#( lighthearted swordsman ic. ) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ryukyuan-sunflower · 6 years

Text

Sara: A Grieving Mother is a Huge Piece in the Fuugen Puzzle

I was recently asked by an anonymous messenger about the relationship between Mugen and Sara. Not knowing if Mugen had feelings for Sara or not, it made them question Fuugen. Time to clear up some doubts.

Links to specific scenes are underlined.

Mugen and Sara have a very interesting character dynamic. But do I consider it romantic? Not at all. (Someone is bound to disagree with me). But whether you decide to believe in Fuugen or not, it is very clear that each scene with Sara, we get scenes between Fuu and Mugen. Sara’s episodes have them spend so much time alone together.

Firstly, Mugen flirts with every woman he finds attractive. Which would total to being around 6 in the series total (not counting manga, cause boy, there’s more). Hotaru, Budoukiba, the two girls he stole food from, Yatsuha and also Sara. So, it is not as if Sara is the only woman he finds attractive or has flirted with. In fact, Fuu would be the unique character in that, he comments on her appearance and then puts it down. Anyone who argues “She’s like a sister figure to him”, will then be thrown off by the fact Mugen asked to see her boobs...comments on her no sex appeal multiple times, remarks that she was probably raped and dumped etc etc. Not things you should ever say to someone you’d consider your sister figure.

Fuu changed Mugen. Fuu makes Mugen care. Mugen made sacrifices for Fuu. Mugen never hurt Fuu, and always came back to save her/help her find her father despite his repeated “attempts” to leave.

I do not see Sara representing a romantic figure to Mugen at all. As YouTuber Final Rantasy pointed out in the video Fuu’s empathy: how a friendship changed killers into warriors, he explains how Fuu’s empathy rekindled Sara’s humanity and allowed her to see a mirror of her lost son in Mugen, thus causing her to spare Mugen’s life, not once, but twice. Link to this part of the video is here.

Sara represents a maternal figure for Mugen. Now, let’s get into it.

Unlike Fuu, Sara is not a character who changed Mugen for the better, or made him see differently on anything. She is not a catalyst for Mugen’s character growth, besides for his first time feeling pity over killing someone. BUT, that doesn’t mean she is not important. She is SUPER important for us viewers.

Sara reveals what kind of person Mugen was already. Before Fuu and Jin.

Because of their dialogue, and also the storyline of episodes 13 and 14, we find out that Mugen is not just this cocky, arrogant, womanizing asshole. He knows of sorrow and suffering due to his upbringing, the betrayals, and stigma attached to his criminal past. Not only that, but we see he believes that no one has ever loved him. Mugen may actually be lonely.

The first convo we see this, is where Mugen sneaks into the hot spring with Sara.

“I have walked in darkness for a long time. But people can grow accustomed to anything. Even if you can’t see, you become able to sense other things. I don’t want you to feel sorry for me.”

“That’s a load of bullshit. Nobody who’s happy could sing that song of yours.”

This reveals that Mugen must feel something from her music; something sorrowful. And to feel sorrow, one must understand it.

After a brief, comical moment of Fuu and Mugen seeing each other naked...and Mugen also saying he didn’t make a move on Sara…(BY STANDING UP TO SHOW FUU HIS PENIS WAS NOT ERECT. LMAO THIS KILLS ME), Mugen then leaves and Fuu talks with Sara.

Sara asks Fuu what Mugen looks like. She has an image of him in her head. Fuu’s response is pretty hilarious. She goes on a whole tangent about how unattractive he is, and how she shouldn’t go with a guy like that.

Sara’s response is ambiguous.

“What?” she says, with an almost eerie seriousness. This “what” is so. Damn. Important.

This can mean two things:

1. She is confused why Fuu goes on a tangent. Like saying “Huh?” Fuu misinterpreted Sara’s reason for wondering what Mugen looked like, as her being interested in Mugen romantically. This clearly isn’t the case. Why would she want to know what Mugen looks like, if her end game is to kill them all? Because she never got to SEE her own son grow up.

2. OR, she is asking why Fuu has the need to go on a tangent. It is clear that Fuu is embarrassed after spouting all these bad things about Mugen almost defensively. If this was the reason why, this connects into three later scenes that she shares with Fuu. The first is when the two are going to sleep. She tells Fuu “One thing I cannot read are people’s feelings.” Then she asks “Which is the one you don’t want to leave?” Fuu gets embarrassed and hides under the blankets (We see Fuu picks Mugen to stay later). The second scene is when she asks Fuu if she really wants to continue the journey to the end. The third...is when Sara goes to kill Mugen...and stops because Fuu begs for his life. She realizes in these three scenes...why Fuu goes on that tangent…

Fuu does not answer Sara’s “what” and just mumbles, and hides her mouth in the water, blowing bubbles. Fuu later stomps to Mugen’s room, opens the doors, and with a blush on her face, apologizes to Mugen. This confuses him.

Fuu apologized for two potential reasons.

1. She is sorry for calling Mugen ugly. Because he is not.

2. She is sorry for assuming Mugen made a move on Sara, when he did not.

Hmm….

As for Fuu and Sara’s conversations, there is a moment where Fuu asks Sara if she has a son or a daughter. Sara had a son. Had she had a daughter, she would most likely have more connection to Fuu, especially since Fuu was separated from her father and also was raised by her mother until she passed away. Instead, they chose to write Sara being separated from her son, to have more a connection to Mugen.

Now then, more on Mugen and Sara’s convos:

“I wonder if my son would like this.”

“Beats me. As far back as I can remember, I never had any parents. I wouldn’t know.”

Mugen and Sara have deep conversations, yes. But they are never happy or lighthearted ones. Every meaningful conversation the two ever have is pertaining to the same concepts: sadness, his parents, and her child. Or all in one.

“You and I may be a lot alike. I never knew the meaning of the word happiness. The closest I came was when my son was born.” This reveals something about Sara, along with her other line: “It’s as if you have never once been loved. It’s as if you are like me.”

Sara was not loved by the father of her child. Sara had never known happiness, even when she met the father of her child. Sara is implied to have been raped.

In fact, I am positive that this is the case.

According to the Roman Album of Samurai Champloo, the episodes about Sara the goze are inspired by Zatoichi, the infamous blind swordsman of Japanese filmography. Well, after Samurai Champloo, a movie was made in 2008 called Ichi, telling the story of a blind woman taken in and raised BY Zatoichi. Guess what. She was a goze musician. Also, guess what. She was a trained assassin.

Icing on the cake? Ichi was raped, and was kicked out of her goze household as a result. Goze must never marry and remain celibate if they continue performing for charity. The reason behind this, if they have lovers or husbands, they must be getting financial support and no longer needed charity. Of course, women throughout history were obviously raped but that was no excuse.

Remember when Fuu asked where the father was? Sara’s only response was “The father is no longer around.” And she smiles.

In Ichi, her rapist tries to attack her again, and she ends up killing him with a hidden blade HIDDEN IN HER CANE. YES. CANE.

Ichi had to be inspired by Sara. This then goes back to the idea, that Sara’s son was a result of rape.

Now as for a more personal fan theory about this: Mugen may also be the result of rape. Mugen was born on a penal colony in the Ryukyuan Islands, and as far back as he can remember, he had no parents. Neither a mother or a father. According to Koza, this place was a living hell. If the people on the island were Japanese criminals exiled there, aside from the native Ryukyuans...and Mugen was born there, it is a high possibility Mugen’s mother was raped by a criminal.

Rape seems to be a theme in episode 13 and 14. Mukuro killed Koza’s mother for unknown reasons. And despite the claim that he is her “brother”, Fuu points out they look nothing alike. There is also a clearly sexual scene where Mukuro rubs his thumb along Koza’s lips as she stares in fear. She also tells Fuu she “wishes her brother were dead”. Then, Mukuro sells Koza off to Shige to be raped in exchange for the help to raid the gold from the ship. He did not know that Koza actually wanted to be with Shige and betrayed him. So yes, rape must have been a part of Ryukyuan life if it was so clearly tied to Koza.

If this is the case of Mugen’s mother, then that shows yet another sign of Sara being a parallel.

But regardless of rape theory, Mugen was separated from his mother for some reason or another just as Sara was separated from her child.

Fuu picks Jin to leave with Sara so she may see her son. Watch this scene here.

“Why him and not me?!” Mugen yells.

“It’d be too dangerous being alone with a guy like you.”

Um. Fuu. Fuu honey. You will be alone with him then...

“And she’s safe with this bozo?!”

“Jin would never do something like that!”

Notice his shock at that declaration, and then how he closes his mouth, and shuts up as she speaks. Mugen seems upset that she supposedly sees him as a bad guy taking advantage of Sara, rather than Jin. He makes no further argument about leaving with Sara.

We know Fuu is lying. She doesn’t send keep Mugen due to him being a pervert. Earlier, Sara asked who she didn’t want to leave. And Fuu broke down in tears about it, and ran away. Obviously, she cares about both Jin and Mugen, but she inevitably chooses Jin to go, using Mugen’s pervertedness as an excuse. She didn't want Jin to leave either, but the moment she cries over his departure is more comical in nature.

Notice how Mugen parts ways with Jin and Sara. Parts. Ways.

See, Jin is suspicious of Sara and that’s why he left so willingly. Mugen and Fuu were not. Mugen had no idea if he’d see Jin again. The fact that he was WILLING to leave not only Sara, but JIN, to help Fuu find the sunflower samurai speaks volumes of his relationship with Fuu.

So if you think he had feelings for Sara, or if you think Sara interferes with the fuugen ship...please remember this detail. Mugen obeyed Fuu, and was willing to say goodbye to Jin and Sara to travel all the way passed Nagasaki with Fuu alone. And when Fuu cries over Jin, he gets annoyed, stomps away and continues ahead of her. So he is serious about fulfilling his duty.

When Mugen and Fuu take Sara back to the shack for recovery, something is off about Mugen. He stays a far distance from Sara, and then runs off to find Jin, despite Fuu’s worried protest. Honestly, this is a really cute moment of Mugen; how he obviously cares a lot about Jin’s safety and searches until sunset for his body (excuse is, he wants to be the one to kill him). Instead, he finds Sara’s weapons...and figures it all out.

At the first moment of him realizing Sara “killed” Jin, he had no hesitancy in going to kill her. I am sure he felt betrayed when he kicked the firewood, but I think that Mugen was far angrier that Jin was “dead”. These two are best frenemies. Mugen going to avenge Jin is also a mirror of Jin going to avenge Mugen by killing Mukuro in episode 14. Later on, even after Jin is alive, he is still willing to fight her again to protect himself, as well as Fuu and Jin.

Imo, the craziest moment in the story was when Fuu saw them fighting. Sara’s wording summed up everything.

Sara almost kills Mugen, and then says this line: “I can see without seeing. Powerful rage swirls within you. I cannot tell whether or not it is sadness. It is as if you have never once been loved… It’s as if, you are like me.”

But then Fuu jumps on top of him after he collapses, throwing her life in the way to prevent Sara from killing him. Sara actually gasps here, eyes widening. She is surprised. She was wrong. Mugen’s face in this scene also looks surprised. He too did not expect anyone to care about him that much, that they would throw their life in the way. Mugen does have someone who loves him. It can’t be more blatant than that. Sara. Just. Said. Love. And then Fuu did that.

For that reason, Sara turns away, even though her orders were very clear to kill them all. And she does end up coming back to fight Mugen again. Why she stopped here is very obvious, then. She couldn’t bring herself to kill Fuu or Mugen here, after such a huge act of sacrifice.

