#swan necklace in honor of his beloved

[mr-vanhellis]

I'll admit it, I'm a pathetic man enjoyer...

[blossom-hwa]

Dawn - MINHO

LOOK I KNOW I’VE SCREAMED ABOUT THIS FOR LIKE A DAY BUT I’M SO FUCKING EXCITED I CAN’T BELIEVE I WROTE THIS IN LESS THAN TWO DAYS. THANK U ANON WHO ASKED ME TO WRITE THIS YOU PULLED ME OUT OF WRITER’S BLOCK (constellation is giving me ISSUES)

pls don’t let this flop i’ll be v v sad 

Pairing: Minho x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, angst, royalty!au, fantasy!au

Triggers: mild violence (nothing too graphic), death

Word Count: 9.2k

For many, twenty-one signals a new beginning. But for some, it only marks the end of freedom. 

SKZ Masterlist

Twenty-one. Minho hates that number. It signals the beginning of change, the beginning of the end of everything he’s come to know and love.

Twenty-one. How old he will be when he comes of age. How old he will be at his coronation. How old he will be when his parents will expect him to find a partner. A partner who is rich. A partner who has power. A partner who will rule with him until the end of their days.

A partner who will bear them grandchildren.

The door slams behind him and Minho doesn’t even bother to disguise his annoyance as he stalks down the hall, boots clicking loudly against the marble floor. He can almost hear the sighs emanating from his parents behind the wooden doors, but he pushes the thought of that out of his mind.

Twenty-one. For many, it signals something exciting. Coming of age. Becoming an adult. Setting out on a new life with someone they love.

But not for Minho. His coming kingship will only be an extension of all he’s been learning for the past twenty years. His parents have been asking for his input on running the kingdom for the past five. Now, he’ll just be fully taking the reins. Not much new.

Well, he gets a new crown. Minho rolls his eyes at the thought. Another useless and heavy ornament to make his head ache and his scalp itch.

His mother’s previous words echo in his head. “You must choose a partner over the next two weeks. If you do not, we will be forced to.”

“No one’s forcing you to do anything,” Minho grumbles under his breath. He dreads the next two weeks more than anything else in his life. The celebrations for the first week will mark his birthday. The celebrations for the next week will mark his coronation.

The thought makes him sick to his stomach. Not because he doesn’t feel ready to rule, but mostly because he isn’t ready for all of his (limited) freedom to be taken away in such a rush. Already he can feel the seconds ticking away, marking off every moment of his remaining time as a prince.

Minho sighs. His feet have taken him to the ballroom, his favorite place in the palace. He looks up at the doors and sighs again, even more heavily. He still has two weeks, Minho reasons. Might as well have some fun with it.

With that, he disappears through the large gilt doors.

. . .

Twenty-one. You hate that number. It signals the end of your life as you know it.

The literal end.

“Curses,” you mumble, tugging at the gem resting against your throat. It glimmers in the moonlight, a brilliant sparkle against the pure white feathers of your dress.

You wonder for the umpteenth time why your uncle chose you as the successor of the forest instead of his only son. Chan was strong and powerful – much more powerful than you, at any rate. Shouldn’t your uncle have seen beforehand what sort of destruction Chan would cause if he chose you over him?

But you know the answer why. Had your uncle chosen Chan, the demise of the forest would have come much more quickly than it already has. At least the years Chan spent hiding away, learning the dark arts, allowed you to increase your strength and magic. Had Chan been appointed ruler of the forest, he would have destroyed it much more quickly in his quest for power. At least now you can fight back.

Somewhat.

You wonder, also for the umpteenth time, what your uncle would say if he knew how Chan had cursed you.

Ruler by night, swan by day. If the graceful plumage of your dress doesn’t serve as enough of a reminder of your situation, the constant transformations at sunrise and sunset certainly drive you insane. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to the awful transition between the two forms.

Well, in two weeks, on your twenty-first birthday, maybe you won’t have to.

Immediately you shake those thoughts away. It’s too terrifying to think of, being forced to spend the rest of your life as a swan.

The only way to avoid the permanent transformation is to break Chan’s curse. The “easiest” way to do that is by killing him. But Chan is careful, very careful. Despite your and your friends’ best efforts, you cannot find a way to corner him.

Your uncle once told you that you were far more powerful than Chan would ever be. He said this just two days after he appointed you his successor, the day after Chan disappeared. Terrified and confused, you’d only watched numbly as he clasped a necklace around your throat.

“This will protect you,” he’d said quietly. “It is imbued with a magic as old as time – Chan will not be able to fully surpass it, ever. However, its magic will expire on your twenty-first birthday. You must find your own power before then.”

“Twenty-one,” you murmur, clutching the gem tight in your fist. “The end of everything and the beginning of nothing.”

You stand up on the soft grass, feathers sweeping gently across your arms. Twenty-one or no, you are still the ruler of the forest, and you have a duty to aid those who live under your protection. Another night of patrol, of helping the wounded, of fighting off the growing threats Chan has been sending into your territory.

Another night gone by before the day you become a bird forever.

. . . . .

Throngs of people crowd the streets and Minho smiles behind his mask of pale green. He’s slipped away from the castle, only letting Changbin, Hyunjin, and Felix know where he’s going. Changbin and Hyunjin are somewhere in the crowd watching over him. Felix stayed in the palace to cover for his absence.

For a few precious hours, Minho has freedom. No one knows him behind his mask. No one knows him behind his forest nymph costume. Clothed in earthy green and brown, he looks like just another reveler in the streets, celebrating the coming birthday of the country’s beloved crown prince.

