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#not getting to go horseback riding has been like a piece missing from me

indiee19 · 3 years

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Still Got Pictures Of Friends

Alex Turner x reader

Summary: Alex is looking through some pictures of you both and realizes that he has feelings for you.

warnings: none

word count: 1.7k

-Requested by @misspygmypie

A/n: Aaaaaand, my quarantine is officially over.

✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑ ✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

You knocked on the door with one hand, holding a box in the other. Alex had asked you to bring some pictures of you and him that you had. You agreed and gathered all the photos into a box. You and Alex had been friends for as long as you remembered. The both of you grew right beside one another, and had grown quite close over the years and had always lived within a twenty minute driving distance from each other. But that was all changing now that he was moving to the states full time.

He had previously lived part time in New York and part time in London, but now he was moving to Los Angeles and he planned on staying there. You couldn't deny the fact that you were sad and that you would miss him a lot, but it was his life and he could do whatever the hell he wanted to. A moment passed before Alex came and opened the door for you, greeting you with a hug, kissing you on the cheek, stepping to the side so that you could come inside.

There was boxes everywhere, stacked on one another. most of the furniture was missing, and as far as you could tell, the sofa was the only piece of furniture that was still in his house. "'ey, love. I see you've brought the pictures I asked you for," Alex said, closing the door and walking to the main room with the sofa and he sat down. You handed him the box. "Thanks, love."

"No problem, Al. Now is there anything else you want me to bring you before you ... leave?" you said, trying to hide the fact that you were going to miss him a lot. Alex took a moment to think about what you had asked him. "No, not anything that I can think of," he said. "Love, you know that you can sit down, right?" he asked, a laugh accompanying the end of the sentence.

"Oh, no, I have to go meet someone in just a few minutes," you said, inhaling deeply.

"With who, a hot date?" Alex laughed, a big smile forming on his face. "Well, uh, yeah, actually," you said quietly. As soon as you said that, Alex's big goofy smile disappeared. "Oh, well ... uh ... 'ope you have fun then," he said, looking down at the floor.

"Thanks, I will," you said. There was an awkward moment of silence and you just stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to do or what to say. "Well, I best get going. Don't want to be late for my 'hot date,'" you said, quoting what Alex said previously, the both of you chuckling slightly. "Okay, well, bye," Alex said, standing up and hugging you and he walked you to the door. You said you goodbyes again and then you left.

Alex sighed and shut the door and locked it, walking back over to the couch and he sat down, running his fingers through his fluffy hair that he didn't care to style today, not planning on going anywhere at all. Though you didn't know it, he would miss you quite a lot, more than he would miss anyone else in fact and he didn't know why the hell he felt like that.

He leaned back on the couch and glanced over at the box and decided to open it. The box was a light brown, almost taupe, and it had a red ribbon tied into a bow on it, holding it closed. He smiled and carefully pulled the string on the end of the bow, opening it carefully. When the bow was undone, he took off the ribbon completely, sitting it down beside him and he took the lid off of the box, throwing it to the side.

Though the box looked small, it held a lot of pictures and each picture brought quite a few memories. Alex set the box down in his lap and pulled out a few photos, looking at the one on the top. It was of you and him when you were both very little, five at the most. You both were dressed up like you had just gotten married, his arm around your shoulder and a bouquet in your hand. Alex smiled to himself, remembering what he could of that day.

"Alright, Alex, smile for the camera," Penny, Alex's mom said, holding the camera up to her eye and she took the picture.

"Aw, you two look so adorable," your mom said.

You turned towards Alex. "You hear that, Alex, we're cute," you smiled at him.

He chuckled slightly and placed it down beside him, looking at the next one. It was taken on a polaroid camera and on the white gap it said 'Them. The two lovebirds(that aren't actually lovebirds)on a horse with Matt and Cookie on another one.' Alex remembered that day quite fondly. You all were fifteen and had decided to go horseback riding. He also remembered that Matt had fallen off his horse and it was awfully funny.

The next one hit him hard. It was on another polaroid and it was off you and him at his first ever gig with the Monkeys at The Grapes in Sheffield. You were kissing his cheek while he was acting like he was playing his guitar. The gap at the bottom read '"No kissing me, love." Yes, Al, good luck kiss.' He laughed and couldn't believe that he would say that to you. He loved whenever you gave him a good luck kiss, he never knew how or why he grew into it, but he did and he didn't mind it whatsoever.

He kept on flipping through the pictures, more and more memories coming back to him - and a something else but he had no idea what it was. He was feeling something that he couldn't quite describe. It was as if it was on the tip of his tongue but he couldn't figure it out.

Then, after looking through a few more pictures, he found something that made him realize something. It was you and him at a club in 2006 with different dates. You were with your, at the time, boyfriend and Alex was with his girlfriend at the time, Johanna Bennett. You were kissing your boyfriend and Alex was hugging Johanna. He remembered being angry in that moment. Not because he didn't want to be there, but because you were kissing your boyfriend and he was jealous, and wished that you hadn't had done that. He washed that it was him that you were kissing.

Then he knew what he felt. He loved you and not as a friend but, like a romantic relationship type of way. He looked up and away from the photos. He was supposed to leave tomorrow and he knew that he wouldn't get to see you for quite some time after that and he of course didn't want to tell you that he loved you over the phone for many reasons, so he called you.

Your phone rang as you walked into your house - it was Alex. You quickly answered and held the phone up to your ear. "Hey, Al. What's up?" he said, putting your handbag down and you took off your shoes.

"Uh, um, nothing, love. I just wanted to ... to tell you something," Alex said, nervous and you could hear that in the tone of his voice.

"Umm, okay. What is it?" you replied, walking into your kitchen. "Is it about those old photos I brought you?" you added.

"Well, um, yeah, kind of," Alex said.

"Okay, well then, what is it?" you asked him. It took him a moment before he decided to speak and you thought that he had hung up on you for a second. "Well, I found a picture of you, me, Johanna and one of your exes at a club in 2006. And in the picture you were, um-" you cut Alex off before he could finish.

"Oh, Is that the one where me and my ex were kissing. Sorry, I didn't mean to put that one in there," you said. Alex inhaled and exhaled deeply. You actually hadn't meant to put that in there, had always intended on throwing it away actually, but could bring yourself to do so, the memory of that night with Alex too much and you never wanted to get rid of a picture from that night, the only picture from that night if I may add.

"No, it's not that. Well, sort of. But, no it's just that as I was looking at it, it reminded me of how, I don't know, how jealous I was that night. And it was because I realized then that ... that I had feelings for you, but never wanted to believe it until now," Alex explained.

You went silent for a moment, had never expected Alex to say something like that, not ever in a million years. "I-If you don't feel the same about me, then I-I'm sorry," Alex said, about to hang up, but you stopped him.

"No, Alex, I-I like you too," you said nervously. "I have for a while now, actually. And I didn't tell you because I honestly didn't want to know if the feeling flew both ways."

You couldn't see it but you knew that Alex had this big grin plastered all over his face and he chuckled. "I-I'm 'appy about that, love," he said. Another moment of silence fell upon you both until Alex broke it. "Can I ask you something?" Alex said. You hummed in response.

"Will you be my girlfriend?" he asked, crossing his fingers.

"A-Alex, of course I will," you said excitedly, practically jumping up and down with glee. Alex stood up from where he was sitting and jumped as well and you heard him say a quiet little 'yesss' and you laughed, smiling through the phone.