Reminder: Fuu never did anything like this for Jin.

When Sara takes pity on him, and leaves, Mugen is still angry despite his condition and still wants to fight her.

After this, we get to see Fuu apply a salve to Mugen’s face. Then another scene where she tries to talk him out of fighting her.

Later, when Mugen goes to kill Sara...Fuu wakes up, looking for Mugen and says his name.

Was Mugen bothered by Sara’s death? Yes. It is the only person that we see Mugen regrets killing. They were different though. Mugen loved battle. Sara saw only sorrow from it. Him being pissed off about her death, was not the fact that she died. It was the manner of how she died. Mugen had every intention to kill her, or die trying. He even seemed excited about it, just as he was excited to fight Jin.

The fact that she held back...and also...her reasoning for wanting to kill him was never for the joy of fighting. It was solely for her son, which in the end, was a futile effort.

His eyes in this scene are extremely soft when she mentions her son. Mugen empathized with her, and also pitied her. And that shows a lot about Mugen. She says that no one can escape the government no matter how far they may run. Even him, Fuu and Jin are still wanted.

Sara’s last words to Mugen relate to him being like a son she was never allowed to have.

“I figured it out today...my son died a long time ago. I was just being used.”

“Then why…?”

“I can’t fight them. They’re the government.”

“I want you to live, Mugen.”

Mugen must live on. By holding back, and allowing him to kill her, Sara, in her own way, saved Mugen’s life. She was unable to save her son, and this was the only way she was able to redeem herself.

Sara had conversations with Mugen about her child. And Sara had conversations with Fuu about Mugen. “I can’t sense people’s feelings.” “Which one don’t you want to leave?”

These episode featured lots and lots of scenes of Mugen and Fuu together. Jin barely interacted with them and had less screentime, most of which was separated from them; fighting Sara, and being trained to fish by Jonny.

This episode was about Mugen’s past way of life, and Fuu’s feelings for Mugen saving him from a life of sorrow.

Sara let Mugen live, solely because she saw that he deserved to live in place of her own miserable existence. A life worth living. Mugen was not like her anymore. He found happiness. He found people who care about him. He found someone willing to die for him.

One last thing: The repeated symbolism of a pinwheel is used throughout Sara’s episodes.

From what I can gather, a pinwheel seems to represent childhood innocence. Numerous anime use it this way: The Hakkenden has an image of a pinwheel torn apart when the virgin princess is forced to marry a dog, to fulfill the bargain of whoever killed her father’s enemy. (This sounds awful, but anime explains it). Cowboy Bebop has Ed find a pinwheel in her orphanage, and then she hands it to Spike. Cowboy Bebop’s director is the same as Samurai Champloo too so it clearly has the same symbolism.

First, Fuu sees one when a child is being carried on a woman’s back… Later, at the festival, the assassin is selling pinwheels. Lastly, when Sara realizes her son is dead, a pinwheel flies off into the wind.

There is one other appearance of a pinwheel in Samurai Champloo. In episode one, Mugen flicks a pinwheel outside of Fuu’s restaurant, right before he meets her for the first time.

The colors are very similar too.

Coincidence? I think not.

While the pinwheel flick could have been a simple start of a journey, it was also Mugen meeting the most innocent woman in his life. One who did not betray him, and showed him more empathy than anyone else.

And the same color pinwheel in episode 20, may symbolize Mugen is the son figure for Sara, after losing her own.

Perhaps this will help you see a new outlook of Mugen’s relationship to Sara.

#samurai champloo #Fuu #mugen #Sara samurai champloo #Fuugen #fuugen feels

122 notes · View notes

unlockthelore · 5 years

Text

Preparation - Remind Me [CH. 2]

“Bring me into the world, you say?”

The world seemed to hold its breath at Hiei’s declaration and at the Dragon’s words, it dared to breathe. A stiff breeze swept past him as his cloak billowed in the wind, hair whipping about, obscuring his view of the Dragon’s piercing gaze. The entity’s words reverberated through him, resonating within the very depths of his being and stirring something within his soul, kindling a flame that’d been lit since he stepped foot on the island.

“I wasn’t aware of an echo,” Hiei said tersely.

The Dragon’s lips pulled back, sharpened teeth glimmering in the sunlight reflecting off its scales, and Hiei wasn’t sure if it was grinning at his ill-placed joke or sneering at the cheekiness of it all. Considering that he hadn’t been set ablaze, he assumed that it was torn between the two.

“You know not what you ask for, summoner.”

Hiei huffed. “You think me incompetent?” He asked, pushing back his sleeve and baring the Dragon’s mark not only to the entity itself but the watching eyes of the Void. “And yet you were conquered by me.”

The Dragon’s eyes widened and its pupils dilated, the rock cracking and splintering beneath the force of its claws as it lurched forward. Hiei tensed up but forced himself to remain in place as he stood mere inches away from the Dragon’s massive teeth, the steam pouring from its nostrils enough to heat the air and blow back his hair from his eyes. The waves crashing against the rock evaporating into vapor as it spoke.

“You conquered nothing, summoner.”

A pang of hurt wrested for control in Hiei’s chest and he nearly wanted to show the Dragon just how much he had grown. Though there felt like an odd tug, not desperation, but something akin to insult. Hiei lowered his arm and let his sleeve slip past his elbow, covering the mark from view. The Dragon had existed long before he’d been born, even older than Kurama, and King Enma — he couldn’t imagine the surprise and humiliation that may have come from being bound to someone.

Or the conflicting pride and aggravation which came with knowing your strength could go further and you had not yet reached your peak.

“Then tell me what it is that I ask for, Dragon,” Hiei said. “If I have not conquered you, then what meaning does this mark have?”

He’d dealt with entities out of his depth before. The Sword of Darkness being one of them. Though while the Dragon was akin to speaking of the terms of their agreement, the Sword had lulled him into a false sense of security, and once caught in its hold he nearly killed someone he loved. Uncertainty roiled in Hiei’s stomach and waged war against his need for safety and security. The Dragon’s heady gaze doing little to assuage his worries as the entity scrutinized him carefully, as if deciding whether or not he was worth answering or killing.

Tightening his fist, Hiei tipped his head back and stared into the Dragon’s eyes.

After a moment of the Dragon studying him, the entity leant back and turned its head toward the sky, the sun peeking over the tip of its muzzle. “A reminder,” it said evasively.

“Reminder?”

The Dragon settled back, more of its body slipping beneath the waves as it rested its head between its claws. “Of who I once was,” it said as its eyes slipped shut. “You are every bit of stubborn as the being I used to be.”

Hiei scowled and folded his arms across his chest. Curious as he was at the statement, he doubted that he was that stubborn. Or that his stubbornness was a terrible thing to bear. After all, it had gotten him this far. For better or worse. The Dragon seemed to sense his displeasure, a deep rumbling that Hiei almost believed to be a laugh, shaking the rock beneath his feet and shifting the waves further from the Dragon’s being.

“I doubt that a warning or even a wound will deter you from your chosen goal,” the Dragon said, a glimmer of amusement in its eyes as it opened them to look at Hiei with a silent challenge posed in the curl of its lip.

Hiei huffed and tightened his grip on his forearms, the mark burning and itching in response to the challenge. “You would be right,” he said, lifting his chin and glaring down his nose despite the disparity between their heights. “I’ve suffered through more than your scrutiny.”

The mark’s burn and ache intensified and Hiei gritted his teeth as the Dragon narrowed its eyes at him.

“That I am aware of,” it said once the burning eased and Hiei dared to breathe, clutching his arm in a vice grip. “So perhaps you can suffer through a story.”

“A story?”

The Dragon shut its eyes and hummed low, the sound reverberating off the cliffside and startling a flock of birds in a nearby tree. “You are not the first to have bared that mark, regardless of what the stories may have told you.”

“I’m not?” Hiei asked slowly, his grip on his arms loosening.

All of the stories of the Dragon of the Darkness Flame mentioned many summoners beckoning to curry the Dragon’s favor but it always ended in death. None could match the Dragon’s power and risked being overtaken, if not destroyed in their pursuit. Hiei attributed it to his own strength that he’d managed to trap the Dragon within his being but the skepticism was eating away at his resolve.

“Does it make you feel any lesser to know this?” the Dragon asked, far too lighthearted and smug for Hiei’s liking.

“No.” Hiei snapped, resting his hands at his sides, glaring at the Dragon venomously. “Only foolish for believing fairy tales.”

The Dragon hummed quietly, the disbelief palpable but it said nothing further on the matter, its voice wistful and winding like the old bandits who sat around the campfire and told stories of their glory days when Hiei was a child.

“The first was a young woman whom I was quite fond of. She was kind-hearted and brash, wielding kindness and resolve like a blade, she was formidable.”

Hiei felt compelled to lower himself to the ground and listen attentively but he hesitated to move. The closer that he was to the Dragon’s jaws, the more his anxiety overwhelmed. Instead, he tried to imagine the woman that the Dragon spoke of. Kind-hearted and brash. The image of a young man with slicked back hair came to mind.

Kindness and resolve. The image of a loud-mouthed swordsman, hair done up in a pompadour and constantly spouting off about his resolve, undeterred by the limitations of his humanity.

Formidable. The glimpse of red and green giving way to silver and gold, a person strong despite the form, choosing kindness over cruelty.

Seemingly unaware of Hiei’s mind wandering, the Dragon continued speaking. “I was unwieldy. A soul lost among the sea of eternity, with nothing but time and emptiness to keep me company.” The Dragon’s eyes opened and though it stared ahead, Hiei felt that it wasn’t looking at him, but a distant past that he couldn’t see. “More than once, she came to me as you are now, and spoke to me in a tone that made it seem as if she were familiar with my mind.”

“Your life isn’t expendable,” a short red-haired boy hissed, gripping him by the shoulders, his fingers pressing uncomfortably into Hiei’s skin. Those hands that wrapped his bandages carefully were holding him tight enough that he couldn’t think to look elsewhere. Lost in a sea of green, his voice drowned out the rampant refusals he could think of.

“No matter what you think, your life means something.”

“I know the feeling.” Hiei muttered, resting his hand against his stomach, the itchiness of bandages with plants fibers sewn into them making his skin crawl and his heart ache.

“As I’m sure you do.” The Dragon said, and Hiei thought to ask what it meant but the entity continued on heedless of his curiosity. “I rebuked her, I yelled at her, I raged. But she was strong. So strong that she quelled my anger with not only her fists when I was volatile but her words when I was subdued.”

Hiei snorted, resting a hand on his hip. “You could be subdued?”

The Dragon’s eyes narrowed into slits. “One would be surprised that power, no matter how great, has others that overshadow it. None are above. All have one that they may cower beneath or revere.”

All of the haughtiness in Hiei’s tone ebbed away and he frowned. Power that overshadowed. The “human realm demon” that he looked down on, the woman who wore shackles from her past, the maiden who spoke with soft words despite the scars she bore.

“Do you not feel the same?” the Dragon asked and Hiei looked down.

“If you go anywhere near her, it will be the last thing you do.”

Words spoken in a voice colder than ice, clipped and threatening with a promise lingering beneath the surface. Moonlight haloing him and in the flicker of green, gold appeared and the chill threatened to freeze Hiei from the inside out. He knew that with his speed he’d have an advantage but how great that advantage was, he was unsure.

The low growl rumbling deep in that human’s chest was animalistic, feral, primordial and Hiei unconsciously stepped back.

“I do.” Hiei said, noticing that he took a step back and moving back nowhere he stood, dismissing the Dragon’s questioning look. “Then the first summoner, did she —“

“She was not a summoner.”