He used to think the costume concept was stupid. Now, he’s very grateful for the tradition.

The moon rises quickly into the sky as the last rays of the sun fade, and Minho finds himself pushed into a crowd of dancers. As the moon climbs higher into the stars, the cheery dance tunes dissipate, leaving behind cool, calm lyricism to honor the heavens who put the country’s kind rulers upon their thrones.

He dances with person after person, whirling from one hand to another as gasping laughter turns to serene smiles under the blanket of stars overhead. In between songs, he breaks through the dancing throng for a breather.

Then he sees a vision. That is what you must be – no human glows like that under the moon. No human is the vision of ethereal beauty that you are. You only sway slightly to the beat of the song, but even your simple movements are like a ripple of shining silk – graceful, ethereal.

As though in a trance, he finds himself walking towards where you stand on the outskirts of the crowd. You turn around as he steps closer and Minho has to fight for breath.

Even with an ivory mask covering your face, he can tell you’re a true picture of elegance. Your dress is made entirely of pure white feathers, and your mask protrudes slightly at the nose, like a beak. A swan, he thinks dazedly.

Warm, dark eyes stare into his – delicate, pure, but with a hint of fire that only increases his attraction to you.

“May I help you?”

Minho thinks he’s having a heart attack. Only that would explain his inability to breathe or think properly. Your voice only makes you more attractive.

“I apologize if I startled you, my lady.” He bows. “I could not help but notice you had no dance partner and thought that such a beauty should not only sway on the sidelines. I wonder if you would like to dance with me?”

The half-second of waiting is the most excruciating moment of Minho’s life so far. All the breath rushes out of him when you nod your head slightly and take his hand, a smile curving your lips. “I would.”

. . .

When Ryujin and the others encouraged you to go to the celebrations (read: shoved you out of the forest), you didn’t know why. Immediately you’d attempted to slip back between the trees, but Yeji’s and Jeongin’s glares were too scary.

“You’re spending all your time worrying about the curse and the forest,” Lia had explained. “We can patrol for one night. Take some time to relax at the celebrations – we’ll call you back if there is anything urgent.”

You weren’t sure at the time. But right now, clasped in the arms of a man in a green mask, you’re glad you came. You feel calm. Relaxed. His touch somehow soothes your skin and clears away the worries in your mind, leaving you with a smile on your face that is far easier and lighter than the ones you’ve been forcing recently.

It doesn’t hurt that he’s one of the most handsome men you’ve ever met. Having known Yang Jeongin, Han Jisung, and Kim Seungmin, most men you know have a lot of competition. However, even though most of his face is hidden behind his mask, you can tell your dancing partner can rival them all.

He’s ethereal. Graceful. He whirls you around in twists and turns and leaves you breathless with the utter elegance with which he moves. You haven’t danced this way in a long time, not since your uncle died. The last time you danced was on his birthday. Two days before Chan killed him.

You shove those thoughts away.

As the moon travels the night sky, you lose yourself in the dance again, in the warm brown eyes of your partner and the dizzying press of his hands against yours. Small talk and quiet laughter contrast with the raucous crowd, but you don’t care. For now, the world only consists of your partner and you.

Too soon, though, someone calls “Prince Minho!” and your partner’s expression deflates, his warm eyes dimming. “I must go now,” he says, holding your hands tightly. “You know my name now, but may I have one from you?”

“Y/N,” you reply, smiling sadly. You will likely never see the prince – Minho – again. Both because of your situation and his status.

“Will I see you again?” he asks, eyes sparkling with hope.

It breaks your heart to do it, but you shake your head. “Probably not,” you murmur. “I am not from here, and I must return to my home as soon as I can.”

There’s a little silence.

“May I at least see your face, then?” Minho finally asks. “I would like to remember the woman who so enchanted me tonight.”

You smile, bringing your hands to your mask. “If you will let me see yours.”

It seems to take an eternity for Minho to bring down his mask, but there isn’t enough time in the world to drink in the sight of his face. He’s beautiful – cat-like eyes, pink lips, a graceful nose. His features are even more enhanced by your knowledge of his ringing laugh and gentle character.

“You’re more beautiful than I ever imagined,” you whisper. A hand goes up to caress his cheek.

“I could say the same for you, my lady,” Minho says, raising a hand to cover the one you’ve placed on his face. He brings it down, holding your fingers tightly in his grasp. “If on the off chance I see you again, I hope you will remember me.” He presses a kiss to your knuckles.

You smile. “I could never forget.”

Someone calls Minho’s name again and he enters the crowd, giving you one last wave. You wave back and watch until he fully disappears into the throng.

If only you had time. If only you weren’t cursed. If only you could tell Minho yes, you would definitely see him again.

“If only,” you whisper, absently touching the place on your knuckles where his lips brushed your skin. “If only.”

. . . . .

“Has he been like this all day?” Felix asks in a stage whisper. He puts on an innocent expression when Minho turns around to shoot him an annoyed look, but it’s clear he meant for Minho to hear.

“Obviously.” Hyunjin leans against the wall, flipping through a book. “Want to know why?”

“Hwang Hyunjin, I swear to the all the stars –”

“He met a girl,” Changbin jeers, fake-swooning even as Minho throws a pen at him. He effortlessly dodges anyway, as would be expected of the head of the prince’s guard.

Memories of your gentle touch, your delicate face, and the spark of burning fire in your deep eyes flood Minho’s mind and not for the first time since your parting, Minho aches to see you again. But your voice and the despondent look on your face told him that such a meeting probably won’t happen again.

Still, though, Minho is glad he met you. Because if only for a few hours, at least, he felt completely relaxed. Free. And maybe in love.

