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missadangel · 18 days ago

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The Heart of Rome (Marcus Acacius x Ofc!Princess Reader)

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XII. The First Kill

Sic Semper Tyrannis

"Thus always to tyrants."

Brutus.

"You never forget your first kill," Marcus once said. One evening, you were sitting together in that meadow just after finished your knife training. "I've had to kill many, dozens, thousands. Some I felt no remorse for, some I thought they deserved it, some I felt pity for, but their faces are blurred in my memory in time. However, I could never forget the face of the first one. Although I was young, I remember it clearly, even now. For some time the silhouette of his face continued to torment me, even preventing me from using my sword properly.”

He took a deep breath as his fingers ran through your golden hair. “It's a peculiar thing, hard to overcome, right then and there, when you take his life, everything changes; the ground you walk on, the air you breathe, all of it becomes your enemy.”

As you looked at your own hands which were stained with blood and trembling, his words reverberated in your mind. You glanced at the man you had just killed, lying still on the ground. He was right. Everything has changed, and it will never be the same again.

Two days ago…

The atmosphere on Palatine Hill was one of palpable tension as the city awaited for the new dawn. You were trying to figure out the best way to extricate yourself from this troubling situation when you were involuntarily brought here by the guards, at the behest of your Emperor half-brother. Walking from the great courtyard into the great hall, accompanied by Flavius and two guards, you noticed that several soldiers were being forced to their knees by the guards. It appeared as though they were awaiting something or someone. They were attired in black cloaks over their armour, and you were uncertain as to why they were regarding you with concern. Might they be Marcus's men? Could this be the reason why he did not return home? Could he have been here too? As these questions continued to arise in your mind, you headed for the large door and entered as the guards opened it for you.

Once you had entered the great hall, the man called Flavius took his leave, accompanied by a few of his men, for some reason. You were not particularly curious about where he went, because the moment you saw Caracalla's face, your tension level spiked. You never thought that one day you would be judged by him in this hall. Caracalla stood in the centre, in his usual place, with Macrinus right next to him. What a surprise! You could imagine the strings he had woven around your brother, effectively turning him into a puppet. Geta and his mother Julia were on the left side of the hall. On the floor was the body of a slave, lifeless and bleeding, felt a chill run through you. You averted your gaze. As soon as he saw you, Geta uttered a silent curse and looked at his brother with a look of anger. “Really, brother? I told you, Aurelia has nothing to do with this!”

Caracalla stared at you, ignoring his brother. You swallowed when you realised he was holding the vial you had sent for Geta. He held it up as if he wanted you to see it. His face showed signs of fatigue and redness, which you knew could cause this kind of effect.

You were trying to stay calm. But your eyes kept drifting to the body of the poor slave on the floor. Caracalla noticed. “Oh, forgive us for starting without you.” He laughed like a madman.

“I have to tell you that you are making a mistake, brother,” you said calmly. You were hoping he hadn't noticed the quaver in your voice. “The things you accuse me of. None of that is true.” You turned your head to Julia, who was looking at you as she always did, defiant and angry.

“Lady Domna asked me to poison you, as she well knows. And I refused."

“Or are you going to tell me our brother Geta's lies too?” Caracalla snapped.

"Not lies, you fool, I'm telling the truth!" Geta shouted. He then inhaled. "Our mother is responsible for this. I can assure you that neither I nor Aurelia attempted to poison you."

Julia looked at her son, her eyes wide in surprise.

"What about this then?" Caracalla indicated the vial in his hand. "Last week, I had this dream that you were trying to kill me, and you were all involved." He pointed his index finger at each of you in turn. Macrinus stood silently beside him, weighing up the situation.

"As I said, my mother found a poison that will kill you slowly, which is why you killed this slave just now!"

Caracalla looked down at the dead slave on the floor. "That's right," he muttered. "I did." Then he grinned.

He looked like he was really lost, which made you almost feel pity for him. Geta approached him, seemingly used to this situation. "I asked Aurelia for help, for you, brother."

"Hah! So you admit that you plotted together to kill me!”

Geta sighed. “No you silly! You know that Aurelia is a medicus, so she found out what poisoned you and made a concoction that will cure you.”

“Lies, lies, lies! You're always lying to me!” He shouted at him, then pursed his lips. Geta rolled his eyes.

That's when you heard some muttering coming from outside. You figured it must be the soldiers. Before you had a chance to react, someone called out 'General', the great door opened, and Marcus walked in. You weren't sure which was more shocking. Seeing Marcus there like that, Flavius gripping his arm like he was a criminal, the bruises and blood on his face, or the fact that he was only in his burgundy tunic? Your chest tightened and your breath caught in your throat. It was as if someone was squeezing it.

“Marcus!” you cried out. Your ringing voice filled every space in the great hall.

Without a second thought, you strode towards him. You grasped his face in your hands and gazed at his bruises with concern.

"Aurelia, tell me you're alright." He said, also concerned.

"I am. But you? What happened to your face?" You touched the edge of his eyebrow where the blood oozing from. You couldn't hold back the tears.

"There's no need to be concerned, my lady."

"General!" Caracalla said loudly. "Or should I just call you Marcus now? After all, you don't deserve the title."

"How do you mean?" you asked him, taking Marcus’ hand in yours.

"You are mad indeed, brother." Geta muttered. “General has nothing to do with this.”

“Shut the hell up! Enough with your lies!” Caracalla wagged a finger at him. Then he turned to you and Marcus.

"A husband and wife have decided to commit a crime together. That's quite romantic.” He gave a little sarcastic clap.

“What are you accusing him of?” you asked, a little sharply. “He's a general who's loyal to you. The person you should be accusing is right there with you!” You said, pointing at Macrinus.

“Aurelia,” Marcus warned, squeezing your hand.

Macrinus smirked smugly. "May I enquire as to the evidence on which you have based your conclusion, my lady?"

Caracalla butted in. "You're not in a position to accuse anyone." I'm the one who decides everyone's fate here.’ He turned to his mother. "I will commence with Lady Domna. Or should I say ‘Mother'?" he said, raising his eyebrows suggestively. Then he went to the slave lying lifeless on the floor, bent down and examined him as if he was seeing him for the first time. "You disobeyed me. As if that wasn't enough, you tried to poison me using this rat." He stood up and asked the guard next to him for his sword. Once he had it in his hand, he looked at its shiny surface as if he were talking to it. Julia tensed up. "I can't send you back there without knowing what you'll do. I'm sure you'll be back though. So you'll be charged under the Roman law.”

“Brother!” Geta protested.

"I must protest! I'm the Empress, I can't be judged! I am your mother!" Julia yelled.

"That's why you are still breathing!" Caracalla barked. "You committed treason! I could kill you right now, but I won't! So, try to be greatful and don't speak another word!"

"It's a fair judgement, Your Majesty," Macrinus stated, pleased. You were certain that it was his opinion. After all, he had the majority of the Senate.

"Take Lady Domna to her room and keep her there until the trial," he ordered the guards.

The guards forcibly took her by the arm and led her out, despite her protests and shouting.

"As for you," he said, pointing at you and Geta.

"It would be best to simply let Aurelia go. I'm the one who asked her for help," he said, stepping between you and Caracalla.

Caracalla laughed. "How touching! What have you done to my brother, Aurelia?" His eyes shifted to you. Marcus clenched his jaw. The atmosphere in the hall was getting tense. "Well, here's the thing; she's the one who made this concoction, after all."

"It's not poison, on the contrary, it's a herbal remedy that will heal you." You explained.

Caracalla approached you and handed you the vial, pointing the sword he held in his other hand at you. "Prove it, then. Drink."

Marcus became visibly tense. Geta turned his head towards you. You swallowed hard. There was no harm in drinking the concoction you had made, you wouldn't have been afraid to drink it, only if you hadn't been carrying a child. "I can not," you suddenly said, closing your eyes and bowing your head.

Caracalla laughed hysterically. You exchanged a look with Marcus, you knew he understood why.

Geta turned to you, leaned in, “Aurelia, what are you-“

"I can't because I'm with child." You said. "The mixture could harm the child."

Everyone looked at you, and there was a brief period of silence. "How can I be sure you're not lying to me?" Caracalla asked.

Geta shifted his gaze to your belly, then turned to Caracalla and snatched the vial from his hand. "Give me the damn thing," he said and uncorked the bottle and drank the whole thing without thinking.

Everyone was looking at him in surprise. He threw the vial on the floor and looked Caracalla in the eye, who stared back at him with his mouth open. Geta licked his lips, spread his arms wide. "Look at me, brother! I am still alive, aren't I?" He smirked.

Caracalla looked at him, then at you, narrowing his eyes. This time he pointed his sword at Geta. "You two, you must be playing tricks on me."

"That's nonsense!" Geta yelled. Caracalla shook his head as if he had heard something. "No, a lie is always a lie. I refuse to believe it." The sword slipped and fell to the floor as he covered his ears with his hands. He stepped back. Macrinus approached him and whispered something in his ear.

"I think that's all we need for now. As you can see, Aurelia is completely innocent." Geta said.

"No way!" Caracalla spoke up. "She'll be staying here until this is resolved." He and Macrinus exchanged glances. He then looked at you. "I've decided that she needs to stay under home detention here at Domus Severiana."

"I must protest!" you said, loudly. Marcus gave you a little tap on the shoulder to calm you down.

“My decision is final!” He yelled at you then turned to Geta. “So, you, I'll have you tried for high treason, and I'll have you deposed from the title of emperor."

“You can't do that!” Geta interjected.

“Just watch me!” He gave him a stern look.

Geta clenched his fists.

"As for you, Acacius," Caracalla said, pointing his finger at Marcus this time. "There won't be a trial for you. I've got other plans. "In fact, I should have you beheaded or thrown off the Tarpeian rock.”

(Tarpeian rock: A steep cliff on the south side of the Capitoline Hill that was used in Ancient Rome as a site of execution. Murderers, traitors, perjurors, and larcenous slaves, if convicted by the quaestores parricidii, were flung from the cliff to their deaths.)

"For what offence?" Your body was shaking.

"Treason of course!" He shouted.

Macrinus intervened. "Your Majesty, your people respect or General Acacius and they have made great hero out of him. It would be unwise to have him executed. You might draw the public's ire to yourself. Angering them will only work against you."

"How do you mean? Should I let him walk free, Macrinus?" Caracalla shouted at him angrily.

Macrinus looked at Marcus. "No, of course not. I just want to say that there are other ways that the public will be satisfied with. And you of course, Your Majesty."

"And what are those ways, I wonder?”

You were getting nervous as he spoke, what was he planning?

“Games,” he said. “We could set up some fighting games, and Acacius could fight in the Colosseum to win his freedom.”

“No way!” You let out a cry of protest.

"Why do you object, or you do not trust your husband's fighting strength?" Caracalla enquired with a hint of irony. "It is a good decision, Macrinus I liked it."

You looked at Marcus. But he was staring at Caracalla. "What about my men? I demand their release, Your Majesty. They have nothing to do with my treachery." Marcus said the word treachery through clenched teeth.

"I deny it, Acacius! They are as guilty as you are, and they will take their share of your punishment and fight along with you in the Colosseum!"

"Your Majesty, I suggest that you reconsider this!" Marcus said loudly.

"Shut up!" Caracalla approached him. "That dusty ground of the Colosseum will become your grave, you will lose your reputation, your name will be forgotten! I will burn your villa to the ground with your slaves inside! And your wife Aurelia..." He eyed you up and down. "She will be confined for the rest of her life! Do you hear me?"

He gestured to Flavius, who grabbed you by the arm and pulled you away from Marcus.

"Don't you dare to touch her!" Marcus lunged towards him but the guards grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back hard.

"Marcus!" You reached for him, but Flavius was holding your arm tightly.

"Take your hands off the Princess now!" Geta shouted too, but Flavius ignored him.

“My name may be forgotten, but your name will be remembered with hatred for generations to come!” Marcus roared. “You will face the hatred of your people! Your reign will come to an end!”

“Get him out of my sight!” Caracalla shouted. “Throw him in one of the pits in the Colosseum with all his men!”

"No, please! Brother please!" You begged. Tears welled up in your eyes.

He didn't care.

“MARCUS!” You screamed at the top of your lungs as the guards dragged him out. Flavius then released you, but couldn't feel your legs and collapsed. Geta crouched, put his arm around your shoulder, you rested your head on his chest, sobbing, crying.

“Lock them in their rooms, I want two men at every door!” You weren't looking at Caracalla, but you knew he was talking about you and Geta.

First day of the games.

The Colosseum was host to a game that was somewhat unique today. The announcement of the accusation and sentence of General Marcus Acacius had been made public, and many people had gathered here in the early hours. It would be fair to say that the vast majority viewed this man as a hero. The loud shouts of the crowd mingled with the sound of drums and trumpets. For the first time, Marcus was not pleased to hear his name shouted by the crowd, despite being aware of their admiration. The reason was straightforward: his wife Aurelia was absent from the Imperial stand. They had taken her away from him. Caracalla and Geta were seated in their customary positions. It appeared that Caracalla wished to keep his brother, who had committed treason, close by.

However, Geta, like Marcus, was even less enthusiastic about being there for the first time. As Marcus and his soldiers saluted them before the fight commenced, Geta and he locked eyes. If only I could hear him at this distance, he thought. I wish he would tell me something about Aurelia. Then Geta nodded at him as if he could read something his mind. ‘She's alright,’ he mimicked with his lips. And that was it! That was enough for Marcus to feel strong and defeat everyone and everything in the arena. On top of that, he had his most trusted men with him this time, his soldiers. They'd fought side by side on the battlefield, and they were ready to do the same here.

"Octavius!" Marcus called out. He gave him a heads-up about the barbarian warrior coming up behind him. Octavius dodged the attack and, led by Marcus, they all took up an attacking position, targeting one barbarian warrior and quickly overcoming them. There were just two barbarians left. Marcus signaled to his soldiers to stay back and calmly took a step forward, challenging the remaining barbarians with his outstretched arm. They both charged towards him with their swords but missed. Marcus expertly dodged their attacks and cut them with his sharp sword. The crowd went wild. Geta laughed and applauded. For the first time, Caracalla responded to his laughter by cursing angrily. Marcus, with his sword bathed in a crimson red, made his way towards the barbarian, who was lying on the ground, apparently nearing the end of his life. He then looked at Caracalla.

Caracalla turned his thumb down. Marcus killed the barbarian with a swift move. As the crowd chanted Marcus' name, Caracalla sulked and sank into his seat. "Ugh! Too fast and too boring! Well, fortunately, this is a three-day game and we're only on day one."

"How exciting!" Geta teased.

Caracalla frowned and turned his head towards Macrinus who was already approaching. "Have your new gladiators arrived, Macrinus?"

"Yes, Your Majesty. They are preparing for tomorrow's game." He said, smiling at him.

"That's good. I hope tomorrow will bring the defeat of Acacius and his men." He looked at them with a hint of displeasure. Then he stood up. "Come, brother. It's time to leave."

Marcus was keeping an eye on them from a distance, his gaze shifting to Flavius, who was following behind them. He clenched his fists as he watched them until they were out of sight. He made a vow to himself. He was going to win these games, no matter what. He had to win the Emperor's approval to be free. Then he could leave here and get you to safety. After that, he could take care of Flavius and Macrinus. Even if he never became a general again, that would not matter to him. He did not believe that Caracalla would reinstate him, anyway. That night, staying in the same pit with the gladiators but in separate cells, he was thinking about all this and you.

You spent the entire day in a state of mental and emotional distress, seeking solace through prayer. You were rather concerned about Marcus, eager to receive any news from him. However, the guards at the door of your room would never let you out. You hated this room. Never expected to feel this way about it, nor to return here in this way. While you watched the birds singing cheerfully outside the window, you felt a longing to be free like them. You were also concerned about those in the villa and you prayed for them too. However, Marcus was on your mind constantly. Nothing made sense without him. You were feeling lost, incomplete. In the evening there was a knock at the door. Geta's slave had brought dinner. The girl noticed that the food on the morning tray had not been touched. She looked at you with a concerned and sad expression.

"My lady, please try to eat a little."

"I do not feel hungry," you murmured.

She glanced at the guards and then looked back at you. "If you could do it for your child." The girl was a little too insistent in her tone. You turned to her. She gave you a nod with her head. She indicated the plate on the tray with a gesture. You noticed a piece of paper under the plate. Had someone wrote you a note? You looked at the guards. They were standing at the door and wouldn't let it close when the slave girl was inside. You had to come up with an excuse. "Alright then. I'll eat, but first you help me get dressed. I need to change my dress." you said loudly looking at the guards. "Close the door, I need to get dressed."

The guards nodded and obeyed. You immediately took the paper from the tray.

"Emperor Geta wrote to you," she said quietly.

"Or perhaps it is about Marcus?" you asked, opening the little paper.

"I am not quite sure, my lady. He's in a similar situation to you, confined in a way. I couldn't even speak to him properly." You could sense the sadness in her voice, you touched her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Do not you worry. I'm sure everything will be alright and we'll be released soon." You felt like you also convincing yourself desperately.

The girl replied with a smile.

You turned your gaze to the paper to read what Geta had written.

"My dear sister. I hope you're doing well. I'm really concerned about you, so it would be great if you send me a response. What do you think of this solution huh? You must think I'm pretty smart, you do not? Come now, be honest." -Even so, he still managed to make you smile- "Anyway, Acacius and his men fought well today. You should have seen Caracalla's face when they won the game. It looked like a little monkey's butt. Whatever. Acacius, he's fine, don't you worry about him. If he wins the next two games, he'll be free. And I'm quite sure he will. Oh, and you never told me you were carrying a child, which I'm still upset about. Well, take care of yourself and the child, and eat your food. I'm waiting for your secret response letter. We'll be free soon, I promise. Kisses.”

Sighing, you crumpled up the paper and put it in the wooden box, closing it up. Fortunately, he had some good news. You felt a little relieved. You then looked around your room for some paper and a pen. The girl whispered to you. "Here, my lady," she said, pulling out the ink, reed pen and paper she had tucked into her belt.

"You are really well prepared," you said, smiling at her. She giggled. You sat down and the girl helped you to write a reply for Geta.

"Brother, I'm alright, please don't worry. I must say, this solution is really clever and I am very grateful for it. Many thanks for the good news about him. I hope we'll all be free soon. I know you won't get anywhere near Marcus, but if you get a chance, I'd appreciate it if you'd tell him I love him. Please look after yourself around Caracalla. I await your letter about tomorrow."

You handed the paper to the girl. She tucked it into her belt to deliver it to Geta.

Day two of the Games.

The atmosphere in the Colosseum today was somewhat different from that of yesterday. It seemed that the crowd flocking to this giant structure was more enthusiastic today.

Marcus and his soldiers were going over their plan of fight while sharpening their swords. A tougher fight awaited them today. The gladiators were well trained, but unlike them, this was their first time in the Colosseum. Before long, the drums started beating and they were announced.

“Honos et Virtus! (Honor and virtue!) For freedom!” They shouted together, tapping each other on the shoulder. With swords drawn, they made their way to the arena, accompanied by the sound of drums and the enthusiastic cheering of the crowd. It was pretty unlikely that they could pull off a fight like this on such short notice. But since Caracalla had declared them criminals, he'd ordered that there should be no interruption, one day after another. No matter how strong or experienced they were, it wasn't something an ordinary soldier could take easily. However, losing wasn't an option for Marcus. He encouraged them accordingly and spurred them on. Before start, and saluting emperor, Geta and Marcus shared a look that was just like yesterday. Marcus smiled in response to Geta's positive gestures.

“Oh, this is so ridiculous,” Geta muttered. “I feel like I'm flirting with a girl.”

“What was that? What did you say?” Caracalla leaned in towards him.

“Nothing, just thinking out loud.”

“And you call me mad.”

“But you are,” Geta said. “You're treating me like a caged animal. Locking me when I've done nothing wrong.”

"Be glad I didn't kill you," said Caracalla arrogantly. "Since I've tried it before and I can do it again."

"What did you say?" Geta looked at him with wide eyes.

Caracalla laughed. "If Aurelia hadn't saved you that night, you'd be with the Gods now. You would be dead."

Geta preferred to look at him in astonishment rather than watch the game. Of course, he had thought about it, but he could not digest his cold-blooded confession. At that moment he realised that everything was in vain. That he still saw him as his brother, that he respected him a little. To go to Aurelia for him. Suddenly he found himself feeling guilty. Tasting these new feelings, he set himself a goal: to kill him. No matter what, today or tomorrow. He had to die.

While Geta was planning to kill Caracalla somehow, Marcus and his soldiers kept up the fight against the gladiators. Despite the gladiators outnumbering them, they were able to prevail over them by watching each other's backs and acting in a spirit of brotherhood. Caracalla gave a thumbs up, decided that the remaining gladiators be to live. That came as a surprise to everyone. Macrinus seemed really pleased, and Geta noticed. They all had some injuries, including Marcus himself, but they weren't too severe. Marcus had a small scratch on his cheek. Octavius had a cut on his calf, and the others had cuts on their arms and legs. They were also pretty tired. They were in need of a rest, but they knew that Emperor Caracalla wouldn't let them. That night, as Marcus examined his brothers' wounds, he was filled with concern for the following day. It was possible that Caracalla and Macrinus had something big in store for the final day.

It was just after midnight when the sound of the iron gates opening was carried away on the breeze that had picked up the dust from the stone walls. Marcus and the others were soon aware that Cato and a soldier were approaching, and they rose to their feet immediately.

"Cato! It's Cato, sir!" Octavius said in a cheerful manner.

Marcus grasped the iron bars. "Cato? What are you doing here?"

Cato looked sad. "Sir, I am very truly saddened by all this."

"Cease weeping now, Cato," Octavius chastised him.

"Have you heard anything from the villa?"

Cato shook his head slowly. Octavius was growing impatient and reached his arm through the iron bars and grabbed his collar. “Speak!"

Marcus touched his shoulder as a warning. Cato took a deep breath. "Sir, when I went to the villa, I found that it had unfortunately been plundered, the soldiers you had positioned there had been murdered.”

Marcus slammed his palm against the iron bars in frustration.

“What about the others? The slaves?” Octavius asked.

"I'm not sure, but none of them were there."

"They must have been detained." Marcus hissed. "Along with all my property, everything I have."

Octavius kicked the bars angrily.

“I was watching Palatine Hill, the Domus Severiana,” Cato said. Marcus looked at him. Cato continued. “Lady Aurelia, I couldn't see her, but I'm certain that she's there.”

"She's under home detention," Marcus said his voice cracked. "Keep watching there. I need to find out how often Flavius and his guards go there and what they do. I need you to keep an eye on things for me until I get out of here. Can you do that?"

He nodded. "Yes, sir!"

The soldier who'd been keeping an eye on the corridor during the conversation came over to them. "Sir, General, I need to get Cato out of here before the guards at the gate realise."

Marcus nodded. "I am indebted to you." He said, and the soldier nodded in respect. Then he turned to Cato. "Cato, be cautious. Whatever you do, don't let Flavius notice you.”

"Yes, sir. I'll pray for you to win tomorrow," he said, looking at each of them. He threw his arms up. "Hodie Ruditapes Leo!' (Today the lion roars!)"

"Hodie Ruditapes Leo!' (Today the lion roars!)" They all repeated, their smiles confident and assured.

As you read Geta's note that evening, you noticed a difference in his writing style compared to the previous day. It seemed more serious. You were curious as to why and felt a little frustrated that you were not allowed to talk to him freely. Yet, you were really grateful to him for coming up with this solution. It was like he'd given you a breath of air when you felt like you were stuck in this room. Fortunately, there was more good news. Marcus and his soldiers had won. The only thing left to do was get through tomorrow. If Marcus were to emerge victorious from the games tomorrow, it would mean that Caracalla would no longer have the authority to detain him. So maybe you could be freed and return to the villa together before the trial. You had to find out what happened there and see if everyone was well. In accordance with the law, everything you have to be confiscated, including your slaves. It might even be the case that they could have been sold to other people. The mere thought of that made your chest hurt. However, this is not a possibility at such short notice, and certainly not before a decision has been made by the court.

Sitting on the large bed, illuminated by the moonlight that filtered through the long window, you read the short note that Geta had sent you, thinking of him as you traced your thumb over the word 'Marcus'.

You sensed that he was thinking of you too. Actually you were certain. You implored Jupiter, as you rubbed your belly with a hand over it. "Please, my lord. I beseech you. I pray that you spare him to me, to our child. Be his constant companion and his strength in fight, refuge in every adversity. Guide him, my lord, that he may return to me safely."

Day three of the Games.

Present day.

"Remember, we have to win no matter what. If we lose, we will not only lose our lives, but our families, their future and reputation."

They nodded, but their eyes betrayed their doubts. Some of them were exhausted and deeply wounded. Marcus knew that if one lost, they all would. He had to give them what they needed: strength and courage.

“Brothers, do you remember those words I spoke to you two years ago on the Libyan front?”

They looked at each other and nodded in aggrement. He went over to the soldier who was struggling the most and put a hand on his shoulder.

"I mentioned a dark place inside us, a place that can give you strength even when you feel you have none left. You're injured and you're feeling drained. It was just like that day. We were outnumbered that day and it looked like we were going to lose. I don't think any other army would have been able to win with such a small number of people. But we managed to beat the odds and find a way to win. We'll do the same today." He went over to another soldier and looked at him. He had a wound on his arm. "Now I want you to discover that dark place inside you. He turned to another soldier. "Felix. I see you're badly wounded in the leg. Does it hurt?"

The soldier looked at his leg. "Yes, sir."

"Do you feel that place? Do you hear that voice screaming at you that you're going to lose?"

He lowered his head. "Yes, sir.”

"Do you think you can run from here to the gate? Or will it make the wound in your leg worse?"

He looked at him uncertainly. "It could be a lot worse, sir."

"That's not the answer I'm seeking, Felix!" he shouted at him. “When you get to the arena, you'll need to run and be quick. The warriors trying to kill you there will jump on you to finish you off as soon as they realise that you're scared.” He gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Our mind rules our body and it rules this dark place! It cannot direct the body of one who is afraid! Because he is doomed to lose. When you die over there, you will only lose your life. Your family however, will lose their citizenship and be known as the family of a traitor. Your friends will lose a brother. I will lose a good soldier! Now, tell me, will you confront that dark place, face your fears, fight along with us to win?" Marcus looked into his eyes. Felix inhaled and nodded firmly. “I will, sir!”

Marcus smiled. "Good. I trust that you will. From now on, it doesn't matter what you like or don't like, what you're upset about, what you think you've been wronged, your fears, your anxieties, nothing matters." Marcus raised his index finger. "Only one thing matters: Survival. Now tell me. Will you fight by my side and survive? Are you with me?"

The soldiers looked at each other and nodded, and then they all drew their swords and raised them.

"We're with you, sir!"

"Yes sir!"

They all shouted in unison with enthusiasm. Marcus raised his sword. “Vae Victis!”

The soldiers repeated it back to him. The sound of their voices echoed off the stone walls. A little later, the sound everyone was waiting for was heard! The iron gates opened with a loud noise as their names were announced. The sound of drums, pipes, the voices of the crowd, whistles and applause filled the air. Everyone was brimming with excitement as they sat in their seats at the Colosseum, eager for the final game day. Geta and Caracalla were sitting in their usual seats. Macrinus came up to emperor and whispered something in his ear. Geta tried to focus on what he was saying, but the noise made it difficult to hear.

"Today will be the end of Acacius." Caracalla said to Geta, in an excited tone.

"You speak too precisely, brother. They've only just begun!

“This is the end! There's no doubt about it." He snapped. "His end. He is going to die today.” His hands were shaking. Geta squinted at his hands then his face. “I will get rid of him no matter what.”

At that moment, Geta became aware that something was being planned. He was fairly certain that Macrinus and Flavius were involved. But what could it be? He considered the option of killing his brother at that moment. However, he was unable to give orders to the guards. He knew his own end was near. Just after Marcus. Maybe even yours. Caracalla was completely lost. He has to be the one to die today, but how? Geta thought.

Marcus and his men were in fine spirits as they engaged in combat with the gladiators who had previously fought and whose lives Caracalla had graciously spared. However, before long, two hatches opened on the ground of the arena, and a loud roar was heard as two tigers suddenly appeared. Caracalla was visibly amused and expressed his approval with a hearty laugh and a clap of his hands. The crowd expressed their delight with enthusiastic shouts.

“Where did these tigers come from?” Geta was rather puzzled.

"Didn't you like my surprise?'"

"I thought we'd run out of wild animals?" Geta grunted.

"And I thought we could make do with these until the rhino was brought in. They were only brought in last week. Macrinus went to great lengths to get them from Libya."

Geta squinted at him. "I am sure he did.”

Marcus got his men together and gave them a few strategies. After all, none of them had ever fought tigers, so they tried to stay calm. The gladiators had a similar plan of action. The two groups were ready to attack each other, using the tigers as a dangerous tool. The gladiators advanced towards them with shields and spears. Marcus and his soldiers numbered six. Gladiators were four. However, one of the gladiators was so enormous that he could easily be counted as two men. Marcus had given his men another tactic about him: attack his leg first, so they could finish him off as soon as he fell to the ground. That was it. A moment later, Octavius lunged at his leg with his sword. And managed to cut deeply. Before long, the other soldier did the same, and the big man collapsed on the ground. But not before he'd punched them in the stomach and face. During the attack, Marcus lost one soldier, leaving him with five remaining. The battle was so intense that it was difficult to catch your breath. Everyone was exhausted and trying to outwit the enemy while dodging the claws and teeth of the tigers, which was harder than ever. After one intense battle, Marcus and his soldiers were down to four. As he saw the exhaustion on their faces, Marcus felt the first stirrings of fear. But he persevered and fought on. He managed to cut down one of the gladiators and one of the tigers.

The crowd went wild with excitement. His success gave the remaining soldiers the encouragement they needed to keep fighting with everything they had. And soon the cries of victory were heard in the arena. The gladiators were all defeated by the glorious Roman soldiers and their General. The crowd cheered his name with delight. They gave each other a big hug and saluted the crowd.

And, It all happened so quickly.

"Now!" Caracalla shouted angrily. Geta turned his head towards Flavius, who raised his arm and looked at something, then lowered it as he gave an order to someone in the crowd. Out of the blue, Marcus was hit in the arm by a bolt from nowhere. If Octavius hadn't been a bit closer, it would probably have gone through his throat. Marcus let out a cry of pain. The crowd fell silent. Geta got to his feet. Caracalla looked at him, his hands clasped in delight. He laughed wildly. The soldiers called out to their general. Then they quickly looked in the direction of the bolt. It was someone planted in the audience. It was against the rules. It was completely unacceptable. Caracalla was determined to see Marcus dead, so he came up with this plan.

However, he was soon disappointed to see that Marcus had broken the bolt and pulled it out of his arm. He was seething with rage. The soldiers picked up shields from the ground and formed a protective circle around their general. The crowd caught the attacker with the crossbow and beat him up. Caracalla got really angry and swore as he saw his plan fail. Geta looked at him and laughed cruelly.

Caracalla looked at him angrily and stood up. The crowd was chanting Marcus's name.

“I think that’s enough. Now It's time to set him free, brother. He has well earned it.”

He was aware of it. He looked at Flavius and the other guards and, with some reluctance, gave the order to open the great iron gate. Octavius, who was holding Marcus's arm, looked at him with concern.

"Sir, it looks like you've got a bit of a rough injury."

"No need to worry about my wound, brother. We survived. We won! That's all that matters." He smiled.

The soldiers looked at him. 'We won, sir!' Marcus gave them a tap on the shoulder, one by one. "I'm proud of you all."

Before long, the iron gate opened and Caracalla entered the arena as his name was announced. Geta was right behind him. Marcus' smile faded. He considered grabbing the pugio from the ground, as this could be his only opportunity to kill him. However, if things did not go as planned, it could have unfortunate consequences. Besides, he had to think about his soldiers as well. At his command, they all dropped their swords and bowed their heads.

“Acacius, you really are a hard man to kill. You put me in a dilemma.”

He also noticed the pugio on the ground, covered in blood and dust. If he could get to it, he might be able to kill his brother right there and then. But he shouldn't let on. He glanced over at Marcus. He could see right through what he was up to. He looked at the guards, who numbered eight. Could he take them down? No, he'd have to be declared free first. He decided to wait.

Geta bent down and picked up the pugio.

“Would you like one of the tiger's teeth, brother?” he said, looking at Caracalla, trying hard to hide his intentions.

Caracalla gave a shrug and seemed confused. “Alright, but first I must announce the verdict the people are waiting for.”

Marcus and Geta exchanged glances. And the decision has been made.

Caracalla cleared his throat and announced his decision in a voice the crowd could hear. “Marcus Acacius! By the authority of Roman law, I declare you free!”

The crowd cheered and whistled. They began to chant Caracalla's name. Caracalla held up his hand and signalled for them to be silent.

"But you're not a Roman general anymore. You're not even serving in the military any longer. You'll be exiled. You'll lose all your authority and you'll have to live outside Rome for the rest of your life."

The crowd suddenly fell silent, and after a few murmurs, people started to protest.

“General! General! General! General! General! General!”

“Silence! You filthy rats! How dare you? I shall kill all of you!” Caracalla yelled at them.

It all happened so fast. Geta threw the pugio at Marcus while Caracalla looking at the crowd. He skilfully grasped the pugio and slashed Caracalla's throat with a move faster than the wind. Nobody even noticed for the first few minutes because it happened so fast. As soon as blood spurted from the cut on Caracalla's throat, he instinctively pressed his hands as if to make the wound stop bleeding.

His sapphire-coloured fancy toga, his golden necklace, all soaked with his own blood flowing between fingers through. He fell to the dusty ground as he collapsed lifelessly to his knees. His blood was leaking slowly, pooling around his lifeless body. Geta took the pugio from Marcus' hand and looked the guards in the eye, who had taken up their attacking positions.

"The tyrant emperor is dead! I am the only emperor! As a tyrant, his rules are null and void!"

This was indisputably the case. The rules of the emperor, who had been legally declared a tyrant with the approval of the Senate, were therefore legally invalid. Geta had planned well, and the people were happy about it. After all, they were now shouting his name. Even when the blood continued to flow from his brother's lifeless body. Now he has to convince the council next. Marcus and his soldiers bowed their heads to him. The guards too. Then Marcus's eyes shift to the imperial tribune, he tensed up when he couldn't see Flavius or Macrinus there.

"Your Majesty, I need to know if your sister, my wife Aurelia, is still at Palatine Hill."

“Yes,” Geta said, also looking at the tribune. He turned his head to Marcus, his eyes wide. “That cunt Macrinus and his filthy dog Flavius.” He hissed.

Marcus looked at his soldiers. “Octavius, you are with me. The others will remain with Emperor Geta to ensure his safety and protection."

Geta tapped Marcus on the shoulder. "Acacius, there is no need for concern about my safety now. Go and ensure my sister is safe."

Marcus nodded nervously. Quickly, he and Octavius made their way towards the iron gate to leave the Colosseum.

Macrinus strode purposefully down the steps of the Colosseum, determined to catch up with Flavius. He looked around and saw that people on the streets were talking about Caracalla's death with great enthusiasm.

“Sir Flavius! Where do you think you're going?” Macrinus shouted at him.

They were both furious. "Tell your men to move now! We need to act fast while he's still in there."

Flavius grabbed his horse's reins. "I don't care about Emperor Geta! You told me Acacius would die there today!"

“Your man couldn't shoot him, so that's not my fault! Now is the time to take down Geta as we planned. We must finish him before he is officially proclaimed. Then, when I ascend the throne, I will finish Acacius myself, just as I promised you.”

"Your perfect plan didn't do shit!" He barked.

"I made you Prateon Prefect! I gave you power!" Macrinus shouted.

Flavius shook his head. "I don't give a damn about your throne or the power you gave me! You promised you'd finish Acacius, but you couldn't. Our deal is off. "I'll finish him myself!" He leapt onto his horse. Macrinus was enraged.

"What the hell are you talking about? Where are you going?”

"I was wrong to go along with your stupid plan. I am going to do what I should have done all along. I'll take away what's most precious to him. Then he'll learn what loss means."

Macrinus was taken aback when he realised what he was talking about. 'No! You cannot!' "I need Princess Aurelia. Don't you dare touch her!"

"I will have my revenge with or without you!" He yelled, kicked his horse forward.

Macrinus called a few of the guards to his side and ordered them to follow him.

It was the afternoon, you were resting in bed, nervously awaiting, hoping for good news. Then there was a noise, a clinking of swords, and you heard the guards at the door hurrying away. The sound of their metal armour echoed with every footstep. You approached the door to see what was happening. As soon as you opened the door, you saw Geta's slave rushing to your side.

"My lady. You must leave immediately. Come with me." She grasped your hand and pulled you with her.

"What's going on?"

She put her finger to her lips. "We have to be quiet. I'll tell you."

As soon as you stepped into the courtyard, she pulled you towards the corner and guided you to hide behind the wall. You peeked out and noticed Flavius.

“They're looking for you.” She whispered.

Before you could ask anything the girl tugged you by the hand again. The other slaves noticed, rushing towards you.

"This way, my lady."

"Why are they looking for me? Or has something happened to Marcus?”

"I am not sure, my lady. The Commander of the Guard has just killed three of his men. They attempted to prevent him from entering. I heard them talking about you. You must leave before he notices you."

Your heart was beating fast. Your throat felt dry. As you approached the entrance door, you saw three of the guards were lying on the floor covered in blood.

"My Lady!” A familiar voice called out to you.

You looked in that direction and saw Cato, who was waiting for you outside the entrance door, holding the reins of a horse. You looked around for Marcus, but he was not there.

“Stop right there!”

You gasped when you heard Flavius's loud voice.

"My Lady, get on the horse now!" Cato drew his sword, staring at Flavius as he ran towards you.

"Cato, I-" Your voice cracked.

"You are the one he wants! Just go!"

You nodded, tears in your eyes, and quickly climbed onto the horse, kicking it forward.

When you looked back, you saw Cato taking up a defensive position, you turned your head. You tried to hold back your tears and gripped the horse's reins tighter. You had no idea where you were supposed to go. But it seemed a bad idea to head into the city and the streets, after all he was the commander of the guards and they were everywhere. So you rode on a road that led straight out of city center. You turned your head and looked back again. It didn't look like anyone was coming after you, but you had to be sure. After a while you heard drums and an announcement: “Be aware! Emperor Caracalla is dead! He is dead! He is dead!” You slowed your horse down.

How? When? You asked yourself in shock. And what about Marcus? Why isn't anyone talking about him?

People were looking at you with curiosity as you were a little bewildered and trying to figure out what to do. Before you knew it, you heard the sound of a horse's neigh coming behind you and people screamed. You looked back and saw Flavius on his horse, your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest. As you pulled the reins in a hurry, your bracelet caught on the fabric of your dress and slipped off your wrist, falling to the ground, causing a tinkling sound. The bracelet was precious to you, but you had to keep going. You just couldn't let him catch you.

