#A little creepy to be honest. An odd way to bow out the series but as silly as it is the central point is never lost. Interestingly this

[gamerwoo]

Minghao: Little Talks

Characters: Minghao x female reader

Genre/warnings: non idol au, angst, a lot of mentions of death, stuff about grieving, implied suicide at the end

Word count: 2,870

Summary: Don’t listen to a word I say. The screams all sound the same. Though the truth may vary, this ship will carry our bodies safe to shore.

a/n: this was inspired by little talks by of monsters and men!!

Seventeen Song Series

“It was built in the 1800s,” Minghao had beamed as the two of you looked up at the house before you. “The inside has been updated but it still has that vintage feel. I’m telling you, it’s our house.”

Now you wished it wasn’t. You wished you never bought this old, creaky house because you now resided in it alone. What was once a warm home now was like a cold, dark space that didn’t even feel like it belonged to you. All because Minghao was no longer there to make it feel like a home. He went out to see his friends but he never came back. His car slid into a tree on a winter day, and died before he even got to the hospital. Everything was taken from you that day.

You had just gotten home from the funeral. It was back in China and you had flown there with his friends. You didn’t mind staying in a hotel room with Joshua because at least somebody could be there to comfort you. But now as you set your suitcase down in the foyer of your house, it set in just how alone you were. You could hear the house settle as the wind continued to blow wet leaves around outside, and that only reminded you of the day you got the call about Minghao. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes.

It was early afternoon, but you decided to go upstairs to bed anyway. The stairs creaked like they always did when you walked on them, and Minghao used to always tell you that it gave the house character so you never fixed it. Now, you didn’t like how the old sound echoed through the house. It creeped you out, like you were now living in a house that hadn’t been lived in for years.

As you were getting settled into bed, your phone vibrated from where you set it to charge on the nightstand. You reached over for it and saw that it was Junhui. Besides you and Minghao’s family, his best friend was taking it the hardest. The two boys had moved here together, and now that Minghao was gone, Jun felt alone like you did. He even stayed home in China just to be with his family for a while, hoping that would help him.

Jun: Are you home already?

You: Yeah

Jun: How do you feel?

You: Alone

Jun: :(

Jun: He’s always with you, _____. You’re never alone.

You knew he was trying to comfort you, but it made you want to cry. You just wanted to hold Minghao in your arms again. You wanted to feel his lips on your forehead and see the fond look in his eyes as he chuckled at whatever dumb thing you said or did that he always found endearing. You just wanted Minghao back, not any of that ‘he’s watching over you’ crap.

You set your phone down and laid down in bed, curling up on your side. But it felt too empty. You’d never slept in that bed alone, and you didn’t like how it felt. There was no dip in the bed, no warmth, no arms wrapped around you. And it didn’t help that Minghao’s scent still lingered on his side of the bed, tricking you into thinking he could still be there.

With tear-filled eyes, you got out of bed and grabbed Minghao’s pillow. You brought your phone and your charger downstairs and plugged it back in before putting the pillow on one end of the couch. Then you laid down, covered yourself with the blanket folded over the back of the couch, and cried silently until you fell asleep, your tears staining Minghao’s pillow.

-

You woke up multiple times, but you forced yourself to stay asleep. The house groaned and creaked too often like somebody was walking through the house, and you didn’t like it. But you’d rather be asleep and not think than be awake and not only listen to the noise your empty house made, but remember that Minghao wasn’t there with you. 

It wasn’t until it was 3am that you couldn’t force yourself to sleep anymore. You weren’t tired and the noises were keeping you awake. The house was just so old that it made every creepy and creaky noise imaginable — especially the stairs that weren’t too far away from the living room. So you got up and began wandering the house, turning on all the lights just to make it a bit more bearable. You didn’t like walking around the house alone because it felt so big and so...off. It was like you never even lived there. The pictures of you and Minghao that you had around the house, though, felt like they were from another life or an alternate timeline. They were like they never happened even though it was only a few weeks ago that he was here.

You sniffles as you explored the house, seeing it as a different place even though you’d live there with Minghao for the last five months. You had previously lived together in an apartment for three years but he wanted to finally have a place to call your own. This house did feel like a home with your boyfriend in it, but now? It was unfamiliar to you. It felt cold and empty and alone, and there was nothing you could—

Warmth touched your hand. You gasped and yanked your hand upward, staring at your fingertips as they tingled. Were you going crazy and imagining things? Was it some sort of wishful thinking that somebody — specifically Minghao — would comfort you? 

You slowly put your hand back down, trying to see if you would feel it again. Sure enough, warmth encased your hand, and it was oddly comforting. It felt like when Minghao would hold your hand when you were afraid to do something like go through a haunted house on Halloween or stand on the short step ladder to put the star on top of the Christmas tree or when you’d wake up from a nightmare. 

Maybe Minghao really was with you. Maybe he knew that you were afraid without him and he was here to comfort you. Maybe when people said your loved ones were watching over you, they really were.

-

It had been two days since that weird occurrence, and you still couldn’t tell if it was just your imagination or not. Not to mention it was 3am. It was really late, so maybe that had something to do with it. 

But...what if…?

You decided that maybe you’d talk to Seungcheol about it. He invited you out that day because he wanted to make sure you were okay. However, he made sure to say he would be picking you up rather than having you meet him somewhere. You knew he’d give you his honest opinion on what was going on, even if maybe it wasn’t what you wanted to hear. 

You went for lunch at the place he knew was your favorite restaurant. He was standing outside your door to pick you up with one hand shoved in his jacket pocket while the other held his phone, his head bowed as he looked at the screen. His nose and cheeks were pink from the cold, but he still smiled when he looked up at you, and wrapped his arms around you in a hug. 

“How’ve you been?” he asked just as he pulled away.

“Okay,” you shrugged. “You could’ve waited in the car for me, y’know. It’s cold.”

“It doesn’t bother me,” he chuckled. “I’ve only been here a minute.”

The two of you drove to the restaurant while making small talk. You mostly asked each other how you’d been and how readjusting was going. Seungcheol had been seeing a counselor now because he was afraid. He was the one who invited Minghao out and asked him to meet the rest of them there. Now he’s afraid that none of his friends will show up, just like Minghao never did. It’s why he insisted on picking you up, like he did with anybody he wanted to hang out with now. However, he offered to hang out even less than he used to. He used to want to do something almost every night, but now he stayed in and just texted his friends. 

Everybody thought it was best for you to see somebody, too. You and Minghao had been together for almost four years, and all of his friends knew he planned on proposing on your four year anniversary. However, that obviously didn’t work out, and everybody was afraid to tell you. The ring was ultimately given to his parents, so you never saw it. But because they knew how much he meant to you and that you both wanted to spend your lives together, everybody thought it was best for you to talk to somebody about how you felt -- especially now that you lived alone. 

For now, you just cooped yourself up in your lonely house, which was why everyone was so worried about you.

“Can I ask you a weird question?” you asked after the small conversation about what Seungcheol had been up to since arriving back home had died down.

“You can ask me anything,” he replied, glancing at you.

You weren’t sure how to ask something so odd, but you knew if you just beat around the bush, you’d never get the question out, “Do you believe in like...ghosts and things?”

“Ghosts?” Seungcheol repeated. He stayed silent for a second as his mind seemed to start to put the pieces together. “Why, do you think…?”

“It sounds crazy, but I swear I felt someone touch my hand the other night,” you admitted, unable to look at him when you said it because you knew how insane you sounded. You sounded like a heartbroken girlfriend grasping for anything to find comfort in -- and maybe you were in some ways. “I don’t know who else that could be.”

Seungcheol sighed softly, not wanting to come off as rude, but he had to admit he didn’t believe you, “_____, you haven’t been getting much sleep since the accident. I think your mind is just playing tricks on you. Seriously, you should see a professional to cope. I can try to hook you up with--”

As Seungcheol went on about how the person he was seeing was really helping and he thought it would help you too, you zoned out. Was Seungcheol right? Were you just grasping for straws?

But you swore, it felt so real…

-

Despite the seemingly constant texts from your friends to check up and make sure you were taking care of yourself, you didn’t do much and you didn’t go out to see anybody. After seeing Seungcheol almost a week ago, you didn’t want to tell anyone else of what happened. In fact, you were worried he had told the others, which was why they were even more adamant in checking in. You didn’t want them to pity you, thinking you were going crazy with your loneliness.

Maybe you weren’t going crazy, but you definitely weren’t motivated. Taking care of yourself was something that was difficult for you to do. Showering had become a chore, changing your clothes was something you hadn’t done since getting home from your outing with Seungcheol, and eating was something you did once a day -- on a good day. It wasn’t just because of grieving, but it was also because of the house. It was all too empty and sad. You didn’t like walking around it if you didn’t have to, so you chose not to.

During the week, you couldn’t help but feel like there was somebody watching you. You wondered if it was Minghao, but you kept reminding yourself of what Seungcheol had said. It was all in your head. ...Right? But you also knew that even if it was him, he’d be hurt to see the state you were in. You’d had your share of bad days where he’d do his best to try to get you out of bed and do something, but sometimes you just had really bad days where you couldn’t do the smallest things.

‘It’s killing me to see you this way, love,’ you faintly heard his voice say, like a memory in the back of your head.

Was it just a memory…?

You’d decided to stay in your bedroom instead of the couch. It was harder to hear the sounds the house made at night, but it didn’t mean you still didn’t hear them. The sounds of the stairs creaking at night kept you up when you tried to sleep, making you think someone was walking around. That whole week, you hardly slept at night -- but you didn’t sleep much during the day, either. The winter wind howling against the windows and causing the house to creak never seemed to become background noise like it had when Minghao was by your side.

You pulled the covers up to your nose during another sleepless night, ears listening to the sounds of the creaking stairs that were muffled by the closed bedroom door. It sounded like weight shifting as someone ascended the stairs, but nobody ever padded down the hall or opened the bedroom door. It was just the old house settling.

‘It’s the house telling you to close your eyes.’

It was something Minghao had said when the two of you first moved in and you had yet to adjust to the new noises and creaks your house made. You were afraid of the odd sounds that sounded creepy and made the house seem like it was alive, but Minghao tried to reassure you they were comforting sounds to not be afraid of.

However, this time when you heard it, it was like his soft voice was reminding you once again. It was still quiet, almost like it was all in your head, but it wasn’t just the memory of him saying it.

You felt warmth on your back, going all down the backside of your body. But this time, it didn’t startle you like it did when you felt it on your hand. This time, it felt comforting. Maybe it was from the lack of sleep, or maybe it was because it was the middle of the night and being awake so late would make anyone a little loopy. But you found yourself letting your heavy eyelids close, and you drifted off to a peaceful sleep for the first time in a long time.

-

If you really were hearing Minghao, you didn’t tell anyone. You knew they would all say what Seungcheol had, and you were already struggling against yourself to know if you were crazy or not. Some days, you were sure you knew what you were feeling and hearing. You were positive he was with you, trying to have little talks with you. Others, you convinced yourself you were crazy. Seungcheol’s words would ring in your head, and you could almost hear your other friends voicing their concern for your mental health. 