If you’d seen her, you might understand, Changbin.

Felix gasps, as per his duties as the melodramatic younger brother. “A girl?”

Minho refuses to answer.

“But isn’t that a good thing?” Felix’s eyebrows furrow and he drops onto the seat next to Minho. “You know who you want to marry now! More or less, anyway? So Mother can stop beating you up over finding a wife?”

A deep sigh leaves Minho’s lips. That’s what he would have hoped too. But given your response from last night, he doesn’t think that will happen at all. “She lives far away from here,” he mumbles. “Said she probably couldn’t see me again. Plus, I have no idea of her social status. Mother might not even approve.”

“Maybe we can find her,” Hyunjin volunteers, closing the book. “What was her name?”

“Y/N. But don’t try to find her,” he says. “I don’t think she would take very kindly to that. We may or may not meet again. Neither of us knows.”

Silence.

“But even if you meet again, it might be too late.” Felix’s voice is unusually somber. Changbin and Hyunjin shoot him warning looks, but Minho’s far from blowing up. What Felix said is very true. He might very well have a wife picked by his parents’ hands by the time he sees you next. Assuming he ever sees you again.

Changbin’s voice is uncharacteristically gentle. “I think we need a break,” he says brusquely. “Your lessons are finished and everyone’s preparing for the celebrations tomorrow, so I don’t think we’ll be missed if we go on a hunt.” He grins.

“A hunt?” Minho echoes.

“Yes.”

“The ambassador gifted you a new bow yesterday, right? Why not try it out?” Felix’s eyes sparkle with excitement.

A small smile spreads on Minho’s face. “Why not?”

. . .

The sun has begun to sink in the sky as you circle over the lake, your maidens following behind. Soon, you’ll be human again, but you need to land before that happens so you don’t go crash-landing onto the ground.

You’ve just begun your descent onto the silvery water when Lia’s voice crashes into your mind.

Y/N, watch out!

You jerk upwards, looking behind you. Terror races through your veins when you see the huge hawk tearing through the trees.

Chan hasn’t appeared so blatantly like this in years, not since the day he cursed you into your current form. But the bird is unmistakably him – you can see it in the hatred in the hawk’s eyes.

What is he doing here? He knows he can’t kill you just yet – the magic on your uncle’s necklace will have to wear off first – so why is he here already?

Your wings flap faster and you shoot forward, spurred on by the raw terror you feel for your cousin. If there was once any affection between you two, it is now long gone.

Run, Y/N. His cruel voice echoes through your mind. Or should I say fly? That’s all you can do, isn’t it? Hide from danger instead of facing it like a true ruler?

You close your mind, the one thing you’ve learned to do perfectly since Chan left. When he first disappeared, his voice used to torment you for hours on end until your uncle taught you to shut him out. Your thoughts become blissfully empty for a moment until terror takes over again.

Greenery flashes beneath you as you soar through the trees, weaving between trunks and ducking under branches. You hear noises that suggest your maidens are attempting to help, but Chan has his own followers to fight them off.

The sun is just beginning to fade over the horizon. Heartened by the sight, you curve your path, attempting to make it back to the lake where you can defend yourself on solid ground. Your human form can do nothing in the air.

With a crow of joy, you dive down to the lake, heart beating wildly in relief as you paddle to the edge of the water. The sun finally sinks beneath the horizon, and you endure the agony of the transformation back to a human.

You hear Jisung screeching and Lia yelling. The voices of your other friends sound from various parts of the forest. You turn around to greet them but stop short when you see the man standing in front of you.

By all the stars, how could this happen?

“Minho?”

. . .

Everything happened way too quickly for Minho to process. All he knows is that he was aiming with his arrow, planning to strike down one of the birds in flight – preferably the swan, because what a prize that would have been for the castle – but he lowered his weapons, mesmerized by the bird’s grace even in the face of danger.

It reminded him of you. Pure, perfect, delicate, yet still a fighter. Fighting to survive. He couldn’t kill it.

And then the bird turned out to be you.

For now, he stands dumbstruck, staring at your perfect face.

I just watched a swan turn into a human.

Maybe if he blinks really hard, this will just be a hallucination. Maybe he fell off his horse while hunting and got knocked out and now he’s dreaming.

He blinks once, then twice. There is no doubt that it’s you. Your dress is the same. Your necklace is the same. Your warm eyes, wide with shock, are the same. So is your face.

Not a dream.

I just watched a swan turn into the girl I might have fallen in love with and it’s not a dream.

A shudder of terror and relief runs down Minho’s spine. He’s suddenly very, very glad that he did not release the arrow.

“Minho?” you whisper again, stepping slightly closer. “How… how did you get here? How did you get into the forest?”

Minho swallows hard. “I… just rode in? On my horse?”

“That shouldn’t have been possible,” you murmur, more to yourself than him. “Who…?”

Then the hawk lands and for the second time in less than five minutes, a bird transforms into a person. Minho thinks he might just faint right then and there.

This person has blond curls and skin as pale as the moon. Handsome, yes, but with a dangerously evil glint in his eye that sends fear spiking into Minho’s heart.

Your eyes turn dark. “You let him in.”

The newcomer raises his arms in a ‘what can you do?’ gesture, smiling coldly. “I might not be able to kill you yet, but a human with human weapons certainly can. I just thought it was a golden opportunity when I saw him on his horse.” His smile turns into a snarl. “But again, I overestimated how useful humans can be. Should’ve used the earthen elves.” The dark eyes lock onto Minho’s, rendering him frozen. “You were supposed to shoot her, you know.”

“Good thing I didn’t,” Minho snaps.