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wavesmp3 · 4 years

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[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

#the boyz scenarios #hyunjae scenarios #the boyz x reader #hyunjae x reader #lee jaehyun scenarios #lee jaehyun x reader #the boyz fanfic #the boyz imagines #the boyz fluff #the boyz angst #hyunjae imagines #hyunjae fanfic #hyunjae angst #hyunjae fluff #tbz scenarios #mine #the sea is yours to take

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mizelophsun11 · 3 years

Text

Mizeloph's Tale Chapter 11

Pairing - really diving into General Kirigan x OC Sun Summoner in this chapter, but it is also getting closer to when it will turn to Kaz Brekker x OC Sun Summoner

Summary - Two sides of the same coin are finally coming together but it will be up to them to see where things lead. Nature might know that these two balance each other out, but is it intended that they will end up together? Time will tell where their story will go.

Word Count - 1956

Anna was deep in a hazy dream when she was suddenly awoken by a knock at the door, she quickly sat up and felt her sketchbook fall into her lap. She rubbed her eyes then grabbed the book, closed it and put it back under her pillow where it normally stayed. Another knock at the door brought her attention back to whoever wanted Anna awake at a much earlier time than what had become normal.

“Come on in!” Anna said, wanting to make sure whoever was on the other side could hear her

Genya walked in with a few maids and a large beige bag in her arms “good morning sunshine”

Anna laughed a little “I don’t exactly look like sunshine right now..” she had cried herself to sleep last night, she was sure her eyes were a little bit puffy

Genya hung the bag up and walked over to the bed and looked at Anna “we have a bit of time before you are to go horseback riding with General Kirigan to fix you up” Genya had heard about what had happened and felt bad for Anna

“Wait, horseback riding with General Kirigan? Should I not be training? Seems like Ivan thinks I should be constantly training instead of goofing off with horses..” Anna was still feeling uneasy about what had happened at dinner

“It doesn’t hurt to have a little bit of fun, yes you could be training, but it is also healthy for you to be able to go out and be a girl for once and not a training machine” Genya smiled, she had seen Anna try and go beyond the Little Palace court yard and was stopped every time, hopefully this would do her some good “plus, I thought I could show you this” she brought a beige bag over that she unzipped to reveal a black kefta with gold swirls

Anna was blown away by the kefta, she ran her hands over the black, she loved it “well, if I wear this it will definitely make Zoya jealous” she laughed a little at the idea

“Didn’t you hear? She is off the palace grounds, he sent her away to reassess her priorities” Genya never really liked Zoya, she would always enjoy times when Zoya was sent to the front line so she would be out of the Little Palace

Anna nodded and continued to examine the new kefta “I know black is his color.. But I really want to wear it” Anna got up and changed

Genya began to work on Anna to fix her hair and anything else that was needed. Once she was done, she helped Anna put the black kefta on and she looked at herself in the mirror. This was a piece that she did not know she needed, but now that she had it would not want to go back. Anna had liked the blue kefta a lot, but the black one made her feel just a bit more comfortable. After all, she had always worn black in Ketterdam, this is what she knew and it felt like now she had a little piece of herself. Her and Genya walked out to the courtyard where General Kirigan was, he was amazed by seeing Anna wear the black kefta.

“You decided to wear it” He was captivated by her, it didn’t take much because to him she was the light wherever she went

Anna nodded “yeah, I really liked the blue, but wearing the black one just felt right” she walked up to him and gave him a kiss on the cheek “thank you for letting me wear your color” she pulled away a little

General Kirigan rested his hand on her cheek “it’s our color” he smiled down at her then pulled his hand away

She smiled back and looked over at the horses, she approached the white friesian horse she would be riding “oh he is beautiful”

General Kirigan watched her “I thought you would like him”

He got on his horse and she had help getting onto hers, she gathered up her reins and they galloped off. It was a good day for riding, it wasn’t too hot and was partly cloudy, a little bit of shade with the nice breeze. Anna felt free, she was finally able to be off the ground of the Little Palace, she never realized until now that it had become a bit suffocating. Now that she had this, maybe life at the Little Palace wouldn’t be stuck behind the same four walls every day. After about an hour of riding, General Kirigan showed Anna the pathway to a hidden spot away from everyone else where a small fountain was placed. When they got there they tied their horses to a tree and walked over, General Kirigan pulled out a few coins from his kefta and gave some to Anna. She walked up and tossed one of the coins into the water, she approached and looked at herself in the water.

General Kirigan walked up and stood behind her “what is it you see?”

Anna thought for a moment “I'm not sure.. I have been trying to find myself, but every time I think I do everything changes..”

“Well, maybe your search is finally over” he watched from behind seeing what she would do

She looked over her shoulder at him “I sure hope so”

He moved to standing next to her “how has your time been at the Little Palace so far? Are you adjusting well?”

“I think it’s good, combat training has been good, I met Baghra yesterday and that went well, I think. I feel like people normally have a hard time with Baghra, am I right?”

General Kirigan nodded “everyone has some sort of challenges with her, what about your room, is it satisfactory to you?”

“It’s amazing, I have never had my own room before” Anna had always shared a room with Alina and in Ketterdam she didn’t even have a roof over her head “I am glad Genya has been at my side, I feel like I can always talk to her about anything.. I just think right now I am trying to find out what this life here will be like. I want a home, nothing has really stuck until I have come here and been given the chance” she felt stupid talking about having a home, one that is forever, but she had never had one before and Anna really wanted one

“I understand Miss Mizeloph, more than I think you know.. When I was young, I would be on the move, never really finding a home until here. However, even then there were times when I would come to this fountain because I could not outrun the fact that I am the descendant of the most hated Grisha in all of Ravka. I questioned how I could feel welcomed in a home that I feel like did not want me.. So at this fountain I would make a wish and hope that maybe things would change”

Anna watched General Kirigan “but if you found a home here, maybe I can too” she stepped closer to him and took his hand into hers, they were each other's support “this fountain is beautiful by the way, and the carvings are well preserved, it tells the story of the Black Heretic, correct?” she let go of his hand and backed up a little to look more closely at the artwork

He turned around and looked at her, impressed “from these old photos you could tell it was his story?”

“My nose was stuck in a book the moment I arrived at the orphanage, and not for the right reasons..” she looked at the pictures, examining the story “Hundreds of years ago King Anastas hired the Black Heretic to be his military advisor. However, the Heretic became hungry for power and the King feared a coup so a bounty was put on his head, along with any Grisha that stood by him. He knew he would be outnumbered so he tried to create his own army with a forbidden science, he failed. Instead he created the Fold and was killed by it along with many others..” Anna looked to General Kirigan, trying to see if she had any errors in reciting what she had been taught

He listened to what she said “I have devoted my life to work on undoing the problems created by my forebears, but I realized that I am not the solution. I am just a reminder of the problem and someone always needs to be blamed”

Anna looked over at him “is that why you look at me sometimes like I am the solution? The legendary Sun Summoner has been found and all problems will be solved.. But if people decide that I am not the hope they wanted, I will become a Heretic that people paint in a dark story..”

“Anna Mizeloph, I promised I would keep you safe, and I will make sure that does not happen to you” He said, approach her and taking her hands into his “you and I are going to change the world”

She looked up to him and smiled “you didn’t call me Miss Mizeloph.. Like you normally do”

He didn’t even realize that “well, if I can call you Anna, then can you please call me Aleksander?”

Anna nodded, looking deep into his dark eyes, they were truly alone, since they had gotten to the Little Palace they had not been alone like this, far away from others. At that moment it was like they were the only two people in the world. Slowly they began to lean into each other and when Anna closed her eyes she could feel his lips meet hers. A kiss, their first kiss, it was a very sweet moment for them. They had found each other, two sides of the same coin, a balance that the other needed to feel whole. For both of them they felt like the kiss lasted forever, but really it was only a few seconds. Both pulled away and gazed into each other's eyes, they did not want to leave, but reality waited for no one.

