#star palace banquet

[betterhalfai]

The Star Palace of Bengaluru is adept at fulfilling all types of requirements for party arrangements and get-togethers. They have the most humble staff and their skills in serving the clients are incomparable. The hotel has both veg and non-veg cuisines prepared by the most talented chefs worldwide. You can try this place if you are residing in Kasavanahalli or a nearby area for the best ever experience.

[sw5w]

Theed at Night

STAR WARS EPISODE I: The Phantom Menace 01:36:53

I didn't realize Guido's Tower and the Earl of Vis' banqueting rotunda actually appeared in the movie. I thought they were just added in for the Inside the Worlds/Complete Locations maps as filler. Pretty cool! (original scene lightened to show tower and rotunda)

[elfy-elf-imagines]

Tolerate It | Thranduil

▹ Pairing: Thranduil x Human!Reader

▹ Genre: Angst

▹ Words: ~2k

▹ Summary: A political alliance makes you the new wife of the elven king Thranduil, trapping you in a gilded cage of elven craft.

▹ Notes: I couldn't get this idea out of my head.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The banquet hall of Eryn Galen was buzzing with high energy. 

The lights were bright, the drinks flowing. Each guest was too deep in their cups as the band played jaunty tunes that kept spirits high. You sat at the end of the table, to the direct right of Thranduil, Legolas seated directly across from you to the king's left. 

Everything was beautiful, similar to what you imagined heaven may look like. The celebration had been highly anticipated, the steward meticulously planning for months to ensure the night would be perfect. 

Each guest had dressed to the nines, and you had been no exception. Silks that flowed like a languid river, braids woven throughout your hair, and glittering jewels that rivaled the stars in the sky. You’d felt quite pretty after your handmaidens finished, taking in your appearance with rapt attention. 

Yet as the king - your husband - met with you, he barely paid you more than a glance. Not a single compliment or acknowledgment slipped from his lips, just the stiff offering of his arm and a cold demeanor you’d never been able to break through.

Not even the bitterness of the red wine you drank could ease the pain festering inside you. You glanced at Thranduil, his attention on his steward whispering something in his ear. Regal and commanding, you’d thought marriage to the elven king would be something out of a fairytale. Yet your story became twisted, and instead of a happy ending, you were trapped in a doomed marriage. It was like a wall separated you from him; you’d tirelessly beat against it with a hammer; Thranduil was on the other end, reinforcing the stone. 

You glanced down at your dress, the pale green fabric, Thranduil’s favorite shade. Even still, you were desperate for his validation and approval, like a child tugging at their father’s sleeves. A stray hair fell in front of your face, and you pushed it behind your ear, hands ghosting over your rounded ears. Maybe if you’d been an elf and not a human, he might view you as an equal and not a consolation prize. 

One hand below the table closed into a tight fist while you downed the rest of your wine in one gulp. 

Legolas met your eye from across the table with an almost apologetic grin. You returned it with a tight smile you tried to make pleasant. Legolas knew all too well the neglect his father could inflict, so he often preferred the forests over the palace. There was an understanding that made your pain more bearable. 

The handmaidens you brought from home and your stepson, who was older than your eldest living relatives, were all that kept you from falling into true despair. 

Like clockwork, a servant filled your chalice, and you gladly drank. This wine was sweeter and less sharp than the red you were expecting. Once again, you looked towards Thranduil, no longer speaking with his steward but quietly watching the party play out. You reached out, delicately placing your hand over his, only for his to push it away, not bothering to pay you a glance. 

The blatant rejection stung, always taking up too much space and time. Would Thranduil even notice if you’d stolen away into the night? If you pulled the dagger your marriage embedded in you, breaking free and leaving this miserable life behind. What might it be like to shed the weight of Thranduil’s cold disposition and an overly suspicious, judgmental, elvish kingdom? You’d be free and weightless for the first time in years. 

Yet, just as soon as the fantasies came, they fizzled out with the weight of reality. You had no money of your own, no survival skills, and nowhere to go. If you returned home, your father would ship you back to Thranduil. The dark forests and the creatures that lurked within would kill you. There was nowhere to go. No freedom to be found. 

You didn’t bother hiding the frown on your lips; no one in the room paid you much mind. They looked through you as if you were a phantom that clung to the residence of its former life. How was it possible to be in such a crowded room and yet still be so alone?

"How much longer do you believe this will go on for?"

At some point, Legolas had moved from across the table and was now seated to your left, watching the crowded room with thinly veiled discomfort.

" I hope for not much longer. I've never been amendable to crowds so large as this one."

Legolas laughed, the noise swallowed by the noise of the room. "And yet you are queen; should you not be used to such raucous parties?"

You tilted your glass towards him, a slight quirk on your lips.

"I could say the same about you, prince."

He nodded in silent agreement, quickly drinking from his glass, which you noticed was filled with water and not wine.

"I get to run off to the forest. How do you deal with all of this?" The smile on your face fell as your eyes dimmed, a reminder of your current standing.

"No one pays me mind. A blessing, I suppose." You attempted to laugh it off, but you couldn't keep the somberness from your tone. You were trapped in a gilded cage, a prisoner in your own home.

"Then I suppose I'll need to take more respites in the castle."

"You don't need--"

"I insist; what kind of friend would I be if I didn't check on your wellbeing."

So warm and inviting, it made you wonder how Legolas could be the son of Thranduil; he must take after his mother. You wondered, if only for a moment, how different your life might be if you'd been married to Legolas instead of his father. He was the more age appropriate option and if he didn't love you he'd at least respect you. But those thoughts were pointless; you'd been married to Thranduil and not Legolas.

"I think I'm technically your stepmother."

"But you feel more like a friend."

You didn't bother to argue, placing down your wine chalice to take a cool water drink. It was refreshing, soothing the burn the wine had created.

"Then I am glad we are friends."

Before he could respond, a member of his guard called his name. The elf enthusiastically waved him over, yelling something in elvish too slurred for you to understand.

Legolas shook his head, refusing the call, but you placed a single hand on his shoulder.

"Go, enjoy the night. I'll be fine over here."

He tried to discern if you were being dishonest but found nothing but sincerity. Just because you were miserable didn't mean he should be. With a single nod, Legolas left the table to join the group forming in the corner of the room.

Left in the chaos with no one to speak with, you picked up the chalice with wine. At some point during your conversation, Thranduil wandered off, talking with some of the higher-ranking nobles.

Thickly, you swallowed, hiding your face as you slowly drank from your glass.

When would this torment end?

---

The night dragged on at an impossibly slow speed. Your sorrow brought time to a near halt. By the time the crowd began to thin and Thranduil had escorted you back to your shared chambers, you’d forgotten how many glasses of wine you consumed. You managed to keep your composure and pride, not letting you show how light and lethargic the alcohol made you. 

Now, you sat before your vanity, preparing for bed as did Thranduil. There were so many pins placed in your hair that you struggled to pull them out without ripping your hair. Your head throbbed, and your frustration was building; you just wanted sleep. A cold hand pushed yours away, tangling in your hair. With practiced and fluid movements, Thranduil began to take down your hair. He was quick and efficient, his hands in your hair almost soothing.

The action was oddly domestic, and it caused a pang of pain in your chest. If the gods had been fair enough to bless you with a husband who loved you, this would be a nightly occurrence, not a rare show of care. 

“There’s too many pins in your hair.” Always critical; nothing would ever be good enough. 

A beat of silence passed; did he even want you to speak?

“It was a special occasion; I wanted something different done to my hair.” 

Clink. He placed the last pin on the table and stepped away from you.

“It was a bit gauche.”

Expression tight, you stared at your reflection, focused on your dark hair that tangled too quickly and your nearly pallid complexion. Gauche and graceless, the elves would never view you as their own. 

“I thought it looked nice.” 

His answer was to silently turn his back to you, moving to the other end of the room. The silence was maddening. Your attention never moved from your reflection, lips downturned as your eyes hardened. Pain turned to rage, pity becoming an all-consuming fire that threatened to turn all in your wake to ash. 

“Why marry me?” Your tone was harsh, firmer than you could remember speaking.

Thranduil let out a sigh, seemingly annoyed at your mere presence. Normally, his disregard made you shrink, and maybe it was the wine, but it only made you straighten your back, meeting his eyes through his reflection in your mirror. 

“To seal an alliance with your kingdom, you know this.” He was always condescending; he was so much older and wiser. 

“I understand political marriages, but why marry me? You’ve managed political alliances without offering your hand in marriage; you even have a son to marry off. So why--” You slowly stood from your chair, turning to face him directly. “-marry me?”

“Would you have preferred to marry Legolas?” 

“I’d prefer you answer my question. So I’ll ask once more: why marry me?” You strode towards him, eyes narrowed.

“To ensure an alliance with your family.”

“That is it? For no reason other than that.”

Thranduil looked down at you, his lips tight.

“Did you hope to hear differently?” He tilted his head, eyes ice cold and bitter. “Ours was a marriage of convenience, not love.”

You clenched your jaw, swallowing thickly. All of it for nothing, a marriage he knew would never succeed. He may have been content with a loveless life after the passing of his wife, but he knowingly dragged you into it. To turn your life into a void--

You wanted to scream, to yell obscenities at him, to spit all the vile venom his careless behavior filled you with. But it would do no good. An emotional breakdown wouldn’t mend your rift; there was no foundation of respect to rebuild. It was just endless nothingness. Standing at the precipice, you would simply fall into a never-ending pit. 

“I see.”

A hint of shock made his eyes widen a fraction, expecting an outburst like the one you fantasized about. Humans weren’t known for patience, yet it wasn’t patience that kept you silent. It was dejection; you'd given up hope of anything better than what you had.

You dared not move, not even blink until Thranduil turned towards the door.

“I think I will ensure the keep is secured. Goodnight.” 

Head turned, yet your eyes remained where he once stood; you remained silent. The door opened and quietly shut behind his retreating form. Only then did you exhale the breath you’d been holding. 

The bed was plush under your body, and the comforter was like a cloud, yet you’d never felt more miserable. You turned your back to the side Thranduil would take when he returned to the chambers. Eyes shut, soothed by the darkness, you dreamed of something more.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Tags: @jmablurry | @lunatichaotiche | @aearonnin | @emiliessketches | @vibratingbones | @moony-artnstuff | @ranhanabi777 | @kenobiguacamole | @ceinelee | @thranduil | @samnblack | @abbiesthings | @Strangebananabatranch | @bitter--fruit | @keijibum | @lifestylesleep | @themerriweathermage | @im-a-muggleborn | @sweetheart-syndrome | @boyruins | @AwkwardBecomesYou | @delyeceamaitare

[edenesth]

TWTHH Spinoff: Written in the Stars [Teaser]

Pairing: military strategist!Mingi x royal physician!reader

AU: historical au (Joseon era)

Summary: Mingi had spent countless years searching for the angel who saved his life when he was on the verge of death. He believed god was on his side when she finally reappeared before him, but she was now so near yet so far, so unobtainable. No longer just a young medical trainee, she had become an esteemed royal physician—a woman working within the palace walls. And what did that mean? It meant she now belonged to His Majesty.

A/N: Credits to @sundaybossanova for contributing the main idea of Mingi's spinoff. I might have changed most of the proposed plot, but the MC's identity as a physician and how the two first meet remains Sunny's idea.

Main Story | Spinoff Masterlist | Part 1

"Ooh, guess who's here again," your colleague remarked, nodding toward the entrance of the royal medical hall where a certain tall, handsome military strategist strode in for what felt like the thousandth time this week. You sighed, refusing to look up from your book. "Please tell me it's not him."

She gulped, watching him approach. "Hate to break it to you, but it is your not-so-secret admirer, General Officer Song."

"Good afternoon, ladies. I, uh… I'm here today because—" his familiar deep voice rang out as he paused at a respectful distance.

Clearing your throat, you finally closed your book and turned to face him with a courteous smile, finishing his sentence for him, "Good afternoon to you too, Officer Song. Let me guess, you're here because you got hurt during training again?"

Instead of the usual sheepish nod, he shook his head and nervously fiddled with his fingers. "No, actually… I came to ask if… i-if you would like to accompany me to the royal banquet celebrating Joseon's unity with Ruhon tonight, Royal Physician Ahn?"

You froze at his question, and your colleague mirrored your reaction. The two of you exchanged bewildered glances, trying to process the fact that this fool was openly pursuing you, a woman working in the palace, someone who belonged to the King.

Does he realise what he's doing?

You're probably wondering why I'm posting this on a Wednesday (depending on where you are) but it's a public holiday here today in Malaysia, so surprise!! It's finally Princess Mingi's turn! The way y'all thought his spinoff would be the first and here he is HAHA

In case you're confused and are not sure what I mean by MC belonging to the King, please read ✨this✨

As always, I'll do my best to get the first part out as soon as I can! Let me know your thoughts on the concept! <3

Tag list (1/9):

@itstheghostofmypast @huachengsbestie01 @minghaoslatina @weedforthoughtz @minkiflwr |

@cheolliehugs @the-kpop-simp @writingwieny @stayatinykatsy @skzline |

@green-agent @stayinhellevator @vampzity @tinyteezer @evidive |

@vantediary @superbbananananana @kimyeolchan @chocolate-scoups @decadentstrangernacho |

@vic0921 @marievllr-abg @sunnyhokyu @seungmin-in-thebuilding @heyitsmetonid |

@sansaurora9904 @darkestacademiamindsx12-blog @myblovedjyh @professormingisglasses @newworldwritings |

@chicken-fifi @thunderous-wolf @shythinggiver @madnpan @yandere-stories |

@anxiousskylar @frobin4ever @starssongs98 @dollce-exe @jan-l |

@lovelyred2 @haven-cove @watermelon2319 @dreamingofyeo @akimkim |

@scuzmunkie @satsuri3su @mismatchfluffysocks @borntoshineateez @st4rhwa |

@ddaeing @tropicalsstuff @bts-army380 @skteezcursed @beauty143 |

@naps-over-degree @brown88 @sis-101 @lemon-sage17 @jcalicocatj

All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[yanderelionwrites]

I'm Not Sad, Just Tired - Yandere!Leona x Reader

Content Warning: (soft) yandere, implied kidnapping/captivity, Stockholm Syndrome slowly setting in perhaps? 👀

Word Count: 1.1k

(Kind of a part 2 to this but I think this can be read on its own)

It’s another banquet you couldn’t care less about.

You had been strongly encouraged (read: guilt tripped) to accompany Leona to the event by his sister-in-law. And who were you to deny the Queen’s request? You sucked it up and let Leona escort you around, maintaining as far of a distance you could get away with while having your hand placed on his arm.

It’s obvious why Leona was so intent on ditching. This party blows. 

You can’t recall what the celebration is even for. It was most likely for some diplomatic reason, though you’re pretty sure the king just likes throwing parties at this point. Either way, it has only been an hour and you are already tired of it.

The guests had finished eating and were now dancing the night away. You manage to lose Leona in the crowd, taking this chance to be alone and heading out of the venue. You can’t take another minute rubbing elbows with these people.

The palace’s hallway is silent, save for the muffled music coming from the party and the clicking of your shoes against the tiled floor. You stroll down the corridor, not heading anywhere in particular. You just need to clear your head and get some fresh air.

Stumbling upon the palace’s courtyard, you find a bench to rest at. There’s a sense of tranquility here; it’s the perfect place to take a break from faking a smile for all of the Afterglow Savanna. It also gives a nice view of the night sky up above.

You’re enjoying the peace until you hear footsteps approaching you from behind. At first you think it’s Leona, the man who is persistent in keeping you next to him, but the steps sound too light.

Turning around, you see little prince Cheka trying to creep up on you. His big, brown eyes widen in astonishment when you take notice of him and he slightly pouts.

“Awww! I wanted to surprise you! I thought I was being so quiet too…” Cheka whines, hopping up onto the bench to sit beside you.

“Wha- Cheka? What are you doing out here by yourself? You should have been put to bed by now,” you say, swiveling your head left and right to look for any of his attendants.

“I’m not sleepy yet, so I snuck out!” he admitted happily.

You sigh and shake your head, ruffling his hair. “Of course you did. If you don’t go back to your room, Kifaji or your retainers won’t be very happy with you.”

“But I wanna stay with youuu.” Cheka hugs your arm and presses his cheek against your shoulder, nuzzling it. “And with Unca! How come he’s not here with you?”

Grimacing, you shrug and try to brush off the subject. “He’s still at the banquet. Now you should really go back to bed, Cheka-”

The cub ignores your request and plops his head on your lap. Curling up so he can still see your face, he asks, “Do you like Unca Leona?”

Where did that come from? You tense and avoid his curious stare, opting to gaze up at the stars. “Why do you ask?”

“You always look sad near him.” Cheka yawns and turns the other way. “Are you sad?”

Darn this perceptive kid. You don’t want to tell him the truth. You can’t tell him the truth. He wouldn’t understand. How would you even explain to him that his uncle and everyone else in this palace are basically holding you here against your will? That his uncle, his idol, is a selfish, irritating, possessive, clingy, and manipulative prick?

Okay, well, he wasn’t that bad. He makes sure you’re as comfortable as you can be here. And he’s been fairly patient with you even after all the crap you have spewed at him. But still. Not the point.

“I’m not sad, sweetheart,” you lie. “It’s just…complicated.”

“Unca really loves you. And me, Mama, and Papa love you too! So don’t be sad, okay?”

Easier said than done.

You remain silent, petting his hair to try and lull him to sleep. It works like a charm, with Cheka’s soft snores being heard not too long after.

“So this is where you ran off to. You know, it kind of hurts when you decide to up and ditch me like that.”

You don’t have to look up to know who it is. Your small reprieve from Leona is cut short as he stalks into your field of vision. His neutral expression turns into one of slight annoyance at seeing Cheka curled up on your lap.

“Great. I see the little furball has escaped his room once again. Kid never fails to give me a headache.” His voice is just above a whisper so as not to arouse the sleeping child. He knows that if Cheka did wake up now, he’d never fall back asleep.

“We should take him to his room before anyone freaks out about him missing,” you sigh. You move to pick up the young prince, but Leona stops you.

 “I’ll carry him,” he resigns, taking him from your lap.

Trailing after Leona down the hall, you can’t help but think the scene before you is endearing. As much as he denies it, he truly cares for his nephew’s wellbeing.

You two reach Cheka’s bedroom, and Leona sets him down against the massive amounts of pillows and stuffed animals that are strewn across his bed. After unceremoniously draping the blanket over his small frame, Leona leaves just as quickly as he entered. You stay behind, however, taking the time to properly tuck Cheka in and making sure he’s nice and settled. You hesitate for a minute, before leaning down and pressing a light kiss to the young prince’s head, whispering goodnight to him.

Leona watches from the doorway, a hint of jealousy swirling in his eyes. He feels a pang in his heart as he wishes he was the one you’d treat so gently and affectionately. That you’d kiss him goodnight, maybe even cuddle up next to him in his bed before drifting to sleep together. That you’d actually care about him like he does about you.

Your smile drops after you leave Cheka’s room, turning back to that look of disinterest you wear these days. You don’t meet his eyes when you point in the direction of where the banquet was being held.

