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celestiall0tus · 4 months

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Court of Miracles - Chapter 3 - Reveal

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Luka grumbled as he fought with his necktie. A knock on his door interrupted his battle. He turned as Anarka stepped into his room.

“You almost ready?” Anarka asked.

“Yeah, just fighting with this.”

Anarka chuckled. “Need help, lad?”

“No. I got this. I’ve done it before.”

“Alright, but I’m only giving you-.”

A man pushed past Anarka and struck a pose in the room. “Surprise!”

Luka and Anarka turned to the man and stared. He wore a sleeveless under bust corset tailcoat that trailed behind him in long peacock feathers, a blue shirt with sleeves that flared and dangled at his elbows with a few buttons undone to expose his chest, black pants, and white knee-high boots. His messy, beach blonde hair was slicked back in an elegant mess that framed his face perfectly. Gold bracelets and cuffs adorned both his arms with a single gold earring in his right ear.

“Adrien? What are you-?” Luka started.

Adrien tackled Luka, kissing Luka. Anarka cleared her throat, earning Adrien’s attention.

“Adrien, what are you doing here?”

“Huh? Oh! Well, it’s rather simple. I wanted to see my darling little snake charmer. It has been so long after all.”

“We were on our way to the Court soon. You could have waited.”

Adrien cooed like a bird as he nuzzled Luka. “Oh, I know, but I couldn’t wait any longer. I just had to see him. He is my favorite after all.”

Anarka scoffed. “You may be the Peacock, but you need to leave Luka be. You’ll need to focus on finding a suitable mate, not just some passing fancies. It’s your responsibility to-.”

Anarka stopped abruptly and left the room. Adrien let out a long sigh and cuddled up to Luka.

“Are you ok?” Luka asked.

“I’m fine. Just tired of hearing that same bullshit. I know what I should be doing, but that doesn’t mean I want to do it. Not that they’d accept I want you even if they did take me seriously.”

Luka opened his mouth to speak, but Adrien continued.

“I mean, now they’re pushing me to be with that stupid Butterfly girl. She’s so annoying. All she does is preach utter nonsense about how I’m such an utter disgrace and need to act like I should. The utter nerve of that little brat. I am a glorious peacock and a Highborn at that. Where does she get off shaming me like that? Honestly, where? Oh, and don’t get me started on-!”

Luka kissed Adrien to silence him. He kept their faces within an inch of each other’s. “We can talk about this later after all the pompous and ceremony when it’s just us and the only eyes are your fabulous feathers.”

Adrien cooed softly. He kissed Luka on the lips and trailed to Luka’s ear. “You need to get better at tying ties, my sweet toxin.”

Luka looked down at his perfectly tied necktie. “Hey, mine might not be perfect, but it gets the job done.”

Adrien snorted. “That mangled mess is far from getting the job done. Besides, what message are you sending looking like?”

Luka smirked. “You know, not everyone cares about appearances, right?”

Adrien gasped in feigned horror and dramatically fainted into Luka’s arms.

“No, say it isn’t so. You couldn’t have possibly uttered such blasphemy. Not you, my heart, of all people.”

Luka rolled his eyes as he scooped up Adrien. “Alright, your Majesty. Save the theatrics for later. We have to get going.”

Adrien shrugged and snuggled up to Luka. He cooed while Luka carried him out towards the door. Luka stopped dead and back stepped.

Adrien looked up. “What’s going on?”

“Stay low. Don’t let her see you.”

Adrien cooed. His head turned to the front where he heard a pair of women yelling. He rolled out of Luka’s arms and approached the railing. His eyes widened seeing Anarka fighting with a young lady covered in layers upon layers of clothes.

“Who’s she?” Adrien asked.

“Uh, that would be Juleka. My twin.”

“Wait. You have a sister, and you didn’t tell me?”

“Well, I wasn’t allowed to. She kinda had her memory of the Court and everything erased at a young age. So, you know.”

Adrien grimaced. He turned back to the fight and listened to them.

“Juleka, please. I just need you out for a few minutes, then you can come right back. How hard is that to understand?” Anarka demanded.

Juleka sneered. “And how hard is it for you to just let me go to my damned room? Why are you trying to toss me back out in the freezing cold? Is this it? Is this the day you finally fucking realize you don’t want me? Is this the day you realize you should have tossed me out sooner?”

“Juleka, that’s not what I’m saying. You know we care-.”

“Don’t fucking finish that damn sentence. You don’t care. You never did.”

“I didn’t? Then why did I send all those years clothing and feeding you? How can you say I don’t care?”

“Because you didn’t have the mother fucking balls to put me up for adoption like you should have. Maybe then I’d have a mother that actually loved me and a brother that didn’t treat me like trash to be tossed aside.”

Adrien glanced back as Luka flinched as if Juleka’s words physically struck him.

Anarka scowled. “How dare you? How ungrateful must you be? We gave you everything.”

Juleka laughed harshly. “You fucking tossed me aside the moment I was inconvenient. You showered the fucking golden child with everything. And what was I? Nothing. Absolutely fucking nothing. And right now, that nothing just wants to hide away and not see your ugly ass mugs.”

“You have no right to-.”

“Shut the fuck up and get out of my way, banshee.”

Juleka attempted to push past Anarka, but Anarka held her back. She struggled against Anarka’s grip with the door flung open. Everyone braced against the cold while she let out a horrid animalist shriek. Everyone gawked at her except the newcomer, Jagged Stone, their father.

“What’s up, party people!” Jagged Stone cheered.

“Shut the damn door you damned fool!” Juleka roared.

“Excuse you, but who do you think that you are to command me? I’m the legendary-.”

“You’re the legendary slacker that was out of fashion and relevance back in the seventies. The only defining feature about you is the hippie, fuckboy whoring around and excessive drugs you overindulge in to maintain any semblance of importance,” Juleka hissed.

“Well. You are… very mean,” Jagged Stone remarked.

“And I’m about to get a whole lot meaner if you don’t shut that damn door.”

Jagged Stone crossed his arms and stood indignantly. “No. Do it yourself.”