“I.. should probably get you back to Baghra, she is not the biggest fan of tardiness” Aleksander said

Anna nodded “yeah”

They both didn’t move right away, standing there for a minute before going back to their horses and riding back to the Little Palace. However, they both mutually slowed down and wanted to continue to spend more time together. Both of them had blossoming feelings and now that they were out, they wanted to not be apart for too long. Once they finally got back they dismounted and went to each other.

“I hope we can do this again sometime” Anna said grabbing onto Aleksanders hand

Aleksander nodded “we will”

They watched their horses be put away by the stable hands then they walked towards Baghras place. On their way to Baghras, Aleksander brought Anna's hand up and kissed the top. As they got closer, Aleksander stopped, wanting their last interaction before Anna went to work on her summoning be private.

She got on her toes and gave him a quick kiss “thank you for such a wonderful morning Aleksander”

“You are welcome Anna, maybe we could do something together soon, just the two of us” he held her close then kissed her forehead

Anna smiled “I would love that”

General Kirigan and Anna parted, their hearts growing closer to one another. Two sides of the same coin were coming together now and nature could only tell what would happen next.

Author Note - Hi Everyone! Thank you for everyone who has been sticking around to read my story! I know that I have been a lot slower about updating and I am really trying to get back to some schedule which I hope will be soon. Soon I will be moving into an apartment and so after that things should hopefully slow down a bit in life to wrap everything up. Also, if anyone would like to leave a comment, message me or be added to the tag list please let me know!

Tag List - @rika90 @itsemy01 @hotleaf-juice @teatimeforusreaders @benbarnes-supremacy @graciefullygracie @aleksanderwh0r3 @klaudosh @herbatkazmilosica

#grisha fic #the grisha series #grishaverse #grisha netflix #shadow and bone #shadow and bone fanfiction #shadow and bone netflix #ben barnes #ben barnes x reader #general kirigan #general kirigan x reader #aleksander morozova #aleksander x reader #freddy carter #freddy carter x reader #kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader

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trainthief · 3 years

Note

how do u orient yourself walking off trail? do u bring a compass?

Unfortunately for you you’ve just asked a question I love talking about, so I’m going to give you a very detailed answer...

First thing’s first: there’s a lot of different types of terrain across the US, not to mention the world, and navigating across each of them is a bit different. I have the most experience navigating mountainous regions in large stretches of public land, so a lot of my instincts come from that, and even though the navigational skills I’ve developed are pretty translatable I’m still pretty far on my back foot if I’m set in an entirely new ecosystem. Using your home court advantage is the first step to navigation. For me, the best example of this is that there’s certain distinctive mountain peaks in my area that I know will be in a specific direction relative to me. In order to get those sorts of landmarks established in your mind, its helpful to have a memory device of some sort attached to them. For example, there’s a particularly dramatic looking peak with a distinctive cliffside that - as long as I can see its sheer drop - I know means I’m standing west of it. That in itself means the mountain is more or less due east, which I remember by associating that mountain with all my friends who live east of me out in Chicago and New York and boston and michigan and what else have you. Almost everything is east of me. That also means the west is at my back, which I remember by recalling how much I dislike Californians. From there North and South are pretty obvious.

Anyway, regarding compasses: they’re a great navigational tool, especially when they’re paired with a topo map. Even so, the use of both isn’t necessarily as intuitive as you might think, and although I was taught wilderness survival and avalanche preparedness for a week every year in grade school I have to imagine that’s not the norm most places. As far as compasses go, the first piece of advice I’d give is not to trust one that’s attached to anything else. The compass on a whistle or the zipper of your jacket or even the one on your phone are going to be hardly better than a magnetized needle in a bowl of water, since they’ll only give you a shaky sense of magnetic north - which is not in itself even the same thing as true north. That said, an expensive compass isn’t really necessary either. A basic suunto compass is really all you need, because it’ll allow you to set the declination (basically, the distance in degrees between magnetic north and true north in the area where you are) which can almost always be found on your topographic map. Following magnetic north rather than true north can get you hundreds of yards off of your course for every mile you walk. Regarding topographic maps, they’re hugely helpful, but they’re also not hyper-accurate. Lots of smaller landmarks will be left off, and larger landmarks are prone to change even within the year or two since the map was last printed. Avalanches or glacier movements can throw off your interpretation of a region pretty significantly. Still, finding larger landmarks such as lakes and ridges and making sure they appear where you expect them to is enormously helpful. A topographic map is also going to provide you with a general sense of the flow of the land, most importantly in terms of which general direction the ridges you are navigating seem to travel. Adding your own deductive reasoning helps flesh out any sense of place you might be missing. If you come across a stream that isn’t marked, you can still infer that it likely comes from snow runoff from the mountain it is leading away from, and is traveling toward a larger body of water that is likely marked on your map. If you can find the peak and the lake, you then know roughly where you are. If you want to pinpoint your location more precisely, you can scan around for a third landmark, find it on your map, and triangulate your position using your compass. I’d also recommend marking points of interest on your map. I often do that with locations that seem popular with animals, just because that’s of interest to me, but more concrete locations are much smarter. I also find that I tend to remember things best if I say them aloud, so often as I walk past a point of interest I might say to myself “giant-ass boulder next to a lightning-struck tree, and I’m heading north of them”.

Technology is also a good idea. I’ve been meaning to buy a GPS unit, probably a Garmin, but I haven’t wanted to drop the money yet. I do use an app called onX Hunt, because it has really detailed coverage of topography and private land, so I can make sure I’m heading into public areas and not the buffer forest to somebody’s ranch (especially since people around here really love their castle doctrine). Generally, though, I wouldn’t recommend relying on your phone.

If worst comes to worst, there’s a few fail safes you can always count on. Following a river downstream is a good bet, as is following the slope of the land downhill. There tends to be more civilization in valleys than on top of mountains. The North Star is a well-known and reliable one, as is the sun rising in the east and setting in the west (although it’s important to remember that with the exception of the equinoxes it’s never EXACTLY due east or west). If you see a large flock of geese or ducks flying above you you can know that their v shape points toward south in the fall and north in the spring. The idea that moss grows on any particular side of a tree is a fake one, don’t bother with it. To that point: never do anything you’ve seen Bear Grylls do. The guy’s a reality star, and his entire job is to overdramaticize and sensationalize the situations he goes into. Usually the solutions he comes up with are the absolute last resort anyone with any wilderness sense would ever attempt, and there’s a dozen much safer and less stupid things you can try first. I won’t pretend there’s no risk at all. Especially in areas like the intermountain west and Alaska - where there’s huge stretches of public backcountry land that isn’t groomed and maintained in the way that your typical hiking trails are, but is still there for public recreational use - there are plenty of ways to get yourself hurt. I know a handful of people who have died or been seriously injured out there, and once a month or so I’ll hear the search and rescue helicopters flying around the mountain where I live. But it’s also worth considering that going into the backcountry is my state’s favorite pastime, whether it’s for skiing or hiking or snowshoeing or snowmobiling or horseback riding or hunting or fishing or camping or rock climbing or mountaineering or 100 other possibilities. It can be dangerous out there, but the source of that danger is largely just that the safety net of society has been removed from you. You’re far and away more likely to burn yourself on your own campfire because you weren’t being smart than you are to be attacked by a mountain lion. And even if you get yourself in a sticky situation, you’ve got plenty of opportunities to get yourself out of it. One of my uncles in particular has had to be picked up by search and rescue a handful of times, because he likes wandering off trail but neglects to pay much attention to the direction he’s doing it. He’s still alive, healthy, and perfectly happy.

Anyway, as for me personally, my favorite reason to go off trail is to follow animal tracks (and to just generally get miles away from the nearest human being). The winter is a great time to do it, because the presence and freshness of the tracks is often extremely obvious. On a good day, it’s easy to head in and follow something for miles, only to turn around and backtrack your own trail to your car. Still, I wouldn’t let that be your one and only source of navigation, since a sudden winter storm or an unexpected amount of melt could screw the whole thing over.