“Well, I guess break time’s over. Should we head back over now?” you ask.

Leona stuffs his hands in his pockets and walks past you. “Nah. It’s not like we’re needed there. I’m turning in for the night.”

“Oh, ok… Well, goodnight then.”

That’s rare. You’re actually saying that to him this time.

“Yeah… ‘Night.”

And with that, you both go your separate ways towards your rooms. It would be another cold night without you or your love, but Leona will just have to endure.

He’s used to it by now.

~~~

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated!

[oct0bra1ns]

It's been so long i forgot how i formatted my posts, oops. @keencoffeefox here ya go

The throne room echoed with silence, broken only by the heavy rustle of your ceremonial robes. The crown on your head weighed more than gold—it carried the burden of resentment. Across from you stood your older brother, Prince Adrian, the rightful heir who had everything ripped away. His sharp gaze followed you like a predator, cold and unforgiving.

"Enjoying the weight of my crown?" Adrian’s voice dripped with scorn. He stood too close, his lips curving into a sneer. "I hope it crushes you.That crown doesn’t suit you,” he muttered, the corner of his mouth curling in disdain. “It’s just waiting for you to fail.”

Ever since you were named the new heir, Adrian made no effort to hide his contempt. His presence felt like a constant threat—sharp words, veiled glares, and subtle reminders that the crown would always belong to him. Even the warmth of family dinners had turned into silent battles, with him watching your every move as if waiting for you to slip.

And yet, despite his hatred, a small part of you still wanted his approval, the approval of your older brother who used to play with you, who used to sneak you out of lessons to go into town.

The brother who once looked at you with love, now looked at you like you were his greatest enemy.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The attempt on your life came without warning.

It was a quiet night in the palace gardens. The scent of blooming roses filled the air, and the moonlight cast a pale silver glow over the winding stone paths. You had stepped away from the banquet to breathe—just for a moment. Alone, under the stars, the crown’s weight felt almost bearable.

Then, out of the shadows, a figure appeared—a glint of steel in their hand. Before you could react, the assassin's dagger plunged deep into your side, pain searing through your body. You staggered, blood soaking your clothes, your strength draining with each breath.

Your knees buckled, and you collapsed onto the grass, gasping for air. The world blurred as the garden spun around you, voices dimming into distant echoes. But just as the darkness threatened to pull you under, you felt a familiar, frantic grip on your body.

"NO!"

Adrian.

He was there, catching you before you could hit the ground. His hands pressed hard against the wound, trying to stop the bleeding, crimson staining his fingers and sleeves. His perfect composure shattered, leaving only raw panic in its place.

"Stay with me!" he whispered harshly, his breath ragged. He cupped your face with one trembling hand, forcing your unfocused gaze to meet his. "You can’t die. I won’t let you die."

For the first time, there was no trace of the cold, condescending brother you knew. His usual scorn was replaced by something far more terrifying—desperation, fear, and obsession all tangled together.

He looked down at you as though the thought of your absence was worse than any betrayal.

"Guards!" Adrian’s voice sliced through the night like a whip. "Find whoever did this! Bring them to me—alive!" His expression twisted with fury, a storm brewing beneath his calm mask. "They’ll pay for even thinking of touching you."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You woke to the soft glow of candlelight flickering across the room. The scent of cedar and smoke was unmistakable—this wasn’t your room. Your side throbbed beneath tightly bound bandages, every breath a reminder of the dagger that had nearly ended your life. The silk sheets were too heavy, too warm, cocooning you in a false sense of security.

As your vision cleared, you saw him. Adrian sat at your bedside, hunched forward with his elbows on his knees, his fingers threaded through his hair. His royal poise was gone—he looked dishevelled, haunted, like he hadn’t slept since the moment you were attacked.

The moment you stirred, his head snapped up. The intensity in his gaze pinned you in place, making your heart race.

“You’re awake,” he breathed, the tension in his shoulders unravelling slightly. But instead of relief, there was something fierce in his gaze—an intensity that made your skin prickle. He leaned forward, resting one hand on your shoulder to keep you from sitting up further.

“You shouldn’t be moving,” he said, his voice quiet but edged with a sharpness that left no room for argument.

“I’m fine, Adrian,” you muttered, though the pain in your side made it clear you weren’t. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”

His expression darkened, and for a moment, you regretted speaking. “Not as bad?” he repeated, the words brittle with disbelief. “You were bleeding out in front of me—do you think that’s something I can just forget?”

There was no anger in his voice, only fear masked by frustration. His grip on your shoulder tightened slightly, not enough to hurt but enough to remind you that, in his mind, this was serious.

"Adrian, it’s not your fault—"

“I should’ve been there,” he interrupted, his voice low and trembling. "I should’ve been the one taking that blade, not you." He exhaled shakily, pressing a hand against his forehead, as if trying to rein in emotions that threatened to spill over. "You’re my little sibling... How could I let something like this happen to you?"

You shifted uncomfortably under the weight of his words, but Adrian leaned closer, his eyes clouded with something between guilt and obsession.

“I thought I hated you.” His voice was barely above a whisper, as if saying the words aloud made them heavier. “I thought losing the crown was the worst thing that could happen to me. But when I saw you lying there—” He broke off, his hands curling into fists. “I realized I didn’t care about the crown. I just wanted you to live.”

Silence hung heavy between you. The brother who had once stared at you with cold resentment now looked at you as though you were the only thing keeping him tethered to the world.

"Adrian," you began cautiously, "I’m not going anywhere."

His lips twitched into a small, fragile smile—one that didn’t reach his eyes. “You say that now. But if I hadn’t been there..." His voice trailed off, his jaw clenching as if the thought alone was too painful to finish.

“From now on,” he whispered, his voice low and resolute, “you’ll stay close. No more wandering off alone. No more reckless decisions.” His hand slid from your shoulder to hold your wrist, his grip firm but not harsh. “I’ll make sure of it.”

You frowned, pulling slightly against his grip. “I can take care of myself—”

“No,” Adrian said firmly, his voice sharp and final. “You won’t do this alone. I won’t let you.”

Adrian leaned forward, resting his forehead gently against yours in a rare, tender gesture. "You’re my little sibling," he murmured,"And I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe. No matter what."

You felt his arm slip around your shoulders, drawing you closer into an embrace that felt suffocating.The warmth of his touch was overwhelming, as if he believed holding you close would be enough to stop the world from taking you away again.

"You don’t need the crown," he whispered against your hair. "You only need me."

[togenabi]

with flowers under the stars

inumaki toge x fem!reader (royalty au)

♡—Toge does his best to impress you, even when others might not want him to.

previous♡— [PART 1]

word count♡— 4.1k words (oml)

genre♡— fluff, romance, royalty au

aged up characters♡— 18+

content notes♡— potential lovers to actual lovers, mutual pining, courtship, dating, everyone is a prince or princes, older brother!gojo satoru, no use of y/n, romance, very fluff, mentions of engagement and marriage, toge uses sign language, some characters may be ooc >&lt; pls forgive me

author's note♡— after rising from the grave (I'm so sorry this took so long! buT! I'm graduating! AAA) I finally finished the sequel to my first toge fic. thank you so much to those who have appreciated my previous work! now that I'm back, I hope you enjoy this as well! (⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘⁠)♡

Exchanging letters with prince Toge occurred frequently before you finally met again. He talked about many things, but they all ended the same way: mentioning how lovely you are and how he wishes time could run faster so he could meet you.

Toge's kingdom was a week on ship and a day by train away, so visiting was saved for important duties or events. ‘Maybe I should ask your brother to appoint me an official position in the council so I can stay in the palace.’ He wrote to you once. You reply that he doesn't deserve it, since he wouldn't be working with the empire or its people in mind.

He writes back that he fell for you a little more, and you trace that line an infinite number of times before tucking the letter away.

When the day of the banquet finally arrives, Satoru notices that you appear a bit more lavish than you usually care to look during events.

“Why! My dearest sister! How stunning you look! And for my birthday, no less! I love that color on you, your taste has improved so much!” He suddenly gasps dramatically and loudly—so loud, that the maid helping you with your earrings flinches.

“Are those... the earrings I got you last year? But I've never seen you wear them! I would give you a hug if it wouldn't ruin your clothes!”

You ignore him the entire time he fusses over you. He looks nice today, you admit. His hair is styled down which gives him a softer aura, and his white suit with gold details looks pristine. A midnight blue cape drapes over his shoulders and flows down his back. It would be difficult for anyone else to pull it off, but you don't tell him that. Goodness knows he would never let you hear the end of it.

You sigh as you watch him through the vanity mirror, but he only becomes even more giddy at your silence.

“Hey, give me that.” Satoru says to the attendant holding your brush. “Leave us.” He says as he stands behind you to brush your hair. You stare at him in disbelief.

Satoru knows you love when he brushes your hair. Even if you never outright told him, it was obvious that you enjoyed it when he cared for you. But because you were embarrassed to ask him as you got older, he hasn't done it since you were children.

He's silent and focuses on brushing your hair gently. The moment feels strangely emotional, and your resolve to ignore him cracks a bit.

“So...” Satoru meets your eyes in the mirror, then winks. “You and Toge, huh?”

You tsk, letting your resolve fully break. “I should've known you would notice.”

He laughs and places a hand on your shoulder. “Well, he wrote saying his father wanted to trade silk from their territory, and that he would like to stay at the palace to handle the negotiations.”

“...Add that to the letters you're receiving everyday, and it wasn't too hard to piece things together.”

You groan and cover your face in embarrassment. You and Toge weren't exactly a secret, but you didn't want your brother to know until it got more serious.

“So what now?” You dread having to ask. “Are you going to tell me to call it off?”

“Nope.” Satoru says, smiling. “Besides, if you're anything like your dear old brother—which, you are! Don't deny it!—I'll end up driving you into his arms if I try to keep you away.”

His eyes suddenly turn serious as he considers his next words. “He's a good kid... Good enough for you, though? We'll have to see.” He places the brush on the dresser, and takes your hand to help you on your feet.

“But what's important is to know yourself and decide for yourself. Don't let anyone else make that choice for you.” He looks sincere as he places your hand on his arm. “Shall we?”

“Satoru...” You call him, touched. He grins and kisses your forehead.

“And of course, if you end up marrying him, that saves me and the ministers the work of looking for your match!” You slap his shoulder, but he only laughs harder as he escorts you out.

The ballroom was sparkling when you arrived. There were already plenty of guests partaking in the revelries as the event had begun half an hour before. Satoru had insisted on the importance of being fashionably late. Normally, you wouldn't have let him actually be late, but you caved only for today.

“Entering, their Royal Highnesses, The Imperial Crown Prince and The Imperial Princess.”

As you descended the stairs with Satoru, the people bowed and you took that as an opportunity to look for a head of white hair, a mask or a high collar covering half the face.

“You're being too obvious.” Satoru whispered. “He'll show up, don't worry.”

He led you to the center of the hall. You were so caught up on looking for Toge that you had nearly forgotten you were to share Satoru's first dance; as he still wasn't engaged. The both of you took your positions gracefully as the music started to flow through the air.

“I'll spin you a few times.” He was grinning. “Try to spot him.”

And yet, the song ended without you seeing Toge anywhere. After giving a hasty bow to your brother, you went on with your search once again.

Your eyes caught princess Nobara the same moment she did yours. You were about to go greet her when her eyes trailed off to something behind you. When her gaze returns to yours, she's smirking and it makes you turn to look at what she saw.

Toge takes your breath away as he walks up to you. He wasn't wearing a mask, or a high collar like he had been during the previous ball. His suit was pitch black and every bit as elegant as him. Your eyes were immediately drawn to his lips and you blushed when he caught you staring. All you wanted to do was to dance with him so that you had an excuse to be close.

It seemed that he picked up on that, as he bowed and offered you his hand.

“It's good to see you again.” You greet him. He kisses the back of your hand with a smile before sweeping you away to dance.

Suddenly nervous, your words get stuck in your throat as the beginnings of a soft waltz reach your ears. “I... tried looking for you when I arrived.”

Toge leads the dance as effortlessly as he did the first time. It almost amazes you how natural it feels to move and sway with him. He seems pleased to know that you were paying him as much attention as he gave you.

Not wanting to simply dance, you took to asking him questions. “Did your journey here go smoothly?” Toge nods.

“When did you arrive?”

‘Today.’ He mouths.

“Ah. I'll have to take you sightseeing then.” You grin up at him. “Would tomorrow be alright?” You get your answer in the form of Toge grinning back, and before you could prepare yourself, he twirls you around and catches you in an embrace as the song finishes with a flourish. A number of people around you started to clap, and you couldn't help but blush in his arms.

After settling at the less crowded side of the ballroom, Toge explains, ‘I also tried to find you. I arrived as early as I could, and yet you and your brother were late.’ He looks at you almost as if to scold you, but you see mischief in his eyes. ‘I thought that you might be by the window where we met... So I went to check.’

“Oh, I see.” You respond, a bit embarrassed. “I should have warned you about my brother's flair for dramatics. He tends to do that when he's the star of the event.”

‘Do you have any remaining commitments here at the ball?’

That makes you think for a moment. “No, Satoru's the one the people want to bother today. Why?”

Toge gives you a look that makes you want to agree to almost anything he asks. ‘Will you allow me to whisk you away?’

And so you were both running, hand-in-hand and laughing, on your way to that secluded hall with the stained glass window. It shouldn't have been possible, but it felt more magical than before to be with him here again.

Toge slows his steps when you both reach the window. You realize that despite coming to cherish this place, you never sought it out when he wasn't around. Something tells you that would have only made you miss him more.

Looking at you with a serious expression, he begins to sign, ‘I know I have been very upfront about myself caring about you... But I want to ask this properly, because you deserve nothing less than the best.’

‘I would like—if it is alright with you, to formally court you.’

The smile on your face glows before you can help it, and you throw your arms around him.

“I would very much like that as well, my dear prince.” You lean to kiss his cheek.

Toge looks dazed and happy as if drunk on something you had given him. Maybe he was.

The moonlight shining through the glass paints him in a kaleidoscope of colors. Before, the only colors on him were the purple hues in his eyes. And now he stood before you, bright and shining.

‘You look beautiful.’

He took the words right out of your mouth.

���｡˚ 🌸 ˚｡⋆｡˚✨˚｡⋆

Satoru came to find you the day after the banquet. Naturally, he entered your office without knocking, and unceremoniously dropped a heavy document in front of the one you were already working on.

“What's this?”

“Toge's proposal...”

The floor seemed to sink, your heart and your breath gone along with it. “What?”

“—for the trade negotiations.”

It took everything in your power to not throw the block of papers at him. “You're unbelievable.”

Satoru only hummed. “So is your boyfriend. I can't believe he's making me work right after my birthday! He should be kissing up to me, not giving me paperwork!”

“Last time I checked, he's courting me. Not you.” Nevertheless, you take a few moments to sift through the document. It was very detailed and efficient. You note that the length of the proposal was due to the many alternative plans Toge had prepared. This would certainly help the negotiations go smoothly. Satoru and the ministers merely had to look at the options.

Looking back to your brother, you couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. What was he complaining about, when all he had to do was select the best plan and tweak where it was necessary?

“We're to begin the negotiations in two days. I think his plans have potential—” You couldn't help but snort at that, from what you'd seen, Toge was already excellent. (You were not biased. Not at all.) “But, I don't think the older ministers will be kind to someone who acts like a know-it-all.”

“Toge doesn't—”

“A-ah,” Satoru waves a finger at you, as if you were a child being told what you did wrong. You scowl at him but he ignores it. “This will be a test for him, to see if he's able to win against those old goons.”

“You mean yourself, then?” His expression drops at that, and you don't bother to hide how satisfied that made you feel.

⋆｡˚ 🌸 ˚｡⋆｡˚✨˚｡⋆

As the weeks flew by, Toge ended up being a lot more busy than you both anticipated. Despite officially dating, lunches together turned to having tea during breaks; then that turned to catching him in the hallway for a few moments before he had to go.

You didn't understand why his workload only seemed to grow, no matter how much effort he put in. Once, when you caught him just before he entered his chambers, you had asked him if anything was going wrong with the negotiations.

Toge looked exhausted, and yet he gave you a smile that made your heart melt. ‘No, the talks are going well, I suppose I'm just having trouble adjusting to the empire's work culture.’

You must have looked unconvinced, because Toge suddenly leaned in and rested his forehead against yours. Mischievously, he stared into your eyes until you were too flustered to be worried anymore. He laughed when you had to push him away.

That night, he bid you farewell with a kiss to your cheek.

‘Good night, darling.’

The next time you had Toge to yourself for an entire day, it was due to a holiday celebration. Everyone was too occupied with the festivities to work. You were supposed to be at another banquet Satoru had hosted, but you were determined to monopolize Toge's time today.

So you showed up at his door at the earliest respectable hour of the morning, dressed for warm weather and a picnic basket in your hand.

“Will you allow me to whisk you away?” You asked when he answered the door.

You took him on a tour of the parts of the palace he hasn't seen yet. Your office, the private library, and even some of the secret passage ways. His eyes lit up with curiosity when you showed him one behind a portrait.

You had lunch in the gardens, under a tree that offers wonderful shade. A soft blanket laid across the grass, with a spread of the empire's specialty dishes arranged all over it.

“This one,” You show Toge a cookie with flowers piped on top. “Has been my favorite since I was a child. It has just the perfect amount of sweetness, and goes beautifully with tea.”

You move to hand Toge the cookie, but he doesn't take it. Confused, you're about to ask him if anything was wrong when he leans forward and opens his mouth expectantly.

Wordlessly, you raise the cookie to his lips. The moment feels oddly intimate as he takes a bite without removing his gaze from yours.

Toge hums and moves his hands to sign, ‘It's indeed delicious.’ He leans to you and opens his mouth again.

You push the half-eaten cookie into his hands and turn away to hide your blush. “If you're able to tell me what you think about it, you can eat it yourself.”

He breathes out a laugh. Smirking at you while he chews the remaining cookie.

It was so peaceful, just sitting there with him. And it seemed as though you weren't the only one who wanted to sit with Toge. A tiny white butterfly fluttered about before landing on his knee. He looked so enchanted by it. Staring close, but being careful that he didn't move his knee or disturbed it.

The butterfly flying away made you want to explore too. Getting yourself up, you look over your shoulder and gesture for him to follow. He offers you his arm once he catches up, and you rest your hand on it. Birds chirp and leaves rustle in the wind as you walk towards the shimmering lake at the edge of the gardens.

Bracing yourself on Toge's arm, you kick your shoes off. You set them aside to dip your toes into the water. “It's so refreshing!”

Toge feels his chest grow as warm as the sunlight kisses your cheeks. He gets down on one knee to untie his shoes when he's abruptly hit by a splash of water. Flabbergasted, he looks up at you, blinking away the water droplets in his lashes.

Of course, Toge isn't one to back down from a challenge. The result is the both of you shivering and drenched by the time the sun has set. Your maids fuss all over you when you get back to the palace, and the other staff almost faint at the puddles that trail after you and Toge.

It was useless to insist that you could walk alone and that you both should get cleaned up at the soonest. Toge didn't leave your side until you entered your chambers, your gazes only being broken by the door once it closed.

⋆｡˚ 🌸 ˚｡⋆｡˚✨˚｡⋆

You got the most dreadful fever after that day with Toge. Satoru, wanting you to rest properly, made you swear not to lift a finger for work related reasons until you got better. Which, you followed without complaint. You took a break for a few days.

Toge did his best to see you, but he only got busier. His eyes looked more and more tired, dark circles under them when you caught him in the library one morning. He stayed there to work overnight. You were barely able to convince him to rest.

On another night, one of your maids caught him trying to sneak in your room, screaming and kicking him out. You could have sworn half the palace had woken up to that, and you couldn't help but hide under your sheets due to the embarrassment.

What irritates you most, however, was that the first thing you heard when you get back is, “Oh. Finally decided to return to your duties, eh?” from a delegate who spent most of his time gossiping, and whose biggest contribution to the empire was refilling the inkwells in the conference room...

The conference room has five inkwells.

Those ministers and court members were proving more and more to be nuisances. You gave them an earful when they had assumed you were slacking off when you were sick.

Not to mention, you suspected that they have been making Toge do more work than he needs to. Even if he never complains, you don't fail to notice how some courtiers turn their noses up at him just because his kingdom was distant and smaller compared to the scale of the empire.

The thought of Toge being belittled makes you pause during work, frowning at a chart of kitchen expenses as if it's done something offensive.

Dropping your pen, you head out of your office with brisk steps. You had to speak to Satoru.

⋆｡˚ 🌸 ˚｡⋆｡˚✨˚｡⋆

“Overworking Toge? Why, dear sister, I can't believe you're accusing me of such a thing!” Satoru puts a hand to his heart as if he was wounded by your words.

“Maybe not.” You're not going to let him weasel out of this one. “But you let the other ministers and court members walk all over him! Is Toge supposed to just sit there and take it? He's a prince, damn it!”

“Listen,” Satoru leans forward, his elbows on his desk as he uses his hands while explaining. “The ministers are just a bit frazzled, that's all. They think he forced you to skip the holiday banquet, and that he got you sick. He's good at his work, sure. But in their eyes? He just looks like a bad influence on you.”

You scoff.

“Now,” Satoru interrupts before you can say anything, “They were going to try and match you with prince Megumi—”

“Megumi's already engaged.”

“I know, I know. And that's why they're planning on pitching you with prince Yuji or princess Nobara.”

“I'm already with Toge.” You say sternly. “And what happened to not letting others make my decisions for me?”

“As far as those old goons are concerned, Toge is only the third best for you. ‘For the greatness of the empire’ and all that.” It doesn't escape you that he dodged your question. “They're going to try to push you apart until you break up or get hitched.” He leans back, crossing his arms on his chest. “Whichever comes first.”

“Why don't you stop them?” Frustrated, you run your hands through your hair. “Tell them I really like him and that they should leave him alone!”

“Sweetheart,” Satoru's tone becomes deeper, and you hate how it instantly makes you shut up. “The thing is, if Toge isn't capable of handling this, or if he backs out of your relationship because of it, he's not worth your time.”

You stare at him, unlinking. The thought of Toge leaving you had never occurred to you before, and Satoru could tell.

“I told you I would test him.” He shrugged. “It seems I'm testing you too.”

Rushing back to your office, you grab a piece of parchment and your pen from your desk. Not bothering to sit down as you write: Meet me at the gardens, by the tree. Midnight.

You fold it and hastily stuff it into an envelope. Delicately melting wax, you stamp your seal onto it before calling for your most trusted maid.

Handing her the letter, you instruct her, “Deliver this to prince Toge and prince Toge only. If anyone hinders you or attempts to read it, report back to me immediately. Go.”

She bows, and exits the room.

