#there's no indication either of them are going to a sanctuary yet but who knows

[orcinus-veterinarius]

You know I'm not a huge fan of the Whale Sanctuary Project, but if it comes down to either them or Sea Shepherd (the ecoterrorist organization who wants to build an orca sanctuary in the Mediterranean) getting Wikie and Keijo, then I'll go out to bat for the WSP.

[wishesofeternity]

“Warwick launched his final bid at kingmaking, this time in alliance with Margaret of Anjou to restore Henry VI. He and Clarence landed in Devon while the King was in Yorkshire. Elizabeth (Woodville)’s initial reaction was to prepare for a siege in the Tower of London where she had already retired in expectation of the imminent birth of another child. But on 1 October news reached the capital that the King was preparing to set sail from Bishop’s Lynn, abandoning his kingdom. With no hope of imminent rescue, Elizabeth moved swiftly into the Sanctuary of Westminster Abbey with her mother and her daughters. She sent Abbot Thomas Millyng to advise the Mayor and Aldermen that she was surrendering the Tower, and consequently Henry VI, into their custody.

- J.L Laynesmith,  “Elizabeth Woodville: The Knight’s Widow” in “Later Plantagenet and Wars of the Roses Consorts” / “The Last Medieval Queens, English Queenship 1445-1503″

"Elizabeth (Woodville) at first fortified the Tower of London against the approaching Lancastrians, but then decided instead to hand over custody of the Tower to the mayor and aldermen of London while she went into sanctuary at Westminster Abbey. It was a move which not only protected her daughters, who were with her, but also saved London from attack, which perhaps explains some of the praise she later received. The author of 'The Historic of the Arrival of Edward IV, who claimed to have witnessed much of what he recorded, stressed

the right great trowble, sorow, and hevines, whiche [the queen] sustayned with all manar pacience that belonged to eny creature, and as constantly as hathe bene sene at any tyme any of so highe estate to endure; in the whiche season natheles she had browght into this worldc, to the Kyngs grcatystc joy, a fayrc son.

...When Edward (IV) arrived, there was a scene of family bliss, in which the queen's vulnerability and domesticity could be contrasted with his heroism.  The king was thus presented in an unusually human guise, which might appeal to readers familiar with such partings themselves throughout the civil wars:

The king comfortid the quene, and other ladyes ckc;  His swete babis ful tendurly he did kys;  The yonge prynce he behelde, and in his armys did bere. Thus his bale turnyd hym to blis.

[stoat-party]

Fallout 4: Where is the Lone Wanderer?*

*a vague conspiracy theory which doesn’t actually answer the question at hand. We all have our own ideas of how the lore should go, and I’m sure yours is very canon-compliant and valid, but this is mine and I have support for it. Looooongpost.

First off: What do we know about the canon Wanderer?

We know they activated Project Purity (or had a companion do it) without the FEV and were inducted into the Brotherhood. We know they’ve met with MacCready (you can’t finish the game if you don’t), and he has dialogue indicating they had further contact. They also took the Brotherhood’s side at Adams Air Force Base.

We don’t know what happened with The Replicated Man, but since the canon Wanderer appears to have good karma, and info from 4 implies Zimmer’s disappearance was more recent than ten years ago, it seems likely they took the boring ending, which secures their membership in the Railroad.

Why aren’t they in Fallout 4?

The Doylist answer is that they’re highly customizable, and so they have no canon appearance, personality, gender, etc. But in-universe? Something happened.

“Accepting outsiders like yourself has proven disastrous in the past.” - Kells

“I've seen other soldiers come and go. Some were brave, some were honest... hell, some were even downright heroic.” - Danse

“Every doctor I've talked to was worthless. [] I don't need them... I need someone like you.” - MacCready

When Duncan first got sick, “someone like you” would have meant the Wanderer. This suggests (to me) that they’re not in the Capital Wasteland anymore. But they’re certainly not in the Commonwealth either.

The weird thing is that the Lone Wanderer is all over this game - they’re the namesake for a male hairstyle, a perk, a DCR song, a motorcycle brand… and the codename of Deacon’s mission to save the Railroad from certain destruction by recruiting the Sole Survivor.

Someday We’ll Find It, the Deacon Connection

Oh yeah, I’m going here. Desdemona’s terminal entries confirm it was always Deacon’s plan to get you onboard and use you to destroy the Institute. There are Railroad lookout posts near 111/Sanctuary and Red Rocket, and of course he followed you in Goodneighbor, Diamond City, and Bunker Hill (at least). His court jester vibe hides it a bit, but he’s manipulating you more than he’s manipulating Desdemona in the intro scene. And do you notice he rarely gives you a firm verbal disapproval unless you’re hurting the Railroad?

What could have caused Deacon’s interest in you, unless he’s made the connection between you and the Lone Wanderer? He’ll vouch for you if you haven’t accomplished anything yet, or even if you’re a Brotherhood member. A Pip-Boyed stranger emerges from a vault in the middle of a crisis, gaining friends, skills, items, and special abilities at a suspicious rate? Probably with the same gender and playstyle as the previous one? Heck, when he first heard the rumors, he probably thought you WERE the Lone Wanderer.

There are other indications the Railroad has been in contact with them — Desdemona mentions the Capital Wasteland as their primary destination for synths, and Deacon references Harkness’s recall code. If you refuse to pick a codename, Desdemona even assigns you “Wanderer.”

So what happened, then?

I think the answer lies with the Brotherhood, specifically in Deacon’s hatred of them. Sure, ideology is enough to hate them for, but Deacon sure seems suspiciously happy if you nuke their base of operations. (Some of) his comments on that:

“The Brotherhood... well, I met them on an op in Capital Wasteland a few years back. But now with Elder Maxson... Let's just say, not a fan.”

“That bastard Maxson really screwed them up. The Brotherhood used to be the good guys. Well, goodish.”

[Who’s Elder Maxson?] “He’s a piece of work, is what he is.”

And on his time in the Capital:

“Did I ever tell you about the time I was in Capital Wasteland? Now there's a tale.”

“Capital Wasteland. Exports: purified water, some decent tech, oh, and an insane suicidal cult that worships radiation. Thanks, guys.”

“I miss Capital Wasteland. You can actually drink the water there.”

And a few lines I’ve decided (with no evidence) directly refer to LW:

“Last partner I had wound up going... well, a little insane. I think it was all my show tune medleys.”

[After Maxson orders you to hunt Danse down] “See? This is what the Brotherhood's really about.”

And my favorite: “I’ve been looking forward to kicking the Brotherhood’s teeth in. I owe them.” This line comes before Glory is killed, so he’s not referring to that. The Brotherhood only recently arrived in force in the Commonwealth. He’s talking about something that happened in the Capital Wasteland.

So Here’s What Might Have Happened:

In early 2286, Deacon moves to the Capitol Wasteland for awhile, probably to get a face change and lay low for a bit. He contacts the Lone Wanderer, who has barely heard from the Railroad in nine years. They begin to work together.

(In context, this journal entry looks like he’s somehow gathering intel to predict when Vault 111 will open, but I can’t think of a way for him to get that information or know why it’s important, so I’m not going to believe it just yet.)

The Wanderer is still a knight, maybe a paladin. Maxson has been elder for 2-3 years and is monitoring the Institute. Meanwhile, the Lone Wanderer and Deacon are setting up infrastructure to receive escaped synths.

And then the Brotherhood finds out about one of the safehouses. With their limited understanding, they believe that the Institute is holed up there and attack. The Wanderer intentionally throws the mission — maybe disobeys orders, maybe downs a vertibird or collapses a subway tunnel, or maybe even attacks their brothers to protect the synths.

And, well-

Either they were killed, or they escaped court martial and execution by a hair’s breadth and fled the Capital, leaving Deacon to believe Maxson had them killed.

There you have it. That’s why they aren’t in Brotherhood dialogue or records. Their accomplishments couldn’t be recognized because they’re a traitor. And that’s why it’s personal for Deacon.

[lofious]

Sun and Moon x OC! Animatronic

The OC is going to be an animatronic based on a butterfly, specifically Morpho (I searched that up on google shush) and that you got robotic butterflies fluttering around you (Kinda like Minireenas with Ballora) Also, check at the ending to see what the numbers in the HC are for. I still don’t got a name for the OC help-

Hope y’all enjoy the HC! I swear I put a bit of effort into this.

- Sun is always excited to see you when you and your robotic butterflies visits him

- it got to the point where you or him visit each other everyday that the workers can’t separate the two of you

- on some special events by the PizzaPlex, both of you get a collab together which gets the most visited by children in his Daycare because of how not only they’re meeting Sun, they’re also meeting you with your butterflies

- One time: a kid asked you both if you two were “married” which got both of you to short circuited, only for you to step in seconds later that you tell the kid that both of you are not married while Sun is looking away, with his hands covering his permanent smile. Indicating he’s blushing (it might not be possible to his blush but shut up, let me have this once 😭)

- for special events of you two having a collab, there’s always going to be a mini game where children are divided by multiple groups and there are butterflies spread throughout the daycare. The goal is for a certain group to capture the most butterflies. Of course, Sun joins in one of the groups but he has a specific rule that if he catches a butterfly, he gets to have a 5 or 10 seconds cooldown so that he won’t caught most of the butterflies and that children can actually do most of the work. one time, that rule wasn’t applied that it got to him capturing most of your butterflies that you have to put him on the timeout corner

- In private moments, one of your butterflies decides to be mischievous by telling Sun on how you vent to your butterflies when your alone (1). You vent to them on how you miss Sun sm that you can’t wait to see him when the PizzaPlex is closed. Which gets you to blush in embarrassment and try to swat the mischievous butterfly away from Sun but it’s too late, he now knows and now he’s gonna keep teasing you about it.

- In Sun’s perspective, he finds you alluring. The way you get along with kids just like him, the way that your butterflies swarms around you looks so captivating. That he can’t help falling in love with you. He thought that you bewitch him with your beauty and tbh, he doesn’t mind that (i love him 🥺)

- Now, let’s get to Moon. Tbh, you didn’t know about him until you met Sun (2). When he finally met you, he knew you from Sun’s perspective (3) but he wanted to know you himself.

- Of course, you were a bit terrified to see Sun’s alternate self but your going to put your foot down and show Moon on who’s the boss.. until he grabbed one of your butterflies and jokingly threatened you by pulling both of its wings off. Of course, with you being close to your babies, you decided to not pursue him anymore by staying in place. Which gets Moon amused by your choice and lets it go?? Of course, once your butterfly was freed, it flies towards you and hides behind your back, afraid of what just happened.

- That got you to lower your guard down a bit towards him and now, you two have a… somewhat decent relationship with each other.

- When Moon patrols the PizzaPlex, he sometimes visit you either through your room or your sanctuary, depending on where you’re at.

1) I’m not so sure yet on how those robotic butterflies work. I thought of making them speak like Gemini from fairytail just by saying “Piri Piri” but with a more squeaky tone.

2) I might add a bit more context to that in a next HC but not 100% yet.

3) I HC that Moon can see Sun’s perspective considering they’re both the same robot but he can’t speak verbally unless the lights go out. He can speak to Sun internally tho.

[intheticklecloset]

One Tickle Too Many (My Hero Academia)

Primary Universe

Summary: See above.

A/N: I'm so glad this request came in, because I've wanted to do a fic of this type for Kaminari for a while anyway, so it worked out perfectly! Enjoy!