Juleka opened her mouth to yell, but only managed a loud, menacing snake hiss. Everyone watched as Juleka transformed into a large black cobra naga with a turquoise underbelly and diamond markings down the length of her back and tail. Juleka hissed again and advanced towards Jagged Stone but collapsed onto the pile of her torn clothes.

Jagged Stone fainted at the sight while Anarka ran to shut the door. She ran back to Juleka. She flinched at Juleka’s ice cold scales. Adrien jumped down to the main floor with Luka and joined Anarka.

“Anarka, did you know?” Adrien asked.

“I… how could I? I never thought… I mean with her powers never developing at the proper age, I just assumed… Oh, Juleka.”

“Mom, now’s not the time. We need to get her to the Court,” Luka interjected.

“Right. Right, the Court. They’ll need to see this. They’ll have to help her.”

Luka placed a reassuring hand on Anarka’s shoulder. She gave him a smile while Adrien lifted Juleka onto his shoulders.

“Let’s go. The Court of Miracles awaits.”

9 notes · View notes

sooibian · 3 years

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Star-Crossed

Pairing: Baekhyun x Fem!Reader, OC Lys, Minseok, Yixing

Description: In his struggle with his inner demons and the outside world, will Baekhyun succeed in saving the one he loves?

Themes: Romani AU, magical realism, fluff, angst, mildly explicit, implied smut, secret relationship, knife related superstitions

Warnings: Blood, knives, violence

Word Count: 8.2k

Tagging: @changshapatrol @rosetvler @bbyunz @is-that-baekhyuns-shirt @royal-aeris @bbhmystar @tydontstop shy tagging @his-mochi-cheeks !

Part of the Steampunk Romani AU collab with @leewalberg @vampwrrr @xui-n-soowillbethedeathofme

Pre-reading notes:

Baekhyun can influence physical objects with his mind, unnamed MC is a plant whisperer, Yixing is a dragon, and Lys is a mind reader.

Glossary: bulibasha - clan leader; chao - tea; dragă - darling; dya - mother; gadjo - someone of non romani descent/origin; iubit - lover; kafa - coffee; lăutari - musicians

**********************************

The camp was bathed in an enchanting silver of the sparkling night sky. Evenings like these were ideal for bonfires and conviviality. Merry peals of laughter reached your ears in sporadic waves - delightful by nature but not entirely alluring. You’d always preferred the abyss of your own thoughts. Encumbered by gaiety, not many missed you on such occasions for you were ordinarily out of sight - living on the far edge of the camp, a stone’s throw from the surrounding forest that served your clandestine gift for curative botanicals. The one that you had inherited from your mother.

You would have loved nothing more than to spend your days curating elixirs for inflictions superficial and of the mind. Hogweed for flu, Borango for the heart, lavender blossoms for the mind...the flora would sing sweet praises of her roots, stems, leaves, flowers, and fruits. Songs that could be heard by you and your mother before you. The others, they had to study. They had to spend nights on end learning and perfecting this scientific art.

Destiny demanded you take over your ailing grandfather’s weapons trade and spend a good part of your life acquiring and selling lethal daggers, swords, machetes, and often the antiquated colt. But you held no bitterness against the inexorable fate and accepted life as it came with its blunt and sharp blows.

As you sat tidying your workbench, your paring knife slid off and fell to the floor with a clang as if to signal you of an impending rendezvous. The wintry chill took you by the tips of your fingers ever so gently and guided you out of the comfort of your home only to envelope you in her warmest embrace.

The sound of his footsteps set your heart racing and you cursed at your rather self-destructive whims and fancies. Not wanting to seem like you were dawdling, you almost hurried back into the caravan but decided against it in the last minute. Even after everything, he had your soul dangling by a string, jerking it to the tunes of a bittersweet symphony. Appearing unflustered, you forced your eyes to marvel at the blue-white Rigel and red Betelgeuse instead but they battled for a mere glimpse at him.

The moon cast a beautiful, pearly sheen on the visitor but failed at masking his savagery. His black ankle banded pants, the frayed red brocade coat that was layered over a lace up shirt, the weighty golden azazel ring on his left thumb which was a sign of his elevated status in the clan, the leather belt around his lean waist, even the bandoleer strapped over his right thigh that steadfastly held his jamdhar all bore garish smudges of dried blood.

The guilt of seeing this dagger on his person never ceased to bog you down. Had you not found it, it would never have found Baekhyun.

He stopped at a foot's distance from you, one hand pressing a piece of cloth to an old gash across his eyebrow which seemed to have come undone. He watched you with an unmistakable conviction in his boldly lined eyes while yours landed on the sprig of basil resting against his throat. It made your heart clench with a fatal concoction of hurt and guilt.

He shouldn’t be here.

You pointedly scrutinized the smoky emanations that rose in black wisps from the weapon. Despite your continued dissent, Baekhyun insisted on using the jamdhar. He cleared his throat meekly, drew the weapon out of the bandoleer and hid it in the inside pocket of his coat and advanced towards you.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, you said "Stay", and raised your index finger at him as if in command. The last time Baekhyun wound up in your caravan it didn't end well for you. In fact, every time he came to see you, he brought along with him agonizing memories of that day - the one day on which you both wished that the sun hadn’t risen.

As soon as you turned around, he grabbed you by your wrist to hold you firmly in place. The front window of the vehicle burst open and with a whooshing sound your medicine crate and teapoy flew out of it only to carefully descend at your feet.

"When will you ever stop flaunting your feathers like a peacock." You muttered under your breath, pursing your lips to suppress a smile. "I'll need a flask, a lidded dish...and a mat."

In one quick movement, he pulled you towards him, deliberately pressing his firm, laddish torso to your back. He leaned in closer, his tender lips and warm breath tickling your ear, as he whispered, "Take me inside, saves us the hassle", sending a frisson of wildness down your spine.

But you were quick to prise away from his captivating grasp and meet his misty eyes with an unwavering gaze. Crossing your arms over your chest, you stated with a hint of annoyance in your tone, "The Healer lives not too far from here. I'm just a weapons dealer, anyway."