That night, Toge arrived before you. You note that he has a penchant for being early as he reaches to squeeze your hand. He looks you over to check if you're alright, and despite seeing nothing of concern, he asks anyway, ‘Are you okay?’

“We need to talk.” You nervously purse your lips. “The courtiers, the ministers... My brother. They've been making your work difficult.”

He sighs. ‘You found out.’

“You didn't tell me!” You rest a hand on his cheek, absentmindedly grazing your thumb over the marks near his mouth. “Do you understand what they're trying to do?”

‘Testing me.’

“Yes.” A lump forms in your throat. “Satoru said it's until you give up on me, or if you... propose.”

Heart racing, your hands can't stop fiddling with things. His face. His hair. The fastenings of his suit. “I'm just so worried. I care a great deal about you, and I just wanted to ask if you're enduring this because you want to.” You bite your lip in thought. “If it's because you're sure about... me.”

You can't look at him. You suddenly feel foolish. You should have given it a night and slept on it to gather your thoughts. You should have—

Toge embraces you. Everything stops.

You take in the view of the gardens over his shoulder. It was dark, and there was barely any light save for the stars twinkling above. You closed your eyes and let yourself be held.

Pulling away, he doesn't seem as fazed as you do, if at all. He turns to you slowly, and after taking a deep breath...

‘Marry me, then.’

You choke on air.

“Wh-what?!” A warmth creeps into your cheeks. “What are you—”

He places his hands on your shoulders and stares into your eyes. He gives you a look and mouths, ‘Breathe.’ And you do.

Once you've calmed down, he begins to explain.

‘We can come forward and make a statement that we've been seeing each other with marriage in mind. Which...’ He pauses, suddenly shy. ‘I have. I've been thinking about swearing everything to you... Intertwining my future with yours.’

‘I know it's only been a few months, so we could have a long engagement if you want. For us to get to know each other more. And if—’ Toge's hands freeze, his movements are slow as if the next words pain him.

‘...If you decide to break off the engagement, I will not force you to stay with me.’

You immediately stop his hands, holding them tightly with your own.

“Toge... I wouldn't even consider this with anyone else,” You feel genuinely happy as you smile at him. “But I'm willing to try. With you. Only you.”

He glows in a way that reminds you of when you first met. His expression is soft as if he's melting, and he smiles at you brightly. You think of how lucky you are that he looks at you this way.

‘This isn't the way I wanted it to happen, but...’

Toge picks a small, white flower from a bush nearby. It faintly reminds you of the butterfly that had flown to him the last time you were here together. His eyes are focused and he frowns in concentration as he fiddles with the stem. Your heart stutters as he makes... a delicate ring.

He kneels.

You say yes.

⋆｡˚ 🌸 ˚｡⋆｡˚✨˚｡⋆

A letter from you and Toge arrives on Satoru's desk the next day.

‘Dearest brother,

Please approve this statement that prince Toge and I have been seeing each other, and that we have decided to get engaged. You will find the formal document stamped with our seals attached to this letter.

We expect your approval posthaste, and I will not consider any objections. Please let us know when you will be available to discuss the engagement ceremony.’

“Your highness, what should we do with these documents you had forged?”

“Oh. Hand them over.” Satoru waves a hand to dismiss the attendant after retrieving the files.

He gets up from his desk and walks to the fireplace. “I can't believe he proposed before I could falsely accuse him of treason.” He tsks and throws the documents into the fire.

His eyes find a framed photograph on the fireplace mantel. It was of him and you as children. Satoru was laughing after you ran to him for a hug. His gaze grows sad yet understanding... He won't be the first person you'll turn to anymore when you get married.

Sighing, he considers that he should be thankful you chose someone determined and true like Toge. But then Satoru grins.

“I suppose I can always mess with him as his brother-in-law.”

⋆｡˚ 🌸 ˚｡⋆｡˚✨˚｡⋆

© togenabi 2023 | see here to be added to my taglist ♡

[whiteskullofroses]

Hi! I saw that you accept request for Baldwin IV. If you do still accept, could you pls write one where y/n and Baldwin would stay up too late talking to each other until one falls asleeps? Thanks 💕

Hi there thank you for the request! And to clarify, you can always request any characters you want❤️ Enjoy!

LATE NIGHT TALK

Baldwin Iv x reader

It was a cold night in Jerusalem. You were walking around the palace gazing up at the stars and thinking about life when all of a sudden, a familiar voice grabbed your attention: "Y/N!" He called out to you from his room. It was all lit up with candles so you could see his shape clearly: "Care to join me?" The young king's voice sounded so energetic, even though it was already midnight. You answered: "With pleasure!" And happily headed out to his quarters.

Once you reached the hallway that led to his room, you noticed that the door was already opened for you but still, you knocked on the wood to make your presence known.

He turned from his desk to look at you. His mask shone from the candles around him and made his blue eyes sparkle.

"Care for a round?" Baldwin gestured towards the chess set and sat down at the table. "Y/n" Sitting down and listening to his words "I've missed you tonight. I rarely see you these days."

You smiled and replied: "Work has been incredibly tiring," taking a sip of some wine a servant poured: "I've hardly found any time for friends."

Baldwin leaned closer to you: "Well now it's the time. Relax."

You started the chess game and asked: "How come weren't you at the banquet last Monday?"

The King moved a pawn and sighed: "I had an unexpected meeting which I couldn't miss."

Nodding, you moved on since you didn't want to trouble him with hard topics so late in the night.

"Have you read any new poetry lately?" Asking him like you always do, you always loved to listen to him talk about the things he was passionate about, one of them being literature.

Whether it be myths from across Europe containing dragons and other mystical beings or poetry that many saw as simple, however from a trained eye's perspective it was true art projected onto paper.

"Yes, I've read this wonder piece from a book from France Preseren called 'Poezije'" Grabbing the book from a nearby chair and flipping through it, Baldwin proclaimed: "Would you like to hear it?"

"I'd love to, Baldwin." You supported your head with your elbow on the table, as the late hours of the night cut into your brains. "Where did you get it from?"

"I believe I got this book as a gift from my sister when she visited Carniola."

Finally, he started reading, his voice soft as ever:

Fresh flowers will spread fragrance far and near,

Like roses when the winter's passed away.

Your eyelids became heavier and heavier with every word he spoke:

And spring displays its marvelous array,

While through the trees white scattered blossoms peer

Your breathing became deeper, with waves of relaxation washing through your body. All of a sudden you felt like you were 10 years old again, when your mother used to read you books to help you fall asleep.

All this time away from your parents and away from your childhood made you forget how soothing it was and how much you enjoyed it.

Baldwin continued reading the poem whilst you were drifting off into peaceful sleep, right there on his 'chess table'.

He hardly noticed you falling asleep right opposite to him as he was focusing on the text he was reading. But when he finished reading the poem and looked up from the book, he realized you slept through half of it.

He chuckled to himself. Baldwin wasn't mad or annoyed with you, rather he felt a sort of fulfillment that he managed to get you to fall asleep.

For a moment he just sat there, staring at you. You didn't know it at the time but he admired you deeply. For your intelligence and your beauty. He found that this was one of the times he could truly silently look at you and not feel bad about it.

Whenever he would catch himself gazing upon you he would get this guilt deep in his chest. He felt as though it was appropriate for him to look at you when the two of you were just colleagues.

So he slowly walked up to you and carefully picked you up. Walking up to his bed and laying you down in the middle, he knew he couldn't sleep there that night, that would be simply too much.

He decided to go and spend the night in the guest room. Just as he was about to leave your side, you woke up and grabbed him by the wrist, gently but enough so he could feel it.

"Baldwin, stay."

THE END.

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

Act 4 Prologue (Azel Radwan)

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors and inaccuracies.

At the same time, in Tanzanite--

The throne room located on the palace's top floor was filled with the joy and excitement of the people.

Amongst the clamor surrounding the night, the immense full moon enveloped the people as if protecting them.

Azel: "Silence."

With just one word from the deity atop the throne, the people immediately fell silent, looking up at the god with awe.

His mystical eyes, filled with stars that seemed to belong to the night sky rather than a human, scanned the people with compassion.

Azel: "The divinations have revealed your fate. Under the divine will, you need to formulate a policy as soon as possible."

Azel: "It's up to you whether you want to utilize or disregard the mercy of the gods. Just don't disappoint me, for the heavenly moon is always watching over you."

As the current deity rose, the people who seemed lost in a daydream all kneeled and bowed their heads simultaneously.

Among them was a man wearing a crown.

King of Tanzanite: "We've prepared a banquet for you. Please, do join us."

Azel: "I appreciate the offer, but with a God present, you may find it impossible to indulge in wine."

Azel: "I shall take my leave, so do not concern yourselves. Ah, and a farewell is unnecessary. I dislike unnecessary fuss."

Azel: "Well, then, have a good night. May the divine grace be upon all the people."

As the fervor waned, the natural tranquility of the night returned.

The deity, walking with resolute steps, suddenly halted when a woman, a dancer, blocked his path.

Woman: "Greetings, esteemed deity."

Azel: "I've just said that your concerns are unnecessary."

The woman held a variety of banquet dishes, their enticing aroma filling the hallway.

Woman: "I apologize for misunderstanding the divine will. However, I thought perhaps you might not attend the feast tonight."

Woman: "This is a modest offering from me. If you would be so kind, may I serve you?"

Azel: "I appreciate your dedication. However, it's unnecessary."

Azel: "I'm in a hurry, so could you please step aside?"

Woman: "Please don't say that. After the lengthy divination, I'm sure you must be hungry."

Azel: "No, it's fine."

A rumble suddenly came from his stomach, momentarily disrupting the sanctity.

Azel: "Anyway, it's okay. Leave me be and go to the feast."

Woman: "Please wait!"

The woman attempted to block his path again as he tried to move forward forcefully.

Azel: "Ah, these clueless folks who just don't get it, no matter what you tell them."

Unaware of his muttered words, the woman stumbled over his foot while trying to approach and fell to the floor along with the dishes.

He looked down at the scattered food and the groaning woman without even offering a hand.

Azel: "Poor thing."

Woman: "Esteemed deity?"

Azel: "I feel sorry for the food that was wasted."

Despite smiling gently, his mysterious eyes seemed completely unconcerned about the events that had taken place.

Azel: "Lick it up."

Woman: "Eh?"

Azel: "It would be a pity if the food went to waste, wouldn't it?"

Azel: "Look, this soup still looks edible."

Azel: "If you crawl like a dog and lick it up, it won't be wasted."

Woman: "What are you…?"

Azel: "Of course, I'm a kind god, so I won't force you to do anything."

Azel: "You're free to follow or defy God's will."

Woman: "........."

Her hesitation lasted only a moment.

She lowered her face to the floor and began licking the spilled soup with her tongue.

As she repeated this several times, something suddenly happened.

The woman's skin gradually flushed, emitting a scent suitable for the night, and her heated gaze met his impassive expression.

Azel: "So you really did slip in an aphrodisiac. Your fortune for today seems to be very unlucky, doesn't it?"

Azel: "Ah, no. Perhaps it's actually very fortunate."

Azel: "Since your beloved god didn't taste it."

Woman: "Please have mercy."

He turned his back, keeping his distance from the woman who reached out to him.

Azel: "Feel free to please yourself all you want. Well then, I'll take my leave."

Azel: "It's already past my working hours, and working overtime is just out of the question."

Woman: "I like you! I'd do anything for you!"

Woman: "Would it be a sin for me to love you?"

Azel: "Let me tell you one thing."

Azel: "Gods don't love people because love is worthless."

Azel: "If you are willing to give me a fortune equivalent to Prince Silvio's, then I might consider it."

Azel: "But if not, it's unpleasant to even have you in my sight."

Woman: "........."

Azel: "Since it looks like you're not getting what I'm saying, let me make it clear."

Azel: "It's time for you to disappear. Get out of my sight, slut."

Woman: "Eeek!"

As if it were all a dream, his face lost all compassion.

With a coldness rivaling that of the desert night, he stared at the woman as if she were a bug.

Azel: "Your feelings are neither love nor anything of the sort. It was just the prattle of a depraved slut drowning in filthy desires."

This time, there was no one to stop his stride.

The god laughed and smiled under the divine glow of the full moon, devoid of mercy or compassion.

Azel: "This nation under the protection of gods is still living in a happy dream."

Azel: "Even though the day when this eternal dream shatters is approaching, I wonder if I'll ever be able to laugh at it."

☆ Ikepri Masterlist

[saunne]

AMPHOREUS LORE - AGLAEA ANALYSIS

So, I think everyone saw it, but we were graced today with the drip marketing for Aglaea, a 5-Star Lightning unit on the brand new Remembrance Path. Hence the reason why I’m back from the dead, in order to dissect and analyze everything I can about this sliver of lore we were given.

1. Who is Aglaea in Greek Mythology ?

Aglaea (Ἀγλαΐα) can be translated to “splendor”, “radiance”. It is the name of the youngest of the Charites or Graces, minor goddesses said to be patronesses of amusement and festivities, presiding over things such as grace, beauty, adornment, mirth, banquet, rest, happiness, relaxation etc. Although there are many names associated with the Charites, it is customary to recognize three main ones : Aglaea (Splendor, Beauty and Adornment), Euphrosyne (Cheer, Mirth, Merriment and Joy) and Thalia (Abundance, Festivities and Banquets). 

The Charites also served as attendants for Hera and Aphrodite, Homer specifically associating them to the retinue of Aphrodite. There are also mentions of their involvement with the Underworld and the Eleusinian Mysteries (secret rites for Persephone and Demeter), although exact sources on this specific part are lacking. I’m still keeping it however, for some specific reasons.

They were said to be the daughters of Zeus and Eurynome, one of the elder Okeanides. However, according to the Orphic Hymns, their mother would rather be Eunomia, the goddess of good order and lawful conduct. Their godly father being Zeus, it could explain why Hoyoverse chose to make Aglaea a Lightning unit.

Another interesting fact is that Aglaea is sometimes equated with Charis and according to Hesiod’s Theogony, this would make her Hephaestus’ wife, following his divorce with Aphrodite. This is interesting for one specific reason : the automatons surrounding her in her drip marketing. Hephaestus was the Olympian god of fire, smiths, craftsmen and metalworking and some of his greatest achievements were the Automatones, animated metal statues of animal, men and monsters. Among these Automatons, we find the Kourai Khryseai (Golden Maidens) : woman-shaped, gold automatons serving as attendants for his palace.

2. What can we guess from her titles ?

In the drip marketing post, we were offered a gaggle of titles : Dressmaster of Okhema, Chrysos Heir, Weaver of Gold, Goldweaver, bearer of the Coreflame of Romance… Although they may seem a little obscure, they actually refer to quite a number of things.

Chrysos (χρῡσός) means “gold”, or in a more poetic sense, “something dear and precious”. However, it’s more the “gold” aspect which will interest us, notably because of Aglaea’s character design which is covered in it. Gold was primarily associated with deities, symbolizing power, authority, wealth and eternal life (think about the golden apples of the Hesperides).

This brings us to the title “Goldweaver”, which is also fascinating. In Greek Mythology, one of the well-known weaving myth is about the Moirai, the three sisters personifying destiny and weaving the fate of every being in existence. Being the weaver, Aglaea would be equated to Clotho, the Moirai responsible for spinning the thread, responsible for choosing when a person was born as well as when deities or mortals were to be saved or put to death, being able to resurrect people of her choosing (for example Pelops, Tantalus’ son).

However, another weaving myth is preponderant in Greek mythology : Arachne and Athena weaving contest, a long known cautionary tale about the consequences of hubris in the face of the divine. Athena and Hephaestus were considered as the great patrons both of the useful and elegant arts, as Athena was also the goddess of crafts such as pottery and weaving. Aglaea’s title as “Dressmaker” could be a reference to this, and more particularly to the Arrephoros, girl acolytes in the cult of Athena Polias, responsible for supervising the weaving of the peplos used during the Panathenaea. Or it could also be a reference to the Charites’ role as Aphrodite’s attendants, as Homer mentioned they were the one to weave and dye her peplos.

Finally, Coreflame of Romance would have been the most obscure title, if not for all the previous explanations about the Charites’ association with Aphrodite. According to the Dionysiaca, there was once a time when Aphrodite attempted to weave better than Athena out of jealousy, aided in her endeavor by the Charites, Aglaea being the one passing her the yarn. 

3. What about Okhema and Amphoreus ?

Okhema is here referenced to be a city, but we already met that word, in a slightly different form : “Regret of Infinite Ochema”, the Trace material given by Phantylia. An Okhema (ὄχημα) is a carrier/vehicle for the soul in Neoplatonism. It is particularly important in Plato’s Myth of Er, where the main character recount his journey in the afterlife, including an account of reincarnation and the celestial spheres of the astral plane. A city named Okhema could imply either the “vehicle” aspect of the okhema, maybe being a moving city…. or since an okhema could be thought as a recipient for a soul, that the city itself could play a role in anchoring the souls of its inhabitants or allowing their travels/transport from one point/place/state to another.

We’ve got another thing about Okhema, the part “holy city kissed by dawn”. Many places could be considered “holy” in greek mythology. One of them is Elefsina, known as Eleusis and holy site of the Eleusinian Mysteries mentioned earlier alongside Delphi, where is kept the omphalos (the chinese name for Amphoreus is the word omphalos). However, the “kissed by dawn” was more interesting, as Greek mythology have a personification of the dawn in the goddess Eos, often equated with Hemera.  Eos’ myths are heavily connected to Aphrodite, in addition to her being the mother of the Anemoi, the greek gods of the winds and in the post, Aglaea said “the wind brought me news of you”.

About Amphoreus… we know next to nothing about it, except its moniker “The Eternal Land” and that it is “hidden away from outside observation, its presence only revealed by the light from the mirror of the Garden of Recollection” according to Black Swan. It was also mentioned that it was  “fettered by three Paths” and given the involvement of the Garden, it seems safe to bet on Remembrance being one of them. I think Amphoreus could honestly be a place filled to the brim with memoria, if not entirely dreamscape-like, similarly to Penacony’s Dreamscape.

Amphoreus reference the amphora, a container used for the storage and transportation of various goods such as wine and oil, in addition to being a common support for vase painting. One interesting thing is that painted amphoras were often used for funerary purposes, as graves markers or recipients for funeral offerings or human remains. Which is even more interesting considering that the post mentioned “the dying land of Amphoreus”, which leads me to think that one of the three Paths fettering Amphoreus might be Finality. 

As for why it’s dying, the answer is quite explicit when you know your mythology : “they will smite down the gods, return the divine fire”. This is Prometheus myth, and if we have Prometheus myth, we have Pandora’s Box in tow. And  tell me, what is a pithos if not a massive amphora ? In Prometheus’ myth, the gods didn’t take back the gift of fire, but what if they did in Amphoreus ? In addition to letting their Pandora release the curses of death, sickness and all other various evils to plague humankind ?

The idea of Remembrance and Finality being two of the three Paths in Amphoreus is even more endorsed by the mention of granting rebirth.  We know that Fuli’s realm “Eden of Blessed Insight” also known as the Pure Land of Recollection, serves to store memories that “shall serve to reshape the entirety of the world after its annihilation”. It’s basically backup data in case of inevitable doom, in order to recreate the universe as it once was. Aglaea having a “Mnestia” as Divine Authority is also adding to it, as Mnestia more than probably comes from “mnestic”, meaning “pertaining to memory”.

That’s one of the reason why I kept the information about the Charites being linked to the Underworld and the Eleusinian Mysteries, between the funerary amphoras, the okhema and Myth of Er and now that, it seems important enough to keep track of any references to death and rebirth. The aforementioned “Chrysalis” is also counting in said references, as it’s a common symbol for death and rebirth by metamorphosis/transformation.

I have another theory to talk about, but this is already long enough  I fear.

[sw5w]

Theed at Night

STAR WARS EPISODE I: The Phantom Menace 01:18:07

[distortionbobble]

Royal Flowers Chapter 10

pairing: anakin skywalker x f!reader

series summary: A long, long, time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, a certain Jedi by the name of Anakin Skywalker meets you, the current Queen of Naboo and adopted cousin of Padme Amidala, and is tasked with protecting you by pretending to marry you. As a spy, you’ve infiltrated the Separatist ranks and are close to finding out the mastermind behind all of it. The fate of the galaxy is in your hands.

warnings: minors dni. none this chapter, use of the word jizz in the star wars content (needs a warning because i hated typing it out so much)

prev | next

series masterlist

“Naboo is left with little choice,” you say. The microphone makes your voice echo around the walls of the Senate, distorting it like you distort the truth. You know that the Separatists have influence and strongholds all over the Senate, but you hope that they’ll assume that you still have to act in your capacity as the Queen. Besides, Naboo’s official standpoint is with the Republic, as represented by Senator Amidala. Padme’s in the audience now, nodding quietly as you deliver your speech. “We cannot defeat the Separatists. I strongly encourage the Senate to act, as what is being done is simply not enough. My people are dying and without the leadership of the Republic, Naboo is all but fallen.” 

There’s a certain grief to your words, the kind that accompanies only the fear of the truth. You don’t want Naboo to fall. You don’t want to see fire and death and blood take over your planet, but there’s so little standing in the way of it.

Chancellor Palpatine stands in the center of the Senate, looking exhausted from your remarks as the next planetary system begins their appeal. There’s too much loss to help. It’s chaos, the galaxy is chaos, but you don’t realize you’ve spoken that into the amplifier until everyone turns to look at you. “The galaxy is in chaos. How is the Senate going to fix this?” You shout. “You have neither the resources nor the organization to protect your own citizens!” 

Your words spark an uproar across the Senate floor, a din of noise spreading as arguing and shouting break out. The Chancellor waves his hands frantically as his aides look on in equal panic. One of them, however, isn’t as subtle at hiding his glee. Perhaps he’s Darth Sidious? He was the Aide for Chancellor Valorum as well, wasn’t he? He must be linked to the Separatists in some way. 

“Silence!” Chancellor Palpatine’s voice echoes around the stadium and finally, quiet settles on the Senators. “That’s quite enough from all of you. I dismiss today’s meeting, and I expect that when the Senate gathers tomorrow, all of you—” and at this, he rather pointedly glares at you, “will have learned some decorum.” He waves his hand in quick dismissal, and then Senators all file out, quietly grumbling at the admonition that you all received. 

“I do wish you hadn’t done that,” Padme sighs from next to you. You walk with some distance between yourselves, because it can’t be clear that you do truly hold affection for your dear cousin. “The banquet tonight is in your honor, and you’ve probably caught the eye of some very powerful Senators now.” She stops abruptly as you nod absentmindedly, your thoughts somewhere else. “Oh, no. You didn’t forget about the banquet, did you?” She asks, panic lacing her tone. There’s decorum to be followed, down to the dress that you wear. You need to send the right message— something grand, something that you’ve worn before. You need to represent the finery of Naboo’s former glory, and the fact that it’s now lost. But Padme doesn’t need to worry. You’ve already packed it. 

“Well, what about Anakin’s outfit?” She asks at your nonchalance. That makes you pause. To be honest, you hadn’t really thought that he was coming. You had left from the palace so frantically that the only thing you could conceptualize was yourself, as selfish as it sounded. 

“Shit.”

“It’s okay,” Padme reassures you, placing her hand on the small of your back as you move through the hallways. “I’ll take him to the Royal dressmaker. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it all, you just focus on getting yourself ready.” 

There’s a small part of you that wants to object. Part of you remembers the way that Anakin looked at Padme and wants to protect him from all that hurt that might come from seeing her again. Part of you doesn’t want him to look at her like that ever again. And it’s ridiculous, and you want to squash it; but you can’t act on it. 

You swallow it down instead, and nod. You just have to trust Anakin’s growth and hope that he’ll be okay around her. 

