Jimin stripped it, and then with apprehension brewing at his belly at accepting the gift, himself. However, unease had to wait; he was soaked, cold, and soiled. He would fall sick at that rate and then all his plans of escape would shatter. He also didn’t want to be indebted to the castle in any way.
So with a bite at his pride, he put on the outfit before pressing his ears to the door, listening for any movement. He couldn’t hear the pounds of the Princess’s paws, the clatter of any objects moving, no conversation, nothing at all.
Wary in his gait, he stepped out, keeping a light foot to lead him on when something whimpered from his side.
Jimin jumped, whirling in anticipation of roars, of overwhelming friendliness but instead a small pair of eyes beamed up at him from behind a moth eaten curtain. Running a hand over his panicking heart, Jimin’s lips tugged into a soft smile.
“Hello there,” he cooed at the pup that ventured out the curtain with three more at its tail.
“Oh, wow, puppies.” Jimin wanted to laugh at the simplicity, at the adorableness but the pups only let out soft gurgles, wrapping paws around Jimin’s legs, trying to nudge him along.
“What is it? Where are you taking me?”
Jimin allowed him to be prodded and nudged along by four small dogs, along the hallway, down the stairs and through another until he was pushing open a door, clearly the kitchen.
“Oh my,” his eyes fell first to the teapot on a wooden table, followed by the grandfather clock and candle holder he’d seen already. “What are you doing here? How did you,”
The teapot stopped when he saw the four puppies cuddling around Jimin’s feet, something of a softness melting the intricate seam of it. “Ah, of course,”
“Forgive me, I didn’t know. I was just hungry.” Jimin shyly dipped his head, knowing he was probably trespassing on some late night gossip among the staff.
“No, no, of course you’re hungry, you did show some nerve. It must’ve made you ravenous.” Seokjin bobbed towards him, wrapping a gold arm around his coat tails, dragging him to the table.
“Don’t worry, sir. We’ve spoken with the Mistress. She’s going to show some leniency. She won’t come down to dinner the same time as you do…unless you request it.” Namjoon the clock lied smoothly.
Jimin was sat at the table by Seokjin, a napkin pressed at him by the teapot as dishes and plates of food began to dance around the length of the table, piling upon the plate presented to him to eat.
“I…thank you.” Jimin frowned, unable to think of anything more to say.
“You may also wander the castle and grounds as you wish. One of us will always be found around and the Guides,” Yoongi pointed its spout at the four pups that stood lined near the door, “will be your companions mostly.”
Jimin looked down at the hearty meal in front of him before digging in. “That will be very nice. Thank you.” He said around a mouthful of potatoes.
True to their words, the castle and grounds were left wide open for the curious Jimin. He woke up to a wonderful outfit slung on the mannequin; suits, coats, wonderful silks and soft cashmeres to drape over his body. The wardrobe – Hoseok, had returned, helping Jimin dress for the day’s adventures.
Jimin would eat breakfast in his room, sitting at the edge of the pool where – he wondered if it was his imagination – the water seemed to move to entertain him. He would climb over stiles; sniff the glowing flowers, count stars and fireflies if he stayed out too late. The castle, upon inspection was vast. Huge statues imposed upon him, Grecian, roman and baroque architecture worked itself seamlessly in the palace and he had fun listening to Namjoon talking about each was worked in or acquired.
He was very rarely alone.
The Guides, as the staff called the small pups were always with him. He had learned their names from Taehyung, the tea cup. The fluffy brown one was Holly, a pair of small Pomeranians that shaded darker was Mickey and Yeontan and then finally a pure white one named Monnie.
They led him in and out the lands, sometimes through a grotto where the only thing that nestled was a pair of entwined huge statues. He had stopped and stared up at them for quite a while. They were probably the biggest in the entire castle, both wearing a pained, sorrowed expression that bore Jimin’s own heart down. He didn’t venture in that particular grotto again. It felt too…private somehow.
Jimin was given dinner in the main dining room, the long table decked out only for him. He would sometimes cast a look upon the opposite chair, feeling lonely even if he had multiple entities to talk to.
The Princess never came upon in Jimin’s presence for days. He could sometimes hear the paws of her feet on the floor when he was roaming about, but she never once tried to impose herself on him. It was almost as if she watched him watch her home from afar.
Something in Jimin tugged when he thought about home, how he had completely left behind his straggly little town for this palatial world. He missed his father terribly yes, but here in the estate that he was free to roam, with people whose knowledge he was free to peck at, the silence had turned blissful very quickly.
Thoughts of escape never strayed further from his mind but for now, he wanted to stay cocooned in this silence.
It was almost two weeks till he was made aware of the very real presence of the mysterious Princess. He was used to her being a phantom by now so when the Guides playfully nipped at each other, chasing down a corridor, Jimin followed at ease, not feeling the pricks of unease until he reached the darker end of the corridor.
It was a whole quarter, possibly belonging to one of the royal family. He peeked into the empty bath before venturing further into the darkened opening.
The palace that had been warmed by fire for their new guest – or prisoner, however Jimin wanted to look at it had failed here. There was an odd chill running through the walls, as if someone had sucked the temperature and doused the room in ice.
The furniture was all dusty, clearly not attended to, and silver and cream paint peeled from the walls. He could almost spy the moss that collected in the cracks of the walls before he came to stand in front of the wall of paintings.
Each and every face on the walls, Jimin noted had been slashed. It was a brutal mutilation, clearly from the Princess’s claws. There was one painting that remained, of what had to be the royal couple. A tall, regal man stood at the side of an equally prim lady who sat on an armchair. One of his hands clasped her shoulders while hers held on to a young child, poised delicately upon her knee.
The child, a girl wasn’t having it though. He could tell the struggle of her flailing arms and kicking feet yet her face was void of distress. Instead he stared at the laughing, playing child, baby curls fluttering around her ears, thick fingers and chubby cheeks – the full deal. A small golden tiara nestled upon her head, crooked from her movement.
The picture was so happy; it brought a catch to Jimin’s throat, looking back up at the couple, tearing his eyes from the once human Princess. There was something hauntingly familiar about the faces yet Jimin couldn’t put his finger on it.
So engrossed he was, in staring at the pictures, moving on to where he tried to put together shredded pieces of the painting together that he failed to notice the silence. There was no yapping of the puppies to be heard and this silence was anything but comfortable.
When the door squeaked open, Jimin turned, coming face to face with the monster who had been diligently avoiding him. Half her furry face was shadowed, but he could tell from the single wide open yellow eye that he wasn’t an expected sight.
The eyes darted from his face to his hands, placed upon the paintings. Jimin had barely opened his mouth, to apologize, to explain, perhaps to snap but the Princess had already dropped to her haunches, a low growl ripping through the back of her throat.
“WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING? HOW DARE YOU COME HERE?”
Jimin stumbled back, pressing against the wall as the monstrous Princess leapt, scrambling towards the paintings and covering them up.
“I…I was just,”
“LEAVE! I WANT YOU OUT. GO! NOW,”
Jimin had heard enough and it presented a brilliant opportunity to him. She wanted him to leave. He could leave.
So quick he was, sidestepping the crouching girl that he had no time to see her fall to the floor, the cloak that covered and hid her body wrapped protectively around as a whimper replaced her roars. The Princess’s sobs never reached Jimin’s ears.
He didn’t wait to find any of the household staff. He knew that they would ultimately attempt to stop him, try to make sense of the Princess’s commands. So he hurried down the stairs and out the side to where he’d found the stables.
His own Geureum was gone, with his father but he yanked on the reins of a white stallion; titled Jjangu on his crest. Jimin saddled the panicking horse blindly, patting it only once to soothe it before he was mounting and taking off in the distance of the town.
Your roaring yells had reached the ears of the household, of course. Namjoon was the first to respond, sliding into the royal quarters; his wooden stand skidding as he found you curled up under the one painting that you couldn’t bring yourself to destroy.
It was your family portrait, commissioned just two years before your lives would change forever and while you had torn up every picture of your face that hung up, you couldn’t destroy your parent’s.
Namjoon could tell from the shudders that shook your form that you were just finishing crying. Propriety dictated that he wouldn’t trespass on a royal in distress but you were his charge, he had raised you, taught you, attempted to feed you since he could bring your fear and panic at being transformed into a beast to heel.
“Princess…Y/N,” He coaxed, golden bars running through the shaggy mass where your hair would be. His heart ached at the soft sniffles that sounded too loud because you…you weren’t human after all.
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not. And it’s okay to not be, you won’t be less of a person for your troubles.”
You raised your head with a deep scoffing laugh. “I am not a person, Namjoon. I’m a monster; a loathsome creature.”
The clock ticked angrily but didn’t prod the issue. “The boy -,”
“Left; I scared him off. That’s that then.”
Namjoon shook his head, casting a glance out to where the snow had become wilder, until only white could be seen. “Your highness, he left in a terrible condition. He’ll get lost.”
“I don’t care.”
“Princess, Namjoon,” Two heads turned to where Seokjin rushed in, candles burning on his many wicks. “The boy, Jimin, he has taken off on your horse! He’s taken Jjangu.”
“WHAT IN THE WORLD?” You screeched loudly enough for both grown men…objects to flinch. “MY HORSE…HOW COULD HE DARE, HE -,”
“Princess, the wolves, if the wolves find them, it will be too late,” Seokjin murmured softly.
There was a heavy pregnant pause in which Namjoon and Seokjin stared at their Mistress, holding her shaggy head aloft as if she was praying for pity. Finally, under the gaze of your caretakers and advisors, you slumped, admitting defeat.
“Alright, alright, I suppose we can’t leave him to die in the blizzard.”
When you had first transformed, a howl had been the first thing that had scared you. Your small hands and feet had turned into paws, huge claws protruding from the nails. Your hair seemed to grow everywhere until you were taught that it was fur, too coarse and too matted to be what had been a well taken care of head of hair.
Your first memories after the transformation had been running away, tripping and falling multiple times because you weren’t used to your new body until Namjoon and Yoongi had found you, cowering under a broken branch. Howls had pushed you into a scared ball and when they’d found you, they’d spoken. You could still remember a clock and a teapot trying to act brave as a single wolf, too big and gleaming in the moonlight curled back its lips, issuing the threat that had locked you in your castle forever.
Of course, with age and your guardian’s patience you had honed your new abilities; speed, agility, strength and keen senses.
It was easy finding your fearful horse and Jimin, running on all fours as if a wolf yourself. Your ears pricked, picking up the yells of the man and whinnying as wolves surrounded your charges on all sides.
It was stupid to charge in head first, but when you saw a wolf snap Jimin’s weapon, a single stick in two between its jaws, it was exactly what you did.
Your first powerful spring, landed you clean behind Jimin’s now buckled body. The wolves immediately halted, intelligent eyes darting from the curling boy at your feet back to you, tongues rolling perversely.
You felt rather than saw Jimin raise his head, wondering why the wolves hadn’t ended him already. When he felt the larger presence behind him, he turned, gaping up at you as you placed one paw to the front, marking a line, marking a territory.
Loud snaps surrounded you, the wolves reorganizing till they circled you now, ready to attack from every direction.
Your eyes, however, sought one wolf out, finding its way back, sitting on its hind legs, tail wrapped around them. You snarled at it, the wolf obviously smirking at you before it rose up, stalking over to the head of the pack. It gave a short yap and the wolves, in once sleek, collective move, pounced.
You only had time to jump over Jimin, drawing the attack away from the human and your precious horse before you felt the first swipe of claws at your back. You whirled around, your own paws frantically hitting and lashing out, trying to bat away as many wolves as you could with as much force as you could muster.
You knew you couldn’t kill them, of course but it wouldn’t be for the lack of trying.
The wolves landed as many blows as they could on you, punishing you, sinking in teeth around your wrist, snapping around your ankles until you could smell the warm, metal in the air, from mostly your wounds.
“Enough,” You finally heard the one wolf, it’s comrades backing away with one word until you were left, swaying, eye to eye with its imperious gaze.