Strangely enough, only the potions and cures concocted by you soothed Baekhyun’s woes - they helped restore his strength that was devoured raw by the jamdhar. But that wasn’t the only reason why he was drawn to you. If Baekhyun knew love, it was because he saw it in your eyes. With his head rested in your lap, the one feared by all felt at home... he felt at peace.

Averting his gaze from your stern countenance, he let out a deep sigh and conceded defeat.

***

You started him off with a decoction of Feverfew flowers diluted with water and honey to help soothe his muscular aches while concocting a balm out of beeswax, Laca leaves and powdered root of the Allheal plant for his bruises. He took a hesitant sip and thrust the flask back into your hand, wincing at the bitter taste of the brew, "More honey."

"Honey doesn’t come cheap." You jeered, immediately regretting your words as you glanced over his soul crushingly worn out demeanour.

Baekhyun’s undertakings as the money lender’s henchman always ended up taking an ugly toll on him. This wasn’t something he was cut out for but weighed down by the burden of fealty, the obvious facts seemed to elude him. Hastily handing him the jar of honey, you inched closer to him to clean his wound.

He retreated playfully. Gaping at you, he complained in mock-offense, “Men and women shouldn’t be inappropriately intimate!”

Unheeding, you responded, “Especially if they’re spoken for.”

His jaw dropped in protest but he clamped it shut at once. Lowering his gaze, he quietly added a generous dollop of the sweet nectar to the flask and stirred the mixture with one of the decontaminated knives from your medicine crate.

“Stir with a knife and stir up strife”, you taunted him despite yourself.

Undeterred, he continued to stir with an increased vigour. “Since it doesn’t bode well for us to see each other unless I’m battered and bruised”, he retorted, chuckling darkly, the sparkle of the entire galaxy pooling in the depth of his eyes, “this solves it.”

Growing up, you never concerned yourself with the frail and sickly lad who had the ability to influence physical objects with his mind; he didn’t mingle with kids his age and spent most of his time tailing the money lender’s son Minseok. Now that you think about it, it was the other way round. Minseok tailed Baekhyun, cleaning up the messes he made and looking after him despite the second-rate treatment the adopted boy received from the rest of his family. For someone that small-boned, Baekhyun was loud, boisterous, and slightly too obnoxious. It wasn’t long before you wrote the troublemaker off as someone you’d rather steer clear of.

You, on the other hand, spent the better part of your childhood and adolescent years learning the Romano Zakono at the feet of your grandfather, apprenticing with the Healers of the clan, practising intricate embroidery and the cursive script, and secretly mimicking the songs and dances of the lăutari.

You’ll never forget the day he sneaked up on you dancing to one of Damian Draghici’s songs. It was a little before sunset, you were alone by the pond, dressed in your newly sewn red crêpe skirt and a coordinated red blouse that showed off your elegant collarbone and just a tasteful bit of your midriff. Last year, you came of age and started discovering the sublime beauty of womanhood that was revealed by the luxe curves and graceful lines of your body. With a golden belt tinkling on your waist, beaded earrings dangling in your ears, a colourful cotton scarf around your head, eyes emboldened with the darkest kohl, lips tinted with a fearless maroon, you sneaked shy glances at yourself in the clear pond.

The soft evening wind had rendered your already wild hair untamed and you were draped in the fragrance of the woody white oudh carrying sweet undertones of ylang ylang flowers and patchouli. You’d stolen a tiny bit of the expensive attar from your mother’s dresser drawer and dabbed it behind the top of your ear. You always wore perfume in that spot since it was oilier than the ear lobe, and oil tends to hold on to perfume better, helping it to diffuse for longer. That way, you’d carry the delectable essence of nature with you at least until the next sunset albeit at the price of a scolding from your stern but loving dya.

To your knowledge, you were the only one by the pond. Everyone was busy celebrating the union of one of the elders’ granddaughter with the blacksmith’s son. Dressed up this splendidly, it would be an utter waste if you didn’t sneak out for just a bit to croon and sway to Damian Draghici’s latest Trandafire after being spellbound by the performance of the lăutari at the wedding.

Halfway through your routine, you were alerted by a sudden ruffling of the leaves. As you turned your head in the direction of the sound, struggling to see in the fading daylight, a scrawny boy fell out of the magnolia tree and straight into the pond, tush first.

Mortified, you wanted to run to the Healer to ask for a little something that would obliviate your memory of this ordeal, or better yet mix that something in this rude intruder’s kafa the next morning. But the impact of him falling into the water created a huge splash, leaving you partially drenched. There’s no way you could go back to the feast looking like this. What on earth was this boy doing here while the entire clan was by the gazebo, celebrating!

Upon a closer look you realized that he, of all people, was in dire need of some flesh to his bones.

Dripping wet he staggered out of the pond, a pout on his lips and eyes downcast. Ignoring you, he started to walk towards the camp but you yelled after him, “Creep!”

The boy who couldn’t have been more than a year younger to you, was half a head shorter. He turned around and sneered, low-toned, “Creep?”

“How dare you...how dare you..watch me..” Perplexed and livid, you contemplated on the choice of your words.

Hands on hips, he sauntered towards you with his head tilted to the side, brows pinched together and a corner of his mouth raised in a smirk. The mood of his tone sent chills down your spine when he asked, “How dare I what?”

Fuelled with an unadulterated rage, you glared at him but he merely stood there, countenance casual, as if he’d just asked for directions to your grandfather’s weapons’ store.

His outfit was ragged and clearly bigger for his frame but it highlighted his broad chest and shoulders. The cuffs of his pants were tattered, loose threads hanging by their seams and the right elbow of his black lace up shirt was patched with a squarish cloth of a different fabric. If you were dressed anything like him, you would have skipped the wedding, too. The patch on his elbow had come apart as a consequence of the fall, revealing a fresh wound.

Sighing in defeat, you grabbed him by his left wrist and dragged him to the edge of the pond. To your utter surprise, he followed without any protest. You sat down and he sat next to you, albeit a little too close for your comfort. You slowly dipped your feet in the cool water and he, reluctantly, after folding his pants up to his knees, did the same.