That’s much more answer than you likely expected or wanted, but hope at least some of it was helpful to you! Have a good one.

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janetbrown711 · 3 years

Text

My headcanons about Sir William the Good

This is like my Angelina II post, so be sure to check that one out too

Oh! And be sure to check out this fic, because it talks about a few of these situations ^^

As always, if you have any questions/requests about them, my ask box is always open :)

Buckle up, because I have a lot of thoughts

Early life:

His mother died not long after he was born, so he has no memory of her

His father’s name was Alan, and he loved William dearly, and William loved him too

His best friend growing up was Heloise Nerz (more better known as Hello Nurse)

They ran around Acme Falls like little rascals and were mostly adored by the town

She was always a lot smarter than him though, so whenever they got into trouble she’d have to usually get them out of it, though William was always very apologetic and felt very guilty when he did something wrong

Despite what the townspeople whispered and joked about, William never had a crush on her and vice versa. They were both just really good friends

His father got sick of a mysterious illness when he was eight, and died in less than a year, and William missed him terribly

He wandered around Acme Falls for jobs, and while most folks were willing to give him work, he felt unfulfilled and tried to search for the perfect job

No less than a year of searching, a royal knight came into town looking for a squire, and William jumped at the opportunity

He was young for a squire (he wasn’t even 10 yet) but the good natured knight liked his spark and took him under his wing.

It was hard for William to leave Acme, but he promised to write to the town when he could, and so he left.

For the first few years he did more of chores than actual knight training- but William never complained. He looked up to the knight quite a lot, to the point where he was basically a second father figure

However, once he turned 12, the real training began, and it was intense.

William never really complained though, knowing what he had signed up for

He was best at sword fighting, though he was a terrible equestrian

When he was 15, he was taken to the royal palace for further knighthood training, and he met Angelina on his first day by making an utter fool of himself (tripping over a bucket of water)

To his surprise, this didn’t push Angelina away, and William fell in love instantly.

Often, she’d watch him during his horseback riding lessons and would laugh when he screwed up and cheer for him when he succeeded, which made him work harder and harder for her.

Sometimes they even rode together, which was fun (though she beat him every time, but William was a very good sport about it- which Angelina greatly appreciated)

However, their favorite activity to do was to stroll and plant in the garden. Often the two were busy with their lessons, but they’d try their darnedest to squeeze in the time together

The queen, Angelina the First, strongly disapproved of him, but since William hadn’t really done anything wrong, he couldn’t find good reason to send him away, so he remained at the castle.

William knew how much Angelina hated the suitors and would always try to get the next day off to spend it with her to help her feel better

When he saw the bruise Salazar had left on Angelina he nearly cried out of empathy for her and her situation, and swore that he would never let anything like that happen to her ever again

(That was when Angelina realized she was in love with him too)

They began their secret relationship when he was 19 and she was 18.

He proposed two years later, right before gaining his knighthood, and Angelina didn’t hesitate to say yes

William was prepared to stay engaged as long as it took, but luckily for them, Queen Angelina the First died a month after he proposed and they were married shortly thereafter.

Yakko:

William had always wanted to have children, as he was an only child and loved the idea of raising and having children, and when Angelina told him she was pregnant he was over the moon

However, he was a bit nervous when he realized that his father died when he was eight, and he had few memories of how he was raised, so he studied and read up on every parenting book he could find and studied like a madman before Yakko was born

William fell in love with Yakko instantly

He was really nervous to hold him though, as he was terrified he’d drop him (which was odd, because being a knight made him very strong)

However, he did relax and eventually he was able to hold him without being nervous, and it soon became his favorite thing

He loved to read bedtime stories to Yakko when Angelina was too exhausted to sing a lullaby, and Yakko seemed to really like them, especially as he got older

Angelina said he got his talkativeness from William, and William couldn’t help but agree, he did have a tendency to ramble (especially when he was nervous)

He wanted Yakko to learn how to horseback ride, but Angelina forced him to promise to wait until he was at least eight because of how dangerous it could be

However, she didn’t stop him from getting Yakko a wooden sword, and William proceeded to try and teach him to sword fight, though it clearly wasn’t his forte. Still, Yakko seemed to have fun, and liked to act out the bedtime stories of William’s knighthood to Angelina, who also seemed to find it adorable.

Wakko:

William had been utterly delighted to find out that Angelina was pregnant again, loving the idea of a big happy family, which Angelina liked too, as she was also an only child

Yakko was curious about what being an older brother would be like, so this time both Yakko and William were studying to prepare themselves

When Wakko wasn’t born crying or breathing, William nearly had a heart attack and died right there

However, the doctor quickly fixed it, and he cried tears of relief and joy

William noticed Wakko had a lot of similar features to his own father, and so made his middle name Alan

It was really hard to get Angelina to let go of Wakko to let him get a chance to hold him (not that he blamed her in the slightest) so he had to wait until she fell asleep to hold him

Again, he fell in love instantly

He was really nervous whenever Wakko was out of his sight, but recognizing that someone had to be the sane one (as Angelina was having terrible separation anxiety) he stayed strong and reminded Angelina that they had done this before and that it was gonna be okay

Helping her helped him a lot, and soon enough their worries were down to a normal level

Wakko was a lot more energetic and wild than Yakko, which reminded William of himself when he was younger, running around Acme Falls.

William often had to chase Wakko around countless halls of the castle because of how much he loved to run and toddle around

Wakko had less patience for William’s stories- often interrupting with questions or little comments, much to Yakko’s annoyance. William didn’t mind though, as that was when Wakko was the most talkative with him

Dot:

Again, William was ecstatic upon hearing Angelina was pregnant again

However, his confidence and optimism wavered a bit when King Salazar started causing problems on purpose

He was determined to protect Angelina from him though, intent on keeping the promise he made as a teen

He was determined to not let Angelina worry herself to death though, remaining optimistic about having a little girl (hopefully) and how great it would be when they could all relax with the new baby after this Salazar nonsense ended

He often had to watch the boys as Angelina went to diplomatic meetings and so when he found out that he had actually gone into labor during one and continued to the end anyway he was both in awe and amazement at how strong Angelina was (though he also did have a fairly short lived freak out about how dumb of an idea that was)

When Dot was eventually born though, they were both so tired that they both cried, especially because of how cute she was

William had been in love with the idea of giving her Angelina’s name, and was happy she agreed to it, as he never thought of her name as her mother’s name

He did also like the name Dot (Lena’s suggestion), so he suggested that they call her that for short, and Angelina agreed.

However, he did panic momentarily as he realized he had no idea how to raise a girl, until Angelina said “just raise her like any other kid- being a girl hardly makes a difference” and William realized he was being stupid, and relaxed.

Since she was born in the spring around the time all the flowers in the gardens went in bloom, William loved to dress her in flower patterned clothes and hair pieces.

He loved dressing her up (perhaps even more than Angelina did)

He also helped Wakko with advice on what to do as a big brother, and watched him as he watched Dot, finding his curiosity and newfound tameness around her adorable and admirable.

However, as tensions were rising and Angelina being too exhausted and busy to go to meeting, it soon became William’s job to attend the meetings. William decided it was a good idea to bring Yakko along to help prepare him for when he’d be king, but he realized his mistake when he noticed how nervous he looked as they started discussing war. William promised he wouldn’t let that happen though, which helped Yakko to relax.

However, Salazar and his army invaded the castle that night, and William wished that he just had more time with his kids, having never wanted them to be orphans like he was, but unfortunately he had no say in the matter and he was killed

Misc. (bc that’s a depressing end)

Hello Nurse was the “best man” at his and Angelina’s wedding

He didn’t realize Lena was only a nickname special people got to call her until after they were married, and he said “it was his greatest honor” when she pointed it out.

