#also she sits side saddle because she's a lady

[torchwood-99]

From your Thematic Headcanon ask game:

hc + 😡 for a headcanon about something that makes them angry

I totally LOVE stuff to get angry about! And I’m having a chaotic day, so it feels fitting!

Oh yes here we go!!!!

Eomer

People who abuse women. His love for Eowyn and his inability to save his mother instilled him early on with a fierce hatred of people who mistreat women. A hatred that goes beyond rationality sometimes, if he sees someone treat their wife or daughter harshly he will act first, think later, barging in on the situation without considering the ramifications of his actions, and how his interference could cause harm. That said, in the aftermath, once his rage has cooled, he always tries to help in a constructive way as well. This results in several laws for the protection of wives, daughters and other female kin being passed in his day.

People making fun of his beard. Stealing this headcanon, @konartiste, because of his Numenorean blood, it took Eomer longer to grow a beard than his peers, and even after it grows in it's not so naturally lustrous as theirs. He spends hours trimming it and brushing it to give it volume, and he can't grow it too long because it comes in patchy.

People who mistreat horses. Needs no further elaboration.

Eowyn

Feeling boxed in, confined, mollycoddled, overlooked, underrated, left out, overworked, exploited or generally done shit by because of her sex. Not a headcanon just canon but it's such a pressure point (rightfully so) it has to be said.

Being sick. She hates being sick. Her relationship with her body is fraught, because on the one hand she has suffered from being relegated to certain roles because of her gender, with the onset of puberty in particular hailing a stronger enforcement of gender roles in her life, but through training and effort she has been able to give her body a great deal of strength and skill, and so any feeling of "weakness" causes her to feel like her body is betraying her. Her periods are actually quite irregular, but when they come they can be truly painful, and this she hates above all else. Working as a healer makes her more forgiving of her own weakness, and her marriage to Faramir, who never treats her as less because she is a woman, (and introduces her to a lot of fun stuff her body can do and feel) makes her more at peace with her sex, but her monthlies still cause her a fair bit of frustration, as it really does dredge up the worst feelings she has about sex and weakness. Her first period itself was pretty traumatic, without a mother or female relative to help her through it. With her mother and aunts all dead, and her entry into womanhood being marked with blood and pain, womanhood seems interconnected with suffering and death, and it takes her a long time to put that all into perspective.

Impractical shoes. She hates shoes that pinch or have high heels. She hates any female specific fashion that significantly impedes movement or comfort. If it's inflicted on men and women alike, she can stomach it (like high collars on formal occasions) but anything that singles women out for discomfort/lack of mobility is her sworn enemy.

Also, side-saddles. Absolutely detests them. Side-saddles at the end of the third age, beginning of the fourth age, are the ones that have women sit entirely facing the side, and give women riders significantly less control over their horse than front facing saddles. Lothiriel's time as queen sees the development of more practical side saddles, that allow women decent control over their horses, which Eowyn grudgingly accepts, but still holds in dislike. She actively fights against Rohan adopting them for widespread use, because the reasons for women riding side-saddle (to protect their chastity) is an attitude she rightfully sees as harmful to women. As a result of her influence, the side-saddle comes to be seen as a fashion accessory, to show off a lady's gown on formal or ceremonial occasions, and women for the most part ride astride for sport and day to day use.

Faramir

Intellectual debates. He says he's always up for an intellectual debate, he says he loves discussing ancient texts and laws and poetry, but in truth he can't stomach people having different ideas to him, whether it be philosophy, history, art etc... He tries to play it cool, and when someone says something wrong, he is happy to explain to them why they are wrong. But if they insist on being wrong, it sends him into a cold, hard fury. He maintains decorum in front of them, but then rants for hours to Eowyn about it afterwards. The thing is, he usually is right, and usually the people disagreeing with him are wrong and wilfully so, but nonetheless, it makes him a little tiresome. When he actually is wrong, and it's explained to him, he takes it on board with good grace. It's just most of the time, he's in the right, so it makes him come across as intolerant of other people's views.

People underestimating his wife. He knows that under Eowyn's proud veneer, she suffers from self-esteem issues, and he gets very angry at people dismissing her or overlooking her, because he knows it causes these issues to flame up. Also, he thinks she's absolutely amazing, and as we've established, he struggles with people having different opinions

He can camp out in absolutely filthy conditions, and put up with dirt and blood and grime as part of being a soldier, but at home and in court life, he likes things neat an orderly. He's actually a bit precious about his fine clothes, and if there's a smudge or a stain, it bothers him like an itch until it's sorted out. Eowyn sometimes teases him by wearing her coronet at an angle, and watching him resist the urge to straighten it for her. (She likes it when he does, because he's very gentle when he does it, and takes the opportunity to run his fingers through her hair.)

[juha-art]

the strength of conviction and the relief of doubt, shared

[spaceorphan18]

Ranking Bridgerton Season 3 Episodes

After sitting with this season the past month, I kind of wanted to see how a ranking would go (and those of you who know me, know I love a good ranking). These are 100% subjective opinions, and I don't expect anyone else to agree. More so did it out of the fun of it. :)

8. Forces of Nature (Episode 3)

I don't actually think there is a bad episode of this season. Truly. After really sitting with this season, thinking it over, even agreeing that there isn't enough Polin and some of the subplots could have been stronger (or not existed at all), I think all of these episodes are pretty stellar. But one of them had to be placed last, and after combing through all of them, it's episode 3.

There is actually a lot I like in this episode - Colin spending the whole episode pining for Pen, the ridiculous and romantic dream fantasy, the awkwardly cute willow scene, the angsty cake scene, Colin asking his mother for advice and awkwardly trying to figure his shit out, loved it. I also really enjoyed Debling and the development of that story as an alternative option for Pen.

What really bogs this episode down, and consequently pushes it to the bottom, is that it's also the culprit for braiding in all of the seemingly many subplots. I don't necessarily think any of them are bad on their own, but it feels like so much that it's too much at times.

We get Lord Kilmartin's introduction (yes, great), Lord Anderson (yeah, okay), Lady Tilly (ooff, fine), The Mondrichs (why are they here again?), the stuff with the Queen (this was just weak in general), and development of Cressida (it works in conjunction with LW, but idk if it holds up on rewatches?). It's just a lot and the main characters (unfortunately, especially Colin) get pushed a little to the side.

7. Romancing Mister Bridgerton (Episode 6)

This is the episode that when I first watched it, I straight up thought it wasn't that good. I've honestly changed my opinion on it a lot, but I do understand why I originally felt that way.

I love LOVE the first half of this episode. We get to have Pen and Colin in a little bit of a honeymoon stage -- the engagement ring scene is brilliant, everything at the church is brilliant, even the stuff at the Mondrich ball... It's truly delicious. And I love Colin just being soft with his sister and at the Mondrich bar scene. And then I do love the Lady Whistledown aspect of it -- Pen dealing with whether or not she wants to continue. There's some great Eloise stuff in here, too. And even Cressida pretending to be Whistledown was handled decently.

But, like episode 3, this episode was saddled with a ton of side plots, where the scenes just go on and on and on because they're the meat of some of these side plots. I don't know if they needed to be balanced better or parceled out better, I don't know. But the long stretches without any Polin, or much Pen or Colin in general in the second half is why this episode ended up lower.

I think the only reason it's moved up a spot is that I do love the Polin we do get more than what's in episode 3. Also, the last few moments of Colin discovering Pen is Lady Whistledown is an excellent cliffhanger.

6. Out of the Shadows (Episode 1)

I do think the season opener is solidly good! I actually really love Pen getting her transformation and the ridiculous of Colin (attempting) swagger as he comes back into town. I love that we don't beat around the bush, and the two of them really get to the heart of their issues right off the bat and it sets up the entire season really nicely. Plus, their dynamic as never sparkled any better -- it's truly a treat to see the two of them back on screen.

The rest of the episode works pretty well, too. The tension between Pen and Eloise is great -- and kicks off one of my favorite arcs of the season. Francesca's (re-)introduction is wonderful. There's some truly brilliant Bridgerton sibling stuff, as well as Anthony and Kate being on the top of their game. It's also got some breathing room as we haven't established the nineteen other plot lines going on this season (though the Mondrich stuff feels a little sluggish).

The only reason this episode is as low as it is -- is because I just like everything else more.

5. Joining of Hands (Episode 7)

It pains me to have this episode as low as it is because I love so much of it. The Polin stuff in this episode is just delicious. I love the tension after Colin finds out that Pen is Lady Whistledown. I love the brutalness of the first argument and the angst, longing, and actually working through some of their shit (as well as the spiciness) of their argument outside the Modeste.

I love that they still get married despite having unresolved conflict, and that their love transcend set backs. And that wedding dance is absolutely gorgeous.

Plus - we get some great Bridgerton in general stuff -- Eloise and Pen are on their way to repairing their relationship, Colin and Eloise get some great moments, Benedict is adorable at the 'bachelor' party, and Anthony and Kate are amazing in everything that they do (I love LOVE the scene with Kate, Anthony, and Colin).

The episode does have some weaker aspects - I don't care all that much about Violet and Lord Anderson nor Benedict and Lady Tilly (even if I'm all here for Benedict's bisexual awakening). But the subplots don't really weigh everything down as much, and it's a solidly good Polin episode.

4. Into the Light (Episode 8)

The Season Finale! I honestly toggled between episodes 7 and 8 and where they went, and I think maybe on a different day I could be persuaded to switch them, but I think what really sells me is everything from the Butterfly Ball onward. The ending is gorgeous, Pen's story wraps up brilliantly, Colin's grand speech was beautiful, the epilogue was pitch perfect, and all of the storylines work out in a great way, setting up threads for future seasons (obviously, Benedict is next but Eloise and Francesca are getting some good stuff, too.)

My only issue with the end of Pen and Colin's story is that I wanted more resolution to their story. The twenty seconds of make-up sex felt like not enough, and I do hope that they rectify this in Season 4. (Which I have a feeling they will.)

There are some really great things leading up to the ending as well -- I love that Pen and her mother kind of come to terms with each other and finally that relationship is being restored, as well as the Featherington sisters blooming into decent people. I also LOVE the reconciliation of Pen and Eloise. And while the blackmail plot could have been a little stronger (Cressida's whimper out was a little weak) I honestly love Colin's scene with Cressida. (As well as the hilarity of Portia, Eloise, and Colin being the ones to try to help Pen deal with it all.)

It's not perfect episode -- there's the seemingly never ending threeway with Benedict (as well as the fact that Benedict desperately needs next season because his character feels aimless at this point), and Francesca's wedding, while sweet, felt like it pushed Pen and Colin a little out of the limelight for a little too long in the middle. But pacing might have been the biggest issue of the episode. It's otherwise a great episode and a solid ending.

3. Old Friends (Episode 4)

So here's the thing. Here is the thing I've been really thinking about while putting this together. It's a testament to the carriage scene and, honestly, everything from the last twenty-ish minutes of this episode because without it, I'm not sure this episode would be that high. Pen and Colin get ZERO screen time together until the end (and I suppose that's somewhat intentional) you really start to feel it as the episode goes on.

But the tension of this episode is fantastic. Pen bonding with Debling, beginning to accept that this is her best option with pressure from Portia... Colin dealing with his own feelings and downward spiraling (though I do wish we had gotten more of him). It's really, really well done. And then the last twenty minutes is just solidly amazing. All of it. Fantastic. It's just captivating.

And then, of course, the carriage scene -- one of the best (possibly the best??) scenes of the entire show. I could wax poetic about the carriage scene for days...

This is another episode that does feel like it's saddled with too many subplots, and pacing issues, because they're withholding the Polin stuff until the very end and it almost feels like a trudge to get there at points. But it's well worth the wait -- and enough of an amazing payoff that I have this episode so high.

2. How Bright the Moon (Episode 2)

I just fucking adore this episode. Like so much. It is a romantic comedy at its finest with one of the most beautiful first kiss sequences I've ever seen. I love everything this episode chooses to be.

First of all, there's just so MUCH content for Pen and Colin, and we really get to see their FREINDSHIP at play here. (As well as Nicola Coughlan's amazing comedic chops - she shines in every scene here.) Everything between the two of them is brilliant and hilarious and awkward and funny and really, I could have watched a whole season of just this ridiculous rom-com trope-y stuff. Because they're both so good at it. Because it's just so delicious and wonderful.

We also get some of the best comedy of the show in the scene with Portia explaining sex to the Featherington sisters. And some truly great moments with Eloise, too. The rest of the side plots don't feel as heavy as they don't over shadow what's going on with Pen and Colin.

And then that last scene, the beautiful, fairy tale, fantasty-esque, shot like an Old Hollywood film first kiss that is truly breathtaking. This episode just wins all the things.

1. Tick Tock (Episode 5)

Like it was going to be anything else ;)

But no, here's my thing. It's not just the awkwardly beautiful ten minute sex scene of this episode that has me placing it on top. No, really, even if I think the mirror scene is incredible and breathtaking in it's own right.

This episode is solidly for Pen and Colin. And in a season that sometimes struggles to find good balance, this episode (and episode 2 really) are the only ones that really feel like the fully feature Pen and Colin, so it's no coincidence they end up taking the top spots.

The first half of the episode is just a continuation of the amazingness that is the ending of episode 4. The engagement announcement, the hilariously wonderful ABC Bros scene, Colin telling off Portia, Pen and Colin being so soft and sweet with each other during sex, the aftercare cuddling on the satee, the carriage ride.... it's all so, so good, I love it so much.

There's also some great stuff going on around Polin -- Kate and Anthony are back, Eloise has some great stuff, the Cressida plot is hitting its stride, the Queen is adding tension, the Lady Whistledown plot is getting turned up to eleven...

The second half of the episode is also incredibly strong, as it mostly takes place during the engagement party and the tension during that whole sequence is fantastic. All the little plot threads are getting pulled at in a way that works well being woven in together. It's GREAT drama and it really pushes this episode to be the season's finest hour.

This episode just works all the way through. It's got such lush, romantic Pen and Colin that I keep coming back to, some crazy tension built in to ramp up the drama, the characters all just so much fun to watch. This episode is amazing, and truly deserves to be at the top of the list.

And that's my list!! Thanks for reading!! :)

[immentallyilll]

Prevent the war

Yandere!Aemond x fem!Targeryen!reader

-Rheanyra sent reader as a messenger to Storm's End to convince Lord Borros to bend the knee, but Aemond is already there - Pairing: Yandere Aemond Targaryen x reader Targaryen  Trigger Warning: Yandere Aemond, dragon racing (i guess), fighting, threats, slapping{once}, swear words, talk of forced marriage, 

-short backstory- Reader is the fourth child of Rhaenyra and Harwin. She was included in the fight where Aemond lost his eye because he claimed Vhaegar for his own. He blames them all for his eye. Reader has a female dragon named Bantis that hatched in her cradle and they have a very strong bond (like Rhaenyra and Daemon with their dragons, I am also thinking of some sort of dark-purlpe dragon that resembles Caraxes in appearance and also size, but you can play with your imagination). Reader is a very good dragon rider and was taught how to fight to protect herself by her father Harwin and her brothers. She is known for her beauty and intelligence as well as her skill with daggers

-reader´s pov-

When you arrived at Storm's End, you expected the guards to be a little shaken by the sight of a dragon, but they stood firm. You got out of the saddle and started to walk towards the gate, but an earth-shaking roar coming from the side of the castle stopped you. There lay the monstrous Vheagar, which means that Aemond is here for the same reason you are. Millions of thoughts flashed through your mind. What if Aemond has already convinced Lord Borros about the Greens? What if there's are more of them, more dragons? What if Aemond has come to avenge his eye? By now you are at the gate and guards escort you into the hall where Lord Borros is sitting in his chair. The guards introduced you with your titles "Lord Brros, I bring you a message from Queen Rhaenyra," you confirm in a slightly trembling voice. He was quite amused and added some provocative comments, about how the house of a dragon did not know who rules it since the so-called ,,king Aegon" has sent Aemond. "What's her message?" he asked, handing one of the guards a letter from your mother. Your sight wandered through the hall and landed on Aemond, who stood there with an unreadable expression on his face. He wore a long leather coat that reached almost to his heels, and a belt from which hung a large sword Blackfyre. Aemond caught your staring gaze, but you were too focused on his handsome appearance to notice that. Aemond's towering figure seemed even more alluring and overpowering than ever. Your eyes now wandered over his face, which you were convinced was sculptured by gods. His significant jawline and prominent cheekbones. The nose and chin being the dominance of his face. You were so hypnotized by Aemond's enchanting nature that you almost forgot why you came here in the first place. But a loud voice that resounded through the room woke you up from your daydreams

“Remind me of my father´s oath?”he questioned. Now you finally realised how long you were marveling of him. Your attention was immediately fully drawn on lord Borros. He´s offended, because from his point of view, what were you to bring him a message that questions his loyalty. You had nothing to offer him, he had no son you could marry and Lucerys along with Jacaerys were already bethroted to your cousins.“So you come with empty hands, go home princess. And tell your mother that the lord of Storm´s end, is not some dog she that she can whistle up, at need to set aggainst her foes.” the lord ordered you to leave with slight anger in his voice.

"I shall thake your answer to the queen, my lord," you announced, trying not to sound disappointed, but your attempt failed thoroughly. You turn and head for the door, relieved at the thought of leaving. "Wait ... my lady Strong." Amond's voice echoed through the room, and you stopped turning to face him, anger visible on your face. "Did you really think you could just fly about the realm trying to steal my brother's throne at no cost?" You tensed, but gathered your courage and took a few steps forward. "I came as a messanger, not a warrior." But Aemond obviously had different plans, "Fight would be a little challenge." Now you actually started to worry, shifting in your place. "No. I want you to put out your eye." Asserted Aemond as he took off his eye patch to reveal the beautiful sapphire he had inserted in place of his eye. You are shocked, a little frightened by his action, but mostly angry with yourself, because the man of whose beauty you were enthralled by just a few minutes ago (who appears to be your uncle) is now the reason you are trembling because he wants to put out your eye. "As payment for mine" you are sure, if Lucerys was here instead of you, he'd be already dead. "One will serve" Aemond took a blade that was hidden under his coat and threw it among you. You looked down at it and wished that you never came here. Worry showed on your face and Aemond seemed amused by it. "I will not blind you," he said with ease, and hummed, smiling."I plan to gift it to my mother"  “No” you tried to sound as strong and fearless as you could, but in fact, it only came out as a pathetic whimper. Your fear ha staken over you. It appeared Aemond was not happy with your answer, since he stopped smirking and his jaw clenched. “Then you are a craven, as well as a traitor.” he added and his face had now no expression. “Not here” said lord Borros and your eyes widened. Was he aware of somethig or did they plan this all along? Aemond was now headed towards you, screaming ”Give me your eye or i will take it, you little bastard!” he bent down, not stopping, for the blade he trew there earlier and you instinctively took out the two daggers which were hidden under your cloak, prepared to fight even though you knew he was way more skilled. The guards were prepared to protect you, at least something positive. Aemond was getting nearer every second, with expression of a maniac.”Not in my hall.” finally, Lord Borros stopped this madness and Aemond froze in his place and grew even more angry.”The girl came as an envoy.” and he continued “ I will not have a bloodshed beneath my roof.” he defended you. Then lord Borros looked at the guards “ take princess y/n to her back to her dragon. Now” he orded, but by the look of Aemonds you knew this wasn´t over. Again, turning around you began to walk towards door while putting your daggers away.

The moment you stepped outside the castle, you ran to your dragon. Heavy rain falling from the sky, making your vision blurry. As you hurried, you looked upon where Vhaegar laid before and how lightning struck, she was no longer there and your heart sunk to the ground itself. Feeling your guts clench, tears on the verge, panic rushed over you. Bantis shared your worries and nugged her head towards your body and you rested your forehead on hers, comforting each other with this manner. There was no other choice for you, than climb on your dragon and fly home as fast as you can, because there was still Vhaegar with Aemond somewhere in the rainstorm: “Dikimarvose(focus).”  you alost screamed because of the rain muffling your voice: “Laehossa ynot, Bantis(pay attention, Bantis)”, you tried to calm her down, but more of comforting yourself. “Lykíri, ryptys!(be calm, listen!)” adding, while you climbed onto her wing and settled into the saddle. "Soves, Bantis!(fly, Bantis!)”

 She spread her wings and soared into the blizzard. Now flying through the dark night, enlightened only by lightning. Raindrops whipping your face, as were looking around yourself, convincing, that there was no monsterous dragon rode by mad dragon rider, who threatened to cut your eye out. While looking around yourself, a roaring sound rang through the heavy rain. But after a moment, hearing a loud growl above your head, was the opposite of what you wished for. You looked up, and the air left your lungs, your heart stopped beating at the sight of the giant. Lightning seems like it's calming down and Vhaegar with Aemond are no longer lingering above you but even worse. They appear right in front of you, Vhaegars jaw opening and snatching at you and Bantis. You quickly reacted by directing Bantis downwards, missing Vhaegars legs by a meter or so. Aemonds demonic laughter sounded across the air, while turning around. Aemond screamed at you "I see you." Vhaegar snatching at you, again. "Ilybonos!(bastard!)”. Now you went down again panting, as Vhaegar reached for you and Bantis with her feet claws. They were right behind you. there was no chance you could escape if you stayed under them, so you had to change your place at least, for some kind of advantage. "Aderi! Pales!(quickly!turn!)” you screamed. Bantis didn't need to be told twice, turning to the side. You were no longer high in clouds, seeing the large cliff with many gaps you and your dragon can hide, compared to Vhaegar.

You flew into a big space between the walls of a cliff, it was near the ground. Aemod with Vhaegar had to fly over the top, which was open and they could still see you so they followed you. Now you were a little further than they were, but you could still hear the psychopathic laugh from Aemond. “Jemela gelyni enka!” (you owe me a debt) Aemond yelled down at you.”Rina!” (girl!).You couldn´t see them anymore, your breath fastened. Then, Vhaegars large body appeared in front of you. You could not turn or stop, because of the speed. Bantis crashed into Vhaegars torso. She was unable to keep balance or recover quickly, which led to her falling to the ground, still with you on the back. You tried to make her settle in the air but nothing worked. gods must have prayed for you since Bantis wasn´t too high by the time she fell on the ground. She tried to soften the fall by burying her legs and wings into the ground, which seemed helpful at first, but the hard landing made her body jump. With that you fell off the saddle, rolled off on her wing and landed onto the ground. As you ,,landed” you hit your head a few times, which made you feel dizzy, but you were still conscious. Lying there, on a ground, regain your strength, panting.

Bantis is also exhausted from constant dodging, sudden descents and ascents. She huffed in tiredness, while you´re trying to come to your senses. Head still feeling woozy, as you shaked it, hoping it would help to stop the slightly blurry vision. There was a great rumble somewhere behind, the sound was layered with sea and wind. You listened to the surroundings.

You heard ponderous slow steps, Aemond is approaching you. Hearing his voice way closer than you thought, only a few feet connecting your distance. You began to get up, while he talked to you “ So you thought, that comming to storm´s end, begging for Baratheons support,trying to steel my brothers throne, will come with no punishment, Ao byka aspo?(you little bitch)”. His voice full of anger, now echoed just a few meters away from you.  Straightening up from the  one knee you used for support of your weight, you glared in direction of his voice. “ Your brother´s throne? Aegon does not deserve it. He´s nothing more is nothing more then a preverted drunk, who doesn´t even want to rule.” You gripped the handle of your dagger with your left hand as you spoke, preppared for sparring that is about to begin. “Se iksā mēre laes qogralbar”(and you are one eyed fuck). Aemonds large steps carried him to face you. Now standing straight, you draved your dagger at him, which he did not expect and just in time he brought his right forearm to yours. This movement prevented him from getting stabbed. This angerd him even more and now he lost it, gripping your chin whith his hand, almost breaking your jaw. His fingertips digging into the flesh, which you could only wince at. With a swift montion his right arm, which was till now blocking yours, clasped your left wrist with force, causing you dropped the dagger. The left one, that was crushing your jaw, is now gripping you by your hair. Which made you only hiss in pain. You kicked him in the shin, making loose his balance. But he recovered faster than you. Aemond grabbed both your arms and with the back of his leg he kicked your ankles, shoving you to the ground. 

 Aemond gripped the collar of your shirt and brought you even closer to his face.“You think these harsh words will save you?” he asked mockingly, with emphasis on the word harsh. “It´s not very ladylike to talk like this, you know?” he said and you felt scolded as if you were a child. Wiggling underneath Aemond seemed to anger him, because he pulled you by your shirt again almost to sit up. “Look at yourself, you are a pathetic little bastard. You can´t even tell if someone noticed you stare at them, can you?” The realization hits you. he noticed, he saw the way you devoured his appearance. Redness grew on your cheeks from embarrassment. Trying to look away you moved your head, but Aemond´s hand clasped your cheeks in one hand, slightly squishing your lips. “Aww you´re not getting shy, are you? Come on, tell me, what did you think when your eyes were fixed on me until you forgot where you were. It must have been something intersting.” he said in singing voice, mocking your shocked expression. Your nerves boiled, anger grew abd you started to figet in again. Aemond laughed at your squirming body, head titling back and you saw your chance not willing to loose it.

As he did not pay attention, your knee shot up, inbetween his thighs. And you hit your target, Aemond´s lips parted in yelp but the sound was more of a growl. With your legs wrapped around his waist tightly, you rolled over with him so you are now on top of him. Knees on each side of Aemond´s hips. “Whose pathetic now?” you asked him in prideful tone, looking down at him. the hair in now messy and a few strands bothered you by hangig around your eyes and as you blew it out of your sight, eyes glimpsed infront of you and faith came back in that moment, your dagger. Only a few meters away from you. Aemond realized your attention was drawn on something else than him, as he laid on the ground Aemond titled his head to look where your gaze was heading. Both of you looking at the dagger, back at eachother. Immediately you climbed off of him and headed forn the blade. Aemond turned to his knees and reached for your ankle,  which caused you to fall and he pulled back to him. Your hands clawed at the ground, mixture of dirt and sand. “Where were you going dārilaros (princess)?” he questioned and you could hear the grin in his voice. Aemond was about to turn you over but you grasped handful of the dirt and threw it into his face.”Orvorta!(cunt)” he yelled at you. Unfortunatelly for you he managed to dodge it. Aemond gripped you by your arms, but you fought, trying to get the hold of control back. After a second of fighting, you felt a sharp stung on your cheek . he slapped you across the face, harshly and you yere sure . Aemond´s hand found it´s way back to your hair, yanking you to stand up with him. You whimpered in pain, you tried to collaborate, in hope he´d let go of your hair, he did not. 

Aemond jerked you to straighten up and to face him. his expression spoke of loss of patiance and rage. his hand moved from your hair, which you reliefed for a moment but, replacing it to your throath. Squeezing hard enough to make it difficult for you to breathe, but not enough to kill you. Your eyes began to water up and you lip started quivering, pawing at his hand to release you. “Your mother has once said that conecting our families by marriege would help to prevent the war. I will not take your eye. Not only a part of you, i will take you entirely as you are, a beautiful and fierce dragon rider.” Aemond acknowledged you with his intentions as he softened the grip a little, as if waiting for you to answer. Your mouth parted in awe. What choice did you have, either die or marry him and live. you were not ready to meet your father, you want to see you mother againg along with your brothers. You want to ride with Bantis again.

“Sīr, kessa ao dīnagon nyke?(So, will you marry me?)” he asked with sweet voice, as if he was your secret lover for years and now he asked for your hand somewhere in a beatuful garden. “Skoros iderennon gaomagon eman.(What choice do i have)” you replied, looking upon his sapphire eye. Aemond seemed pleased with your anser since his firm grip was now gone and turned into a soft carese of your cheek, that felt loving and beatiful. 

[writingwhimsey]

Married to The Enemy- Shingen Ch. 57

Chapter 57

Yukimura sighed as he exited the training hall. Lord Kenshin had pulled him in for yet another rigorous round of training. Lord Kenshin had been restless and irritable in the worst ways since Lord Shingen, Sasuke, and Ava had left to the modern day. And it only seemed to get worse the longer they were gone. 

Of course, Lord Kenshin’s foul mood was only getting worse now. Tomorrow evening the Oda would be coming for another banquet and alliance meeting. Of course, they seemed to be growing suspicious and restless at Lord Shingen and Ava’s continued absence. Saki was doing her best to placate them, but he wasn’t sure how much longer they were gonna buy the excuse that they were on an extended honeymoon.

“You look incredibly stressed.”

Yukimura looked up at the sound of Saki’s voice. She was walking in the hall with Yoshimoto and Kanetsugu. The three of them had taken over preparations for the banquet while Yukimura was stuck with Lord Kenshin.

“Lord Kenshin beat you again?” Kanetsugu asked.

“Yes, I barely escaped that round of training with my life!” Yukimura answered. “Of course, I’m also worried that Lord Kenshin won’t be the only one after my head if Ava isn’t back here soon.”

“Yeah, Lord Hideyoshi is getting especially testy and suspicious.” Saki agreed. “And Lord Masamune is pretty much always ready for a fight.”

Yukimura sighed. “And they’re both coming this time right?” 

Saki nodded. “Yeah. But the biggest worry is that Lord Mitsuhide is coming, too.”

“Ugh…the kitsune, seriously?” Yukimura asked. “As if I didn’t have enough problems.”

“I’m just worried because Ieyasu is coming.” Yoshimoto said. While Yoshimoto admired the other man, he knew Ieyasu had every right to hate him.

“Are…are all of them coming or something?” Yukimura asked.