Word Count: 1,867

~~~

Kaminari didn’t know it was actually possible to be angry while laughing hysterically. If he’d been asked just a few minutes ago, he’d have said it was impossible.

Yet here he was.

“STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!!” He yelled through his mirth, his earlier irritation bubbling into something harsher and more fierce the longer this went on. Kirishima and Bakugou currently had him pinned down and were tickling his thighs and the undersides of his knees while Sero and Mina sat by and watched with big smiles on their faces. “GEHEHEHEHET OFF!! I’M SEHEHEHEHERIOUS!!”

“You sound serious, dunce face,” Bakugou laughed.

Denki bristled. He hadn’t even done anything worth this level of torture! They’d been discussing who their favorite characters in a new show they’d been watching together were, and when he’d voiced his (apparently unpopular) opinion, they’d started tickling him on his worst spots to try and convince him he was wrong, somehow. So not only was he irritated with them for declaring his opinion “incorrect,” but now they were torturing him into seeing things their way.

He’d had just about enough of this. He’d been laughing and screaming for them to stop for only half a minute when he remembered their new group safe word and he shouted, “REHEHEHEHED!!”

Surprised, Bakugou and Kiri stopped instantly, and Sero and Mina lost their smiles. Everyone suddenly looked worried, and that only made him angrier.

“Are you okay?” Mina asked him gently.

“You guys suck.” Denki spat the words out, shoving himself up to his feet and swiping at his eyes, humiliated by the first tear sliding down his cheek before he could hide it. He hadn’t even known he was about to cry. “Seriously. All of you suck. I’m out of here.”

All of them called his name to try and stop him, but Denki was out the door in a flash, bolting down the empty hall. He didn’t know where he was going – just that he wanted to get away. A minute later he found himself outside in the near-summer evening, panting and crying openly now, not even sure why he was so upset.

No, he did know. It was more than just his opinion being brushed aside. It was the tickle torture that followed. Because that’s what it was when his knees were targeted – torture. Every time he was tickled, that’s where he was attacked. Never once had he been able to experience light tickles that were only meant for smiles and giggles. He always had to be forced to scream for mercy. Why? Why couldn’t he get the kind of tickles he actually wanted?

By the time Sero found him outside, Denki had cried himself out and was leaning against the trunk of a tree, faced away from the dorms. He couldn’t bear to look at them, and he certainly couldn’t go back inside. The squad had been hanging out in his room. If he’d left his own room, what other sanctuary did he have?

“Hey,” Sero said gently, bringing him back to the present moment.

Denki swiped at his eyes again. “Hey. I’m…I’m sorry. You don’t suck. I was just—”

“Don’t apologize. Clearly we crossed a line in there.” Sero hesitated a moment. “Uh…can I join you?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Sero sat beside him, and they were silent for a moment. “Would you mind explaining why you got so upset? I’m not judging you or blaming you. I just want to know what happened.”

Denki surprised himself by replying immediately. “It was the tickle torture. Again. Always with the torture. I’m so sick of it.”

“Oh.” Sero frowned. “Do you not like being tickled? You should have said something before now.”

“I don’t like being tortured like that,” Denki said, hating how his voice wavered a little. “I’m never tickled just to be made to smile. I’m always being punished, or interrogated, or forced to admit something I don’t agree with. Like just now, when you all said I was wrong for liking my favorite character. How is it wrong? You have your favorites, I have mine. So what if we don’t all agree? That’s what makes us unique.”

Sero was stunned. Kaminari didn’t usually speak his thoughts so clearly like this. He must be upset. “You’re right,” he said quickly. “I think they were just trying to be playful, but I can definitely see where you’re coming from.”

Denki buried his head in his arms. “Thank god for safe words.”

That comment hit Sero hard. He frowned, feeling upset himself on his friend’s behalf. If they hadn’t established a safe word, who knows how much worse this could have become?

“Let’s go back inside,” Sero said. “We all left your room right after you. It didn’t feel right without you in it.”

“Then where did everyone go?”

“To the foyer. The others are in the living room waiting.” When Denki didn’t move, Sero added, “You don’t have to talk to them now if you’re not up for it. I’ll wave them off and you can face them when you’re ready to. But I do think you should come back inside. It’s late, and if nothing else you’ll have to sleep soon.”

Kaminari let out a sigh, then got to his feet, Sero following his lead. “No, I’ll talk to them now. I’d rather resolve this before going to bed.”

Sero nodded. Together they walked back inside the dorms, and sure enough, Bakugou, Kirishima, and Mina were all on their feet in the living room, watching him.

Kiri opened his mouth to speak, but Sero held up a hand and nodded at Denki, indicating he should be the one to talk first. After a moment, the blonde found his words.

“You don’t suck,” he began, shifting on his feet. “I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry. But I…I wish you wouldn’t torture me all the time. Especially over something that’s not worth it.”

Mina asked, “Your favorite character?”

“Yeah. Who gives a crap if I like someone you don’t? It would be boring if we all liked the same person. And either way, it wasn’t worth trying to force me to change my mind. I feel like my opinion just didn’t matter to you guys. Like, you declared I was wrong and that was the end of it.”

“We don’t care if you like that character or not,” Bakugou muttered, crossing his arms. “It was an excuse to mess with you, that’s all.”

“By torturing me?” Denki asked, his voice wavering again. “Why do I always have to be made to beg? Why can’t you ever tickle me just to see me smile? That’s the kind of tickling I really want. Not the screaming, crying, gasping-for-air kind. I just want to giggle and be happy.”

Silence fell over the five of them. It took Denki a moment to realize he’d actually admitted that out loud. He cringed, looking away.

“You want soft tickles?” Mina asked. “Aww, sparky, why didn’t you say so before?”

“Because admitting I want it is embarrassing.”

Bakugou scoffed. “You think I wasn’t embarrassed to death coming back to you guys after you scared me so bad? If I can admit I like being tickled, you most definitely can, dunce.” All eyes turned to the angry blonde, who flushed red and yelled, “What?! You all know it’s true! Don’t make this about me. If he wants to be tickled then let’s tickle him the way he likes. That’s what we do, right?”

Kiri beamed at Bakugou, then turned his attention to Denki. “Hey. We’re sorry for being so rough all the time. We didn’t know you really hated it. And you’re right, it wasn’t worth it today. Can we make it up to you now?”

Kaminari blinked, suddenly feeling flustered and shy. He glanced between Mina and Kiri and Bakugou, then to Sero at his side. “R-Really? After I just threw a big fit about it?”

“You weren’t throwing a fit. You were just telling us how you feel. There’s nothing wrong with that.” Mina smiled at him, then waved him over to the biggest couch, where all five of them could fit if they tried. “Come on. If you want to, we’ll tickle you exactly how you want us to right here, right now.”

Denki could feel the heat of his blush on his cheeks, but he moved to the couch and sat down anyway, his heart racing as his friends all took their places on either side of him, with Bakugou standing behind the couch and Sero kneeling on the floor in front of him.

“Whenever you’re ready, man,” Kiri said. “Just say the word.”

“R-Ready,” Denki managed.

Mina and Kiri gently poked up and down his torso, squeezing every now and then to keep him on his toes, and Sero lightly traced his fingers across his kneecaps, never straying to the ultra-sensitive undersides.

Kami curled up instinctively, sputtering out a few embarrassed giggles. “I d-dohohohon’t deserve thihihihihis…”

“Don’t say that!” Mina admonished gently, wiggling a finger in his underarm and making him clamp his arm down, trapping her there. “After all the times we’ve tickled you into almost blowing a fuse without realizing you really hated it, you definitely deserve to get the kind of tickling you actually want.”

“I dohohohon’t h-hahate it…I j-just…” Denki let out a squeak and scrunched up his shoulders when Bakugou joined in, scribbling against his neck and ears. “I juhuhuhuhust don’t wahahahant it ehehehevery single time, thahahat’s all. I wahahant a breheheheak.”

Kiri found his bottom ribs and dug in a little, smiling when the blonde’s giggles grew a little louder. Then he quickly retracted and went back to light tracing. “Should we say tickle torture is off the table for you for a while? Light tickles only?”

Kaminari was now learning that it was impossible to be emotional and giggly at the same time. He was discovering a lot of things tonight. “Just fohohohohor a lihihihittle while. I’d l-lihihihihike to be sahahahafe from t-tickle tohohohorture for now.”

“Got it. Let’s all agree we won’t torture Kaminari again until he says he’s ready. Okay?”

Everyone agreed immediately – even Bakugou. Still, the atomic blonde reached down and took Denki’s wrists. “In the meantime, can I hold these out of the way so you can enjoy your giggle-fest?”

Kaminari blushed all the way down his neck at those words, but he nodded anyway, and the next thing he knew his torso was completely unprotected, and Kiri and Mina were scribbling away, pulling soft giggles and gentle squirming out of him. He barely even noticed Sero’s touch on his knees, which was just one more amazement to add to the list of amazing things happening in the last half hour.

“Y-You dohohohohon’t suck,” he said again, this time through happy cackles. “You’re the b-behehehehest friehehends I could ehehehever ask for.”

“Awww,” chorused Mina, Sero, and Kiri, and they all reached to hug him while still tickling softly. Denki squeaked, flustered and still slightly embarrassed, but mostly feeling really, really loved. He didn’t even resist Bakugou’s hold on his wrists. For the first time ever, he happily submitted to the ticklish feelings and allowed himself to giggle the night away.

[stillebesat]

Code: Blanket (part 2)

Sanders Sides: Logan, Remus, Virgil, Janus, Patton Fic Type: Hurt/Comfort Prompt: “If you don’t know where to go, you can always come here.” with Anxceit? (platonic is 100% good for me) Blurb: A friendship doesn’t stop just because one person decides to act like a dick. Especially when said dick is obviously in trouble. Overall Fic Warnings: Homophobia talk, Neglectful/Abusive Parents implication, Capitol Riot references, Injuries Taglist in Reblog

Part 1

“Your son is sneaking out.”

If the weight of his husband settling on top of him in the bed hadn’t been enough to fully wake Logan from sleep, the gleeful tone of Remus’s voice in his ear and the words he spoke were certainly enough to do so.

He tilted his head to the side, squinting up at his husband’s shadowy figure looming over him, ignoring how his heart had jumped into his throat, leaving an aching cavity in his chest. “If our son is sneaking out after dark, Sir Night Owl.” He said, working to sound calmer than he actually felt. “Then that’s obviously your influence at work and your problem.”

Remus gave a low chuckle, kissing his cheek. “Lion Kinging me, Messire Early Bird? Fair enough. I accept.” He shifted to roll off the bed, only to pause as Logan grabbed his hand.

“Virgil’s never snuck out before.” He whispered, flinching as he heard the front door close. Why would his son feel the need to do--sure teenagers were known to be rebellious, but he’d been clear that Virgil could talk to him about anything, anytime. To have him just suddenly leave without a word to them, without any indication that anything was wrong--

Remus squeezed his hand. “I heard him say ‘The offer still stands, D.’ as he walked by our door, sooo~ secret relationship?”

Logan pushed up onto one elbow, breath catching. “You heard him say Dee?” He demanded. “You’re certain?” He hadn’t known the two were still in communication. The end of their lifelong friendship last year had been...volatile. Virgil had been miserable for months afterwards.

“Yes?” His husband tilted his head. “You know them?”

Logan nodded, rolling over so he could grab his glasses from the night stand. “So do you. It’s Janus. Son of the Daemons.”

Remus stiffened, hissing like a broken teapot. “What offer could Virgiepoo possibly make to that horrible family of--”

“They were childhood friends.” Logan interrupted his husband before he went off on yet another long winded swearing spree about the Daemons. “Janus didn’t always approve of his parents...antics.”

Remus snorted, pulling Logan to his feet. “Antics? Those Ultra Christian Karens on Manbaby Cheeto Horse Steroids nearly cost both of us our jobs because they couldn’t stand the thought of their son knowing two gay men.”

Logan smirked, shrugging on a robe, placing his phone in the pocket just in case Virgil called. “And how did that turn out? With them facing the best lawyer in the country?”

Remus leaned in for a kiss. “Not good.” He breathed against his lips.

“Exactly.”

“Soo…” Still clad in only his boxers, Remus entwined his fingers in Logan’s, pulling him out of their bedroom towards the front door. “Son of our Enemy. Virgil sneaking out in the middle of the night to see him. What exactly is this offer that he’s offering to the Villains who aimed to destroy our happily ever after?”

An offer that Logan had believed had been firmly taken off the table over a year ago. “Simply put. Sanctuary.”

Which begged the question. What had happened in the Daemon household to convince Virgil to offer their home, after everything the two families had gone through, to their son once more?

“Sanctuary.” Remus repeated like it was a foreign word. “To one of their spawn? Are you serious?”

Knowing how much of a giving and forgiving heart his son had? Logan pulled open the front door, unsurprised to see the two teens standing frozen on the porch.

He had good timing like that.

“Boys.” Logan greeted, attention drawn immediately to Janus as he tried to hide behind his son only to be stopped by Virgil’s tight grip on his arm.

Janus swallowed, a tremor visibly going through him as met Logan’s eyes. “Mr. L.” He whispered, the porchlight throwing his face, and therefore, the stark purple bruise and cuts by his eye into sharp relief.

Sanctuary. He could now totally understand why Virgil had chosen to reach out.

The crumpled state of the boy’s clothes, the mask -an unusual accessory for the known anti-masker, anti-vaxxer family- the greasy hair, all of the obvious signs of neglect, Logan mentally catalogued as he immediately reached out, drawing the boy closer to him. “Janus.” He breathed, hating how the boy flinched at his movement, how he trembled under his touch even as he leaned into Logan’s hand as he cupped the boy’s uninjured cheek. “What happened?”

“Well, I hope what’s happening is that we’re kidnapping the demon spawn for ranso--” Remus cut off, inhaling sharply as he too caught sight of the facial disfigurement. “Lo, lemme see that.” He demanded, gently pushing him to the side so he could take the boy’s chin into his hands, tilting his head this way and that in the porch light.

Virgil relaxed, even as Janus visibly tensed, trembling under Remus’s scrutiny.

For good reason. The young Daemon had to feel like he was stepping into the Lion’s den by coming here.

“It’s okay, Dee. Remus is a surgeon. The best. You’re in safe hands.” Virgil said softly, keeping a firm grip on his friend’s arm as the boy shifted his feet like he was debating about turning tail and running.

Something he’d never thought Janus would do. The boy took after his parents in being willing to face confrontation head on, no matter the odds.

Something definitely was wrong here.

“What happened?” Logan repeated, unable to hide the concern in his voice.

Janus’s eyes flickered between him and Remus, breath hitching as he opened his mouth. “I--I--”

Remus growled, eyes flashing as he turned to Logan, gesturing wildly with his free hand. “What happened?! He’s lucky the wound isn’t infected, Lo! It’s obvious it’s been untreated. Obvious that he’s been neglected, mistreated, abused!”

Janus flinched at every word. “Yes.” The word ghosted over his lips, barely heard.

Virgil shook his head, eyes burning with quiet fury. “It’s worse.” He slipped his phone out of his pocket, tapping on the screen and flipping it so Logan could see the tweet there. “His parents locked him in their unfinished attic for FOUR months, Dad. And then they left him to go harring off to D.C. to storm the Capitol!”

They…WHAT?!

Logan saw red as Remus swore, his husband pulling Janus into a tight hug, the boy letting out a startled squeak at the action. “I changed my mind, Lo. We’re not kidnapping him, we’re adopting. Surprise, my little rebel. You’re mine now.”

Janus’s eyes went wide, shimmering with unshed tears as he stood stiffly in Remus’s grip, fingers twitching. “Y-yours?” He whispered, in such a small voice that had Logan wrapping an arm around the boy’s shoulders as well. “I--I--but I’m---I’m--”

There’d been a time he’d considered Janus almost like a second son with how often he and Virgil had hung out at their house as kids. Logan wasn’t at all opposed to rediscovering that sentimeint.

“It doesn’t matter.” He whispered in the boy’s ear. “You have a home here, Janus, for as long as you need one.”

The boy shuddered in their hold, breath hitching as he bowed his head, not quite resting it against Remus’s bare chest. “I--I tried to---I couldn’t get out! I tried everything to bre--to break free and then they just….left me. Their SON. They--” He broke off as Remus pulled him closer, a soft sob escaping as his husband carded his fingers through the boy’s hair.

“It’s okay, Janny-boy.” Remus whispered. “You did what you could with what you had.”

Janus shook his head. “I--i should have---sooner. I couldn’t--I didn’t think they’d actually!! My own parents.”

Virgil pressed in on the group hug, gently freeing the face mask from the boy’s ear. “Dee. You couldn’t have known.”

“I SHOULD have though!” He growled, twisting his head to stare at Virgil, cheeks streaked with tears. “We’ve been friends for years, Annie! I KNOW you and Mr. L. and...and…but when things,” His eyes flickered to Remus and back. “Changed. The pandemic and everything---I didn’t...I sided with them and thought they had to be RIGHT this time, but then things...stuff happened and THEY LOCKED ME UP and treated me like I was A NUT CASE when I--I--” His voice dropped to a near whisper. “They wouldn’t listen to me.”

Logan exhaled, squeezing the boy’s shoulder as he met his husband’s furious eyes. “I’m sorry, Janus.” He said, keeping his tone soft. “Your parents have had their...good...qualities at times,”

Remus snorted, but kept silent as Logan shot him another look.

“And I know...they’ve only tried to protect you from their perceived evils in the world, but Janus.” He shifted his position so he could cradle the boy’s injured cheek. “What they did to you was wrong. So very wrong.” And bound to be worse when the whole story was told. “It’s monstrous that they chose to treat their own flesh and blood in such an abhorrent and inhumane manner just because you disagreed with them and I will not stand for it. You deserve better and you will be treated much better here than you have been there. I promise you that.”

Janus abruptly twisted in Remus’s arms to cling to Logan, resting his head against Logan’s chest, fingers digging into the folds of his robe, his thin body shaking with sobs. “Don’t make me go back.” He whispered.

Logan shook his head, pressing a firm kiss against the boy’s greasy hair. “Never.”

“I won’t let him.” Remus added, a growl in his voice. “I’ve adopted you, Jan. My word is law. No take backsies.”

Janus looked between the three of them, before focusing on Remus, licking his lips. “But. You...don’t know me--”

“You don’t know me either, kiddo. But no worries. We’ll fix all that.” His husband winked as he gathered both Virgil and Janus under each arm, letting Logan take a careful step back. “But FIRST.” He pointed a finger at the boy’s eye. “I’m getting you clean and stitched up while Logie here makes a little call to his Work Wife to figure things out. With luck, and I am rather lucky, there’ll barely be a scar when I’m done.”

Janus stiffened, glancing over his shoulder to Logan. “Work Wife?!”

Virgil chuckled, twisting Janus’s mask in his fingers. “Not an actual wife, Dee. Dad has a fellow lawyer friend.”

“Rival.” Logan corrected.

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Rival that he constantly works with, so Rem calls him his work wife since he’s usually either with him or us.”

That wasn’t exactly true. He did go to other places and work with other people that weren’t Patton or his family. It just so happened that Patton ended up involved in a lot of the same sort of cases as him and so collaboration made more sense than going it alone.

Logan pulled out his phone, scrolling through his contacts. “Needless to say. I’ll take care of it, Janus. You can trust me on that.” He smiled to the teen before turning his attention to his son. “Virgil, send me a copy of that tweet as soon as you can. And Remus,” He grimaced as his husband paused, raising an eyebrow. He could see him practically vibrating with the need to stitch the kid up now. “I know you want to treat Janus ASAP, but I need photographic evidence of every single injury and sign of neglect before you do anything.” An unfortunate delay, but he needed the evidence recorded before it vanished. He hit call, placing his phone by his ear. “As soon as you’re done--”

“It’s straight to the shower, JanJan. Or a long hot bubble bath. Either way.” Remus said, ushering the teens towards the door. “We need you to get squeaky clean while Lo here does his thing, and then I can treat those wounds of yours without them getting infected. Okay?”

“I--I---uh...Okay?” Janus asked, sounding half strangled as they vanished inside.

The phone clicked. “Hello?” A sleepy voice asked over the line.

Hopefully Virgil could smooth over any further confusion for Janus until Logan could come back and reign Remus back from going full Mama Bear on the boy. “Hello, Patton.” He said, leaning against the wall, listening as the crickets began chirping again. “It’s Logan.”

“Lo?” He could hear his fellow lawyer and work rival stifling a yawn. “Wassup?”

“My apologies for calling so late, but I need your help with a case. Right now. If you’re able.”

The silence on the other hand wasn’t at all encouraging. But then again. It was late.

“...My help? With a case? Now?”

“Yes.” He’d already said that. Hopefully Patton’s brain would kick into a higher gear sooner rather than later or else this conversation would be lasting ten times longer than necessary. “You remember the Daemons?”

“Mmm….yah? Your fight with them had you fired up for ages with all their nonsense.”

“Exactly.” Logan exhaled. “Their son, Janus, just showed up at my house in an obvious state of neglect. Injured. Possibly abused. More than implied that it was his parents who put him in his current state. And I am, unfortunately, too visibly involved with the Daemons in a negative light to be considered an adequate impartial representative for him, especially if I house him in my home for the duration.”

Patton made a noise of surprise. “House him?”

“Virgil was--is a friend of his and he offered him sanctuary here when he discovered that Janus was in trouble. I’m not refusing him a safe place.”

“Safe? You just said--”

Logan closed his eyes, resting his head against the side of his house. “I know. I’m not on good terms with his parents.” They could go rot in a tar pit for all he cared about them. “But I’ve known the boy since he was six, Patton. He’s been to my house multiple times before. Been friends with my son. I won’t hold a grudge against the child for the actions of his parents.”

“Ha. I doubt his parents would appr--”

“His so-called parents Locked. Him. In. Their. Attic. For. FOUR. Months.” Logan interrupted, unable to hide the fury in his voice.

Patton sharply inhaled. “They WHAT?”

Exactly. It was good to hear his work rival taking the same tone. Patton had a soft spot for kids. “They locked him up and then abandoned him, Pat. I don’t know the exact circumstances just yet on why they felt that this was justifiable behavior, but no child should be treated like a prisoner by their family and no so-called parent’s opinion on where or who their son stays with should hold any weight if they’ve failed to provide decent care for their child in the first place!” Logan took a breath, forcing himself to relax his fingers on his phone before he cracked the screen. “Regardless, if the boy wishes to go elsewhere I won’t fight it. But he needed a safe place to go to and he chose to come here. That has to mean something considering the history between our two families.”

“It--I’d have to look into it.” Patton whispered. “This isn’t--the circumstances--”

“Are abnormal. I understand.” Logan nodded, staring off into the night. “Will you come?”

Patton huffed a laugh. “It’s not every day--ah night--you say you need me, Lo.”

That was true. They were more often rivals in the courtroom than collaborators these days. But still, he wouldn’t want any other lawyer to represent the boy if he couldn’t do it himself. “I need you, Pat.”

The sound of keys jangled in his ear. “Be right there.” Patton promised as the line went dead.

[zafirosreverie]

Hi could I pls get a part 2 to slippery little spider definitely one of my fav Agatha stories x

Sorry it took me so long, dear! But here it is (Please forgive me ;-;)

Slippery little spider (Agatha x Reader) part 2 

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit

You swung to dodge a fireball aimed directly at your head, while Peter shot the monster in front of you.

"Dragons, why does it always have to be dragons?!" Thought.

"Hey, Y/N!" you heard Peter from your suit's communicator "Are you okay?"

"As good as I can while fighting a fucking dragon, Parker" you growled

"Yes ... that's what I meant. You seem in a bad mood."

"Did you expect me to smile and sing while I try to avoid being burned alive?" you sighed

"No, but you usually make jokes and you seem more cheerful. In fact, now that I think about it, you seemed upset when you were assigned as my partner on this mission."

You sighed again. It was true, you were quite upset when Strange told you that you should go with Parker, since your powers would be the most useful (useful? Two spiders against a dragon?! Strange needs to stop watching movies). You had objected, but since you couldn't come up with a convincing enough excuse, you had to come anyway.

In your defense, how were you supposed to explain that you had a date? Even more than that, how were you supposed to explain that you had a date, with a villain? EVEN more, with Agatha Harkness of all villains ?! You were sure that Strange would lock you up in a psychiatrist if he found out (that's if Wanda and Monica didn't murder you first).

So here you were, fighting a fucking dragon, with just another spider for reinforcement, and a deep desire to be in a little store in a small town, "saving" hostages and blushing at the flirtation of a certain witch. Too bad we don't always have what we want, right?

Just when you were thinking about it, you felt a strong blow to your back and a strong pressure around your torso. The creature had caught you with one of its claws. Dammit.

"Y/N!!" You heard Peter scream from somewhere behind you.

You gasped when the dragon opened its mouth and pulled you closer to it, ready to eat you. You closed your, resigned. Well, you guessed there were worse ways to die. At least it would be an epic death, not everyone could put "dead in battle against a dragon" as an epitaph.

“Hands off!” Another voice said and when you opened your eyes, you saw a purple smoke surrounding the monster “Take the other spider if you want, dear, but this one’s mine”

You saw how the dragon’s eyes turned purple before it released you, but you were still floating. You turned to see Agatha right behind you. The witch smirked and pulled you closer to her, so that your face was inches from hers.

“I’ve gotta admit that being replaced with a dragon is quite offensive, love” she joked and you couldn’t help but smile

“Sorry, I guess a couple of volunteer hostages aren't as important to Strange as a dragon in the middle of the city” you said

“Strange” she scoffed "I must have guessed. Typical of him ruining my plans before midnight" she sighed and caressed your cheek with a pout

“If your hostages don’t mind, I’m free tomorrow” you whispered, making her chuckle

“I’m sure they won’t” she smirked “Then let me make sure this guy is gone for good” she said and opened a portal under the dragon. You just heard it’s roar before she closed it and that was all. 

“Thank you” you said as she carefully put you on the floor

“Don’t mention it, love, i have a reputation” she winked and you giggled 

“My lips are closed” you promised and she wrapped her arms around your waist

“I have better ideas to make sure they are” she smirked bringing her face close to yours

You smiled and brushed your lips against hers, making her close her eyes. But you had made a promise. So you pushed her away gently, giggling when she frowned. 

“Thank you again for your help, but if you excuse me, I have to go. You see, I have to rescue some hostages tomorrow from the wicked witch of the west” you joked “Have a good night, Ms Harkness” you winked and swung away from there. Leaving a very frustrated Agatha and a very confused Peter behind.

___________

It seemed that the universe (and Strange) didn’t think you deserved a rest. 

It had been a week since the dragon incident and you couldn’t go to that damned store yet! Missions kept coming and they were too close between one and the other, you could barely rest a few hours before they called you back to battle. You were tired and frustrated.

“Focus, Y/N” you heard Wanda’s voice behind you and you rolled your eyes. 

You loved her, you really did! But she was getting more and more annoying as she and Strange unlocked more of her powers. Nowadays, it seemed like the sorcerer wanted the witch to be the one in charge in every single mission. That wasn’t that bad, she cared for all of you and always tried to be the main target so you wouldn’t get hurt. But she also acted like she did all the hard work, leaving the rest of you in the shadows. 

You weren’t sure if it was her fault or Strange’s, giving that he was always praising her and her abilities, but it didn’t matter. You were tired of them all. And to be honest, you couldn’t make the guilt disappear. You felt guilty for leaving Agatha like that. If you had known that you wouldn’t be able to keep your promise, you would have kissed her that night. Hell, you’d probably even do more than just kiss (if she wanted to). 

“Y/N! FOCUS” Wanda yelled again

“Y/L/N” Strange’s voice came behind you. When you turned to him, you saw he was frowning “I asked you to come here to help, but if you’re just going to get in the way, I’ll have to ask you to leave”

That was all. You snapped.

“Get in the way?!” you asked in disbelief “I am the one keeping that thing from destroying the city! Those are MY webs! Those scars on that thing? I made them! I AM THE ONE ACTUALLY FIGHTING WHILE YOU TWO JUST FLY AROUND AND MAKING JOKES WITH EACH OTHER” you yelled “You know what? Fuck you! I’m out!” 

You didn’t even hear their responses as you swung away as quickly as you could. Your vision blurred as tears began to fill your eyes. You knew you screwed up. The sanctuary was your only home and you weren't sure Strange would let you return after speaking to him like that. But you were so tired, both physically and mentally.

You didn't really think about where you were going, but your subconscious seemed to. You sniffed and smiled against your will when you realized you were at the entrance to your little town.

You landed in front of the promised store, which still had the lights on and you could see the people inside talking and laughing and looking so normal. It seems that today was not hostage day.

"Hey" someone said behind you.

"Why do they always have to come from behind?" you thought as you turned around. You smiled when you saw the boy from the other night.

"Hi" you said

"Long time no see you" he joked "We were starting to think that you had changed us for another town"

"Never" laughed "The universe just wouldn't let me come sooner"

"You should have given the middle finger to the universe then" he laughed.

His laughter was contagious and his humor was a nice change from the atmosphere you had shared with your team the last week. You even had a fight with Peter a few days ago.

"I guess the hostages managed to escape on their own, huh?" you joked

"Well, it's easy when your captor can be bribed with chocolates."

Chocolates? Agatha likes chocolates? Interesting. You would save that information for later, perhaps as an apology.

"She looked disappointed when you didn't show up" the boy said suddenly. He gave you a sad smile and you felt guilt work its way back into your stomach.

"I'm sorry" you said

"It's not me who you need to apologize to"

"I know, but it's not like I can call her and apologize. Besides, what am I supposed to say? 'Sorry for not coming to rescue the hostages you kidnapped'?" you sighed.

"Well ... I think I have an idea" he said and you raised an eyebrow.

__________

Of all the things she thought she’d find when she arrived at the store, this wasn’t on the list. To be honest, you didn’t either. 

Agatha blinked when she found you tied up with your own webs in the middle of the store. You looked embarrassed and your face was uncovered, finally giving the witch a chance to see your face. And lord were you beautiful. Too much, if the blush that adorned her cheeks was any indication.

"What's going on?" she asked, walking towards you

"Let's say the hostages decided they wouldn't wait for the villain, so they did your job, love" you winked.

This change of roles felt strange. You never thought you 'd be the one to flirt, or that Agatha would be the one to blush, but here you were, and she was fucking cute when she was nervous.

"My lady" Nick, the boy who had planned everything, came out from behind a shelf and smirked "On behalf of all the town, we offer you this sacrifice as an offer of peace"

Agatha blinked for a second, before letting out a laugh, which was quickly followed by yours and Nick's.

"And I thought I wasn't worth of your time, love" she smiled at you

"Let's just say, I learned that Strange and Maximoff are the ones who are not worth it" you answered

"Strange and Maximoff?" she frowned and crossed her arms "No, wait. Hang on a minute. They are your arch enemies now? I'll scratch their eyes out."

You laughed at that, she looked adorable that jealous.

"They could never replace you" you assured her "So, I hope I am a worthy sacrifice"

"Oh, we'll see, love" she smiled maliciously, sitting on your lap and snaking an arm around your neck to bring your face close to hers "I hope you don't run away this time, you slippery little spider"

She claimed your lips with hers.

You shook your head, brushing your lips with hers. For a moment, Agatha was worried that you would retreat again. When she noticed that your pause was to give her the opportunity to get away, she smiled and finally, did what she had wanted from the first time she saw you.

You ignored the applause and congratulations around you, lost in the sensation of her lips against yours and her hands running down your sides.

"I think we have a winner" you whispered against her mouth when she broke the kiss.

You didn't know if you meant the town's bet, or yourself, but as she leaned in to kiss you again, you decided that you didn't really care.

[wavesmp3]

[hyunjae] the sea is yours to take

pairing: lee jaehyun x (female) reader genre: fantasy, royalty au, romance, slow burn warnings: mentions of death, some violence wc: 36k

synopsis: The Seven Sins and the Seven Gifts of the Spirit are warriors, exceptionally skilled in fighting, and they’re all dead. That is, all except you, The Gift of Fortitude. It’s an uneasy time in the kingdom with eastern Lords and northern bandits threatening a rebellion. You feel that it’s your duty to try and maintain peace within the kingdom. But when the King sends you away for an act of treason, you aren’t sure how much you can do so far from home. And it certainly doesn’t help that Jaehyun, the southern Lord of the estate you’ve been sent to, seems to hate your guts. 

a/n: and here i present another reposted fic because yolo. the original work version is here if you’re interested. this fic contains a very odd mix of tbz members and ocs so beware. also the line breaks indicate a new chapter (sort of). anyways enjoy but warning the beginning is very slow.  

—THE GIFT OF FORTITUDE—

“Lady Gift,” the words rush out of the servant’s mouth, you hum allowing him to continue, “The King asks of your presence.”

“Very well then. Tell him I’m him coming,”

And as soon as the servant had entered the equipment room, he leaves as well. Out of fear. Out of urgency. Perhaps out of both. You had assumed it was only a matter of time until the King would call for you. Afterall, murdering one of his most trusted lords who’s also a member of his council is not a crime that goes undiscussed.

You look around the training room. The walls are adorned with swords, daggers and knives. Some of your own and some of belonging to the Golden Palace. You grab a dagger off the wall and push it in your boot. It couldn’t hurt to be prepared in the case anything was to happen.

You walk along the walls, dragging out the time before your presence with the King. Your eyes and feet stop when you come across a sword, one that was gifted to you by the youngest prince himself. You take it off the wall, testing the balance of the sword in your hand. The sword is beautiful, a gold blade that shines with the brightness of the Zalazar River. The hilt of the sword is a piece of art more than it’s a handle. You think that the hilt should be gawked at in a museum instead of collecting dust at the end of a sword. Two figures emerge from the black stone of the hilt. As if they were trapped inside the stone before the maker carved them out. As if they would have been lost in the fog of the black stone if the maker hadn’t given them air to breathe. You turn the hilt and study it carefully. Prince Orindell had requested the maker carve out one of the Seven Gifts of the Spirit and one of the Seven Sins. Specifically, Prince Orindell asked for you, the Gift of Fortitude. As for the Sin, the maker chose to bring the Sin of Greed to life. You aren’t exactly sure how he did considering there are no pictures or paintings of the Sins and Gifts apart from the sculptures in the southern temples. Even then, you’re sure most of the sanctuaries that housed the sculptures were destroyed long ago. Nonetheless, the Sin of Greed emerges from the other side of the stone, and in some way the Sin of Greed looks familiar to you despite having never known Greed. Prince Orindell had excitedly gifted this to you and explained in great detail the trouble he went through to get it done. At the time, Orindell had been much younger and things had been so much simpler. You wonder what Orindell would say to you now. The thought tastes bitter in your mind.

“Did you hear that the King is waiting for you?” The familiar tones of his voice crash over you like a wave. The corners of your mouth lift.

You put the sword back carefully. “Yes, it has come to my attention,” you say as if it’s an afterthought, in a sense it is.

“Well,” he chuckles, “I guess the King will have to wait his turn.”

You rush to Juyeon and embrace him in a long hug. You can feel the longing in his arms. It warms your heart.

“I’ve missed you dearly, Juyeon.”

He grins. “I as well.”

“So much has changed since you’ve been gone.” You tell him seriously, reminded of the King you’ve kept waiting.

“I’ve heard.”

“About everything?”

“Yes, everything,” he says into your hair. The next part he whispers. “So, tell me, what warrants you murdering Lord Seth.”

Instead of answering, you pull away. “I’m afraid I must go. The King has asked for my presence.”

Juyeon’s eyes flash with a certain color of betrayal that prods at the tender parts of your heart. It pains you to see the tired bags under his eyes and the droop of his lips. You assume your face mirrors something close to his.

“Like I said, a lot has changed here Juyeon.”

“It’s actually…” he pauses, a small smile appearing on his face, “it’s actually Captain Juyeon now.”

“Oh.” You say simply. “Well congratulations Captain Juyeon. The Knights of the Holy Order are lucky to have someone as gifted as you.”

“Thank you. I learned from the best.” He smiles boyishly.

“That you did.”

You’re reminded of the lifetime before his enrollment in the army, the Knights of the Holy Order. The memory makes you sad. Despite the bleached shade to his brown hair and the dimness in his usually light eyes, it hadn’t occurred to you that perhaps a lot had changed for him too.

You’re both quiet for a moment. Until he asks, “Now about Orindell-”

You shut the door in his face.

—LORD JAEHYUN—

Jaehyun rolls out the knots in his neck and tries to stretch out the ones forming in his back. The two day journey north to the King’s City was taking longer than expected. Unlike his father, Jaehyun was not one for traveling. To Jaehyun nothing seemed particularly glamorous about the reality of riding on horseback for days and nights on end. Jaehyun was much too content with staying by the sea at the estate which Jaehyun called home. There, at his estate, the town was self-governed and quiet. There Jaehyun felt peace. Here, on his horse's saddle finally reaching a clearing in the woods, Jaehyun feels most notably irritable (although boredom and tire are a close second). Here, faced with the reality of traveling, Jaehyun understands even less why his father and Captain Younghoon put up with it. 

“We are approaching the Zalazar River," the first guard calls from the front of the party. 

"Lord Jaehyun," Younghoon says riding up from the rear, "I think you'll like this." 

And of course, Younghoon is right. Jaehyun has heard the tales about the Zalazar River. Tales of a river so deep that submarines could easily ride along the current without ever being detected. Tales of a river whose color is so magnificent it changes with the seasons. Tales of a river which seems to take flight and disappear into the eastern mountains. And although Jaehyun has yet to see the latter tale, Younghoon is right; Jaehyun loves the abyss that is the Zalazar River. 

"It's beautiful," is the only thing Jaehyun can think to say at the sight of the deep purple river. 

"Yes," Younghoon hums, "it's wonderful isn't it. I myself am partial to the yellows and dark reds of late fall. But you'll come to see how blissful the King's City looks even during this season." 

"Ah, the Golden Palace," Jaehyun mutters, gripping the reins of his horse tightly, "I'm sure spring does the city well." 

"It does." Younghoon says simply looking out towards the river as the horses step onto the Bronze Bridge. Younghoon must sense Jaehyun's discomfort because the next part he says with hesitation. "Lord Jaehyun, I think this trip will be good for you. It's time you come to see the King's City and the Golden Palace as more than just the place your father died. It's time you stop resenting it."  

And with that, the rest of the Zalazar River is crossed in silence. 

—THE GIFT OF FORTITUDE—

You approach the doors to the throne room alone and with heavy footsteps. You stop in front of the door, a feeing resembling fear crawling up your spine and wrapping around your neck. You shake the feeling away and remind yourself that you are the Gift of Fortitude with abilities and powers unmatched by even the best among the Knights of the Holy Order. The King and his council were only one of many regimes you have seen, that you have lived through. Without you, the King was nothing. You have nothing to fret. Yet still, something about the air in the corridor and the dagger in your boot makes you nervous. Something about the life of a Lord who was only following orders from the King makes you shiver. 

Regardless, you nod at the guard of the throne room, and he opens the door, announcing your presence to the room anyways. As you enter the room, you think the King has outdone himself this time. Archers line the perimeter of the room, tucked away in the balconies and presumably safe from you. The throne room usually hosts a party of six guards, but today, you count twenty swordsmen lined along the carpet, and skilled ones at that. You swallow a laugh at the dagger clinking against your ankles. Perhaps you should’ve slipped a knife under your skirt as well. But either way, you’re confident in your skills. If this broke out into a fight, you against the guards and archers, you would prevail. But to spare the boys and girls who stand around you, shaking in their armor, you would do everything in your power to avoid that.

“Gift,” the King calls to you from across the throne room, “do you know why you’re here?” The King has a smile as he asks it, knowing that for the first time in his rule, he has the upper hand over you. Hell, this is the first time since the rule of King Avi that any King has had power over you.

You nod, observing the assembly the King has gathered for your presence, apart from the soldiers. On the first platform at the end of the throne room, six seats are laid out for the six men and women of the King’s council. Two of the council seats remain empty while the other four house council members sitting still fear. Fear directed towards you. You assume that if they weren’t so scared of you and your ability, they would slouch in their seats with indifference. You’ve never taken a liking to the King’s council anyways. On the next raised platform behind the council seats, are the thrones of the King and his Princes. Prince Peter’s throne, to the left of the King’s, is empty. The sight makes you worry. As the inner court likes to say, the eldest son had ‘left’ the Golden Palace and the King’s City at the end of winter. You have yet to hear any word from Peter and can only pray to the Gods that his plans are going well. Prince Roen, the second prince, sits on the right of his father. The prince had only just returned from his campaign in the east that previous night, but despite the tire evident in Roen’s face, he smiles sympathetically at you. Next to Roen is Prince Orindell who avoids your eyes so easily, in a way only the youngest prince is capable of. His lips are all but a tight line on his face, and he grips the arm of his throne hard, his knuckles turning white. And just for the slightest of moments, Orindell meets your eyes, but as quickly as they're brought up to you face, he rips his gaze away. Despite that, you still manage to catch the dark shade of hurt and heartbreak that swims within his eyes. And it manages to replace all of your previous nerves with a familiar shade of hurt and a different one of guilt. Guilt for hurting Orindell the way you did, the way you had to. You push away the thoughts and memories and refocus on the problem at hand.

The King, differently from the others in the room, sits up straight and attentive. His smile taunts you like a dog, holding your freedom above your nose as you jump through hoops for him. You hate the man that sits before you. His throne is flashier, his rings are bigger, and his profits are lower. He is reckless and foolish. He doesn't understand the teetering balance of his own kingdom, of his entire world. He seeks out matters he doesn't understand and toys with those that should not be disturbed. And above all, the man seated before you should have never inherited the crown.

"Yes Lord King," you say, finally answering his question. "I know why you have asked for me today. Although, you need not ask such useless questions." You pause for a moment, your next words simmering on the tip of your tongue. "I miss your father for that reason, he wasn't so persistently foolish." 

The King scowls, and the council members roll their eyes while both of the present princes hide snickers. 

"You should be more mindful of the treason that leaves your mouth, Gift." The King tells you, his confidence dented but his smile as evil as ever. "The blood of one of my most trusted Lords stains your hands, and if you continue such pathetic, pointless defiance, your blood will stain the floors of this room."

You hum. "Perhaps, but you underestimate me, Lord King, greatly. And if you think you know the extent of my skill, then let me say that for the entirety of your small life, you have never seen me fight with the intention to kill. If the men and women you have assembled for me attack, you will be sitting over their dead bodies."

“And then what? You’ll have taken the lives of even more innocent people.” And at this you falter. At this, you’re forced to give the King credit because he knows where to land his blows. He knows how to keep your freedom so close you can smell it, but still far enough so that you can’t have it. But you gulp down your guilt and continue regardless.

"I have killed more men in my life then you know in yours. I will live just as I do now." And despite the conviction with which you say it, you know the King is not fooled by your empty words. You meet Roen's eyes, and he nods. You take it as a vote of confidence. "Either way Lord King, I pay you no debt. I owe you nothing. My own disdain for traveling is the only thing keeping me at your court." 

"Yes, that may be the case," the King chuckles rubbing his ring clad knuckles against his chin, "so then leave, Gift. Leave this court and never return." 

The breath is knocked out of your lungs. This, you did not expect. 

"Father, you can't-" Orindell blurts, standing up from his throne staring sadly at you. He shakes his head, attempting to cover his own selfish intent with reason. "Father, we need the Gift of Fortitude. Your hold on this kingdom is weak without her power. If you lose Fortitude, you risk losing the kingdom." 

“Eh,” one of the female council members speaks up, looking less afraid of you now, “let the Gift of Fortitude go. A monster like her has no business in a King’s court.”

The words strike you across the cheek, specifically the word ‘monster’. 

“You!” Orindell shouts at the council member, rage contorting his face. “How dare—"

Roen cuts Orindell off, before he can rampage further. "Father, Orindell is right. I've met with the Lords in the far east. The failure of the west harvest this season has made them restless. If it weren't for Fortitude, a rebellion from the east would be an even more pressing issue than it already is." Roen's eyes are in a panic, the previous tire eradicated from his face. "Think rationally father."