~~~

“You haven’t told her, have you?” Padme says, breaking the silence as the dressmaker wraps the measuring tape around Anakin’s torso. 

“Haven’t told her what?” Anakin responds, a coldness evident in his tone. He doesn’t mean it. It’s just so hard being around Padme, and he can’t help but take it out on her. All the dreams of having children together, being married and living together without the scrutiny of the Jedi Council. The peace and security that he now has with you was only a dream back then.  But he can’t forget the way he’d fret over her, and those dreams that plagued him. They haven’t left him; instead, now they’re focused on you. All those terrible visions, all those ones about you dying, just like how he’d see Padme die—

“Dressmaker,” She calls softly, dismissing him with an elegant nod. Anakin’s arms drop as the dressmaker leaves the room before he turns to her with irritation. 

“Told her about what? The fact that I snapped, killed all those Sand People when my mother died? All those that stood by and watched as my mother died, tortured to the point of being barely able to recognize me?” Anakin’s mouth tastes bitter. He regrets it now, of course he does. After he watched you go through all that you did with Reyna, he hates himself. Fears that he’s a monster, deep down. There’s something that has grown inside him, like a bad seed, rooting out his compassion and replacing it with that endless fury. He’s afraid of himself. And when he looks into Padme’s eyes, he sees that too. She’s afraid of him because she knows what he did. But you? You’re blissfully unaware, and that look in your eyes is still trusting and unafraid. He can’t bear the thought of you holding that same resentment and fear that Padme holds for him. He wants to bury it; bury it deep, deep down, so that you can’t ever see it. No, he wants to protect you from himself. It’s what any good friend would do, right?

Padme sighs. “I know you think the worst of me, Anakin, but I’ve only ever wanted the best for you. I didn’t have a choice, you know this— I couldn’t let you keep going down the path you were going down.” 

“And what path is that?” Anakin shouts. “You think I’d turn to the Dark Side? When I’m the one meant to bring balance to it?” 

“You know damn well you weren’t far from falling to the Dark Side when you did that. I left to protect you, Anakin,” Padme urges, standing up from her chair as she engages Anakin in her argument. 

“I didn’t ask you to protect me, and I damn well didn’t need it!” Anakin responds furiously. 

“We all need someone to protect us,” Padme responds, equally furious in her response as she nears Anakin. And as he looks down at her face, he almost wants to cry— when did it all go so wrong? 

Padme notices almost immediately, pulling his chest to her and holding him as tears begin to well up in his eyes. He won’t cry, he won’t cry, but dammit, he missed Padme. But even as he’s in her embrace, he’s thinking of you. There’s no electricity between him and Padme now; she holds him like she would a friend. He derives no comfort from her touch, and right now, all he can think is how nice it would be to be in your arms instead. 

“We would have been great friends,” Anakin says, a lone tear slipping past his lower lashes, carving out its path on his face. 

“In another life,” Padme responds, her voice muffled as she holds him for just a heartbeat longer. When she pulls back from him, it’s so clear to see that there’s no longing there, just a faded sweetness. She cares about him. It strikes him that he’s so lucky to have people who care, people who want the best for him. 

“I love you,” Anakin says. The words don’t sound right— he’s said them before, he knows how it feels, but this… this feels garbled. Like his vocal cords refuse to cooperate, like they refuse to cave in to his request. They came out wrong, and Padme notices. 

“It’s different now, isn’t it?” Padme asks quietly, taking his flesh hand in her own, then squeezing it lightly. Their former love, turned to a friendship, now feels obvious. It still leaves a feeling in his gut, like there was a dagger that just got pulled out. And all he wants to do now is collapse into your arms.

“Is the dressmaker done?” Anakin asks, swiftly changing topics as he tries to swallow the lump in his throat. Padme smiles, the bittersweetness of their interaction clear on her face. 

And once again, Anakin feels like the villain. 

~~~

It took you nearly double the time it usually takes for you to get ready. You don’t have your handmaidens, after all, nor do you have Anakin. You wonder if he’s okay after seeing Padme. You hope he is. It’s been long enough since they were split for it to make sense that he could see her without losing his calm. You’ve done your makeup, done your hair, each careful movement of your hand and brush creating a masterpiece of presentation. The Senate ball has a purpose, and you’ll maximize your presence there tonight. But Maker, you feel so distracted. You just want Anakin here, to assuage your fears, talk you through the night, because you are scared. You need to show the Separatists that you will allow their plan to go through but also collect enough support to protect your own people, and do all of it without being detected. 

You’re just struggling to do the last button when there’s a knock on the door. A courtesy knock, because the door swings open almost immediately after it. 

“Hey,” Anakin grumbles. His suit is a near-identical match of yours; the colors, the fraying edges, the tailor did it all to a tee. It’s a masterpiece. But you’re so busy admiring the detailing of his outfit that you don’t notice the obvious distress that Anakin’s in. He sits down on the bed with a sigh, looking up at you with that pitiful look that makes you want to hold him in your arms and kiss the crown of his head. A ridiculous thought, you know, but you just want to comfort him. To hold him, to protect him. 

And you shouldn’t feel that way. 

“Was it too much to see Padme?” You ask, almost anxiously. You don’t want him to still be pining over Padme. Maybe it’s selfishness. Maybe it’s because you want him to feel for you what he felt for her. You want him to care about you, to love you, because you’re lost without him. And maybe, just maybe, it’s because you feel that way about him. 

“No,” He sighs, placing his metal hand on his face. He’s tense, and you just can’t pinpoint why. 

“Is it the dreams again?” You ask quietly, to which Anakin nods. He hasn’t been sleeping well for almost a week. He wakes up so often, waking you up too in his terror. When he thinks you’re asleep, he’ll grab your wrist, allowing his fingers to linger on your pulse point as he reassures himself that you’re alive. You’re not sure why he’s so worried. You are just a mission, after all. But you have to admit, it’s nice to have someone care about you like this. Padme, of course, cares and loves you; she’s practically your sister, she almost has to. But she’s so busy and when you started getting more involved with spying, she began to treat every conversation like it was the last one she’d have with you. 

It wasn’t her fault. You don’t blame her. But it doesn’t take away from the fact that Anakin still hopes that you’ll live. It makes part of you think it’s possible, even if logic says otherwise. 

“Are you ready for the ball?” You ask instead, slipping a silver pin into your meticulously-arranged hair.  Anakin nods again, and you make note of his quietness today. You suspect, in part, that it’s because he saw Padme. Maybe he’s still really not over her. The thought of it makes your hand stray to your wedding bracelet, the threaded chain that sits comfortably on your wrist. You think of the way your parents honored their love with a bracelet just like this; to them, it meant something. It meant love, and trust, and you wonder how they’d react to the fact that the one whose chain matches your own is in love with someone else. 

You don’t understand why you can’t stop thinking about it. Why can't you stop thinking about what it would be like for him to love you? Why do you want it so bad? Your finger slips under the chain and you want to tug it, you want to pull it until it snaps against your skin. 

“You missed a button,” Anakin says, his voice gruff. He stands and comes near you, allowing the pads of his fingers to skim down the column of your neck, your spine, before he reaches the top button of your dress. Your eyes close almost involuntarily, desperately trying to focus your racing mind on just the feel of him, even as it seeks out more. It’s hard to breathe. Your heart is racing, heat gathering at the base of your neck where he’d touched you. You can hear his quiet breathing, feel the movement of his fingers as he buttons the last part of your dress. 

You can tell that it’s done from the secureness of your dress, but he lingers behind you still, shadowlike. His hands don’t move from where they rest on your back, and you want to freeze him, freeze right now, and calm your racing heart. It pulses in you violently, spreading the warmth of his touch all over your body until even your fingers feel electrified. Does he know the impact that he has on you? 

But then he steps back, and you’re able to regain your sanity. He probably was struggling to make it stay, something like that. He wouldn’t just be close to you for the sake of being close to you— it’s Anakin, you still remember all that he told you when you first began this mission. And what you’d said to him. He provided you companionship, which was more than what you had asked for, so why does your greedy heart seek out more still? Are you truly that selfish?

“Well, I think it’s time we go,” you say quietly, your hand straying again to the metal chain. It brings you comfort. You don’t want to think about the eventuality of having to break it off. Anakin searches your face, lips parting softly like he wants to say something but not a sound comes out. Instead, he forces them into a smile, offering his arm for you to hold. 

“You look beautiful tonight, milady,” He murmurs as you step into the hallway, heading towards the ball. 

“You look nice as well, Anakin. Naboo suits you,” You say, feeling shy at Anakin’s compliment.  Beautiful. You look beautiful tonight. 

“It does,” He says, looking at you with something hidden in his eyes. It makes your breath hitch in your throat, and for a second, you see Anakin’s gaze dip to your lips. The look is so brief you think you might have imagined it, but maker, now you’re looking at his lips. They look soft and warm, and your heart feels like it’s in your throat the longer you look at him. 

Before you can stop yourself, your hand places itself on his neck, brushing away a stray piece of hair and lingering there as you stammer to explain yourself. “Sorry,” You apologize. You just wanted an excuse to touch him, you know that. 

You can hear the banquet, or ball, whatever it is, from outside as you cross the Senate’s grass lawns. You’re nervous—hopefully you won’t have to deal with the fallout of what you said during the Senate meeting today. Your foolishness makes you swallow hard. Anakin takes note of your nerves and squeezes your hand wordlessly to reassure you. He’s so damn good at reading you, it scares you. 

By the time you can get inside, the party’s in full swing; the normally reserved group of Senators all a few drinks in, laughing boisterously and moving clumsily to the jizz music that plays. It’s an overwhelming scene, and you find yourself clinging tighter to Anakin. You don’t have the capacity to deal with this right now, but you’ve got no choice. The group of Senators that you need to talk to catch your eye, and you squeeze Anakin’s arm, raising yourself slightly to be able to kiss his cheek. It’s all for show, of course. That’s what you’re telling yourself. 

“I’ll be over there,” You say, leaving him to fend for himself. 

Hopefully he’ll be okay. 

~~~

“I see the wife left you all alone, huh?” A Senator comes up to Anakin, clapping his back as he watches you disappear into the crowd. He wants nothing more than to be next to you right now. Anakin Skywalker does not like big crowds. 

“Yep,” He says shortly, clenching his metal hand into a fist as he tries to regulate himself. It’s too loud, too hot, and worst of all, you’re somewhere else. 

“Senator Jubbs, of Tattooine,” The man introduces himself, grabbing Anakin’s hand and shaking it with his sweaty hands. Disdain makes his lip curl but he stops himself, smooths out his expression. He’s not just Anakin, he’s Anakin Lars, husband to the Queen of Naboo. He needs to play it nice. 