Saki nodded. “I’m afraid so.” Even though she had worked for the Oda for years, she knew they were likely all worried about Lady Ava. And she knew they were all likely coming because they were wanting answers.

“Dammit.” Yukimura muttered. He was happy that Lord Shingen was being saved…or at least he hoped he was. But he was going to crack under all of this stress if he didn’t come back soon.

Just then a messenger was running in from the front of the castle. “Lord Yukimura!”

“What is it?” Yukimura asked, recognizing the messenger as one of the spies Lord Shingen had had stationed at the entrance to town.

“Lord Shingen….Lady Ava…Sasuke…they…they’ve returned!” The messenger answered, breathless. He must have run all the way there. “They…just…entered the…town.”

“You’re sure?” Yukimura asked.

The messenger nodded. “Yes.”

Yukimura and Saki were both taking off running and exited the front of the castle, heading for the gate. The others weren’t too far behind them. All of them were waiting at the gate just in time to see three horses approaching.

“Looks like we have a welcoming party.” Shingen said as the horses came to a stop.

Yukimura looked up at his lord. Shingen was sitting on his horse, Ava riding side-saddle in front of him. Though he had been stressed about everything…above all he had been worried about his lord. He could tell Lord Shingen didn’t look as tired as he had been looking for some time now.

Shingen dismounted and then turned to help Ava get down. “My love.” He said, placing his hands on her hips.

Ava was smiling at him as she put her hands on his shoulders and allowed him to gently pull her down and into his arms. “Thank you, my love.” She said to Shingen. She then turned to the others. “Did you guys miss us?” She asked, a teasing tone to her voice.

Sasuke was getting down from his horse and going to the third horse, which had an elderly woman on the back none of the others recognized. “Here, let me help you down before Lord Kenshin realizes I’m back.” He said.

“Thanks, Sasuke.” The old woman replied.

Yukimura looked at Shingen. “You…You’re back. Does…does that mean…”

Shingen gave Yukimura a warm smile and placed a comforting hand on the young man’s shoulder. “Yes. I’m cured.”

Yukimura could feel the tears stinging his eyes, but he held them back. “That’s great.” He said. He was then looking at Ava. “Thanks, Ava.”

Ava smiled. “All I did was talk him into going. The doctors are the ones who did the work.” She replied.

“If it hadn’t been you, I don’t think I would have gone, my angel.” Shingen spoke up.

Saki was then pushing Yukimura and even Shingen away. “Alright, all of you out of my way.” She declared as she pulled Ava into a tight hug.

Ava laughed and returned the hug. “I didn’t know you’d miss me this much.” 

“Yeah, well, I’ve had no one to share girl talk with.” Saki replied, pulling back slightly. That was when she noticed the gentle swell to Ava’s belly. “It appears we have even more to catch up on than I initially thought.”

Ava giggled. “Yes we do.”

Yukimura looked at the two women. His cheeks were red, as he thought that this girl talk might now include Saki talking about him. But he too noticed Ava’s belly now. “What do you two have to talk about?” He asked. “The food in this future you’re from is so abundant that you gained weight?”

A look of pure anger and offense came to Ava’s face. Saki’s face mirrored it. Yukimura received a flick to the forehead from Shingen. Then Saki was grabbing his ear and twisting it. “You’re such an idiot.”

“I really thought I raised you better than this, Yuki.” Shingen sighed in disappointment.

“Ow!” Yukimura said. “What? We’re all just gonna ignore it?”

“She’s with child, you dummy!” Saki corrected her lover. She then released his ear. “Ugh, I swear you’re lucky you’re cute.”

Yukimura blinked as he rubbed his ear. “Wait…really?”

Shingen nodded. “Yes and she is the cutest.” He said, wrapping his arms around Ava and pulling her closer to pepper her face in kisses.

The angry, offended look Ava had at Yukimura’s comment melted away under Shingen’s affection and gave way to a smile. “Well, as long as you think so.” She said, leaning into him. “Especially since it’s your fault.”

“I’ll happily take the blame.” Shingen replied, giving her one last peck.

“Wonderful news all around.” Yoshimoto declared. “It is good seeing you so well and happy. So full of life, cousin.”

Shingen smiled at his cousin. “It feels wonderful.”

Sasuke was placing a hand on Yukimura’s shoulder. “You’re lucky Lord Shingen is able to reset Ava’s mood so easily.”

“Yeah…but I have a feeling Saki is gonna be pissed at me for a while over that.” He said. “And we’d been doing so well.”

“You’re just really good at the open mouth and insert foot technique.” Sasuke replied, patting his friend on the shoulder.

“I don’t mean to interrupt, but who is that?” Kanetsugu asked, calling everyone’s attention to the old woman.

“Oh, that’s right.” Ava spoke. “Guys, this is my grandmother. Oba-san, this is Kanetsugu, Yoshimoto, Yukimura, and my best friend Saki.”

“It’s nice to meet all of you.” Ava’s grandmother said. “Ava has told me so much about all of you. I feel like I know you all already.” She was then walking towards Saki. “She has especially told me much about you, Saki. I want to thank you for being such a good friend to her when she needed one the most.” She was then pulling Saki into a hug.

Saki smiled as she returned the hug. “It is an honor to meet you and it has been an honor to be Lady Ava’s friend.” She replied.

Just then, there was the sound of running steps. “SASUKE!”

“I feared this would happen.” Sasuke said with a resigned sigh. He was quickly drawing his sword and blocking the incoming attack from Kenshin, who seemed to leap out of nowhere.

“You were gone for too long.” Kenshin told him. 

“You know, a simple welcome home would be wonderful.” Sasuke replied.

“I have to test your reflexes and your skills. I need to be sure they didn’t dull while you were in your peaceful future.” Kenshin replied.

“Is…is this normal?” Ava’s grandmother asked.

“For Kenshin, sadly yes.” Shingen answered.

Kenshin’s attention was drawn to Shingen then. He pulled away from his greeting with Sasuke and turned his sword to Shingen. “You are cured now?”

“Yes.” Shingen answered.

“Then draw your blade and fight me. So that I can kill you honorably.” Kenshin replied.

“I didn’t get cured just to come back and let you kill me.” Shingen replied.

“Besides, you’re not going to make me a widow and raise this child by myself.” Ava added.

Kenshin’s heterochromatic eyes turned to Ava next. She was standing beside Shingen…very close actually. And he could see the swell of her belly. He frowned. “If it’s a boy, he had better grow into a strong opponent for me one day. Maybe he won’t bore me as his father does.”

“That’s rude.” Ava’s grandmother said.

“That was Kenshin speak for congratulations.” Ava replied.

Shingen chuckled. “So, you do understand him.”

“Yeah…is it weird that I think I missed all of this craziness?” She asked with a laugh.

“Maybe.” Shingen replied. “But it makes me happy to know you still feel at home here.”

“Just wait until tomorrow.” Saki said. 

“What;s tomorrow?” Ava asked.

“The Oda are coming.” Saki answered. “I believe all of them are. They’ve been kind of antsy these last few months.”

“Yeah, you guys really got back just in time.” Yukimura said, relief in his eyes. “NOt sure how much longer they were gonna buy the honeymoon story.”

“So, who all is coming then?” Ava asked.

“All of them.” Saki answered. “Lord Hideyoshi has been especially anxious.”

“He would be.” Ava replied with a sigh. She was already starting to look tired.

“We can talk more about all of this later.” Shingen said. He then scooped Ava up into his arms. “We’ve been traveling for the last few days. Let’s get inside and get cleaned up and get you rested.”

“I’ll go get a bath prepared.” Saki said. “And fresh clothes laid out. And while you’re getting cleaned up, I’ll get some tea and food prepared for you as well.”

Ava smiled. “Thanks. All of that does sound nice.”

“Yuki, please show Oba-san where she can stay.” Shingen told his vassal.

“Right.” Yukimura agreed.

Everyone began to head inside the castle. Kenshin looked at Sasuke. “You’re coming to the training hall with me.”

Sasuke sighed. “It appears I have no choice in this.” He muttered as he followed Kenshin inside. A bath and food sounded nice…but it wouldn’t really be a welcome home without training from Kenshin. Though…it really did feel like he was home now.

Taglist: @limonzu @zulablaise @oda-princess @kisara-16 @tele86 @lovely-bubb1es @lucyw260 @selenacosmic

@bjorkshire-pudding @eventinelysplayground

[prue84]

The Current and Future Pendragons

Fandom: BBC’s Merlin (canon divergence, post-canon) AU AU: The Royal Husbands (Aithusa Pendragon)

High King Arthur Pendragon and the royal family of Camelot.

AU in which a series of canon divergences lead to Arthur surviving the mortal wound inflicted him by Mordred at Camlann and, with the help of Merlin who then becomes his Prince Consort, bringing the golden age foretold by the prophecies.

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Manip planned few years ago, but started on the prompt of @tavernfest​. It's all @papysanzo's fault on Tumblr for reblogging the May round. Also @merthurotica​, but their post on my RSS feed turned up later.

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More about the AU under the cut and also at the AU edit. (More fanworks from this AU at the links above) (All rambles and how this manip was made under the cut. Please suffer with me.)

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Arthur Pendragon, king of Camelot and High King of Albion. He successfully reunited the lands as the prophecies said, and also brought back magic. Few years after the victory of Camlann he married Merlin, who has become prince consort and second ruler of the kingdom. But, since unfortunately Merlin might be many things, but a woman with a womb he's not, Arthur (with Merlin) had to find a way to conceive a heir while being married to a man. Cue in Mithian, crown princess of Nemeth, equally saddled with the duty to give the throne a heir but uninterested in finding a husband trustful enough to sit at her side without potentially become a danger to her right to the throne. Together, the three of them reach an agreement that satisfies them all and they've been tight-close since. Their peculiar settlement initially was met with confusion and diffidence, but Mithian earned herself the thrust of everyone, and eventually the title of Queen of Camelot, third in line after Merlin. Peter is the first born of this union and rightful heir to the throne of Camelot. He's a talented swordsman but he suffered through all his teen years because of the never-ending comparisons with his warrior father who is on another fighting level. With age he learned to accept that he'll never be a war king and nobody ever asked him to become one either. He isn't his father, his name isn't part of legends or prophecies; he wasn't born to unite Albion but to keep it united once the Age of the Once and Future King sees its dawn. He will be a good and fair king for the peaceful times of the golden age, and his duty will be to make sure all his father - and his father's husband - sacrifices won't be wasted, that what they built is preserved. Susan was conceived because Mithian wanted both a heir for her to entrust Nemeth and a daughter. She's stubborn and strong but also capable of great empathy and kindness, as her mother and the Pendragon women (when they not meet High Priestesses who manipulate them). She's a formidable archer. Handsome Caspian, the son of Gwaine and Lady Vivian, is courting her and she welcomes this game, but Susan is enjoying too much her freedom to settle for a marriage and a family of her own. She has time though. Aithusa is the cute, small thing of the family, although she's actually the oldest of the new Pendragon generation - not counting the centuries spent in the egg that make her older than the castle of Camelot itself. As per usual with the dragon race, Aithusa's growth is stunned by her remaining with her parents. Only by being left on their own to tend to themselves, a dragonling is forced to grow. Thus, despite she was hatched on the dawn of the golden age, before Arthur married Mithian, she's still a dragonling that can fit Arthur's shoulders - her second favorite spot after the sling she made Arthur wear for years under his shirt. She learned the human language and can talk with her half-dragon impaired siblings Peter and Susan, but her speech pattern still needs some work. She doesn't care though. She's not so eager to leave the nest.

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Aithusa, (officially the ward of the king, unofficially considered by anyone in the court his scales-covered, flame-breathing daughter) is actually the eldest, since she was the first to come to the family. So yes, she's the older sibling. Make of this knowledge what you want. She also is firm that Arthur is a dragon, just one kind that looks like humans. But he's totally dragon. And if he doesn't breath fire or doesn't understand the dragon language, is all Uther's fault who didn't teach him his dragon gifts. Since Arthur is clearly a dragon, while Mithian sadly isn't, Peter and Susan are to her half-dragons. She still claims that it's because of the half human blood in their veins that they are impaired and don't have any dragon skill.

There's a fanfic for Aithusa as the (still only) daughter of the royal husbands during Father's Day, if you're interested.

When the time comes, and Arthur retires to Avalon to sleep, Peter will ascend as new king of Camelot, whose court will be moved to the renovated Castle of the Old Kings (or a new castle - still have to decide on this). Susan will succeed to Mithian on the throne of Nemeth. Aithusa will inherit the nest itself, the castle of Camelot, to own and protect until Merlin will be ready to make use of it.

I decided that Caspian would be Gwaine's (and Vivian's) son out of looks alone, and out of a (wrong) belief that he was meant to be Susan's love in Narnia. I never watched the second movie, and by the time I finally read the books, I didn't want to change it. For the same reason, I don't have a woman for Peter. A potential daughter of Gwen and Lancelot wouldn't be bad, but not necessary. (The AU idea ends with Arthur's travel to Avalon for his sleep and a mention of Peter moving the court to another castle, to then a time skip focusing on Merlin, so I didn't really focus on Peter's or Susan's life.)

While I'm writing this I wondered if Merlin wouldn't want to have a child so to kickstart the dragonlords kind (although, unless Magic changes its rules, the child would never inherit the dragonlord powers, since Merlin doesn't die). It never occurred to me before. I'm not sure he'd feel like having children, if he already knew that he would be immortal and he would then be forced to see his children grow old and frail and then die. But who knows. He could have one or more with Mithian, especially once Arthur is gone to Avalon. In case, Edward Pensive is there for the picking. Also Lucy.

About the AU When Lancelot is sent sent back to the world of the livings after he sacrificed himself to close the Veil, Gwen realizes that, between the two boys she loves, a relationship with a knight of humble origins has better chances than the one with a king that comes with a throne and a heavy kingdom, and so she picks Lancelot over Arthur. Arthur, who has given his blessing to the couple, doesn't find the time nor interest to find himself a wife and he's still a golden bachelor by the time Camlann happens. Merlin manages to save him and they eventually acknowledge their feelings. The Court backs Arthur's wish to marry a male servant on the premise that Arthur will pick a woman to give the kingdom a heir. And here comes Mithian, who might be more interested in women, so Camelot and Nemeth can make an agreement that will make both households happy. Since Mithian is wonderful, and fondness between her and the Royal Couple of Camelot grows, she's eventually given the title of Queen of Camelot, third in line after the King and the Prince Consort. Arthur and Mithian will have two children, the first born a male who will inherit Camelot and the second a daughter that will inherit Nemeth.

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Tec stuffs (aka Behind The Manip) Both a challenge and a nightmare. The original picture is four people. I needed five. Now, onto the specific characters - in order of making. Mithian, who had to be moved to make space for Merlin, was surprisingly easy to make. I wished to delete the lions on the dress, and replace them with either the Pendragon dragon or the Nemeth bull, but it was too much even for me, so I gave up. Removing them altogether felt odd - the dress is black with little movement, and without the lions it felt just one blotch of black. Susan. I'm not satisfied. The actress picture was perfect in pose but it has something in colors/lights that makes it stand out and look a bit more fake. Whatever. Peter. It took me a while to find the picture that would fit the body. Initially I kept the original body's curly hair, for I didn't feel like William Moseley's hairstyle would acceptable in a Medieval setting. But then I changed my mind, and remade it. He might be a bit too stocky for my liking but the body is that and making him less bulkier is out of option. On the chest the costume featured a cross: I erased it to be replaced it with the Pendragon dragon in the same style. Quite proud of how that turned out. Can't say the same for the sword. Yes, Arthur's son has a name sword which is coincidentally the sword of Peter Pensive. But the change was a given. Merlin was one challenge. I planned to use another body for his (the same king from Vikings but with another costume) but the picture just didn't work out. The one I chose... featured the man from the knees above. Which meant reconstruction for legs (which meant stealing the legs from Arthur's base - coincidentally it's always the same character!)... and the cloak. That was the true challenge! Also. I like how it turned out, but it just irks me that Colin doesn't look in the camera. But that picture was perfect and the result is fine. It did take me some tinkering to place the circlet but all in all I'm satisfied in how prince Merlin turned out. Bonus point for my headcanon marriage ring that didn't look good (the manip is too small for decent rings renderings), but I managed to add another from a jewelry maker that does rings in a style very similar to Ygraine's canon ring. Be sure to visit their Etsy and die. Ygraine's sigil, that replace the medallion the original body was wearing, is a given as well. Too bad we don't have a decent prop pic of it. Now. Arthur. Bloody Arthur. Tinkering with the original body to change colors from blue to red was funny. The rest NOT. Replacing the original sword with Excalibur, which was mandatory, gave a mild result. Ygraine's ring is there but, given the small size, isn't looking good enough. And those were the easy things! Because then it came the time to place bearded Bradley. Now. We do have few nice bearded Bradley pics, courtesy of the man himself, but they were mostly too small to work with in this manip - and/or in poses that wouldn't fit the body. You might say: there's Vikings: Valhalla. No, my friend. I downloaded ALL the screencaps available and very few worked, and - given the costume the character wears, there was never a inch of Bradley's bearded neck. In the end I worked with one of the pics Bradley released on Instagram. A pic with a black background in which bear and hair blended in. And an hard shadow on the right side of the face. A nightmare to cut, a nightmare to fix. And then the crown. The crown comes from The Hollow Crown. It looks similar but it isn't the same refurbished prop (different decorations, slightly different proportions of the fleur-de-lis). Years ago, when I saw the pics, I decided this would be older!Arthur's crown, for it's more regal with its fake gems and golden coating. There wasn't a pic with the proper perspective, so I had to tweak it a bit. It doesn't look awful, mind me, but I feel something's off with how it's placed on Bradley's head. I can't tell what, though - I used one of Arthur's coronation pics as reference while working, but still I can't fix what's wrong. In hindsight I wonder if I should've used a crowned Arthur pic with the original crown and be done with it. And then Aithusa. We literally have two pics of her, unless you want to work with night/dark screencaps. I knew where I wanted to have her, no idea how to. Still not happy. Does she looks fake? Yes. But at this time I just gave up. Whatever. (Besides, the other options didn't work. Her standing promo pic at Arthur's feet? Her fore legs are in a different perspective. Her standing promo pic on Arthur's shoulders? There was enough space, her head would be cut out from the picture and there was no way to extend the base pic by 50px, that specific background is a bitch to work with).

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Credits

1. + 18. Vikings, season 4 promo pictures. ( farfarawaysite.com/section/vikings/gallery4/gallery21/gallery.htm ) 2. Janet Montgomery from Salem, season 1 promo picture. ( farfarawaysite.com/section/salem/gallery1/gallery14/gallery.htm ) 3. Anna Popplewell from Reign, season 1 promo picture. ( farfarawaysite.com/section/reign/gallery1/gallery1/gallery.htm ) 4. Vikings, season 2 promo picture. ( farfarawaysite.com/section/vikings/gallery2/gallery1/gallery.htm ) 5. Colin Morgan from We Hunt Together. ( farfarawaysite.com/merlin/actors/colin/filmtv3/gallery.htm ) 6. The Hollow Crown, season 1 - Henry V. ( farfarawaysite.com/section/hollow/gallery1/gallery3/gallery.htm ) 7. Merlin, deleted scene - screencap. (Merlin's Keep at Far Far Away) 8. Spinner ring by artisanlook on Etsy. ( etsy.com/listing/462981991/spinner-ring-ruby-ring-silver-band ) 9. William Moseley from Bonnie Paul's 'It Was Love, Now It's War' Music Video photoshoot. ( justjared.com/photo-gallery/2650927/william-moseley-bonnie-paul-it-was-love-now-its-war-01 ) 10 + 11. The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian original prop (Peter’s sword and scabbard). ( uk.propstoreauction.com/view-auctions/catalog/id/78/lot/18159 ) 12. Merlin, original prop. (Merlin's Keep at Far Far Away) 13. Bradley James, photoshoot by Jose Palma (2021). ( instagram.com/p/CVvMc_AMC8m ) 14. Merlin, season 2 promo picture. (Merlin's Keep at Far Far Away) 15. The Hollow Crown, season 1 - Henry VI. ( farfarawaysite.com/section/hollow/gallery2/gallery2/gallery.htm ) 16. Bradley James from Vikings: Valhalla, 2x06 - screencap. ( kissthemgoodbye.net/PeriodDrama/index.php?cat=510 ) 17. Merlin, 4x11 - screencap. ( kissthemgoodbye.net/merlin/index.php ) 19 + 20. Merlin, creature picture. (Merlin's Keep at Far Far Away)

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Crossposted Livejournal: prue84.livejournal.com/97890.html Dreamwidth: prue84.dreamwidth.org/89442.html Deviantart: deviantart.com/prue84/art/The-Current-and-Future-Pendragons-964446326

[star-girl69]

I Loved You Like the Sun

a/n: i always think it’s so unrealistic when people in fanfics are put into life or death situations and they aren’t scared out of their mind like??? i’m sorry if anyone wanted a fearless badass reader but this is not the book for you lmao like at the end of the day reader is still a human with thoughts and feelings

also keep in mind- reader has never really experienced physical violence before and when she did, she ran straight to daemon and rhaenyra

also did i totally steal the hair line from grrm and ned/catelyn? yes but it’s so daemon/reader coded i HAD too but anyways this kinda sucks but i hope you all enjoy!!

warnings: swearing, violence, mentions of death, knives, incest, tell me if i missed anything!!

Chapter Twenty Six - Lady Targaryen

—-

The sea stretches out beneath you, the sound of dragons in the air loud in your ears. Vermax screeches from around you- to the side, you think- but Cannibal is so large you can barely see past his vastness.

Arrax and Luke stay close to you, hiding in your shadow, protecting their eyes from the sun and reducing some of the wind blowing at them. You and Cannibal are happy to do it. Things like the sun and wind are no match for The Dragon of the Night and his rider, Y/N Targaryen.

Rhaenyra tells you she will make you a princess of the realm, properly show you off as her wife, but for know you are simply Lady Targaryen. You think you are content to be this for now.

—-

The sun is just setting, and you can barely see it over the horizon, when Luke suddenly strays from you. You watch, sadly, as he reaches a hand up and waves. You almost want to scold him for not keeping both hands on the reigns.

The Stormlands live up to their name- the wind is strong and you can see clouds in the distance.

But you simply wave to him as well, watch as him and Arrax peel away and towards the beauty of the Tarth isle.

But you, you continue to Storm’s End. Fleetingly, you wonder if you will see Luke on the ride back.

—-

Storm’s End rises out from the clouds, a circle castle, with a domed roof, but you can barely make it out over the rain and wind. You grip Cannibal’s spikes, looping around the building and soaring into the large courtyard.

You land heavily, Cannibal just barely fitting in between the walls. He lowers his shoulder, and you descend, easily. It always takes your family so long to untangle from their straps- but Cannibal is wild. He will never be saddled. You cannot blame him.

The guards don’t look outwardly scared, but you know they are. They must be, because everyone in Westeros has heard of The Cannibal. The Dragon of the Night. A dragon turned against its own kind- come again as a dragon hunter, a cannibal.

The guards do not outwardly acknowledge you, but as you walk closer, you see the subtle tilt of their heads. Pointed straight at your Cannibal, of course.

Your steps are strong, sure, and you imagine this is what Daemon would do. But you stop when you hear it. A roar. Not from Cannibal, you know all of his sounds, but from another dragon.

When you look over, you can just barely manage to make out Vhagar straightening over the courtyard walls. But Daemon would not falter. You collect yourself, push forward, shout to them through the wind.

“I am Lady Y/N Targaryen! I seek an audience with Lord Borros Baratheon. I bring a message from the Queen!” Two of them nod, spin on their heels, and walk forward. You follow them, sparing a glance to Vhagar. If she is here, then her rider is.

—-

Storm’s End is nothing compared to the beauty of Dragonstone, but you can still appreciate the high ceilings and towering columns, carved in the image of great battles.

The great hall is open and desolate, a few courtiers standing off to the side, while Borros Baratheon sits in front of you. Rhaenyra was right. Your welcome was cold.

“Lady Y/N Targaryen,” one of the guards calls, and that is when you see him. He turns on a lazy heel, hands behind his back, sword hanging from his hip, eye patch covering the wounds your son inflicted.

You eye him wearily, and he looks you up and down. The prince, with his long blonde hair, lean body signature eyepatch is not unknown to you. He is cunning, brave, a great warrior. He could be something great, but as a supporter of a usurper he will never be anything more than that to you.

“Wife of Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon Targaryen.” The man finishes, and thunder strikes as you look towards the man you came here for. No mind to the Prince. You are not a warrior, not like Jace and Luke are, and all of you are strictly messengers. But you know, without Cannibal, you have no weapons other than basic skills and a knife strapped to your thigh.

“Lord Borros,” you bow, deeply, and he watches you with distaste. “I have brought you a message from my wife… the Queen.”

“Yet earlier this day, I received an envoy from the King. Which is it? King or Queen?” His mouth slowly curves into a sick smile, and he leans back further into his chair. A throne made of rock, nothing like the Iron Throne. “It seems that the House of the Dragon does not know who rules it.” He looks you up and down. “What is her message?”

You hold your hand out, and a guard takes it from you, continuing on to the dais where Lord Borros sits. You know that you have no power here. A part of you wishes you had never come, this not-knowing making you crave warm touches more than ever. But another part of you, the sure part, the bigger part, knows that this is where you are supposed to be.

The maester joins Lord Borros on the dias, and you do not look at Aemond as the maester whispers to the lord.

He turns to you, storms alight in his eyes, hands digging into the stone armrests of his throne.

“‘Remind’ me of my father’s oath?” He hisses. “King Aegon at least came with an offer: my swords and banners for a marriage pact. If I do as Rhaenyra bids… which one of my daughters will Prince Daemon marry next?”

You narrow your eyes at him, chin tilting down, but you are prepared for this.

“The Queen sent me for a reason, my lord.”

“Oh?” He asks, another smile creeping onto his face. “And what would that be?”

“I’m sure you know, Lord Borros, that I am not only a Targaryen in name, but by blood. Have you heard the stories of my dragon?” You see his fists clench. “They call him ‘The Cannibal’ and ‘The Dragon of the Night”. Of course, I don’t bother with any of those titles. I call him mine.”

“I… I know what beast you ride, Lady Y/N.” He swallows, barely visible. A lilac eye burns into you.

“Yes? Then you know he rivals even Vhagar in size. Surpasses her in bloodlust. The Queen, in her superiority, wishes to remind you of your father’s oath and the might of House Targaryen.”

His eyes fix on you. Before, you might have been scared. But now, you are a wife, a mother, a dragonrider. It is Lord Borros’ castle but you command the room.

“Is that a threat?” He says, finally, after a moments silent.

“No, my lord. A reminder.”

“Ah,” Aemond clicks his tongue, stepping forward into the dim light. “It does not take a fool, my lady, to hear your words for the threat they are. Threatening the lord of a high house can even be seen as…” He steps forward, and you can pretend, but you are not Daemon, so you falter. “Treason.”

“I- I did no- no such thing.”

He smiles, teeth white like something unnatural. “I think you did.”

You turn back to Lord Borros, shamefully, your bravado fading and you are suddenly the weak woman you were before.

“I did not come here as a warrior. I’m a messenger. A messenger.” Lord Borros does not answer. Aemond stalks closer. He places a hand upon his knife.

“Not in my hall!” Lord Borros shouts, just as reality sets in.

You are a threat to the Greens. And here you are, all alone, with Aemond.

“No- no- no, no, no! I am- I am Lady Targaryen, I’m a fucking dragonrider, and-” You look around, like the wild woman you are, see Aemond advancing still. Your eyes widen.

He will kill you for this.

And you will not deprive your children of a parent, your husband and wife of the lover, and selfishly, you do not want to die. You miss Rhaenyra and Daemon. Daenys, Aegon, Viserys. Baela and Rhaena. Luke, Joffrey, Jace.

Which each name, each face, your resolve grows.

You spin, weave through the guards, who make no move to stop you, Lord Borros still yelling out “not in my hall”. Perhaps he would care if you were a boy. Help you, even. But to men like him, you will never be anything more than Daemon and Rhaenyra’s whore.

It’s raining when you slam through the doors, and Aemond follows. His footsteps only spur you on, each thump reminding you of another name you must live for You almost sob through the heavy rain, Cannibal rearing his head at your scent.

“Do you think you can fly about the realm, attempt to steal my brother’s throne?” Aemond shouts after you, but you ignore him, overtaken by fear and the need to get back to them. It surpasses all else.

When he catches up to you, he grabs you by the hair and you almost want to sob because Daemon loves your hair and he loves you.

“I didn’t-” You heave, tears fast and breath heavy.

“You didn’t mean to?” He asks, and you let out sobs at the feel of his cheek upon yours. “Is that what you will say after you murder my entire family with your fucking dragon?”

“No,” you gasp, head pulling back as he tightens his grip on your hair. “I won’t, I won’t, I just want to go home-”

“Tell him to leave or I’ll cut your pretty neck.”

His words make you release a wild sob, because without Cannibal you have no power, no control. Your heart beats heavily in your chest.

“I don’t want to die-”

“Shh,” he whispers, but it does nothing to comfort you, not like their soft voices do. “No, no, I’m not going to kill you. My mother is a saint, and she has more of a conscience than my grandsire or I.” When you don’t speak, he presses the blade to your neck. You do not know if blood falls, but the message is clear. He will not kill you, but he will hurt you.