The days where you believed Minghao was with you, you’d speak aloud. It was like you were trying to talk to him, wherever he was. Maybe he couldn’t actually hear you, but you didn’t care. Sometimes, you swore you could hear him reply to you, but you’d look back on it a different day and tell yourself it was just wishful thinking. You never did truly know where you stood on if you were wrong or right.

There was one thing you were sure of: you weren’t getting any better. Whether you were crazy or not, the days never got any easier. You found it harder and harder to even reply to your friends, asking yourself what the point was anyway. Minghao was gone, leaving behind faint traces of himself in your house that slowly slipped away like faded memories. And with him completely gone, you couldn’t handle it. Little things you held onto like the smell of his pillow and the clothes still in the closet were becoming more and more faint, leaving you feeling more alone than you’d ever felt.

As you laid in bed, on top of the covers this time, you stared up at the ceiling. The edges of your vision warped and were slowly eaten up by black fog that started to consume everything you saw.

‘Just let me go, _____,’ you swore you heard Minghao’s voice, much clearer than any other time you’d thought you heard it. But you knew, even now, it might’ve been from your current state. Maybe it wasn’t real. But you wanted to believe it was; that he was on the other side. ‘I promise, we’ll meet again. But let me go for now.’

“Hao…” you croaked out quietly, your voice being met with the creaking of the house as the wind whipped the bare tree branches around outside “Please...wait for me…”

With a faint smile on your face, your eyes slowly closed, knowing that once you’d fallen asleep, you’d see your love once more.

[kpopisthereasonihavenolife]

Kim Taehyung/Reader [F]

Genre: royal au, magic au, hopelessly romantic, fluff, dashes of angst, taehyung is a brat but in a fun way, y/n is babie, could kinda be considered love at first sight? 

Warning(s): toxic royality (the king), brief mentions of isolation/selling of servants, one mean lady who whacks y/n with a dowel rod

Words: 8.2k

Series | One-shot | Two-Shot | Drabble | [Rated: T ]

Summary: You were born with magic. Born by two perfectly normal human parents, you were born in a bright light that others considered cursed. With your father walking out and your mother abandoning you, you were sold to the royal palace in the Lisha Kingdom who had heard of your magic.  You were handed over to them not as a person, but as a prisoner.  At the age of 5, the king placed you in magic binding items and placed a mask over your mouth, keeping your cursed words of sorcery locked away.  

Now, his eldest son who had been living abroad from far off kingdoms to the seven seas- learning and experiencing the world as he knew it- returns to the palace to take his place as the crowned prince and Lisha’s future king.  What he can’t seem to wrap his head around, however; is the beautiful servant girl who is always wearing a mask and no matter how much he talks to her, she never talks back.  

a/n: so, this is something I started late last year and while at the time, i was super excited to start it, as time passed I let it sit and then when I came back to it, I had no idea what on earth to do with it. So, instead of pressuring myself into something I wouldn’t be happy with, I dusted up the draft I had and I am posting this as an open? unfinished? piece.  I have no future intentions of continuing it, even if the ending is so open with room for questions, I simply don’t have the answers. I’m trying to be more fair to myself when it comes to my work and not pressuring myself into writing a story I won’t be happy with. That goes along with not stressing out either. Nonetheless! I hope that what I did get completed was worth the read!  ily <3 

“I sure hope you are not planning on sneaking off; now are you, Your Highness?” The prince froze mid-step as he was previously attempting to leave his carriage entourage, but got caught by the temporary attendant to make sure he got back to the palace in the process.  “We only just entered the capital, what could you possibly be going off to do?” 

The platinum-haired prince turned around with an over-dramatic swing and pitiful stomp of his feet on the carriage step.  Built with soft yet sturdy muscles from his days traveling and sailing at sea, his tanned skin was the perfect shade to swoon anyone who looked at him.  Eyes big and blue in color- a rare trait to have such bright hair and eyes in the royal family. 

“I haven’t been home in years!” The prince countered with a pitched fit.  “I want to explore before I go to the castle.  What’s so wrong with that?” 

His attendant only shook his head.  “I see your time abroad spoiled you rotten.” The prince inwardly scowled.  It did not.  “You need to head to the palace and greet your father- the king- immediately.  He is no patient man.” 

The prince rolled his eyes.  He highly doubted his father had changed.  Even when he was a small child and still lived with his father in the palace walls, he could remember his strict and blunt father.  The stereotype of royalty was upheld to a new level when the focus was put on Lisha’s king. The prince stepped back into the carriage interior before plopping himself across the plush bench.  Arms folded behind his head and one of his boot-clad feet kicked up across from him on the opposite bench as he huffed.  

“Prince Taehyung! Your attitude is rather uncalled for.” 

“Why stand around bickering about it?  I thought we had to go see the king immediately?”  Taehyung mocked as his leg that hung off the bench bounced against the velvet in some unpatterned rhythm that played the tune of annoyance.  The attendant kept his itching argument to himself remembering it wasn't just some bratty kid he was talking to, but the crown prince of Lisha.  

He just bowed his head before shutting the carriage door.  Soon, Taehyung jostled across his bench when the carriage took off moving forward.  The sound of clopping hooves paired with the sound of wheel crunched dirt and stone. 

An impatiently sat hour later and Taehyung had been taken into the palace ground, met with his father- as pleasant as that was- for the smallest amount of time used for a visit. Taehyung questioned if it was truly necessary in the first place and then was promptly sent off.  Not having nowhere specifically to go to other than his quarters later, he just wandered.  

Walking around with dark trousers and a shirt so white and worn it was nearly sheer and obviously two sizes too big as it’s thin fabric puffed as it stayed tucked into his bottoms.  The summer was much harsher inland than it was out in the open seas and he can say he had quite the distaste for warm weather. 

As he wandered and familiarized himself with his home again, he heard gossip from this way and that.  Some about royal unfairness- a fair complaint if Taehyung was honest.  Other about pains that began to come with their growing age.  And a lot about ‘her’- she never being named.  From what he could gather form just passing words of his eavesdropping, someone was employed as a castle servant and not well-liked by her peers.  Intrigued, Taehyung finally had a goal in all his aimless walking. 

Put his charisma and people skills to work and find the ‘not-very-well-liked’ servant girl. 

It was noon by the time Taehyung felt like giving up already.  He had spent hours walking around in circles and even talking to a few staff circles but turned up empty-handed to figure out just who this unliked girl was.  He stood on the second story of the west wing’s balcony as the summer air was as stagnant as a puddle of warm water.  Feeling his sweat roll down his back, he let out a small yelp when something touched the back of his neck. 

Jumping back and away to his right, he held his neck and looked to see what touched him.  Expecting to see some sort of critter on the ground, he instinctively looked down.  Instead of a rodent or bug, he saw a pair of feet.  Looking up, he was soon making eye contact with a pair of large- rather pretty- eyes.  

His eye shot back down to your feet. Wearing no shoes, but two anklets around each ankle, you were already an odd one to Taehyung.  Looking you over, you looked normal, yet not.  Dressed in a skirt and corset with a long-sleeved worn maids shirt, it looked like palace work clothing.  You wore no gloves as others did and wore a set of two bracelets around your wrists that matched the ones on your ankles.  Hair pulled back off your neck completely to try and outwit the heat, Taehyung looked at the mask covering the lower half of your face. 

Looking down at your hands, he saw you held a small handkerchief.  

“So that’s what touched me!” He exclaimed, letting out a breath of air- relieved it wasn’t a critter after all.  Even with all his time out in the open, he still got freaked out at the initial idea of anything creepy-crawly running around on his body.  “Sorry for the noise, I hope I didn’t scare you?” He asked, apologizing for how he scampered away from you so suddenly.  

You just smiled as your eyes pushed up and shook your head.  Taehyung tilted his head a fraction. 

“You’re… not a talker are you?” You shook your head again.  “What is it? Shy or something?”  You shook your head again before you pulled something from a small pouch that was strapped to your side.  A small little notepad and a worn, wooden pencil.  Scribbling on it with speed to impress the best writer, you were soon holding your notebook in front of Taehyung’s face. 

‘I’m not allowed to talk.’

“Not… allowed? Who made that rule up, that’s just ridiculous.” He breathed out.  

‘It’s true!’ You wrote as you pointed at it for emphasis as he could see your cheek puff from under your mask.  

“But, you can talk, can’t you?  Just not allowed to?” You nodded. Taehyung watched as you started scribbling again.  

‘I haven’t seen you around here before.  Are you visiting the capital?’

“Oh, no- nothing like that.”  Taehyung rubbed his neck.  “You see, I’m actually-” 

“Y/n!”  You jumped as you whirled around and saw an older servant at the corner of the balcony- not too far from you and Taehyung.  She stomped her way around the corner and to your side, lightly swatting your bare leg with a thin, wooden dowel.  “I’m certain you haven’t finished your tasks!  You cannot delay, the king expects results and you- cursed child- are hindering them!”  You bowed in silent fret before straightening your back.  

You turned to Taehyung as quickly as possible, placed your handkerchief in his open hand and pointed to his neck.  You fanned yourself as if telling him ‘it’s hot, take care of yourself’ before you rushed off with another thwack of wood to your calf.  

Taehyung didn’t even have the chance to get your name- although he heard the servant woman say it.  He couldn’t tell you his name, or who he was and here he stood.  On the second floor balcony with your white and pink embroidered handkerchief.  He wasn’t even able to scold the servant for whacking you with a dowel before she scampered off behind you.  It must’ve stung on your skin. 

Taehyung was a young man, but as he remembered you writing on your book and how your eyes looked, he chuckled like a child in puppy love. He looked at the handkerchief and folded it neatly before tucking it into the pocket of his trousers.  As long as he had that one piece of cloth, he would see you again anyways.  He had to return it, he was a gentleman after all. 

Xxx

The next morning, Taehyung snuck out of his room before any palace official came to usher him off to his royal princely duties.  Walking around in a pair of loose silk trousers and a black button-down of the same fine silk fabric, he padded around in the gardens. The fresh air reminded him of his time outside the palace, he already missed the memories of days prior. 

His steps halted when he saw someone crouched by a line of rose beaded shrubs.  A pair of shears in their hand as they snipped roses from the bush and placed them into the basket at their side.  He smiled when he saw their bare skin and anklets.  He walked up behind you before speaking. 

“What are you doing out here?” You jumped, shears falling out of your grip and stumbling back onto your rear-end.  Looking up and behind your shoulder, you saw Taehyung biting back laughter. Instead of rolling your eyes, he could see them bend into crescents and your cheeks push up under your mask.  Lifting the small notepad and pencil at your side up into your lap, you begin scribbling. 

Taehyung moved to your side and squatted down at your left.  You were soon showing him the notepad. 

‘Good morning.’ 

Taehyung waved cutely at you.  “Good morning back.  Now, about the shrub?” He pointed to the flowers before you started writing again. 

‘I heard the prince came into the castle after a really long time yesterday.  I was going to place a basket of flowers as a welcome home for him outside his room.  Anonymously of course.’ 