You decided to ride the horse into the woods, with the intention of disappearing from view. As Flavius followed you, he saw Cato catching up with him. He drew his sword, turned his horse around and struck Cato with the sword. Cato fell to the ground, screaming in pain. The sword had hit his armour, so he wasn't dead, but he was frustrated. The distance between you and him had grown, and you were feeling pretty tired, so you decided to get off your horse and go through the trees to get to the other side of the city and the Colosseum. But it was a long way to walk. As soon as you heard Flavius' horse, you started running. He saw your silhouette and grinned.

"So you want to play tag, eh, princess?" He dismounted. "You should be aware of that, though. It's my favourite game." He drew his sword, following the tracks you left.

It was really hard to move through the forest without making a sound, especially with the long stola you were wearing. You kept tripping over thorns and bushes as you walked. As he was good at tracking, Flavius was following you calmly, smiling at every crunching noise you made.He crouched down to observe a trail on the ground. "If you surrender now, I promise I won't hurt you.” He grinned cruelly.

You were shaking with fear and trying to calm yourself down. You grabbed the fabric of your stola, pulled it up and tucked it into the belt around your waist, exposing your ankles but at least allowing you to move forward without making a sound. You soon came across a large, thick clump of bushes right next to a puddle. A tree root had created a small cave-like hollow in the soil. You decided to take shelter there because you were really tired. You took your knife out, picked it up, remain still, waiting in silence.

Upon arriving at Palatine Hill, Marcus was met with a gruesome scene: the guards and slaves lying lifeless on the ground. He was too late. Then he saw the slave girl running towards him. She was wounded, but managed to inform them and showed them the direction you were headed. Without a moment's hesitation, Marcus and Octavius mounted their horses and rode off in that direction.

"They must have gone out of the city. I think we should go that way," Octavius said.

"I will head there! We must split-up! You ride down the city, in case of the unexpected!" Marcus pointed down the street.

"Yes, sir!" Octavius rode his horse down the road.

Marcus was just about to kick his horse into a trot when he noticed some children playing with a gold bracelet. It looked familiar. He jumped off his horse, approached them and grabbed it. He knew this bracelet well, because he was the one who gave it to you.

"Where did you get this, child?" he asked one of them.

The child pointed ahead and Marcus rub child's head, then quickly got back on his horse and rode in that direction.

“Princess? Where are you hiding? You know I'll find you eventually. And when I do…”

That sick bastard, you thought. You were glad he didn't sound close. You decided that going the other way would be a better idea. Waiting here was pointless. It made you feel like you were caught in a trap. Just as you were about to stand up, you heard a hissing sound and your eyes widened in shock as you saw a snake ahead. You covered your mouth with your hand to stop yourself screaming. You jumped back. You had to kill the snake before Flavius saw you. You knew he would see you if you stood up. You held your knife tight, aiming at the snake. You missed on your first try but stabbed it the second time. You felt sick, both from the blood flowing from the snake and from this overwhelming feeling of fear.

With your survival instinct, an idea came to your mind. The snake was a viper, which is known to be highly poisonous. Even though it was dead, there was still venom in its fangs. You knew how to get the venom since you'd already produced antivenom many times before, but it was too dangerous with bare hands. You tore the fabric from the hem of your dress, wrapped it around your hand and pressed the dead snake's head to open its mouth and extract the venom from its fangs. The venom was leaking out in a bright yellowish colour. You held your breath and applied the venom to the surface of your knife. You weren't sure how, but you had to cut Flavius somewhere on his body with this knife.

"Found you!"

You froze. His voice was right behind you. Just as you were about to run forward, he grabbed you by the hair and yanked hard. You let out a cry of pain. He yanked your hair harder, turning you to face him.

"I told you to surrender, princess." He grinned.

You lunged at his exposed arm with your knife. He wasn't expecting you to have a knife, so he was caught off guard and you managed to cut him. Flavius let out a cry of pain, and when he released your hair, you took the opportunity to step back. He realised it wasn't just a normal cut when he started rubbing it with his hand. The poison had mixed with his blood and caused him terrible pain as it spread through his veins. He groaned loudly and then looked at you angrily.

“You whore!” He grabbed you by the arm and hit you hard in the face. You stumbled backward and fell. You crawled away from him with all your strength. “I said I wouldn't hurt you, but I changed my mind.”

He grabbed your hair again, yanked, turned you around, so he was right on top of you. His weight made it difficult for you to breathe. "I'm really going to hurt you. A lot." Flavius was running his pugio over your face. You felt the sharp edge of the knife against your skin as you fought against him.

A horse neighed loudly in the distance and you both looked in that direction. He uttered a curse and raised his pugio to stab you. Then, you heard footsteps running towards you and a familiar angry roar, then Marcus appeared and jumped on Flavius, pushing his body off you. They rolled on the grass. After his weight lifted off of you, you took a deep breath and looked at them. They were locked in a fierce struggle, punching each other with groans.

Marcus drew his pugio and stabbed him in the leg, then punched him in the face. He quickly got on top of him and started hitting him in the face again and again. Flavius was struggling to breathe, but he managed to hit the wound on his arm. Marcus groaned in pain. He seized the opportunity to kick him. This time Marcus was on the ground. You were shaking, but you had to think fast. As soon as you realised your knife was on the ground, you ran to it. You snatched it and forced yourself to remember the attack moves Marcus had taught you before. You lunged, aiming for Flavius' neck, who was punching Marcus in the face. Marcus hit Flavius with his elbow and realised you were approaching.

“Aurelia!” he shouted, holding out his hand as if to stop you.

Flavius had his pugio in his hand and could have cut you down in an instant. But you were the first to act. As soon as he turned his head towards you, you stabbed him in the throat with your knife. His eyes widened in surprise as blood gushed from the open cut in his throat onto your face, your clothes and your hands. He reached for the knife, grasping it as if he intended to pull it out. But he was wheezing and choking on his own blood as he tried to breathe. You stared at him, your eyes wide with shock. Marcus's voice sounded muffled to your ears. He shook you by the shoulders, but you were completely numb and paralysed. As Flavius' lifeless body collapsed to the ground, you looked at your hands. They were red and wet. Your gaze fell upon Flavius' body again. The blood flowing out of his throat was slow, the effect of the poison, you thought.

Marcus took your face in his hands. Seeing the faint smile on his face, feeling his touch on your skin, your body came back to life.

“Aurelia my love? Are you alright? Speak please, say anything.” He sounded concerned.

“M. Marcus, I... I killed him.” You mumbled.

Marcus wrapped his arms tightly around you.

“Shhh, I know.” He whispered. His hands ran through your hair which was smeared with blood in some places. He rubbed your head and kissed over and over, exhaling with relief. Then he looked at you once more, his eyes holding yours in a gaze that was both intense and unwavering. "It's over, my love. You are safe now." He wiped the blood from your face with his fingers. He kissed your temple and touched his forehead to yours. You stayed like that for a while. Then you heard horses neighing in the distance.

“Sir!”

Octavius and Cato leapt off their horses and ran to you.

"Are you alright, my lady? Sir?" Octavius asked. His eyes then travelled over Flavius' body.

“We are now,” Marcus answered for you.

Octavius moved towards Flavius' body and spat a curse at him.

"Cato, give me a hand," Marcus said, and he helped you to your feet, but your legs were shaking. He wrapped his arms around you and lifted you into his arms. Cato held the horse's reins to keep it still. He approached the horse and carefully helped you on. Then he climbed on and settled behind you. He pulled you against his chest and grasped the horse's reins. "Hang in there, my love," he said firmly. Accompanied by Octavius and Cato, he rode slowly toward Palatine Hill.

thank you for reading! your reblogs, comments, likes are soo important to me so please if you enjoyed, support me thank you..

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#fanfiction #fanfic #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal gifs #pedro pascal #ao3 fanfic #general marcus acacius #marcus acacius x female reader #marcus acacius #general acacius #gladiator ii #marcus acacius x reader #gladiator ll #marcus acacius x you #marcus acacius smut #marcus acacius x ofcreader

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kate-bridgerton · 1 year ago

Text

Daenerys and Aemon

On Braavos, it had seemed possible that Aemon might recover. Xhondo’s talk of dragons had almost seemed to restore the old man to himself. That night he ate every bite Sam put before him. “No one ever looked for a girl,” he said. “It was a prince that was promised, not a princess. Rhaegar, I thought … the smoke was from the fire that devoured Summerhall on the day of his birth, the salt from the tears shed for those who died. He shared my belief when he was young, but later he became persuaded that it was his own son who fulfilled the prophecy, for a comet had been seen above King’s Landing on the night Aegon was conceived, and Rhaegar was certain the bleeding star had to be a comet. What fools we were, who thought ourselves so wise! The error crept in from the translation. Dragons are neither male nor female, Barth saw the truth of that, but now one and now the other, as changeable as flame. The language misled us all for a thousand years. Daenerys is the one, born amidst salt and smoke. The dragons prove it.” Just talking of her seemed to make him stronger. “I must go to her. I must. Would that I was even ten years younger.” The old man had been so determined that he had even walked up the plank onto the Cinnamon Wind on his own two legs, after Sam made arrangements for their passage.

“No,” the old man said. “It must be you. Tell them. The prophecy … my brother’s dream … Lady Melisandre has misread the signs. Stannis … Stannis has some of the dragon blood in him, yes. His brothers did as well. Rhaelle, Egg’s little girl, she was how they came by it … their father’s mother … she used to call me Uncle Maester when she was a little girl. I remembered that, so I allowed myself to hope … perhaps I wanted to … we all deceive ourselves, when we want to believe. Melisandre most of all, I think. The sword is wrong, she has to know that … light without heat … an empty glamor … the sword is wrong, and the false light can only lead us deeper into darkness, Sam. Daenerys is our hope. Tell them that, at the Citadel. Make them listen. They must send her a maester. Daenerys must be counseled, taught, protected. For all these years I’ve lingered, waiting, watching, and now that the day has dawned I am too old. I am dying, Sam.” Tears ran from his blind white eyes at that admission.

That had been one of his last good days. After that the old man spent more time sleeping than awake, curled up beneath a pile of furs in the captain’s cabin. Sometimes he would mutter in his sleep. When he woke he’d call for Sam, insisting that he had to tell him something, but oft as not he would have forgotten what he meant to say by the time that Sam arrived. Even when he did recall, his talk was all a jumble. He spoke of dreams and never named the dreamer, of a glass candle that could not be lit and eggs that would not hatch. He said the sphinx was the riddle, not the riddler, whatever that meant. He asked Sam to read for him from a book by Septon Barth, whose writings had been burned during the reign of Baelor the Blessed. Once he woke up weeping. “The dragon must have three heads,” he wailed, “but I am too old and frail to be one of them. I should be with her, showing her the way, but my body has betrayed me.”

#daenerys targaryen #daenerystargeryenedit #gotdaenerystargaryen #maester aemon #house targaryen #targnation #targaryensource #gotedit #asoiaf #asoiafedit #hotdedit #tvedit #tvgifs #userblorbo #usergif #dailyflicks #fantasyedit #userbbelcher #creations

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fishnets-fingers · 1 year ago

Text

Underneath the Stars

“So, accept defeat,” he urges.

“Fine. Tell me where the alpha centauri is,” she demands.

“What would my compensation be?”

“How about not making you walk the plank at dawn,” she scoffs.

“You drive a hard bargain, Princess. I was thinking less along the lines of not drowning and more along the lines of this,” he mutters as his hands reach to cup her full cheeks. They are warm under his palms, even against the biting gust, his thumb moves to caress her pillowy lips, eyes flicking down to her mouth landing on the crescent birthmark by her chin.

PAIRING - spy!harry x princess!y/n

a/n - i wrote so much. so, i’ve decided to split it into two parts. i made a banner for forbidden hours and it took me a lot longer than anticipated but i think it tured out great. as always, like and reblog. feed back is not only appreciated but much welcome. happy reading!

Word Count - 6.2k (not proofread)

MASTERPOST | MASTERLIST

….

நீள்பயணம். Voyage. News had spread far and wide across the expanse of the empire about the Princess’ journey far East. Throngs of people gathered on the docks to bid farewell to her and scream out wishes of luck and fortune. It was a busy day, filled with fanfare from the subjects, priests blessing the vessel and ministers of court spewing out strategies whilst handing bundles of parchment of the meticulously crafted plans.

A journey always stirred up feelings of unbridled joy, especially since the aim of this particular voyage is to draw up a treaty with Handuman - three small islands that lie smack in the middle of a crucial trade route between the Cholas and Burmese. The island kingdom that was a thorn on Y/N’s side for the past year; with news of shipment from Burma being pillaged and sabotaged at sea constantly thwarting her plans of bringing components of machinery to assemble aiding with agriculture. She put together a counsel which oversaw striking a peaceful agreement that would mutually benefit both nations, a long drawn process of negotiations with a vacillating King that finally culminated to this day.

A day where she set sail on a three week journey to visit the islands, attend a ball hosted in her honour, and cap it off with signing the treaty. Needless to say the kingdom was ecstatic with the promise of the Princess Royal bringing more riches into the land. All of Y/N’s diplomatic visits to neighbouring kingdoms resulted in astounding successes, so people did not have a shred of doubt that this one would go south. At the break of dawn, the majestic vessel was filled with her entourage - guards, a trade minister, the guard captain who was responsible for her safety, the sail crew, two of her handmaidens, and her lady-in-waiting, Shobhita.

Shobhita has been by Y/N’s side since they were partnered together for dance lessons fifteen years ago. As kids, Y/N took it upon herself to teach her how to conduct herself properly in court. Despite not liking the bossy Princess Royal, things took a turn for Shobhita when some children of nobility made fun of her lineage - going so far as to calling her ‘murky blood.’ She had light blue irises and hair the colour of sticky toffee - resembling her overseas mother, far different from what everyone else looked like and that made her an easy target. Though Y/N was not around for the name calling, she personally gave the other kids a stern talking, going so far as shoving one them and getting confined to her quarters by the Queen Mother. The two have been thick as thieves ever since.

“Remember Y/N, you are representing our Dynasty from the second you dock there until you set sail,” the Queen Mother starts.

“I know. I know, grandmum. Best behaviour and all,” Y/N rolls her eyes.

“You know better than to roll your eyes at me?!?” The older woman narrows her eyes in warning.

“Have I not conducted myself well on my trips so far?”

“I’m not saying that you haven’t, but be wary. I’ve heard nothing but vile things about the Prince of Handuman. I’ve seen to it that your guards have been doubled.”

“Is that why I’m going there alone without any advisors? You know I can take care of myself-“

“I know you can,” the Queen Mother interrupts her. “Keep an eye out on all our girls.” She whispers, taking her palm in her hands and gives it a warm squeeze, before walking towards the chief.

When she gets a minute to herself, Y/N turns away from the enthusiastic crowd, gripping on to a wooden mast, she closes her eyes, picturing her garden. The patch of flowering shrub - right by her reading bench - which attracted the prettiest of blue butterflies. She feels the tightness in her shoulders ebb away, only to have it disrupted when she feels someone pull on her braid. She flicks her head around in annoyance to find her little brother sheepishly looking at her.

“What do you want?”

“You’re sleeping standing up,” Karthi notes.

“I was not. I was trying to relax,” she sighs.

“I’m sure that the vast blue of the water is relaxing enough. Never knowing what’s under the thousands of leagues under the sea. Maybe there’s a giant fish with razor sharp teeth as long as the mountains waiting to capsize the boat. Shame, won’t even know it’s coming in the dark of the night with nothing but pitch black in the horizon-“

“Shut up, Karthi!”

“Calm down,” he throws his hands over her shoulder, pulling her into his side. “You really think Dad is gonna let that happen to his favourite child. There’s no way this voyage was approved by him without contingencies for every single thing that could go wrong. He’s not gonna let the people’s Princess get lost at sea.”

“I appreciate you trying but it’s not helping. Why are you still here anyway? Didn’t Dad want you at the capital yesterday?”

“It can wait,” he shrugs it off. “I’m not going to leave without saying goodbye to my favourite sister.” He bends down to engulf his big sister in a hug.

“I’m your only sister,” she chuckles, swatting him away. “In other words you hung around for morsels of attention from Shobhita.”

“Give me some credit!” He says feigning being wounded. “I brushed my hand against her arm,” he whispers, pointing to his left palm.

Y/N shakes her head at the smirk that tugged at the corner of her little brother’s lips. They’ve had a crush on each other from when they were both old enough to understand what that meant. Being the daughter of a vassal king, who happened to be close friends with her father, it was agreed upon by the elders that Shobhita and Karthi were to wed. Though Shobhita was a Princess of a small hilly region in the dynasty, it was thought best by the parents to have her grow up in the palace and serve with Y/N as her lady-in-waiting to learn the ropes of handing the responsibilities that would fall on her shoulders once she married.

Right as Y/N was going to say something witty, their attention was pulled to the commotion at the gangplank. When Y/N peers over she sees Harry hold up his royal seal to the guards before lugging up his things.

“What’s he doing here?” Y/N asks her grandmother, but finds the Queen Mother cluelessly staring at her grandchildren.

“Your majesties,” Harry bows, and wordlessly hands the Queen Mother’s guard the parchment before it’s passed to the old woman.

His eyes flit over to Y/N with a small smile tugging but he finds her pointedly staring over his shoulder with a scowl. He frowns, did she forget our time at the docks? The last time he saw her was filled with fiery passionate kisses and sweet nothings. He didn’t expect the Princess Royal to throw herself at him in front of everyone but was he not warranted a polite smile.

“It’s from your brother,” the Queen Mother tells the siblings. “Looks like Harry over here would also be travelling with you.”

“What? Why?” Y/N asks, dreading the thought of being locked in close quarters with the spy.

“He wants Harry to accompany you and be added to oversee your guard detail along with the chief.”

“But that makes no sense, he’s hardly a guard,” she protests.

“That’s quite true, Princess but I do know a thing or two about fighting. The Crown Prince wants you to be protected, that-“

“I do not require your protection, Mister Styles,” she huffs, crossing her arms over her chest.

“The Crown Prince has spoken. His reasons are clear,” the Queen Mother tells Y/N firmly, handing her the parchment. “Harry Styles will be accompanying you.”

////

The texts spoke of the majestic wonders of the sea in all its boundless beauty, sailors talked about the vast bodies of water being their companion; the sea was glorified by almost everyone Y/N had met and even by herself - she’d allow herself to stand at the edge of the shoreline and daydream about what life on the other side of the water looked like. There was immeasurable poetry that was either written at sea or took place at sea, but what none of them talked about was what it did to your psyche. Four days of constantly bobbing about the tides, with nothing around but endless blue and a blanket of darkness at nightfall, not to mention the terrifying sounds that accompanied no visibility. She missed the feel of the earth beneath her feet, the smell of her freshly watered gardens, the buzz of bees, birdsong, the vivid colours of her flowers against the green.

She brushed them aside as champagne problems for the first two days but the confines of close quarters were slowly creeping up on her. It didn’t help that she was avoiding Harry on top of all this, so she’d holed herself up in her room with Shobhita working on a project for the gala that’s being thrown in her honour. That’s how she found herself standing at the stern, hands clasped firmly on the wooden banister, at an odd hour in the night. She had her eyes closed, not that it made much of a difference in pitch darkness as she felt the wind against her face. It was eerily quiet, yet noisy as the vessel zipped through the tides, and everytime she flicked her eyes open she would only stare into the vast expanse of the hazy abyss. An insidious fear crept in which made her bones tremble about the nightmarish creatures that would leap out from the water at any moment.

“Careful there, Princess, any more harder and you might splinter the wood,” Harry’s voice cuts through the silence, the teasing apparent in the undercurrent of his tone.

She blinks down at her the way her knuckles have gone pale from gripping onto the wood. Sighing she turns her head to the side, to catch a sweet smile painted on his face as he bows spitting out the formalities.

“Mister Styles,” she acknowledges him halfheartedly, turning her attention back to the abyss.

“Trouble sleeping?” He enquires, stepping forward but the guard captain steps out from the shadow, directly in front of him, blocking his path. Harry throws his arms up, pausing. “I don’t mean any trouble, Captain.”

“You may not approach her royal highness,” he warns, the captain towers over Harry.

“It’s alright, Captain. He may step closer,” Y/N says.

“Princess, no man is allowed in your vicinity without a chaperone,” the Captain reminds her, and it doesn’t escape Y/N, the way he flexes his mammoth muscles to intimidate the spy.

“He is no ordinary man, remember. The Crown Prince has instated him to oversee my guard detail,” she points out. “I think it is time he took over the watch. I have kept you up for three nights now, and it’s high time you get some sleep. You may retire to your cabin for the night, Captain.” She smiles, wordlessly thanking him for being diligent enough to follow her each night.

He nods, muttering something to Harry as he hands over his spear to him. He bids Y/N goodnight and disappears down to his cabin.

“Whew,” Harry breathes out in relief. “Thought I’d be tossed overboard. Thanks for the save.” He mutters, making his way to the banister, leaving a comfortable distance between the two in case the Captain decides to check in on him.

“Don’t go thanking your lucky stars yet, I can certainly see to it that it’s arranged,” she bites back at him.

“You’re angry with me,” he states, making her chuckle.

“Wonder what gave that away,” she mutters, directing an eye roll at him.

He ignores her retort and continues, “You’ve been avoiding me since the minute I came on board.”

“That’s two for two. Gee for a spy, you sure do have a knack for picking up on the fucking obvious,” she shakes her head.

“I don’t understa-”

“Of course you don’t,” she huffs out a weak chuckle. “Apologies start with an I’m sorry.”

“Princess-” he starts, running his hand through his locks. “Y/N, I don’t understand why you’re cross with me. Is it because I’m sailing with you unannounced?”

“God, you’re thick,” she lets out a weak chuckle. “A storm hit the coast two days after you set sail to Lanka, Harry. I didn’t know for weeks if Karthi got the message on time!”

“I’m a good spy, am I not? When have I ever faltered in keeping to your word? Prince Karthi reached the Port Palace two weeks ago, according to your word, did he not?”

“That’s not the point, you idiot!” She turns to face him. “I did not hear from you! I did not know if you made it there. For two whole months! I didn’t know what to think.”

“Oh.” His face reddens as warmth spreads across his chest. He doesn’t understand why but he feels his face split into a wide grin as he replies, “I was doing my job and protocol states that - .”

“And you rode off to Vikram up north,” her tone was still accusatory.

“I had to, Y/N.”

“Why? Why did you have to get to him with such urgency? Was it Karthi’s orders? Why was it so important that you come with me all this way? Don’t give me all that poppycock about me needing extra security. My brother and I trust the captain with our lives. He’s overseen our protection since we were children.”

“Vikram’s mingled with the close friend of the Prince of Handuman. He’s foul, according to his best friend’s admission. He hits women and beds them without consent. He has complete disregard for matters of the court and he is well known for schmoozing -”

“Why does that even matter?”

Harry lets out a frustrated groan, “Will you please just listen to me.” He continues when Y/N quietens down. “The royal astrologer had seen to it that your portraits were sent to all neighbouring kingdoms - under your father’s orders - for matrimony. Prince Vinay had come across it when you were liaising with them for the trade deal. He, um, publicly vowed to…”

“Vowed to what?” She implores when he trails off.

“I’m sorry for being crude but he said that he wanted to ‘tear off your clothes, pin you against his throne and thrust some obedience into you while the court watches.’” He takes in a long breath before he continues, “So you will be under his pinkie and he can boast that the great Chola Princess was another notch on his bedpost.”

Y/N’s face twists in disgust as she processes what Harry had just shared with her. “Vikram knows I can handle myself around such odious men. I have more protection during this trip than I ever had in my life. Why did he send you to supervise my security? You have no experience…”

“It was my idea actually. I asked him to sign that decree to let me join this company and this was the only way to not raise any eyebrows among our men. I know you can handle yourself around the Handuman Prince, but I would not forgive myself if something were to happen to you…” He pauses, eyes roaming around for any lurking shadows, what comes next is communicated in a murmur, “This could provide a perfect cover for a Chola spy to be digging around Handuman.”

“A cover for what?” Her eyebrows scrunch, mouth twisting down in displeasure of being kept in the dark.

“Too many ears around,” he reminds her. He interjects before she can protest, “You will be the first to know once I have evidence.”

They hear a heavy splash making the ship drag, and the two lurch forward at the sudden movement. Y/N gasps, grabbing hold of the bannister and tightening her grip as a strong hand wraps around her elbow and tries to pull her away.

Things feel dissonant for her, there’s a ringing in her ears that’s managed to make all other sounds feel like it’s echoing from deep inside a well, she feels her body spasm as she struggles to draw in breaths, like her throat has something blocking the way. Her vision fades around the edges making her scrunch her eyes shut, but that only makes the successive shallow drum of her heart louder. She can feel the way the boat has a pull under her feet, like it was lugging around something heavy as it resists the sway of the vessel. She’s experienced unease before, but this time was different. This uneasiness was not fleeting. It was a type of fear. Fear oozes from the centre of her bones, slowly following its wake across everything it could consume inside her being. Paralysing to her anomalous senses. “I knew it,” she whispers. “Consumed by the waters, of course.”

If this was how she was going to perish, so be it.

“Princess,” his voice is distorted and faint but she picks it up. “Y/N.” It’s louder this time, floating closer. “We’re fine.” She feels his arms tightening around her frame. “Y/N, look at me.”

////

Harry does not understand what’s happening. Once second, he hears the men throw the anchor into the water and the next Y/N’s crumpled over the banister beside him. She looks to be in pain, her face ashen under the silver beam, he tries to tug her back - away from the edge but she’s bolted, hunching over the banister. He tries getting her attention, but can hear her mutter something about being engulfed by the water and it all makes sense to him. Why she was so hesitant to get on his boat when they were at the docks, how uncomfortable she was sitting opposite him, what made her hole up in her quarters all this time, the way she was gripping onto the banister earlier. The ocean petrified her.

He understands why she was mad for not hearing from him sooner. He left right before a storm hit the coast, showering her in kisses and whispering sweet promises. Promises. Well, promise. He promised to be safe and he did keep up his word, and he left for the battle tents of the Crown Prince, like he normally would when his job was done. But things were not normal. They’d kissed. Several times in fact. And he’d confessed his fondness for her.

He never faltered in his duties, he’d kept them up this time too. He had not realised a duty had implicitly fallen in his shoulders to bear when their lips met. To let her know that he was safe and not taken by the treacherous waters of the stormy seas as she’d let herself imagine. She had been worried about him. He made her worry.

“We’re fine,” he reassures, moving closer to her, holding her close to him.

It takes him a few tries but he gets her to look at him and a few more to convince her to let go of the banister. Her quivering lips and glassy eyes pierce his heart, but he manages to get her to slump to the floor beside him. It takes her a long while to stop trembling but he tightens her torso to his side, hoping to instill some warmth into her.

“We’re fine now,” he reassures, squeezing her hands. “The men tossed the anchor overboard. That is what made us jerk forward along with the ship. It takes a while for the anchor to latch onto the seabed. They’ve retired to their cabins for the night. It’s just that. It has happened everyday since we boarded the ship. It will keep happening until we reach home. We will sail again just before the break of dawn. Nothing is wrong with the ship. We are not in the way of any harm.”

She nods as he continues, “I apologise for not letting you know that I had reached Lanka in one piece. I’m sorry for all the worry I have caused you. I never intended to. I promise to never make you fret again.”

“Okay,” she tells him in a quiet voice, closing her eyes, as she forces her shallow shuddering breath to regain its steadiness.

He looks around once more, making sure that they’re truly alone, before focusing on her blinking back her watery eyes. “Why did you agree to the voyage in the first place?”

“King’s orders,” she tells him softly.

“You’re terrified of the ocean,Y/N ,” he reasons.

“I have duties, Harry. I get to experience all the luxuries one can imagine, compared to all that-” she shrugs. “Champagne problems, I guess.”

Harry shakes his head, she says king like it wasn’t her father. He would never do something that he didn’t want to, no matter who’s orders. But it was important to the princess in front of him and there was no use trying to challenge that. This was her deal, and it only made sense that she saw it through - she owed her people that. Instead he picks a different route, one that would help him understand her better, “What’s got you this scared? I’ve never seen you like this before.” It’s true. She was the first Chola Princess to be trained in combat alongside her brothers - demanding her father that when it came to the worst, she wanted to defend her people. She did not want to be holed underground with other women of court or in a temple praying for victory. She was an excellent rider, often would compete in races and encouraged young girls to follow suit.

“I do not wish to say,” she says hesitantly. She leans back and scoots away, her face slowly regaining composure.

“I don’t mean to pry, Princess. I grew up sailing the waters, I understand not wanting to recount a time -”

“It’s not that. I don’t have a harrowing story or anything.” She adds the next part quietly, “It is risible,” and her cheeks heat in response. Harry quickly notes the way she blushes, making him smile down at her in endearment.

“I promise not to laugh. Sailor’s honour,” he crosses over his heart.

Y/N lets out a peeling giggle in response, “You’re no sailor, Harry.”

“Yes, I am! Was practically born on a ship, Y/N.”

“You were born on a ship?” Y/N asks, sometimes it felt like he knew more about her than she did him.

Harry shakes his head, “Was born in my mother’s cottage in North England.”

“Did you grow up there?”

He shakes his head again, this time quicker with a frown. “No. I grew up on my father’s ship. Back to what we were talking about; you can’t discredit me as a sailor.”

Y/N’s brows scrunch at the sudden pivot in the conversation, but she doesn’t press on further, opting to say, “I thought you were a spy.”

A warmth blossomed in Harry’s chest from the mocking undercurrent of her tone. He’s never had anyone volley a conversation with him, and it came easy with her. “I am more of a ‘Jack of all trades’ kind of person.”

“Ah, I see,” she chuckles, bringing her knees up to her chest and encircling her arms around it. “So a master of none?”

Harry laughs, a high pitched carefree one, “Better than a master of one.”

Companionate silence blankets around the two, Harry passes her his leather water flask - that was clasped to his belt - and she quickly drains it muttering a quiet thank you. Harry leans back on his elbows, looking up at the shimmering moon above, it’s lovely tonight, he thinks. He’s spent many nights in a bobbing vessel with nothing around but the moon as company but he doesn’t feel the familiar solitude tonight. There was no intolerable silence this particular night, just the tinkle of Y/N’s anklet and silent sighs that escapes her lungs. His gaze flits over to her cheek, smushed against her arm, her gaze is fixed on her fingers as they fiddle with the ornament. A simple gold rope with a small lotus motif made from three pink diamonds and an emerald, clasped around her ankle.

Her foot. That’s what caught his attention, not the precious stones, but the curve of the arch of her bare feet. He wonders if it would tickle when he runs his lips over them, as he slowly nudged her knees apart, the fabric slipping away, the way her anklets would tinkle over his shoulders in sync with his head between her thighs. He shakes his head, rubbing his face, shifting to conceal his hardening cock and shoots her a polite smile.

“Not knowing,” Y/N says. “I do not like the deep waters because I have no idea what’s underneath.”

“No one does, Y/N,” he reminds her.

“I know. It is uncomfortable to not know. It feels like I am at its mercy, with the currents that can drag me under in a split second, if I’m not careful enough. It’s vast, and we have not explored these territories. I met with this woman that studies living creatures, and she believes that there is a high possibility of colossal squids and fishes deep down. There are old sailing accounts and drawings as proof. You have seen giant sharks and whales, have you not?”

Harry nods, as she continues fidgeting with her anklet.

“Life began in the waters, Harry, and we hardly know a thing about it. We cannot survive diving the depths; we certainly cannot compete with the predators that we know of. Imagine being at mercy of something unknown. It is the biggest mystery known, quite possibly the worst because it takes up much of our planet and we cannot even begin to understand it. The ocean has had a longer time to evolve than us, and we know much of the sky than we do about what is below.”

Y/N looks up at him, chin resting on her arm, as she waits for a response. She feels a pang of regret opening up to him when she is not met with anything. You expect him to comfort him just because you kissed a few times, a voice rings in her head followed by her grandmother’s lecture of having one’s cards close to your chest. No royal ever spoke of things that frightened them, she never did either. So, why did she think this was a good idea? Her maternal great - grandfather, a Chera king, was thrown into the castle moat filled with crocodiles by his subjects. He was vain and cruel to his people - granted that could have been the reason - but it had been prophesied that he would meet his end by the scaly reptilians, so he rewarded people to poach every last one of them and had them all in his moat. Ironically, he actively participated in furthering his prophecy while trying to avoid it. People would not have picked death by crocodiles if they never knew about his irrational fear. The kingdom was in shambles for many years until the birth of her mother, which enabled them to forge an alliance with the Cholas through matrimony.

While the Princess was caught in her own dilemma, Harry had a similar one running through his mind. He wants to assure her how secure ships are. He wants to explain how when you’re in the middle of nowhere with dwindling supplies, you start to see and hear things that aren’t really there. He wants to tell her that worrying would do her no good, especially the things that were occupying her mind because they were simply out of her control. All of the things he’d come to learn from his father’s experiences and his own. She was right, they barely knew about the ocean, but it wasn’t something to lose sleep over. But he understands, Harry was also scared of the ocean as a child before he got used to it. This was Y/N’s first time, and fears aren’t supposed to be rational. It wasn’t far-fetched, she had her nose stuck in books for answers and was born into duties, which required she understood the workings of life. She prided herself for being a step ahead of people around her and to do that one needed control. But the moment didn’t call for revelations; she needed solace.

He gives her a sympathetic smile before going on to say, “I was scared of the endless ocean as a child too, especially at night. You’re right, we don’t know much about the sea but we do know a lot about the sky.

“Look up for me, Princess,” he continues and they both take in the twinkling dots in the blanket of the night.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispers, beaming up at the gleaming moon.

“It is. We’re so caught up by things around us, we often forget to look up. The sky's the one thing that will not change. The moon will wax and wane and the stars will stay right where they are, flickering, guiding us to shore. It helped to look up at the sky when I was scared or in trouble. To be reminded that in the grand scheme of things, my fears didn’t matter. For whatever reason, the cosmos flows through me and that would mean my existence is a marvel. Even for a speck - no bigger than a grain of sand on the beach - the sky has many wonders in store for me.”

She stays quiet, her eyes glassing over, blurring her vision. Harry quickly catches the stray tear from the corner of her eyes with the backs of his fingers. He coos, leaning over to brush his lips against her temple, “I apologise for saying something out of line, Y/N.”

“You're not out of line, Harry,” she hastily blinks back her tears. “It helps. Thank you.”

“You don’t need to-“

“I want to.”

Anyone else pondering their significance by looking out into the universe might end up feeling helpless, paralysed even, but she feels none of that. She was born into significance and her roles only cemented the burden of upholding the legacy of the Crown. So, letting herself feel like a mere speckle was liberating.

////

The days that follow the same routine - the Princess holes herself up in her cabin during the day with Shobhita. Harry’s unsure what she was up to - and formulating any judgement from the box of fabric spools one of the handmaidens carted into her room, and the occasional laughs from behind the door - he’s happy she was occupied. It was hard to catch a glimpse of her when the sun was shining; there were guard’s stationed outside at all times and he did not want to tick off the guard captain.

The nights. That solely belongs to the two of them. She would come out of her cabin two hours before midnight to catch some fresh air to find him softly smiling at her. He'd readily stand, at the ship’s bow, with a spear in his hand by the intricately carved wooden swan figurehead. Y/N had ordered the guard captain to retire at night, since he’d been stationed by her cabin all day. When he’d resisted - uncomfortable that the Crown Prince had instated a young man with no prior expertise as head of security- she’d gently reminded him that it was best for Harry to learn what guarding actually entailed in the safe confines of their ship. They’d spend the nights in each other’s companionship, Y/N’s heart swelled with Harry’s stories. Particularly the one of him as a boy, where he was convinced that someone had left a giant bunny up the moon. She looked at him endeared as he pointed out the outline of the rabbit in the dark markings of the full moon. It soothed her, looking up at the heavens with someone made her confining thoughts about the ocean melt away.

This night was no different, the Princess pads to her usual spot to find a blanket spread out with two pillows. Her eyes fly to meet him and he gives her the same smile he did every night, bending down to light the two oil lamps, illuminating the jade of his eyes. “Your highness,” he bows, stepping away.

She nods, shooting him a surprised smirk as she curls up with her book. Harry eyes the old parchment she unfolds, a star catalogue, and he can’t help the chortle that escapes his lips.

“Stop it, Mr. Styles,” Y/N shoots him a warning look, not wanting to draw the attention of the crew.

“I apologise, majesty,” he murmurs, but Y/N notices the mocking smile that paints his lips.

She pointedly ignores him with a roll of her eyes, as she focuses her attention on Aryabhata’s text in front of her. Harry had challenged her last night, and she was determined not to lose.

The crew had dropped the anchor and had retired below deck a short while ago, and Harry could not help but admire the furrow in between her brows as she concentrated. Harry had spent the last few nights pointing out different constellations that Y/N simply could not fathom. Harry was amused that it bugged her so much that she couldn’t map out the stars in the night’s sky with ease. Her anklet falls on the blanket, and he’s sure that she had loosened the clasp from how much she fiddled with it while reading. She sighs, turning her attention back to the gold rope, fastening it in place, making sure to press down on the hook.

“Rijl al-Qinṭūrus”, she reads out loud in Arabic after a long while, flicking up to look at the sky. The star map had a figure of a centaur and all she had to do was find the brightest one right at the bottom. Her head cranes to find the brightest spot in the sky - the alpha centauri.

The only problem was, there were multiple bright specks and she lets out a defeated sigh, pushing her hair back, “Fuck this,” she mutters.

“Not very royal of you, Princess,” Harry’s teasing tone floats over, she finds him slumped over the bannister looking at her.

“It is the brightest and biggest star to spot at night,” he reminds her.

She narrows her eyes at him, looking back at the star catalogue again, and slumps back in defeat. “There’s something wrong with this star catalogue,” she declares. “There has to be, Harry.”

“Or maybe you are inept at this,” he smirks, coming to sit beside her.

“I am not!” She protests. “The illustrations are misleading. None of the constellations look like this,” she points to the image of a centaur holding a spear on one hand and a dead goat on the other.

“That’s because it’s meant for people like you,” he chuckles.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She arches her brow.

“Someone who learns from books. It only makes sense the catalogue has full fledged pictures of animals on there, otherwise it would be a mess of lines connecting one dot to another. So, accept defeat,” he urges.

“Fine. Tell me where the alpha centauri is,” she demands.

“What would my compensation be?”

“How about not making you walk the plank at dawn,” she scoffs.

“You drive a hard bargain, Princess. I was thinking less along the lines of drowning and more along the lines of this,” he mutters as his hands reach to cup her full cheeks. They are warm under his palms, even against the biting gust, his thumb moves to caress her pillowy lips, eyes flicking down to her mouth landing on the crescent birthmark by her chin. They hadn’t kissed since he’d left for Lanka and every night he’d spend in her presence, Harry’s mind could not stop drifting to the way her mouth pressed against his with urgency.

Y/N eyes flutter shut, leaning towards him, nudging his cupid's bow with her lips. Her mouth brushes his as she whispers, “Not before I get my information, spy.” She backs away, observing the way his pupils dilate under the soft buttery light.

“You can’t spot the alpha centauri-”

“I know, which is why I asked you.”