“So- sovēs,” you sob, and Cannibal does not move. “Sovēs, Cannibal, sovēs, please!” Where Aemond is, Vhagar is, and you will not risk his safety. Besides, when he returns riderless, Daemon and Rhaenyra love you. They will not abandon you.

He raises his wings into the air, encompassing you and Aemond, filling the air with darkness, before his wings push in and he is lifted into the air.

“I hope Vhagar will suffice,” Aemond says, before the hilt of his knife hits your head and the world goes black.

Your last thought is their names.

—-

Lord Hand,

When The Cannibal returned riderless, the entire island heard the Princess’s sobs. Late into the night, she screamed and cried, and Prince Daemon forced members of the guard to spar with him until the Lord Corlys had to bring him to the ground. The younger children, hearing their mother’s screams, cried as well, late into the night. No one on the island found much sleep. When the morning arrived, and there was still no sign of Lady Targaryen, the Prince and Princess convened a council meeting and have not left the Great Hall since. The Cannibal has retreated back to the Dragonmount. His cries are ear-splitting, and he killed and ate any dragonkeeper who tried to help him. The plan has been successful, my lord. The Blacks are utterly lost without their whore, and The Cannibal is no longer of issue. Long may King Aegon reign.

- Ser Tristan Caros

—-

taglist:

@wondergal2001 @akiraquote @a-lil-bit-nuts @anginoguera @thatkinkylesgirl1 @stitchattacks @honeypillowsblog @kaloafd @blackhoodlea @softtina @wallace02sblog @tetgod @hotd-fanfic @rxscpctals @iramagnus

—-

[asongofstarkandtargaryen]

Arya and Dany: not leaving their people behind

A good leader should always prioritize the good of their people and while those two girls are so young and often not even in a position of power (Dany in AGOT, Arya in all the books) they still don’t abandon their own. Arya and Daenerys prefer to even risk their lives if that means saving their people/pack.

Please keep in mind that I wanted to write a short meta so I decided against putting all the instances of them not leaving people behind. I’ll only offer two examples per girl to validate  my opinion (and one day when I’ll have more time hopefully I’ll write a longer meta)

As they were running toward the barn, Arya spied the crying girl sitting in the middle of the chaos, surrounded by smoke and slaughter. She grabbed her by the hand and pulled her to her feet as the others raced ahead. The girl wouldn't walk, even when slapped. Arya dragged her with her right hand while she held Needle in the left. Ahead, the night was a sullen red. The barn's on fire, she thought. Flames were licking up its sides from where a torch had fallen on straw, and she could hear the screaming of the animals trapped within. Hot Pie stepped out of the barn. "Arry, come on! Lommy's gone, leave her if she won't come!"

Stubbornly, Arya dragged all the harder, pulling the crying girl along. 

Remember little Weasel? The small girl  - much younger than even Arya- that kept following Yoren’s group? When Ser Amory Lorch  attacked Yoren and his men the girl was lost in the fire and due to her panic she didn’t cooperate even when Arya tried to save her. Arya’s friends adviced her to leave the little girl behind and I can see their reasoning: they were all scared kids and having a much younger child with them wouldn’t only slow them down but could also give them away to their enemies if the little kid screamed the wrong time.

However, Arya decided that the life of a young kid she barely knew was worth saving (and imo she was right, that was the moral thing to do) and even when the small girl didn’t cooperate Arya kept pulling her along to their escape and away from the Lannister soldiers.

She would make much better time on her own, Arya knew, but she could not leave them. They were her pack, her friends, the only living friends that remained to her [...]

When Arya and her friends escape Harrenhal, they are slowing her down. Which is understandable because unlike her, they didn’t spend their childhood riding horses and ponies (they belong to an entirely different and poorer class). And what does the noble lady of House Stark does? Does she abandons those “nobodies” - according to the classist  westerosi ideology- in order to save her noble ass? Of course not! She continues to stay by their side and she considers them her pack. It doesn’t matter that they belong in a different social class, Arya never paid attention to such superficial things. All that matters is that those two are people who are friends to her, who care about her and she cares about them in return.

Let’s move on Dany:

Doreah took a fever and grew worse with every league they crossed. Her lips and hands broke with blood blisters, her hair came out in clumps, and one evenfall she lacked the strength to mount her horse. Jhogo said they must leave her or bind her to her saddle, but Dany remembered a night on the Dothraki sea, when the Lysene girl had taught her secrets so that Drogo might love her more. She gave Doreah water from her own skin, cooled her brow with a damp cloth, and held her hand until she died, shivering.

This passage always makes me emotional (and angry at the tv series for doing Doreah so dirty!). After Khal Drogo died, Dany took her khalasar to pass the Red Waste, in order to search for a safe place. In that unwelcoming dessert even necessicites weren’t guaranteed and mercy in the eyes of plenty was seen as a luxury they couldn’t afford. Not for Dany, though. 

Dany nursed Doreah and keep comforting her until the latter died. Doreah was Dany’s handmaid and for the classist ideology that was dominant both in Westeros and in the East was unimportant compared to the lady she served. Especially since Dany was no ordinary lady but a Khaleesi having her own khalasar and three dragons. But that’s not how Dany considered things. For Dany, Doreah was her first friend, her “pack” (borrowing this word from Arya’s quote I posted above) and therefore she was worth nursing and having someone to hold her hand until the very end.

Yet even so, tens of thousands preferred to follow her to Yunkai, rather than remain behind in Astapor. I gave them the city, and most of them were too frightened to take it.

The raggle-taggle host of freedmen dwarfed her own, but they were more burden than benefit. Perhaps one in a hundred had a donkey, a camel, or an ox; most carried weapons looted from some slaver's armory, but only one in ten was strong enough to fight, and none was trained. They ate the land bare as they passed, like locusts in sandals. Yet Dany could not bring herself to abandon them as Ser Jorah and her bloodriders urged. I told them they were free. I cannot tell them now they are not free to join me

When Daenerys orders her army to free the slaves and kill the slavers in Astapor she changes the status quo of the city. However, plenty freemen who were former slaves decide to folllow her to Yunkai instead of staying in their city. Those people aren’t soldiers and can’t offer much to her campaign. The wisest political choice would be to leave them behind as Ser Jorah and Dany’s bloodriders think. But Dany isn’t only a politician or a conqueror. She’s also a Mhysa and that’s the primary role. Being a mother to her people,caring for their well being and looking after them. So, she decides that she won’t leave them behind if they want to join her.

[galvanizedfriend]

Fics I will never finish lol

I have like four chapters of this, but it's been over a year since I last touched it, I think it's time I accept I won't be finishing it. So here, have a little sample of a Arthurian Legend AU I was once upon time going to write, with loads of magic, mysteries and some plot twists! The writing is kinda nice me thinks, so why not put it out there?

It was inspired by a book I read and became obsessed with, called The Guinevere Deception, by Kiersten White, which I won't recommed because while the first and second books are great, the finale is ULTRA disappointing, so probably not worth it (but I do love Kiersten White's writings, she has better fantasy books if you're interested).

Caroline is Guinevere, Klaus is Mordred, and it's obviously Klaroline, duh.

--

Caroline did not think men were capable of building places such as Orleans.

In her 20 years of age, she's seen the most wondrous things. Mystical things. Unthinkable things. She has seen the hidden power of trees and insects and animals. The secret art of shaping words into delicate commands that not even sticks and stones could disobey. On rare occasions, she has also witnessed the things that lay in the dark, whispering, waiting, preying. But she had never seen a city.

Her world, she realizes with sudden clarity, was much smaller than she believed.

On her journey from the convent, she passed by castles and villages, both small and large. She saw more people than she'd seen in her entire life before. Everything was new to her - the food, the smells, the movement on the roads, not to mention the knights that surrounded her the entire time. Pretending not to be struck by marvel every other minute was hard. Her travel companions thought they were escorting a princess, not someone raised in a moss-covered cottage in the dead of the woods. But nothing, not even the strongest resolve and the most inscrutable of masks, could've prepared her for Orleans.

It is everything she heard, and then some.

The city clings to the steep slope of the mountainside as though sculpted out of stone. She can't even begin to imagine how long it must've taken to complete the work. It is solid and fierce and proud. And old. So, so old. Even from a distance Caroline can tell - can feel, crawling through her skin - the sheer power that emanates from something that has withstood the test of time for so long. How many generations the city must've seen rise and fall, the secrets and history it must hold in its core? She can see some of the winding streets and houses beyond the walls, meandering up the mountain all the way to the top, where the imposing castle stands, overlooking the whole land.

The view from up there, she thinks... Must be quite something.

And very strategic as well. Amid her wide-eyed astonishment, she still has time to think of duty. It is, after all, what has brought her here, to this far-away land.

What she notices with less awe and more of an unpleasant stir low in her stomach is all the water that surrounds it. A violent river has, over the course of ages, completely separated Orleans from the land before it, as far as she could see. Its rapid, turbulent waters still cascade on both sides of the mountain, forming a long, dark lake that encircles the entire city. A breath catches in Caroline's throat as realization dawns that, in order to get to and from the city, she'll have to cross that lake. No one told her about that.

"Something of the matter, my lady?" a calm, cool voice cuts into her musings, and Caroline quickly suppresses her concern, pushing it down and away. Even though she wears a veil, as is the norm for respectable unmarried women, she makes sure to school her face into as much blankness as she is capable of.

She sits perfectly straight on her saddle, her posture that of a lady, indeed, though that, too, is a fabrication, and could not be further away from the truth. For all her faults, Caroline is nothing if not tenacious. Discomfort and fear won't keep her from fulfilling her task. Or rather - from filling in the shoes of her new role.

Princess Caroline of Forbes, she repeats to herself. That is who you are.

Sir Niklaus rides closer to her, his horse side by side with her own. He hasn’t strayed far for a single minute during the whole travel. Caroline contains the shudder that runs through her form as she feels his eyes on her - assessing, searching, always watching.

The knights have been nothing but a mask of professionalism since they showed up at the convent to fetch her and escort her towards her destiny. They're respectful, if not exactly warm. She is fine with their apparent indifference; in fact, she prefers it that way. To them, she is nothing but a simple woman, a beautiful ornament, dressed and polished to perfection, that they are meant to take from one place and deliver to another, into the hands of her new master. A valuable property, to be certain, but a property nonetheless.

That's exactly how Caroline was instructed to behave. Polite, affable, delicate, incapable of braiding her own hair, like any dignified princess. On top of being dotted with unswerving tenacity, she is also a competent actor, and so playing the part is hardly challenging. So long as the men have nothing to suspect, they'll never look close enough to see the small chinks on her meticulously constructed façade. The complications ahead of her are hard enough without the added pressure of suspicion. And at first, she thought herself lucky. The knights did not care for her at all, no more than out of a pure sense of duty.

All, except for Sir Niklaus.

The intensity in his midnight eyes brushes up against Caroline's every sense, setting off alarm bells inside of her. It is hard to keep straight when he is near. Harder still to avoid him. She can feel his gaze burning holes onto her back or her face. He was hell-bent on watching her from the very first moment, and he did not care much for concealing it.

She told herself that it made sense that he'd show the most interest. He is, after all, the king's half-brother.

The king is notoriously close to his knights, his closest circle of allies being more like brothers than assembled warriors, but by every account Caroline has had access to - granted, not nearly as much as she would've wished in order to prepare herself for what awaits her - no one has the king's ears and trust quite as much as Sir Niklaus.

Their history is a winding one, full of twists and turns and nebulous slivers, but it seems to have done nothing but bring them closer still. There is a reason why someone who rejoices in as much prestige as Sir Niklaus would've been sent on such a mission: to assess her. Consider the worth and class of the deal his half-brother - and indeed his kingdom - is about to close. It's a test. And he appears to take his job quite seriously.

There was a small, rather foolish and juvenile part of her curious about what Sir Niklaus would look like. Not so much for himself, but for what it might say of his half-brother. And she is not too disappointed, she must say. He is a handsome man, indeed, and only a few years younger than the king. He wears his hair shorter than the other knights, honey-colored strands only beginning to curl around the edges, wind-swept after days on horseback. His features are almost delicate - full lips, long lashes, high cheekbones - but the steel in his dark blue eyes gives him a stroke of mystery and severity. She gets the strange impression that he's constantly trying to peer right through her, as though he expects to unearth some hidden truth. And therein her problems lie.

She must be extra careful around Sir Niklaus.

He's barely directed a word toward her during their two days of traveling, but the few times he did, she could not help but be most rattled by the cold disdain that thrummed underneath his remarks. He hates me. Two days was all it took for him to decide she is unworthy.

Part of Caroline feels mightily insulted, wants to raise her chin and demand an explanation, or at the very least more decorum. She is a princess, after all - as far as he's concerned, anyway. But she remembers Qetsiyah's words before she left - "The king will need you, and you must do everything in your power to keep him safe" - and restrains her fire. They will be off to a terrible start if she antagonizes the king's half-brother before they've even crossed into the city.

Emphasis on crossing.

You are princess Caroline of Forbes, she repeats once more. Princesses do not fight their male relatives, no matter how unnerving they might be.

"No matter," she replies calmly, even though her throat closes once more as she sets her eyes on the water ahead. "I just don't like water."

Sir Niklaus' eyebrows arch in an amused expression, his lips curling into a grin that reveals boyish dimples. "Did no one tell you?"

"I'm afraid not," she states curtly, wondering if that somehow makes her seem like a fool. Would a princess know about the geography of her future lair? Would that have been revealed by her father or her servants? Qetsiyah should've warned me, a voice whispers in her head. Qetsiyah's instructions were few and scarce and left much to be desired, especially to Caroline's perfectionist mind, but she is beginning to think the witch might've purposefully omitted information.

"Fear not, my lady," Sir Niklaus continues. "I'm sure we can find someone to carry you across."

His words are almost soft, but the smirk on his face tells her she is being teased.

Caroline pushes her horse forward, approaching the knights ahead and leaving Sir Niklaus behind.

x-x-x

As the legendary city looms closer in the horizon, the tension of the long journey dissipates from the men around her in a mist. The knights are more relaxed, talkative, even the horses trot more freely. They're glad to be home.

Home, she thinks, trying to push the word into her heart and embrace it. Orleans is now her home, too.

The mossy cottage where she spent her entire life and the convent where she spent the last three months are all but gone. Caroline's sixth sense has been acute and accurate since as far as her memory will go, and while the sight of Orleans certainly does awake a good many feelings and sensations inside of her, it also brings a strange discomfort. It's repelling her.

Magic has been banned, she reminds herself. Orleans does not take kindly to the likes of her. It is old and proud and mineral; there's more life breathing in this place than its gray hues might suggest, and that life is ruthless to anything that threatens its stillness. How she is to make a place like that her home is anyone's guess. Something else Qetsiyah did not see fit to disclose to her.

"There are great dangers coming, a darkness that no man is capable of fighting on his own, no matter how great or noble. He will need you. Protect him, protect Orleans. That is the only way to the future."

Qetsiyah is wise and powerful and she walks through time as though knots between minutes and hours and years are nothing but thresholds. She can see into the future, and she saw what was to come. She wouldn't have sent Caroline here, green as she is, with the feeble training she's had, if it wasn't urgent. If she didn't trust her capable of doing the job.

More than that, Qetsiyah believes in Orleans and all it stands for. Ever since the new king rose to power, the place has become a beacon of fairness, peace and prosperity. Villages and small towns thrive all around. Roads are safe for traveling and commerce. Organized farm fields have been built and distributed, and harvest is ready for the reaping. The air in this place feels different. The joy she senses radiating off the knights isn't just home-sickness; they love it here. And the secret to all of this is the king. He's the heart and soul of this place, the very pulse that keeps it alive. Protecting him means protecting all of this. And that is what Caroline has been sent here for. That is her mission.

So simple in theory; so impossibly hazardous and complicated in practice.

"It's a beauty, is it not?" Niklaus' voice sounds close to her once more.

Caroline keeps her face forward, focusing all her attention on the castle, trying her best to ignore the ever-approaching sound of the water.

"Quite impressive," she replies, not hiding her true astonishment. There are many things about Qetsiyah Caroline doesn't understand, many things about her own mission that are still a haze to her, but it's not hard to see why she'd have such fondness for this kingdom, why she wants it to be a paragon for humankind, ushering in a new age. "I'd never seen anything like it."

"Most people haven't. You can see why so many battles have been fought for it. It's truly hard to let go of such magnificence."

The wistfulness in his tone makes Caroline slide him a look, at last, but he's the one to keep his gaze away now. He seems distant, contemplative, and for a moment she wonders if he was even speaking to her, or just thinking out loud.

x-x-x

It's not long before the rich sound of music and laughter and the smell of warm food reaches them. Just on the plane by the river bank, a real welcome festival awaits them. Tents galore, colorful flags flying high - and people, so many people. Caroline almost bulks, tensing up on her horse. She's never seen this many people before.

Swallowing past her nerves, she fixes the veil shielding her, suddenly no longer bothered by how it seems to blur and darken the world around. It also blurs and darkens her from the world. Sir Marcel stops just before the sea of tents, and all the other knights do the same, jumping off their horses and handing them over to the stable boys.

"My lady," Sir Niklaus says, materializing beside her and offering her a hand before she even has the opportunity to try and climb down on her own.

Candidly, she accepts his kindness. He helps her down, his hand lingering on her waist while he steadies her. Close. Too close. She can see shards of golden glittering in the blue of his eyes, like embers burning through a frozen lake. Their skins don't even touch and yet it's like she's been stung.

Caroline stumbles backwards, straightening her posture.

Be a painting.

As soon as she turns away, she realizes silence has befallen the crowd, a ripple of uncertainty running through the sea of beating hearts ahead. All eyes are on her. She shifts nervously on her feet; not very princess-like, she reckons, but almost impossible to avoid.

Suddenly, she notices the crowd parting, diffidently stepping aside as someone makes their way among them. Caroline's heart races manically in her chest, blood pounding so loud in her ears she can hardly hear her own screaming thoughts.

This is it. This is him.

If the people had been eyeing her with curiosity, the looks directed towards him are made of pure, unadorned adoration. They have gathered all here today more to be close to him than they've come to see her. Of this, Qetsiyah warned her about. The king is loved by his people. They would die for him, just as he would die for them.

"Your Grace, King Elijah of Orleans," Sir Marcel announces, voice booming over the hushed whispers. "I introduce you to Princess Caroline of Forbes, daughter of King William."

His smile builds slowly, but it is as warm as the look in his eyes. He offers a courteous bow before her, taking her gloved hand in his and lifting it up to his mouth for a brief kiss. She can't even properly feel the touch of his lips, but it burns through the fabric, a spread of heat rising in her chest.

She heard so much about Elijah of Orleans, but it was all about the legend, very little about the man. She was afraid of what that first impression would reveal, what would sing through her the moment she set her eyes on him; it would be the key to Caroline's entire life in this new kingdom, to her entire mission. But all she gets is an enormous sense of comfort. Instantly, she knows he's someone she can trust, as noble and truthful as the stories paint him.

"My lady," he says smoothly, his voice calm but strong.

What the stories failed to mention was how handsome he is, albeit nothing like his half-brother. The crooked grin on his lips is discreet, but so very charming. Where Niklaus' skin is fair, his is tanned from spending too much time under the sun; his hair is as dark as his eyes, and he keeps it even shorter than his brother; where Niklaus' blue eyes are made of impenetrable steel, his are mysterious, but intelligent and welcoming.

His crown is simple, just a silver band, barely noticeable, but it fits him so perfectly he might as well have been born with it.

When he lifts her veil, eyes roaming her face, she holds her breath in, suddenly terribly aware of her own appearance, and how different she probably is from what he was expecting. King William's real daughter had hair as dark as the night, her skin was immaculate like porcelain, her hands had no calluses. Caroline's hair, although tied in an intricate braid, is curly and wild, having grown without the discipline of being properly brushed like a real lady's should. The constellation of freckles across the bridge of her nose tells the story of her life before the months in the convent, free and under the sun. No princess bears such marks on their delicate features. No princess grows up like a wild thing, tasting of magic.

Still, Elijah smiles, apparently pleased with what he sees. Or maybe he's just glad to have her here.

He holds her hand again, turning her towards the crowd so his people - his subjects, his friends and his knights - can take a good look. His newest, shiniest belonging. They erupt into merry applause, roaring with excitement before he's even spoken.

"Behold!" he announces, lifting her hand in the air. "Your future queen, Caroline of Orleans!"

[capsironunderoos]

I Told You So

Sergeant Hunter X Female!Reader

Request: @mandos-crest​ Sergeant Hunter is absolute putty around the reader. He denies it to his brothers, but it’s totally obvious. He’s over protective and whipped for them, and the reader is completely oblivious too! The Bad Batch think Hunter is being super nice.

Word Count: 1,413

Warnings: None! But there is a suggestive scene with a bad dude in a bar...

Author’s Note: Hey hey! Sorry this took me so long to crank out, I really wanted it to meet your request! I hope you like it! 

Also, italics mean past tense, and some of this is in Omega’s POV!

Here’s a link to my masterlist: capsironunderoos masterlist

“There it is, that look I was telling you about,” Hunter hears mumbled behind him, but he doesn’t acknowledge it. 

He’s too busy watching you play with Omega. You’re sitting cross-legged on the ground, nodding along with Omega as she tells you a story. You idly hold her stormtrooper doll as she holds Lula, both of you fully engrossed in the story Omega is telling. 

“He looks like he’s about to burst into song,” he hears someone else mumble, and he rolls his eyes as he casts one last glance your way before turning to see Echo and Tech standing behind him, arms crossed in front of their chest as they stand in identical positions. 

“What is this, an intervention?” Hunter asks, missing the way your gaze now shifts to watch him speaking with Echo and Tech. 

“Of sorts,” Tech starts, and Hunter huffs. 

“I told you we’d leave as soon as we gathered some more supplies and made a few minor repairs to the ship,” he starts, referring to the dreadfully hot planet the crew had to make a last-minute landing on. 

“As good as that would be, we’re actually referring to… something else,” Echo clears his throat at Tech’s wording, and he sighs before correcting it. “Someone else,” he amends. 

“Oh no, no. We’re not talking about this again,” Hunter counters, and you continue to watch him as his arms swing as he speaks, his hands emphasizing his words. 

A smile plays on your lips and Omega looks up from Lula when she notices you’ve fallen quiet. Her eyebrows furrow as her mind begins to work. 

“I think we need to,” Echo responds, and Hunter’s shoulders drop. “You can’t go five minutes without asking where she is, without being near her. She even took a nap in your quarters last hyperspace jump!” Tech adds rather factually, and Hunter sends a pointed look his way. 

“Omega…” he mutters and shakes his head. “Listen, I see where you’re coming from, but I worry about all of you. And yes maybe I worry about her a little bit more, but it’s because of what she means to Omega.” 

“And to you,” Wrecker adds from behind him, and he sighs again. 

“Not you too,” he responds, turning to send a somewhat disappointed look to Wrecker. 

Omega has pieced it together. 

You like Hunter! 

She’s not entirely sure what that means, but she knows that you don’t look at the others the same way you look at him. She knows that he looks at you the same way, and that it means something... important. The two of you take care of everyone that’s true, but the care you share for each other is… different. It’s sweeter, softer, and she’s noticed it. 

She’s not the only one. 

“Okay that was one time!” Hunter argues, hands thrown up in aggravation and growing defeat. 

“It definitely was not! I can point to three different scuffs on your armor right now that are from you jumping in-between her and a blaster bolt, and those are just the ones I witnessed.” Echo counters. 

“I would take a blaster bolt for any of you, although that sentiment weakens each time we have this conversation,” Hunter retorts. 

“Fine, what about our last job for Sid hmm?” Hunter knows what Tech is referencing. 

You had volunteered to go undercover at a seedy bar, and Hunter was adamantly against it. He’d pulled you aside just before the mission, hand gripping your arm as he pulled you into a shadowed alley, eyes searching yours for even a hint of doubt. Any inkling that it wasn’t what you wanted and he would call it, no questions asked and credits be damned. 

“Hunter,” you whispered, hand coming to rest on his armor-covered chest, “I’ll be fine. I made my way through the galaxy before I met you. I can handle one womp rat in a bar, okay? And if not, you’ll only be one comm call away.” 

He still searches your eyes as he begins to speak, “What if you can’t get to your comms hmm? What if I’m too late? What if something happens and I can’t get to you?” He whispers, a strain in his voice. 

You smile softly and shake your head. 

“That would never happen. You always keep me safe.” 

“That creep had it comin’,” Hunter counters, albeit weakly. 

“He was walking right into our trap, you know, that we set up as a group, that we all agreed on? You definitely cost us those credits, and you know why.” Tech adds, still upset about the loss of credits from that particular mission. 

Hunter watches from a booth across the bar, eyes never leaving your back as he watches you flirt with the Twi’Lek saddled beside you. His body is turned to face yours, legs braced on either side of your stool so that you’re somewhat trapped with him. His left arm rests against your lower back, and his right is braced on the countertop of the bar. He leans over every so often to whisper in your ear and your shoulders shake with giggles. 

It’s enough to make Hunter want to punch him into the Outer Rim, but he stays seated. He watches for a few more minutes, telling himself to trust you, to trust the plan. 

The Twi’Lek moves again, this time his left hand moves from your lower back to brush your hair off of your shoulder before leaning in and beginning to press kisses to your bare shoulder. 

Hunter swears under his breath.

He watches as the Twi’Lek’s right hand grabs your chin, his left resting once more on your lower back. He’s pulling you into him, and Hunter is grinding his teeth so hard that his jaw will be sore for the next few weeks. He notices your hands bracing against his chest, slipping against the material of his shirt as you try and push him off of you. He pulls harder, suddenly showing enough strength to pull you completely into his lap. His left hand wraps around your stomach, pressing you into him, as his right hand begins to trail up your thigh. 

Hunter sees you struggling and is out of his seat so fast that he briefly registers the sound of his chair hitting the floor. He sees red as he knocks people out of his path, not hesitating to grab the shoulder of the Twi’Lek. 

“When a lady says no, she means no,” Hunter growls, pulling you behind him before throwing the Twi’Lek onto the floor of the bar. 

“I had him,” he hears you yell over the sound of his fist connecting with the Twi’Lek’s jaw. 

“I know you did,” he sighs as he lands another punch. 

“Okay,” Hunter agrees, nodding slowly, “that was my fault. But none of you saw what I did.” 

“Fine. What about your last few rations?” Wrecker brings up, and Hunter’s stomach decides to growl on cue. “We’re running low on food, but she always gets a full portion. And I don’t know the last time I saw you eat!” Wrecker yelps, and Hunter shushes him. 

“Let’s circle back to the nap, shall we?” Tech starts. “You let her sleep in your room, Hunter. In your room. The room that you specifically picked because it’s the farthest away from everyone on the ship. I don’t even know how to get to your room, if I’m being quite frank with you.” 

Hunter stands rigidly still as Tech talks to him, and Omega continues to watch you watch him. She smiles as she stands, handing Lula to you. 

“Here, I’ll be back,” she says, and you nod, still watching Hunter, mind not fully focused on the current conversation. Omega almost laughs at you as she begins to walk towards Hunter. The closer she gets the more their conversation becomes audible. 

“You like her, Hunter. You look at her differently, and you protect her in ways I’ve never seen you protect anything, or anyone for that matter. Yes, you look out for us, but not in the same way, and you know it.” Echo is finishing softly as Omega walks up, the conversation falling silent as they notice her appearance. 

They all look at her for a moment before she lays a hand on Hunter's arm, patting it reassuringly. 

“It’s okay Hunter, she likes you too!” Omega says, a large smile on her face. Hunter's eyes widen as Wrecker laughs. 

“Told you so!”  

[the-witty-pen-name]

Deadbeat Pt. 2

Lee Bodecker x F!Reader

18+ ONLY

Read Part One

Warnings: age gap (reader is 21), smut, cursing, abandonment, infatuation, cheating/divorce, angst, mild housewife kink, this chapter talks about Reverend Teagardin/his actions towards the young girls in the story (nothing is described in detail- just accusations discussing how he gives off bad vibes and is creepy- if you’ve seen the film you already know)

Word Count: 5k

Summary: You work at the bar at the edge of town, the Sheriff is going through a divorce and needs to rent a room.

A/N: I’m terrible at writing summaries and I’m so sorry about that! I don’t think I would consider this a dark!fic, but it does cover a lot of themes, and topics that are darker than I usually write about- but I think that comes with the territory of writing about Lee Bodecker. I’ll make sure to update the warnings for each chapter and do not read if you are underage. I also ignored canon for this one.

I hope you all enjoy!

Tags and Requests are OPEN

It was always so hot in that little one room chapel. There was no fan and everyone would be crushed in together like sardines. The air was always sticky and it turned everyone sluggish. Your mama never brought you and Tommy to church, but you saw how that singled you out in this community. The judgmental looks people would give you for not going always made you feel like they viewed your family as trailer trash. So when they left, you started going regular like everyone else. You wanted to make a good impression and give yourself an opportunity to be more involved in the community. You used to attend with Arvin’s family, but now you sit on the opposite side of the aisle.

You and Arvin were still on friendly terms. On your nights off, sometimes you’d be invited to join them for supper. Ever since you and Arvin broke up, you’ve politely denied his grandmother’s thoughtful invitations. Now that you were living alone with the Sheriff, you wouldn’t anticipate any more neighborly invitations but instead prayers to save your soul, like you weren’t already damned for ‘peddling the Devil’s drink’ as you’ve heard alcohol referred to so many times by Ms. Russell.