"I am thinking rationally!" The King booms, sending your gut straight to your throat and the princes back to their thrones. The council members sit motionless once again. Perhaps out of fear of the King this time as well. "But if the Gift of Fortitude does not wish to be banished from this court, then so be it." You exhale. "However, I will not have you and your treason-filled mouth infiltrating my court." The King spares a seething glare at Peter's empty throne. "You will still be a member of this court, but you will not stay at the Golden Palace until I permit your return. Lord Jaehyun and Captain Younghoon from the southern lands are on their way to the Golden Palace as we speak. They are to arrive later today."  The name Jaehyun sounds familiar, but you can't quite recall where you’ve heard it before. "You will live out your sentence there, at his estate." And then it hits you. You had heard of Lord Jaehyun’s name before. Jaehyun’s father was a regular visitor to the Golden Palace before he fell sick and died in the palace infirmaries several years ago. 

 “But—” Orindell begins before his father cuts him off.

"And if you refuse, then I will personally see to the completion of the act you murdered Lord Seth to prevent."

You know now, with the King’s final threat, that you must hold out on your freedom. Even if the King’s threat is a bluff, the risk of it alone takes priority. With one last deep exhale, you conform.

You spare the princes’ thrones one last glance before reaching into your boot and dropping the dagger you had tucked inside. The dagger hits the stone floor with an obnoxious clatter. The sound of your acceptance echoes throughout the walls hauntingly. You exit the throne room and head straight to your personal quarters without another word.

***

You weep for hours and hours. You weep for this kingdom. You weep for Orindell, for Juyeon, for Roen, for Peter. You weep for the King and his foolishness. You weep for the power of the Gifts that had been bestowed upon you all those years ago, and for the sheer fact that you are a Gift despite never asking for it. But most of all, you weep for the freedom you can’t have as long as the current king lives.

You weep until you’re sure you can’t have any tears left to shed. You weep until you feel dead.

 That night, you have dinner in your dining room with Prince Roen. He tells you about his recent campaigns, his successes and losses. He spends a little too long telling you about the daughter of one of the better eastern lords. He smiles as he mentions her, playing absentmindedly with his food. 

"I was starting to wonder why you were taking so many trips to the east." You say with a playful smile that feels foreign on your lips. "Do you intend to marry her Roen?" 

 A blush creeps onto his cheeks as his eyes meet yours in shock. "No, no," he shakes his head vigorously, "it isn't like that." But then as he pokes a carrot with his fork, Roen's lips turn down in a frown. "I can't imagine someone who distrusts the monarchy so much even considering a prince anyways."

You hum, recognizing the lingering in his movements and the longing in his voice as something particular to youth, something hidden in your own memories, and something you beg to forget. You swallow your thoughts down and focus on comforting the boy in front of you.

"I'm sure that's not something a few more trips to the east can't change, Roen. Afterall, you are known for your persuasive nature." He snorts. "It also helps that no one distrusts the monarchy more than the members of it. Perhaps if the lady were to know of your true intentions, then you wouldn't think it so bizarre to ask for her hand. I'm afraid you underestimate how many women would love to be a princess, even to a palace like this." 

He smiles again, “Thank you."  He pushes the carrot into his mouth.

Dinner continues in a comfortable silence, the only ambiance being the crackling of torches along the wall and the fire in the hearth. Roen pauses for a second swallowing his food carefully. Then he looks over at you tentatively before opening his mouth to speak. You cut him off before he gets the chance.

"Roen please, I don't need your pity." 

He chuckles and murmurs something you don't exactly catch. "I was just going to say that I've been to Lord Jaehyun's holding. You'll come to see just how beautiful and picturesque the south is, and I think you'll take a liking to Captain Younghoon." You vaguely knew of Captain Younghoon. He was the youngest ever Captain of the Knights of the Holy Order, second only to the Commander, but retired at a young age. Lord Jaehyun on the other hand was a complete mystery to you. You knew nothing of him only that he was from the south and that he was his father’s son. 

"Have you ever seen the sea?" Roen asks. You shake your head. "Well if you're standing by the shore, the water of the sea continues on into the horizon for what seems like forever. The water stretches so far out and in all directions. From the shore, it appears like if you travelled far out enough, you'd fall off the edge of the world-"

"I've seen paintings." You snipe.

"Yes, but it doesn't compare to the real thing. The sea," he trails off, a dazed off look in his eyes, "is something else entirely." 

You can’t help but smile at the bliss Roen radiates at the mere thought of the sea. “I guess I’ll be seeing for myself soon enough.” You think the world could use a few more like Roen. Even in the darkest of moments, he remains a ray of light. “You remind me so much of your grandfather, Roen.”

His eyebrows rise, and then a saddened look crosses his eyes. "He's always talked to highly of, even by the eastern Lords. But what was he like?" 

You hesitate, thinking back to the times before you had returned to the Golden Palace. "Perhaps not as clever as your father. But kind and empathetic. He possessed a certain understanding of this kingdom although at times, he could be impulsive. At the end of the day, your grandfather was a good king, and you've managed to inherit all his best traits." 

"Were you close to him?" 

"No, not while he was king. At that time, I wasn't closely involved with the King's court. I only returned because of your mother." There's another silence. You spend it immersed in your memories.

Finally, Roen speaks. “Do me a favor and enjoy the sea.”

He stands up and presses a kiss to your forehead in goodbye. Then he leaves the dining rooms, sending in a servant to clean up your dinner. 

***

There’s a knock on your bedroom doors later that night. You’re sitting in front of the fire with your knees pulled up against your chest when it happens.

“Who is it?” You ask tiredly.

"It's me." You recognize his voice immediately. And if it weren't for the hours you spent weeping this morning, you probably would've cried at the sound of his voice alone. You didn’t expect Orindell to come and bid you farewell, but somehow the fact that he does makes it all the more real. 

You push yourself off the rug and move towards the door. Your hand hovers over the doorknob, but after another thought, you drop your hand, deciding to make due with conversation through the door.

“Yes, Orindell,” you call through the door, “what is it?”

You listen as he stumbles over his words for a second before falling silent. When his voice resurfaces, it’s small and scattered. “Do you hate me so much as to not open the door?”

You sigh. In a loud and exaggerated way so that you know he hears it. Orindell means well. Deep down, you know so much. But his words are a paint brush coloring a lousy shade of blame all over you; as if any of the issues that have come between you two is your fault. You suppose if you tried confronting him again, he would try to tell you that it is. “Prince Orindell, have at least enough dignity to recognize that I’m doing this for you.”

He exhales harshly in acceptance. You settle for it. There’s more silence, and after a few minutes, you begin to think that he’s left. But when he speaks up again, he proves you wrong. “Roen was saying how he reminds you of our grandfather.”

You inhale sharply. Conversing with Orindell had come to this point. To the point where you both had to speak lightly and with low voices as to not anger each  other. To the point where you both had to tiptoe around topics as to not bring up something the other did not wish to speak of. To the point where you couldn't even talk about what mattered. 

“Indeed, he does.” 

“Then…” Orindell hesitates. You hear a small tap on the door, “do I remind you of anyone?”

You smile. His question reminded you of a time before his confession, of a time when conversation with Orindell was simple and delightful, of a time when Orindell was a child. You let the question sit in the air for a second despite knowing exactly who Orindell reminds you of. You think of it every time he smiles or laughs or does anything at all, for all his mannerisms and all his traits remind you exactly of her. He reminds you of her in an obvious almost flashy way, in a way you couldn’t possibly ignore. In a way that’s not as subtle as Roen. In a way, that makes Orindell so dear to you. “You remind me of your mother, Orindell.” Your voice softens. “You are so very much like your mother.” 

He hums, satisfied with your response despite already knowing it. “Do you miss her?”

“Everyday.” 

“I wish I knew her.”

There is no pain in his voice as he says it, and yet you feel so much pain when he does. “She would’ve loved you.” Then you pause before saying the next part with a laugh dancing under your voice.  “In fact—well don’t tell the other two—but she probably would’ve loved you the most.” 

Orindell laughs. You relish in the sound. Then after a moment, he asks: “How about Peter then? Who does he remind you of?”

You falter, not quite able to put your finger on who Peter reminds you of. If not someone, then there is something the eldest prince reminds you of. Something like a memory, but there’s a fog in your mind that halts you from knowing any more. And right now, with Peter long gone, the memory seems so faint; you aren’t even sure it’s real.

“I’m not sure,” is all you can say. Orindell hums as if he wasn’t really waiting for your answer anyways. You are quick to push down the annoyance that bubbles from it.

“Do you wish to leave?” He asks, in a voice that makes you believe he was scared to do so.

“Of course not.” You deny, perhaps a little more harshly than necessary. You try not to think too much about your upcoming departure from the Golden Palace. You fail.

Orindell waits a long moment. But when he speaks again, the words come falling out of his mouth. “We could get married. And then you won’t have to leave. It’ll fix everything, and father won’t be able to send you away.” 

“Orindell,” you hiss, but you want to rage. And in this moment, you hate how much he reminds you of his mother. Because just like her, his love makes him stupid. His love clouds his judgement. And in this moment, you want to yell at him and scream because you do not need someone you care for as much as you do Orindell telling you the same foolish things the people you think so lowly of do. You do not need Orindell persisting that a marriage will fix everything. You do not need Orindell, even less do you need his romantic interest in you. But you want Orindell, as a friend. And you have no wish to leave the Golden Palace in yet another argument with him. So, for that reason, and that one alone, you swallow your rage, and it burns all the way down your throat.

“Leave Orindell.”

“Not until-”

“Just go,” you seethe, the anger seeping from between your teeth. You don't wait for a response, storming to the other side of the room, near the fire. You stand by it for a second, the heat only adding to the flame burning inside you. And when you’ve had enough, your anger bursting from its seams, you kick the neat stack of firewood beside you. All seven logs go flying, one of them dents the wall. You focus on your breathing.

There’s another knock at the door. “Orindell, I said go!” You yell whipping the door open to come face to face with a wide-eyed Juyeon. “Oh, Juyeon,” you say in shock. 

“Bad time?” He asks with raised shoulders and the faintest hint of a smile. 

You huff, ignoring the urge to hit him over the head. “Just come in.”

“Roen told me about your sentence.” He begins, sitting down in an armchair while you go back to kneeling by the fire. 

“Roen sure is talking plenty tonight.” You mutter into the orange glow.

“Roen always talks plenty,” Juyeon hums, amused but calm.

Juyeon, in himself, is an epitome to his upbringing. He was only a young boy and a palace servant when you took him in and taught him how to fight. To your surprise, Juyeon turned out to be an excellent fighter. Before you had relieved the orphan boy of his petty debts to the King, Juyeon was constantly riled up. Always looking for a fight but losing once he did. He was angry at the world, and for good reason, but looking at him now, Juyeon contains none of the anger that consumed him as a boy. You suppose you can thank him joining the Knights of the Holy Order for that. You knew firsthand how fighting in the way that the Knights do, even when there is no war, changes a person. Afterall, fighting in the Holy Wars despite your age and disinterest in conflict, had changed you in such a way that when you visited your father afterwards, he didn’t even recognize you. But you think Juyeon, unlike what your father thought of you, has changed for the better. He had come back on his breaks more mature and grown. He had become a friend to you despite the manner in which your relationship had begun. Juyeon was the first true friend you had since the princes' late mother. 

And after a while of you glaring at the fire and Juyeon crossing and uncrossing his legs, he finally speaks up again. "Don't blame yourself for Orindell's inability to control himself and his emotions." 

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you to be speaking ill of your friend and more importantly the prince." You bite back, stubbornly refusing his comfort. 

He scoffs. "Don't be so dense. You're my friend too." 

There's a silence and you reach your hand out to hover over the fire. "Did you know?"

"About Orindell and you?" 

You nod although there is no 'Orindell and you'. There is only Orindell's foolishness and your reason. 

He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and holding his chin in his palm. "Yes," he says with such simplicity it irks you. "In my defense, I thought you knew." 

"You'd think after all these years of living, I would be more in tune with these things, but no," you say rather lamely, "I'm still just as clueless as I was." 

"It appears even time can't change that." Juyeon jokes. You laugh for the first time that day, and it feels like you can finally breathe again. 

"Have you heard any word from Peter?" The question seems to bring you both back to reality. And the question, or perhaps reality, drags Juyeon's lips down and draws his gaze towards the flames. 

He scratches a spot behind his head. "Not a word.”

“I’ve been sending him Risals.” 

“And…?” Juyeon asks, hopeful.

“They come back empty. He doesn’t send me anything back.” 

Juyeon sighs, and you can’t decide if it sounds more tired or sad. “But if he's following his plan then he should be at the Nomads' Land by now." 

"That's only if he was able to find the Nomads' Land.”  You rub your temple thinking and overthinking all the aspects of Peter's plan. On a hunch and a forgotten memory, you had advised Peter to head north to the Giant Forest. Specifically, you had advised Peter to find the Nomads’ Land within the Giant Forest. The Nomads have always been very private people but even more so after the rule of King Avi, who ruled over the kingdom during the Holy Wars. No one has even seen a Nomad since let alone their Lands. There are no maps, no stories, nothing. On top of that, the Nomads’ have never been known for their kindness to strangers. "I feel as if I've let him go on an impossible quest."

Juyeon shakes his head, a crease running through his forehead. “Peter decided to go himself. He sketched up the plans himself. If he thought he could do it, there must be something he knows that we don’t.”

You nod even though Juyeon sounds as if he’s convincing himself of it as much as he’s convincing you. But you know, there is some truth to Juyeon's words. Peter is more than competent to do what he set out to do. As he grew, the eldest prince always found new ways to surprise you with his skill. After the Holy Wars and the deaths of all the Sins and Gifts apart from yourself, your fighting skill went unmatched. That was until Peter. Peter trained under you by the request of his mother and to the disdain of his father, and as Peter grew, so did his skill. By the time Peter had aged into a man, he became a better opponent than you had seen in ages. His brute strength making up for what he lacked in skill. But there’s something else about Peter as well, perhaps the same quality that puts a fog in your mind and reminds you of a memory you can’t remember. That part of him makes you wonder if there is something else that eases your worries. Whatever quality of Peter that perplexes you, is the same one that proves Peter is capable of completing his task to overthrow the King, to overthrow his father. You can only hope your advice to ask the Nomads gets him far enough to do it.

"You're right," you admit, "Peter is capable. I'm just worried. It all..." you hesitate struggling to find the right words, "It all makes my head ache." 

Juyeon sits back in the armchair, his brows furrowed and appearing to be deep in thought. He opens his mouth suddenly as if to speak, yet nothing comes out. He seems to be overcome with the same loss of words as you.

“I hate to ask this—”

“Then don’t.” 

“—but why did you send Peter to the Nomads’ Land?”

You still. The same fog from before overcoming your mind once again. “I can’t even begin to explain, Juyeon, I—”

“Try,” you meet his eyes, they look darker in this light or perhaps it’s his own confusion and hopeless need to understand that makes his eyes turn to the color of bark after a thunderstorm, “please.”

You do.

“I’ve told you before, Juyeon. I  struggle to remember life before the Holy Wars.” You pause, taking a moment to collect and retrieve your thoughts from the thick fog consuming your mind. You come back empty handed.

“It’s almost as if life never existed before the Holy Wars.” You say slowly. “I’ve forgotten the way life was before that. The way life was before I was the Gift of Fortitude. But sometimes, just barely, I get a sense of a memory. As if whatever made me forget is wearing off. As if it’s weakening.” You take another break, dropping your head in your hands. You can feel a headache coming. “These memories, they come and go, lasting only for the moment they appear. But when I was speaking with Peter that night, something about him or something about our conversation brought this memory to me. And I…” You trail off, struggling to remember the conversation you had with Peter before he took off.

Juyeon stands up from the armchair and joins you on the floor. His movements are frantic, but the message they send is clear: they scream desperation. “I know it’s difficult to remember, but please try as best you can. We were so close last time.”

This makes you stop. You release your head from your hands and look back at Juyeon quizzingly. “Last time?” You repeat in disbelief.

He grabs your face in his hands, forcing you to look at him. “Focus. You talk of a memory. A memory to do with the Nomads and your life before the Holy Wars. What did you remember that day with Peter? Why did you send him to the Nomads’ Lands?”

You don’t even hear him, your head suddenly splitting with pain. “When did we speak about this before?” You ask, helplessly wondering how you possibly could have forgotten an entire conversation.

“The memory,” Juyeon emphasizes once more, “what was the memory?”

“Juyeon, please,” you beg, feeling a tear you hadn’t even noticed roll down your chin, “let it go. I don’t remember.”

His entire body seems to sigh in defeat. “I’m sorry,” he mutters before letting go of your face. Your mind turns white with fog the moment he lets go. You  immediately drop your head into your hands again. The pain in your head so intense you have to bite your lip to stop yourself from crying out. Eventually, you taste blood.

“I’m sorry.” Juyeon mumbles into your hair. You hadn’t even realized he was embracing you. “I wish it didn’t have to hurt so much to remember.”

You try to tell him it’s like a curse but the words get swallowed by another surge of pain.

He helps you into your bed, and it makes you feel as old as you are. He whispers another apology before leaving your room. 

And like a spell, the fog in your mind devours your entire body in a deep sleep.

—LORD JAEHYUN—

"In the name of the Gods, we offer this prayer. Bestow upon us the knowledge of the Elders to live in harmony with our neighbors. By bathing in your everlasting light and glory, may we go in peace.” Jaehyun prays although his mind is far from the memorized passages that leaves from his lips. The palace temple is modern and beautiful, but different compared to the traditional southern temples he’s used to. But even that, Jaehyun can’t focus on. No, instead, Jaehyun troubles himself with the events of this morning. He awoke exhausted and aching after a long day of riding. But despite his tire, he was to meet the Gift of Fortitude this morning with breakfast in your personal dining room. It was awkward to say the least, with Jaehyun and Younghoon unsure and timid and you holding your head in your hands, complaining of a headache to a servant in hushed tones. Yet, Jaehyun sits in the palace temple thinking and overthinking how you, the Gift of Fortitude, looked so undeniably human. 

Jaehyun sneaks a glance. You’re seated next to him, but you look as if you’re somewhere else altogether. Your eyes are sewn shut and your lips are held tightly in a line. He wouldn’t have thought you to be so religious. Hell, Jaehyun wouldn’t have thought anyone north of the Zalazar River to be religious, but with the way you sit, concentrated on the prayers, religious is the only thing Jaehyun can think of to describe you. 

The King had sent a message to Jaehyun’s southern estate at the beginning of the week asking for Jaehyun’s and Captain Younghoon’s presence at the Golden Palace immediately. The King didn’t bother including any details. Jaehyun and Younghoon were left to speculate what business he could possibly have with them. With Jaehyun, a southern Lord who never involved himself with the politics of the kingdom, and with Younghoon, a retired Captain of the Knights of the Holy Order. It certainly doesn’t help that Lord Jaehyun is known to harbor a dislike towards the King. 

But now, as Jaehyun and Younghoon walk the ornate halls of the undeniably breathtaking Golden Palace alongside the Gift of Fortitude, Jaehyun wonders even more why the King has asked for them.

“Lord King I present to you Lady Gift of Fortitude, Lord Jaehyun, and Captain Younghoon." The guard announces to the King's throne room as the three of you enter. The throne room, Jaehyun notices, is just as lavish as the rest of the palace, if not more. Five of the six counsel seats are filled. Prince Roen and Prince Orindell sit attentively at their thrones, but Prince Peter's throne is empty. Jaehyun finds the sight odd, especially since the heir to the throne is known to be closely involved with the King's affairs and even more because Prince Peter is a close friend of you, as are all the Princes. 

Despite that, the King wastes no time. He says that you wish to visit the southern lands, and offers Jaehyun's estate as a place for you to stay. Jaehyun assumes there is more to the request than the King lets on but accepts nonetheless, and the three of you are ushered out of the throne room almost as soon as you’re brought in. 

Jaehyun, Younghoon, and you walk the halls aimlessly after the dreaded presence with the King which admittedly was briefer and more passive than Jaehyun had imagined. 

“I apologize for the circumstances, Lord Jaehyun and Captain Younghoon. I’m afraid I had little choice in the matter. I just wished the King hadn’t handled matters so hurriedly.” You tell them. 

“It’s quite alright, Lady Gift,” Younghoon affirms, glancing at Jaehyun as if expecting him to say something, but Jaehyun stays silent. “I find it a shame although,” Younghoon says to cover Jaehyun’s silence, “that there were so many missing in the King’s close court this morning.” 

“Yes.” You respond simply. 

“If I may, where is Prince Peter? I’ve heard you’re close to all three Princes.”

“You heard correctly, Captain Younghoon.” Then you pause. Jaehyun closely observes the way you carefully choose your next words. “Prince Peter had some personal matters to take care of. He’s taken a sabbatical of sorts.” 

"Odd that there was no royal notice of his sabbatical," Younghoon says in an even but skeptical tone. 

"Yes, Prince Peter is nearly as impulsive as his father," you cringe slightly when you say it, as if the words hurt.

And it's evident in the way you deflect the question, that there's something more to Prince Peter's absence. Something the King's court has chosen to cover up and ignore. Jaehyun knew just how impulsive the King could be, and for that reason, Jaehyun suspects that Prince Peter has snuck out of the palace, but then with another look at your scornful face, Jaehyun suspects something different. Prince Peter must have been sent away by his father himself. The realization takes a moment to sink in. 

Younghoon clears his throat. “And then what about Lord Seth, the sixth member of the King’s court?”

You stop walking altogether, looking down at your feet with furrowed brows. You look as if you’ve forgotten something. Jaehyun and Younghoon stop walking as well.

“You haven’t heard?” You question so quietly that Jaehyun barely hears it.

Younghoon tilts his head, “Heard what?”

You bite your lip, and look off to the side. You open your mouth once, but then close it again after. Jaehyun thinks, as mad as it sounds, that you, a Gift of the Spirit, look a little nervous.

Jaehyun takes a step forward. “What is it Lady Gift?” He asks, breaking his silence.

You shake your head once and then look up at Lord Jaehyun and Captain Younghoon with steady eyes. “Lord Seth was murdered.” You state with an eerie simplicity. You hesitate before adding the next part. “And I was the one who killed him.”

Jaehyun was wrong. It was not nerves that made you hesitate. It was guilt.  

“Well then, I just need to take care of a few more things before we leave. I’ll meet you both at the stables.”

And you’re off before Jaehyun and Younghoon can even comprehend what you just said.

 ***

Jaehyun waits for you and Younghoon in the stables. He tends to his horse deep in thought. 

Jaehyun hadn't been sure of the nature of your prospective visit to his estate. But now with your murder confession, it's clear you are being sent away as a punishment. You’re more akin to the stories and rumors than Jaehyun had wanted to believe. A monster lurking on the palace grounds as one of the Seven Gifts of the Spirit under the pretense that you mysteriously switched sides and fought with the Seven Sins during the Holy Wars. A monster lurking within a human body with an uncontrollable power that should be stopped, contained. 

Jaehyun doesn’t agree with all of it, but he’s not above some of the notions either. Before the Holy Wars, the Seven Gifts of the Spirit were praised as highly as the Seven Sins. The two groups worked in harmony as protectors of humanity. However, for reasons unknown to the people, the Seven Sins and Seven Gifts of the Spirit began fighting which escalated into the Holy Wars. The kingdom took the side of the Sins making the Gifts an enemy to the nation. After the war, the Gifts were not praised as highly as they once were. In fact, the Seven Gifts of the Spirit were not praised at all. All seven Sins and six of the Gifts perished in the Holy Wars. You, the only one who had survived, shouldered the blame of the Holy Wars. You, the Gift of Fortitude, became a pariah.

Although Jaehyun hates himself for doing so, he can’t help but think that perhaps you do have too much power. Power that is unmatched without another living Sin or Gift. Power that goes unchecked. If the Gift of Fortitude set out to kill, Jaehyun doubts there is much that could stop you. Lord Seth’s murder had gone unannounced and relatively unpunished. Jaehyun wonders if Lord Seth was an isolated example or just another among the many whose lives were put in your hands. 

But then when Jaehyun thinks back to the figure praying diligently beside him in the temple just hours ago and the person who complained of something as mundane as a headache this morning, it doesn’t appear to make much sense. If Jaehyun had not known you to be the Gift of Fortitude, he would’ve never fathomed that you’d even hurt a fly.  

“That’s a very beautiful horse you have there, Lord Jaehyun,” you say suddenly, bringing to Jaehyun’s attention your presence in the stables. 

 Jaehyun nods with a polite yet strained smile. “Yes, he was gifted to me by my father.” 

“Ah,” you mutter. And for a second, Jaehyun thinks he sees your face turn to a frown. But before he can look any further, you continue. “Mines is a river horse.” You brush through the mane of the horse in the stall next to Jaehyun’s. “I found him a while back by the Zalazar River.” 

Jaehyun doesn’t say anything in response. He begins attaching his saddles and bags to his horse instead. He watches the affection with which you care for your horse. He wonders how you’re able to act so calmly after admitting to murder not too long ago. Jaehyun thinks your dismissal and nonchalance negates any trust he might’ve held for you.  

He clears his throat. He makes sure it’s loud and obtrusive. He makes sure the I don’t trust you is clear. 

“Lord Jaehyun,” you begin, not even bothering to take your eyes off your horse, “I understand you may be upsetted by and skeptical of my actions, but I kindly ask that you respect them nonetheless. I hope you come to see that I had my reasons. Good reasons. Ones that I am unable to share with you.” You pause for a second as a servant brings in a bird Jaehyun doesn’t recognize and sets it by your feet. You continue as soon as the servant disappears behind the stable doors. “I am no stranger to fear and hate directed towards me. But seeing as I am to be staying at your estate for the foreseeable future, I ask that you wait and get to know me before you make any rash assumptions concerning me.” You take a step past Jaehyun so that you stand beside him facing the opposite stable door. You turn your head, and Jaehyun shivers at the way your breath hits his neck. You speak directly into his ear, voice no louder than a whisper. “It’s best you realize sooner rather than later that we have the same enemy here.” 

Jaehyun understands what you are implicating, the notion alone bringing a sudden heat to his cheeks. He doesn’t dare to meet your eyes. But you stare at Jaehyun until he makes some acknowledgment of your speech. You’re gone the moment he does, leaving a cloud of dust and dirt in the space you used to occupy. 

Jaehyun is left stunned. He can’t even acknowledge the palace servant that re enters the stable to finish preparing your horse. He’s only brought out of mind when a familiar heavy hand rests upon his shoulder. 

“We’re ready when you are Jaehyun,” Younghoon says, a laugh dancing under his words. 

Jaehyun groans. “How much of that did you hear?” 

Younghoon releases Jaehyun’s shoulder. “Enough,” he hums with an enthusiastic nod. 

“So you think it’s excusable then?” Jaehyun questions, hurt that Younghoon seems to be taking your side over his. “Are you willing to excuse murder too?” 

Younghoon’s quiet for a moment, but when he does speak again, he does so seriously. Jaehyun listens intently. “It’s not that I’m excusing murder Jaehyun. It’s that I’m willing to believe there is more to this story than we are hearing. I’m willing to trust the Gift of Fortitude over the King.” 

Jaehyun shakes his head. “I just can’t understand how everyone is looking past the life that has been lost. How can you accept a crime as grave as murder?”

Younghoon chuckles darkly. “I spent the better part of my life making murderers out of men and women. I made a murderer out of myself as Captain of the Knights of the Holy Order. I stay sane because I believe that I led knights to their deaths for good reason. If I did not accept the murders I’ve committed, I would have gone mad a long time ago. Sometimes Jaehyun, a crime is only as grave as its motivation.”

Jaehyun is silent, taking his time to understand what Younghoon means. He returns his attention to his horse. 

“What have you been doing all morning?” Jaehyun asks, deciding he needs more time to process than the moment allows. Younghoon isn’t bothered by the shift in conversation. 

“Ah, I had many things to discuss with Prince Orindell. You know, former Captain of the Knights to current Commander.”

“Anything worth sharing?” 

Younghoon hums. “Not much, although he is an excellent Commander, Prince Orindell,” Younghoon clarifies, “even despite his young age. What they say is true, he possesses a gift for...”

Jaehyun nods, listening half-heartedly to Younghoon for Jaehyun has no interest in the subjects of armies and battles. 

Eventually, Younghoon wears himself out with talk of the current state of the Knights, the supply chain routes, their management of northern bandits and uneasy eastern Lords, and whatever else Younghoon can think to comment on. And by the time he does, the horses are prepped and ready to go. The small, mismatched party of Lord Jaehyun, Captain Younghoon, and the Gift of Fortitude begin the two day journey south. 

The journey is quiet and tense. The only conversation coming from Younghoon and you making small talk about the weather and the shameful fail of the western harvest. They take rest at the Bronze Bridge. 

The Zalazar River is now a blood red color. Younghoon comments on how it’s a little early for the river to take such a dark color. He also mentions that this color is one of his favorites. 

“My favorite,” you begin, leaning over the edge to stare at the water, “is the blue that appears during the transition from winter to spring.”

They all, including the guards, stare at you, dumbfounded. You notice a second too late and turn your head towards them slowly. 

“What?” You breathe, and Jaehyun laughs when he realizes you’re being serious. He laughs at the notion that your favorite color of an ever-changing river is the color of all bodies of water.   

“In that case, Lady Gift,” Younghoon chuckles, “I think you’ll take a great liking to the sea.” 

They mount their horses and cross the rest of the Bronze Bridge and blood red river a little less tensely. 

***

They take rest at an inn for the night. Jaehyun finds how empty the inn is odd considering it is at the center of this town off the main road. Even if most of the rooms were unoccupied, the dining rooms of inns were always full at nights with the town’s people engrossed in conversation over a pint of beer. But tonight, with the guards resting upstairs, the inn’s dining room is mostly empty. Three tables are occupied and one of those three are occupied by Jaehyun, Younghoon, and you. Jaehyun remembers what you said about fear and hate being directed towards you. He starts to wonder how often you empty a room with fear, intentional or not.

—THE GIFT OF FORTITUDE—

You feel bad. It’s been so long since you’ve left the King’s City, that you’ve forgotten how the people outside the Golden Palace react to you. You have forgotten that most people don’t want to eat dinner and play drinking games with a Gift of the Spirit near. You make a mental note to cover up more next time you’re out. Then after a quick glance at the innkeeper behind the bar, you make another note to reimburse her for the money she must’ve lost thanks to you.  

You’re aware of the way Jaehyun squints at you, untrusting. The southern Lord hadn’t appeared to be so headstrong and stubborn when you met him this morning. But as Lord Jaehyun stares daggers at you, you guess that your first impression of him was wrong. Still, you’re tired of petty conflict. You want to help Jaehyun understand your motives without involving him in the palace’s politics. You want to make peace. 

You exhale sharply. 

“Lord Jaehyun,” his eyes widen when you address him, “Captain Younghoon, I know you must have many reasons to distrust me.” Jaehyun scoffs. You ignore it. “But I’d like to make peace with you both. I’m afraid I might not be able to answer all of your questions but perhaps there’s some that I can.” 

You feel uneasy. You aren’t one to make an effort to get someone to like you or trust you. And yet, you find yourself in front of Lord Jaehyun and Captain Younghoon nearly begging for their acceptance. 

“I have a question,” Younghoon begins, sitting up slightly. You nod. “What kind of bird do you travel with? I’ve never seen a bird like that before.” 

“Oh, the bird. It’s my personal Risal.” You say simply. You aren’t surprised to see the shock on their faces. Risals were extremely rare and even more expensive. They’re said to have been blessed by the Gods as messenger birds. That of course is the only explanation for how Risals are able to send any message anywhere and to anyone in no more than a day even if the one sending the message does not know where to find the one receiving. 

“My Gods, how in the world did you get your hands on a Risal?” Younghoon exclaims, like a little kid waiting for sweets. 

You smile. “It was a gift from the princes’ late mother, Roe.” The reminder makes your smile turn sad. Lord Jaehyun notices. 

“Are they as untraceable as they say?” 

You nod. “Tracking a Risal is impossible. It’s almost as if they disappear into thin air when they take flight.” 

“You’re very lucky.” Younghoon tells you with a laugh, and you let yourself believe that you’ve made some progress. Lord Jaehyun, however, doesn’t let you believe so for long. 

“I have a question.” Lord Jaehyun implores, bringing himself out of his silence. His voice is stern and a little cold. Younghoon looks uneasy. You beckon for him to continue anyways. “What exactly do you possess as a Gift of the Spirit?” His voice is filled with distrust, but when you meet his eyes, you're surprised to find that they aren’t as cold as his voice. 

“Jaehyun—“ Younghoon starts. 

“How do you mean?” You encourage him to continue. You know what he wants to hear. He wants to hear how you’re a killer by nature. He wants you to explain just how deadly you are. He wants you to prove his distrust. 

“What are your powers, Gift?” 

You flinch at the name. You flinch at the question. Both of which you hate. And yet, you’re no stranger to either. But you’ve already decided to make peace, and so peace you’ll make. 

“As you know, in ancient times Maratelli the archangel gave 14 roles to humans. The Seven Sins: Greed, Anger, Pride, Lust, Sloth, Gluttony, and Envy. And the Seven Gifts of the Spirit: Wisdom, Understanding, Counsel, Knowledge, Piety, Fear, and,” you pause to look at Lord Jaehyun directly, “Fortitude. The Sins and Gifts were given to the people as protectors. As humanity’s fighters. To answer your question Lord Jaehyun, I am an exceptionally skilled fighter. I was made and crafted by the Gods to fight for humans and protect them in ways they cannot. But the power is not almighty, the Seven Sins and Gifts are slow healers. Even small injuries can leave us bedridden for weeks.” 

Lord Jaehyun wastes no time, jumping into the next question. “Are you immortal?” 

“No.” 

“So you can die?” 

“Yes.” 

“By old age?” 

“No.” 

“Then how?” 

You wait a beat. “By giving up.” You don't explain any further. 

You had hoped to make peace with Lord Jaehyun tonight. Perhaps you had hoped for too much. 

--LORD JAEHYUN-- There’s a familiar tense silence while riding the next day. They reach Jaehyun’s estate by late afternoon, earlier than expected. 

You request to be taken straight to your quarters. 

“You’re acting strange.” Younghoon mutters, watching Jaehyun with a careful eye as he takes a spoonful of his soup. It’s only Jaehyun and Younghoon at dinner tonight. You decided you were too tired to attend. 

“How so?” Jaehyun questions, swirling his spoon around the bowl. 

“The cook made your favorite soup, and you’ve had only two spoons of it so far.”

“I ate earlier.” 

“It’s not just that Jaehyun.” Younghoon adds, and Jaehyun holds back a groan, dreading the coming conversation. “What’s gotten into you?” Jaehyun shrugs. And he can’t help but notice how sad Younghoon sounds when he says: “You aren’t yourself around her.” 

Jaehyun drops his spoon, placing his hands on his knees. “I just don’t trust her Younghoon. Something about her unsettles me.” 

Younghoon takes another sip of his soup. “You’re entitled to your judgement, but that does not mean you’re entitled to treat her so rudely. I just want the two of you to make peace. And believe it or not, she wants to make peace too.” 

Jaehyun huffs; he doesn’t feel like giving in easily tonight. “If the Gift wants to make peace, then let her make it.” 

“She’s already tried. And if you must call her something, she prefers Fortitude.” 

“Fortitude isn’t a name—”

“Neither is Gift.”

“— it’s a title, Younghoon.” 

“And what would you do if a title was the only name you had?” 

Jaehyun bites the inside of his cheek, mumbling, “but what if it’s not the only name she has?”

Younghoon shakes his head in frustration. “Jaehyun, I can only advise you to make peace. It’s up to you whether you do or not.” 

And with that Younghoon leaves from the dining room. Jaehyun finishes the rest of his dinner alone. 

—THE GIFT OF FORTITUDE—

You were unhappy. You didn’t want to be at Lord Jaehyun’s estate in these strange southern lands. You did not want to be somewhere you were unwelcome. Even before your return to the Golden Palace, you never traveled too far away from the King’s City. The thought of being so far away from the lands you’re used to calling home makes your skin itch. 

There’s a knock on your door. You open it to a young servant girl. “Lady Gift, Lord Jaehyun is asking if you would like to accompany him on a walk to the beach.” 

You wonder for a second if this is some sort of joke. You can’t imagine Jaehyun waking up and deciding he wants to spend time with you willingly. Then you suspect if Younghoon put him up to it. 

“You can tell him I’m coming and that I’ll meet him by the back gates.” 

You get dressed quickly and walk down the estate to the gates. When you arrive, Lord Jaehyun is already waiting, facing away from the estate and towards the grassy path. 

“Lord Jaehyun.” 

He nods at your greeting, and the walk begins in silence. 

“You seem to already know your way around the estate.” Jaehyun mentions by the time the grass and sand have begun to mix under your feet. 

“Younghoon gave me a very thorough tour this morning.” 

Jaehyun laughs but it sounds small and strained. “Yes, Younghoon is not the type to spare any details.” 

You settle back into a silence. You’re surprised with how civil the walk has been so far, and you duly note how this might be the first time Jaehyun hasn’t stared at you hatefully. With another look at the boy, you find that his eyes—when they aren’t filled with anger—are actually quite kind. You also find beauty in the way the sunlight bounces off them. You smile. 

“Lord Jaehyun,” you address softly, “did Younghoon put you up to this?” 

He chuckles, and instead of answering your question, he says: “Lady Gift, I would like to apologize for how I treated you these past couple days. I am not used to the happenings of the Golden Palace. I was shocked. But that’s no excuse for how I acted. I’m sorry. I truly am.”

For the second time that day, you’re surprised, and not only because Jaehyun is apologizing but also because of how sincerely he sounds saying it. 

“Thank you, Lord Jaehyun.” 

He shakes his head. “It’s the least I could do, Lady Gift. But I hope you accept this as an apology for my behavior as well, and that you find it in you to forgive me.” 

You nod. “I’ll forgive you if you agree to drop the formalities.” 

Jaehyun claps his hands. “Doesn’t seem like you’re getting nearly as much out of this arrangement as I am, but I accept nonetheless.” He stops walking and holds out his hand. “Do we have an agreement?” 

You shake his outstretched hand. “I suppose we do.” 

He smiles, and you’re shocked for the third time that day. Shocked that the man before you is the same one you met at the Golden Palace. The same man whose hatred for you was so strong you could have sensed it across a room. The same man who is taking you on this walk and no longer calling you Gift. Shocked that Jaehyun is the one to make the peace you wanted so badly. 

You find yourself to be smiling too. 

“Come on,” Jaehyun says, continuing the walk, “I think it’s about time you saw the sea.” 

You both continue down the now sandy path. You admire the way Jaehyun so easily walks in the sand. You, on the other hand, struggle to adapt to your feet sinking and shifting in the ground beneath you. 

Jaehyun tells you that walking in the sand will get easier with time. It takes a moment for you to register the fact that he noticed. 

“Wow,” is all you can say at the blue expanse before you. You think Roen was right. The paintings do not do justice to the sea. The paintings were unable to capture the real thing. 

“You said that blue is your favorite shade of the Zalazar River right?” 

Your smile widens. “Yes, but this…” you motion to the water, “this is even better.” 

Jaehyun hums triumphantly. “Accept this as a peace offering.” 

“Oh Jaehyun, we have already bargained and made peace.” 

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you’re actually terrible at bargaining.” He laughs. “That deal was far too uneven for me to accept with dignity. So please, accept this instead.” 

“I was not aware you knew how to make a joke.” You tease. 

“Please,” he repeats, sounding suddenly serious. 

You tilt your head. “I also was not aware the sea was yours to give as peace offerings.” 

“It’s not.” He bites back a smile. “But it is yours to take.” 

You think for a moment. And when the next wave crashes into the shore, you nod.

***

You send a message with the Risal to Roen that night. 

Dear Roen, I hope things at the palace are doing well. You were right. The sea is so much more than I thought. The sea is something else entirely. Give everyone my love. -Fortitude 

—LORD JAEHYUN—

Jaehyun is sitting at his desk. He has piles of papers to sort through, file, fill out, and sign, and yet he can’t seem to focus on the small amount of work he’s obliged to do as a Lord. Instead he’s focused on the view outside the window of his office which overlooks the courtyard. More specifically, he focuses on the way you sit at the edge of the fountain teasing a stray cat with a loose string. Suddenly, you look towards the sky and stick your arm out. A bird swoops down from nowhere and perches itself on your extended forearm. Jaehyun wonders if your abilities as a Gift include an inclination towards animals. The bird drops an envelope in your lap; you read the cover before setting it down beside you. Jaehyun squints at the scene and recognizes the bird as your Risal. This piques his interest. 

“Younghoon,” Jaehyun calls out. Younghoon tends to keep Jaehyun company while he works, reading a book in the corner armchair. But when Jaehyun is met with silence, he looks over to find the book closed on his lap and Younghoon fast asleep. Jaehyun covers Younghoon with a blanket and exits his office silently. He figures he might as well go for a walk if he isn’t going to get any work done. 

When he finds you in the courtyard, the cat has settled down in your lap, and the Risal sits on the stretch of fountain ledge next to you. You seem to sense Jaehyun behind you before he bothers to make his presence known. 

“Have you already finished your work Jaehyun?” You ask, not turning around to face him. He walks the circumference of the fountain before stopping a little before you and answering. 

“Not exactly.” He sits down on the fountain ledge next to the Risal. 

“Well,” you mumble scratching a place behind the cat’s ear, “I suppose now is as good a time for a break as any.” 

“Yes, I thought so too.” Jaehyun responds, more focused on the bird in front of him. “Can I pet it?”

You nod. You advise him to start at the beak until the bird trusts him. It doesn’t take long for the bird to nuzzle under his palm. 

“It likes you.” you say, sounding a little shocked. “Winning a Risal’s trust usually takes much longer.” 

Jaehyun smiles shyly. The two of you settle into a silence. You scratching the stray cat to sleep and Jaehyun running his hand along the bird in awe. It had become like that between you two. There was never much conversation and yet somehow the silences you shared never felt empty or weird. Jaehyun isn’t sure if he can truly trust you, but he does know he was wrong about you. You’re no monster. In fact, you’re just as human as him and Younghoon. 

“How do they work?” Jaehyun wonders, looking up from the bird. “The Risals.”

You sit up slightly. “Would you like to see?” 

He nods. You set the cat down on the ground and beckon for Jaehyun to stand up as well. 

You collect the Risal on your arm and start walking away from him. “Move farther away.” You tell him. “It won’t work if we’re too close.” 

Once you are the entire length of the courtyard apart, you nod in approval and say something Jaehyun can’t hear to the bird. The bird suddenly launches itself from your arm and soars into the sky. Jaehyun closely watches how the Risal disappears behind the clouds. 

You cup your hands around your mouth and shout from across the courtyard: “When you hear a bird’s screech, hold out your arm.” 

Jaehyun waits a moment. Eventually the screech comes, and Jaehyun thinks how you forgot to mention how loud it would be. The screech makes him jump and clasp his arms over his ears. You don't even flinch. Jaehyun looks to see if the cat is spooked and finds that the cat is still peacefully asleep on the ground. Out of the corner his eye, he sees you pointing wildly at his arm. Jaehyun quickly sticks it out. He looks up at the sky only to see the Risal already swooping down and landing neatly on his arm. His mouth opens in shock. 

“Now,” you yell, “tell it to go to me.” 

Jaehyun looks the Risal in the eye. He wonders if this is all some elaborate joke. The bird couldn’t possibly understand him if he were to speak to it, right? Then he wonders if he’s mad for believing that it can. He inhales. 

“Go to the Gift of Fortitude.” 

And Jaehyun swears the Risal seems to nod before leaping off his arm and flying straight up into the sky once more. He watches the sky keenly, and then also covers his ears with his hands in anticipation of the screech. It never comes. Instead, the bird dives down from the sky, calming landing on your outstretched arm. Jaehyun runs to you immediately.  

“How come there was no screech this time?” Jaehyun asks breathlessly, meeting you at your end of the courtyard. 

“There was.” You say simply, petting the bird. Jaehyun furrows his brows. “The screech is only heard by the one who the Risal is meant for.” It clicks for Jaehyun then why you didn’t flinch and why the cat is still in a ball by the fountain. 