“Oh? So, you don’t know who the prince is?” You shook your head. “Well!” He perked up.  “I’ve heard he’s pretty handsome.  Better watch out, cute girls like you could totally be his type.”  You just shook your head, denying his little outburst as he just giggled at you.  Taehyung hopped closer and picked up your sheers.  “So, how do you know which ones to cut?” 

You pointed to a bloomed, vibrant rose.  You motioned with your hand to find bright, big petaled stems.  Following your pointed finger to each bloom he should cut, he snipped roses and placed them into the basket you didn’t yet know was actually for him. 

When you finished,  you took your shears and the basket and stood.  Taehyung offered to walk you back to your room before your royal servant duties began.  You allowed him to and you both were on your way.  Taehyung did most- all- of the talking. You tried expressing conversation with your hand waves and gestures.  Taehyung had a bit too much fun trying to decipher them like a game of charades. 

“Hey,” he called when the two of you just walked in silence. “Why can’t you talk?” You looked down and pulled your notepad out. 

‘The king hates my voice.’

“Why?  You're always barefoot and always wear a mask? Are you sick?” 

‘No.’  You started to write, but scribbled something out and wrote something else instead.  ‘I don’t think I can tell you.’ 

“Is it a secret?” 

‘Well, no.  But, sometimes it’s hard to admit.’

Taehyung nodded and placed his hand on your head.  “Sorry I asked.  I didn’t mean to upset you.” You only shook your head.  “I look forward to seeing your flowers after you’ve arranged them.” You rose your brow before you pointed at your room door, arriving at your room finally. 

He let you in and practically danced back to his room.  He stopped in his tracks and pressed his fingers to pinch the bridge of his nose realizing he once again neglected to tell you his name. 

“Next time!” He shouted to no one, promising himself that next time he wouldn’t forget as he marched back to his room. 

Xxx

You entered your room that you shared with another servant girl.  She often got along with you and didn’t alienate you as others did.  Walking in, she was already dressed and awake.  She was quick to ask you where you’ve been as you’re not normally allowed to go anywhere without permission or supervision.  Royal orders. 

You showed her the basket to her before shoving your note in your face.  

‘Do you know some guy with light hair who is allowed to walk around the castle in pajamas?’ 

“What? Some nut-job in his pajamas?” You nodded, lightly flapping your notepad at her for calling him a nut-job.  “You’re making it up in a fit of loneliness.  Oh god,” you huffed, throwing your notepad down before moving to sit and place flower after flower from your basket to a glass, aqua vase.  “The silent treatment, huh?” She teased.  She soon left to start her morning. 

You waited.  Unable to do anything until the sun began to finally rise.  The king refused to let you wander the castle unless it was daytime.  You had planned to finish the flowers and hoped your supervisor would allow you to deliver them to the prince’s door before your work started.  You sighed, doubting it would happen.  You soon dressed in your work clothes, took the small vase and left- deciding to take a trip to the prince’s quarters first then meet your supervisor. 

Trotting down the hall, you rushed to place the flowers and then run back to your room to wait for your supervisor, hoping not to be caught.  Though, luck didn’t seem to be favorable with you in the grand scheme of things. 

“Y/n!” The voice of the old woman that is your superior echoed behind you.  You immediately stopped in your tracks, slowly turning around to meet her angry stomps approaching you with a glare that pinned you down.  You unconsciously held the vase closer to your chest.  “What in the world are you doing? Heading down the royal halls of our royal family. On top of it all, unauthorized!” You shrunk under her scolding. 

“What’s going on here?” A voice calmly addressed behind you.  Looking back, it was Taehyung behind you.  He had changed his clothes since earlier.  Black pants with a white long-sleeved shirt and black vest.  Hair now parted and brushed.  His fingers decorated in rings and ears pierced with small hoops.  Black boots covering his feet. 

“Ah-” your superior stuttered.  “I- your highness!” you whipped your head back to the old woman.  “I apologize for the commotion so early! Y/n here was simply disobeying a set of very specific rules and-” 

“I am only hearing excuses.” His voice was sharp in contrast to the warm way he spoke to you earlier on.  He grabbed your elbow lightly, getting your attention.  He smiled at the red peeking out from under your mask.  “You were going to give those flowers to the prince, yes?” You slowly nodded.  “Well, can I have them?” 

You looked at the flower vase and then back up. You turned around in three clumsy, unsure steps before presenting them to Taehyung.  He laughed lowly, graciously removing the vase from your grip into his. 

“Thank you, Y/n.  I, Taehyung of Lisha, truly appreciate it.” You nodded.  He called for your ear as he shot your supervisor a look of ‘stay back and hush’. “Come meet me later, I want to talk more is possible. Okay?” He whispered as you nodded again before you were pulled off to finally start work. 

Taehyung took the flowers you gave to him inside his room, placing them in the sunlight on the small side table beside his bed.  He laughed smittenly as he poked at the flowers' soft petals.  At least he was finally able to tell you his name this time. 

Xxx

Taehyung had forgotten how suffocating it could be to be inside the palace.  It may be grand and large in scale and size, but the constant hovering and directions as to what and what not to do as prince kept him clicking his tongue.  He’d find himself muttering prayers of patience to get through just the formalities.  He may have been gone for years, but he didn’t forget how to be princely.  

He crossed paths with his father a few times in the halls, only stopping to lower his head to him in respect as he just kept on going, his attendant in tow.  Taehyung hissed at his father’s back each time- not even granted a nod in return.  He wasn’t sure why, but since knowing that his father hated your voice, he grew ten times more annoyed towards him.  

In fact, you occupied many of his thoughts of the day.  He just met you, yet he seemed undeniably drawn to you for reasons he wasn’t sure of.  Was it because you were dressed so differently than the other servants? Or perhaps you had certain guidelines and rules to follow under the king's directions? 

He was currently sitting in the private library with his temporary attendant as they droned on about something or another. Taehyung- much to his aides jargon- sat slumped forward, elbow on the small round table he sat at and cheek cupped in his palm. Utterly bored, he finally found a chance to speak among a minuscule break in his attendants lecture. 

“What is the story behind the serving maid with the mask?” He voiced finally. The question brought his lecturing aide to silence before they cleared their throat. 

“Your Highness, you needn’t worry-” 

“I’m expecting a proper answer,” Taehyung fought. “Do not run me in circles. I will just simply ask about her again.” His eyes kept staring off to nowhere, focusing on nothing in particular. His jaw snapping shut each time he spoke as his palm pushed into his chin from slouching. He heard his aide sigh. 

“As you wish.” Taehyung almost tutted with a snide smirk with his clear victory over the barely started discussion- but he refrained. “She was sold to His Majesty as a child.” Taehyung’s heart dropped to his gut, although his face was as calm and unchanging as before. He has had much practice in keeping a bored expression to hide his true emotions from others. “She was sold on the condition the king suppress her abilities because her parents simply did not want a cursed child.” 

Taehyung lifted his head to his aide for the first time that afternoon. “Excuse me? Abilities and curses? Are you pulling my leg after I advised you not to?” In actuality, he knew what his attendant was referring to. Magician’s and sorcery. 

An exceedingly rare breed of human. He's met only a few before in the past during his travels abroad, but the way this attendant spoke about you was angering him. Pushing him towards a sour mood. Like mentioning your beyond normal abilities would cause some sort of bad karma. 

“No, Highness. That servant girl is under constant surveillance and strict restriction as ordered by His Majesty- your father. Every accessory she wears is a restriction.” Taehyung remembers how you explained that the king hated your voice. His brow dipped. His father hated your voice because you had magic? No, that can’t be it. The king must be frightened of your voice- the voice that should be free to recite spells because it was your birthright. 

“And that woman’s mask?” Taehyung asked. “What of that?” 

“It is a final resort to keep her silent. She cannot use or speak of magic so long as she wears it. That is the royal order. She is not even able to remove it herself, only royal blood may do so.” Taehyung’s brow ticked back up. Only the Royal bloodline can remove it, huh? He bit back a snide smirk. 

“Interesting,” he mumbled. The attendant was pleased to finally drop the topic altogether. 

The prince continued to partially listen to his ‘catch up’ lessons on palace do’s and don'ts; however, in the grand scheme of things he was always wondering when or if he’d get the chance to run into you again somewhere. He felt guilty for being the son of the man who is keeping you from reaching your true potential as a sorceress. He was the only son of Lisha’s king and you were his caged animal.  

The magic users he had spoken to before in his past had always told him the same thing when he asked how magic felt. It felt like the ocean breeze at dawn and that breeze turned into a cold, harsh storm when the magic was gone.  Without magic they felt suffocated. The torment of magic repression was enough to bring some to the brink of insanity. However, he wondered how you felt about it inside. Restricted for so long, were you in pain? 

Did you even know what magic felt like? Could you remember from your childhood before it was pushed down into the pit of your stomach and smothered? 

The moment he had the opportunity to slip away from his forced shadow, he promptly took it with haste.  Ducking out and rushing off, he was able to camp out in an alcove before the coast was clear for him to wander again. He walked with a sense of near urgency as he hoped to run into you as he’s done before. Or perhaps meet his father in the halls, that would suffice as well. 

Heading down to the royal halls where the royal families rest in their private rooms, Taehyung quickly slipped into the room that used to belong to his mother and former Queen of Lisha.  

Just the air in the room and how she had decorated it with vases and painting in the past brought the weight on Taehyung’s chest off. The room had been untouched just as he had wished- a sort of tomb of remembrance in her honor. She had not lived past 40 before illness and improper- obviously botched- treatment took hold of her. Leaving her son behind, he still missed her every morning when he woke to the sun. 

He opened the permanently unlocked wardrobe and wooden trunk in the room. Revealing dresses, corsets, hair pieces, accessories, jewels and nightwear with the occasional pair of trousers- however improper for a lady they were. The trunk had shoes that he could vaguely remember dancing on with his mother leading him when he was smaller. 

He trifled around before he pulled a pair of open top, black shoes from the trunk that could easily be worn without crafting the ankle- or anything around it.  For himself he grabbed a ruby earring that hung from his lobe as soon as he placed it on himself. It bounced off his jawline with each turn of his head.  This was his mother’s favorite color- ruby red. He smiled into the mirror that hung on the wardrobe door and hoped his mother would be proud of the man he grew up to be. 

Shutting everything back up, he grabbed the flats and left the room. He rushed around and asked any servant or guard he could find if they knew of your whereabouts. He was in the midst of asking yet another when his attention was grabbed from behind. 

“Highness, are you searching for Y/n?” He turned at the mention of your name. Not one servant he had spoken to had addressed you by name but this woman who approached him did without wavering. Young and with kind eyes. “Unfortunately, she’s wrapped up in chores until this evening. Her curfew is at sundown, so she won’t have any time for much extra activity.” She explained to him. “However, if you need to pass a message to her, I’d be happy to deliver. She and I share a room in the servants' wing, so it’d be no trouble in the slightest.” 

Taehyung’s eyes lit up. At least you weren’t completely isolated from the rest of the castle. You seemed to have a kind enough roommate- at least at surface level. It was always possible this woman with the kind eyes was lying to look good in front of him- the prince who obviously had no ill will towards you. 