You didn’t care much for the new reverend, and you found yourself often zoning out during his sermons. You were more preoccupied with the uncomfortableness of the pews and how your thighs felt like you’d be ripping giant band-aids off the back of them when you stand up after the service ended- even if it was a cooler day. Reverend Teagardin made a terrible first impression in your opinion, and he never did nothing to make you think you were misjudging him. You trusted the Sheriff’s advice to steer clear of him. Though based on the liking he’d taken to talking to the high school aged girls after service ended, you were thinking you were too old for him anyways. You shook your head, chastising yourself for joking about something like that even just to yourself. You made sure to tell Lee whenever he did something to tip you off that he might be trouble. You didn’t trust him one bit.

After the service, you were almost ambushed by a couple of women who were notoriously known for being the town’s busy bodies. The shorter of the two was Ethel Perry, who absolutely wreaked of cigarette smoke and always carried a little beaded purse. The other was Ida Sinclair, whose hair was a silver blue, and always wore a turtleneck and a thick sweater overtop even in the middle of hot summer days. They were sweet ladies, and normally you’d love to gab and let them fill you in on all the town gossip. They were great to talk to. But now that you were on the other side of their gossip, their nice demeanor felt much more predatory now that they were seeking you out for information instead of sharing it.

“Sweetheart,” Ida said sweetly, cornering you outside by the steps. “You poor thing how are you holding up?” You were buttoning up your jacket, when the pair snuck up on you, catching you off guard.

“Oh Mrs. Sinclair, I’m doing just fine. No need to worry about me,” you say, giving them a small smile.

“Is it true you’re renting a room to Sheriff Bodecker?” Ms. Perry interjects, not even bothering with the small talk. You almost respected her more direct approach, the small talk Ms. Sinclair was attempting to make made you feel a tinge resentful of their attitude towards you.

“Yes, ma’am,” you reply, not giving her anymore details. If she wanted the gossip, she’d need to own up to being direct in her behavior.

“We heard Janie kicked him out of the house,” Mrs. Sinclair said, her face plastered with worry like she felt sorry for the man. You smiled through your teeth and nodded.

“Makes sense,” Ms. Perry added, “Him needing a room and with your mama leaving you here alone and all.”

“Yes, ma’am,” you say smiling through your teeth, you hadn’t realized you were grinding down on them that hard.

“Ms. Beaumont was going on and on yesterday about how it wasn’t fitting,” Ms. Perry continued. “You being a young single girl- working at that terrible bar, renting out a room to a man. She was insinuating something awful- but don’t worry dear. We know she’s just being meddlesome and trying to stir the pot where she shouldn’t.”

“Thank you, Ms. Perry,” you responded, sarcastically but they didn’t pick up on it. “It was lovely seeing you both,” you say, stepping away, “but I should be heading home now.”

“Too bad the Sheriff doesn’t come to Church,” Mrs. Sinclair, said, “He could be driving you, so you don’t have to be walking.”

The Sheriff worked on Sunday mornings and both of them knew that. You knew it was just an attempt to insinuate something else you didn’t have the patience to try to decode. You just nodded as a goodbye and started walking home. It never took long to walk, and you wouldn’t bother the Sheriff for a ride unless you really needed one- like if it was bad weather or if you were leaving work too late at night. You didn’t mind walking at all- gave you a chance to just clear your head and enjoy the fresh air, especially after getting out of that stuffy chapel.

You knew the Sheriff actually wasn’t working today. He told you this morning he was going to the courthouse to sign his divorce papers and then to pick up his stuff at the house. You’d see him later on that night when he finished that whole mess. It was the quickest divorce you’d ever seen. Neither one of them seemed to care to get lawyers. Based on what Lee told you so far, he really just was fine with her taking anything she asked for- including the house. His indifference to the whole thing really was like no divorce you’d ever heard about. You sympathized, because it was just him not wanting to prolong the painful ordeal of it all. He just wanted to get it all over and done with, and you understood that.

When you got home, you changed out of your Sunday dress and into some work clothes. A pair of overalls, a short sleeved tshirt and a pair of your old saddle shoes. You protected your hair with a bandana and decided to get to work. You got some free cardboard boxes from the grocer yesterday, and you resolved to help Lee out and clear out all of your mom’s old stuff. You told him when he left to leave the door unlocked for you and it would be cleared out as best you could get it so he’d had somewhere to put his stuff when he got back.

You started with the closet and getting rid of all her clothes. You’d call the donation center tomorrow and they’d send someone to come pick it all up. You weren’t sentimental about anything that belonged to her. Much like the Sheriff and his divorce, you just wanted to get this stuff out of the house and get the chore over with. You kept the photographs, and some of the things you knew might be worth something, like any of the jewelry she’d left in her jewelry box. You took anything that was hers and either tossed it or put it in the large donation pile.

You knew the weather tonight would be fine, so you opted to carry all the boxes outside and stack them on the porch. You figured it would be better and easier to deal with if you piled the full boxes outside before they came tomorrow. You didn’t touch Tommy’s room. You figured there was no need, and he was the only one out of the two you had a small amount of hope would someday come back, even if it was just to visit.

You closed the first box, and carried it down the hall and down the stairs slowly because it blocked your vision. At the bottom of the stairs, you propped the box on your hip so you could open the door. You then walked sideways out of the front door to drop it on the porch. As you were walking out you saw the familiar cruiser, driving down the road. You smiled, actually liking the feeling of having someone living with you. It was a little exciting. It was clouded by terrible circumstances on both your parts, but you hadn’t realized how lonely you had been living alone- even if it had only been a couple of days of Lee being here.

When Lee saw you walk out on the porch, he almost hit the garage door. You looked absolutely gorgeous, sweaty from working around the house and moving boxes. His heart felt strained in his chest when you smiled at him. That right there made his whole shitty day worth it. He hated facing Janie, scribbling his signature fast as ever on every document thrown at him. He hated that she was there with Miller, him standing behind her with his hand on her shoulder comforting her, like she wasn’t the adulterer in the room. It was infuriating.

He felt like a stranger in his own goddamn house, rummaging through everything grabbing what was his. Janie watched him like a hawk, following him around and saying nothing, like he wasn’t to be trusted to not take something. What like he’d steal something that was his? He hardly spoke two words to her. Miller sitting in his recliner, watching the news on the television. She made no attempt to even shield him from the look of another man living there. She wasted no time, announcing she’d be marrying the bastard as Lee was leaving. He mumbled a ‘congratulations’ and loaded the few boxes he had into the trunk of the cruiser.

Now seeing you there standing on the porch, all the bullshit he had to put up with today seemed worth it. It was grounding. He sighed, tossing his hat on the seat, and zipping up his leather jacket- ignoring the way it was fitting a little snugger. As he fumbled with the zipper, his mind started to wander- thoughts always clouded with you. He was usually able to keep his feeling pushed away when he was out, but the second he would see you again, all progress was lost. And here you are, like you were waiting for him to come back to you.

“I still have a few more boxes,” you say as he closes the door to the cruiser.

“I can move them,” he tries to protest, but you’ve already disappeared back into the house. He gets his own boxes out of the trunk and brings them into the house, leaving them on the living room floor for now. He hangs up his coat on the coatrack, on the hook next to yours, and then heads up the narrow staircase to see if he can help you. He gets to his room and he stops in the doorway, dead in his tracks. You’re on the floor, on your knees in front of a box, using a roll of packing tape to secure it shut. His heart stops and he’s frozen. He stutters to make himself known, but you don’t seem to notice the way he reacted to you. He’s relieved that you don’t seem to miss a beat, pushing the box in his direction, your way of telling him he can bring it outside. You stretch over and pull another box in front of you and begin placing folded clothes that were on the floor inside just to fill it to the brim completely before closing it.

That silent assembly line of the two of you makes the work go by quick. You have six large boxes ready to get picked up tomorrow sitting on the front porch, and Lee is able to bring his stuff upstairs. You decide to let him have some time to just settle, and you get started on what to do for dinner when you see it getting pretty late in the afternoon.

There was never any spoken agreement that you’d both eat together. It just kind of happens on its on the past two nights he’s been here. You’d be making dinner for yourself anyways, and making something for two isn’t that much more work. You know he doesn’t expect you to cook for him at all, but since you were taking up the kitchen anyways you don’t mind. You weren’t the best cook, but you’re pretty sure your cooking beats a cold sandwich from the diner.

Upstairs, Lee was letting his emotions get the best of him. His ever-present feelings for you- he actually wasn’t sure what it was. Maybe it was just an attraction, or maybe he was so used to coldness from Janie that he’s falling apart at a woman being nice to him and treating like a person. He needed to pull himself together. He closed his eyes for a second, picturing how you looked packing the boxes up. On your knees, the overalls hugging your figure, the little bit of sweat on your brow- it was the best sight he ever got the pleasure of seeing. He looks at the mirror that sat in the corner of the room. He sighs looking over his appearance.

There’s no way a beautiful, young girl like you would look at him the same way, as much as he wished it. His slightly protruding stomach, a sign of all the drinking and his bad diet. He had a little bit of a double chin from angles as well. He sticks is neck out to try to remember what his face looked like when his jaw was more defined. He realizes how ridiculous he was being. He didn’t think you were the kind of person to care that much about the things that very much bothered him. He runs a hand through his hair, and continues to hang up his shirts in the closet. You were turning him soft, and you had no idea.

He hears you coming up the stairs, and he feels his heartbeat quicken like you were going to catch him thinking about you. He was being so stupid, he chastises himself. He couldn’t have you affecting him like this. He turned his head and catches your eye as you are heading into the bathroom in the hallway.

“Just washing up before supper,” you say casually, and heading into the bathroom. He had to pull himself together. He sighed, thinking about your sweetness and hospitality ever since he showed up at your door two nights ago. You welcomed him into your home without a second thought. You trusted him, and that made him feel even more guilty. He couldn’t be thinking that anything between the two of you could happen. He needed to be a good man. But Christ, how even could a good man keep himself in check when he’s in such close quarters with you?

“Made mac and cheese with some grilled chicken if you’re hungry,” you say, not looking back at him but just immediately heading back down the hallway and down the stairs. He watched you walk away, biting his lip at how your ass looked in that denim. He gently hits his head against the mirror, like that’s somehow going to snap him out of it. He makes a fist and then stretches out his hands like that will do anything.

“Ms. Perry and Mrs. Sinclair cornered me outside Church today,” you said with a chuckle, as he came into the kitchen.

“Yeah?” he asks, taking the plate you hand to him. He opens up the drawer and grabs silverware for him and yourself while you put your plate together.

“Yeah,” you grinned, biting your lip. “I’m the talk of the town apparently.”

“I’m sorry about that, hun,” he says sympathetically, “That’s all my fault.”

“No, it’s not,” you say, walking over to your kitchen table and taking a seat. “I find them kind of funny,” you shrug, “They were talking about me long before this and this is just the newest thing.”

“What did they say?” he asks, as he takes his seat across from you. It was a small table, only was able to seat two comfortably, anymore would be too crowded.

“They think I should be using you as a ride to Church,” you reply, “Also that our situation ain’t fitting according to Ms. Beaumont. But they insisted they don’t think that at all.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” he grins.

“I thought she was gonna ask me how much I’m charging you for rent next,” you scoff before taking a bit of food.

“Do they bother you?” he asks. He felt bad at how this living situation would affect you. He understood how much keeping up appearances mattered in this town. If someone were to start a nasty rumor, your name would be tarnish all over town. You might as well start wearing a big red A on your jacket.

“Not really,” you shrug. “It bothered me in the moment, cause they cornered me, but I have no reason to be worried. It’s not like anything they say is gonna amount to anything without evidence. They can insinuate all they want.”

The word evidence hung heavy on his mind. His brain running through scenarios if you both actually had something worth hiding. Kissing you in the backseat of the cruiser pulled into some back road by the water somewhere or sneaking touches under the table at the diner. It wouldn’t be wrong, not really, he thought to himself. You’re an adult and if you felt the same way fuck what the town would think.

You actually thought the Sheriff was quite handsome. You hadn’t really been able to look past how intimidating he looked sometimes or his gruff exterior. The man sitting across from you was not like the guy that makes the town cower away from him at times. He was relaxed, his face especially. It was a rare form for him. The man seemed to constantly be stressed, full of pent-up tension, no doubt due to the stress of his job. You noticed that his eyes looked softer, and how blue they were. Suddenly, you realized it was just you and him- alone. Living in your house. You felt your face heat up, and he picked up on your change in demeanor.

“You alright?” he asks, looking over at you.

“Yeah,” you say, a little nervously. “Just need some water.”

You get up and head over to the cabinet next to the sink, and you reach up to get yourself a glass. Suddenly, you feel his presence behind you, making you jump. He’s just reaching to get himself a glass too, his body pressing very lightly against you. He gives you a concerned look as you look flustered and you let out a small gasp.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare ya,” he says, and you could almost swear you saw him smirking. He takes his glass over to the fridge and pours himself some of the iced-tea from the pitcher you keep inside the fridge.

“I think you’re right about Reverend Teagardin,” you say, trying desperately to reorient yourself.

“He’s no good,” Lee agreed. “He’s crooked. Just be careful around him, sweetheart.” Those damn pet names were making your stomach churn with butterflies.

“I think I’m too old to be on his radar,” you admit quietly, in a rushed tone. Your accusation hushed, even if it was just you and Lee.

“You see him do anything?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

“No, not really,” you say, “but he talks for an awful long time to the high school aged girls after services. I don’t know it just gives me a gut feeling about him. Those poor girls, like Lenora- they don’t know when their being sweet talked and manipulated. Just makes me nervous. Married man talking to those girls so shamelessly- charming them.”

“I’ll try to swing by and check the place out,” he nods, looking a little lost in thought.

“That’ll make me feel so much better,” you smile. He grins and licks his lips, before taking a swig of his drink.

You both take a seat at the table again, finishing up dinner fairly quickly. You asked him about his day and he told you all about Miller and the papers, and you listened intently. You felt bad he had to go through that. Yeah, Lee was not a picture-perfect husband by any means, you were sure. But the actions he faced today still sounded harsh. Somewhere in your mind, you thought he deserved better. Maybe he didn’t, but the man was clearly in pain and it tugs at your heartstrings.

“Since you made dinner, I can clean up,” he offered.

“That’s really sweet. Thanks, Lee,” you smile shyly. This all felt so… domestic. You were acting like a married couple. It’s not like the two of you could help it. You were living under the same roof and existing in the same space. This is how people who live together interact. That’s it. Right?

“I think I’ll call and leave a message at the donation center so they send someone to get those boxes tomorrow,” you decide. You head over to the living room where you kept your phone, pulling out your address book out of a drawer in the table the phone rested on. Lee nodded, taking your dishes and his own over to the sink.

You sit on the couch, criss cross and hold the base of the phone on one knee, resting the receiver up to your ear with your elbow. You dial the number, the phone clicking every time the dial falls back into place.

Lee can’t make out what you are saying, but he chuckles recognizing the tone of voice you use- like a customer service voice he’ll hear you pull out at the bar often. He does the dishes, and just lets himself escape into his fantasies again. His mind was racing about what those women at Church thought was happening between the two of you. He knows its wrong, but god he wishes it was real.

He imagines that after you both have gone to bed you show up at his door in the middle of the night- looking like how you did the night you agreed to let him stay. You confess how much you want him and he just pulls you into a rushed kiss- you just overtaken by the sudden relief of all the pent-up tension. He imagines how it would feel to hear little moans against his lips coming from you when he slips his tongue into your mouth. He can almost feel what it would be like to have you tightly against his body. His hands being allowed to just freely explore you and how you must look under him, begging and needy-

“Okay, that’s all set,” you announce walking back into the kitchen. “Hopefully they’ll send someone over first thing.”

“G-good, yeah,” he stutters out, pulling himself out of his daydream. “Do you have work tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I go in at 4,” you reply, not noticing how flustered he is. He’s relieved to see you looking in the fridge and it gives him a chance to adjust before you saw how hard he was.

“Need a ride?” He asks. “I can pick you up on my way home.”

“Perfect,” you smile when you turn to face him. “Thank you. I’m gonna see if there is anything good on the television we can watch.”

“Sounds good, doll,” he says, relieved when she finally heads back into the other room, taking her seat on the couch again, clicking through the channels.

He needed a minute before heading in there. Every time you were in the room he felt like his skin was on fire. He knew if he wanted to stay, he needed to get a grip. He sighed, rubbing his face with his hands. He joined you in the living room and sat on the other end of the couch. There was an old picture playing on the black and white set.

Neither of you could pay attention to the damn screen no matter how hard you tried. The tension in the room- between the both of you was borderline unbearable. Both of you were stealing glances at the other, not realizing the other person was doing the same. When you would look over to him, his eyes would be toward the tv set, seeming to be watching the picture- but he also looked incredibly tense. You wondered if he was hanging out with you because he felt like he needed to. You feel awkward now thinking he’s just sitting though this to not be rude.

Lee was on the whole other side of the world in comparison to what you thought he was thinking about. He was trying desperately to gain some level of composure. He felt like he was acting like a teenager again, fucking jumping out of his skin sitting next to a pretty girl. He hadn’t felt like this in a very long time. An hour went by, neither of you saying anything- him just lost in his own thoughts. But then he felt your head hit his shoulder ever so lightly.

You had fallen asleep. He wondered how long you had been sleeping before he even realized. Here he was stressed out as ever and you are relaxed enough to fall asleep. He doesn’t even dare move. His whole body goes stiff, not wanting anything to wake you up. He wouldn’t move from this spot for all the money in the world. You were blissfully unaware at how you cuddled up next to him, your face resting in the crook of his neck. You were going to be the death of him.

He very carefully wanted to just make himself a little more comfortable. He slowly moved the arm you had pinned and adjusted so it was wrapped around your shoulder. His fingertips just grazing your skin where the sleeve of your t-shirt ended lightly. Your skin was so soft, and he bites his lip, thinking about how soft you must feel everywhere. The man was so goddamn touched starved. He couldn’t even remember the last time he was this close with Janie. It had to have been years since he experienced something this intimate. After a very long internal battle, he allowed himself to rest his head on top of yours and close his eyes for a few. He didn’t intend on falling asleep, just bask selfishly in the moment for a few minutes.

You opened your eyes and yawned softly. You looked at the clock and saw that it was well past midnight. You closed your eyes again, too tired to realize the position you were in at first. Then, a minute later you realized, and your eyes shot open again. Cuddled up to Lee’s side, his arm loosely around you. His head rested on the back of the couch, looking so peaceful.

Fuck. You were so embarrassed. You hoped he had fallen asleep first and would have no knowledge of this interaction in the morning. You carefully untangled yourself from him, moving as slow as possible to not wake him up.

You clicked off the TV and then turned off the lights, getting ready to retire up to your room for the night. You felt so hot, flushed with pure embarrassment. Your mouth was dry and the only thing you think about was cold water. You tip-toe into the kitchen and fill yourself a glass, drinking the whole thing at once. You turn off the kitchen light and leave your glass in the sick before heading upstairs.

You change out of your overalls and shirt and put on your blue nightgown. You head across the hall to the bathroom, navigating in the dark. You brush your hair, wash your face and brush your teeth before climbing into your bed and swaddling yourself with your many blankets. Your eyes are heavy, and the feeling of being in Lee’s arms is still present on your skin.

His large hands sliding up your thighs is what jolts you awake. His calloused hands moving their way up your body, pushing up your dress as they went. He dips down and presses a tantalizing kiss to your lips, one hand cupping your cheek softly and the other rubbing over your wet panties. You kiss him back, opening your mouth and letting his tongue in. You can feel his hand slip under the waistband of your panties and his thumb gently rubs your clit. Without even questioning anything, you moan and he trails his lips down to your neck, and you shiver at the feeling of his stubble. You arms wrap loosely around his neck, and your fingers play with the ends of his short hair. He groans against your skin and the sound just sends a shiver throughout your whole body. You can feel him smile, and he pushes two fingers inside. You gasp and he muffles your sounds with another deep kiss. You feel overwhelmed by how good it feels combined with the terms of endearment that fall from his lips as he praises you.

The ringing of your alarm clock scares the shit out of you, and your eyes fly open at the sound. You’re breathing heavily, and you feel your hair sticking to your forehead. You let out a heavy sigh, and click off the alarm, and then cover your face with your pillow. You felt how wet you were without having to check. You had a sex dream about Lee. A fucking wet dream about Lee Bodecker.

Part Three

Taglist:

@asylumaniac​

@rosalynshields 

@jiminlife2k18

@scar-is-bi

[pillage-and-lute]

An Ever Fixed Mark (arranged marriage Au)

Part 1 is here, finally! Title a reference to Shakespeare’s Sonnet 116.

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10

Read it on Ao3 HERE

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Vesemir’s slap hit Geralt firmly on the back of the head. Two seconds previously Geralt had been complaining about his upcoming, politically motivated marriage to some nobleman’s son. 

“It’s a good thing, lad. Other witcher schools would kill for something like this,” he said. Geralt knew it was right, legal punishment for those who shortchanged or attacked witchers. It set a precedent, and apparently the earl was very influential. It could change things.

“And there isn’t a fidelity clause,” Eskel said. “It doesn’t have to be more than a sort of partnership.”

“No consummation requirement either,” sniggered Lambert from the other side of the campfire. “You don’t even have to fuck the bugger if he’s ugly.” This earned him a sharp elbow from Eskel. 

“What I don’t understand is what they get out of this,” Geralt said. It had been bugging him. 

“Ah,” Vesemir said, looking uneasy. “It seems that the payment is...taking the viscount off of the Earl’s hands, officially. It seems he’s something of an embarrassment.”

The unease in Vesemir’s voice was subtle, but after so many decades with their teacher, the wolves of Kaer Morhen knew the slight variations of tone and expression. His discomfort was twofold, first, the obvious implication that the Earl was sending his son to live a dangerous life alongside a witcher in order to...deal with him. A death sentence, from father to son. The second was that Geralt, already saddled with a political marriage, was also to be saddled with a nuisance of a husband. 

“But why me?” Geralt knew he was whining like a child, but he couldn’t help it. It was three days to Lettenhove, and then they’d be there at least a week for the wedding and he’d have to act courtly. 

He wasn’t good at courtly.

When he thought about it none of them were. 

“It couldn’t have been me,” Eskel said, a little shyly. He was right. Eskel believed his scars were horrible, made him unlovable and undesirable. Geralt didn’t buy it, but nobles could get a bit stroppy about appearances. And if they humiliated Eskel because of his scarring...no, Geralt wouldn’t let that happen.

“Couldn’t have been me,” Lambert said, mouth full and rather cheerfully. No. It couldn’t have been him either, no manners and no filter, they’d be at war with the entirety of Lettenhove within a day.

“And I’m an old man,” Vesemir said. He didn’t actually wink, but he might as well have. Older though he was, he was still three times the warrior of any young human man walking about these days. But from what Geralt had heard, and it hadn’t been much, the Viscount was young, not quite twenty, and it wouldn’t be kind to marry him to someone so much older than himself. Geralt reflected grimly that he was nearly four times the youth’s age.

Three days of riding passed far too quickly for Geralt’s liking.

Chateau de Lettenhove loomed. It was a fairytale castle built by a man expecting a siege. There were high, rising towers with huge windows and artful buttresses, but to the trained eye of the witchers, it was a fortress. The towers had carved, decorative arrow slits, the windows all had iron grates over them, wrought like lace, and the buttresses could be easily used as defensive positions. All in all, it was a castle that growled, albeit genteelly.

They were greeted first by a footman, and then a line of servants increasing in rank, until a very snobby servant, likely the head housekeeper from the way all the maids scuttled away from her, brought them to an anteroom. At this point courtesy dictated that she bade them sit down on one of the lavish sofas. She did not. She chose instead to turn up her nose and sweep away.

The four witchers remained standing, not looking at one another. Geralt could feel Lambert stewing about the obvious slight beside him. He reached out, still staring straight ahead, and tweaked Lambert’s ear. 

This was about to result in much brotherly retribution and probably a brawl when the housekeeper returned, followed by another woman.

“His lordship the Earl of Lettenhove is attending to vital business,” the housekeeper said, tone of voice implying that the arrival of four witchers who were muddying her nice clean floor were certainly not vital. “I present, her ladyship, Countess Amaria Elizaveta de Lettenhove.” 

The countess curtsied, it was a polite little bob, and she smiled a little dazedly as the witchers all gave their best attempt at courtly bows. A small but significant part of Geralt’s brain was panicking, and it dealt with this new form of terror by imagining that the school of the wolf, seen from the outside plying their newly practiced bows, must look like a line of seagulls vying for a dropped crumb.

Vesemir stepped forward and, in a rather more suave gesture than Geralt had been expecting, took the Countess’ hand and bowed over it. Two bows seemed excessive to Geralt, but since it seemed to indicate that Vesemir would be taking over the speaking for now, he certainly wasn’t about to bring it up. 

“A pleasure to meet you, my lady,” Vesemir said, straightening and releasing her hand. “May I introduce the school of the wolf. Eskel is--”

The countess had waved a limp hand. “Plenty of time for that at the feast, deary,” she said, smiling dreamily. There was something in her eyes that was a little absent, possibly more than a little if her calling Vesemir ‘deary’ was anything to go by. Geralt looked the countess over. He had been given to understand through the brief letters from the Lettenhove estate, that this wasn’t the viscount-Julian, the letters said-’s mother, but rather his step mother. She was a petite lady with mousy hair and rather absent blue eyes. Her dress was obviously of very fine material, rose pink and probably silk, although Lambert would know better than him, but a simpler cut than Geralt had expected. 

His examination, done in a split second, decided that she wasn’t an immediate enemy, but probably not a terrible useful ally. 

“I’m to give you this courting gift,” here she proffered a small but beautifully carved wooden box. “And to show you to your quarters.” She smiled again, and it was warm, but still vapid.

“Custom usually dictates that the fiancé give the courting gift,” Vesemir said, cautiously taking the box.”

“My husband wanted someone else to present it,” she said. “But your grandson can give his gift in person when he meets Julian. Now what...” she trailed off, not even noticing Vesemir’s slight sputter at grandson. “Ah yes, your rooms, right this way please.”

She got lost on the way to their rooms and a shaking footman showed them up to a suite, then kindly took her by the hand and led her away.

They sat, silent, in the nice but not lavish quarters. Four beds in curtained alcoves off to the side, and in the middle a room with a table and chairs, and a sofa and more comfortable chairs in front of a fireplace. It was already blazing and the witchers stared into it for a minute.

“That was strange,” Eskel finally said, and the others just nodded.

“Should I have insisted on giving her our courting gift?” Geralt said after another pause. “I thought they were usually given in person.”

“I think you’re fine,” Vesemir said. “If they broke that tradition they can hardly fault you for doing the same.”

Lambert, sprawled across the sofa, said, “When’s dinner?”

“I think I’m supposed to meet Julian first,” Geralt said. “Someone will probably come get us. 

“When we meet Julian you mean,” Lambert said, sitting up. 

“No, I’ve been thinking about that and I want to meet him alone.”

Vesemir nodded, “Sensible, we don’t know how he will react to one witcher, let alone four.” Then he smirked, although not unkindly, at Lambert. “You will be introduced and have a chance to be nosy later. At dinner perhaps.”

They unpacked their belongings, potion bottles and swords looking out of place along the old but nicely carved furniture. After days of tension on the road as Geralt wound himself tighter and tighter with anxiety for his...wedding, yes his wedding, now this pause was jarring. Eskel tapped him on the shoulder and gave him a look.

Geralt turned around to give Eskel room to work.

On the Path, witchers are rarely, if ever touched. Certainly not in a friendly way if the other isn’t being compensated. It wasn’t therefore, unusual for the wolves of Kaer Morhen to be tactile with one another. Not hugging and cuddling sweetly, but rough housing and wrestling ending in exhausted dog piles. But Eskel had a gift, he had magic hands, literally and figuratively, and he carefully oiled his hands while Geralt took off his travel stained shirt. 

Geralt sunk into himself, half meditating as Eskel dragged the tension from his shoulders and beat the knots from his muscles. It wasn’t a relaxing massage, but it always left him feeling like liquid, if slightly bruised. When it was over and the liquid feeling had left him, or at least subsided enough that his knees could hold him, he stood, clapping Eskel on the shoulder in thanks.

Then came the hard bit.

Geralt needed to be courtly. He scrubbed the bits he could with water and a cloth from a little washstand, but he hoped he could have a hot bath later. Afterwards Vesemir advanced on him and battled the dirt from underneath his fingernails with a stiff brush before attacking his hair with a comb. Geralt sat on the ground like a child, his brothers looking on in amusement as Vesemir sat behind him on the couch and teased the tangles from his hair. He was making faces, he knew, but Vesemir wasn’t gentle, and he hadn’t detangled his hair in some time.

Scrubbed raw, with his hair floating around his shoulders like a silver cloud, Lambert presented him with a doublet. 

It was black, which was good.

That was the only good thing about it. It was most likely a very nice, extremely fashionable doublet. Lambert might take delight in embarrassing Geralt, but he didn’t mess about with clothing. The issue was that it was attention grabbing, it was subtle in a way that seemed to play itself down while actually drawing every eye. It was black, in the same way a raven’s wing was black, every shimmering shade shifting as the fabric moved.

And he would be wearing it. 

He did wear it. 

His hands shook as he buttoned it up. 

He was just examining himself in a slightly tarnished hand mirror when there was a sharp knock at the door. The footman let himself in right after and bowed swiftly. 

“I am to escort the witchers of Kaer Morhen to meet Lord Julian.”

“Just the one witcher,” Geralt said. Vesemir pressed his courting gift, and the little carved boxed nestled on top, into his arms.