“So,” Jaehyun says slowly, “how does the Risal understand the name you tell it?”

You shrug. 

“What if you get the name wrong? Or there’s multiple people with that name?”

You shrug again. “They’re never wrong though, in my experiences at least. It’s almost as if they understand the intent more than the name itself.”

“And the way it just disappears into the sky?” 

“Remarkable isn’t it?”

Jaehyun smiles at the child-like excitement in your voice. He nods. “They must be incredibly smart creatures.” 

“They’re not just smart.” You begin scratching a spot under the Risal’s beak. The bird melts under your touch. “They’re magical.”

—THE GIFT OF FORTITUDE—

Dear Fortitude, I thought you’d like the sea. Things at the palace are as fine as can be. Orindell misses you dearly. I’ll keep you updated on Father and other palace occurrings. Although in all honesty, things have been quiet since your departure. I hope you’re resting well and enjoying the southern scenery despite the circumstances. Give my regards to Captain Younghoon and Lord Jaehyun. -Roen 

—LORD JAEHYUN—

“The service was long today.” Jaehyun states exiting the temple with Younghoon and you. The southern temples, unlike the palace temple, were old and traditionally built. This temple in particular had been built long before the Holy Wars. 

“I didn’t think so.” Younghoon says, swatting a hand around his face to shoo away a bug. “What did you think?” 

But when they look over at you, you appear to be somewhere else altogether. Suddenly, you still. 

 “Is that a…” you begin, your voice small, unbelieving. 

Jaehyun follows your gaze to a building at the top of the hill behind the temple. He follows your gaze to the sanctuary. You start walking towards the hill before Jaehyun and Younghoon can stop you. 

The sanctuary hasn’t been used in years, and the state of it shocks Jaehyun. In fact, the sanctuary itself shocks Jaehyun. He’s never been inside one. His knowledge of them was limited to what he had seen and read in textbooks growing up. Before the Holy Wars, all temples used to have sanctuaries nearby. They were built in honor of the Seven Sins and Seven Gifts of the Spirit. Sculptures were meant to line the walls of the sanctuaries, seven on the left for the Sins and seven on the right for the Gifts. And at the front of the sanctuaries, a sculpture of Maratelli the archangel was meant to stand tall. However after the Holy Wars, most sanctuaries were destroyed by mobs. People no longer felt the need to pay their respects to the beings who started the war that nearly destroyed the kingdom. The few sanctuaries that weren’t burned to the ground were left vandalized, most of the sculptures reduced to rubble. 

The sanctuary Jaehyun, Younghoon, and you stand in is no exception. Cobwebs cover all the walls and a thick layer of dust clouds everything in sight. The sanctuary is hauntingly cold and damp. Only two sculptures are left standing: Maratelli’s, whose arms and wings have been broken off, and one of the Gifts. Upon closer examination, Jaehyun finds that the other standing sculpture is the one dedicated to you, the Gift of Fortitude. The face of the sculpture is gone as if someone chipped away at the stone until the contours of the face disappeared. And on top of the blank stone where the face should be, die is written in black paint and monster is written on the torso. The sight makes Jaehyun sick to the stomach. 

But that’s not where Jaehyun finds you. Instead, Jaehyun and Younghoon find you kneeling on the floor next to the broken stone of what once was a sculpture dedicated to the Sin of Pride. Jaehyun helplessly realizes the tragedy that must litter your past in the way that everyone you once knew died before your eyes. You bow your head to the floor and sob. Jaehyun feels like an intruder in this moment, as if he’s watching something personal and private, something not meant for his eyes. The broken marble you bury your face into does little to conceal the pain in your sobs, and Jaehyun can’t help the way his heart aches at the sheer amount of heartbreak that rings from your cries. 

Jaehyun and Younghoon decide to wait for you outside. 

—THE GIFT OF FORTITUDE—

“If I may ask, when was the last time you had a worthy opponent?” Younghoon asks, breaking the silence of your lunch. Only you and Younghoon were present today. 

You think it over for a moment. It's been a while since you’ve fought anyone. Even while training Juyeon and the Princes, you never fought them yourself. “The Holy Wars most likely.” 

Younghoon nods, placing a hand under his chin. “Not that I would make one, but one of these days could we fight?”

You suck in a breath. Younghoon’s question feels foreign in your mind. “I’m not so sure that’s a good idea.”

“Just a friendly scuffle?” 

“I don’t—“ 

“Or perhaps a sword fight?”

“I’m afraid I’ll hurt you.”

“We could set up rules to prevent such, and I can take a little pain. I might be retired but—”

“No, Younghoon.” You cut him off. “I don’t want to fight you.” 

He shrinks back into his seat. “Forgive me. But…” he hesitates, “can I ask why not?” 

You sigh. “I don’t fight for pleasure anymore.” 

***

The sea is quieter than usual and the waves crash in whispers the day you and Younghoon go for a walk along the shore. You had quickly adapted to the way your feet sink in the sand; and today, you find comfort in it.  

It’s also the day that Younghoon reveals his plans to head home soon. You hadn’t even considered the possibility that this wasn’t Younghoon’s home. He explains how his family lives farther east and how he splits his time between Jaehyun’s estate and his own home, travelling back and forth frequently. And when you question why he even bothers returning to Jaehyun’s estate, why he bothers leaving home, Younghoon laughs loudly and explains that Jaehyun pays him good money to stay and keep him company. You also hadn’t realized that this was Younghoon’s job. 

—LORD JAEHYUN—

“Don’t you think it’s a little desperate to pay Younghoon to leave his family and keep you company?” You tease as you and Jaehyun wave goodbye to Younghoon.

Jaehyun scoffs, side eyeing Younghoon’s retreating figure. “Is that what he told you?” You nod. “I’ll have you know he was staying for free before I insisted on him accepting the money.” 

You laugh, and Jaehyun notices the way your eyes crinkle. “Yes, yes. I figured as much.”   

The young servant girl appears then, asking Jaehyun if anything more is needed. Jaehyun tells her she can go home for the day, and she flushes a dark red. Jaehyun notices how you notice. 

And when the servant girl leaves, Jaehyun watches the way you smile, your lips concealing a secret.

“Fortitude,” he blurts, “would you like to go on a walk with me?” 

***

“What’s her name? The young servant girl?” You ask as you both start along the path towards the beach. 

“Vina.”

“And how old is she?”

“15 come winter I believe.”

You nod slowly, a smile similar to the one before growing on your face. “It’s cute, how smitten she is by you.” 

Jaehyun bites his bottom lip. “I don’t mean to make her…” He trails off, unable to find the right words. 

“Smile less.” 

Jaehyun quirks his head, looking up at you. “My smile…?”

You nod. “It’s your smile she falls for.” 

Jaehyun lets the statement sink, and the wind seems to pick up while he does. A sound faintly resembling a growl comes from you. He looks over to find you struggling to keep your hair at bay, the dark locks flying wildly in the wind. 

You huff, annoyed. “I didn’t bring anything to tie it back with.” 

“You could braid it.” Jaehyun suggests.

You run a hand through your hair in another attempt to push it back. “How terrible is it that I never learned how to braid it myself?” 

Jaehyun blinks at you. You pick at a spot below your chin. 

“Don’t laugh.” you stutter, but it’s too late because Jaehyun is already chuckling behind his hand. You shove him, hard. 

“Would you like me to braid it for you?” 

You look at him, your hair unattractively covering your face. You push it back, determining whether Jaehyun’s offer is genuine or not. 

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

Your shoulders drop. “Yes please.” 

Jaehyun moves behind you, gathering your hair in his hands and beginning to braid it. 

“Where’d you learn how to braid anyways?” You ask, voice raised to be heard against the wind. 

“My sister, Insia, would make me braid her hair sometimes.” 

You shove a loose strand behind your ear. “I didn’t know you had a sister.” 

“She’s illegitime. Technically, we both are. My father never married.” 

“Where is she?” You wonder aloud as Jaehyun finishes the braid off. 

“She married an islander, gave up her ladyship to do so, and now lives there with him.” Jaehyun allows his eyes to drift towards the sea. Islands were peppered all along the coast, and the island Insia and her husband and kids lived on was only a couple hours from here by boat. Jaehyun made sure they visited each other often enough, and wrote to each other even more frequently. 

“It must be nice.” You mutter, focused on knotting the end of your braid. “To have a sibling.” 

And Jaehyun swears he’s never heard anyone sound so lonely. 

—THE GIFT OF FORTITUDE—

The walks along the shore had become a daily activity for you and Jaehyun, but today Jaehyun was busy which left you helplessly bored and laying in your bed staring at the ceiling. Your mind had begun to wander to Peter and his impossible journey, to Juyeon and your forgotten conversation, to the King and his future plans, and to Lord Seth. Maybe the King was smart to send you here after all, being far away from the Golden Palace made you forget why you were sent here to begin with. It was easy to ignore the gravity of the palace issues here at Jaehyun’s estate. It was easy to push aside the fog in your mind when you thought about your past. It was almost too easy to throw your worries into the sea and watch them crash against the rocks. 

So when Vina walks in with a fresh load of laundry, you don't hesitate to ask if the young girl would care to accompany you on a walk. And when Vina agrees, you’re grateful that you’ve found a distraction. 

When you ask why Vina works, you learn that she is the oldest of seven. You frown at the thought of Vina's wages going all to her family, but she’s quick to tell you not to worry. Apparently Jaehyun pays the estate staff well. The thought makes you smile. A question arises at the faint blush appearing on Vina’s cheeks. You hesitate a little. 

“Vina, do you happen to have a crush on Lord Jaehyun?” 

Vina freezes like a deer. “Oh Lady Gift, it isn’t like that please don’t misunderstand.” She shakes her head vigorously. “It’s just that… Lord Jaehyun has shown me nothing but kindness and I-“ She cuts herself off, fidgeting with her fingers. You assure her that it’s okay. Vina continues unsurely. “It’s just that it’s hard to not direct my feeling of gratitude in that way.” 

“And,” you hum, nudging her shoulder, “I’m sure it doesn’t help how handsome Lord Jaehyun is.” 

An embarrassed smile emerges on Vina’s face, and it turns almost mischievous when she says: “I would like it to go on record that I was not the one who said it.” 

You erupt in laughter. 

***

If you knew Vina wasn’t skilled in the art of keeping things to herself, you wouldn’t have admitted to the young girl your thoughts of Jaehyun’s face. But alas, you had, and there was nothing you could do to stop the gossiping of a young girl. It was just your luck that Jaehyun took it upon himself to tease you for the admission endlessly. 

The day the teasing stops is the day you want nothing more than to shoot an arrow. 

To your dismay, Jaehyun’s estate does not house an archery gallery. But when Jaehyun learns of your desire, he offers an alternative. So with the bow and arrow you brought from the Golden Palace and wooden plates acting as targets held up by Jaehyun himself, your wish is granted. 

You notch an arrow and breathe, taking note of the wind shift before letting the arrow fly. It hits the plate exactly where you had sent it. 

“So is it safe to assume that archery is another gift you have as a Gift?” Jaehyun shouts to you from across the beach, pulling the arrow from out the plate and dropping it in a pile. 

“Yes, it is.” You respond, grabbing another arrow from beside you. You take notice of how nonchalantly Jaehyun stands. “Are you not frightened by me shooting arrows towards a target that lies in your hand?” 

He shrugs. “Well, are you scared?” 

You’re taken aback by the question, but you aren’t scared. The arrow would land only where you wanted it to. 

“No.”

“Then why should I be.” Jaehyun says easily, holding the target back up. “Also, I know you’d never purposely hurt me.” He adds with a coy smile. “You think I’m too handsome.” 

You string the arrow in less than a second, aiming straight for Jaehyun’s face. “What was that?” 

A giggling Jaehyun cowers behind the target and runs. 

***

Sleep doesn’t come to you that night. Your mind runs wild with thoughts of the Golden Palace. You think and overthink the events that led up to Peter being sent away and then again the ones that led up to Lord Seth’s untimely death. You find that the memories slip past your fingers, a fog encompassing them. The same fog that clouds your memories of the past. It appears that your mind houses more fog than actual memories.  It appears that the fog is driving you mad. 

You elect to think of something new. Your eyes land on the Risal from Roen you have yet to respond to. You would’ve sent one back sooner if the line about Orindell didn’t make you so upset. You reluctantly recall your last conversation with him. He was still the same foolish little boy you have always known. You suppose that’s what makes your falling out so heartbreaking. You have known all three princes from the moment they were born. You raised them alongside Roe, their mother and your dearest friend, and when Roe passed, you raised them like they were your own family. Not exactly like a mother, but something more akin to a cousin or an aunt. The three princes were the closest thing you had to a family, and the thought that Orindell could love you romantically repulsed you. You were mad at Orindell, disappointed in him, and yet, you still miss him as much as you miss Roen and Peter. You long to talk with the three princes like you once did, before Orindell loved you and before they were old enough to concern themselves with the state of the kingdom and the state of their own father. And this time, the longing is what drives you mad.   

You decide that thinking will only lead to misery tonight, and with a glance at the full moon outside your window, you also decide a walk must be better than lying here, drowning in your own thoughts. You pull on a pair slippers before silently exiting your room. 

The beach is quiet tonight. The waves tease and kiss the shore and then disappear back into the sea. While you walk, you think about all the ways the sea has shown itself to you. You only realize how far you’ve walked when you reach the rocks. 

You were told about the rocky cliffs that laid a little to the west of Jaehyun’s estate by Jaehyun, Younghoon, and Vina. But you had never walked so far with either of them to see them yourself. 

The waves don’t seem larger here, but they crash against the rocks as if they are. The waves and the rocks clash like two forces in battle. Somehow the image and the sound bring a bit of comfort to the battle raging in your mind. 

Where you stand, the rocks are scattered, but further along the beach, the rocks multiply and gather until they completely cover the sand. The rocks start flat and then pile on top of each other until you’re staring at the rocky cliffs you have heard so much about. You think you like this rocky beach more than the sandy one you’ve grown accustomed to. 

You stiffen when you notice a figure sitting on one of the flat rocks. The person looks tired in the way they sit with their shoulders dropped and dragging, and yet the person is so captivated by the sea they don’t even notice you coming. Upon closer examination, you realize that you recognize the figure sitting alone on the rocks. Your guard drops when you realize the person is Jaehyun. 

“Jaehyun,” you say, appearing behind him, carefully walking towards where he sits on the rocks.

“Ah, Fortitude.” He doesn’t flinch at your appearance. He doesn’t even bother taking his eyes off the water. “Couldn’t sleep?”

You hum. “And you?” 

He shakes his head. “Younghoon calls this spot the insomniac's bed.” 

“Do you come here often then?”

“Nearly every night.” He looks away from the sea and stares at you still standing behind him.“Please,” he stutters, patting a dry patch of rock next to him, “sit.” You do.

“Is it safe to jump into the water from there?” You ask suddenly. 

You wait for Jaehyun to follow your eyes. “Ah, from the cliff?” You nod. “It isn’t safe to jump from most cliffs. There could be rocks in the water, or if the waves are too strong they could push you back against the base of the cliff.” 

“Yes, but what about this cliff?” 

Jaehyun sighs, although he doesn’t sound tired or frustrated. “They call that cliff Angel’s Peak.” 

“Why?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Because you’ll need the wings of an angel to survive it.” 

“Oh.” You don't think about it any further. 

The two of you don’t speak, the waves that crash against the rocks do that for you. You let the sound overwhelm you, feeling more peace and more clarity than you’ve felt in years. 

As a Gift of the Spirit, you lived longer than most, and part of your powers allow you to stay young. You could though, grow old. You could wake up one day and decide to start aging again. You could let herself wrinkle and grey like everyone else. But after King Avi died, after the last person who knew you as more than just a Gift stopped aging, you did too. You have been told that even though your face doesn’t show your age, your eyes do. It’s been said that your eyes tell the story of all the years you’ve endured. 

You study Jaehyun. This must be it, you think. This must be what people see when they look at your eyes because when you look at Jaehyun’s, you can see the life he’s endured behind them. You can see the age behind the brown. You wonder what Jaehyun must be thinking in this moment to make his life appear so long and sad. You wonder how Jaehyun manages to feel like an equal to you despite your life being so much longer. You wonder—

“How old are you?”

If Jaehyun’s shocked by the sudden question, he doesn’t show it. “As old as Peter,” then with a sigh he adds, “but I feel as old as you.” 

And with the way Jaehyun says it, as if he holds mountains on his shoulders, you believe him. 

“Well, maybe not as old as you,” Jaehyun continues, talking quickly as if he misspoke. “I just meant that I feel old. Or at least older than I am.” 

“No,” you mumble, picking at a loose strand, “I think I understand.”

“Can I ask you a question then?” 

“Depends.” 

Jaehyun waits a beat as if he’s testing the words on his tongue first. “How old are you?”

You inhale. “Too old, Jaehyun.” 

He doesn’t ask you to explain any further, but when you think about the years behind Jaehyun’s eyes, something in you yearns to tell him more anyways. 

“It’s a lonely thing to do,” you continue, eyes trained on the water, “to get old but not grow old.” 

“So then why don’t you?” 

“These days, I’m not so sure.” You meet Jaehyun’s gaze, and suddenly you feel as tired as you do old. 

“Good night, Jaehyun,” you tell him, standing up, “I hope sleep comes to you soon.” 

*** 

Dear Roen, I miss the old days. Why did you boys have to grow so old? Why did things have to get so difficult? Keep me updated on palace news, but spare me the court’s gossip. I worry about Peter too much for my own good. Tell me if you hear anything from him. Tell Orindell that I miss him too, but that I’ve missed him long before I left the Golden Palace. -Fortitude

—LORD JAEHYUN—

The wind was softer and the sun hid behind the clouds more often after that night at the rocks. It was hard for Jaehyun to explain, but after that day, something had changed. You let him in, and suddenly, things were different. You would ask Jaehyun to braid your hair again, and he’d do it with a smile. He found himself craving more.

So when he asks you if you were born as a Gift of the Spirit, he knows he’s been thinking about the question long before he felt comfortable enough to ask it. 

“No.” You tell him, kicking your feet in the sand. “I was born normal. Just like anyone else.” 

“Oh,” Jaehyun says softly. 

“It happened when I was six.” You continue. “The other six Gifts came to my village, told me I was destined to be Fortitude, and that was that.” 

“Six?” Jaehyun repeats, saddened by how young you were. You nod. “You never got to be a kid.” 

Your mouth twitches. “Yeah.”

And when the frown that appears on your lips pulls at a certain part of Jaehyun, he decides he wants to help you take back a little piece of your stolen past. “Tell me something you wish you could’ve done.” 

You squint at him. 

“As a child, what’s one thing you wish you could’ve done?” 

You exhale deeply. “Oh, I don’t know.” You pause, then laugh a little. “I guess, run.” 

It was Jaehyun’s turn to squint. “Run?”

“I mean to run like a child. Barefoot and wild and mad.” 

Jaehyun starts pulling his shoes off. 

“Well,” Jaehyun states when you give him a blank stare, “are you going to run with me or what?”

Slowly, you begin pulling your boots off too. Then once you’re both barefoot, feet sinking in the cold sand, Jaehyun nods, and 

you run. 

By the time you stop, the air has emptied itself from Jaehyun’s lungs. You, on the other hand, glow with something Jaehyun can’t put his finger on, but you glow and smile so brightly Jaehyun thinks the numbness in his legs is worth it. 

Jaehyun only realizes you’ve run as far as the rocks when you start climbing up to the top of Angel’s Peak. Jaehyun begrudgingly climbs up the cliff behind you. 

When you finally reach the top, Jaehyun sits, exhausted and lets his legs dangle over the edge. He inhales, refilling his lungs with the sea’s salty mist. 

Jaehyun loves the sea. He loves the water. It’s almost as if the water is a part of him, as if the salty sea carries his heart between the waves. And somehow the water loves Jaehyun back. Insia used to call him a mermaid because of how well he swims, and at one point, Jaehyun had convinced himself he was. Jaehyun feels at home by the sea. He feels peace listening to the seagulls and the lapping water. If time allowed it, Jaehyun would spend years staring at the blue water. 

Today however, sitting on top of the rocky cliffs with the Gift of Fortitude, Jaehyun doesn’t watch the sun dip into the ocean and disappear beyond the horizon. Today Jaehyun watches you. He watches how you seem to be smiling without a smile. He watches the water spray on your forehead and the scrunch of your nose when it does. He watches stories of a kingdom before his birth and of people he will never meet unfold behind your eyes. He wonders how much time he could spend staring at you. 

You meet his eyes, and Jaehyun doesn’t think he’s ever seen you look so happy. Yet for some reason, when your lips do turn up in a smile, all he can think of is the image of you at the sanctuary. How you knelt on the floor and clutched the crushed marble belonging to the Sin of Pride. All he can think of is the soul-crushing amount of hurt in your cries. 

Jaehyun hesitates. 

“Who was the Sin of Pride to you?” 

In that moment, the seagulls seem to turn quiet, and the waves seem to pause a second away from hitting the rocks. Jaehyun thinks he’s gone too far or that he’s asked you too much. In that moment, Jaehyun wants to swallow the words back. But before he can, the seagulls break their silence, screeching somewhere in the clouds. And the waves don’t just hit the rocks, they slam and bang and beat against them. Jaehyun coughs the words up before he can take them back. Your lips part, and Jaehyun’s forced to watch as a new story unfolds behind your eyes, one of youth, loss, hurt, and hate. And then you surprise him by smiling. 

“The Sin of Pride,” you start tucking your knees under your chin, “was my best friend before I was a Gift and he was a Sin. His name was Sunwoo, and we grew up in the same village. He was announced as the Sin of Pride a week before I was.” 

Jaehyun repeats the name in his mind. Then once outloud. You blink as if it’s weird to hear it said by someone else. It sparks Jaehyun’s curiosity, and he wonders aloud if you had a name before Fortitude. 

“I did, but I’m no longer the person that name was given to.” You say, voice low and cold. 

“Forgive me if I intruded.” 

You shake your head. “You asked. There’s a difference.” 

He turns his eyes to the water. “Is it hard to remember?” 

“Usually.” You tell him with a small pout. Then after a pause you add: “When I think about the past, there’s this fog, and that fog makes remembering painful. In fact the headache I had the morning we first met was caused by trying to remember something the night before. But right now, the fog in my mind isn’t so thick; right now, I’m not struggling to remember.” 

Jaehyun listens to you speak intently. He doesn’t want to push you, but he can’t help his own curiosity. So when Jaehyun hears an invitation laced within the tone of your voice. Jaehyun realizes that some part of you wants to remember as much as Jaehyun wants to know. 

And so, he says: “Tell me about your past.”

And you do. 

You tell Jaehyun about the village you grew up in and your parents. You describe to him how different and peaceful the kingdom was under the reign of the Queen Raffa who ruled when you were young. You tell him about Sunwoo and the week he was taken. Then, you tell him about the week you were taken yourself. 

“Back then, all the Sins and Gifts were adored by the people, they were loved.” You recall, and Jaehyun can’t help but notice the jealousy that seeps between the crack in your voice. “They rode with such confidence and were respected by the people. So respected that my mother didn’t even hesitate to let them take me away.” This time sadness is what seeps through the crack.  

“Where’d they take you?” 

You halt at Jaehyun’s question. “I don’t remember,” you say slowly as if you aren’t sure of the words leaving your own mouth. “The next thing I do remember is arriving at the Golden Palace, but by then, they had already made me the Gift of Fortitude.”

“How do you mean?”

“I’m not sure.” You scratch at your chin. “And now that I think about it, it must’ve been at least a year between when I left my family to when I was taken to the Golden Palace.” 

Jaehyun turns to you, wondering how you could possibly lose an entire year of memory, and then wondering how terrible it must be for you knowing that you have. 

“Did you get to see your family again?” 

You shake your head. “My mother fought and died in the Holy Wars. I saw my father once, after it was all over, but he wanted nothing to do with me anymore. He wanted nothing to do with the person who was on the side of the war his wife died fighting against.” 

“But what about the fact that you're his daughter?”

You bite your bottom lip. “At that point, he no longer saw me as his daughter.”

Jaehyun can’t imagine how much it must hurt to admit, especially considering how much it hurts Jaehyun to even hear. 

“But it was okay, because I never really knew my father and because I had Sunwoo and later Avi too.” You tell Jaehyun with a smile. “By the time Sunwoo and I became Sins and Gifts, the two groups were already fighting; they just hadn’t made it into a war yet. Raffa went as far as having the Gifts and Sins stay in opposite wings of the Golden Palace to avoid confrontation. Sunwoo and I used to sneak out to the palace roof at nights just to talk. But then,” your smile turns down, “Raffa was killed.”

Jaehyun knows this part although you repeat the story written in textbooks anyways. The Queen was murdered under an order from the Gifts, and by the time her son, Avi, took the throne, the Seven Gifts had fled from the palace, marking the start of the Holy Wars.

“I didn’t see Sunwoo much after that. The next and last time I saw him was right before he died.” You continue. 

“Is that why you switched sides?” 

You nod. “As Sins and Gifts, we’re gifted with fighting skill, but our injuries are fatal. That’s how most of the Sins and Gifts died during the Holy Wars. So when I heard news that Sunwoo had been injured, I knew it was only a matter of time until he would be dead too. He was being nursed inside the Golden Palace, and as a Gift, I wasn’t allowed in. So King Avi struck me a deal. Avi said that if I protected him and stayed loyal to him until his death, he would allow me to come to the palace and see Sunwoo.”

You stop to breathe. Jaehyun doesn’t say anything, but you watch him as if you’re waiting for him too. Jaehyun thinks it’s wrong, what King Avi did. Jaehyun thinks he had no right to make you indebted to him. Somehow, you seem to sense what Jaehyun’s thinking. 

“It’s easy to point blame, but in reality, the line between right and wrong and between good intentions and bad ones are more blurred than they appear. Avi wasn’t much older than me. Avi watched his mother die in the wake of this conflict between the Sins and Gifts, a conflict he had nothing to do with. Avi was as young and as desperate and as scared as I was, only he was the King. By then, I was only 13. I didn’t know much better. I was desperate and more scared of losing my best friend over the trust of the last remaining Gift so… I accepted. I sacrificed everything to watch Sunwoo take his dying breath.” 

Through the memories you share with him, Jaehyun begins to understand. He learns more about the Holy Wars through your pain and fear than he ever did in his history lessons. But most of all, Jaehyun understands that you were too young to shoulder the weight of war. 

“When the last remaining Gift other than me died, I gave up the war. I ended five years of wasted blood and pointless death just like that.” You pick at the sand under your nail. “I never liked the war. I was never even told what we were fighting for until the war was over.” You say, and if you can tell how surprised Jaehyun is to hear that you didn't even know the reason for the Holy Wars, you ignore it. “I fought blindly, and I surrendered blindly too.” 

Jaehyun stays silent, but his mind runs wild. How many days did you spend on a battlefield? How many lives did you take? How much blood did you allow to shed for a cause you didn’t even know? 

“Do you regret it?” He asks, focused on the water because at that moment Jaehyun can’t trust himself to look at you. 

You’re quiet. 

“I regret it all.” 

The image of you weeping in the sanctuary appears in Jaehyun’s mind again. He hears something new in his memory of your cries. He hears regret. 

The small part of Jaehyun that’s upset with you dissolves the moment he looks over and sees the regret that darkens your eyes. In that moment, Jaehyun can’t manage to feel anything but pity towards the person next to him. 

“It's terrible what I did.” You say solemnly. “I sat idly by while half the kingdom died before my eyes. I know that people call me a monster, and how can I say that I’m not when I’m responsible for the deaths of so many?” You look at him, but Jaehyun feels frozen because he can’t seem to let go of the fact that you were only 13 when this all happened. 

“Fortitude,” Jaehyun says gently with all the love he can muster. Love to make up for the hate you so deeply feel. Not towards anyone, not towards the world. But the shocking amount of hate you feel towards yourself. “No part of you is a monster. Because the Holy Wars were not your fault. And because it never will be.” 

Jaehyun can see something in you come apart. Jaehyun can see the deep-rooted hate you have harbored for yourself escape from the corners of your eyes. 

And when Jaehyun says, “The sins of your predecessors are not yours to suffer,” he swears he hears something within you break.

You both stare at the sea in a deafening silence. It’s a long time before anyone speaks again. But by the time Jaehyun does say something, the heavy air has been taken away by the current. 

“Although I’m still curious,” you motion for Jaehyun to continue, “what did the Holy Wars turn out to be about?” 

You close your eyes and keep them closed for longer than Jaehyun can call normal. When you do open your eyes again, they’re angry, and there’s just a hint of venom in your voice when you say: “I can’t remember.” 

You throw your hands up. “Oh Jaehyun, there’s so much I don’t know. About this kingdom and its history. About me and what it means to be a Gift of the Spirit. I don’t even know if there was a Gift of Fortitude before me. All of these things I was supposed to learn from the other Gifts. They were meant to teach me and mentor me, but they were too concerned with their own conflict. They left me with so many unanswered questions and unsolved mysteries. Half of which concern myself. Maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as it is if Avi didn’t have all the libraries burned to the ground and all of the historic scrolls and teachings from the Elders reduced to ashes with it. Maybe then I wouldn’t feel so lost.”

Jaehyun halts. “It was King Avi?” He questions in disbelief, remembering the mysterious burnings of all the libraries in the kingdom except for the one residing in the Golden Palace. “King Avi was the one who set fires to the libraries?”

“Oh, right,” you sigh, “I forgot that was a secret.” And in the next moment, you’re nearly laughing. “You know Jaehyun, I’ve never told anyone these things before.”

Jaehyun tilts his head to the side. “Why not?”

“No one’s ever asked.”

Jaehyun watches the waves. He finds a picture of himself in the waves and one of you in the rocks. For he appears and is tall, grand, rolling, and proud, but then he crashes and disappears back into the murky waters. And the rocky cliffs watch it all happen. You are the cliff, still and unyielding; while Jaehyun is just another wave, there in the moment and gone in the next.

“Did you love him?” Jaehyun asks then, the image of the wave crashing against the rock replaying in his mind. 

“Sunwoo?” 

Jaehyun nods, and you look up to the sky. 

“I was too young to even know what love looked like.”

It’s then that Jaehyun tastes the salt on his lips. 

***

After that day, you’re bedridden for some time with a migraine. You spend so long locked in your room with the lights off, Jaehyun tries sending you a nurse. You refuse the help stubbornly but politely. The next time he sees you is when you feel well enough to join him for dinner. 

“I hope you’re feeling better.” He says as Vina brings out plates with your meals. 

“I am, thank you Jaehyun.” You take a bite of your food. 

“Was it remembering that day that caused it?” 

You nod. “I’ve never been able to recall that much before.” The statement sounds sad to Jaehyun, and yet, you say it happily. “The pain of the headache was worth how good it felt to remember.”  

“Have you forgotten what you remembered?” Jaehyun asks, thinking back to when you said you usually forget again after. 

“Oddly enough, I have not.” You smile. Jaehyun feels a little hot; he thinks the fire must’ve grown in the hearth.   

“Jaehyun, do you know what Fortitude means?” Jaehyun shakes his head at your question as your dinner comes near an end. “I was told it meant courage.” You continue, clinking your fork against the plate.”And it feels like such a burden. To carry this responsibility. And to carry this name.” 

Jaehyun stares at you. He watches the way your arms dangle by your side as if they would fall off at the drop of a hat. He watches how you keep your eyes on your now empty plate. He watches you keep a smile on your face despite the way your voice sounds so sad. 

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.” 

“That’s alright Jaehyun.” The corner of your lip quirks. “Sometimes it’s more important to be heard than to be understood.” 

You stand up and excuse yourself from dinner. Jaehyun watches you go. 

—THE GIFT OF FORTITUDE—

When Younghoon finally returns to Jaehyun’s estate, it feels like he’s been gone for an eternity. You’re out in the market with Vina when he comes riding down the street on horseback. You call his name until he turns towards you. You have to unwrap the scarp you have fitted around your head and face before he recognizes you. 

Later that day, you and Younghoon ride on horseback through a forest trail. You wonder aloud why he isn’t tired after sitting on a saddle for the better part of the day. He shrugs and says something about not minding the pain of riding in exchange for the scenery. 

“Actually, I also wanted to talk to you about something.” You can hear the concern in Younghoon’s voice. You sit up on your horse. “Jaehyun’s father’s death anniversary is approaching.”

Oh. 

“He tends to get very…” Younghoon trails off, scratching the stubble growing on his chin. “He just isn’t himself during this part of the year. I thought you might appreciate a warning.” 

“Thank you, Younghoon.” You wait a beat. “Are you taking care of yourself?” 

“How do you mean?” 

“I heard you were close to Jaehyun’s father.”

“Oh,” he chuckles darkly, “I’ll be fine. It’s Jaehyun I worry about.” 

“And who’s here to worry about you?” 

Younghoon sighs. “Thank you for the concern.” 

***

The day of the anniversary itself, Younghoon spends the entire day in his room and Jaehyun disappears somewhere on the beach, only returning to the estate to ready himself for the temple service that night. You think that the whole estate, not just the residents, but the walls, the stone, the furniture, the rugs; the whole estate seems to be in mourning. You find yourself wanting to mourn too. 

There’s a knock on your door later that day while you’re reading a Risal from Roen. 

“Come in.” 

“Lady Gift, it’s time for the memorial service.” 

You hum. “Give my peace to Lord Jaehyun and Captain Younghoon.” 

“Uh, no, Lady Gift.” Vina shifts her weight. You look over to where she stands by the door. “It’s time for you to get dressed for the service.” You stare at Vina. “Lord Jaehyun requested that you attend the service as well.” 

“Oh,” you’re taken aback. You hadn’t realized you were wanted. 

You come down dressed in the traditional red color worn during burials and memorials. You do your best to find a red scarf to match. You meet Jaehyun downstairs, and he tells you that you’re still waiting for Younghoon. 

You chew on your bottom lip, unsure and timid. Suddenly the clothes feel itchy on your skin. “Jaehyun, are you sure you want me to come?”

Jaehyun looks confused. “Why shouldn’t you” 

“I mean I… I never really knew him.”     

Jaehyun pouts. “There's a dock on the east side of the beach my father used to take me to. I went there today. While I was there, I was thinking about the service tonight, and I found myself thinking about you.” You swallow. “I thought about all that you shared with me the other day and about all the death you’ve seen. It’s probably better that you never knew my father. You have enough fires to light and people to mourn as it is. Remember one of them instead.”

Younghoon appears then before you can say anything back, and you all, including Vina, head to the temple in a solemn silence. 

The temple is a sea of red. Younghoon whispers to you that Jaehyun’s father was loved by the people. You think that loved is an understatement; nearly the entire town has come out for the memorial service. 

You watch the fire rage. It was tradition to light fires for the dead. Years ago, fires were only lit 30 days after the death itself, but somewhere along the line, it had been normalized to light fires on the death anniversaries as well. The fire the temple has lit tonight burns bright and tall, as tall as the temple itself. The air around the temple is more smoke and flames than oxygen. You almost feel as if you’re suffocating, not from the smoke, but from the strife of an entire town which burns in the fire and contaminates the air. You choke on the sadness saturating your lungs and lingering in your veins. Your heart empties in tune with the mourning of the people for their beloved Lord. 

You inhale. 

You watch as Jaehyun and Younghoon throw burning logs into the flames. Soon after, others follow, throwing their own burning logs into the growing fire. You have to take a step back from the flame. Or rather Vina pulls you back muttering something about how the flying embers are dangerous. But you could care less. All you can manage to do is stare at the service unfolding before you, stunned. You have never seen a memorial service quite like this one. At the palace, the services were kept small and formal, limited to few guests and even smaller fires. But here, in these southern lands that you’re coming to love, even little children throw in twigs picked up from the nearby forest. The entire town throws in something. The entire town gets to remember the lost soul. You think that in some twisted way, it's beautiful. It’s beautiful how no one is left to mourn alone. 

You listen in on a group nearby, enough to hear that the group is sharing memories and stories of Jaehyun’s father. The group erupts in laughter. It seems out of place almost, such loud laughter in the midst of a memorial service, but when you look around the crowd you see a similar image in every corner. The people laugh and smile. They remember with joy. You recall that day on Angel’s Peak with Jaehyun and how good it felt to recall a part of your past. You think this must be like that. Loss was painful, but forgetting was worse. And through remembering, these people have made their pain their own to mend, bend, and break. 

It dawns on you then that the people are throwing in the love they can’t give as much as they’re throwing in their sadness for the loss. You learn that the fire before you doesn’t just rage, but that it cries and laughs as well. You learn that the wild warmth is more than just a fire; it’s an image of their love and loss. 

Jaehyun appears beside you then. He doesn’t look as happy as the others, but he looks less sad than he did before. He hands you a log and lights it with a match. You watch the fire eat up the wood in your hand before throwing it into the orange flames. Normally, only direct family members are allowed to throw things in the fire. So when Jaehyun hands you the log to throw, it’s actually the first time you've ever been allowed to do so. 

The last memorial you attended was for the princes’ mother, Roe. It was also the last time their father, the King, looked human to you. 30 days after her death a fire was lit by the palace temple. Orindell had just been born, still only an infant held in his father's arms. Peter and Roen were young as well, and the two boys clung to their father’s legs crying more out of confusion than anything else. You watched it all happen from a corner. You watched as the four boys, the King and his sons, weeped for their lost love. You watched as they threw in burning logs. And you watched it all behind a blur of your own tears. 

Before Roe, the last funeral you can remember attending was Avi’s, the young king who understood your grief and more importantly your guilt. But unlike the princes’ mother, who left an entire family behind, Avi had no living relatives. At his funeral, not a single log was thrown. For so long it had been you and Avi against the world, so when Avi died, it left you feeling inexplicably alone. 

You had burned a fire for Avi, and you had burned a fire Roe. But you never even lit a match for Sunwoo; and worse than that, you never bothered to mourn the loss of your mother and father. 

Jaehyun was right. You have plenty of fires to burn and logs to throw. So when a child passes by with a wagon of sticks in tow, you don’t hesitate to grab a handful. You throw one in for the Roe, the friend that made you feel human again. You throw one in for Avi, the tortured teen who understood. You throw a stick for Sunwoo who you sacrificed everything for. You throw two in for your mother and father who you lost long before their hearts stopped beating. You throw in several for the other Sins and Gifts who created that pointless war and left you lost in your own immortal soul. You throw in the rest for Lord Seth and all the lives that have been taken by your hands. You throw your regret into the fire and mourn. 

You forget Jaehyun’s next to you, until he puts a comforting hand on your shoulder. You lean into his touch, and the two of you mourn together.

—THE GIFT OF FORTITUDE—

You spend another sleepless night in bed thinking of Peter, thinking of the King, thinking of this kingdom. And when sunlight peaks from behind your curtains, you decide you’re tired of waiting. You send a hopeful Risal to Prince Peter. 

The Risal returns while you’re shooting arrows alone. When Younghoon came back and learned how you were using plates as targets and Jaehyun as a stand, he had crafted targets hanging from the tree branches for you to use instead. You were thankful for Younghoon’s generosity, but now, as you notch another arrow through your bowstring, you feel Jaehyun’s absence like a gaping hole, you feel it greatly. 

The arrow hits the wooden target with a sharp thud. 

It’s while you’re pulling the arrows from the target and placing them back in your quiver that you hear the Risal’s screech. You hold your arm out and wait for the bird to swoop down. 

No message, you think when the Risal comes back empty. You aren’t surprised that Peter received your message but didn’t bother to send one back. You have been sending the eldest Prince Risals since he departed from the Golden Palace at the start of spring, and every single one of your Risals came back with no reply. So no, you aren’t surprised, but that doesn’t stop the way your shoulders sag and your lips dip in a repetitive, dull dissapointment. 

You spend the rest of the day drowning in your own worries. 

And when your thoughts somehow travel to Younghoon’s handcrafted hanging targets. And to Jaehyun and how he opened up his home to you, and how he listens. You decide it’s time to tell Captain Younghoon and Lord Jaehyun the truth; the truth you owe them. 

“Did Peter respond to your Risal?” Jaehyun asks at dinner that night. You answer his questions with a tired sigh and a small no. 

You recognize that it’s time to repay their kindness with honesty. So when Jaehyun and Younghoon share a look and ask you timidly why exactly Prince Peter was sent away to begin with, you know. This is your chance. So you take it by the neck and run. 

You recall to Jaehyun and Younghoon the day things started changing within the Golden Palace. The day Peter came to you sad and betrayed and alone. 

“This isn’t right,” Peter muttered to you on that cold winter day. He sat in your sitting room, his hands holding up his head from falling off his shoulders altogether. You took a long sip of your tea. This was no surprise to you. From the day Peter had turned old enough to understand the workings of this kingdom and sit in on council meetings, he had been meeting with you like this. Letting you in on his doubts about the policies being put in order. About this kingdom. Doubts about his place as a Prince and other ones about his own father. Eventually, Roen joined these meetings. Then Orindell did too. It had become custom, for the four of them, a Gift of the Spirit and three Princes, to sit in your sitting room, to talk about and worry for your kingdom, that was slipping into disorder and that you all loved so much.

On that cold winter day, however, only Peter sat with you. Roen was on a northern campaign, and Orindell travelled with the Knights of the Holy Order leading his knights as their Commander, and all too young for the responsibility and the role. But an amazing Commander nonetheless. 

“He can’t do this,” Peter had groaned, “and I’m not sure how much longer I can sit by and watch.” 

You halted, your teacup moments away from reaching your lips. You set it back down. 

“Prince Peter, what are you suggesting?” 

He huffed and shook his head. You had thought he looked wild and angry and unhinged. “He’s set himself on a course to drive this kingdom into the dirt. Father hasn’t been himself for some time now. Something is wrong. Something that we can’t see. And the longer we wait, the worse he’ll get.”

“Peter,” you said again, the name sounding like a plea. 

“He is no longer fit to be king!” Peter slammed his hand down on the table. 

You clicked your tongue, unaffected by Peter’s sudden outburst. “So it’s a coup you’re suggesting then?” 

He sighed. “I’ve already decided. He has to be stopped.” He paused, looking at you with eyes that reminded you of the days he and his brothers would run around the palace courtyard. Your heart ached at the memory. “I want you to help me. But I’ll do this without your help too.”

And so you started planning Peter’s eventual overthrow of the King and of his father. 

“We kept it a secret, Peter and I,” you continue. Jaehyun and Younghoon listen silently but intently. “We didn’t even tell his brothers. The only other person we told was Juyeon. And while we plotted against the King, I started remembering things. For some reason, being around Peter so much, helped me remember. The memories are broken and blurry, but in them I saw flashes of my past and found forgotten conversations with the King. He would speak with me privately quite often as a consultant of sorts. And it was in recovering those shared words, that things really started to change for Peter and me. Because in my memories, the King sounds as insane as the rebellious eastern Lords make him out to be. In one moment, he’s crying about how alone he feels in this world and how he longs to go home. And in the next, he’s asking me how he can talk to Angels. It was clear to Peter and I that his father wasn’t himself anymore. The King had gone mad. 

“We started hearing about his experiments at the start of summer. The King insisted that these experiments would allow him to talk to an Angel and that they’d make him less lonely. And you must understand, all of this was hard for Peter. It was difficult for him to watch his own father spiral into insanity. So when Peter got evidence of the King’s experiments, he took matters into his own hands. He openly defied his father, in front of the council, and so the King sent him away.

“They’re both so impulsive it’s almost laughable how the whole thing played out. But either way, the night before he left Peter came to me and told me how he wasn’t giving up. He told me that when he returned to the Golden Palace it’d be as the King. So I told him…” You trail off, searching for the best way to say this next part without making yourself sound as mad as the King. 

It’s Younghoon who asks, leaning off the edge of his seat like he can’t stand the suspense of it. “What did you tell Prince Peter?” 

“I told him to go to the Nomads’ Lands.” 

Jaehyun chokes on his water. 

You continue on with the story, unbothered. 