He rolls his eyes at her hastiness. “No one can, because it can only be seen from the southern hemisphere.”

“You tricked me,” she gasps.

He shrugs, as he tugs her to him, wasting no time in capturing her lips against his. It was more heavenly than he’d remembered. Y/N’s hands snake up to bury them in the baby curls at the nape of his neck, bringing him closer. She melts against his chest, curiously slicking her tongue against his lips, smiling as he parts his mouth for her. She tasted like the tamarind candy she loved. Harry drops one of his hands from her cheek, finding home in the curve of her hip. It’s heady, both greedily smacking wet kisses the curve of their jaw when they part to draw in air. Harry’s heart thumps loudly against his chest, sending him rhythmic reminders that he was twitterpated by the woman trailing her lips against the stubble of his jaw. Plebeians and royalty don’t mix, and on the rare occasion that they did, it never ended well. But until midday tomorrow - when they would reach the port of Handuman - she was just a woman, made from the same stardust as him, whom he wanted to keep melding lips with.

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theothermaidoftarth · 10 months ago

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Daeron Targaryen, son of Viserys I and Alicent Hightower

Excerpt from my fic Song for Evermore:

It was not usual that newly ascended lords travel to the Red Keep to do homage to the Iron Throne, to the Crown, but Ormund Hightower had done so at the behest of his uncle, the Lord Hand. He performed the commendation ceremony twice, bare-headed and weaponless as a sign of his submission; once before the court, full to bursting with spectators highborn and low, and then again in the king’s chambers with the queen, Hand, members of the Small Council and the Keep’s septon as witnesses. Thus was Ormund invested as the new Lord of the Hightower, Lord of the Port, Beacon of the South, Defender of the Citadel, Oldtown’s Voice, Defender and Lord. Such a heavy weight of titles. His shoulders could bear them up, as easily as he’d borne up Daeron on one arm and Lyonel on the other as boys, while they giggled and shrieked.

Daeron was five when he first went to Oldtown. He couldn’t remember much of his first impressions, only that he’d thought it was a holiday, at first. Until it dawned on him that he wasn’t going back to the Red Keep, not unless the king or queen wished him back. He had been dumped at the Hightower like a sack of weevil-infested barley. His mother saw it differently, barely a day into the Hightowers’ presence at the Keep she had said to him: “I know it was necessary you be here but I still rather wish you had stayed away. This is not the place for you. You are too good to be drawn into… all of this.”

He had felt a curious roiling in his stomach. Was court not where he was supposed to be as the son of the king? Third son, yes, but a dragonrider; a consummate courtier, personable, well-spoken, courteous, the image of charm and grace itself — or so many and more courtiers had gushed since his arrival three days before. Why have they been hiding you away, my prince. You are ever so delightful. You are the sun itself, smiling down upon us all. Oh Prince Daeron, you are a charmer; not like your brothers at all. It is true what they say, the Reach does produce fine crop. Fine, indeed.

The praise was heady, like the first sip of strongwine. He couldn’t yet tell if he liked it or not. He’d only known such praise from foreign envoys come to call at the Hightower, or Reachlords who had daughters they were looking to marry off. He was just Daeron to his Hightower family, even after he claimed Tessarion at the age of nine. Just Daeron with ink liable to stain his fingers from all his scribblings; just Daeron who was getting a bit of squint from all the reading he did even by dying candlelight; just Daeron who was more likely to follow than lead.

But now to the courtiers of the Red Keep, he was the sun that lights up our sky; a jewel of the age; the Beacon of the Crownlands (Beacon of the Crown, one daring lady whispered).

Why send him away, a mere babe of five yet keep Aegon, perpetually drunk, teary if not sneering, eyes lingering where they shouldn’t and hands too if the way the maidservants acted told it true. Their wariness had extended to Daeron too until they saw his kindness was no illusion, that he acted as such with everyone, highborn or low. He would ask but he was wary of feeling his mother’s loving touch. It is only because I love you that I do this, he heard her say the very day he arrived as she gripped Aegon’s chin in her hand. Everything I have done has been for you, to prepare you and save y— She noticed Daeron then, lingering by the doorway of her rooms, half afraid to come in. She smiled at him wanly and released Aegon. Her eldest son scuttled away, the dismissal unheard but clear. That was when she said she wished he had stayed away. Where is duty? she asked the Crown Princess Rhaenyra on High Tide one dark night. Where is sacrifice? Trampled under your little foot again. He thought, Was I one of your sacrifices, Mother?

#image courtesy of bing ai image creator #daeron the daring #daeron targaryen #OtherTarthianMaidWrites #character study #rare pair #daeron x baela #complete fic #house of the dragon #hotd au #hotd fic #neither team green or team black #team chaos though…#complete fanfic #complete

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totkdaily · 9 months ago

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Day 41: Trouble in Kakariko Village

At dawn, I head out again from Dueling Peaks Stable. It's a gorgeous morning.

As I ride up the hill I see Naydra flying almost out of the sunrise over the hills towards the peaks. Stunning.

I check the secluded area past the rocks up the hill for old times' sake - there used to be a monster camp there. But now it looks like this is where the Stable Trotters' Beetz is camped.

It's a beautiful outlook here, to be fair.

He's trying to summon bees. He wants honey to make Mastro some honey crepes to cheer him up. He needs three combs of courser bee honey - apparently there's a chasm near Kakariko Village and bees nearby - so why's he camped here, so far from the village? Oh. It's scary. Fair enough. I give him some of my honey and let him know the Stable Trotters are actually just down the hill.

In the pass between the hills, Addison again! How many signs can one guy build?

There are ruins right by the village entrance. Letty and Totsuna are investigating. They point to one down the hill, which apparently the Princess has forbidden entrance to. I sense shenanigans. Letty and Totsuna want to be part of the Zonai Survey Team, and they think pinching parts of the ruins for personal study is the way to go about it.

Garshon is riding out of town, and says we met at New Serenne Stable. He got sick of his brother's arguing about swords and beasts - ah, I remember! - and went off to explore caves and ruins himself. He's got a good memory for faces - it must be nearly a month since I saw him.

At the top of the village, Lasli is worried about her grandmother - and Claree, who runs the clothing shop. I remember her - I hope I have enough gems to trade for some sneaking clothes. Lasli's grandmother got too close to the Gloom and is sick.

The only thing she can eat is porridge made of hylian rice, fresh milk and wild greens - and Lasli needs a porridge that will cure gloom sickness. I have the sundelion I think will do the trick, but no rice and milk.

I'll come back. There used to be a grocery shop at the bottom of the hill.

Ruins have fallen on the house opposite the clothing shop. Wasn't that Dorian and his daughters' house? I hope they're alright!

Part of the ruin is being used as some kind of workshop - Wortsworth is here, from Lookout Landing. He's translated the tablet that landed at Lookout Landing - it reads:

"Once held in honor as 'hochmayde' (handmaid?) to King Rauru and Queen Sonia, thereafter to his sister and to Princess Zelda. Here on this great stone and twelve more 'withalle make y endite min time' with the royal family. So might 'heore' remembrance preserve for the sake of him on whom our hope rests."

The author says she wrote 13 stone tablets in total about the Royal family. I wonder if more of them will mention Zelda? Wortsworth reckons she's a chambermaid of some kind.

Wortsworth thinks Zelda's mention proves the name is as old as Hyrule - which is, I suppose, technically true. He'll reward me for pictures of any other stone tablets - though the translation will be reward enough for me.

I visit the clothing shop. 5000 rupees for the stealth chest guard?? I may not have enough gems after all. How can they be so much more expensive?

Claree is Lasli's older sister - ah. They want the money for their grandmother's treatment. That's fair enough, but I can't afford it. I might be able to gather the ingredients they need, though.

I just need to register the shrine here, and then I can nip back to Lookout Landing for the supplies I need.

I visit the Goddess statue for stamina first. Koko is selling ring garlands in the square - very sweet. She's grown since I saw her last.

Then I head to the Chief's House. Impa's away looking for geoglyphs, so who's running things here?

Dorian's guarding the Chief's House. He says Paya is in charge? Well, it's Lady Paya now. But the last time I saw her she could barely speak to anyone.

Dorian has been assisting her, for which I'm glad. But he says all she thinks about is the ring ruins. He asks me to speak to her, to try to remind her of her other duties.

I squelch through the rain to meet her - she's talking with Tauro. She doesn't seem confident in being chief… I suppose she had no choice when Impa left.

I have to tell her that the Princess is still missing. But Paya says she's seen her? Immediately after the Upheaval? She confirms what Letty and Totsuna said - the Princess has forbidden anyone to investigate one of the five ring ruins.

I can't imagine Zelda forbidding research. And it just doesn't make sense. Surely this is the imposter's work? She left suddenly once she'd delivered the instruction, which is a pattern I'm beginning to recognise from the imposter.

Paya and Tauro agree it doesn't make sense, but they say that the Princess must have had a reason, so we still can't go up there - annoying.

Calip of the Survey Team is guarding the ruins and won't let me even walk beneath them - does that mean people can't even visit the graves that lie beyond? That's unreasonable.

I think of Koko and her sister, and their mother's grave. Paya has to see sense.

In the Chief's House, I find a journal of anonymous worries. Someone only finds comfort sleeping on the stone slabs in the ring ruins - weird. Lasli wants to know how to cure Gloom sickness - I know why. Monsters have appeared at one of the ring ruins out west - Drenja from the Zonai Survey Team needs help. Trissa can't find where the cuccos are laying, so the stores and the village are running low. Cottla - sorry, Not Cottla - has found a secret base for her and her mother - presumably because she's not allowed to visit her mother's grave.

A litany of concerns and worries. All ignored. How could Impa abandon these people? How could Paya not see that they need her?

I find Purah's diary under Paya's bed - what's it doing there? She says she's hiding volumes of her diary around - she must have begun this before the Upheaval, I can't imagine she'd bother now. She writes that there's one in her own room. One at the Hateno Lab. One here. Where's the fourth?

Paya's Diary of a Chief is on the desk, so I read that too. She writes of the swiftness with which Impa made her chief and left her to it. Dorian was concerned but said nothing to stop it. She documents the Upheaval, the fall of the ring ruins and the opening of the chasm. It was after that that Impa left. She had been reading a book with eleven symbols - are there that many geoglyphs? Or is this something else?

She says the Zelda who visited was "like a doll of herself… the same outside, but no spirit within." The description chills me. Others have said that they've seen a cold, emotionless Zelda. Surely this is the imposter. The Princess I know has always been warmth personified.

Paya believes the village has been reinvigorated by the ring ruins, research and tourism. How can I make her see the truth? Her people need her.

I head back outside. Letty and Totsuna are sheltering from the rain in the inn. The guy behind the counter, Dai, briefly tries to charge me 10,000 rupees for a bed - but quickly reveals he doesn’t work here. The owner left to make up the Survey Team’s beds and hasn't come back. There’s four camp tents around the village, so he could be anywhere. If I see a sleepy guy, Dai asks me to send him back to the inn to take over. Fine.

Outside, I meet Bugut. He’s come to see the ring ruins, and specifically the stone slabs with writing on, but he’s deathly afraid of heights. I’ll get him some photos.

The weather clears at dusk. Trissa, in the produce store, says the old guys who stock it are busy driving off monsters - is this related to the call for help from the Zonai Survey Team I read in the Chief’s House? Probably - she says to head west to find them.

I climb the hill to start heading to the shrine, finally, and find the Southern Ring Ruin Research Camp - complete with journal by Cori. They’ve found sundelions here and are cultivating them in the plum orchard. They’ve also found a Device Dispenser, which baffles them but is very useful for me.

I take the scaffolding up the hill for a better gliding point to the shrine - and of course, by that point I might as well go and check out the ring ruins. Tauro’s left some translation notes from this ring:

“There were (those) known as sages...who protect(ed the kingdom) of Hyrule from the Demon King together (with) King (Rauru).”

Nothing new there. But I do wonder if the others contain any new information.

I glide down to the shrine, and spend the rest of the night solving it.

#totkdaily #day 41 #nice long one today - loads going on in Kakariko Village #totk #loz #zelda #legend of zelda

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oksana-moods · 2 years ago

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Queens of Promise - Part 6

Summary: There are a lot of things that you learnt throughout your life, but getting under Wanda’s skin is one of your best skills.

A/N: Didn’t take long, right? Thank you all for passing by and showing some appreciation, this means a lot.

Trigger Warning: Violence, mentions of blood, death, burial. Game of Thrones canon violence.

Previous parts here

"A darkness comes at dawn"

Campsite at the Battlefield

Wanda sighed, trashing the scroll on her hand to the fire before her feet. Seeing her friend so bothered, Natasha asked. “What was in the letter?”

“Pietro endorses my deal with Taharr, but he said that Vision disapproves it, saying that they can see our fear as a weakness and use it to double cross us.” Wanda worked her lips with the same vigor her fingers tried to ease her headache.

“Fear?” Natasha inquired, confused.

“Vision thinks that negotiating a truce to spare our army is to show our enemy that we fear lacking soldiers or can’t afford more combatants before running out of liegemen.” Wanda clarified, tired of this whole nonsense, yet she was angry for not seeing the whole picture.

“I’d hardly call it fear. Sparing your men is acting with intelligence, if anything, makes you a human worried about your own people.” Natasha offered to her friend whose crinkles looked permanent between her brows.

“I know and I agree with you.” Wanda sighed one more time, eyes cast on the fire. “They want us to return home. Immediately.”

“Will you?” Natasha was genuinely confused about the defeat on her friend’s tone.

“I already sent a bird saying that we’re leaving the campsite by tomorrow.” Wanda locked eyes with Natasha and the latter could see determination burning in them. “But we’ll move to Karov Village, I’ll only ride north after making sure Steve is free and safe with us.”

Days had passed and Wanda’s unit finally arrived in Karov. The tragical events of her last visit still fresh in her memory, a sour taste lingering on the tip of her tongue as she led her horse through the streets. Although the sign of Nebula’s Pub ‘n’ Lodge had new paintings on it, the princess saw that its interior still looked like the same.

Same smell, same people or volume of conversation and even the same person she had met few years ago. Almost on the same corner as before, you were seated with simple clothes but this time there were Taharrian details oozing from it.

You and your companions were enjoying a song-tale sang by Lady Carol, the Marvelous, just like before, however this time there was a woman seated on your lap. Hands running absentmindedly through your hair while you had your hand on the small of her back.

Wanda stared at the two of you a second too long, all the noise went to the back of her head and all she could focus on was on your hand softly caressing the woman’s skin while said woman played with your hair as if there was no one else around, even though you were talking to your friend, Captain Lady Rambeau.

There was this sick feeling bubbling, simmering on her stomach that she had to physically restrain herself from taking the remaining steps until your form and rip that woman away from your lap.

Such feelings were unexpected and completely foreign to Wanda, but she thought that seeing such behavior in public was uncanny, especially because you were a princess and should behave like one and not as riffraff.

Begrudgingly, she walked to where your group was and made herself known.

“What are you doing here?” Wanda’s voice alarmed everyone on table, except you. You kept that dashing smile that was imprinted in her mind by now.

“Did you know that Nebula’s wheat beer is the best in Noveria?” Wanda head snapped towards you and your hand lifting the beer stein as if offering her to take a stein herself.

“I’m here to retrieve a friend, not for beer tasting.” The northern princess spat, then turned to the woman sitting on your lap, who was rather wide eyed. The woman had recognized her. Good. “Who are you?” She inquired without a single trace of politeness, if the princess of Taharr could be unladylike, so could she.

“I-I’m…” The woman’s eyes darted around, as if only then she realized where she was or doing. “I’m no one, m’la-… I mean, Your Highness.” She tried, after she found her voice. Wanda could see the woman coiling on your lap and reminded herself to bite back a smile when she tried to get up.

However, the woman was stopped by your hand keeping her seated, and that brought a scowl back to Wanda’s features. You were insufferable.

“No need for pleasantries, dear. She doesn’t really care.” You half-whispered to the woman but you meant for everyone to hear you. You meant for Wanda to hear you.

Then, you turned to Wanda and spoke. “You’ll have your friend when and where we agreed, Princess.” You took a sip from your stein carelessly and Wanda couldn’t help but think that you were stalling just to get under her skin. “I remember agreeing that I’d return Lord Rogers to Sir Barnes’ care, though, not yours.”

The redhead stared at you dead in the eye and oh she hated how you could talk about important things in a tone that mixed sarcasm and seriousness the way you did. It was exasperating, to say the least. “I’m a Maximoff, and I can do whatever pleases me.”

“That little, then?” You inquired with a smirk wide in your lips. “Because with a scowl like that, I’m sure no one ever pleased you.”

Wanda’s murderous look could’ve set you on fire on the spot if she tried harder, you were sure. “I’d keep that promiscuous mouth shut if you want to live one more day, Lioness.”

“Experienced.” You muttered in between gulps of the stein’s content, pretending you were completely unbored by the conversation or her threat. To be honest, you loved to see how much effect you had on her, she hated you, of course, but you always loved to make her angrier.

Somehow, whenever she tilted her head in what should be a warning in itself did for you. She was beautiful, but there was something about her when angry that always made her look like a mad goddess. It was dangerous and you loved it. “I beg your pardon?” Wanda shot you a puzzled look and you had to fight back a laugh at how adorable she looked at that moment.

“I said my mouth is experienced, especially in pleasure, Princess.” Your smirk turned into a toothed grin while you saw Wanda registering the words you had said and their meaning.

“You are- uh, you are infuriating!” As her face burned red, Wanda stormed out of the pub before she did something she might regret later. She, surely, didn’t want to send a letter to her brother informing him that she had killed the heir of Taharr’s throne.

----

She could kill the Princess of Taharr and, certainly, would. Definitely. After they had dealt with these bandits, she would definitely kill you.

“Stop scowling and start chopping, Maximoff!” She heard the Lioness shout over the confusion generated by the clangs of metal colliding against metal.

“Let me remind you that we’re in this situation because of you.” Wanda shouted back, after she parried another sword coming to her direction.

Though completely focused on the fight happening in front of her, the redhead could still see how expertly you moved during a battle, fighting three enemies at the same time. You were indeed a great warrior and Wanda simply knew that you probably born wielding a sword.

“Please,” From the corner of her eye, she saw you kick an opponent in the chest before replying. “Could you remind me later when there isn’t a blade trying to cut our throats?” You punctuated the sentence with another strike of your sword. Now there were only two opponents.

Wanda moved swiftly parrying, striking and it felt like there was an endless sea of black hooded men, while there were too little warriors in red with gold or silver. Though Taharrian and Sokovian’s forces were visibly more skilled than those bandits, they still had numbers.

Lots of them, apparently.

She raised her shield to block another sword, but quickly counterattacked and the lifeless form hit the ground at the same time another man tried to cut her with his spear.

Wanda lost count on how many she had chopped, as you had said. Although she could feel her feet getting slower due tiredness, the redhead wouldn’t stop fighting. She felt someone bumping on her back and when she turned her head, she saw that it was you.

It took only one glimpse for her to understand the scenario. There were at least six or seven enemies surrounding you both, hence why your back was pressed against hers. You expected she’d protect yours while you guarded hers.

Could she trust you, though? Wanda’s mind was plagued by misgivings that were long carved in her brain: ‘one should never trust a Taharrian, let alone a lioness.’ You could easily hurt her now, or even let an enemy hurt her exposed form.

Her brain was haywire with doubts and concerns when her thoughts were sliced by your voice. It was muffled as you breathed through your mouth, you were tired, yet you stood tall. “I trust you’ll have my back, Wanda.”

Trust.

Was it possible for sworn enemies to trust in each other? Was it possible for her to trust you?

Right in that moment, Wanda realized that she respected and trusted in you more than she wanted and far more than she was willing to admit. Despite the war, despite all the mystery surrounding the heists and facts that didn’t add up, she trusted that you wouldn’t hurt her, and your honor would never let her get hurt on your watch.

Was she crazy for believing in you? For trusting in her enemy?

The heat of the battle made impossible for her to dwell on it any longer. Two enemies came after her at the same time and she could feel your body moving behind her.

Grunts, screams of pain and metal clinking were the only sounds she could hear past her own heartbeat on her ear. Suddenly, she felt her body being shoved by a hand on her shoulder. The movement brought her chest downwards a little, but she was still on her feet.

When her eyes found the owner of the hand, she saw an arrow craved on the ground and she could tell that you had pushed her so the arrow would miss her chest.

She was flabbergasted with you. You had just saved her, and this was probably the nth time after this strange battle had begun. Not to mention how skilled you were keeping your awareness during the battle with so many enemies attacking from so many directions.

Despite the madness surrounding you, she took her time to find your eyes and they were dark, she couldn’t see the shine and mirth they usually held. The adrenaline of the fight had hooded your eyes in a way that it was almost unrecognizable, and this brought a new feeling to her heart. One that she didn’t have a name for, though she didn’t like it.

You nodded at her then resumed your set of strikes and kicks. Taking the hint, Wanda did the same. It was visible that there were far less black hooded men standing and she could only hope that her unit had survived this slaughter.

A second too late, Wanda realized an enemy striking from her right. All that she could do was to brace herself for the attack, though it never came.

Again, you had come into her rescue and the knight’s blade found yours instead of her shoulder. With your own shoulder you pushed the man far enough to make a slice movement with your weapon and seconds later the man was kneeing on the ground, lifeless.

Princess Maximoff was about to thank you for saving her life again when an arrow hit your shoulder and your face contorted with pain.

Stunned, she watched as you barely acknowledged the wound before raising a javelin from the ground with your feet, weighted it a little then threw the spear with incredible force. Her eyes tried, and failed, to track its trajectory but a second later she saw the archer falling with the piece of metal jammed into his heart.

Wanda could only blink at the speed of the last events, still it looked like she was watching it in slow motion. With a start, she realized that the fight was over and, though not far from her there were few men running away.

Death had claimed the valley as its stage.

Most of the bodies on the ground didn’t belong to their troops, gladly. But she could recognize the ones wearing crimson and silver or burgundy and gold laid to never get up again. Their bodies and souls would be part of this valley now and forever.

Raising her head, Wanda fought back the sadness trying to invade her eyes. She could and should mourn later, right now there was too much at stake and, more importantly, to process.

Only a few knew about this meeting and even fewer knew where said meeting would take place. For all that’s worth, this was a secret, yet a whole troop of bandits had ambushed them.

This wasn’t a random attack, Fury’s Valley wasn’t a common route of traders and with the ever-growing amount of snow, not even locals would use these roads. If anything, the number of attackers told her much. Common groups of bandits rarely strike with more than ten at a time, and they would never attack a Kingdom Unit. No matter their crest.

There was a traitor.

And she would find out who they were.

Wanda looked around and saw you gathering with your people, trying to help the wounded while looking for your fallen men.

The look on your face would haunt Wanda forever. The sadness was visible but the expression you held was utterly failure. You had failed your men. And Wanda had failed hers.

Then, as if life had swatted her feet from the ground, her eyes caught an image that she thought she would never be forced to see. Not far from where she was, she saw Steve’s broken form in a pool of blood laid on the cold ground.

Sir Barnes was kneeled by his side, mourning his friend and mentor and didn’t have in him the strength to look at Wanda. She understood. Her own heart was broken beyond repair.

Lord Steve Rogers, the Righteous, was like a big brother for her and Pietro. And after their father passed, Steve guided them through their grieves and taught them the most important lessons rulers should learn. As he was known, he always sought to do what was right, no matter how hard this could be.

Wanda could only cherish on those tutoring and hope that she was prepared to do the right thing. Even though she wasn’t quite sure what the right thing was anymore.

Soon, grieve was replaced in her heart by a raging fire that ignited her whole body. She hated the war, she hated that she was losing people so dear to her and there was nothing that she could do. Therefore, she embraced rage and used it as a new source of fuel.

“You!” Wanda shouted as she walked towards you, sword raised in a menace way. From the corner of her eye, she could see the reminiscing Taharrians with puzzled looks and others already preparing to protect their princess. “I hate you!”

Maria Rambeau tried to walk towards Wanda, but she was held back by you raising your hand. “This is your fault. Steve is dead because of you!” Her voice sounded broken even to her ears, but she didn’t care. She had gone to hell and back to care about how she should behave in front of subjects or in front of her enemy.

Though never really worried about how you were perceived, your patience had been gone an hour ago. You had lost good men, and there were others that could not make it through, however, Wanda Maximoff kept acting like an idiot that couldn’t see what was in front of her, clear as crystal.

“Care to enlighten me how?” You snarled at Wanda, taking the remaining steps until you stopped inches away from the tip of her blade. With your chest plate laying on the ground, to pierce your heart with her sword wouldn’t be a difficult task.

“I won’t take your sarcasms any longer!” The redhead shouted again, though her tone was a little lower than before. “Not in a time like this!” Wanda’s body shook with anger, so much so that her hand raising her sword betrayed her. And she hated it.

Against better judgment, Wanda pushed the tip of her sword into your chest. It wasn’t much, but the white tunic soon was stained with new red blood.

She was hectic and you were the face of the calmness, barely sparing a glance at the metal cutting your skin.

“It’s not sarcasm, it was a question.” Your eyes scanned hers and the Maximoff knew you were trying to understand her outburst, even though you were shattered by your own grief. “I was fighting by your side this whole time, at least four of my own people died protecting Lord Rogers, I just don’t understand your accusations, now.”

“Those man that ambushed us…” She forced her hand to push the sword a little harder, yet you didn’t complain, didn’t even flinch, sending Wanda’s nerves further in tatters. She wanted to fight her anger out, however you acted as if she wasn’t piercing you with her blade. “You hired them.”

“I’d say this is unbelievable, but you’re always too keen on making absurd assumptions, aren’t you?” You took one step towards Wanda, and she stepped back as reflex, otherwise she’d trespass her sword through your heart. “I’m tired of this nonsense. So, you either kill me right now, or you let me take care of my wounded.”

You held her eyes and Wanda felt the moment freeze before her. Though contorted with anger, your face still held beautiful features, try as she might, but Wanda couldn’t think straight with you looking at her the way you did. Try as she might, there wasn’t a single reason for you to hire mercenaries to attack them.

Although her head was a pure chaos, your eyes grounded her somehow. The purity, the certainty pouring from them crumbled her resolve and for a second, she regrated accusing you.

Lowering her sword, Wanda retreated without saying a word.

Princess Maximoff looked around but couldn’t find Romanoff anywhere. Panic started to climb up on her throat, this couldn’t be happening to her. If she loses another friend, if she loses Natasha, it’d be her fault, no one else’s.

“Dreykov!” Wanda shouted for her lieutenant, who, in turn, was shouting orders of preparing a campsite, separate the wounded for attendance and prepare the ones they lost for their burial.

“Yes, Your Highness.” Antonia Dreykov approached the nervous leader. The woman was limping, but other than that she looked fine.

“Have you seen Romanoff?” Wanda avoided adding ‘among the dead’ into her sentence. Her heart was still hoping her guardian would be alive.

“Last time I saw her, the Black Widow and Captain Danvers were chasing the men who just attacked us, Your Highness.” The woman pointed mildly in the direction she had last seen both woman run.

“Are you sure?” Wanda frowned, why would Romanoff go out of her way to chase mercenaries? Frustration plagued her heart and the princess felt too tired all of a sudden. The recent events took a toll on her, she needed to rest.

“I am, Your Highness.” Antonia nodded her head and seeing the tiredness dripping from her Commander, she offered. “There royal barracks are basically ready, Princess. Perhaps you could rest a little and I’ll send Romanoff your way as soon as she gets back?”

Maximoff looked around and saw people complying with Dreykov’s commands, she wouldn’t deny some alone time to process the recent events.

“Okay.” The redhead muttered and started to follow the lieutenant until they stopped in front of her tent. There were more guards than usual but after the ambush, it was only obvious the extra security.

Wanda shed her armor to the ground and washed her hands and face. After fetching herself a glass of wine to help ease her nerves, her feet dragged her to a makeshift sofa near a table on the corner of the improvised room.

She closed her eyes, as if the action could help her find the answers to all her questions. She was overwhelmed and didn’t know what to do or think.

Who had betrayed her? Was she wrong in accuse you? How could you be so brave even with a sword puncturing your skin? Why your somber face during the fight had bothered her?

So many questions, little to no answers.

Having let the guards aware that Romanoff and only her was allowed to disrupt her rest, Wanda wasn’t surprised when the Nat’s voice reached her ears. However, she was very relieved knowing the woman was safe and sound.

“Nat, by the gods, Antonia said you ran after the bandits.” Wanda hissed getting up to her feet.

“I did, Princess. Though Danvers and I didn’t have much luck.” Romanoff accepted the cup being offered by Wanda, her voice was rougher than usual, probably due the exertion of the fight and chase. “We only captured one, he’s in our custody.”

“And Taharr let him?” Wanda was impressed by their trust in letting them interrogate the man.

Could that mean that they were innocent indeed?

“Well, I captured him. Lady Danvers couldn’t argue against that. The others died during the fight. But considering that I only captured him because she had arrowed his thigh, I said I’d let them interrogate the man as well.”

The princess snorted at the stubbornness, an attribute accredited to Captain Lady Danvers and shared by you. Maybe all Taharrians were stubborn. Wanda, on the other hand, wasn’t one to fail with her word, and a word vowed by her unit was hers. She’d keep the deal made by Natasha.

“When will you?” The Maximoff girl felt her spirit renew, this man could give them some answers. Ones that she craved too much.

“If Your Highness agrees, I’d do it first thing in the morning.” The assassin brushed a sweated brand of her hair out of her eyes. “Tonight we’re lighting up the fire, right?”

Romanoff’s eyes were dark with grief. Lord Rogers had been by her side since she arrived at Wolfgang Castle. By then, she was perceived as a ruthless assassin, but he had seen the person underneath the title, he gave her what to fight for. A realm, a family.

And Sokovia had become her home, and the twins, though a little troublemakers, were like siblings to her. With time, people started to respect her, and Natasha developed friendship with a lot of people, many of whom had lost their lives earlier.

Therefore, her heart was grieving and begging for a revenge. She wouldn’t rest, she wouldn’t let whoever betrayed them rest, or live.

She’d learn the truth about this story, and she’d bring an end to it. Whatever it takes.

“I’ll find who tipped us off, Princess Wanda. No matter what.” She vowed to her Commander.

“Please. I want the culprit for Steve’s death.” Wanda acknowledged her protector’s words and gave her permission to do whatever she may need to uncover the truth about this whole ordeal. They were ambushed, they were a bit lost now, but that was about to change.

----

Sokovians believed that people were dust and to dust they shall return after death, therefore, the afterlife would be granted to them. Death represents part of one’s journey and their beliefs sought to respect said journey.

A huge bonfire was arranged in the middle of their battlefield would be lit by Wanda and the body of the fallen Sokovians would return to dust that night, so in the morning, their souls would be running free in the field of reeds.

Much to Wanda’s dismay, you had asked her to partake in Sokovian’s fire ceremony. The Maximoff knew that your people dealt with your deceased differently, however, here you were, not only respecting their beliefs, but also asking to add your dead soldiers into her fire.

Usually, when a person perishes in Taharr, a boat is prepared with flowers and as the boat floats with the current an ancient song of guidance is sung, after the dead is far into the waters, a member of their family shoots an arrow in flames to sink the boat consumed by fire.

Wanda always thought beautiful your culture and beliefs concerning the dead. It gave her an idea of cycle, something sacred, when everything, every energy comes from the water so after a cleanse through fire, the water shall take the strength of that person and return it to the nature.

She supposed that being so far from the seas or a river, you couldn’t give your dead the ritual as per custom, but your alternate idea still surprised her. And for that, Wanda realized just how much she respected you.

Though the solemnity last for hours, the night passed in a flash.

And with the first light in the morning, four woman strolled to where their prisoner was being held captive.

The man was afraid, fear was written all over his face as the famous assassin Natasha Romanoff, Lady Danvers, and the Princess of Sokovia and Taharr stopped right in front of him.

His eyes darted around and by your faces, he knew none of you were pleased with what happened. None of you would settle for little. His interrogation dragged for what felt like a whole day, but the Black Widow was convinced about everything he had said, eventually.

It wasn’t much. But now they’d had something to work with.

The prisoner didn’t know the name of who had hired them but showed a note with a stamp that belonged to a Hydrarr family, judging by the black and red patterns on the wax.

The note was everything they had but only read: ‘winter will be their demise’. Well, they had the note and the information that a man with northern accent hired them a moon ago.

Your head spun, trying and failing to understand what this would mean. Northern accent could mean Sokovians, Hydrarrians or even northern Asgardians that lived close to Hydrarr borders, where the accent would inevitably mix.

How many pieces does this puzzle have?

Part 7

taglist: @californianwhiterabbit

#wanda maximoff #princess wanda #wanda marvel #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x you #queens of promise #medieval au #wanda maximoff x fem! reader #wanda x you #wanda x reader #wanda x fem!reader #wanda x female reader #slow burn #enemies to lovers #game of thrones elements #wanda maximov

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choco-bloop · 2 years ago

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False sat in her tower, watching over the building right across from her. She wasn't there, no of course she wasn't. She was probably with all her other friends, building that giant tower right next to Pixlriff's bridge.

She hated it.

How could she just interact with everyone so casually, as if whatever happened between the two of them never happened. As if she had never wiped her memories clean in hopes of "protecting everyone else"

Now she knew why someone told her to be careful of that portal. She should have destroyed it while she still had the chance.

False sighed, there had to be something she could do to get her revenge without angering practically everyone else on the server.

Maybe a quick flight over to Hermitopia would do the trick.

There she was, crouched among the leaves, watching the different hermits interact with each other. She wasn't there from what she could tell. Good.

"Jev, how do you plan on getting someone to die to that?" an orange-haired lady exclaimed. She was talking to that Jevin guy that had came to the tavern a few days ago.

And was definitely not killed by her

“I honestly don’t know. Maybe a bargain like what False did to tag Ollie,” False winced at her name. However, she was more curious about the jester hat sitting on on Jevin’s head - what was the whole gig with it anyway? She had seen multiple of the other hermits and empires wear it so it was definitely not something exclusive to the hermits.

And what was it with getting someone else to die to something specific.

“What if you rerolled it without telling anyone? I mean the machine is right there,” the lady pointed to a machine with a sign saying “Tag”.

“Cleo!” ‘Cleo’ laughed. False guessed that the machine contained different ways for the hermits to kill the empires and vice versa. Maybe she could come back there and take a peak for any ideas should this trip not bore any.

False hoped off the branch she was settled on, landing herself on one of the many ledges on Hermitopia. She winced at the amount of Skulk that was surrounding her, someone was going to have to clean that up sooner or later.

"Grian, how much longer will it take before Grumbot is ready?" A voice from inside asked.

"Can't tell, maybe another week, maybe longer. And for all I know, this Grumbot might not even have the power to light up the rift," Another responded, who False assumed was the "Grian" the first voice was talking to.

"..." Silence, before the first voice spoke again, "I miss the other hermits. I know that while quite a lot of the hermits followed us to this world, there are still a few left back in our world and are probably worried over us,"

A giggle was heard before "Grian" spoke up, "Xisuma, I just realised something,"

"What? Don't tell me one of the empires is trying to tag me,"

"Why didn't we just ask Gem to go back to the server and tell the rest what happened?" False's fist clenched tightly. Even the princess of Dawn was related to her?

"We are such idiots," "Xisuma" laughed, "Well if Grumbot doesn't work we could always ask her to pass the message on to the rest of them,"

False leapt off the ledge, flying back to Cogsmeade, a plan forming in her head.

'It seems like these hermits are all close with one another,' she noted, looking at a board with the names of all the hermits who had entered through the rift. She had seen most of them, with the exception of only one unfamiliar face.

'And since I've already gotten Jevin,' She crossed out a picture of Jevin. 'I might as well pick them off one by one and add their heads to my display. That'll send a message to her that I remember everything she did to me,'

She had decided to leave out two more hermits from her revenge - BdoubleO100 and Pearlescentmoon (And Gem, if one were to consider her a hermit currently). She was not ready to face the wrath of multiple of the other empires for taking out Bdubs, who has apparently become a "sun god" of sorts for what she heard was Gem's new religion? And Pearl had been mentioned, time and time again, by Sausage to look like his "Santa Perla"; and False was not in the mood to get on Sausage's bad side by attacking Pearl.

Oh and Joe too, he helped her confirm her presence in the server. So sparing him from her soon-to-be murder spree was the least she could do for him.

That left her with nine more hermits to kill. And maybe her as a final act.

Nine

She pulled out her communicator, looking through the list of available targets.

She clicked on the name GoodTimeswithScar before sending him a message

> Hey, you are one of the hermits right?

Oooo yeah I remember you, you came over the other time didn't you? < GoodTimeswithScar

> I think so? Sorry I can't remember clearly.

>Anyway, I need help. Are you able to accompany me to the nether? I want to mine for some netherite. Your portal?

Sure thing! < GoodTimeswithScar

False closed her communicator, packing her amnesia potions alongside some wood and wool into her inventory before setting off to Hermitopia. She had checked before sending her last message - the other False still wasn't online, which meant she could move about safely. Mining netherite wasn't an excuse, she did want to upgrade her gear just in case someone pieced together her plan and tried to attack her.

Scar was an easy target. A single potion was all it took to incapacitate him before placing and exploding a bed in front of him.

GoodTimeswithScar was killed by [Intentional Game Design]

False picked up all his belongings before rushing back to his respawn point. Passing him all his items before flying off. All she had to do was to wait for the commotion to die down before going for the next hermit.

Eight

False heard the warden's growl resounding throughout the cave. She looked over to Keralis, who had stumbled and triggered the sensors for the fourth time. The warden crawled out of the ground, making it’s way towards the blinded Keralis.

She threw another potion at him, ensuring that the warden would go in his direction and he would be unable to escape

She laughed to herself as Keralis attempted to make his escape, knowing the warden was behind him, only to crash into a wall.

Keralis was obliterated by a sonically charged shriek.

Seven

She had asked for Tango’s help in fighting a wither. She knew the other hermits had also begun to do so, which was a good cover.

Of course this time around she had to be careful to time his death properly otherwise she too might fall victim to the wither.

TangoTek was shot by a skull from wither

False finished off the wither before pocketing his dropped head, returning him all his gear when he moments later.

While he’d still know that he was fighting the wither with someone, False wondered if he’d remember with who later on.

Six

False ignited another rocket, propelling herself forward, weaving in and out of the hills with their tall trees. She looked behind at Grian, who was struggling to catch up.

Turning her head back so that she didn’t end up crashing herself, a cruel grin formed on her face - she had managed to slip in her potion into some soup that she had passed Grian earlier and its effects were finally kicking in.

One more rocket to make a sharp turn around a mountain did it for him.

Grian experienced kinetic energy

Five

"False! Behind you!" She didn't need an amnesia potion with Impulse, he had willingly jumped in to save her- getting blown up in the process.

ImpulseSV was blown up by a creeper

He came bounding back quickly, picking up all his items. At least he would be able to serve as an outlier if someone tried to investigate the recent surge in hermit deaths… that was not related to the weird jester hat.