“Back off.” You growled but the only reply you got was a rough snicker, animalistic and feral.
“We would, just to see you fail in this attempt, Princess. We still wait for our master, and the day he becomes King, we shall have the boy for dinner. Another time,” The wolf tipped its tail at you, before turning and trotting off.
Jimin only raised his head when the sounds he could hear was the stamps of the horse’s hoofs, the whistling of the wind through his hair. When he peeked through slatted eyes, he could see you, tall, bulky, standing up to your full height as he caught the wolf farther away, dainty steps carrying it till it melted in the snow.
Jimin’s black robes that he hadn’t changed when he rushed out where wet, dirty again and he picked himself up, trying not to make too much sound lest you turn and put him through the same assault as you had the wolves.
He had heard the heavy thuds of your paws, the throwing around of the wolves as they banged against trees and rocks. He knew you could shatter his skull with one paw but then he’d also heard your screams of pain, each singing through him as you tried to keep the wolves away from him and your horse.
He reached the reins, about to climb on when he saw the horse’s eyes for the first time. They were wide, the neck bobbing as it tried to free itself from Jimin’s holding.
Jimin frowned, turning from the horse to where you stood and for the first time, he saw the damage inflicted upon you. Your heavy cloak had been ripped to tatters, hanging off of you in ribbons that exposed him to you. You wore pants, to contain the large hind legs, a simple men’s shirt. It was now smeared in stark red, the crimson pooling from your feet and arms into the pure snow below.
He watched as you tilted to the side, your weight finally tipping extreme and you collapsed, snow and blood flying from the impact.
Jimin turned to the horse again, reading the pain in the horse’s eyes.
It loved you.
Jimin once again turned to where your body lay, shivering just so slightly.
You were just a child, a cursed little baby girl.
Jimin’s mind flooded with images of a small girl in the painting, phantom giggles in his ears.
You saved him. He couldn’t leave you to die.
Jimin dropped the reins, his feet sinking into the inches deep snow as he ran over to you, kneeling down to turn your face towards him.
Your eyes were long closed, your mouth parted just enough for him to see the fangs within but he looked past that. Your fur was wet, both from the melting snow but also from your blood and as he cupped your huge head, he knew you wouldn’t last in this cold. Already, your breathing was erratic, your chest falling further with each exhale.
He looked to the horse that trotted closer, responding to the man who was helping his owner. It took severe effort, hefting the Princess but Jjangu was unexpectedly strong. The Princess lay across the horse, feet and head dangling and swaying as Jimin took the reins again, deciding to walk as he made his way back to the Castle, your home.
If the household staff was surprised to see Jimin back again, especially with an injured Princess lobbed across her horse, they didn’t express it. Instead they swarmed, concerned around where Jimin heaved and unceremoniously dropped the Princess at the base of the stairs.
While a coat rack took a shivering Jjangu back to the stables to be fed and warmed, Jimin helped the rest of the objects drag their Mistress to the sitting room.
“Great, what’s she gotten into now?” He heard as he unbuttoned his coat, rolling up his shirt sleeves.
“Not now, Jungkook; she’s injured badly, near death. Either help, or stay out of the way as always.”
Jimin tilted his head towards the sullen reply, straining to hear. “Gladly, if I never see her face, it will be too soon. She’s the reason we’re like this, or have you forgotten?”
“Jungkook, that’s enough!” He heard the low angry rasp of Namjoon’s voice when there was a shuffle in his eyesight.
The Princess seemed to be able to tell that she was safe again, grunting and whining as she sat propped up in a huge winged armchair. Her tattered robes had been shed off, her modesty preserved by the fact that she was entirely covered in fur but Jimin kept his eyes averted respectfully anyway. Her large legs were drawn up as she clutched her wounded, slashed appendage close to her body.
As Yoongi hobbled over, full of hot water, followed by medicine bottles on a spidery tray that clattered, Jimin ripped bandages. He filled up a golden bowl with the steaming water, dipping medicine and cloths in it.
The moment he stood up, intending to nurse the Princess, she flinched, surprising Jimin as she cowered away from him. She turned her back, and he could hear a distinct whimper, as she licked at her injuries.
She’s not used to being vulnerable, Jimin realized, his slack frame pushed to movement with the fear that her licking and prodding would infect and worsen the slashes.
“Now, now, don’t do that.” He moved too fast, grabbing a hold of the Princess’s shoulder and was immediately met with a wide open maw, her ferocious roar shifting his hair back.
Jimin dropped his hand, scowling at the stubborn slump of her arm, drawn back to her tongue. “You’ll make it worse. Just let me help.”
“It hurts.” She snapped when Jimin leaned right over her, attempting to wipe at the mangled arm.
“If you hold still, maybe it won’t.” Jimin tried to keep his voice steady, not wanting to snap at the already pained girl. Her screams at the biting and slashing wolves were still too fresh in Jimin’s mind. He wanted to show some kindness but she was just so…pigheaded.
“Maybe if you hadn’t run away, I wouldn’t be hurt.”
Jimin raised his eyebrows at her petulant tone. If he wasn’t already aware, he would’ve believed the Princess to still be a child at the sullen note of her voice. Something tugged at the corners of his lips as she attempted to cross her arms; the clawed up one still dangling in his hold.
“You told me to leave, remember?”
“I didn’t mean the castle.”
Jimin dropped the bloodied cloth in a waste bowl. “I suppose the lesson here is that you should watch your temper, isn’t it?” He made an exaggerated show of dipping another cloth in the medicine bowl, ignoring the Princess as she huffed and dropped her huge head on an equally huge paw, distinctly pouting.
“Please hold still now, this is going to pinch some.” He used the same tone as he would on his father, concentrating at digging out some remaining bits of grime from the claw marks. A few of his swipes made the Princess cringe and try to pull away but not once did her strength win against his sharp glances and sudden tightening of grips as he repeated the process on her feet.
Finally as he did the bandages he spoke again.
“Thank you, for saving my life.”
The Princess was quiet for so long that Jimin had to chance a look up, catching her quickly smoothening her expression into one of nonchalance. “You’re welcome.” She growled lowly.
But Jimin had already seen the bitten lips, the downward slope of her brow and the glassiness of her eyes.
He stayed right there, on the floor at her feet for a while, until the Princess, who had been staring into the fireplace had her eyes drooping. He stood when he was sure she was asleep, snores shuffling the fur near her mouth and nose.
Jimin folded back the sleeves on his muddy shirt. He knew he needed to change his clothes if he wanted to stay well, if he was sick as well, who would take care of the Princess? He hardly thought Seokjin’s candle hands or Namjoon’s golden bars would be able to change soiled bandages and he could already feel a chill coming.
Placing a huge blanket on the sleeping Princess, he went up to his room to change.
“How is she?” Hoseok asked immediately, as he shuffled inside for something to wear.
“She’ll have a few days with that bandage. It’ll probably scar.” Jimin answered tiredly, dropping his clothes and entering the bath where Yoongi was already pouring hot water in the tub.
“Thank you,” Yoongi said as he stood by. Jimin turned his head to look at the gleaming pot in question. “For not leaving her to die,” Yoongi clarified.
“Of course not…I will admit I had the thought but, I couldn’t. Not after she’d risked hers to save mine and Jjangu.”
“Jjangu was a gift foal from her father. She loves the animal more than anything.” Jimin heard before with a click of the bathroom door, he was alone.
He sighed, laying his head back along the porcelain edge. He was desperately exhausted, aching and needed to sleep, but there was a gnawing in his chest. He knew the Princess was in good hands now; he would only be needed when she needed her bandages changed and he knew she could manage that herself but he found it difficult to not be worried for the girl that somehow seemed so small and scared in all her ferocious enormity.
“Maybe…maybe I could try to be her friend.” Jimin mumbled, more to himself than anything as he closed his eyes.
Jimin took his vow seriously.
The first thing he did when his eyes popped open and fell on the customary outfit left for him; a simple powder blue shirt and black trousers – was to jump up and get dressed even before Hoseok had opened the eyes on top of it.
Quietly, he made his way down to where the Princess was still snoozing in the chair, flinging open curtains and inching closer just in case she woke up and panicked.
“Princess,” Jimin called gently, her head moving just so. “Your highness, wake up.”
With a groggy groan, her head fell towards his direction, yellow eyes blinking open in the filtering morning light.
And to the Princess’s dawning wonder and shock, Jimin gave her a beautiful, wide grin; possibly the most beautiful sight she had ever witnessed in her life.
From then on, both Jimin and Y/N tried to make an effort.
Y/N still felt her temper flare up quick as a snake’s attack but she quelled it in fear of the look on Jimin’s face. Jimin learned that despite her age, the Princess was still just a sheltered child who knew only what had been told to her.
Jimin tried to get you to participate in various activities. He taught you a few card tricks with a very old battered set that Seokjin unearthed, he told you stories of France, his life, what the world had to offer outside of the small town that had forgotten and abandoned her, he even tried to paint with her – although that ended in a disaster that had Yoongi steaming from his spout, Taehyung quickly sent to supervise the cleaning.
You, on the other hand, took Jimin outside.
Even though, Jimin had had the Guides to lead him places, no one knew the Castle and its grounds like you did, having spent fifteen years prowling and growing in it.
You allowed him to ride Jjangu while you walked, sometimes raced him. He had to change your bandages multiple times during these rides, noting with some joy that you healed faster than a human.
With four wild puppies and Jjangu, you took him to the top of a stile where in the falling night; he could count a multitude of stars and constellations. You threw Jimin in fountains; let him sift through flowers in the crumbling greenhouse, taste the fruits from the Grottos.
“My parents,” you pointed with a clawed finger, up at the huge entwined statues that had haunted Jimin before. He looked, focused on their faces more now, recognizing them from the portrait.
“Are they…gone?”
“No, just left frozen, to watch over what happens to me,”
Jimin turned to see you staring down at your palms, the story of the curse now making him enraged for your sake rather than sad. However, he kept mum, afraid of upsetting you rather than providing comfort. Instead, he took your huge gnarled hand, leading you quietly back.
Jimin and you took meals together now, lunches and dinners. He had unintentionally grimaced when he saw you simply lower your face and devour the food directly from the bowls and plates. In time, once he saw you try for him sake, he realized that your hands were simply too big for the dainty silverware and fragile glass goblets that fitted so perfectly in his.
So the next meal, Jimin surprised you by asking Taehyung to simply not provide any at all, raising his own bowl to his lips to eat as you did.
Your smile, huge, fanged, fur creasing in the corners of your mouth yet so happy, golden hue shining in your eyes, made him make it a habit to accommodate you, rather than ask you to change for him.
“Can I open them now?”
Jimin followed the trail of your cloak, sight barred by his hands as you attempted to lead him off for a surprise. You had been excited, the morning you simply strode into his room before he was even dressed. He had rushed behind Hoseok, who laughed at the pink of his cheeks and flustered backing away from you, until you claimed that ‘it was ready’ as he hurriedly put some clothes on.
“Not yet,”
Jimin heard the creak of doors, the clangs of curtain rings and felt the warmth of the sun on his skin.
“Okay, open them.”
Jimin dropped his hands with an indulgent smile, first looking at where you stood at the window, paws clasped together, and a nervous grin on your animal face. Your ears stood on point, waiting for his reaction as Jimin’s eyes wandered…and then widened till they were ready to pop right out.
It was a library.
A wonderful, glorious library, better than the dingy bookshop in town, better than any he’d seen in Paris. This was better than anything anyone could create in the whole world. Towering till the eye could see, with ladders and actual staircases leading up, his neck strained trying to fathom just how many books there were there.
“Oh my god,”
“Do you like it?”
Jimin looked down at where you were nearly vibrating with nervous energy.
“I had it cleaned, that’s what took so long. Seokjin told me you loved reading so I thought you should have this. I don’t know if everything is alright, but I checked last night and,” You stopped rambling when Jimin said your name. It was just a soft whisper but it tore a shiver through you at the tenderness, the fondness in it.
You had never heard anyone speak to you like that – not even your caretakers.