“William, we’re married” “You could’ve married anyone you wanted, but you let me call you Lena”

He’s just... a big ol’ softie. A big teddy bear. He loves cuddling, hugs, crying, and just- he’s impossible to hate

However, like a bear, he gets very protective of his family, and died honorably while trying to protect them

The knight who practically raised him died before Yakko was born, and William held a huge funeral in his honor

He nearly cried when Yakko told him that his favorite story was the story of how he and Angelina met

He taught Yakko how to read and do math, as well as how to sword fight (though it was a slow process since he was only 8 when he died and all)

He grew a mustache bc he thought it made him look more like a king

He loved to just sit and think about all of his and and Angelina’s traits that he could see in the boys (like his optimism in Wakko, Lena’s love of reading and learning in Yakko, etc.)

He loved his children and Angelina with everything he had in him

#animaniacs #sir william the good #william warner #wakko's wish #queen angelina warner #animaniacs fics #long post #queen angelina II #holy shit i'm soft for them-#i ship it so hard #I know I basically invented them but asdklfajsd;a #yeah #asks and requests are always open!

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randomingoftherandomness · 3 years

Note

Good morning from Canada. Could you please do the continuation of Emperor!ZZS and Empress!WKX? Maybe when WKX is in labor for their 2nd baby and ZZS was in the middle of the court. And some family fluff after. Thanks 😊

Good morning from my neck of the woods! (ﾉ´ヮ´)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

Hehe... Hope you like this!

I wrote an AO3 exclusive piece for this AU (archive locked; rated M)

Court discussions are lively at best, horrifically dull at worst. Watching his Ministers argue over foreign tributes and the opening of trade routes in the South is simultaneously riveting and frustrating because Zishu knows the South, and knows that this would be better dealt with in a simple letter to their allies in Nanjiang.

Propping his cheek on his fist, he mentally composes that letter to Wu Xi and Beiyuan, letting his mind trail off on the gifts he should prepare for them and his godson, Lu Ta. Sighing in his heart, he wishes he had the leisure to make a trip out to see his friends. Maybe Wu Xi with his knowledge of--

Eunuch Tong contorts himself into an urgent bend of his spine to the corner of his eyes. The normally composed man has an almost pinched press to the corners of his lips and the way his sleeves tremble would have been enough to alert Zishu that this was no small matter that he was bringing to his attention, but the whole Palace has been on pins and needles for the last two days ever since the Imperial Physicians put the Empress on bedrest.

Zishu had been loathed to leave his Lao Wen's side, but this was an important meeting he could not miss.

And now he had something else that he must attend to.

"Your Majesty."

"Is it the Empress?" Zishu asks, the words measured and even as they leave his lips, betraying none of the thundering in his chest.

"Answer Your Majesty, the Imperial Physicians have been called and a sedan has been sent to fetch the Crown Prince from his studies. One is waiting outside for you."

Zishu nods, standing quickly, before sitting back down, and then standing again. Throwing a look to his stunned Ministers, he clears his throat and takes off with quick steps. The sound of Eunuch Tong's clear voice declaring his departure dogs his swift movements out into the sunlight, eyeing up the stately sedan and turning to one of the guards on horseback.

"Lend me your horse."

"Your Majesty!" The nearest senior eunuch calls out only for Eunuch Tong to clucks his tongue and wave him back.

The guard climbs off his saddle and holds out the makes to help him up, only for Zishu to bypass the half lifted hand and climb up in an elegant swing of his body. He may not have seen the looks on his attendant's eyes but in that moment, they were clearly reminded about how this Emperor had come to the throne.

Many of them who serve him, had served his brother before him, and their father before them. They had been here when the coup had overthrown the previous Emperor; had been here to attend to the last rites of the previous Emperor and been here when this Emperor mounted the heads of the rebels on the city walls himself.

On one part, their hearts twist with hope that this era of governance would be a strong and stable one, though on the other, they sigh, thinking that this was a man who would have been far happier on the frontiers and defending the borders of their country.

But Zishu did not see any of this.

He rides quickly towards his Empress, mind focused only on getting to his side. Zishu knows that Lao Wen has never regretted carrying their children; has never complained about the aches, the exhaustion, the stress of having to deal with enterprising individuals who think that a moment of beauty will turn the head of the most powerful man in the land away from his Empress.

As Emperor he can do so much without overstepping his bounds and knowing his Lao Wen, somethings are things he has to do for himself.

"Royal Father!"

Zishu pulls the reins of his steed, turning in time to see his son's bright eyes looking up at him from his sedan. He must have ridden fast enough to catch up to their Crown Prince's route.

"Royal Father..." Their son has never seen either one of his parents in battle and if Zishu has anything to say about it, he never will. This Crown Prince will grow up well, loved, and be taught well to be a good ruler to their people. Zishu will make sure of it.

Smiling slightly at the childish awe and wonder of his son, he nudges his horse to him, holding out a hand. "Come on. This way is faster."

"Yes, Royal Father!" Their Crown Prince says eagerly, letting himself be pulled onto Zishu's front

Zishu settles him, ignoring the way his sons' attendants all cry out in alarm when he settles his son in place. “Hold on tightly to my sleeves, like so. Yes. I won’t drop you, alright? Ready?”

His son tilts his head back, smiling from ear to ear. “Mn!”

Grinning down at his bright, cherubic face, he tightens his arm around him. “Let’s go!”

#wenzhou #word of honor #wen kexing #zhou zishu #gab writes stuff #i swear i didn't mean for this to be a series of interconnected fics wuwuwuwu #i'm ending this here because i think it is a right place to stop for now #emperor & empress au

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cacti-are-like-flamingos · 3 years

Text

The Golden Hand

° Assassin’s Creed Odyssey Imagine °

Chapter 4

Fem! Reader

Central Masterlist | The Golden Hand

You gazed upon the piece of parchment as though it had told you the ugliest truth. Your brows furrowed and wrinkled as your eyes displayed the world’s most intense confusion.

Just what the hell did Alexios write?!

Allow me to explain, you had woken just a few minutes ago. Your legs sore from yesterday’s horseback riding and your eyes swollen from a night’s crying session. It was only after you had searched all over the house and near fields that you came to the conclusion that your only guide had gone off, most likely either in search of new employment or finishing one.

You sighed, “Most likely it just says he’ll be back by ---what? Sundown? Yeah, sounds reasonable enough.” You spoke to no one but yourself.

Situating yourself back onto your bed, you allowed yourself to relax. Leaning your back onto the cold stone wall with your eyes closed, you took a deep breath in. The memories of the day before still fresh in your mind. You could still hear their screams...the pain in that little girl’s voice as she cried out for her parents to come and save her.

“Argh!” You yelled, dragging your hand down your face as you forced yourself to push down the knot that was quickly forming at the back of your throat.

“Alexios?” You jumped at the sound of a new voice. Peeking through the spaces of your fingers, you caught sight of a familiar young girl standing by the doorway. A small smile playing on her lips as she entered, “Ah! You are the pretty lady from before! Uhh...” You felt the ends of your lip contort upwards into a smile of your own upon hearing the innocent compliment. You quickly added, “(Y/n).”

“Yes (Y/n) --- wait, you have such a strange name. Are you not from here?” You chuckled, “No, no I am not. And you are Phoibe.” She nodded, “Then where are you from?” Thinking your answer over, you decided that being vague was your best friend, “I am from a land very far away. Now, you are looking for Alexios, no?” Phoibe nodded her head once more, “Yes, have you seen him?” Shifting over so that you sat at the very edge of the bed, you shook your head. A small frown hanging low on your lips, “No, but he did leave this. Are you able to read it?” You grabbed the parchment before handing it over to the brunette. Skimming over it, Phoibe quickly responded with, “Sorry but I can’t read. But it most likely says that he’ll be back soon.”