The footman didn’t seem to care and simply turned away, leading Geralt through hallways that all looked the same and down two very winding staicases, the second of which was so narrow his shoulders actually brushed the walls. They stopped outside a plain wooden door. The footman bowed and smiled. It looked, Geralt couldn’t help but feel, rather cruel. Then he left. Geralt knocked softly on the door, feeling very large in the narrow, low ceilinged hallway.

Eskel had told him once of a myth he had read, about a beast, half man half bull, hidden away in a maze. Geralt felt like such a beast, too large and rough and probably going to barge in and do everything wrong.

“Come in.” 

It was soft, but not nervous, and Geralt pushed open the door. 

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Oooh I’m naughty for leaving it there, but it’s almost 2000 words already. @llamasdumpsterfire here it is at last, I hope it lives up to expectations.

[lubdubsworld]

Blackberry Winters.

Part 1

Namjoon Werewolf Au !

Alpha werewolf!

Heavy angst.! Pregnancy, unrequited love, hate to love, prejudice, mental health issues.

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There is a tide in the affairs of men, which , taken at the flood leads on to fortune. Opportunities had to be seized and made use of and you had to be bold and confident in order to lead your people to fortune.

Namjoon, as the head alpha of the Kim clan, knew this better than anyone else. Which was why he was here, in a meeting with alphas from the three neighbouring clans lining his boundary lines, hoping to get permission to access the seven or so aquifers that lay to the east of the packhouse.

The rains had been kind to them, the reservoirs were full but he wanted to make sure they had a backup plan just in case things went south in some way. His father had taught him that. Being prepared for the worst was second nature to him now. The land around the aquifers was rich and fertile and Jungkook had already let him plant tangerines and apples in the area for the little ones. The harvest was generally shared between the two clans and Namjoon was grateful for the easy camaraderie that the alpha of the land offered him.

The land belonged to alpha Jeon , a dear friend by all means and he knew that Jungkook would grant him permission as he always did . But still it was never a certainty. The council members had the final say and many of them held a grudge when he refused to marry Jungkook's sister last spring. That had been a no brainer for him. Junghee was beautiful but also like a sister to him, besides being incredibly intelligent. He didn't need a wife like that. And that was why he had picked, Jiah.

Sighing, Namjoon glanced back at the campsite where the women were gathered, sitting in small groups and laughing around a blazing fire while a few alphas hung about roasting meat and passing out moats of wine around . His eyes fell on his wife, timid and shy , sitting away from the rest and regret churned. He had been impulsive. She was ill suited to be his wife , and the last three months had been a bitter wake up call. Namjoon was well read, eloquent and bold. His wife was barely illiterate, with a stutter and shifty eyes that never met anyone's gaze head on.

He had chosen her because she had seemed docile and pliant and while she was definitely that, she was also ....at the risk of sounding rude and unkind, very very boring.

A simpleton. She seemed to know nothing about anything, content to disappear into the shadows, to hide and hang back and practically become one with the upholstery when he asked her to sit next to him.

It had been three months and they had barely spoken beyond a dozen words. It was awkward and stilted and just plain uncomfortable, sleeping with her. Sex was supposed to fun and passionate and filled with excitement and desire but with her , it was a chore he couldn't wait to cross off his list.

Leaning back against one of the poles holding up the makeshift tent, he watched her as she scooted away from one of the older omegas in the Jeon clan, the lady looking startled at the reaction. He shook his head in despair. He hadn't even wanted to bring her along but his mother had insisted. Something about her being young and innocent, too shy to stay behind with strangers for two whole weeks while he traveled to the Jeon's .

How was he supposed to explain that they were strangers as well ? That despite the label of mates, despite the fact that he had been the one to choose her, he felt nothing for her? Not even the idle curiosity one felt for strangers?

It was partly her demeanour, but mostly her appearance. She wasn't well groomed and it always made him frown. He had hoped that she would at least keep herself presentable, maybe hire the weavers to make her a few new tunics .

Something colorful and patterned like the ones the other omegas wore during festivities. The Kim clan had a lucrative fabric trade with the Min pack , and Yoongi and Hoseok always kept the most luxurious and vibrant silks and fabrics for him.

Jiah had shown a brief and fleeting interest in the luxurious threads, when his mother had brought her along to the tailor to get her wedding trousseau done....but the moment the young beta had asked her questions about her likes and dislikes, she had recoiled and went back into her shell. Namjoon had watched the whole scene, annoyance growing with every passing second. He wanted her to be pliant but also independent. Low maintenance . But apparently he would have to hold her hand through everything.

And that's when he'd begun to actively distance himself from his wife. He didn't have the time nor inclination to help her navigate her new life. He was busy, what with autumn coming to an end and the first chills of winter already beginning to permeate the air. The betas and alphas in the pack were already occupied with hunting enough meat to last them the winter, the women busy with curing the meat with spices and salt.....

He should have left her behind with them.

" A coin for your thoughts, Alpha Kim?"

Kim Jisoo came to stand by him, her scent of floral dust and vanilla cloyingly sweet on his senses. She had helped him with many a rut and he had always nurtured a sweet spot for the omega who was well versed in many languages. She was also one of the courtesans they had brought along for the evening entertainment. Jisoo slipped her hands through his arm and he smiled, letting her brush close to his torso.

His gaze went to his wife, who was staring at him, eyes blank and lips parted softly. She looked a little upset.

Which was understandable but still annoying. They weren't in love or anything and he wasn't cheating on her. Jisoo was a friend. He was allowed to have those. Jiah had no right to look at him with suspicion or with entitlement. He didn't owe her all her time. He wondered if she would react if he were to confront her now. As it is , he let himself stare right at her, half wishing that she would talk back to him.

But the moment their eyes met, Jiah looked away, entire body shifting as though in embarassment. He frowned , but lightly patted the soft fingers curled on his arm. He turned to Jisoo with a smile, taking in the pretty elfin features. The perfectly curled hair , threaded with gold and jeweler pins fell in soft ropes around her face, her lips tinted red and her cheeks brushed rose. She looked enchanting and unreal and he felt his blood stir in arousal, the need to feel her under him suddenly overwhelming.

He glanced back at Jiah and she looked a little green , her face ashen. His eyes narrowed when she shifted and looked around in a mild panic. Oh God, what was it now?

Irritable, he gently pulled away from the beautiful omega next to him.

" Excuse me, dear. I need to check on my wife." He said apologetically and she frowned staring at where he was looking.

"What's wrong?" Jisoo asked sharply but he ignored her, already moving to his mate.

Which was just as well, because the moment he reached her, her eyes rolled back and she toppled right into his arms.

She had fainted .

---------------------------------

" I'm sorry we had to cut this short but I hope your mate feels better soon, hyung." Jungkook's voice was laced with genuine concern and Namjoon nodded, hugging the younger alpha tight.

Junghee looked just as sympathetic, next to him.

" She'll be fine . I tried to get her to stay but she's been panicking a lot and refuses to let any of the healers here examine her. I think she'll be more comfortable with your pack healer. " She said gently.

Namjoon nodded, glancing back at Jiah who sat side-saddle on one of the smaller ponies, her eyes wide and face still ashen. He had tried to tell her it would be okay , but she had insisted on going home. The stark terror on her face had unsettled him deeply. He didn't know why she was so scared of the Jeon healer? Could it be because he was a man? Whatever the reason she hadn't let him examine her and because he couldn't ask her to just forget about the whole thing ( he was still head alpha , he still had to set an example as a caring mate. ) Namjoon had been forced to arrange for their return back home.

He had left Seokjin and Taehyung behind to carry the talks on his behalf, and Jisoo stood a few dozen feet away looking annoyed as he gave her

an apologetic smile.

The journey back to the Main village would be a couple of days and he had packed enough food for the both of them.

As he turned back to mount his stallion, he caught a glimpse of her face as she stared at him.

She looked lost , apologetic and clearly upset.

And he wondered if he would have to spend the rest of his life reading her face, trying to figure her out.

He has no interest in either.

-------------------------

The journey became incredibly tiring, especially when the skies opened up on them. Rain Lashed the ground , intent on soaking the earth and Namjoon watched her shiver, trembling as they all huddled beneath the shade of some trees, blankets wrapped tight around her thin torso. Why was she so thin? Why did she look at food like it was poisoned?

They were only a mile from home but had to stop, the deluge was far too strong for the animals to see ahead of them.

Namjoon himself sat next to an omega from the clan. He recognised her as one of the maids his mother had given to Jiah.

" Is your mistress doing well?" He asked gruffly and the omega startled, bowing twice in respect before answering.

"I...she ... She doesn't say much, alpha." The girl blushed under his gaze, looking away nervously and he frowned, glancing back at Jiah.

So it wasn't just him, then. She didn't trust anyone. He stared at her till she felt the heat of his gaze and looked up, eyes wide like a startled bird, like one of the starlings that nested in the wooden beams of his hut. She looked surprised, then terrified, eyes darting away at once and he tried not to growl in sheer frustration.

He wondered if it was because of his face.

Namjoon had no large feelings about his looks but he knew he was far from beautiful. ( A/N : A whole lie , I know but please bear with me for the story :*) it was one of the reasons he had wanted a plain looking bride. But perhaps his own chosen mate had , had dreams of marrying a very handsome man? Perhaps she had been infatuated with someone like that , from the clan?

It wasn't a far fetched idea. But still, she had been free to refuse his proposal. When he had first met the clan's watchkeeper, old man Gong in the humble hut on the outer borders of the pack land, he had made it clear that it wasn't some kind of order. She was free to refuse.

But she hadn't.

She had merely bowed and agreed and promptly appeared with a satchel full of her things and followed him back to his own home.

So why did she continue to act like she was here against her will?

It irked him no end.

As the skies cleared, they began their trek again and Namjoon pushed thoughts of her out of his mind. He had to plan for the winter, make sure there was enough food and also make sure they had enough herbs and liniments and oils in the apothecary. Mind drifting off to the countless things he was responsible for, Namjoon forgot all about his awkward mate and the reason they were going back home in the first place.

Which is why, when they reached home and he took his bath, cleaning himself up and finally settling down to some delicious food from the kitchens , his mother's words made him drop the chopsticks in shock.

" She is with child."

Namjoon stared at his mother in complete shock.

Fuck.

---------------------------------------------

Authors Note : I had this idea and just had to write it. Hope you guys enjoyed it.

[yolkyeomie]

The Art of Hearts | Lee Juyeon

summary — trembling hands? flushed face? nervous stuttering? this wasn’t like you, you’ve never reacted like this to anyone before. so why is it that when you were with him you acted this way?

word count — 17.2k words

pairing — juyeon x female!reader (w/ mentions of chanhee, sunwoo, younghoon, and hyunjae)

genre — princess!reader, knight!juyeon, fluff with a hint of angst if you really squint, slowburn-ish, strangers to lovers-ish

disclaimer — mentions of minor violence and sword fighting !! I spent three days writing this through a hyper fixation and I REFUSE to get this beta read, so if u see any errors pretend like you didn’t see it at all 👁 this is also really self indulgent and I’ve never even written for tbz I’m so so sorry if this is extremely inaccurate

I.

You were a little upset with yourself, you weren’t going to lie. For the past few months you had found yourself curiously leaning over your balcony railing, trying your best to catch a quick glance of all the knights in training that were just a few feet below. Eagerly you watched as they honed their skills, determination fueling their bones as they swung, slashed, and clanged their dull and worn out swords against each other in a mock battle.

They fought with all their might to become the next knights of your kingdom’s army or the next royal guards that would patrol the palace with the king and his family. Though, you knew that your mere presence made them strive for their goal even harder than before. Who wouldn’t want to demonstrate their rising abilities in front of the princess of their nation?

Your prying eyes made them itch with anticipation and wonder. Will they get a chance to greet you if they flaunted hard enough? To take your dainty hands in theirs, rough with hard work and tenacity, and place a gentle kiss atop your skin?

You weren’t interested in them, per se. In fact you had never been very interested in the upcoming knights that trained in the barracks below you. Since you were a child, the tiara and gown lifestyle wasn’t really for you, longing to hold the hilt of a long sword within your hands and slash your opponent in one clean swing. You wanted to fight, you wanted to run, you wanted to get rough and dirty with the knights that were sworn to protect your kingdom. It had been your biggest dream and fascination to even sit in on one singular match between the generals and their young and hopeful squires.

However, the amount of times you’ve been scolded for your unattainable dreams was too many to count on one finger. How unprecedented of you to even think such a thought! Young ladies are to never step foot on the battlefield, dirtier their long gowns or scraping their soft skins, that’s what you’ve been told. The swords are for the young men who fight for their country and the women who stay home and wait for them. A sword was to never be picked up by a lady, especially the princess.

But it was so boring! Why must you have to sit and smile like a porcelain doll too expensive to be rough housed with? You could never understand how your mother, how past queens and princesses, could handle such a repetitive job. Smile for the allies, smile for your king, smile for your people, and most importantly, produce an heir that will make the kingdom thrive. That was nothing you wanted to do!

Yet you were the only child of your nation’s queen and king, so that’s what was expected of you. You had no brother to hide behind and force to take the throne. You had no sister you could hide behind and force to smile and wave. You had to do it without any questions and without any backlash.

You’d think they’d at least let you learn to defend yourself since you were the only heir to the throne? Sure you will have royal guards protecting you for a majority of your life but it wasn’t bad to be a little precautious just in case a happy incident occurred.

Just thinking about the mistreatment made you frown, slumping over the balcony railing with a huff and using your hand to prop up your head in annoyance. Not even watching the knights-to-be scramble to display their tiny growing muscles or aimlessly swinging their blades around could make you feel any better.

And then you heard it, a deep and loud horn echoing across from the barracks all the way to the balcony you stood on. It caught your attention almost immediately, standing up straight and leaning over the railing to see what was going on. Unfortunately you hear what they must be saying from the height you were at, but the slow opening of the barrack gates was enough to clue you in on what was happening next.

“Oh, I’m just in time!” A voice chirped behind you, your skin jumping off its bones at their sudden appearance. You turn your head innocently to catch the sight of a fellow member of royalty slinking you to your side, his tiny physique making his footsteps light and silent as he stepped across the marble flooring of the balcony.

“Why, if it isn’t his Royal Highness, Prince Choi Chanhee of Fantasia!” You teased, watching as he rolled his eyes at his formal title. Only recently had the boy been pronounced the next king of his nation and he still wasn't used to the new form of address he had been given. You took this as an opportunity to poke fun at him, knowing all of the times he’s done the exact same to you. “What do I owe the pleasure of seeing his Royal Highness today?”

“You are so annoying,” Chanhee snided, earning a knowing smile from you as he leaned over the balcony railing just as you did before. “My father has come to discuss some important matters with your family, something involving the trading between the two kingdoms. I was forced to tag along being the next heir and I came to give you a bit of company, but it seems as though you’re already a little preoccupied.”

You couldn’t help but scoff at his last words, knowing he was trying to jab right back at you for watching the squires of your kingdom. “Very funny, Chanhee, but I’m not here to watch the scrawny pretty boy’s fight for a simple smile from me.”

“You find enjoyment in their pinning though, I know you do,” He noted, not taking his eyes off the barrack gates. They were completely open now, leading out into the field that was right front of the balcony the two of you were standing on. “You would never give a singular one of these men a chance because the little she-devil inside of you likes toying with their hearts.”

“You describe me so coldly, it hurts,” you laugh, watching a smile etch on the prince’s face at your words. You enjoyed your little banter like this, fighting back and forth like a pair of siblings rather than potential suitors. And let it be known that everyone in the palace wanted Chanhee to be the one who would finally court you, but he didn’t seem too interested in the idea either.

Once again a horn was blown to catch the attention of the people, it’s deep sound resonated across the field and the two of you turned your gazes towards the barracks once more. This is what Chanhee was looking forward to, the weekly evaluation that the knights-to-be of your kingdom endured four days every month. To be honest, you looked forward to it as well, as it usually was used as a way to not only assess the squires but show off the power of the kingdom’s next knights and royal guards.

After a few moments two horses shot out of the barrack gates, galloping across the open field at such intense speeds that if you blinked you would have missed them.

“This week is archery!” Chanhee exclaimed, clapping his hands together in glee as he pointed out the worn red targets that were placed about the field.

You narrowed your eyes as you finally settled your eyes upon one individual, Chanhee’s gaze following the other rider as they rode in the wind. The boy you were watching was riding upon a black stead, the steeds jet black coat nearly matching his slate colored hair. The only reason you could see the boy upon the black horse was because of his contrasting blue tunic and the evergreen colored grass underneath them.

As the two approached the first target, the boy began to rise off of the saddle straightening his back as lifting up a bow and arrow held in his hands. He focused in on the target in front of him, quickly snatching an arrow out of the quiver strapped around his back and nocking his bow. Both you and Chanhee watched in silence as the boys drawed back on their bowstrings, aiming carefully for the bullseye with unheard precision.

Thwish! Chanhee’s boy was the first to release his arrow, the object flying through the air and sinking deep into the plywood of the target. The boy let out a cheer as his chestnut steed began to pick up the page, charging straight for the other two targets that were left to clear. Only a few seconds after the first the boy you were watching released his arrow, stabbing into the target just as, if not harder, into the target than the first.

There was no cheering coming from him, no gesture of victory, not even a hint of an eager smile. He only grabbed onto the reins of his horse and commanded it to continue forth.

After the first moment of hesitation, he was no longer the one waiting for his fellow knight-to-be to make the first move. He surpassed the other boy in a matter of seconds, shooting his arrows deep into the plywood targets in a heartbeat.

“That’s incredible,” Chanhee couldn’t help but comment, reaching out for your arm as he stared down at the field in pure amusement. “Did you catch that Y/N? Each one of those shots, straight into the bullseye? And on the back of horse running at full speed? He’s inhuman, there’s no other way.”

“What can I say?” You bragged, a smile donning in your face as the boy’s horse began to slow into a casual trot. Only then did the remnants of a grin don his face, basking in his easily gained victory. “My kingdom’s soldiers are the best in the region? There is a reason everyone wants to be our allies and not our enemies? The boys from the village could crush yours in a fell swoop.”

The current squires weren’t everything to brag about now, but once they finished training? Ascending to the ranks of knights and royal guards? They were unstoppable, worthy of not only your praise, but the kingdom’s as well.

“That’s so unfair,” Chanhee pouted, stepping away from the balcony to throw a small fit. It was nothing too serious, just blowing off some steam from being the lesser royal member in the room. “You should really send some of your knights to Fantasia once you become queen. We could really use the unstoppable knights of your kingdom to better protect our own.”

You snort at his words, glancing down towards the open field where the targets laid. “Not a chance, your Royal Highness,” you tell him, your eyes glued to the slate colored hair of the squire below you. In a heartbeat he turned his head to the balcony, turning to the side like a dog as his gaze met yours. “Not a chance.”

II.

“Forgive me for speaking out of turn,” you say, your brain barely keeping up with the words that were spilling out of your mouth. “But what? You’re doing what?”

Your father couldn’t help but smile at your confusion, leading you down the busy hallway of the barracks. Any knight or general that would walk the same path as the two of you would gasp and bow before you, letting the king and his daughter pass them before even daring to continue on their way. Squires young and old would all gawk and stare from the windows and doorways of their rooms, their gazes never leaving their sovereign’s side until they were out of view.

You were in the barracks. For the first time in your life you were walking the corridors of the knight’s barracks, their training grounds, side by side with your father’s permission. Sure, you were still dressed in the long feet covering dress and shiny silver crown you had inherited so it meant you were not going to do any sort of fighting while you were here, but they didn’t matter to you. This was a big step for you to be taking in first place! Just walking within the barracks was a simple dream come true.

“Progress has been made,” your father’s royal adviser spoke first, explaining the situation to you as simply as he could. “The general in charge of training the newest squires from around the nation had reported that he believed that some of them were ready to ascend the ranks. So your father is here to judge and give the final verdict personally.”

“You saw the evaluation a week ago, didn’t you?” Your father suddenly asked you.

Your brain was doing marathons around the room as they spoke to you, trying your best to keep up with the conversation. Though the mentioning of the weekly evaluation snapped you back into reality, remembering the talented boy that rode across the field on the black stallion and easily demolished his competition. “Of course,” you responded, a little too fast for your liking. Quickly you added on, “who doesn’t remember the evaluation? Prince Chanhee was so impressed by the skills of our knights-to-be that he begged me to send some to his kingdom.”

“I know,” your father sneering, reminiscing over a memory you hadn’t witnessed. “These boys, the ones I’m going to evaluate, are around your age. I thought it was useful for you to see them personally, as there is a very strong potential that you’ll be growing as the next queen alongside them.”

“So…,” you mumble, stopping with your father in front of the door archway led to the courtyard where most of the knights-to-be were being held. “No training with the knights?”

Your father shot you a glance before laughing to himself, allowing his royal advisor to pass by him and walk out first into the courtyard. “No training with the knights.”

“May I present to you, his Majesty the King and Her Royal Highness, Princess Y/N!”

Both you and your father stepped out into the courtyard, everyone in the vicinity of the two of you bowing in respect. Your father spoke a few words to the general in charge, an exchange of words you didn’t quite catch. You were too distracted by your surroundings to focus on what was being spoken to you.

The ground around the archways was paved in cement, creating a small pathway to be walked on around the courtyard. Yet in the middle courtyard was completely dirt, grass only making an appearance in spotty areas from being traversed on so many times. The dirt stained the hem of your dress with a brown tint, having it been raining a few nights before and the ground hadn’t completely soaked up all of the water that had been doused upon it.

But you didn’t mind, why would you care about your dress when you were finally in the barracks! Your eyes were glued to the more important things, like the targets that were hung up against the walls with arrows puncturing the wood or the many dull swords and swords that were littered across the ground forgotten with the king and your arrival.

You must look like an idiot as you looked around the barracks like it was the most exquisite place of the century. To them squires, it was just another building that barely had anything to give. But to you? This was heaven on Earth, the garden of Eden in a cold and unforgiving world.

“General, please, no need to flatter,” your father’s voice spoke, finally snapping you out of your daydream-like state. When you looked up towards him, he was laughing and smiling with the man over all of the knights-to-be, turning towards the younger boys with an expectant glint in his eyes. “I am here to see the potential we’ve gathered within our ranks.”

“Of course, your Majesty!” He replied in an instant, turning towards the young men as urging a few of them to stand in front of him. It was only three of the boys close to your age that stood before you and king. “These are our finest boys to date, great fighters they’ve proven themselves to be, and hopefully even greater knights as well. Kim Sunwoo, Kim Younghoon, and our prized apprentice,”

It was him, the boy who has easily shot three arrows into a target’s bullseye on horseback. “Lee Juyeon.” You had never seen the boy up close before, you had never seen any of the knights-to-be up close before yet somehow, he made you falter. Your breath stopped upon finally laying eyes on him, unknowingly eying him as you tried to regain control of your brain. You weren’t used to this, being the person who was struggling to compose themselves, it was usually the other way around.

Most knights and knights-to-be were all talk and no bite, carefully trying to court you with sweet words and no skills to back up their courageous attitudes. Not even a single bat of an eyelash could make you want to give them the time of day. Yet Juyeon simply stood there, his head held high with well earned confidence and naturally captivating looks. He knew he was better off than most of the boys that had been spent off to become knights for the king, he must know!

Why else would he drop his gaze from his father to you, unspoken words passing between the two of you before he turned back towards your father. He knew you, he recognized you, and he was simply going to continue about his day. It killed you to know that you had been caught lacking, bewitched by his skills and appearance after being known as the princess who plays with knights for so long.

Was anyone watching you? Of course they were watching you, you were the princess and were standing right next to the king! Everyone must have seen you gawking at the boy before you and who could tell what was racing through their minds now?

“You're the boy from the weekly evaluation last week, aren’t you?” Your father questioned, addressing Juyeon first. You glanced between the two men for a moment, racking your brain around so you could follow along with the conversation. “Mounted archery, black horse?”

“Yes, your Majesty,” he responded politely, his voice making your hands twitch with a sudden spark. Immediately you put your hands behind your back, fumbling and fidgeting with your fingers nervously. How did he do that? The boy said three words and now your body was beginning to lose control!

You pinched the inside of your palm, cursing at yourself for allowing yourself to act in such a way. What was wrong with this? This wasn’t supposed to happen, you weren’t supposed to be reacting this way to a person you had just met!

Your father gasped in response to Juyeon’s answer, not even noticing your change in demeanor. “They don’t call you the finest for no reason then. Truly, your one of the most talented people I’ve seen come into our barracks in years. How long have you been with us, Juyeon? It must have been a year or so, hasn’t it?”

“You flatter me, your Majesty,” he smiled, his ears burning at the compliments given by the sovereign. “It’s only been two months.”

“Two months?” Both you and father exclaimed, sharing nearly identical expressions of shock. You cover your mouth with your hands, not meaning to speak out of turn. Your father cleared his throat not long after, trying to shake off the minor embarrassment from reacting in such a way.

Juyeon didn’t seem to mind though, his smile growing from ear to ear as he glanced over towards you once again. Your eyes followed his as he leaned down just slightly before speaking to you. “Are you okay, your highness?” He questioned, his own hands twitching from their place at his sides.

“Yes, I’m fine, thank you,” you quickly reply to him, cutting the conversation short between the two of you almost immediately. Was your face red? You hoped it wasn’t red, that would have been embarrassing.

The entire courtyard’s breath stopped as they started at the two of you. Juyeon, the finest upcoming knight, and you, the princess of the kingdom, spoke to each other. Out of turn and slightly more casual than expected, none of the knights and squires had ever gotten close enough to even get a decent response from you. Yet Juyeon had not only gotten a reaction out of you, but a flustered response as well!

“Juyeon,” your father called, snapping the boy’s attention from you to the king. Thank the heavens he stopped looking at you, you didn’t know how much longer it was going to be until you melted on the spot. You hated it, the sudden and newfound emotions the squire was putting you through. Your head was going to explode if you shared one more conversation with him, and that was barely a conversation to begin with. “How good are you with a sword?”

“Excellent, your Majesty,” the general cut in, giving the boy a stern pat on the back. Juyeon didn’t move from the position he was standing in, but it definitely looked as though he felt the brunt of the general’s hit. “He probably rivals those of the recruits from last year, already on their level or higher.”

“Perfect,” the king smiled, glancing around the courtyard for a moment. Before turning back towards the general and Juyeon. “Then shall we have a mock battle? If you don’t mind, I’d like to see your skills in action.”

“Of course,” Juyeon responded, “I can do anything for you, your Majesty.”

III.

“What the hell was that?!” Sunwoo yelled, punching Juyeon in the shoulder as hard as he possibly could. The boy winced as a result, numb from the mock battle he had participated in just a few minutes earlier. Though he didn’t retaliate like he should have, slumping into the bed that was provided for all the knights within the barracks. He was exhausted, having to exert a lot more energy than he was used to in order to impress the king as best as he could.

Had he known the king and the princess were visiting the barracks today, he wouldn’t have stayed up the night before.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” Juyeon responded, his voice muffled against the worm pillow he laid his head on.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” the boy insisted, twirling the dull longsword in his hands by the hilt. He stopped as he pointed the tip at Juyeon’s back, threateningly hovering the blade over him. “You? And the princess? Flirting not only in front of our faces, but the king’s face? Are you crazy or what!”

“I wasn’t flirting with the princess,” he answered, turning to snatch the sword out of Sunwoo’s hands. He wasn’t even supposed to be bringing weapons within the sleeping quarters, all of those were supposed to stay within the barracks army for safety reasons. “I have no reason to flirt with the princess.”

“You were kinda flirting with the princess man,” Younghoon spoke from the other side of the room, glancing at the two boys with a curious glint in his eyes. Juyeon had totally forgotten he was even with them, quietly slinking around the room to eavesdrop on Sunwoo and his conversation. Usually he could tell when the boy was trying to sneak around them, but it seemed as though he was too tired and preoccupied to notice this time. “I mean, what else could that whole situation with you and princess have been?”

“I said like five words!” Juyeon insisted, holding the right amount of fingers up. “Five! How could I have flirted with her when all I asked was if she was okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, leave out the important details like the way you were smiling at her when you spoke to her,” Sunwoo pointed out. “Or the way you specifically were fighting much harder than normal to catch her attention during the mock battle? Huh? How do you explain that?”

“The king!” The boy argued, “the king was right there! Did you want me to slack off right in front of the sovereign of our kingdom and embarrass myself? You saw the way the general and king kept showering me with compliments, I had no choice.”

Younghoon shook his head in disappointment before dropping it up with his arms and speaking. “The princess couldn’t keep her eyes off you man, you suddenly became eye candy for her. And it definitely wasn’t just because your skills were really good, the princess doesn’t know enough about swordsmanship in order to be watching you for your skills.”

“You don’t…,” Juyeon stuttered, trying to find a way to defend himself. “You don’t know that…”

“Yes, I do,” Younghoon confirmed. “Everyone knows the princess barely knows a lick of swordsmanship. She was watching you, Juyeon.”

He knew that, everyone knew that the princess didn’t know anything about fighting in general. It’s the first thing that a person learns upon reaching the barracks from their hometowns, the princess does not know how to fight. She’s tried for years to run towards the barracks to even just watch the knights train their apprentices but every time she’s been denied access to the barracks.

Truth be told, he also knew that the princess was watching him during the mock battle too. How could he not, for every glance he threw the king’s way he would nearly make direct eye contact with the king’s daughter. Juyeon would quickly look away, ducking below blades that were swung above his head or dodging a jab that was aimed directly at his chest.