The cold laugh that echoes through the forest sends chills up his spine. “An amusing human. Too bad that you must die.”

“Enough.” You step in front of Minho and he’s a little ashamed to admit his relief, though it quickly turns to worry for your safety. “You brought him in here, Chan, didn’t you? So let him go. He has nothing to do with this anymore.”

“But why?” The man – Chan – cocks an eyebrow. “He knows about us now. He saw you and I transform. Shouldn’t you want him dead as well?”

“Is killing your only solution to everything?” The calmness of your voice astounds Minho, but the whiteness of your clenched knuckles gives your tension away.

“Oh, I don’t enjoy killing, cousin.” Chan smirks. “I only do it when necessary.”

And without warning, he raises an arm and a bolt of light shoots straight at Minho’s chest.

. . .

You never knew you could move so fast. All you knew in the moment was that Minho couldn’t die, not at the hands of your evil cousin.

Chan’s bolt of light strikes your shimmering shield with a crash that reverberates through the trees and sends ripples across the lake. For a terrifying second, the shield almost splits under the pressure of Chan’s power. But the knowledge that Minho will die if you don’t fight steels your mind and the shield shimmers brighter, stronger.

With a shout that’s more akin to a roar, you send the ball of light flying back at Chan. The momentary pride you feel at deflecting his attack fades quickly when you realize how drained you are. Chan, on the other hand, doesn’t even look like he’s broken a sweat.

Not fair.

“You’ve improved, I’ll give you that.” Chan smiles coldly. “We’ll see if it’s enough by next week.”

Your nails dig into your palm. “Get out of my forest.”

“It won’t be yours much longer, dear cousin. I’ll be back.” He disappears into a swirl of black.

“I don’t doubt it,” you mutter.

“Um, Y/N?” Minho’s confused voice breaks into your thoughts. “I’m sorry, but… what just happened?”

Right. Now you need to explain.

“Walk with me.” You give him an apologetic glance. “I’ll explain everything as I make my rounds.”

You thank all the heavens for Minho’s silence as you explain the situation. How your uncle chose you to rule instead of his son, Chan. How Chan came back and cursed you into your swan form but your uncle’s magic protected you enough to keep you from permanently transforming until your twenty-first birthday, which is less than two weeks away.

“You should not be here,” you say bluntly, eyes roving the trees for anything out of the ordinary. “The forest is only visible to those who live in it, unless someone shows you the way in.”

Minho nods. “That makes sense. I thought it was strange that I’d never seen this part of the forest before. Did Chan…?”

Your lips curl. “I suppose. He probably lured you here too.”

It’s a quiet night. When you and Minho fall silent, it’s as though the entire forest is waiting for one of you to speak.

“I almost released the arrow,” Minho says quietly. It takes you a moment to hear him, then another to comprehend his words. And when you realize what he means, all you can really say is “oh.”

Silence again.

“Why didn’t you?” you finally ask.

Minho shrugs. His eyes bore into yours. “The swan… as I watched you flying, it reminded me of you. Of our dance. I felt I couldn’t kill such grace.”

You feel your cheeks heat up slightly. “I see.”

“This curse…” Minho trails off, then takes your hand. “Is there any way I can help?”

If only.

“I wish you could.” You smile gently, trying to hide your own pain. “I’m afraid this is a battle between just Chan and I.”

One that he’ll probably win.

“Do you know how to defeat him? Any idea?” Minho presses.

You snort a little. “I somehow have to unlock my power. Once I find it, I should be able to overpower Chan. My uncle once told me I would be more powerful than Chan someday, but I can’t see how that could be true.”

The two of you fall silent again. Then Minho takes both of your hands in his.

“Y/N.” He forces you to look at him. “You have a reservoir of strength in you that I believe is only untapped. Once you realize your power, I have no doubt that you will be able to defeat your cousin.”

“I have less than two weeks, Minho.” You smile sadly.

Somehow, the two of you have made it through the forest and are back at the lake. Moonlight shimmers in the smooth surface and reflects onto Minho’s face, illuminating it in the night. He looks ethereal under the moon’s pale rays and your heart skips a beat.

“Don’t lose hope.” Minho smiles. “I believe in you.”

His words touch you in a way that nearly brings tears to your eyes. “Thank you,” you murmur.

“I should go now. My friends are probably worried.” Minho adjusts the bow on his shoulder. “Will… will I see you again?”

You want to say yes. You really, really want to say yes, but that could just put Minho in more harm’s way. But he already knows about the forest, and you don’t trust yourself to do a memory wipe on him.

There is a way to keep him safe.

“Yes, but wait a moment.” You remove your hand from his. “Don’t move.”

Breathing deeply, you muster your powers until the growing warmth in your heart manifests into a small, pulsating ball of magic in your hand. With a soft breath, you blow the magic onto Minho, watching as the sparkles settle and disappear into his skin.

“This will protect you from my cousin,” you tell him. “I may not be able to fight directly, but I am quite good at defensive magic. He won’t be able to easily curse you. But you must be careful not to let anyone know where you’re going and trust no one. Chan has many spies, both human and nonhuman.”

“Thank you,” Minho breathes. He reaches forward and squeezes your hand.

Bravery rushes through your veins and you kiss him on the cheek. “Thank you. For choosing not to shoot. For wanting to help.”

Minho looks slightly red under the moonlight, though he has enough sauciness left in him to press a kiss to your hand. “I will see you soon.”

The memory of his lips stays with you long after he’s disappeared.

. . . . .

Chan remains suspiciously quiet for the next few days, allowing Minho to come and go quietly. Every time you ask him if anything happened, he’s happy – but also worried – to shake his head and reassure you that he’s been fine.