Four

False was glad that Cub had (somehow) died in the nether. He would more likely go back with fewer and less important items, which would lower the chances of any of them burning and causing a few problems for her.

She snuck over to where he was, slowly bridging his way over a giant lava lake. False spied a small island along the path he was taking, she could break the blocks under him and he'd fall to his death and he would be none the wiser on that she was there.

Potion in one hand and pickaxe in the other, she moved quickly; not giving him a chance to turn around and see her.

Cubfan135 fell from a high place

Three

False watched as Cleo dived into the water, unbeknown to the danger she was putting herself in. She felt for the obsidian in her pocket, worried that Cleo would be able to just swim her way to the surface to breathe again.

She watched as the last bubbles escaped from Cleo's mouth before her body disappeared.

ZombieCleo drowned

Well it definitely wasn't needed.

Two

She carefully led Doc into the cave that she had explored beforehand - having removed all torches and taken extra care to not mine any of the ores to make the cave seemed as unexplored as possible.

The sole torch's glow hid the gravel watching the duo from above, waiting for someone to break one block and cause the rest to come cascading down.

False pretended to mine some nearby iron, making sure Doc was placed under the gravel. A potion and a swipe of her shovel and the gravel came down, taking Doc with it.

Docm77 suffocated in a wall

One

False looked at Xisuma, his face barely visible through the helmet. She felt for the potions in her pockets, ready to throw them if he got any closer.

"Are you behind the recent string of deaths?" He asked, clear that he was upset at whoever was targeting the hermits.

"Why do you think so?"

"I wouldn't normally investigate these kinds of incidents but Cleo drowning? Doc to suffocation? Those rarely happen, especially given the gear they have," Xisuma continued.

"And you believe that I am the culprit behind all of this? Do explain,"

"Most of the hermits when they respawn seem to have no clue that they even died, with the exception of Impulse , which makes it seem like they are suffering from temporary amnesia. You are the only person I know on the server who has any experience dealing with amnesia,”

“What about Impulse? He’s an outlier in this situation right?” She countered, careful not to over show any emotions.

“When he respawned, he kept apologising to you about it,”

False flinched slightly; Xisuma knew what she had done. But she wasn’t going to let such a free information pool go to waste. “So, who told you that I had amnesia?"

Xisuma paused for a moment, as if he was thinking of his next words carefully, "False did. The other False did. She told me everything about you,"

"Really? If your precious 'False' had told you everything about me," She smirked, reaching into her pockets for her amnesia potion, "she would've told you what she did and what I can do," False threw her potion towards Xisuma, hitting him right in the chest.

Xisuma tried to counter with a sword but the potion's effects kicked right in, causing him to stumble.

False brought out her sword, easily overpowering him. A slash to the arm and one on his stomach before she went for the killing blow, plunging her blade through his body.

Xisuma was slain by Falsesymmetry_

She picked up the rest of his items, putting his head into her enderchest right as she got a message on her communicator.

Why did you kill Xisuma? < Grian

> Sorry, I was testing out my new sword. Needed to make sure it's strong enough if ever choose to fight the wither or anything.

> Didn't realise it would cause a ton of panic

Ohhhh ok, just checking cuz Xisuma looked kinda stressed earlier. Or maybe it's the homesickness again < Grian

False kept the last part in mind - maybe she could trap her here and close the portal to truly make her suffer.

She studied the new contents of her enderchest, her mouth morphing into a twisted grin.

She was going to pay for everything she has done to her.

If for some reason you want the link, here it is: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43373812

IG you can say this is somewhat related to the art post b4 this. But I do plan on making an animatic for this fic. Maybe in a week or so depending.

#falsesymmetry #empires false #empires season 2 #hc x empires #hermitcraft x empires #E!False being murderous #e!false #revenge at its finest #I don't know whats more revenge than targeting (found) family #aside from yk #killing the person themselves #fanfiction

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mourninglorys · 2 years ago

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tag drop iii.

#inazuma ⠀no ⠀hime ⠀ ⠀‎֯ ‏֯ ⠀ ⠀kato ⠀izumi.#princess ⠀dandelion ⠀ ⠀ ⠀‎֯ ‏֯ ⠀ ⠀lorelei.#our ⠀lady ⠀of ⠀the ⠀dawn ⠀ ⠀ ⠀‎֯ ‏֯ ⠀ ⠀princess ⠀signe.#the ⠀starlight ⠀saint ⠀ ⠀ ⠀‎֯ ‏֯ ⠀ ⠀sofiya ⠀morozova.#world—creator ⠀﹔ ⠀world—destroyer ⠀ ⠀ ⠀‎֯ ‏֯ ⠀ ⠀ymir ⠀lokisdóttir.#lady ⠀lethe⠀ ⠀ ⠀‎֯ ‏֯ ⠀ ⠀nanamine ⠀kiyoko.#dressed ⠀in ⠀blood ⠀ ⠀ ⠀‎֯ ‏֯ ⠀ ⠀carrie ⠀white.#goddess ⠀of ⠀the ⠀moon ⠀ ⠀ ⠀‎֯ ‏֯ ⠀ ⠀yue.

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rainhadaenerys · 3 years ago

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Daenerys embodying hope

For Daenerys Targaryen Appreciation Month 2021

Day 26: Hope and Kindness

In ASOIAF, Daenerys embodies hope for plenty of people:

We should have twenty trebuchets, not two, and they should be mounted on sledges and turntables so we could move them. It was a futile thought. He might as well wish for another thousand men, and maybe a dragon or three. - Jon VIII ASOS

On Braavos, it had seemed possible that Aemon might recover. Xhondo's talk of dragons had almost seemed to restore the old man to himself. That night he ate every bite Sam put before him. "No one ever looked for a girl," he said. "It was a prince that was promised, not a princess. Rhaegar, I thought . . . the smoke was from the fire that devoured Summerhall on the day of his birth, the salt from the tears shed for those who died. He shared my belief when he was young, but later he became persuaded that it was his own son who fulfilled the prophecy, for a comet had been seen above King's Landing on the night Aegon was conceived, and Rhaegar was certain the bleeding star had to be a comet. What fools we were, who thought ourselves so wise! The error crept in from the translation. Dragons are neither male nor female, Barth saw the truth of that, but now one and now the other, as changeable as flame. The language misled us all for a thousand years. Daenerys is the one, born amidst salt and smoke. The dragons prove it." Just talking of her seemed to make him stronger. "I must go to her. I must. Would that I was even ten years younger."

[...]

"No," the old man said. "It must be you. Tell them. The prophecy . . . my brother's dream . . . Lady Melisandre has misread the signs. Stannis . . . Stannis has some of the dragon blood in him, yes. His brothers did as well. Rhaelle, Egg's little girl, she was how they came by it . . . their father's mother . . . she used to call me Uncle Maester when she was a little girl. I remembered that, so I allowed myself to hope . . . perhaps I wanted to . . . we all deceive ourselves, when we want to believe. Melisandre most of all, I think. The sword is wrong, she has to know that . . . light without heat . . . an empty glamor . . . the sword is wrong, and the false light can only lead us deeper into darkness, Sam. Daenerys is our hope. Tell them that, at the Citadel. Make them listen. They must send her a maester. Daenerys must be counseled, taught, protected. For all these years I've lingered, waiting, watching, and now that the day has dawned I am too old. I am dying, Sam." Tears ran from his blind white eyes at that admission. - Samwell IV AFFC

"Daenerys is the only hope," he concluded. "Aemon said the Citadel must send her a maester at once, to bring her home to Westeros before it is too late."

[...]

"Maester Aemon believed that Daenerys Targaryen was the fulfillment of a prophecy . . . her, not Stannis, nor Prince Rhaegar, nor the princeling whose head was dashed against the wall." - Samwell V AFFC

Illyrio brushed away the objection as if it were a fly. "Black or red, a dragon is still a dragon. When Maelys the Monstrous died upon the Stepstones, it was the end of the male line of House Blackfyre." The cheesemonger smiled through his forked beard. "And Daenerys will give the exiles what Bittersteel and the Blackfyres never could. She will take them home." - Tyrion II ADWD

Safe. The word made Dany's eyes fill up with tears. "I want to keep you safe." Missandei was only a child. With her, she felt as if she could be a child too. "No one ever kept me safe when I was little. Well, Ser Willem did, but then he died, and Viserys … I want to protect you but … it is so hard. To be strong. I don't always know what I should do. I must know, though. I am all they have. I am the queen … the … the …"

"… mother," whispered Missandei.

"Mother to dragons." Dany shivered.

"No. Mother to us all." Missandei hugged her tighter. - Daenerys II ADWD

Ser Barristan went to one knee before her. "My queen, your realm has need of you. You are not wanted here, but in Westeros men will flock to your banners by the thousands, great lords and noble knights. 'She is come,' they will shout to one another, in glad voices. 'Prince Rhaegar's sister has come home at last.' " - Daenerys III ADWD

Haldon nodded. "Benerro has sent forth the word from Volantis. Her coming is the fulfillment of an ancient prophecy. From smoke and salt was she born to make the world anew. She is Azor Ahai returned … and her triumph over darkness will bring a summer that will never end … death itself will bend its knee, and all those who die fighting in her cause shall be reborn …" - Tyrion VI ADWD

"We need swift passage to Meereen."

One word. Tyrion Lannister's world turned upside down.

One word. Meereen. Or had he misheard?

One word. Meereen, he said Meereen, he's taking me to Meereen. Meereen meant life. Or hope for life, at least. - Tyrion VII ADWD

"I am no lady," the widow replied, "just Vogarro's whore. You want to be gone from here before the tigers come. Should you reach your queen, give her a message from the slaves of Old Volantis." She touched the faded scar upon her wrinkled cheek, where her tears had been cut away. "Tell her we are waiting. Tell her to come soon." - Tyrion VII ADWD

"She may be," Gerris said, "but she's not. We've heard such talk before. The Astapori were convinced Daenerys was coming south with her dragons to break the siege. She didn't come then, and she's not coming now." - The Windblown ADWD

Penny did not return the smile. "By myself, all I can do is ride around in circles. And even if the queen should laugh, where will I go afterward? We never stay in one place long. The first time they see us they laugh and laugh, but by the fourth or fifth time, they know what we're going to do before we do it. Then they stop laughing, so we have to go somewhere new. We make the most coin in the big cities, but I always liked the little towns the best. Places like that, the people have no silver, but they feed us at their own tables, and the children follow us everywhere."

That's because they have never seen a dwarf before, in their wretched pisspot towns, Tyrion thought. The bloody brats would follow around a two-headed goat if one turned up. Until they got bored with its bleating and slaughtered it for supper. But he had no wish to make her weep again, so instead he said, "Daenerys has a kind heart and a generous nature." It was what she needed to hear. "She will find a place for you at her court, I don't doubt. A safe place, beyond my sister's reach." - Tyrion VIII ADWD

Tyrion gazed across the Yunkish camp to the walls of Meereen. Those gates looked so close … and if the talk in the slave pens could be believed, Meereen remained a free city for the nonce. Within those crumbling walls, slavery and the slave trade were still forbidden. All he had to do was reach those gates and pass beyond, and he would be a free man again. - Tyrion X ADWD

Other slaves insisted that the guards were lying, that Daenerys Targaryen would never make peace with slavers. Mhysa, they called her. Someone told him that meant Mother. Soon the silver queen would come forth from her city, smash the Yunkai'i, and break their chains, they whispered to one another. - Tyrion X ADWD

A quarter mile on, he found good reason to reconsider. A crowd had formed around three slaves taken whilst trying to escape. "I know my little treasures will be sweet and obedient," Nurse said. "See what befalls ones who try to run."

[...]

To the east the massive brick walls of Meereen shimmered through the morning heat. That was the refuge these poor fools had hoped to reach. How long will it remain a refuge, though? - Tyrion X ADWD

Ser Barristan knew no more of dragons than the tales every child hears, but he knew Targaryens. Daenerys had been riding that dragon, as Aegon had once ridden Balerion of old.

"She might be flying home," he told himself, aloud.

"No," murmured a soft voice behind him. "She would not do that, ser. She would not go home without us." - The Queensguard ADWD

Perhaps, thought Arianne, or perhaps Daenerys realized that once her brother was crowned and wed to me, she would be doomed to spend the rest of her life sleeping in a tent and smelling like a horse. "She is the Mad King's daughter," the princess said. "How do we do know -- "

"We cannot know," Ser Daemon said. "We can only hope." - Arianne I TWOW

Ser Barristan Selmy rode past them slowly. The old knight wore the armor his queen had given him—a suit of white enameled steel, inlaid and chased with gold. The cloak that streamed from his shoulders was as white as winter snow, as was the shield slung from his saddle. Beneath him was the queen's own mount, the silver mare Khal Drogo had given her upon their wedding day. That was presumptuous, he knew, but if Daenerys herself could not be with them in their hour of peril, Ser Barristan hoped the sight of her silver in the fray might give heart to her warriors, reminding them of who and what they fought for. - Barristan I TWOW

#danymonth2021 #daenerys targaryen #asoiaf #valyrianscrolls #asoiaf meta #i know some like the golden company one are debatable but i'm including it for the sake of completion #my meta

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ichigo-daifuku · 4 years ago

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See No Evil, Hear No Evil, Speak No Evil [3]

Fandom: Shall We Date?: Obey Me! Pairing: Diavolo/F!Reader Genre: Soulmate AU, Fake Relationship (?), Misunderstandings, Fluff, Angst, Smut

Synopsis: During a confrontation between Diavolo and a certain witch who harbors unrequited feelings for him, he declares his intention to ask you to stand beside him in reigning over the Devildom someday. You conclude only one logical explanation for the insanity he uttered: this is his way of discouraging the witch from being so persistent. Although clueless, you play along and become ‘lovers’ with him.

Inevitably, your existing attraction for Diavolo grows, but the distinction between truth and lies, the crisscrossed lines of the right and the wrong, and the question of what’s real and what isn’t, begin to plague your mind and stir up trouble for your relationship with him with each passing day.

Entangled within the woven threads of soulmates and a royal prophecy, this is the story of the Demon Prince and his future Queen: you.

1 | 2 | 3 Chapter 3: Speak No Evil Word Count: 5.6k

“Welcome, my lady.”

The staff at the Demon Lord’s Castle greeted you with dutiful bows. If they were surprised at the punctuality of your arrival, they showed no signs of it and ushered you inside. As per your previous visits, they were all cordial. Most of them even looked excited, and you felt a pang of guilt for deceiving them all this time.

Originally, the demon brothers had planned for your grand arrival with all seven of them escorting you to the ballroom. Due to your change of plans, however, you made excuses and admitted you had matters to discuss with Diavolo before the celebratory ball, intentionally leaving out any specifics. You persuaded them by divulging your plan of handing Diavolo the baked goods you prepared as a gift. In the end, the demon brothers reluctantly relented. You patted yourself on the back for remaining firm despite your gratitude for the Seven Rulers of Hell. It was a difficult feat to accomplish.

The day after your conversation with Solomon, you headed to town and purchased an outfit for the celebratory ball on your own rather than using those hanging on the racks of the prophesied Queen’s closet at the Demon Lord’s Castle. It was the first step in your departure from your role as the faux Queen. While browsing at one of your favorite boutiques, you found a red embroidered evening gown that completely covered your back and was zipped from the side. It was simpler than any of the formalwear in the Queen’s closet, but it wasn’t as if you would be at the party to impress anyone nor enjoy yourself.

It would be the last time you would pretend to be Diavolo’s other half. After this event, everything would be over.

A bittersweet feeling flooded your chest, but when you looked back at the moments you shared with Diavolo, you were unable to deny the truth to yourself: you’d do it all again if you could.

Your high heels click-clacked on the polished floor as you approached Diavolo’s study. Before anything else, you peeked inside and only entered the room once you found it empty. You shut the door and went over to his desk. The kisses you shared with him the other day were still fresh in your mind. In a span of a few days, your circumstances with him had completely changed. It was strange to stand in the same place with that realization gnawing at your gut.

Gingerly, you set the pastry box on Diavolo’s table, pulled a sticky note from his tall stack, and wrote a short thank you note for him. A small sense of finality washed over you as you signed your name and placed it on the box. It was cowardly of you to give him your gift like this, but once you’d told him you’d end this charade with him, he might decline it. You were already hurting, and as much as possible, you wanted to lessen the impact of his rejection.

After leaving his study and roaming around the castle, Diavolo remained nowhere in sight. You took a wild guess and went to the gazebo, a tinge of dread in your steps when you found out you were right. As tall and regal as he was during the first time you saw him, he stood and gazed at the lake, its tranquility one with its beholder.

“Diavolo,” you called.

“Hello there.” He turned his head to look at you, his lips breaking into a smile. “You’re beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you replied and moved forward, taking in the sight of him in formalwear. “You look great, as always.”

“You flatter me.”

“It’s the truth.” Once you reached the gazebo, you stayed at the threshold, ready to leave once you had said what you needed to tell him. “By the way, I left something for you in your study.”

“A gift?”

“That’s right. Some pastries. I baked them myself.”

“Let’s eat them together later. We can have our own after-party.”

“No, I made them for you. And we’ll get full at the banquet, won’t we?”

“There’s always room for dessert.” He laughed at his own quip and gestured over the lake. “Why don’t you stand beside me? The view is quite splendid.”

“It’s fine. I can admire it from afar.” Unwavering, you remained rooted at your spot. The lake was majestic, but it wasn’t what you were here for tonight. You hid your shaky hands behind your back and fiddled with your fingers, taking a deep breath as you returned your complete attention to Diavolo. “I have something to tell you. It’s important.”

“You can tell me anything, my princess.”

“I’m sorry, Diavolo,” you said, “but let’s end this.”

A long pause passed before he clarified with uncertainty, “The party?”

“Not that. I meant this—whatever’s between us—let’s end it.”

“What? Why? Have I done something to displease you?” Diavolo interrogated, his entire demeanor shifting into a panicked one. He stepped closer to you, but you retreated and exited the gazebo entirely. It dawned on him: his pursuit would cause you to fall further back. A grim expression on his face, he came to a halt and demanded, “Tell me.”

“No, Diavolo. Far from it,” you confessed with a sad smile. “You’re the Prince of the Devildom, and you’re the most wonderful man I’ve ever met.”

“If so, then what’s the problem?”

“I’m in love with you.”

“And?”

And? That’s all he has to say? you thought bitterly, hurt your confession warranted such a lackluster reaction. “I can’t keep doing this when there’s someone else meant to be by your side.”

Diavolo stiffened. “Someone… else…?”

“Yes. I can’t pretend to be the Queen in the prophecy anymore. I love you. A lot. And it’s hurting me, so please, let’s end this.”

Instead of replying, Diavolo kept quiet.

Unable to take his silence any longer, you averted your gaze and proceeded to wrap up the conversation. “I’ve said what I wanted to say. I’ll attend the party. You’re free to clarify this tonight or I can pretend to be your Queen one last time, whichever works for you. But please make sure to clear up the misunderstanding in the future.”

“You’re under the impression,” he paused and let out a laugh in an icy tone you’d never heard from him before, “that we’re pretending to be together?”

Chills ran down your spine. The question he uttered made you more nervous than you ever were tonight. Diavolo’s deep voice dripped with realization, incredulity, but most of all, rage.

You were in trouble.

“You’re right. There’s been a misunderstanding.” He let out a menacing laugh and strode in your direction. Instinctively, you attempted to put space between the two of you, but he grabbed your wrist and pulled you close to him, wrapping both of his arms around your waist so quickly you didn’t have the chance to step away and flee. “All the times you said you were happy, whenever you told me you were looking forward to seeing me, when you agreed we looked like a great couple, you weren’t lying.”

“I wasn’t,” you acknowledged, your tense body gradually going lax at his touch. The familiar scent of his cologne made your mind hazy as you breathed in. “I’ve been in love with you for a while now. I might have pretended to be your lover, but I’ve been true to you. That’s why we have to end this.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No.” Diavolo bent his head and whispered in your ear, “I never lie, did you know?”

You didn’t.

His words prompted your head to swirl with scenes of your interactions, one of them standing out among the rest.

“So, that day… when Maddi confronted us about the prophecy,” you paused, your eyes wide as you tilted your head to meet his gaze, “y-you meant every word you said?”

“Yes, you’re the one for me. The only one,” he declared, embracing you tighter. “Shall I prove it to you?”

Once the question left his lips, Diavolo’s eyes glowed, and the next thing you knew, the sights around you shifted from the gazebo to the Queen’s closet. He refused to let you go, and you were faintly aware you were in the corner of the room as your hips nudged the wooden edge of the grand vanity table. Fortunately, the surface was vacant since all the cosmetics remained in the drawers, or else they would have already toppled on the floor.

Diavolo asked, “Do you know what’s on your back?”

“How did you—”

“I saw. When we had breakfast together, during that day when you agreed to pretendto be my lover.” His fingers brushed the nape of your neck and slid down to your spine, his large palm resting over your back. “Do you know what’s written here?”

“My soulmark.”

“It’s more special than that.”

“How come?”

“Have you seen it?”

You shook your head. “I’ve never dared to. I don’t like it... and I’m… scared of it.”

“Do you like me?”

“I love you.”

“Are you scared of me?”

“No.”

“If that’s the case, there’s no need for you to dislike or be scared of your mark.”

As he had revealed to you moments ago, Diavolo never lied. You trusted him. If he was certain he was your soulmate, you had nothing to fear. “Okay, but I have to remove my dress, so if you will, the door is that way.”

Diavolo released you with a quiet laugh. A familiar mischievous smile played on his lips, he shook his head. Determinedly, he reasoned, “I can’t afford any more misunderstandings with you.”

Instead of leaving, he moved and settled down a few steps within your reach. He gave you free rein over the space in front of the mirror and crossed his arms, waiting.

Conceding, you sighed and shook your head in exasperation. There was no way you could convince him to leave. You raised your fingers to pull the zipper from your side, but the eyes trained on you were too intense, you almost turned—if not for the fact you’d still see him admiring your actions from the mirror which, strangely, felt more intimate. Averting your gaze, you stripped out of your evening gown. You thought of making your way to the chaise and laying down your outfit on it, but your hands felt too shaky, and your feet felt too cold. The crimson cloth slipped away from your fingers and pooled on the floor.

Donned only in your lingerie, you were exposed, and your back was ready for your revelation. Fear threatened you to put an end to this mess through flight, but your trust and affection for the man standing in front of you led you to fight this fear and face it head-on.

And then, on your own volition, you finally looked at what was imprinted on your back: the soulmark you once resented but now gave you hope and promise.

Once you saw it, you felt grateful for your unknowingly wise decision of hiding it from everyone who asked about it in the human world.

“No way…” you murmured, unable to tear your gaze from your back’s reflection.

Three numbers were written vertically over your spine:

6 6 6

Diavolo approached you, his arm moving past your waist and resting on the table. He tilted his head to the side, and like you, openly gazed at your soulmark’s reflection in the mirror. His fingertip traced over the numbers, one after another, earning a soft gasp from you. “You know what this means, yes?”

You did.

The Devil’s Number.

Devil.

Diavolo.

Speechless, you turned your face and stared at him, tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

“Do you honestly believe I could be this good at pretending to be in love with you?” Diavolo questioned and gave you a kiss on your forehead. “You think too highly of me.”

“Do you really… love me?” you whispered.

“Listen well, my princess,” Diavolo embraced you and stroked your hair. “I love you.”

Tears streamed down your cheeks, dampening his suit, but neither of you cared. “The prophecy…”

“It’s about you.”

“So, all this time…”

He sighed and grimaced. “Yes.”

“Are you still mad at me?”

“I am,” he said, releasing you to wipe your tears with his thumbs. “Don’t think I’m letting you get away with it.”

Diavolo cradled your cheeks and bent his head to kiss you. After you decided to break things off with him, you had accepted you’d never be as close to him as you were before, but here you were. Eyes closed, you basked in his affection, which you now know was true and meant only for you. Despite the anger he admitted to, the sensation of his lips on yours was warm and forgiving. When you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulled him closer, and deepened your kisses, the soft sigh that escaped his lips was all you needed to know he was relieved. It put him at ease that you loved him and weren’t going to leave him. It was a sentiment that mirrored yours.

Breathless, he leaned back and met your heated gaze. The crackling tension between the two of you grew from powerful to electrifying, a telltale sign of a singular ending to this encounter. It was a resolution you never dared to consider when you entered this castle tonight, but it was one you had no complaints about. He needed this—needed you—and you’d be damned if you were going to let this end like it did last time.

“Will you indulge me?” His fingers grazed your mark once more as he took the clasp of your bra between them and unhooked it in one go. “Rather, would you indulge in me, my princess?”

“Here? Now? The celebratory ball is going to start soon,” you teased, tugging his bow tie with your index finger and unfastening it.

“Our unfinished business is more important,” Diavolo reminded you, his suit jacket falling on top of your dress. You unbuttoned his shirt and brushed your lips on his collarbone, the tip of your tongue teasing his exposed skin. He sighed and continued, “You have no idea what you do to me. I’ve wanted you for so long, but it seems my feelings didn’t come across properly. I’ll make it so you’ll never have any doubts about us ever again.”

Diavolo guided you to sit on the dresser and began kissing your neck, freshening the faded lovebites he had made and adding more as he caressed your breasts with his palms and dragged his thumbs over your hardening buds. His ministrations were languid and tender, but every contact with his mouth and fingers left you squirming, eager for him to quicken his pace and pay attention to where you needed him the most.

“When you first arrived here, I just knew… I have to have you all to myself,” he confessed.

As his lips reached your abdomen, Diavolo went down on one knee. To you, he looked like a knight receiving an accolade from his monarch; as if the vanity table was your throne, and he was promising himself to you. Perhaps, it would be more appropriate to liken him to the prince who had finally found his elusive Cinderella. But perhaps not—as unlike that prince, he was removing your high heels and setting them aside. Desire and reverence filled his eyes as he tilted his head and stared at your bare form, your chest rising and falling in anticipation.

“Now, everyone’s going to know you're mine,” he vowed, hooking your panties at the side and sliding them down your legs, “including you.”

Your mouth parted in a soundless groan as Diavolo kissed the inside of your knees.

“What do you say, my princess?”

Anticipation pooled at the pit of your stomach. A slow, coquettish smile made its way on your lips. Above all else, you wanted him to know you were eager for this as much as he was—that you desired him as much as he desired you. You raised your legs and beckoned him closer by spreading them and letting your calves and feet rest over his wide shoulders. “Show me.”

He smirked, pleased with your answer. Wordlessly, he kissed and nipped at the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs. Tilting his head lower, his warm breath ghosted over the apex of your legs, his lips hovering over your sex. The first swipe of his tongue was gentle. He let you familiarize yourself with the sensation before he licked you where it was the most pleasurable. When he did, the sharp inhale you took didn’t escape his notice. He knew what he was doing, flicking his tongue and sucking at that little bundle of nerves with the right amount of pressure, in the way you never knew you wanted it. His index and middle finger over the sides of your entrance, his tongue plunged inside you. It triggered a sudden movement of your hips, but he held you in place and steadied you with his other hand, his ministrations never faltering, coaxing a diminutive moan out of your lips.

“You hear that?” he murmured, pertaining to the sound the shallow thrust of his middle finger made. Those three words sent a pleasurable wave from his lips to your groin, making you curl your toes and your back arch against the mirror. “We’ve only just begun, and you’re already so wet for me.”

“Stop teasing me so much,” you whined. You reached out to brush his hair and thread your fingers between its strands, but at the quickening pace of his hand, you ended up tugging at his locks instead.

“It’s because you’re holding back,” Diavolo pointed out with a soft chuckle. He peered at your face and waited for your reaction as he added a second—and soon, a third—finger into the mix. “Let me hear you. I know you can be louder than that.”

Even if you wanted to subdue the gratified noises threatening to fill the room, you were helpless against his earnest pursuit of your peak. He pumped his fingers in and out of you over and over, making you cry out as you reveled in the sensation of your release. At a rhythmless pace, your hips shifted against his face once more, only this time he let you ride out and enjoy the most out of your climax.

Diavolo might be all refined, dignified, and gentlemanly, but now that you had brought out the lascivious side of him—the raw and sinful part of him he kept in the dark to many—he was relentless. He straightened his body and licked his damp lips, savoring your taste. It was a look that told you that there was more to come—that he had more to give.

Eyes bleary, you were faintly aware of it as Diavolo stood. You did likewise, albeit unsteadily, and allowed him to turn your body around. With a light press of his palm over your back, he inclined you downward. Your fingers grasped the edge of the table, and the vision of your flushed state connected with your eyes in the glass. Above your likeness, Diavolo’s reflection smirked at you. Then and there, your earlier thoughts about him admiring you from the mirror were proven correct: everything about this was intimate, enthralling, and insanely sensual.

Diavolo pressed his lips on the numbers on your spine, and your legs wobbled as you shivered. He held you by the waist, his torso perfectly fitting over your back as his other hand worked on his trousers and guided himself near your fluttering entrance, the tip touching you but not entering. His lips tickled your ear, and he dragged them across the lobe and tugged at it. With a soft but demanding voice, he urged you, “Say it.”

Still in a daze from your climax but covetous of another, you were ready to do whatever he wanted you to do. “Say what?”

“Say you’re mine.” He nudged his length between your sensitive folds. He felt so good, and you knew he was going to feel even better once he was inside you.

“I’m yours,” you vowed, shifting your lower half to sheathe him. “I’m yours—only yours! Now, please Diavolo!”

He was delivering what he had promised earlier, showing you how you were his. At the same time, you wanted him to show you he was yours, too. Yearning to be connected to him in some way, you turned your head to meet his lips with your own. Instead of replying with words, he slipped his tongue past your mouth and kissed you deeper. He gripped your hips and eased himself inside your core.

Startled, you pulled your lips away and faced forward with a soft gasp. Although you had an idea of his size and girth from your foreplay, he still felt more than you expected. He was only halfway in, and yet, you were already biting your lower lip to suppress a pleasured scream from coming out of you.

His pace was tantalizingly unhurried. Again and again, he drew back and thrust inside you—only to stop midway.

It was frustrating. You were capable of taking all of him, and you knew it.

“Harder,” you pleaded, “Do it harder… Please!”

With a kiss on your shoulder, he chuckled and replied, “As you wish, my princess.”

He gave you what you asked for and eased himself fully inside you. Once you accommodated his length, your eyes fluttered closed reflexively. Yes, this was it. This was exactly what you needed. Your breath hitched as he slowly drew back until his tip remained in your entrance, and in a second, he plunged inside you again. “Y-Yes, just like… like that.”

Diavolo groaned, increasing his pace. His fingers dug at your hips, and the erotic sound of skin slapping filled your ears. He leaned back and let out a low hum of appreciation as you took every inch of him perfectly. His voice strained and lacking its usual composure, he remarked, “Feels even better than I imagined.”

Well, damn.

The image of him touching himself to the thought of you was enough to make you shudder with arousal, but the pleasure of having him, in reality, was beyond any vision your mind could conjure up. You clenched around him, coaxing a grunt and a loud moan from his parted lips. He gritted his teeth and tightly shut his eyes, the rhythm he had set gradually turning rougher.

“Fuck!” you moaned, “Diavolo, I… I-I’m gonna—”

He sensed it. His pace refused to falter, and you reached your climax within seconds. You witnessed how much of a mess you turned to in the mirror, but you couldn’t care less. It was Diavolo who made you this way, after all. Your arms and legs gave out as you shuddered, but he readily caught you before you could fall to the ground.

Diavolo unsheathed himself from you and returned you to your seated position. He kissed your hair and shifted his lips near your ear. “More?”

“Y-Yes.”

Gently, he held one of your legs up and propped your ankle on his shoulder. His other hand clamped over your bent knee. He entered your slick heat, and this time, you were able to accommodate him at once.

“You’re taking me so well,” he praised, his golden eyes following the movement as he thrust in and out of you. “Good girl.”

For the third time tonight, he drove you over the edge, but your earlier climax caused your current race to the peak to be agonizing. You feel it dangling over you, but at the same time, it was out of your reach. Distressed, you exclaimed, “I can’t!”

“You can,” he countered, giving it to you harder, “and you will.”

The fervor in his promise remained inexorable, and the tremor in his voice hinted at his impending climax.

You grabbed his wrist and shifted your leg downward, determined. He realized what you were trying to do as you held your arms up and wrapped your legs around his hips. Chuckling, he lifted you up with ease and held you in his arms firmly. You threaded your fingers through his hair and kissed him. He gripped your thighs and slid you up and down his length, returning to the rough momentum you had moments ago in sought of the heat the both of you had built up.

Little by little, his pace turned uneven. His breathing was labored and warm against your skin.

“I want to see you come,” you told him. The familiar coil in your abdomen unfurling, your voice grew louder as you cried out, “Fill me up, Diavolo. You’re mine.”

As soon as you said those words, euphoria washed over every fiber of your being. This was the highest you’d ever felt, and you were certain no feeling could compare to this. No other being could compare to him. Diavolo was the only one for you.

In a split second, his jaw slackened and his eyes closed, groaning unabashedly and calling out your name. He continued thrusting inside you, never sliding out he chased his own peak. Trembling, he throbbed and filled you up as you asked, the warm and wet liquid dribbling down the inside of your thighs with his final thrust.

Panting, the two of you remained still as you came down from your respective highs.

It was you who broke the silence a few moments later. “I love you.”

He smiled and stroked your hair. “I love you too, my princess.”

The tender moment was shattered by the sudden increase of temperature on your back. Pain derived from your soulmark and spread over to your shoulders and hips. It rapidly grew hotter until it was sweltering. Your whole body felt as if it was on fire. You couldn’t take it any longer.

“Diavolo!” you cried, “My back—it’s burning!”

The touch of his bare skin was comforting, and somehow, his presence alleviated the agony. However, the invisible fire grew more intense. You could do nothing but let out a scream on his shoulder and cling to him.

Diavolo hooked one of his arms under your knees and carried you to the connecting bathroom. He placed you in the bathtub and made sure your head rested on the area gently. As the cold water rose and filled the tub, he caressed your forearm and held your hand reassuringly.

Your throat felt parched, you couldn’t say anything although you longed to.

He cupped your cheek and wiped the tears you were unaware you were shedding. “Shhh… It’ll be alright. I’m here. Don’t worry about anything. I’ll stay with you and...”

Before you could hear the rest of Diavolo’s words of comfort, everything had gone black.

Vivid visions of the past filled your dreams one after another. You had long heard of people having their life flash before their eyes before they pass away. Was this it? Were you dying? You hoped not. The images blurred and turned ambiguous as the heat you felt subsided.

And then, you returned to the waking world. Alive.

The cool wind from the open terrace doors nipped at your skin. Except for your exposed back, the rest of your body was warm, enveloped by the calming embrace of the man laying underneath you.

You slowly opened your eyes and blinked.

Diavolo turned his head to look at you. “You’re awake.”

Your fingers reached the fabric of the sleeveless nightdress you were wearing. Vaguely, you recognize it as one of the items in the closet next door. It was your first time wearing it.

“I dressed you. I hope you don’t mind,” Diavolo said.

“It’s fine.” You had shared more intimate moments to be embarrassed about something like that; it almost felt trivial. “Thank you for staying and taking care of me.”

“Of course.”

“What time is it?”

“Almost midnight. How are you feeling?”

Abruptly, you sat bolt upright. “Wait, what? And the celebratory ball?”

“It’s still ongoing, but you have nothing to worry about. More importantly, does your back still hurt?”

“No,” you replied after a brief pause, surprised at your own observation. You stretched your shoulders and bent your arm to reach over the small of your back to check. “It’s as if nothing happened.”

“Something did, actually. Something very important,” Diavolo informed you, his tone full of seriousness. “Your mark changed.”

“What do you mean it changed?”

It was the first time you heard of a soulmark morphing into another shape or form. Appearances of soulmarks were rare enough. As you mulled it over, however, you were quick to overcome the disbelief. When all was said and done, you and Diavolo were far from a regular pair of lovers.

Diavolo sat up and took your hand in his. “Come, look.”

The spark of excitement and delight in his demeanor piqued your curiosity. His eagerness, though contagious, was patient. He led you to the bathroom at the pace you were most comfortable with. Given the events that transpired earlier, the last thing he wanted was to insist you advance quicker and push yourself too hard.

A giant mirror rested over the sink. Unlike before, you had no qualms nor nervous sentiments about looking over your back. The nightdress made it easy for you to see what Diavolo was talking about.

“This is…”

“My sigil.”

You face Diavolo with a quiet smile.

“Do you still have doubts about me? About us?” he asked.

“No… I’m sorry.” You take his hand in yours once more. “For the record, I don’t think I ever will again.”

“Good to know.”

“Why didn’t you tell me right away? You said you suspected it from the first day we met. I think there’s a possibility Barbatos knew of it as well.”

“Yes, it was the first time I felt so drawn to someone, but while I had my suspicions, I was only able to confirm them during that day, at the House of Lamentation,” he revealed, squeezing your hand. “As for Barbatos, I asked him not to look into anything relating to the prophecy and you, or at least, not to inform me if he sees anything—except if you would be in danger. I wanted things between us to progress naturally. Was that overly selfish of me?”

“Not at all. I’m glad we were able to get through this together, just the two of us,” you replied, endeared by his intention of pursuing a relationship with you in the most normal and genuine way he could. “I didn’t act upon it because I never thought it would be possible, but I… felt drawn to you from the first day, too.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes,” you admitted and glanced at the door. “Is it too late for us to attend the party? I bet everyone is worried.”

“Are you feeling fine enough?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” He nodded, his expression shifting into an amused one. “I think our previous outfits are wrinkled, though.”

You laughed. “I think so, too.”

“Why don’t you choose another one from your closet? You know, I was wondering why you’re always so hesitant to accept gifts from me.”

“Sorry about that,” you replied with sincerity. “This time, I accept the offer wholeheartedly. Thank you for everything. I mean it.”

“You’re welcome, my princess.”

As a final touch, you swiped a layer of red lipstick over your lips and closed the container with a snap. You leaned back and observed your reflection in the mirror. Even though your choice of lip color was bold, you opted for light makeup and went with the natural flushing of your cheeks. You couldn’t help the blood heating up your face at the reminder of your earlier escapades with Diavolo. Undoubtedly, you would never be able to look at this vanity table in the same way ever again.

Gold jewelry adorned your ears and wrists. The intricate lace pattern of the sleeves and neckline of the black evening gown you were wearing was exquisite to your touch. The full expanse of your back was bare, laid in the open for all to see. While you were unused to such clothing, the impending revelation of your fate for all of the three worlds to witness felt right. All in all, it was a quick ensemble you arranged, but it was elegant. You were more satisfied than you were earlier when you first dressed up for the celebratory ball—in more ways than one.

“All done?” Diavolo asked, standing up from the chaise and putting his D.D.D. inside his pocket. He was in his demon form, as everyone else would be except for your friends from Purgatory Hall, for your ceremonial dance at the end of the celebration. It would be the only event you would be able to attend at this point, but it was the most important one, marking the end of Diavolo’s search and the beginning of your new role.

“Yes.”

He stepped forward and offered you his arm. “Shall we, my princess?”