Jimin was practically aglow. His eyes shone as if someone lit coals underneath, his teeth blinded with the power of his smile, before his eyes turned to invisible slits.
“I absolutely love it, Y/N. Thank you; no one has ever done something like this for me before. This is perfect.” He strode forwards, his hand reaching for your face where his fingers nestled within the shaggy fur on your cheeks. He kept his smile fixed, nails gently scratching as your breath caught at the affection.
Jimin stared up at you, his own eyes and face sobering at the wide eyed look on your face. His fingers slowed till they just rested there, the both of you staring at one another.
“Ahem,” Jimin finally cleared his throat, removing his hand from your face. Was that disappointment he saw across your face? He turned to the shelves. “What shall we read first?”
Something thudded in Jimin’s chest, racing his blood with adrenaline as you and he sat on the floor in the sitting room, books strewn around you and the fireplace bathing you in heat.
“…and they lived happily ever after.” Jimin finished, closing the fifth book.
He had laughed and placed his head on yours when he discovered that you loved stories as much as he did. You had demanded him to read for you with one, two and the next three books. Jimin had happily obliged, enjoying the way you now sprawled on your front, arms cradling your head, looking at him with such a rapturous expression, he could melt.
“Read…one more…?” Jimin looked down to where you slid another book in his lap. Your eyes were big, hopeful and the rush of emotion that swirled in Jimin’s stomach was nowhere polite. He thought back to Hyebin, wanting to be married to him and yet knowing that she would fall asleep at the one thing Jimin was so passionate about. He cursed himself for the comparison. There was none. Hyebin wouldn’t even occupy the shadow of who you were.
“Y/N…I’m tired. How about you read for me now?” he leaned back on his arms, nudging the book back at you.
You paused, sitting up slowly before taking the book in your huge hands.
“I…I’ll rip it.”
“I’ll fix it back for you.” Jimin said immediately.
Your face fell as you opened the book, taking some time to flip it to the first page. Jimin watched; somewhat concerned as you slowly read the first of the fairytales.
“Once…up – on, a time…”
“Y/N, love,” Jimin had no time to worry about the endearment that slipped his mouth. “What’s wrong?”
“I…I can’t,”
“Can’t…read…?” He guessed.
You nodded quickly, fearfully.
“Oh, I thought Namjoon taught you.”
“Alphabets, a little book of stories and history…but I…I can’t read big literature. I can’t even hold books.”
Jimin’s heart cracked as you glared fiercely at your hands again.
“No matter, I’ll teach you, here, come now. I’ll hold the book for you.” Jimin grabbed the book, holding it open for you as he slowly, pronounced the words, you following him.
Behind you, unbeknownst to both of you, Yoongi, Namjoon, Seokjin and Taehyung sighed dreamily.
“Think they’re in love yet?” Jungkook drawled from behind them.
“Not just yet, I suppose, but they’re getting there.” Namjoon said.
“They need one more push.” Yoongi muttered.
“And what better than…a ball,” Seokjin glanced at Taehyung, wearing identical smirks.
Hyebin lay on her front, draped along the chaise in a manner that would have most men in the town be willing to do her bidding. The one she wanted, however, hadn’t even gone past the town in ages. She was bored; dejected from the lack of attention and her brother – she cast a venomous look to where her older sibling paced in front of the fireplace – hadn’t done a thing for her.
“Don’t look at me like that, Hyebin. I’m thinking.” Kai said, catching her eye.
“Well, perhaps you could think later. Isn’t this the time for action?” Hyebin cupped her face.
“Not yet; your impulse is what ruined your chances with the boy in the first place.”
Hyebin scowled.
“But don’t you worry your pretty head, darling sister, for your brother has a wonderful plan in mind.”
“Which is…?”
“Never mind you, you will go about ruining things and Jimin won’t marry you as well. You will only blame me.”
Hyebin slammed a small fist on the chaise. “Kai…tell me!” She whined but Kai only walked to the door, opening it as he tossed her a cloak. “Come on, we’re going to play nice and talk it out with Park Jimin.”
Much to their disappointment, however, and to Hyebin’s rage, when they arrives at the cottage of the Parks, it was completely dark. Not even one candle had been lit on the porch.
Kai knocked; once, twice, thrice even yelled for both Jimin and Mr. Park but the only thing to reply was the keening silence.
“They’re not here.” He mused.
“You don’t think they…left, do you?” Hyebin whispered.
“All their things are still here.” Kai’s eyebrows creased, flickers of annoyance and true anger flaming in his own eyes. “Well, we won’t stop. They have to come back some day. We’ll be ready.” He ignored the smack of his sister’s hand at his back, striding back towards the pub.
He needed a drink.
When you entered your quarters after a day of playing in the gardens with Jimin, watching him weave a crown of roses and dandelions which he placed on your head, you weren’t expecting to see Seokjin standing there with a bunch of standees and mannequins that used to be ladies in waiting for your mother.
“Um…Seokjin,” You queried even as you were swarmed with too many ceramic hands.
“’Tis the day, your highness, it is the day of your birthday! We have to have a ball in the honor!” Seokjin exclaimed.
You were shoved in a tub full of hot water and bubbles, the soap soaking into your fur. The words were enough to shoot a tendril of doubt through your heart, snaking till it looped around and squeezed. Your breath deepened as the mannequins began to scrub at you, rubbing in the water and soap till it reached the skin underneath.
It was your birthday already? No, it couldn’t be. You would remain a monster for all eternity otherwise. You would be condemned to live like this. Loveless, because who would look at you and feel anything but disgust and terror?
“Seokjin, my birthday isn’t till one another day.” You reminded the Maitre D` from behind the screen.
“The actual day isn’t of import, Princess. Besides,” He lowered his voice, “the day of your birthday will be the last day of the curse. It is make or break for us. You have to tell Jimin of your feelings for him and he has to return it. We simply cannot leave these things till the last minute.”
You remained silent, watching the mannequins use huge metal buffers to file and shine your claws.
“You…you do – you do have feelings for him, don’t you Your Highness?” Seokjin asked, misreading your silence.
You sighed, dipping further down into the water. Of course you had feelings for Park Jimin. Only an idiot would have a man like him around and not fall for his kindness, his generosity, and his open mind. Also, the small slants of his eyes, the way his lips split to reveal a gleaming smile that could halt an army, with shiny dark hair that fell into his eyes.
He was an angel.
And you were a hideous beast…
“It’s not my feelings that are a problem, Seokjin. How can someone like him ever feel for me, unless it’s fear? Maybe I haven’t earned his affection still.”
“Ah phish-posh, you forget, dearest Princess; we have all watched you and him very closely. We have seen the way he looks at you. Only a man that loves someone will have such a beam to their face.”
You sunk down further, Seokjin’s words easing the nervous grip in your chest a little. Perhaps…you did stand a chance. You could tell him of how you felt, he would tell you what he felt, and maybe you and your people can become human again.
You held the hope close as you were ushered to your own wardrobe, gowns that you had never once had the occasion of wearing, now shoved against your body and you into them, made to twirl in front of a huge mirror to check for anything to improve.
The time had come.
The gown that both Seokjin and the lady in waiting had chosen was approved by Hoseok finally, him making you swish the skirt and twirl in front of it, while pins and needles were floating around you, just in case things needed to be loosened or tightened anywhere.
You, who for almost all your life had only donned on the left behind clothes of your father of the male staff had almost giggled at the fancy attention, enjoying the feel of silk and gossamer curling around you and pooling out from your waist.
The dress was a pale gold and silver, shimmering with crimson jewels strewn about the skirt. A heavy diamond brooch glittered to where the bodice and neckline fell in a waterfall of fabric and your hair had been lifted from the mass of fur at your neck, rolled up elegantly till it lay in a soft mass on top of your head.
“Your highness,” Seokjin said finally and you were surprised at the sniff he let out discreetly. “You look beautiful. Come, your gentleman waits.”
You followed the candelabrum, exiting the room as Seokjin led you to the ballroom, to where the stairs led up to where royals made their grand entrance. You could hear light conversations down below and if you close your eyes, you could almost imagine that it was really a ball of people come to wish you good fortune on your birthday.
Maybe, if you could put aside your doubts and the harsh truths that crushed hope in your chest, you could have it someday soon.
You heard the Maestro, now transformed into a sprawling Organ, strike up a tune and Seokjin swished a golden bracket, gesturing you to walk down.
You lifted up the enormous skirts, praying to anything divine that your claws, now shortened down and sparkling, wouldn’t rip the dress anywhere and walked down the stairs, seeing everyone gathered at the base of the staircase, smiling up.
Mostly, though, you only noticed Jimin.
It was true, you hadn’t paid much attention to what kind of clothes Hoseok had been putting on Jimin for the duration of his stay here. Before, it used to be rich fabrics and embellishments that glimmered with his movements. The moment of your friendship and he began to step out had caused for simple cloths, sans coats and cloaks unless it was snowing.
Now, Hoseok seemed to have pulled all stops.
The suit that Jimin wore was all black, form fitting with studded rubies along the lapels and buttons the same shade as yours. Gold lace wound around his neck and his hair shone with the same effort, as if he’d undergone the treatment you had as well.
He smiled widely when your eyes met his, stepping forward till he reached you.
“You’re stunning.” He said and you could only muster a shaky smile, fluttering from the sincere compliment. “Happy Birthday, Y/N,” he whispered, bowing as he extended a hand for you to take.
You let your paw rest gently on his, deliberate and careful not to let him feet the real weight of it. “Thank you,” you managed a smile as wide as his, before the rest of your household gathered around you, wishes poured out and rushed words carrying you off to the cake.
Jimin was excited to see the cake, three tiers of it. Y/N’s eyes popped open wide, gaping at the sheer size of it but even as he grabbed her hand, leading her to cut into it; she was looking down, trying to muffle a smile.
He had to commend Yoongi and the entire kitchen staff. The cake was rich, fudgy and even he was rushing after that very last crumble. Finally, he felt the nudge of Taehyung, the cup around his ankle and he moved into action.
“Could I request for the birthday girl to bestow me a dance, your highness?” He stood up from his chair, slyly winking over to where Y/N put down her plate quickly, looking almost as if she was going to laugh.
“Of course, kind sir but I should warn you – I may step on your toes.”
Jimin chuckled, pulling her onto the glittering marble dance floor. “I don’t mind; you can step on my toes anytime.”
Y/N blinked down at him, Jimin could feel her breath catch at the way he would his arm around her waist and clasped her hand and couldn’t help but smile. She tried not to, moving slowly along with the way he led her, her attention focused down mostly to keep from actually crushing his feet when he stopped moving.
“Come on, let’s go look at the stars. Tonight, they’re as much more gorgeous than ever, as if they’re shining solely for you.”
He walked back with Y/N in tow, opening the balcony doors and letting her go out first before he shut them again, turning to see her stand at the rails, looking up where the stars mirrored in her golden eyes, twinkling in the sky and on the earth alike.
“So,” Jimin cleared his throat, gaining her attention again. “Are you enjoying your early birthday festivities?”
Big eyes blinked yet again at him, something shifting beneath as they were lowered. “I am, much more than I would usually, I suppose. I haven’t had a birthday in fifteen years.”
It was Jimin’s turn to blink, only in horror. “Not one in fifteen years?” he asked.
“Well, Taehyung tried, for the first two years, but then…I had no one to share it with. I had no one.”
Jimin closed in to where she stood with her back to him. His hand ached to rest along her cheek, turn her so he could look at her face but he resisted. “You have me now.”
She still didn’t turn. “Jimin…” A breath was drawn, as if steeling her for some deep resolve. He watched as your shoulders, clad in golden shimmers he wasn’t used to seeing her in slumped finally. “Are you happy here, with me?”
Jimin’s first instinct was to blurt out a simple ‘yes’. Was he happy here? Yes, he had everything he could possibly dream of and more here. He had the library, the gardens, the long winding hallways, the grottos…the silence, oh god, the blissful silence where no one bore down on him, no one judged him for not eyeing girls, not being interested in hanging out around the pub, not being Kai’s lackeys.