“Although the King was the one to send him away, I think he was also the saddest to watch Peter go. I know it must be hard to believe, but the King wasn’t always as crazy as he is now. He’s always been impulsive, yes, but he used to be strong, charming, kingly. And he was devastated by his son’s absence in their home. Ultimately, I think that’s what drove him over the edge. That’s what made him so desperate to stop feeling so alone. So desperate he injected Lord Seth with one of his experiments, and he made me watch. But I knew as well as the King that the experiment had gone wrong. Yet he insisted on it working. He was so desperate he convinced himself that if we just waited everything would work out. Lord Seth was locked in the palace prisons that night, and no one but the King and I knew.

“I told you,” you look at Jaehyun, “that I had my reasons. I didn’t want to kill him. I take no pleasure in murder. But the experiment had gone wrong, and Lord Seth was in pain. If you had heard the way he cried and screamed and the way it echoed throughout the prison walls and the way—” 

You break. No, you don’t just break. You shatter. It’s been so long since you’ve made yourself feel the shame of your crimes. But now looking straight into the eyes of the sins you’ve committed. You crack and break and shatter into a million pieces. Each of your infinite shards tainted with a cruel shade of guilt. 

Jaehyun reaches over and covers your hand that rests atop of the table with his own. And although he’s only touching one small part of you, you feel his warmth in every part of your soul.

And when he says, “You took him out of his misery. If I were half as brave as you, I’d do the same,” you feel as if he’s lending you his strength. 

He squeezes your hands once, then pulls away. You feel suddenly, foolishly cold. 

“So that’s why Peter was sent away,” you finish, looking up at Younghoon and Jaehyun. “And that’s why I was sent away too.” You feel tired and drained. Like you’ve fought off an entire army of men. Like you’ve been swimming against the current of the Zalazar River for years. You wonder helplessly and hopelessly why it’s so exhausting to remember yet so easy to forget. 

It’s Younghoon who speaks again at last. “Thank you Lady Gift for entrusting us with such sensitive information. I think you know as well as I do that it’s time you tell Prince Roen and Prince Orindell the truth too.” 

“Yes,” you mutter, already dreading the lengthy Risal you would have to write before bed, “I do.” 

“I’m still curious about one thing,” Jaehyun says with a hand under his chin, “why did you send Peter to the Nomads?”

Suddenly, you’re reminded of your last conversation with Juyeon, and how he held your face and begged you to remember and how your head hurt too much to see straight by the end of the night. Yet when Jaehyun asks the same question, his voice bouncing off the walls of your mind, an answer appears as clear as day and as white as snow. When Jaehyun asks, you know. 

“The Nomads weren’t always as they are now. They weren’t as hostile or private. That night, I remembered that the Nomads were known to be bridges between Humans and the Elders. I sent him to the Nomads’ Lands in the hopes that they’d share with him the knowledge of the Elders.” 

Jaehyun only nods. And you’re glad for the silence that emerges, because you need a moment to process what you’ve just said yourself. The Elders were known to be channels for the Gods to spout their wisdom and hear the prayers of the people. All historic scrolls and religious teachings were based on the knowledge of the Elders. Another purpose of the Seven Sins and Seven Gifts was to be a bridge between the Elders and the Humans similar to the way the Nomads were a bridge. Perhaps that’s another reason why this kingdom feels so lost. You never learned how to communicate with the Elders. Thanks to Avi and his act of arson, the kingdom has none of the previous teachings from the Elders, and thanks to you, the kingdom has no new ones. 

But still, knowing that doesn’t calm the questions that arise in your mind. What knowledge from the Elders could the Nomads possibly have that would make you send Peter to them? 

The dinner ends abruptly when Younghoon stands up exclaiming how he’s tired from all that he’s just learned and bids you goodnight. You and Jaehyun do the same soon after. 

You write to Roen that night. And in your Risal, you tell him everything. You tell him about Peter, the experiments, Lord Seth, his father, your memories, the Nomads, and more. In the last line you ask Roen to extend this information to Orindell as well. You seal the letter and climb into bed with aching fingers. 

The response from Roen comes a few days later. 

Dear Fortitude, I didn’t know about Lord Seth. Thank you for doing what you did. Not even he deserved to be kept alive in pain and hurting. But everything else, Orindell and I, we already knew. Peter told us everything the night before he left. But thank you nonetheless. -Roen 

That sounds right to you. Those three boys, those brothers, they were like that. At each other’s throats one day and hugging each other the next. Chasing Orindell around the palace grounds. Playing pranks on Peter. And setting silly traps for Roen. Tackling each other to the ground and then spilling all their secrets. They’re each other's best friend as much as they’re brothers. It was only natural Peter told them the truth. And you’re glad he did. 

You sleep wonderfully that night

—LORD JAEHYUN—

Jaehyun hopes you never learn how to braid your own hair.  Your hair was so soft and it smelled nice too. Jaehyun took some sort of pleasure in being the one to braid your hair back every time the wind was too strong and you forgot a hair tie which happened more often than not. 

“It must be hard,” you say as Jaehyun sections your hair into three parts, “for Younghoon to spend so much time away from his family.” 

His hand lingers by the nape of your neck. 

“Yes, it must.” 

The next day Jaehyun tells Younghoon to go back home. 

“You can’t get rid of me that easily.” Younghoon laughs, although the laugh sounds hesitant and it sounds lonely. 

“Go home, Younghoon.” Jaehyun insists. “Paid leave.” 

Younghoon packs up his things that very night. 

***

You have been quiet for some time now. Not just quiet in sound, but also quiet in the way you walk and eat. You silently send Risals back and forth with Roen, and then quietly accept the lack of response from Peter. You quietly begin taking more walks and then silently start taking them alone. You have been quiet since Younghoon left, but looking back, it appears that this quiet has been looming in the air for some time now. It’s been teetering up behind Jaehyun, taunting him back and forth since the night you told him and Younghoon everything. Jaehyun isn’t so sure what to make of it. But he does know that he misses you even though you spend every second under the same roof. 

He hates the quiet. 

“Lord Jaehyun! Come quick!” Vina screams from somewhere in the estate. Jaehyun bolts out of his room and finds her running towards him in the halls. “It’s Lady Gift,” she says breathless, eyes wide with worry and fear, “I think she plans to jump.” 

Jaehyun runs. 

He runs past Vina, out of the estate, onto the grassy path, towards the beach, and then westward. He runs and runs and runs. 

And there you are. Standing on top of Angel’s Peak, ready to jump. Silently. Jaehyun’s heart stops. 

“Don’t try to stop me!” You yell at Jaehyun and Vina watching you frozen in the sand. “I’ll jump, and I’ll survive.” 

“Lady Gift!” Vina yells back. “You’ll die. Come down. It’s not—“ 

Jaehyun puts a hand on Vina’s shoulder. Asking, pleading her to stop. 

“Lady Gift,” he doesn’t yell or scream, and yet he speaks loud enough for you to hear over the wind and waves. Jaehyun surprises himself with how calm his voice sounds. “Do you know how to swim?” 

You falter, grasping your sleeves as if they hold the answer.

“I might.” You finally respond. 

Jaehyun sighs. “I won’t try to stop you.” You look surprised. “But just wait a moment before you jump.” 

He starts pulling off his shoes, and then also his shirt. He can feel Vina stiffen beside him. 

“Lord Jaehyun, what are you doing?” Vina asks frantically. 

“I just wanna make sure the water’s safe,” he says before diving into the ocean. 

The water is cold. But he pushes himself through the water, swimming to the base of Angel’s Peak and feeling the strength of the sea with each movement of his arms. The waves are loud and crashing, but they aren’t strong. 

“Jaehyun!” He hears you scream from the cliff above. It sounds like you’re asking him to stop. He does not. 

He reaches the base of the cliff, his body now acclimated to the cold temperature of the water. He dives under the water and looks for something, anything that could hit you in your fall. The water is empty and clear. 

“The water is safe.” He calls back up swimming to a safer spot, away from where you will fall. “Run and jump, or you won’t make it past the ledge.” 

You nod looking up past the horizon, eyes closed. 

“And remember,” you open one eye to look down on him, “feet first.” 

You smirk. Then disappear from Jaehyun’s view. You run up to the edge. And jump. 

Except that you don’t just jump. You fling your body off the cliff. You fling your entire lifespan into the sky. And you fall. 

Jaehyun swears that time stops when you do. As if you aren’t falling but descending. As if the air is holding you up by the arms. You drop from the sky as if you’ve been preparing to do so your entire life. As if every second, minute, day, and year has amounted to this jump, this dive. And you fall and fall and fall. For longer than is humanly possible. Feet first, like Jaehyun had said. But you don’t crash into the water. No, the waves rise up to meet you. As if the sea has been waiting for you since forever. You disappear into the ocean. Jaehyun watches. Amazed. 

It’s when Vina screams his name that he’s pulled out of his trance. It’s then he realizes that you have yet to re-emerge from under the water. 

He panics. Fear coursing, shooting through him. He sucks in a breath. 

And dives. 

He lets the current take him to you. And there you are. Submerged in the water between the tides. Your eyes closed. Alive but unconscious. Alive but not fighting. He had asked you once what it took to kill you, and you had answered: giving up. And Jaehyun thinks that this must be it. Your body floating, sinking, falling in the water. This must be what it meant to give up. 

But Jaehyun isn’t going to let you give up so easily. He grabs you in his arms and throws back the water until you’re both above the surface. He fights and swims like he’s never done before. He rips through the current with a frightening amount of adrenaline. Vina pulls you both out of the water. And Jaehyun bangs at your chest and blows life into your lungs until you are choking and breathing and alive. Jaehyun falls into the sand beside you. 

“I’ll go get towels, and clean clothes.” Vina says scurrying away in the sand. 

Jaehyun and you lay side by side, wet hair and clothes sticking to your bodies. Exhausted. 

“It looked like you were dying,” Jaehyun mumbles the moment he can spare enough breath to do so, “there, under the water.” He turns his head. “Were you trying to?” 

“I don’t want to die, Jaehyun.” Your voice comes out as breathless as his.

“Did you want to feel like you’re dying?” 

You shake your head. 

“Then what?” 

“I wanted to feel mortal.” 

He looks away from you, and they watch the clouds in a shattering silence.

“I want to do it again.” 

Jaehyun laughs, amused by your desire to fling yourself off cliffs. “Oh I beg you, at least learn how to swim first.” 

You look at him then. Forehead creased and utterly confused. 

—THE GIFT OF FORTITUDE—

And later that night in the darkness of your bedroom and comfort of your covers. You think and overthink and think again how Jaehyun didn’t try to stop you. How he let you jump and made sure the water was safe. How he carried you back to shore. And how unbelievably good it felt to be in his arms. 

—LORD JAEHYUN—

The quiet is gone. It’s like you jumped off Angel’s Peak and dropped the silence in the water. Jaehyun is glad because, above all things, the quiet made him worry. 

You only wait a day before you’re asking Jaehyun to teach you how to swim. And when you do, excitement gushing from your voice, it’s obvious he doesn’t have much of a choice. Not that it matters, Jaehyun would have agreed to teach you regardless, his choice or not. 

Jaehyun’s father taught him how to swim. He taught him how to paddle and tread the water. He taught him about the currents, the waves, the seaweed, and the fish. 

Jaehyun extends everything he knows to you. 

You struggle at first. Even with the little things, like not losing your balance against the waves and floating in the water. But you’re stubborn. You struggle and fight with the sea until it’s bowing at your feet. By the end of the first week, you glide through the water and body surf the waves as if you’ve been doing it for years. And two days after that, you swim even better than Jaehyun. You race him to the rocks and back. You win everytime. Though Jaehyun takes pride in the way he doesn’t end far behind. Jaehyun also takes pride in how he was the one to teach you, and how good you’ve become in such little time. 

You smile at him, ducking your head under the water, and Jaehyun feels an unreal sort of elation. It’s then that he takes his pride and shoves it into the ocean. 

***

“I lied,” you confess the night you both can’t sleep and meet for the second time at the rocks. Jaehyun immediately assumes the worst, his mind racing with possibilities. “A while ago, Younghoon asked me if I would fight him. I told him I don’t like to fight anymore. But it was a lie. I do.” 

He exhales, so relieved it comes out as a laugh. “Next time don’t make it sound so grave.” 

You shove his propped knee, and he topples over dramatically. You snicker at the display. 

When you continue, your voice is tainted with an odd shade of guilt. “And I don’t just like fighting. I enjoy it too.” 

Jaehyun smiles a bit. “How so?” 

You hesitate, looking at Jaehyun like he holds the answer in his palms, but frown when you notice his smile. “Why are you smiling?” 

He shrugs. “It’s nice to hear you talking again.” 

“Oh.” You look down at your feet. Jaehyun feels suddenly warm. 

He shakes the feeling. “You say you like fighting as if it’s a bad thing.” 

“Is it?” 

Jaehyun expects it to be rhetorical, but you meet his eyes sincerely. Jaehyun realizes, in what feels like a moment too late, that you genuinely don't know. “It doesn’t have to be.” 

“I suppose.” You tap your foot against the rock. The beat feels familiar to Jaehyun. 

“So then,” he says when the tapping comes to stop, “why don’t you fight?” 

You bring your knees impossibly closer to your chest. “After Avi died, I felt so lost. He was the last person to know me for me. And so, after a fire was lit in his memorial, I left the Golden Palace and I…” 

You stop there as if the story has come to a sudden end. 

This time the tapping comes from Jaehyun’s foot. “Is it the fog again?” 

“No.” You tell him confidently. “I can’t remember well. But it’s not because of some fog. It’s like my memories of those years have been blacked out. Erased from my mind. By choice.” Jaehyun watches the way you unsurely picks at your nails and the way your hair billows in the wind. “All I know is that after Avi died, I was so angry. At the world. At myself. I went on a rampage. I was in this state of so much pain and hurt and loss that nothing mattered anymore. I didn’t care who I hurt along the way, and only the Gods know how many I must’ve hurt.”

Jaehyun listens. He lets your words travel and touch every part of his body and soul until he feels the pain and anger himself. Until he wants to sob at the tear that rolls down the side of your face. 

“I remember the fire that was lit for Avi, and then I remember running from the Golden Palace. After that, it's all black and blur. But then one day I woke up and the anger was gone. Like it had dissolved overnight. The next week I met Roe.”

You pause, and in the silence Jaehyun yearns to take the years you spent in suffering and carry them in his arms. He wants to hide the years you spent angry and alone in the pockets of his largest coat. 

“I’m scared, Jaehyun.” You whisper, voice wavering in the salty wind. “I’m scared that if I let myself fight again, I won’t come back from it. How can I carry the name Fortitude when I don’t even have enough courage to face myself?”

The words hit him like a punch to gut. He recoils under the weight. A gust of wind blows then, pushing and pulling the hairs that have escaped from your braid. He wants to reach his hand out and tuck the hair away. He only realizes a second after that he hasn’t swallowed down the impulse fast enough. He’s surprised to see you soften the teeniest bit when his fingers graze your forehead. He feels suddenly, impossibly weightless.

“You aren’t the person you were then.” He says. “You’ve learned. You’ve grown. But the biggest difference is that now you aren’t alone.” You let out a breath as if you’ve been holding it for years. For all Jaehyun knows, that might be the truth. He continues. “The day you jumped off Angel’s Peak, you fell into the water and you sank. For the smallest of seconds, I lost you between the waves. But I found you and pulled you to shore.” He pauses, reminded of the terror he felt for the second that you were gone. “What I mean is that if you lose yourself in the waves of a fight, you have people to pull you out from the riptide. You have me, Younghoon, Juyeon, Peter, Roen, Orindell; hell even Vina would pull you out if she had the chance.” You manage a small, sad laugh, and the sound of it alone fills Jaehyun with an indescribable warmth. “You're not alone anymore. Even if you do get lost, you’ll find a way back, with or without our help. If you want to fight, fight. You have nothing to be scared of. Not anymore.”

You lay back suddenly, arms extended above your head and eyes closed. You smile. Like you’re free. As if you’ve been granted freedom from the ropes tied by your own doing. You yawn. 

“Oh how happy Younghoon will be to hear all this.” 

Jaehyun chuckles. “He’ll be jumping at the chance to spar with you.” 

You stand up and say, “thank you for listening,” before walking away. 

“And Jaehyun,” you stop, your back still facing him, “it feels nice to talk with you again too.” 

Jaehyun is the Zalazar River in the fall. Bright red and burning. 

***

Jaehyun floats on his back in the waveless water watching you above him who’s grown to love cliff jumping from Angel’s Peak.

You jump like you did before except that this time you don’t fling your life into the water. You jump and fall from the sky. Then you sink and sink and sink. And emerge from the water, alive. 

“Are there any other cliffs?” You ask as you swim around each other. 

“What, are you bored of Angel’s Peak already?” 

“Perhaps.” 

Jaehyun laughs, and you splash him with water. He dives and chases you back to shore. 

—THE GIFT OF FORTITUDE—

“Aren’t you close to Captain Juyeon?” Jaehyun wonders aloud when a Risal swoops down from the sky the day you and Jaehyun are sitting in the courtyard. 

“He’s like a brother to me.” You say while you send the bird away, keeping the letter sealed and in your lap. 

“Then, why haven’t you been exchanging Risals with him as well?” 

You scoff. “I wish I could, but he’s scared of the bird.” Jaehyun giggles, and it spreads like wildfire in the breeze.

“You must miss him.” He mutters, and you hum a yes, opening the letter wordlessly. 

The letter you receive however is not the one you expect. And it certainly isn’t the letter you want. 

You read and then reread the letter from Orindell. It was an apology of sorts, though the words seem scattered and unsure. You huff, dropping the letter in your lap. Jaehyun notices but doesn’t say anything, focusing instead on that cat that’s climbed in his lap.

You think about Orindell, the boy who you’ve known his entire life, and how well he grew up. Orindell never let his brothers get the best of him despite being the youngest. Wherever they beat him in strength and size, he countered with wit and skill. It proved useful for Orindell; he was quick to take interest in matters of battle strategy and war efficiency. Orindell climbed the administrative ranks of the Knights of the Holy Order faster than anyone you had seen before, and in a blink of an eye, he became the youngest ever Commander of the Knights. You had felt swollen with pride for the youngest Prince. 

And maybe that’s why it hurt so much when he confessed to you in the winter. And yet here Orindell is, apologizing for pushing his love on you and for asking your hand in marriage. Here he is taking back his wrongdoings in writing. You sigh helplessly.  

“Is something wrong?” Jaehyun asks from across the table not taking his eyes off the cat still curled up in his lap. You slide the letter over to him. He reads it slowly. Then laughs. “I was not aware you carried Prince Orindell’s heart in your bags.” 

You narrow your eyes. “I. Do. Not.” You snatch the letter back. 

“I take it you don’t harbor similar feelings for Prince Orindell then?” The question sounds hopeful. 

“No, not at all.” You deny. “Orindell is like a child to me.” 

“He’s only a few years younger than myself.” Jaehyun says looking up, his eyes strangely dark. “Do you see me as a child too?” 

You flick the letter. “I’ve known Orindell since he was born. I watched him grow. He feels like family to me. But I met you at this age, so it doesn’t feel like you’re much younger than I am. It’s odd how age seems to work in my head. I know I’m older than you and Younghoon by ages, and yet I see you both as equals.” You take a sip of your drink. “Plus, Orindell still acts like a child.” Jaehyun smiles at that. 

“Oddly enough,” Jaehyun mumbles, bringing the full glass to his lips, “that makes sense.” 

You think back to the letter, and sense fondness in Orindell’s apology. Something in your mind clicks. 

“I was so mad at him,” You say to the air around you, “at Orindell. For months. I wanted him to tell me he never felt that way, that he fooled himself into something deeper than a platonic love. But I realize now that he can’t take it back even if he wanted to. Orindell can’t help how he feels.” You look up and find Jaehyun watching you. “He’s apologized for what he can. But he can’t apologize for falling in love.”

Jaehyun smiles sweetly. The kind of smile that makes your heart numb. “Oh Fortitude, I could’ve told you that months ago.” 

“I fear,” you begin, leaning forward in your seat, “that in rejecting Orindell, I’ll lose him as well.”

Jaehyun points to the letter. “He’s apologized. He doesn’t want to lose you either.” 

You repeat it in your mind. 

He doesn’t want to lose you either. 

It makes you feel suddenly, inexplicably upset and confused. Why is it so easy to love yet so hard to accept? How can love be so strong but still fleeting like everything else? You know Orindell’s feelings for you will pass, and yet knowing it doesn’t make you feel much better. Love waxes and wanes like the phases of the moon, but does it ever fade? You think of how Orindell feels towards you. How you have felt towards others in the past. And today sitting in the courtyard, the picture your shoved down feelings create finally starts to make sense. You find the image to be startling but unsurprising all the same. Finally, you understand the pain of poets, the pain Orindell must feel, and the pain you once felt yourself. 

Love is a burden. A burden you’re only now learning how to accept. 

You want to welcome the warm weight with open arms. 

***

That night you send a Risal to the Golden Palace addressed for Prince Orindell. 

—LORD JAEHYUN—

Jaehyun sorts through his papers and files through responsibilities mindlessly on the day a letter for him comes. He pushes it to the side of his mind when you come into his office sputtering something about the latest news from the Golden Palace and how things have been so much better between you and Prince Orindell. 

He waits a moment once you’ve finished. “Do you remember me telling you about my sister, Insia?” You nod at his question, falling into the armchair near him. “Well, I just got this from her.” Jaehyun holds up the letter. “It’s her son’s birthday, and they’ve invited me to celebrate.” 

“Oh how sweet!” You gush, although your voice sounds a bit higher than normal. You pull at your sleeves. “How long will you be gone?” 

“Actually,” Jaehyun hesitates, his next question teetering on the tip of his tongue, “I was wondering if you’d like to come as well?” 

***

The boat ride to the island Insia lives on is pleasant. Jaehyun humors you with stories of his childhood and of Insia, and you listen to Jaehyun talk as if your life depends on it. When they dock, Jaehyun drags you to a bakery to buy candy and sweets for Insia’s children and then some more for yourselves. 

By late afternoon they reach Insia and her husband Cyrin’s house. Jaehyun always liked their house. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was comfortable and somehow perfect. They lived right on the beach. The back door leading to a sandy shore and sparkling blue waters. 

“Hold on,” Jaehyun says abruptly, taking your hand in his, “before we go in, I want to show you something.” 

He leads you around the house and beyond the white fence that separates the streets from the beach. You take off your shoes before proceeding in the sand. It takes one more turn and another second of walking on your already aching feet before it’s visible. 

The sea. 

The water that surrounds the island is bluer and clearer than the waters back home. The waves shine in the last bit of the light from the setting sun. Jaehyun feels at home despite being hours away from it. 

He looks over at you. And you smile so brightly the sun seems to dim in that moment. The awe in your eyes and lightness in your sigh reminds Jaehyun of the first time he took you to see the sea. He’s reminded of how his chest wanted to burst at the sight of your smile. He finds himself in a similar predicament today, except that now the bursting chest was something he had grown quite used to. It was something he had grown to adore. Jaehyun loved the sea. But looking at you and the wonder in each one of your bones, he thinks you might love it more. 

“Uncle Jaehyun!” A voice yells from behind them. Jaehyun whips around only to be tackled by the weight of a 7 year old clinging onto his body and legs. A second later he’s tackled by another child. He pulls them both into his arms and smothers them with as much love as he can fit into a hug. 

You kneel down in the sand, and introduce yourself to the children. “You must be Elia.” You say to the older girl who’s detached herself from Jaehyun. Elia nods enthusiastically. “And you,” you point to the younger boy, shyly hiding behind Jaehyun’s legs, “must be the birthday boy.” 

“That’s my brother Herschel, and he’s turning five years old tomorrow.” Elia jumps in before Herschel can answer. Jaehyun plops down himself and the children follow. The four of you sitting in a circle in the warm sand. 

“Or so I’ve heard.” you say, pulling the box of sweets from a bag. “Well, to celebrate your Uncle Jaehyun and I brought you some sweets—“

The children pounce on the box before you can finish. Jaehyun clutches his stomach in laughter. 

“Jaehyun!” Insia yells from the back deck of her home. Although the yell sounds more like she’s about to nag him instead of welcoming her only brother to her home. “Those sweets will rot their teeth!” 

“You’re torturing them Insia!” He yells back, getting up from the sand to greet his sister. “Children need sweets.” 

Insia scrunches her nose. “You spoil them too much.” She says before pulling Jaehyun into a hug.

Jaehyun leads Insia to where you and the children sit in the sand, and asks about the whereabouts of his youngest niece, Devi, who is still less than a year old. Insia resposds that she’s napping and that Cyrin’s watching her. 

You stand up to greet Insia. 

“Lady Gift, it’s such an honor that you’ve come to visit. We’re humbled to have you stay in our home.” 

“Oh please, no. I’m the one who’s humbled that you’ve opened up your home to me. And please call me Fortitude. I despise formalities.” 

“Well, in that case,” Insia coos, looping her arm with yours, “please come inside. Jaehyun’s told me so much about you. I think we’ll get along wonderfully this weekend.” 

***

Insia, like always, is right. You and her get along wonderfully. After the kids are put to bed, you and Insia begin talking in the sitting area, and in the span of your conversation, Jaehyun and Cyrin are able to finish not one but two card games at the kitchen table. Cyrin puts up the cards while Jaehyun watches you and Insia converse. He finds it almost surprising that the two of you still have something to talk about considering how different you both are. But the surprise is a pleasant one, for Jaehyun takes much pleasure in watching two people he cares for so deeply talk and laugh together comfortably. 

“Jaehyun, you must stay here longer.” Cyrin insists. “If not for the whole weekend, then at least for the day after Herschel’s party.” 

Jaehyun hesitates. “I don’t know. Younghoon is already coming back the day before we’re supposed to, and I’d hate to make him wait for us longer than he already will be.” 

“Oh please,” Insia dismisses, you and her approaching the table, “Younghoon sees you everyday; he’ll be fine. I barely see you anymore, especially after Devi was born. The least you could do is give me the pleasure of celebrating your birthday with you.” 

“Your birthday?” You mutter from your side of the table. You meet Jaehyun’s eyes. “Forgive me Jaehyun. I had no idea.” Jaehyun dismisses the apology.                     

Cyrin and Insia share a look. The kind of look that only couples who know each other in and out could share. The kind of look that holds entire conversations in one glance. They share another look after that too. Insia scoffs, turning dramatically to you. 

“Would you mind humouring Cyrin with an arm wrestle? He wants to see how well he can hold up against a Gift of the Spirit.”

Jaehyun’s reminded of how a similar conversation between Younghoon and you went. Jaehyun inhales sharply, watching your reaction carefully. You surprise him by laughing. 

“I’m no joke.” Cyrin defends in response to your laughter. “There’s yet a person on this island to beat me.” 

You lean towards him. “Ah, but no person on this island is me.” You ready your arm up. Cyrin takes it eagerly. 

Jaehyun likes this. How you tease Cyrin. How you’re not afraid of your powers anymore. How you beam with confidence. 

“You do know who I am right?” You say, before the back of hand slams down on the table. Cyrin yelps in shock, and Insia hides snickers behind her hand while you laugh loudly and freely. You turn towards Jaehyun, and the two of you share a look of your own. 

And through the silent conversation, Jaehyun knows. Younghoon would have to wait a bit longer for your return. 

—THE GIFT OF FORTITUDE—

The next morning you send a Risal to Younghoon telling him that you and Jaehyun would be staying for the entire weekend. He responds with a simple tell Herschel and Jaehyun I said happy birthday. You do. 

Later that day, Insia requests you and Jaehyun to take the children outside while she prepares the house for the part that night. 

You pick up Devi and rock the child in your arms, following Jaehyun and the other two children out of the house, onto the back deck, and then to the beach. You carefully take a seat in the sand. 

You learned back when the Princes were young that you had an inexplicable knack with babies. So when Devi softens and presses herself against your body, it appears the knack has not yet been lost. You turn into mush when Devi stops crying, reaching for you. You give her a finger to hold onto and Devi takes it at once. 

You look away from the adorable baby cradled between your arms, and your eyes land on Jaehyun. Jaehyun plays with Elia and Herschel, really plays with them. Running and rolling around in the sand. Splashing them with water and pouting when the two siblings get mad at each other. You wonder for a moment what it would be like if this was your family. Married, with children, and living far away on this island. You wonder for a moment how it would feel to be normal and to be mortal. And the thought strikes you with an odd sort of sadness. One that grabs at your heart and shakes it until the blood is gone. One that makes your ribs disappear and your body feel hollow and numb. 

But then Jaehyun lifts Herschel onto his shoulders, and your sadness vanishes the second he does. He smiles at you. Giggles. Calls you twice with something you can’t quite place lingering on his tongue. 

Your chest starts to hum. He smiles at you again, and the humming grows and shifts into a song. A song that’s breathtakingly beautiful. One with chords so delightfully articulated that you don’t want to go a day without hearing them. You want your chest to hum and sing this song for the rest of your life.

Suddenly, Devi squeezes the fingers she’s been holding onto, and in that moment, while watching Jaehyun play with his sister’s children and while carrying Jaehyun’s niece in your own two arms, you feel impossibly, shatteringly happy. 

—LORD JAEHYUN—

The birthday party had been a smash, with children appearing from every crevice of the house and cake smothered on Herschel’s face. Insia and Cyrin seemed happy with it. You seemed happy with it. The children seemed happy with it. And their happiness made Jaehyun happy as well. 

Tonight is another sleepless night for Jaehyun, but since he isn’t home with a familiar rock to sit on, he heads to a balcony in Insia’s home that overlooks the coast. He brings an extra coat; the balcony would be cold. Still, he shivers in the howling wind, letting the crashing waves ease his mind slowly and methodically. You join him at some point, and Jaehyun smiles when he hears the balcony door open. He doesn’t have to turn around to know it’s you. His smile turns into a frown when he notices you dressed plainly, no scarf and no coat. 

“Are you immune to coldness then?”

You shiver, wrapping your arms around your torso. “Unfortunately, no.” 

“Here.” Jaehyun hands you the extra coat. 

You take it and stare at the cloth before wrapping it around your shoulders. “Do you always bring extra coats?” 

“No.” He leans against the wall. “But if you insist on not dressing properly, I suppose I’ll have to start.” 

You look down, smiling. You walk to the edge of the balcony and rest your elbows on the railing. The two of you are quiet together for some time. 

“I wish you told me earlier that your birthday is approaching, Jaehyun.” You say. “I could’ve prepared something for you.” 

He bites the inside of his cheek. “It hadn’t seemed important enough to bring up before.”

“Why wouldn’t it be important?”

“It’s just one day.” 

“It should still be celebrated.” You insist, sounding suddenly mad. As if Jaehyun not telling you was an insult. Jaehyun positions himself closer. 

“Is something wrong?” He asks as softly as possible. 

And at his words, your head drops, like you couldn’t bear to hold it up any longer. You cry silently, face hidden from Jaehyun by your own body, stammering over your own sniffles. He takes your hand in his and holds it to his heart. “Please,” he begs because the sight of you in so much silent pain hurts him more than he can admit, “tell me what’s happened.”

And so you do. You tell him how you’ve become rotten with jealousy for Insia and her perfect family. And how you want nothing more than to be normal. You tell Jaehyun how much you wish you could take back being the Gift of Fortitude. And with each word that leaves from your lips, Jaehyun comes to realize that what you tell him  now isn’t like anything you’ve told him before. What keeps you up tonight isn’t a forgotten memory or worry for someone else. No, tonight, you allow sleep to stay out of reach and let tears fall down the side of your cheek because of a wound that’s still fresh and bleeding and new. Tonight, your pain is not one Jaehyun can take away. No matter how badly he wants to. 

He stares at you, frozen. And Jaehyun thinks, not for the first time, about all the people you’ve lost. Sunwoo, Avi, your parents, Roe. He thinks about all the years behind your eyes, and all the scars in your mind. He thinks about how you’ve given everything you have to give, and how you gave it all from the heart. You sacrificed your entire life for this kingdom. And this sadness, this never-ending pain, you did not deserve. He stares at you, the Gift of Fortitude, and thinks about all that you’ve endured. 

Finally, he speaks. “A while ago, you told me that Fortitude meant courage, and that the name alone was such a burden. But later, with Younghoon, I looked up the meaning of Fortitude. It means more than just courage. It means to be brave and stand tall in the midst of pain. It means to endure. And oh, only the Gods know how much in this life you’ve endured.” 

Your voice breaks, and at last, your cries are no longer silent. He holds you close, and you shake, sobbing, under the arms he has around you. When he pulls away, he finds that he’s no longer looking at you, but instead the face of a God. Or rather, his God. And Jaehyun isn’t sure what to do or how to act because suddenly he sees his God in you. He says your name like a prayer. Like a religious verse spilling from his lips. 

And because he can’t think of anything more to say, he squeezes your hand, brings it to his lips, and presses a kiss to each one of your knuckles. 

—THE GIFT OF FORTITUDE—

You are a ball of flames. Hot and burning in hues of orange, red, and blue. The song in your chest from earlier erupts into a symphony. But it’s a sad and dramatic orchestra so you continue to weep and cry until the flames have been reduced to scorch marks on your knuckles. Jaehyun’s coat suddenly feels heavy on your shoulders. 

—LORD JAEHYUN—

Jaehyun did it on instinct. He kissed your hand because in the moment it felt like the most natural thing to do. 

He doesn’t regret it.

He kisses it again. He lets his lips linger. And when Jaehyun lowers your hand back to his heart, he wonders if you can feel how wildly it beats and bangs from inside him.  

—THE GIFT OF FORTITUDE—

You feel it. You feel the wildness of your own heart as well.

—LORD JAEHYUN—

You stand like that for so long. You crying. Jaehyun looking into the eyes of God. Your hand against Jaehyun’s restless heart. 

You stand like that until you rip your hand away. He lets it fall from his grip. “Leave me be Jaehyun.” You say, tears still fleeing down your face.

He takes a step back from. “You’ve endured enough. Please, don’t make yourself endure this unhappiness too.”   

With that, he bids you goodnight, leaving you alone on the balcony with nothing but yourself, the sea, and Jaehyun’s coat. 

—THE GIFT OF FORTITUDE—

That night is long and slow, but the sun welcomes you with a new day of warmth. A new day that also happens to be Jaehyun’s birthday. You do your best to ignore the sadness inside of you. A sadness caused by more than just your want for normalcy. You look down at the hand Jaehyun held in his the night before. You look at your scorched knuckles. You don’t want to look into it any further. 

It storms the entire day, so you spend Jaehyun’s birthday inside playing cards, playing chess, and playing with the children. Insia announces she’ll be preparing a feast for dinner. Jaehyun thanks her then smiles, and to you, it looks sad.

***

There’s a knock on the door while you’re preparing yourself for dinner. You open it to Insia who looks you up and down, shakes her head, and mutters a small ‘that won’t do’ before disappearing down the hall. She returns moments later with a collection of her own dresses and lays them out on your bed. 

“How about this?” Insia offers holding up a red dress. 

You look down at the blue dress you already put on. “What’s wrong with this one?” 

“Nothing, I just thought you might want to dress up tonight.” 

“And why would I want to do that?” 

“For Jaehyun.” Insia says it blandly. 

You feel like the wind’s been knocked out of you. “For Jaehyun?” You echo. 

“Nevermind then,” Insia sighs, as if she’s talking to a child who won’t cooperate. She puts the dress down, and comes over, taking your hands in hers. What is it with these siblings and holding your hands? And why does it hurt so much when they do? “I was only giving you options. This dress is lovely too. I’m sure Jaehyun will be delighted no matter which dress you come to dinner in.” Insia leaves, and you ponder why in the world it would matter to Jaehyun which dress you came down in? Then you wonder why Jaehyun should take any delight in your appearance? The questions bring back a familiar sadness. 

The bodice of the dress Insia brought is fitting, and the skirt was made to flow beautifully. It’s a newer style, one of the many fashion trends that went over your head. But it is indeed a pretty dress, so you change into it anyways. 

Insia was right. Jaehyun looks delighted when you do eventually come down. Even you can’t look past the way his eyes seem to sparkle. “You look stunning.” He tells you as you make your way over to the dining room. “How come you’ve never worn this dress before?” 

“It isn’t mine.” You confess. “Insia lent it to me for the night.” 

“Ah,” Jaehyun exhales, “that makes much more sense. I wouldn’t have thought this dress to fit your style.” Jaehyun takes his seat, and you ponder yet again how Jaehyun has come acquainted with what is your style and what isn’t? 

The dinner is a feast like Insia had said, but still, you can’t bring yourself to enjoy it. Your mind feels heavy and restless. You desperately want to rid your brain of the thoughts that plague it, and so your eyes land mindlessly on Jaehyun. You watch the way he cares for his nieces and nephews and the way he listens when they talk. You watch him eat and the way he smiles and throws his head back in laughter. You watch and notice all these little things about Jaehyun and find that you care for each one of them. You care for them deeply. It makes your heart feel as heavy as your head. You stand up abruptly and excuse yourself from dinner early, unable to continue silently suffering the pain of your heavy heart and heavy head. You don’t hear Jaehyun follow you out. 

It’s when you’re halfway up the stairs that he catches up. 

“Please, Jaehyun. Go back.” You continue, not looking back. 

“No. Tell me what’s happened.” 

You turn a corner, your room now near. “Don’t let me ruin your birthday. Go back to the dinner your sister prepared for you.” 

You push your door open, and Jaehyun follows you inside. “Please, just tell me if you’re alright.” Jaehyun asks you so softly, so sweetly, it makes you feel impossibly frustrated. You wish Jaehyun wasn’t so gentle with you. It made it impossible to ignore the way your heart warms whenever he is near. 

“Why do you care?” You ask hashly, gathering fistfulls of Insia’s red dress in your hands. 

“I’ve always cared.” He sounds hurt, like the words have cut him.

“No Jaehyun, why? Why do you care?” If your words before cut him, this was you digging your fingers into the wound. 

“I care…” he falters, searching for something in your face. You wish he didn’t look at you the way he does. “I care because I worry for you.” 

“Well,” you huff, “why do you worry then?” Your words come out as more of an accusation than a question, although you yourself aren’t sure what it’s an accusation of. 

Jaehyun searches your face again, and his eyes, his beautiful eyes, burn over every spot they touch. He must find what he’s looking for because in an instant his face, no, his entire body softens and he crumples into the chair behind him. Head bowed before you. 

“I’m sorry,” he utters, “I’m sorry. I can’t hide this any longer. I can’t help it. I—“

You cut him off, crying. “Oh, please Jaehyun, don’t say it please.” You beg because you aren’t sure if you can bear to hear him say it aloud. And because you can’t ignore the desperation in Jaehyun’s voice. 

“I won’t hide it from you. I can’t hide it, not anymore, not now that you know because I do. I love you. And I’ve loved you for so long now.” 

You aren’t sure what makes you do it. Perhaps it’s the sadness in his voice or the love on his tongue. Perhaps you go towards Jaehyun because of your own will. But no matter the reason, you stand near where he sits and brushes the hair away from his eyes. He grabs your hand when you do and holds it against his head, bowing before it. As if he wouldn’t be able to stand it if your hand was doing anything but touching his face. As if he is offering his entire self to you. And you hate how much comfort you take in this. In having the back of your palm pressed against Jaehyun’s head. But you do, you take comfort in this little action. In this little declaration of love. 

You fling your hand out of Jaehyun’s grip and stumble to your bed, which you fall onto, burying your face into the soft sheets, weeping. You weep because you don’t like love. And because love will always lead to loss. And because you’re tired of losing. You weep because you don’t want to lose Jaehyun. 

And suddenly, Jaehyun is standing next to you. You can sense that Jaehyun is crying too. He caresses your hair gently. 

“I don’t mean to push my love on you. I just can’t bear to hide it anymore. Because hiding it feels like a lie, and I don’t wish to lie to you.” He pauses, his hand lingering behind your ear. “Please, don’t push me away. The last thing I want is for things to change.” And you know Jaehyun is smarter than to think this won’t change anything. Love had a way of forging its own path in life. He continues. “I can’t bear to lose you. I can’t fathom a life where I lose you. I love you but I don’t expect you to love me too. I never will. Don’t push me away. Please.” He presses a silent kiss to your hair, and it only makes you weep harder. 

“Leave me be, Jaehyun.” You say for the second time this weekend. And it hurts to say as much as it did before, because in actuality the last thing you want is for Jaehyun to be anywhere but by your side. But you send him away regardless because when he is near, your heart beats too fast for your mind to think of anything but him and his smile and his laugh. Jaehyun shuts the door quietly. 

You think how unfair it is that you should take so much pleasure in the kisses he presses to your hands and hair. And pleasure in his company and in every single innocent touch. You think how unfair it is that Jaehyun must love you. You think it’s unfair and cruel and mean and wrong. You cry for the unfairness of the world, and then you cry yourself to sleep as well. 

*** 

You spend the next day, your last day on this island, in your room. They bring you meals, but you aren’t able to eat a single one. You spend the whole day in your head. 

It’s evening when you do eventually leave your room. You go straight to Jaehyun’s, and slip a letter under the door.

—LORD JAEHYUN—

Jaehyun spends most of the day on the beach, throwing his worries into the reef and watching them roll away with the waves. When he returns to his room, he finds a letter from you. His heart stops. 

Dear Jaehyun, Last night, you said that you couldn’t bear to lose me. That you couldn’t fathom a life where you lose me. But the thing is, love has always led to loss, and I will always be the one losing. Because one day, you’ll die and I won’t. I don’t have to fathom a life without you. I just have to wait for it. I’m tired of loving and losing. One day, I’ll lose you as a friend, don’t make me lose you as a lover too. -Fortitude

When he finishes reading the letter, his heart starts beating again. Except that it doesn’t beat, it breaks. He had been reckless with his words. He isn’t going to make that mistake again. He writes you a letter of his own. 

—THE GIFT OF FORTITUDE— Dear Fortitude, Forgive me. I was careless and stupid with my words, and I can’t pretend to understand your specific pain. You told me once, long ago, that you aren’t immortal. Which means your pain is not forever either.  But even then, you are not alone in loss. We all love. We all lose. Everyone is bound for that sadness, including me and you. We know that and yet still, we wear our hearts on our sleeves and fall in love again and again, over and over. Don’t let the pain of loss keep you from the joy of love. Please.  -Jaehyun

You find yourself thinking of the time after the death of Avi. The time where you lived without love. The period of time that you’ve blocked from memory. Perhaps, Jaehyun is right. Perhaps there is no life without love. And not just romantic love, but platonic love, familial love, and love in all its forms. The thought feels heavy in your mind. 

***

You’re walking through the halls of the house at night when you find Jaehyun. He’s on the same balcony as two nights ago, staring at the sea. You stand in the hall and watch him. 

You recall how strong the wind was that night and how Jaehyun had an extra coat. You remember how warm it felt to have something of his draped over your shoulders. And looking back, it seems so simple. It seems obvious that when Jaehyun gave you his coat, it was more than just a kind gesture. It was a declaration of his love. It hits you then, how many times Jaehyun has told you, or rather showed you his love. He showed you when he held your hand against his beating heart and when he pressed kisses to your knuckles. He said ‘I love you’ every single time he listened to you talk and all those days he spent teaching you how to swim. He showed you when he let you jump from Angel’s Peak, when he didn’t let you sink, and when he carried you back to the beach. He told you that he loved you when he gave you a burning log to throw in the fire at his father’s memorial. He told you that day he ran in the sand with you, like the child you never got to be, and he said it each time he braided your hair. And like a wave crashing over, you realize that Jaehyun has been declaring his love in a million different ways since the day he offered the sea as yours to take. Your heart carries each one of these confessions, each one of Jaehyun’s silent declarations, until it sinks and sinks and sinks within your own body. 

In all your years, through all your loss, you’ve grown to dislike romantic love. But looking at him now, you realize Jaehyun’s love for you is more than just romantic. His love for you is one of respect and admiration. His love for you is one of understanding. His love for you is pure. Purer than any love you have known before. You look at Jaehyun again, really look at Jaehyun. You look at the way the moonlight bounces off his skin and hair, and the way he rests his elbows over the railing. You look at the way he bends one knee. You look at Jaehyun and see more than you’ve ever seen in him before. You look at Jaehyun and see a God. But not just any God, you see your God. And you have no idea what to do. 

It’s while staring at his figure on the balcony that you realize you love Jaehyun too. It’s then that you realize you have been falling in love with the little things since the day he took you to see the sea. But oh, how the little things were everywhere and everything. 

And suddenly the realization is bursting through the balcony doors and into the arms of the man you love. The realization pours out from your eyes and heart. The realization spills from your lips and paints itself across the night sky. The realization is screaming, breaking itself free. In your head, you chant. I love you. I love you. I love you. Out loud, you say, “And you must know, I’ll love you for a very long time.”