Unfastening the drawstring on the little pouch fixed to your belt, you removed a clean gauze and a vial of white petroleum from it. Soaking the gauze in water, you took him by his right forearm but he flinched and retracted. “What are you doing?” He asked, eyes widened in surprise.

“Cleaning your wound.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?”

“Why would you do that? I have nothing to give you in return and I don’t like owing people.”

“..owing people? How old are you?”

“What has my age got to do with anything?”

Shaking your head, you gave him a small smile, “No, nothing. You don’t owe me, alright? I’m doing this to...to... improve my skills. If anything, I owe you. Clear?”

Baekhyun’s suspicious eyes eased into a soft smile and he nodded in agreement. His smile was radiant and his striking eyes were accentuated with smooth, bold strokes of glittering kohl which had smudged along the edges, resembling a beautifully chaotic thunderstorm. The dimming evening light cast a faint shadow of his eye lashes on the apples of his translucent cheeks. Amidst his pleasing facial features, it was his nose that stood out for you. You couldn’t quite tell what it was but you wanted a small bite of it.

He was undoubtedly the most handsome boy you had ever seen.

“Why aren’t you at the wedding?” You asked, carefully folding the sleeve of his shirt up to his upper arm and cleaning the blood off of his elbow with the wet gauze. As you were applying a generous layer of white petroleum over it, you felt his stiff posture gradually relax.

His gaze shifted from you and he stared into the distance and replied, “No reason.”

You simply nodded and decided against prodding him further. Taking the cotton scarf off of your head, you folded it into a makeshift bandage and swathed his elbow in it.

“Why aren’t you at the wedding?” He asked, fixing you with a steady gaze.

“Because I’m dressed way too exquisitely for a mere wedding.” You laughed.

“I’d have to agree.” He said in a small voice. “Do you come here often?”

“Would you like me to?”

“As a Healer isn’t it your duty to follow up on your patients?”

“I’m no Healer, but I’d like to see you again on the next full moon. To check up on the…. very deep gash on your elbow.”

Baekhyun’s lips curled upwards and his eyes crinkled. He nodded sagely in response.

“I have to go now”, you said, finding a part of your heart already missing the boy you never wanted anything to do with.

“I’ll leave first”, Baekhyun responded.

As you watched him go, magnolia flowers came floating in the air towards you in a straight line. They spun and wove around each other in a circle as if dancing to the beats of Trandafire. The brightest fireflies fluttered and joined in on the little gala of flowers, entwined like gemstones on a tiara, as the soiree adorned its rightful princess.

***

Thereafter came a seemingly endless string of secret rendezvous under the starry night skies. Baekhyun would braid your hair with flowers, sing you sweet love songs, bring you little gifts he’d find on his travels with Minseok and his father. They were mostly ingredients that you couldn’t find in the forest; you’d only describe their physical properties once and he’d commit them to memory, presenting you with only the best of the best of his finds.

Musings of the past were quick to pave the way for promises of a future. Even with its neck haltered and back against a wall, love was foolishly brave.

The more Baekhyun got involved with the money lender’s dealings, the lesser time he had for you which made every moment of yours with him even more precious. You held on to each other until the very last second as the agony of parting continued to amplify with the next meeting.

Years went by and one sweltering summer evening, you acquired a sealed weapon from a thirsty gadjo in exchange for an amphora full of fruit wine. The gadjo said it was a jamdhar, a rare push dagger, mainly intended for piercing armours. It was useless to him since the weapon had sealed itself and only an equal could unsheathe it.

But to you, the jamdhar meant freedom.

The dagger was rare, unreasonably powerful, mysterious and quite unlike any weapon in your grandfather’s munition. Merely fifteen inches long, it weighed about eleven pounds on the scale but it was quite heavy to be wielded by the average person. You could use the dagger to your advantage to evade inheriting the weapons’ trade and convince him to allow you to pursue your dream as an apothecary instead.

You later discovered that your plea had fallen upon deaf ears but you reckoned it was worth a try, anyway.

On Sara-la-Kali’s pilgrimage day, a feast was hosted by the babas of the clan. Among the many events held that evening, one event was held by your grandfather inviting men and women, young and old, to unsheathe the jamdhar.

Eyes outlined with an ebony galena and dark hair tousled, Baekhyun was dressed in black leather slacks and a loose midnight blue silk kurti which accentuated his broad and masculine frame. He wore an ivory tooth necklace and adorned the forward helix of his left ear with a gold ring. There was something different about him that day. He was unfaltering and undaunted. He was a force of nature.

He fixed the weapon with an unflinching gaze that sent shivers down your spine and proceeded towards it with one deliberate step at a time. He grabbed the sheathed jamdhar as if holding up a feather and drew the reticent dagger out of its cocoon with a sharp hiss.

The weapon gleamed in the moonlight. Its hilt was forged from pure carbon steel and it cut through the birchbark bench like cutting through floating sand. Vicious and double edged, its narrow blade was as clear as mirror glass. Yet, when Baekhyun glanced into it, he saw doleful eyes of strangers - men, women, and seldom children. These were reflections of the spirits of the lives claimed by the weapon.

The jamdhar was mighty and it made the man who possessed it invincible but it was bursting with resentment. Now that the weapon had found its true master, its energy only strengthened after each kill, rendering the master’s soul a shade weakened. Baekhyun would only continue to grow restless until he lost control of the weapon...and eventually of himself. You shuddered to think what might ultimately become of him if he didn’t discard the weapon soon enough.

It was after Sara-la-Kali’s pilgrimage day, the almighty Byun Baekhyun had become a stranger to you but your hearts were still tied together by the fragile thread of...love.

You wondered if you could still call it that.

It had been a year since.

A year of sleepless nights and frazzled days. You found him growing distant in your unyielding pursuit of asking him to relinquish the weapon. But the weapon had given him everything he couldn't afford to lose - fame, might, wealth, and most of all the respect that he yearned for growing up. Nobody dared to cross Byun Baekhyun. Nobody spoke ill of him. His mere presence would hush the busiest streets and people would bow down to him out of fear or admiration... or both.

They say time heals but it was now your arch nemesis. So you did what you knew best. You concocted brews that would help restore his strength only for it to be swallowed up again the next time the vicious blade had tasted blood.