“Oh. Well, okay then.” A silence bloomed between the two of you. It was somewhat of an awkward sort considering that you had just quite actually met if one were to exclude the events of the day before. It was then that the young child called for your attention once more.

“You are not familiar with Kephallonia, right?” She asked. An excited look in her eyes. Narrowing your own slightly, you slowly nodded your head, “No I am not...why?” The child grinned.

“Would you like to go on an adventure with me?”

...

“Malakas!” Exclaimed the seasoned warrior in annoyance. The palm of his hand slapping the skin of his forehead as he sighed in exasperation. Arching a single brow, Barnabas leaned closer to his newfound friend and companion. His eyes posing the question his mouth offered to ask.

“What seems to be the matter, Alexios?” The older male inquired.

Sighing once more, the Spartan gazed back upon him, “I have committed the stupidest mistake. I shall be traveling with another and so I had left for them a message on a piece of parchment; however, it has just dawned on me that they most likely do not know how to read the language. What an idiot I am!” Barnabas roared in laughter. His calloused hands coming to grip the cloth on his stomach as he desperately tried to compose himself. All which earned him a mighty stern glare from Alexios himself.

“Do not laugh at me!” The man cried before soon he, too, began to chuckle at his own stupidity.

“Ah, Alexios, I am enjoying this friendship more than I thought I would; however, do tell me of this companion of yours,” Barnabas said, continuing to walk along the path to Sami’s Harbor where the Adrestia was docked.

“There is not much to tell. I had only met them two nights ago.” His words earned him a reaction from the other, “Two nights ago and you decide to sail with them?” “I met you not a minute ago and I am sailing with you.” Alexios retorted, a smirk tugging at his lips.

Barnabas chuckled, “Quite true. Why are you to sail with them, may I ask?” This question, however, was briefly answered with a moment of silence as Alexios pondered how to word his actual answer. Perhaps it was better to avoid the truth for now and only speak partly of it.

“She saved my life, and in return, she asks for me to take her home,” Alexios answered at last.

“Oh? A woman?” Alexios nodded, “Yes. I owe her my life. Although, I know not of the ways to get her home.” The silver-haired probed, “And why’s that?”

Licking his lips, the misthios gazed upon the nearing vessel that was to be his ship, “Let’s just say, she is quite far from home.”

...

You never would have thought that when Phoibe mentioned an adventure, that the adventure would mean walking all across the main island. Like damn, your feet really hurt. It’s genuinely unbelievable how the people walk miles in literal sandals. Panting heavily, you watched with tired eyes as Phoibe continued to move forth with grand energy.

“Hurry (Y/n)! I have to finish this adventure so that Markos can give me another!” The scrawny little girl exclaimed, climbing over some well-sized boulders not too far from where you had taken a rest stop.

“If...you’d had informed me that this...adventure was actually just you running...errands---ugh, how I miss my bed.” You cried.

Rolling her eyes, Phoibe jumped off from the large rock and instead jumped onto your figure. Groaning loudly as your body stumbling backward with the additional sudden weight, “Phoibe...!” In the spur of a moment, she turned around and began to run down one of the forks in the path, yelling, “I’ll be back!”

You went to chase after her, shouting out her name in protest for her to come back, but unfortunately, her small body allowed her to be faster. And so, soon enough, her figure fell out of sight and you were, once again, left alone and to your own devices.

How swell.

Taking a moment to calm down the painful drumming of your heart, you groaned as you shifted your weight to your other foot. The feeling of pins and needles digging into the flesh of your foot being too great for you. You seriously needed to rest somewhere. And it had to be NOW.

Quickly moving towards the boulders, you threw yourself onto the one closest to your height, a sigh of pure instant relief escaping past your lips. You stayed there for a moment, slowing down your breathing to a proper pace. You breathed the fresh sea air into the depths of your diaphragm, allowing our blood to enrich itself with precious oxygen before breathing out the remainder. You could feel yourself instantly loosen up. The tension in your shoulder’s soon disappearing away as if they had never been there in the first place.

It was in this brief moment of peace that your thoughts became muddied with worry and conflict. Yesterday plagued your mind unlike any other memory you stored. It was strange, you know? The fact that you tore yourself apart at the remembrance of how you sent a family to their deaths whilst you bore almost no remorse for the man you helped kill upon your arrival. Was it because you did it in an effort to save someone? Is that why you felt nothing about it? But then again, you didn’t really send that family to their deaths...wait, but by doing nothing, you did.

Is this really the right time to question your mor-

“Oh my, I must say that such a horrid expression is quite unbefitting of such a beauty much like yourself my dear.” You snapped your gaze up to the face of man you were unfamiliar with. There stood man, much older than you, wearing a look of curious upon his aged features. A gentle smirk sitting about his shaven face as his eyes sparkled with the faintest glint of intrigue. You had to admit, something about him didn’t sit quite as well as you had hoped with you. In your eyes, he was much like a snake. Hidden in the grass and ready to bite.

You smiled bashfully, “Thank you...?” “Elpenor. I hope you do not mind the sudden intrude, it’s just that to see such a lovely creature as yourself with a look so conflicted as that was quite troubling to me. People who have been blessed by the goddess Aphrodite should always bear a fruitful smile.”

...did this motherfucker really just tell you that you would look better with a smile but just in a more eloquent and polite manner?

Huh.

You huffed at his words, “I wouldn’t go that far but, nonetheless, I thank you for your kind words Elpenor.” He smiled at your humbleness.

“Might I intrude some more and ask for your name?” You smiled, “I don’t see the harm, my name is (Y/n).” You introduced, presenting your hand to shake his own but only to have the male guide the appendage to his lips, which he used to lay a gentle kiss upon the skin of your hand.

Oh. Okay. Right.

H u h.

“It is a pleasure to have met such divinity,” You could not help the flushing of your cheeks as he continued to compliment you. Not when he spoke them with such apparent truth. His voice honeyed as to deflect any doubt of his true nature, you noted. He continued, “Judging by the weariness in your gaze, I am held to believe that you are quite tired from your travels. Perhaps you would like to accompany me...?” He gestured over to behind him. It was then that you noticed the small carriage that stood not too far, the coachmen looking away from the two of you.

“Oh. Wow. I did not see that...how...” Chuckling amusedly at your surprised expression, he repeated, “How will you answer?”

Now I know your mother always told you don’t talk to strangers and most importantly don’t get in the car with strangers but you could say the situation was rather different right now.

Thinking back to your blistering feet, you made your decision instantly. Grabbing his hand, he smiled joyously as he led you to the entrance of the wooden carriage, helping you up the steps before joining you. He sat across from you, the beautiful purple fabric he wore bundling into his lap.

And as the carriage began to move you realized something.

Where the actual fuck am I going?

...

(A/N): Got a sudden spur of inspiration lol.

Hope you enjoyed!

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my-simp-land · 3 years

Text

Broke Bitch Derby

I started this months ago and finally finished it today. It's okay. Fluffy but funny. Solid fic 1489 words :))

Life sucks with beginner’s luck. You go on a few missions, everything is a walk in the walk, you think you’ve mastered missions, wow everything is amazing, the boom. Broken leg.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the broke bitch herself. I never thought it would catch up to you.” Bucky Barnes was something else. He moved into the compound about the same time I did. At first, I thought it would mean that we would be close friends because we were finding our place in the compound at the same time. Wrong. We were like enemies in a friendly way. Like a rival but the same team. I still haven’t figured out what we’re fighting for, but it’s fun to pick at him sometimes.

“Oh. My. Goodness. The original broke bitch in the flesh. Will you sign my cast? Omg you’re my idol.”