“Tattooine, huh?” He asks dryly, subtly reaching to wipe his palms free of the stranger’s sweat. Disgusting. “Not a fan of Tattooine. Sand just doesn’t work for me.”

“Nonsense,” Jubbs splutters, waving over a waiter to get him a drink. “You’ve got to loosen up, my boy, have a drink,” He notes, taking a rather large swig of his own drink. The drink that the waiter hands to Anakin looks jewel-like, and the glass alone looks like it would have been enough money to free his mother and himself. He downs it quickly, hoping to swallow down his anger before it becomes too evident. “So why is it that you don’t like Tattooine? Are you perhaps from our glorious planet?”

Anakin bites back a scoff. “No, just had the pleasure of visiting,” he says. Sarcasm drips off his tone, and the Senator squints at his thinly-veiled insult. 

“You listen here, boy,” The Senator hisses, stepping closer to Anakin aggressively. Anakin’s good enough at reading body language to know that this is only going to mean trouble. “You’ve got a lot of arrogance for someone who looks like they can’t satisfy their own wife. You haven’t even got two hands, for Maker’s sake. One is metal! You might as well be a droid. She’d be better off with someone like myself,” he says, puffing his chest up. 

That gets to Anakin. His face twitches in disgust and anger, his blood boiling as he looks at the Senator. Jubbs is leering at you now, and the audacity of him to talk about his wife like that makes him furious. 

“You’re nothing,” He says to Jubbs, seething. He maintains his voice at a quiet level— no one around him should hear what he says, but he needs to say it anyway. “And when you’re dead, not even the flies will mourn you, you waste of—” 

“My love,” you say from behind him. You sound like an angel, your touch cool to his skin as you place your hand delicately on his shoulder, bringing him down to your face to kiss him softly, sweetly. He doesn’t even care that it’s fake, sweeping you into his embrace and shielding you from Jubbs as he kisses you, frustrated. His teeth nip at your bottom lip, and he can feel his hunger for you slipping out as he kisses you, trying to get more of you than he’s allowed. You move your lips back in kind, your lipstick smudging on his own lips as they meet. 

Anakin feels territorial. Possessive. He wants to get rid of everyone here, he wants to keep kissing you, he can’t get enough of you. He only lets you go when you place your hand on his chest, pushing him away slightly to talk to the Senator. 

“Could you get me a drink, my love?” you say sweetly, using your thumb to wipe the traces of lipstick from the corners of his mouth. Anakin almost pouts at the thought of having to leave your side, but the look in your eyes makes it clear that there’s no room for arguing. After sneaking one last possessive kiss in and glaring at Jubbs, he leaves to get a drink from the tables set up at the edge of the ballroom. 

How dare he talk about my wife like that? I should snap his neck off. I should slice his head clean off. I want to drive my fist through his face, I want to—

“Anakin,” Chancellor Palpatine calls, snapping him away from his violent thoughts. The old man smiles knowingly at the expression on Anakin’s face, coming to stand next to him. “Jubbs has never been the most tactful,” He sighs. “Fortunately, it seems like your wife knows how to handle him.” 

“I wish she didn’t have to handle him,” Anakin grumbles, pouring himself a glass of water as his fingers dance anxiously. 

“You seem on edge tonight, my friend. Come, why don’t we get a bit of fresh air?” Sheev asks kindly, placing a hand on Anakin’s spine to guide him away. When he turns to look back at you, Sheev laughs. “Love is a blinding drug. She’ll be fine, Anakin.” 

The night air blankets him in its cool, allowing him to sneak in a few deep breaths as he tries to wash away both the hunger he feels for you and the anger he still holds for Jubbs. He doesn’t know what came over him, kissing you like that— like he wanted to devour you. It scared him. 

“Now, tell me, Anakin. What is it that’s on your mind?” Sheev asks, looking up to the stars as Anakin sips his water to calm himself down. 

“I keep having these awful visions. Visions where I lose her in a hundred different ways, and I’d do anything to stop them from coming true,” He says, frustrated and scared. He speaks no lies. The thought of losing you is driving him to insanity; he can’t sleep in fear of the visions of you dying. 

“Have you heard of the tragedy of Darth Plagueis the Wise?” Chancellor Palpatine asks him slyly. “A man so powerful he could stop death itself from reaching his loved ones, just by manipulating the midichlorians. A power that he taught his apprentice before he killed him in his sleep.” 

“Such a power exists?” Anakin asks, his heart thumping loudly. He could keep you alive. He could keep you safe. You’d be able to stay alive, no matter what. 

“Yes,” Palpatine sighs, turning to look at Anakin as if to say go on, ask me more. 

“Where- where could I learn this power?” he asks, his hands clammy as he looks at his friend. 

“Not from a Jedi,” Palpatine responds. “If that’s what you were thinking of.” 

“Then I am alone, with no one to help me,” Anakin murmurs hopelessly. 

“My dear boy, alone? I’m right here,” Palpatine says with a smile. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well,” Palpatine says, smoothing a wrinkle out of his robes. “Before his passing, my master… he taught me much about the Force. Yes, even the Dark Side of it.” 

“How did I know nothing of this?” Anakin asked in his disbelief. 

“I had to hide it, you see. You were still a pawn to the Jedi Council, but now, I see that you know the truth. Those power-hoarding Jedis don’t want peace; they want total control, and they had you under their thumb,” Palpatine coaxes. Anakin’s heart drops to his stomach. Sheev Palpatine, a man who he’d looked up to for guidance, for friendship, for as long as he could remember, was a Sith Lord? He forces a nod, trying desperately to mask his discomfort. 

“Will you help me save her?” Anakin asks. The fate of the universe is far from his mind. The only thought in his head is the sight of you in the mornings, before you wake up; the thought of your hand against his, the slight brush of your hand against his, the feel of your lips when he kissed you just now. 

And then he hears your voice in his head. You’d told him that you weren’t more important than the work you do. You bring clarity to him as the Dark SIde began to sink its claws into him, and he could think rationally now. Calmly. 

“You’ll have to swear your fealty to me,” Sheev Palpatine says. 

“I do,” Anakin says, lowering his head. He hopes the Force can forgive him. He knows the midichlorians will hold him to it, to some extent; by doing this, there’s no return. He can’t go back to being a Jedi. He won’t have crossed to the Dark Side but instead will walk in the middle. He will become the balance that he swore to bring to the universe. A sick, unsettled feeling makes itself known in the pit of his stomach. Not only is he going against everything he knew, everything he had grown up believing, but he’s also losing you. Anakin wonders, for a second, what he’ll be left with at the end of it all. 

“Then henceforth, you will be known as Darth Vader, apprentice to Darth Sidious,” Palpatine says. 

Fuck.

[edenesth]

TWTHH Spinoff: Written in the Stars [2]

Pairing: military strategist!Mingi x royal physician!reader

AU: historical au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 10.3k 🤡

Summary: Mingi had spent countless years searching for the angel who saved his life when he was on the verge of death. He believed god was on his side when she finally reappeared before him, but she was now so near yet so far, so unobtainable. No longer just a young medical trainee, she had become an esteemed royal physician—a woman working within the palace walls. And what did that mean? It meant she now belonged to His Majesty.

Part 1 | Main Story | Spinoff Masterlist

"I still can't believe you actually said yes to him. What happened to love being a luxury for us, hm?" Subin teased, not letting you off the hook since she found out about the military strategist's bold invitation. That was surprising enough, but nothing shocked her more than your acceptance.

You sighed, tightening the bow of your hanbok before heading to the full-length mirror in your room to check your hair. "Oh, stop it. You know this is nothing more than a way to demonstrate our teamwork. Officer Song is a colleague, and we are simply taking the chance to network and show support for the union with Ruhon."

She rolled her eyes. "Sure, you keep telling yourself that, unnie."

You truly didn’t want to think much of it.

You were already planning to attend the banquet anyway, with or without Mingi's invitation. As one of the more senior and recognised royal physicians in the palace, your attendance at these events was mostly expected. While his attempts to spend time with you hadn't gone unnoticed, you treated them as nothing but friendly gestures.

As you finished adjusting your hanbok, you resolved to keep things strictly professional. Whatever he thought might happen, you would make it clear that you were unavailable. You would convince him to give up, knowing his efforts would only be in vain.

Right, let's get this over with.

The evening of the banquet arrived, and the palace buzzed with activity. Lanterns illuminated the courtyards, and the air was filled with music and laughter. Excitement filled you as you stepped out of the female physicians' quarters to find the tall and dashing military strategist already waiting. He wore a grand hanbok, a stark contrast to his usual training clothes. His hair was slicked back, and his hands were clasped behind his back as he paced, eyes fixed on the ground.

You took a deep breath to calm your racing heartbeat. After all, you were only human, and this was a stunning man before you. But you had to remind yourself that nothing was ever going to happen between you two and that you had only agreed to attend the event with him as a gesture of camaraderie.

Nothing more, nothing less.

After composing yourself, you cleared your throat and called out, "Officer Song, you really didn't have to come all the way here. I could have just met you at the grand hall along with everyone else."

Mingi perked up, his heart thundering at the sound of your voice. When he turned to face you, his breath momentarily caught at the sight of you so dressed up. You were always beautiful to him, but tonight, you were even more enchanting.

He bowed slightly and stepped closer. "You look… perfect, my lady."

You blinked rapidly, hoping the blush you felt wasn’t obvious on your face. He continued, "Of course, I had to come here. What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t? More importantly, you're not just anyone else to me, Royal Physician Ahn. You're my—"

Not wanting to hear the rest, you flashed a large, courteous smile. "Ah, we should probably head over if we don't want to be late. Let us go, Officer Song," you said, cutting him off. His smile faltered slightly before he nodded. "R-right, let us."

Throughout the night, the military strategist remained faithfully by your side. Unfortunately, his attentive gestures did not go unnoticed by those around you, leaving you flustered and repeatedly clarifying that you were merely colleagues.

"Really, Royal Physician Ahn? That's a shame, you two would make a beautiful couple," teased Lady Park. You sputtered, choking on your drink. She panicked and reached over to pat you on the back, glancing at a very concerned Mingi who was conversing with the general. With a reassuring smile, she mouthed, "I'll take care of her."

Officer Song resisted rolling his eyes as Seonghwa smiled dreamily at his adorable wife, not realising he was just as guilty of it—if only he knew he looked the same whenever you were around.

"I-I'm fine. Thank you, Lady Park. But I assure you, nothing can happen between us. It is forbidden; I am a woman of the palace."

The pregnant woman grinned in response. "So, are you saying that if you weren't a palace woman, you definitely would have given General Officer Song a chance?"

You sighed, offering her a half-hearted smile. "There's no use pondering that, my lady. It's impossible," you whispered the last part.

She softened, touching your shoulder gently. "Nothing is impossible if only you desire it hard enough, my dear."

Your heart warmed at her words, but you knew better than to believe them. With an appreciative nod, you gestured to her baby bump. "So, how has pregnancy been treating you, my lady?" you asked, steering the conversation away from dangerous territory. You were afraid of temptations and could not afford to give in to any of them.

The conversation with Lady Park was cut short when a certain fourth prince appeared behind her, hesitantly taking an uncertain step forward. You blinked, trying not to stare too obviously, but she noticed your eyes shifting toward something over her shoulder.

With furrowed brows, she wondered aloud, "Just what are you looking at, Royal Physician Ahn?" She turned and froze upon locking eyes with Prince Yeosang. As she moved to bow, he hurriedly reached out to stop her, gently holding her by her forearms.

"It's been a while, my lady. Would you… care to catch up?" he asked.

She bit her lip, turning to meet her husband's warm gaze. Seonghwa nodded, signalling that the decision was up to her, and she excused herself to speak with her friend. It didn't take a genius to figure out that the prince's one-sided feelings for Lady Park persisted. Everyone in Joseon had heard of His Highness' not-so-subtle advances back then. The gossip at that time was quite juicy, but it was good to see him accepting defeat gracefully. The once bratty fourth prince had disappeared; it seemed the general's wife truly had a strong hold on his heart, changing him for the better even with her firm rejection.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when your chaperone reappeared by your side. You weren't sure how to feel around the gentle giant. His presence was both comforting and unnerving.

"Everything alright?" Mingi asked softly, concern evident in his eyes.

"Yes, everything is fine," you replied, smiling up at him. "Just a bit of palace drama."

He chuckled, nodding in understanding. "Palace drama indeed. Shall we continue to mingle, or would you like to take a break?"

You appreciated his attentiveness, but the whirlwind of emotions from the evening had left you feeling somewhat drained. "A break sounds nice," you admitted.

Mingi beckoned for you to follow and you did, allowing him to lead you to a quieter corner of the grand hall. As you walked, you couldn't help but feel a mixture of gratitude and apprehension. The evening was proving to be far more eventful than you had anticipated, and you knew you had to stay vigilant against his allurements that seemed to be lurking at every turn.

As you both reached a more secluded area, he quickly said, "Wait here, I'll get you something to drink."

You sighed, reaching for his arm. "You don't have to do that, Officer Song. I don't want anyone to misunderstand. I've been meaning to tell you: there's nothing between us, and there never will be."

He paused, turning to face you properly. You looked away almost immediately, guilt gnawing at you as you caught a glimpse of the hurt reflected in his eyes. A heavy silence settled between you, each struggling to collect your thoughts.

Mingi knew winning your heart wouldn't be easy, but the early rejection still stung deeply. Finally, he spoke, his voice soft but steady. "I understand your concerns, truly. But my intentions are genuine. I'm sorry if I've caused you any discomfort or misunderstanding. I just want you to know how much I care."

You bit your lip, the sincerity in his words making it even harder. "I appreciate your honesty, but I have my duties and responsibilities. My life is here in the palace, and I can't afford distractions."

He nodded slowly, taking a step back to give you space. "I respect your dedication. I just… before I let you go, there's one thing I need to know. We've actually met each other years ago. Did you… did you remember me when you saw me again?"

Your expression remained unreadable as you mustered a response. After what felt like an eternity, with the military strategist standing with bated breath and his heart pounding in his ears, you finally met his eyes and softly said, "No, I'm afraid don't know what you're talking about. I'm sorry, Officer Song…"

His heart sank. "Oh."

The weight of his disappointment hung in the air. He took a step back, struggling to mask the hurt that flashed across his face. He had held onto the hope that perhaps, even faintly, you had remembered him. That tiny hope had been a beacon for him, a justification for his persistence. But now, it seemed all for naught.

What if His Majesty had been right?

"That's… that's okay," he finally said, forcing a weak smile. "I must have been mistaken."

You nodded, the guilt intensifying as you watched him grapple with his emotions. "I'm really sorry. Perhaps you have."

Except that was a complete lie.

You remembered. In truth, you had never forgotten. How could you? To have seen Song Mingi in person was to understand that he wasn't someone easy to forget, even when pale and sickly on his deathbed. He was undeniably gorgeous. Beyond his appearance and physique, his warm gaze, soft touch, and sweet words lingered in your memory, impossible to leave behind.

You'd recognised him since day one.

It took everything in you to maintain a composed façade and steady your racing heart as you locked eyes with the military strategist for the first time in years. Before you stood a man, well and strong, embodying everything you had ever wanted.

But you had to quell your desires, silence your dreams, and dismiss any thoughts of the impossible. Years had passed, and you had assumed he was married by now. Later, you discovered he wasn't.

Yet, it changed nothing.

You were now a palace woman, and that sealed the hopelessness of your situation. So you chose to pretend, to feign ignorance of your shared past. It was for the best—for him and for you.

Sometimes, you wondered if you were trying to convince him or yourself more. It was the very reason you dreaded seeing him; not out of dislike or annoyance, but because you were just as captivated by him as he was by you. Had you been an ordinary physician outside the palace walls, you would have accepted his love in a heartbeat.

But things were different now.

Rules were rules.

You and General Officer Song were a beautiful impossibility, and you had to do everything to keep it that way.

Yet, his constant presence was a quiet storm, eroding your resolve. Every gentle gesture, each attempt to show he could protect and cherish you, made it increasingly difficult. His persistence, so tender and genuine, weakened your defences, and you were frightened—terrified, even—of the feelings blooming within you.

Why must he be so cruel?

His kindness, his sincerity, his unwavering dedication—they all tugged at your heartstrings, weakening your defenses. Every time he appeared with that soft smile, every time he looked at you with those earnest eyes, it became increasingly difficult to remember why you had to keep him at arm's length.

And tonight, standing in the secluded corner of the grand hall, facing the man you had spent years trying to forget, you felt your carefully constructed walls begin to crumble. The reality of your situation pressed heavily on you, a constant reminder of the boundaries that could not be crossed.

Song Mingi, with his genuine concern and quiet strength, embodied everything you had ever wanted but could never have. His mere presence was a cruel reminder of what could have been in another life, another world. A world where you were free to love him without consequence.

But you weren't in that world. You were here, bound by duty and rules that were impossible to break. So you swallowed your feelings, pushed down the burgeoning hope, and forced yourself to remember the impossible nature of your situation.

Because letting yourself love him—truly, deeply love him—would only lead to heartache for you both. And you couldn't bear the thought of causing him any more pain than you already have.

You sighed, swallowing the lump forming in your throat as you gazed up at him solemnly. "I, uh… I'm feeling rather tired. I shall retire to my quarters for the night. Thank you for accompanying me tonight, Officer Song. It truly is a joy to befriend Lady Park. It's also wonderful to finally see Joseon and Ruhon getting along well. It seems like things are really looking up for us."

But they weren't.

Both of you thought it, but neither dared to say it aloud.

You smiled courteously, bowing respectfully. "Goodnight, Officer Song. I hope you enjoy the rest of the banquet with your friends."

Just as you turned to leave, he reached out an arm to stop you, though not touching you. Damn it. Damn him and his gentlemanly gestures. "Wait, my lady. Please allow me to escort you back—"

You bowed again, cutting him off, afraid to hear the rest of it. "Please enjoy the rest of the banquet."

With that, you left, leaving behind a strong man staring longingly after you like a lovesick puppy. You didn't have the courage to spare a final glance at him, knowing another look at his pleading eyes would make you give in, and you couldn't have that. Not now. Not ever. You needed to put an end to this.

As you walked away, your heart ached with every step. The distance between you and Mingi grew, but the weight of your emotions only became heavier. The grand hall's festive atmosphere faded into the background as you focused on maintaining your resolve.

Arriving back at the female physician's quarters, you couldn't summon the energy to put on yet another fake smile for Subin. Your friend waited excitedly for you by the entrance, but her beam faltered as she registered the expression on your face.

"You told him to stop, didn't you?" she asked softly, reaching over to grab your hand.

You nodded wordlessly, too weary to say anything more. Subin wrapped an arm around your shoulder, guiding you into your room, murmuring, "It'll be okay… I'm here."

You broke into a tiny smile, leaning into her hold appreciatively. Her warmth and understanding were a balm to your frayed nerves. As you settled into the familiar comfort of your quarters, the weight of the evening began to lift, if only slightly.

Subin's presence was a reminder that you weren't alone, even in your struggle to keep your feelings at bay. She helped you sit down, then knelt beside you, her eyes filled with concern and compassion.