“What?”

“She did not summon me to the mortal plane.”

There was a pause and Hiei couldn’t believe his ears. Though he doubted that the Dragon had reason to lie to him now of all times. And from the solemness in the entity’s tone, he couldn’t find a reason to think it would. “She came to me, to the Void, and to the Makai.”

Hiei swallowed thickly. He could remember his time in the Void, brief as it was, the thousands of eyes that lingered on him. Horrors unimaginable tearing at his sanity and trying to ward him from the path that he walked to the Dragon’s core. Venomous words spat in the voices of his friends, his family, his loved ones. He’d come from it fearing nothing and hearing everything that would have otherwise torn him to pieces. His anger burned bright and his enemies were to serve as its kindling.

For someone to walk into the Void willingly, they had to be brave if not foolish. He wondered which one the Dragon thought him of at the time. Slowly, the Dragon continued to explain and Hiei listened attentively. Whomever this woman was, she was a legend that none other knew of, and held the secret that he yearned for.

“This woman was born with reiki and thus, she existed not only within the Reikai but the Ningenkai,” the Dragon began. “While I was born of youki, existing not only in the Makai and the Meikai. She, who held no power in the realms that I claimed as my own, journeyed there to meet me.”

Hiei huffed and sneered at the thought. Only an idiot or a brazen soul would tread into another’s domain without heed. “For it to be your domain, you could have killed her for the insult.”

“Insult?” the Dragon echoed back, the puzzled and curious lilt to its voice left Hiei confused and his smug smile fell.

“You said that she claimed to know your mind,” Hiei reminded and the Dragon hummed in acknowledgement. “Did you not feel insulted?”

After a short pause, the Dragon closed its eyes. “No, I did not.”

Hiei squinted, his lips pressing together and curling downward at the corners. The more he learned of the Dragon, the less the entity seemed to make sense to him.

“I was relieved,” the Dragon said with a wistful sigh. “To know that one would attempt to know me as I was rather than what I am. Such relief is uncommon, for those who possess immeasurable power, do you not agree?”

The Dragon’s eyes opened and met Hiei’s own and the relief bellied the entity’s earlier annoyance, a softened melancholy darkening violet irises that were less piercing but beckoning. The tension melted from Hiei’s shoulders and his hands fell to his side.

“I do.”

“I trust you.”

Warm brown eyes met his own with a smile wavering beneath the strain that the one who possessed it harbored. Straining to keep up the weight overhead, Hiei was torn between a venomous quip and a scoff. How could he trust him with all that he’d done? Surely, he had to be kidding. And then at a glance, he saw it. The glow that outlined the length of his body as the weight was steadily lifted and he yelled.

“Now go!”

He told himself that the fool would regret it. That he would see the error in his ways for trusting him even if it was briefly. But for a moment, he felt warmth.

A flicker of hope.

That perhaps he would have the chance to right his wrong against one that meant him no harm.

“She knew many things of the Ningenkai and shared them with me,” the Dragon said and Hiei roused from his thoughts to look into its eyes. “I was disinterested, I found it idiotic…”

Hiei sighed. He felt the same once upon a time. That the Ningenkai was nothing more than a lesser realm for lesser beings but he’d been proven wrong time and time again by those who lived there and those who came from his home.

The Dragon sighed. “And yet, she told them to me time and time again. Concepts of family, of home, the inner workings and the beauty of life. For one that waded in blood and ferried souls, I found these things inconsequential.”

Waded in blood. Hiei curled his fingers into fists and if he thought hard enough, he could feel the warmth of blood in the creases of his palm. Crimson staining his fingertips and the crevices of his nails. The stink of iron and scents of the fallen clinging to his person and his blade, washed away by the rain, in a lake, or a stream, and at times in the shower with the scent of roses lingering nearby to offer him a hand.

“They couldn’t be taken with you into death,” Hiei muttered and the Dragon hummed its agreement.

Continuing on as if Hiei had said nothing, the Dragon said. “But for beings such as us who lived for eternity, she believed they meant something.”

“Us…” Hiei muttered, raising a brow as the Dragon looked at him evenly. “She was like you?”

“That she was.” The Dragon said simply, seeming pleased that Hiei had caught onto the word choice. “The Ningenkai and the Reikai were her domain and she bid me to enter them at my leisure. I found it idiotic. I could usurp power from her, slay her and take control of the four realms.”

A bitter tinge of irritation was heavy on Hiei’s tongue and he narrowed his eyes at the Dragon.

“And more than once, I proposed that possibility to her, but she seemed wholly unbothered. I believed it was because she thought of me not as a threat but then I realized.”

Although he was certain those words were hypothetical, he couldn’t help but think of the cowardice that it would take. Though she was a fool, she didn’t seem like a terrible person.

Since when did I start to think like this?

“It was because she felt for me.” The Dragon deduced, although it didn’t seem certain in its words either. “And she knew my mind enough to realize that I felt the same.”

“Thanks for coming, Hiei.”

He swore to kill whatever made that accursed sound but he hadn’t expected to come across them. His gaze flicked from the oaf to the ferry girl then finally the fox. He shrugged slightly and gave an apologetic smile as the ferry girl stepped closer.

“I knew we could count on you.”

Hearing the detective had been ensnared had been the crowning moment of his night but the implication from the fox, and the idea of what this might have meant for the detective haunted him.

He had to do something.

Though he couldn’t let them know that the thought crossed his mind. He wasn’t even sure where it had come from. All he could do in the moment was say that it was none of his business, that it wasn’t his concern, that he was tired of fighting for the Ningenkai.

But it had crossed his mind then.

What was he fighting for?

“And you rebelled,” Hiei said.

The Dragon sighed. “Still I rebelled. What else could I have done when I was steadily losing control? I turned her away, I rebuked her invitations, and yet she returned. Then I began to accept, I wreaked havoc in the Ningenkai, seduced the humans with my power only to devour them time and time again.”

The itch of the Sword of Darkness, the desire to enslave humanity and turn them into demons or mindless victims that would do his bidding. Hiei clenched his fist at the feeling and the lingering memory of the ill-fated plan. He never wanted to do something as cowardly as enlist the help of a human army. Not with all that he knew about them.

The Dragon continued uninhibited by the turmoil in Hiei’s chest. “Countless lives were lost and over time, I was unsure of why I was doing this, what would I gain from inciting her rage?”

Although the questions were posed, Hiei had a feeling that they weren’t directed toward him. He stayed silent as the Dragon seemed to consider the word and lost itself in thought before continuing.

“I didn’t know the answer until she came down with the wrath of her might and laid me to the Earth beneath her hand. She told me that I had gone too far, that I had taken too much, that I was out of control, that I was lost. In that voice that spoke the kindest of words, I heard the coldest of truths. And for the first time, I felt pain.”

“You’re not so tough.”

Hiei flinched at the words as he struggled to rise to his feet, using his sword to brace himself. A sharp pain shot up his leg as it was swept from beneath him and he clattered to the ground, suppressing a cry and gritting his teeth. Her feet stopped in front of him and he forced himself not to look up at her. He wouldn’t give her the satisfaction but his head felt heavy, and the world was spinning on its axis. Fresh pain shot through him as her foot came in contact with his stomach.

“Those are the words that you used at the beginning of this, wasn’t it?” She asked, voice even and soft as if she were speaking to a child. With every prod of her foot, pain ricocheted through him, stealing his breath and his abdomen ached almost as if it was threatening to cave in. “I wonder if you were trying to convince yourself or make up for your own self-doubt.”

Heat welled up in his chest and pooled in his palms as he pushed himself up despite the searing pain in his legs. Whether she knew it or not, she’d driven a knife into him and the one place that he was the most vulnerable.

His heart.

“So she offered me a choice to make up for all that I had done,” the Dragon’s voice was closer now and when Hiei returned his focus, he found himself staring down the Dragon’s nose. “Walk the world at her side though I could leave when I chose. Be bound to her, not by loyalty, and not by duty, but by purpose.”

Purpose.

Wasn’t that why he went to Mukuro’s side?

He lost his purpose and death was…

“For one as lost as me, to find purpose would be akin to finding stability, and thus I would be given peace.”

Hiei’s voice was hoarse and quiet, barely above a whisper, and drowned out by the crashing waves. “Did you choose to bind yourself to her?” he asked.

“Not immediately,” the Dragon answered. “I found the thought distasteful but as time went on, to make up for what I’d done, I remained at her side. Until one day, I asked her. What bonds are there in the Ningenkai? What ties these humans together and keeps their memories alive? And her answer to me was family.”

Hiei felt his heart seize and the Dragon’s eyes narrowed at him. Part of him felt this was a trap. He felt he needed to flee. But he was rooted to the spot and unable to move. His limbs refused to obey him and all he could do was stare into the eyes of the beast and listen as the flame inside of him burned brighter.

“Children bear the wills of their parents but grow into their own, they honor their memory and share their stories for generations. And parents raise their children with respect and dignity, and look to them as their own being rather than reflections of what they could have been.”

Shiori came to mind. The way that she looked at Kurama, despite knowing what he was, she always seemed proud of him. She loved and adored him and wanted the best for him. Her love was genuine and though Kurama was different from her, she never asked him to be anything but. It confused Hiei greatly when he met her but over time, he understood.

That was love.

“I was mesmerized by it. I was interested. And I wanted to know more,” the Dragon sighed longingly. “She saw my curiosity and took aim, asking me then if I would like to form a bond with her, as a family.”

The stirring beneath Hiei’s skin, the overwhelming burn of flames kindling and growing with every word, the inability to control his body. Memories arising and the Dragon’s patience, something felt off. Something felt right and wrong at the same time.

“That girl asked me if I would like to be—“

Hiei interjected. “— Her brother.”

The Dragon stared at him evenly and its lips curled back but this time he was sure, it was smiling.

“She bore the mark not on her skin as you do, but on her soul.”

Hiei’s heart skipped a beat and he forced himself to take a step back as the Dragon lifted its head and shifted backward, the shadows curling around its body within the water slowly began to consume it. Darkness ebbing over its claws and sprawling across the rock in spiderweb-like shadows, inching closer to Hiei’s feet as he was backed to the edge, waves crashing against the rock and water splattering against the back of his cloak and the heels of his boots.

“So that when the time came again, our bond would hold fast,” the Dragon said, amusement creeping into its words, and Hiei could feel that it was smiling. “And I could be her brother once more.”

His eyes widened as the Dragon’s massive form receded and the spider-like shadows began to build onto one another, bubbling and shifting, rising slowly until they were at eye level with him.

“…. What are you?” Hiei breathed shakily, stiffening up as the shadows dispersed and the entity standing before him smiled.

A young man, violet-eyed with shoulder-length pitch black hair streaked with white in the center of his bangs, peach tanned skin marred with faded scars across his bare torso, and a swirling mass of burn marks in within black ink on his left arm, his lips pulled back in a toothy smile, the eye in the middle of his forehead opening and focusing on Hiei, narrowing and crinkling at the corners in delight at the look on his face.

“An immortal flame,” he said in a ghastly voice.

#yu yu hakusho #kurahi #kurama #hiei #fanfiction #my fanfiction

1 note · View note

ryukoishida · 7 years

Text

QZGS | The King’s Avatar Fic: In which fox spirit!WZ is captured by fox demon!YX. [Part IV]

Title: Beneath the Cherry Blossom Tree Fandom: The King’s Avatar / Quan Zhi Gao Shou Character(s)/Pairing(s): Yu/Huang (Wenzhou/Shaotian); Ye Xiu Summary: A nine-tailed snow fox spirit rescued a young boy who would become a swordsman sworn to protect the weak. Part: 4/5 Rating: NSFW A/N: Blame the cheesiness on the crappy Chinese romance novels I’ve been reading recently. Honestly no regrets though, y’all. Also maybe just a slight warning that YWZ is a little OOC at the beginning.