The eye roll is strong with this one. “Ahaha. How funny. What’s next, doll? Want to touch the arm? Brush my hair?” He plops down on the couch beside me, being careful of my leg. We might fight like kids, but we’d never hurt each other.

“Well, you started it. Don’t start something you can’t finish.” All I get in response is a grunt.

I change the channel to Wheel of Fortune. These game shows have actually helped Bucky and Steve more than we thought they would. Now they watch them religiously. I go back to my book though.

We sit in silence like this often when it’s just us. If anyone else was in this area of the compound, in the compound at that, we would bicker and fight, but if it was just us, it was like that competition was gone. We were no longer rivals. There was no attention or favor to fight for. Of course, I wouldn't fight for attention. I understand he needs all he can get because of his time as the Winter Soldier, but I was just a regular freak that Steve picked up on the side of the road. It wasn’t that simple, but you get the jist.

“So....what ya reading?” I peel my eyes from the page. “Uh, it’s this book called Howl’s Moving Castle. I love to reread it every once in a while. There’s a movie, but it isn’t anything like the book. But in the best way possible.”

His eyebrow raises. He turns his head from the television to look at me. He’s doing that stupid smirk. I bet it stole many hearts in the forties…

“Are you saying the movie is better than the book?”

“What? No! This is a case where the book and the movie are both amazing. They focus on entirely different points of interest. The movie is a beautiful tale of love and accepting one’s self while the book is a magical adventure of societal structures and women’s place in society. They are both amazing pieces of art!”

“Here they go again. When are you two lovebirds gonna get on with it and get married? I can hear the wedding bells now.”

“TONY!” Bucky and I scream then our heads swivel back to each other and the fight begins.

“Well, I’m sorry that you have to get so butt hurt about some stupid book. Why can’t you just handle things like an adult?”

“That’s rich coming from you James. I don’t think you’ve handled anything like an adult. Should we bring up Steve’s apple pie? Or what about when you put pop-its under Sam’s toilet seat? Or the time you put KETCHUP PACKETS under Sam’s toilet seat?!”

The argument carried on for a few minutes more, but Tony must have gotten far enough away that the fire died out. We’re both children, so Bucky is cross armed at the television while my nose is back in my book. We probably sat like that for 30 minutes before the explosion happened.

Bucky sprung into action. I sat up as much as one could when their entire leg is in a cast. F.R.I.D.A.Y. comes over the intercom. “There has been a chemical leak in the east wing lab. Immediate evacuation is requested. We ask that you remain calm and follow the predetermined route outside. Further instructions will be given there.”

“Bucky, we’re in the east wing!”

“I know that! C’mon. We’ve got to go. Now.”

Bucky helps me off the couch. I grab my crutches, and we begin our journey outside. Everything is going fine and dandy. No one else seems to be in the east wing, so we carry on quickly. Well, until we get to the elevator.

“I’m sorry Miss. The elevator is not in working condition right now. I must ask that you take the stairs.”

My face falls. “The stairs? Friday, my leg is broken. There’s no way I can wobble down the stairs. Friday? Friday?!”

“I’ll carry you.”

“What? No. You are just gonna throw me down the stairs. I know what you did to Sam.”

“That was different!”

“How so? You were supposed to carry him down the stairs, just like me, but you threw him!”

“I did not throw Sam down the stairs! I rolled him down the stairs. I’m not gonna do that to you.”

“Why should I believe that?”

“Because you’re different. You’re different from everyone else. You’re not Steve or Sam or anyone else for that matter.”

“So, I’m throwable, but Sam isn’t?”

Something broke in him. His eyes darken and metal plates shift. He looks like he could growl. “You’re different than everyone. In the best way possible. Just like your book and movie. Everyone is them, but you’re you. So, let me help you!”

Something in me goes all warm and fuzzy. “Okay. I trust you.”

The air around us changes, There’s no more fear or anger. It’s like we’re a team. He sweeps me up into bridal position, but it’s a little more chaotic because one of my legs is straight out. We quickly descended the stairs. His arms around my body. My arms around his neck. Our faces have never been so close. I can feel his breath on my cheek. From the corner of my eyes, I can see his concentration. I can see the cogs spinning in his head, mapping out every step, so he doesn’t throw the both of us down the stairs. His blue eyes sparkle in the flashing red light. If I was in my right mind, I would even say he was beautiful.

We reach the bottom of the stairs, but he doesn’t put me down. He breaks out in a full sprint. I’m forced to hug his neck tighter. I pull myself into him, trying to make myself smaller for his advantage. It feels like I’m riding a horse. The huffing. The bouncing.

“What are you over there giggling about?”

“It’s like riding a horse. Your huffing, bouncing in your arms, the breeze on my face, the absolute terror of falling.”

“Oh, you think I’m a horse now? I’ll be a horse.” And like the absolute madman he is, Bucky starts doing some weird gallop run, Basically jostling me all around. It’s terrifying, but I can’t help but laugh. A big, full belly laugh. I grip his neck as he twirls and jumps around. Bucky begins to laugh, and not like the hardy hars he gives Sam and Steve. Full body laughs that fill me with happiness. We spin and jump and laugh. We’re like two birds but nowhere near as graceful. That part of me begins to beat and flutter ever fast.

We gallop our way outside, only to be met with no one. “Where is everyone?”

We start looking around from anyone when Tony calls to us from the roof. “There you two are! You missed the debrief. There was a spill. It was just some grape juice onto one of F.R.I.D.A.Y’s sensors. The alarms went off a while ago. Where were you guys?”

Bucky and I looked at each other. “We were trying to get out. I had trouble on the stairs, but we figured it out.”

“Uh huh. You two look like you were in a marathon or a tornado. Are you sure it was the stairs?”

We both scream “yep!” and hurry back inside. Well, Bucky hurried back inside. I can feel the heat coming off of Bucky’s face, so I'm sure he could feel the heat coming from mine.

We make it back to the commons area. Bucky carefully puts me back onto the couch and reclaims his place at my feet. I pick up my book and he continues watching Wheel of Fortune. It’s almost as if nothing happened, but something has changed.

“Hey Buck?”

“Yeah doll?”

“I wouldn’t oppose going horseback riding with you sometime.”

He throws his head back; his body full of laughter. “I wouldn’t mind either, doll.”

#bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky fluff #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky imagine #bucky fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky fanfic #james buchanan barnes #bucky x reader #mcu fandom #marvel #fanfic #fluff

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boneandfur · 3 years

Text

Time After Time 2/2

TWO

Note: the characters demanded smut. There is a link to the NSFW version on ao3 at that point. tumblr won’t let me load the moodboard. I’m very frustrated with this hellsite.

Women aren't doctors at the Front, Miss... what did you say your name was again? Ah, Miss Valentine. American. That explains it... But we do need good quality nurses... You'll be sent to France right away on account of your prior training... Jolly good, just sign the dotted line...

"I assume you'll have the watered wine, Rookie." Ramsay leans across the table, lightly tugging the menu from Helena's numb fingers. Every little boom makes her shiver, though she's adopted the English habit of keeping a stiff upper lip. Her grandmother has told her stories to curdle your guts, about standing on a hill at Gettysburg and watching her lover ride hell for leather into battle. And I followed him, didn't I, chick?

"What brought you here? To the Front?" Helena cocks her head at him, and Ramsay's brows raise nearly to his hairline.

"You're bold as brass.” Ramsay snaps his fingers. “I like that. Knew it as soon as you stepped out of that line of nurses that you wouldn't turn into a shrinking violet at your first amputation." Ramsay turns to their waiter, a Frenchman of elderly years with an ear trumpet. "We'll take your best watered wine for the lady, and a bottle of whiskey."

Helena coughs lightly, and addresses the waiter in seamless French. "(What is the special today?)"