Was he happy with you? Of course, he, for the first time, felt someone was completely understanding and kind to him. No matter that he was perhaps the first to show her human kindness too but she let him be when he needed, listened to him read, asked him questions and challenged him. She fulfilled him in a way no one had.
No, they were two whole people. They had just found fulfillment in each other, and he was happy to call her home as much as the castle. He was happy. He was content.
Y/N didn’t seem satisfied. Her head turned fractionally, peering at him in such a fashion as to confuse Jimin. ���Wouldn’t you ask for anything else, if you could? There must be something more you could ask for.”
Jimin hesitated, once again hand hovering over her but unable to touch. “I…yes,” he sighed, dropping his hand. “I would ask to see my father again but,” he quickly rushed on, lest she be upset. “I know I can’t, so I won’t press for it.”
She turned finally, too fast for him to not be startled. “There is a way. You can see your father.”
Jimin frowned, crossing his arms, more to protect himself against the temptation than defiance. “How?”
The Princess quietly walked by him, opening the doors and carrying on, Jimin taking a moment to follow hurriedly after her, still confused and a little worried before he realized that they were tracking a familiar path to his room.
“You had a way of seeing your father all the time.” Y/N spoke, stopping by the pool in the centre of the room. She bent down over it, gesturing for Jimin to join her. “You can call out for the waters to show you what you wish for. The waters even have healing abilities. The Wizard’s token, left behind to torment me with everything I can’t see but still so that I wouldn’t be able to harm myself in any way.”
Jimin heard it all; unnerved by the way someone could hurt a little child. Yet, the allure of seeing his father was way more than the urge to console the Princess. He sat at the edge as Y/N drew away to give him space.
“Please, show me my father.” Jimin said, his voice sounding desperate even to his own ears.
The water swirled clear, one turn, two turns before deepening into a whirlpool. Images swirled at the very bed of the pool, bubbling up till they hovered over the spin of the water. Jimin watched eyes tearing from horror as his father stumbled from one tree branch, to another, panting, struggling to stay on his feet.
“Oh no, father.” He nearly shouted, before remembering his father couldn’t hear him.
“Jimin, Jimin, Jimin,” his father chanted before finally dropping down into the snow, shuddering and curling up in the frigid ground.
“No!” He sprang to his feet, the illusion breaking with his movement, subsiding into the waters again, still and clear. “My father, he’s sick. He’s alone, wandering the woods, looking for me. He could be dying. Y/N, the wolves…what if the wolves find him?”
Jimin turned around to look at you, facing the window, silent as before. He wondered if you had heard him at all.
You had heard him.
Your ears pricked, flattening against the side of your head as you processed the frantic desperation to Jimin’s voice, your mind racing with a million thoughts.
You thought back to your childhood, soft smiles and misty words now fogged with time…and then all you remembered was pain. The pain of changing and growing too many sizes too big, the eruptions of the fur, claws, having to get used to them. The pain of being unable to eat and the consequent process of starvation until Namjoon figured out how to feed you – like a dog.
The fear of being hunted mingled with the uninterrupted loneliness that no matter how much your staff tried to ebb, would never cease.
You remembered back to spending hours upon hours with the statues of your parents, wailing when it got too much, with even your own people afraid to approach you.
Then you thought back to the first day you’d met Jimin; brave and strong and so sacrificing, martyring himself for his father to stay here…with you; showing you kindness, helping you, teaching you, and even saving your life.
He’d sparked companionship for you.
How were you repaying it?
By holding him captive here? You had seen the devastation on his face that first night, the same pain that had been your constant. How could you claim to feel anything for him when you were hurting him?
You had lost everything as a child, and you had grown up used to it. You couldn’t put Jimin through the fresh agony of it. He had a life to get back to, loving people to help him.
He was human. He didn’t deserve to live with a paltry princess living in a curse.
And with that came the final blow…
How could he love someone who had torn him apart from his father? How could Jimin be fond of someone who had basically subjected his father to a pitiful, lonely death?
So you quelled the cry of your heart, steeling bands of iron around it until you could nurse its break alone. You made the decision simply because it was already set in place.
“You should go. Go back to him.” You said quietly.
There was a pause.
“What did you say?” You heard him, too close to you and you flinched away from his proximity.
“I grant you your freedom. You’re no longer my prisoner.” You turned to face him, grateful for the fur that absorbed any stray tears before they were obvious.
Jimin’s eyes were shiny as well, but you knew they were tears of joy. He gaped, his breath catching before he spoke, choked up – “Thank you.”
You watched, leaning against the window as he hurried to take off the heavy coat, instead shrugging on a simple, heavier cloak. He pulled on boots, easier to wade in the snow.
You, on the other hand, went to one of the dressers, unearthing a vial and moving to the pool, dipping and collecting the water in the shimmering glass.
“I’ll be back before you know it, Y/N. I think I’ll have to bring my father along sometime – convince him that you’re actually a big softie, none of the roaring monster that you were so kind enough to act as.”
His voice was teasing; light, even jovial as he eagerly approached you. You remained silent, handing him the vial.
“Here, take this. It’ll be useful to you. If you need to be healed…or it can help you remember me.”
Jimin’s smile faltered, looking from the proffered container back up to your eyes, now obviously dripping.
“I’m not going to be very long, Y/N. At least, not long enough for me to forget you.” He laughed, still pocketing the vial when you didn’t withdraw it. Sighing, you shook your enormous head.
“No…you can’t come back. You have to stay away. Stay with your father.” You refused to meet his eyes.
“Wait, what…what are you saying? What do you mean I have to stay away?”
“It means that you shouldn’t come back to the castle.” Your voice broke. “You have to stay in the town, maybe even go back to Paris. Live your life, Jimin; you have the rest of it. You deserve much better than living in a dilapidated castle with a monster.”
“No! No, I can’t…Y/N; you’re part of my life. I can’t…I can’t just, let you think that of yourself and your home. Y/N, you’re so important to me.”
He was reaching for you, his hand going to wrap around yours but you backed away quickly, unable to let him touch you lest you break down and beg for him to come back, to stay with you. You wouldn’t do that. You couldn’t subject him to that.
You loved him too much for that.
Instead, you fled, turning on your heel and exiting the room on all fours, ignoring his rough calls of your name. You knew he wouldn’t waste time chasing you, not with his father in that state, not with the threat of the wolves hanging about his head.
When you entered your room, your whole staff was already present, with expectant beams on their faces. You even spied Jungkook in the midst, the feather duster nearly reeking of disdain.
“Well, how did it go? Did he say it back?” Seokjin nearly shook from excitement.
You dropped your head, already dreading their reaction. “I…I let him go. His father is sick. He needed to go back.”
There was a silence so deep, so disappointed; you inwardly cringed even when Jungkook broke it with a caustic snicker.
“But…but we were so close. Why would you do that, Princess?” Namjoon asked.
You walked to the window, throwing them open to see the last vestiges of hooves vanishing in the snow. “Because, I love him,”
Y/N had been right. There had been no time for Jimin to process what had just transpired in his room, not when the cries of his father echoed through his head. He mounted Jjangu and sped off in the direction he’d gleaned his father would be. He had to be single-minded for his father for now, he decided. He couldn’t take care of the old man if his thoughts were littered with questions, with confusion, with hurt as to why it was so easy for Y/N to just tell him to leave. Did she not feel the same for him as he did her?
He knew he couldn’t disrespect her by showing up with his sick father at her doorstep after she’d told him to leave. Perhaps, after his father was healthy, he would map the course again, ask for answers, and plead to stay with her. Perhaps, he’d hurt her somehow and this was her way of protecting herself…?
Jimin sighed, laying his father back before warming water, laying thick cloths soaked in hot water along his forehead to fight the cold back. It took him back to when he’d patched Y/N up after the wolf attack and he had to shake off the thought when his father stirred, looking blearily up at him. “Jimin…you’re back!” His father sat up too quickly, holding his son at arm’s rest to check him before pulling him to his breast.
“Ah, son…I never thought I would see you again. But how…how did you escape the monster?”
Something tugged in him at his father’s tone, making him pull away from the man. “She’s not a monster, father. The legend of the Castle is true. She’s the cursed Princess…” Jimin sat at the edge of the bed, his eyes taking on the sheen of reminiscence as he recounted his journey with her till he was told to go back to his father.
He hoped perhaps, that his father would encourage him to go back, but he needed him to be stronger first, so once his tale was over, his father still gaping at how Jimin made the monster who had imprisoned him and his son sound so human, he fell asleep.
Jimin, however, didn’t. He paced back and forth from the fireplace to the bed, interrupted only by a quick, sharp knock on the door.
Scowling at the late hour, Jimin opened the door, not too pleased to see who it was on the threshold.
“Jimin,” Kai beamed, almost too familiarly as Hyebin tipped her hood back, studying Jimin as if she was planning to gut him. Her nails were digging into her brother’s arm and Jimin wondered how strong Kai had to be to not wince.
“Kai,” Jimin modulated his voice coolly. “Do you know what time it is?”
“Entirely too late, my good man,” Kai turned his head to his sister. “Didn’t I tell you it would be rude to show up right now?”
Hyebin didn’t answer.
Jimin ran a hand through his hair, frustration making him further annoyed. He needed time and space to think, to process things. His father was sick, he had been a prisoner in an enchanted castle where he had found more solace and acceptance than he had in freedom, he had fallen for a cursed Princess who might or might not return his feelings but had forbade him to return to her. He needed to make plans for his future.
He couldn’t be discourteous though, not when they’d taken the trouble of coming by.
“Come in please; my father is ill and sleeping so if you could keep your voices down and be quick about this…” He let the door fall open further. Kai and Hyebin walked in as if they weren’t going to take no for an answer anyway, shedding off their cloaks and making themselves at home.
“Well Jimin, I must say it’s a relief to see you. Your father had been by the pub, you know, raving on about you being kidnapped and all by some monster and imprisoned. We dropped by a few times later to see the house empty.” Kai said. “We all thought he’d gone mad, or you’d run away and he was just lying to make us all look for you.”
Jimin didn’t look at the taller man, feeling the pinpricks of anger flare again at the accusation. “I…yes, I’ve been away. I was at the castle. My father wasn’t lying, neither is he mad,” He said coldly.
There was a silence in which unbeknownst to Jimin, Kai and Hyebin exchanged looks.
“Wait, you’re talking about the palace? The royal palace on the hill…that’s where you were and the monster is real?” Hyebin asked, bug eyed.
“Yes, the monster is your Princess and she’s not vicious or anything, Hyebin, unlike how you described her when you told me the story. She doesn’t devour children and she doesn’t make their bones into furniture.” Jimin snapped, crossing his arms before sighing as he glanced into the fireplace, eyes and voice softening. “She’s a little short-tempered, yes but she’s kind hearted and caring and intelligent and curious. She’s my friend.”
Kai watched Jimin calculatingly, while Hyebin clenched her jaw.
“It sounds like you like her.” She said finally.
“I do. Also, it’s really late. I think I should go to bed as well.” He said. His voice left no room for argument.
Kai gave him a tight smile, his too white teeth glinting almost maliciously in the firelight. “You think…it wise to harbor such feelings for a monster, Jimin? Need I remind you this…thing is cursed and is a bad omen in our town?”
“No Kai, she isn’t. Now please, I am tired.”
For a second, he thought that Hyebin would refuse flatly but even as he steeled himself to assert himself yet again, she was standing and with Kai in tow, moved out without another word.
Jimin puffed a breath of relief, moving to douse the fireplace. The swab plunged the living space in darkness and he stretched his arms above his head, arching his back, already looking forward to his bed when he heard the hushed conversation not too far from the house.
The one thing about living so far from the town and right in the middle of a disused farm was that there was nothing to absorb sounds. Each and every noise reverberated and echoed loudly in his house, enough for him to never be startled.