Writing Commission | Editing & Translation Services

Parts:

i. Encounter ii. Awakening iii. Confession iv. Survival v. Blossom

iv. Survival

Even after so many centuries, he could not escape.

His burning touches that left marks on him even after the scars had long disappeared, his false praises that had sounded so sweet when he was young and foolish — he thought he didn’t have a chance to escape back then, but every day he broke him into pieces and stole a fragment of him, every day he grew a little stronger and more immune until the beast could no longer be satiated just by feeding on his body or his vitality.

Until he decided he must own Yu Wenzhou’s body — his body and his soul.

“Do you like this new shell of mine, Wenzhou? Of course, it will never be quite as perfect as yours, especially after centuries of such diligent refining,” the male’s complacent tone was horrifyingly familiar, and Yu Wenzhou hated that it still sent trills of dread down his spine.

“Ye Xiu…” the fox spirit growled from the back of his throat, the syllables drenched in poison from years of disdain, “when will you learn to give up?”

Frivolous chuckles echoed around him in this strange space — a realm that was not quite reality, a creation of the demon’s own twisted mind — but it was tangible enough that Yu Wenzhou’s heart, usually still as water and pure as snow, was trembling in unease.

His eyes were squeezed tightly close, and he tried to settle his internal state so that he could figure a way out of this, but Ye Xiu’s voice was like poison, like vines with thorns as it wrapped itself tightly around Yu Wenzhou’s core, injecting venom with every word he whispered.

“I thought you should know me better than that,” the beast named Ye Xiu murmured in amusement, his voice suddenly right by the fox spirit’s ear, his breaths cold as death, “I do not know the meaning of giving up. Some would see it as a virtue, you know.”

A hand wrapped around the side of Yu Wenzhou’s neck, a thumb pressing threateningly against his throat and causing Yu Wenzhou’s breath to hitch; he dug his other hand into his thick, long hair, pulled his head to the side to reveal his snow-kissed skin, and leaned down to touch his lips against his pulse point before opening his mouth and pressed his teeth into the supple skin, drawing pearls of blood that he languidly licked clean.

Ye Xiu moaned softly at the flavor and the vitality that immediately enter his bloodstream as soon as he swallowed.

Yu Wenzhou whimpered at the slight pain, his eyes widening at the sensation, irises black as the night sky.

“You taste as good as I remember,” Ye Xiu said as he leaned back on his heels with a smile, the corner of his lips tainted red from Yu Wenzhou’s blood, “no, so much better — sweeter.”

The gesture was meant to be a possessive one, and even in this silence he could tell Ye Xiu was enjoying this little game he’d set up.

Now that Ye Xiu had sat down properly across from him, Yu Wenzhou could observe the fox demon more clearly: his eyes were red as rubies, skin pale to the point of being almost transparent, his lips thin and tucked into a constant conniving smile, ink-black hair swept over his shoulder and loosely tied up, and his frame was shimmering with freshly consumed vitality that was spreading over his entire body.

Despite the different body he’d seemed to take over this time, he was still the same Ye Xiu; he still possessed the same ambition and greed to take control over the fox clan, to rule them as he pleased, and when even that couldn’t satisfy his hunger anymore, he’d turn his fangs to the mortals.

“Why did you kidnap all those mortal children? You need not to go through such lengths to regain your powers,” Yu Wenzhou was trying to distract Ye Xiu. If he managed to redirect his attention, perhaps an opportunity would present itself.

“Do you not get it still? All of that was merely a dramatic act to get your attention,” Ye Xiu explained as if the fox spirit was a little slow, “and it worked, did it not? Since when did you start caring about human affairs, hmm? Ah, it must have something to do with that little human pet you keep by your side for the last few years. What is his name again?”

Ye Xiu’s blood-red irises stared directly into Yu Wenzhou’s dark orbs, his smile growing wide and dangerous.

“Leave him out of this,” Yu Wenzhou said, tone icy and sharp, “this is between you and me.”

“Oh, now this is interesting,” Ye Xiu laughed at the fox spirit’s unexpected reaction, bringing a sleeve over the lower half of his face that hardly muffled the sound. “Can it be that you have started to genuinely care for your pet, Wenzhou? You know that is not the way of the foxes.”

“Neither is whatever you have been up to, I am certain,” Yu Wenzhou murmured bitingly, violet irises glaring at the demon with unabashed defiance.

“Is there something different about this child of man, I wonder?” Ye Xiu tapped his lower lip with his index finger in mock wistfulness. “Something that would thaw the frozen, callous heart of even the proudest fox spirit of our generation?”

Yu Wenzhou pointedly ignored Ye Xiu’s question. He didn’t want to play into his hands, and to be honest, the question itself and the underlying implication of the validity of those words threw him off momentarily, for hadn’t he ask himself that very same question soon after Huang Shaotian — warm, golden eyes filled with nothing but affection for him — whispered those confusing, wonderful words into the fictitious spring breeze?

‘Love’ had always been such a vague, puzzling concept to Yu Wenzhou, not that he spent much time considering the foreign notion in the first place; from what he’d observed in the human world, love only brought on misery and betrayal, a weakness that any demon could take advantage of. Yu Wenzhou would never allow himself to fall that low, to give others that kind of fault to hold over his head.

Yet even as Ye Xiu loomed over him once more, his lips pulling into a cryptic smile that had Yu Wenzhou shuddering uncontrollably and his hands gathering into fists resting in his lap, the image of the young and idealistic Huang Shaotian couldn’t be shaken from the crevasses of his mind.

This was exactly what he was afraid of. It was a mistake right from the moment he’d decided to keep the boy under his protection, but he felt no regret for the choice he’d made over a decade ago, only a hint of bitterness stuck at the back of his throat when the thought of not being able to say a last farewell to him invaded his heart.

“What do you really want from me?” Yu Wenzhou asked instead. It wasn’t as if Ye Xiu was actually expecting him to answer properly.

Ye Xiu let out a lighthearted chuckle.

“You know what I want, Wenzhou,” Ye Xiu kneeled down and hooked a finger under Yu Wenzhou’s chin, forcing the other man to lift his head until they could see each other at eye-level. When he spoke next, frost seeped out from between his lips and scattered against Yu Wenzhou’s cheek, “My desire has always been simple; it has never changed throughout the years, though sadly it seems that you have gladly left me behind. I am wounded, truly.”

Yu Wenzhou spitted out a cold laugh, wanting to reach forward and grab Ye Xiu by the neck but realizing belatedly that he’d been rendered immobile by an invisible force. He was frozen like an ice sculpture; Yu Wenzhou knew this was nothing but an illusionary spell casted by Ye Xiu, and with his training, he should be able to break free of this spell if only his heart would stop skipping all over the place in a panicked state and wondering about Huang Shaotian’s whereabouts at this moment.

“If you willingly give yourself to me, you will not experience any agony at all during the process, this I can assure you,” Ye Xiu grinned, his red eyes making promises that Yu Wenzhou was afraid to believe in — refuse to believe in. “Together, we will be able to achieve great feats even our clansmen and ancestors could not have imagined or hoped to do.”

“And what of Huang Shaotian?” Yu Wenzhou’s jaw tightened, the syllables barely making past his lips.

He couldn’t twist away when Ye Xiu leaned in to kiss him lightly on his cheek, gentle but with a knife’s edge that, should Ye Xiu desire, could slice Yu Wenzhou’s throat on the spot and he’d never have seen it coming.

Ye Xiu smelled of decay and flames — of the rotten past he longed to forget and the impending future that seemed to be the only path waiting for him.

“You are hoping that I would spare his life, am I correct?” Ye Xiu murmured, lips burning hot against the shell of his ear, and then he chuckled again, the sound eerily wicked. “This new, softer side of you, I really need some time to get used to.”

“He is not a threat — not to you — so why waste your time on him?”

“But he would make for additional valuable ingredient for my refinery training, or at least that is what I have gathered from the rumors that have been floating around,” Ye Xiu said as he maneuvered himself so that he was directly facing Yu Wenzhou again. There was a pleasant, kind curve to his smile when he spoke next, “The little ones said that he smells heavenly, but I am certain he cannot be comparable to you. Nevertheless, I can always use some first-rate quality nourishment. I could make you feel better and lie to you, but then what would be the fun in that?”

He brushed the pad of his thumb roughly against Yu Wenzhou’s lower lip until the pressure painted it a tempting rosy red; Ye Xiu’s eyes darkened at the alluring sight, inky lashes trembling as he leaned in a degree closer, “I like breaking you down little by little like this; I like seeing you cry, the way your eyes turn pink and bloodshot from desperation, the helpless little whimpers that you let out — it makes my heart race just so. It will be just like good old times again, Wenzhou, do you not remember? Do you not miss those moments?”

It was then that Ye Xiu made his move and covered Yu Wenzhou’s mouth with his own in an aggressive and controlling kiss; his tongue, too hot and too rough, broke through the seam of Yu Wenzhou’s lips to dictate the flow and pace of their motions.

Trapped in all senses — within Ye Xiu’s illusion, Ye Xiu’s body, his own fogged, unnerved mind — Yu Wenzhou could do nothing but allow the fox demon to have his way with him. He discerned the metallic tang of blood in his mouth, and he wondered faintly if it was simply what Ye Xiu tasted like or if the demon had bitten him hard enough to draw blood. Soon, his ravished lips were numbed and oversensitive from Ye Xiu’s relentless kisses, the gesture more of a display of dominance than affection.

But Ye Xiu was just getting started.

With a firm, steady hand, the demon tore the thin garment off of Yu Wenzhou’s slender shoulders, revealing creamy skin that was showing hints of pink where Ye Xiu’s long and elegant fingers touched and scratched ruthlessly, leaving behind red welts and bloody lines, seemingly random. Yet Yu Wenzhou could gradually feel a sickening gravitational pull that started from where Ye Xiu’s palm was pressed against him, the center of his body just above his navel — the core of vitality that fueled him for years and years, refined and purified until it was polished into an almost perfect glow. The particles vibrated and hummed furiously inside of him, resisting the vicious pull as it rose and fell like the moon calling for the tide of the sea.

Yu Wenzhou forced his eyes to snap close in deep concentration, clearing his mind and heart so that he could put up a proper defense up against Ye Xiu’s invasion.

The demon’s hand was burning a hole through his skin as if he wanted nothing more than to claw out Yu Wenzhou’s insides and claimed it as his own, to combine them into one entity; the pulse of his core skittered, his mind and heart calling out the name of a man who was far from his reach.

‘Huang Shaotian…’

‘How pathetic,’ Yu Wenzhou thought, his mouth twisting into a self-depreciating smile at the image of the mortal boy who had somehow sneaked his way into his heart, captured him with his bright, hopeful eyes, and even brighter laughter, the sound like long-forgotten summer sunlight scattering through the lush foliage of a forest, ‘for a great nine-tailed snow fox such as myself to be conquered so easily simply because I wanted to protect you, a mere mortal.’

But that wasn’t right either.

There was no trace of bitterness or regret or resentment in him, only a kind of muted melancholy that he would no longer have the power to keep his promise he’d made to Huang Shaotian ten years ago. To respond to Huang Shaotian’s confession with his own revelation.