“Would you? If I find out you haven’t, I’ll be very upset with you.” He lightly teased, only half meaning it the underlined threat of ‘don’t do what I ask and a royal fit is in your future’. She simply nodded. Taehyung lifted the flats into view “I’m tired of seeing her run around shoe-less because the castle won’t provide her proper shoes that don’t encase the ankle. These should help.” 

Something in the woman’s eyes shined. Like someone being kind towards you was something so asinine and rare. She gratefully took the shoes from Taehyung’s grasp as she smiled down at them so purely it almost seemed she would weep. She nodded to herself before she looked back to the prince, glee written on her features. 

“May I tell her the prince gifted these? Or shall I be anonymous with it?” Her voice perked, almost seemingly excited to deliver your new ‘royal’ shoes. 

Taehyung smiled. “Please do tell her it was me. I’d like the credit for the safety of her feet,” he chided. She nodded and before she could run off to put them in their shared room, Taehyung stopped her. “Oh, what was your name? I never caught it.” 

She smiled at the prince.  “I am Akina, Highness.” Taehyung nodded to her.  He wanted to learn as many names and faces as possible of his servants of the castle. Unlike his father, he wanted to appreciate his staff for their work.  She scampered off as Taehyung turned and went back to wandering the halls. That is until he got caught from his out of breath, frantic aide that chewed him out for simply running off.  

Taehyung was in for an earful he had a feeling he couldn’t sneak away from. 

Xxx

When you entered your shared room with Akina you slumped against your door with a silent huff.  Ever sense Taehyung had run into you and lain into your supervisor, she had gotten even harsher on you.  Your feet were sore and your legs hurt from all the dowel swats you received if you were to even step wrong walking down the hall.  Still, you just took a breath and calmed down, holding your sour disposition about your treatment. At least you weren’t executed- so you could deal with the harshness. 

“Madam Hana was too strict today, wasn’t she?” You looked up and saw the small figure of Akina sat in her bed. You nodded before you walked to her, plopping on her bed beside her.  You pulled out your notepad and ever shortening pencil as you wrote in the dimly lit room. 

‘My legs hurt from all her whacking,’ your paper whined for you. 

“Well, maybe I can cheer you up. Or, maybe our charming prince can.” You looked at Akina, your brow shooting up. She hopped off her bed before going to the small shared wardrobe in the room that held both your and her items. She grabbed something from the bottom before whirling around and coming back only to plop something into your lap. Knocking your notepad and pencil away from you. “These are from Prince Taehyung, for you.” 

You were speechless- not that you could speak anyways. Sat in your lap was the cleanest, more lovely pair of black flats you had ever seen. Enclosed around the toes and open to the top of your foot with just enough room to hook over your heel and not an inch higher. They’d be so convenient to wear. You ran your finger over their edges before you were reaching for your notepad again and scribbling furiously. You shoved the paper into Akina’s hands. 

‘Are you sure they’re for me?’ 

“He strictly instructed me that I give them to you with the message that he wants you to wear them because he doesn’t want you to hurt your feet anymore,” your roommate explained. You just stared at them star struck. The prince really wanted you to have these shoes? Where did he even get them? Regardless of if it was really him who gifted you these shoes or not, you just nodded in acceptance. 

The idea of not padding around barefoot anymore was blissful to just think about. You grew excited to wear them in the morning when another day of grilling work and dowel whacks began. Akina just smiled as she set your notepad aside, watching you kick your feet with your under eyes pushing up in a smile she couldn’t see. 

“You are just too darned cute,” the older one insisted. “If I were 10 years older, I’d adopt you in a heartbeat!” She gushed before she sat on the bed beside you and grabbed the shoes. “Let’s try them on!” 

Xxx

Taehyung woke up early that next morning, taking to the halls as they were quiet and empty in his silk, royal pjs once again.  Peach colored button up shirt that matched the same peach silk trousers that hung off his hips.  Slippers of tan on his feet and a robe of gradient corals to fight off the morning chill.  He hadn’t bothered in fixing himself to be presentable in the halls, simply because it was far too early to care about physical appearances.  

He left his room that morning and made a dash for the gardens.  He had hopped to run into you there again, but he wasn’t very hopeful. The only reason he saw you last time was because you were gathering flowers for him- the same flowers he kept in his window sill and watered. But, even if you were not in the gardens, maybe you would be somewhere else?

He stopped mid stride in the hall when he remembered that Akina had told him that you had strict surveillance and curfew.  You most definitely wouldn’t be allowed out of your room until fetched.  He groaned to himself as he then spun on his heels and backtracked towards the servant’s halls. 

Thankfully, he knew where your room was- he did drop you off once after all. 

He never realized how many servants were under the king’s employment until he was walking down halls of the servant’s wing.  It seemed they were endless before he finally turned down the hall he knew was yours. He nearly jogged when he caught sight of the door he remembered dropping you off at before. 

He came to a stop in front of it before he was knocking lightly. He turned and looked out the window behind him- the sun was almost ready to appear for the day. Although it was not yet upon the horizon, the sky had already begun to change colors. His attention fell back to the door when the door handle jostled and then twisted. 

The door was cracked open and he was greeted with Akina standing in the open crack. She seemed shocked to see Taehyung in front of her room- of course that was a valid expression. He wasn’t even properly dressed after all.  He smiled down to her as he tried to peer inside of the room- but it was too dark to see properly. He looked back to Akina ruffling his messy, blond hair. 

“Is Y/n awake yet?” He asked her.  Akina twisted her body around and watched as you remained sleeping in your bed. Curled into your blankets and softly snoring. She turned back to her prince. 

“She isn’t. Shall I wake her up?” Taehyung shook his head. 

“May I come in? I know it’s not proper for a male to enter a female’s room, but could I?” Akina’s face twisted in a few moments of shock before she was stepping back, taking the door with her as it opened further.  Apparently, she didn’t mind.  Taehyung thanked her as he stepped in, Akina shutting the door behind him. 

He stood in the room as he looked around. It was dim, the lantern on the desk in the middle of the room unlit as the morning sky only barely gave the room light.  Though it was bright enough to navigate, Akina still rushed to strike a match and light the lantern for better view. She didn’t want the crown prince falling over something and getting hurt in her room. 

The small, two bedded room was far different than his own grand room.  He felt almost guilty at the difference between staff and royal standards. However, it was something not even he could change- it was part of how the world has been.  Perhaps though, one day he could at least improve servants’ quarters. 

He shook his head, his thoughts wandering before he turned to Akina. Asking for silent permission to come closer to you. She nodded as he tiptoed to your bedside and knelt beside it.  He smiled as you slept.  

You slept curled up in blankets, tucked into your chin and curled up like you were cold. Your head had completely slipped off your pillow as you occasionally squirmed. He started poking at your face; your cheeks and nose and tracing your forehead in dumb patterns. He even poked at your mask that he was annoyed you still had to wear even while sleeping. He watched your face pout as he curled his lips to keep himself from laughing. 

“Y/n,” he called. He kept prodding at your face until your eyes started to twitch under your eyelids.  “Y/n,” he cooed again. As Taehyung tried to wake you, Akina moved to her own bed as she sat down still a bit in shock that the prince was in her room and messing with you. Eventually, your eyes slowly opened, before blinking slowly. He smiled at you as your eyes moved to look at him. “Good morning,” he greeted. 

He laughed as your eyes shot open now realizing who was in front of your bed.  Tangled in your blankets you shot up and tried to get out of your fabric prison. Sitting up, your torso free of your blanket, but your legs still trapped in it’s folds, you looked past Taehyung to Akina. She was simply smiling at you, shaking her head and shrugging her shoulders before you looked back at the prince. 

You looked around to the desk and saw your notepad and pencil sat there, but too far for you to reach.  You jumped when Taehyung stood from his knelt position beside you and started to pull at your blanket.  You moved as he tugged and before long he was pulling the blanket off you completely. 

Taehyung looked at the notepad on the desk before he was grabbing it and placing it in your lap before he was sitting himself down beside you on your mattress.  He decided to keep his opinion on your white nightgown to himself- you looked adorable in it. He giggled as you started to scribble down words quickly before shoving it into his lap. 

‘What are you doing here, Your Highness?’ 

“I didn’t get to see you all day, so I came to see you.” He gently set your notepad back in your lap before he was talking again. “I know you're under some strict scheduling, but do you want to go walk with me? I have something I want to talk to you about.” Your eyes widened before you looked down at your lap and lightly kicked your feet against your bed frame.  Your being filled with nervousness as Akina was soon standing up. 

She moved to the trunk at the end of your bed before she reached into the wardrobe and grabbed a bag to hang your notepad and pencil in.  She was now kneeling in front of you, grabbing your feet around your anklets before she was slipping your new, black flats onto your feet. 

Taehyung smiled as Akina helped you, glad that she not only gave you the shoes like he asked, but they fit so well on you. She then grabbed your notepad from your lap and placed it into the small bag before helping you to your feet.  

“If Madam Hana comes by, I’ll try and stall for you. Go enjoy the morning before work, okay?” She held your hands before she slung the bag over your shoulder to let it rest on your hip. Taehyung was soon standing behind you and patting your back between your shoulder blades.  He smiled down at you, something that helped ease your nerves.  

Between the both of them, you were soon out in the halls with your nightgown on and Taehyung beside you in his pajamas as Akina shut the door behind you both. You shivered from the cool air in the halls compared to your small, warm room.  Taehyung was quick to pull the silk robe from his shoulders and place it over you.  

“Wear this,” he urged as you wanted to decline as it was a royal’s robe.  He just persisted before he pulled your arms through the sleeves and straightened it to sit on your shoulders.  Your shoulder didn’t quite fill it out like his did, but that was alright.  You had to admit, it was a lot warmer than nothing at all. “Let’s go talk,” he soothed as he was soon leading you off to somewhere. 

Xxx

Taehyung had taken you to a small, secluded part of the royal gardens where you’re not usually allowed.  Only royals are allowed beyond a certain point and the select few of servants who care for the garden.  Shrubs and bushes of healthy, green color.  Rows of flowers lining the cobblestone paths and marble busts of past royal rulers.  A small fountain at the center off all the intermingled paths of stone. 

He watched you look around and fidget with your fingers.  You were currently disobeying a number of rules at the moment. Leaving your room without permission, not being properly supervised, wearing the prince’s robe, entering a restricted garden where servants aren’t allowed.  Your mind couldn’t keep up with everything that’s happened in such a short burst of time.  

Taehyung pulled you along with him until he sat you down on a stone bench near the fountain before he sat next to you.  He sat in silence for a moment as you continued to fidget. He was slouched back, looking up at the color changing sky as the windy blew in small wisps.  He hoped his robe was enough to keep your warm. 

“I ended up asking my attendant about you, you know?” He started.  He could practically feel you stiffen next to him. “I learned a lot about you from him and learned why you do what you do. Though, I have a lot of questions to ask you about it personally.” He felt you moved beside him, taking out your notepad to write on it before you were tapping on his thigh. 