He went to the window, keeping back enough to see Kai, now holding his torch above him and Hyebin, talking. While Hyebin didn’t bother to lower her voice, Kai was trying to shush her, low and hissing but even his voice carried back to Jimin’s focused ears.
“…you didn’t see his eyes, Kai. He doesn’t just like this bitch. He loves her. He won’t even hear any truths about her!” Hyebin screeched.
“You sure know how to pick them, sister. A man who’s into bestiality,” Kai snidely replied, stopping when Hyebin grabbed his collars.
“This isn’t funny. You have to talk sense into him…or…I don’t…I don’t know, we have to kill this Princess of his.” Hyebin said.
“Keep your damn voice down, will you? Is that all you can think of in your pea brain? Jimin, Jimin, Jimin; all the time…it’s annoying.” Kai snatched away his coat from Hyebin. “Think of it like this, little sister. This girl is a Princess. She is our Princess, a royal. We cannot truly establish a government because a monarch is alive.”
“What the hell does that matter?”
“Darling sister, do use sense. Jimin is here, which means this Princess doesn’t have a man around right now.”
“So…?”
Jimin heard Kai snap his jaw. “So, sister, I go and I marry her. Simple, and effective; I become King, all powerful and she is out of your way. I will command Jimin to marry you and since you will be royal; he cannot hope to refuse.”
“You…you cannot be serious, Kai. I mean, are you really going to do that? She’s an animal.” Hyebin’s shock was palpable even to Jimin.
“Well, of course I don’t intend to honor the marriage wholly. I’m a hunter, aren’t I? Think of it like my greatest hunt, one that makes us the most powerful pair here. Plus, who’s to know…? Maybe the Princess meets a little accident a few days after our wedding. At least the kingdom will have a king they know and trust; they will only see it more as a sacrifice on my part.”
“You’re…despicable, brother.” Hyebin’s lips trembled before stretching into a cruel smile that looked odd on her beautiful face. “But a genius,”
“I know that. Now hurry up, we need to go to the pub and collect a mob. I cannot go alone in case the Princess tries to get aggressive. I’m going to need witnesses just in case we need to come back and convince Jimin his lovely Princess was actually a monster after all.”
Jimin was moving even before the fleck of light completely vanished from sight.
All thoughts and feelings of exhaustion melted from his body, arms and legs regaining energy as he burst into his father’s room. The old man started awake from the sound, jolting and clutching the sheets as he looked at the manic light in Jimin’s eyes.
“Son, what – what’s the matter?”
“I have to go father. I have to go back to the castle. Y/N is in danger.” Jimin rushed his words, tossing things from dressers till he found a bag, throwing some matches and a torch into it. He patted his pockets for the vial of pool water Y/N had given him, about to turn for the door when his father clasped his shoulders.
“No! I just got you back; I cannot let you go back there!”
“Father, you don’t understand. Kai…he’s taking a mob to her! They’re going to kill her, all because I opened my mouth.”
Jimin’s father wavered, his grip loosening only slightly.
“Come with me, then. See for yourself.” Jimin moved past the old man, not waiting for him to follow. However, when he reached Jjangu, who raised his head quizzically, his father, was right there, climbing on behind his son.
Praying that he wouldn’t be too late, he leaned over to Jjangu’s ear.
“Come on boy, we’re going home to our Princess.”
Jjangu whinnied, rising up on his front legs and then they were racing from the stable, in the direction of the palace.
Jjangu thankfully took the way that they were most familiar with, through the woods. Even as they surpassed the town, he could see the lit fires, domestic weapons of all sorts raised as cries and shouts filled his ears. They were breaking down the blockade; he realized when he saw the closed bookshop, going only the way they knew.
His fault…his fault…
Jimin shook his head, nudging Jjangu to go faster. He had to reach Y/N before Kai did, or he would never forgive himself.
The fire leapt high and powerful, licks of warmth flaring out against where you sat with your back to the muttering and mourning gossips of your royal staff.
You knew that the moment you’d spilled out the truth about how you’d sent Jimin away, even forbidding him to ever set foot back in the castle, you’d basically condemned your entire household and yourself to a grim fate, but could you condemn him to one as well? No, you couldn’t. Besides, you were used to this now, used to living like an animal. Jimin shouldn’t have to live in company of one for the rest of his life.
Behind you, Jungkook led most of the ranting. “I’m telling you; this was the plan all along. Get the Mistress all soft and mushy so he could get out of here first chance he could get.”
“Jungkook,” Yoongi sighed. “His father was sick.”
“So, all our families are probably dead now. We won’t ever get to see them now, or even to see their gravestones.”
You knew he was right. Maybe it was ok to live with yourself like this, but sacrificing your own people to this curse made guilt creep up your throat tenfold.
“Perhaps, we shouldn’t have gotten as attached to him as we did, even before knowing what his obligations were.” Seokjin said.
You were about to turn to snap at them all to get back to their chores when Namjoon suddenly squeaked, the clogs of his clockwork chiming anxiously.
“Wait, wait, there’s someone coming…OH lords above! Princess, Princess, it’s the townsfolk, invading the castle gates. It’s a mob!”
“Wait, what…?” You nearly fell off the chair, confused when the doors to the sitting room were flung open again, a squad of soldier armor leading a panting Jimin in.
“Y/N…mob, people are coming for you…run!” He managed to puff out before leaning his weight on his knees, drawing heavy breaths.
You blinked quickly. Didn’t you tell him not to come back? But he was here now, come to warn you about the mob…worrying for your safety.
“Jimin…” You breathed, “You came back.”
You drew closer to the wheezing man, a paw running along his smooth cheek.
“Of course, I did. I had to warn you.” Jimin looked up at you, time slowing as your gazes remained suspended. He placed his own hand on yours, squeezing it even as Jungkook broke it in his rasp.
“Well now, that’s sweet. So, are we to assume you led the mob here before promptly losing courage?”
You and Jimin both turned to look at the feather duster now propped up on a dresser, eyeing Jimin with as much disdain as you had seen him do you. Jimin gaped, flabbergasted while you were ready to rip out all his feathers.
“Jungkook, he came to warn us. Don’t be an idiot.” Namjoon said roughly.
“I can’t believe you’d lap that up, sir. He left here, went back home to tend to his ill father, so he said, and now he’s back…with encroachers on his heel. Why would you believe him? Because of the pool; the waters are also subject to imagination, Namjoon, or have you forgotten?”
“Enough, we cannot fight amongst ourselves, we have to protect the castle and our Princess.” Yoongi said. He turned to the soldiers, ordering for them to gather the rest of the household up and prepare for defenses.
“Ask him, Princess. Ask your dearest if he told them or not.”
You rolled your eyes at Jungkook, turning, however, to Jimin. It was better to put this to rest. “Tell him, then, tell him you didn’t.”
Jimin was still looking at Jungkook, a peculiar expression of conflict gathering his eyebrows together.
“Jimin…” You prompted.
“I…” He looked at you then, and just the look in his eyes – wide, pleading, had your hand slipping from him.
“See,” Jungkook said, as Namjoon, Seokjin, Yoongi and Taehyung gaped at their friend. “I told you, he told them.”
“Jimin, tell me you didn’t.” You whispered.
“I – I did, but I had no idea -,”
“That they were going to take advantage of the fact that a whole castle was left unattended and come to loot it? Or that they were going to come to kill and behead the Princess so they could mount her head upon their walls?”
“Why…how could you?”
Jimin looked at you again, away from the brewing anger and distrust of the staff. “Y/N, try and understand. I only told the truth, I told them you were harmless.”
“You’re lying.” Jungkook hissed.
You watched his hand try to reach for you, pull at you, but you drew away, cringing away from his touch. He stuttered in his steps, looking at you, beseeching.
“Princess,” Namjoon called softly, “what are your orders?”
You looked away from Jimin, reminding yourself you had duties to perform. “Keep safe the castle. My parents…they shouldn’t have to see their home seized in front of their eyes.” Your anger flared as you glared at Jimin finally. “Remind them that there still is a monster in the castle.”
Without another word, you dropped down on all fours and leaped clean over Jimin’s head, bounding for the roof from where you could see everything and lead stray invaders away from your people and home.
Your orders were followed to a tee. Thousands of household goods launched an attack on the people who were mostly comprised of men, having no idea how to operate the basic home wares.
Drawers smacked into jaws, hot water and oil were poured on head, knives and burning torches chased men around until they thought it better to just leave the castle alone and crawl away, defeated.
You stood on top of the parapets, watching your subjects nurse and curse over their bruised and burned extremities, retreating from your home. Perhaps, there would be no reason for the monster to show up after all. No legends would pass around; no one would spread talk to lure hunters and thieves to your home.
You didn’t go down though, instead, curling into yourself on the edge of the roof.
As happy as you were about the prospect of people leaving you alone, you had to contend with the fact that it was Jimin, the man you trusted, the man you loved who had ruthlessly allowed people to come hunt for you. You had mattered nothing to him. It would’ve been better to have someone draw a knife through your heart now, it might’ve hurt less than the betrayal.
“Oh Princess,”
Your ears pricked.
“There you are. You know, when I didn’t see a huge, hunkering monster down below I was worried Jimin might have lied.”
The voice was unfamiliar, nasty and it grated on your nerves so you stayed still, hoping the person would mistake you for a statue and pass by.
“Apparently, the poor boy hadn’t lied. He was so in misery you see, had to come back, leaving his little lady behind. Someone had to convince him that a princess needs a real man around for a husband.”
You frowned, feeling it draw closer.
“So I have a proposition. You marry me and we live happily enough. I’ll even throw in a wedding kiss.”
The footsteps behind you stopped, and you hoped that your silence had fooled him enough until they started again. “Now, Princess, it’s rude to not acknowledge a man talking to you. Turn around; let’s see what got Jimin so dewy eyed. I have to see if you’re worth all the talk.”
You remained still.
“Turn around now.”
You ignored him.
A sharp, plunging pain ripped through your back, making you gasp and seize up. Something pinched at the centre of your back, protruding out and you knew it was an arrow, turning to see the tall man, draw another from his quiver, placing it on his bow.
“Well now, looks like we’ve found our communication link. Are you going to be nice, now?”
You flailed, clawing behind to draw out the agonizing spike from your body.
“No use. I have perfect aim. Now, stop dancing and listen unless you want another to keep it company in your chest.”
He drew back the bow string.
“KAI, STOP!”
You stopped as well, seeing the man – Kai – turn around to look at where Jimin stood on the top most balconies, leaning almost all the way down. You took advantage of the momentary distraction of the hunter, throwing your full weight at him.
Your muscles and joints screamed at your movements, huge as they were, weighing you further down as the man turned quickly to you, trying to aim the arrow towards your body. You gripped his hand, twisting it out of the way.
“This is a nice surprise! Seems like you really are a monster, and here you were hoping for a human companion!” The Hunter laughed maniacally, shaking hair out of his eyes.
You growled, pulling the hunter close enough to snatch his bow, snapping it with a simply pinch of your fingers. “Get out of my house.” You gripped his throat, squeezing just enough for him to be able to tell. “Never come back…or I will kill you.” You flung the man away from him as the disgusting being that he was, backing away.
Adrenaline fading, the fatigue of blood loss raised its ugly head again, faltering your steps and blurring your vision.
“Y/N, here, come here, you’re hurt.”
You turned once again to where Jimin stood, his hand extended for you and stumbled towards him, shaky feet nearly throwing you over the edge more than once. You reached near him, raising your hand to grasp his and began to climb.
“You’re still here.” You choked.
“Of course, I had to clear things up.” Jimin smiled, eyeing you carefully.
You made to return the smile when another scream of pain tore through you, making Jimin jump before he saw the knife embedded deep in your side.
“NO!” He roared, feeling you slip from his fingers when he saw Kai’s added weight clinging to your cloak.
Your back curved backwards; Kai gripping the back of your cloak and hair in a tight fist. His lips split in a wide, sinister smile. “Go on Jimin, pull us up. You save her, you save me.”