“Why do you push me away, Wenzhou?” Ye Xiu murmured against Yu Wenzhou’s lips, “your heart has been tainted by that mortal but once we merge as one, the stain will be purged and you will be pure and beautiful once again as you were before.” His mouth hot and forceful, his words even more so, and he swallowed Yu Wenzhou’s every exhale and the stream of essence, like silver starlight, that burned its way up from his core, through his lungs and capillaries, up his trachea and finally sucked in hungrily by the fox demon.

The ice armor around his core was melting, crumbling, succumbing to Ye Xiu’s assault. His consciousness, too, was slipping away, and the more Ye Xiu took from him, the more tempting it became to just surrender himself completely.

Just as Ye Xiu could feel himself almost breaking down Yu Wenzhou’s defenses absolutely, a flash of cobalt light — the deadly whistle of a blade — slashed through the darkness of their illusory world, igniting it momentarily with a blinding glow.

“Let go, demon!”

The next second, Ye Xiu had already dragged the languid body of Yu Wenzhou and skipped a few steps back to avoid an oncoming attack.

The demon narrowed his eyes, the red in his irises an eerie glow in the dark as he glared at the intruder, a young man with amber eyes and a heart that knew no fear and held too much love, one hand clutching onto a sword that gleamed dull blue.

“So, you are the famed Huang Shaotian that Wenzhou has taken a liking to recently?” Ye Xiu sneered, his arm wrapping tighter around the weakened Yu Wenzhou as he nuzzled his nose against the fox spirit’s neck. He watched in amusement as Huang Shaotian’s eyes grew wide at the sight, his entire frame shaking in frustration. “For you to be able to break through the boundary between reality and fantasy to get into my illusion, it seems like I cannot underestimate your abilities after all.”

Ye Xiu’s gaze strayed upwards where the dome was gradually disintegrating particle by particle, obsidian melting away into the azure blue of the sky outside.

“Let go of him! Do you hear me?” Huang Shaotian snapped, taking a step forward, “I say let go of him this damn instant, you bastard!”

With his sword tip aiming for the demon’s throat, Huang Shaotian dashed towards Ye Xiu without any plans or intention to protect himself; all that occupied his mind and drove his instinct was to take Yu Wenzhou back and away from this monster.

“What if I do not want to?” Ye Xiu smirked, letting go of the half-conscious Yu Wenzhou who wobbled like a doll before he crumpled to the ground, and with a wave of his hand, an iron cage materialized from thin air to confine the fox spirit. He continued while easily blocking Huang Shaotian’s attacks with his bare hands, his elegant fingers drawing shapes and lines in the air to create a barrier around himself, “Have you asked Wenzhou what he wants? What if he wants to stay here? What if he wants to stay with me?”

Huang Shaotian exhaled heavily, “Like hell he’d want to stay in this depressing-looking shithole!”

“Such vulgar language,” Ye Xiu remarked, “I do not understand why Wenzhou would tolerate someone like you.”

“Then maybe you don’t understand him as well as you think you do,” Huang Shaotian smirked at the instant reaction his taunt seemed to have ignited in Ye Xiu, who’d fallen silent. He seized the opportunity and announced, “I don’t know what the fuck you’ve done to him but you know what, it doesn’t even matter now because I am going to slay you and your minions with my Ice Rain!”

“Big words for a mortal child,” Ye Xiu seemed to take Huang Shaotian more seriously now, for there was no trace of teasing on his pale face, just the raw light in his eyes and the roiling energy that sprinted throughout his system, making his body glow faintly. He started for the swordsman, one step after another, and then broke into a run like an arrow targeting his victim — no room for error, no time for second thoughts.

“That’s right, that’s right, come on come at me already…” Huang Shaotian’s grip on Ice Rain’s hilt tightened and his limbs winded up to get ready as Ye Xiu came closer, and suddenly the fox demon was directly in front of him, fangs bared, blood-thirsty eyes boring into his, and claws raised high for a strike.

Huang Shaotian twisted away from Ye Xiu’s arms at the last second, his motion fluid and rapid as a feline’s, but Ye Xiu was faster, his body quickly adjusting to the swordsman’s movements and he was able to latch onto Huang Shaotian’s sleeves, slowing him down just enough to shift closer to the man once more, this time not allowing him to slip away.

“Do not test my patience, child of man,” Ye Xiu growled with a wide grin and a crazed look in his eyes as he reached for Huang Shaotian’s throat, talons gleaming, “Yu Wenzhou belongs to me and me only; nobody is allowed to take him away from me again!”

“Think again, asshole!” Huang Shaotian shouted, swinging his sword in a wide, horizontal arc, the tip barely grazing Ye Xiu’s garment across the demon’s chest, but Ye Xiu’s contact with Ice Rain’s blade washed with herb-of-grace was enough to burn his physical body, and he rolled onto the ground, hissing in pain as smoke and stench of burning flesh coiled from the incision that Huang Shaotian made.

Taking advantage of Ye Xiu’s respite, the swordsman easily cut through the cage that was imprisoning Yu Wenzhou. The fox spirit looked up dazedly at his savior as the metal bars disintegrated around him, eyes half-lidded and amethyst irises clouded with confusion and exhaustion.

“Shao…tian…” he murmured, blinking heavily and snow locks falling limply into his eyes as he tried to reach for him.

“Come on, great lord snow fox, let’s get you out of here,” Huang Shaotian gave him a small, relieved smile before hauling him up with one arm. It wasn’t easy to walk with a sagging Yu Wenzhou weighting him down on one side, but Huang Shaotian was solely driven by adrenaline and the goal of dragging them both out of this hellhole now, and this gave him a surge of fire and energy he didn’t even realize he possessed.

“Not. So. Fast.” Ye Xiu uttered each word with pure loath as he stood straight once more.

“Yu Wenzhou, this might burn a little but don’t let go, all right?” Huang Shaotian whispered.

Yu Wenzhou gave a weak affirmation as he leaned closer against Huang Shaotian’s warm and solid body.

If they were not in immediate danger, then maybe Huang Shaotian would have been able to enjoy this side of the usually proud and aloof fox spirit a bit more.

“I’m warning you now, bastard, you better leave us alone or you’re going to regret this,” Huang Shaotian warned, backing away slowly with Yu Wenzhou in tow, Ice Rain held defensively before him.

“You have been amusing, but now you are in my way,” Ye Xiu began to come for them again, this time with much less restraint than before.

The charm on the back of Huang Shaotian’s hands began to glow silver-blue as he silently muttered the defensive spell under his breath; ten years ago, he’d accidentally activated the spell, but today, with Yu Wenzhou’s essence running through him, becoming part of him as he grew, his powers and control had increased exponentially over the years.

The light on his defensive charm mirrored the purifying glow of Ice Rain, and together they created the ultimate shield, the pinpricks of radiance tearing the darkness of Ye Xiu’s world apart, shattering it and its creator into fragments.

“I will come for you again, Wenzhou…” Ye Xiu’s ominous promise echoed around them like a whirlwind before it, too, dissipated and scattered into the wind.

“Yu Wenzhou, are you all right? Yu Wen— oh blessed be the earth and heavens what the actual fuck happened to you?”

Huang Shaotian froze in his tracks, his eyes widening frightfully at the sight before him: a giant fox covered in thick white pelt and nine long tails swaying agitatedly behind stood in place of Yu Wenzhou, his snout long and his eyes the same icy violet as his humanoid form, supported by graceful limbs that could run hard and fast in snowy and mountainous terrains. The swordsman blinked once and then laughed, his voice a little tight and frantic, “Wait, that was a terribly stupid and insensitive question, I’m sorry. You are a snow fox spirit, of course your true form would be a gigantic nine-tailed fox.”

He wished he had more time to admire the majestic form of the snow fox, but time was of the essence right now. Ye Xiu must have stolen much of Yu Wenzhou’s vitality, for every step the fox attempted to take was unsteady, the footprints on the snow dragging shallow tracks.

Despite Huang Shaotian’s effort to tug the half-conscious beast along the snow trail, they didn’t progress far since Yu Wenzhou was almost five times the size and weight of a normal fox’s; he easily towered over the swordsman and casted a shadow that blocked the sunlight above their heads.

“Uh…where should we head to? And who the hell was that asshole anyway? Don’t answer me now, but I demand a full, detailed explanation after you get better, you got it? I don’t suppose you can tell me where to go or what to do to help you when you’re in this form, huh? Goddamnit!” the swordsman stomped on the ground as if that motion could help him brainstorm better ideas.

Huang Shaotian didn’t get much of a warning other than a whispered ‘hold on tight’ in his mind before he felt himself being lifted off the ground, Yu Wenzhou’s furry tail wrapped securely around his waist as he placed the swordsman on his muscled back. Before Huang Shaotian could complete one inhale, his fingers barely grasping onto the long, gorgeous white fur on the fox’s back, Yu Wenzhou was moving — or at least, he thought they were moving, except instead of going forward, Huang Shaotian only felt like his body and insides were being crushed from all directions and that his breaths were being knocked out of him by an invisible fist over and over again.

As soon as they stopped after what felt like a century, Huang Shaotian rolled off the fox’s back, toppled a few steps away, and threw up where Yu Wenzhou won’t be able to see this shameful and awful side of him. Behind him, Yu Wenzhou fell to the ground with a heavy thud as well, his chest heaving quick, shallow bursts of air in and out of his body, eyes slipped closed in agony as he felt the last trace of his power disappearing completely from this vitality-consuming act.

Thankfully, there was a clean spring further in the cave they’d arrived in, so without letting his attention wander too much, he quickly rinsed his mouth to rid of the sour and disgusting taste. Since he’d been trained as a constable for years, once his stomach settled back down, his vigilance over his surroundings returned just as swiftly. The cave was small but not to the point of feeling claustrophobic, for just outside the entrance were rows of cherry blossom trees that had only just began to bud. The climate was still too cold for flowers to bloom, but in a month or so, the scenery would drastically transform from where they stood.

“Yu Wenzhou,” the swordsman climbed back to his shaky feet and turned to him with murderous eyes, “please give me a goddamn warning next time you want to play with teleportation! I thought I was going to die of a heart failure or something!”

When Yu Wenzhou didn’t reply with a snarky remark like he tended to do when Huang Shaotian got overdramatic like this, the swordsman quickly jogged to stand before the fox’s head; he reached up and only hesitated for half a second before he laid his hand on Yu Wenzhou’s fur and patted him on the snout, hoping the gesture would at least be soothing for the fox spirit, if nothing else.

“Hey, Yu Wenzhou, wake up,” Huang Shaotian whispered urgently, leaning in closer so that his breaths brushed and rustled the fox’s fur. “Don’t fall asleep on me, oy! Tell me what to do. Tell me what I need to do to make you feel better, okay? I can’t fucking help you if you don’t talk to me, come on! Please…Yu Wenzhou…” his voice broke by the end as his demands became pleas. Still, the fox remained motionless.

“Wenzhou…” he allowed himself to murmur the fox spirit’s name like it was something sacred, something precious. His eyes were burning with unshed tears, but he won’t let himself be weak. Yu Wenzhou didn’t need a weak human being by his side.

‘Huang Shaotian, come closer.’

“H-How the hell are you doing that!?” he yelped, leaning back to take a better look at the beast.

Yu Wenzhou himself wasn’t stirring, nor was his mouth moving, but Huang Shaotian could clearly hear the fox spirit’s voice as if Yu Wenzhou was standing right there beside him.

‘Do you really think this is the best time?’

Huang Shaotian could picture the eye-narrowing that accompanied with that similar tone.