‘Are you angry about it? What you learned?’ 

“No,” he shook his head. “Or maybe I am, but not with you.” He sighed as he brought his chin down to look at the fountain. “I heard that you were sold to my father when you were a child and that the first thing he did was slap you in restraints. That is what I am angry about.” 

‘So, you know what my restraints are for?’ Your notepad asked him before he was looking down at your lap. Your fingers were trembling, but something told him it wasn’t because of the morning chill.  You were scared.  It was clear that you were isolated from your fellow servants because the knowledge of your magic wasn’t exactly a well kept, royal secret.  

“Yes, I know you’re a sorceress, Y/n.”  You ducked your head, tucking your chin into your chest in shame as you just wished to fade away and disappear with the wind.  It wasn’t your fault you were born like this and it wasn’t your fault that everyone thought you were some kind of tumor to be removed from society.  

Everything was taken from you since you were a child and it wasn’t your fault.  You slowly wrote before handing him the notepad again. 

‘I am sorry,’ you apologized. Taehyung’s slouched figure straightened before he was taking the notepad and setting it on the ground on top of the cobblestone and out of your reach.  Your eyebrows shot up as you went to go and reach for it before Taehyung was off the bench and kneeling in front of you. He grabbed your hands, stopping your attempts to retrieve your book back. 

“Y/n, I don’t want you to apologize for something my family did to you.” His voice was stern as he forced you to look at him as he spoke on his knees in front of you.  “It is my father and his awful rules against sorcery that put you right here, right now. It is in no way your fault, you were born with your magic- you can’t just get rid of it or outgrow it.” Your eyes didn’t move from his. You weren’t sure how, but he knew how you felt about it and he was putting to ease all your anxieties. “Listen to me, I want to do something. I have things I want to do that involve you- things I want to do to protect you.” 

You furrowed your brows as he let go of your hands and reached up to your face.  He traced around the edges of your mask. You reflexively reached up to hold it, keeping the straps behind your ears even if you knew it wouldn’t fall off.  You couldn’t take it off, no one could but His Majesty to your knowledge. Taehyung smiled up to you. 

“I have a request, and by the end of our conversation this morning, I’d like for you to answer me properly. Is that alright, Y/n?” You simply nodded to him.  He placed his hands over your own that were held up by your ears. “I heard that both your gauntlets and anklets are suppressors, and that this mask is also one. When you told me that the king hates your voice, you were talking about your magic, yes?” You nodded again. “Alright, then you also know that you’re unable to take your mask off.” 

You felt dumb just nodding to him. But it is all you could do. With him blocking your path to your notepad on the ground and his hands holding yours in place by your ears, you had no other choice but to nod or shake your head in response to his questions. 

“Only royal blood can remove your mask,” his tone suddenly changed.  It was short and quiet as opposed to his earlier stern monologue.  “If that is true, then I can take this mask off of you.” Your eyes widened.  “If that’s possible, I’m going to try. I’m going to pull this mask off and I want to hear your voice. I want to see your face, I want to know what you sound like and what you look like when you smile.” 

You felt him let go of your hands as he moved his fingers behind your ears.  You felt his fingertips feather around the shell of your ear before they hooked under your mask’s straps. Your breath halted.  

“When I remove this, I want you to call for me,” he instructed you. You didn’t even nod to him that time.  Just remained breathless and still. The sensation of him pulling your mask over your ears and away from your cheeks was odd.  It felt like static as you could physically feel something coming back to you. Your throat felt warm and your cheeks tingled with feeling.  Like something was being returned to you.  

When your mask was pulled from your mouth and away from your face, the wind picked up. The morning chill being blown away as a warm, summer breeze fell in place to comfort your bare face. You ducked your head away from his eyes. Taehyung took your mask before he placed it behind him, joining it with the notepad on the cobblestone before he lifted his hands back to cup your cheeks. 

Your cheeks were soft and warm. They pushed under the pressure of his hands as he lifted your chin to look at him. When your eyes met his again your face flushed and he could see the red hue that crept onto your skin under his hands. He smiled at you the moment the sun started to breach the horizon now. 

“Memorizing,” he told you. “Now, call for me.” He watched your pink lips open and close, unsure on how to do it. What to do and then the anxieties set in again. You haven't used your voice in so long. What did it sound like now? Would it be weak and hoarse? No, surely not.  Your throat was warm and smooth and you felt something magical in the absence of your mask. “It’s alright,” Taehyung soothed. “It’s just us here, just try.” 

He watched you stick your tongue out to lick at your dry lips before you opened your mouth again. He felt your jaw move under his hands and your cheeks hollow out at your lips unsure movements. Your chest inflated as you took a breath in. 

“Um,” the small noise that came out of your mouth made Taehyung jump as his fingertips pushed into your cheeks further.  Trying to urge you to speak, he just nodded as you tried again. “Prince Taehyung?” You whispered in a small, adorable voice.  

Taehyung’s jaw dropped before you gasped and pushed your palms against your mouth as if you had just committed a crime.  In a sense, you did.  It was a royal order that you not speak, but then again it was the prince who told you to speak in the first place after he took off your mask.  You were confused and shocked at your own choice of actually speaking again. 

“Y/n, would you consider being my lady-in-waiting?” Taehyung blurted out as your eyes bugged before he continued.  “I know it’s not proper, and that only noblewomen are assigned court ladies, but I am without an assistant and I want it to be you.” 

You had never heard of a prince asking for a woman servant to tend to him before.  It was absolutely asinine. However, when you looked at Taehyung, he really meant it.  

“Why?” Was your reply and he felt his hair stand on end at hearing your voice again. “The king would surely reject the idea.” It was so soft, like velvet to his ears.

“I will speak to him. He is my father and I will fight him on this.  He has no choice if I threaten my throne after all- it works as a last resort.”  Threatening his throne? As in threatening to not come to rule and dismissing his coronation one day in the future? That’s ridiculous! “Of course, I’d never really give up my place as crown prince, but it’s a good bargaining chip.” 

“But, Madam Hana. She is my supervisor, if I-” 

“If you serve under me, she will be unnecessary.  I do not want to see her hit you anymore.” 

“My prince, I don’t know.”  It was no surprise that you were unsure about it.  It was all so sudden, not to mention all the unknown variables about such a strong choice.  “What answer do you want from me,” you whimpered as you fiddled with the fabric of your nightgown.  Taehyung ran his thumb across your cheek as he pulled his lips back into a smile.  

“Whatever answer you give me, I’ll accept it. Unlike my father, I am no bully,” he teased.  You smiled at the prince calling the king something as lowly as a ‘bully’. His time abroad seemed to have fused this childish, refreshing nature into his persona. It made you feel warm and Taehyung felt like a spring shower. 

“If I agree, would you be happy?” 

“Yes,” he answered in a heartbeat.  

“You are so sure of yourself,” you replied to his quickfire answer.  

“I am sure of you.” 

As you sat in the restricted garden of royalty, the prince of Lisha on his knees in front of you holding your cheeks in his silk pajamas with his hands that had removed your mask, you made a decision. Perhaps, it was a foolish one in the making.  It would surely anger the king and could create tension among your fellow servants.  It would undoubtedly cause Madam Hana to go into a fit. But when you thought of Akina and her support as well as your Prince Taehyung who knelt before you, all that didn't seem to matter any more. 

It felt like you were regaining a piece of freedom you were stripped of when you were young.  

“I would,” you told him.  “I would consider it, if you would allow me,” you finalized.  If being his lady-in-waiting and throwing out the standard status quo was what it was going to take to please your prince, then you’d just have to accept it and follow him.  He was the first royal to even show you a spec of kindness like his late mother did once very long ago. 

Yes, you should stick to Prince Taehyung’s side. 

[birbleafs]

[fic] a series of CATastrophic incidents

Series: Tales of Zestiria Rating: T Genre: Game-Canon, Humour Characters: Dezel, Rose, Sorey, Mikleo, Lailah, Edna, Zaveid, Alisha Diphda, Sergei Strelka, Original Characters Warnings: None, unless you’re violently allergic to cats, bad puns, and unhinged utensils Summary: He shouldn’t have been surprised, honestly. Still, nothing quite prepared him for this; he was more of a dog person, after all. Or: in which the party encounters a witch and the seraphim are turned into cats.

A/N: This started out as a joke fic an excuse to write more cute/silly party shenanigans but kind of spiralled out of hand, lol. So I guess it’s now the equivalent of a side-quest… oops? I may or may not have mixed up some events in the game timeline very slightly for creative liberties, but it’s nothing serious. Takes place in the time after the party’s arrival in Lastonbell and before the incident with Forton in Pendrago.

Fic can also be read on AO3

i. He shouldn’t have been surprised, honestly. Incidents like these—they were a norm and he should really be used to them by now. Being part of the Shepherd’s posse brought both irritability and absurdity. He was aware of this even before Rose had decided to take on the role of Squire; before she had risked her own life to save the brat from certain death after his brush with the Lord of Calamity in Glaivend Basin.

Still, nothing quite prepared him for this; he was more of a dog person, after all.

“But why cats, though?” Rose finally blurted out, incredulous. Hell, Dezel wanted to know too—who would come up with such a sick joke anyway?

“I’m not a cat!”

The small silver creature standing in the grass was scowling up at them with narrowed, violet eyes. His mouth was open, as if he were attempting to speak. But the only sound he managed was a very indignant and kittenish mewl.  

“W-What?” The silver kitten crinkled his nose, tail waving back and forth in confusion. He glanced over his shoulder, gazing at a second cat—a female with a silky white coat and a long, red-striped tail. “Why can’t I… Lailah, what’s going on?”

“Huh,” Sorey said from where he was crouched low to the ground. There was a contemplative look about him as he swept his gaze from the silver kitten to the white cat. Skulking beside his right knee was a smaller, calico-patched kitten with sky-blue eyes and a foul temper, her short tail fluffed up.  And draped casually over the Shepherd’s shoulder was yet another cat—a sleek, muscular tom, grey-striped and wearing a languid amber stare. Sorey watched the cats surrounding him for a bit longer, before he reached out tentatively to let the silver kitten sniff his fingers.

“Well, at least he didn’t turn you all into frogs,” he added unhelpfully. “Ow!” He yelped when the silver kitten nipped a finger.

“This isn’t funny, Sorey!” the kitten said, ears twitching irritably.

Before Sorey could reply, the grey tom leapt down from his perch to the grass below, splaying his claws as he stretched his long limbs out easily.

“Better a cat than a frog, eh, Mikster? Though I suppose it might have been easier if we had been turned into frogs. A kiss from one with the purest of hearts should do the trick.” The grey tom glanced up at Rose, a mischievous gleam in his eyes now. “No harm trying it out with cats too, right? How about it, Missy? Sheps here would actually be the obvious choice but since Lailah probably won’t risk sullying his purity, I’m sure we also can make do with a kiss from a fine lady such as yourself. Besides, the kid has probably reserved his kiss for that special someone.”