You kept to yourself otherwise than when he needed you but the more you tried to fight shy of him, the more you found yourself in his company - observing the little things that pulled you deeper into your affections for him. The look in his eyes every time he saw fireflies dancing around your caravan, the erratic beating of his heart you felt against your palm when he kissed you for the last time...every time you noticed these things - your safekept heart threatened to leap out of it’s wrought iron cage only to land into his deceitful hands.

“You didn’t know ...they..they didn’t tell you?” Your trembling fingers grazed the fresh sprig of basil resting against Baekhyun’s sternum as you struggled to ground yourself by focusing on your breathing.

His palm met the side of your face in a gentle caress. “I didn’t. Believe me, I didn’t.” His voice was but a tremulous whisper in his futile endeavour to hold back tears.

“I was gone for one day.. I had some business up north.. and.. and everything.. everything’s changed! Just like that...everything’s changed!” You tried your best to lay hysteria off of your voice, but faltered. He wrapped his arms around you, his grip strengthening by the second, holding you closer, tighter as if his life depended on it. He then guided you to your bed and sat you down.

Whole body wracked by sobs, you squeezed your eyes shut. And then you saw her. Lys. The money lender’s youngest. She was a vision with hair as dark as the night rippling down to her waist, skin so beautiful as if covered in specks of gold. You envisioned a goddess enveloped in the strong, reliable arms of your beloved and your heart sank to your stomach.

As bewitching as she was, no man in his right mind would take her as his wife for she could hear the words they never dared to utter. And that was treacherous territory even for the bravest, the most virtuous of them all. Lys could crawl into the mind of anyone she laid a mere finger on and their deepest, darkest secrets would come unraveled to her.

She could hear them all. All but one - the only one you held dear.

As soon as they got a whiff of this, the elders arranged her marriage with Baekhyun showing utter disregard for his consent.

“Let’s run away together”, you managed feebly, dreading his obvious answer.

Devastated, he searched your eyes as a silent tear streamed down his cheek. He took your hands in his, tenderly pressed them to his lips and broke down in sobs.

“You do all their dirty work! Why are they so cruel to you? Why? You’re capable of so much more.” You argued in vain.

His dark eyes shot up to meet yours, stoic and resolute. “I’ve known only one thing all my life that is kill or be killed. You’re only saying this because you don’t know the real me. You’ve never seen me make a man’s head explode. You’ve only ever seen the things I let you see. I am a horrendous brute who was abandoned by his own parents...a monster who deserves no love.

My parents...my parents were simple-minded villagers who perceived anything out of the ordinary as black-hearted. After they found out what I was capable of, they started looking at me like I was different...like I was not human. They’d feed me leftovers, starve me for days, even try to beat the demon out of me. Nothing worked. I was still capable of doing the things that they considered wicked sorcery. At last they decided to sell me off to a merchant for a jagged piece of silver.

The caravan was on one of their travels to the east at the time. They stopped by a field outside my village. It was the elders who spotted me… an eight year old left to his own devices, drawing water out of a well only with the sheer force of his mind. It was Minseok’s father who saved me that day. He saved me from the unthinkable. I can’t do this to them… I can’t let them down. And the more I think about it, I know that I have nothing to offer you. I have mastered no trade, I possess no talent for the arts. I have nothing to give you. I believe you deserve better. You’ve always deserved better. Better than -” His voice trailed off.

“Show me your best blade.”

A glossy yet assertive female voice fell upon your ears while you sat polishing some of the antiquated procurements with alcohol. Your grandfather loved for his collection to be immaculate as if they were elegant relics or souvenirs and not lethal weapons, a single plunge in the right place from which could mean only one thing. Though gradually and unwittingly, you grew up to care for them as such too.

“What do you need it for?” You inquired, attention fixed on the task at hand.

The sound of the visitor’s footsteps grew closer but before you could turn around, firm hands rested upon your shoulders, squeezing hard. The visitor whispered in your ear, “One that is good enough for carving a man’s heart out of his chest”, and broke into a high pitched, maniacal laughter.

“Lys!” Scared out of your wits, you exclaimed as all sounds suddenly started to become more and more distant. Everything faded out of sight and you felt like a lamb to the slaughter under her terrorizing gaze. She continued to look at you intently and shot you a knowing smile, effectively binding your limbs in dread. Tossing a piece of silver in your direction, she walked away with a freshly polished navaja, a fighting knife.

The sheer idea of Lys being aware of your deepest secret rendered you physically and mentally incapacitated for the rest of the day. Anxiety took over, tormenting you with the worst possible consequences of your now unveiled thoughts.

One that is good enough for carving a man’s heart out of his chest.

What did she mean by that? Would Baekhyun have to bear the brunt of your feelings? Has he not suffered enough at the hands of this family by constantly living on the edge of terror and despair?

Would this cost him his life?

Sleep evaded you that night.

Wearing a weapon in the thick braid of yarn around your waist, you threw a shawl over your shoulders, gathered your skirts and headed towards Baekhyun’s caravan.

***

Just as you were about to reach for the door, it swung open and appeared before you two well built, dark haired men - one of them a head taller than the other. Your heart stopped the moment a pair of feline eyes bore into yours. Minseok closed the door behind him and you instinctively backpedalled, almost tumbling over a piece of rock until Yixing grabbed you by your arm to steady you.

"Bladerunner, what are you doing here?" Yixing asked genially but a glint of suspicion danced in his eyes.

Your mind made up too many excuses for you to actually be able to stick with one.

"Answer him, Bladerunner." Minseok commanded with a hardened expression.

Baekhyun trotted out of his caravan and answered good naturedly, "Bulibasha, I'd asked her to bring me a vial of chamomile essential oil. It helps with my muscle spasms."

"Why would you ask that of a Bladerunner, Baekhyun? Is she running an illicit trade?” Yixing inquired, tilting his head to the side, the dimpled smile on his face unflinching

“Bulibasha, I-” Trembling from head to toe, you bowed before him expressing repentance.

Minseok gave you a quick once over and asked Baekhyun, “Why is she dressed like a looter? Tell us what’s going on, Baekhyun.”