Everyone wanted to impress the king and the princess now, knowing that it was up to the king to decide whether or not they’d ascend the ranks and become fully fledged knights. The only thing in their way was Juyeon, the two month old apprentice from the more rural area of the kingdom. If they could take down him in a mock battle, or even get a small nick on his body, they’d get a sure fire way into the ranks of knights and royal guards.

The mere fact that the princess was accompanying her father for the first time ever wasn’t really in their favor either. Juyeon knew how much everyone adored the princess of their kingdom, scrambling and begging for just a peek of her from the balcony above the barracks. Now she had been right in front of their faces, breathing the same air as them and watching them carefully for the first time in her life. There could be no mess ups here, for who knew when they’d next see the princess within the walls of the barracks once again.

But it seemed as though Juyeon continuously kept snatching up every little opportunity there was to catch her attention. It wasn’t even on purpose, but his charms and skills stood up more than anyone else who had fought against him.

It’s impossible to catch any woman’s attention when Juyeon stood in the way.

The worst part about it was that he didn’t even mind all the attention he was receiving. Usually he’d humble himself, placing his fellow peers on a pedestal to try and uplift them and provide a source of support and strength for them. Yet the electrifying feeling he got from watching the princess’s face shift from bewilderment to flustered was addictive in the worst way possible, Juyeon almost cracked a smile just thinking about it. His power was truly unrivaled in a way he didn’t even mean for it to be.

Juyeon covered face with his hand, trying his best to conceal the ever growing flush on his face. This feeling… it shouldn’t have been this addictive.

“Either way,” Sunwoo began, cutting straight through Juyeon's thoughts like a sword to the chest. “You can’t be flirting with the princess.”

“Why not?” He asked, responding a little faster than he anticipated. Both Younghoon and Sunwoo gave him a knowing look, as if the boy had confirmed their suspicions of courting the king’s daughter. “I’m not saying I was, god! I’m just asking… why I can’t if I ever wanted to try…”

“Number one!” Sunwoo called out.

“There are dozens of knights trying to court her at this very second,” Younghoon pointed out. “Becoming one of those people will not only give you an unfair advantage but also make you gain a lot more enemies than you think. I’m almost one hundred percent sure you don’t want to mess with the already established and trusted knights within the king’s circle.”

“Number two!”

“She’s a princess, daughter of the king of the entire nation,” Younghoon stated, pointing an accusing finger towards Juyeon. “What are you compared to that?”

Juyeon rolled his eyes at their words, leaning up against the bed once again before answering. “I’m a knight’s apprentice, son of a barely known blacksmith in the rural areas of the kingdom.”

“You’ve got nothing to offer. She’s got a whole kingdom, you’ve got nothing but a sword and your face,” Sunwoo told him, shaking his head in disappointment. “If you’re going to try and court a princess of all people, I think you’d need a decent background to even try. Most of the people who try and flirt with her are people with lots of money, connections, or are just close to the king and his circle.”

“Alright then…,” He mumbled, glancing between the two of them. “What’s number three?”

The two boys looked at each other for a moment, a smile growing on her faces as they turned back towards Juyeon. “We kill you for leaving us behind!”

IV.

“I hate this stupid game,” you mumbled, keeping your head propped up with one hand as you stared down at the chess pieces in front of you. Chanhee had come to visit again, companying his father on legal matters that neither of you could care for. With nothing to do for the day he had offered to play a game with you, a game he was learning to play back in his own kingdom.

You agreed believing that both of you wouldn’t be very good and manipulate the rules in order to play, but that wasn’t the case at all. Chanhee was beating you badly, snatching a majority of your black chess pieces off of the board and assaulting your side with his white pieces. He said he wasn’t good but it seemed as though he was natural at this game. “It’s not a stupid game,” he corrected you, placing his white pawn near your black queen. “This game is all about trickery and strategy, if you can’t do that how will you win a war?”

“There is no war to be fought,” you explain to him, grinning to yourself as you moved your black knight piece and took his white pawn. “Even if there was, I have generals, allies, and a council of people to help win said war. That’s kind of their job after all, planning battle strategies and executing them flawlessly.”

Chanhee snorted at your answer, innocently looking down at the board and carefully plotting his next move. “Thinking like that will make you a weak queen, Y/N. I hope you know that. It’ll make you easy to manipulate if you can’t think for yourself… checkmate.” He stated finally, using his white bishop to move diagonally towards your black king. You curse to yourself quietly as you realized the predicament you were in.

Without knowing, Chanhee had nearly completely surrounded your king. His white chess pieces were all clustered up around your king, his bishop, both his knights, two pawns, and his queen closer to him for backup. “This game is so stupid!” You call out in frustration, moving another the last black pawn on your side to take his knight. Without hesitation the prince moved his bishop and quickly took your king within his hands, replacing your most crucial piece with his mocking white bishop. “I don’t want to play anymore.”

“You don’t want to play because you’re bad at this game,” the prince teased, placing the chess pieces back into their original order as you pushed your chair away from the table like a child. “It’s not my fault you can’t use your brain to its full capacity, my Royal Highness, Princess Y/N.”

“You’re so lucky you’re my friend,” you threatened, mentally wiping that catlike smile off of his delicate features. “Had you been any other person I would have hurt you by now.”

“Oh no!” He gasped, sarcasm dripping off his tongue as he mockingly waved his hands around in fear. “The princess with no fighting experience is going to hurt me! I’m so scared, what will I ever do?”

“Chanhee!” You yelled, jumping out of your chair in a heartbeat. The prince laughed at you as he leaped out of his seat, sprinting out of the room and closing the door behind him as fast he could knowing he was going to be faster than you. While you’ve been wearing fancy dresses and expensive, custom made heels your entire life, that didn’t make it any easier to run in. “Chanhee, you annoying little prince! Come back here and take back those words!”

You grumble to yourself as you kick off your shoes, desperate to catch the boy and give him a piece of your mind. You may have little to know fighting skills, but you didn’t need to know how to defend yourself to choke someone out. In a rush you hurry towards the door, swinging it open with an intense speed you didn’t think was possible only to open it to the face of your father’s royal advisor. “Good day, your Royal Highness.”

“Oh,” you say, trying to compose yourself as best as possible before properly responding to him. “Good day, sir. Is there anything I can help you with today? I’m kind of in a rush right now… his highness, Prince Chanhee—”

“—Can wait,” the royal advisor finished, urging you to open the door wider so that he could step in. Awkwardly push it open a little more, stepping to the side and inviting him inside. He gratefully entered, not hesitating for even a moment to begin explaining things to you. “As you know your father, the king, had decided a month ago to allow a few of the knights in training to ascend to the ranks of true nights and royal guards.”

“Of course I know,” you respond, grabbing the heels you had discarded in your attempt to chase after the Fantasia prince and throwing them off to the side where the royal advisor couldn’t find them. “He told me and my mother about it, he was thinking about adding new royal guards to the ranks since a few of them had notified my father of their retirement from the ranks.”

“Excellent, I’m glad you’ve been caught up that far,” he explained, making you raise a skeptical brow. Caught up that far? What else were you missing? You were the princess, it was rather important that you were updated on things that involved you and your family’s safety and security.

“Unbeknownst to you, the king and queen had sworn in a total of five knights earlier in the day while the king of Fantasia and his family were discussing their own matters of importance.”

“Without me?” You questioned.

“Without you.” The advisor confirmed. “Prince Chanhee of Fantasia had you occupied, and no one wanted to bother you while you were having one of your very few days off within the palace.”

You didn’t know whether you should be grateful for the privacy with Chanhee or upset with the fact that your father and mother did not think to invite you to the swearing in of the new royal guards. “Do not be distraught, your highness,” the royal advisor told you, a small smile playing on his lips as he began to speak. “It was simply a matter of keeping your best interest within sight, you will meet the newest royal guards whenever you feel the need.”

You nod your head in understanding, there was no need to be upset now. The damage was already done and it wasn’t too hard to move from. “Can I at least know who has joined us in the palace?”

The royal advisor nodded his head in response, standing up straight in response as he began to recall the names of all the knights that had joined them. “The most notable names I can recall at the moment are all from the barracks here within the palace walls. Knights Kim Younghoon, Kim Sunwoo, and Lee Juyeon, your personal guard.”

You froze upon hearing the royal advisor’s words, slowing processing everything in your brain as the gears began to turn inside of your brain. “I’m sorry but,” You laughed softly, trying your best to hear correctly. “Can you repeat that one more time? Who is the new royal guard?”

“Of course, your highness,” He agreed, “the new royal guards are Younghoon—“

“The last part! I just need the last part.”

“Lee Juyeon, your new personal guard. He was the barracks finest apprentice, being the most talented and skilled boy we have received in a few years.” Your father’s royal advisor explained, highly praising the boy as he spoke, “your father decided to place him as your personal guard, to protect you from any dangers while your father is away. It’s simply a safety precaution— Princess Y/N!”

It was too late. By the time the royal advisor called your name, you had already thrown on whatever pair of shoes you could find and scrambled out of the door to find your supposed personal guard. Out of all the people the king could have picked to be your specific guard, he chose Juyeon? The one that had made you flustered and fidget? The one that made your face and ears burn with a pinkish hue at just the mere sight of his smile? The talented mounted archer from just a month or two ago? That Lee Juyeon?

You stepped out into the corridor with a disheveled look on your face, your eyes darting around anxiously for the boy. Why him? Why was he popping up into your life again, right after you had gotten over the way you had completely embarrassed yourself at the barracks?

“Princess Y/N?” You sucked your breath as you turned around, coming face to face to the boy you hoped to never see again. He was still just as breathtaking as before, his eyes shining even brighter than when you first saw him full of confidence as his face glowing like the sun rays filtered through the windows was just a simple accessory for him.

Nothing much had changed about him since the day you first saw him, the only difference was now he had a genuine sword held within the scabbard that was hanging from his belt and that he was wearing your kingdom’s crest on the fabric of his tunic. Juyeon smiled at you as he pushed himself off of the wall, taking a few steps in front of you before speaking once again. “It’s been awhile since we’ve last seen each other, hasn’t it?”

You finally exhaled, the emotions tied into your sigh unknown as you worked up the courage to reply back to him. “I believe it has been… Sir Juyeon, I guess I should start calling you? With the whole… rank change and all.”

He shook his head at your suggestion, unable to shake the happy grin off his face as he spoke to you. “No, you don’t have to. I don’t like being too formal, plus we’re around the same age, aren’t we? You can just call me Juyeon.”

“But… you’re a knight now, a royal guard even,” you insisted. “You’ve worked hard to earn this rank, to earn this title even, I should address you the correct way at least.”

Though Juyeon was persistent whether you liked it or not. “Seriously, I don’t really care about titles and things like that. You can just call me Juyeon, it’s fine I promise.”

You nod in understanding, feeling your hands begin to twitch in anticipation once again. How were you going to handle being Juyeon being your personal guard when you could barely keep yourself from nervously fidgeting around? The boy was stuck with you until your father appointed a new guard or took away his knight status completely and you could barely compose yourself just standing in front of him.

You hated this feeling he gave you. It was like he casted a spell on you, where you could no longer think correctly or control yourself upon being in the same room as him. But you didn’t know how you could get rid of it, you don’t know if you could even get rid of it at all.

“I see you two are already acquainted with each other,” your royal advisor noted, smiling at both you and Juyeon. “Perfect this will be a smooth ride from here on out.”

V.

It had been about three months since Juyeon had been assigned to you as your personal guard and you genuinely hadn’t believed things would ever shift between the two of you. Your original dynamic had been stiff and tricky, you were withholding yourself from trying to become close to the knight and he was very determined to get to know you better.

Every time he would flash you one of those dashing smiles of his while the two of you would walk down the hallway you’d have to force yourself to not twitch, hands down at your sides and face turned forward to avoid making eye contact. Though the boy seemed to enjoy your very clear struggle to compose yourself, carefully prying into your thoughts when no one was around and teasing you about how you could never truly look him in the eyes.

For a good four weeks or so, that’s how the two of you functioned. Juyeon would smile, you’d become flustered, and he’d tease you for your reaction.

That’s as far as he’d ever go though, never reaching over boundaries or talking out of turn when he was with you. Because of the clear line of comfort the two of you had placed in between each other, you never thought that you’d become any closer. You put him at arm's length for two months because you were afraid of shaking and fidgeting under his gaze.

But then somehow, he had been able to crack your nervous shell. Juyeon had pointed out one of the swords you had hooked up against the wall, shining in the dim light of your room and covered in rare and bright gemstones. Somehow he had finally found the on switch for you, pressing the button and watching you suddenly ramble on and on about your interest in swordsmanship like no one had even tried to ask you beforehand. It was a little embarrassing to explain your long term obsession with fighting, but Juyeon never seemed to mind.

After that the two of you clicked. No longer was your relationship just ‘Juyeon your personal royal guard and Y/N the princess of the nation’, but Juyeon and Y/N. Two people of the same age that got along like birds of a feather. The palace itself seemed to notice this change the two of you went through, their eyes lingering on the two of you as you passed to try and decode your muffled giggles and his beaming smile.

Though the person who was most astonished by the change was none other than Prince Chanhee of Fantasia.

He hadn’t visited the palace at the same time you had first gotten Juyeon as your guard so he had not first hand experienced your growing friendship with the knight so it was understandable how he was a little confused. “Y/N…” Chanhee began, fumbling with his fingers as he glanced between the two of you. You looked back as well to find Juyeon walking behind the two of you, distracting himself with the walls of the palace to give you and the Fantasia prince some privacy. “Of all the people you could have picked… it had to be the archer from that day?”

“It wasn’t my decision,” you insisted, turning away from Juyeon to walk forward once more. “It was a situational circumstance and it was bound to happen now that we were going to walk the same path as each other, literally walk the same path as each other.”

“I know, you’ve told me this a million times.” He nodded, yet still unsatisfied with the answer you had provided him. Chanhee quickly picked his pace to match yours, not wanting to be any closer to Juyeon than he already had to be. “But I can’t help but… odd about this.”

You raised a brow at his words, letting it sink and marinate within your mind. “You feel… odd about me getting close to Juyeon?”

“Not in a weird jealous way,” Chanhee clarified, “I would never care about you that much. I mean I’ve been noticing your body language when you’re around him. You’re very much relaxed and it’s very clear that you enjoy his company but you have… nervous quirks. When you talk to him your hands shake like a woman with hand tremors and not to mention the way your ears will burn like a night’s lantern at the same time!”

“They still do that?” You whispered, holding your hands close to your chest. You could have sworn that once you and Juyeon had become friends all of your nervous habits stopped. You were anxious around the boy because you barely knew him and the way he made you felt in a crowd of people made you embarrassed, but that should have all ended once the two of you had gotten close! “God, do you think he’s noticed at all? I tried to get over the whole hands shaking thing after our first encounter at the barracks and I didn’t feel my hands shaking at all after I started treating him like a friend.”

The prince had to conceal a very heavy sigh that wanted to escape his mouth, glancing around the hallway for a moment to find a place where the two of you could receive some privacy. Without warning Chanhee grabbed your hand and dragged you towards the study on the right side of the hall. “Juyeon!” You called, allowing the boy to pull you along with little to no effort. “Give us like… five minutes? Stand guard, we’ll be out soon!”

You didn’t get a chance to see or hear the boy’s reaction as you were yanked inside of the study, the door closing behind you as Chanhee finally let go. “What was all that about?” You demanded from him, standing in the middle of the sunlight study with a scowl donning your face.

“I can’t believe it took you this long to realize… it took you three months to realize!” Chanhee exclaimed, shaking his head in pure disbelief as he paced back and forth. “Honestly at this point you’re either completely clueless or stupid, though I could bet it was both at the same time.”

“That was rude,” you bite, slapping his shoulder in retaliation for his harsh words. A smile broke out on the prince’s face for a moment, as if he couldn’t believe you had the utter audacity to hit him. “I don’t understand what you’re saying, Chanhee. Explain yourself.”

“Y/N! Her Royal Highness, Princess Y/N of her nation!” The boy exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air before bringing them down onto your shoulders. “The princess has finally fallen!”

“Fallen?”

“Fallen in love!” Chanhee dodged out of the way of your fist this time, skipping around the room with a spring in his step. You couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of his mouth. You? The princess known to make knights and squires squirm for just a small glimpse of you? Fallen in love?

“No, Chanhee, I haven’t—“ you tried to explain, distracted by the boy’s overwhelming excitement. “—I’m not in love. That’s crazy, Chanhee. Get a grip on yourself, this is absurd!”

The boy turned to you with his catlike grin, refusing to take no for an answer as he began to take light steps toward you. “How is this absurd, your Royal Highness? I mean, does the pieces not make a clear picture for you? You’ve fallen in love with your personal guard, that’s what all these nervous habits you have are suddenly about! Plus the fact that you turn as red as rose when you address him sometimes, there’s no other way to describe it!”

You wanted to fight back the Fantasia prince’s words, debating him on what your true feelings were and that you simply saw Juyeon as a new close friend of yours. But when you looked back on all your memories of him, the ones with the two of you together and the ones where you were alone, your words didn’t match up with your actions. All the tiny stolen glances you’d give Juyeon when he wasn’t aware, the way your heart would accelerate every time you saw him in the morning, the way your hands twitched in anticipation when speaking to the personal guard.

“No…,” You mumble to yourself, standing there in disbelief, before trying to find a chair to sit in. “There’s no way…!”

“Yes way!” Chanhee insisted, almost as if he was reading straight into your thoughts as he walked towards you. “Y/N, it’s time you come to terms with the facts that've been placed in front of you. Your own body is telling you that you enjoy your personal guard’s company a little more than the average person! Face it, Y/N, you like him.”

“This has got to be some sort of mistake, I don’t like Juyeon. Yes, I think he’s attractive, one of the most stunning knights my kingdom has ever seen, but they doesn’t mean—“

The prince let out a frustrated groan, covering his face with his hands as he fell on to a chair not far from yours. “Do you even hear yourself at this point? Y/N, you’re telling me to get a grip, you need to get a grip! How are you going to deny all of the evidence that is right in front of you? What else do you need to confirm my suspicions?”

“I don’t know!” You snapped, a burst of confusion and frustration exploding out of your mouth in the form of your tone. “I don’t want to believe that I’ve fallen in love with Juyeon, do you know how awkward that’ll be for me? I’m with him at every waking moment of day, I’ll never get a moment's rest if I really do like him. And there’s no way I could like him, I’m the one who makes knights and squires swoon, it’s not supposed to be the other way around.”

Both you and the prince sat in silence for a moment, struggling with each other to come to terms with the arguments you presented. The worst part about it is that if you have in fact fallen for your personal guard, you wouldn’t be too bothered by the thought.

Chanhee suddenly spring up out of his seat, a smile growing across his face as his brain began to twist and turn at the new thought that had popped into his head. “That’s it!” He exclaimed, turning towards you with a mischievous look on his face. “I know a way you can figure out if your feelings for the boy are true or not, and you actually like the idea I’ve come up with. It keeps your best interest in mind.”

VI.

“Prince Chanhee of Fantasia…” Juyeon began, peering into the sleeping quarters cautiously to make sure no other knight was inside of the room. The only people inside were Sunwoo and Younghoon, both who had shot up out of their beds at the sound of the boy’s voice. “Who exactly… is he to the princess?”

“You see us for the first time today and all you have to talk about is the princess?” Sunwoo snorted, falling right back into his bed with a huff. That was a fair reaction, seeing as Juyeon spent nearly twenty four hours with the princess on a daily basis. He could at least have something new and different to talk about when he was with his friends. But he couldn’t help it this time, not when he was curious about the prince who had visited for the day.

Both the prince and his father were gone now, sleeping in their giant and extravagant beds of their own kingdom instead of spending the night here. But Juyeon couldn’t help but feel some sort of way about the Fantasia prince, his eyes had been locked into his head since he had first approached the princess when he arrived. Though whether he was watching him out of intrigue or jealousy was unknown to him.

“He’s the princess’s close friend,” Younghoon shrugged, answering for the stubborn boy who refused to give him any sort of help. “I heard they’ve been friends since they were children and many people including those outside of the palace walls thought they were going to be betrothed to each other at one point. It made sense, both of them were of royal descent and have known each other well enough for it to happen. The kings of their respective nations were close to each other.”

“Oh,” Juyeon responded, falling into his assigned bed a little harder than he had originally planned. “That’s good to know.”

“Prince Chanhee has not tried to court the princess though,” Sunwoo explained, staring at the ceiling with his arms crossed. Despite handing over the information he knew, he still seemed upset with Juyeon but the boy was simply stubborn like that. “They’ve been friends since forever and not once in my life have I heard he’s ever tried to make a move on her. As much as the kingdom wants the two to get together, they’re probably just friends.”

A quiet sigh of relief left Juyeon’s mouth as he nodded, covering his face with his hands as he responded in a slightly chirper tone. “Oh, that’s good to know.”

“Hey!” Sunwoo scolded, sitting up at the speed of light as he caught the boy’s tone of voice. “What did we say about the princess?”

He groaned in response to Sunwoo’s words, sitting up out of his bed as he recited, “dozens of knights are trying to court her, she’s a princess and I have nothing to offer, and you’ll kill me if I leave you behind.”

“Exactly,” Younghoon smiled. “I’ll drive a sword right through your stomach and Sunwoo will shoot your heart with an arrow if you even think about abandoning us for the princess.”

“I can’t shoot an arrow through his heart,” Sunwoo argued, shooting a mischievous smile towards Juyeon as he called out. “Not when the princess already shot one in the bullseye!”

“Leave me alone!” Juyeon hissed, ignoring the boys devilish giggles behind him. He couldn’t help himself from being so enamored by the princess’s mere presence, especially when he was around her for the majority of the day.

When he first came to the barracks, he couldn’t have cared less about the royal family’s daughter. He simply there to train as a knight for his kingdom and provide some sort of stability for his family back home. Juyeon was usually the one innocently teasing the other knights and squires for their one siding crush on a person they could not have, but the tides had completely turned on him. Now he was the one secretly pining after royalty.

His attention was caught when he heard soft knocking on glass, turning his head towards the window as confusion crossed his face. Sunwoo and Younghoon didn’t seem to notice the noise as they were too caught up in their teasing of the boys unfortunate feelings so the boy didn’t even bother to alert them at the sudden intrusion.

As swiftly and quietly as he could he slipped out of the bed and peered through the window’s glass, trying his best to see what had caused the sound. So one could only imagine his disbelief when he caught sight of your face in the window, standing in your tiptoes to look inside of the barracks. When your eyes caught each other's, you immediately smiled back at him and confirmed to him that you were truly standing outside of the sleeping quarters. “Y/N?” He exclaimed, a little louder than he originally had meant to happen.

Juyeon turned around and saw both Younghoon and Sunwoo staring at him, unable to comprehend the fact that he had called you by your name instead of addressing you by your full title. “You’re…,” Sunwoo began, struggling to get the words out of his mouth, “you’re on a first name basis with the princess?”

“I’ll be right back, okay?” He assured them, knocking the glass to signal that he was coming to meet you. Immediately both Younghoon and Sunwoo jumped up, scrambling towards the boy with a million questions on their mind. Juyeon just narrowly dodged their onslaught, dashing to the door and closing it on their faces. “Just give me ten minutes! I promise I’ll explain everything when I get back!”

“You’re in a lot of trouble when you get back!” The younger knight whispered, but there was just enough diction in his voice to know that he was threatening him. Juyeon only smiled to himself as he took a few steps away from the door, searching for the nearest archway to lead him into the courtyard. How had you even gotten this close to the barracks? If he remembered correctly, most guards within the palace would have stopped you before you could even get close. Did you really only need to walk inside the barracks once to sneak in for good?

“Want to explain how you got here without getting caught?” He asked you as he rounded the corner, leaning up against the wall with a knowing smirk on his face.

You stood up from where you were sitting on the ground, the white nightgown you were supposed to be wearing to sleep practically glowing in the moon’s light. You hesitated to respond to him as you played with the sleeve of your nightgown unconsciously, though sharing that same smile you had given him earlier in his sleeping quarters as you asked, “did you call me by my first name in there?”

“I did not.”

“You did!” You gasped, pointing an accusing finger towards him as you walked toward him. “I know you did, you said my name without any titles attached to it. You can’t play dumb with me, I knew as soon as you noticed I was there and said something from behind the glass.”

“You’re avoiding my question,” Juyeon pointed out, putting a hand out in front of him to keep a small distance in between the two of you. “How did you get here without being caught?”

“You’re avoiding my question!” You argued. “Did you call me by my first name when you were with your friends? It’s totally fine if you did, you realize this right? I don’t mind if you don’t use titles with me, but I just want you to admit what you said.”

The two stood stared at each other in silence, refusing to let up first and wanting the other to reveal the information they had. Juyeon would have thought you would go on for longer, being the fiercer out of the duo about what you wanted. Though after a few seconds you nervously cleared your throat, stepping back and away from Juyeon to stay out of his personal space. “You know what, forget it, that’s not why I’m here.”

“Yeah, you were just about to tell how you got into the barracks without anyone catching you,” he insisted, watching as you rolled your eyes in annoyance. Despite losing the ‘staring contest’ you weren't about to give away any of your little secrets to him. “That’s a big achievement for you, isn't it? Knowing that you haven’t stepped foot into the barracks since the day you arrived with your father makes it even—“

“I want you to train me, teach me the whole swordsmanship thing,” you blurted, cutting off Juyeon in the middle of his sentence.

Slowly his smile began to drop into a look of disbelief, unsure of whether or not he had heard you right. In a rush, you quickly rambled on, “it doesn’t have to be as intense as your training from when you were a squire! And I don’t need to know everything you know, I just want to be able to fight. You know, slicing and dicing my enemies up in order to protect myself if need be— I know I have you and the entire royal guard on my side but this is just something I’ve always wanted so… please?”

“Why… why me though?”

You froze upon being asked his question, struggling to form coherent sentences to continue the conversation. “Because…,” you stuttered, your ears turning a rosy red hue as you tried to make an excuse. Juyeon attempted to not notice, keeping his eyes focused solely on you and waiting patiently waiting for your answer, but he couldn’t help himself. Whatever you were going to say to him next wasn’t going to be good enough erase the undertones of your silence.

There was a very likely possibility that you harbored the same feelings for him as he did for you, if he was reading the nature of the room right. Of course, there was the offset chance that you were simply embarrassed to give him your real reason, so he couldn’t just put all his money on one option only to be disappointed in the end.

“You’re my friend,” you finally explained. “Not only are you my friend, but you’re my personal guard and the ‘supposed’ finest knight within the kingdom’s men at the moment. So wouldn’t it make sense to learn from someone who is an acquaintance and is skilled in the area I’m trying to learn in? I don’t know, it sounds like logic to me.”

“Right,” he nodded, thought speaking more for himself than for you. Juyeon couldn’t get his hopes up, not when the person he had fallen for was a member of royalty. High hopes would only get him utterly disappointed when everything came back around. “That’s logical thinking, you’re right.”

VII.

Two nights out of every week you snuck out of your room and met up with Juyeon at the barracks. He’d cautiously sneak you inside of one of the very many training rooms that the barracks had to offer with the help of his friends and there he would teach you all he knew about sword fighting. Well… kinda.

It was a very difficult process to endure as you were something less than a beginner and Juyeon was something more than a master. Your varying levels of proficiency made it hard to work together since the personal guard wanted to skip the basics immediately and you had never even touched the basics beforehand. All your experience of sword fighting had only ever come from watching others from afar, so you truly didn’t know anything.

The perfect stance, how to hide your weak points, you didn’t even realize how heavy a genuine sword was! The mere thought that you were supposed to be the one controlling the swords slicing and slashing and not the other way around was astounding to you.

It was embarrassing to know that Juyeon had watched you nearly topple over yourself when you grabbed a sword for the first time, your arms not used to the amount of weight that you were carrying. You could barely pick it up, let alone sling it over your shoulder as the boy did ever so flawlessly. He’d giggle and tease you for floundering all over the ground with the sword in hand, slightly mocking you as he twirled his blade with ease. You’d sit there mumbling under your breath small threats and empty promises as your face would burn in shame.

If anyone had caught you two in the act of training, they would think you were a lost cause at first.

“A quick jab and turn isn’t going to do anything, Y/N,” Juyeon innocently told you, his sun rivaling grin growing across his face as he pointed the tip of his blade towards you. You were on the complete other side of the room, keeping your distance away from the personal guard instead of attacking him head on. “This isn’t fencing, these weapons are made to cut, not poke.”

“I know,” you angrily reply, growing tired with his ongoing cat and mouse game you two played. “You’re just really obnoxious.” You tried to attack him, rushing in with no genuine plan in your head. The dull swords clashed together with an angry metal screech when you swiped your blade at him, your attack quickly being blocked by Juyeon as he lifted up his own sword to block against your attack. Frustrated, you began to press the majority of your weight onto the sword, forcing it to move towards the boy’s torso at a slow pace as he fought against it.

Wordlessly he stepped forward, pushing back against your attack and forcing you to move back with a heavy foot. You yelped when you suddenly lost your footing, the weight you had pressed into the blade betraying you as you hit the ground with an unfortunately loud thud. You stayed down on the ground for a little longer than you wanted, catching your breath and making sure you didn’t potentially crack your head open on the stone floors. The two of you couldn’t train in the courtyard in fear that someone would catch you in the barracks, but now you were willing to risk the chance.

“I’m not obnoxious,” the boy defended as you secretly rolled your eyes at his words. “You’re just bad at fighting and… wildy easy to predict.”