The nights spent walking with you on the soft grass become the times when Minho feels the most at home in a way he could never feel in the palace. Surrounded by nature and greenery with the occasional burst of sparkling magic, a certain warmth fills Minho that he could never find in the cold, marble walls of the palace. Despite the terror he felt that first day in the forest, he finds himself grimly thanking Chan for the opportunity to come here.

For the opportunity to see you again.

Typically, Minho isn’t one to believe in romantic ideas like love at first sight. That’s more of Hyunjin’s job – whenever the guard isn’t on duty, anyone can find him in the library, reading yet another romance novel. Once, Minho took a peek at the pages. He almost threw up right then and there, and he’d teased Hyunjin for an entire week afterwards.

If Hyunjin knew what was happening right now – well, if any of his friends knew, really – they would be teasing him to no tomorrow. But Minho doesn’t care anymore. The feelings in his chest might have scared him at first, but after a week of coming to the forest, he’s ready to embrace them.

First love. Minho is sure this is what it is. He thinks about you at all times of the day, hoping that your swan form is safe from predators, praying that Chan doesn’t find some way to defeat you just yet. He lives for the times he gets to see you, glowing under the moonlit sky.

On the night of his birthday, he sneaks away from the palace and dances with you under a canopy of trees and stars, the still waters of the lake shimmering in the distance.

“I love you, Y/N,” Minho confesses that night just before he has to leave. “I know it’s only been a week, but I swear by the stars, I love you.”

Though a smile settles on your face, your eyes turn sad. You drop your gaze to his hand linked with yours. “I love you too, Minho.” You swallow hard and look up. “I really do.”

Neither of you say the words bouncing through your minds, but they hang in the air anyway, creating a thick blanket of tension that threatens to suffocate the two of you.

Minho ignores it. “Will you come to the palace next week?” he asks. His heart swells with hope. “It would be an honor to dance with you the night before my coronation.”

At that, you hang your head. “I cannot promise, Minho.”

It’s what he expected. His coronation is your birthday, and you need to break your curse before then. There was little chance, if any, that you could come. Even so, Minho feels a bit dejected. “I understand,” he forces out.

“I’m sorry.” You squeeze his hand. “If I could…”

“I know.” He presses a kiss on your cheek. “But just in case, I’ll be waiting for you.”

“On the day of, I will send a message to you.” You smile shakily. “You will know if I’m coming or not on the day.”

“So last minute,” Minho teases. “But no matter. I will wait.”

“We don’t think Chan will come into the open until that day, but all the same, I think you should avoid the forest for the next week,” you caution. “He’s been suspiciously quiet, which only means he’s planning something. I don’t want you to get caught in it.”

Minho furrows his eyebrows. He doesn’t like it – he understands the risk, but he wants to be at your side in case you’re in danger. There is little doubt in his mind that you can hold your own, at least for a while, but he wants to be there for you.

“Do you have a plan?” he asks.

You frown slightly. “He can’t hurt me until my birthday. He’s sure to remain in hiding until the day before, then strike at midnight. I will just have to be ready then.”

Minho frowns. He hates that plan. There’s so many variables and so little certainty of anything.

“I know you don’t like it.” You smile sadly. “I don’t either. I want to see you for the rest of my days. But it would kill me if you were hurt, so for my sake, please don’t come.”

“Not even tomorrow?”

“Don’t pout at me.” You reach over and straighten his lips into a line. “That’s better. And no, not even tomorrow.”

Minho attempts to smile. “If I can’t see you until my coronation, may I request one thing from you?”

“Within reason.” A bit of sparkle comes back into your eyes and Minho drinks in the sight, knowing he won’t be able to see it for at least another week.

“May I kiss you?” he breathes.

Breathlessly, he waits for your tiny nod of approval, then leans forward to slot his lips against yours. And in that kiss, he pours all of the emotions he feels for you that he could never put into words.

You sigh slightly against his lips and pull him closer. Minho feels heady with bliss at the pressure of your lips on his, the touch of your hands on his face. He holds your waist, rubbing soft circles against the feathers of your dress.

Finally, you break away for air. With pink cheeks and bright eyes, Minho thinks you look more beautiful than you ever have before.

“You should go,” you finally whisper. “It’s nearing dawn.”

Minho sighs. “I’ll wait for your answer on my coronation day. If you come, I might just give you another kiss.” He winks.

Cringing slightly, you turn away. “I guess I’m not going, then,” you mutter.

“Your smile tells me otherwise.” Minho swoops in and plants a last kiss on your cheek, then on your lips. “Good luck, my swan.”

It’s the first time he’s ever called you that. But the name slips from his mouth so easily that he knows, should he ever see you again, that that will be his name for you. His swan.

You reach up to kiss his cheek. “Thank you, my prince.”

. . . . .

One day passes without trouble. Then a second. And a third. And a fourth.

By the fifth, you’re a nervous wreck. As a swan, you flutter from tree to tree restlessly, just waiting for trouble in the form of Chan to appear. Tomorrow is the day before your birthday. Chan is sure to strike sometime then.

It’s also the night before Minho’s coronation.

You’ve decided not to go. Chan will follow you anywhere, so better you fight him in the forest than in a ballroom full of humans. Fewer deaths. Fewer casualties.

Though who knows how many of those there will be if Chan wins.

Hopelessness settles in your veins as the sun begins to set. You land on the lake, limbs heavy but head buzzing with adrenaline. Your fellow swan maidens land beside you, all peering nervously into the forest.

I have a bad feeling, Yuna murmurs.

We all do, Ryujin snaps.

You shush them.