Jimin snarled a curse at Kai, eyes darting from your drooping eyes to Kai’s bright ones. He couldn’t save Kai, he knew that. Left alive, he’d keep coming back again and again. You would never truly be safe with Kai alive.
“It’s okay…”
Jimin’s eyes snapped to Y/N, narrowing at the small smile tugging at your lips in puzzlement.
“It’s okay; you have to let me go…”
“What, no, I’m not going to -,”
“It’s better this way.”
“Y/N, no, Kai let her go!”
“I love you, Jimin. I’m…I suppose this is goodbye.”
Jimin opened his mouth to shout for you to hold on when all sound stopped short. You opened your paw, his own hand too weak to hold up all the weight of your body and Kai together. He watched, too slow to move, too stunned to understand as your eyes closed, still smiling while Kai’s eyes widened, almost comically, smile fading and mouth opening in a silent scream as you both fell.
There was no time for Jimin to even scream for you.
Everything was numb. Everything was silent.
Well, in all actuality, a battle had waged around him, promptly won by the small but mighty objects of Y/N’s household. Cheers of victory and joy could be heard from the lower rungs of the Castle. It was just that Jimin’s eyes could only see Y/N’s last smile, hear her last confession and feel her hand slipping from his.
All he knew was that Y/N was down here somewhere – ironically, falling right into her parent’s grotto – and he had to reach her. Nothing else mattered.
The soft grass of the grotto crushed and crumbled under Jimin’s boots, as he walked and broke into aching jogs as he spied the huge mass of fur on its side, reminiscent of when he’d seen Y/N topple over after saving him from the wolves. The memory stung his chest now.
“Y/N,” he gasped seeing Kai’s body almost completely trapped under hers, his fist still closed around her clothes.
He bent over, ripping his hand away and rolling his dead body away till it lay feet away, open eyes dead and unseeing, his laughter finally fading into nothingness.
Falling to his knees, he heaved Y/N’s head onto his arms, propping it against his shoulder. Her eyes were closed as well; smile gone and he could spot a trickle of blood running from the corner of her mouth into the fur. His hand trailed down to the knife in her side, slowly, gently easing it out and tossing far away from her as both arms came to wrap around her, rocking.
“Y/N, hey, it’s okay, come on wake up. He’s gone. Kai’s dead and every one fled. You’re safe now.” He hushed.
She lay still, too still, not even shifting a little in answer to his voice.
“Y/N,” Jimin vowed now to give up so soon. She had to be alive, she was probably just unconscious. He tapped her cheeks, ran his fingers through the mass of her hair and fur.
“Y/N, please, I’m so sorry.” He buried his head against her neck, taking in a whiff of the musk that he was so used to now. There was a change now; it smelt too metallic, too…sodden. “Please, wake up.”
She couldn’t be dead…she couldn’t leave him like this; not after saying she loved him and pulling off such a ridiculous stunt.
His body shook, feeling the chill settle in. Somehow, Y/N’s body that radiated so much warmth normally wasn’t enough to keep the cold away now. Jimin shuddered, drawing her closer before closing his eyes finally. A sob choked its way out his lips, followed by a sound that was too close to Y/N’s own agonized ones.
“Please, come back, Y/N, please, I love you too. So much, so much, please,” he rocked faster, more to keep himself moving than to shake her awake. He couldn’t stop moving, it would only mean for him to accept that Y/N wasn’t moving as well and that she was…she was.
His tears soaked through her fur.
“Now, this is quite the unfortunate situation.”
Jimin hiccupped, looking up to where someone new had joined them in the grotto. For a wild second he thought that it was Kai but no. This man was much taller, skinnier, even unhealthy looking.
A snap echoed from behind him and he jumped, looking about to see a very familiar pack of wolves surrounding him, grinning and tongues lolling. He pulled Y/N closer but the wolves didn’t seem to intent on attacking, instead collecting behind the new arrival.
Jimin squinted, wiping off the blurring tears to see the man was known to him.
“You,” He said at the bookseller who peered down at the cursed Princess with something akin to bitterness.
“Me,” The old man hummed, turning to face the wolves and Jimin was astounded to see that a wave of this man’s hand was enough to line them neatly up.
“How…I thought you never left the bookshop. Did you come with Kai?”
“Kai?” The bookseller laughed, caustic casting a cursory glance at the dead man feet away. “That pathetic excuse for a human and you think he’d have any sort of influence over me?”
Jimin watched as the man drew himself to full height before light erupted out from somewhere in his chest, blinding Jimin and making him feel colder than he did before. Once he felt the light fade from his screwed up eyelids, he peeked through, gaping in disbelief.
Long black robes swirled around the now, considerably younger man, almost as if it was sewn directly from the shadows around him. Long sleeves fell back to reveal tattoos in a language Jimin had never seen before, glowing even till the skin of his bald head and face.
“Not quite who you expected, I see.” The man said.
Jimin was still trying to put together the old bookseller who had been so friendly to him transformed into this being when with a clatter and loud clangs they were surrounded with more things – this time on Y/N’s side.
Namjoon’s clock chimed angrily, Seokjin’s fiery wick gleaming in the dark as they caught the man standing over Jimin and Y/N. “The Wizard,” They gasped, followed quickly by Yoongi and the others who skid to a halt.
“Be gone, monster! You have killed our Mistress!” Yoongi clattered.
“You’re the one who cursed Y/N.” Jimin said, realization dawning over him like a pot of cold water. However, there was no fear in his voice. After all what was the use? Y/N was dead, neither she nor he could be hurt any further.
“Now, now, calm please. Is that any way to greet the man about to grant you salvation?” The Wizard raised his palms.
“You cursed us too swine!” Namjoon yelled.
“I did. And I fully intended to come back on her birthday to remind her that she owed herself to me if she wanted to have her life and loved ones back. It seems,” He looked down at Jimin cradling her body and again there was strange bitterness to his gaze, “I have been rendered useless. She has found love…I didn’t think it would’ve been possible.”
He looked up.
“So now, here, my word means something in the world.” Light shone again, only this time it was blue.
Jimin watched the light move out from the Wizard, creeping slowly to where Y/N lay against him. The light cocooned her, moving forward till it had surrounded everyone present in the grotto and on and on till all he could see was blue.
Jimin’s proximity helped in seeing Y/N, and he clasped her protectively, worried the light was going to further cause her harm. Only, it didn’t. Instead, her weight began to ease up off of Jimin. Fur receded and fell off from her body to reveal smooth skin, wet and smeared with visible blood, fangs shrunk back, and ears flattened and became smaller.
The huge mass of a creature began to slowly shrivel, until all that remained in his arms could no longer pass off as an animal. No, this was laughably, astonishingly, human.
Jimin raised a hand inquisitively, running it through the strands of hair that were now free from the matting of fur, his hand coming back red.
“She’s…”
“Back to normal…or rather what she would’ve grown up to be; that’s about as normal as I can make her.” The Wizard snorted at his own joke.
“Is…your highness,” Jimin turned to see that there were people in the grotto, no longer just objects.
A tall tanned man stood foremost, dimples poking out as a wondrous smile lit up his face, hands running over his suit. “I…I’m a man again!”
“Or how much you were before,” Another spoke, taller than the first, golden hair falling into his eyes.
“Gentlemen, calm down!” A shorter man barked.
These were strangers to Jimin, or maybe not. He looked back up at the Wizard, ignoring the joyous reunions behind him. “She’s…still dead.”
“Yes, but then, the way to bring her back to life is with you, isn’t it?”
Jimin was about to ask what he meant when he remembered the vial. The vial full of the pool water, that Y/N had said had healing abilities.
He delved deep, bringing out the mercifully intact vial before upending it completely into Y/N’s open mouth.
He waited, with bated breath as moments passed. And then – skin knitted back together, the grey pallor of her face smoothed till a healthy glow seeped in her cheeks.
With a huge shaky breath, Y/N opened her eyes again, fumbling with her body as if it scratched at her.
“Y/N, hey, Y/N,” Jimin grabbed her hands, much smaller and claw less, fitting into his easily.
Big, wide, fearful eyes met Jimin’s. “J-Jimin?”
“Yes, it’s me.” Jimin placed his head against hers, taking in a deep inhale that wasn’t of musk but of bloodied skin, of sorrow, or uncertainty. Closing his eyes and hoping for the best, Jimin turned his head to place his lips swiftly on yours.
There was no reciprocation at first, worrying Jimin that perhaps, he’d pushed you too far too fast. However, he felt your small hand move past his neck into his hair, entwining with the strands to hold him against you.
He moved away from your face, reminding himself that you still needed time and space to learn physical love when your eyes, now bright with unshed tears landed on something behind him.
It took him a bit to register the utter silence, hushed conversation behind him and he turned to see that the huge statues that used to be the only decorations in the grotto were no longer there, instead right behind him stood a couple, too familiar.
“Mama! Daddy!”
Y/N fled Jimin’s arms, instead throwing herself into her parent’s arms. Jimin fell back from the impact; quickly picking himself up to see the pair wrap their tight arms around their daughter, tears streaking through dirty, muddied faces.
The man was tall, his wife regal as they still retained the glow of youth, having spent their lives inanimate. Their daughter may have grown in front of their eyes but there was near to no difference in ages, Jimin noticed. He turned his head, but the Wizard and his pack of wolves were long gone.
Y/N shirt and pants were also now tattered, too huge on her now smaller body. Jimin tugged off his coat, wrapping it delicately around her shoulders when a hand stopped him from moving away. He looked at the queen, small crown still perched into her mussed hair who smiled at him.
“Thank you,” she mouthed, tugging him closer till he was hugging Y/N from the back as well, and Jimin couldn’t be more grateful at the gesture.
The moments, hell, the days after the…incident, or rather your birthday had been all muddles and stumbling through time. As a cursed monster, time had seemed to stretch, with you craving love and companionship simply because you’d been told that they would break your curse. The very notion of these emotions had become a means to an end.
You had so much to learn, you realized when you stepped back into a castle that had no broken ceilings, no gaping holes, no smears of dirt and growing moss. The stones gleamed, jewels sparkled, sculptures loomed, just as they had in your distant memories.
Everyone stared, even the members of your household who had lived with you forever. You supposed you weren’t the only ones in need of reacclimatizing.
Chamber maids and maids in waiting dragged you and your mother away almost immediately. You were washed, scrubbed, hair oiled and washed and scented, similar to the ball but only this time the gown they put you in felt too big, too airy for you. Your skin, used to being protected by masses of fur and hard muscles shuddered at the gauzes and weightlessness of your new things.
Mirrors and portraits, previously smashed or torn by your claws had been reinstated and you had spent hours just staring at the unfamiliar face in the reflection. You weren’t a child anymore; you weren’t the beast you were used to seeing in cracks of glass and shards of mirrors. You had grown into a young maiden and you had no idea who you were.
The resurgence of a bustling royal palace, with many of the staff setting out to locate their families had created a buzz. Kai, the hunter had been dragged away and Hyebin, his sister as Jimin told you had been tried for conspiracy for murder.
Of course, things hadn’t become hunky dory fast. Things still needed to be sorted out, a monarchy had to be established because the so called government that had put Kai in charge in the first place was found now corrupt, seeing how easy it had been to rile up the public on the word of one man with no proof at all.
You left your father to handle these matters. Your mother had something much more stressful for you to think about.
Whether or not you wanted to marry Park Jimin…
You knew he was in the palace somewhere, along with his father. He’d come seen you but there hadn’t been much conversation. You had been too unsure of your own self, of your new or rather old body and you wondered if Jimin liked you as a human as much as he had when you were a creature.
“Don’t be silly,” Jimin had said, once on a slow walk around the garden. Your steps were much slower now, smaller feet tended to do that but none of you were in a hurry. It seemed Jimin was as eager to know the new you as you were. “I loved you when you were covered in fur and I love you now, even though I must say I was hoping to introduce a few of my friends to my beastly fiancée.” You had smacked his arm, unsettled at the joke even though he wrapped his arms around your waist.
“Don’t worry so much about this. The curse is past. No one and I mean it, will ever hurt you now. They’ll have to go through me.”