And Jaehyun’s laughing, holding you in his arms, blissfully, as if there’s nothing that could have made him happier. As if there’s no place he'd rather be than right here with you on this balcony overlooking the sea. He laughs and then leans his forehead against yours. “I love you too, and you must know that right now, I want to kiss you quite terribly.”

And because he loves you. And because you love him. And because he made you laugh after a weekend spent crying, you tilt up your chin and close the distance. For a moment, everything fits perfectly, and you, once again, feel shatteringly happy. 

—LORD JAEHYUN—

Jaehyun imagines the feeling fluttering in his chest that morning can only be described as bliss. But to him it is more. It’s more than blissful to wake up to you sleeping in his shirt on his bed tangled in his sheets and limbs. But alas, bliss would do for now. 

He takes his bliss and presses it to your shoulder then neck then jaw then cheek. He presses a number of blissful kisses to the infinite spots on your face he’s yet to kiss until you’re awake pushing at Jaehyun’s face.  

“I’m not ready to wake up,” you groan, turning your body flush against Jaehyun. 

“We’ll miss the boat back if we don’t get up soon.” He reminds, tracing mindless shapes against the curve of your hips. 

You sigh and bury your face deeper into his chest. “I’ve ruined our weekend haven’t I?” 

He pulls you impossibly closer. “You haven’t ruined anything.” 

***

The boat ride from the island back to the mainland is long and slow, and the entire time, Jaehyun is jumping in his seat, ready to return home. 

“You must miss him.” You mutter from next to him. Jaehyun doesn’t have to ask to know you’re talking about Younghoon. He nods, turning to you. 

“And how about you, what do you miss?” 

You look up at the sky, smiling. “I miss,” you tap on Jaehyun’s knee, “jumping from Angel’s Peak.” Jaehyun laughs, capturing the moment and capturing your hand in his.

When you do eventually dock, Jaehyun leads you away from the road home and towards the beach. He surprises himself with the gesture as much as he does you. By the time you reach the sand, you’re running. And you run and run and run. Past the estate. Whipping off your coats and shoes. Discarding your worries in the sand. Running. Wild. In love. You both run until you reach the rocks. And you’re climbing Angel’s Peak while Jaehyun’s diving, piercing his body into the water. You climb then run then jump, piercing the sea yourself moments later. And you both swim around each other ducking and diving in the water. 

Suddenly it’s a contest: who can hold their breath the longest. Jaehyun counts the seconds.  One. Two. (You kiss him) Three. Four. 

Five. (He kisses you) Six. 

You return to the estate finally, greeting Younghoon drenched and swollen with love. 

—THE GIFT OF FORTITUDE—

It’s the day after you and Jaehyun return from Insia and Cyrin’s home that you and Younghoon fight for the first time. In all honesty, you have been itching to fight with someone again ever since your talk with Jaehyun. And when you told Younghoon at dinner the night before, that you would be willing to fight him, he was itching to fight with you as well. 

For the first couple days, you start simple. A few rehearsed drills and fighting moves. Jaehyun usually watches, sitting in a corner of the courtyard with a book. And when you feel comfortable enough to do so, you advance to Younghoon attacking with jabs and punches here and there and you blocking them while also studying his technique. You learn that Younghoon is a good fighter, but his movements are choppy and slow as if he hasn’t fought in a while which in his defense, he hasn’t. You imagine Younghoon would be better equipped in a sword fight rather than the hand to hand combat you were drilling now. By the end of the first week, Younghoon gets restless, wanting to do more. You reluctantly agree. It’s fine at first, you focus mainly on deflecting his attacks and blocking his moves. When you sidestep from an attack, you see your chance and take it, punching Younghoon in the gut. You only realize after the fact that you’ve done it too hard. Nothing fatal, but a punch hard enough that if you had hit him an inch higher, his rib would’ve broken from the impact. You refuse to fight Younghoon for a while after that. When you do return to fighting, a whole week later back to the basic drills and blocking, you no longer allow Jaehyun to watch. 

—LORD JAEHYUN—

The days that follow are some of the happiest for Jaehyun. Jaehyun and you spend whole days in each other's bedrooms and under the sheets. Younghoon catches on to the two of you almost immediately. Perhaps he caught on before you realized anything yourselves. 

The other days you spend walking along the shore or drinking tea in the courtyard. And on the days Jaehyun must do work in his office, Younghoon and you play chess in the corner. You continue to send Risals: to Roen and Orindell and another unanswered one to Peter. 

You and Younghoon continue training without Jaehyun in attendance. Once you get the hang of controlling the strength of your blows and kicks with an almost frightening amount of precision, you let Jaehyun return to his spot in the corner. And even Jaehyun, who knows nothing about fighting, is amazed by your skill. Skill that is far too good to be fighting with Younghoon, who looks ready to die from exhaustion after every single one of your fights. And yet, despite the way you barely break a sweat, you look unbelievably happy after each and every fight. 

Word gets out eventually, likely thanks to Vina’s gossiping, that the Gift of Fortitude has fighting shows in the courtyard of Lord Jaehyun’s estate. And soon enough, every afternoon a flock of young boys, guards, and locally stationed Knights arrive at the courtyard to watch you fight. You no longer mind the crowd. A few brave Knights and guards even try challenging you. You go especially easy for the sake of their bodies, but spare no care when it comes to attacking their egos. But still, even those fights make you happy. 

The happiest you look, however, is when Vina asks you to teach her something. You make Vina begin immediately. And as it turns out you’re a wonderful teacher, although when Jaehyun mentions this, you deny it telling Jaehyun it’s only because you taught Juyeon and the Princes. Nonetheless, you teach Vina moves and tricks that would be useful to her like how to use the weight of her opponent against her and how to properly hold a knife and attack with it. It doesn’t take long for Jaehyun’s courtyard to be filled with young boys and girls alike all learning how to defend themselves and fight from you.

And every second that you aren’t teaching and Jaehyun isn’t working, you spend in the water, wading between the waves and floating on your backs. You jump from Angel’s Peak until you feel that you've outgrown it, beginning to search for higher cliffs in the horizon. You race each other from the docks to the rocks and hold numerous contests to see who can hold their breath for longer. You win everything every time, and Jaehyun has never been so happy. 

—THE GIFT OF FORTITUDE—

You’re sitting in the courtyard alone playing with the stray cats, when you hear the Risal’s call signaling the return of the letter you sent to the Golden Palace and to Price Orindell. 

Dear Fortitude, I regret to inform you that father has been acting oddly again. Roen and I suspect that he might be preparing to try another ‘experiment’. Roen fears what’s to come if we don’t hear from Peter soon. I take it you haven’t heard from him yourself. I’ve begun to worry for Peter as you do. Do you think he’s okay? Father wants me to cut the pay for the Knights, but how does he expect me to keep an army loyal to this kingdom if we don’t pay them properly? Honestly, Fortitude, I worry for father too. I know he must be taken off the throne, but I worry for him beyond the crown. I worry for his health. He’s getting sicker by the days. It’s difficult to see one’s own father spiral into madness. I’m already saddened with thoughts of how all this will turn out. I’m afraid I’ve made this letter into a collection of my worries. Do you think I worry too much? I hope you’re taking care of yourself. In better news, Captain Juyeon and his squadron have been stationed near Lord Jaehyun’s estate by the Commander himself. Consider it a gift from me to you. He should be arriving in a day or two. And please, give Juyeon a punch for me. - Orindell 

You think a visit from Juyeon might be the first piece of good news you’ve received from the palace in weeks. You jump up and run back into the estate to tell Younghoon and Jaehyun. 

***

You’re in the kitchen with Vina eating fruit when Juyeon arrives. 

“He’s here.” Jaehyun tells you, popping his head in the kitchen.

You snap up and look at Jaehyun as if waiting for him to admit he’s joking. He only nods. 

So you grab his hand and run. 

The first thing you do when you see Juyeon is punch him, as hard as Orindell would. 

“Ow!” He yelps, then tilts his head, confused. “Did your punches get weaker?” 

You finally hug him, and exhale into his shoulder. “That punch was from Orindell.” You pull away from the embrace. “And this one,” you punch his other arm, much harder than before but not any harder than he’s already used to, “is from me.” 

He winces, clutching both arms. “You could’ve just said no.”

You smile. “But where’s the fun in that.”

Once Juyeon, Jaehyun, and Younghoon have all been properly introduced, the other two give you and Juyeon some time to catch up. You take him to the beach for a walk. 

“How long are you staying?” 

Juyeon sighs. “Not long. We leave in two days.” 

You sigh as well. “That’s much too soon.” 

“Yes, but in lighter news,” Juyeon says, jostling you with his shoulder, “Orindell told me you two made peace.” 

“We did.” You hum with a smile. 

And so you continue to walk and talk along the shore. Juyeon tells you about all his travels in the time you’ve been apart. And you tell him about the time you’ve spent here, at Jaehyun’s estate. You tell him about jumping from Angel’s Peak and learning how to swim. You tell him about Jaehyun, Younghoon, Vina, Insia, Cyrin, and the kids. You tell him about how the fog in your mind is so much weaker than it was when you left from the Golden Palace, and how much you’ve been able to learn about your past and about yourself. Although you decide to wait to tell Juyeon the specifics. 

Juyeon listens closely, nodding his head along. Once you’re done, he smiles mischievously, a new question on his tongue. “And so how long did it take you to realize you’re in love with Lord Jaehyun?” 

Your mouth drops, and you look at Juyeon shocked. “Well, longer than it took you to put it together.” 

“Ah, well, not everyone is as clueless as you when it comes to matters of the heart.” He tells you with a laugh. “If the King knew how much you’re enjoying the southern sea, I think he’d whisk you back to the palace immediately. You look happy.” 

You turn your head towards the water and wait for a wave to crash before responding. “I am.” The admission seems to make Juyeon happy as well. “Also, I’ve been meaning to say, but I think it’s about time we fought each other, Captain Juyeon.” 

He stops in his tracks. “Really?” 

You nod. And then you tell him about how you’ve outgrown your fear of fighting and losing yourself in it. And how you’ve come to control your own strength against your opponent. “Every afternoon, either I’m teaching the local children how to fight or I’m fighting Captain Younghoon and one of the guards. But now that you’re here, I think it’s time I put all those years I spent teaching you how to fight to use.” You pause, waiting for his response. 

He grips your shoulders and smiles excitedly. “You should know, I have been waiting for this day since I was 17 years old.” 

***

“Please don’t beat the life out of me.” Juyeon jokes that afternoon as you face each other in the courtyard ready to fight. 

“I won’t. Although, I wish I could beat out of you your fear of Risals.” At that, Juyeon laughs. The courtyard is filled with Jaehyun, Younghoon, mina, the guards, Juyeon’s squadron, the other Knights, and your students all awaiting the match between Captain Juyeon, one of the best fighters in the Knights of the Holy Order, and the Gift of Fortitude. You find you’re also excited for this match. Juyeon is a good fighter. You trained him for over five years, and in that time, you taught him all your moves. He knows the way you pick your fights and plot your moves. And perhaps, after his training with the Knights, Juyeon will surprise you with some new moves that you have yet to see. That being said, you don't doubt your ability to win. You might struggle a bit more than you do when fighting with Younghoon, but the thought makes your blood jump with excitement more than anything. 

You circle each other for a second, and when Juyeon does charge towards you fist clenched, it takes you a moment to register that he’s moved before you dodge the punch. You block his arm with yours and use the momentum to twirl around him, bringing your knee up to jam into his side. He lunges at you again. And then once more. You let the second blow hit your stomach just to see how strong Juyeon is and regret it the moment you do. He’s strong, and your own tolerance for pain is low. You sidestep from his next kick and use the imbalance to tackle him to the ground. And in the few seconds it takes for him to react, you pummel into his stomach with the same force that he punched you with and slap him on the face once, although the slap is petty and harmless. He clutches his cheek with fake shock before pushing you off him and to the ground, your back on the grass. He pins down your arms. “Don’t blame me for your own decision to take the hit.” He teases while also landing punches to your stomach for the small second he has you caged under his own body weight. You exhale dramatically heaving your legs up to throw him off. It’s only once you’re up that you feel the pain of his blows, although the pain does not feel as bad as it did before. You’re both on your feet again. Circling each other. Punching and kicking faster than you’ve seen in a while and faster than you’ve had to do yourself in years. You’re tackling each other to the ground in one moment and back on your feet in the next. Juyeon is fast. And you feel rusty fighting him. He’s punching and lunging at you with no rest even managing to hit you on some occasions but not in the way he wants for you’re always able to duck or twist your body just in time for the impact. You swipe your leg under his and it takes almost all your strength for the move to topple him onto his back. You find yourself thinking that you’ve instilled in Juyeon the importance of a good stance too well. But once he’s on his back, you kick him onto this stomach and quickly pounce onto him, trapping his hands behind his back with one hand and using your other hand to push his face into the grass. You use one foot to pin down both of his legs by the ankle and shove your other knee into the small of his back. 

“Surrender.” You pant. 

You lift his head up out of the grass by his hair. You’re surprised to hear that he’s laughing although it comes out ragged behind his heavy breathing. “I surrender.” 

And you fall onto your back in the grass next to him, clutching your stomach that’s beginning to ache with your own laughs. You are exhausted and jumping within your own body from the excitement all at the same time. You lay on the grass utterly delighted with the fight.

And once the people in the courtyard realize it’s ended, they erupt in an applause. 

—THE GIFT OF FORTITUDE—

It’s at dinner with everyone that you tell Juyeon all that you’ve remembered in the past months. You tell him about the Holy Wars and Lord Seth’s death. At last, you give him an answer to the question about the Nomads he asked that night back at the Golden Palace. He seems satisfied with all that you’ve told him, as if the pieces are finally coming together and in a sense, they are.  

“So then there’s just one more question left to ask.” He muses, sitting back in his chair. “Do you remember what else you told Peter the night before he left?” 

You suck in a breath. Had you told him something else? Perhaps whatever else you told Peter that night had something to do with why you advised him to go to the Nomads’ Land specifically, beyond their connection with the Elders. Perhaps it had something to do with—

oh. 

Suddenly your head splits into two, and in the chasm that emerges, you remember. 

“I do.” You breathe, cradling your head in your hands and unbelieving of your own memories. “Who told you?” 

“Peter told Roen and Orindell before he left. Orindell told me. We all had questions for you. But Roen was always on some eastern campaign, and you and Orindell weren’t even talking. I tried asking you, but you denied it every time I brought it up. You could barely remember before, but today you said that you’re remembering more now. You said the fog in your mind is clearing. Is it clear enough to tell me more? Do you remember enough to explain why you said what you did?” 

You’re silent, trying to make sense of your own foggy memories. It’s Jaehyun who eventually asks it. He leans towards you, and the hand he places on your hunched back feels like a vote of confidence and another of comfort, “are you alright?” You nod. He waits a beat. “What did you tell Peter that night?”

You look at Jaehyun. Then Younghoon. Then Juyeon; he nods. All three watch you carefully. 

“I told him that…” you gulp, picking at the table and then your shirt as well, “I told him one of the Seven Sins is still alive. I sent him to the Nomads’ Lands because I think they’ll know how to find the Sin” 

Jaehyun and Younghoon look at you insanely, almost as insanely as you feel. 

Juyeon starts laughing at the madness of it all. 

It’s a hard thing for you to explain, but you try anyway. “I know it’s difficult to believe. But I know it in my gut, and I think I’ve known it for quite some time now.” You tell them how when the Gifts arrived at your village and pronounced you the Gift of Fortitude, it was like you had been relieved of this lump in your throat or like they had reached into your stomach and pulled out a rock sitting at the bottom. It was only after the Holy Wars ended, with the signing of a treaty by you and Avi, that you realized the lump in your throat and the rock in your gut had returned. But you lived with the lump for so long and learned to tolerate the rock so well that you almost forgot about it entirely. That was until one day you woke in your rooms at the Golden Palace to a clear throat and empty stomach. You didn’t even realize what it meant until the week you told Peter.

And somewhere in the midst of recounting everything to Jaehyun, Juyeon, and Younghoon, your mind feels suddenly, blissfully clear. That night, you do more than just remember.

You shoot up from your seat, startling all three of them. You find paper in the next room and begin to write to Peter. Because in your clarity, you see more than you’ve ever seen before. You know how to help Peter find the Sin. Your hand flies across the paper, clarity leading the pen with a mind of its own. And by the time you’re done, Jaehyun, Younghoon, and Juyeon have followed you into the kitchen. All four of them stare at your scribblings. 

“What is that?” 

“I think it’s supposed to be a letter.” 

“No, no. It’s a drawing.” 

“Actually,” you cut all three of them off, “I think it’s meant to be a map.” 

The three boys share a look. 

“What do you mean you think?” 

“You’re the one who drew it, how can you not know?” 

“I still think it’s a drawing.”

“Please.” You spit at the boys, grinding your teeth at the bubbling pain in your head. “It’s a map. And it’s for Peter.” You retrieve your Risal, and pray silently that your message finds him, and that he’ll be able to make sense of your muddled clarity. “Peter will know.” You add before whispering his name to the Risal and watching the bird disappear into the night sky. 

Juyeon shifts his weight between his feet. The question that leaves his lips sounds painfully hopeful. “You really can’t remember?”

Then, all at once, your pain returns. Blurring your vision, making you feel nauseous and unsure. Your body, your mind, your limbs feel weak. Weaker than after you swim for miles with Jaehyun. Weaker than after your fight with Juyeon. This pain is more than physical. This pain consumes you. It infiltrates your entire being. But this is a pain you know. This is how you feel every time the fog in your mind reclaims its territory. 

You fall to your knees, Jaehyun catching you in his arms before you hit the ground completely. You grimace into his shoulder. He says something to Younghoon who shuffles away hurriedly before carrying you in his arms away from the kitchen and back to your bedroom. The last thing you remember before everything turns black is the pain in your head and Jaehyun’s voice in your ear. 

—LORD JAEHYUN—

Jaehyun can’t sleep that night. He sits by your bedside instead and waits for you to wake up, unable to erase the look on your face moments before you passed out. Jaehyun is no stranger to the fog in your mind, but at dinner something was different, off. When you first started telling Jaehyun about your past, you suffered from headaches often, but as time passed and as your past became a familiar topic of conversation, the headaches faded away. Jaehyun can’t even remember the last time you requested the migraine medicine from Vina. And more than that, you never seemed to forget what you remembered with Jaehyun. But last night was nothing like what Jaehyun had seen before. In one moment, you knew everything with a startling amount of certainty, and then in the next, you were kneeling on the floor, crying in pain. Jaehyun can’t seem to rid his mind of the look on your face, a look that expressed more than just your pain, a look that screamed confusion. Jaehyun can’t forget how lost you looked in your own mind and how hard you were trying to claw your way out. Jaehyun tries to think of something else. 

He hears rustling beside him, and you’re up, attempting to sit up in the bed. He coaxes you into laying back down. And once you’re really awake, rubbing circles to your temples, Jaehyun asks if you’re feeling any better. 

“Not by much.” You groan, dropping your hands on the bed. 

Jaehyun takes a seat on the bed, leaning his back against the headboard. He takes your free hand in his and squeezes. “Tell me what you remember.”

And so you do. “Was it a map that I sent to Peter?” You ask once you’ve reached the end. Jaehyun nods, and you sigh an ‘oh’ turning your head away. 

A silence engulfs the room, and there’s something in your voice when you whisper, “why is it that I can’t remember why I sent it?” that makes a piece of Jaehyun break. He doesn’t know what to say. So you stare at the ceiling until you silently slip back into sleep. 

—THE GIFT OF FORTITUDE— The Risal returns the next day while you and Jaehyun are sitting at the rocks alone. It’s been months since anyone has heard from Peter, so when the Risal lands on your arm dropping a letter in your lap, you’re more than just shocked. You read it silently. 

Dear Fortitude,  Firstly, I presume I should apologize for not answering any of your previous Risals. I had no good news to share. That is, until now. We’ve deciphered your code. We know exactly what to do now. I’m not sure how you knew this was what we needed to finish. Meet us at my castle. From there, we’ll go together. The end is near.  -Peter

“What’s it say?” Jaehyun questions. You look at him softly before handing him the letter to read for himself. 

He’s quiet then, “oh.” He folds the letter, placing it back in your lap. “I thought you said it was a map.” 

“Jaehyun.” You whisper, not letting him ignore the thoughts and worries that plague both your minds. 

He pouts and looks out towards the sea. When he speaks at last, he does it so softly, it makes a part of you burn. “You should go.” 

You hurl a small rock into the water. “What if I don’t want to?” 

“I hate to say it, but you—“ 

“I know.” You take a shallow breath. “I have to.” 

Things are put into place quietly after that. All of the Princes have their own castle although none of them spend much time at them. Peter’s castle is northwest of King’s City, a day's worth of riding with a strong horse. You would ride with Juyeon’s squadron to King’s City, and from there you would ride to Peter castle which was built right into the side of the western mountains alone. It would take you three days of riding if you’re lucky. Five days if you’re not. In truth, you don’t want to leave Jaehyun's estate, and you most certainly don’t want to bid goodbye to the sea. 

This is what you want: to throw yourself off of Angel’s Peak like a sack of flour. You want to swim in the cold, freezing water. You want to swim away from the kingdom. From the King. From your worries. From your fears. You want to swim far far away to some remote, undiscovered island where you no longer have to be the Gift of Fortitude. And you want to do it all with Jaehyun. 

But you pack your bags instead, send Peter a Risal telling him you’ll arrive at his castle soon. You say goodbye to Jaehyun and Younghoon that night. You and Juyeon would be leaving before they wake. And later that night, you go to Jaehyun’s room and sleep in his bed and cry into his pillow because you don’t want to leave. But more than that, you don’t want to leave him. You say goodbye again. 

—LORD JAEHYUN—

Jaehyun jolts out of bed. He feels disgustingly cold when he realizes that he’s woken up alone. That you’re already gone. But then he hears shouting and horseshoes against pavement from out of his window. He looks behind the curtains and makes out six figures on horseback, just beginning to ride away from the estate. He’s running out of his room, slipping on shoes and a shirt, and dragging his horse out of the stables, desperately trying to catch up to Juyeon’s squadron and needing to catch up to you. 

He’s riding faster than wind through the town roads, screaming your name. And when he finally catches up to you, in the forest path, he leaps off his horse and runs to you. You see him at the same time he sees you, jumping off your horse as well and flinging yourself into Jaehyun’s arm. Only once he’s embracing you in his arms does Jaehyun realize he’s crying. Juyeon leads his squadron further down the path, slowly so that you can catch up afterwards, but away to give you privacy. 

“You didn’t say goodbye.” He cries into your hair. 

“I didn’t want to wake you.” 

“You should’ve. I barely sleep as it is.” 

“All the more reason not to, Jaehyun.” 

He squeezes his arms around you. 

“Ask me to stay.” You whisper into his neck, sad and lonely. 

“I can’t.” He whispers back. You pull away and look at his face. Swiping your thumbs across his cheeks. 

“Tell me you hate me then.” You weep. “And that you want me to go. Tell me you want me far away from here.“

“Fortitude—” 

“Tell me something to make me hate you.” 

“—I can’t.” 

You inhale sharply, grabbing fitfulls of his shirt in your hands. “Then tell me something that will make it easier to bear the pain of leaving you.” 

He pushes a strand of hair behind your ear, noticing that your hair is in a braid. Jaehyun hesitates. “Did you do your hair yourself? When did you learn how to braid it?”

You slap his chest. “You dummy. I’ve known how to braid since the first time you showed me.” And then you’re crying again, burying your face into his chest. Jaehyun’s laughing and crying, stroking your braided hair because how foolish is it you both should have wanted nothing more than to be near each other since the very beginning. And how foolish is it that it took you so long to admit, to yourselves and to each other. 

“I love you.”

“Not that,” you bawl, “tell me anything but that.” 

“I love you.” He repeats. “And one day, when all this is over, we’ll go west. To where the mountains meet the sea. So that you’ll have an infinite number of cliffs to throw yourself off of.” You nod, laughing through the tears. Jaehyun kisses you. Once. Twice. Again. And over. 

“I’ll come back, Jaehyun.” You promise. “I’ll come back here, to you.” 

“Well, yeah, you have to.” You look at him confused but amused. He continues softly. “Because the sea is still yours to take.” 

You laugh once. Kiss him twice. Then mount your horse riding down the path again. And Jaehyun watches you go, holding your last I love you to his chest.

a/n: i feel a little odd and scared to be reposting this piece... again. but i’ve been flirting with the idea of reposting it for tbz for too long for me to not lol. also i didn’t edit or proofread this very thoroughly so if the names got mixed up somewhere within this monster then thats why my bad

[sourwolf-sterek32]

Welcome to the End

Summary: Y/N Winchester was a hunter like her brothers, following in their fathers footsteps. Saving people, hunting things, the family business.

During a case in Georgia, you meet the Dixon brothers and after saving Daryl’s life against a Chupacabra, the two of you become close. But, when the zombie apocalypse starts, life as you know it changes forever.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Winchester!Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Language, descriptions of blood, injury and violence.

Chapter 16-

You and Daryl were locked inside that small room for at least a few days.

Dwight gave you dog food covered bread as food, but that was it and you were getting pretty sick of it.

It was cold inside the room and you quickly realised that body warmth was the only way to get you both to stop shivering. The two of you spend those few days cuddled together in the dark, just waiting to see what was going to happen next.

You didn't sleep, you kept guard whenever Daryl slept and talked to him about anything and everything when he was awake to get you to forget about your father and brothers.

But, you must have fallen asleep eventually because the next thing you knew, you awoke with a gasp, your forehead laced with cold sweat as you breathed heavily. Images of your father bashing in Abrahams head filling your dreams.

Suddenly, a pair of hands grabbed your bare shoulder causing you to jump in panic.

"S'just me. Ya okay? What's wrong?" Daryl's gruff voice questioned as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his side.

That was all it took before tears silently trickled down your cheeks. You weren't even sure why you were crying. You barely knew Abraham, you didn't have the right to feel sad about his death especially since it was your father that caused it and your brothers were on his side.

Daryl didn't say anything for a while as he let you cry into him, his free hand rubbing soft circles over your shoulder.

"I'm sorry." You whispered, wiping your teary eyes as you curled into Daryl's side, partly because it was freezing inside the cell, but also needed the comfort as Daryl's grip tightened around your body.

"Ain't nothin' to apologise for. We'll work it out, we always do."

You nodded in response when suddenly music began blasting through the room, causing you both to jump as your ears began to ring from the loud noise.

Your super hearing highly sensitive to loud noises as you tried to cover your ears with your hands, but there was no point. The music was too loud as Daryl's hand suddenly grabbed your arm, silently comforting you as you tried to ignore the ridiculously happy song.

You thought the song would finish and it would go back to be being silent, but it kept playing on repeat.

You weren't sure how much time had passed, but you learnt that the song lasted for a minute and 45 seconds roughly. Although the song always lasted the same amount of time, the gaps between the song varied. Sometimes it would only be a few seconds before the song would start up again, but sometimes it would be over an hour. 

There wasn't any pattern to it, it was just random, but you were grateful whenever there was a long gap between songs, giving you and Daryl time to actually talk and sleep because you were pretty sure he was the only thing keeping you sane right now.

"I have never hated music so much in my entire life and that's saying something for someone who's dealt with Dean's music for hours non-stop in the Impala" You commented, hating how tired your voice sounded.

You rested your head back against the wall behind you, your thigh resting against Daryl's as reassurance that he was still beside you since neither of you could see anything in the dark room.

"Dean's music wasn't that bad." Daryl responded, his voice sounding as exhausted as you felt.

"It was bad if you're driving across the county for a hunt and have nothing else to listen to." You chuckled softly remembering all those long drives, sitting in the back of the Impala with Cas, sometimes swapping seats with Sam in the front when he got sick of Dean. You missed those old days.

-

Eventually Dwight threw clothes to you and Daryl, matching dirty white pants and jumpers, his had the letter 'A' spray painted on the front and yours was an 'W' which seemed to fit fairly well.

Dwight had taken the two of you out the cell a couple of times, showing you the walker fence and threatening to hang you both on there as walkers if you didn't agree to work for Negan, but like hell either of you were gonna agree to that.

You finally had your chance to escape when one of Negan's other soldiers forgot to lock your cell door after throwing you bread and dog food which was why right now the two of you were silently walking down the hallway of the Sanctuary trying to find a way out.

Daryl lead the way while you followed close behind, sticking close to the wall for protection and staying in the shadows.

You came across a t-section causing Daryl to quickly stop as he looked left and right before glancing over at you with a questioning look.

Before you had a chance to answer, you heard the faint sound footsteps in the distance.

Quickly, you grabbed Daryl's hand and pulled him in the opposite direction. You knew he couldn't hear the footsteps, but he didn't say anything, trusting your instincts as he let you lead him down the hallway.

It didn't take long before you reached another t-section as Daryl stuck his head around the corner trying to see if the coast was clear when suddenly a hand reached out and grabbed both your shoulders.

Acting on pure instinct you spun around, letting go of Daryl's hand as you went to punch whoever it was before you realised that it was a woman.

You haltered your movement slightly and quickly noticed that Daryl had done the same. She was wearing a spotted black dress and by the look of her nearly done hair and makeup it was clear that she must be one of Negan's wives.

"Go back while you can. Whatever he's done to you, there's more. There's always more. You won't get away and when you're bad, it'll be worse." The woman whispered and you knew it was a warning.

Why would she try and warn you? Why would she try and help you?

You didn't get much time to dwell over it because the next thing you knew, Daryl grabbed your hand and lead you down the hallway, not listening to the woman.

A minute later you spotted a door at the end of the hallway. Bright light shone through the small glass square in the centre of the door, indicating that it lead outside and without saying a word the two of you quickly rushed towards the door. Before opening it you looked through the glass, realising that it lead to some courtyard type area, but it seemed to be empty of people and your eyes instantly landed on the row of motorcycles to the left.

Daryl must have seen the motorcycles as well because the next thing you knew, he opened the door and ran to the bikes.

You watched as Daryl looked over each bike, probably trying to find a key or one that was easy to hotwire when suddenly a door to the right slammed open.

A couple men began marching out, their eyes trained on the two of you.

In an instant, you grabbed Daryl's shoulder and pulling him in the opposite direction before more men walked out from around the corner of the building. All of them surrounding you in seconds and you quickly realised that this had been set up.

This was a trap and you both fell for it.

The two of you quickly got back to back, ready to try and fight your way out of this. Two against 10, you didn't have a chance, if your powers were working even slightly, you' be able to take them, but you were still too weak.

Suddenly the big guy from earlier stepped forward and pulled out Rick's Colt and aimed it towards the two of you.

You barely even had a moment to process that fact that he had Ricks gun before Negan's signature whistle filled the air and you froze.

You and Daryl both turned around spotting your father walking towards you, his bat slung over his shoulder as he stared at the two of you with a shit eating grin.

"Are we pissing our pants yet?" Your father questioned as one of his men stepped to the side letting him inside the circle they had created around the two of you as he stopped directly in front of you.

"Who are you?" He asked, pointing his bat towards the big guy.

"Negan." The guy answered and you frowned in confusion.

"Who are you?" Negan asked, pointing towards a different guy.

"Negan."

"Who are you?" He asked with a grin and all the men around you answered with 'Negan'. "See that? I am everywhere. And this was your shot to prove to me that fundamental fact was sinking in, and you failed. Which sucks, because your lives were about to get so much cooler. Am I right?"

"Damn right." All the men around you responded.

You were slowly starting to realise just how much power and control your father had over his people. No, it wasn't your father, deep down you knew that. But, it didn't help that whoever this Negan person was, that he was in your fathers body.

"Now, Dwight gave you some options." Negan began to say, focusing his attention on you and Daryl. "I don't think you get it yet. So, I'm gonna break it down for you. You get three choices. One, you wind up on the spike and you work for me as a dead man. Two, you get out of your cell, you work for points, but you're gonna wish you were dead. Or three, you work for me, you get yourself a brand-new pair of shoes, and you live like a king! Choice seems pretty obvious. You should know, there is no door number four. This is it. This is the only way."

Daryl didn't say anything as he glared at Negan from underneath his hair and you could feel your body starting to shake in fear of what Negan was going to do because you knew that Daryl would never say yes to him.

"Screw it." Negan responded and before you even realised what was going on he suddenly raise his bat and swung it at Daryl's head.

"NO!" You screamed, your hands shooting up, getting ready to stop the bat from connecting with Daryl's face, but to your shock Negan stopped the bat only inches away from Daryl's head as you stared at the two of them with wide eyes.

"Wow! You don't scare easy." Negan observed as he lowered the bat and took a step away. "I love that. But Lucille... well, it kind of pissed her off. She finds it to be disrespectful. Lucky for you, she's not feeling too thirsty today. But I am. So I'm gonna go get me a drink!" Negan announced as he began to walk away.

Your eyes locked with Daryl's panicked blue ones for a second before you turned your attention back to the group of men who were slowly walking closer to you and you knew you were screwed.

Daryl didn't hesitate as he punched the man closest to you before he turned to the next and punched him too and you quickly joined in. Throwing punches and kicking the men away, despite the pain it caused your injured hand.

You stuck by Daryl's side as you fought back until one of the men landed a nasty punch to Daryl's stomach, knocking the wind out of him as he fell to his knees trying to suck air back into his lungs.

The Saviours quickly took advantage of his vulnerability, kicking and punching him even more and that's when your eyes started to glow purple.

"Stop!" You screamed, raising your hands as you used your powers.

In a split second all the Saviours were floating in the air before you threw them into the side of the building, killing them all instantly.

You could feel blood starting to drip from your nose and the all too familiar ringing in your ears started as you dropped to the ground beside Daryl.

Your head started to spin from using in your powers and the last thing you saw was Negan walking towards you before your world turned black.

-

The first thing you were aware of when you started to wake up again was soft chatting in the background.

Slowly you opened your eyes, but frowned as you stared up a ceiling that definitely didn't belong to the cell you and Daryl were in.

Your head was thumping in pain as you tried to figure out what happened before it suddenly came flooding back.

You had used your powers. Shit, you must have passed out.

You quickly tried to sit up before you realised that your hand was tied to something.

Glancing down at your injured hand, you noticed that it was no longer injured. It was perfectly fine which just caused you to frown even more.

How long were you unconscious for?

You could see a heavy set of handcuffs clamped around your wrist and you followed the thick chain and realised that it was hooked to the wooden bedframe, but you didn't miss the angelic sigils carved into the metal which meant you couldn't break it. 

How'd they know how to do that?

"Look who's finally awake." Your fathers voice called out.

Despite the cuffs, you managed to sit yourself up, realising that you were on someone's bed before you spotted your father standing on the other side of the room, but your eyes quickly flashed over to Carl who was standing beside him.

"Carl?" You questioned in disbelief as the boy stared at you in relief now that you were awake before you looked back at Negan. "What the hell is he doing here? Where's Daryl? If you hurt him, I swear to God-"

"Relax. Your redneck boyfriend is fine. I was just about to take Carl back to Alexandria, being the good person I am." Negan responded and you looked back over at Carl, your eyes scanning the boys body for any signs of injuries, but you did notice that his bandage had been removed from his eye and you immediately knew Negan was responsible for that because Carl never took it off.

"How'd you know to put sigils on the cuffs? How do you know what I am?" You questioned sceptically.

"Honestly? A man named Chuck warned me that someone with powers would show up one day and try destroy everything I have built. I thought he was bullshitting me until I met you and saw for myself what you're capable of."

Chuck had told him? But, you killed Chuck. How was that possible?

"Where is this Chuck guy now?" You asked cautiously because if Chuck was here and alive well... you were in trouble.

"Fucked if I know. I met him at the start of all of this and then he just disappeared."

"Does the name John Winchester mean anything to you?" You suddenly asked and you watched as Negan's body suddenly tensed up as he stared at you with an unreadable expression.

He recognised the name, but he didn't say anything.

"That is your name. Your name is John Winchester and you used to hunt the supernatural. Your wife's name was Mary and-"

"My name is Negan and my wife's name was Lucille." He corrected, staring at you in amusement.

It was clear that he didn't believe what you were saying in the slightest, but if there was a chance that your father was still in there somewhere, you were going to try.

"No. You married a woman named, Mary. And had two boys, Dean and Sam. Mary died when Sam was only a few months old and then you met an angel named Lucille and the two of you had a little girl who had some of her mothers angelic powers." You explained, staring at Negan trying to find anything in his expression that indicated towards him remembering, but there was nothing.

"Whatever mind games you're trying to play, it's not going to work." 

"It's the truth. How do you think you knew about the supernatural in the first place? Your wife had long blonde hair, your first car was a '67 Chevy Impala and you have this tattoo on your chest." You continued, pulling down the collar of your jumper to expose your anti-possession tattoo that you had on your chest and Negan's eyes widened in shock and you knew all of what you said must be true. "Look, that Chuck guy you spoke to? That's God. And I think he has done something to you and you honestly believe that you're Negan, but you're not. Your name is John Winchester and you'd never do this. You'd never kill innocent people and rule over communities through fear. The real you would never do that."

Negan didn't say anything for a moment as he stared at you, almost seeming lost for words which you figured rarely happened for him.

Your eyes flashed over to Carl who's jaw was slightly open as he stared at you in shock and you realised that Carl and the others back home didn't know about Negan being your father.

"That's batshit crazy. Why are you persistent about this?" Negan questioned, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Because my name is Y/N Winchester and I'm your daughter."

Negan didn't say anything for a second before his face broke out into a grin as he began to laugh.

"You must have hit your head when you passed out. Don't worry, I'll send the doc up here to check on you. But, I should get going, give this kid back to his father." Negan stated turning back to Carl as he grabbed the boys shoulder and lead him out the door leaving you sitting on the bed even more confused than you were earlier.

Was this one of Chucks sick plans? Did he do this or was this something else entirely?

You honestly had no idea, but the one thing you did know was that you needed to get the hell out of here. If Negan was leaving to go to Alexandria, then this was your chance to get Daryl and escape. Except there was a small problem... you were still handcuffed to the bed and there was no way you could break the cuffs with the sigils on them.

You stared down at the cuffs on your hand for a while before your eyes landed on the wooden bedframe. You might not be able to get the handcuff off your wrist, but you could break the wooden post instead.

Without a further thought you quickly grabbed the end of the handcuff and despite your powers being affected you were still stronger than most people. You yanked the handcuff once and grinned hearing the wooden post crack. You yanked on the cuffs a few more times before the wooden bed post snapped clean off.

You slid the end of the cuff off the wooden post, tossing the wood onto he bed before you stood up. The now empty cuff dangled from your wrist, but you figured that was a problem for later. Rick could cut it with his axe or something, right now you needed to get out here.

You grabbed the dangling cuff with your cuffed hand, to silencing the chains from clanking together before you walked out the bedroom.

It didn't take long before you reached the door to Daryl's cell as you twisted the lock and pulled the door open to find Daryl sitting in the corner of the room.

He glanced up at the door, probably expecting to find Dwight, but his eyes widened when he saw you standing there.

"Fancy a prison break, Dixon? C'mon, let's get out of here." You quickly said, glancing down the hallway to make sure nobody was coming and a second later Daryl was on his feet as he rushed over to you and pulled you into a tight hug.

"Thought ya were dead." He whispered into your neck as you hugged him back and smiled softly.

"Can't get rid of me that easily. Are you okay? Those pricks got a few good swings in before I killed them."

You pulled away from Daryl, your hands still on his shoulders as you scanned his body for injuries, noticing the already fading bruises over his face.

"Y/N, that was three days ago." Daryl said and you froze.

You were unconscious for three days? Well, that was news to you. Usually you'd just pass out for a few minutes if you over used your powers, but three days was new.

"No wonder my arm is sore, been in these cuffs for three damn days." You responded, holding your left hand up as Daryl frowned at the chains realising that your wrist was no longer injured. "I still heal quickly, just not as quick as usual."

You grabbed Daryl's hand with your free one and with that two of you began running down the hallway.

You barely made it around the corner before you could hear footsteps heading in your direction. Daryl quickly opened the nearest door and pulled you inside, closing the door behind himself as you held your ear to the door listening for the footsteps.

Daryl began to go through the room, finding an old flannel shirt and peanut butter. You watched as Daryl yanked off the dirty jumper and threw on the flannel while eating the peanut butter, offering you some, but you shook your head.

"They're gone, let's go." You instructed.

Daryl nodded in agreement as the two of you quietly snuck out the room.

You continued to jog down the dark hallway and before long you reached the door that lead to the small courtyard outside and you just hoped like hell that those motorcycles were still parked out there.

You quickly opened the door, rushing outside and you sighed with relief spotting the eight motorcycles lined up to the left and Daryl immediately made his way towards them while you stood watch.

"This one has the key. C'mon."

You began to make your way over to him before you heard footsteps again.

"Someone's coming." You whispered, glancing over at Daryl.

He quickly stopped what he was doing, picking up a lead pipe from the ground beside him just as Joey walked around the corner, about to bite into his sandwich before his eyes landed on the two of you and he froze.

"Whoa. Whoa. It's cool, I swear." Joey quickly said, raising his hands as he dropped his sandwich. His eyes flashing between the two of you in panic.

"Buddy, you guys can walk right through that back gate there and I won't say anything to anybody. I'm suppose to be there now, but listen... I'm-I'm just trying to get by just like you, please." Joey pleaded.

You weren't entirely sure what to do, but it didn't seem to matter because Daryl handled it by killing the man with a pipe. You just stood back watching, not entirely sure killing Joey was necessary, but you weren't about to stop him.

"Daryl?" A familiar voice called out and your eyes shot towards the voice to find Jesus rushing around the corner, staring at Daryl who just finished bashing Joey's head in with the pipe.

You opened your mouth about to ask why Jesus was here or how he even got here in the first place, but before you could even get a word out more footsteps filled the air and you quickly turned.

Daryl must have sensed something was wrong because he was by your side in an instant as you stared at the door to the building.

"What's wrong?" Jesus questioned, reaching your side as he followed your line of sight, staring at the door in confusion.

A second later, the door was kicked open by one of Negan's men, but your attention was purely focused on the man who walked out behind him.

Dean. 

-

MASTERLIST

Next Chapter

-Gifs used are not mine. Credit to rightful owners.

[carinyms]

I've scrolled through a lot of discourse on episode 4 of Loki and I need to talk about it

(good lord its a whole essay im sorry)