“That’s because someone didn’t teach me the basics like they were supposed to!” You complained, lifting yourself off the ground and pointing an accusing finger at him. Juyeon sheepishly smiled as you continued to call out, “you just threw a sword at me the first day and said hit me! I nearly fell when I grabbed that thing and you wanted me to fight first thing? I thought I already established to you that I knew nothing at all?”

“I know the basics are so boring after you’ve completed it all. If you want someone else to teach you just say so, I’m sure that Sunwoo and Younghoon would kill to be in your presence and teach you how to fight,” Juyeon argued, leaning up against the pommel of his sword and curiously looking down at you. When you didn’t respond to his suggestion, he shrugged his shoulders and joined you in the ground for a moment. “That’s what I thought.”

The entire ‘Juyeon teaches you sword fighting’ idea was all Chanhee’s plan, conjuring up the brilliant idea in a matter of seconds. The Fantasia prince had suggested it as a way for you not only to learn swordsmanship but figure out if you truly held feelings for the personal guard as you would be engaged in a lot more close combat and would be alone with each other for a few more hours within the day. Honestly you think that was the first time you had ever called the boy a genius, mainly for the reason that you would finally dabble in your long term interests.

However instead of falling completely and uncontrollably in love with Juyeon, you just wanted to slice his head off. He was nothing like he usually was when it came to fighting, his condescending smirks and over the top mocking getting the best of him whenever he had fought against you. Though his continuous and annoying teasing only fueled your drive to master sword fighting even stronger than before, so you guessed that was one thing that was working out for you.

Though, if you had to be honest, you did have your moments where you faltered not because of your own lack of skill but because of Juyeon in general. Let it be known that whether you had feelings for the personal guard or not, he was conventionally attractive. Running his fingers through his hair, his beaming smile of knowingness, even the arrogant looks of victory was enough to distract you from your adrenaline fueled drive to stab Juyeon in the chest. Did he even know he had that effect on you?

Maybe it’s best he didn’t know, you didn’t need another weakness to add to your ever growing skill set of cans and can’ts.

“Why didn’t you actually teach me the basics though?” You asked him, catching his attention almost immediately. “I mean… I learned the basics by myself with no help by mock battling you for several nights straight. I’m not the best fighter but I’d at least like to stand a chance against you instead of humiliating myself over and over again.”

Juyeon thought to himself for a moment, staring at the ceiling and anxiously running his hands through his hair. “Is ‘because it’s fun to mess with you’ a valid answer to your question?”

You gave the boy a strained smile and you hissed, “No. Absolutely not.”

“Then i don’t know,” he admitted, lifting himself off of the ground and fumbling around with his hands. Juyeon wasn’t looking directly at you as he spoke, staring off into the void with an unknown emotion swirling around in his eyes. “I’m not that good of a teacher for close friends if I’m gonna be honest. I get competitive, more focused on the fulfillment of my joy and worth than actually… teaching someone how to do a task or skill.”

You nodded in understanding, all of the frustration and annoyance from earlier gone within a flash of his words. What he said was fair, some people just don’t have the ability to teach others and he just happened to be one of them. “So then why’d you agree that night?” You asked him, now trying to wrap your head around that fact. “I mean if you knew you’d have a hard time teaching me how to sword fight, you didn’t have to say yes… you do know that right?”

“I know,” he responded, before turning to you with his signature smile. Your hands began to shake once again at the sight of it, the same exact smile he had the audacity to give you in front of all the knights and squires when he was among their ranks. The one that would go from ear to ear in pure amusement and endearment from your words and reactions. That one, the one that started this mess in the first place. “I know I could have declined if I wanted to but… something in me wanted to help you anyways.”

“And that something was…?” You questioned, your words trailing off just a little as you urged him to explain. You don’t know exactly what you’re expecting for him to say. That he agreed out of obligation? The kindness of his heart? That he simply wanted to spend time with you? Did you even know what you wanted his answer to be? Or how disappointed you’d be if it wasn’t anything that would give you the false hope you were unconsciously reaching for?

He sighed to himself for a moment before shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know, really. Like… I know but at the same time I don’t? It’s complicated and I don’t really want to bug you with it.” Juyeon explained, glancing down to your nervously trembling hands with a teasing smile growing on his face. “What’s with the shaking hands? When you were holding that sword you were as tough as a rock, feeling a little vulnerable without it?”

“Shut up,” you snapped at him, immediately putting your hands behind your back, squeezing them together as you tried to keep a straight face. Of course he was going to notice that nervous tick of yours one day, it was inevitable especially after the Fantasia prince had caught onto it. Chanhee wasn’t even at the palace every day to even pick up on it, he just knew you well. So why would you ever believe that Juyeon, your personal guard for heaven's sake, wouldn’t have noticed it? “It’s just cold,” you lied, “we aren’t doing anything right now and the night’s cold just gets to me something.”

“Well why didn’t you say so?” Juyeon questioned, earning himself a skeptical look from you. In a heartbeat he reached behind you and scooped up your hand and his, holding it tightly in his grasp with a grin.

You snatched your hand in retaliation, your ears burning the unfortunate rosy red as you shout, “woah! Hold on, what are you doing?”

“Relax, Y/N,” the boy laughed, gently taking your hand back and holding it up for the both of you to see. “I’m holding your hand because you said you were cold, and exchanging body heat might warm you.” His hands were so much bigger than yours, rough and firm from the work he put in as he trained with the other knights of your kingdom. It was a very stark difference from your dainty and softer hands, the only work you had ever done was smile and wave to the people and royals of other nations. Yet somehow, despite these differences, his hands fit perfectly into the gaps of yours.

You wondered how many knights and squires would have ridiculed Juyeon if they could see you two now. The princess of their nation, who was notorious for playing knights like lyres and rejecting their advances, was willingly holding hands with the finest and most favored knight within the palace walls. “Well don’t tell anyone I let you do this,” you warned, relaxing after a moment of silence. “Not even your other knights friends can know I let you do this! I have a reputation to keep up.”

“Yeah, yeah,” the boy nodded, no longer paying attention to you specifically and simply observing the way his hands fit in yours. “I promise I won’t. Your secret is safe with me. I like the way your hand fits in mind anyways.”

VIII.

When your parents asked you if you had found a potential suitor to be your future king, you told them no almost immediately. Your quickness made your father raise a skeptical brow at your answer and your mother nearly fainted in shock, gasping hysterically.

Their daughter, the princess, the future queen of their nation, had not yet found a boy to be her king? Unacceptable, impossible! They couldn’t allow this behavior of yours to continue, knowing how you had played with the hearts of countless knights within the palace walls. So they had decided to take matters into their own hands, they needed to place down a platter of men around your age that you could pick and choose whatever your little heart desires.

A ball, they had told you, they were planning a ball and were inviting all their noble and royal allies to attend. They were going to bring their sons ,have them attempt to court you, and then you would pick one of the boys to be your king. Genuinely, when they first informed you of their plans you thought they were joking. They wouldn’t actually do all of that because you said you didn’t have anyone in mind yet right?

And they did.

Here you were, standing on the ballroom floor with Chanhee by your side with the most bewildered expression your face could muster. You were adorned in a large wine red ballgown, matching your family who wore nearly identical, with jewels scattered across your arms and ears for an extra shimmer to your already extravagant look. Not to forget the most important piece of the whole attire, the signature silver rhinestone crown that identified you as the princess of the nation.

The tiara and grown lifestyle, the lifestyle you haven't been fond of even as a child. You were unwillingly living it.

“Careful,” Chanhee whispered, placing a comforting hand on your bare shoulder. “I don’t need you exploding in front of everyone right now, who knows what kind of scene that’ll create.”

“I might as well!” You snap, catching the unwanted attention of the nobles around you. Both of you turned to them and smiled, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible about your true feelings of the event. When they bowed in greeting before finally turning away from you and Fantasia prince, you were back to being the ticking time bomb you had entered the ballroom being. “You think I wanted to have this event planned? You think I wanted to have this event at all?”

“Of course you didn’t, I know you. You like to horseplay and run around like a little village girl.” Chanhee explained, rolling his eyes at your prevalent attitude. “But you can’t really do that right now can you? One small misstep and you’ll embarrass your parents right before their eyes, you need to keep it together.”

“How?” You asked him, maneuvering through the crowd of nobles so that you and Chanhee could have a little more privacy. Who knew what random noble or king’s son would walk up to you in the middle of your conversation and beg you to have a dance with him? “I don’t feel comfortable in what I’m wearing, I don’t want to be here in the first lance, I’m getting on my last nerves, and who knows when some random boy I don’t know tries woo me into liking him? I might actually lose it here!”

Chanhee struggled to keep up with your demands, trying to think of another quick solution to your problems like he always did. He must have something in that brain of his doesn’t? Or was it all just full of strategies to absolutely destroy you at chess? “I got it! Just talk to me.”

“What?” Chanhee’s suggestion stopped you dead in your tracks, giving him the most bizzare expression you could make at that moment. “Your very Royal Highness I’m sorry to inform you, but people won’t care if I’m talking to you, you understand that right? They know you wouldn’t even attempt to try and take my hand in marriage so they’ll just barge in anyways.”

“I don’t mean like that,” he hissed, softly hitting your shoulder in retaliation. “Talk to me about the personal guard and I’ll lead you away from the party. We just need to super busy in order to pull off the act that we’re walking around and definitely not trying to leave the ball.”

You nodded in understanding, though feeling your face begin heat up and turn into that all telling rosy red color. “Why— why him specifically? Can’t I talk about something else?”

“Where is he now?” The Fantasia prince questioned, holding out his arm for you to take so he could drag you out of the ballroom. “He's your personal guard isn’t it, your Royal Highness? Why isn’t he flanking your every step and protecting you like a dog to its owner?”

The boy snickered at his words until you elbowed his side, stopping both of you in your tracks to watch him crumble to his knees for a moment. Did he really think he could get away with insulting Juyeon like that? To your face no less? “He’s on duty with the rest of the royal guards,” you explained, nonchalantly glancing at your nails as you waited for Chanhee to recover. The boy was all sticks and bones, easy to hinder thanks to his small body. “They’re patrolling around the palace and the ballroom to make sure no incidents occur.”

“Incidents?” Chanhee questioned.

“Like putting the king and queen pieces into checkmate type incidents,” you told you, referencing the game of chess they had played months ago. “Either way, Juyeon couldn’t come with me and enjoy this god forsaken ball with me, but maybe that’s for the best.”

“Is that in terms of you two had a sudden falling,” The Fantasia prince tried to clarify, “or as in you think you’ve finally gotten your feelings figured out?” You grimaced at the thought, unsure of how to exactly answer Chanhee’s question. Did you have your feelings figured out?

Juyeon (with the exception his friends) was the only knight whose heart you hadn’t ever attempted to toy with. You let him get away with countless things: saying your name without a title, holding your hand when it trembled, willingly allowing him to make you flustered and not suffer any sort of retribution for it. On top of all of that, you even enjoyed his company! Juyeon didn’t make you feel like a prize that needed to be one, just made you feel like… you. And you liked it.

At first, you loathed the thought of being in the knight’s vicinity because he made do and feel things you weren’t used to. You thought that maybe, just maybe, he was going to use you in the way that you lead the squires and knights of the palace along. But he didn’t, the only thing he had done to you was send you flying deep into this well of the unknown without even realizing it.

“Oh I hate you,” You mumble under your breath, shooting Chanhee a knowing look. “I hate you so much.”

He blinked a few times at your hurtful words before it finally clicked in his brain, covering his mouth with his hands as he squealed. “You’ve figured it out? You realized that you like him? Y/N I’m so—“

“Princess Y/N!” The two of you turn your heads in alarm at your name being called, the worst case scenario of someone actually having the audacity to stop you coming true. You tense up upon seeing your mother wave her hand towards you, bringing attention to both of the royals from all the bystanders around you. With her was an older man, perhaps around your fathers age, staring up straight and tall with a curious glint in his eyes. His attire for the ball was littered in gold and silver medallions, purposely flaunting all of the achievements you wouldn’t bother to learn.

Though beside the older man was a boy, around your age this time, nervously glancing between the queen and the man who seemed to be his father. He tugged on the man’s sleeve desperately, trying to get him to take action but was ultimately getting ignored due to the adults taking the lead in the conversation. The queen pointed to both the boy and man with an expectant look on her face as she spoke, “please, Y/N, come join us! I’d like you to meet someone.”

“Potential suitor,” you whispered to Chanhee.

“On the count of three, run in the total opposite direction and get out of the ballroom,” He replied back.

One. “This is General Lee from a neighboring kingdom near Fantasia,” your mother explained, quickly introducing the two of you and unaware of the chaos you and the Fantasia prince were about to create.

Two. “This is his son, Prince Hyunjae. The general is the brother of the kingdom’s current king and his son will be taking the throne as the king and queen of that nation cannot produce an heir on their own.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Hyunjae began, awkwardly bowing in front of you now that all eyes were on him. “Truly it is, I’ve heard so much about you Princess—“

“Three!” You and Chanhee split from each other as quickly as possible, darting through the crowd of people in a desperate get away. You could hear the general and the queen call for you, struggling to keep up with your speed fueled by adrenaline but you paid no mind to it. They needed your presence so that you could sit and have an unfulfilling conversation with Prince Hyunjae and you weren’t going to give it to them. No offense to the prince or anything, you just don’t think you could handle that situation knowing your heart had settled on someone entirely different,

It only took you a matter of two minutes to reach the ballroom doors, muttering soft yet empty apologies to everyone you ran into and slipped through the crack in the door.

IX.

“Stupid princess,” Juyeon muttered, charging down the palace halls as fast as his legs would take him. “Stupid Y/N!” One could only imagine his panicked expression when he was suddenly approached by Sunwoo with a nervous glint in his eyes. He was so used to seeing the younger knight’s bright smile that it took Juyeon completely off guard when the boy grabbed him by the shoulders and steadied his footing.

“The princess,” Sunwoo told him, glancing between him and the corridor leading to the ballroom. “Princess Y/N, she ran from the ballroom and no one knows where she went.”

Juyeon thought he was joking at first, brushing off his words with a small laugh and teasing smile. Yet when Sunwoo’s expression didn’t change and the weight of the situation had finally processed in his mind, he shot off like an arrow towards all the spots the princess could have been hiding.

He knew you didn’t enjoy the big fancy balls and extravagant dresses of the royal life, but he thought you were going to be able to stick it out. Every time you had mentioned the king and queen’s wild idea to throw a gathering to find you a suitor, a king of your own, you were relaxed. You weren’t bothered by the thought of all and even joked about it with him every so often, so Juyeon had trusted you to be fine.

He didn’t like the idea of the ball for completely different reasons from you. He liked you, and the thought of your parents sending you off to some noble child or prince he’s never heard of made his blood boil. Because why have a ball to father suitors when he was right there? But the constant reminder from Sunwoo and Younghoon that he had nothing to offer to you and he wasn’t even in the status to even try to become betrothed to you, made him unwillingly back down from voicing his opinion to you and opposing it.

Now he was regretting, because you were missing somewhere in the palace and he didn’t know why.

He wasn’t in the ballroom when it all had happened, instructed to stand guard and patrol around the perimeter of the gathering to protect all the guests and the royal family. Juyeon didn’t understand why he was tasked to do such a thing in the first place, when he ascended the ranks into becoming a knight he was specifically told he was your personal guard. He was supposed to watch over you and protect you, so why did they have him stationed away from you?

It wasn’t until he realized that a majority of the palace, specifically the knights among his rank, had recognized his growing fondness for the princess. If they couldn’t have the princess to themselves, then neither could he.

“Y/N!” Juyeon called, completely throwing out the titles and addressing you by your first name. It’s not like anyone was around shooting him dirty looks for having the sheer audacity to call the princess by your name only. Even if they did, he wouldn’t mind. There were more important things to worry about than what he can and can’t call you. “Y/N, where’d you go? Come on, we can’t play this game of cat and mouse forever.”

He stopped at a door at the end of the corridor he was running down, grabbing a hold of the handle and shoving it open with unnecessary ferocity. Could you blame him for being a little too aggressive? With every growing second you weren’t in his sights the more anxious he was becoming. What if you were hurt? What if you were crying? What if you were—

“Juyeon, right?” Prince Chanhee asked, sitting in a chair with his feet kicked up on top of the desk. Juyeon has opened the door to one of the very many studies within the palace and out of sheer coincidence he opened the doors to the one the princess’s friend was using. Well at least… he thought it was a coincidence. I hoped it was a coincidence.

“Prince Chanhee of Fantasia,” he began, looking the boy up and down for a moment. It didn’t seem like you were with him, not a trace of your existence left in the study. It was possible that you didn’t even come in this room at all. “Where is she?”

“God, you skipped right to the point a little fast for me,” Chanhee grimaced, taking his feet off of the desk and sitting up straight. “Do you have to know where she is like right now? Because I had this whole speech I was going to give you set up and I really wanted to—”

“Prince Choi Chanhee,” Juyeon demanded, putting emphasis on each word that came out of his mouth. He didn’t have time to play around with others right now, as much as he would have loved to encourage him any other day. You were somewhere in the palace, alone, and he had to know where you were and what happened. He needed to know if you were hurt so that he could find the culprit and drive his sword straight into the chest of the wretch.

The boy raised his hands up in defeat, shooting Juyeon an annoyed glare before clearing his throat. “Y/N is at the balcony above the barracks, where the field for the mounted archery evaluations was held months ago.” The memory of the weekly evaluation was immediately triggered in his head, seeing him back months prior to his falling for the princess. The day he had proved to all of the knights and squires around him that he was the best of the best, the day he had first laid eyes on you.

“I know where that is,” he breathed, turning in his heel and getting ready to rush out the door once again. Though Chanhee scrambled out of the chair to catch up to Juyeon, stopping him from moving any further towards the balcony to reach you. “What?”

“Before you go,” the prince began, letting go of Juyeon with the hope that he wouldn’t run off at the sight of freedom. “Please don’t do anything stupid, Y/N is my friend. And as much as I tease her and bully her, I won’t let anyone hurt her. Even if that’s her wildly skillful and kinda scary personal guard.”

Juyeon couldn’t help but laugh at Chanhee’s words, reminiscing on the fact that only a few months ago he couldn’t tell whether he was intrigued by the prince’s closeness with you or jealous of it. “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t dare.”

X.

You leaned up against the railing of the balcony taking night time air with a deep breath. It was hard trying to avoid all the royal guards and knights within the castle, knowing that after the scene you caused they’d be searching for you. It felt like a scene from a fairy tale really, clutching the fabric of your wine red dress so you wouldn’t trip and hastily running up the stairs. Behind you you could hear the calls of all the knights and royal guards of the places looking for you, their boots heavy against the marble floors and their armor clanging against each other.

They were like walking bells, unaware of the fact that their prized armor was alerting you of their position. If the guards were coming up the corridor, you turn around and run the opposite way. If they were going down the corridor, you’d spin on your heels and make a complete u-turn. Sometimes you’d sneak into a room on whatever hallway you were on and wait for them to pass, sometimes you’d just keep running and hope your legs didn’t give out on you knowing you were wearing heels.

It was a little funny in your eyes, but that’s because you were you. You’re almost one hundred percent sure no one else thought this game of cat and mouse you were playing was fun.

“Wait, I should have gone and found Juyeon first,” you realize, shooting up off of the ground. You were so busy with attempting to successfully make your get away that you had forgotten that Juyeon was also one of the knights in duty. He was probably worried about you, searching for you around the palace like all of the other knights within the palace. With no explanation of exactly what went down in the ballroom, he’d have no clue on what was actually going on.

“I should go find him, leaving him with no context will probably drive him insane,” you nod to yourself, marching towards the balcony doors to run back into the palace. Though you stopped once you reached the door, your hands hovering over the door handles hesitantly. You should tell him what happened, it was the right thing to do after all. But were you really ready to face him again?

In the middle of that ballroom, just seconds before you had been involuntarily introduced to Prince Hyunjae, you had a revelation. You liked him. You liked your charming person guard that had caught you weak kneed from the first time you laid eyes on him. No one had ever made you feel the way you felt about Juyeon and he had done it nearly completely by accident. He was trying to court you and you simply fell for him anyways.

His skills, his face, his smiles, his personality, just him a person entirely. You adored it all, you liked him.

Well liked was an understatement now, you had truly fallen deeply in love with him and you just had to realize your genuine feelings in the middle of a party meant to find you a king. Horrible timing on your part but you just weren't sure until then.

So maybe you should wait, wait until you can gather your thoughts and feelings together without fidgeting and shaking in front of him. The nervous habit probably would have increased tenfold now that you realized why exactly you trembled when he smiled at you, and you weren’t ready to watch that whole fiasco go down. How embarrassing would that be? To get completely weak kneed in front of Juyeon without a coherent thought in the brain? Surely you’d like an idiot, wouldn’t you?

“I’ll wait,” you convinced, stepping away from the door with cautious steps. “I’m not even going to be able to look him in the eye if I see him again, I should just wait until tomorrow… but I’ll probably get scolded by my parents for running away during the ball when they had done all that planning just for me. But it’s not like I asked them to throw that ball in the first place, just because I didn’t suggest any suitors I liked!”

You yelped in alarm when the door to the balcony swung with great speed, making you jump out of skin at the sudden intrusion. “Heavens, do you know how to knock?” You asked in retaliation, your heartbeat running marathons as you tried to calm yourself down from the shock. Though when you turned to look back toward the door again, you were greeted by the rather familiar sight of your personal guard, “Juyeon?”

The boy’s eyes widened at the sight of you, as if he couldn’t believe that you were standing in front of him right now. “Y/N,” he said in between gasps, trying hard to catch his breath as he reached his hands out for you. “Y/N, you're okay.”

“Of course I’m okay,” you tell him, unsure of the thoughts that were running through his mind. “Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

Juyeon didn’t respond to your questions, letting go of the door handle before running towards you and scooping you up in his arms. Instinctively you wrapped your arms around him for support, not wanting to fall out of his grasp despite knowing he wouldn’t dare drop you even if he commanded to. “I thought something bad happened,” he confessed, “when Sunwoo came to me and told me you had left the ballroom, I thought someone had hurt you.”

“No, nothing like that happened,” you assured him, urging him to let you go. Just looking at his relieved face made your heart begin to race again, though this time marathons weren't the only thing that it was running. “My mother was trying to set me up with his prince from another kingdom and instead of doing as she said me and Chanhee ran for it out the room.”

“Why would you do that?” Juyeon questioned, stepping away from you in disbelief. “The queen, she’ll be furious when she sees you again. The king— your father, what will father say about you running away?”

“Juyeon I don’t care about what they think, haven’t you noticed by now?” you argued, your hands beginning to tremble at the rising tension between the two of you, “they can’t just force me to pick a boy from that gathering when I didn’t even bother to learn their names. When none of them are you.”

Juyeon thought to himself for a moment, letting your words sink and replay inside his brain. “When none of them were… me?”

“I wish I had realized before they even had a chance to plan the ball but I just have the worst timing possible,” You admitted, thinking back to all the very clear signs of your growing feelings for Juyeon that you had avoided. “I think I fell in love with you, Juyeon. Not think, actually, I know I have.”

“You’re serious?” Juyeon questioned, unsure if he had even heard you right. When you nodded your head to give him confirmation, he pulled you closer to him with warning, his eyes growing wide like the full moon that was hanging above the two of you. “You’re not joking at all, no tricks, no teasing, you’re being one hundred percent serious with me right now?”

“Of course!” You exclaim, grabbing him by the shoulders with a beaming smile etching across your face. “I’ve never been so sure about something in my entire life. Why do you think I asked you to train me in the first place a few months back, because I was just trying to use your skill set to my advantage? I know I have the reputation of being desperate for sword fighting, but Juyeon I was in love with you! I was just using the training as a way to figure my feelings or not.”

“I didn’t want to get my hopes up,” he confessed to you. “I wanted you to like me back, but Sunwoo and Younghoon didn’t want me to get my hopes over a fruitless crush. They told me that pursuing you wouldn’t work, because I didn’t have a decent enough background for me to even compare to anyone else. I mean, you’re a princess! I’m just barely a knight, I’m a blacksmith’s son, Y/N, not some high ranking noble from across the land. I have no connections, no power, no money, nothing to give you in return for your affection.”

“Juyeon,” you respond, confusion crossing your face at his words. Did he really think you wouldn’t like him just because his status was up to the standards of the king and queen? He thought you cared about things like that?

“I have nothing to offer you,” Juyeon whispered, holding your hands in his as gently as possible. It was if he thought he’d let go of you now he’d wake up from this dream like scenario you two were in, where you were no longer in his arms and in a place he could not reach. “There’s nothing I could even dream of giving to you.”

You can’t help but smile at his words, removing your hands from his and cupping his face instead. He didn’t even flinch at your touch, only turning a crimson red at your next few words. “Why do you think that matters? None of that matters to me, it never has. You could be a poor boy from a family of farmers and I’d still fall in love with you.”

“But your parents—“ he tried to argue with you.

“They mean nothing to me,” you assure him, pulling his face towards yours as you whisper, “they may be able to control this kingdom to their will, but they can’t control who exactly I fall in love with. They couldn’t even control my urge to learn sword fighting and that’s an interest I’ve had since I was a child.”

“I hate you so much,” Juyeon laughed, the words he spoke not carrying the same weight thanks to his jittery and hopeful tone. He was happy, happy to know that you felt the same way about him and that you didn’t care for anything of the things that should have been hindering your feelings for him.

“Clearly you do,” you tease in response, “you haven’t even attempted to kiss me yet.”

You didn’t need to tell Juyeon twice. He gave you one small kiss on the forehead, pulling away as fast as he registered what he had done in that moment. It felt illegal to be kissing a princess after being told countless times that trying to pursue you was a horrible idea. Though you didn’t give him any time to try and open his mouth as you threw your arms around his neck and kissed him back, grabbing onto his shirt collar and pulling him close.

His eyes fluttered closed immediately, smiling against your lips as he brushed his thumb against your cheek. “Does this mean I get to become king if I end up marrying you,” Juyeon questioned, his tone lightheartedly as he stopped for a moment.

You didn’t even open your eyes as you pulled him back towards you again, a sly grin prevalent on your face as you whispered to him. “Only if you finish the sword fighting lessons we started,” you teased, “maybe then I’ll consider making you my king.”

[randomshyperson]

Wanda Maximoff/Reader - Land of Thieves - #ChapterEight

GIF is not mine.

Summary: When you were a child, you swore that no matter how high the reward in your head, she could always count on you. Life as an outlaw in the west is not easy, but you believe that train robberies are still easier than asking a pretty girl to dance. Land of Thieves, also know as your love story with Wanda Maximoff in the Wild West.

AO3> Land of Thieves

Warnings:  18+, explicit language, explicit violence, slow burn, childhood friends to lovers, cursing, blood. Chapters Warnings: Slightly smut, panic attacks.

Words: +40K (i can’t do math sorry)

tags: @mionemymind​ 

Something changed in your dynamic with Wanda. There was a tension, a longing. It made you hot and uncomfortable, hyper aware of her presence everywhere.

Even now, doing an activity as mundane as washing the dishes, while you caught a glimpse of Wanda sitting on a bench, cleaning her weapons with a rag, you tried to keep your attention on the chores, but your gaze returned to the woman a few feet in front of you, who didn't even look at you.

You wanted her to touch you again. And you couldn't stop thinking about it. But Wanda didn't seem willing to ease your suffering. She was torturing you, you realized. Maybe it was revenge, or maybe she just wasn't ready yet. Either way, she had you in her hand like a lost puppy, following her around the camp wherever she went.

Deciding that you needed to reclaim a minimal amount of control over yourself, you finished your chores, and headed toward Steve's tent, readily accepting whatever out-of-camp duties he had for you. Steve was surprised at your excitement to leave, but said nothing. He just explained that he needed a letter to be delivered to Stephen, who was no longer in camp. You offered to take the letter to the doctor all the way to town, and decided that you would buy yourself a new horse while you were in Saint Denis.

On the way back to your tent, you waved hello to Bruce, who was sitting by the campfire, cleaning his boots. He looked peaceful, and you expected him to talk to Nat about the two of them. He smiled and turned his attention back to the activity.

You took a jacket, and put on your holster, and your hat. You also remembered to take the little money you had saved from the last service. 

Walking out of your tent toward the horses, you stroked the mane of your temporary mount. He was obedient enough, but you would sell him to add in the money needed for a new horse. It was strange to replace Knight, but it was unavoidable. 

- Where are you going? - Wanda's voice sounded behind you, curious. You were slightly startled, and tried not to show your nervousness at seeing her. 

- Saint Denis. I'm delivering a letter to Stephen, and I need a new horse.

- Oh, great. I'm going to Rhodes. We can ride together halfway. 

Feeling your heart racing, you did your best not to sound too excited.

- Sure thing, Wanda. - You gave her a gentle smile, but she just looked at you with a glint in her eye that made your legs tremble.

- Good. - She said, walking toward her horse. You nodded slightly, and mounted yours.

You bit the inside of your cheek as you rode side by side in silence. It's been many minutes since you left the camp, and you are starting to get a little too anxious, so I decided to make conversation.

- So... what are you going to do in Rhodes?

Wanda looks calm as she rides alongside you, and she keeps looking forward. 

 - Steve told me to help Carol with the two families in town. - She says - As I understand it, she needs someone to infiltrate the Braithwaite mansion while she focuses on the other family, the Grays.

You nod with a grumble showing that you heard what she said. 

- Be careful. - You ask, and Wanda smiles mischievously.