Baekhyun and you were both well aware that Minseok and Yixing weren’t men you could deceive. They would smell a lie from miles away and the truth would lead to a certain death...or worse, banishment from the clan.

Forget about him, dragă. He's no nurturer...

Your mother's voice boomed in your ears, seizing your throat and bringing tears to your eyes.

“No chicanaries, Baekhyun.” Yixing warning came out sounding more like an advice.

The moment you opened your mouth to confess in a way that would save Baekhyun's neck from the noose, he took two small strides and stood next to you. Eyes downcast, he held your ice cold hand in his and declared defiantly, “We’re in love with each other, Bulibasha.”

***

Yixing ordered to see Minseok, Baekhyun, and you in his private chamber at the break of dawn. To your utter surprise, he permitted Baekhyun to walk you back home provided he would be back within the quarter of an hour.

Your caravan was encircled with a faint golden light from the fireflies dancing around it. Baekhyun smiled weakly at the tragically beautiful sight and you committed the slow upward curl of his tender lips to memory.

Your heart was laden with guilt. When wrapped you in his arms, you whispered into his strong chest as your mind was clouded over with the familiar, comforting scent of sandalwood on his skin, “You shouldn’t have.”

“I shouldn’t have let it come to this. I should’ve stood up for us long ago. I hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive me.” He breathed softly and plucked the string akin to a noose from around his neck and slid it into the inside pocket of his coat.

“Whatever happens tomorrow”, he whispered as a silent tear made its way down his cheek, “remember that I will never leave your side. Rest assured, I will never let any harm come to you. I love you... I always have and I always will.”

Yixing’s bender tent was twice the size of your caravan. Dimly lit and carpeted, it exuded an intimidating aura. Draped in black, red, and gold panels it carried portraits of eminent members of the clan and the largest one, the one the clan leader himself stood before, was that of a black and gold dragon the mere sight of which was enough to bring the bravest of the men down to their knees. Minseok was seated next to Yixing against the backdrop of the portrait of his own father. His eyes were smoldering embers as he returned your meek obligatory smile with a scowl and stared you down as you and Baekhyun knelt before them. A sense of impending doom settled deep into your bones.

Sure, you felt dread and panic, but just this once you did not feel guilt. Apparently, neither did Baekhyun.

‘Being able to know you and love you has been the greatest gift of all’, was the only thing he’d said to you this morning.

“Bladerunner, did you not have prior knowledge of Baekhyun’s engagement with Minseok’s sister?” Expression neutral, Yixing was quick to do away with unnecessary introductions and jump to the heart of the matter.

When your eyes met his, you realized it would take him mere seconds to burn this room and everything along with it down to ashes. You wondered if he understood the language of the eyes because it was exactly what you implored him to do.

“Bulibasha, we -” Baekhyun spoke on your behalf but with a raised hand Yixing commanded him to stay quiet while holding your gaze steadily.

“I did, Bulibasha.” You declared with all the strength that you could muster, yet your voice was no louder than a whisper.

Lips stretched into a thin line, Yixing’s gaze mellowed as did his countenance when he asked, “Yet, you continued to pursue your relationship with him?”

You hung your head in response.

“Bulibasha -” Baekhyun stood up and pleaded fervently, “Bulibasha, please -”

“This is not something a woman of honour would do now, would she, Bladerunner?” Minseok spat in disgust.

“Minseok!” Baekhyun bellowed, hands balled into fists and seething with rage. You shot a glance at his reddened face, your heart hammering wildly in your chest. A part of you wanted to grab his hand to soothe him but a Minseok’s sharp glare of contempt changed your mind.

“Yes, Bulibasha.” You chose to answer Yixing in your effort to quiet things down.

“Bulibasha”, fiery gaze still boring into Minseok’s, Baekhyun said to Yixing, “I wish to secede from the clan.”

He turned to look at Yixing and pleaded with him, “If this isn’t something a woman of honour would do, then can I be called a man of honour? Should a man like me be allowed to serve the clan? I’ve toyed with not one but the hearts of two respectable young women. This is the only thing I ask of you, Yixing. If our friendship means anything to you, command me to leave and let the Bladerunner continue living with the clan as if none of this ever happened.”

“The Bladerunner has been found guilty of breaking ethical codes, Bulibasha”, Minseok reasoned, “the Zakono beseeches her expulsion instead and Baekhyun should be asked to keep the promise he made to my sister.”

Both Baekhyun and you stole a glance at each other acquiescing in how well-prepared Minseok was. Suddenly, you heard an unmistakable sharp, slicing sound of metal against metal. Acting upon instinct, you quickly rose and threw yourself at Baekhyun, pushing him down to the floor and out of range as a dagger came flying through from the entrance behind you. It flew past the top of your right ear, nicking your helix and lodging itself in the right eye pupil of the portrait in front of you. It was the portrait of Minseok’s father.

Under the startled glare of everyone in attendance, the knife thrower grinned proudly at her skills.

It was Lys.

It took you a moment to realize that had Baekhyun not been pushed out of the way, the blade would’ve gone piercing through his back straight into his heart. Her silken voice boomed ominously in your ears.

One that is good enough for carving a man’s heart out of his chest.

“Lys! You’ve ruined Father’s portrait!” Minseok lambasted his little sister.

Head cocked to the side, Lys sauntered over to her father’s portrait, brushing your arm with her fingernails as she passed you by. Full scarlet lips stretched into a gratified smile, lustrous skin and dark hair glimmering in the soft golden glow of the tent, she pulled the knife out in one graceful movement.

Chucking to herself, she came and stood before you. Placing a hand on your cheek she whispered, “You have beautiful skin, Bladerunner. I’d hate to ruin it.” She ran the blade of the dagger (which you recognized as navaja) along your jaw down to your clavicle. Unflinching, you met her eyes, letting her know that you’d long accepted your fate. She pressed the blade into the side of your neck, leaving you with a deep cut that was as long as your little finger. Blood began to run from it immediately but instead of pain you felt a sense of relief wash over you.