I gave myself a headache from crying while watching this. (I joined the Loki fandom post-IW so I’ve never had to see him die before while emotionally invested and boy!!! Is it doing things to my fragile psyche!!). But now I’m rehydrated and more stable and ready to party so let’s go

Right off the bat, I loved this episode — loved it loved it loved it. Silly, manic in-shock Loki is gone and shit is getting real. My thought while watching this was truly “wow this is my favorite episode so far” and damn am I in a minority with this opinion lol.

So here’s my perspective on some of the discourse flying around, and just general thoughts

On the whole ‘Narcissist’ thing:

IMO, Mobius saying this means nothing: he’s mad and he’s spouted lies at Loki to push his buttons before (see: every interaction they’ve had since episode 1).

Loki saying this to Sif-- well, Loki is and always has been an unreliable narrator on himself. The major theme of this show is that he doesn’t really know who he is, deep down, and he’s trying to figure it out. The TVA is taking advantage of this, and even though he’s trying to stay above it all throughout the series, he's still in a really impressionable spot and absorbing what others tell him about himself. (not to mention this scene is literal torture and he’s already proven that he’ll say whatever he needs to to get out of it.)

But he does admit one true thing when he says “It’s because I’m scared of being alone.” (And like wow okay same don’t mind my tears) but here’s a big brain idea!

Sif pulls him up and says ‘You are alone, and you always will be’, which is like, WOW that’s cruel after what he said, but it makes me ask wonder: Sif is sentient in this scene, but obviously it’s not really her. Who’s controlling her? And why is it so important for them to make sure Loki thinks he’s alone? I’d go as far as to wager that Sif never even said this to Loki, the big bad made this up. (he admits he forgot about this ever happening, I doubt he’d remember what she said.)

I think the nexus event on Lamentis that caused the branch was two Loki’s joining sides. Or, Loki no longer being alone. Loki insists while talking to Mobius that “she’s not my partner!” but she was, and they were partners from the moment they grabbed hands on Lamentis — right when the timeline broke off. I think Loki variants teaming up is the biggest threat to whoever is pulling the strings here — that’s why the post-credit scene is so significant. (Is Loki the only person who has multiple variants of himself who've escaped the TVA?)

And here’s where I’m gonna get salty--so I apologize but i need to rant about this-- but it’s seriously pissing me off that so many people are intentionally reading this as Loki/Sylvie and then being mad about it when that’s clearly not what’s happening and why is everyone acting like Mobius with one angry jealous brain cell and no critical thinking about the context of the characters.

If people ship it that’s chill, but for the people who are against it—it’s clearly supposed to be platonic, and it’s so upsetting that in the year of our lord 2021 we still can’t have a man and woman hold hands without people saying it’s proof they want to f*ck each other, like what in the misogyny??? STOP. This show was written by a bi woman and Tom the-most-emotionally-sensitive-man-on-this-planet Hiddleston — let them display an intimate loving friendship goddammit. This isn’t romance, this is Loki learning how to admit he cares for someone who cares for him in return — something he hasn’t experienced a whole lot of and clearly doesn’t know how to navigate.

(You have permission to personally come at me if it actually turns out to be romantic by the end of the show—but as of right now I will die on this hill.)

Him putting his hands on her shoulders to me was a clear indication he wanted to hug her, and I’d like to think he would have told her he cares about her, and that they can figure it out together. Because these are two characters who’ve never had anyone else to rely on and trust, and for the first time they’re not alone.

And I have to think about what prompted this from Loki. He just lost Mobius the moment after he called him friend. The way I see it, he’s just realized the true gravity of what they’re up against, and Loki is suddenly very afraid of losing Sylvie too before he tells her cares about her, of dying truly alone because he never told anyone what they meant to him. (Don’t think about this in the context of him also having watched his entire family die knowing he never told Frigga or Thor how much he loved them either don’t think about it—) He’s realized, finally, that he has doesn’t have to be alone, that he can choose to be close to people and have friends. And god it’s so heartbreaking that he never got to hug her or have that moment with her. I really hope they get that in the end. I hope he gets it with Mobius. I hope they have a group hug. I'm upset again.

Okay, deep breath, ANYWAY.

Hopefully this didn’t come off as attacking anyone else’s opinions.

Personally, I love this character so much, I’m just so happy to be seeing him in his own storyline that they can’t go wrong here. Objectively I think the production is amazing, and personally I love they way Loki’s character has been explored so far. (Yea yea, was I HOPING that the bad-memory loop would morph into Sanctuary and Thanos and like a full exploration of his true worst memories? Yes but let’s be honest my whump needs will never be met in canon and I have to accept that lol.)

Honestly I left all my own meta about this character at the door when the series started, because for me the opinions I’ve formed from the hundreds of (amazing) fics and meta I’ve read on this character and what’s true in canon are basically inseparable at this point, and no portrayal is going to live up to the way Loki exists in my head. Canon Loki and fic Loki are two different characters and I can enjoy both at the same time :) I’ve just loved seeing the character get given the different dimensions he deserves, and written by people who care about his story.

Also, it’s not over! If he was dead and this was it I’d be very upset, but this is the rock bottom of the storyline, and I think the whole next two episodes will be the build back up. I trust it’s gonna be worth it. SO hyped for flaming sword Loki. I would die for Sylvie, but I’m excited to see him on his own again.

My current most pressing questions are:

-what was the fallout of Sylvie’s bombing the timeline? (Have we seen that yet, am I just dumb and missing something?)

-Obviously, who’s behind it all? (Kang? Is there a head honcho Very Evil Loki at the top?)

-How much does Ravonna actually know, and to what extent is she just a pawn too? She asked Sylvie to prune her— she’s probably also been duped here.

-Is everything we learned about the sacred timeline BS? How much of what the TVA workers believe is real?

-my favorite theory so far is that the war of the timelines miss minutes talks about hasn’t actually happened yet, maybe making setting that into motion is the true endgame, leading into Multiverse of Madness?

(Side note: holy HELL im so excited for this soundtrack to drop on Spotify. It’s SO AMAZING I had CHILLS in the end credits.)

Open invitation to discuss anything with me if you feel inclined! :)

[official-weasley]

Meant to Be (Charlie Weasley x OC)

What happens when Bill brings home a girl and Charlie is completely awestruck by her?

WARNINGS: cursing, mentions of alcohol, struggling with self-love, emotional self-destructive behavior, and mentions of mental health problems, mentions of death and loss

Chapter 20

Rhylee

“Are you ready for this?” Lyla looked deep into my eyes, gripping my shoulders tight.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” I inhaled sharply and exhaled slowly.

“Okay, let’s go through it again before you leave.” I nodded to let her know I was ready.

“What did Dr. Whitmoore say?” She asked.

“I have to forgive myself.” I answered.

“And?”

“Stop tormenting myself.”

“And?” She tilted her head.

“Let the past stay in the past.” I closed my eyes.

“And what do you have to be?”

“More positive.”

“And what do you deserve?” She raised her eyebrows.

“To be happy.” A smile twitched at the end of my lip as I realized that I finally believed the words that came out of my mouth.

They weren’t empty anymore. They had meaning and they were finally true.

“And you…”

“I love myself.” I swallowed hard.

“Good girl.” Lyla grinned proudly at me. “I think you’re ready.” She scanned me from head to toe. “Turn around.” She reached for my hand and twirled me. “Now go and redeem yourself.” She winked at me and smacked my arse so I let out a surprised gasp.

I checked myself out in the mirror one more time and apparated. I know I was a bit late and I was hoping that most people would already be there so that I won’t have to talk to anybody. To be honest, I was just trying to avoid Charlie. The closer I got to the tent the more nervous I got.

There was a moment where I actually thought I will never see him again and here I was about to watch his brother get married. I took a deep breath and entered the tent. It seemed I was just in time as everybody sat down and Bill made his way to the center of the room. He looked dashing and I couldn’t stop the smile spread over my lips as I saw how nervous but excited he was at the same time.

I couldn’t be happier for him. As much as I couldn’t believe he invited me to the wedding. We still kept in touch and wrote a few letters per month to one another but we haven’t seen each other for over 5 months. Not since we bumped into each other in Diagon Alley.

Since he was on my list of people to apologize to, I invited him for coffee and told him everything. His reaction was pretty much the same as that of Lyla’s. It warmed my heart to see him looking at me so understandingly. It made me feel great and bad at the same time. I was finally out of my loophole but that made me realize just how foolish I was to even fall into it.

A few seconds after Bill took his place ready to get married, Charlie has positioned himself next to him. I was looking at him as if I have just seen the most beautiful creature on the entire planet. As I caught myself staring at him with my mouth slightly open I knew it was pointless denying the fact that I was still madly in love with him.

He was the man of my dreams and he was everything I could ever wish for in a person. Realizing all that shook my nerves even more. I snapped out of it just as Fleur started walking down the aisle. I have to keep it together and I have to keep myself from running away. He was the last one I needed to talk to. The last one I needed to apologize to for my stupid mistakes.

—

I sat down after dancing with yet another of the Weasley family members. I have no idea who the man was, I just knew he had to be a Weasley because of his fiery hair. I scanned the table to find my glass.

“Good evening.” I lifted my head to follow the voice.

“Hi, Bill.” I grinned at him. “Congratulations again.”

“Thank you.” He sat down next to me, his smile bigger than ever. “What are you sitting here all alone for?”

“Well, I danced with half of your relatives, your mum, and your dad and I think all of your brothers.” I laughed wholeheartedly.

“Most of my brothers.” He raised his eyebrows and nodded his head at the table where Charlie was sitting.

“I don't think he'd want to dance with me.” I swallowed hard. I felt my palms getting sweaty. I have been avoiding looking at that table for the last 2 hours. “He probably hates me.”

“Oh, I bet he wishes he could.” Bill murmured so fast that I wasn’t sure I heard him correctly.

“What?” I asked bluntly.

“Oh, nothing. Nothing.” Bill pressed his lips together, trying hard not to smirk. “Come on, invite him to dance.”

“What would his girlfriend think?” I tilted my head, waiting for the answer.

“Girlfriend?” Bill asked puzzled.

“I saw them dancing before, Bill.” I rolled my eyes playfully.

“The girl with pink hair?”

I hummed in response.

“That's one of his best friends, Tonks. They went to school together. She's married to Remus, who is sitting...” He scanned the room, looking for someone. “…right over there.” He pointed at a man with a lot of scars painting his face and a mustache.

“Oh.” Was all I could manage and rubbed my lips together.

“You didn't hear it from me but he's single.” He winked with a cheeky grin on his face.

“Thank you for the tip.” All I could manage was a nervous smile.

“Now are we just going to pretend that you attended my wedding just because of me or are you going to do something about you and him?” His eyes moving from me to where Charlie was sitting again.

“He is clearly having fun with his friends, I don't want to bother him.” At this point, I was just searching for excuses.

“Yeah, drinking and singing with the Hogwarts Game Keeper.” He chuckled. “Come with me.” He indicated with his hands that I should stand up and I followed him outside the tent.

I was getting more nervous by the minute. I had no idea where he was taking me until we suddenly stopped in the garden behind the Weasley home and he offered me to sit on the wooden bench, which I almost didn’t notice as it was mostly covered with vines and flowers. Without a single word, he started walking back to the tent.

I sat down slowly, swallowing my nerves. I didn’t like the expression on his face before he left. He looked as if he was up to something and I wasn’t big on surprises. I bit my lip and closed my eyes. My legs were shaking, my heels making sounds as they tapped against the ground.

I lifted my head as I heard someone coming my way.

“What is so important Bill and why are we going to the gard...” My heart clenched when I heard Charlie’s voice. “Oh, hi.” Was all he managed to say when he saw me.

His expression reminded me of the one he had on his face when he saw me at the gate in the Sanctuary.

“Hi.” My voice was barely audible.

“Oh, would you look at that, I think my wife is calling me.” Bill giggled and before either of us could say anything to him, he disappeared.

Charlie slowly made his way to me, the surprised expression still on his face. He sat down next to me, leaving a gap between us that was too big no matter how small it was.

An awkward silence fell upon us, both searching for words. This was my chance. I came here to talk to him, to apologize. I have to do it now.

“Charlie, listen...” I put my hands on my knees to stop my legs from shaking.

“How are you?” He interrupted me, staring at nothing in particular in front of him.

“I-I'm good. How are you?” I wanted him to look at me so I didn’t take my eyes off him.

“Not bad. Was a nice wedding.” He nodded towards the tent.

I calmed down as I felt that he was just as nervous as I was.

“Yeah.” I let out a hollow laugh.

Why was this so hard?

“I'm sorry I didn't say hello to you before.” He turned his head to me and our eyes finally met. “I know I passed you a few times.” He scratched the top of his head, embarrassed.

“It's okay.” I smiled slightly. I wasn’t sure if I was allowed to bestow him with a smile. I had no idea how mad he was at me. “I understand. You probably hate me.”

“I don't hate you, Rhy.” I closed my eyes when he said my name like that. He was the only one who called me Rhy and I never wanted to forget how it sounded. “I just wish I understood what was going through your head.”

“Trust me, I wish things went differently.”

This was a good start, right? He just said he wanted to understand and I was here to explain everything.

“Yeah.” His lips curved just a little before returning to their original state.

We fell silent again. We always had so much to talk about and it was never hard. He was always the easiest person to talk to. I felt as if I could tell him anything.

“So where do you work now?” He broke the silence.

“I'm kind of in-between jobs right now.” I pursed my lips.

I didn’t want to talk about me not having a job.

“You know, you can always come back to the Sanctuary. We didn't ban you from it and everybody misses you.”

Including you?

I wanted to ask but let the question die in my mouth instead. It warmed my heart so much that he offered me to return to Romania.

“You look better.” He scanned me with his eyes and I felt my heart beating hard against my ribcage.

I knew exactly what he meant. The last time he saw me I looked like shit. I let myself go completely.

“Thank you.” I gave out a soft smile. “I feel better too. Lyla got me into therapy.”

“Into what?” His face screwed in confusion.

“It's something Muggles do when they have…well mental issues.” I explained.

“You had mental issues?” I liked the concern in his voice a bit too much.

“You couldn't tell?” I asked sarcastically.

“I knew something was up but you didn't want to talk about it so I thought it was because of Nick.” He answered honestly.

“Nick was the least of my problems.” I said quickly.

Nick was the last person I wanted to talk to him about.

“Oh.” The word escaped from his mouth as if I caught him off guard. “That's...yeah...good for you.” He nodded, pressing his lips together and I knew what I said hurt him.

“Charlie, I hope you know that everything that happened between us...”

“Don't.” He lifted his hand at me. “You don't need to explain yourself to me.”

If it was any other time I would stop talking then and there but this was it. It was time for him to know the truth.

“Yes, I do.” I said, determined. “You were right that day in front of the Ministry. You deserve answers. As I said, everything that happened between us was as real for me as it was for you.” My legs started shaking again.

Did I say too much too quickly?

“Okay.” I could see his cheeks turn scarlet and I wanted to kiss him so badly at moment.

I wanted to kiss the hell out of him.

“I just...” I inhaled sharply.

This was it. No turning back now. Here’s my story, Charlie, and please don’t run away when I’m done talking.

“I was in a really bad place. In my Seventh year at Beauxbatons, I didn't read the instructions properly and made a poison instead of a Calming Draught. My boyfriend at the time drank it and he died.” I was staring into nothingness.

I could see with the corner of my eye that he turned to me slightly as I said the last few words and I could feel his eyes on me.

“I wasn't charged for murder even though I begged them to lock me up because I couldn't see how I could forgive myself. It was marked as an accident. I barely finished school and got the job at Gringotts and gladly took it just to get away from everything.” I shook my head.

I was doing better. It got easier to talk about it every time I said it out loud.

“I was fine for 3 years, I thought I was over it. I promised myself that I will never brew another potion and that I will never be with anyone ever again.” I bowed my head. Saying all of this used to make me cry but I forgave myself. I had to. “I thought I didn't deserve it after what I did. And then Bill brought me home and I met you.”

He was still looking at me. I wanted to turn and look into his beautiful eyes that were always so full of compassion and love but I couldn’t. I didn’t dare. I didn’t know what he thought about everything I just said. I didn’t know if he was judging me or not and I wasn’t ready to find out just yet. He didn’t say anything either so I continued talking.

“I know what you felt that day, Charlie.” I said in a whisper. I wanted to talk about us, about what that night meant to me for such a long time. “You think I didn't? I know that what happened between us that night was so far away from a one-night stand. I have never felt such a strong connection to a person before and my curiosity got the better of me.”

I shook my head. I always said it was a mistake but I have to forgive myself for that too.

“I had to see if there was something between us and it killed me when I was right. As much as something was pulling me toward you that much did I want to run away because all that guilt came right back.”

“All this drama between us happened because of something you did at school?” He failed to comprehend and I didn’t blame him.

“I killed a person, Charlie.” I said through my teeth.

“It was an accident.” His voice was so soft, so full of understanding of my situation.

“How would you feel if something you did killed Emma back then?” I finally looked at him.

He told me about his first love Emma one morning when we were looking at the sunrise together. It was a tragedy that they had to break up because of long-distance. He seemed really happy with her.

He didn’t reply to my question but I could see it in his eyes that he was trying to put himself in my shoes.

“See? Now you know how I felt. You felt so guilty about what you did to Bill when we slept together now imagine how it would be if someone lost their life because of a stupid mistake you've made.” I tried to explain further.

“Okay, I'm sorry.” He said gently and placed his hand on the bench, filling the gap between us. “I understand. Continue.”

“What I felt with you that night Charlie, was what I imagined every time someone asked me what do I want in a person. It was just as I imagined it would be with someone I would want to spend the rest of my life with.” I slowly removed my hand from my knees and placed it next to his on the bench, our fingers almost touching. “It was even better than that.”

“Why didn't you ever tell me this before?” He breathed.

“Because I couldn't. I know what I did to you was wrong. I know I was playing with your feelings but I was just so drawn to you I couldn't help myself.” I was telling the truth.

There was no point in hiding it anymore.

“I guess.” He bowed his head, turning it to look straight ahead of him.

“After that, I couldn't stop thinking about you. It came so far that I applied to work in Romania.” I continued.

“That was because of me?” He turned back to me with an incredulous expression.

“Of course, it was because of you.” I gave out a faint smile, our eyes locked again.

“But you also applied for the American Sanctuary.” He frowned.

“To make myself think that I was doing it to switch jobs.”

“And I thought I had battles in my head.” His lip twitched as he moved his hand slightly closer to mine.

“I decided to go to Romania anyways but I knew what I was doing was wrong so to stop myself from doing anything stupid I started dating Nick.” I gave out a deep sigh.

“So you knew he was a prick?” I wanted to laugh at the nickname he gave him but stopped myself just in time, placing a hand over my mouth.

“Of course, I knew!”

“Then why in the bloody hell did you go out with him?” He failed to understand.

“I wanted to punish myself.” I admitted.

Saying it out loud sounded insane.

“What?”

“Look, he wasn't all that bad but he did have a big ego and he only cared for himself.” I wasn’t trying to defend him but I had to make him see why I did what I did.

“So, you thought that being with him was better than being with me?”

I felt something break in me. How could he even think that? How could he even compare himself to Nick? Did he think so low of himself? Did I make him think that way?

“No.” I shook my head hard. “Nothing can compare to being with you in any way, Charlie.” I looked him deep in the eyes and moved my hand closer to his, our fingers finally meeting. “But I thought that if I'll be with Nick then I will stop feeling guilty. I couldn't forgive myself for what I've done.”

“I'm trying to understand you, Rhy, but fuck, do you know what you put yourself through here?” He scratched the top of his head. “What you put me through because of your past?”

“I know. I'm sorry.” I felt tears burning my eyes.

My past didn’t make me cry anymore. I was over it and I was proud of that. The way he said what I put him through. The pain in his voice even though he tried to understand what I was telling him. That’s what brought tears to my eyes.

“Please, continue your story. You're telling me everything.” It made my heart beat faster just knowing that he was still willing to listen.

“When I got to Romania and saw you, all those feelings came back and I hated myself for it. I saw the way you were looking at me, I'm not blind. I just didn't dare to do anything about it. I was falling for you as fast as Bean eats his dinner and it was killing me because I didn't allow myself to tell you.” His lips curved into a smile when I compared my feelings to a dragon.

“But why didn't you? What did you think would happen? That you'd poison me too?”

“I thought I didn't deserve you!” I blurted.

“Rubbish!” He scoffed. “You made a mistake. You are allowed to be forgiven.” He entwined our fingers and I wanted to melt at his touch.

Fuck, I missed him so much.

“I didn't think that.” I said slowly, my eyes on our hands. “I thought that you were too good for me, I still do.”

“Rhy...” He tilted his head, bringing his shoulder closer to mine.

“I know. I said I'm better I didn't say I'm all there yet.” I bestowed him with a smile.

“So why did you sleep with me after the party in the Sanctuary if you felt like you weren't good enough for me?” He continued.

“I was just drunk enough. It was the same as at the Burrow. I wasn't brave enough to do anything about it while sober. The booze got me just enough courage to bury all the bad feelings and just give in.” I closed my eyes, reminiscing on it.

“That you did.” He chuckled.

He actually chuckled!

I thought my heart was going to jump out of my chest by hearing that noise. His laugh was always my favorite. He never gave you more than a smile if he didn’t find something worth laughing for.

“Charlie, that night...” I bit my lip and locked my eyes with his.

“I know. It was amazing.” He bent his lips inwards and I could see the night rolling in front of his eyes.

“It was so much more than that.” I couldn’t find the words to describe it.

No one could. But I know we both knew exactly what it meant.

“Then why did you tell Nick? Why didn't you just stop all the madness then and there if it meant so much to you?” He squinted his eyes.

“Don't you get it?” I chortled. “I did it because it meant so much to me. I felt too happy. I couldn't allow myself to feel that. I was terrified of how good it was, Charlie. What I feel for you is something that people describe in romance novels, I didn't even know it was real.”

“So you went back to your boyfriend to torture yourself.”

It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. But not a judgmental one.

“Yes. Trust me I know how it sounds. I thought I deserved to be in pain. I constantly searched for something that would hurt me so that I could redeem myself for what I did at Beauxbatons. I thought that by telling Nick I will make you see that I'm hurting you. I wanted you to get over me, to be with someone better. With someone who won't hurt you.”

And in the process, I hurt him more instead of setting him free.

“There is no one better for me, Rhylee.” He said with a soft voice that woke up all the butterflies in my stomach again. “Don't you get it? Ever since we slept together at the Burrow there was nobody that could compare to you. And you only hurt me because of the things you were doing to yourself. If I knew the reason behind all your actions I would've done things differently myself.” He pressed my fingers together with his, his eyes full of understanding.

“I know. I'm sorry.” I shook my head. “You have no idea how sorry I am about it. I thought I was doing you a favor but I didn't put myself in your shoes. I didn't...” I choked.

“You didn't love yourself enough to be with me.” He finished my sentence.

“You sound like my therapist.” I chuckled.

“So, I am finally understanding what you're saying?”

I replied to his question with a hum.

“And what does your therapist think about your relationship with Nick?” Something in his eyes shifted.

They weren’t soft anymore, they were angry.

“Nick and I broke up in February.” I said.

“Oh, I'm sorry.” He murmured.

“I know you don't mean that. It was for the best.” I assured him.

“So, is Lyla helping you with the baby then?” I turned to him abruptly, blinking.

“I...I lost the baby.” I said with a husky voice.

“What?” Charlie jumped in his seat.

I don’t know why I thought that Bill told him.

“Yeah...” I tried to smile but failed. “The healers said there was nothing they could do. Sometimes it just happens.”

I tried to act strong but this was one of the few things I wasn’t over yet. Yes, it was Nick’s baby, and being pregnant at the time wasn’t something I planned or wished for but something changes when you’re pregnant and it still hurt that I lost the baby. I felt my eyes water again.

“I am so sorry, Rhy.” I could hear how sorry he was in his voice.

Without saying anything else he pulled me into a hug. How I missed his hugs and his smell. He always smelled so nice. Like how I would describe a summer breeze if it had a smell.

“Thank you. It's the reason Nick and I broke up. He blamed me for losing the baby.” I mumbled into his shoulder.

“He what?!” Charlie barked, pulling away from me.

“It's okay, Charlie. I brought this on myself and I had to deal with it. Losing the baby was my breaking point. I knew I had to get out of it. I hit rock bottom. That's why Lyla got me into therapy. I was in my bed for days and she lost it.” I tried calming him down.

“I would too. She did the right thing and since you look better I assume it helped you.”

“It did wonders.” An appreciative smile painted my face. Getting into therapy was the best decision I have made in years. “I’m not done with therapy but I am making progress.”

“So did you put yourself through enough shit now or do you still have a wish to torment yourself?” He asked in a serious voice.

“No, I'm done. I wouldn't be at this wedding otherwise.” I got shy all of a sudden.

I told him everything he needed to know and this was it. It was time to see if he can forgive me. I know what a bombshell I dropped on him and I know it’s a lot to process and I wouldn’t want to rush him. I just wanted us to be on speaking terms again. I knew I would never get more than that.

“I don't understand.” His brows got closer together.

“I came here to apologize to you besides being here for Bill and being happy for him being so much in love.” I said truthfully.

“Is that the only reason you're here – to apologize?” He gently bumped into my shoulder and leaned closer to me.

Was he going for a kiss?

“Are you sure?” I couldn’t believe it.

I didn’t dare to dream about us ever being anything more than friends again.

“I've never been more sure of anything in my entire life.” He placed his hand on my cheek and I trembled under his touch.

“But I hurt you so much, Charlie. Can you really forgive me for everything I put you through so fast?” I had to know that he was sure.

I had to know that he forgave me for all the pain I caused him.

“I'm still in love with you, Rhy.” He brushed his nose against mine and rested his forehead on mine.

We never said the words. We didn’t have the chance to but then again we never had to. We both knew how we felt about each other.

“If Bill could forgive me for sleeping with you without even thinking twice about it, then you have to know you are already forgiven. I was never mad at you I just felt sorry for you because you were ruining yourself when you could have everything you ever wanted with me.”

That was it. That’s what I needed to hear. I pressed my lips hard against his and I felt my body melting when he returned the kiss. It was just as I remembered. His lips were soft and he tasted like Fire Whiskey which made my lips curve.

“Damn, it feels nice to kiss you and know nobody's getting hurt for it.” He said after pulling away.

“Tell me about it.” I kissed him again.

I finally don’t have to feel guilty for kissing him. He doesn’t have to feel guilty. I could feel the happiness and the realization, that we can finally be together, without the drama without thinking of anyone else, vibrate through my body.

“We needed a long time to get here, didn't we?” I giggled. “Only a few years, give or take.” I joked and kissed him again.

I will never get enough of this.

“Give or take, yeah.” He laughed and kissed my forehead.

“It took us a while but at least we're here now and it feels right.” I couldn’t stop smiling.

This was the best feeling in the world.

“I thought we would never get the chance to be together. There were so many obstacles in our way. Always a reason why we can't be with each other.”

“Is it bad if I say I wouldn't have it any other way?” I cupped his face and searched for the answer in his eyes.

“No.” He shook his head lightly. “It's kind of nice if you think about it. You have to go through hell sometimes to get to the good stuff.”

“Yeah.” He was right. We’ve been through so much. I made us go through so much but in the end, we still ended up together. “Makes you think that perhaps, we were meant to be.”

His lips curved as I said that and I knew he was thinking the same as he leaned in for another kiss.

THE END

A/N: Thank you to everyone who read this story. ❤️ I know it's shorter and it didn't have that much fluff in it and some of you thought I was cruel to Charlie for breaking his heart so many times. I know - my brain comes up with weird stories and I promise in the next one our bean will be nothing but happy. I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless! ❤️

I know this story isn't as long as the last one but this is how I pictured it. The wedding still gets disturbed by the death eaters. Peter gives Rhylee her job back and she moves back to Romania. Rhylee helps with the Order and she fights in the Battle of Hogwarts. Because of everything that went down and with all of the war trauma she and Charlie move to Britain for a little while to be closer to family and friends and they both go to therapy. After a few years, they move back to Romania and they move in together.

For all of you, that ship Theodore and Gerta (I got a few messages about them and it amused me so much because I love them together) - after Theo never giving up and asking her out all the time, Gerta finally gives in saying yes to a date. She can't believe how sweet Theo is and what a romantic he is. They were dating for 6 months when Theodore popped the question and when they got married all his teammates were his best men.

And as I said yesterday: I know that what Rhylee went through can't be solved with 6 months worth of therapy as is stated in the story. I needed to fit it in the timeline to align everything with Bill's wedding and is the only reason why I picked 6 months. One of my best friends has a Ph.D. in psychotherapy and she told me that with Rhylee's situation of feeling so guilty and wanting to torment herself it is very unrealistic that she would be as fine as I wrote her to be - I am fully aware of that. I apologize if I made anyone uncomfortable with it or if anyone finds it offensive in any way.

[honey-dewey]

The Story of how you Accidentally Married a Selkie

Pairing: Selkie Ezra/Reader

Word Count: 1,954

Warnings: None

When you met a handsome stranger with a fur coat in a coffee shop, you expected your one-time interaction to be just that. One time only. And then he shows up the next day with an engagement ring and things get a bit more complicated. (This is shamelessly based off that one Tumblr post about picking up a selkie’s coat and accidentally getting married to them.)

Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell 

Living in a small town was, in your opinion, the epitome of living. Nestled on the seaside, the Green was a tiny spit of a town with all of two grocery stores, one bank, a single bar, three coffee shops, and maybe two hundred people. 

So, yeah, it was perfect. 

Nestled down in front of your favorite coffee shop, overlooking the crashing waves, you slowly worked on a writing assignment for your boss, typing away at your laptop and letting the lull of the ocean keep track of your time. 

Eventually, once high tide came in and the salty water came spraying up onto the road, you decided to move inside. Abandoning the sun, you shut your laptop into your bag and drew your jacket closer around your body as you hurried into the coffee shop. 

Waving to the sweet college kid behind the counter, you found your normal seat, tucked away in a corner where you could still see the ocean, but it wasn’t threatening to kill your laptop. 

Halfway to your table, you stumbled over something thick. A beautiful pale grey fur coat, speckled with darker grey and so soft looking. It was ringed around a chair with someone sitting in it, so you assumed they’d draped it over the back of the chair and hadn’t known that it had dropped. 

“Excuse me!” You said, scooping the jacket up and holding it out to the person. “You dropped your coat.” 

The person turned, eyes wide with surprise as you handed him back his coat. He was attractive in an almost inhuman way, his eyes too big and his skin too soft. But you just chalked it up to the lighting and walked towards your table with a small wave goodbye. 

The entire time you worked, the man stared at you, still looking shocked. When the college kid came around with your coffee, you grabbed their attention. “Hey, do you know who that is?” 

They shook their head. “Apparently he’s a regular around this time of year. Story goes he’s just passing through to visit his family. 

You nodded, wrapping your hands around your cup and turning back to your laptop. Now that you thought about it, that head of brown curls with the prominent blond streak was familiar. 

Once the sun had begun to dip below the horizon, you headed out, bundling up and waving yet again to the pretty stranger. His wide brown eyes caught the light and seemed to almost glitter as you left the coffee shop. 

That night was bizarre. The waves were almost violent, crashing against the shore with a strange urgency. The wind howled mournful words, as if someone was singing. You heard the soft barking of faraway seals, although that must have been stray dogs. The Green didn’t have seals. Rolling over in bed, the softness of that fur coat crossed your mind briefly before you slipped away into sleep. 

The next day, you woke up to birds chirping. It was horribly cliche, but you did. Getting out of bed, you stretched, opening the curtains on a picturesque summer’s day. 

“Thought it’d be stormy,” you mumbled to yourself, digging up work clothes and beginning your morning routine. 

Most days, you were able to slip away during work hours and sit in the coffee shop, but today was too busy. Instead, you were trapped in the office, your only connection to the outside world being your open window. Occasionally, a warm breeze would drift through and you’d smell the baked goods across the street. It was awful to know that your sanctuary was literally twenty feet away, and yet you couldn’t visit until work was over. 

At noon, you happily left work, waving to your boss and promising to get all the appropriate documents emailed to him by the time you went to bed. 

The weather was warm, warm enough for you to leave your jacket draped over your arm as you pulled open the coffee shop door. 

“Hey!” The college kid said happily. “You weren’t in for breakfast!” 

“Work,” you explained, holding up your laptop. “Anyway, is my table open?”

They nodded, and you smiled. “Perfect.” 

You were only settled down for a few minutes before someone sat across from you. 

Looking up, you got a pleasant surprise. It was the man from yesterday with the fur coat. Said coat was currently draped over his body, overtop a black shirt and pants. Now that you could get a good look at him, you were able to commit his details to memory, like the unique slope of his nose and the way his deep brown eyes yet again seemed overly large. You were starting to suspect he really wasn’t human, which was a ridiculous theory, but it was either that or he had an incredible plastic surgeon. 

It wasn’t until he fidgeted that you realized two very noticeable things about him. Firstly, he had no right arm. Secondly, he was holding a small black box with foreign words written in silver on the top. He held the box out to you, a clear invitation to take it. 

You did, hesitantly opening it up. Immediately, embarrassment and surprise filled you. That was definitely an engagement ring, with silver swirling designs and a stone in the center that looked just like the ocean, a beautiful teal with just a touch of white. “This is,” you paused, suddenly unable to find the words. “Is this an engagement ring?” 

The man nodded, his wide eyes filling with worry. “Do you like it?” 

“It’s beautiful,” you said slowly, still enthralled by the ring. “Why are you giving it to me?” 

“Oh!” The man went red, ducking his head down and smiling nervously. “I just figured, and pardon me if I got it wrong, but I assumed you’d want us to be married by human customs as well.” 

That was where he lost you. His words snapped you out of your shock, causing your face to go cold and your voice to fail beyond one simple word. “What?” 

The man faltered, his expression turning sour and almost broken. “I-“ he stammered, taking the ring and snapping the box shut. “I have to go.” 

Before you could say anything, he was gone. 

“Wait!” You shouted, following after the mystery man in a hurry. The issue was, you had no idea where he went. Looking up and down the street, you saw no indicator as to where he had gone. 

“Dammit!” You yelled, heading down the street, towards where the road sloped down to the beach. It was your thinking spot, and you definitely needed to think right now. 

When you managed to get down to the beach, you sat automatically on your favorite rock, the one with the jagged back and the small spot that was indented to make a seat for you. At high tide, it was partially underwater, so you had to wade out to sit down. Looking at the rolling waves, you breathed in the salty air. Technically, the entire Green was under the veil of ocean air, but out here it was especially prominent. It calmed you to your core, the gentleness of the water lapping at your ankles tethering you to the earth below you. 

And then you saw him. 

The fur coat yet again was the focal point, draped across his body as he lay in the sun not even twenty feet from you. He was breathing in and out deeply, eyes shut as he simply basked in the daylight, on his back in the sand. The ocean water occasionally soaked him, coming up as it hit the shore and covering everything from the waist down, reaching just high enough to wet his curls before it receded again. 

You almost wanted to say something, anything really. He’d looked absolutely heartbroken when you’d recoiled from him, and it was a look that made your chest ache. And then there was the issue with what he said. Married by human customs as well. As well, two small worlds which implied that by some magical, non-human custom, you and him were married. 

You watched the waves come up again, soaking the fur coat. As the water flowed back once more, you remembered an old folks tale you’d heard upon first moving to the Green. Something about the beach being a safe haven for Selkies during their migration. For five nights in the middle of summer, the beach filled with Selkies, who were allowed those five precious days to shed their seal skins and run around as humans. The seal skins, which turned into...

“Fur coats,” you breathed, whipping around to stare at the man. “And I returned his coat.” Which meant that, yes, by Selkie standards, you two were married. 

“Hey!” Jumping off your rock, you fought the water as you ran towards the man, who sat up with wide and suddenly fearful eyes. “No! Don’t go!” 

He tucked the coat close to his chest, holding it in place with his arm. “You.” 

“Yeah,” you agreed, sitting beside the man, not caring if your clothes got soaked in salt. “Me. I’m sorry I overreacted in the coffee shop. I just, I didn’t think Selkies existed! This is kind of a shock.” 

The man’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry!” He said, scooting closer to you. “I should’ve explained.” 

“And I should’ve listened,” you replied, smiling. “I suppose we got off on the wrong foot. It feels horrible to be married, or are we engaged?” 

“Married.” 

“Oh.” You paused. “Okay. Married to someone who I don’t even know the name of.” 

The man nodded, taking your hands in his. “I’m Ezra.” 

You gave him your name, and he grinned. “Nice to meet you.” 

“Right back at you,” you said happily. “So. Married. How does that work?” 

Ezra pulled the ring out of a pocket in the coat and shrugged. “I’ve never been married before.” 

You took the box, flicking it open. “So we’re winging it?” 

Ezra smiled, putting his arm around you and nodding. “We’re winging it.” 

-Two Years Later-

You hummed to yourself, flickering around the kitchen and making dinner. The window in the kitchen was open, and whenever you stopped to put a dish in the sink, you caught a wave of ocean air, pausing for a second before going back to whatever you had been cooking. 

A wet sound on your back deck caught your attention, and you smiled, not pulling away from the pot of pasta. “Back door’s open!” You shouted, hearing the creak of the rickety sliding door being pushed open. 

Ezra came up behind you, pressing a salty kiss into your skin, catching your lips the second time. “I missed you.” 

“Ditto,” you said happily, watching Ezra out of the corner of your eye as he hung his coat up on its designated hook on the coat rack. “How was the migration?” 

“Long,” Ezra groaned. “I’m glad we’re here though. Shame I can’t stay until the equinox.” 

You shrugged, pulling the pasta off the stove and properly greeting your seal husband. “Damn shame. But that just makes the time we have all the more precious.” 

Ezra grinned, long and lazy. “That is true, my love. That is so very true.” 

Late that night, after dinner and after Ezra had given you a thorough hello, you lay in bed, curled around him, breathing in the ocean and dust smell. Both of your rings sat on the bedside table, glittering in the low moonlight. 

Rolling a bit so you were facing Ezra, your head pressing against his chest, you were very glad, not for the first time and surely not for the last, that you’d picked up that Selkie coat.

[ilkkawhat]

to fall on deaf ears

[prompted by myself, using "I never ask for help because I'm not sure I know how." + "It's alright to feel broken every once and a while. And it's alright to take time to heal." off of that prompts list to expand on a vague idea I got from a dream a few months ago. read on ao3 here or continue below] 

“If you got a callout tomorrow to the restaurant where you got shot and Officer Clark died, could you focus?”

He pretends that it’s just like any other restaurant that serves them up a crime scene. He ignores that even while the name of the restaurant had changed, just as he had changed his exterior style with a buzzed head, the insides were still the same. There’s still the slits of warm, golden yellow light lining the walls, radiating a gentle glow to add to the elegant, intimate atmosphere.

There’s still the brick tunnel that’s overlit with fluorescence, a segue into the kitchen where it all started.

Where it all went so horribly wrong.

He can still see the pool of blood seeping down the corridor. Spreading to the walls under an imposing shadow answering his desperate calls that fall on dead ears.

He can still smell the gunpowder.

“Could you be there for your team?”

Sara puts a hand on his shoulder, gently shaking him. She gives him a look and he shrugs her off, eyes fluttering and plastering on a smile to indicate he’s fine. 

He gets to work.

“Would you want you backing you up right now?”

He thinks he’s okay, just one step at a time. One breath at a time. There’s no more threat, the restaurant has been cleared so they can investigate the body lying motionless on the floor. 

A body lying in a pool of blood. Arms spread, eyes closed.

A discarded weapon just out of reach.

A body that doesn’t just look like him…

It is him. 

A shaky laugh mingles with a sharp breath, shaking his head in disbelief, he thinks about pinching himself because he must be dreaming, he’ll wake up in just a minute and get his assignment to an unrelated case that doesn’t have his name written anywhere except for his signature on the field report.

But even as he falls to the floor out of a reflex—the same reflex he had in a house of a hoarder—when there’s a loud crash from the kitchen that sounds not completely, but still close enough to a gunshot, he realizes this isn’t a dream. 

It’s a waking nightmare.

“Nick!” Sara calls, reaching out her arms after Nick immediately backs away, shielding his shot arm with his other. An embarrassing whimper mixes with his cry—his plea of “No!” and Sara eventually gives up as he huddles himself under a table, a small table that would seat a couple on a date that he then knocks over to protect himself with the same barricade that Ray and Papa—the real target of the mad doctor who viewed Nick as nothing but a nuisance in his way, and treated him as such when he shot him without any sort of hesitation or bargaining or empty threat of telling him to back off—which he wouldn’t have done anyway, of course, but perhaps in hindsight, in another dimension, perhaps he would find himself behind the safety of the table. Perhaps he would have been able to fire a few more shots to incapacitate the serial killer. 

“Nick—” Sara starts again.

“Get down!” Nick warns her, because there’s a shadow approaching from the kitchen—he readies his gun—his finger on the trigger—

“Nick, no!” 

Sara bats the gun out of Nick’s hand, but the damage is done. A shot is fired, and it’s fortunately a miss, lodging its way into the cemented wall of bricks, engulfed in the shadow cast by one of the stationed uniforms meant to babysit the CSIs as they conduct their investigation. 

“Jesus Christ, Stokes! What, did you think I was a ghost or something?” the officer sneers with a red face, and Sara shoots the man a sharp glare before placing herself in front of Nick.

Any words he may have had to bite back were lost anyway to his hyperventilation, still trapped in the morbidly vivid flashback of the shooting. Clark’s shooting. His shooting. 

This wasn’t just any restaurant. 

This is where he was shot.

And this is where Nick Stokes almost died. 

That’s his reasoning for his unfortunate reaction to what he thought was a real threat, but just as before, his call falls on deaf ears and he’s exiled from the restaurant and stripped of his defenses.

Catherine soon rolls up with the coroner, having been called immediately. Their eyes only just meet as she gets an earful from Brass, who is ranting on about how she should have known better than to send Nick there, especially not after what had happened.

Nick did have to wonder if this was some spiteful attempt to show him that no, he’s not fine. That he needs to go back to therapy. That he has a twisted definition of recovery to the point where he thinks he’s already recovered when really, there’s still blood on his hands and a hole dangerously close to his heart.

And to make matters somehow even worse, the next scene he’s sent to after a brief suspension that’s sugar coated as “mandatory vacation,” is with the good doctor himself, and across the street from the Clark family.

They are among the prying bystanders that flock the perimeter of the crime scene tape. He approaches them, because he feels they are owed an explanation, not just for the horrors that happened on their street, but for the horrors of the past that he never got a chance to testify to. Not to them, at least. They didn’t want to hear him.