“Um, actually—” Sorey began hesitantly at the same time the calico kitten growled softly in her throat. Bunching up her paws beneath her, she sprang forward and aimed a swift paw-jab to the grey tom’s face that had him yowling in surprise and backing away.

“As lewd as ever even in this form,” the calico hissed as she swished her bottle-brush tail in contempt. “Just because you’re a fuzz ball now doesn’t mean you’re allowed to be gross, Grossveid.”

Rose rubbed at her nape, still confused, as she stared at the gathering of cats. “How are these cats even talking to us? It’s like I’m hearing their voices in my head and that’s creepy, just like how... Whoa, hold on a sec...” She stiffened, eyes widening as she finally caught on. “Is this kitten Edna?” She flicked her gaze back at the grey tom, who beamed and twitched his whiskers proudly up at her. “And Zaveid?!”

Dezel was already internally groaning at Rose’s slow uptake. But Sorey, ever the sunshine of their dysfunctional little band, only let out a chuckle.

“So you can hear them too, huh? And this one here is Mikleo!” He reached for the silver kitten who was still puffed up indignantly, holding up his now fluffy best friend for Rose to take a better look. “Doesn’t he look like the cutest bundle of fur now?” “Ugh, Sorey!” Mikleo the kitten groaned, struggling to bat Sorey over the nose with a paw. This time, it was Rose’s turn to laugh. “More like an overpriced fur stole, really.” “R-Rose!” Before the two could continue with their good-natured teasing, the white cat with the red tail purred, amused. She bounded up to balance herself easily on Sorey’s right shoulder, looking over at Rose and Dezel with bright eyes.

“And I take it this one here must be Lailah then,” Rose said.

“That is correct,” the Prime Lord (Prime... Cat?) nodded. “It seems that what we’ve heard from the villagers aren’t mere rumours, after all. With their apparent skill in transmutation artes, perhaps this person really is a witch.” “Great,” Dezel muttered under his breath. “This just means more work cut out for us.”

ii.

The trouble with old geezers—with old people in general, Rose thought somewhat unkindly—was how they never minded their own business. Things would’ve been simpler if he had ignored them, had left them to their own devices. But no, the old man just had stick his nose in, throwing a wrench into their plans.

(To be fair, she’d considered that perhaps he might’ve been yet another unwilling victim coerced into it. But she had also spent weeks tracking and chasing down their target, dammit. So nope, he didn’t get a free pass, unwilling victim or not!) In any case, even if the man wasn’t completely to blame, Rose felt at times the odds just weren’t in their favour. After all, Sorey—and now Rose, by association—tended to have the odd luck of attracting unwanted attention, from both meddlesome and honest humans alike.

She groaned, placing a hand at her hip while the other pinched the space between her eyes. It had to be the darn Shepherd’s cloak—of course Sorey was going to stick out like a sore thumb everywhere, clad in such conspicuous designs. That and probably that ridiculously boyish but radiant smile, over-bright like the sun. Sorey’s earnestness didn’t always impress unctuous politicians and battle-hardy soldiers like it usually did with civilians. But they’d always assumed the Shepherd to be an ingenuous young man at first, only to realise belatedly how discerning he could actually be.

Unfortunately in this case, the old geezer wasn’t too quick on the pickup. Sorey wasn’t quite ready to dismiss the old man’s pleas of There you are, I’ve searched all over for you!, but he’d realised something didn’t quite add up when he exchanged a brief glance with her.

“Oh,” Sorey said, looking back over at the old man, who was now bowing fervently before them. “Do you both know each other?”

Rose didn’t miss the flicker of uncertainty in those grey eyes, or the way the old man fiddled nervously with the hem of his tunic. She sighed, before meeting Sorey’s gaze once more with the tiniest of smirks.

“A-ah, yes! We do!” the old man stuttered, a little too quickly and too loudly. “Yes, of course we know each other—why would you think otherwise?! I-I mean, he’s my grandson, who’s now the blacksmith’s apprentice! We had a… fight and he went missing and…” He faltered, staring blankly first at Sorey, and then at Rose. As though he’d abruptly lost his train of thought.

Or as though he’d forgotten the rest of his scripted lines.

Rose stifled back a chuckle. She flicked her gaze back at the boy she and Sorey had chased through the streets earlier, down to the corner of this alley. The blacksmith’s apprentice, huh? Now she was sure the old man was lying. She was no stranger to Coram and his forge; the blacksmith traded regularly with the Sparrowfeathers for metal and coal. And being the loquacious sort, he never had any qualms filling her in with the latest village gossip and updates in his life. So she would have heard if Coram had gotten an apprentice. And even she hadn’t, the boy’s hands were too smooth, his nails too polished for one who supposedly laboured for hours with fire and metalwork.

“An apprentice?” she said, eyebrows raised in feign surprise. She made no attempt to move from her spot however, keeping the boy cornered against the brick wall. “Never heard of Coram taking in someone new. But let’s just assume you’re telling us the truth and that you’re able to describe ol’ Smithy and his forge. If you can do that, then I might just buy it and let you go.”

There was a tensed silence and— Rose caught a flash of movement from the corner of her eyes. The old man lunged clumsily forward, hands flailing out in an attempt to grab her, but Rose was already sidestepping away nimbly—only to realise too late that the old man hadn’t been trying to pin her down, and was instead attempting to divert her attention.

Oh, crap, the kid!

She turned and saw Sorey rushing to her side, sword raised.

“Rose, Sorey—get back!” was the last thing she heard before she felt a gush of wind surrounding them. There was a loud rumbling noise and they were both knocked off their feet by a fierce blast of magic.

Rose skidded against the ground, coughing as dirt and dust settled around them. Blinking, she saw Dezel standing tall before her, his arms outstretched to keep the shield he’d raised with his artes intact.

“You all right?” he snapped. “Alive and kicking,” she said, wincing when she felt a twinge from a bruise on her arm. “Where’s Sorey?”

“I’m okay,” Sorey managed, after a fit of coughing. He was struggling back up to his feet, using his sword as a brace. Rose blinked again, rubbing the last of the dust out from her eyes with her hand. She swept her gaze around, before letting out a choice curse.

“ Can't believe they got away so easily. Dammit!”

“That’s not the only problem we have either,” Dezel growled stiffly, ten times more grim-faced than he normally was. Which was really saying something. Just as she was about to ask what he’d meant, she felt something brush past her shins. She jumped, one hand already curled around the hilt of her dagger, only to pause in confusion when she saw a smallish calico-patched bundle dashing away from her.

“What the heck?” she gaped, as the creature (a cat?) hid itself behind Sorey’s ankles and scowled back at her with bright blue eyes. It was then Rose noticed three more cats clustered around Sorey.

When she’d finally cottoned on to what exactly had happened—the boy who was the rumoured “witch” causing trouble all around the village, had struck out them with a cloud of arte, effectively transforming all the seraphim (save Dezel) into cats—all Rose could do was to stare blankly at her companions.

An awkward pause, and then—

“You’ve got to be kitten me, right?” was all she could manage, confounded as she were. To which Dezel only visibly winced, while somewhere from within her mind, Rose heard Lailah chuckling gleefully, “Aw, Rose, you’re getting to be a-meow-zing at these!”

iii.

“And so that’s how it went!” Rose said, almost too cheerfully, hands placed firmly on either side of her hips.

“Oh, I-I see…” Alisha said hesitantly. Her brows were furrowed in concentration, as she tried to make sense of what had just been shared with her. Mikleo couldn’t really blame the Princess Knight for any doubt she might harbour at their story. After all, it wasn’t every day that humans—let alone human-like seraphim—were transformed into talking animals. Mikleo waved his bushy tail, his poise graceful as he balanced himself on Sorey’s left shoulder. He met Alisha’s gaze with sombre eyes. “I know it sounds really out of it, especially when coming from Rose—” “Hey!” Rose scowled.

“—but that’s honestly how we ended up as cats,” Mikleo finished. Alisha only continued to stare wordlessly at him, still frowning slightly. Before Mikleo could speak again, she abruptly reached forward with both hands and lifted him away from Sorey’s shoulder. “H-Huh? Alisha?!” Mikleo yowled, surprised.

“Oh, but aren’t you just the sweetest looking kitten!” Alisha cooed, pulling Mikleo closer into a crushing embrace. “Your coat has such a brilliant shine to it. And your tail! It’s the fluffiest tail I’ve seen, it’s oh so adorable!” She stroked her hand over Mikleo’s soft pelt, marvelling at the silvery sheen.

“Well, I totally did not see that coming,” Rose said, as she nudged Lailah (who was curled around her shoulder) gently. “So I guess Princess Alisha isn’t quite able to hear you guys speak, now that you’re stuck as cats?”

“Well, it probably isn’t simply because we’ve been transformed into cats per se,” Lailah said. “But just as humans with low resonance cannot perceive or speak with seraphim, it seems our voices in cat-form cannot reach them either. For some reason, they are only able to perceive us visually in our altered-forms, hence why to them, we’re perhaps no different than your average alley cat...”

“I’m not an alley cat—mmr-ow-ow!” Mikleo protested heatedly, before dissolving into kittenish squeaks when Alisha delightfully embraced him once more.

“And due to their lower resonance, it’ll only sound like a normal cat meowing when you try speaking to them—is that it?” Sorey asked, his eyes bright with understanding now.

Lailah nodded. “More or less, yes.”

At Sorey’s words, Alisha paused in her fervent cuddling of cute furry things. “Cats trying to speak? What do you mean…?” She echoed, looking over the cats around them. “Are you saying these cats are actually cat seraphim—oh! Is that cat Lady Lailah?” Her eyes widened and her face flushed a bright pink, confusion quickly turning into mortification as she held up the silver kitten before her again for a better look. “And is this kitten Seraph Mikleo?! Oh, I-I’m so, so sorry for my unforgivably rude behaviour!”

Sorey could only offer a weak laugh by way of explanation. “Guess the cat’s out of the bag then. Um.”

Dezel grimaced, his expression twisted into equal parts exasperation and resignation as he folded his arms. “Dammit, not you too.”

(Mikleo could’ve sworn though, that Lailah was bursting with motherly pride for her Shepherd as she said, “Oooh, it wasn’t as punstatic but good try, Sorey—six points for effort!”)

iv. “We appreciate the help, but you don’t have to escort us all the way, Sergei,” Sorey said, offering an apologetic smile to the burly knight walking beside him. “I don’t wish to add to your troubles when you already have so many responsibilities to see to.”

The Captain of the Platinum Knights only shook his head in a dignified manner. “Oh, but I must insist, Shepherd Sorey. After all, I cannot ignore these disturbances that have been repeatedly brought to our attention—it is my duty to see to the source of the people’s worries. Caladan is located in a very rural area bordering the forest and news beyond that of daily trade and domestic grievances from the village seldom reaches the Capital. So it’s a cause for concern when we hear talk of suspicious behaviour outside of the norm, especially when there’s been talk of serial murders in Lastonbell as well.” Rose grinned, beaming at Sergei. “Spoken like a true knight of the people! I can already see you and Princess Alisha getting along well enough.” She nodded at Sorey. “And it might actually do us good to have additional help. This one’s been a pretty slippery case, being a witch and all.”