“Right, right! Sorry!”

Yu Wenzhou’s eyes flickered, long lashes trembling, and with some difficulty, he was able to open his clouded eyes and stared at Huang Shaotian. There was no shield, no enigma, no pretense; he was in pain and this was the weakest state he’d ever been in, and he was willing to share this part of himself with him.

Maybe he didn’t have a choice.

Or maybe he wanted him there.

Huang Shaotian tried not to overthink the situation too much.

‘Will you do me this one favor?’

“I can’t believe you’re asking me this,” Huang Shaotian rolled his eyes, “Of course I will! If you think I’ll leave you here to die without trying to do all I can to help you, you’d be wrong.”

‘You are angry,’ Yu Wenzhou discerned, his eyes conveying a hint of puzzlement. ‘You do not owe me anything, so I cannot expect you to shoulder a hazardous act on my behalf. Such assumptions would be thoughtless and discourteous. I do not wish to impel that upon you.”

Huang Shaotian blinked; he had not expected the high-and-mighty fox spirit to have considered so much beforehand. His lips lifted softly upwards into a small smile, his hand resuming the movement of stroking the fox’s snout, “My life is yours the moment you gave me a drop of your blood, Yu Wenzhou.” There was a sense of finality in the swordsman tone, an underlying promise to do all he could to save him.

Yu Wenzhou closed his eyes at Huang Shaotian’s gentle touch and replied, ‘After this, my life shall be yours as well. Please take good care of it.’

There was that unmistakable hint of humor in his otherwise calm voice, but Huang Shaotian’s heart was trembling nevertheless, yet for what reason, he couldn’t tell for certain.

“What do you mean by that?”

‘Ye Xiu had taken a significant amount of my vitality, and in protecting my core against his invasion, my internal rhythm and system have been disrupted. I will place my tainted core into your body, and in turn, your body, with its half-exorcist and half-celestial bloodline, will serve as a perfect vessel to restore, nourish, and purify my core vitality with the mutual exchange of our energy currents.’

“You will need to use human language to explain that one to me,” Huang Shaotian scratched the back of his head in utter confusion.

‘It is simpler to show you than to explain to you,’ Yu Wenzhou only said with a sigh, lifting his head a few inches off the ground and nuzzled against Huang Shaotian’s cheek like a giant, affectionate canine, causing the young man to giggle at the prickling sensation.

“Yu Wenzhou, what the hell are you— It’s tickly!” He tried to squirm away but he was caught by one of the fox’s tails around the waist. Yu Wenzhou first laid him down on the cave floor, which was surprisingly soft and dry — and it was then that Huang Shaotian realized his back was shielded by the fox spirit’s other tails — then he restricted the man’s movements by holding his limbs down in place by wrapping his tails around his wrists and ankles.

‘Do not move.’ It sounded like a command, but perhaps it was Yu Wenzhou’s way to beg him not to go, not to be afraid of him in this state.

‘Trust me.’

“You know I always do,” Huang Shaotian told him, amber eyes glowing bright in the darkened interior of the cave, but it wasn’t the usual carefree warmth that he exuded but one that was showing hints of uncertainty, as if he wasn’t quite sure whether he was still talking to the same Yu Wenzhou he’d known for the last decade.

As if he was trying to console the swordsman, Yu Wenzhou lowered his head and nuzzled his snout against Huang Shaotian’s neck, occasionally puffing out warm, moist air from his nostrils which caused Huang Shaotian to shudder, his jaw tightening from the strange proximity and sensation. The fox’s thick fur, in addition to his own agitated physical state, was making him sweat already, and the thick garment he donned was getting more and more uncomfortable by the second.

Yet as he forced himself to focus on the soothing rhythm of Yu Wenzhou’s breathing pattern, the bubbling spring that echoed in a pleasing melody, and the gentle breeze that rustled the branches of the trees outside the cave, Huang Shaotian eventually felt the warmth enfolding around him became less overwhelming and more comforting. His frame relaxed within the embrace of Yu Wenzhou’s tails and his eyes slipped close naturally; the stream of vitality that had been rushing through his system decelerated, the instinctual defenses he put up around himself gradually peeled away to reveal the rawest, most innate part of himself.

When he sensed Huang Shaotian’s heartbeat slowing down to a steady hum and his body opening up to him, Yu Wenzhou unhinged his jaws slightly, allowing his deteriorating core, which was nestled deep within his solar plexus, to travel upwards and out of his body until the sphere, the size of a large pearl, chipped and marred in black on the otherwise silver-lavender surface, remained suspended in the air between himself and Huang Shaotian, all the while his fur gleaming a soft sheen of silver frost.

Placing all trust on the man beneath him, Yu Wenzhou’s mind and heart dictated the core to move until it touched Huang Shaotian’s lips, the sweet, warm glow casting his face in a soft, milky light, highlighting his cheekbones and long, inky lashes. The mortal swallowed his core and accepted it as his own, his skin shimmering like the fox spirit’s fur for a moment as his inner body slowly became more accustomed to the foreign presence of another being’s vitality.

It didn’t take long for his internal system to settle and calm down, for it appeared that Huang Shaotian’s body had long been acclimatized to Yu Wenzhou due to the drop of blood he’d been infused with ten years ago.

When Huang Shaotian opened his eyes again, his body seemingly having just experienced an extensive battle that left the young man swelteringly hot, his heart racing, and skin gleaming with a thin layer of sweat, he saw that Yu Wenzhou had transformed back to his human form, though he noticed that his ankles were still bound by the fox spirit’s tails and a set of pointy, triangular ears were twitching atop his head among the mess of white hair. His hands were braced on both sides of the swordsman’s head and his legs were straddling around his hips, the usual thin silk robe that he donned was nowhere in sight so that his bare body and moonlight-kissed skin was on full display.

He blinked up at him a little dazed, a little excited, amber darkening to black-gold, as he reached up with a shaking arm and caressed the pale, delicate skin of Yu Wenzhou’s cheek with his knuckles. His skin was cold to the touch, but that wasn’t new; the molten violet in his eyes, however, was churning with an emotion that Huang Shaotian had never seen on the proud fox spirit before, and he didn’t dare put a name on it just yet.

“Now what, Yu Wenzhou?” Huang Shaotian whispered, the heat in his chest making speaking difficult and his cheeks were flushing for no good reason he could think of.

“Now we must exchange our energy currents,” Yu Wenzhou said in a tone like he was explaining some kind of boring medical procedure, “until my core is completely healed and returned to its previous state.”

“And how do we go about doing that?” Huang Shaotian asked, swallowing hard as he watched the fox spirit’s half-lidded eyes staring back at him contemplatively, almost like he wanted nothing more than to swallow the mortal man whole — not in a way that a hunter wanted to tear into its victim, but more like a jealous lover craving to consume all and make him his.

“Like this.”

Yu Wenzhou lowered himself until their noses were almost touching, then he leaned to the side slightly and placed a soft, hesitant kiss against Huang Shaotian’s blushing cheek, his lips barely touching the skin there but it was plenty enough to ignite the smoldering kindling that’d been planted inside Huang Shaotian’s heart a long time ago. With just one innocent kiss, Huang Shaotian’s self-made chains of constraint broke, and he chased after the fox spirit’s lips, capturing them with his eager mouth, tasting him for the first time, hearing Yu Wenzhou gasped in alarm that made Huang Shaotian’s heart skipped merrily until Yu Wenzhou sharply caught his wrists with one strong hand and pulled them above his head to limit his movements.

With his other hand, and with the assistance of his dexterous tails, Yu Wenzhou began to unknot the waistband that was keeping Huang Shaotian’s garment together and pulled layers of his clothing off with efficiency and grace all the while kissing the swordsman with a relentless enthusiasm as if the fox spirit wouldn’t be able to live if he were to accidentally let go of the swordsman.

In a manner of speaking, this was true.

As they bit each other lips savagely like beasts and while they exchanged their breaths in the midst of their kisses, hot and messy and heavy, the foreign and his own cores in Huang Shaotian’s body began to roil and burn, urging his system to push the stream of vitality out of his mouth and into Yu Wenzhou’s. In the same way, Yu Wenzhou hungrily accepted and swallowed down Huang Shaotian’s offer, the potent stream of heat exploded through his bloodstream, taking over his bones and muscles, converging and dividing, breaking and bonding, ridding the ashen contamination and replacing it with something brand new and breathtakingly beautiful.

His embrace tightened around Huang Shaotian, skin against skin, heart against heart — no escape. The fox spirit buried his head into the crook of the swordsman’s neck, sucking zealously at the succulent flesh and licking the patch of skin where the blood was pulsing so temptingly close to his fangs.

Huang Shaotian dragged his fingers through the fox spirit’s fine, snowy hair and pulling lightly, whimpering wetly, whenever Yu Wenzhou’s sharp fangs grazed teasingly against his sensitive skin.

He would be more embarrassed about the noises he was making if his mind weren’t still trying to process what was currently happening: Yu Wenzhou pressing passionate kisses against his lips, breathing just as hard and unsteady when Huang Shaotian experimentally scratched his blunt nails along his back, caressing his dripping length with his elegant fingers, touching him in places he’d only dreamed of deep into the night, and now…

“Haaah… Yu… Wenzhou?” Huang Shaotian felt the other man’s lips leaving his throat alone and his hands tracing and moving downward until they stopped at his thighs and hips.

When he looked down at the swordsman again, most of his face was hidden by the curtain of his long hair, but Huang Shaotian could never look away from those eyes.

“Forgive me, Shaotian,” Yu Wenzhou murmured, a hint of apology seeping into the deep rumble of his voice.

Before Huang Shaotian could comprehend his words, Yu Wenzhou entered inside him, and the fire residing within both bodies burst into millions of smaller flecks of stars that melted on their skin and absorbed into their being.

Huang Shaotian let out a quiet sob as the pain where they were connected spread further out, his body stiffening in a feeble attempt to reject the foreign and agonizing presence, and Yu Wenzhou could only console him with whispered apologies and gentle kisses on his cheek, on his eyelids, his ears, along his nose, and finally his mouth.

Every inch of their bare skin was in contact with each other’s wherever possible, and every brush and caress against their skin seemed to ignite sparks that initiated the transfer of energy currents between their bodies. Gradually, the heat of the currents numbed the pain to a manageable level, allowing Huang Shaotian to feel the pleasure to build up in the pit of his abdomen; he glanced up at Yu Wenzhou and noticed that his cheeks had become slightly pink; his chest as well, was painted a lovely shade of flushing rose. His tails had long let go of Huang Shaotian’s ankles and they were twitching and waving restlessly from the electrifying thrill.

The proud, majestic fox spirit with his cold, emotionless demeanor had melted away without a trace in this intimate moment; replacing the callous, commanding ruler was a simple man gripped with uncontrollable passion for a mortal he’d unknowingly fallen in love with and the desire to survive.

Yu Wenzhou came with a guttural growl against Huang Shaotian’s shoulder, branding him with his scent and teeth marks that would turn to violet bruises in a few hours’ time. A moment later, the fox spirit, who seemed to look a lot healthier from the flush of his skin and the lively gleam in his eyes, pulled himself out and was about to roll off of Huang Shaotian when he was abruptly stopped.

“I really, really hate it when you don’t give me warning about shit like this,” Huang Shaotian wrapped his arms around the fox spirit’s neck and pulled him down, his dark eyes glaring up at him with the same defiant light that Yu Wenzhou was familiar with since he was a child, but the unshed tears rolling along the brims of his bloodshot eyes made his reprimanding rather unconvincing.