Wordlessly, you smiled and slipped your hand in his arm as affirmation. This time, you had no guilt nor doubt. Your relationship with him was as real as it could get. You were the prophesied Queen of the Devildom. Soon, he would be your King.

Diavolo was your fate and your choice. And you were his.

Bound by destiny are the Prince and the Princess.

Over her skin, his symbol shall appear and remain.

And with the whole Devildom as their witness,

King and Queen, they shall be; eternal, they will reign.

Notes: And that’s a wrap!

This fic began with the idea of a character having ‘666’ as a soulmark. It was the first time I posted a work that was still in progress, and I’m really grateful for all the kind comments and feedback I received along the way. Thank you to everyone who supported this story. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! 💖

See No Evil, Hear No Evil, Speak No Evil

Obey Me! Masterlist | Main Masterlist

#obey me #obey me!#obey me diavolo #obey me! diavolo #obey me fic #obey me fanfic #obey me fanfiction #obey me imagines #obey me scenarios #swd #shall we date #shall we date obey me #LordDiavolo #diavolo x reader #diavolo x mc #🙈🙉🙊

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alicanta77 · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 5: Empire Dawning

Pairing: princess!y/n x prince!Chenle

Themes: royalty au, fluff, angst

Warnings: arranged marriage, character death, injury, illness

Words: 6k

Inspiration: BTS - Blood, Sweat and Tears - orchestral cover

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Finale

tag list: @hiqhkey @jaeshatshop @lebrookestore @honei-n @cheonsa1004 @haechans-sunflower @crispy-chan @rvse-hvvck @chezzontop

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The next few months passed like a blur. You and Chenle hadn’t gone a single day without seeing each other and your happiness radiated throughout the whole kingdom. As well as spending time together, you also had your individual duties, with Chenle training with the knights and you attending council hearings and shadowing your mother.

The only dark cloud that hung over you, was your father’s health.

In the months since his injury, he still hadn’t recovered. The castle doctors couldn’t understand what the problem was. The wound had been treated with disinfectant and cared for with the utmost care, and it appeared as though it had healed. Yet, your father could barely get out of bed.

He was weak, his eyes were duller skin had less colour than normal, and you were worried. It became clear that the blade had been laced with some kind of poison, something that was intended to kill the king from the inside out. For a while you had thought that he would just be weakened, but as his health began to deteriorate once again, and you knew that he didn’t have long left.

Chenle had become a pillar of support for your mother while your father struggled. He had attended countless meetings and sessions, and provided her with advice when she asked for it. Anybody could see that he was someone she relied on and trusted with every fibre of her being.

You drew your eyes away from your mother and once again regarded the papers in front of you, tuning your ears back into the councilman who was speaking.

“By increasing taxes we can afford to pay for the renovations for the lower towns. We’ll need to purchase some materials from travelling merchants in order to deter the bandits from making more attacks. But this money will be to bring in specialists who can build the defences.”

Your mother sighed, reading the documents in her hands, reaching to sign it but Chenle’s brows furrowed and he gently stopped her hand.

“Why would we need to increase the taxes again?” He questioned, looking at the councilman who visibly swallowed under Chenle’s scrutinising gaze. “The taxes were temporarily increased in order to pay for medication for the king which hasn’t worked. I don’t think we can justify raising them again for a job that some of our own people can do.”

“The people are already giving everything they can.” You spoke up, nodding at Chenle to show your support for his objection. “If we increase the taxes, some of them may need to ration food or pick up extra jobs.”

“But this will not be a permanent raise.” The councilman argued. “This is only to ensure that the job is done properly.”

“We have some fine workmen here. Why would we hire people to do a job when we could give it to someone who is already here?” You questioned with Chenle immediately backing you up with another point after.

“Not only is that better for the economy, but it’s a solution, whereas raising taxes and bringing in external ‘specialists’ would simply create public unrest and difficulty for our people, which, in my eyes, seem to be more problems that we would then need to solve.”

Your mother placed the document back down on the table in front of her, and slid it across back to the sullen councilman.

“No.” She spoke with a quiet authority. “While your idea seemed manageable to you, it is only because you would not be the one finding solutions to the problems it causes, the Prince and Princess would. They are correct. It is not worth paying people extra to do a job that our own people can do. I want you to spread words for the work that we need done along with the salary that is offered.” Your mother gestured towards a few people on her right, who nodded at her words before she turned back towards the rest of the council. “If there are no more issues to be addressed, this concludes today’s meeting.”

When no words were spoken, the guards standing by the exit opened the large wooden doors and everyone stood. The three of you waited for the room to empty before the queen nodded at the guards again, and they shut the doors once more, this time standing on the outside of it.

“Well, that ran for longer than expected.” Your mother muttered, turning back to the two of you. “Thank you for speaking up.”

After receiving a smile and nod from both you and Chenle she turned and began to walk away, the smile slowly dropping off your face as you watched her go. She still held herself high, walking with the power that a queen would, but there was a heaviness that followed her wherever she went. It was as if she was struggling to make it through the day.

Chenle’s hand squeezed your shoulder lightly.

“She’s just worried about your father.” He murmured, stepping forwards to wrap an arm fully around your shoulders. “Like I am about you.”

You leaned back into him, resting your head against his shoulder and sighed.

“i’ll be fine.” You reassured him, turning around and wrapping your arms lightly around his waist as he leant down to briefly touch his forehead to yours. “I just... I’ve never seen her like this. She’s always been so strong, so sure of everything she does, and now, it’s like, as my father dies, so does some part of her. I feel like I’m losing them both at the same time, and I’m not ready for it.”

Chenle nodded, taking in your words and listening intently. He leaned in, placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

“I know it’s difficult watching them like this, it’s difficult for me too, but all we can do is be there for her, and offer her the support that your father can’t anymore.” You closed your eyes and nodded, Chenle’s words comforting you.

“You’re right. I know you’re right I just need reminding sometimes.”

Chenle nodded, placing a kiss on your cheek.

“Hey, we have some free time and I think the music room is free.” He suggested, his eyebrows raised in anticipation and you grinned in response, grabbing his hand and leading him out of the hall.

---

Chenle’s fingers danced over the piano, expertly playing the ending to the song the two of you had just sung. This place was a safe space. A place where it was just the two of you and you could forget about the countless things kept you from falling asleep at night.

The final note echoed around the otherwise empty room, and you gently shut your eyes, listening as it faded into nothingness. When you reopened your eyes, you found Chenle already looking at you. For a moment the two of you just stared at each, the silence comforting enough with words unnecessarily interrupting it.

The silence eventually grew thin and you began to think of something to say, a phrase that would match the perfection of this moment in time. Luckily for you, Chenle seemed to have a different idea on what to say, which was limited to saying nothing.

He quickly leant in, closing the short distance between the two of you and pressing his lips to yours. You kissed him back, smiling into the kiss and moving your hand up to his cheek.

“What was that for?” You asked him, the grin on your face mirrored on his.

Chenle shrugged.

“I just felt like it.” He leaned in again, placing a much softer peck on your lips before standing up.

He offered you a hand which you took, standing as well and adjusting your long dress as you did. Chenle kept a hold of your hand, using it to bring you closer to him.

“You know, one day we should get someone else to play for us.” He suggested as you raised your eyebrows.

“Is that so?” You asked as he nodded nonchalantly.

“Yep, because that way I can do this with you to someone else’s music.” He grabbed your waist lightly with his other hand and began to gently sway the two of you.

Your body reacted on instinct, moving your free hand to his shoulder and you couldn’t stop the giggle that left you when your mind registered what you were doing.

The two of you gently danced around the room, covering ground yet never looking away from each other. Chenle turned you in a dramatic spin before dipping you as you both cracked up. The sound of footsteps echoed down the corridor, causing Chenle to pull you back up into a standing position.

The two of you shared a knowing look, predicting what was about to happen. And, just as you had thought, your lady in waiting appeared in the corner, informing you of the time. You nodded at her words that your father was asking for you and you turned back towards Chenle, pulling on his hand to guide him out of the door.

“I’ll see you later?” You asked.

“Of course.” Chenle replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Don’t forget to ask your father about us visiting the villages!”

Your eyes widened slightly at that, the thought having slipped your mind. You thanked him, promising to remember and you both walked your separate ways.

---

Chenle wandered the halls of the castle, not walking anywhere in particular and not really focusing on where he was going. He had become so familiar with these passages that he could get to any room on muscle memory alone.

He still remembers the time he got lost in the North quarter in his early days here. He’d been thinking about meeting you, and somehow taken the wrong turn, leaving it up to you to come and find him. Chenle chuckled to himself as he remembered the state of panic he had been in.

He sometimes found himself missing those early days, when everything was new and he was seeing these things for the first time. But if he was being honest, the only thing that Chenle wanted to do again for the first time, was meet you, to get to know you and learn about you all over again. To fall in love with you all over again.

Sometimes Chenle dreamt about taking you back to Shanghai, showing you off to his people and touring you around the castle he grew up in. Maybe even coming to find you when you got lost this time. But that couldn’t happen, not now at least. You couldn’t afford to leave the Queen in this state, not while the king was so fragile.

One day, Chenle promised. One day, he would show you his home.

The clanging sound of swords clashing drew him out of his thoughts and Chenle realised he was walking towards the training grounds. He let his feet carry him across the grass and he came to a stop, standing on the side of the training grounds, watching Jisung, Jaehyun and Taeyong training some new knights in swordplay.

Jisung noticed him watching, sending him a nod in acknowledgement, which Chenle returned. Jisung looked at the knight in front of him and Chenle could see the cockiness radiating off him from where he was standing.

Taeyong and Jaehyun came to stand beside Chenle, both of them patting him on the shoulder and bumping his elbow in greeting.

“They’re not a bad bunch.” Taeyong told him, referring to the new knights. “Lots of potential, they just need to get it in their heads that this isn’t all glory. That one facing Jisung now, he’s the best out of this group.”

Chenle nodded, tilting his head as he caught the end of what Jisung was saying.

“You can’t fight for something you don’t believe in.”

The knight who was facing off Jisung scoffed, making all of the knights watching raise their eyebrows in disbelief at his attitude.

“You can when you’re as skilled as I am.” The young knight retaliated, clearly attempting to show off to his friends. “I can fight for nothing and I’ll still win.”

“No.” Chenle spoke up, making all eyes turn on him as he began to walk towards them. “You’ll lose.” The jaws of knights who were training all dropped slightly at the sight of their Prince. Ever since the battle and his coronation, Chenle had been extremely well respected around the kingdom and that respect had only been going up with his close relationship with the queen. “You’ll always lose.”

Chenle stepped forward so that he was standing in front of the group of knights, standing at Jisung’s side. Jisung reached out, offering him a sword which Chenle took with a small but grateful smile.

“Those who fight without belief can never win. Because it’s that belief, that passion, that trust in what you’re fighting for that gives you strength when you need it most. The picture of what you love most in this world appears in your head and you know that, for that thing you love, you can fight for as long as you need to. Those who fight with a cause don’t fight because they have to, they fight because they want to. Because they have something worth fighting for.”

The knights were rendered speechless by the end of Chenle’s short speech. All of them, including the cocky youngster at the front nodded rapidly in understanding. Jisung gave some new commands to pair up with a trainer as some of the more experienced knights, including Jaemin and Jeno arrived. Chenle immediately began to help out, demonstrating moves and tricks to the boy he was assigned to.

He didn’t notice or hear Taeyong lean over to Jaehyun and speak a quiet sentence which Jaehyun nodded in agreement with.

“Spoken like a true King.”

---

You had never been so relieved to have switched out your usual floaty dresses for a pair of trousers today. You and Chenle had headed down to one of the kingdom’s outlying villages for the day in order to help them rebuild it. When you had visited your father the day before, you’d asked for his permission and his words were still echoing in your head today.

“My dear, even if I didn’t give you permission you would be going down there anyway. And I know that because I know you, and I know what you’re willing to do. Now let me tell you, no one needs permission to care about someone else or to help them. This goes beyond being a good queen, this is being a good person.”

It was the last thing he said before you left the room. Your father had a habit of leaving you with words that stayed with you for a while. It was as if he had a goal of giving you a piece of wisdom every time you talked.

You reached for another plank of wood, passing it up to Chenle who grabbed it and began to move it into the right place on the roof. You had been working hard for a couple of hours and you were beginning to tire. Your muscles were aching, but you refused to stop, knowing how much this would help the people living in this village.

You reached down for another plank, your fingers grasping at empty air as you realised that was the final one. You shouted the news up at Chenle before moving to sit on a nearby grassy slope. Chenle climbed down from the ladder he was on and flopped down in a heap next to you.

“You’ve never been more graceful.” You commented sarcastically.

“Thank you.” He replied without missing a beat. “You know, you should wear trousers more often, they look good.”

“I doubt my mother would approve.” You laugh as Chenle chuckled too.

“You’re probably right.” He agreed, before lifting his hand and pointing towards the crops. “Also, we should do something about the fence.”

Your eyes followed his finger to see that the fence around one of the fields had caved in, falling over the crops and stunting their growth.

“Yes, definitely. We could also put up a boundary around some of the houses. Maybe give them extra protection or places to store weapons. We should also install some trap doors if we can to give them a place to hide crops so that, if bandits come again and there’s no one here to protect them, they don’t lose everything they have.”

“Good idea.”

You and Chenle kept chatting, exchanging ideas and making plans of building that you would pitch to your parents. Chenle was just beginning the idea of training some of the young farm boys in basic combat when you suddenly put your hand on his chest, stopping him talking immediately.

He looked at you in confusion until he heard what you were hearing. Galloping hooves, horses getting closer and closer with each passing second. You both scrambled for your weapons, prepared to defend these people from the bandits you assumed were approaching with everything you had, when a single horse rounded the corner and approached you.

You recognised the man sitting upon it as the royal messenger.

“You’re needed back at the castle, immediately.” The urgency in his voice made you move quickly, sheathing your sword and mounting Obsidian. Chenle followed your actions also managing to ask the exact question that you were too afraid too.

“Why? What’s this about?”

“The King.”

---

You galloped all the way back to the castle, not slowing down for a second. Chenle was close behind you, the messenger somewhere further back, his horse too tired from the journey to the village to keep up with your desperate pace. You couldn’t describe the panic you felt in your chest. It was driving every move you made, encouraging you to go even faster. You urged Obsidian on, your horse grunting as he poured even more speed into his legs.

You heard Chenle do the same with Aspen, determined to keep up with you no matter what. You both approached the castle without losing speed, the guards at the gates running out of your way. You were forced to pull Obsidian to a slower pace as you made your way towards the castle doors. The stable hands rushed out to meet you and you jumped off and ran straight through the doors, ignoring everyone in your way.

By this point you didn’t know if Chenle was still behind you, and you didn’t have it in you to slow down and find out as you raced towards your parents quarters. You finally reached their room, threw open the doors and stared at the scene in front of you.

You barely heard Chenle’s footsteps as he arrived behind you, but you did feel his arms catching you as your knees gave out.

Your father was dead.

---

The funeral was the next day.

The night of his death, the citizens of your kingdom had stood in the courtyard of the palace and held candles, all of them wearing black out of respect. Your mother, Chenle and yourself went out to thank them and it took everything in you not to fall apart.

After thanking the people, you headed back inside. You went straight to your room, Chenle following you no matter how much you protested. Eventually you turned on him, demanding to know why he wouldn’t let you be. He took a step towards you, reaching up to move a small piece of hair out of your face before softly telling you.

“I don’t want you to feel alone.”

That was all it took to break you. You fell into his arms, crying about your father for the first time since you’d learnt of his death. Chenle had stayed with you the whole night, keeping you company and holding you close. He never let you go, not even for a moment.

The funeral was at night. It was a tradition of your kingdom for each living member of the royal family to say their private goodbyes to the deceased. This is for the people closest to them to say goodbye to his spirit. Chenle had gone first, then you and finally, your mother. Then, after the sun sets and the moon rises, you would come together with the people of your kingdom and say goodbye to his body.

You smoothed the non-existent wrinkles out of your dress, checking your hair one last time to make sure it was perfect. You caught the sight of Chenle in your mirror, watching you with a sad smile. He saw you return his smile with an attempt of one of your own and Chenle swore he felt his heart break slightly. Watching the woman he loved getting dressed for her fathers funeral was, to say the least, not a fun sight.

He offered a hand to you, and you shakily took it. You made to leave your room, but Chenle gently squeezed your hand and you paused, looking up at him. He didn’t say anything, yet somehow managed to have a whole conversation with you.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, feeling your heart rate calm slightly. Chenle intertwined your fingers, and you both headed out to the funeral.

You were standing on the river side, watching as the small boat your father’s body lay on was carried down. He was dressed in his best clothes, his arms resting on his chest, with his sword in his hands. His eyes were closed and he looked as though he was sleeping. Peace painted across his face for the first time in the many months since the battle. As heartbreakingly painful as losing your father was, there was comfort in knowing that he finally got the rest that he deserved.

The river was decorated with flowers, stray petals and floating candles. Citizens stood beside you, all of them holding a light weight lantern like your own. The soft yellow lights reflected off the river. You knew that your father would have loved how beautiful it all was. He had an eye for those kinds of things.

You moved down the river with the body, following it on it’s journey until the river began to spread out. The people fanned out, forming lines as they watched their king drift off into the distance. Your mother lifted her arms to the sky, showing off her lantern and shouted.

“From this life to his next life. May the king rest in peace.”

“May the king rest in peace.” You repeated, along with every other person present. Only you and Chenle were close enough to hear her whisper.

“Goodbye my love.” And with that she let go of her lantern, watching as it sailed off into the air.

All the people around you followed her example, releasing their floating lanterns into the sky. They spoke to them, saying something to their king before letting them fly.

You looked down at your own, trying to think of what your last words to your father should be. You bit your lip and leaned in closer to it and whispered quietly.

“Goodbye father, I love you.”

You let go.

---

You rolled over in your bed, unable to sleep. Ever since your father’s funeral you’d struggled with falling asleep, your mind too busy to let your body rest. You groaned, throwing the covers off you as you stared up at your ceiling.

Chenle had been keeping you company often, staying by your side, making sure you were alright, and it meant the world to you. You’d begun to find yourself missing him all the time he wasn’t with you, even if he’d just left your side a second ago.

You swung your legs off your bed, knowing you weren’t going to be getting any sleep here. The doors creaked slightly as you opened them, making you wince at the sound. You slipped out of them, shutting them behind you as you made your way through the castle.

You reached Chenle’s room quickly, knocking on the door lightly before going inside. His room was similar to yours in size, and you loved the odd decorations he had that had come with him from Shanghai. The red and gold tapestry that hung on the wall by the door was your personal favourite. You ran your fingers over it gently as you quietly called out for Chenle.

He didn’t reply so you moved further into his room. You turned and stopped when you saw where he was. His balcony. The door to it was shut so you caught his attention when you opened it to join him. He whispered a quiet hello to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders as he pulled you close.

You leant your head on his shoulder as you wrapped your arms around his bare torso and the two of you looked out over the scenery. From this position the two of you could see almost the entire lower town. There were odd yellow squares where you could tell someone’s light was on, but for the most part the town was shrouded in moonlight.

It almost looked too good to be true.

“Are you not cold?” You asked him as a breeze blew past the two of you, worried for you shirtless boyfriend.

“Not really, it gets colder than this in Shanghai, I guess I’m just used to it.” Chenle muttered, his eyes never leaving the scene in front of him. “Couldn’t sleep?” You shook your head sighing as he reassured you. “It’ll come, you just need some time. It’s hard, being in front of the people you have to be a ruler, you can’t show your emotion, especially not with how your mother is struggling. But things will get better. We’ll fix up the outlying villages, we’ll finish some of the tasks your father had hoped for and you’ll get closure. I promise.”

You nodded, feeling more relaxed already. Another breeze ripped through the two of you, causing Chenle to shiver.

“Okay, maybe now I’m cold.” He admitted, reaching behind him to open the door and bring you both back inside. You laughed as you followed him, happily embracing the warmth that his room provided.

You shut the door behind the two of you before following Chenle to his bed. He was already lying down in it, waiting for you with his arms open. You smiled at the sight of him, thinking how you could get used to seeing that. You climbed into his bed, setting down on his chest as he began to run his fingers through your hair.

You nestled your head into his neck, feeling him giggle when you placed feather light kisses on the skin there. Your hand came up to rest on his chest, your fingers softly tracing the scar from his stab wound. You ran your finger down the healed injury, following every pattern as Chenle watched.

The scare wasn’t huge, but it wasn’t small either. It was about 2 inches in length right in the place his shoulder meets his chest. You looked back up at him, another smile stretching across your face. Chenle’s spare hand came to rest on your shoulder, hugging you close to him and he pulled you in to kiss you.

You sighed into the kiss, feeling yourself tire for the first time that night. Chenle felt this too, quietly telling you to sleep when you both pulled away. You rested your head back in his neck before taking a deep breath. The only sign you were still awake was the small movements of your fingers lovingly tracing his scar.

Chenle shut his eyes as he kissed the top of your head, listening to your breathing even out. It was obvious you were close to falling asleep, just managing to whisper out a soft “I love you.” before you drifted off.

It wasn’t the first time you had said it, but no matter how many times Chenle heard it, the warm feeling that blossomed in his chest had never faltered. He couldn’t stop himself from smiling, from being reminded just how completely in love with you he was. And he knew that you were the one he wanted to be with.

“I love you too.” Chenle replied. “More than you’ll ever know.”

Chenle had lost track of how many times he’d thanked fate for bringing him here. For your kingdom to choose his to make an alliance with. For being the one chosen to marry you. Chenle had known for his entire time here that he would marry you, but he had never been so grateful for it as he was in this moment.

---

Within the month since the king’s death, the kingdom was back to normal. You’d buried yourself in your work, taking on more responsibilities to help your mother, finding comfort in finishing the projects your father had started and supported. Chenle had been right, you’d found closure in finishing his work, in making sure that his wishes were fulfilled, and you were finding yourself moving on.

You still missed him everyday, and you found it difficult at times to finish the work he’d started, knowing how much he would have wanted to see it. But, you were finally looking towards the future, and you knew that he would be relieved at that. He always told you “A good queen ignores the tough times and puts on a happy face for her people. But a true queen, acknowledges when times are hard, and encourages the kingdom to work through it together.” And those were the words you lived by.

You and Chenle had become loved public figures with the whole kingdom being thrilled with the strength of your relationship. It was a sign of hope, of solidarity, of new life in a time where they had been surrounded by loss.

Chenle strolled through the marketplace, his heart beating hard as he turned the gift he had just bought you over in his hands. It wasn’t, by any means, his first time buying you a gift, but he knew that this would be the most important gift he would ever buy.

He quickly made his way back to his room, Jisung waiting for him outside it when he finally arrived. Chenle ignored his friend’s questions, bringing him inside instead.

“You’re late.” Jisung said when Chenle let him speak.

“Yeah, I know, sorry.” Chenle apologised without really meaning it. His nerves were showing through his voice and it was confusing Jisung as to what gift the boy had bought. “I had to visit the royal jeweller to pick this up.”

“What is it?” Jisung asked, leaning over as if he could see into Chenle’s hands.

“It’s just a small gift for y/n.”

“Yes but what is it?” Jisung asked again exasperated, rolling his eyes at his friend’s density.

“This.” Chenle opened the box the gift was in, Jisung’s jaw dropping at the sight of it. His eyes shot from the jewellery back up to Chenle and back down to the jewellery again as he managed to form a single sentence through his shock.

“That’s an engagement ring.”

---

You were sitting on the cliff overlooking the citadel, your favourite place in the kingdom. Chenle was next to you, the two of you sitting in comfortable silence as you watched the bustle of life in your kingdom below you.

“Do you ever get nervous as to how things will change once we’re crowned?” You asked suddenly, the question hanging dangerously heavily in the air.

Chenle turned to look at you, taking a second to think before he answered, the honesty clear in his voice.

“Yes.” You blinked at his response, almost expecting him to say that he wasn’t worried and everything would be fine. “I get scared about how much more pressure will be on us, especially since we’ll have closer links to Shanghai and we’ll have responsibilities there as well as here. I get worried that we won’t have as much free time, meaning we won’t get days like this anymore when it can just be the two of us. I’m scared to live up to your parents, they’re incredible people and rulers and they set such an example that going after then is kind of nerve wracking. But at the same time, I’m not scared. I’m not scared in the slightest, because I know that, through this all, I’m going to have you by my side no matter what. And if I’ve got you, then I think I can do anything.”

You moved closer to him, curling up into his side and hugging him close, the feeling of his heartbeat giving you an unmatchable comfort.

“You’re very good at those speeches you know?” You mumbled, feeling his chest shake as he chuckled.

“It comes with the job.” He joked, bringing an arm up and squeezing your shoulder.

He leant down and placed a soft kiss on your forehead, sighing into your hair before pulling away.

“We have to get back soon.” You mumbled, him groaning in response.

“Why?” He whined and you laughed in disbelief.

“I don’t know? Maybe because we’re the heirs to the throne and our presence in our kingdom is kind of necessary?” You replied sarcastically and Chenle grabbed you tighter, falling back onto the grass so that you were basically lying on top of him.

“What if we weren’t though?” He suggested, holding up a finger as he saw the look on your face. “Just imagine it for a second, me and you, a simple farming couple. Just us, our fields, our horses and peace. No council meetings, no documents to read, no speeches, no wars, nothing but peace, tranquility and us. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

“That... that really would be actually...” You said quietly, picturing the life he imagined. “The simple life, just the two of us-”

“Working in the fields during the days.”

“And cooking together at night.” You and Chenle got into a rhythm of finishing each other’s sentences, being so in tune with each other and the life you were imagining.

“Having competitions as to who can bring in the most harvest in one go.”

“Rebuilding local houses in our village.”

“Slow dancing in our kitchen late at night.”

“Waking up as the sun rises.”

“With four kids to help us out.”

“Two!”

“Three? One boy and two girls.”

“Deal.”

“And we’d get married with them all there, everyone who matters most to us, surrounded in our little paradise.”

You smiled at the sky, listening to Chenle talk about your future.

“Maybe in one life-”

“Just not this one.” He finished as you shook your head.

“Unfortunately not.” You climbed up, Chenle following as the two of you prepared to make your journey back to the castle. Chenle lifted up the final bag, placing it on Aspen as you took one last look at the view. When attaching it to his saddle, the small box, which contained the gift he’d bought earlier fell out. He quickly picked it up, his heart quickening with nerves as he turned back towards you listening to your words. “We can’t have anything from that.”

“We could have something.” He suggested as you turned around, a confused smile on your face. “I can’t give you a farm, or anything like the simple life we pictured, but I can make you happy. And I’d really love to be able to do that for a very long time.” He brought the gift in front of him, dropping to one knee and opening it.

Your jaw dropped in shock, your hands instinctively coming up to cover your mouth as tears pricked your eyes. You couldn’t believe what was happening, saying it was unexpected was an understatement. You stared at the boy you loved with all your heart as he asked the single most important question you had ever been asked in your life.

“Will you marry me?”

107 notes · View notes

sleepylixie · 4 years ago

Text

Lost Boy

Swan Prince! Felix X Princess! reader

Fantasy AU, Retelling of the Swan Lake.

5k words, Romance(Fluff/Angst), Beware of mentions of death(Only mentions, with respect to curses and general dark magical behaviour)

A/N: @crscendoforsung hallo, Soro!! Tis me, your Secret Santa!!! You’ve been such a sweet soul (That Jisung anon of yours is so cool. btw-) and I hope you like this little offering to make the end of your year a little bit sweeter! This idea seemed to fit your vibe (and Felix) too well, so I just had to give it a spin~ This here marks the start of Christmas on Sleepylixie!! As always I will be incorporating high fantasy into the stories you will be seeing and I hope all of you enjoy reading them! Huge thank you to @aliceu @decembermoonskz and @seraplantery for helping me through moments of writers block hhhh- Do let me know what you think, my ask box is open!~

Drop me an ask! || Masterlist

I love you as misfortune loves orphans, as fire loves innocence, and as justice loves to sit and watch everything wrong. -Lemony Snicket

The first time you met him was quite by chance. You’d broken away from your maids, eyes glowing in the darkness as you strolled through the woods, humming an odd tune to yourself. It was a full moon night, so you’d headed out under disguise for a night time frolic in the nearby woods. You’d forgone the heavy skirts and tiaras of your royal wardrobe for the looser bodice and thinner skirts of a homespun dress your maid lent you, tendrils of breeze and grass grazing your ankles as you moved.

All too suddenly, you stumbled into a clearing by a lake- it was small but beautiful, almost ethereal with it’s still waters and edges disappearing into the shade of the trees. But what caught your eye was a slash of of white against the darkness of the far shore- upon squinting, you realized it wasn’t a bird, but a boy. Evidently, he’d noticed you too, because he straightened up from his kneeling position, head cocking to the side as his eyes scanned yours.

You smiled at him uncertainly, unsure of whether you were invading a moment of privacy or worse, a moment of dark magic. Your own magic roiled inside you, careful of the possible threat this boy could pose to you. However, he only smiled back, and stepped onto the water- walking over the surface, almost gliding across the lake to your side of the shore. He didn’t leave a single ripple in his wake, almost like he was just an apparition floating right above the water. You watched in silence as he he stepped out of the lake, coming to a stop in front of you.

He was slight in build, almost birdlike- but his shoulders seemed strong under his white and gold outfit. His bright golden eyes curved softly above his cheekbones, burnished bronze hair falling elegantly over the planes of his forehead.

“Hello, mortal.” His voice was deep, instantly sending shivers of wonder down your spine. “Or should I say royal?” He smiled, rosebud lips parting slightly as he nodded at the signet ring on your finger, the only sign of your heritage. He had a sharp eye for detail, this strange boy who could walk on water. Perhaps he was Fae?

“You know of my heritage, but I know not of yours,” you hedged, not wanting to give him your name; names held power, after all. The boy grinned wider, poking his tongue into his cheek as he eyed you amusedly. “You may call me Felix, darling.”

He wasn’t Fae, after all. He was from a far off land, he said, beyond the bounds your kingdom knew of. He was to stay in these very woods as an apprentice with a family of magic wielders and alchemists. He was an easy talker and an even easier listener; he enjoyed your accounts of the royal court and the parlour you presided over and your evenings of sneaking past the guards into the night markets.

It was a peaceful time with him, walking amongst the woods- you forgot that you were supposed to be with your maids, basking in the new companionship you’d found. You enjoyed Felix’s company, you realized as the night wound down, making way for a new dawn as Felix led you to the edge of the woods.

“You must come see me in the castle gardens,” You smiled, clasping his hands in yours. Felix eyed your intertwined hands before looking back up at your face. Your eyes were bright, your skin glowing against the soft morning sun. “It is a glorious place, you will love the magical herb-house, and oh, the fountain too-”

“I would be honoured, princess.” He bowed his head slightly, suddenly shy. “But I am a being of the night. Visiting after twilight isn’t the most becoming of a lady of your stature, I’m certain.”

Your brows furrowed; he was right, but you did not want to entertain the possibility of never meeting your new friend again. Stars knew when you’d get to sneak this far out of the castle again. “It matters not, dear friend.” you declared. “I shall slip past the guards into the garden, if it allows me to see you again. That is,” you fumbled, a wave of awkwardness invading your mind as you dropped his hands and stepped backwards. “That is, if you would wish to meet me again, I do not mean to impose-”

“As I said, princess,” Felix smiles-no, smirks, backing up into the trees, almost melting into the shadows. “I would be honoured. Until next moon, then.”

True to his word, you saw him standing next to the fountain from your room balcony the next full moon. Slipping past your guards and into the garden, you found Felix gazing around in wonder, eyes bright as he took in the sight.

The wide fountain was set in the center of a large square hedge of rose bushes. At the center of the fountain was the sculpture of a long-haired mermaid with a trident in her twisted hands, face serene as water gushed around her stone-scaled tail. At night, the water shimmered in the moonlight and the soft glow of the moonflies that flitted around the area, making the scene all the more exquisite.

You loved the privacy and peace the fountain provided you, with the tall rose hedges and the flow of water. The moment you stepped into the hedge, Felix’s eyes shot towards you, widening in wonder. You were dressed in lilac gossamer, a silver cape akin to butterfly wings draped over your shoulders and a matching silver wreath woven into your hair... You looked less like the girl-next-door he met and more like the heiress of the kingdom he lived in. He averted his eyes, rubbing the back of his neck. “You… You look breathtaking, Your Highness,” he murmured, bowing low.

You giggled as you walked towards him, your skirts dragging on the grass. “Felix, please. I’m no more than the girl you met at the lake during the last moon. I plead you to not see me otherwise when I am dressed in the garb of a royal.” He straightened up and smiled at you, his demeanor relaxing almost instantly after hearing your familiar voice. He looked almost angelic in the light of the moonflies, bouncing off the glitter on his eyelashes.

“As you wish, princess.” He turned back towards the fountain, letting his fingers trail in the shallow water of the pool as he sat on the edge. “You were correct, this garden is a work of art.”

“It is, isn’t it?” You responded, sitting next to Felix on the edge of the pool, uncaring of your pretty garments. “The gardens take up a good half of the castle grounds. I love spending my nights there. The herbhouse, in particular. We grow a lot of the kingdom’s alchemical herbs ourselves, so I’d suggested we supply them to those who need it for no cost.” Felix glanced at you in surprise, his fingers twirling together two streams of water from the pool. “That’s generous.”

“It’s our duty as royals to make our subjects’ lives as easy as we can,” you shrugged, leaning your head back to watch the stars. “While levying taxes is a necessity, it felt prudent to cut down costs for a normal man and make alchemy available to all. Knowing what herbs are used for what can save lives someday.”

“That’s very noble of you, princess.” He murmured, his lips quirking up as he stared into the night sky. “I’ve seen royals that are drunk off the crown’s power to the point of greed and gluttony. But here you are, giving everything you can for your subjects. It’s admirable, really.”

“As I said, it’s my duty.” You let your attention slip to the pretty shapes Felix was conjuring out of the pool’s water. “Now, tell me, how has your time in the woods been?”

As you grew into adulthood, your daily responsibilities became larger, but you welcomed it. You’d trained and studied for years so you could take on the mantle of crown royal for your kingdom, and you were only too willing to make your contribution to council meetings and parlour galas alike. However, your friendship with Felix was like a safe haven from the day’s happenings, a space where you could just be Felix’s companion and not a royal with responsibilities.

The both of you grew more and more comfortable with each other, letting yourself slip into familiarity when you were together. You showed him all your favourite corners of the garden, but your favourite place to spend time together was at the mermaid fountain. You’d always meet there at the last midnight chimes on full moon nights and sit at the stone edge, talking and flicking water at each other.

He would always bring you enchanted wreaths of flower crowns that wouldn’t wilt for weeks- it was for you to remember him by until the next full moon, he claimed. You would wear them everyday until the magic wore off, counting down the days until you got to see Felix again.

The first time you met him was quite by chance. It had been almost a year since you’d begun to meet Felix in your expansive garden. He was waiting for you by the fountain, just as he had a year ago- but something was different. He’d normally be trying to catch the moonflies or playing with the pool’s water, but today he was looking straight at the entrance of the hedge, almost like he was waiting for you.

“Good evening to you too, sunshine.” You smile, walking straight into his arms, as you always did. Hugs were your way of greeting your magical friend from the woods, once you’d caught on that Felix loved physical affection. He’d normally catch you and swing you around, the two of you trying to stifle your laughter as he set you down. This time however, he pulled you closer by the waist, pressing you to his body as he nuzzled his nose into your neck. A shiver of apprehension slithered down your spine. This wasn’t normal.

You pulled back, but his arms tightened around you, restricting your movement- and that was when you noticed it. His normally gold eyes were the darkest shade of obsidian black, his lips pulled back slightly in a smirk. Instead of his usual outfit of golds and whites, he was dressed in stark red and black, making you stumble back at the realization. In your haste to see him again, you hadn’t noticed his clothes, demeanor or eyes, none of which alluded to the boy you were used to meeting.

“You’re not Felix.” You said out loud, hoping against hope that you were wrong. But the boy that stood before you cocked his head, an action that you were so used to seeing from your friend but right now, looked like a foreign action of pure impertinence. “What makes you think so, princess?” His smirk grew wider. You stood your ground, hackles rising at the almost insulting tone he was using. “Was it the clothes? Or maybe the fact that I’m making it obvious how much I enjoy touching you?”

Your teeth gritted as you let out a snarl of your own. “ Watch your mouth, Felix.”

To your surprise, Felix let out a laugh, sticking his tongue in his cheek- another familiar action that seemed disrespectful on this.. This impostor. “Are you scared of me, sweetheart?” He cooed, taking another step towards you. Your magic stuttered to life as adrenaline rushed through your body, an invisible protective forcefield molding itself around your body. “Oh, that’s adorable.” He laughed again, loud and derisive. “That forcefield doesn’t hold a candle to my kind of power, princess.”

“If you’re Felix, prove it.” You demanded, the fear sharpening your senses to cold awareness. He rolled the cricks out of his neck, training his jarringly black eyes on you again. “We met at a lake a year ago this day. Or rather, you met my twin. He’s the one you’ve been meeting all this while, although I’m loath to admit it. I guarantee you, I’m much looser with my tongue than my damned twin is.”

“If Felix is your twin, what’s your name?” Your voice was cold, devoid of the fear that was rippling through your veins at the moment. “I’m Ellix. Pleased to make your acquaintance, princess,” he spit the endearment out like a curse, dropping into a mocking bow. When he rose, his lips quirked up in the same arrogant smirk, his hands running through his hair. “And who said anything about different bodies?”

A quiet knocking awoke you from your slumber the next night, prompting you to sit up and pull the bedcovers over your body. Were you hallucinating? You hadn’t slept at all the previous night, still reeling from the oddity that was Felix. You ordered him to leave the premises immediately after his strange declarations of having a twin… in the same body? He’d held his arms out, pouting for another hug, but you snarled at him until he left.

Another knock brought you out of your reverie; you were definitely not imagining it. Pulling a robe around your body, you stepped out into the balcony, to be faced with an unfamiliar boy standing next to the railing, his hands twisting together nervously. He had jet-black hair that engulfed his forehead and high cheekbones that made his round eyes look bigger. Your heart dropped slightly; you were hoping it was Felix, here to explain himself. You needed explanations, and your midnight companion was the only one who could give them to you.

“Your Highness, Many apologies for the late hour.” the boy bowed, his voice high for a male, yet smooth- you shook yourself. You were comparing his voice to Felix’s infinitely deeper one. “Who might you be?” You questioned, your voice even.

“I.. well, I’m Han Jisung, your Highness. I’m from the Twilight Woods. You’re Felix’s companion?” The mention of Felix’s name had you jolting to attention, but you kept your face schooled to polite indifference. “What is it to you?”

“I heard that he.. He wasn’t himself when he came to you the previous night. I felt it prudent to come to you with the information you must be seeking, because Felix won’t tell you himself.”

“On whose authority do you hold this information, Jisung?” you demanded- you were not going to be duped by dark magic. You magic probed him shamelessly for traces of dark magic, turning up with nothing but an airy silence. “On my own, your Highness,” Jisung smiled sadly. “I’m one of the people who know the truth. I’m His Highness Prince Felix’s elder brother, second in line to the Twilight Throne.”