“A witch?” A contemplative crossed the Captain’s face. He cast a furtive glance over his shoulder and at the herd of cats trailing after them. “I caught brief mentions of it from the aides of a diplomatic party passing through the village this morning, but I had not given it much thought then, thinking it was only fantastical rumours. So, if I understand it right—the, ah, feline cortège that’s accompanying you now? Are they actually your seraphim partners, Milady Rose?”

“Feline cortège?” Zaveid snorted, flicking his tail. “Ol’ Cap here sure is the very model of an upstanding citizen, isn’t he? Guess it’s a good coincidence we ran into him when we did.”

“Like you’re one to talk,” Edna huffed. “What brings you here? A lone seraph wandering in a place teeming with foul humans? Seems too much of a coincidence that you’d happen to be in the same run-of-the-mill village as we did.” “You think I had planned to get turned into a cat with the rest of you? I may be many things but I ain’t that crazy!” Zaveid could hardly stifle back a guffaw, lips curved into an ingratiating smirk. “A man has his reasons, all right? Maybe I’d just wanted to stretch my legs a little. Or maybe I just needed some fresh air and fresh sights, so to speak.”

“Do you ever give a straight answer?” Mikleo sighed, his fur already prickling with irritation. It was hard not to feel vexed, especially when Zaveid seemed all too keen on being as vexing as possible. “Or do you just enjoy speaking in riddles?”

And true to his needling nature, Zaveid only chuckled, his whiskers twitched in utmost amusement. “What’s the matter, Mik-boy? I thought kits like you adored riddles.”

Mikleo bristled and would have retorted back with something rude, but Dezel abruptly moved then. The wind seraph darted past the bickering seraph-cats, growling sharply, “Cut the chatter! We’ve got company!”

There was sudden shift in the atmosphere around them; Mikleo felt his whiskers tingling with danger.

Rose was already falling into a defensive stance beside Sorey, daggers drawn and ready. Sergei swept a narrowed gaze around them, sizing up the surly-looking bandits—all eight of them—who had silently appeared from all sides of the deserted path to surround them in a tight circle.

“What is the meaning of this?” the knight demanded. “As Captain of the Platinum Knights, I command you to put away your weapons now.”

The bandits didn’t flinched, but only raised their axes higher as they stepped closer, their eyes wide and glazed as if mesmerized.

“We have no quarrel with you, Captain,” said the leader, his weathered face a network of jagged scars. “But the lad and the girlie? Cursed by the gods, they are. He said they would come and stir up trouble. Said we needed to stop them, foretold as it were by the gods.”

“This isn’t good. There are traces of an arte imprinted upon these men. Someone has woven illusions or tampered with their minds.” Sorey could hear Lailah’s worry as she spoke. “Already I can sense a strong domain coming from somewhere ahead and I’m almost certain it’s the witch. We need to act quickly.”

“You’re saying that their minds have been somewhat possessed and they were sent here to stall us?” Rose clicked her tongue in annoyance. “Great, just what we needed. First talking seraph-cats and now zombie bandits!” She turned towards one of the bandits—a youngish lout with a patch over one eye—who had crept up from her right flank. She frowned, holding up a dagger so that the serrated blade would be angled right across his face if she’d chosen to strike him then. An effective warning. “Back off, kid, if you still want to be able to see out of that remaining eye. Do you seriously think you guys are a match for a captain of the military and the Shepherd’s posse?”

The one-eyed youth curled his lip into a snarl, revealing rows of crooked teeth. “You don’t scare us with your fancy words and titles. All we see here is an old fogey, a wench who runs her mouth, and a boy playing dressed-up hero!”

“We don’t wish to hurt you,” Sorey said, even as he kept his guard up. “So please, stand down and let us through or we will fight you.”

The man with the scarred face let out a raspy laugh, before he spat at the ground inches away from Sorey and countered derisively, “Says you and what army, laddie?”

“He does not need an army for one as disrespectful as you!” Sergei cut in, heatedly drawing his sword now. “Allow me to fight alongside you, Shepherd Sorey! With your beloved wife and your seraph team!”

“Wife??” echoed the one-eyed youth, flicking his gaze incredulously from Rose to Sorey. “You mean you’re married?”

“Well—” Sorey began, looking as nonplussed as he did.

“Congratulations, then! When’s the baby due?”

“Oh! Um, thank… you?” The Shepherd paused and frowned, head angled in confusion. “Wait, what baby?”

“WHAT team?” Scar-face roared, glowering angrily at the one-eyed youth for derailing the conversation. He stared past the trio, his eyes searching before he spotted four furry creatures glaring up at him from where they stood clustered around Sorey’s heels. He snorted. “What, you mean these wild cats? Seriously?”

“Well, you guys do still have Dezel,” Zaveid murmured to no one in particular, “who fortunately isn’t a cat—”

“We’re wasting time like this,” Dezel snarled, his patience finally snapping. “Sorey, armatize with me!”

“Huh? But we don’t really need to...”

“We’ll go easy on them—don’t look at me like that; I swear, nothing too brutal. Come on! Or are you just going to dawdle and let the witch get away again?”

Sorey considered his options, exchanged a quick glance with Lailah and then nodded at his wind seraph.

“All right, let’s go. Lukeim Yurlin!”

Clad now in a raiment of white, embellished gold and green, Sorey leapt to the sky. With a twist of his body, he conjured up a blast of wind to sweep over the bandits, effectively stunning them and knocking them off their feet.

v.

The sun was already hanging low in the dim orange sky by the time they had put enough distance between themselves and the bandits.

“Is it really all right to leave them as they are?” Sorey asked, his expression set in worry and a touch of guilt. “Those men were only acting viciously because they’d been mesmerized—shouldn’t we try to break the witch’s spell first? They might cause trouble for the other villagers too.”

“It seems they were only mesmerized to fight and stall us specifically. If that were the case, then I doubt they would cause any real harm to anyone else.” Edna yawned languidly, flashing a pink tongue over razor-sharp teeth. Now that she was stuck as a kitten, she (and to an extent, Mikleo, even though he loathed to admit it aloud) had trouble keeping up with the humans’ wider strides. So she’d decided it was easier to hitch a ride instead—with a smug grin at her intended victim and three easy leaps, she had settled herself comfortably on top of Dezel’s hat. The wind seraph had protested vehemently at first, but made no real attempt to remove her.

“Edna’s right,” Lailah said. “And the sooner we get to the witch’s domain, the sooner we can stop him and break his spell, both the ones he’d casted on the bandits and us.”

The party trudged on, guided by Lailah as she scented the air for signs of the witch’s domain she had felt earlier. She couldn’t find any lingering trace however, even after they had scouted around for an hour.

“I apologize, Shepherd Sorey, Milady Rose,” Sergei said at length, bowing deeply to the pair. “But I’m unable to continue any further with you. I’m needed to supervise the patrol at the south eastern borders outside of Caladan tonight. I hope you will not begrudge my leave and I pray your quest still goes well.”

“Hey, it’s no biggie, Captain!” Rose said cheerfully. “Duty calls, after all. Just leave the witch-hunting to us. We’ll take care of it in no time.”

Once Sergei had taken his leave, the party continued their search. The hustle and bustle of the day soon faded; the villagers were slowly retreating into their homes for the night. Sorey pressed forward, however, not ready to give up just yet. They ventured away from the village centre and out to a clearing near the wooded area. The path was barren, with weeds peeking out under a stone slab or two.

And just beyond them was what looked to be a large, abandoned house. Glass shards and broken wood littered the front porch where the windows had been smashed in and there was a gaping hole in the roof.

“Okay, no, no, nope,” Rose declared flatly, digging her heels firmly into the ground. “There is no hecking way am I stepping anywhere near that building.”

Sorey swallowed, dread nestling within his gut. But there was another familiar sensation there as well—an unsettling weight pressed painfully against his chest.

“I can sense malevolence seeping out from within.” He studied the dusty path before them again and pointed. “Look, there are footsteps leading inside; that may be where the witch is hiding out.”

Rose wrapped her arms around herself and visibly shuddered. "Are you kidding me? This is a legit set-up for the worst possible scenario. Dark ominous clouds ahead? Check. Full moon hanging right above us? Check. Bats screeching to the backdrop of eerie canine howling in the distance and my hair standing on end? Check, check, and check."

Lailah bounded up to Rose’s shoulder, brushing against her face gently in reassurance. “It’s likely there are only hellions lurking inside. This domain isn’t immensely strong, which might explain why this atmosphere feels more like the frightening sort that humans would associate with haunted buildings.”

“Or it could, you know, just actually be ghosts too,” Edna added unhelpfully. “S-So ghosts are real?!!”

Mikleo stared reproachfully at the calico kitten. “Stop scaring Rose already; it's not helping at all.” He ignored Edna’s smirk as she stuck a petulant tongue out at him, and turned towards the Squire instead. “Think of it this way, Rose: the sooner we purify the witch hiding inside, the faster we can break the spell and turn things back to normal. And if any… uh, paranormal monster attacks, just... well, just get stabby like you always do. We may be cats now, but you can still count on us to back you and Sorey up—we promise.”

“Okay, fine. Now you're speaking my kind of language!” Rose gave a weak but relieved laugh, even as she kept her daggers within easy reach. “I-I can roll with that, yeah! All right, let's go kick some hellion butts.”

The gloom within the house was far more daunting once they’d entered. Rose paled for a moment but pressed on, jaw set in grim determination. She and Sorey flanked each other, with Mikleo balanced on Sorey’s shoulder and Lailah on Rose’s. Dezel kept close behind them, while Edna and Zaveid took point and led the way as they moved cautiously down the dark hallways and past empty rooms.

It wasn’t long before they encountered the first wave of hellions—dusk bats and dirt leeches—which they easily made short work of. Sorey had purified the last bat when there was a scuffling noise ahead, the sound of scrambling footsteps.

“Over there!” Dezel growled, swinging his pendulums out towards the sound. Lailah conjured up a ball of flame to illuminate the way and they caught sight of a huddled form crouched in the shadows. The figure—the same boy they had cornered earlier that day— glared at them from under his hooded cloak, his eyes the icy-blue of frost and winter gale. He clasped his palms together, murmuring a string of spells.

“Ncewmevb Boks!”

Abruptly, Lailah’s conjured flame flickered and fizzled out, and the party was plunged into complete darkness. There was spine-chilling rush of wind, the disembodied whisper of a voice right beside Rose’s ear and—

"GYEEAAH!!" Rose shrieked, jabbing her fists forward on instinct. She felt her punch connect with something furry at the same time as she elbowed someone else in the gut beside her. “Yeoowwch—!” “—Hyeargh!”

Both Dezel and Zaveid grunted in pain just as Lailah quickly conjured another ball of flame. “Brace yourselves, everyone!” Sorey warned, raising his sword to counter another rush of attack—only to glance down in surprise at what looked to be a demonic porcelain tea set lunging towards him. A tea cup flung itself forward, smashing and breaking pathetically against his chest while he batted his sword at a screeching teapot hell-bent on scalding him with boiling-hot liquid.