“I apologize,” Yu Wenzhou’s lips twitched a little into a brief, amused smile and kissed him lightly on the lips. It wasn’t nearly enough to assuage him.

“Hmph, just you wait, Yu Wenzhou,” he turned to the side so the fox spirit wouldn’t be able to see the deep blush on his cheeks, “I will find your weakness one of these days and then you’ll be in trouble.”

“I can’t wait for that day to arrive,” Yu Wenzhou chuckled, the corner of his eyes crinkling though the violet in his irises had returned to its mirror calm.

A/N: Little did Shaotian know that they’ll be doing this a few more times after that, lol.

#quan zhi gao shou #qzgs #the king's avatar #tka #yuhuang #bowie's crappy writing

7 notes · View notes

libralita · 4 years

Text

Truths and Roses have Thorns About Them | Chapter 3

Beginning | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Summary: The Marchen Tavern draws in many strange characters from all across Angielle and beyond. While it may bring wonder and mystery to those who stop, it does make keeping staff members a challenge. However, Fella Treslyn is up to the task of being the Marchen’s new cook. But is really ready to deal with all the antics it has to offer?

Fella was about to tie her hair up when she heard a knock at her door. “It’s Parfait.” The soft voice said from behind it.

“Come in,” Fella said, parting her hair to one side. “Is everything alright, Miss Parfait?”

“Yes, I just wanted to ask you for a favor.”

“Of course.”

“Last night we found a girl on the streets. She seems to not have eaten much so would you mind making her something for breakfast?” Miss Parfait asked.

Fella finished tying her hair and stood up. “Yes, Miss Parfait.” She said, reaching for her cane. “Is the girl alright?”

“She should be, yes.” Miss Parfait said and Fella must have had a strange look on her face because she then asked, “Is there something you needed?”

“Are you…really a fairy?”

“I am.” No hesitation.

“And Miss Delora is a witch and this really is this place for the cursed?”

“Yes, it is.” Miss Parfait answered softly. “Did Karma tell you?” Fella nodded. “Don’t worry too much about it. I’ll explain more later on. Okay?”

Fella nodded again, this time more slowly. “Yes, ma’am. Have someone come down in forty-five minutes and I’ll have something prepared for this girl.”

“Of course, Fella.”

Fella decided on a beef stew. It wasn’t much of a breakfast item, but she couldn’t imagine that someone who was hungry would mind. She wanted this girl to have something hardy that would help get her back on her feet. She cubed the meat adding carrots, potatoes, onions. It helped to get rid of some excess food.

“Miss Fella, are you okay?”

Fella blinked. I must have let my mind wander. “Sorry. Also, who are you?”

“Oh, I’m Annice.” The sweet, girlish voice said. “Sorry, I’ll try to remember to announce who I am.”

“It still takes me a while to learn voices. But I am better with voices than faces.” Fella said as she grabbed a bowl and ladle.

Annice let out a soft laugh. At least someone laughed at her jokes.

“Do you know who this girl is?” Fella asked.

“I think Miss Delora said her name was Lucette,” Annice said and then said in a quieter voice. “I think she might even be a princess.”

“A princess?” Fella asked, trying to sound surprised. “I’ve never heard of her.”

“Neither have I,” Annice said as she took the bowl from Fella. There was a soft sound of a bowl on a tray. “Thank you. Miss Fella.”

“Annice, before you go, do you see Karma in the dining room?”

There was shuffling. “Yes, I see her. Would you like me to take you there before I give Lucette her food?”

“Thank you. And for your troubles, I think there are about three portions left. One for me, one for Miss Karma and one for you.”

“Wow, really? Thank you! I’ve wanted to try your food but I’m always working before you run out.” Annice said.

Hmmm… maybe Fella could start making food for the staff. It would be nice to get a better meal then whatever a magic spell can whip up.

Fella got two bowls of stew and was taken to Karma’s table. She was starting to figure out where Karma liked to sit. “Stew for breakfast?” Fella asked.

“You are too kind, Fella,” Karma said, though she sounded a little bit off today. Fella sat down with Karma. She wanted to pry into what was going on last night and if Karma knew the Swordsman. But while Miss Karma was nice, she was rather secretive.

“Another missed meal?”

“Hello Jurien, Garlan.” Miss Karma said, sounding smug that she got another meal.

“Grab a spoon.” Fella offered. “I am not so greedy as Miss Karma.”

“Oh, Fella why do you wound me so? Can’t a beautiful woman appreciate wonderful food?”

“Did you really have to add the word ‘beautiful’ to that?” Garlan asked.

Karma went on about how there’s nothing wrong with expressing how beautiful you are when the room suddenly fell very quiet.

“What is this place?” An unfamiliar young woman’s voice comes out. It was…rather cold.

“Welcome to the Marchen Tavern! A home for those with the Fairytale curse.” That was Miss Parfait’s voice. Miss Parfait banters with Delora for a moment as Fella turns her head towards the sounds of their voices. She wasn’t expecting to get information about the Marchen like this. Parfait then explained that the Marchen is there to help the cursed, only those who are cursed and allied with their cause are allowed to stay.

Allied to their cause? Fella suddenly felt like she being dragged into something she didn’t want much to do with. All she wanted to do was to cook and experience the world outside of her farm. She would never consider herself to be “evil or wicked” as Parfait put it. Fella tugged at Karma’s arm but the woman ignored her. Great.

“Um…excuse me, Princess.” Then came Annice’s voice. “Are you certain you don’t want your stew, it’s very good.”

“No.” The cold voice responded.

Fella knew she shouldn’t be offended that someone denied her cooking. She might of just not been hungry. Yet, while it probably wasn’t her finest work, it was still something she had put the time in.

“Oh come now, Lucette” Delora’s voice came. “Fella made it special for you.”

Yeah!

Lucette responded. “It does not look to be special if she is eating it.”

Fella knew she should try to defuse the situation and say something more lighthearted. However, this princess seemed to have a talent for getting under her skin. Fella crossed her arms. "Am I not allowed to have leftovers?"

“If something isn’t made specifically for me, then it cannot be considered special by definition,” Lucette said and then paused. “Wait…you’re that blind girl from the doll shop. What are you doing cooking?” It was hard to describe the tone of that question. It wasn’t out of concern, like someone who would take her as an invalid. It wasn’t confusion. It was just cold. Like she could barely muster the energy to care.

“Making friends already, Ice Princess,” Delora said in a sarcastic tone. "Ice Princess" was right.

She felt someone lean close to her, the smell of the perfume indicated that it was Karma. “Don’t look so sour, Fella.” Miss Karma’s warm breath tickled her ear.

“She’s the sour one,” Fella muttered and felt childish for saying it.

Several sets of feet came towards their table. “You’ve already met Fella but here is—”

“Jurien Valiente and Garlan Belrott.”

Lucette already knows Jurien and Garlan? However, it did not seem that either of the two knew Lucette.

“Annice, Jurien, Garlan, and Fella are not cursed, they are allowed in this tavern,” Parfait said. So…everyone else in the Tavern was cursed. More great news. “Jurien and Garlan lend us their strength to help protect the Marchen.”

Fella tried to process what this all meant when Parfait and Delora excused themselves. The room went silent and Fella felt a slight twinge of pity for Lucette. It seemed like she was left to fend for herself. If Fella was already annoyed at Lucette, she couldn’t imagine what other people who have actually remembered her were thinking.

“I was told it was rude to stare.”

Please don’t dig your own grave, Princess. There’s some shuffling that Fella can’t quite make out until “You know the rules.” Jurien’s voice. “What happened in the past stays in the past.”

“And no one is allowed to harm anyone else in the Marchen,” Garlan added. At least that was good to know. “If you cannot comply, you are no longer welcome here.”

“Tsk. No matter. The Ice Princess will get what’s coming to her.” It was a man’s voice she did not know. He must have stood up in anger so Jurien and Garlan stopped him from doing anything too rash.

“Break the rules and you’ll get what’s coming to you. That goes for everyone here.” Jurien’s response to the stranger.

After that, things began to settle down. The ice princess must have left to go somewhere else. “I will be back.” Miss Karam said. “Time to thaw the heart of the ice princess.”

“Good luck,” Fella said, flatly. “I’ll go figure out what I’m doing for dinner.” Fella went over to the kitchen.

She passed by Miss Karma and Princess Lucette’s conversation “Your name is Karma?”

“A suitable name for someone as beautiful as me, no?”

Fella stifled a snort as she walked into the kitchen. She tied her apron on and stood in the middle of the kitchen. She wasn’t sure what she was going to make today. Had meeting the Ice Princess really had that effect on her?

No. Fella wasn’t going to let some brat get her down. Time to go back to her roots. They had steak medallions. All she had to do was make it. Maybe it was time to experiment.

She went through the spices. Smelling, tasting, mixing. Maybe some herbs. When she went for a pan, some of them fell over, making a bit of noise. Fella quickly righted them and set one of the stoves to get ready for a test run.

While she was waiting for that she began to quickly chop up some sage.

“Wow! You’re so quick!”

“Ahh!” Fella was surprised when she heard the stranger's voice. So surprised that she felt a sharp pain in her finger. “Ahh! Gods above!” She hissed, holding her injured hand.

“Oh no!” The stranger’s voice said and soft feet came rushing over. “Are you hurt?”

Fella just hissed in response. “Emelaigne.” Another strange voice came. Fella felt around the countertop and found a rag. She wrapped a finger around it and applied pressure to it.

She heard the sound of running water. “Come here.” The girl—Emelaigne—said pulling her towards the sink. Fella moved on her own to it and tried to clean it.

“What’s going on?” It was Parfait’s voice.

Fella tried to smile. “I swear, I am not usually this clumsy, Miss Parfait.” She said.

“Emelaigne, Rod, why don’t you two go into the sitting room while I—”

“I can take care of it.” Fella insisted. “This isn’t my first cut and it won’t be my last.” She said. After a little persuading, she was finally left alone. Though Parfait did graciously leave her with antiseptics and bandages. Her eyes watered when she cleaned her cut. From what she could tell it wasn’t that big. Then she bandaged it up.

Fella sniffed. Just another cut.

Many people said she looked like a porcelain doll. She remembered a time where she had asked one of her sisters, Eliyanna, why they said that. Eliyanna named her smooth skin, her red lips, her cute curls, her small stature. However, if one looked closely at her arms and her legs they would see small scars. Tiny cracks in that doll.

But Fella loved those scars. It told the world that she wasn’t some doll to be put on a shelf. To sit there and listen in the darkness. She could run and jump and fall all she wanted. Or cut herself by accident.

Emelaigne…and Rod? Those were the names of the prince and princess. Fella remembered her conversation with Karma last night. She had listed Lucette being the crown princess, hadn’t she? So maybe Lucette was the king’s biological daughter. And if the royal family is not cursed then that means…they all forgot her.

Fella shuddered at that idea. She couldn’t imagine what it would have been like to wake up one morning and no one remembering who you were. What if her parents didn’t know who she was? Her brothers and sisters? Dion?

Alright, she would promise herself that she would give the princess another chance…maybe.

Fella was getting better at guessing how many patrons would be attending the Marchen’s dinner so she actually had some spare food. Lucette and Annice had been serving and from what Fella could hear, Lucette had struggled a little.

So, Fella put on three of the leftover medallions. She seasoned it with a variety of spices: salt, pepper, paprika, garlic powder, and even light brown sugar. When she placed the foot in the pan it made a satisfying sizzling sound. Fella seared them all on sides and would occasionally poke it to see if the temperature was right. She cooked them to medium-rare. That’s what people usually wanted. She gave Annice extra carrots and peas because the girl seemed to like those. She couldn’t think of adding anything to Lucette’s dish. She didn’t really know what the girl liked but hopefully, Fella would learn over time.