Baekhyun pulled you out of the way and stood like a barrier between you and Lys, glaring at her. His jaw went tight as he roughly grabbed her knife bearing arm, the firm grasp of his fingers was sure to leave her with striking red streaks along her wrist. Smiling to herself, Lys stretched out her other hand in front of Baekhyun. “Hand it over. It never looked good on you, anyway.”

He was quick to draw the basil necklace from the inside pocket of his coat and slap it in her palm. Next, he slowly drew the navaja out of her grasp, inviting a loud gasp from Minseok.

“Baekhyun! What have you done?” Yixing roared.

One prevalent belief still held by the clan was that taking a knife straight from someone’s hand meant that the relationship between the giver and the recipient had been severed. But the enormity of his own action was lost on Baekhyun.

He declared instead, “If the Bladerunner is to be punished, Bulibasha, I deserve a harsher punishment. I don’t care what the Zakono says. You can’t go on acting like she was alone in this!”

Minseok, who seemed to be at a loss for words, simply glared at Baekhyun’s out-of-character rebelliousness.

It was Lys who spoke first. Searching Baekhyun’s eyes, she said to nobody in particular, “He seeks her when he’s upset. And even when he’s not.” Turning to bow before Yixing, Lys stated, "Bulibasha, I would like to request a private audience."

You slept all day after the trial and woke up a little before noon the following morning.

It had felt like one mammoth nightmare - right from the day you laid your eyes on the sprig of basil around Baekhyun’s neck to yesterday when he smacked it in Lys’ hand - leaving you with yet another battle wound on your quest to rescue the man you loved. What transpired yesterday between Lys and Minseok was known only to Yixing, Baekhyun, and you and you were all under an oath to never speak of it again.

The jamdhar was now in Yixing’s custody and it was most likely to be buried deep into the earth after a final discussion with the Elders.

Work that day went by in a daze - all you wanted now was to spend every second of everyday with your beloved but you abandoned the idea till the dust on the matter had settled. You came home to a potted plant which stood pretty on the windowsill of your rustic brown caravan and looked picturesque against the pink bougainvillea creeper around it.

The plant was that of basil.

A basil plant on the window of a woman indicated that she was spoken for. Only one person could’ve put it there. The moment reached out for the plant, you felt a firm grip strengthen around your waist, pulling you closer. Baekhyun nuzzled the side of your neck, soft lips brushing along the edge of your clavicle. This time you didn’t fight this long overdue affection, instead revelled in it.

“Men and women shouldn’t be inappropriately intimate”, you breathed as you found yourself caged between the caravan and the length of Baekhyun’s muscular frame. His lips found yours, teeth playfully tugging at your lower lip before exploring every inch of your exposed skin crudely, eliciting soft moans from your parted lips. His hands found your hips, thumbs digging deep just over your hip bone. His lips teased the sensitive part on your neck as his fingers moved to unfasten the lace of your tan buckskin waistcoat. Threading your fingers through his hair, you pulled him closer evoking a throaty chuckle from him. Giving the sensitive spot the attention that it deserved, Baekhyun took you by the waist and in one swift movement you were lifted off your feet and scooped into his strong arms.

You buried your face into the crook of his neck as he pushed the door to your caravan open with his elbow. He gently laid you on the bed, one corner of his mouth raised in a smirk. Cocking his eyebrow, he allowed his eyes to mercilessly rove over your dishevelled state before slowly sliding into bed with you.

***

You were woken not by the everyday melody of songbirds but by a loud clang that rang mercilessly though your caravan.

“I just...wanted to make you some chao!” Pants hung dangerously low on his waist, a brazenly shirtless Baekhyun exclaimed, the boom of his voice echoing in your ears. Rubbing the sleep away from your eyes, you gave him a quick once over while your head had already begun to throb slightly thanks to the unwelcome blaring this early in the morning. Veiling your modesty with a fleece blanket, you floundered out of the comfort of the bed and meticulously studied the sorry state of your sacred space - your precious little kitchen.

Olive green eggshells were carelessly strewn across the counter. The contents in the saucepan that was perched atop the stove bubbled frenetically, threatening to overflow. Even in your sleep befuddled state you could make out that Baekhyun had carelessly thrown three deshelled pheasant eggs in boiling water which had now dissipated in a foamy mess.

“Baekhyun, what do you think this is?” You raised a green box the size of your palm embossed with a delicate gold flowery pattern, to his eye level.

“Sugar.”

The throbbing in your head increased and your eyes started brimming with tears.

“Where did you find this box, Baekhyun?” You questioned condescendingly.

“In your medicine crate?” He drew the sentence out in a question, taking a cautious step back.

But you took a threatening step in his direction and spoke in a deep, menacing voice. “You….you thought I’d keep sugar in my medicine crate?”

“There was no sugar ...no sugar in..in the cabinet!”

“You know I never use sugar in or for anything.” You maintained, as a tear rolled down your cheek.

“Why are you crying?” He asked, eyes fixed on the green box that was clutched possessively to your chest.

“Baekhyun did you use whatever’s in this box?”

“N-no?”

“You don’t seem so sure?”

“I did not! You’re scaring me now! What is in this box?”

“Tell me you didn’t use it, Baekhyun!”

“I did not use it! I promise! Now will you tell me? Please?”

Exhaling heavily, you answered, “My life’s work”, and hid the box in the farthest corner of the medicine crate.

“Explain”, he said with a yawn.

“Mithridatum...a poison antidote made from sixty-five ingredients. It’s an ancient recipe and it’s taken me fifteen years to research, scavenge for ingredients, and formulate.”

“Why do you keep it around so carelessly!”

“Carelessly?! It was in my medicine crate!”

“You know I need sugar in my chao, dragă.” He pouted.

You handed him a bottle from the kitchen cabinet, “Use this. It’s tapioca syrup.”

“Won’t taste the same but I’ll survive. Now let’s put Mister Mithridatum someplace safer, shall we?”

“Miss Mithridatum is safe enough in my medicine crate as long as you keep away from it. Thank you very much.”

Baekhyun beamed. You knew this smile a little too well so you checked to see if your fleece blanket was doing its job. But Baekhyun was nothing if not audacious. He advanced towards you as you retracted. Hands on hips, putting on a wide grin, he spoke in a voice laced with sugar and spice, “Nice outfit.”