The burning sincerity in his eyes and voice left no room for you to argue or doubt.
And so, you shyly visited your parents that very evening, hand looped in your lover’s, asking for their blessing to marry him.
Your engagement to Jimin lasted longer than any a royal was supposed to have, stretching out for months as you relearned human life. You were taught to walk properly on two legs, carrying things with a tiara affixed to your hair. For days you would bat at your hair when the pins keeping it in place pinched or pulled at you.
You learned how to dress yourself, how to put on various forms of jewelry, how to take baths and resumed your studies and royal duties.
Suffice it to say, you were now missing your animalistic life at times, you were so exhausted.
However, Jimin was a constant, learning with you, talking you through the harder aspects, supportive, encouraging, and absolutely perfect. It was also getting hard to keep your hands to yourself when it came to your private moments.
Physical love was one aspect that you absolutely dreaded touching upon. You wondered if you would be good enough, if Jimin would find pleasure in you or if you would find pleasure in him. He did place chaste kisses against your skin and lips when he thought it was okay to do so and you had only found him losing control once. It had been late at night when he visited you and had read to you till you were drowsy. With only a mind to gently kiss you goodnight, he had leant in only to be trapped by your hands, trying to get as close as you could to him.
He’d gripped at you, trying to pry out of your touch but had melted fast, molding and pressing you to your mattress. You had felt him growing aroused against your pelvic bone, rutting against you, gasping when he pulled away, blinking and shaking hair out of his eyes.
“Now now, love, we have time.” He’d pecked your cheek, disentangling himself from you before almost limping out.
Soon enough, it was time for the main event of your life.
Namjoon, Seokjin, Yoongi, Hoseok, Taehyung and Jungkook returned in days time, bringing what was left or added to their families and they stayed on till after your wedding took place.
Jungkook had mellowed in the face of his parents being alive, fifteen years older of course but delighted to have him back. He’d wished you well, but not apologized for his earlier behavior – you didn’t expect him to either.
Your parents had gone above and beyond for the wedding, throwing the lavish event for the entire town and further to come attend. Your gown was created for weeks, Hoseok personally supervising the process so that when you walked down the altar finally, upon your teary eyed father’s arm; you erased all thoughts that you had been a monster for most of your life prior.
You left the palace for your honeymoon, following Jimin’s advice to leave the royal duties to your still young and hearty parents while you took some time with your husband, so you could acquaint yourself both to him and to the world that he wanted to show you.
You knew where to start the journey of course, with your groom’s lips twitching at the very first words that tumbled out during the ceremonial dance.
“Please,” you’d whispered, laying your head close to his heart.
“Anything for you, darling,” Jimin had whispered back, smile obvious in his voice. “Paris it is.”
Jimin might not ever get used to the feeling of you fitting into his arms, you thought to yourself, glancing at your now husband, ever so often.
He’d lifted you up into his arms the moment you’d stepped off the carriage, beaming about something called the threshold ceremony, carrying you through the doors of the French villa carefully.
“Satisfied?” You asked when he stood still, eyeing the windows in contemplation.
“I’m wondering if I’m missing something but I can’t think of anything as of yet. So yes, here you go.” He placed you down, letting you walk through the house while he watched over the servants who carried through your luggage.
A late meal later, you stood at the mirror in the bedroom, painstakingly pulling out the multiple pins from the up-do your hair had been twisted in, your husband peeking in with a mischievous grin.
“Having fun?”
“No,” You grumbled, your arms dropping from the strain. Jimin walked up behind you, beginning to quickly pull out the multitudes of metal from your hair that would make a magnet drool. “Why are there so many?”
“Look on the bright side,” Jimin muttered, delving deeper into your scalp, “For the rest of our honeymoon, you could be completely free from all of this, until of course we have to go back.”
You glanced up at him quickly, seeing the darkening expression brooding on your husband’s face as he dropped the final pins on to the dresser.
“I was thinking.”
“Yes,” you squeaked out embarrassingly.
“Well, we’re all alone now, so we don’t have to be worried about anyone walking in on us.”
You turned around completely, confused. “That’s what you were worried about?”
“Of course,” his smile flickered. “What else would I be worried about?”
Your eyes fell, feeling all sorts of stupid now. “I just thought…maybe you didn’t…you know, feel that way about me now.”
A finger brushed under your chin, tilting your face back up. “Love, I married you.”
“Yes but,”
“Mm, but nothing, come on; let me show you what I feel for you.”
Jimin’s arms, much stronger than you had given him credit for swooped under your thighs, lifting you up to wrap your legs around his waist swiftly. As a monster, you had never given thought to how powerful Jimin really was, but now when you were human, much more fragile than you were used to, he was blatantly flaunting his strength.
You couldn’t fault him for that.
Your husband dropped you onto the centre of the massive bed, arms balancing his weight over you. “Are you okay about this? I don’t want to force you into anything that you’re uncomfortable with.”
“No,” you reached for him, winding arms around his neck. “I’m fine, I want to feel you. I want to learn this with you.”
Your eyes closed automatically when he kissed you, sweetly but strongly, tongue laving over your lips, slipping between with less to no battle from you. Your mouth parted easily for him, letting him plunder moans from you.
“Fuck,” Jimin breathed, pulling away before his eyes were widening. “Oh, I’ve never cursed like that before.”
His cheeks were so red, you couldn’t help but laugh. “No worries, I’ve never made someone curse like that before either.”
Jimin’s fingers trailed to the ties of your night shift. “Perhaps, we’re a bad influence upon one another.”
“Perhaps,” your breath caught in agreement, Jimin’s fingers pulling at a peaking nipple while his head lowered to suckle on the other. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all, my darling wife,” his lips were curved wickedly when he resurfaced; sitting up to remove the cotton night shirt he wore and tugging off the gown from your body right after.
You lay naked under him, open for his perusal and taking. Your hand shifted up, trying to pull the sheets up to cover some of your modesty until Jimin caught up, taking your hands to place them right there.
“There,” His mouth opened, tongue rubbing over his swollen bottom lip. “Do you feel that? That’s what I feel for you. You don’t need to hide from me love, never ever. I have loved you before, I love you now and I will continue to love you more for all our days to come. Do you understand?”
You meekly nodded.
Jimin’s eyes flashed down your body, knees parting yours before his hand touched your bare core, running over the nub in circles. “Am I understood, love?”
“Yes-yes,” you gasped, neck falling back for him place kisses even as a finger slipped through inside of you, thick but gentle, stretching you just so.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, I understand.”
“Good,” Jimin removed his hand, placing the digit in his mouth, eyes still firm between your legs. Normally the lecherous look on any man would have you burst with rage but Jimin had you nearly quivering in anticipation, especially when he finally pushed down his trousers.
You had never seen a cock before, never having any contact with a human male, but you had to say Jimin’s was an impressive specimen. Thick in girth and flushed a sensuous red, the head throbbed in need before he was guiding himself to your body.
“Ready, love, I need you to breathe with me.”
Jimin dropped low on you, lips tugging and pushing at yours, his spare hand clasping your breast to distract you as he pushed in. your knee bent, curving over his hip as you gasped, eyes watering at the sharp pinching sensation deep within you. Your husband halted, waiting for the expression of discomfort and pain to pass from your face, fingers brushing away any stray moisture from the corner of your eyes.
“I…I’m okay, please move.” You told him, Jimin studying you carefully before he drew back, thrusting in experimentally. The first drags of his hips, followed by the slow plunges still made you bite down your lips, screw up your eyelids before you found your rhythms.
Jimin ended up with his hand at your nub, rubbing it in gentle circles, lighting sparks in your nerves with the motion of his lovemaking, your nails digging into your lover’s back and shoulder, trying to get as close as possible.
The first jolt of climax nearly made you cry out, burying your face in his neck to muffle the sounds when he followed, heavy grunts falling unabashed from his lips, hands twining with the strands of your hair to seal your lips in a clumsy kiss as he spilled deep into you.
Rolling over, with your head safely clasped in the nook of his arm, Jimin sighed contentedly, warm hand against your back.
“Jimin,”
“Yes, love.”
“So…what happens now?”
Your husband turned his head to give you a sleepy grin.
“Now we’ll live happily ever after.”
#ksmutclub#notyourdamsels#btsbookclub#smutcentralnet#ficswithluv#jimin fanfic#bts fanfic#jimin smut#bts smut#jimin angst#bts angst#jimin fluff#bts fluff#jimin#bts#park jimin
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The Prince Roman
Fandom: Sanders Sides, Anatasia AU Pairing: Roceit, Logicality Characters: Roman, Deceit, Logan, Patton, Virgil Notes: Day 9 of the fluffuary event being hosted by @tsshipmonth2020 - Roceit Summary: When the Orange Mage took the throne, three of the royal family survived. When Virgil, brother to the True King, took it back, only two returned. King Regent Virgil will do anything to bring his nephew Roman home.
Ro's not sure he's the prince, no matter what Dante says. But hey, worth a shot right?
AO3
--
“Do you?” Dante asked, stressed, staring into Roman’s sparkling eyes. And then Roman’s eyes slipped shut and he leant forward, pressing their lips together in a way Dante had been dreaming off since that dance. Maybe earlier. “Oh.” Dante breathed when they finally pulled apart. “You do.”
When the Orange Mage took the throne, there was a bloodbath. The King was killed quickly, his body later displayed brutally to keep the nay-sayers quiet. Most of the guards were killed or imprisoned. Any loyal servants were quickly weeded out. All were made examples off.
Except, that is, for three.
A rather problematic three, for the Orange Mage. For the bodies that did not join the red soaked ground all have rightful claims to the throne he had stolen.
The King’s younger brother, Virgil. Who was old enough to pose a credible threat if not tracked down.
And the twin heirs to the throne - Roman and Remus. Too young to organize a rebellion, but dangerous in their own rights. Those children were symbols of hope to those that still supported the old king. Symbols that the Orange Mage didn’t have complete control.
Desperate for that control, the Orange Mage spent the better part of his reign trying to hunt them down and kill them.
He did not succeed.
Instead, Virgil snuck into the castle and killed the false king himself.
By all rights he could have claimed the throne then and there. He refused.
“I am not the King.” He huffed at advisors desperate to give someone the crown. “I will be King Regent until the true heir comes of age, and even then only begrudgingly.”
“You have the twins?” Someone asked, pure hope and joy on their face. Virgil hesitated.
“I have Remus.” He finally said. “Roman is missing.”
--
Dante didn’t care much for the politics of any of that. The new king meant nothing to him, even if things in the kingdom seemed marginally better now. For everyone else. Not for him though, not for the man with the cursed face.
So no, Dante didn’t care that the King had been replaced. Or restored. Or whatever. No, what he cared about was the monetary reward for Prince Roman’s discovery and return.
--
Ronnie, Ro to his friends, didn’t care much for the politics of the castle either. He’d imagined, once or twice, that he was secretly a prince sent to the orphanage for protection. Any day his father, a king, would come and collect him and they’d live a blessed life. Of course, he’d known they were only fantasies but something deep instead him ached when they didn’t come true.
So no, Ro didn’t care that the King had been restored. He’d hardly even heard the news. But when Dante looked at him and said ‘you know, you just might be the missing prince’, something had felt so very right.
--
Logan cared deeply for the politics of the castle. He’d been quite close to the royal family, closer still to the royal cook. When the castle had been invaded, Logan had been away. In just a moment he’d lost everything.
So yes, Logan cared quite a bit that the Royal family had been restored. But it wasn’t easy for a man of nothing to get to the castle, and Dante was a trustworthy man. At least to his friends.
--
“This is ridiculous.” Ro complained as they went through table set ups and the importance of the person to your right verses the person to your left. “Why do I have to learn all this stuff? Wouldn’t Regent Virgil just, recognize me or whatever?”
“There are many people you have to convince before you can reach the Regnant.” Logan pointed out. “They will expect you to know all of this.”
“Then they’re ridiculous.” Ro huffed.