Gliding along the lake, you wait for the sun to disappear, for night to take the place of day. So absorbed are you in the rays that you barely hear the slight whizzing of something flying by your beak.

Fly!

Immediately you flap your wings, attempting to lift off from the water. But something strikes your side and immediately you feel woozy. Wings limp, you drop back into the lake with a splash. Next to you, your maidens go limp as well.

Just as you black out, something tugs your unresisting body to shore.

. . .

Minho slips into bed, gazing out of his window at the full moon. He wonders if you’re safe, then remembers you must be. The jewel. Your necklace. You will be okay for now.

He has to believe it.

“Until tomorrow,” he whispers. Tomorrow, he will have word from you. Tomorrow.

He closes his eyes and drifts into a fitful sleep.

. . .

You wake, head throbbing and wrists tied, in a tiny room. Your five maidens lie around you in various states of wakefulness, ranging from mostly still conked out (Lia) to more or less alert (Yeji). All of you are human.

“They shot us with something,” Ryujin groans, uselessly trying to free her wrists.

You nod slowly. “Undoubtedly Chan’s work. He probably hired some of the earthen elves and their poison darts.” Your lips curl into a snarl. “Someone needs to get out of here and find Minho.”

“Right.” Chaeryeong fixes her gaze on you. “Let’s get you out.”

“No.” You shake your head. “Not me.”

Five pairs of eyes stare at you. “Why?” Yuna finally asks.

“I can’t be killed yet.” You grimly indicate the necklace against your throat. “I have one day left. If I go, Chan has no reason to keep the rest of you alive. If I stay, he does.”

“You know we would all die for you.” Yeji’s gaze, uncharacteristically serious, pins you down. The weight of her words settles on your shoulders.

“And I, you. But this isn’t the time for any of us to die.” You spit a piece of hair out of your mouth. “One of you needs to get out and alert Minho.” Your gaze turns to Lia. “You have the best sense of direction and you’re small enough to fit through that window in the corner.”

“Y/N –”

“No questions.” Steely-eyed, you stare each maiden down. “If you argue, I will command you. As your queen.”

That settles it. The four of you struggle to undo the bonds on Lia’s wrists, rubbing a rusty nail against the ropes until she’s free. She quickly tosses the rope out of the window and with a final look in your direction, she jumps out too.

You barely have enough time for a sigh of relief before the door slams open.

. . .

Minho paces his room, already fitted into his suit and crown. There’s no chance he can escape tonight – the suit will immediately give him away.

But tonight, he isn’t supposed to escape. He’s supposed to wait. For you.

The small clock in his room ticks again. He forces himself not to look – he’s been doing that for the past few hours.

You promised to send someone. So why hasn’t anyone come? Are you in trouble? Did Chan appear?

What if you’re dead?

No.

Minho shakes his head firmly. Your necklace will protect you until midnight. Chan couldn’t have killed you yet. Maybe you got sidetracked. It’s entirely possible.

Still, he wishes you would hurry.

. . .

With a final scream, your weak shield shatters. You hang your head, refusing to let Chan see the tears dripping down your cheeks.

It’s humiliating. When you turned to swans at dawn, he threw you all into cages. When you turned human again, he tied you up. You never had much pride to begin with, but it feels like half of anything you had left is gone.

You’ve failed. You can’t even keep up a simple shield to save your friends. With your hands newly tied with ropes imbued with Chan’s spells, you’re helpless against him.

Your cousin only laughs. “Pitiful.” You can hear the sneer in his voice. “I can’t understand why my father ever chose you over me.” He shakes his head, blond curls falling into his eyes. Tiredly, you think what a handsome and good man he could’ve been had he not fallen to the darkness.

“Have you ever heard that those who desire power the most are the ones who deserve it the least?” You blink the last of the tears from your eyes and look up at the person you hate the most in this world.

Chan’s eyes darken into something maniacal, something worse than evil. But despite the fear rushing through your blood, you refuse to look away.

“I deserve the forest far more than you ever did,” he snarls.

You brace yourself for the next hit and pray to the heavens that Lia made it.

. . .

Minho feels his heart dropping to his stomach as he gazes over the crowd. You’re not here. You haven’t sent any messages.

You’ve broken your promise.

Hyunjin side-eyes him. “Looking for someone?” he asks.

There’s no use hiding it. Minho nods.

Then the doors open at the top of the stairs. He looks up.

There, in a dress of pure white feathers, stands you. Your eyes catch his and you send him a shy smile.

Minho’s heart is about to beat out of his chest.

You’re here.

. . .

Lia swoops down into the palace gardens, bypassing the guards and their swords. The sun dips below the trees just as she takes shelter behind a large clump of bushes to transform.

She hopes that the dress her human form gives her is suitable for a ball.

Stealth has never been Lia’s best point, but she somehow manages to enter the palace without anyone seeing her. Once inside, she simply acts slightly wine drunk, allowing a tired guard to escort her into the ballroom.

But her sigh of relief is cut off when she realizes what’s happening at the center of the room.

Y/N?

She shakes her head. It can’t be her. How could Y/N be here, when she’s probably being tortured at this moment at Chan’s hideout?

This must be one of Chan’s tricks.

“Prince!” she screeches, shoving through the throng of people. “Prince! Prince Minho!”

He doesn’t hear her.

“PRINCE!” she screams, pushing the last person out of her way. Finally, he hears her and looks her way.

Lia’s heart drops. Something isn’t right. Minho’s eyes are slightly unfocused, and she’s never seen this dopey look on his face before. Not even after he kissed Y/N.

Enchanted.