You gathered the fabric up to your neck and bit on your lower lip to keep from blushing. “Thank you.” You said sweetly, feigning innocence.

“You’d look better without it.” He towered over you as you hit a dead end, with your back against the wall of your tiny living space.

You pushed him in the chest and he cried out like a wounded puppy. “Baekhyunnie, bring us some breakfast from my mother’s, will you? Don’t make it look like you spent the night with me, alright? Go now, I’m famished!”

“Of course, you are.” Baekhyun teased and his face scrunched up in a bright yet bashful smile.

“Don’t forget to put on a shirt!”

***

Your mother sent you a generous portion of pumpkin stew and fried cornbread which Baekhyun and you ate - no - inhaled in silence in the comfort of your caravan.

“I have something to say.” He looked at you solemnly and you felt your heart sink to your stomach. And it probably manifested in your eyes since he took your hands in his immediately and calmed you down, “Good...good something, dragă!”

“Baekhyunnie, you scared me.” Panic betrayed your voice and water started pooling in your eyes.

“We’re never to be parted again, dragă. I’ll follow you into the shower too if you like.” He nodded solemnly.

“I don’t think that will be necessary.” Frowning, you teasingly clarified.

“We’ll see about that later. Anyway, since Minseok has let me go as part of the settlement...you know whatever happened with...with -”

“Lys.”

“Yes. So, I have a lot of free time on hand. And your iubit doesn’t know much about anything but he knows weapons.” He looked at you intently and shot you a knowing smile.

You urged him to continue with an anxious nod.

“After we’re married, I could speak with dya and take over the weapons’ trade and you can… probably.. continue to make more Miss Mithridates? Or do nothing at all, I’ll be the sole breadwinner of our little, happy family.” He declared, flexing his muscles.

You held him by the wrist and put his hand back in his lap to reinforce the seriousness of the conversation and asked, “You would do that?”

“Unless you want me following you into the shower everyday...yes.”

“What if Yixing disapproves?”

“He can’t, dragă. My freedom...is...it’s part of the settlement.”

You leaned back and looked up into his face, blinking tears from your eyes. You held your finger up at him and mouthed, ‘One moment.’

Rummaging through his clothes you found what you were looking for and said to him excitedly, “I can’t believe you still have this!”

It was the scarf you’d tied around his elbow the day he injured himself while sneakily watching you sing and dance by the pond.

“Already snooping through my things? You wound me!” Baekhyun pulled you into his lap and whispered into your ear, “I take it with me wherever I go.”

You skillfully drew out a couple of loose threads from the scarf and reached out for a fresh sprig of basil from the plant on your windowsill. Weaving the sprig into the threads you studied his face with rosy eyes.

“Hurry up!” Said Baekhyun, tugging at your arm. As you were helping him wear the necklace with trembling fingers, his hands travelled the length of your back and his lips ghosted over yours, inhaling your unsteady breaths.

An disappointing knock on the door jolted you out of your celebration.

“Are we interrupting something?” A familiar voice reached your ears and you felt your face flame. Smoothing your hair and skirts you scrambled out of Baekhyun’s lap and bowed before the visitor, not daring to meet his eyes.

“Ah! Yixing! You should know better than to walk in on a couple unannounced!” Baekhyun grumbled and ran a hand through his hair, still seated with his legs wide apart. He took your hand in his and pulled you back into his lap.

“Bulibasha -”

Yixing merely chuckled at your embarrassment while looking around your uncharacteristically messy caravan for a place to sit. Pulling away from Baekhyun, you tidied the bed for him.

“Bulibasha, you said we.”

“I’m sorry?” Yixing gaped at you, confused.

“Are we interrupting -” You explained, feeling the heat rising up to your cheeks again.

“Oh, yes! Minseok, come on in!” Yixing bellowed.

“Are you sure Baekhyun’s completely clothed?” Came a high pitched voice from outside the caravan.

Yixing snorted and exclaimed, “Pretty much!”

Minseok cautiously stepped into your caravan and bowed politely.

“You too? Can’t I have some alone time with my beloved?” Baekhyun whined.

“It’s been less than a day and you’ve forgotten us already!” Minseok chided, taking a seat next to Yixing.

“Such is a woman’s love, Minseok. It beguiles the best of us! Anyway, we won’t keep you too long.” Yixing winked at Baekhyun and you bashfully retreated to make the guests some chao.

“Come and join us, Bladerunner, there’s no need for formalities.” Said Minseok curtly and you immediately obliged. There was nothing to serve the beverage with, anyway, apart from watery eggs in a pot.

You came and stood next to Baekhyun and rested a hand upon his shoulder. He immediately intertwined his fingers with yours and you felt relief surging through your veins.

“I’d like to apologise for the things I said to your woman, Baekhyun. It was unkind of me.” Minseok stated, his tone contrite.

“You were only looking out for your little sister. If I were in your place, I would’ve probably done the same.” Baekhyun replied in all earnesty.

Minseok and Baekhyun gave each other a meaningful nod before the cat-eyed man turned to you and said gently, “I truly wish you both a lifetime of happiness, and I’ll make sure to knock some manners into the boy before he’s permanently consigned to you.”

You glanced over to the kitchen and laughed, “That would be of great help!” before peering at Baekhyun who feigned offence at Minseok’s words.

“One last thing before we take your leave.” Said Yixing, slapping his thigh, “The Elders have suggested the full moon of the fourth month for the wedding. Bladerunner, I trust you will convey this to your dya?”

You gave Yixing a measured smile and nodded.

“And Baekhyun -”

Baekhyun pulled you into his lap and held you by the small of your back. Lovingly searching your eyes, he whispered, “I can’t wait.”

*********************************

A/N: This oneshot will be followed up with a spin-off for Lys which will explain what transpired in the “courtroom” but if you know me, you’ll know about my snail’s pace when it comes to updating. So I’ll be happy to give you a summary over DM if you’d like! :)

This was my first time attempting something in this genre/theme so I’d absolutely love to hear your thoughts on it.

Also, Piper, I’m sorry you got stuck with me :P

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