"I know it's hard," she said gently, "but you're strong. You did what you had to do."

You sighed, closing your eyes as you leaned back against the wall. "I just... I can't believe I'm saying this, but I just wish things were different, you know?"

She nodded, squeezing your hand. "I know, unnie. But remember, you're not alone in this. We'll get through it together. Besides, you said it yourself: we have each other, and we have our duty. That's enough. It has to be."

Her words, though simple, offered a small measure of solace. You knew the path ahead would be challenging and that things with the military strategist would never be the same again, but with her by your side, you felt a glimmer of hope.

"Trust me, you'll get over it in no time."

God, I sure hope so.

Meanwhile, Mingi did his best to keep it together for the rest of the event. After all, you had told him to enjoy it with his friends, so he did—or at least he tried his hardest. Feigning a huge grin, he returned to General Park and Royal Secretary Choi's side, casually mentioning that you had retired early. He didn’t want to burden them with his love troubles; the last thing he wanted was their pity. He didn't need to feel any worse than he already did.

Despite having braced himself for the possibility of hearing those words, the pain of your rejection cut deep. "There's nothing between us, and there never will be." Those words echoed in his mind like a broken record as he lay in bed that night, unable to find solace in sleep. He was caught between the urge to fight harder for you and the need to honour your wishes.

Yet, he couldn't shake the image of your face when he asked if you remembered him. The fleeting look of conflict troubled him deeply. Why did you seem so torn? Why did you hesitate? Could you have been lying? If so, why hide the truth? He needed answers. Whether or not you would ever be his, he needed to know them.

Mingi resolved to seek those answers, slowly and carefully. In the process, he hoped to soften your seemingly hardened heart, guarded by steel walls that showed cracks despite your efforts to conceal them. He might have been a fool most of the time, but his attentiveness had never been keener than now. All for you. Because he believed fate must have brought you back into his life for a reason.

"You good, hyung?" Junghoon asked, feeling his mentor shift on the bed for what seemed like the thousandth time that night.

The older man nodded despite the internal turmoil within him. "Yeah, I'm fine. Go to sleep already, young man."

"I'm trying... if only you'd stop moving."

Heaving a sigh, Mingi turned to face his apprentice. "Hey, what do you think it means when a woman tells you to stop pursuing her but looks really sad while saying it?"

The younger man rolled his eyes. There goes my sleep, he thought as he pushed himself up into a seated position, legs folded and hands intertwined. "Alright, sit your dumbass up. Time for Love Lessons for Dummies 101."

"Are you sure this is going to work? She's not—" Mingi's words were cut off by his apprentice, who mocked him with air quotes. "'Not like other girls.' Yeah, yeah, I know. That's what every man says about his crush. Trust me, women are all the same. Nothing melts their hearts more than an attentive and caring man. Now go before she's already out for her lunch break."

Junghoon had finally convinced his mentor to see his dream girl after avoiding the royal medical hall for nearly a week, giving you the space you needed. But Mingi knew that to win your heart, he couldn’t stay away. He'd have to approach gently and slowly.

With a handmade lunchbox in hand, the military strategist's first mission was to show you he wasn’t bound by gender norms, relegating kitchen tasks only to women. He wanted to demonstrate what having a husband like him would be like. If you wished, he could drop by each day with lunch prepared just for you.

His heart pounded with anticipation when he arrived at the medical hall for the first time in what felt like forever. He had missed you like crazy, each day without seeing you dragging on like a year. As he stepped inside and approached the counter, confusion set in when you were nowhere in sight. Could you have gone out with the first batch of royal physicians for your lunch break? That was odd; you always preferred the second batch.

"Good day, Officer Song. Are you injured or feeling unwell?" one of your colleagues asked, snapping him out of his thoughts. Mingi blinked and cleared his throat. "N-no, I'm here for Royal Physician Ahn. Is she already out for lunch?"

Your colleague suppressed a knowing grin, pursing her lips before answering, "She's not. She hasn't been in for a few days now. She's been down with food poisoning ever since attending the royal banquet with you."

Mingi felt his heart sink.

He muttered a quick thanks and dashed out, his feet moving automatically towards the female physicians' quarters. Nothing else mattered; he needed to see you, to know you were okay, to apologise for not taking better care of you that night.

Meanwhile, you pressed your face into your pillow, curling into a ball and clutching the comforter around you as another stab of pain hit your stomach. The discomfort was unbearable, making it impossible to go to work today. Seeing your agony, the head of the royal physicians had allowed you a day or two to feel better before returning to the royal medical hall.

As the pain subsided and you slowly felt a wave of drowsiness enveloping you, an unusual rustle from outside alerted you. Someone was there. But who? Everyone else should be at work. Was it Subin coming to check on you? Your thoughts were interrupted when your breath hitched, realising a man's silhouette was standing by your room entrance through the paper walls.

What fool would dare come here, a place meant only for women? Not even eunuchs were allowed in, let alone a well-built man of his stature. Was it a prison escapee? Lord knows what he'd do if he found you alone. Before you could attempt to get up and go someplace safe, another sharp pain hit, and the wince you let out was inevitable. Unfortunately, the man heard you and immediately reached to pull the doors open.

As the door slid open, your heart raced, fear gripping you as you braced for the worst. But instead of a stranger, you saw Mingi's concerned face. His eyes widened in alarm as he rushed to your side.

"Physician Ahn, are you alright?" he asked, his voice filled with worry.

"O-Officer Song? What in the world are you doing here?" you managed to say between breaths, the pain still lingering.

"I heard you were sick. I had to make sure you were okay," he replied, his voice softening as he knelt beside your bed.

The concern in his eyes was genuine, and despite the awkwardness of the situation, a small part of you felt relieved. "You're not supposed to... you shouldn't be here," you whispered, the rules and propriety still at the forefront of your mind.

"I know, but I couldn't stay away," he said, gently placing a hand on your arm. "I'm here to make up for my mistake. I should have been more attentive. This is all my fault."

You frowned, pushing yourself up to a sitting position as the pain subsided again. "What do you mean by that? How is any of this your fault? This has nothing to do with you."

He sighed. "Nonsense. If only I’d been more attentive to what they served you at the banquet, you wouldn’t have been suffering from food poisoning this badly."

"F-food poisoning...? Who told you that?" you asked, already having a clue. He twiddled his fingers nervously. "One of your colleagues. I was at the medical hall earlier and you weren’t there. She told me you were sick, and I came here as fast as I could..."

Squeezing your eyes shut, you were exasperated at your friends’ mischievousness. They hadn’t let you live it down since learning you had gone to the royal banquet with the military strategist, though they didn’t know what had transpired between you two or how the night had ended. The teasing was one thing, but you didn’t think they’d actually go this far. But of course, they probably didn’t think this fool would actually come here himself instead of sending a court lady to check on you.

You sighed. "I don't have food poisoning… it's just that time of the month. You know, the women thing…" His eyes widened in horror, and his cheeks turned red with embarrassment. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, muttering, "Gosh, why'd she lie about this?"

You pulled your comforter close as another cramp hit. "Listen, I'm not in the mood to talk right now. Besides, you really shouldn't be here. I appreciate you checking on me, but you should leave. We'd both be in huge trouble if someone saw you here."

He nodded quickly, gesturing to the bag he had brought with him. "Right, I-I'll leave immediately. These are for you, by the way. I made them myself. Please enjoy them when you're feeling hungry."

Usually, you would have melted at that, but you really needed him gone. "Yes, thank you."

As if the world had something against you, just as the military strategist neared the door, another familiar silhouette appeared at the entrance. "Are you feeling any better, my dear? I've come with some heat packs to soothe the cramps," the head of the royal physicians called out, her hands reaching for the door handle.

Mingi froze, and you panicked, all menstrual pain forgotten as you jumped out of bed and rushed towards him, exclaiming loudly, "I'm feeling much better, Head Physician Seo! Thank you for your concern. Would you give me a minute? I'm not properly dressed."

You sighed in relief when that worked like a charm as she removed her hand from the door handle and took a step back. "Oh, my apologies. Of course, let me know when you're ready."

Scanning the room in alarm, you hurried to the cabinet that usually held your mattress, pillows, and comforters when you weren't sleeping, now empty. "Get in here, quick!" you whispered urgently. He obeyed, moving as stealthily as he could to avoid making a sound and raising suspicion.

Oh god, can things get any worse today?

After shooting him a stern look and pressing your pointer finger against your lips to signal a firm 'be quiet,' you shut the cabinet doors and took a deep breath. Plastering on a huge smile, you opened the door for your superior, letting her in. She smiled warmly, handing you the heat packs she'd brought. "Is everything okay? I thought I heard someone in here earlier."

Your breath caught as you noticed Mingi's bag still by your bed. Quickly moving to conceal it with your hanbok, you feigned innocence. "Huh, really? That's weird. It's only me. I'm sure it's nothing."

She shrugged and nodded. "You're probably right. I guess all the lack of sleep must be getting to me. Well then, it’s good to see you doing better. I shall get back to work then."

You mustered a fake laugh. "That must be it, ma'am. Thank you so much for the heat packs. I really appreciate it."

She patted your cheeks softly. "Anything for my best physician. Hope to see you back at work tomorrow."

You nodded, waving goodbye as she left. As you shut the door, exhaustion overwhelmed you, and you sank to your knees. The cabinet doors creaked open as the tall man emerged, muttering, "Phew, that was close—"

As if jinxing it, your superior returned. "Oh yes, my dear!" she called through the door.

Rushing up to Mingi, you smacked a palm over his mouth to shut him up as you answered her, "Yes, ma'am?"

She chuckled. "I heard that General Officer Song of yours dropped by the medical hall earlier, seemingly with lunch prepared for you. Don't be so hard on him, hm? I know we’re not allowed to love, but he's a sweet guy. At least be a friend to him. We’re still allowed to have friends, you know? Please don’t deprive yourself of that right too."

You swallowed, meeting Mingi’s eyes as they softened at your pained expression. "I understand. Thank you, ma'am."

Finally, she left for good this time. Eyes locked with his, you pondered her words. Could you really be friends with this man? Just... friends? Perhaps that was all you could ever be.

In that moment of closeness, you became acutely aware of your position, your hand still covering his mouth, his hands gently supporting you on your back. The atmosphere crackled with tension until it was broken by the rumble of his stomach. Flustered, you withdrew, your heart racing.

What in the world just happened...?

With a nervous bite of your lip, you dared to break the silence. "You uhh... haven't eaten either, have you?"

He shook his head bashfully, his eyes reflecting a mix of embarrassment and longing. "No, I haven't."

Oh, to hell with it.

You gestured towards the lunch he had brought. "Join me then."

Things had obviously shifted between you since then, and it did not go unnoticed by those around you. General Officer Song started coming by the medical hall at least once a week, no longer pretending to have an injury but simply to share lunch with you.

As friends.

That was what you told your friends, colleagues and every other palace staff whenever they tried to tease you. Yes, friends. That was all there was to it. All you both were ever going to be. Nothing more, nothing less. Just friends. Good friends. That was all you would allow… all you were allowed, really.

But you were happy with it. You had to be. It wasn't something you had a say in.

This was your life.

Mingi's visits became an oddly comforting routine. Every week, he would show up with a handmade lunch, and you would sit together, talking and laughing. The bond between you grew stronger, and although you constantly reminded yourself that you were just friends, there was an undeniable warmth in your interactions.

One afternoon, after the military strategist had patiently waited for you to finish caring for a patient, the two of you shared lunch in a quiet corner of the medical hall. He looked at you with a soft, contemplative expression. "You know," he began, "the first time I saw you, I thought you were the most admirable woman to exist. I'm glad I wasn't wrong. You really are an angel sent by the heavens."

You felt a flutter in your chest but quickly suppressed it, grinning softly. "Am I really? You know I'm not the only female physician around. The others are just as admirable."

Yes, but they're not you.

He nodded, though his eyes held a depth of emotion you couldn't quite decipher. "I suppose you're right," he said gently.

Not wanting to dwell on the serious atmosphere, you playfully nudged him on the shoulder. "Of course I am. I'm always right. And I bet you were a complete crybaby the day we first met, wailing like a child as you received treatment."

He scoffed, pressing a hand to his chest dramatically and feigning offence. "I was not. I'll have you know I was the most courageous soldier on site that day."

Brave enough to ask you out.

"Sure you were," you mocked sarcastically, sticking your tongue out at him. Your heart warmed internally because he was right. You remembered how calm he was despite the pain he endured. But he could never know you remembered. Never. That would complicate things too much, and you didn't need that. Not now, not ever.

Things were perfect as they were.

Or were they?

Irked by your teasing, he swiftly reached out to snatch a piece of dumpling—your favourite—from your lunchbox and stuffed it into his mouth as revenge. You let out a surprised yelp, smacking him on the arm. "Wha—hey! That was my last piece! Give it back, Song Mingi!" Your laughter filled the space as you wrestled with him, his eyes disappearing into adorable slits as he hurriedly chewed on the dumpling, annoying you with it. He chortled, speaking through his mouth full, "Ha! That's what you get!"

The fun was abruptly cut short when the head of the royal physicians appeared at the doorway. "Am I interrupting something?" she asked, her tone light but curious.

You sputtered and shook your head, immediately pushing yourself off the tall man. "Absolutely not, ma'am. He was just about to leave. We're done eating," you said, glaring playfully at Mingi as he swallowed the last of your dumpling.

The military strategist bowed respectfully to the elderly woman, seizing the opportunity to escape your wrath. "I apologise for taking up so much of Royal Physician Ahn's time. I'll leave at once," he said.

She shook her head, smiling warmly. "Don't apologise. I'm not sure I've seen Physician Ahn this happy in a good while. Please stay for a bit more if you wish, Officer Song."

Both your cheeks grew warm at her words as Mingi scrambled to pack up his belongings and leave, clearly shy. "Thank you, ma'am, but I really shouldn't. Besides, I have training to attend as well."

With a final bow to you both, he was gone, leaving you standing there, your heart still racing from the sudden interruption and the unexpected compliment from your superior.

Head Physician Seo approached you, a knowing smile on her face. "You and General Officer Song seem really close. Are you sure there's nothing more going on?"

You laughed lightly, shaking your head. "We're good friends. That's all."

She raised an eyebrow but didn't press further. "Well, as long as you're happy. I'm glad you took my advice and allowed him in."

You nodded, reaffirming your own belief. "You were right, it's nice to have someone who genuinely understands and cares."

In the back of your mind, you couldn't ignore the ache of wanting something more, but you reminded yourself that this was your reality. And so, you continued to cherish the time spent with him, finding solace in the friendship that had blossomed between you.

As the weeks turned into months, the boundaries of your friendship were constantly tested. Every shared smile, every lingering glance, and every comforting touch made it harder to maintain the illusion. Deep down, you both knew what you had was special, even if you could never openly acknowledge it.

Despite the constraints, you found happiness in the moments you shared. Each lunch, each conversation, and each quiet moment of understanding reinforced the bond between you. The stolen glances when no one was looking, the way he would subtly take care of you, and the warmth that filled your heart when he was near—it all painted a picture of a love that couldn't be spoken.

In the silence of the night, when you lay awake thinking about him, you allowed yourself to dream of a different life. A life where societal expectations didn't dictate your choices, and you could be free to express your true feelings. But for now, those dreams remained just that—dreams.

You took comfort in the friendship that had become an integral part of your life. It was a bittersweet reality, but one you had come to accept. And in those precious moments you shared, you found a contentment that made the impossible feel almost within reach.

Meanwhile, Mingi found himself growing more hopeful with every step closer to you. Though it hurt to hear you remind everyone that what you shared was merely friendship, he was almost certain you returned his feelings. Yet, he didn’t want to make assumptions; he needed to hear it from you. He was prepared to wait a long time, even forever, as long as you continued to allow him to be near you. This closeness was already more than he had ever hoped for, and a part of him had accepted that this might be the way things were meant to be.

Being friends was better than nothing.

"Yeah, you keep telling yourself that," Junghoon smirked before letting out a whine as his mentor hit him on the back.

"Shut up, kid. What do you know about love anyway? Taking advice from you nearly got me and her in trouble," Mingi grumbled.

The apprentice rolled his eyes, rubbing his back. "Oh, please, don't act like it didn't help you get close to her. I dare you to say you didn’t enjoy having her pressed up against you that day, keeping your mouth shut with her hand, all alone in her room—"

Mingi slapped a hand over the younger man’s mouth, eyes wide and face burning with embarrassment. "If you don't shut your trap right now, I'll tell His Majesty you’d like to quit and join the eunuchs."

That was all it took to silence Junghoon.

Truthfully, the apprentice was right, being close to you had made Mingi greedy for your affections. He often wondered what it would be like to have you willingly run into his arms. But the military strategist knew that was probably as far as he would ever get. Friends were not meant to be any closer than that, and he had come to accept it. If only you would stop making things more difficult.

One day, a soldier was seriously injured during training due to faulty weapons, and the royal medical hall was notified. You appeared at the training grounds with Subin beside you not long after, slightly out of breath as your eyes searched hastily for something or… someone. When you didn’t find who you were looking for, you blurted out, "Where's Officer Song? Is he okay?"

The soldiers greeting you furrowed their brows in confusion. "Officer Song…? Yes, he's fine. It's not him who got injured. Did someone tell you that by mistake?"

You sputtered messily, flustered for giving yourself away, while your childhood friend suppressed her giggle beside you. "O-oh, no... I just... I assumed it was him since he gets injured nearly every week. Never mind that, please take us to the injured soldier."

"Yes, my lady. Come with me."

Quickly, you followed the man, eyes glued to his back, not wanting to catch any knowing glances thrown your way. Unbeknownst to you, Song Mingi was hidden by a stand and had heard everything, struggling to keep the smile off his face at your concern. Were you thinking about him just as much as he thought about you? Were you worried about him? Did you... feel the same?

He desperately wanted to hear it from you but dared not ask the questions, fearing the answers you'd give him—answers that he knew would never reflect your true feelings. He watched you tend to the injured soldier from a distance, the smile lingering on his face, feeling a warmth that hadn’t been there before. Though it stung to always be reminded that what you shared was nothing more than friendship, he clung to the moments when your actions betrayed your words, showing a deeper, unspoken bond.

For now, he would be content with this.

Until he couldn't.

He arrived at the medical hall the next day with lunchboxes in hand, ready to spend time with you as usual. Instead, he was met with the devastating news that you had been dispatched to a plague-ridden village to provide assistance. His heart fell, and his world crumbled.

"I don't understand. What do you mean she's gone, my King? She was just here yesterday."

"Forget her, Officer Song. I told you it's impossible to be with her," said the ruler, rubbing a hand on his temple. "She volunteered to go without hesitation. I think you have your answer loud and clear. And as much I hate to say this, we're not sure she will return from this trip. Most physicians going on such missions are like soldiers going to war; they risk their lives and could be gone for months or even years. You deserve someone who can stay by your side."

The King's words cut deep, but Mingi's mind was a whirlwind of worry and despair. The thought of you in danger, far away, made it hard for him to breathe. The idea of losing you, of not knowing if you were safe or if you would ever come back, was unbearable.