“Lia?” Some of the dopiness melts away, replaced with confusion. “Why…?”

“Prince.” She stalks forward. “This is not Y/N. Chan sent this person as a fake. Changed their appearance. Made an illusion. I don’t know. She’s not Y/N because Y/N is being held this very minute in Chan’s hideout and you need to come with me now.”

The dopey, unfocused look comes back to Minho’s eyes. “But Y/N is right here?”

“Yes, I’m right here.” The look that the poser sends Lia is perfectly innocent, perfectly delicate, perfectly calculated.

It has to be an illusion. No human is that perfect. Least of all Y/N.

“Minho, listen to me.” A crowd has formed, but no one’s tried to stop her yet so she plows on. “This is not your real Y/N. Look at her face. Look at her eyes. She may look like Y/N but she’s an illusion. Wake up, Prince!”

The prince looks between Lia and the poser, confusion and doubt flitting over his face. Then someone grabs her arm from behind.

“I’m sorry, Your Highness. I will take her away,” a guard says over her shoulder. But Lia takes no notice, attention fixated on the dagger at the guard’s side.

She draws the blade with her free arm and the guard shouts, immediately letting her go. Ignoring the cries of fear, she aims.

“Watch, Prince.”

The dagger sails through the air right into the illusion’s chest.

Screams echo throughout the ballroom but no blood flows. The poser’s face registers shock, then blankness as her body dissolves into the air. The dagger clatters to the floor.

All the confusion clears from the prince’s eyes. His skin turns white. “Two horses,” he snaps at a shell-shocked guard. Then he turns to Lia. “Please take me to Y/N. Immediately.”

. . .

The clock in Chan’s room reads a quarter to twelve. At least, that’s what you think it reads. It’s hard to see through the sweat and blood dripping into your eyes.

Fifteen minutes or less. That’s all you have. The hope that Lia will come back starts to fade away.

“Why don’t you just kill me now, cousin?” You spit blood out of your mouth, wishing your friends were still here to bolster your confidence. Chan threw them back into the room after they made too loud a ruckus. But the sounds of them still banging against the door give you a little more strength.

Chan smiles easily, sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of you. It’s almost like you two are children again, sitting across from each other and playing games.

Then another drop of sweat stings in your eye and you get rid of any illusions of childhood.

“Oh, Y/N, you always knew I was bad with human weapons.” He laughs coldly. “And they’re all made of iron, you know? Wouldn’t want to burn myself.”

You spit in his face. “If you can’t kill me from this short range with a human weapon, I don’t know if you’re really strong enough to be a king. And I’m sure you could come up with a spell to protect your precious skin, if you’re as capable and powerful as you say.”

“Yet another reason why you shouldn’t rule,” Chan tuts, carelessly wiping away your bloodied spit. He hooks a hand under your chin, pulling your face closer. He tuts again, mockingly. “You were always the snippier one of us two.”

“Get off me!” You wrench your face away from his grasp. The lingering feeling of his hand on your chin makes your skin crawl.

“As you wish.” He smirks. “But as such, I think I’ll stick with watching you die slowly. It’s what you deserve, isn’t it? A human weapon wouldn’t provide as much pain. And who knows?” His grin grows wider. “Maybe, come dawn, I’ll make swan soup and feed it to the dogs.”

Fury blinds your vision and you open your mouth to scream –

And then the door bursts open.

. . .

The shock that blinds Minho at the sight of your bloodied figure nearly kills him. Literally. Had Lia not pulled him away, the blast of light would have killed him.

“Come to join the party?” Chan asks, looking as unruffled and terrifying as ever. He glances at a clock in the corner. “You have seven minutes left to say goodbye to your precious queen.”

Enraged, Minho draws a dagger from his belt and sends it flying at Chan. He doesn’t even blink an eye – with a flick of his hand, the blade dissolves into the air in front of him.

“I knew there was one of you missing.” Chan casts a disdainful look at Lia. “No matter.” He fixes his gaze on Minho. “So you figured out my little illusion, didn’t you? You should’ve stayed with her. The real thing isn’t as pretty, is she?” He jerks his head at you.

Rage fills Minho’s vision and he nearly leaps at Chan. But your voice cuts in.

“Stop.”

All the attention turns back to you.

You spit blood out of your mouth. “Isn’t your fight with me, Chan?” A ghost of a smile plays on your lips. “Why don’t you release these bonds and have us a fair battle?”

Minho wants to scream for you to shut up.

“A good suggestion, dear Y/N.” Chan pretends to think, then shakes his head. “But I’d prefer to watch you break first.”

“No showing of skill? No proving you are fit to rule?” Your eyes flit to the clock and Minho looks too, against his will.

Two minutes.

Chan grins, but Minho can see the repressed anger in his eyes. “I already know I am fit to rule.”

“Then are you afraid that I will find my strength and kill you first?” You tsk. “Coward.”

“What you call cowardice is what I call a strategy.” The smile turns animalistic as Chan directs it at him. “Say goodbye to your lover, dear cousin.”

A flash of light burns out of Chan’s palm, directed straight at Minho’s chest.

. . .

Chan has never seen anyone move so quickly. Much less if they were bound by magic ropes.

His magic ropes. The ropes imbued with the strength of every creature he’s killed.

And you…

You broke them.

His eyes widen as he takes in your outstretched hands, free of bindings, creating a shield. A shield that glows with more power than he’s ever seen you conjure.

The light fizzles from his palm. And as your darkened, furious eyes lock with Chan’s, he feels an unfamiliar emotion. So unfamiliar that he’s almost forgotten its name.

As the clock behind him chimes the hour, Chan does not gloat. Chan does not laugh.