Fella was about to ask someone for help when Annice came hurrying over, worrying that they’d forgotten someone. Fella happily gave her the food and asked to be brought to Lucette. Lucette sat in a table that Fella wasn’t aware of. It was in a corner, alone.

“What’s this?” She asked in her cold, dismissive tone.

“Dinner,” Fella said simply, setting down the plate. “I had some leftovers so I thought I would give it to you, Annice, and myself.”

There some silence before she heard the plate be scooted across the table.

Fella stood there, she knew she wasn’t going to get a thank you or anything. She wondered if she should ask Lucette to join her in finding Karma, Jurien, and Garlan.

“What? Do you expect me to repay you?” An annoyed tone.

Repay me?

Fella shook her head. “I usually sit with Miss Karma, Miss Jurien, and Sir Garlan after work to eat my dinner. Would you like to join me, princess?”

“Why would I want to do that?”

Just smile. “Wouldn’t you enjoy a meal more with good company?”

“Are you implying that you are good company?”

Better than yours. “I have my moments, I can make jokes. You see?” Lucette was silent and Fella shook her head. “You’re supposed to say ‘see what?’ And then I say ‘everything but I don’t.’” Lucette remained silent for a long time and then Fella heard the clinking of silverware on the plate. “My food is getting cold, princess. So perhaps next time.” Fella turned without waiting for a response and went off.

At least she tried.

“Lady Parfait!”

Fella was startled awake when she heard Garlan’s voice. She listened and heard hurried voices, feet running around downstairs. She could also hear one or two other boarders shuffling out of their rooms.

Well, if others got to see what was going on, then surely she could too. Fella put on a coat over her nightgown and slipped on her boots. She took her cane and left. She went to the sitting room where she heard Lucette ask “What’s happening?”

Fella cautiously made her way over to also hear what was happening.

“Sorry, did we wake you two?” Jurien’s voice.

“No, but the noises Garlan was making would have woken the dead.” Fella snorted at Lucette’s comment. She wasn’t going to make Garlan feel bad for waking her up but that was an amusing comment.

“What?” Lucette’s voice asked and it took a moment to realize she was talking to her. Fella had snorted at her comment. It was funny!

“Nothing,” Fella grumbled.

Garlan cleared his throat and said. “Jurien and I found an injured man while we were doing our rounds. We brought him here.”

“An injured man…? Wait, what were you doing outside? It’s almost one in the morning.” Lucette focused back on what was happening.

Jurien dismissed Lucette’s questions while a boyish voice spoke up. It might have been Waltz? She had heard he had the Neverland Curse. “Lady Parfait and Annice are tending to the man now.”

There was a brief talk about witches before Jurien, Garlan and Waltz left. Fella was left alone with the ice princess. Try, try again, Fella. “Miss Parfait, had said that they used Jurien and Garlan’s strength, right?” Fella asked.

“Yeah?”

“And you said that they were former knights so perhaps they guard the Marchen from the wicked witches.” She said.

“Why are you talking to me about this?”

“You had asked them about it but they dismissed your question,” Fella said. “This makes logical sense.”

“Okay?” Lucette said but it was more of a question. Fella heard shuffling. “I’m going to bed.”

“W-wait!” Fella said. What am I doing?

Lucette stopped and it was silent. Quietly, Fella said, “a few nights ago I was saved by a man with a sword. I think…I think he might have saved you the other night as well. I am pretty sure it wasn’t Garlan. But…do you know who he was?”

“No, I don’t,” Lucette said. Fella couldn’t tell if Lucette was lying or not. Her tone of voice sounded the same.

And then Fella was alone. “Goodnight, then.” She said to herself and then went to bed.

There was a knock at the entrance to the kitchen as Fella was making a meal for the injured man. This time she wanted to more of a soup. “Fella?”

“Yes, Miss Delora?”

“Miss Parfait and I will be busy helping the injured man but we wanted to talk to you about getting a menu. And perhaps having a cooking assistant. Annice has said that she could do that.”

Fella paused what she was doing to turn towards Delora. “Really?”

“It will be a small one but you have demonstrated that you are more than capable of handling it.” Miss Delora said.

“Thank you! I’ll start thinking about it as soon as possible!” She said and Miss Delora said her goodbyes.

Fella was practically flying through making her soup when she was brought back to earth by an irritable. “Are you done, yet?”

The ice princess. Fella tasted her soup and then once she deemed it good enough she gave the bowl to Lucette.

Don’t let her fowl mood get you down! Fella thought, cleaning up. It was time to start coming up with a menu! She’d need to find Annice.

It took time to figure out what to put on her menu. She wanted to create unique items without requiring too much prep time and allowed to her multitask as she cooked. Annice seemed to have a decent knowledge of cooking. It took some encouragement to make her give out suggestions. She was a bit of a timid girl. If Annice was going to be her assistant, she didn’t want to be a tyrant cook.

Fella and Annice decided on the salmon dish she made the first night. People apparently were still talking about it. They also seemed to enjoy the chicken dish so that was on there too. The steak with fries. Finally, meatballs. Her family loved making meatballs for gatherings.

“How is the injured man?” Fella asked as they were starting to wrap up who would do what with each dish.

“I am a bit worried about him,” Annice said, while there was soft scratching of pen on paper. “Lady Parfait is having him work as a server. But he suffered head injuries.”

“Was he cursed?”

“I think so,” Annice said. “He—”

“Rumpel! You aren’t here to flirt!”

Delora’s voice traveled through the dining room and Fella snorted. Was that the new boarder? Fella couldn’t make exactly what was said but she did hear Delora call Miss Karma a waste of space. Fella covered her mouth. That was a little mean but even after being here a few days, Fella wasn’t entirely sure what Karma brought to the Marchen.

There was a back and forth that Fella couldn’t make out. “What’s going on?” Fella asked Annice quietly.

“It looks like Miss Karma has arrived and she’s meeting Rum—”

“My life before this moment has been a depressing monochrome. Now that you have entered my bleak existence I see everything in beautiful, blazing color. And nothing shines more brightly, more vividly, than you.”

Fella had to really try not to laugh out loud. Her body was shaking at hearing this as she leaned over the counter. While Fella considered Miss Karma to be a friend, she knew how highly Karma thought of her appearance. Now having a man that is willing to tell her how beautiful she is like this? Miss Karma must be head over—

“…your filthy hands off of me!”

Fella was even more shocked when she heard Karma shout that him and then there was a hard smack.

“I am going to make sure everything is okay!” Annice said, sounding concerned as she rushed out of the kitchen. Fella was still in a state of shock as she listened to Miss Karma chastise the man—Rumpel?

“Go on lass, give him a good beating! Like the one you gave to me!” She heard an unfamiliar voice. Was he talking about Karma and did this happen often?

“My queen, there is no need for violence.”

“What did you call me?”

Fella let out a laugh she hoped wasn’t heard too much.

She couldn’t make out the conversation until she heard: “But your voice, your face! Your breasts!” That certainly wasn’t going to win Miss Karma over. Or any woman. “Ow!”

“That’s what you’re focusing on? Pervert.” Delora’s voice and must have been what caused more pain to poor Rumpel.

Fella cleaned up the mess she had made trying to come up with a menu and then went out to see what was happening..

“What’s going on?” She asked quietly, trying not to smile too much.

She heard the voice she assumed to be Rumpel’s voice say, “I…I am undo—”

She heard shuffling and then someone took her hand. She yelped in surprise. “This establishment is truly outstanding to have such beautiful women in it.” Something was pressed to her hand, it was warm and soft. Had…had he kissed her hand? Fella’s entire face was ablaze. “Spices…were you the angel that prepared my brilliant breakfast?”

“…yes?” Fella had never heard her voice made that sound before. It somewhere between a squeak and a yelp. And her face still felt like it was going to melt off.

“Rumpel, refrain from killing our cook. We’re pretty sure she’s crazy enough to sta—” Delora cut herself off with a laugh. “Oh, Karma, I have never seen you make that face before.”

Fella wasn’t sure what face Miss Karma was making but she couldn’t be as embarrassed as Fella felt right now.

“I am merely complementing a beautiful young lady,” Rumpel said. “Surely I cannot be the first to tell you that your extraordinary cooking matches your beauty.”

Fella was absolutely flustered so fell back on the only thing she knew. “I mean who’s going to tell the blind girl she’s ugly?” Observations about her blindness.

“You’re…blind?”

The room went silent. She was pretty sure everyone was thinking the same thing. What an idiot. But Fella laughed at that.

“I cannot believe you didn’t even realize she was blind.” Fella was taken aback by how angry Miss Karma sounded.

Rumpel moved away, probably not wanting more injuries to add on. “Do not fault me for being oblivious. It only takes one look to fall madly, irretrievably in love.”

“Ah, so love has blinded you.” Fella said and Rumpel laughed.

“I guess you could say that.” He said still chuckling. “But Miss…?”

“Fella.”

“Miss Fella.” She was expecting him to say something poetic about her name but sounded more serious. “May I have a look at your—ow!”

“Don’t even think about it!” Miss Karma scolded, Fella felt a hand grab her forearm. “You are not going to look at her anything. Pervert.”

“You’re one to talk,” Rumpel said and he was starting to sound annoyed. But then his tone changed back to its usual flirtatious tone. “I think I must leave. My heart will need time to heal. It has been stepped on by too many…women.”

Miss Karma let out an annoyed sound and was practically dragging Fella away. It wasn’t until they were outside that Fella piped up. “Um…Miss Karma, where are we going?”

The other woman seemed to realize that she was going off in a random direction and stopped. She took a huffy breath. “That—that buffoon.”

Fella waved a hand in front of her face, in an attempt to cool it. Her cheeks were still very warm. “I am actually surprised you didn’t take a liking to him,” Fella said with a chuckle.

“Why on earth would I like such a man, Fella?”

“I thought you would like someone who thinks you are beautiful equally as much as you do,” Fella said, a little more teasing and then gently pulled her arm. “Can you let go of me?”

It seemed to Fella, Rumpel had really flustered Miss Karma for her to be so out of it. Miss Karma let go of Fella’s arm. “My apologies.” She said, sounding like she’s calmed down.

Fella was pretty sure they were in the back patio area, she poked her cane until she found the Tavern wall and then leaned against it. “What type does interest you?”

“Hmm?”

“A man. What type of man does interest you? If you do not like the flirtatious types then which do you fancy?”

“I just simply do not like when men flirt with any woman they lay their eyes on as if their feelings did not matter.” Miss Karma said. Was she avoiding the question? “He certainly was making you very uncomfortable. Your face was as red as my hair.”

Fella felt her face become hot again at the thought. She slid down so she was sitting on the ground covering her face with her hands. “You’re making me blush again!” She complained. “That was the first time a man kissed my hand.”

“Is this your first time being flirted with?” Miss Karma asked.

“Yes.” She said.

Miss Karma let out a laugh, “Oh, aren’t you so adorable.” She said in a teasing way. Miss Karma bent down and moved Fella’s hands away and tucked a couple of loose curls behind her ears. “Then I am sorry that your first experience was so crude.”

Fella did not think it was crude. He laughed along with her and was really poetic.

“Come now, stand up before you ruin your dress.” Miss Karma said. “I heard Delora and Parfait were giving you a menu, you have to prepare for that.”

#cinderella phenomenon #klaude almonte #Karma Cinderella Phenomenon

0 notes