“The Twilight Woods outside your kingdom has had its own royalty, ever since it’s inception. We preside over the woods and the surrounding lands and make sure our subjects don’t wreak too much havoc in your lands. Our folk are wilder, they live much longer than your subjects outside the woods and reside further into the woods than any of your folk would dare to wander. The lake you met my brother at is one of the entrances to our kingdom. For the past 200 years, our uncle has ruled the Twilight Woods. His 3 daughters were in line for the throne- but Mina abdicated and Chaeyoung ran away, leaving only… Sana.

“Everybody knew that she was courting the darkness, with her obscene interest in blood magic. When the King our uncle found her in the middle of a pentagram with her hands wreathed in shadows and her lips red as blood, he knew Sana was beyond help. He had her banished immediately, leaving only my little brother and I as choices for ascension to the throne.

“My brother is blessed with an almost endless bank of magic, but he was a creator first, a royal next. His dream was to become an alchemist, providing treatment and protection to the kingdom with his potions. The kingdom loved him, as did our uncle. He saw greatness in my little brother- in his golden heart, infinite power and unflinching moral compass so he chose Felix as his heir apparent.

“The kingdom rejoiced the new era of their to-be king. The coronation was to be the most special day of all our lives. But that Christmas Eve, days before the coronation… Sana broke through the kingdom’s defenses and ravaged her way to the castle. She trapped Felix in a wall of fire in the throne room, rendering any of us unable to help.

“Even his endless power was no match for the abomination she’d become. When she subdued Felix, she.. she placed a curse on him, condemning him to the life of a wordless bird- a swan by day and only reverting to himself by night. She… She gave him no ultimatum. Just that… that she’d give him 50 years to try and find a loophole, just for her sick amusement. If he failed, he would spend the rest of his existence as a swan, completely losing his humanity.

“What we didn’t anticipate was his magic taking a hit from the curse. The internal war his endless magic had with Sana’s curse had created a.. Well, a dark alter ego. We… We called him Ellix. One that was consumed by his base desires and lacked the grace that my brother normally held himself with. Between the curse and the possibility of meeting Ellix at sundown...there was no way he could possibly take the throne. We are not many months short of the 50 year mark, and the stress and fear he’s feeling just means that Ellix is awoken more often than not.

“Yesterday was one such day when Ellix came out to play, and I must apologize on his behalf. You have been a dear friend to Felix ever since you met him. It would shatter him to realize that his own alter ego had damaged a companionship he holds so close to his heart. Ellix is Felix’s darkest, most depraved impulses put into a persona. It is not the Felix you know, the way no mortal is defined by their darkness.

“When he does meet you again, I implore you to not push my little brother away. He is a lost boy, his power and sense of duty beyond that of beings wizened and old. He needs a friend that doesn’t see him for his curse but for the individual that he is. All I ask of you is to be that person for him, for these last few months of his life.”

You waited impatiently for the next full moon, barely focusing on your daily royal duties as you counted down the days. As the full moon night got closer, you steeled your nerves, prepared for the possibility of meeting Ellix- a persona that you were woefully unfamiliar with despite the familiar face he carried. This was just another facet of the Felix you knew. How was this any different from the different faces of a mortal’s personality? You would not be bowed by his drastic change in behavior, you decided.

You hurried your steps as you made your way to the mermaid fountain, the delicate iron chains around your shoulders clicking softly against the midnight blue fabric of your dress. Rounding the edge of the hedge, your eyes instantly caught Felix’s- no, this was Ellix. His eyes were the same obsidian black as before, standing out starkly against his honey skin and the gold circlet that rested on his forehead. You took a deep breath, calming your nerves. His lips dragged up in a smirk akin to the ones he’d flashed at you the previous moon. “If you’re done taking in my appearance, darling, I must say you look absolutely ravishing yourself. ” You rolled your eyes, pursing your lips against the smile that bubbled to your lips unbidden. “If you’re going to behave like a creepy elder with me, Ellix, I guarantee you I will not be hugging you, or walking with you anytime soon.”

A surprised laugh spilled from Felix, his dark eyes lighting up with amusement. This was banter the two of you were used to, indulging in the easy back-and-forth for hours on end. “No hugging or walking for us then, darling.” The endearment spoken in Ellix’s voice struck a chord, sending a familiar shiver of wonder down your spine. “What do you think about talking?”

You grin back at him, taking his hand and leading him to the edge of the fountain. “That is most definitely my cup of tea.”

That full moon night cemented your companionship with Felix’s dark alter ego- who wasn’t as dark as he made himself out to be. Ellix was much more easy with his magic than Felix, using his powers to do even the smallest of things. He was also more confident, almost confrontational with his opinions and his sentiments- even if they weren’t in line with yours. You enjoyed the new dimension to your banter, although a small part of you missed the softness that came with Felix himself.

Despite his openness, however, you couldn’t bring yourself to ask about the curse, or the story Jisung had entrusted you with. It seemed too big of a topic to breach- one that Ellix or Felix would have to address by themselves. So you let the conversation flow in the way they wished it to- quick witted banter and almost flirtatious comments.

The next moon had you encountering Felix again, and you were quick to jump into his arms and he swung you around, the two of you laughing brightly as his eyes crinkled, the jewels under his eyes twinkling softly. He left behind a bracelet of rose-petals and a matching rose wreath. The moon after brought back Ellix, this time with his ornery smirk and a kiss on your cheek before he melted into thin air.

The fluttering in your stomach every time he said something mildly flirtatious, brought out those presents, or let his touch linger for a second too long wasn’t lost to you. You’d felt floaty and obscenely happy with Felix ever since the first time you met him, the quiet nervousness melting into heady peace and teasing banter every time you met after that. When Jisung told you about the curse, the first thing you felt was a wave of concern that you knew instantly was far beyond the bounds of friendship. You wanted to find him and engulf him in your arms, hold him close and tell him he was brave, strong, more special than he allowed himself to believe. You wanted him to stay close by your side, not for one full moon night but for the rest of your lives so you could tell him every day how much he’d come to mean to you, no matter whether it was Ellix or Felix.

It was a soft, simple feeling that had taken root in your heart in the beginning of your companionship with him and had only grown larger since, pushing the limits of your heart in your affection for Felix. It wasn’t just friendship you felt for the lost boy in your garden- it was love.

“You’re lying. Tell me you’re lying.” Your hands pressed against Ellix’s chest, pushing him away from you. Your magic sparked against your fists as you advanced, Ellix’s only reaction an evil grin. “Why would I be lying, darling?” He purred, his own fingers sparking with the beginnings of a flame. You skirted the edge of the mermaid fountain, your eyes trained on him. The anger and betrayal coursing through your system had you seeing red, but you kept your voice even. “How dare you stand before me and tell me that our companionship was a fraud?”

“Oh no no, darling, I didn’t say it was a fraud,” Ellix bit back, looking like a demon set loose from the Netherworld. “I said that this friendship was a game. You let slip so many royal secrets to me, all of which will go towards the siege that the Twilight army is planning upon your kingdom.”

A snarl of outrage ripped from your throat, sparking your eyes as you stepped closer to Felix, eyes ablaze with fury. “You traitor.”

“I’m the Crown prince of Twilight Woods, Princess,” He used the same mocking tone that drove you up the wall. “I’m a royal before your little companion. Did you really think I agreed to your acquaintanceship because I appreciated your COMPANY?” Ellix spit back, his entire body betraying his disgust.

You reeled back at his words, each one of them pricking your heart with a savage sharpness. “You don’t mean that.” you breathed out, but Ellix was on a roll.

“This entire companionship was built for your desires, with none of mine taken into consideration. You’re too absorbed in yourself, with your hair and your clothes and your little kingdom that you forgot that I was a part of this friendship too. You didn’t give a single damn about me, did you?”He shouted, close enough that the two of you were almost nose to nose. You stood your ground, not wanting to seem weak. Not to him. Never to him- “ You just wanted a sweet submissive little boy from the woods to listen to you, and let me make it clear to you, princess. I am NOT IT.”

A beat of silence passed between the both of you- and then you straightened up, looking down your nose at the boy in front of you. “This companionship is terminated as of this second. I owe you nothing, as don’t you. Does that please you?” Tell me it doesn’t please you, don’t do this to my heart, Felix, please-

“Absolutely, princess-” He pressed a kiss against your cheek, a mockery of an action you’d gotten used to from Ellix. But it only served to set you off, a scream ripping from your throat. “No. You don’t get the last word on this sham of a friendship, you dirty liar. I trusted you with my life and my dreams, and this is what I get in return? You should be ashamed of yourself, Ellix.” Your voice cracked from the rage, but Ellix didn’t bat an eyelash.

“Jisung was right. You’re a monster. Begone, Ellix. Take Felix with you and never return. If you do, I will make sure the guards find a dungeon for you with your names on it.”

All you could see was the glint of his black eyes disappearing into the darkness, likely for the last time- and the only emotion you could recognize from the maelstrom in your mind was that of a broken heart.

The walk to your chambers was a demonstration in self control, eyes silvery with tears cast low and your fists clenched to prevent the scream from leaving your throat. It wasn’t until you reached your chambers that you allowed yourself to fall apart, crumbling to the ground behind your door as you hid your face in your hands- and the soft rustle of paper with the movement of your skirts catching your attention. By some sleight of hand, Ellix had slipped a letter into your pocket. While you had half a mind to feed it to the flames, the sad, sentimental side of you ripped open the thick paper, scanning the elegant scrawl dancing across the paper.

Greetings, princess.

I’m sorry I never told you the full truth.

Sana did leave one loophole. When she cursed me, she left me 50 years to find a mortal that would love and accept me for my cursed self, a mortal that would look me in the eye and admit to it. But when the complications began to happen with Ellix…There was no point hoping. I bided away 48 years, lost in self-pity and the darkness that the curse festered within me. Until I met you.

You were so beautiful in the moonlight, darling. Over time however, I came to know that it was your goodness that gave you that celestial glow- You were noble and selfless, strong yet soft, relentless in your pursuit for all the good you could bring to your loved ones.

I was smitten by you, but I couldn’t stand to taint you with the horrible scars I bring with me, darling. So I kept my secret and met you every full moon, only falling further and further with every meeting. The first time I held you in my arms, it was like a missing key had finally clicked into my locked heart and princess, I didn’t want to let go of you again. You gave me the sweetest memories in the final year of my life, and for that, princess, I will be eternally grateful.

I am but a smidgen in the glorious story that will be yours one day, even though it pains me that I will never get to be a part of it- so don’t remember me, princess. Don’t worry about me. Don’t try to save me, because I am likely already beyond the point of saving. There’s no way out for me.

The fact shall remain, as it always will in this letter, even after I’ve passed into the darkness- I love you.

I love you as misfortune loves orphans, as fire loves innocence, and as justice loves to sit and watch everything wrong. Justice has done exactly that with me, darling. It has cursed me to live my last moments away from you, lost in my own mind, my magic fighting against the curse to keep the darkness from claiming me. It is my misfortune that I met you so late into my life, but my life’s greatest honour to have known one who shines as brightly as you.

Beyond Forever,

Felix.

You scrambled to your feet and broke into a run, your skirts whipping around your ankles as you let your memory guide you, eyes blurred by the tears that streaked down your face. Ellix was trying to protect you from the pain of losing him, he loved you, he loved you, he loved you-

Slipping past the guards and into the stables, you were on a horse, riding bareback in the fastest speed you could coax from it, towards the Twilight Woods. You had time, you had to try, you couldn’t just let him die, not like this-

Before you knew it, you had reached the lake where you’d met Felix for the first time, the memory of his quicksilver smile and his golden eyes- no, one pair of golden eyes and another pair of obsidian orbs flashing across your mind before another fit of tears claimed you. If you remembered right, Jisung had mentioned you’d brushed by an entrance to the Twilight woods somewhere close by this very place-

“FELIX!!” You screamed aloud, dropping to your knees at the shore. “I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH, Please come back to me, I can’t bear the thought of losing you Felix, please-” You caught a view of your tear-streaked face in the reflection of the water, rippling softly, uncaring of your screaming.

The first rays of the morning sun began to hit the edges of the lake as you sobbed aloud, the despair setting in and burrowing deep into your chest as the moments ticked by. You scanned the horizon, desperately looking for a sign, any sign of the kingdom Jisung and Felix belonged to- and then you saw it.

In the far shore, two figures stepped into the soft morning light- both small and slight in build, dressed in whites and golds. One had hair the colour of ebony, the other hair the colour of burnished gold. You straightened up, your eyes widening as you hurriedly brushed the tears off your face.. It couldn’t be..

Both of them stepped onto the water, walking- no, running across the surface of the lake without leaving a ripple in their wake. You got to your feet, backing away from the shore as Jisung and Felix stepped off the water, their smiles brighter than the sun itself. Felix stepped towards you, his arms held out wide and you let out a quiet sob, running right into his warm embrace.

“I love you, I love you so much, thank the stars-”

“You’re here, you’re real, I love you, I adore you, princess-” Your murmurs mingled together, muffled in each other’s bodies as you clung together, scared to move away. You pulled away, your arms still looked around Felix’s shoulders and his neck, only to be met with the brightest grin you’d ever seen lighting up his face. His eyes- one gold and one black, crinkled with happy tears as his lips stretched into an ethereal smile, his hair a dishevelled mess around his ears.

Felix was the crown prince to a kingdom bathed in betrayal and grief, while you were the heiress of a kingdom that prospered from the nobility that ruled it. Felix’s cousin was likely on the way, pulling her hair out in the frustration of being ousted. You would likely face the music for screaming at a boy in the gardens and then disappearing for hours on end- but in each other’s arms, the two of you were nothing more than each other’s special little forevers.

In that moment, it was truly all that mattered.

////

Taglist: @aliceu @rebecca-noona @decembermoonskz @straykidsownmysoul @soya-zz , @stellarmonsterr @malai-barfi @fylithia @seraplantery

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Do let me know what you think! - Elliana.

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tlcwrites · 4 years ago

Text

Worth It

Summary:

Poe would never, ever forget how his mom had squeezed him ever so slightly tighter, dropped a kiss to his messy curls, and sighed, almost to herself, “This is what makes it all worth it.”

Now, on the other side of his own war, his own child snuggled securely on his lap, Poe gets it.

Word Count: 1226

Tags/Warnings: Dad!Poe; Poe Dameron/Fem Reader; pregnancy; Family Dameron adorableness out the wazoo; sooooo much fluff.

Author’s Note: So this happened because my 3-year-old son’s favorite thing to do is ‘play’ Minecraft with his dad. He will snuggle with my husband, both of them staring at that stupid computer for hours, and my husband loves it just as much as our son. Today was no exception. They got ‘creepered’ and I’m telling you, there is nothing like the sound of a toddler belly laughing to make your day better. Of course, because #me, I couldn’t stop thinking about Poe sharing his favorite hobby with his own kid. So here you go. I apologize for the typos because I wrote this in about thirty minutes, but I make no apologies for the cavities that may or may not result from consuming this fluff.

*I know there’s something about Poe’s earliest memory of flying with Shara in the Flight Log, but my copy isn’t getting here until Sunday and I was too impatient to get this done to wait for the details, so any discrepancies with canon are my fault and tbh IDGAF.

Poe’s not entirely certain what his earliest memory of his mom is; he’s pretty sure it was the first time Shara took him past atmo into space, but it’s hard to trust a toddler’s memory. Regardless, he knows his favorite.

He was four, and Shara had taken him up in her beloved RZ-1 A-wing interceptor. It wasn’t anywhere near the first time he’d flown with her, perched on her lap, her helmet completely swallowing his head but loving every second of ‘piloting’ the fighter. They flew together most days. Just keeping an eye on the neighborhood, Shara would say, with a wink for her son and a laugh as she pressed a kiss to Kes’ cheek as they clomped back into the house, breathless and euphoric from being airborne.

But that time was special. That time, Shara had woken him up before the dawn and bundled him in her worn green flight jacket, whispering that she had a surprise for him. He remembers waving to his dad, silhouetted by the porch light as the A-wing took flight, rising into the pre-dawn sky.

That was the first morning Poe had ever watched the sun rise from the air. He remembers every detail; from the condensation on the canopy of the ship, to the way the sunlight had slowly filtered over the mountains surrounding the Dameron homestead. It was breathtaking. To a four-year-old, it was life altering. And Poe would never, ever forget how his mom had squeezed him ever so slightly tighter, dropped a kiss to his messy curls, and sighed, almost to herself, “This is what makes it all worth it.”

Now, on the other side of his own war, his own child snuggled securely on his lap, Poe gets it.

Beka Dameron squeals with delight as the X-Wing bursts through the cloud cover, those same mountains still steadfast guardians around her grandfather’s ranch. Poe can’t help his grin. His daughter’s glee is infectious.

“What do you think, babygirl?” he asks the two-year-old, leaning forward and blowing a raspberry on her cheek. She giggles and he beams. “Should we chase the sunrise and bring it home to Mama?”

“Woop, Daddy!” Beka smacks the flight stick with a chubby fist. “Go woop-woop!”

“Alright, princess, one loop-loop comin’ right up.” Poe flicks a switch and drops a kiss on Beka’s curly mop. “Beebee, you heard the lady!”

From the astromech socket, BB-8 chirps their approval of this plan. Granted, there’s very little the droid wouldn’t do for any of the Damerons, but Beka’s wishes are BB’s commands.

It’s a split second, as his daughter laughs and the sunrise hits the mountain ridge just right, in the stillness before he spins the fighter into motion, that Poe is struck by the strongest sense of deja vu. His throat is suddenly tight and he has to blink rapidly because his eyes are abruptly watery.

This is what makes it all worth it.

Yeah, he definitely gets it.

Tightening his arm around his daughter, Poe whoops. Beka echoes his joyful cry, and the fighter leaps towards the dawn.

On the ground, you watch the X-wing formerly known as Black One as it dips in and out of view through the clouds. You’re positive you can hear your daughter’s giggles from where you stand, as well as her father’s throaty laugh.

Behind you, the kitchen door opens.

“How long have they been up there?” Kes asks, joining you on the porch.

“Not long.” You smile at your father-in-law. “Poe wanted to see the sunrise.”

“He’s his mother’s son, that’s for sure,” he says with an affectionate chuckle, handing you a steaming cup of nysillim tea. “Always in a better mood after starting the day in the air.”

You accept the mug with murmured thanks, both of you watching contentedly as the fighter appears once more below the morning haze.

It’s barely a moment before Poe is expertly landing the fighter in the clearing behind the house. Kes takes your mug before he helps you off the porch, and you both stroll to the makeshift flight pad. The first streams of morning light start to break through the clouds as the ship powers down.

“Mama!” Beka hollers the second the canopy lifts. “Mama, Bee bwaught you sunshine!”

“Yeah, Mama,” Poe echos, carefully tossing the toddler down into Kes’ waiting arms. Beka’s joyful shriek makes everyone smile even bigger. “Had to chase some of those clouds off.”

You laugh as Beka flops backwards in Kes’ arms, her curls dangling as she hangs upside down. You bend to kiss her forehead. “You did great, honey. Did you fly Daddy’s ship for him?”

“Yeah!” Beka giggles. “We did woop-woops!”

You turn to your husband as he scrambles down the flight ladder. “Is that so?”

“Princess, we talked about this.” Poe tickles Beka with one hand, wrapping his other arm around your shoulders. “What happens in the cockpit stays in the cockpit.”

“Oh really?” you murmur quietly.

Poe winks at you. “All woop-woops were conducted under the strictest of safety procedures, Lieutenant. General’s honor.”

BB-8, now freed from the fighter, whistles knowingly.

You raise an eyebrow.

Poe glares at the droid. “Traitor.”

“How about some Iktotch toast for breakfast?” Kes asks Beka, smoothly changing the topic before you and Poe can get going. “Pop’s got zoochberry syrup!”

Beka nearly leaps out of her grandfather’s arms. “ZOOBURYS.”

Laughing, Kes leads the way back to the farmhouse, BB-8 trailing the pair of them like a puppy. As you go to follow, Poe tugs gently on your hand, holding you back.

“You know I’d never put her in danger, right?” he asks quietly.

“Oh, Poe.” You bring a hand up to card your fingers through his hair, and he leans into your palm with a contented sigh. “Of course I know that.”

“Just making sure.” He smiles, that half smirk that is your absolute favorite. “How are you feeling?”

You take his hand and position it carefully on the swollen rise of your belly. “She’s been dancing this morning.”

“Yeah?” It only takes a moment before his eyes widen and he lets out a bark of laughter as a foot connects soundly with his palm. “She’s so strong!”

“I’m aware,” you intone wryly. “This one’s got your sass already.”

He laughs again, wisely not arguing (because it’s not like you’re wrong), instead pulling you into his arms and kissing you soundly. You stand as the sky glows from pink to blue, wrapped in each other in the early morning air, until something small hits your legs.

“DADDY. MAMA.” Beka makes the universal toddler sign for ‘up’. “Eye-tot toast! Papa says now!”

“Okay, okay, princess!” Releasing you with one last kiss to your temple, Poe scoops up your daughter, tossing her into the air before settling her on his shoulders. Grinning at you, he wraps his arm back around your shoulders, tugging you securely into his side. “Team Dameron is on the move.”

Beka’s giggles echo through the clearing as you make your way up the gentle rise towards the house. And with his wife and his daughter in his arms, and another kid on the way, Poe can’t help that tightness in his throat again. He’s not even aware of the smile on his face.

This is what makes it all worth it.

Boy, if that’s not the truth.

#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron #poe dameron fic #poe dameron x female reader #poe dameron imagine #my writing #fluff #fluff alert #dad!poe #dad poe dameron #dameron family

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themousefromfantasyland · 4 years ago

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The Tale of the Dead Princess and the Seven Knights

Or, russian Snow White and the seven Bogatyrs, legendary slavic warriors, similar to the knight-errant in Western tradition

This is a 1833 poem by russian poet Aleksandr Pushkin, inspired by the childhood tales told by his nurse. It's basically russian Snow White, been astonishly closer to the Disney film than the original Brothers Grimm's fairy tale

With his suite the Tsar departed. The Tsarina tender-hearted at the window sat alone, wishing he would hurry home.

All day every day she waited, gazing till her dedicated eyes grew weak from overstrain, gazing at the empty plain. Not a sign of her beloved!

Nothing but the snowflakes hurried, heaping drifts upon the lea. Earth was white as white could be. Nine long months she sat and waited, kept her vigil unabated.

Then from God on Christmas Eve, she a daughter did receive. Next day early in the morning, love and loyalty rewarding. Home again from travel far, came at last the father-Tsar.

One fond glance at him she darted, gasped for joy with thin lips parted. Then fell back upon her bed and by prayer-time was dead.

Long the Tsar sat lonely, brooding. But he, too, was only human.

Tears for one sad year he shed... And another woman wed.

She (if one be strictly truthful) was a born Tsarina. Youthful, slim, tall, fair to look upon. Clever, witty, and so on.

But she was in equal measure stubborn, haughty, wilful, jealous. In her dowry rich and vast was a little looking-glass.

It had this unique distinction: It could speak with perfect diction. Only with this glass would she in a pleasant humour be.

Many times a day she'd greet it and coquettishly entreat it:

"Tell me, pretty looking-glass, nothing but the truth, I ask: Who in all the world is fairest, and has beauty of the rarest?"

And the looking-glass replied:

"You, it cannot be denied. You in all the world are fairest and your beauty is the rarest."

The Tsarina laughed with glee, shrugged her shoulders merrily, puffed her cheeks and bat her eyelids, flicked her fingers coyly, slyly, pranced around with hand on hips, arrogance upon her lips.

All this time the Tsar's own daughter quietly, as Nature taught her, grew and grew, and came quite soon like a flower into bloom: Raven-browed, of fair complexion, breathing kindness and affection.

And the choice of fiance lighted on Prince Yelisei. Suit was made. The Tsar consented and her dowry was indented:

Seven towns with wealthy store. Mansion-houses, sevenscore. On the night before the wedding, for a bridal party dressing, the Tsarina, time to pass, chatted with her looking-glass:

"Who in all the world is fairest, and has beauty of the rarest?"

Then what did the glass reply?

"You are fair, I can't deny. But the Princess is the fairest. And her beauty is the rarest."

Up the proud Tsarina jumped. On the table how she thumped, angrily the mirror slapping, slipper heel in fury tapping!

"O you loathsome looking-glass, telling lies as bold as brass! By what right is she my rival?Such young folly I shall bridle. So she's grown up? Me to spite! Little wonder she's so white: With her bulging mother gazing. At that snow?What's so amazing! Now look here, explain to me. How can she the fairer be? Scour this realm of ours and seek well, nowhere shall you find my equal. Is not that the truth?" she cried.

Still the looking-glass replied:

"But the Princess is the fairest and her beauty is the rarest."

The Tsarina burst with spite, hurled the mirror out of sight, underneath the nearest cupboard, and when breath she had recovered, summoned Smudge, her chamber maid and to her instructions gave:

"Take the Princess to the forest. Bind her hand and foot and forehead to a tree! When wolves arrive let them eat the girl alive!"

Woman's wrath would daunt the devil! Protest was no use whatever.

Soon the Princess left with Smudge for the woods. So far they trudged that the Princess guessed the reason. Scared to death by such foul treason, loud she pleaded:

"Spare my life! Innocent of guilt am I! Do not kill me, I beseech you! And when I become Tsarina I shall give you rich reward."

Smudge, who really loved her ward, being loth to kill or bind her, let her go, remarking kindly:

"God be with you! Do not moan!"

And, this said, went back alone.

"Well?" demanded the Tsarina. "Where's that pretty little creature?"

"In the forest on her own," Smudge replied. "And there she'll stay. To a tree I firmly lashed her. When a hungry beast attacks her, she'll have little time to cry, and the quicker she shall die!"

Rumour spread and caused a panic: "What, the Tsar's own daughter vanished!"

Mournful was the Tsar that day, but the young Prince Yelisei offered God a fervent prayer and departed then and there, to seek out and homeward guide, his sweet-tempered, youthful bride.

Meanwhile his young bride kept walking through the forest until morning, vague as to her whereabouts.

Suddenly she spied a house. Out a dog ran growling, yapping, then sat down, his tail tap-tapping. At the gate there was no guard. All was quiet in the yard.

Close at heel the good dog bounded as the Princess slowly mounted stairs to gain the living floor, turned the ring upon the door.

Silently the door swung open and before her eyes unfolded a bright chamber: all around benches strewn with rugs she found, board of oak beneath the ikon and a stove with tiles to lie on.

To the Princess it was clear, kindly folk were dwelling here, who would not deny her shelter.

No one was at home, however. So she set to, cleaned the pans, made the whole house spick and span, lit a candle in the corner, fed the fire to be warmer, climbed onto the platform bed, there to lay her sleepy head.

Dinner time. The yard resounded, horses stamped and men dismounted. Thick-moustached and ruddy-skinned, seven lusty Knights walked in.

Said the Eldest: "How amazing! All so neat! The fire blazing! Somebody's been cleaning here, and is waiting somewhere near. Who is there? Come out of hiding! Be a friend in peace abiding! If you're someone old and hoar, be our uncle evermore! If you're young and love a scuffle.We'll embrace you as a brother. If a venerable dame, then shall 'mother' be your name. If a maiden fair, we'll call you our dear sister and adore you."

So the Princess rose, came down to the Seven Knights and bowed. Her good wishes emphasising, blushing and apologising that to their delightful home uninvited she had come.

Straight they saw her speech bore witness to the presence of a Princess.

So they cleared a corner seat, offered her a pie with meat, filled a glass with wine and served it on a tray, as she deserved it.

But the glass of heady wine she politely did decline, and the pie she broke with caution, savouring a tiny portion.

Pleading she was very tired, soon she gracefully retired and the Seven Knights conveyed her to the best and brightest chamber and, away as they did creep, she was falling fast asleep.

Days flew by? The Princess living all the time without misgiving, in the forest, never bored, with the Seven Knights abroad.

Darkness would the earth still cover when at dawn the seven brothers would ride out to try their luck with a long-bow, shooting duck.

She, as lady of the house, rose much later, moved about dusting, polishing and cooking, never once the Knights rebuking. They, too, never chided her. Days flew by like gossamer.

And in time they grew to love her. Thereupon all seven brothers, shortly after dawn one day, to her chamber made their way, and the Eldest Knight addressed her:

"As you know, you are our sister. But all seven of us here are in love with you, my dear, and we all desire your favours. But that must not be. God save us! Find some way to give us peace! Be a wife to one at least, to the rest remain a sister! But you shake your head. Is this to say our offer you refuse? Nothing from our stock you'll choose?"

"O my brave and bonny brothers, virtuous beyond all others!"

In reply the Princess'said, "God in heaven strike me dead if my answer be not honest: I've no choice. My hand is promised! You're all equal in my eyes, all so valiant and wise, and I love you all, dear brothers! But my heart is to another pledged for evermore. One day I shall wed Prince Yelisei!"

Hushed, the brothers kept their station, scratched their foreheads in frustration.

"As you wish! So now we know," said the Eldest with a bow.

"Pray, forgive us, and I promise you'll hear nothing further from us!"

"I'm not angry," she replied. "By my pledge I must abide."

Bowing low, the seven suitors left her room with passions muted. So in harmony again did they live and friendship reign.

The Tsarina was still livid, every time she saw in vivid memory the Princess fair.

Long the mirror, lying there, was the object of her hatred;

But at last her wrath abated. So one day it came to pass, that she took the looking-glass, up again and sat before it, smiled and, as before, implored it:

"Greetings, pretty looking-glass! Tell me all the truth, I ask: Who in all the world is fairest, and has beauty of the rarest?"

Said the mirror in reply:

"You are fair, I can't deny. But where Seven Knights go riding, in a green oak-grove residing, humbly lives a person who is more beautiful than you."

The Tsarina's wrath descended on her maid: "What folly tempted you to lie? You disobeyed!"

Smudge a full confession made...

Uttering a threat of torture, the Tsarina grimly swore to send the Princess to her death, or not draw another breath.

One day by her window waiting for her brothers homeward hasting, sat the young Princess and span.

Suddenly the dog began barking. Through the courtyard scurried a poor beggar-woman, worried by the dog she kept at bay with her stick.

"Don't go away! Stay there, stay!" the Princess shouted, from the window leaning outward.

"Let me call the dog to heel, and I'll offer you a meal."

And the beggar-woman answered: "Pretty child, you take my fancy! For that dog of yours, you see, could well be the death of me. See him snarling, bristling yonder! Come here, child!"

The Princess wanted to go out, and took a loaf. But the dog its body wove round her feet, refused to let her step towards the woman-beggar.

When the woman, too, drew near, wilder than an angry bear, it ttacked her. How perplexing!

"Had a bad night's sleep, I reckon!" Said the Princess. "Catch it! There!"

And the bread flew through the air. The poor beggar-woman caught it.

"I most humbly thank you, daughter, God be merciful!" said she. "In return take this from me!"

The bright apple she was holding, newly picked, fresh, ripe and golden, straight towards the Princess flew...

How the dog leapt in pursuit! But the Princess neatly trapped it in her palms.

"Enjoy the apple at you leisure, little pet! Thank you for the loaf of bread..."

Said the beggar-woman, brandished in the air her stick and vanished...

Up the stairs the Princess ran with the dog, which then began pitifully staring, whining, just as if its heart were pining for the gift of speech to say: "Throw that apple far away!"

Hastily his neck she patted: "Hey, Sokolko, what's the matter? Lie down!"

Entering once more her own room, she shut the door, sat there with her spindle humming, waiting for her brothers' coming.

But she could not take her gaze from the apple where it lay, full of fragrance, rosy, glowing, fresh and juicy, ripe and golden, sweet as honey to the lips! She could even see the pips...

First the Princess thought of waiting until dinner. But temptation proved too strong. She grasped the bright apple, took a stealthy bite and with fair cheek, sweetly hollowed a delicious morsel swallowed.

All at once her breathing stopped, listlessly her white arms dropped. From her lap the rosy apple tumbled to the floor. The hapless maiden closed her swooning eyes, reeled and fell without a cry, on the bench her forehead striking, then lay still beneath the ikon...

Now the brothers, as it chanced, were returning in a band from another warlike foray. Out to meet them in the forest, went the dog and, running hard, led them straight into the yard.

Said the Knights: "An evil omen! Grief in store!"

The door they opened, walked into the room and gasped. But the dog like lightning dashed for the apple and devoured it. Death that instant overpowered it. For the apple was, they saw, filled with poison to the core.

By the dead Princess the brothers bent their heads in tears and uttered holy prayer to save her soul; Nothing could their grief console.

From the bench they raised her, dressed her, wished within a grave to rest her. Then had second thoughts. For she was as rosy as if sleep. Garlands of repose were wreathing round her, though she was not breathing.

Three whole days they waited, but still her eyes were tightly shut.

So that night with solemn ritual, in a coffin made of crystal, they laid out the body fair of the Princess and from there, to a hollow mountain bore her, where a tomb they fashioned for her:

Iron chains they used to fix her glass case to pillars six. With due caution, and erected iron railings to protect it.

Then the Eldest smote his breast, and the dead Princess addressed:

"Ever peaceful be your slumber! Though your days were few in number On this earth spite took its toll? Yet shall heaven have your soul. With pure love did we regard you, for your loved one did we guard you, but you came not to the groom, only to a chill dark tomb."

That same day the bad Tsarina, waiting for good news to reach her, secretly the mirror took and her usual question put:

"Who is now by far the fairest, and has beauty of the rarest?"

And the answer satisfied:

"You, it cannot be denied. You in all the world are fairest. And your beauty is the rarest!"

In pursuit of his sweet bride, through the country far and wide, still Prince Yelisei goes riding, weeping bitterly. No tidings!

For no matter whom he asks, people either turn their backs, or most rudely rock with laughter: No one knows what he is after.

Now to the bright Sun in zeal, did the bold young Prince appeal:

"Sun, dear Sun! The whole year coursing through the sky, in springtime thawing from the chill earth winter snow! You observe us all below. Surely you'll not grudge an answer? Tell me, did you ever chance to see the Princess I revere? I'm her fiance." "My dear,"

Said the Sun with some insistence, "I have nowhere seen your Princess, so she's dead, we must presume. That is, if my friend, the Moon, has not met her on his travels, or seen clues you may unravel."

Through the dark night Yelisei, feeling anything but gay, with a lover's perseverance, waited for the Moon's appearance.

"Moon, O Moon, my friend!" he said. "Gold of horn and round of head, from the darkest shadows rising, with your eye the world apprising. You whom stars with love regard as you mount your nightly guard! Surely you'll not grudge an answer? Tell me, did you ever chance to see the Princess I revere? I'm her fiance." "O dear!"

Said the Moon in consternation,

"No, I have not seen the maiden. On my round I only go, when it is my turn, you know.

It would seem that I was resting, when she passed." "How very vexing!"

Cried aloud Prince Yelisei. But the Moon went on to say:

"Wait a minute! I suggest you have the Wind come to the rescue. Call him now! It's worth a try. And cheer up a bit! Goodbye!"

Yelisei, not losing courage, to the Wind's abode now hurried.

"Wind, O Wind! Lord of the sky, herding flocks of clouds on high. Stirring up the dark-blue ocean, setting all the air in motion. Unafraid of anyone, saving God in heaven alone! Surely you'll not grudge an answer? Tell me, did you ever chance to see the Princess I revere? I'm her fiance." "O hear!"

Said the Wind in turmoil blowing.

"Where a quiet stream is flowing, stands a mountain high and steep. In it lies a cavern deep; In this cave in shadows dismal, sways a coffin, made of crystal. Hung by chains from pillars six. Round it barren land in which no man ever meets another. In that tomb your bride discover!"

With a howl the Wind was gone. Yelisei wept loud and long. To the barren land he journeyed, desperately, sadly yearning, once again to see his bride.

On he rode. A mountain high rose before him, soaring steeply fom a land laid waste completely.

At its foot, an entrance dim. Yelisei went quickly in. There, he saw, in shadows dismal swayed a coffin made of crystal, where the Princess lay at rest, in the deep sleep of the blest. And the Prince in tears dissolving threw himself upon the coffin...

And it broke!

The maiden straight came to life, sat up, in great wonder looked about and yawning as she set her bed see-sawing, said with pretty arms outstretched:

"Gracious me! How long I've slept!"

Down she stepped from out the coffin. O the sighing and the sobbing! Carrying his bride, he strode back to daylight. Home they rode, making pleasant conversation, till they reached their destination.

Swiftly rumour spread around:

"The Princess is safe and sound!"

It so happened the Tsarina in her room was idly seated by her magic looking-glass, and to pass the time did ask:

"Who in all the world is fairest, and has beauty of the rarest?"

Said the mirror in reply:

"You are fair, I can't deny, but the Princess is the fairest, and her beauty is the rarest!"

The Tsarina leapt and smashed on the floor her looking-glass.

Rushing to the door she saw the fair young Princess walk towards her.

Overcome by grief and spite, the Tsarina died that night.

From the grave where she was buried, to a wedding people hurried, for the good Prince Yelisei wed his Princess that same day.

Never since the World's creation, was there such a celebration; I was there, drank mead and yet, barely got my whiskers wet.

#snow white #fairy tales #russian fairy tales

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jinterlude · 4 years ago

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Protecting Each Other

↳ Header created by the amazingly talented @kimtaehyunq from the BHQ’s Banner Request Board.

—Pairing: Seokjin x OC (Sumin) —Genre(s): The Last of US!AU, Zombie Apocalypse!AU, Fluff, Romance, Angst, Fantasy, Slight-Action, & Slight-Humor —Warning(s) / Rating: zombies, semi-graphic description of violence (mainly shooting and killing zombies), weapons (guns and a sword), light graphic description of injuries, blood, brief mentions/hints of deaths of a loved one, light suggestive moments (mainly making out), & swearing / 18+ —Word Count: 16K —Summary: In just one year, the virus swept the planet, destroying everything and everyone in its path and drastically changing the world. However, at least one thing is for certain—Seokjin & Sumin will always have each other.

—A/N: The moment you guys have been waiting for! It is the release of my BB Summer Collaboration Fic! Cue the cheers and confetti! I’m quite proud of myself with how this turned out! I would like to thank my soup friend and forever my number one supporter, Jey @softjeon. It is because of her that this story even came to be the way it is, so this story is dedicated to her.

↬ It is also dedicated to my amazing people: @jinned, @hobiance, @j-sope, @mindays, @ppersonna, @miamorjoon, @parksfilter, & @mygsii. Thank you guys for supporting me and just cheering me on when I needed it. You are truly one of a kind. ↫

» Feedback is always appreciated and thanks for giving my story a chance!

Destruction. That single word echoed in Sumin's mind frequently—on an endless loop. The faint smell of burnt and decaying flesh invaded her poor nostrils as the exhausted young woman carefully maneuvered around the lifeless bodies. Her eyes surveyed her current surroundings, noting how colorless the world had become. How the suffocating silence circled her, engulfing her entire body. Oh, how she missed the times where the sounds of laughter and lively chatter greeted her like a dear old friend. Instead, it was either the painful silence or agonizing screams that said, "hello," to her.