"What are these things?" Mikleo hissed, swiping his claws at a particularly stubborn tray with a fanged maw. “Lailah, are these even hellions?!”

Beside him, Edna only let out a resigned sigh, and very casually dodged a set of dinner knives flying her way. "Well, they sure are a pathetic excuse of a hellion, if that’s the case.” “Oh dear,” the Prime Lord mused, seemingly unperturbed by the possessed crockery assailing them now. An oversized cauldron hovered before her, threatening to ooze a sickly purple mess over its brim. “It has just been a series of CAT-astrophic incidents, hasn’t it? And now with KIT-chenware too!”

A collective groan sounded from her companions, but Lailah only giggled, a glimmer in her eyes. “Nothing a little spring-cleaning can’t fix!” She sidestepped the cauldron and released a burst of fiery spheres back at the marauding utensils.

“Ugh, this is even freakier than those floating bison heads!” Rose whined, whirling as she and Zaveid parried blows from a giant, spiked rolling pin trying to flatten them all like dough while Dezel wrangled it down with his pendulums.

“This is getting ridiculous!” Mikleo yowled, avoiding the snapping jaws of a deranged goblet before it crashed into the wall. He was backed into the corner and hadn’t noticed the figure hidden in the shadows...

“Mikleo, look out!” Sorey leapt ahead, pushing the silver kitten to safety just as the witch moved. There was a blinding flash—they dodged swiftly, the force of the witch’s arte only grazing Sorey’s shoulder. The blaze of magic rebounded off a pillar in a wild arc and struck the rafters above them instead. The crumbling wood would have crushed the witch then—who stood rooted in fear as he stared upwards—but Sorey was already lunging forward again, twisting his body to shield the boy from the falling debris, before a number of stray pieces caught him sharply by the back of the head.

He gasped as white-hot pain shot down his spine and crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

vi. His head was still throbbing when Sorey finally came to, the edges of his vision slowly coalescing into focus. Mikleo and Lailah—still bewhiskered and feline—were peering over him anxiously, sparks of healing artes trailing from their stretched paws over him.

“Look, it’s not my fault he got knocked out,” a child’s voice said from a little way off. “What kind of Shepherd is he anyway, keeling over so easily?”

“You dropped practically half a ceiling on him!” Rose countered hotly.

“Two wooden planks and half a brick, actually,” Zaveid corrected, only to falter when Rose shot a dark look his way.

“Is everyone okay? O-ow...” Sorey winced as he sat up, carefully rubbing the sore bump at the back of his head. “What’s going on with Rose and the others?”

“We’re fine,” Mikleo assured him, before heaving a sigh. “Still stuck as cats though, as you can see.”

“And it seems that we have mistaken this source to be malevolence from the witch, but… Perhaps you can explain it better, Almanakh.” Lailah nodded at the small blue normin who had approached them.

“I owe you some thanks, Shepherd,” the normin said as she bowed stiffly, “for protecting Atreides earlier. But all the same, you ought to stop bullying him too. Hmph.”

“Bullying him? Your little witch boy is the one causing havoc around the village!” Dezel growled tersely.

“Atreides might be a handful at times, but he’s still only a child,” Almanakh continued. “One doesn’t have many companions when living on the streets; he was abandoned by the orphanage who’d housed him as a toddler for possessing ‘the Sight’ and was shunned by other street urchins as well. He himself did not understand at first why other humans couldn’t see us, the spiritual beings that periodically crossed paths with them.”

“So he has the resonance to perceive seraphim too,” Sorey mused. “Did you also form a pact with him? That’s why he’s able to cast spells and artes, right?”

“Hey, don’t pick on Almanakh,” Atreides abruptly cut in. Sorey turned, meeting the haughty gaze of the raven-haired boy; he did not sense any trace of malevolence in the child.

Atreides fingered the hem of his cloak nervously, but still jutted his chin out in slight defiance. “Almanakh’s the only one who was willing to teach me things whenever I asked. I’m not so illiterate either that I can’t pick up a thing or two about magic from the books she’d stole—um, shown me.” He paused, his lips curved into the tiniest of smirks as he crouched to pinch at the normin’s cheek. “And you stuck around because you actually like me, don’t you, Almanakh? Can’t blame you—I am rather charming for a street-urchin.”

Almanakh shrugged, swatting her paws at Atreides’ casual prodding. “Nonsense. I just really like meat-pies and you’re great at stealing them. Ours is simply a bond of mutual convenience.”

“Mutual convenience, right.” Rose shook her head, before grinning back at Sorey and the others. “Not so different from your standard friendship then. In all seriousness though, can you please remove the spells you’d put on my friends and on those people you’d mesmerized?”

“Why the bandits though?” Atreides said breezily. “If they’re mesmerized forever trying to fight you all, that’ll keep them from preying on innocents.”

“...And what kind of rationale is that?! Mind-control without permission isn’t any better!”

“Atreides,” Almanakh admonished. “Remember, favours should always be returned for karmic luck.”

The raven-haired boy grimaced, puffing his cheeks out but didn’t protest. He turned to Sorey again, staring owlishly at the Shepherd for a moment, and asked, “Why did you protect me when the arte rebounded? I turned your seraphim into cats, and the villagers have already branded me a witch. I’m one of the ‘bad guys’, after all.”

Sorey brushed the side of his jaw with a finger as he considered his words. “To be honest, I’m not too sure myself. But you had looked terrified when the rafters collapsed. You’re just a kid, like Almanakh said, so I couldn’t just stand by and watch.”

“You could’ve easily stopped me and broken the spell if you had let the debris hit me.”

“Maybe. But even so, I didn’t want to judge you based on rumours alone—I wanted to hear your side of the story too.” Sorey offered the boy a sheepish grin. “And in the end, we still managed to stop you this way too.”

Atreides frowned, ice-blue eyes still narrowed suspiciously. “...You really are a strange person, you know?”

“Er—” Sorey began, but Atreides’ lips were pulled into a wry half-smile now. He held a hand out, helping the injured Shepherd climb shakily back to his feet.

“My skills in transmutation and mind-charming artes are rudimentary at best; the effect usually wears off in a day or two. So your seraphim will return to their usual forms by sundown tomorrow and the bandits back to whatever it is that bandits do during their spare time when they aren’t terrorizing wayward travellers.”

“And the hellions here?” Rose asked, glancing warily around them.

“Merely illusions that I had conjured to fool the senses—the demonic kitchenware, the malevolence. This is just your regular abandoned house with regular ghosts, I suppose.”

“S-so ghosts are real then?!”

“This chit-chat’s been nice and all,” Edna cleared her throat suddenly, her expression flat and signalling extreme boredom. “But what are we going to do about the boy? Do we just let him be as he is? He’s not corrupted by malevolence now, but life on the streets is tough and he has been troubling many of the villagers.”

“Even if you guys don’t do anything, the esteemed Captain of the Platinum Knights might someday be forced to,” Zaveid added.

“A kid’s got to eat,” Atreides said defensively. “And it’s easier to steal using artes.”

Sorey sighed, feeling a sudden twinge of sadness at a fleeting memory of a girl and her dog; at how sometimes resonance could easily be as much a burden of loneliness as a gift of camaraderie. Edna and Zaveid were right of course, but Atreides had a point too. “It’s true we can’t just leave him like this, but Atreides has only been trying to survive living on his own too…”

“Oh, that’s right!” Rose chimed, hitting her fist into her palm, blue eyes bright with an idea. “All right, leave this to me—I know exactly who can help.” She grinned widely at the boy. “You guys like money, don’t you?”

Atreides exchanged a glance with his normin, brows quirked questioningly. “I’d like to feel rich sometimes, yes.”

vii. “I have to say, Rose, you really do come up with some of the best solutions,” Lailah said, seated comfortably around Rose’s shoulders.

They had visited Coram the blacksmith in his forge first thing in the morning. After some convincing and the promise of free batches of the Sparrowfeathers’ mabo curry buns, Coram agreed to take Atreides under his wing as an apprentice.

“He’ll never admit it, but ever since Coram’s lost his Emery to the sickness all those years, he’s been a little lonesome.” Rose explained, slowly making her way up the steps to the inn room they’d booked for the day. “So I thought having Atreides around as his apprentice might help with that. It’s not exactly a get-rich-quick scheme, but Atreides will at least have a place to stay. And if he’s serious about making a change, Coram’s willing help with Atreides’ education too.”

“All in all, a happy ending,” Lailah purred. “Let’s hope things will work out well for both of them.”

“I wonder if Sorey’s feeling better,” Rose said, carefully pushing the door open to peek inside their room.

The soft wooden creak stirred Sorey from his sleep, and he blinked, turning towards the sound. “Is that you, Rose, Lailah? How did everything go?” he said, yawning. His head was wrapped in bandages but it didn’t ache as much as it had before. Dezel was standing by the window, gazing at the scenery outside, but the other seraphim—still in their cat forms—had curled up around their Shepherd, dozing lightly: Mikleo was curled into a ball over Sorey’s chest, his long, silvery tail covering his nose, while Edna had draped herself comfortably on Sorey’s pillow just above his head; Zaveid was all stretched out on his side and snoring noisily over Sorey’s knees.

It was a sight enough to draw soft laughter from Rose. She shook her head when Sorey made to move slightly, as though to offer her the bed instead.

“I’ll be fine here, really,” she said, settling into the couch by the bed. It was a bit dusty, but she’d rested on harder surfaces before while on Scattered Bones missions. “And yup, things are all settled between Coram and Atreides, so we’ll just hope for the best. We’ve done all we could, after all. So don’t worry! You just rest that head of yours and we can be back on our way searching for more of those shiny orb thingamajiggies.”

Sorey laughed, green eyes bright despite the fatigue lining his face. “Thank you, Rose. I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you sometimes. I’m grateful to have all of you with me.” He turned towards the dozing seraph-cats sharing his bed, lifting a hand to brush gentle fingers through Mikleo’s soft fur.

Rose only snorted, rubbing a knuckle playfully against Sorey’s cheek. “Likewise! I’m glad I have you guys around too,” she said, beaming first at Lailah’s bashful smile and then at Dezel, who merely grunted, his back still turned as his resolutely kept his gaze out the window. She yawned then, exhaustion finally catching up to her and stretched back against the couch for some much needed rest.

“The Shepherd taking down a witch and berserk kitchenware with only a Squire and an army of seraph cats,” she murmured with a sleepy grin. “Now that’s a side to the legend you don’t hear about every day.”

  —End— ________

- Ncewmevb Boks: “Whirling Gust” in Ancient Tongue, an arte that sends a strong rush of wind in circles. It forms spiralling wind blades that can injure foe, but Atreides being young and untrained, is still unable to control and fully utilize it yet.

- Listen, all the side-quests involving kids in the game left me emotionally compromised, okay. Let me have ONE silly, cracktastic side-quest with a kid who got a happier ending at least aghdjjhsdkg.

- Thanks for reading and #sorey not sorey for the crack/bad puns I GET WEIRD IDEAS IN THE SHOWER.