For the first time in years, Chan feels fear.

. . .

How did I do that?

You stare at your outstretched hands and the shield of light they’ve created. Ragged breaths leave your lips but to your surprise, you don’t feel tired. There is no exhaustion. If anything, you feel exhilarated.

The clock chimes. Midnight.

You lock eyes with your cousin. For once, he seems to have nothing to say.

“Anything to say, Chan?” you snarl. You kick one of the torn ropes at your feet and he flinches. “Anything at all?”

“… How?” he finally whispers.

For a moment, you find yourself wondering the same thing. How could you have done this? How did you break from Chan’s bonds? How did you manage to surpass his power?

Your uncle’s words echo through your mind.

“You have an ability that Chan does not. For this reason, you are more powerful than Chan will ever be. But you must unlock that power yourself.”

And suddenly, you understand. You understand how you moved so quickly that first day you protected Minho. You understand how you withstood Chan’s torture for so long while waiting for Lia. You understand the magic your uncle left in the gem that rests against your throat.

You understand the magic that led you to break Chan’s bonds and protect the people you love the most in the world.

“My uncle – your father – once told me I had an ability you do not. And because of that, he told me I had more power than you would ever have.” Your words are slow, calculated, but for once, there is no race against time. There are five hours until dawn – plenty of time before your final transformation.

And with a little luck, that transformation will never happen.

“That day, he gave me this necklace to protect me.” You grasp the gem around your neck. “He told me it had a magic in it as old as time, and that you would never be able to overcome it before my twenty-first birthday. So I suppose it no longer works.” Slowly, you unclasp the chain from your neck, clutching the gem in your hand. “But I don’t suppose I need it anymore.”

No one speaks.

“How, you ask?” You step forward, and for once, Chan steps back. “I’ve found my power. It is a power far older, far stronger than your dark arts. Would you like to hear about it?”

Chan swallows, attempting a look of defiance. You wish you could tell him how stupid it looks.

“It is a magic as vast as the stars,” you whisper. “It is a magic as old as time. It is the power to feel a heartbeat from across the room. It is the power to speak volumes without a sound, without a word.”

You step forward.

“It is the power to protect.”

Another step.

“It is the power to love.”

As you stare into his eyes, real fear flashes over Chan’s face. But you take no pleasure in it, only feel sorrow that your cousin will never be able to feel as deeply as you.

In a movement as smooth as water, you grasp Chan’s arm with a strength you never thought you had. Your other hand presses against his chest.

“I’m sorry, cousin.”

Your power drives deep into his heart.

. . . . .

Minho’s parents were unsure of the union at first, especially since they found you in the same sorry state that Chan’s torture left you. But Minho had refused to let you return to the forest and practically forced you and your maidens into the castle to help you clean up and heal. Upon your request, he brought Jisung, Jeongin, and Seungmin over as well. Once the tattered dress of feathers was gone, your cuts and scrapes cleaned, and Minho had informed them of your magic and your status as queen, his parents became more receptive.

You sit in the front row at Minho’s coronation, your former swan maidens at your side. Pride fills your heart as you watch the priest crown your love, hand him the royal sword and scepter, and repeat the oath his father took so many years prior.

That day, you don’t dance with him, as per the doctor’s orders. But Minho stays by your side throughout the ensuing ball, only leaving for several ceremonial dances that he pouts the whole way through. But, as you remind him, “there will be many more dances together after we marry.”

And marry you do. All of your forest friends come to the ceremony, watch you walk down the aisle in a white gown devoid of feathers to recite your vows to the king.

(Jisung, Felix, Jeongin, and the girls all openly cry into each other’s arms. Seungmin, Changbin, and Hyunjin refuse to admit their tears but everyone can see through them anyway.)

The kiss that day is like your first, minus the sadness. Your hands cup his face while his rest lightly against your waist. Minho’s lips press against yours with a gentle insistence that you eagerly give in to, his fingers brushing softly against the fabric of your dress.

The festivities last until midnight, when you’re finally allowed to retire to your room in the palace. Minho finds you on the balcony, staring down at the throngs of celebrating citizens.

Weeks ago, you were terrified of turning twenty-one. You were terrified of the inevitable change and the inevitable death sentence that age would bring.

Now, you think that turning twenty-one wasn’t the worst thing you’ve done in your life.

“What are you thinking of, my swan?” Minho presses a kiss against your neck.

You smile. “Just… I don’t know. Turning twenty-one seemed so terrifying a few weeks ago. Now...”

“Ah.” Minho nods. “You know, I dreaded that age too.”

“No kidding.” You raise an eyebrow.

“I was terrified of losing my freedom, of being forced to marry someone I didn’t love and being forced to stay with them for the rest of my life.” Minho squeezes your hand. “But you know, it doesn’t seem too bad now.”

A snort bursts from your lips. “That’s an understatement,” you laugh, turning back to the scene beyond the balcony. There’s a little silence.

“What are you thinking of now?” Minho whispers.

The smile on your face grows wider. “The day we first met.”

“Oh, yes.” Minho turns you around to face him again. “I think I knew then and there that I was going to fall in love with you, you know.”

Shyly, you look down. “I think I knew too.”

He tilts your chin back up and presses a light kiss on your lips. “I love you, Y/N.”

One hand reaches up to rub the gem resting at your throat. Your uncle’s necklace still sparkles around your neck as a reminder of the duties you still have in the forest, but also as a reminder of the immense power he always knew you had. The power of that single, simple word.

Love.

You smile, dropping the gem to rest your arms around Minho’s neck. He smiles down at you with passion in his eyes and happiness on his lips.

“I love you too.”