No longer did she see the vibrant colors that caught her attention before the outbreak began. Shifting her gaze downwards, she noted her attire. A faint yet amused smirk formed on her lips as she thought about the irony of her previous observation. She, too, no longer wore bright colors. Now, she wore all black from head to toe.

Her leather jacket? Black.

Her shredded jeans? Black.

Shoes? Black.

Every article of clothing that covered her bruised and wounded body was dark. Well, at least she'd be ready to pay her respects if someone close to her tragically died.

Now, standing in front of a man, who's currently crouched down catching his breath, Sumin remained on high alert. Her right hand gripped the hilt of her Japanese sword to the point that her knuckles turned white. Meanwhile, her left hand held the trusty semi-automatic pistol in front of her. Her index finger rested nicely on the trigger—ready to pull it back at even the faintest snarl heard. She needed to be prepared to fall into action. She couldn’t afford to falter because if she did, then it would cost her significantly. Her hesitation would cost her the life of the person who was the keeper of her heart. She would lose her long-time companion—Seokjin.

Protecting that man was the reason she needed to stay alive. Sadly, he was her only reason to do so. Her family and friends had tragically died one-by-one over the years. To be exact, it was ten years. Ten fucking years since this outbreak came into the picture. Ten fucking years since the zombie attack destroyed any ounce of normalcy she established since she was a child. Then, in a blink of an eye, it was gone, vanished with a snap of someone's fingers.

Only her boyfriend remained by her side, and the protective young woman prepared to do everything and anything to ensure it stayed that way.

As Sumin continued to stare into the fog, searching for any strange shadows, her eyes picked up a faint sound. Her breath hitched as she clutched her weapons, prepared to attack at any second. Suddenly, she felt a presence behind her. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a hand. Without a second thought, she swiftly turned around, pointing her pistol at the person's forehead. At the same time, the blade of her sword pressed into the intruder's neck.

But then, she dropped her weapons, both of the lethal items dangled by her side. A long sigh of relief exited her lips as the exhausted Sumin gave the person a dirty look.

"Jesus, Seokjin. I could've easily slaughtered you. You know that right." She scolded the young man, who only chuckled in response, which further irritated her.

Seokjin wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close as he planted a sweet kiss on her temple.

Sumin grimaced and pushed him away, "Ew. I'm all sweaty and bloodied up, Jinnie. No kissing until you and I shower," and just as she finished her statement, she dreaded it instantly. This sense of mischievousness twinkled in his eyes. His lips formed this playful smirk.

Oh, boy. Those two features never made a great combination in Sumin's book. If anything, what came next always left her either a blushing mess that couldn't string a coherent sentence together or chasing the idiot and threatening to punch him.

Silently, she prayed it would be the latter. Sumin wanted to make sure that she could still punch an undead person.

"Jinnie..." She began, forcing a sweet smile on her filthy face, "You better choose your next words carefully or else."

Seokjin's smirk grew, "I don't know what you're talking about sweetheart," He took a step forward, "I was about to suggest something that any loving boyfriend would do for his wonderful girlfriend." He shrugged as his eyes flickered towards Sumin for a moment.

Sumin's breath hitched but soon composed herself.

"Oh, so that's how he wants to play. Game on, Jinnie boy..." She amusingly thought, nodding her head slowly as an alluring smile crept on her face.

Without any warning, Sumin turned the pistol's safety on and tried to fire the gun as a precaution. She then tucked the firearm away in her thigh holster. She secured her prized weapon in its confinement, whistling softly to herself.

As she did that, this unsettling sensation washed over Seokjin's body. His heart raced as if he ran away from a hoard of starving zombies. He suddenly felt parched as Sumin continued to instill fear in him. Her body crouched as she tightened the shoelaces on her boots. How completely still she was as she did something so minuscule. His eyes continued studying her body language, noting how completely balanced she was. He subtly tilted his head, hoping to get a better look at his princess.

"Speaking of ass..." His eyes drifted down Sumin's back, but he forced himself out his unholy thoughts, "Wait, now is not the time to be checking out your girlfriend, Seokjin." He shook his head furiously. His ears perked up at the random sound Sumin made as she stood up. She dusted off her torn jeans before turning her body towards him. An overly sweet smile greeted the scared man.

Seokjin flashed a smile, chuckling nervously at her as he swallowed his saliva; his Adam's apple bobbed a few times. Sadly, it only made him thirstier.

His tongue swept the bottom of his dry lips. Then, he spoke,

"Princess," He began, clearing his dry throat, "Are you preparing for another battle with the undead?" A nervous chuckle escaped his lips, "You know, the more you whistle, the more anxious I become. Do you want that, Sumin? Do you want to be dealing with a nervous boyfriend while we fight for our lives? I think not!" He finished his rather dramatic yet short monologue.

Sumin's face went poker-faced as she nodded her head slowly. No words escaped her lips, maintaining the eerie silence that surrounds the environment. Her eyes narrowed as she homed in on her target. She cracked her neck, releasing the tension in her muscles as she took a step toward the poor man.

As she stepped forward, Seokjin stepped backward. The attractive couple continued this rather odd dance for a few minutes until - suddenly - Seokjin grabbed his pack and bolted away from the menacing young lady.

Sumin bolted after him, shouting at him to stop being such a coward and face her like a real man. Though, she was careful not to alert any enemies of their presence. The last thing she wanted to deal with, on top of Seokjin behaving like a child, was a mob of ravenous zombies.

Yup...definitely not on her nonexistent to-do list.

With her lungs practically begging for air, Sumin refused to let that man escape her grasps. She easily dodged the low hanging branches while keeping her eye on the prize. The prize of closing the gap between her and Seokjin, so she could punch the living shit out of him. What made the situation funnier was that Seokjin taunted her endlessly. Each insult that spewed out of that gorgeous man's mouth fueled her desire - that competitive drive - to tackle him to cold hard concrete.

Then, as if God answered her wish, Sumin's eyes gleamed with excitement as she focused her attention on his perfectly still body.

"HA! I knew you'd stop being such a little bitch and take my punch like a mature adult!" She exclaimed as she jogged up to him. Just as she drew back her fist, she swiftly caught on to Seokjin's odd expression. No longer did he wear this playful mask but now dawned an emotion that Sumin thought she'd never see again.

Complete and utter disbelief.

Carefully, Sumin placed a warm hand on the young man's broad shoulder; her eyes dripped with concern.

"Jinnie..." The concerned lady began but was soon interrupted.

"Do you know where we are, Sumin?"

"I...uh..."

"Imagine everything lit up. The entrance sign lit so brightly that blinded anyone who dared to stare directly at it. Now, add the sounds of the arcade and carnival games going off every second as loud chatter mixes in with the lively atmosphere. Children that scattered all over the fairgrounds as they ran towards their parents, screaming from excitement as they begged their parents to win them yet another gigantic stuffed animal."

Sumin still didn't quite understand what Seokjin was talking about until he said,

"Look at the broken-down stand in the far-right corner," He pointed in that specific direction, "You see those beaten up stuffed animals?" He asked as he intertwined their fingers together. He then guided the two of them towards the row of carnival games. The unhappy pair carefully maneuvered around the fallen debris, planning their steps accordingly. The last thing they wanted to do was deal with one of them having a broken ankle.

The more Seokjin and Sumin adventured down the row of destroyed carnival games, the more Sumin's face became solemn as sadness washed over her entire body. Her jaw clenched, and her breath hitched. She couldn't believe it. She took in every single torn down - practically shredded - dull banners as she passed the poorly maintained game stands. The same game stands she and Seokjin used to frequent every summer and the reason she came home with a massive pile of stuffed animals. It was thanks to that lovesick fool that she no longer had space in her closet for her cuddly friends. At the same time, it was because of those soft stuffed animals that got her hooked on Seokjin's charms in the first place.

God, the more she reminisced about her countless summer spent at this fair, the more she became depressed. However, she couldn't stop thinking about those specific moments in her life. After all, those days led her to the man that she absolutely could never imagine living her life without him.

"I wonder if this place was the first to go?" asked Sumin, voicing her innermost thoughts as her doe-like gaze switched to Seokjin. She noted how tight his jaw was as if he tried his hardest to maintain his composure.

"I hope not..." He trailed on as he continued to survey his surroundings, "Though, it wouldn't surprise me if it was since the annual summer fair always drew in a massive crowd." He finished, letting out a soft, airy chuckle.

The corners of her lips curved upward as Sumin read his mind.

"Yeah. Kind of how it drew us together for the very first time, right?"

"What do you mean, kind of drew us together? It matched two beautiful people together."

Sumin's face fell, "Are you sure? Because I remember our fateful meeting quite differently."

Seokjin gawked. He couldn't believe the words that came out of his princess' mouth.

"Oh, do tell how that day went, then, Minnie

"Gladly...!" She exclaimed with an intriguing twinkle in the corner of her eyes.

Seokjin scoffed playfully, "Oh, I can't wait to hear this."

The petite young female shot an irritated look at the attractive man before beginning her tale.

"Well, as you know, it started on that Friday evening. You had just gotten out of her last class of the week and..." Sumin trailed on. Her words echoed in the back of Seokjin's mind as he, too, recalled their meeting so vividly.

For the twentieth time that evening, Sumin checked her appearance using her front-facing camera. Her trembling hands ran through her beach curled hair, positioning it in a way that made her look charming yet radiated innocence. It wasn't every day that she was set up on a blind date by a good friend of hers. However, she wasn't a stranger to the dating scene, so why did she feel so damn nervous? Why did her heart pound against her chest as if she ran from her house to the fairgrounds?

Suddenly a look of complete and utter dread washed over her face as this horrendous thought implanted itself in her frenzied mind. Without a second thought, Sumin subtly smelled herself, praying to every God known to man that her sweet rose perfume still lingered around her body. She sneakily raised her arms and took a quick whiff under her armpits.

"Oh, thank God. My tropical fruit-scented deodorant is still working." She thought as this massive sigh of relief exited her lips. She dropped her arm, and as she raised her head, her eyes went round. Her breath hitched as this feeling of embarrassment hit her like a tidal wave.

"Please don't be my blind date. Please don't be my blind date." She repeatedly chanted as a drop-dead gorgeous man started walking up to her. With every footstep, he slowly closed the gap between them, and as he closed that distance, Sumin's anxiety increased. The butterflies in the pit of her stomach flew into a flurry, which only caused the poor young girl to smile nervously. She also chuckled softly as she awkwardly waved her hand.

"Great. Now, that handsome fellow is going to think I'm this huge doofus." She mused as she quickly mustered the sweetest smile and introduced herself.

"Nice to meet you, Sumin. I'm Seokjin, but my friends call me Worldwide Handsome." The handsome fellow greeted back, playfully winking at her as he displayed this thousand-watt smile.

Sumin became lost for words. She slightly parted her mouth as she wrapped her mind around the fact that this attractive man seriously said that his friends called him "Worldwide Handsome." Her eyes flickered with annoyance before switching back to politeness.

But before she could ask him if he was serious, Seokjin beat her to it.

"I'm kidding. My friends don't call me that," Another wave of relief washed over Sumin, but once she heard Seokjin's next sentence, that moment of peace was over, "I call myself that. I've been spending my entire high school career trying to get my tasteless friends to admit that I'm good looks are enough for me to hold the title of 'Worldwide Handsome.'"

Out of nowhere, Sumin felt a slight twitch in her right eye. Her body heated up. Her breathing grew heavy as her nostrils flared slightly.

Yeah, they didn't even get past the formalities., and his words ended the date right there.

As the irked young lady opened her mouth, ready to apologize to him that she wanted to end the date, a high-pitch noise emitted from his lips. It was almost as if she activated her car's windshield wipers.

"Oh, my God, I can't keep this charade up any longer," He paused, continuing his fit of laughter. The laughter grew too much for him as he clutched the sides of his stomach. "Congrats, princess. You passed." He vaguely announced, further irritating Sumin.

The serious honey-brown haired woman stared at the tall immature man through slit eyes. Her mind battled if she should ask him to clarify or not. Part of her - scratch that - most of her wanted to go home, but, sadly, the curious side got the best of her, so she asked Seokjin what he meant by his strange words.

The towering, well-dressed man cleared his throat, "Well, my young and surprisingly beautiful princess, what I meant is that you passed the, 'can this potential girlfriend handle my arrogant side and be honest with her reaction rather be fake?' test." He answered, keeping this calm tone of voice.

Suddenly, Seokjin shot Sumin with a playful wink, as he dug out his wallet from the pocket of his light pastel blue zipper hooded sweatshirt. A faint, "ah-ha," escaped his plump lips as he waved his black leather wallet in front of the unamused female.

Sumin raised her brow, finding Seokjin's actions odd and silently berating herself for not going home yet. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but something in the back of her head told her to continue humoring the princely idiot.

Her conscience had better be right.

"Is that your hint that you want me to pay for our entrance tickets?" inquired Sumin as she prepared to dig for her wallet in her cotton candy-colored purse. However, as her fingertips grazed the zipper of the wallet, Seokjin gently grasped her wrists. For a split second, a single strand of electricity shot up through her right arm, igniting the nerves that laid beneath.

The longer Seokjin touched her wrist, the more Sumin's cheeks became heated. Just this once, Sumin was glad that it was Summer. She could easily blame the heat on her flushed cheeks, and not the fact that she felt this unspeakable spark between them.

Not wanting to become a blushing mess, Sumin gently tore her hand away from his grasp—much to Seokjin's dismay. Unknown to her, but he felt that spark as well. Never in his years of dating other women did he feel the same that Sumin did. The kicker was that she didn't even know that she had this hold - this magnetic pull- over him. Seriously. She could ask him to tell his friend Jungkook that he sucked at bowling, and he would gladly do it even though it was a death wish in doing so.

Wait, what happened? Where did those thoughts come from as he usually would never think about that, especially towards a woman he had just met? Pushing the confusion away, Seokjin lightly shook his head and plastered a sincere smile on his attractive face.

"Anyway, since we are losing daylight, why don't we go inside the fairgrounds, and yes, I'm gonna pay for your ticket. Don't argue with me on that, okay?" He kindly suggested as he maintained the wicked smile that caused both men and women to swoon over him.

Sumin chuckled, "Alright, you can pay for my entrance ticket, but I'm gonna pay you back by winning you a stuffed animal, cool?" She said with a sunny, innocent smile.

Seokjin's body slightly froze as he thought, "Okay, she might have beaten me in terms of having a smile that caused hearts to skip a beat," He quickly pulled himself back into reality and agreed to Sumin's suggestion.

Though, it wouldn't result in her trying to win him a stuffed alpaca. An hour into their date, Sumin wanted to succeed at winning him that cuddly stuffed alpaca but kept losing at the ring toss. Refusing to give up, the stubborn young lady shelled out another ten-dollar bill and slammed it on the wooden counter.

"Alright, Seokjin, prepare to- wait, what are you doing?" She questioned as Seokjin took the tiny plastic ring from her dainty hands.

The equally as determined man positioned himself in front of her and said,

"I'm gonna win you that alpaca, princess," He stretched his right arm, warming up his muscles, "So, prepare to be amazed by my professional throwing skills!" He announced; his voice was almost loud enough to be overheard by every single person at the carnival.

Sumin giggled softly, shaking her head playfully. Then, a brilliant yet bold idea popped into her mind.

With a seductive grin painted on her lips, Sumin stood on the tips of her toes and courageously planted a kiss on Seokjin's cheek. On the outside, Sumin appeared calm as a clam. However, on the inside, it felt like there was a tornado in the pit of her stomach. Then, a feeling of regret followed, but Sumin pushed it away. A good friend of hers told Sumin that she needed to be confident and more flirtatious. Now, she hoped that her friend's advice paid off.

"I'm sorry if that was too forward, I thought you could use a kiss for good luck?" Sumin quickly apologized, averting her gaze. Her cheeks became flushed as the bashful woman messed with the hem of her dress.

Then, a hand clamped over hers before the cold sweat from her hands left an embarrassing stain.

Sumin's eyes trailed upward and soon widened with how close Seokjin's face was. He was so close that their noses were merely inches away from bumping into each other.

As the doe-eyed Sumin parted her mouth to speak, Seokjin gently pressed his right index finger on her lips. Sumin's gaze flickered to his hand, noticing the plastic ring hanging on his pinky.

"First, thank you for that sweet kiss. It granted me all the luck in the world needed to win these rigged carnival games," He removed his index finger and stood up straight, "Second, now I'm even more determined to win you that alpaca so that I can get another kiss. Perhaps, this time, maybe on the lips?" He flirted, winking at her before he turned his back towards her and prepared to play the ring toss game.

Sumin mustered enough courage and composed herself.

"Let's talk after you win me, RJ."

"RJ?"

"Yeah, that's going to be the name of our cuddly stuffed animal."

Seokjin chuckled at how adorable Sumin was.

"Okay, RJ, it is."

Sumin cheered as she shook her hands in excitement, eager to hug the alpaca.

Her cheers faded into the back of his mind as Seokjin gently pulled himself away from that beautiful memory. It honestly felt so real to him. The smell of deep-fried food lingered around his nostrils while the sounds of Sumin's cute protests echoed in his ears. A reminiscent smile formed on his gorgeous face as he recalled the events that happened after he successfully won her RJ. She dragged him around each food stand and paid for any item that they wanted to try together, though Seokjin offered to pay for the more expensive food items. However, being the stubborn woman that she was, Sumin swatted his hands every time he reached for his wallet.

To this day, he could still feel the stinging sensation on the backs of his hands. Who would've thought that his princess had some strength to her?

"Why are you rubbing your hand, Jinnie?" Sumin's voice pulled Seokjin away from his thoughts. He glanced down and low and behold; he did rub his hand as if she smacked his hand a few minutes before. He ceased his odd action and then threw a warm and loving arm around Sumin's shoulders and pulled her close.

"Don't worry about it, princess, but I still think that you told some aspects of our first date incorrectly." He teased with a lop-sided grin. "If I remember that night correctly, it was I who tried out the ring toss stand first," He playfully tapped Sumin's nose, "And it was you came to my aid like the breathtakingly goddess protector I know you are." He finished before innocently pecking her sweet lips.

Sumin playfully rolled her eyes as the corner of her mouth curved upward. She then lightly shoved her foolish boyfriend, creating space between them.

"Anyway, where should we go next? We still need to find these so-called, 'Fireflies,' if we want any answers on this cure." She asked, surveying the abandoned fairgrounds. Her eyes flickered from every direction, ensuring that there weren't any abnormal shadows nearby.

A faint hum emitted from Seokjin's mouth as he, too, looked around. Then, something captured his attention as he was about to finish his search. He quickly focused his gaze onto the Ferris-wheel as he annoyingly pushed Sumin, repeatedly telling her to look into the distance.

The annoyed honey-brown haired girl lightly slapped his hand away, demanding that he stop being weird.

"I can't help it. You just make me a fool for you, Minnie." Seokjin flirted, causing his girlfriend to gag.

"I swear you are too much sometimes," She readjusted the strap that held her Katana, "But, when you want to, you do spout some intellectual things," She smiled brightly at Seokjin, "Let's head towards that Ferris-wheel and use it as our vantage point." She suggested, which of course, Seokjin agreed as he laced his fingers with hers. Then, the two hiked over to the gigantic wheel, hoping that it could give them some form of a clue.

Minutes later, the duo arrived in front of the rusty Ferris-wheel. The curious young woman broke away from her boyfriend as this strange magnetic pull forced her to step towards the poorly maintained ride. Her fingers grazed the rough cold metal as Sumin noted both the rust and vines that surrounded the wheel.

"It's so strange..." muttered the shocked girl as she stepped back.

Seokjin slowly nodded, unsure what to say next as specific memories plagued his mind. Thoughts of him and Sumin passing by this very Ferris-wheel as he begged her to go on it with him. Whenever he explained to Sumin why they had to ride this attraction, he always told her that it was part of the book of romance. Naturally, his sweetheart demanded that she sees this book so that she could see that so-called rule. The more he thought of that event, the more he chuckled.

His princess was always the skeptical one, but that made their relationship refreshing. They never behaved like any other couple, and he wouldn't want it any other way.

As he forced himself away from his beautiful memories of his lovely lady, he noticed Sumin doing something strange in the corner of his eye.

"Uh...sweetheart? What are you doing?" questioned Seokjin as he continued to watch his girlfriend with curiosity.

Sumin hummed as she glanced over her shoulder, "Oh, I’m gonna climb the Ferris-wheel and use it as our vantage point." She explained as she undid the belt that held her Katana and shrugged off her leather jacket.

"I see...I see..." Then, her words finally registered in his mind, "I'm sorry? Did you say that you were going to climb the Ferris-wheel? Miss ‘I'm afraid of heights’?" He asked with a quizzical expression on his face. The longer he thought about his girlfriend climbing up that poorly maintained carnival attraction, the more he became concerned. It didn’t help that those worries conjured up every worst-case scenario known to man and flooded his mind with them.

Yeah…

He definitely did not want Sumin climbing up there, and just as he shrugged off his jacket, Sumin spoke,

"Yup! Now, stay down here and keep watch, okay? You have my sword if you need an extra weapon." She said with a cheerful smile, reassuring her worried boyfriend. It was as if she read his mind and wanted to wash away his unnecessary concerns.

Seokjin looked utterly stunned. Every time he opened his mouth to say something, Seokjin swiftly closed it as he knew that he couldn't stop his headstrong princess from doing something if she already made up her mind.

Letting out a defeated sigh, Seokjin quickly hugged her and placed a warm kiss on her temple. As he pulled away, he told her,

"Remember what I told you the first time we rode this together?"

"Yeah...don't look down."

Seokjin uttered a quick, "good," as he released his loving hold on Sumin and watched her start her journey up the rusty fair ride.

His eyes remained glued on her body as he watched the love of his life climbed up the ladder of the neglected attraction. Seokjin's mind drifted to the first time he successfully got his princess to ride the Ferris-wheel as he stared at her fading backside, slowly becoming one with the sky.

Crossing her arms underneath her chest, Sumin blinked a few times. She tilted her head slightly as she tried to comprehend the fact that her boyfriend of almost two years wanted her to go to the Ferris-wheel. Also known as the fair's local death trap.

A short yet heavy sigh escaped the hesitant woman as her gaze focused on Seokjin, who currently nibbled on his bottom lip. A cute little habit that Seokjin had whenever he was deep in thought. That was one of the many quirks she learned about him over their two years of being together. The fun part of that sentence was that he always had her learn something new about him every day.

That was one part of their loving and entertaining relationship that she would never trade for the most expensive diamond in the entire universe.

Seokjin was priceless, and Sumin was incredibly lucky to be with someone like him.

Speaking of which...

"Okay, I got the ultimate bribery for you, princess!" Seokjin piped up, pulling Sumin away from her loving thoughts.

The corners of her lips turned up as curiosity burned in Sumin's eyes.

"Oh? And, what are you exactly going to bribe me with, huh, Jinnie boy?" She asked with hints of playfulness in her words.

Seokjin chuckled, "I'm glad you asked, my curious kitten," He then pointed at the nearby cotton candy stand, "If you go on the Ferris-wheel with me, I will buy you all the cotton candy your heart desires!" He exclaimed with eyes practically pleading Sumin to say yes.

A hum escaped her lips as Sumin lightly tapped her chin; her bottom lip jutted out as she "seriously" thought about his offer.

"I don't know, Seokjin, you know well enough that I'm deathly afraid of heights, you're practically asking me to risk my life just for tonight since you want to see the 4th of July firework show at the top of the wheel," Sumin lightly shook her head, "You're gonna have to do better than that, Jinnie." She stated, shrugged her shoulders.

Seokjin's eyes narrowed on her as he mentally cursed at how argumentative Sumin could get—when she wanted to be. He made a mental note to make sure that his princess never hung out with a particular headstrong friend of hers. If he didn't know any better, he knew that Sumin's good friend more than likely told her about his romantic plans for their 4th of July celebration.

"That pain in the ass..." He muttered to himself, rolling his eyes.

Unfortunately, for him, Sumin heard his words and assumed that he called her that. However, she knew better not to start a fight with him over an assumption. She learned that lesson the hard way after an evening of arguing with him over a hunch that almost caused them to break up just before the night of their big first-anniversary date. From that night on, Sumin learned to always ask for clarification. She vowed never to feel that devastating heartbreak again.

Mustering an innocent smile, Sumin eyed him accusingly, "I'm sorry, who's 'that pain in the ass'?"

Seokjin nearly choked on his spit. His body tensed. He then slowly focused his gaze onto the woman that not only made his heart skip a beat but also instilled fear into him. There was nothing in between those two feelings.

The nervous young man opened his mouth to speak but soon closed it as he had to pick his next choice of words carefully. Having a full-blown fight with her was certainly not on tonight’s romantic agenda. Instead, he wanted to share the most magical kiss with his princess and then confess how much he loved her.

While, yes, they had been together for almost two years, Seokjin and Sumin never said, "I love you," to each other. Their mutual friends told them that they took their relationship a little too slow for their liking. Still, Sumin wanted to make sure their feelings towards each other were genuine, and Seokjin respected that.

He wanted her to know that he was just as serious about them as she was.

Which motivated the handsome fool to say,

"Not you," He gently took Sumin's hands as complete and utter adoration burned in his eyes, "Which is why not only will I give you an endless supply of cotton candy, but I will bestow you the most romantic kiss ever known to man, if you agree to go on the Ferris-wheel with me," He quickly glanced at his watch, "We have exactly an hour to wait in that line, get on one of those carts, and slowly ride up to the top of the wheel where we will stop and enjoy the firework display," He smiled warmly at her, praying to every God out there that she would say yes, "So, how about it? You and me? All alone in that surprisingly roomy compartment?" He finished, eager to hear Sumin's answer.

Sumin remained silent as she glanced up to the Ferris-wheel, pondering for a moment. Then, after what seemed like an eternity of waiting, she opened her sweet lips and said,

"Yes. I will ride the Ferris-wheel with you."

Sumin suddenly shrieked, followed by this soft laughter as Seokjin abruptly picked her up and twirled her around. Bystanders would've thought that he just proposed to her, and she said yes. That was how ecstatic Seokjin was for finally getting Sumin to agree to ride the wheel with him, especially since he knew how afraid of heights she was.

That was true love right there, and it solidified the never-ending devotion he bore for her.

Gently placing his princess on the ground, Seokjin softly pecked her nose before intertwining their hands together.

With a sincere smile painted on his lips, the handsome young man guided the woman, he absolutely adored, towards the semi-long waiting line to get on the ride. The happy couple passed the time by talking about everything and anything popped in their heads. They talked about how their college courses went the past Spring Semester. They spoke of how goofy their group of friends was, especially when two of their friends sabotaged each other's audition for the theater department's Spring musical.

Sumin still couldn't believe that Jungkook and Hoseok became infatuated with the same girl, who auditioned to play the main heroine in the play.

Slightly shaking her head, she cuddled up to Seokjin as she wrapped her arms around his waist, covering her goose-bumped riddled arms. She buried her face in his chest, inhaling the addictive scent of his cologne.

Seokjin peered down with an amused smirk plastered on his face.

"I'm starting to think that you only restocked my cologne with this scent because you personally like it," He shuffled their bodies up to the front of the line, "Not so much that you think that it's a scent that works well on me." He teased, chuckling at how precious Sumin was as she vigorously shook her head.

She then looked up with her doe-like gaze, “I bought it because you said that you personally liked it and it worked well for you,” She untangled himself for her but only for Seokjin to wrap his arms around her waist and rest his chin on her shoulder, “Don’t pin it on me, mister.” She stated as the ride operator asked if they wanted to ride alone or together while the cart slowly stopped in front of the couple.

Seokjin quickly answered that they wanted to ride together before Sumin had the chance to say some sarcastic remark.

The ride operator nodded and waved them over, allowing them to cross the safety line. The carnival worker politely helped Sumin into the cart then helped Seokjin afterward. The worker quickly did the safety check, making sure everything worked properly before pushing the start button.

The second the cart moved upwards, Sumin’s breath hitched. Panic settled in the pit of her tummy. Her breathing grew sporadic as the carriage continued going higher.

Out of the corner of his eye, Seokjin noticed how tense his princess was and reached over to grab her hands. He gently caressed the backs of her hands as he whispered words of encouragement and peppered her faces with kisses.

“I know it’s too late to say this, but don’t look down.”

“Oh, you’re damn right it’s too late to say that!”

A low whine escaped her mouth as she continued to resist taking a peek down below. The extremely stressed out girl flailed her legs as if she hoped that maybe her kicking her legs would speed up the ride. It didn’t, but a girl could dream, right?

Sumin whined, “Ah, how much longer to the top, Jinnie?” She asked, her voice shaky as she placed a trembling hand on her chest. She felt how her heart practically hammered against her chest, and then it suddenly stopped.

Slowly prying one of her eyes open, Sumin saw Seokjin’s hands tightly holding hers. That explained why she suddenly felt this warmth transfer to her cold hands. However, she began to feel more than just his body heat; she started to feel his courage. The longer he held onto her, the more she felt safe with him. With Seokjin by her side, whispering words of encouragement and showering her with all of the admiration he bore for her, she felt invincible.

Seokjin challenged her by facing her fear of heights. He showed her that while yes, it terrified her to no end, she still had a courageous side to her that needed just a little shove.

Ah, Sumin hated when he unknowingly proved a point to her… God damn it…

Gently opening her other eye, a faint gasp escaped her gentle lips. Her eyes widened at the marvelous view. The city lights twinkled like the stars in the night sky as tiny streaks of red and white gradually passed by the fairgrounds.

What she currently saw, at that moment, was the epitome of a brand-new world—and she owed it all to Seokjin.

Without a second thought, Sumin grabbed Seokjin’s face and kissed his cheek sweetly, letting out a giggle as she pulled away.

A boyish grin appeared on Seokjin’s princely face, “What was that for, princess?” He lightly questioned.

Sumin maintained her loving smile, “For always pushing me to be better,” She said, resting her head against his broad shoulder, “You always know me better than I know myself.” She added as Seokjin rested his head against hers.

“Well, think of it as me returning the favor. You constantly pushed me out of my comfort zone, so naturally, I’d do the same for you.” He stated with a meaningful expression as the Ferris-wheel momentarily came to a halt.

Sumin’s brows furrowed as tiny creases formed on her forehead. Curiosity washed against her body but soon evaporated as the couple heard loud booms followed by flashes of colorful lights.

The easily enamored young lady stared into the night sky in complete awe. Her eyes sparkled like the fireworks that lit up the sky. It was during that moment that Sumin briefly forgot that she was an adult with responsibilities. Responsibilities that came with being a college student who enrolled in a full course load of classes. She forgot about the endless pile of assignments, group projects, and presentations.

For only tonight, the only thing - the only person - she needed to focus on was the attractive fellow that sat next to her.

Which reminded her…

Taking a slow, deep breath, Sumin emptied the nerves that riddled her body. She repeated that action a few more times until she felt weightless. For the past few

months, unknown to Seokjin, she practiced how to confess her love to him. After all, this would be a gigantic leap for them in their relationship.

With a final deep exhale, the shy brunette turned her body towards her boyfriend as the fireworks continued to decorate the black canvas that covered the town. Flashes of color illuminated the Ferris-wheel as Sumin slowly leaned in with rosy-colored cheeks.

“Seokjin…?” She softly called out to him, causing the boy to hum in response; though, his eyes didn’t leave the firework show.

“Can you look at me for a second? I need to tell you something.”

“Oh, that is not something any boyfriend wants to hear coming out of their girlfriend’s mouth.”

“I’m serious, Jinnie!”

“I’m serious too, princess! The moment any girlfriend says that to their significant other, it’s—”

Seokjin’s lips were captured by Sumin’s. Her hands slowly reached up to his neck, gently grasping it as she pulled him closer. Their chests pinned against one another as the couple gradually became lost in each other’s embrace. Seokjin’s hands rested on Sumin’s thighs. At the same time, her fingers entangled themselves in between locks of his hair, gently tugging at them as their kiss grew more fervent.

Tiny moans floated into the air, mixing with the powerful booms from the firecrackers, as the two battled for dominance; neither one of them allowed the other to win, as Seokjin and Sumin remained in their tight embrace for what seemed like an eternity.

Reluctantly, Sumin pulled away as she remembered why she called for him in the first place.

“As I was saying before we passionately kissed each other,” She smiled brightly, chuckling as she wiped away her remaining lip gloss off Seokjin’s swollen lips, “I need to tell you something, and no, I’m not confessing a relationship sin nor am I breaking up with you, you dramatic doofus.” Sumin paused again, soothing the butterflies that fluttered in her tummy, “I wanted to tell you that…I’m in love with you…” She finally confessed with bright red cheeks as passion burned in her eyes.

A massive sigh of relief escaped her lips as she finally and courageously announced that she was utterly head-over-heels in love with him. Now, she didn’t expect Seokjin to say it back since they both agreed, at the beginning of their relationship, that they would say, “I love you,” at their own pace, but a part of her felt afraid. Scared that maybe she said it a little too soon for Seokjin’s liking and now scared him off.

Oh, great. Here came the regret of announcing her love too early, hitting Sumin like a massive tidal wave as her boyfriend remained silent with a straight face.

Sumin sucked in air between clenched teeth, nodding her head as she scolded herself for confessing her love. Slowly, she turned her body, and as she was about to create space between them, she felt a pair of hands cup her cheeks and pull her into the most mind-blowing kiss ever.

Her eyes fluttered close as she became lost in the kiss, and during that heated exchange, she heard Seokjin say in between pecks,

“I’m…in…love…with…you…too…”

With one and final kiss, Seokjin pulled away, though he would instead continue kissing her as he showed her just how much he loved her. As he unraveled himself from her body, he couldn’t help but smirk as he noticed how flushed Sumin’s cheeks were.

He wasn’t going to lie, seeing his princess, a total blushing mess boosted his confidence as this sense of pride surged through his body. He unknowingly puffed out his broad chest as he flung a warm around Sumin’s chest while the Ferris-wheel slowly resumed operating.

“You know, I don’t think our future anniversaries are going to top this one.”

“Yeah. I think you might be right, but I’ll still love you even if our next year’s date consists of us chilling on my roof and stargazing.”

“Huh. I think you just gave me an idea for our annual Autumn dates!”

Slowly opening her eyes, a faint smile graced Sumin's face as Seokjin's words echoed throughout her mind.

And true to her boyfriend's word, he did set up a stargazing date for their yearly Autumn dates.

It still baffled her mind that he was always consistent whenever he suggested something unexpectedly, but that was something that made her fall more in love with Seokjin.

Speaking of love…

Peering down with an exciting twinkle in her eye, Sumin took a deep breath before shouting,

“If I recall that night correctly, I did not confess my love to you until the week after!”

Not even a minute later, Sumin heard Seokjin’s fake laughter, causing the amused young woman to genuinely chuckle as she shook her head, slowly climbing down the Ferris-wheel. There was no point in staying up there if she didn’t see any abnormalities in the shadows.

As the fearless lady descended the ladder, Sumin could hear Seokjin make a few jabs at her memory—or lack of one.

“And another thing, my gorgeous yet always wrong princess! How could I’ve told the story wrong when my memory is ten times better than yours!? So, there! I win!” bragged Seokjin, completely forgetting the fact this booming voice could easily attract a horde of the undead.

A low growl escaped from the annoyed girl’s lip as she paused in her steps. Her gaze drifted upward as the anger bubbled within her chest. Her grip tightened on the rusty metal of the ladder; her knuckles turned white, which meant that the poor girl was seconds away from punching her oh-so-charming boyfriend.

Was it too late to leave Seokjin behind while she journeyed off to find the Fireflies? After all, her boyfriend could easily manage a bunch of zombies on his own.

Forcing out a sigh, Sumin continued her journey down, loving yet hating the fact that she could never leave him behind.

She loved him too damn much…

Little by little, Sumin gradually closed the gap between herself and the sweet ground that she wished her feet stepped on as opposed to the tiny stairs. As much as she didn’t mind heights anymore, she would rather be on the floor if she could help it. More comfortable to defend herself and Seokjin if necessary.

“Ah, I hope he’s doing….” She mumbled to herself, stopping abruptly when her eyes picked up something strange into the distance. She halted in her place. Her eyes squinted, hoping that it would help her vision become sharper. Then, her breath hitched as it grew sporadic. Her chest tightened as she gripped the ladder once again.

This heaviness of complete and utter dread crashed into Sumin’s body like a gigantic tidal wave that hit into a city. She slowly felt the wind knock out of her as the horrific shrieks drew near.

Then, her heart completely stopped the moment she heard Seokjin cry out to her in terror.

“Seokjin, just leave me!” She commanded sternly as the adrenaline-fueled woman rushed down the ladder, no longer caring if she fell from the ladder. Sumin was close to the ground anyway and could quickly get into a combat-ready stance while Seokjin dashed to safety.

Seokjin’s safety would forever and always be a top priority for Sumin…

As the worried young woman descended from the maintenance ladder, practically near the gravel, she heard Seokjin idiotically taunt the undead as they surrounded him, desiring so much to eat his warm flesh. However, the secretly terrified young man couldn’t let his fear consume him. He needed to protect Sumin as he could never imagine living his life without her. Since the start of this horrendous outbreak, the lovestruck man vowed to protect his beloved and ensured that no harm came her way.

He hasn’t failed yet, nor would he ever fail at keeping his promise because, just like Sumin, Seokjin’s utmost priority is his girlfriend’s safety.

Using his sacred promise as his motivator to keep fighting, Seokjin peeked into the scope and fired shot after shot with his semi-automatic rifle, readying another round of ammo as his ammunition clip emptied.

Just as he pulled out the emptied ammo, Seokjin felt something sharp swipe at his right arm, creating a gash on his bicep as blood streamed down and stained his black leather jacket; though, it didn’t matter as no one would notice it. Well, the horde of undead caught it as the addicting scent of fresh plasma enticed them even more, sending them into a frenzy.

The injured man winced as the pain grew increasingly unbearable, but he refused to stop fighting. The moment he ceased firing, they would attack Sumin and more than likely kill her.

No…

Seokjin would never allow that to happen…

Not as long as his heart continued beating…

Exhausting his last amount of strength, Seokjin suddenly stopped firing and rammed the end of his semi-automatic rifle into one of the zombies before shooting a few bullets into its decaying body. As the adrenaline-fueled protector readied to fight off more zombies, he failed to realize that he had a few rushing at him from his flank. As their growls grew close, Seokjin knew it was too late to fire a few rounds at them while five more zombies ran at him from the front.

No matter which direction he focused on, those undead bastards would aggressively claw at him before devouring his juicy flesh. However, he couldn’t let that thought deter him from his personal objective; his mission of getting Sumin to the Fireflies, so those groups of doctors could create a cure that would one day restore humanity on this lonely planet.

That’s why he had to keep fighting….

Breathing deeply, Seokjin readied his weapon, releasing bullet after bullet at the horde in front of him, ignoring the ones that rushed at him from behind.

But he also neglected his ride-or-die partner…

A loud grunt entered one ear and exited through the other, followed by the sound of a sharp object impaling one flesh after the other before bodies dropped right behind the handsome man. Their decaying, decapitated heads rolled towards the assailant’s feet before the person kicked to the side like a soccer ball.