"Where is this village, Your Majesty?"

The elderly man sighed deeply, shaking his head. "What will it take for you to give up? You'll only end up in pain, as if you haven't already been in enough pain. She has denied all your attempts from the start. Why do you do this to yourself, hm?"

Officer Song clenched his fists, his voice trembling with emotion. "Because love isn't about possession. Love is unconditional. I don't care if she will never accept my love in this life; I will continue to be there for her, to protect and care for her as long as I am alive. I'll be damned if I let her face all that danger on her own. So, I'm asking again, Your Majesty, where exactly is this village?"

The desperation in his voice was palpable, the rawness of his love laid bare. He would do anything, go anywhere, to ensure your safety. For the military strategist, there was no greater purpose than being there for you, no matter the cost.

Meanwhile, you struggled to keep yourself together as you arrived at the terror-stricken village. The place had been overtaken by a sudden, rapidly spreading disease, claiming lives at a frightening pace. Violently woken in the middle of the night by Head Physician Seo, you joined the royal physicians gathered in the main hall to hear the grim news. Guri, the very village where you and Subin had lost everything, was now cursed with another wave of illness, intent on wiping out the population and destroying families again.

But you were stronger now.

You would rather die trying than let more innocent villagers endure what you did all those years ago. This time, you were capable of saving lives. Without a second thought, you and your friend volunteered to go. It wasn't until you were in the carriage that you remembered a certain Officer Song. Crestfallen, you realised that perhaps this was all for the best. Maybe, with your absence, he could finally move on and find someone with whom he could have a future, instead of being held back by you.

And you... you would be doing the very thing you had trained for all your life. There was no time to dwell on matters of the heart.

Forget him, lives are at stake.

As you arrived in Guri, the sight was both familiar and heartbreaking. The streets were eerily quiet, with only the occasional sound of distant weeping or the hollow coughs of the afflicted. You, Subin, and the rest of the royal physicians immediately set to work; assessing the situation and organising the sick villagers for treatment.

"Help my mother, please!"

"It hurts, make it stop!"

"I don't want to die yet... I'm scared."

Doing your best to calm the terrified villagers, your mind was a whirlwind of medical procedures and strategies to contain the spread. Every moment was a battle against time, a race to save as many lives as possible. But amidst the chaos, thoughts of Mingi lingered at the edge of your mind. His gummy smile, his stupidly cute laughter, the way his eyes lit up when he saw you—they all haunted you, a bittersweet reminder of what you had left behind.

Sometimes, it felt like those thoughts of him were the only thing keeping you going. Nearly a week had passed, and the situation had only slightly improved. With minimal sleep and just enough food to keep you alive, you worked tirelessly to tend to the sick. All the while, you wished you had a certain tall, handsome, and silly strategist to help lighten the constantly heavy atmosphere. At this point, you had lost count of the times you had imagined him by your side. The imagination could be so vivid, you were convinced you were hallucinating from the immense lack of rest.

"Need a hand, my lady?"

You froze, your actions of reaching for the top shelf of the makeshift clinic for some medicine halted at the familiar voice that had been haunting your well-being for the past week. Shit, were you hearing things now? Surely, it was the sleep deprivation acting up.

It can't be.

But then, you turned around, and there he was. General Officer Song, standing in the doorway, looking just as real and solid as ever. His eyes held a mix of concern and determination, and he was carrying a medical kit of his own.

"Mingi?" you whispered, almost afraid that speaking his name would shatter the illusion.

He stepped closer, a gentle smile on his face. "Yes, it's me. I'm here."

To his surprise, you were angry when you realised it was really him and not just a hallucination. "What… in the world are you doing here?" you questioned, your voice filled with frustration and disbelief.

His smile fell. "I came to help—"

You cut him off. "This isn't a joke, Song Mingi! This is serious. People are dying! You shouldn't be here just because you wish to keep pursuing me or anything stupid!"

His expression hardened with determination. "That's exactly why I'm here—because I can't lose you!"

You were left speechless, grappling with the rush of emotions at his sudden presence as well as his words. You felt conflicted, overwhelmed by the happiness that he was really here in the flesh, anger at his recklessness, fear for his survival, and frustration because you wanted so badly to run to him but knew you could not.

After what felt like an eternity, you sighed and tossed him a handkerchief. "Cover your nose and mouth with this at all times. Since you're here, make yourself useful. Get that bag of herbs and come with me. We have no time to waste."

As he opened his mouth to speak, you shot him a warning glare. "Save your breath. If you do not intend to work, please leave."

With a firm nod, he complied, grabbing the bag of herbs and following you into the chaos. Despite the tension, having him there added a strange sense of comfort and determination, and together, you continued to fight the disease that had plagued Guri.

The entire day passed by in a blur, just like the previous ones. There was not a moment of respite as you rushed around, with Mingi following you obediently, doing as he was told without question. Subin and your other colleagues raised surprised brows at his presence, but the situation left no room for teasing or questions.

At the end of the day, even when things had calmed down a little and most villagers were asleep, your work was far from done. You sat by the bed of a small child who was badly affected by the disease, your tired hands rinsing and wringing a towel repeatedly, wiping the sweat from his tiny head over and over to ensure his fever didn’t worsen. Mingi remained by your side, watching you care for the child.

Sensing your lethargic movements, he gently offered, "Here, let me do it." He reached out for the cloth, and you gave in, handing it to him. He took your spot, and you moved aside to make space for him on the bed, finally having the opportunity to take a good look at him since his arrival.

His face was etched with concern and determination, his usual playful demeanour replaced by a steadfast resolve. He worked with a quiet intensity, carefully tending to the child as if his life depended on it. The sight filled you with a mixture of emotions—gratitude, admiration, and a touch of sorrow.

"You shouldn't have come," you whispered, the weight of the day's events pressing down on you. "But... thank you."

He glanced at you, his eyes softening. "I had to. I couldn’t just stay behind knowing you were here, facing this alone."

You sighed, feeling a lump form in your throat. "I'm sorry for the harsh words I said. I was just... worried about you. I still am."

"And I was worried about you," he replied, his voice firm yet gentle. "We’re in this together now. We'll get through it."

Shaking your head, you squeezed your eyes shut. "It's not going to be easy. You don't understand… this, Mingi. This village was once my home. I was born here, and for the first few years of my life, I had a family. Until a plague, one similar to this one, broke out, taking my parents and siblings, leaving me with nothing," you explained, your voice breaking as you finally revealed your past.

He sat, shell-shocked, learning about your tragic history for the first time. He hadn’t known you had endured such a tough life, and it only strengthened his affection and admiration for you. You were even stronger than he had perceived.

"And that's why I was so afraid of seeing you here," you continued, your voice trembling. "Because I… I can't lose you too."

His breath hitched at your words, a moment of silence enveloping the room before he dared to cover your hand gently with his bigger one, whispering a soft, "Really?"

Embarrassed, you cleared your throat and nodded, avoiding his eyes. "Yes, because you're a good friend to me."

He chuckled, nodding in defeat. "Right, of course." He knew better than to expect anything more by now. He was just glad you no longer pushed him away.

That was all that mattered.

The following days settled into the same gruelling routine, but your shoulders undeniably felt lighter with Mingi's presence. His unwavering support and the arrival of the physicians who had raised you and Subin provided much-needed relief. Their presence brought a sense of comfort and familiarity.

On a slower day, the military strategist sat with one of the senior physicians, assisting with brewing medicine. Catching the tall man's eyes glued to your busy figure in the next room, Kyungsoo, who had been like an older brother to you, smiled and remarked, "Quite the workaholic, isn't she? Nothing can stop her from working. She's been that way for as long as we can all remember."

"She really is," Officer Song replied.

Through your mentors, he learned more about your childhood years. Kyungsoo shared stories of how hard you had worked and studied to get where you were, all to repay them for taking you in. Mingi now saw the depth of your dedication and the sacrifices you had made to become the renowned royal physician you are today.

As he watched you tirelessly care for the villagers, a realisation struck him. It might be selfish to want to tie you down in marriage just because he thought he loved you. If he truly loved you, he should let you do what you loved. You had fought so hard to achieve your dreams; how could he possibly take that away from you?

His heart ached as he finally understood the wisdom in His Majesty's words. Maybe you really were not meant to be, not in this life. Perhaps in the next, he thought to himself, his eyes lingering on you with a mixture of admiration and sorrow.

For now, he would support you in the best way he could—by standing by your side, helping you save lives, and cherishing the moments you shared. Because that, he realised, was also a form of love.

You've won, my King. I yield.

You had somehow felt the distance Mingi seemed to be putting between you, no matter how minuscule. You were hyper-aware of him, always had been, so this change, despite how small and unnoticed by the rest, bothered you more than you cared to admit. Was he growing tired of this? Of you? Perhaps he was realising how impossible it was to reach you and was giving up.

And who could blame him, really?

He deserved to be free; free to love another, to love someone who could give him so much more, all the things you never could.

"Hey, everything okay?" Subin asked, noting how you had nearly disposed of a new bandage instead of a used one.

You snapped out of your thoughts, apologising for the mistake as you rubbed your eyes. "Oh, I'm fine. Just tired, that's all."

She sighed, squeezing your shoulder. "It's Officer Song, isn't it?"

You stilled. "Huh? I-I don't know what you're talking about—"

She rolled her eyes, cutting you off. "Save it, unnie. I'm tired of hiding it from you. He's already received permission from His Majesty to pursue you. That's why he's been so bold in his attempts. If you feel the same way about him, then please, for the love of god, stop putting yourself and him through this nonsense any longer."

Your heart pounded as her words sank in. "Permission from His Majesty?" you echoed, disbelief and confusion in your voice.

She nodded firmly. "Yes, my dear friend. He's been allowed to court you on one condition—only if you willingly agree to it. That’s why he’s here, risking his life. He’s doing it all for you. If you care about him even a fraction of how much he cares about you, you need to let him know. This back-and-forth is tearing both of you apart."

You swallowed hard, grappling with the revelation. It felt as if a door had opened, one you had convinced yourself was forever locked.

"But Subin-ah... what if he realises I'm not worth the effort?" you whispered, voicing your deepest fear.

Her eyes softened. "That's not for you to decide. Let him make his own choices. If he’s here, fighting for you, it means you are worth everything to him. Don’t push him away because of your own insecurities. Give him—give yourself—a chance."

Before you could process her words, chaos erupted as sudden screams filled the air, panicked villagers running in all directions. You rushed outside to see what was happening, your heart pounding in your chest. Amid the commotion, you finally caught on to someone yelling, "Fire! Fire! There's a fire in the kitchen!"

Gasping, you spotted billowing black smoke rising from a hut at the back, where the kitchen was situated. Turning to Subin with wide eyes, you began, "I-isn't that where—"

She nodded before you could finish, confirming your fears. "Officer Song and Kyungsoo oppa were brewing medicine!"

Without a second thought, you sprinted towards the kitchen, your mind racing. The heat and smoke intensified with each step closer. Villagers and fellow physicians frantically attempted to extinguish the flames with buckets of water, but the fire raged on.

"Kyungsoo oppa! Mingi-yah!" you shouted, your voice trembling with fear and urgency.

Amid the thick smoke, Kyungsoo stumbled out alone, coughing violently. You rushed to him, desperation gripping your heart. "O-oppa, where is he? Where's Song Mingi?!"

Pointing towards the kitchen, nearly engulfed in flames, the senior physician gasped, "That fool's still in there. He insists on saving the medicine. We need to get him out, now!"

Your heart pounded with dread. "I'll go!" But Kyungsoo grabbed your arm, panic in his eyes. "No, it's too dangerous—"

Ignoring his warning, you darted inside.

Your heart plummeted when you spotted Mingi foolishly attempting to salvage the pot of medicine. "Stop, you idiot! Leave it!" He froze at the sound of your voice, turning to see you. "What are you doing here? Get out, the place is falling apart!"

Rushing up to him, you desperately tugged on his arm. "Not without you!" Yielding to your urgency, he abandoned the medicine and turned to leave with you. But dread washed over him as he noticed the fragile beam above you, threatening to collapse at any moment. Time seemed to slow as he pushed you towards the exit just in time for the debris to crash down in front of him, trapping him inside.

Your cries echoed as you saw him trapped. "No!" He managed a weak smile, feeling the smoke filling his lungs. "I'm sorry, my lady." Tears streamed down your face as you screamed for help, men rushing to save him. Kyungsoo and Subin restrained you, their grip firm as you thrashed against their hold.

"It's okay, he'll be okay," they repeated, their assurances failing to ease the turmoil in your heart. When they finally emerged, carrying his unconscious body, relief washed over you, but it was quickly replaced by a profound sense of guilt and regret.

God, you were such a fool. How could you have been so blind to his importance in your life? Why did you take him for granted, making him wait for so long?

"Wake up, Song Mingi! Please, listen to me," you pleaded, your voice trembling with emotion. "I remembered everything, okay? I never forgot about you, not for a single moment. I'm sorry for lying, for pushing you away. But I accept it now—I want to be with you. Please... don't leave me."

Amidst your sobs against his chest, you halted as you felt his hand tenderly stroking your head. Lifting your gaze to meet his, you found him smiling weakly down at you.

"Wow, I never thought I'd hear those words," he murmured softly.

"So, that's your secret, huh? Faking your own death to get the girl?" Junghoon quipped, wearing a mischievous grin. Mingi let out an exasperated sigh and playfully smacked the younger man on the back of the head. "Faked my death? I nearly died," he retorted.

Junghoon raised a sceptical brow. "Yes, but did you die though?"

"I swear to god, you rascal—" Mingi's fist hovered in the air threateningly until you appeared, hands on your hips.

"Excuse me, no violence is permitted in the medical hall. If you two want to settle this, take it to the training grounds," you scolded.

The military strategist turned to you with a pout, attempting to play innocent. "But, my angel, I brought you lunch."

You rolled your eyes. "Alright. What's Junghoonie doing here then?"

The apprentice eagerly showed you his sprained ankle. "I actually got hurt, noona. Unlike someone, I don't fake my injuries."

Before Mingi could retaliate, you quickly summoned a colleague to tend to Junghoon, then dragged your idiot away, much to his chagrin. "That's enough, you baby."

"Yes, I'm your baby."

A month had passed since the plague in the village was eradicated. It was after the fire, that you managed to find a quiet moment with Mingi and poured out your heart to him. To your surprise, he didn't immediately respond with joy.

"Are you sure this is what you truly want?" he had asked, his expression serious. "Because I could never ask you to choose me over your career if it's more important to you."

His words struck a chord deep within you, revealing the depth of his love and understanding. He wasn't seeking to possess you but to ensure your happiness, even if it meant letting you go.

In that moment, you realised that this man was worth loving, worth everything. He had waited patiently for years, only to ask you that question when he finally had you.

In response, you didn't need to speak. Your answer was a simple and direct kiss to his lips, conveying all your love, gratitude, and certainty in that one tender moment.

Upon your return from Guri, you promptly sought an audience with His Majesty. There, you expressed your desire to be with Mingi. Needless to say, the soft-hearted King who had been secretly rooting for you both did not take too long to agree.

Granting you the freedom to be courted by the military strategist, the King also bestowed his blessing for marriage, should you both deem it the right path. With a sense of relief, you exchanged grateful glances with your lover. It marked the beginning of a new chapter, brimming with hope and love, as you eagerly anticipated embarking on this journey together.

"I still can't believe you're meant to be the coolest and most renowned military strategist in all of Joseon. If only the people knew what an adorable little princess you could be," you chuckled, playfully feeding Mingi a spoonful of rice as he attempted to fashion you a new handkerchief, boasting about his newfound skills learned from his dressmaker friend.

"Oh wow, is that really how you thank your devoted future husband, who's putting all this effort into making something special for you?" he teased, his eyes sparkling with affection as he reached for another piece of cloth, determined to create something perfect for you.

You snickered mischievously. "Alright, princess, how about this? You handle the cooking and cleaning, and I'll be the queen of the castle, bringing home the gold. Deal?"

He stared at you, unamused. Leaning in, you stole a kiss from his lips, and in that moment, his resistance melted away. "Ugh fine, I suppose that doesn't sound too bad," he admitted with a playful sigh.

Anything for you, my angel.

You couldn't contain your laughter at his surrender, eagerly returning his affection as he leaned in for another kiss.

Sometimes, it's astonishing how, despite years of separation, no matter how distant you've become or how impossible it seemed to reunite, you always find each other again. It's as if your paths were meant to intersect once more, as though guided by the stars.

You were destined to find each other.

Lord, I did not plan for this to be so long. I'm so sorry this part took like a thousand years and I sincerely hope it was decent! I've managed to include all the details I came up with but am somehow not too happy with the delivery (then again, when am I not unsatisfied with my own work lmfao).

More importantly, I cannot believe I now have 2k followers😭 thank you all so much! I cannot wait to finish Jongho and Yeosang's spinoffs and then work on more new stuff!

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

Tag list (1/10):

@itstheghostofmypast @huachengsbestie01 @minghaoslatina @weedforthoughtz @minkiflwr |

@cheolliehugs @the-kpop-simp @writingwieny @stayatinykatsy @skzline |

@green-agent @stayinhellevator @vampzity @tinyteezer @evidive |

@vantediary @superbbananananana @kimyeolchan @chocolate-scoups @decadentstrangernacho |

@vic0921 @marievllr-abg @sunnyhokyu @seungmin-in-thebuilding @heyitsmetonid |

@sansaurora9904 @darkestacademiamindsx12-blog @myblovedjyh @professormingisglasses @newworldwritings |

@chicken-fifi @thunderous-wolf @shythinggiver @madnpan @yandere-stories |

@anxiousskylar @frobin4ever @starssongs98 @dollce-exe @jan-l |

@lovelyred2 @haven-cove @watermelon2319 @dreamingofyeo @akimkim |

@scuzmunkie @satsuri3su @mismatchfluffysocks @borntoshineateez @st4rhwa |

@ddaeing @tropicalsstuff @bts-army380 @skteezcursed @beauty143 |

@naps-over-degree @brown88 @sis-101 @lemon-sage17 @jcalicocatj

All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[petalsthefish]

All The Kings Men

After Prince James is cursed by the evil Lord Voldemort, Lily searches for ways to save him. A Sleeping Beauty Jily Role Reversal Re-telling. Day #20 of the jilytober song shuffle prompts with: "All The Kings Men" by The Rigs READ ON A03

In a kingdom veiled in sunlight, there was a girl as wild as the fire she carried within—Lily Evans. The daughter of the Captain of the Guard, she was as untamed as the horses she often stole from the royal stables and as free as the wind that swept across the cliffs beyond the castle. Wherever she went, Prince James Potter followed, his laughter always trailing just behind hers. A prince, but more than that, a boy whose heart had long belonged to the reckless girl who ruled his world with chaos and fire.

Lily was trouble—not the gentle, mischievous kind, but a force of nature that left disorder in her wake. She and James didn’t just defy the palace’s rules; they shattered them. From midnight raids on the kitchens to scaling the highest towers and hanging banners adorned with crude stick-figure drawings, they were rebels in a court that demanded less. Together, they created more, a secret kingdom of love and laughter, far from the watchful eyes of courtiers and kings.