And unsurprisingly, they don’t want to hear him now either.

The children hug around their mother, and Clark’s widowed wife spits in Nick’s face before he can even open his mouth. The nearby uniforms don’t stop try to stop the commotion, as murmurs through the crowd then break out, “is that the CSI that killed Clark?”

He knows they wouldn’t listen to the truth even if he told them.

He nods as respectfully as he can, before turning away and coiling his fist as he walks back towards Ray.

“You okay?” Ray asks in a careful voice. 

“Yeah, yeah, fine,” Nick shakes off.

“That was Officer Clark’s family, wasn’t it?” 

“Yeah...Ye—” Nick stops mid sentence, losing his breath and his face contorts into a reluctant cry that he pushes back down into his chest, pressurizing the pulsing wound that stings near his heart. He shakes his head and keeps walking, not allowing himself to break down in front of his esteemed colleague, let alone the general public. 

He’ll hold it in, as he always does, until he’s safe in the privacy of his own home.

But as he’ll soon come to find out, that privacy is just as much of a facade as the bravado he continues to put on in order to do his job. 

So instead, he settles for the brief moments of privacy he gets in the locker room, which has always acted as a sort of sanctuary for him, dating back to his days on the football field in high school, or the baseball field in college. The time to reflect after a long and grueling game, the adrenaline having sweated out of his body and he gets a moment to think to himself before he has to either celebrate a win or mourn a loss with the rest of the team. The rest of his family.

The time to gather himself before he goes to a home that’s not a true home.

It’s a broken one. 

A home where monsters spy on him. Where demons attack him. 

Where he can’t sleep without fearing that the wrong move will blow it all up. 

“Nicky?” 

He lifts his head, and drops the shirt that he was holding in his hands. 

“Were...you listening to anything I just said?” Catherine asks in a slow voice. 

“Yuh-huh,” Nick smiles as he picks up the shirt, quickly putting it on to cover the scars that seem to scream out of his skin. 

He hopes that she doesn’t pick it up too, and realize that it’s the same shirt he wore the day Warrick died.

“You seemed like you got lost for a minute,” she smiles sweetly at him, scratching the top of his head. “What’s the matter?” 

“What do you mean? Nothing’s the matter.” 

“Nick. I’ve known you for over eleven years now,” Catherine sighs. “You may look like you have a healthy body, but that tired look in your eyes tells me...you don’t have a healthy mind.” 

He meets her eyes, glistening with the same softness that his mother had on the night that she came home to find him sitting in the dark. 

And for once, he tells the truth in a call that falls on listening ears.

“I never ask for help because I’m not sure I know how,” Nick admits, his eyes still transfixed on the shaking hands in front of him. “I just...I still feel so...so…”

Broken.

Catherine sits down next to Nick, taking one of his fidgeting hands and curling her fingers between his. She wraps her other arm around his shoulder, hugs him tight to her body. 

“It’s alright to feel broken every once and a while,” she tells him. “And it’s alright to take time to heal.”

Nick nods silently, his lips quivering as he tries to stop the flood of tears by shutting his eyelids, but one still rolls down his cheek on the side of his face and onto the hand that’s holding him. 

“And you will heal,” she assures him. “I promise.”

He hasn’t healed from the shooting, no matter how much he pretends that it didn’t affect him.

The ghost of Officer Clark still haunts him, as well as the souls he’s taken by his own bullets. 

He hasn’t healed from being buried alive almost six years ago, his newfound claustrophobia and aversion to fire ants in particular conflicting with the longing for solitude and his new passion for entomology. 

He still hears Walter Gordon’s voice telling him what’s going to happen every time he’s trapped by a green light.

Even though it was a long time ago, he hasn’t healed from the slow burning terror of being stalked. Before he moved out of the house, he would slowly discover things that Crane had moved, altered or even taken from him.

Yet he still has one of his jackets that Crane had “graciously” picked up from the dry cleaner’s. 

And he’s definitely had plenty of guns shoved in his face, and with every new barrel he stares down he feels himself transforming into something hard, something that will take a lot more to damage—but he still hasn’t healed from that very first time outside of the training field. 

He wonders, if Holly Gribbs hadn’t died, would he have died in her place?

“It just feels like I never will,” his voice, fully warbled in a sob that tangles his throat. “I-I haven’t f-for years.” 

And he will never heal from the childhood trauma that he’s done everything he could to drown with repression, only for it to resurface with the same ease as a beach ball floating in water. Following him. Bumping into him, reminding him of what happened that night and what was taken from him. 

“You will, Nicky. You most definitely will. And I’ll be here, we’ll all be here for you until you do.” 

She cups his head to her chest and lets him release the tangled web that’s ensnared him, only letting him go when he feels he’s ready, and helps him stand back up and take his first step into a full recovery.

[concussed-to-pieces]

The Mettle Of A Man; Part Seventeen

Fandom: Fallout (4)

Pairing: Eventual Paladin Danse/Female Sole Survivor

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Tagging @anonymouscosmos, @culturalrebel, @mercy-and-malice, @deepkittycollecto and @nelba! Enjoy!

Part One: ArcJet

Part Two: The Prydwen

Part Three: Orders

Part Four: Finding Brandis

Part Five: Weston Water And Oberland

Part Six: Meeting Preston And Matthew

Part Seven: Radstag And Radstorm

Part Eight: The Return To Sanctuary Hills

Part Nine: Domestic Ruminations

Part Ten: Institutionalized

Part Eleven: Two Weeks, Three Days

Part Twelve: Haylen’s Warning And The Glowing Sea

Part Thirteen: Under Fire

Part Fourteen: Dichotomy

Part Fifteen: The Litany Trial

Part Sixteen: Nice Try

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains intense recounts of previous abuse, intense depictions of self-loathing, self-deprecation and brief mentions of depression. Stay safe!]

Cade caught Danse before he could depart after the rest of their unofficial 'war council' had been dismissed, the medical officer inquiring, "How are you coping, Paladin? I hope that your adjustment to your newfound knowledge is going well." The arch of his eyebrow indicated plainly that Cade was looking for a clear answer, possibly to dissuade his own concerns.

  "I am still uncertain, Knight-Captain Cade." Danse stated bluntly. "I know that Quinlan's reports are accurate. I know that I must be a synth. But it is...it's difficult to wrap my head around it."

  "My door is always open, Danse. As it's been since the day you were assigned to the Prydwen." Cade reminded him. "I can't say I've ever had the pleasure of doing a mental evaluation on a synth, but…" he trailed off thoughtfully. "Hmm, that's not quite right. You and I have had sessions before. Maybe synths aren't so different in their cognition. Perhaps this is a nature versus nurture scenario."

  "Perhaps." Danse allowed, but he knew that he sounded less than optimistic.

  "Maybe in a day or two, once everything has calmed down and you've had time to think?" Cade suggested. "Collect your thoughts, then come see me and we can discuss your current state and the repercussions of Maxson's treatment."

  The paladin nodded, relieved that Cade didn't wish to immediately evaluate him. It had been an incredibly stressful and arduous several weeks. More than anything, the paladin was longing to finally get some sleep.

  After he spoke to Haylen and Rhys, of course. They deserved his gratitude, if only for their combined efforts in delivering the tip-off that had literally saved his life. To say nothing of their care for Elizabeth in his absence, even though they were unable to free her. They had kept her alive, and that was more than the paladin had dared to hope for.

  Danse watched Cade depart, his mind miles away now. Backhand would be incredibly busy in the lead up to the assault. He felt almost irritated by that; it was unfair to ask so much of her so soon after what had transpired. But the luxury of time was no longer on their side. Danse understood, in a practical sense, that they needed to strike as fast as possible. It was entirely within reason that the Institute already knew of their plans and were preparing their own countermeasures.

  It still didn't erase the hollow sensation in his gut, the fear that Backhand was all too willing to stretch herself paper-thin for her various factions. He promised himself then and there that he would do his best to absorb some of the burden. 

  As much as she would allow. 

  The memory of her ripping her knuckles apart on the manual release of his armor, talking to Matthew's parents, taking her helmet off and smiling at him. Thank you, Danse or I thought you were dead or please don't do that to me again --

  Danse chewed anxiously on his lower lip. As much as she would allow. As much as he could feasibly handle. It should have felt odd that he was trading one leader for another, but Danse could only rationalize that it must be another portion of his programming. 

  "Paladin Danse, sir?" 

  Rhys . Danse started, turning around. He hadn't even heard the knight approach down the catwalk. Hell, he hadn't even realized he was spacing out in the hallway. "Yes, Knight?" He replied, nodding out of habit to acknowledge Haylen beside Rhys.

  "Elder Brandis said you wanted to see us, sir." The knight stated, sounding a bit hesitant. "He said we needed to discuss...certain things."

  Of course he did . Danse sighed heavily, bracing himself for some level of a disappointment-fueled tirade.

  "Danse, I'm so sorry." Haylen blurted out, her voice shaking. Danse was startled, tilting his head while she carried on, "I wish there had been some other way for me to tell you. You must have been terrified ." 

  "I was certainly confused, if nothing else." The paladin admitted with a wry smile. "I am immensely grateful to both of you, regardless of my own trials. You followed your training and stuck to your guns, and I couldn't be more proud." He deflated slightly. "Even if the pride of a synth means precious little."

  "The synth shit doesn't matter to either of us, sir." Rhys muttered. "We don't care. We're just glad you're back and that Maxson didn't manage to kill you. That's the important part, right?"

  "In a way." Danse agreed, grimacing. "Our battle is far from over, however."

  "Hey, we're doing something. That's more than a lot of people can say." Haylen reasoned, ever the optimist. "I've got faith in whatever plan you guys come up with."

  "Thank you for believing in me." The paladin murmured, giving the only surviving members of Squad Gladius a stiff salute. 

  "We know you, sir. You protected us, trained us. Built us up from basically nothing." Rhys sounded angry, his typically-sullen expression gone even more sour. "You think we could ever turn our backs on you? You're not that stupid."

  Haylen began to protest, "Rhys-"

  "Haylen, you and I both know he'll just self-deprecate until he dissolves. I'm not letting that happen." Rhys grumbled at the scribe, who fell silent at his reasoning. Her eyes were narrowed to slits and the sight was immensely entertaining to Danse, who couldn't keep a nervous chuckle from bubbling up in his throat.

  "I'm certain the two of you are aware of the devastating depression you dragged me out of all those years ago in the Capital Wasteland." Danse clapped Rhys on the shoulder and caught Haylen up in a rare one-armed hug. "How many times will you two save me? Should I start taking you for granted?" 

  "Paladin Danse, sir, w-we…" Haylen trailed off, her lower lip quivering. She buried her face in Danse's ribs and Rhys grunted.

  "Haylen, c'mon . Pull it together." He huffed, his own eyes looking suspiciously wet. "Listen, sir, I think I've made our position pretty clear. We follow your orders. Learning about that shit with Maxson-"

  "I'm so angry! " Haylen interrupted him, glaring upwards. "God Danse, I'm furious . What he did to you is unforgivable, inexcusable." She announced hotly. "Everyone assumed something was going on, but we also assumed it was consensual ."

  " 'Everyone' ?" Danse echoed, a weird surge of retroactive embarrassment seizing his body. "I suppose I should be thankful you all were so willing to offer me the illusion of privacy." He mumbled.

  "He's never coming anywhere near you again, sir." Rhys stated, his jaw set in an angry scowl. "I don't care if he's the last of the Maxson line. I'll break his fucking skull."

  His words stirred Danse's guilt to life, the ugly feeling rearing its head once more. "It is a difficult situation to be in. I do not envy our elders, past or present." Danse tried to pose the sentence with a modicum of compassion, though he was unsure of the attempt's success. The paladin knew that despite Maxson's position of power, Danse bore a majority of the blame for not standing up to the elder until it was too late to prevent his spiral.

  "Difficult, my ass ." Rhys growled under his breath.

  …

  "So we've got Preston, someone by the name of John D., the…" Ingram narrowed her eyes at the readout. " Atom Cats ?"

  "Yep. Real into their power armor. And Zeke owes me a favor." Backhand explained, continuing to scroll through her Pip Boy notes. "If I can get them to walk across the pond and cover the Castle, that will free up more Minutemen to join us."

  "Should I ask how you managed to ingratiate yourself with so many of these people?" 

  "I'm a sucker for a lost cause." Vega answered, her tone dry. 

  Ingram snorted, shaking her head. "Lucky for us, I imagine. Also lucky for us that you're the forgiving sort."

  "Let's not get ahead of ourselves, Proctor." Backhand retorted. "I'm just not yet in a position to combat your aerial superiority."

  "Whew, gonna' file that one away for later consideration."

  A soft knock on the comm doorway interrupted the two women, and Vega turned to see Danse peering cautiously into the room. "Paladin! You're just in time, we were about to start rallying the troops. Want to lend a hand?" 

  "What needs to be done, General Vega?" The paladin asked, his posture gone stiff and proper. 

  Backhand could feel her smile dim slightly, but she reined herself in. They had all been through so much, she reasoned, and old habits were usually a comfort. "Well, I've got a few calls to make on my own, but if you can get in touch with Lieutenant Garvey that would be a huge help."

  "Understood." 

  Proctor Ingram (who had been watching their exchange with poorly-veiled interest) stepped out of the way so that Danse could settle down at the desk alongside one of their many radio switchboards. "Vega, I think the two of you can handle this." The older woman remarked, giving Elizabeth a sly wink behind Danse's back. "I'll start whipping the base camp into shape. Make myself useful, y'know. Ad Victoriam."

  Vega went bright red as Ingram saluted, the proctor sporting an absolutely infuriating smirk. "B-But Proctor--"

  "No buts! You guys handle the easy stuff. I'll manage the elbow grease." Ingram then mouthed talk to him! , before strolling out of the comm area. Backhand swore under her breath, thumping her fist into the desk in mute frustration. 

  "I can leave, General Vega." Danse offered, making her start and whirl to face him.

  "No no! No, uh, you're fine. You're not the problem here." Vega assured him, waving her hands nervously. "I'm just...I'm a little uptight, that's all."

  "Will your forces refuse to join us?" The paladin asked, his rigid posture easing slightly as he tipped his head back to look up at her. He continued in an undertone, "Would it be simpler to do it with your troops alone? Do you truly need the Brotherhood?"

  "We do need the Brotherhood, yes. But I don't think we'll need them for the fighting. We'll need them for the mass casualty options and the refugee care after the fact." Backhand began to pace, mostly so she didn't have to maintain eye contact. The paladin looked fatigued yet determined, and it pained her to know that rest was still so far away for them. Rest and the possibility of actually speaking with him about the thing that had been on her mind in one form or another since…

  Well, it had been a long time.

  "We'll need help rebuilding more than anything. Not a lot of settlements will be keen to take on synths, so I'll need to figure out some kind of alternative. I really need to talk with Nick and Dea--er, John D ., and get their input on this whole engagement." Backhand rubbed her temples. "And here I thought getting in would be the hard part!" She tried to joke. 

  After a moment of silence, Vega heard Danse clear his throat. "General... Elizabeth , I know you already have many responsibilities, all of them miles more important than my own struggles."

  Backhand looked over at him expectantly, a little confused. 

  "I have to give Cade a full report." The tall man said abruptly. "I...he wants to know everything that's transpired." He stared down at the floor, the heel of his boot scuffing the grating beneath them as he rushed to add, "I know it's selfish of me to ask you to--I mean, you've been through so much, b-but I was...rather, I am uncertain of this endeavor, and my ability to maintain my composure during it. You tend to have a mollifying effect on me for some reason."

  "You want me to be present when you give your medical officer the full rundown?" Vega raised an eyebrow, further confused. Danse was a soldier , surely he had endured a full physical before?

  "I am overly anxious. It means reliving some portions of my past that I find...traumatic."

  "Oh." Oh . Backhand felt stupid as the truth dawned on her. Everything that's transpired . Of course Danse would want someone he trusted with him, this wasn't a physical exam at all. "What about Haylen or Rhys? Are they more appraised of the situation?"

  Danse was shaking his head before she had even finished. "I did my best to keep everything that happened quiet, though it appears that I was unsuccessful. I was told that was my only option, and I did not wish to disobey Maxson's orders." 

  "That fuckin' asshole." Vega growled. "Alright, if you're sure it's me you want with you, I'm here."

  "You don't have t--er, that is, I regret taking up more of your valuable time, General Vega. I promise after this meeting with Cade, I will be fully at your disposal." He assured her, seemingly pained by his current state.

  "Danse, I don't care about that. I don't want you better just so you can get used up again, I want you better for you . I'm sorry that all of this robs you of the proper time to regroup, y'know?" Backhand apologized, her words deliberately quiet as she boldly laced her fingers through his own. "Once we're done here, though, you need to take some time off. General's orders."

  "I would have to speak with Elder Brandis on the matter. As his most senior paladin, I am unsure if he would be able to permit me that luxury." Danse replied unhappily, giving her hand a gentle squeeze before he released it. "' A run ashore ', always just out of reach."

  "I'm getting you time off, even if I have to kidnap you myself." 

  The paladin's chuckle in reply to her threat was subdued, but it still sent a frisson of happiness through her body. Backhand choked down the guilt of having those feelings in the first place for just a second, choosing to bask in the warm sensation. 

  "When you're ready, General, I'll need the proper frequencies to speak with the Castle." Danse's request brought her crashing back down to earth, and Vega rushed to oblige him.

  There's always something else to do .

  …

  Two days later, on the cusp of their attack on the Institute, the both of them were seated in Knight-Captain Cade's main office aboard the Prydwen. The older officer sat across from them in the cramped space, a clipboard propped up on his knee.

  "The only questions I'll ask will be strictly for clarity's sake." The knight-captain informed Danse quietly. "If you don't want to answer, that is entirely acceptable and within your right, but the more information we have, the better."

  Danse nodded, the motion stilted. "I understand, Knight-Captain. I'll do my best to cooperate." 

  Vega squeezed his hand. God knew she didn't like this one damn bit, but she was going to stick it out for him. After all, he had gone to bat for her against the elder . Loyalty like that was in short supply. "I'm right here with you, Danse." She said softly. He had gone pasty white beneath his usual windblown complexion, and he gripped her hand wordlessly. 

  "If you could start at the beginning, Paladin. Or as close to it as possible." Cade prompted him.

  "Yes, I...of course." Danse rasped. "The first time we engaged was shortly before the Brotherhood lost Knight Cutler."

  Cade looked at him over his half-moon glasses, seeming perturbed. "That was...so this was a prolonged assault."

  "Not an assault. I did as I was ordered." The dull tone of Danse's voice, the way his eyes had gone almost grey ...Vega wanted to know how the hell Maxson had ever justified this. "I could not bring myself to question Arthur. He came to me, at first simply asking for help even though it was an order. He said he couldn't sleep. I...I never told Cutler. I didn't think it was relevant. I thought I was helping the new elder." Danse looked up at Cade. "I know what it's like to not be able to sleep for all the thoughts in your head."

  "Was there a specific point in time where his behavior shifted? Perhaps when it became more clear to you that there was something wrong?" Backhand was grateful for the delicate way Cade phrased the question.

  "I…" Danse's brow furrowed. "...had just come back with...after what transpired with Cutler. Four days on base. I was furious with Maxson for stationing Cutler out there, furious with myself for not saving Cutler. I was grieving and hurt both physically and emotionally, as you recall." Cade inclined his head. "I assume you also recall the bite on my arm that appeared shortly thereafter. That was a...result of my inability to perform."

  "Ah." Cade murmured, jotting something down.

  Bite? Vega could feel Danse trembling. "I-I was...unable to function or perform for him in a satisfactory manner and that was his method of voicing his frustration with me." Danse swallowed hard. "I was mourning , Cade." He sounded like he was begging the other man to understand, begging him not to judge.

  Perform for him. Backhand sucked in a deep breath through her nose, willing herself to stay silent. 

  "After that, I would just comply. It was never as bad as that time. I would perform for him to the best of my abilities." Danse paused, "but I never sought him out, and nothing occurred without me being ordered to do so." He then proceeded to rattle off a distressingly-long list of dates, every time that Maxson had coerced him. "I was not interested in...well, anyone , after Cutler." He muttered after a brief pause, "the term broken seems fitting." 

  "You weren't allowed proper space to heal yourself after what happened with Cutler. You were injured and then forced to deal with someone who kept prying open your wounds because they enjoyed lording their power over you." Cade theorized, his voice a little sharper. " Broken is not fitting in the slightest, Danse."

  The paladin shrugged. "Whatever the terminology might be, then." 

  " Traumatized , Danse. Emotional wounds take time to heal, just like physical ones. Losing Cutler in the way that we did-"

  "I deserved it!" Danse cut off the medical officer, leaning forward and clenching his free hand on his knee. "I failed Cutler, Cade! I should have gone after him sooner! The treatment from Maxson is what I deserved ." His eyes were wild, frantic. "He's an abuser, but I am a man deserving of every last instance of that abuse for my inaction when it came to Cutler!" The paladin reasoned intensely.

  Cade sighed, rifling through his clipboard. "Danse, you did not deserve or garner punishment for the consequences of Maxson's orders." He informed the other man quietly. "You were simply a man who lost someone that he cared deeply about."

  "And to find out that I'm not even that much!" Danse spat. "I'm still trying to cope with the reality that I am a living lie . My identity as Paladin Danse is nothing but a memory now. Everything I held dear, everything I ever believed in is completely gone. Can you imagine how that feels?" Danse was nearly shouting at this point, moving to stand. "I started out as nothing , and I've ended up as nothing . And I don't know what the hell to do about it!" 

  Backhand brought her hand up over his elbow, hauling him back down into his seat. " Listen to Cade, Danse." She growled. The paladin fought her grip briefly, but ultimately slumped in the chair. Good thing too, Vega wasn't exactly up to full strength just yet. The large man was shaking again, his breathing coming in harsh bursts. "It's okay, it's okay." Vega found herself repeating the phrase, rubbing circles on his back between his shoulder blades. Many members of military factions found repetition comforting and Danse appeared to be no exception, the large man heaving a massive sigh under the weight of her hand.

  "Danse, I'll fully admit to being out of my element here. I never expected to have to treat a synth." Knight-Captain Cade said plainly. "However, I've known you for many years. We have an established rapport. Your body is indistinguishable from an ordinary human body, as proved by my records. Your mental processes and pain responses are normal for a human. I suppose what I'm trying to say is learning that you are a synth may not change all that much, despite what you may be feeling."

  Danse choked out a forlorn noise that might have been a sob, burying his face in his hands. "I'm so confused." He confessed plaintively. "You're saying I did not deserve punishment for my failings, but...how else am I supposed to atone for Cutler?" He looked up, tears welling up in his eyes. "How am I supposed to reconcile with these human emotions, Cade? I barely kept myself under control when I believed I was human!"

  "Your feelings have always run deep, Danse. Your empathy for your fellow man has landed you in hot water more than once." Cade gestured at Vega. "According to our infiltrator, even the most brutal of synths feel regret and remorse just like we do, though they have not been taught how to cope with it."

  "I still feel like a human. Nothing feels different, yet now I constantly second-guess everything I do. I've had a plan from the beginning to shape my future, but I have to wonder about whether that's a lie as well." Danse remarked bitterly. "I had...I had hoped…" he trailed off, shaking his head. "It doesn't matter."

  Backhand could feel her heart breaking the longer he spoke. His true identity was an immense blow to him, and on top of it he was still struggling under the burden of the guilt he carried due to Cutler's demise. He blamed himself for Arthur's demands. 

  "Listen to Cade, Danse." She urged. Her hand was essentially on autopilot as she traced small patterns on the center of his back, moving up and down his spine without rhyme or reason. "You're not to blame for what Maxson did. It's not yours to bear. Trust me, coming from someone who's more than willing to take on other folk's problems, that weight is not yours."

  "But-"

  "You trust me, right?" Vega interrupted him softly, cupping his face so that he had to look at her.

  "With my life, General Vega." 

  The rapid sincerity of his reply startled her and Backhand needed to take a moment, steeling herself yet again. "I know you trust Cade too, and I know this won't be a quick or easy process. But you accepting that whatever happened was not your fault would be a huge first step."

  "I...If I do…" Danse paused, hesitating. "Vega, if I forget about him..."

  "Hey, nobody said anything about forgetting. You told me about Cutler, about how important he was to you. There's no way someone like you could forget about him. But you need to forgive yourself, you have to understand that losing him was not your fault." Once more she found herself in over her head, but she did her best to tell him all the things she wished someone had told her when Sergeant Cathan had died.

  "He was...he was everything to me." Danse's voice cracked. "And I had to--I had to, he was...I had to."

  "What happened to Cutler and his team was an immense tragedy, and a needless one at that." Cade spoke up from his seat, his brow furrowed. "Maxson outed himself quite thoroughly during the trial, I would say. It will be difficult for him to explain his actions away when so many witnesses heard exactly what he said." 

  Elizabeth felt Danse go still, the paladin hanging on to Cade's every word. "Am I even permitted to be happy that he may face consequences?" He asked uncertainly, wringing his hands. "Is that a breach of protocol, Knight-Captain?"

  The medical officer shifted his weight, leaning forward to prop himself up with his elbows on his knees. "I can't promise you swift justice, you know how the Brotherhood operates. But Arthur invoked the right of a litany trial, then proceeded to break his own terms. To say nothing of the fact that he nearly killed someone uninvolved in the trial." Cade shook his head. "His abuse flourished in secrecy. Now that everything is out in the open, I do not believe even his status as the last Maxson will sway the other elders when they pass judgement."

  "Thank you, Knight-Captain." Danse closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. "I...thank you, Vega." He continued, a little quieter. He caught her hand in his own, giving it a cautious squeeze. Almost as if he was imitating her gesture from earlier in the week. "I have so much to think about."

  "Agreed. Shall I put in a request to Brandis for a leave of absence?"

  Danse visibly recoiled at Cade's suggestion, his eyes going wide in dismay. "No! No, I am needed, Knight-Captain. After our assault has been carried out, and the Institute has been wiped from the map, I…" he hesitated, like the words were caught in his throat. "I will gladly take a leave. Until then, however, there is still work to do."

  "There is always work to do, Paladin." Cade chided. "Remember what I told you? You will burn yourself out and the Brotherhood can ill afford to lose you."

  "I'll see to it that he takes time off after our successful operation." Backhand stated firmly. Cade raised an eyebrow at that and Danse flushed across the bridge of his nose, stuttering a little. "Your health is important to me, Danse. You can be as stubborn as you want, but I'm not letting you weasel out of this." 

  "I suppose that will have to do." Cade sighed. "Do you have any questions for me, Paladin?"

  Danse shot a sidelong glance at Vega that she was relatively certain she wasn't supposed to see, the large man worrying his lower lip. Maybe it was just wishful thinking on her part, though, as Danse shook his head after a moment. "No, I...I just have some reflection to do." He got to his feet abruptly, saluting both Cade and Elizabeth. "Ad Victoriam, Knight-Captain. Ad Victoriam, General Vega."

  Cade returned the salute absently, already absorbed in writing something else down. Vega was a little slower, her query of, "do you need me, Danse?" coming out softer than she had intended.

  She wanted to believe that the paladin hesitated before he replied, "No, General Vega. I can manage."

Part Eighteen

[hanaasbananas]

100 Ways to say I Love You Chapter 56

I missed you (Adrinette)

Continuation of chapter 44

AO3

The most extraordinary days, Marinette found, did not often start that way.

All of the novels she had read—and she had read many —would have her believe that when something momentous was to occur, the signs for it would be everywhere. In the weather, in nature, in her very bones , she would know that something would happen.

That was not the case for Marinette.

When she had left that morning to run her errands, the sky had been overcast; steel grey bleeding into almost blindingly bright silver where the sun managed to penetrate through the dense clouds. A blanket of fog covered the city and the hazy mist had licked at her exposed skin, leaving her chilled, and seeking sanctuary from the weather at the local haberdashery.

Emerging an hour later—having gotten distracted by the fabrics and laces again—she hurried back to the bakery, praying fervently that the gloomy weather might have caused their morning rush to dwindle so that she would escape another thorough telling off about her atrocious time management.

As she approached the bakery, she saw that a man stood, in front of the entrance and her brow furrowed, noticing that he had yet to move, even though the sign in the window clearly indicated that they were open for business.

“The bakery’s open,” she called out, and he jolted at her voice, turning to face her. “You don’t have to stand at the door you know...” she trailed off, lips parting in surprise, her hand flying to her chest as she registered just who exactly stood in front of her.

His blonde hair was shorter, and there were lines in his face that hadn’t been there before. A bandage was wrapped around his palm and there were dark circles underneath his eyes, making it look as though he had been in a fight. And, she supposed, he had. But it was still unmistakeably him; his green eyes exactly the same, gazing at her just as reverently as he always had.

Oh. Marinette thought faintly, coming to a stop in front of Adrien. Oh I should have worn a prettier dress.

***

Adrien opened his mouth, but no words came out. Instead his eyes roved all over Marinette, drinking her in as though he were dying of thirst, and she was an oasis.

How could he have ever thought that a photograph would do her justice? That it could capture the true beauty-the true essence of the woman standing before him?

His fingers twitched at his side, aching to reach out and touch her inky hair-falling around her face in soft waves; to cup her cheek and feel her soft skin beneath his palm. For so many nights he had dreamed of this, dreamt of their reunion after the war, held onto that hope in the darkest of times when it had seemed he would never return to her.

And now, it seemed all his words had abandoned him.

Abruptly, he was reminded of the time before their courtship.It had taken him an entire month to build up the courage to ask if she might step out with him. For a week, his mother had received delicious pastries from the Dupain bakery that he bought every time he stopped by until eventually, her father had taken pity on him and stationed Marinette at the counter so that he could take his chance.

He thought he’d been tongue tied then, but that did not compare to his speechlessness now. Marinette had yet to speak either, standing silently in front of him, and Adrien found himself wondering if she was even glad to see him.

The war had changed him after all. It had changed them all. Though he had strived to remain true to himself, even he couldn’t remain untouched by the horrors he had seen.  Was he too different? Could she see it in him? See how he was no longer the cheerful optimist who—

Marinette threw herself at him, breaking him from his spiralling thoughts, and Adrien stumbled backwards a step, his arms coming up instinctively to steady her. She buried her face in the crook of his neck and he swallowed roughly, feeling the knot in his chest loosen and disintegrate in response to her touch.

“Hello,” Marinette whispered, pulling away slightly to look at him, though she did not remove her arms from behind his neck. Her eyes were wide, disbelieving, as though she could not quite fathom his presence in front of her.

“Hello,” he replied, just as quietly.

Mouth ticking up in a smile, Adrien finally gave into the urge to cup her face, stroking her cheek gently with his thumb and laughing softly as she leaned into the touch, exhaling shakily, her eyes fluttering closed. Sliding his hand down to the back of her neck, he pulled her close, pressing their foreheads together and bumping his nose against hers, murmuring. “I missed you.”

Marinette sighed, blinking up at him. Her usually vibrant blue eyes were even brighter than usual, glistening with unshed tears, and Adrien felt the breath catch in his throat at the sheer joy he saw in her eyes. Before he could say anything else, however, she rose up on her tiptoes, tilting her chin up and catching his lips with hers, her mouth a soft pressure against his as he slid his hands into her hair and drew her closer, smiling against her lips.

He could not say how long they stood there, simply basking in each other's presence, but when they eventually pulled away—neither letting go of the other—he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he was finally home.

[stillchaoticlogic]

Stumbling: Chapter 3

Pairing: Raihan X Reader X Leon

Your life hadn’t gone exactly as you planned…

Which is why when an old rival walks into the coffee shop you work at he gives you an offer you just can’t refuse. Finally, a chance at the League. Suddenly you are thrust into the spot light and a world you thought you had left behind. Dreams aren’t always what they are cracked up to be though, especially when you find yourself the tangled up with the champion and a certain gym leader.

Has all your dreams come true?

Or is this your worst nightmare?

Read the First Chapter Here!

Read the Second Chapter Here!

**Masterlist Coming Soon!**

Dragons are a Girl’s Best Friend

*Warning: There is depictions of pokemon abuse. Nothing graphic, but you have been warned.*

As you walk out onto the Pitch, every possible emotion courses through your body. You know that this is the moment you have been waiting for. A chance at something more, something wonderful. You can’t just hear the roar of the crowd, you can feel it in your bones and you have never felt more at home than you do in this moment. With a striking rush of clarity, you know your goal. This is more than just winning. 

Your heart is in your throat as you gaze at the gym leaders before you. Each one a celebrity and powerhouse in their own right. Your eyes zero in on the innocent farmer boy’s smile of Milo. He’s the first in the line up and the only opponent that currently matters. Everyone between the two of you are just stepping stones. 

The world stops as the names of the competitors are announced and somewhere in the back of your mind you acknowledge your face is currently the size of an Wailmer on a screen bigger than your entire apartment. Perhaps it’s best to not think about that too much. 

Within a blink, the ceremony is over and you are exiting the locker room in a daze of emotions and ideas. You suddenly feel overwhelmed with the task set before you, and yet you have never been more excited in your life. Around you are mostly younger teens, fresh from the academy with a dream and more optimism than you’ve ever had in your lifetime. If nothing else your life experience will serve you well. 

You’re out the door of the stadium in a moment and you’ve taken refuge on the bench beside of the arena. You feel a vibration in your pocket and you pull your phone to see a text from Leon asking where you are. You text him back a moment later and just rest your head back, lightly bumping it against the wall before your close your eyes. 

“(Name)! There you are! What are you doing out here?” You hear Leon exclaim as he comes rushing up to you. You notice someone behind him and recognize the Dragon Trainer Raihan, otherwise known as Leon’s biggest rival. 

You roll your head towards the men and give them a slight smile, “It’s loud in there…”

“Well you best get used to the crowd cheering your name! Your first gym battle is soon!” Leon says in excitement as he plops down on the bench next to you. 

“Now I see why you’re so eager for...what did you call her? Oh yeah! ...your first rival, to battle you.”

“Why’s that?” you ask in curiosity lifting your head from the wall. 

“Because you’re so pretty,” he says with a wink and you feel your entire face heat up. 

“Wait a second are you blushing?! The Great (Name)! Blushing?” exclaims Leon in surprise. 

“Hush Leon… No one asked for your commentary… besides I just had my face on a jumbotron for the first time and I’m feeling a little embarrassed. Of course my face is red!”

“It wasn’t red when I sat down…” Leon says, “You don’t have a crush on Raihan do you?”

“And if I do?” you ask with a challenge in your eye. 

Leon’s eyes widen and he sputters for a moment as if he hadn’t been expecting you to agree, “Well…”

“You’re not jealous are you Leon?” asks Raihan. 

“What?! No!”

“Are you sure? She’s awful pretty! And from the way you talk about her…” he pauses and whistles, “she’s going to be a wildcat on the battlefield.”

“Did you just call me a wildcat?”

“Maybe? You like it?” he asks with another wink. 

You let out a chuckle at the Dragon trainer and shake your head, “I’ve had worse nicknames.”

“Like what?”

“You don’t need to know…”

“Oh now I definitely need to know!”

“When we battle, if you win, I’ll tell you otherwise it’s going to my grave.”

“Deal! Just know I have an extra reason to win now!”

“Of course… I mean by the time I get to you… you won’t stand a chance…”

He smiles, his fang like teeth prominent, “We’ll see about that…” he says with a wink.

It’s at that moment that you notice something across the walkway on the other side of the arena doors. Your eyes widen as anger courses through your body at the sight and before you can even think you’re rushing to the scene unfolding before you. You don’t stop and just throw your arm up, the whip in the teen’s hand wrapping itself around your forearm. You feel nothing but rage as you rip your arm back, pulling the whip from the hands of the surprised male and fixing him with a glare as you stand protectively over the young Jangmo-o. He’s cowering in terror from his trainer and just turns his head farther away as his trainer yelled in indignation at you.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?! Get out my way!”

“How dare you?” your voice is deathly calm, the slight tremble of rage the only thing giving away your emotions. 

“It’s my Pokemon I can do what I want with it!”

“No, you absolutely can’t do whatever you want with it! It’s a living breathing creature, NOT a toy.”

“Get out of my way and mind your business,” he says as he takes a menacing step towards you. 

“This is my business.”

“MOVE!” he yells as he raises his fist in the air, but before he even has time to move, a hand is holding his arm back. Leon and Raihan, along with a crowd of people, are glaring at the teen. He looks nervous for the first time before he glances back at you. You pay him no mind as you turn around and bend down, cautiously approaching the baby dragon behind you. It flinches away from your touch and you feel your heart break. 

“It’s okay… I’m not going to let anything happen to you anymore…” you coo at it. 

Serenity pops out of her pokeball and approaches the dragon slowly, chirping at it as she does so. You’re not in the least bit surprised when she uses the move Life Dew on it in an attempt to make it feel better. You watch as the baby slowly turns its head to face her as she continues to chatter at it, indicating you every once in awhile. With hesitant steps the tiny dragon approaches you slowly and looks up at you, fear in its eyes. 

“I’m going to pick you up so I can take you to the Pokemon center okay? A nurse needs to look at those cuts.”

It looks away from you but lowers its head in acceptance. Your heart breaks as you pull it into your arms and turn around. Everyone is silent as they watch you carry the baby Pokemon away from them, its head buried in your chest, its breathing is erratic. You rush down the street, away from the crowd, and to the nearest Pokemon center which feels like it’s miles away. You burst through the doors and quickly explain the situation to the nurse on duty. After you hand the baby dragon over to her, you walk over to a corner and just sit, exhaustion encompassing your body. At one point, you become vaguely aware someone has handed you some food and a bottle of water, you eat it robotically and just keep your eyes on the doors hoping that at any moment you’ll hear some good news. 

You feel the moment that Leon and Raihan sit next to you, one on either side. You can feel the rage still radiating off of the two of them. 

“His trainer license has been revoked and he’s been disqualified from the competition,” says Leon in barely contained rage. 

“He’s never going to see Jango-o or his other Pokemon ever again,” growls Raihan from your other side. 

“Good… What’s going to happen to…”

You don’t get to finish your question as the light goes off and the nurse emerges with news of the pokemon. You are up in a flash and walk towards her. 

“How is…?”

“She? She’s doing just fine. She’s resting right now give her a moment and perhaps go try to see her? She seems to be relaxing a little bit despite what happened.”

“What’s going to happen to her?” you ask softly as you turn back towards the two men behind you. 

“Officially, she would go to my gym, since it’s a Dragon gym and it’s the sanctuary for Dragon types that need it,” Raihan supplies as he gets up to stand in front of you. 

“What then?”

“Well… when she’s ready she would get rehomed.”

“I see….”

“You want to keep her?”

You look up at him in shock, “What?”

“She deserves someone who is going to know her story, and you do… So who best to be with her than you?”

“I-I… Yes! If that’s what she wants…” you say with a relieved smile. 

He sends you his million dollar smile and ushers you into the room to see her. 

She’s curled up in a blanket resting, but starts the second she hears someone in the room. She whips her head around to see you standing in the doorway her scales clinking weakly. She regards you with caution as you slowly approach her, her eyes watching your every move. When you get close enough to her you just smile and speak softly to her. 

“I see that you are feeling better, that makes me so happy. Raihan just told me that… if you want… you can stay with me. You don’t have to go back to that mean boy.”

You watch as her head perks up at that and for the first time you see a spark in her eye and you hope that it’s not too late for her to be healed. You gently pick her up and cradle her in your arms. You hold her close to your body and she cuddles up against you. When you walk out, Raihan hands you her pokeball and you gaze down at it for a moment before you put it into the holder on your hip. 

“How about you head back to the inn, and I’ll pick up some take out?” Leon asks as he puts a hand on your shoulder. 

“That sound good…”

“Raihan, do you want to escort her back?”

He just nods before indicating you to follow him out the door. The trip to the inn is full of fans and reporters trying to find out what happened. What you didn’t know is that the League had roped off the center to keep the nosey media and masses out. Luckily, the inn is off limits to everyone who isn’t in the League today and other than a few curious competitors no one else really bothers you when you arrive. This, however, didn’t stop anyone from taking photos or video of the three of you. 

“You doing okay?” Raihan asks once you are both situated in your room, the baby dragon on your bed along with Serenity. The two had become fast friends and seemed to be talking up a storm. 

“Yeah… I’m just exhausted… The past 24 hours haven’t really stopped and I think the only thing I’ve really had to eat is sugar… Not doing the best at taking care of myself today…”

“What did you do? Eat cake for dinner?” he asks with a chuckle.

Your only reply is a sheepish glance over at him.

“You did, didn’t you?” he asks with a laugh. 

“Hey! It’s not my fault! I let Serenity pick what we were having!” you with say a playful smile. 

Serenity squeaks in indignation before chattering back at you. 

“No I supposed I didn’t do anything to stop it…”

She nods in satisfaction before turning back to her new friend. 

“She reminds me of Goodra when he was a Goomy.”

“Do you miss him being so tiny?” you ask with a laugh. 

“Sometimes?” he says laughing, “He liked to crawl into my lap when he was small and now sometimes he still tries to.”

“NO way!” you laugh. 

“Oh yeah… a couple hundred pounds of dragon will wake you up really fast.”

You laugh at the image of the purple dragon trying to sneak his way into Raihan’s lap on cold nights and just lose it. 

A knock on the door signifies that Leon is here with the food and your grateful when Raihan rushes to get the door for him. Leon has a literal mountain of take out and he puts the multitude of  bags on the table. 

“Leon… that’s a lot…”

“I guess I got a bit carried away… I wasn’t sure what you would want, so I got some of everything!” he says as he rubs the back of neck with a glorious smile. 

“Thanks… I think…”

“I see Jangmo-o is doing better!”

“She is! She’s probably hungry…” you mutter as you pull the containers out and begin to divy food out for the pokemon before you. They happily tuck into the food and you watch in affection at your two partners happily munching on their food. 

“What are you going to name her?” Leon asks before taking a big bite of his own food.

“I haven’t really thought about it…”

“Something strong, she’s a dragon afterall,” Raihan mutters before stealing a bite of Leon’s food. He just answers Leon’s glare with a lazy grin. 

“I’ll figure something out…” you say through a yawn.

“You need to rest, you’ve had a rough day,” says Leon.

“It’s okay…”

“No, Leon’s right, you should rest up! Especially since tomorrow you start out on your adventure. You excited?”

“I am! I still have a few things I need to stock up on before I can head out though.”

“Are you heading to the wild area?” asks Leon. 

“That’s the plan… I need to round out my team before I start hitting up the gyms. Besides the wild ares is one of the best places to catch Pokemon!”

“Any Pokemon in particular that you are hoping for?” Raihan asks. 

“I have a couple in mind!”

“Want to share with the class, princess?” 

“Don’t even try with her Raihan! She’s keeping her team a secret for some reason!” Leon is obviously still offended that you refused to tell him your line up. 

“Oh lay off! Maybe I want to surprise you!”

“Surprise us? I can think of a few good surprises…” Raihan growls out. 

You smack his arm with a laugh and he grins at you.

“Very funny Raihan…”

“You’re the only one laughing, princess…”

“What’s with this ‘princess’ all of a sudden?”

“Dragons like princesses,” he says with a shrug. 

“Well too bad I’m the farthest thing from one.”

“I highly doubt that…”

“Oh no… It’s true… I’m far more queen than I am princess,” you say with a cheshire cat grin on your face. 

The two men just shake their heads, but have a hard time disagreeing, especially after what happened today.

Notes:

Tell me what you think! What should our new babies name be? I am taking suggestions!