Seokjin faintly scoffed as he glanced behind his shoulder and whispered, “And I thought it was my job to save you, p-princess…” as the last bar of his energy finally depleted. His face paled from the amount of blood that slowly drained from his arm. His eyes shuttered close as Seokjin gave in to the exhaustion that plagued him. His legs wobbled as his knees buckled in, ready for his entire body to collapse onto the pavement.

Yep…Seokjin depleted all of his energy…

However, as he was seconds away from dropping to the floor, Sumin quickly sheathed her Katana and grabbed Seokjin before he could. She then wrapped his uninjured arm around her shoulders as she hoisted Seokjin and supported his weight with all the strength she mustered minutes before.

“C-come on, Jinnie…” A few grunts left her lips, “You c-can’t give up on me just yet.” Sumin’s voice quavered as she struggled to reach for Seokjin’s assault rifle. Her fingertips grazed the strap a few times before she successfully wrapped them around the leather material and hung it around her boyfriend’s neck. Of course, she switched the rifle’s safety on before doing that. Insult to injury would be that she caused the death of her boyfriend.

“Alright…” She softly began as she surveyed her surroundings, hearing loud shrieks in the distance. Terror settled in her face, but Sumin didn’t allow it to show. No. The second she let the fear win, it was game over for her and Seokjin.

And Sumin would never allow that to occur, so she had to think of a place for them to hide.

Her mind went into overdrive as she thought of all the possible places for them to wait for the horde to lose interest in them quietly. The site also had to provide them enough cover that could not only disguise their scent but ward off the stench of blood as she patched Seokjin’s deep wound.

Sumin’s concerned gaze glanced at her boyfriend’s limp and severely injured arm as streams of blood stained his scarred hand.

Quickly shaking her head, the worried girlfriend forcibly pushed away any possible worst-case scenarios as it would neither help her or Seokjin in their current situation.

Suddenly, another thunderous, bone-chilling scream echoed in the eerie atmosphere, and this time it sounded nearby.

“Shit…!” She cursed through clenched teeth as she readjusted Seokjin’s weight against hers. “Okay, do you remember where the Hall of Mirrors was at?” She asked, guiding them away from the pile of lifeless zombies.

Seokjin groaned a few times. His eyes fought to stay open, but he found it difficult to do so. Shit, he barely registered Sumin’s question. That was how drained he was.

Sumin’s brows furrowed as wrinkles formed on her forehead. Her heart tightened from Seokjin’s lack of response.

“You know what, it’s okay, Jinnie,” Sumin forced an affectionate yet tired smile, “I think I remember where it was at,” She said, hunching her body as Seokjin’s weight slowly collapsed on top of her tired body. Still, she exerted enough of her depleting energy to keep them standing.

“Alright, let’s go.” She whispered, hobbling the two of them over to the entrance of the Hall of Mirrors. She kept her right arm anchored on Seokjin’s waist. At the same time, her left hand interlocked with his as she practically dragged them towards the entryway.

In between her grunts, she suddenly heard Seokjin let out this light chuckle. Sumin couldn’t help but giggle as her boyfriend’s delirious expression was priceless; though, she shouldn’t find his dying state hilarious. She believed the dehydration slowly crept on her emotional state and took a mental note to take a few big gulps from her canister. Just one of the many containers filled with water that Sumin and Seokjin filtered by boiling out the impurities from a river they stumbled upon a few weeks back.

But before she could dive into the hilarious memory associated with that river, a string of slurred words entered her ears followed with pain-induced groans.

Sumin forced air through her nose, “Seokjin, save what little strength you have. Okay?” She kindly suggested, though, it sounded more of a demand.

“B-But…princess…” Seokjin winced as his eyes opened slightly, “We can f-finally settle o-our bet once and f-for all.” He finished, stumbling over some words.

Sumin briefly halted their steps but swiftly resumed as they couldn’t afford to stop with a pack of starving zombies on their trails.

With a raised brow, Sumin asked what he meant by his rather vague statement as she and Seokjin finally passed through the entryway to the Hall of Mirrors. Correction. The place was now a dark, spacious area surrounded by broken mirrors and cracked glass decorated the pathway.

“I mean, S-Sumin…” He coughed twice, causing the tired girl to become alarmed and even more concerned for Seokjin’s wellbeing, “Don’t you r-remember on our fourth a-anniversary that y-you a-and I made a bet—” Seokjin let out a loud cry as Sumin accidentally bumped his injured arm against the wall as her body finally gave up on her. The two of them collapsed onto the floor, panting heavily.

“Sorry, Seokjin.” The exhausted young lady mumbled as she took a minute to catch her breath before moving his body to a more comfortable position.

Seokjin made a face before continuing where he left off.

“As I w-was saying before you c-carelessly d-dropped me,” Sumin shot him an icy glare, resulting with him swiftly apologizing before resuming, “Anyway, you a-and I made a b-bet on our f-fourth a-anniversary because neither one of us h-had y-yet to come inside here,” Seokjin repeated, hoping that something – anything – triggered Sumin to have this lightbulb moment.

Then, like clockwork, she did.

“Oh, my God…” She trailed on as she took off her jacket and tied her hair up in a pony-tail, “Are you talking about that stupid bet that you created because you were too much of a chicken to go in this place by yourself?” She questioned, emphasizing a specific word.

Seokjin gawked but let out a few more coughs, “That b-bet isn’t stupid!” He declared, wincing loudly as Sumin carefully removed the torn leather jacket sleeve from his arm. The fabric lightly grazed his gaping wound, creating an endless wave of this unbearable stinging sensation.

Sumin smiled wanly as she gently held his injured arm, assessing the severity of the wound.

“I know you’re in pain, Jinnie, but the bet was stupid, and I’ll tell you why.” She said in a matter-of-fact tone, not realizing that Seokjin closed his eyes, surrendering to the darkness that slowly swamped his mind. Sumin didn’t notice this yet, but Seokjin sadly began reacting to the virus that caused this damn outbreak in the first place.

Minutes rolled by and still no snippy remark from Seokjin. Panic settled in Sumin as she immediately shifted her focus on him. She gently cupped his marked-up cheek; her eyes dripped with fear.

“Jinnie?” She lightly tapped his face while the anxiety settled within her chest, “You gotta stay away, okay? Just stay awake for me. P-please…” She desperately begged as tears formed in the brim of her eyes. “After all, you have to travel down memory lane with me on how that stupid bet came to be…” She stated in a soft-spoken voice as she applied pressure to his wound, refusing to give up on him.

Sumin’s eyes fluttered close, slowly breathing out of her nostrils. Her mind wandered off, transporting her back to that fun evening.

Harden stares. Smug smiles. Two people proudly stood in front of each other, hiding one of their hands behind their backs. The unusual duo anchored their bodies in front of the infamous entryway to the Hall of Mirrors, calculating the other person’s next move in their fun game of rock-paper-scissors. Rumors surrounded the infamous carnival attraction as legends said that a couple of fair-goers had unexpectedly grown ill and currently fought for their lives in the downtown hospital. Knowing that only enticed every single customer to want to brave it out and check out the attraction for themselves.

But not for Seokjin and Sumin. Nuh-uh. This quirky couple would rather look like complete fools in front of the infamous fair attraction than go inside.

And this all started because Seokjin stubbornly refused to go inside the Hall of Mirrors by himself.

Naturally, Sumin called him a coward; thus, it led them to their current predicament.

With an arrogant smile painted on her beautiful face, Sumin’s stare narrowed as if she had telepathic abilities, allowing her to read Seokjin’s next move.

“Stare at me all you want, princess, but you will never defeat the rock-paper-scissors champion!” taunted Seokjin with an equally cocky smirk plastered on his gorgeous face.

Sumin snorted; her eyes briefly flickered to the side.

“You and I both know that there’s no such thing as a champion of rock-paper-scissors. You giant doofus!” She quipped in a high-pitched voice, earning her a few odd glances from a few bystanders.

Yeah. That reaction resulted in Sumin’s boyfriend doing his infamous windshield wiper laugh, causing a couple of people to stop in their tracks with a confused expression.

The embarrassed college student hung her head low. Her cheeks heated from unwanted attention.

Shyly, Sumin lifted her head, uttering a few apologies to the strangers before shooting Seokjin a cold stare as he continued cackling for a good three minutes.

The agitated brunette blew air upward from her mouth before stalking up to her hysterical boyfriend and punched him in his bicep.

Seokjin yelped but showed no sign of his laughter ceasing any time soon, which further annoyed Sumin.

Finally fed up with her cackling boyfriend, Sumin shouted, “Enough! I’ll go inside the stupid hall of mirrors with you!” She walked towards the carnival worker, dragging Seokjin by his wrist while his laughter slowly faded away. He quickly wiped away the tears that formed because he laughed so hard that his stomach ached.

Ah, he hadn’t a good laugh like that since Namjoon broke their Chemistry professor’s beaker and set off the smoke alarms in the classroom.

Good times right there…

Softly shaking his head, Seokjin handed the worker two entry tickets. Then the employee granted them entrance into the Hall of Mirrors.

Gradually, the couple walked further into the hallway. The light from the sunset faded in the background as the young pair went deeper into the creepy attraction.

Without a second thought, Sumin wrapped her arms around Seokjin’s forearm and clung to her protector. The frightened girl shuffled alongside her boyfriend, disregarding the fact that she could’ve easily tripped him. Her heart pounded against her chest as she caught glimpses of her funny reflections in the mirrors.

Tiny whines left Sumin’s lips as she cutely stomped her feet because Seokjin wanted to admire his humorous reflection.

His action shocked her tremendously since it was Seokjin’s idea in the fucking first place that they played rock-paper-scissors to see if Sumin accompanied him or not inside this terrifying place. Now, she started believing that the attractive idiot she called a boyfriend hustled her.

If that were the case, then what she was about to do next, she wouldn’t feel guilty whatsoever.

With both a devious smirk and gleam on her innocent face, Sumin turned her attention towards Seokjin, slightly tilting her head.

“Hey, Jinnie…”

“What’s up?”

“Wanna make a bet, especially since it’s our fourth anniversary together?”

Seokjin blinked a few times. His lips thinned as this uneasy silence covered them like a warm blanket on a Winter’s night.

His stare darted between Sumin’s innocent face and the random stranger squeezed by them.

The confused man opened his mouth but soon closed it as the longer he stared at his girlfriend’s doe-like eyes, the more he realized that there was a trap waiting for him.

With knitted brows and taking a step backward, Seokjin hesitantly took the bait and asked what kind of bet Sumin talked about.

“Simple, Seokjin,” She gestured to their rather cramped surroundings, “Since you and I both do not want to be in here any longer than we have to,” She then pointed towards the direction in front of them, “And judging from the bone-chilling screams that echo every five seconds, it seems that this place is only going to become even scarier.” She explained, though, not really getting her point across.

However, that was the beauty of their relationship. Seokjin always understood what went on in Sumin’s beautiful yet devious brain.

And sadly, for him, this was a bet that would result in his loss…

Looking briefly displeased, Seokjin sighed heavily before interlacing their fingers together and continuing their journey inside the spooky attraction.

“So…what happens if you lose the bet?”

“Me? Ha. That’s comical, Jinnie. Tell me. Who’s the braver one between us two?”

“Well, that depends princess on what we’re doing, you big goof.”

Sumin scoffed, rolling her eyes, “You just don’t wanna admit that I’m braver than you.”

Now, it was Seokjin’s turn to scoff.

“Uh-huh. Let’s see if you keep that mindset once we near the end of this hallway since I believe that is when we heard the most terrifying induced shrieks.”

“You’re on!”

And true to his words…Sumin freaked out first and punched one of the costumed workers in the stomach.

Yeah…

Safe to say that the carnival manager banned the couple from entering the Hall of Mirrors ever again.

Well, at least there was a positive aspect of this epidemic…

Seokjin and Sumin were allowed inside the attraction; though, the concerned woman wished it were under better circumstances…

A defeated expression washed over Sumin’s face. Yet, the anxious but determined young woman refused to allow Seokjin to succumb to the deadly virus. A few sniffles echoed slightly as Sumin maintained pressure on the wound, allowing the disinfectant to have some sort of effect on the injury.

“Come on…” The distressed girl repeatedly uttered as tears cascaded down her dirty and bloodied cheeks. Out of anger, Sumin threw the blood-soaked gauze and hurriedly applied another, cleaning and dressing the gash some more. The upset girl’s tears landed on Seokjin’s arm, unknowingly stirring the man from his pain-induced slumber.

A couple of faint groans escaped his precious lips as Seokjin’s eyes slowly fluttered open. He slowly turned his head; his gaze landed on Sumin’s.

A small smile displayed on the handsome man’s face before he started to reach out to Sumin with his injured room, stubbornly ignoring the severe shooting pains that surged through his veins.

“…n-now…why is m-my princess crying…?” whispered Seokjin as his bloodied hand cupped Sumin’s soft cheek, “Beautiful w-women shouldn’t s-shed any t-tears…” He added, successfully causing his concerned girlfriend to chuckle.

Sumin leaned into his warm touch, maintaining her solemn smile, before grasping his hand with hers.

“G-gross Jinnie…” She teased, forcing herself to make light of the situation for not only her sake but Seokjin’s as well, “I don’t want you touching me with your bloody fingers.” She added, removing her hands from his bloody one as she resumed tending to his wound. Using her jacket sleeve, the brunette carefully wiped away the tears that threatened to fall. The last thing she needed was her purposely causing more minuscule pain to Seokjin.

Seokjin tried laughing, but they soon turned into small coughing fits. The injured man rolled his eyes; though, he maintained his tiny, playful smile.

“Well, I’m s-sorry that I c-couldn’t w-wash my hands before doing t-this—” Seokjin suddenly yelped as he felt this unbearable pain shoot up his arm once again. Then, he felt a cooling sensation that followed shortly. Wondering what it was, Seokjin’s gaze followed Sumin’s arms and then noticed yet another gauze slowly soak up his tainted blood. Not even a minute later, that excruciating ache returned.

“Ouch woman!! Be a little gentler next time!!” cried the injured man, shooting glares at his girlfriend.

Sumin gawked, “You know what…I take my tears back now,” Her face became emotionless, “Since you’ll be fine now seeing as that you finally stopped stuttering caused by that excruciating pain you were in earlier.” She said blankly, blinking a few times before turning her back towards him to put away their shared medical supplies.

Tiny chuckles escaped Seokjin’s chest as he slowly sat up, examining his bandaged-up arm. He stared at his wound as curiosity slowly washed over him. His eyes trailed over to Sumin and instantly noticed that her left hand dawned a bandage. Then, it occurred to him. She must’ve fused her blood with the disinfectant and made a quick cure for his wound before the virus had a chance to completely take over.

With the corners of his mouth turning upwards, Seokjin shuffled his way over to Sumin and warmly placed a hand on her head. Love glowed in his eyes as he stared affectionately at her backside.

“Well, it’s thanks to you that I’ll be fine,” but not even a second after saying that, he winced; his hand rested on the side of his torso. “Damn, did those undead bastards get me somewhere else too?” He bitterly thought but was soon thankful that he didn’t feel any fresh blood on his fingers. However, he didn’t want to alarm Sumin yet again. He saw how anxious she became when those zombies severely injured his arm. Seokjin couldn’t put her through that heartache for a second time.

Through gritted teeth, the stubborn fool repeated that he’d be okay and that he could never die.

“As long as I’m breathing and standing before you, I will always protect you,” He pressed his plump lips to Sumin’s temple, “Again, nothing and no one can kill me.” He declared; his eyes burned with determination as if he made another sacred pact to himself.

A faint scoff escapes her lips, unbothered to show her face to him.

“What if someone is successful and does kill you? Then, what, Jinnie?” She asked; her breath hitched for a split second. “I-I can’t afford to lose you…” She added, muttering as her voice softly broke in the beginning. Then, Sumin closed her eyes, slowly exhaling through her nose as she desperately tried taming the anxiety that gradually swallowed her body. The thought of losing Seokjin always triggered it for her. There were days where she wished that she were this emotionless, ruthless killing machine immune to emotions such as love, but that wasn’t the case.

It was thanks to those beautiful emotions that Sumin was herself. If she was this robot, then she wouldn’t have met Seokjin.

And with that final thought, the uneasy young woman turned towards her boyfriend, facing him with a brave expression as Sumin swung her backpack around her shoulders and tightened the straps.

“And that is why I will not stop at nothing until I find that safe haven.” She declared suddenly yet firmly; her eyes sparked with this undying resolve for her personal mission. “You hear me, Jinnie? I will find us that secure place. I s-swear to you.” She finished, letting out a few sniffles as her eyes became glossy.

Seokjin remained speechless, unsure of how to answer Sumin’s question. He was also taken back from Sumin’s sudden declaration; however, his mind soon drifted back to her earlier question.

Truth be told, he never thought about his death since that was something, he couldn’t afford to even imagine it.

No.

The moment he thought about someone killing him, it would be game over. His body would succumb to the fear that Seokjin channeled countlessly into courage. He needed to be strong for him and Sumin.

He just had to…

Tapping his chin, Seokjin hummed in response before wrapping a warm around Sumin’s shoulders, pulling towards him. His chin now rested nicely on top of her head while his courageous girlfriend finally broke down and sobbed in his chest, dampening his shirt. She could only hold that brave face for so long.

“Aw, Minnie…” He cooed, softly rubbing her back and sweetly kissing her head, “You don’t have to worry about keeping me safe, and do you want to know why?” He asked softly; his eyes blazed with absolute devotion and admiration.

Sumin nodded her head but remained glued in his broad chest as more tiny sniffles escaped her precious lips.

Seokjin couldn’t help but chuckle in response, finding his girlfriend extremely cute at that moment.

“Well, the reason why you don’t have to worry about keeping me safe is that I’m already safe, princess.”

“Huh? How’s that possible, Seokjin?”

Then, he grinned widely before answering,

“Because I’m always safe whenever I’m with you, sweetheart.” He happily stated, earning himself a light shove and angry stare from Sumin. “Ah, that tiny push was worth it since you’re no longer upset and shedding your beautiful tears when they aren’t necessary.” He added, smiling brightly. His smile was so vast that his cheekbones practically touched his eyes, causing them to disappear.

Sumin made a face, “Unbelievable…” She trailed on, walking away from him, “After all these years, you still manage to become cheesier than your last attempt!” She shouted over her shoulder, wearing this amused yet teasing smirk on her face.

Seokjin shook his head, forever enjoying their endless game of cat and mouse.

“I swear, I must be a masochist…” He humorously thought before chasing after his woman.

Inch by inch, Sumin peeked her head out; her gaze flickered toward every single direction, making sure the close was clear before leaving their hiding spot.

Seokjin’s breath fanned the back of her neck, creating goosebumps to appear. Tiny giggles emitted from her lips as Sumin hunched her shoulders, hoping that it would stop the rather affectionate man that she called her boyfriend.

However, it did not. If anything, the lovesick fool saw his girlfriend’s protests as a challenge. A challenge that he’d surely win.

Without a second thought, Seokjin wrapped a protective arm around Sumin’s shoulders, pressing his chest against her back. Then, he slowly lowered his head; his plump lips hovered over her ear.

“So…is the close clear?” He whispered; his hot, breathy tone caused the poor girl to become flustered as a small, yet enticing moan escaped her innocent lips.

Then, seconds later, a loud smack echoed throughout the dark, empty halls of the destroyed carnival attraction.

Seokjin grunted, rubbing the area where his girlfriend smacked him.

“Did you really have to go for my chest? You know how sensitive I am in that area.” He whined, pouting cutely as he continued rubbing his injured chest.

Sumin scoffed, ignoring his rather cute complaints, “Obviously. Why else would I slap you in your most sensitive spot beside your humongous ego.”

“Ego? That’s a weird name to call my—”

“Finish that sentence and no sex once we find the safe haven.”

Seokjin flinched. His face tensed from the mere thought of not being intimate with his girlfriend. Then, he hung his head low, “I’ll behave, princess.”

The triumphant young lady uttered a quick, “good,” before placing an innocent peck on his scratched-up cheek. She then gestured towards the exit, announcing to him that it was safe to run towards the fence that faced the abandoned, ruined mall. During the couple’s attempt at escaping the hungry horde, Sumin noticed a destroyed wall in front of the mall that she and Seokjin frequented for many years.

“You ready? Do you have enough energy to dash towards that gate?”

“I think I can manage, sweetheart.”

Tightening the strap that held her sword in place, Sumin slowly inhaled then released the pent-up stress and other frustration through her nostrils.

With a look of determination on Sumin’s smudged up face, the fearless woman charged out of the entrance; her gun fired round after round, emptying the clip before she quickly inserted another ammo clip. She briefly took note of how many clips she remained before she completely ran out.

Running behind her, with an infinite release of ammo from Seokjin’s semi-automatic, the protective yet still injured man guarded his girlfriend, protecting her like a royal knight for his princess as he safeguarded her from any harm. He shot down any undead bodies that rushed at Sumin, finding it a bit therapeutic as killing those zombies was another form of revenge for him.

Funny, huh?

Gradually, the abandoned mall became large as it appeared in the running couple’s sights. Their hearts drummed against their chest as they felt the adrenaline deplete from their bodies, but they couldn’t give up. Not just yet. They needed to find a safe haven and restore humanity to this rotting planet.

They just had too…

Skidding towards the open gate, Sumin held it up, widening the gap so Seokjin could fit in the hole. She breathed heavily while her eyes homed in the rushing horde that slowly closed the distance between them. With her free hand, she aimed her gun at the dead crowded, firing a few times. The frightened girl landed head-shots and permanently killed them.

“Come on, Sumin!” hollered Seokjin as this wave of anxiety washed over him as well. Being on the other side of the fence did not sit well with him whatsoever—scratch that. Not standing right beside Sumin did not sit well with him at all.

Just as the worried man readied his weapon, Sumin scrambled through the hole, earning herself a small cut on the back of her hand.

Seokjin instantly noticed, grabbing her uninjured hand, and pulled her towards the ruined building. The exhausted boy tapped into any reserve energy he stored. At the same time, Sumin addressed his wounds earlier as they continued their mad dash for the broken mall building.

With the entrance doors in sight, Seokjin practically shoved Sumin inside before following after. He swiftly scanned his surroundings, looking for anything that could be used as a barricade. Seconds later, his eyes focused on a pile of pipes.

“That should work…” He frantically thought as he grabbed a couple and stuck in between handles. For added measure, he rolled over some of the fallen metal trash bins, completely ignoring the surging pain in his right arm. Even though Sumin wiped away the virus from Seokjin’s body, his gash still remained and gradually reopened.

A few winces escaped his plump lips, instantly alerting Sumin. She tucked her pistol in its holster before helping him push the trash bins.

Playfully shaking her head, Sumin gave him a look, teasing him in the process.

Seokjin rolled his eyes, scoffing before flashing her a boyish grin.

“You know I could’ve rolled that by myself.”

“Uh-huh. Sure,” Sumin pointed at his injured arm, “And that’s why your wound reopened, doofus.” She stated before maneuvering the metal bin in front of the door, securing its position.

Seokjin jokingly mocked her as he felt a slight tug on his wrist. He obediently followed Sumin, sitting down when instructed to. His eyes trailed up, noting how breathtaking his princess was despite the many cuts, bruises, and dried up blood that decorated her face. Soon, the corners of his mouth curved upwards as he continued watching Sumin redo his bandages. He couldn’t quite explain it, but he felt like he transported back to the day he first fell in love with her.

And it all because of the angelic smile that graced her beautiful face…

“Okay, all done.” Announced Sumin, tightening the knot on the bandage. “Next time you reopen up your gash, I’m gonna let it get it infected.” She warned with an overly sweet tone before placing an innocent kiss on his cheek.

Seokjin chuckled, jokingly saluting his woman before standing up. He grabbed his weapon and flung the strap around his shoulder, allowing it to lazily hang beside him as he and Sumin journeyed deeper inside the empty mall.

Walking past broken glass displays, where only a few shards remained hanging on the wall, Sumin mumbled the name of each storefront. Suddenly, she halted, tugging on Seokjin’s jacket sleeve.

Seokjin peered down, asking her if she was okay, and why they stopped in their tracks.

Without saying a word, Sumin simply pointed at the storefront. The concerned young man followed her finger and soon gasped.

“Is that—”

“Yup.”

Sumin took a step forward, walking towards the broken counter. She observed the discarded plastic cups and open cash registers. She clicked her tongue, devastated seeing one of their favorite food places utterly destroyed. She turned her head but quickly looked away after seeing the bloody hand prints that decorated the door that led to the kitchen.

The bottom of her lip disappeared as Sumin closed her tear pooled eyes. A few drops trickled down her cheeks, alerting Seokjin. He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder before pulling her body towards his. He wrapped his arms around her, resting his cheek against her head as he whispered loving words, hoping to soothe away her sadness.

“It’s just not fair, Jinnie.”

“I know, princess, but at least we have each other.”

Sumin sniffled before mumbling, “Kind of like how Hoseok had Lainey?”

Jinnie chuckled at her sudden lighthearted comment as he pulled away from his now smiling girlfriend.

“No. I think you’re thinking of Renae, sweetheart.” He corrected. Though he secretly could be wrong as he too couldn’t remember which girl, he and Sumin successfully paired Hoseok up with for his third blind date.

Quickly wiping away any remaining tears, Sumin cleared her throat a few times before speaking,

“I don’t think so, Jinnie. It could be this one girl. Oh, what’s her name…?” She trailed on, snapping her fingers in hopes that it’d help her remember. Then, it finally clicked. “Ah! Bunny, I believe, was her nickname!”

Seokjin shook his head briefly humming before correcting Sumin yet again.

“Nope. Wrong again, princess. She ended up with Jungkook, remember?”

Sumin lips fell slightly open, silently berating herself for having the worst memory. Granted, she and Seokjin busied themselves with saving the human race and fighting off countless undead hordes, so that played into her favor.

With her brows knitted together and her lips thinned, Sumin thought long and hard on who the fuck ended up being Hoseok’s girlfriend. Alys? No, she remembered that she wound up with Namjoon. Kenzie? That was also another no since she ended up with Jimin—or was it her good friend Lindy? Oh, my God. Sumin drew a fucking blank on the name as she swiftly ruled out another friend of hers, Bean, who ended up being Yoongi’s adorable girlfriend.

“Fuck!” She mentally cursed as she gnawed on her bottom lip, desperate to figure out who ended up with Hoseok.

Seokjin, on the other hand, laughed at how serious yet adorable Sumin looked. He found it especially cute when her cheeks puffed out as the frustration slowly washed over her face.

Should he be a good boyfriend and help her? The amused young man quickly weighed his options, finding both the pros and cons to helping Sumin out but decided to assist his poor, agitated girlfriend.

“It’s Nina.”

“Nina? Oh! Nina! I’m a dummy. I can’t believe I forgot her.”

Seokjin gave a lop-sided grin as he wrapped a loving yet protective arm around Sumin and repeated, “It’s okay,” and “I still love you, stupidity and all.” He then guided her away from the ruined food court and resumed their journey inside the mall.

Laughter echoed throughout the three abandoned floors of the humongous building. For that brief moment, Sumin and Seokjin were simply two lovebirds on a simple date.

The loving couple recollected all the times they ended up at the mall after an extravagant dinner. Seokjin gently caressed the back of Sumin’s date, releasing a chuckle or two as she recalled the time Jungkook stole a black leather jacket.

“I’m still trying to figure out why he thought it was wise to steal the mannequin as well.” Sumin laughed, smiling brightly as she oddly felt relaxed.

Seokjin shrugged, “I have no clue, but with Jungkook, I never do. That boy has always been a strange one.” Suddenly, sadness clouded his handsome features, halting his steps, the more he thought about Jungkook and the rest of his close friends. He had yet to receive any news on their whereabouts. The last time he heard anything was 7 years ago.

7…long…years…

Before he could dwell on his friend’s untimely demise, he felt a warm hand cup his dirty cheek. His solemn gaze trailed down and met Sumin’s loving and comforting stare.

“Hey. Think positive, Seokjin.”

“How can I? For all I know, they could be long dead, and I wasn’t there for them, like the older brother I was supposed to be for them.”

Sumin sighed but quickly validated his feelings. Shit. She felt the same way about her close friends and family, and she allowed the guilt to eat away at her conscience. However, it wasn’t until the 3rd year of this pandemic that she turned the blame into resolve and swore that she would avenge everyone she loved.

Softly rubbing Seokjin’s marked up cheek, Sumin plastered a sweet smile and said,

“Once we find that safe haven, we will go look for your friends, okay? I mean, they have Namjoon and Yoongi with them, so the rest of them can’t be dead. Alright?”

The distraught boy nodded his head as the corner of Seokjin’s mouth twitched.

His princess always knew what to say, especially to light a fire underneath his depressed ass.

He sweetly pressed his lips against her forehead and muttered a quick, “thanks,” before taking her hand once more and resumed their exploration.

The completely smitten couple journeyed to the third floor, both of them finding it humorous that they actually walked up the broken escalators. Years ago, when it worked properly, the duo always rode it up to their designated floor. Even when it became evident that walking up the escalators were so much faster. However, they didn’t care.

They were proud to be called the “lazy” couple within their group of friends. Shoot. Sumin secretly found it amusing that they were dubbed that since she and Seokjin studied medicine before this horrific pandemic began.

Funny how everything turned out for the two of them. Seokjin became her protector, and she carried the cure that could potentially reverse humanity back to its original state.

Jogging away from Seokjin with a mischievous gleam in her eyes, Sumin peered behind her shoulder, enticing her boyfriend to chase her. Soft laughs escaped her sweet lips as she picked up the pace, wanting to increase the distance between their bodies.

“Be careful, princess!” advised Seokjin, feeling the anxiety slowly settle within the pit of his stomach. His worried gaze remained on Sumin’s retreating backside as the gap grew wider with each passing second.

Out of frustration, the concerned fellow ruffled his hair before running after his woman. Within minutes, Seokjin closed the gap between them and protectively wrapped his arms around Sumin’s torso as he shouted,

“Gotcha!”

Sumin laughed, smiling radiantly as her boyfriend peppered her face with soft kisses and whispers of adoration.

“You know that I love you to the sun and back, Sumin. Right?”

“Of course, Jinnie,” She turned her body, though, she was careful to not whack him with the hilt of her Katana, “And you know that I love you to the moon and back. Right?” She said sweetly and softly.

Seokjin hummed in response as his brows furrowed together.

Sumin gawked, lightly slapping his chest, and pulling away from him.

“I’m kidding, princess! Please come back! I need you in my arms, or else I’ll die.”

“Oh, my goodness. You’re such a drama king, Jinnie.”

“Well, yes, but that’s beside the point! Please give me a hug?”

Now, it was Sumin’s turn to playfully think about it. Then, not even a minute later, the stubborn young lady simply shrugged and walked up to her pouty boyfriend. She cupped the back of his neck, locking her fingers into place, and gently pulled Seokjin’s face towards hers. Their noses lightly bumped into each other as their dirt-stained foreheads pressed against one another.

The two of them, dawning warm smiles, remained lost in each other’s gaze for what seemed like forever until something captured Seokjin’s attention.

“Is that one of those luxurious contest cars?”

Sumin perked up her brow as she peered behind her shoulder. Her eyes widened as she untangled herself from Seokjin and ran up to the car, much to his dismay.

Curiosity got the best of her as her calloused fingers traced the cold metal of the car. She couldn’t help but admire how beautiful the car still looked despite its surroundings destroyed.

Well, until she heard a loud smash, causing the poor, unknowing girl to flinch as Seokjin swung his assault rifle back to its original position, blissfully unaware of Sumin’s death glare. He then carefully reached through the broken window and tried to feel for the door lock. His fingertips grazed the car door handle a few times before finally latching over the lock. Seokjin pulled it towards him, the two of them heard a click before swinging it open.

Like the gentleman he was, the attractive young man gestured towards the door, politely bowing his head at Sumin.

“Your chariot, my lady.” Joked Seokjin in a poorly imitated British accent.

Sumin chuckled lightly as she shook her head, brushing her shoulder against his.

“Why, thank you, my good sir.” She played along before removing her Katana from her back, making it easier for her to maneuver inside the vehicle.

Using the sleeve of her leather jacket, Sumin carefully brushed off the broken window shards from the car seat.

“You know, I’m thankful that the car battery died because you would’ve definitely attracted a crowd of zombies to us, you impatient dork.” She quipped, shimming her way towards the backseat. The exhausted lady let out a massive sigh of relief as she rested her head against the leather seats. Through a tired, cloudy gaze, Sumin squinted at the door and then realized something.

“Hey, Jinnie.”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“You’re a jerk for having me shimmy my way towards the backseat,” She then reached over the backdoor and unlocked it, “When you could’ve just reached even further and unlocked this door as well.” She finished, opening it up and flashing him a knowing smile.

Seokjin rolled his eyes as he teasingly closed the door on her before finally entering the car. He quickly placed his gun on the passenger seat and then put both hands on the steering wheel.

With a boyish grin written on his face, Seokjin glanced over his shoulder and asked,

“Where to, princess Sumin?”

A soft chuckle escaped her lips as she leaned in her seat and poked her head between the two front chairs. With an alluring smile painted on her lips, Sumin hovered her mouth over his ears and whispered sweetly,

“To the stars…” Before grabbing his shirt and pulling him towards the back of the seat. Though, it was a bit difficult at first given how bulkier and taller he was than her.

A faint grunt exited his lips as Seokjin found himself plopped next to the love of his life. His eyes bore into hers as he couldn’t help but admire how breathtaking she was despite going through hell and back.

Without a single thought in his head, the utterly smitten young man cupped his girlfriend’s stained cheek, gently caressing it. Then, slowly, the two of them inched their faces closer. Their eyes flickered from each other’s loving gaze to their lips before the gap finally closed.

A gentle moan escaped Sumin’s lips as she entangled her fingers in Seokjin’s hair. She slowly massaged his scalp, resulting in a low moan from Seokjin as he anchored one hand against the door-frame and the other against Sumin’s hip. He slowly lowered her body onto the seat, careful not to accidentally bump her head against anything.

“I love you, Kim Seokjin,” Sumin whispered, briefly breaking their passionate kiss.

Seokjin, slightly panting, simply smiled before capturing her precious lips once more. He poured all the love he bore for the woman underneath him and hoped that she knew how much he loved her.

For that single moment, Seokjin knew that actions spoke louder than words. Releasing her addicting lips, he trailed fiery kisses down the side of her face all the way to the base of her neck. His teeth lightly grazed her soft skin, causing a few moans to leave Sumin’s mouth, further igniting Seokjin’s hormones.

His hands buried itself underneath her shirt, the warmth of her skin contrasted the coolness from his hands. Seokjin’s fingers lightly trailed upwards, and just as his calloused fingers grazed the fabric of her bra, they heard a loud, terrifying shriek.

The couple instantly broke apart, fixing up their disheveled appearance as Seokjin promptly peeked through the window. Now on full alert, he hurriedly scanned the area; his ears picked up even the tiniest of sounds. Then, the thunderous, horrific cry echoed throughout the mall once more.

Not wanting to chance it, Seokjin quickly instructed – well more like demanded – Sumin to run for cover while he provided covering fire.

Her mouth fell open while her eyes went round. Did Sumin hear him correctly? What Seokjin planned was a suicide mission as the hordes would easily overwhelm him. Still, deep down, Sumin knew that as she studied his overall body language. The frantic young girl vigorously shook her head, rejecting his idiotic idea with her entire body.

“Well, do you have a better idea, princess?” Seokjin asked, giving her a look.

“Yes, you run beside me, and we protect each other,” Sumin paused, cupping both sides of his face, “Like we did every single time we faced these undead bastards and will continue to do until it’s no longer necessary.” She finished in a courageous tone of voice.

Seokjin was rendered speechless but soon composed himself. Sumin was right because if he ended up dead, then who would protect her in his stead? No one worthy of her that was for sure. He needed to remain alive for her sake.

And she needed to remain alive for his sake…

Taking a long, deep breath, Seokjin’s eyes sparked with fearlessness as he stared at Sumin. He gently took her hand into his and quickly pressed a sweet kiss on the back of it.

“Okay, as soon as I open this door, you better be running right beside me. Got it?”

“I should be telling you that, Jinnie.”

Seokjin snorted, ignoring her comment as he pulled on the door-latch and opened the car door. He quickly grabbed his weapon from the passenger seat before diving out of the car. He readied his semi-automatic and peeked through the scope, looking for any scouts. Luckily, he saw none, but they needed to hurry and find cover. Then, his ears picked up a soft grunt followed by a string of swears.

With an amused grin, Seokjin glanced to his side, noticing Sumin rubbing her chin.

“Let me guess you hit yourself with that Katana.”

“Shut up and run.”

Sumin repositioned her sword and began running with her pistol out and ready to fire. Seokjin quickly followed behind, mimicking his sweetheart's every movement. This continued for a few more minutes until they found a suitable hideout and ducked behind the concrete wall. The two lovers seized that relaxing opportunity and calmed their irregular breathing. The last thing the two of them needed was to pass out while fighting a raging crowd of zombies.

Slowly, the loving couple inhaled the sweet oxygen through their nostrils and exhaled it through their mouths. With each breath they took, Seokjin and Sumin felt both their physical and mental strength restored.

They were ready to fight once more…

Slightly tilting his head, revealing this lazy smile, Seokjin gave Sumin a quick glance-over, making sure she didn’t have any secret injuries.

“So, are you ready for round 3?” He jokingly asked.

Sumin snorted, “Round 3? It’s more like round 5 at this point, Jinnie.”

This time it was Seokjin’s turn to let out a quick snort as he stood up with his assault rifle ready to fire at any given moment. The second he stood up, the blood-curdling shrieks grew near. Seokjin gave those undead gnats about ten seconds – give or take – before they swarmed their position.

“Careful, princess. People might think you’re talking about our sex life.” He joked, shamelessly winking at her as he pulled the trigger, firing a few rounds at the undead horde.

Sumin rolled her eyes as she unsheathed her Katana and shot up from her spot.

“What people?” She quickly gestured at the two of them and then at the never-ending onslaught of zombies that approached them, “In case you haven’t noticed, Jinnie, we’re the only ones here, so you have nothing to worry about.” She bluntly stated, completely missing Seokjin’s sarcasm, before impaling one zombie and decapitating the second one before raising her gun.

Sumin then cocked back her pistol and aimed it at the enemy, emptying the clip as she landed head-shot after head-shot. She hurriedly reached for another ammo clip and loaded it into the pistol.

Meanwhile, with Seokjin, the poor boy shook his head as he observed how frantic Sumin slowly became. He swiftly focused his weapon on her direction and fired at the zombies that threatened to swarm her.

“With you around, sweetheart, I will always worry.” He announced as he quickly fired at the zombies that rushed towards their direction. He then spun around and fired at his original path.

Sumin’s face reddened but soon composed herself, though her cheeks remained rosy.

She quickly cleared her throat before speaking,

“And to think, I thought you couldn’t get any cheesier.”

“Only for you and always for you…”

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