But on this autumn afternoon, as the world turned gold beneath the kiss of the dying sun, something was different. The crispness in the air whispered of change, of a future neither of them wanted to face. They sat perched in the royal orchards, high among the branches—James lounging on a thick limb, an apple forgotten in his hand, while Lily hung from the branch above him, her fiery hair brushing his cheeks. Her laughter, sharp and free, echoed through the trees, a song even the birds stopped to listen too.

"I can't imagine calling you 'King' James," she hummed, "can you imagine me saying it?"

"I don’t want it," James muttered, his voice low, the apple slipping from his grasp. His hazel eyes, so often full of mischief, were distant, tracing the jagged line of mountains far beyond the castle walls. "I don’t want to be king, Lily. Not if it means losing this—losing us. I’d rather ride into the wilds with you, sleep beneath the stars, where no one expects anything from me."

Lily swung herself upright, her emerald gaze sharp as it locked onto his, a crooked smile tugging at her lips. "A reluctant king who’d rather be a rogue? That’s rich, James." She nudged him with her boot, but her voice softened, betraying something deeper beneath her jest. "But I understand. You’re not the only one shackled, some of us have to be ladies."

She didn’t need to say more—he saw it in the way her eyes flickered toward the castle far below, where the court awaited her with its gowns and ballrooms, finishing schools and chains of propriety. They wanted to shape her into something delicate, something that would never fit the wild soul who raced horses and climbed trees. Each time she donned those silken gowns, a piece of her freedom crumbled, as if the wild, fierce girl James knew was slipping further away.

And he saw it—saw her. The girl who ruled the stables and the orchards with a wicked grin, who faced down the palace guards with nothing but fire in her veins—that Lily was fading. And it scared him more than any crown, any throne.

At first, she didn’t notice how his gaze lingered too long when she wore those gowns, or how his easy laughter softened into something quieter, something almost vulnerable. But when she caught him staring across the banquet hall, his hazel eyes darkened with emotions he never spoke aloud, her heart clenched. This wasn’t the teasing look of a boy toward his best friend—it was something far more dangerous.

It was love, and they were both cursed to someone else. 

Now, in the soft light of the setting sun, James looked at her with that same quiet intensity, the silence between them stretching like a thread about to snap. The world was shifting outside their orchard, and they both knew they couldn’t outrun it forever.

“Lily,” James whispered, his voice barely a breath, trembling with uncertainty. “What if we didn’t do it? What if we ran? Right now. No throne, no court, no ballrooms. Just us. We could be free.”

Her breath hitched, the weight of his words pressing against her heart, against the fragile future they had both been avoiding. The thought of leaving it all behind—the duty, the expectations—was intoxicating. But the world beyond their wild kingdom wasn’t so kind, and they both knew it.

“You know we can’t.” Was her well-thought response. 

Still, for a brief, heart-stopping moment, she let herself imagine it. A life where they weren’t bound by the chains of duty. A world where they were simply Lily and James, free to race the wind beneath an endless sky. Free to be together. 

But the court had other plans, ones that made her blood burn with anger. James’s seventeenth birthday loomed, and with it, the court’s expectations. He was to leave, journey to a neighboring kingdom, and meet the princess they had chosen for him—his future bride. A girl handpicked for political alliances, with royal blood and the cold calculation of a council that cared nothing for the boy who would one day wear the crown.

The thought of him with someone else—someone polished and perfect, chosen by strangers—made her want to scream.

She had spent too many sleepless nights staring at her ceiling, the ache in her chest growing sharper as the day James would leave her loomed closer. But it wasn’t just the fear of losing him to another that gnawed at her. It was the fear of losing him entirely—the boy who laughed too loud, who pulled her into mischief, who belonged in the world with her, not trapped in the gilded throne room.

They didn’t speak of it, but the weight of their impending separation hung between them, heavy as smoke, choking the air.

And then everything changed.

It happened during one of the royal feasts—extravagant, tedious affairs that Lily despised, though she had no choice but to attend. This particular banquet was worse than usual. A delegation from a neighboring kingdom had arrived, bringing with them a wizard of notorious arrogance, a man whose pride filled the hall like a suffocating fog. Lord Voldemort, as he called himself, was infamous for holding grudges and commanding fear wherever he went, and from the moment he entered the feast, his presence cast a pall over the room.

Lily had been doing her best to avoid the pomp and pretense, standing by the punch bowl, her laughter bright and genuine as she chatted with James. He had been making a sarcastic comment about how the stuffed pigeons decorating the banquet table looked as if they were on the verge of exploding. She couldn’t help but laugh at his dry wit, the sound of her amusement carrying through the hall. It was one of those moments that made the dreary event almost bearable.

But then, in the middle of their banter, Lily accidentally stepped back—right onto Lord Voldemort’s foot.

“I’m so sorry,” she said immediately, her laughter fading as she turned to face the man. His presence was oppressive, his face pale and snake-like, with a nose so flat it was almost non-existent. She tried to explain, “I didn’t see you there, I was—”

“Watch where you’re going, you bumbling peasant,” the wizard snapped.

Lily froze, her apology caught in her throat. The insult stung, but before she could say another word, James was already stepping forward, his expression hardening in a way Lily hadn’t seen in a long time. His eyes, usually filled with warmth and mischief, were sharp now, blazing with something far more dangerous.

“Mind your tone,” James said, his voice steady but laced with a warning. He placed himself slightly in front of Lily, his posture defensive, protective. “She apologized. You could try some manners for a change.”

Voldemort sneered, his dark eyes narrowing. “Manners? From the likes of her? She should be more careful in the presence of her betters.”

Lily flinched at the cruel words, but before she could react, James was already moving. His usual reckless energy shifted into something far more intense, more deliberate. He stepped closer to Voldemort, his voice low and biting. “There’s no one in this hall who's better, least of all you. I suggest you keep your opinions to yourself.”

The tension between them crackled. James, ever the reckless prince, didn’t back down, his chest rising and falling with controlled breaths, his hazel eyes flashing with defiance. It was one thing to insult him—James could brush off nearly any slight with a grin and a clever retort. 

But to insult Lily? 

That was unforgivable.

Lily placed a hand on James’ arm, trying to defuse the situation before it escalated further. “James, it’s fine, really,” she whispered, though her heart swelled at his unwavering defense of her.

But James wasn’t finished. He’d already taken an instant dislike to the wizard, and now that dislike was searing into something more. The man’s arrogance, the way his presence commanded the room with fear, grated against James’ very nature. And the way he had spoken to Lily—it lit a fire in James that couldn’t be easily extinguished.

The moment Voldemort’s sweeping robes brushed against the table, knocking over a bowl of pea soup that splattered onto his stately robes, the prince’s lips curled into a grin, one that was far from friendly. The room had already fallen into an uneasy silence, the courtiers sensing the brewing conflict. James’s shoes were partially covered, but Lily watched as he kicked the bowl so it splattered along the backside of Lord Vodemort’s robes purposely. 

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” James said, his voice dripping with exaggerated politeness, the mockery in his tone impossible to miss. “I like hot soup.” 

“You foolish boy!” Voldemort’s pale face darkened, his long fingers twitching toward his wand as he looked down at the mess. “It’s ruined my robes!” he said dramatically, his voice oozing with disdain.

James raised an eyebrow, the dangerous glint in his hazel eyes sharpening. “Let me help you with that, Lord Moldy-mort,” he said, the nickname slipping from his lips with a grin that could only be described as audacious.

The hall went deathly still. Courtiers exchanged wide-eyed glances, some stifling nervous laughter, others holding their breath. Everyone knew the wizard was dangerous, his temper legendary. But James Potter had never been one to hold his tongue, and certainly not when someone insulted the people he cared about.

Voldemort’s face turned a livid shade of purple, his pride wounded beyond repair. His hand gripped his wand tightly, and for a moment, it looked as if he might lash out in front of the entire court. But James didn’t flinch. He stood his ground, his smile never faltering, his body a shield between Voldemort’s venomous gaze and Lily.

“Careful, little Prince,” Voldemort hissed, his voice low and menacing. “You don’t know who you’re toying with.”

James tilted his head, his grin never wavering. “Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea.”

Lily’s heart raced as she watched the exchange, fear creeping up her spine, though she’d never say it out loud. But beneath the fear was something else—something fiercer. The way James stood there, unyielding, ready to defend her without a second thought, made her chest tighten in a way that had nothing to do with fear. He wasn’t just standing up to Voldemort for the sake of a joke or some reckless impulse. 

He was standing up for her.

And in that moment, she knew.

Voldemort’s eyes flicked from James to Lily, his sneer deepening. “You’ll regret this, boy,” he spat, before sweeping away from the table in a whirl of dark robes, leaving the hall in tense, uneasy silence.

As soon as the wizard was gone, the tension broke like a dam, the courtiers whispering amongst themselves, some in disbelief, others in admiration of James’ boldness. But Lily could only focus on the boy in front of her, her heart still pounding.

“James…” she began, her voice soft, unsure of what to say.

He turned to her, his expression softening as his hand found hers, his thumb brushing against her knuckles in a silent gesture of comfort. “You alright?”

She nodded. “You didn’t have to do that.”

James shrugged. “Course I did. No one talks to you like that.”

Lily felt a warmth spread through her, her heart full. James had always been her partner in chaos, her partner in everything. But in moments like this, when he stood between her and the world, she realized just how much more he was. 

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice catching.

James squeezed her hand gently, his eyes twinkling with that familiar mischief. “Anytime, Lily. Now, let’s get out of here before Princess Mary tries to hunt me down.”

But the lingering unease in the pit of her stomach refused to fade.

Days later, while sparring in the training yard, James pricked his finger on a blade that should have been ordinary. The moment the metal touched his skin, he collapsed, his body crumpling to the ground. Panic swept through the castle, Sirius Black shouting for help as physicians and wizards were summoned, their magic and remedies useless. No one could wake the prince.

James had fallen into an unnatural sleep, cursed—everyone knew—by the wizard whose pride he had wounded.

Lily’s world shattered in that moment. She had always known there would be a day when James would be pulled away from her, bound by duty to a crown she despised. 

But not like this. 

Not so suddenly. 

Not with so much left unsaid between them.

She had rushed to his chambers, heart pounding, disbelief clawing at her throat as she stood over his still body. She had shaken him, called his name over and over until her voice cracked, tears spilling down her cheeks as she begged him to wake. But James lay silent, his face serene, as though simply asleep. The lively spark of his hazel eyes was gone, and with it, her world.

All the king’s men, and all their horses, couldn’t find a way to save him.

Weeks bled into months, and hope drained from the kingdom. The people whispered of James as though he were already lost. Lily could hear the courtiers murmur about the next heir, the rumors of who might take the throne if James never woke. It was as though the world had already moved on without him, as though he was a ghost in his own palace.

And in that time, the pressure mounted on Lily. Her father, the Captain of the Guard, had sat her down one evening, his eyes heavy with both sorrow and duty. “You have to think about your place, Lily,” he’d said, his voice quiet yet firm. “The world keeps turning, even when we lose the ones we love. You’re getting older, it’s time to marry, and the Prince is not yours to marry–not anyone’s at this moment.”

But how could she think of courtly duties, of finding her place, when the boy who was her entire world lay trapped in an enchanted sleep? How could she care about dancing lessons and courtship when James was locked in this cursed slumber, unreachable behind a veil of dark magic?

So she stayed by his bedside, day after day, her heart splitting in two. Sometimes she whispered to him, her voice barely a breath, telling him stories of their adventures, of the times they’d ruled the palace together as kids. Other times, she simply sat in silence, willing him to wake, to bring back the boy who had always been there, with his laughter, his teasing smile.

But no magic, no remedy, nothing could reach him.

That was when she threw herself into the search, hunting through the castle’s dusty archives, seeking out every healer and sorcerer she could find. She combed through ancient texts and forgotten spells with a desperation that burned in her chest. The months turned into years, but failure only sharpened her determination. She refused to believe that this was how it would end.

And then, finally, she found it. Hidden away in the forgotten corners of the castle’s vast library, a crumbling book told an old folktale—of a prince cursed into eternal sleep, who could only be awakened by a kiss of true love.

Lily scoffed at first. 

A kiss? 

It sounded absurd, like something from one of the fairytales she and James had mocked in their younger years. But after every spell had failed, after years of searching, she began to wonder. Could there be some truth to the legend? Was it possible that, in all her searching, the simplest answer had been there all along?

With nothing left to lose, she climbed the spiral stairs to the tower where James slept, her heart thundering in her chest. True love’s kiss. It sounded ridiculous. And yet… she couldn’t deny the weight of what lay between them, the unspoken bond that had always been more than friendship, more than mischief. 

Could it really be so simple?

She stopped at his bedside, her heart a storm of emotions. Staring down at James, at the boy who had been her partner in every adventure, she rolled her eyes. “Alright, Prince,” she muttered, her voice catching in her throat. “Enough of this. Time to wake up.”

With a deep breath, she leaned down and pressed her lips to his—softly, as if it was the smallest test. But the moment their lips touched, something surged through her. Magic sparked between them, and for a single heartbeat, the world seemed to pause.

Then, slowly, James stirred.

His eyes fluttered open, hazel and familiar, blinking in confusion. He looked up at her, dazed. “…Lily?” His voice was rough, but the sound of it nearly broke her.

Lily’s breath hitched, disbelief flooding her. “James… you’re awake!”

He sat up slowly, blinking as though waking from a dream. “What happened?” he rasped, his voice laced with confusion.

Lily laughed, her breath coming in short, shaky bursts as she tried to steady herself. “Turns out I’m your true love. Who would’ve guessed?”

James’ dazed confusion melted into a familiar, teasing grin, though there was a vulnerability in his gaze that hadn’t been there before. “True love, huh?” he mused, his voice raspy but playful. “I always knew you couldn’t resist me.”

She smacked his arm lightly, though her heart pounded in her chest, the joy bubbling up, overwhelming. He was back. He was really back. And with him, that wildfire between them, the connection that had never dimmed, even in all the years of silence. It was as though the world had shifted back into place, the axis she hadn’t realized had been off-kilter correcting itself.

James sat up slowly, his body stiff from years of unnatural stillness, but his hand moved with familiar ease as it cupped her cheek. Lily felt the warmth of his palm, the roughness of his fingers as if it were the first time. She settled beside him on the mattress, leaning into his touch as his eyes roamed her face, taking in the changes. The way her cheekbones had sharpened, how there were faint lines around her eyes from years of worry, yet they still crinkled the same when she smiled.

“How old are we?” he asked suddenly, his voice laced with disbelief.

Lily hesitated, biting her lip. “I turned twenty a few moons ago.”

His breath hitched. “You mean I’ve been asleep for five years?” His voice cracked, and the weight of it hit him all at once—five years, gone in the blink of an eye for him, while the world outside had kept spinning.

“Five years too long,” she whispered, her throat tightening as she met his gaze. “I tried everything, James. Spells, potions, every piece of magic I could find. I turned the whole kingdom upside down—except for this.” She gave a soft, incredulous laugh, her fingers brushing against his. “I didn’t even know true love’s kiss was real.”

James’ eyes softened, his hand still resting gently on her cheek. “Can I have another?” he asked, his voice low and warm. “I dreamed of you kissing me for five years.”

Lily’s breath caught, her eyes widening. “You dreamed of me?” she whispered, barely able to comprehend it.

He nodded, pressing his forehead to hers, the intimacy of the gesture sending shivers down her spine. “Every moment. Every second. I would’ve dreamed about you for eternity if that’s what it took to be with you again.”

Her heart swelled, the sheer depth of his words unraveling the knot of pain she’d carried for so long. Without another thought, she kissed him, her fingers threading through his messy black hair as she pulled him closer. And this time, it wasn’t just an experiment, or a test of some ancient magic. It was a kiss full of years of longing, of love unspoken but always there, burning beneath the surface.

James responded with a fervor that made her knees weak, his hands sliding up her back as if he needed to feel every inch of her, to remind himself that this wasn’t a dream. The kiss was slow and deep, a promise of everything they had lost and everything they still had left to gain.

When they finally pulled apart, both breathless, Lily couldn’t help but smile—a smile so wide and bright it made her cheeks ache. She rested her forehead against his again, her voice a whisper, but steady. “I love you,” she confessed, the words finally spilling free after years of being buried beneath fear and uncertainty. “I’ve loved you for so long.”

James’ eyes shone with something deeper than his usual teasing mischief. His grin softened, and he reached for her hand, twining their fingers together. “Well,” he said, his voice full of warmth and that familiar spark of adventure, “I guess we’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

Lily laughed, the sound light and free in a way it hadn’t been in years. “Oh, you have no idea,” she teased, but her heart felt whole again for the first time in so long.

They sat there, in the stillness of the tower room. Time, for once, seemed to slow down, allowing them this moment, this reunion. No curse, no villain, would ever keep them apart again. She'd found the way to save them. 

[elliesmainhoe]

Ellie Williams Headcanons: Knight!Ellie X Princess!Reader Part 2

My Masterlist

Ellie hates Balls.(💀) It annoys her so much that she has to stand back idly, having to watch princes and lords from faraway lands come over and ask to dance with you.

Due to royal etiquette, to keep relations between the kingdoms positive, you are obliged to accept.

It disgusts you. The fact that these egotistical men come over and boss you around really pisses you off. And the urge to slap them into oblivion is strong. But that's not lady like. So Ellie does it for you.

Ellie watches them like a hawk, trying desperately to find them doing something worthy of punishment.

And she always does.

You and her always escape the cramped ballroom, sneaking out to the gardens and walking around.

Stargazing with knight!Ellie. She names and shows you all different constellations that she'd read up on in the royal library.

The muffled sound of the orchestra had seeped into yours and Ellie's sanctuary. You were both sprawled out on a grassy hill staring at the dark sky, having fled the claustrophobic ballroom.

"You see that one there" Ellie asked pointing to a collection of stars. "That constellation is called 'The winged horse' named because it's shaped as a Pegasus"

"huh really? I don't see it." You say propped up on your elbows and gazing at your girl's beautiful face.

"To be honest, me neither" she chuckled sitting up slightly and pressing a brief kiss onto your plush lips.

You hate hate HATE, royal banquets. Every whenever you have a one you try and flee, hiding in the garden maze.

Ellie can not name the amount of times she's had to go and find you. When she finds you she throws you over her shoulder and starts lecturing you. Lmao.

Whenever you fall ill she is absolutely smothering you with love.

She goes to the kitchens and fetches you food herself. You refuse to take medicine so she has to convince you to.

Lays next to you in bed, petting your hair and rubbing your back to try and comfort you.

Definitely holds your hair back when you need to throw up.

Loves to dance with you. The royal palace is full of music, wherever you are you can hear an orchestra.

So when you two are alone and can hear music, she twirls you around and you playfully dance together, stumbling, steeping on each others feet and full of laughter.

She is so supportive of you.

You could make the dumbest decision ever and she would follow you blindly.

------------

Requested by:

@soapisokay @a-prism

I hope you liked it! I'm off to bed now everyone. Goodnight ! ❤️