“Don’t tell me you’re giving up now Ro, I thought you were better than that.” Dante mocked from his own spot, entirely unaffected by the look Logan shot his way.
“Oh please, you couldn’t tell the difference between a soup spoon and a dessert spoon if your life depended on it.” Ro mocked right back.
“If we could focus.” Logan called.
--
“If you hate this so much just leave.” Dante huffed, growing more and more annoyed at Ro’s complaining by the day.
“I am not going to leave!” Ro snapped, as annoyed by Dante’s constant teasing as Dante was with him.
“Why not? What’s so important you just have to stick around? Or do you just love complaining that much?”
“Family, damnit!” Ro all but screamed, startling them both. He looked away and Dante could just barely make out tears in his eyes. “Is it so unbelievable that I just… want a family? A place I belong?” Hand subconsciously going to the side of his face, Dante could only sigh.
“No, it’s not.” He mumbled. Pulling his hand away he sighed again. “Pass me your hand, let’s try again.”
“You aren’t going to mock me every step of the way again, are you?” Ro asked and De winced.
“I won’t.” He promised. “How about we just… try all of this again?”
“...okay.” Ro whispered. “Okay let’s.”
Looking down at them from the balcony, Logan wasn’t sure how to feel. It was good to see them getting along, it was good to see Dante’s focus on their plan shifting. But watching them dance, smile, and even laugh together, Logan wondered what they do if Ro really was Roman. A cursed man and a prince wasn’t exactly a conventional royal romance.
--
“Patton.” Logan breathed, staring at the man who’d entered the room. “You’re alive.”
“Logan!” The cook cheered, all but leaping into the man’s arms. “Oh, I thought I’d lost you.”
“And I you.” Logan returned, clinging to Patton just as tightly. Behind them, Ro leant towards Dante to fake whisper.
“Did you know he could do that?”
“Do what?” Dante asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Have emotions.” Roman elborated.
“I had no idea.” Dante smirked, their teasing earning an eye roll from their friend and a chuckle from Patton.
“Sorry.” Patton said, letting go of Logan and helping him straighten out his clothing. “I didn’t see you two there.”
“Or it’s quite alright, we see you were distracted.” Dante assured. Even now, Patton had hardly looked away from Logan. But, eventually, he cleared his throat and turned to the two.
“Who are your friends Logan?” He asked.
“This is Dante and Ro. Dante helped me quite a deal these past years and Ro… well we believe Ro may be the missing prince.” Logan explained.
“We’re hoping, anyway.” Ro mumbled. “I don’t… I don’t really remember where I come from.”
“Oh that is so exciting!” Patton grinned. “And you do look so much like Remus. If you were cleaned up and fed a little better, and had his terrible mustache. Oh I can almost see it! It’s so good to see you again Roman!”
“T-thankyou.” Ro said, a little awkwardly, a lot hopefully.
“So you’ll take us to see Regent Virgil then?” Logan asked.
“Logan, honey, I wish I could. And I’m sure he’d love to see you again. But… well, there’s been so many false calls. Virgil’s started to fear the worst, he refuses to see any more Romans.” Patton explained.
“Oh.” Ro mumbled, a little awkwardly, a lot heartbrokenly. “That, um, that makes sense.”
“There has to be some way.” Dante tried. “We’ve come all this way.”
“Well…” Patton thought for a moment. “I’ve got it!”
--
“Regent Virgil.” Dante greeted, bowed before the acting king. “I’m-” He started, only to be cut off.
“I know who you are.” Virgil huffed. “You were the one hosting auditions for the part of my nephew.”
“Ah, that um…” Dante mumbled, trying to come up with a proper explanation. “It was an… additional test, to see there really was any stock to their claim. But-”
“Don’t lie to me.” Virgil spat. “I have had enough of two-faced liars. Leave, and take whatever actor you brought alone with you.”
“Sire, please.” Dante tried again, reaching out for the regent. “He’s not an actor, he really is Roman. If you just look at him, you’d know.”
“Don’t touch me.” Virgil growled, pulling his hand away. “I will tell you again, leave. Before I have you arrested.”
Standing just outside the room, Ro pressed the palm of his hand to his mouth to keep from sobbing. It had been a con? All of it?
--
“Ro!” Dante called as the man speed towards their rooms.
“Don’t talk to me.” Ro snapped. “I don’t, I don’t want to be some pawn in your game anymore. Just leave me alone!”
“Ro it wasn’t like that.” He claimed.
“Wasn’t it?!” Ro huffed, turning and stopping to glare at a man he thought… a man he thought loved him. “Because it sounds to me like all you wanted was the money, and you found the perfect gullible, idiot to help you get it.”
“No, that’s not… I mean, it was. At first. But you really do look like him and-”
“What does it matter if I look like him? What does any of it matter? Whether I’m Roman or not, Regent Virgil will never want to talk to me, because of you! I thought… I thought I had a real shot at a family here Dante. With them but, but with you and Logan too. And it turns out you were lying to me the whole time?”
“It wasn’t the whole time.” Dante argued. “Not since we danced.”
“Don’t.” Ro said, trying for stern and only managing a sniffle. “Just, leave me a lot Dante.”
--
Ro sat in the inn room, trying very hard not to cry and failing miserably. In his hands he clutched his amulet, the only thing he’d ever had to remind him of his past. It was a simple thing, until you looked into the center. A storm raged in there, clouds and lightning and rain.
Since this whole Roman idea started, Ro had looked into the royal family quite a bit. Not always because Logan told him too.
It was a little known fact that Regent Virgil was a mage, if one who had set his magic aside to rule the kingdom. He was known to specialize in storm magic.
Ro had thought that meant something. Had hoped maybe that was a sign his amulet had been a gift from his uncle, a mage of storm and brother to the King.
How foolish of him.
A knock rang out through the room and Ro tried to wipe his face.
“Come in.” He said. His eyes widened and he immediately scrambled to stand and bow when he saw who it was. “Regent Virgil. I-I’m so sorry, I had no idea about the auditions or-” Roman stopped when the regent rose a hand.
“I know.” He said. “Logan told me as much. He also seems rather convinced you are my nephew.”
“I don’t know about that.” Roman sighed. “All I know about my past is that I had a locket. Not much to prove I’m a prince, really.” So why had he believed Dante? Stupid of him.
“A locket?” The regent asked. “Can I see it?” Hesitantly, Roman handed it over. He couldn’t help the confusion when Virgil’s breath caught.
“A locket with a storm spell trapped inside.” Virgil said. “I think that’s rather good proof you are a prince.”
“What?” Roman frowned, confused and too scared to grow hopeful once more. Virgil moved to sit on the bed, still clutching the amulet. He gestured for Roman to sit with him.
“You used to hate when I’d leave.” Virgil said. “Said you always had nightmares about how I wouldn’t come back. So I made you this locket, and I told you-”
“That if it ever stopped storming, you were gone.” Ro whispered, eyes widening as he recalled the conversation. “I was so mad at you that day.” Ro, Roman, remembered. “Because you’d been avoiding me.”
“You always made it so hard to keep a secret.” Virgil grinned.
“It’s the eyes.” Roman said. “All Sanders have eyes that stare into your soul.” That’s what his dad used to say, anyway.
“I guess that's why you were always so bad at lying.” Virgil laughed.
“Not as bad as Remus!” Roman argued.
“Well that's not much of an achievement.” Virgil teased. He stood back up. “Would you like to go see him?”
“Yes,” Roman had never meant something more in his life. “Please.” Virgil offered him a hand and when Roman took it, he pulled the taller boy into a tight hug.
“I missed you so much Roman.” He breathed.
“I missed you too Uncle Virgil, even when I didn’t know it was you I was missing.”
--
Roman and Remus were attached at the hip the next day as they caught up, but Virgil has kingly, regently duties to attend and so begrudgingly leaves them alone. His first appointment of the day, however, was not begrudging.
“Sire.” Dante greeted, bowing. “You called for me?” Despite his even tone, he looked as wrecked as Roman had the night before.
“It seems you were correct.” Virgil said. “You did indeed find and bring my nephew home.”
“I’m just glad he’s home safe.” Dante said.
“Yes, I’m sure. You seem very noble.” Virgil replied, rolling his eyes. Dante looked away, frowning slightly. “I’ll have your reward delivered to your hotel room.”
“No, thank you.” Dante refused. “I don’t want it.”
“Oh?” Virgil prompted, raising an eyebrow at the man. Sighing, Dante resisted the urge to the rub the back of his neck.
“It doesn’t feel right. Ro, uh Prince Roman, isn’t an object to exchange money over.” He admitted.
“You didn’t seem to worry about such things when you hosted those auditions.” Virgil pointed out. This time Dante didn’t suppress the wince, or try to lie his way out of the accustion.
“It was a lot of money, and from so far away it didn’t feel… real.” He said. “Even if Ro hadn’t been Prince Roman, I don’t think I’d have gone through with it. I don’t think Logan would have agreed to the plan if he didn’t know that too. I suppose he’s always been more honest about me than even myself.”
“He said about the same.” Virgil confirmed after a moment of tense silence. “I will at least send you some supplies, to make your trip home easier. I’ll send for you when they’re ready.”
“Thank you Sire.” Dante said, taking his leave with a bow.
“Perhaps I was a bit too hasty to judge him.” Virgil admitted, if only to himself. From what Logan had said, and from what he’d just seen, Dante didn’t seem so horrible a man.
Perhaps he should help Roman remember that.
--
“How are you settling in?” Virgil asked later that night, smiling as Roman looked up. He could still hardly believe it. His cousin, finally home and safe.
“Oh, it’s wonderful.” Roman smiled. “Everything I could have hoped for in finding my family.”
“I’m glad.” Virgil said.
“Is it all settled then?” Roman asked. “I’m really, officially Prince Roman?”
“There’ll still need to be a coronation, but that can wait.” Virgil assured. “Everything else is indeed settled.”
“So Dante got his money then?” Roman mumbled.
“He could have, we spoke this morning.” Virgil said, hating the way Roman seemed to deflate at the thought. “But he didn’t take it.”
“What?” Roman frowned, looking up in confusion.
“He didn’t take the money Roman.” Virgil assured. “Gave a speech about how it didn’t feel right. Really, I think he just didn’t want you to hate him.”
“I don’t-” Roman flushed as his loud reaction, looking away and collecting himself. Next time he spoke, it was calmer. “I don’t hate him.”
“Perhaps you should go tell him that.” Virgil suggested. “He’s still in his hotel room.”
“Really? But… but he’s, and I’m a prince now. Doesn’t that matter?” Roman asked, clearly not wanting to get his hopes up. Virgil’s smile turned softer.
“Roman, the only thing I care about is that you’re home, and you’re happy.” Roman’s face lit up, hugging him tight around the waist, and Virgil smiled into his shoulder. “Just warn him not to break your heart. I’m still acting king for a few more years, I can behead him.” He joked. Mostly.
--
“Ro?” Dante frowned, confused to find the man at his door. Then he faltered, bowing. “Prince Roman.” He corrected.
“Don’t do that.” Roman said. “You look so weird bowing sincerely.”
“Why are you here?” Dante asked.
“You didn’t take the money.” Roman answered.
“Not so you’d come see me.” Dante claimed. Even so, he tried to explain. This might be his one chance. “I just… it felt wrong. I swear I thought you were the prince. Maybe not at first, but pretty quickly. I wasn’t trying to fool you, or use you. Hell, I forgot about the auditions.” Throughout it all, Roman smiled.
“I know.” He assured.
“You mean a lot to me, I wouldn’t want to hurt you like that. There were so many times I almost came clean, but I was so sure you were the prince by then and-” Roman cut Dante off by resting a hand on his shoulder.
“Dante.” He said. “I know.”
#tsshipmonth2020#thomas sanders#sanders sides#sandersides#roceit#logicality#romandeceit#loganpatton#roman sanders#roman#writing#deceit#deceit sanders#creativity sanders#logan#logan sanders#patton#patton sanders#virgil#virgil sanders#anatasia au#royal au#royalty au
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