- I will. 

You are silent again, and Wanda starts humming softly. You ride for a few more minutes when she speaks again.

- When I finish my work here, I'll meet you in Saint Denis. - She says, and you ignore the uncompensated beating of her heart.

- All right. - You say simply.

And then you arrive at the entrance of Rhodes. Wanda stops her horse right next to yours, and leans in to give you a lingering kiss on the mouth. You sigh at the contact, but she pulls away when you begin to properly respond. She smiles, and waves, riding away. 

You shake your head, trying not to look like a complete mess, and turn your horse toward the road, riding all the way to Saint Denis.

Stephen seems happy. And you quickly find out why when his wife comes home while you are on the porch talking. Christine must be about five months pregnant, and you blink your eyes wide when you notice. She smiles, kisses you on the cheek and tells you how much you have grown, and then goes into the living room to put away the groceries.

- God, Doctor, three kids! - You exclaim with excitement, turning to Stephen, who laughs, leaning on the balcony ledge. 

- I know, I know. - He says. - It was a surprise really. A good one, but still a surprise.

- And how are the girls? - you ask, leaning your elbow on the edge, looking at Stephen. 

- Exceptionally mischievous. - He answers with a smile. - Much the same as you used to be, actually.

You laugh, turning to look at the city. You and Stephen are silent for a moment before he speaks again, now in a more serious tone.

- Did Steve tell you what the letter was about? - he asks without looking at you. You watch an elderly couple in the street below walk across the alley.

- No, he just told me to bring it to you.

Stephen lets out a sigh, you wonder why he is being so mysterious about this.

- He wants to go back to New Austin. - he says, and you frown, turning your head to him in surprise. - He wants me to get a big enough scam to get you all back there.

You bite your lips, thinking about it.

- Why can't we stay here? - you ask. 

 - This region is becoming civilized very quickly. - He explains. - The government is determined to put an end to outlaws in this place. Especially here in Saint Denis. The rich are moving here after all, and they don't like cowboys.

- From the look on your face, you already have a scam for us. - You say after a moment, and Stephen gives a sideways smile.

- Actually, you've already found my tip. - He says finally turning to you. - I heard about the two feudal families in Rhodes. They are sunk in gold in that place. - He explains and you raise your eyebrows in surprise. - The Braithwaites supply nearly all the liquor in this town. And the Grays own nearly all the businesses in Rhodes.

- This also means that they are dangerous. - You counter, and Stephen lets out a chuckle, but nods.

- Of course they are. - He says. - That much gold will not go unprotected.

- Do you have any idea how we are going to steal them? 

Stephen sighs, running his hand through his hair to pull it back, and then leans back on the ledge with his arms.

- I haven't really thought about it yet. - he confesses. - But it will have something to do with their Moonshine, I'm sure. You will all be able to infiltrate the farms if you use the transport wagons.

- I see. - You say. - Write everything you know to Steve, maybe he can think of something too.  - You are silent for a moment before you speak again - By the way, any chance of you participating in this job?

The man laughs lightly, denying with his head.

- I don't have anything in New Austin. - he says. - My whole life is here in the south. I can't risk leaving Christine alone to take care of everything. She needs me here, and I want to stay.

You nod in agreement. You don't understand the feeling that settles in your chest when you imagine what it would be like to have something like this.

- Come have some tea while I write my letter. - He invites you with a smile, and you accompany him into his house.

You keep Stephen's letter in the saddlebag of your saddle, not wanting to crumple the paper in your jacket pocket. You hug Stephen goodbye, and tell him to write whenever he can. You end up not meeting his daughters, because they don't come home from church until the time you left, but you tell Stephen to give them a kiss for you. 

Riding towards the stable, you dismount your horse as you enter the establishment, while the owner of the place walks up to you looking excited.

- Oh, hello young lady! - He greets you. - How can I help you today?

- I need a new horse. - You tell the man as you hand the reins to the other stable employee.

- Oh, great. - He says and walks over to your horse, looking at it as if he were evaluating it. - Do you want to keep this one with us, or are you going to sell it?

- Sell. - You say. 

- And the documents?

- No documents. - You reply, if the man made any judgment with that information, he did not show it.

- Of course this will affect the value. - He comments. - But I'll take it, yes. Come with me, I'll show you the horses we have.

You walk toward the horses stored in the stables. There are not many, but the breeds look good. 

- We have Arabian horses, thoroughbreds, and appaloosas. - Comments the man signaling to the horses in front of him. - Oh, and we also have the big one there, a Missouri.

You nod, and walk toward the horses. They are all lovely, and seem obedient. You need one that is not so easily startled by gunfire, but you don't tell the seller that. 

He waits patiently beside you, whistling as you look at the horses. You let out a sigh, making your decision.

- How much for Missouri? - you ask, looking at the salesman. He smiles excitedly.

- This little beauty is yours for $250.

You whistle.

- That is expensive. 

The man lets out a weak laugh.

- Yes, yes. But it's a pure breed. - He argues without sounding aggressive. You can imagine how hard it is to keep a stable running in a town like this. - This breed is strong and lives a long life. It is also tame and loyal.

- That's fine. - You interrupt with a smile. - You can deduct the value of my horse from the price.

As you leave the stable, riding your new mare, you stroke her fur as you ride toward the saloon. You haven't thought of a name for your mount yet, you try to repeat names of famous figures along the way to choose one. 

It doesn't take long to reach the place, and many curious glances land on you. 

You tie your horse to the palanquin in front of the place, and walk inside. 

It is crowded and noisy and everyone dresses very nicely there. You don't know when Wanda will finish the job, so you decide to play a bit of poker while you wait.

You walk over to the card table and no one seems to mind if you join the game. The dealer smiles at you when you pay your entrance fee.

Many rounds later, you have probably left the table with less money than you arrived with, although you have won a few rounds. 

You walk toward the bar, and as you sip your beer, a man leans on the counter beside you, a glass of booze in his hand.

- Greetings, stranger. - He says and you raise your eyebrow suspiciously, without looking at him. 

- Can I help you, friend? - you ask snidely, hoping he will leave you alone. The man straightens his posture, turning his body toward you. 

- Just a friendly chat. - He replies with irony, taking a sip of his drink while facing you. 

- Go have a conversation with someone else then. - You grumble as you turn to him, a mock expression on your face. But then he makes an angry expression, and puts his drinking glass down on the counter.

- Let's cut straight to business then. - He says. - You stole my money.

- I beg your pardon?

- The carriage you stole in Rhodes. - He hits back. - That job was mine. 

You let out a dry laugh. 

- What do you want me to say? I'm sorry you're not a good thief?

The man then let out a laugh, completely losing his aggressive posture.

- Damn, I'm messing with you. - He says. - Actually, I gave up on that carriage. And you should know why.

You are slightly surprised by the insinuation, but you relax your body, leaning your back and elbow on the counter, while keeping your voice low to prevent snoopers from hearing you.

- Who gave you the carriage tip? - You ask the man, and he smiles and rests his body on the counter beside you.

- It wasn't the same guy as you, you can be sure of that. - He answers in a teasing tone. You smile, waiting for him to continue. - My contact warned me about the carriage, but I declined the service. - He tells you, and bites his lips thoughtfully for a moment. - I didn't imagine that anyone else would accept.

You shrugged.

- There is always more than one person wanting to steal the same things. - You retort, making me laugh slightly. - But why all the secrecy? Just tell me what you want.

The man laughs again, finding your impatience amusing. He takes a sip of his drink, looking serious again.

- I found out the origin of the carriage. - He explains - But I don't have a gang. And I need company.

You laugh, frowning, and then turn to him.

- Just tell me what you mean.

- You see this object hanging below my holster? - he asks, and your gaze immediately drops downward. - It is a talisman from the people of Wakanda.

- The natives?

He nods in agreement, and you look away from the small embroidered circle strapped to his holster. 

- I think everybody knows them as the Panthers now. - He remarks with a light humor in his voice. 

- What does this have to do with the carriage?

The man laughs.

- I'm getting there. - He jokes before turning back to a serious expression. - The American government has gone to great lengths to wipe out the natives of the region. The Wapiti people have been practically isolated in the north of the country. - He comments with a slight irritation in his voice. - And the Wakanda, well, they barely survived with oil exploration. And then, when the war happened, they recovered. They're all over the country now. - He pauses to steal some of your beer, and you cast him an incredulous look, but say nothing. - But then, the government is civilizing this area now. And they don't want to share the land with anyone else. The wagon you stole was carrying the pay of a group of soldiers, camped north of here.

- I imagine they were not happy not to be paid. - You comment, and the man laughs lightly.

- Oh yes, that's for sure. - He says. - What bothers me is what they are doing in the north. I just found out that the army is assigning soldiers to destroy the indigenous reservations. - He states and you frown - They vandalize sacred areas and shrines, and steal the horses to prevent hunting, which consequently leads to starvation.

- This is horrible. - You say, and the man shrugs his shoulders in agreement. And then you fall silent for a moment, while you ponder what exactly he wanted. You bite your lips, before speaking again. - Look, I'm sorry about the whole situation with the Wapiti and the Wakanda people.  But I don't understand how all this is my problem.

The man let out a wry smile, but didn't look at you. Then he finished the beer.

- Interesting last name you have. - He remarked. - Interesting origin.

You frowned, finally understanding. 

- Don't you dare talk about my family. - You strike back in a threatening tone. It takes a moment before he speaks again.

- Your people need your help.

You let out a wry laugh.

- I don't have a people. - You hit back aggressively. 

- Your great-grandmother was Wakanda, and your grandfather was Wapiti, you will always be part of that people, even if you decide to walk around pretending you're not.

Clenching your fists and locking your jaw in anger, you turn to the counter again, ignoring the urge you have to punch the man. You concentrate on your breathing, to calm yourself, while you can't ignore the fact that he was right.

- I'll let you think about it. - said the man, tapping you lightly on the shoulder. - By the way, my name is Erik Killmonger. Look for me when you change your mind. - He says before dropping a few dollars on the counter and walking out. 

You sink your face into your hands for a second, letting out a dissatisfied grumble. It's been so long since you thought about your parents. 

You didn't remember your childhood so well. But the more you thought about it, the clearer the few memories became. You think you lived on a ranch, you remember horses and sheep. And then you have this memory of your father showing you how to make a bow. You remember dream catchers in your house, and you swallow dry. 

Feeling a hand on your shoulder, you think Erik has returned, and turn around with a serious expression. But it is Wanda who is beside you, she smiles, and you feel your body relax immediately.

- Hi - You greet her as you look at her. She looks beautiful, her hair hanging loose over her shoulders. 

- You seem tense. - She says leaning her elbow on the counter while looking at you.

- My past is haunting me. - You playfully shrug. Wanda frowns with confusion, and when you explain it to her, she looks quite surprised.

- You never told me about your parents. - She comments tenderly. You shake your shoulders uncomfortably.

- It's a delicate topic, I think. - You confess. - It makes me sad.

Wanda held your hand gently, stroking the top of it with her finger. You smile for the touch.

- I guess... I just didn't expect it. - You say. - I didn't expect that anything related to my family would come back to me.

- You want to help them, don't you? - Wanda deduces, looking at you fondly. You smile and nod in agreement.

- But that can wait. - you say after a moment. - I'd like to spend some time with you now.

Wanda seems slightly surprised by the change of subject, and a little shy at the invitation, but she smiles at you.

- Where would you like to go? - she asks, and you bite the inside of your cheek as you think.

- We could just walk around town. - You answer. - Watch the sunset, then go to the theater.

Wanda laughs slightly at the charming smile you flash her, and then she nods. 

You walk out of the saloon, Wanda's arm wrapped around yours. Your steps are slow, both of you wanting the walk to last as long as possible.

You chat softly about various subjects, mostly reminiscing about your childhood memories, like when you tried to tame Bucky's horse and he knocked you down like a bull, or when you and Wanda got a scolding from Potts when you arrived at the camp covered in mud. 

Wanda's laughter made your stomach turn with nervousness, and you couldn't remember exactly when you fell in love with her. Part of you thinks it's always been this way, ever since she arrived in the gang with a grumpy face and worn boots, and an accent she'd lost over the years, you fell for her. Hard, fast, and immediately.

As the afternoon falls, you head for the theater. You are a little embarrassed when the box-office clerk asks you if you were a fan of the actors, and you tell him that you didn't really know the play, and he gives you an incredulous look. But Wanda smiles at you, and you just buy your tickets quickly.

You sit in the back, and you think you have paid attention to two minutes of the entire play. Wanda was laughing about the show next to you, and you held your breath as you watched her. She was breathtaking.

You didn't even hide that you were staring, although you felt your cheeks heat up when she turned her face to you, but Wanda smiled and matched the intensity of your gaze. The theater was dark, but you could still see her green orbs in the low light. 

- It's not polite to stare. - She teases you by looking straight ahead again. You smile, and then lean toward her.

- I can't help it. - You whisper in her ear. - You're beautiful. - Wanda sighs, but doesn't look away from the stage. You step back, a shy smile on your face, and then you hold your breath when you feel her hand on your thigh.

- What are you doing? - You ask breathlessly as you feel her caress your thigh in a down-and-up motion. Wanda looks around, and then turns her face to you. 

- You will be quiet for me won't you? - She asks with tenderness and malice in her voice. You feel your heart race. Wanda begins to unbuckle your belt slowly, and you look around. You are in the last row, hidden by the darkness of the theater. At least two rows are empty beside you and in front of you, and the play has just begun with a music number, and you would not be heard. Yet you shivered in anticipation.

- Wanda, for heaven's sake. - You said, but she just kept unbuttoning your pants. And then she brought your faces together and kissed you hard. Your tongue met hers at the same moment she slipped her hand into your pants, and you let out a hoarse moan against her, feeling your body tremble.

Wanda stroked your pussy with one finger superficially, making you gasp against her mouth. She smiled against the kiss, pleased with the way your body responded to her. And then she parted your mouths to deposit slow, wet kisses against your chin and down your neck, as her finger caressed you. You closed your eyes tightly, overwhelmed by the sensations.

Then Wanda penetrated your pussy, and you had to bite her shoulder to keep from screaming. As she began to move in and out of you, you whimpered as your whole body shook. 

- Be quiet. - Wanda whispered in your ear tenderly, but it was hard to obey when she stimulated your clitoris with her thumb. 

- Wanda, I'm goin' to... - You started to say, but your voice faltered. Your eyes rolled back in their sockets as she hit a particular spot. You were doing your best to control the spasms in your body, not wanting to make so much noise.

- I know, darling. - Said Wanda as she brought your foreheads together, and then she whispered against your mouth - Come for me.

You moaned against her mouth, and she only had to push into you once or twice more before you fell apart in her fingers. As you tried to normalize your breathing, Wanda removed her fingers from you, and lifted them to her own mouth, tasting you. You sighed at the image, and moved in, kissing her hard.

But then she parted your mouths, smiling innocently as she zipped up your pants and buckled your belt. 

You were about to say something, but then the theater lights came on. The play was over. It took you a few seconds to get up, your wobbly legs not helping you keep your balance.

Wanda held your arm again as you left the theater, and you invited her to come back to the saloon, and rent a room, and Wanda bit her lips as she nodded in agreement.

However, as you passed in front of one of the many alleys leading to the saloon, you heard a noise. Wanda heard it too, and you exchanged a look as you turned your heads to get a better look. It was hard to see in the darkness of the street, but then someone was thrown forward, falling to the floor of the alley. You both let out a startled exclamation, taking a step back. But then you recognized that it was the same man from the bar.

- Fuck. - You grumbled as you released yourself from Wanda, rushing into the alley and hitting the assailant with a hard punch to the face.

You helped Erik sit up next, and grimaced at his bloodied face. He looked too injured to fight, and was leaning against the wall trying to breathe normally. And then the assailant was back, a silver knife in his left hand.

It was difficult to fight in an alley, but you dodged the man's attempts to stab you and then hit him in the face again. And when he bent over in pain, you disarmed him, throwing the knife away. The man let out an angry yell and jumped at you, knocking you to the ground by your waist. You let out a grunt of pain at the impact, and were about to raise your arms to protect your face from the punch he was preparing to throw, but then he was hit with a kick to the face.

He fell to the floor unconscious, and you looked up to see Wanda with a deadly glare in the attacker's direction. But then her expression softened, and she helped you up, a small smile on her lips.

- You're losing your touch, my love. - She teased you, causing you to roll your eyes humorously. You hurried to check on Erik, kneeling beside him.

- Hey, buddy. - You say, raising your hand toward his face, looking at his wounds. It's nothing serious, he must have been hit many times and it bewildered him. - You're going to have one hell of a scar.

He laughed breathlessly, and then coughed. And then you noticed that he had a hand on his chest. You frowned, as you lowered his hand to see what it was. An open wound was bleeding from his chest, you hurried to apply pressure.

- Oh, shit. - You exclaimed, trying to stop the bleeding. But you knew it was deep enough to have hit his lung.

- We're going to lose this war, girl. - He told you weakly.

- Who did this to you? Who are these people? - you asked.

Erik coughed up blood this time. 

- Please. - he asks, reaching into his jacket pocket with his arm. He hands you a piece of paper. - Help them escape.

And then he closes his eyes, and his head drops down. You blink several times, trying to understand that he is dead. Your last connection to your family has been broken. Wanda removes your trembling hands from his bloody chest, and raises her hands to your face, making you look at her.

- We can't stay here. - She says in a serious tone, but her eyes are gentle. - We have to go now.

You nod, still in shock. Wanda drags you into the alley, and you go around the block. You say nothing, and she doesn't push. 

As you get back on your horses, you hear the whistles of the city guards in the distance, signaling that they have found Erik. 

You get on your horses, and ride toward the camp.

You think you are dying. One minute you're riding in silence beside Wanda, and the next, your vision is blurred, and you feel a pressure in your chest. You think you can't breathe, so you dismount, crouching down as you put your hands on your knees, reaching for air. All you can see is Erik's bloody chest and then the graves of your parents. You think you start to cry, but you're not quite sure.

And then, Wanda's hands are on you, and she hugs you tight, asking you to breathe. She brings you back to reality with gentle words and soft touches. 

- I'm sorry. - You manage to mumble against her hair. Wanda shakes her head in denial, and says you don't have to apologize for anything.

She hugs you for several minutes, until you can breathe normally. When you look at her, she wipes the tears from your face.

Wanda attaches the reins of your horse to hers, and you ride Lily along with her. You hug her, laying your head on her back as she rides back to camp.

Despite the softness, and Wanda's low singing, you avoid falling asleep so that you don't fall off the horse.

When you arrive, you are feeling exhausted. And you tell Wanda that you need to talk to Steve and Bucky, but she insists that you should sleep, and drags you into your tent. And then she leaves, and doesn't come back until minutes later with a bucket of water. You are startled when you notice the dried blood on your own hands, but Wanda touches your face, calming you as she helps you clean yourself up.

When she is finished, she helps you off with your boots and jacket, only now you realize how sore you were from the fight. She gives you a kiss on the forehead as you lie down, but you don't let go of her hand.

- Wanda. Stay. - You whisper to her. You don't mind that the bed is tight.

Wanda removes her boots and you open your arms for her to lie on top of you. The pressure of her body on yours keeps you anchored, and you tighten your arms against her before falling asleep.

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed - Episode 02

Warning: Spoilers for all 50 episodes!

(Masterpost ) (Previous Episode) (Next Episode)

Donkey Riding

way ho and away we go, donkey riding donkey riding way ho and away we go, riding on a donkey

Wei Wuxian and Apple are doing their best for the Ministry of Culture and Tourism. 

Xiao Zhan had trouble riding the donkey sitting side-saddle, so the Department of Questionable Practical Effects made him a fake leg to wear while riding regular style. 

Can you spot it? It’s very hard to spot. It is very convincing.

Simple Pleasures

Wei Wuxian takes his time wandering up the nearest mountain, and half of the cultivators in the land also wander up this mountain because...Night Hunting! The cultivators are hot and thirsty from walking because they forgot that they all know how to fly. 

Wei Wuxian relaxes by a well and listens to people stanning him. 

Also

I’m going to say it: Wei Wuxian never met a drinking vessel he couldn’t blow.

Everything is Beautiful at the Ballet

The actress who plays A-Yan is named Zhang Linran. She probably has studied dance since she was 4 and now she gets her big break which turns out to be feeding an apple to a donkey. So let’s pause for a second to look at how beautifully she moves.  

Reunions are Awkward, Part 1

Wei Wuxian meets up with one of his family members and it goes super well. 

I...like Jin Ling? He’s much less of a douchebag than his dad, his uncles Jin, Jiang, and Mo (the three stooges), and every damn one of his Jin cousins. He’s genuinely brave (his Dad’s primary good quality) and his hair is on fleek. He’s still a whiny diaper baby, but I like him. 

(much more after the cut!)

Then Jiang Cheng shows up, looking fine as hell and radiating peak arrogant-prick energy.

When he discovers that ‘Mo Xuanyu” stuck a piece of paper to Jin Ling, he tells the child to literally murder him. Excellent uncleing! A+++++ would recommend.  

“In fact, literally murder anyone who uses Yiling Laozu’s tools, like talismans, lure flags, or spirit compasses - basically murder everyone in the Lan Clan plus those other fanboys we saw coming up the hill. Then get out there and make some friends, goddamn it!”

These nets full of cultivators on this daytime night hunt are the only time we ever see anything in a net during a night hunt.  In fact dudes constantly go night hunting and the only prey we ever see is rock lady, murder turtle, and a couple of rag mops in the lake. 

You Are Not Qualified to Speak to Me

Also radiating arrogant-prick energy on this occasion is Lan Wangji. He has been using pettiness as a weapon since long before he met this Jiang Cheng turkey, and he *brings it* when Jiang Cheng tries to have a conversation with him.

Letting your eyes wander everywhere except to his punchable face while you ignore his passive-aggressive questions? Quality work. 

Dropping a silence spell on his child and then letting your own child explain it to him? Golden. 

Lan Wangji is never ever going to forgive Jiang Cheng for what he did on cliff day, and his silence here is as pointed as an ice pick. I suspect the last words Lan Wangji actually spoke to him were “Jiang Wanyin, stop it,” sixteen years ago. 

Jiang Cheng is actually the bigger person in this particular interaction, visibly mastering his temper and telling Jin Ling to take his medicine. 

Reflecting

Wei Wuxian hangs out by a beautiful river and hallucinates for a while. River Jiang Yanli is nurturing and River Jiang Cheng is pissed off, so there are no surprises there.  River Jiang Cheng thinks that Wei Wuxian is a promise-breaking douchebag. He’s not exactly wrong. 

Courtesy of convenient gossiping cultivators, Wei Wuxian discovers that the 16 year old arrogant kid from the Jin clan who his brother from the Jiang clan has custody of is actually and quite obviously Jin Rulan.

Well fuck I guess now I care about something, that’s inconvenient. 

Needing to help parent the child of the sister who parented him is what draws Wei Wuxian fully into his new life. 

As soon as he has this realization, Apple comes back from roaming around, and never gives him any trouble after this for the rest of the story. Which...probably doesn’t mean anything. 

Wen Gravesite

Does Wen Ning hang out here because it’s where he and his (dead) people came from? Oh great, now I am sad. 

Judging by all the leaves on this grave thingy I’m going to say that this grave tender dude is, ah, not very good at his job. 

Get him, Jingyi!

I feel like maybe we all focus too much on how Lan Jingyi is so hilarious and sardonic and not enough on how he is a such a biscuit. 

Soul Grass

As mentioned in the previous post, Chinese spiritual concepts don’t always translate well into English. Soul grass? Sure, why not. 

This is where Wei Wuxian’s Sherlock Holmes brain starts to work, although he still doesn’t remember really basic stuff about Dafan Mountain. Dying and changing bodies is rough on the old neurochemistry. This creates more opportunities for flashbacks, however, and if there’s one thing The Untamed deffo needs more of, it’s kissing flashbacks.

Temple Statue

Presumably grave-tender dude is also in charge of clearing away spiderwebs at the temple, because it’s not getting done. 

Jin Ling walks into the temple blaspheming at full volume. 

Since this isn’t a Greek story, he isn’t immediately struck blind for this. Then when he wishes for the statue to come alive, it obligingly does.  Everything’s coming up Rulan!

Wei Wuxian shows up to rescue all the kids by throwing talismans at the monster which does not tip anyone off to who he is. 

Baby Cultivator Babysitting

Lan Wangji chills out in the cultivators’ pavilion with Jiang Cheng and their mutual hate boners.

Meanwhile, Wei Wuxian forgets all about his nephew and turns into cool professor guy, explaining the basics of soul-eating to the baby cultivators and gleefully encouraging their fear of Hanguang-Jun’s punishments. 

Because the Lan babies are good filial children they are super respectful and engaged with this random adult who is lecturing them. They also - like their own Hanguang-Jun at their age - see and admire Wei Wuxian’s intellect. It’s easy to forget how extremely smart Wei Wuxian is, because of how extremely dumb Wei Wuxian is.

Lan Jingyi suddenly figures out Wei Wuxian is not crazy. 

Bis. Kit. 

Then Rock Lady shows up and Jin Ling sticks 6 arrows into her while Lans Jingyi and Sizhui stand around not bothering to draw their swords.

I see a lot of comments about the bad effects in the statue sequences but I think Rock Lady is all right. The figure animation is decent and the lighting is no worse on her than on everything else in the scene. Her hair is nice, for a rock person.

Admittedly I just finished watching Guardian which has CGI monsters so bad they may have injured my retinas and possibly also my DNA, so the bar, for me, is pretty low. Rock lady clears it with room to spare.   

Note: Wei Wuxian’s flute playing does zippity towards controlling the statue. Not sure what his plan was here.

Wen Ning Kicks Ass

Now we get to meet Wen Ning, who appears to be a stone-cold badass. Later we will discover how hilariously inaccurate that assessment is. 

While all versions of Wen Ning are delightful, this version of Wen Ning is also...strangely attractive? He’s got a Patti-Smith-Horses-Era vibe here, instead of his more usual lost-baby-dork vibe. And his dreamy “I have nails in my head” expression is intriguing. 

I mean, he’s not a total snack like zombie Song Lan or pre-zombie Song Lan or blind Song Lan or post-zombie Song Lan, but this look is a good one for Wen Ning, is what I’m saying.

Reunions are Awkward, Part 2

Lan Wangji, who has 99% already recognized Wei Wuxian because of the haunted sword and the fierce jawline and beautiful neck and tiny tiny waist, is summoned by his flute playing as inexorably as the Ghost General was. 

Jiang Cheng also recognizes Wei Wuxian and goes into full beatdown mode, thwarted (silently) by Lan Wangji. Wei Wuxian attempts to preserve his incognito by sassing Jiang Cheng in as sibling-like a manner as possible. 

Hanguang-Jun’s Pro-Ghost Agenda Has Been Clear for Some Time

This Jiang/Lan fight is hilarious when you consider the implications.

Macroexpression vs. Microexpression

Mo Xuanyu brought Wei Wuxian back using sacrifice summons, a dark ritual invented by Wei Wuxian that he, most likely, did NOT show to Lan Wangji back in the day. So it’s a pretty safe bet that Lan Wangji doesn’t know that Wei Wuxian was gifted a body, rather than stealing one.

when your brother turns around, you must whip him you will never live it down unless you whip him

When Jiang Cheng lets loose with Zidian, it’s not just because he’s angry. He’s using purple power to force Wei Wuxian’s ghost out of the body he’s apparently possessed. And Lan Wangji instantly STOPS him from doing that.

Clan Leader Jiang: this person has been possessed, against their will, by an evil ghost

Future Chief Cultivator Lan: Counterpoint: I am banging the ghost

Flashback Time

Welcome to your 30-episode flashback!

Once I used to join in Every boy and girl was my friend Now there's revolution, but they don't know What they're fighting

Let us close our eyes Outside their lives go on much faster Oh, we won't give in We'll keep living in the past

Road Tripping to Summer School

Gosh I’m looking forward to younger, kinder, more relatable Jiang Cheng.

...prick. 

Incidentally, until now this episode didn’t know that Jiang Cheng has smile muscles, and neither did the person who glued his wig on for him.

I Like Rabbits

Here we have our first rabbit in a large collection of rabbit iconography that appears in The Untamed. 

Instead of sending everyone to the Wikipedia page for Tu'er Shen I’m going to take this opportunity to rec the short film Kiss of the Rabbit God by Andrew Thomas Huang (tw: blood, tw:body-mod cutting) which you can read about and watch over at  Nowness.com 

Particularly if you are a queer person of Chinese heritage, check it out. 

So. What the fuck are these? Are they food? 

Are they made from wax? Or corn starch? or pig intestines? 

Wei Wuxian runs off to get laid drunk and Jiang Cheng grumps about it. Jiang Yanli reminds him that being free is a Jiang Clan Rule, so really Wei Wuxian is following the rules by not following the rules. Does that mean he’s not free? My head hurts. 

Jiang Cheng: yes but grump grump grump

Jiang Yanli: Nothing bad will ever happen because of A-Xian’s choices, trust me

Outro

Wei Wuxian faint tally: one  Caught by: the cold hard ground

Soundtrack: 1. Donkey Riding by Great Big Sea 2. Living in the Past by Jethro Tull 3. Whip It by Devo

Fic prompt:  Lan Wangji’s internal monologue while he sits in the pavilion with Jiang Cheng 

If you write a fic from this prompt and want to share, please post a link in comments!

Bonus: Wang Zuocheng, macro-expression king

Episode 03 Restless Rewatch coming soon!