The old man looks sad. "(I am afraid we do not have anything special. Just some eel ragout, and fresh bread my wife baked this morning.)"

"(Then we will take that, and your best bottle of Merlot.)"

When the owner has gone, Ramsay smiles broadly at Helena, showing white teeth against three days shadow of a beard on his jaw. "By God, you're a marvel. Never learned much French myself, besides what I've had to behind the lines."

"Oh, my governess despaired of me." Helena shrugs, but cannot help smiling in return. "I can speak enough French to get by, you know, but I could never pass for a natural."

"Well, you are an American." But it does not sound like an insult.

The eel comes, and she eats ravenously, less like a lady and more like the girl who downed seven glasses of champagne and then raced her brother from Boston to Concord on horseback.

And Ramsay drinks. Thoughtfully. Mindfully. She does not remember, afterward, nor for many years, what they said, only how she had smiled and smiled until her cheeks hurt, and the ticking of the pocket watch.

One two, one two. Tick tock. Eleven hours. Ten hours. Nine hours. Eleven minutes and eleven seconds.

No more standing to in trenches,//Only one more church parade.

"I had a patron who paid for me to go to medical school, a well respected chap named Naveen.” Ramsay nurses his whiskey, rolling the glass with purpose between his palms. “After school, I joined the army to make something of myself, and went to India. My wife deserted me for another man while I was gone. She didn't like the army life, you see."

Helena reaches out, laying her hand over his. Ramsay startles, but does not move his hand away, and instead flips it over, laying his palm flat against hers and caressing her wrist with his rough fingers. She drags in a breath, the sudden widening of his pupils making her lower abdomen flutter. "I ran away from home. No one knows I'm here, or I'd be dragged back to Boston to marry a Stirling and pop out an heir and a spare before the war has even gotten started."

"You don't even want to know about what this war will look like if it keeps going, lass." Ramsay drains his glass, and pours them both another. "I'd tell you to go back to Boston, but I can see by that look in your eye that you'll see this thing through. I respect that."

Helena does not trust herself to speak. The wine is making her thoughts slow, but she does not want this moment to end.

Ramsay rubs a hand over his jaw. "That was back in '09. I hung my boots up, moved to Scotland, and threw myself into practice in Edinburgh. Then that damn fool shot a Prince, and well, here we are."

Steady, silent. Their eyes meet and the watch ticks on. Helena feels as though she is drowning. His mouth moves and she only feels the heat of his palm against hers, her cheeks ablaze.

'Nurse! Nurse Valentine! Are you dumb or are you just deaf?! Hand me those scissors, and bring me another scalpel... These damned orderlies don't know what they're doing...'

Their eyes meet across the bloody operating table. The soldier is mercilessly unconscious, a bloody piece of shrapnel in his thigh. He'd been screaming since he came in off the ambulance, a boy of no more than nineteen, a Tommy named Elijah... 'Mum, Mum, water, water...'

'That's a Blighty, Rookie. Your first. Are you going to faint on me, lass?' Ramsay's eyes lock on Helena's. She feels the flint of his gaze go straight to her spine, and straightens up.

'No, Doctor. I'll be fine, sir.'

'I told you Americans have brass, Ramsay!' The surgeon, Lahela, winks at Helena in passing, but she does not notice. Her gaze does not falter under Ramsay's. 'Pass me the tweezers.'

His mouth quirks, just a shade. 'Good girl.'

"...Good God, Rookie, will you drink the whole bottle? I promise my company isn't as bad as all that." Helena feels Ramsay tug at her wine glass, and relinquishes it. The lamp has begun to burn low, and from the outside of the cafe is the sound of drunken laughter. "You shouldn't walk out there alone. Come on, I'll walk you back to your billet."

"I don't have one," Helena confesses. She pats her bag, shamefaced. "I spent my money for the hotel on books... I can sleep on the truck."

Ramsay shakes his head. "No, no, that won't do. We can't have you more dead on your feet than usual. I have a solution. It's a bit unorthodox. Do you trust me?"

Eight hours, three minutes, seven seconds.

•••

Helena does not know why, but the lights from the star shells, all green and gold, make her grip Ramsay's arm tighter, and press against his side. At the corner, he stops and gazes down at her, a strange and wild new thing in his face, something she dares not name.

Don't forget me, Helena Valentine. When this lousy war is over, I'll come back, you see...

"Tell me..." Ramsay brushes a curl back from her brow, his broad fingertips sending a crackle across her bare flesh. "Why did you become a doctor, Rookie -- Helena?"

"I read a wonderful book." Helena ducks her head, and looks up at Ramsay from under her lashes, illuminated by the lamplight. Behind them, to the east, she hears the screech of a Minnie, and his hands tighten on her fingers. "It was written by a Scottish doctor who had served in India, on the Northwest Frontier." Her gaze skitters away.

People said when we enlisted,//Fame and medals we would win.

"Ah. I knew a chap who served there, in his younger days." Ramsay tucks her cold hand through his elbow. The snow is falling thicker now, and they are nearly to the hotel. A quick word from Ramsay to the proprietor -- she hears the words une chambre pour les jeunes mariés -- He knows French after all --

And before she knows it, she is sitting in a delectably steaming hot hip bath, strewn with lavender and rosemary. She washes her hair and cannot remember the last time she felt such luxury.

Nine months, two days, thirteen minutes...

When this war is over, //No more soldiering for me.

"You can have the bed. I'll bunk down with Medical Officers Gayle and Nguyen, from the -nth Platoon." Ramsay stands in the doorway, his cap in his hands, avoiding looking directly at Helena in her muslin shift. "We wouldn't want you to lose your reputation and have to leave the war so soon."

"Stay." She feels her eyelids drooping, and pats the quilt next to her. "Please, stay."

"You know I can't do that." Yet, she hears the floorboards squeak as Ramsay settles next to her on a chair. The inn rattles like a whizzbang and she grasps Ramsay's hand, clutching at it until the clattering of the teacups subsides. "Only a little longer, then, Rookie. Until you're safe."

•••

Ethan watches Helena Valentine fall asleep. There is nothing he'd like more than to climb next to her in that big bed, to feel her lithe body against his. But it would be wrong, even though nothing will ever be right again after the war is over. But if he can keep her safe -- If I can keep her alive -- he dares not finish the thought.

“You wouldn't remember me, Helena Valentine, but I was the guest speaker of honor when they hung the plaque for your grandfather at the Royal Hospital, in Edinburgh.” Ethan whispers the words, barely a murmur. The whiskey has given him courage, here in a small hotel near the Ypres front.

Ypres, the Race to the Sea. Generals called it a triumph, but the only thing the war has given Ethan thus far has been insomnia for thirty-six hours, a hatred of mustard gas and a pair of fine German boots from over the top.

“He was an old surgeon, a medical man, who fought in the American Civil War, but he did great things for Scottish medicine, too, back in his youth.” Helena's fingertips tighten on his palm, and Ethan fears he has said too much. But he goes on, like a schoolboy at the confessional, for who can say when they shall ever have this moment again? And hasn't the war taught him by now to leave nothing unsaid?

“You must have been not more than twenty-one, then. You were still unmarried, with a vast inheritance that folks said you'd squandered on medical school. I knew right then and there that Jonas Valentine would have been proud of you. I wanted to introduce myself right there and then…”

But I was too tongue tied by your beauty, and couldn't find the words. Later, when I saw you again in Ypres, I couldn't believe my own eyes. I didn't want to tell you how I felt then...

(But that will keep, until this war is over.)

Her grip loosens, and he knows she is sleeping. She sighs in her slumber when his lips brush across her dainty brow, and it is with everything inside of him screaming at him to turn around that he walks away.

When I get my civvy clothes on,/Oh how happy I shall be.

•••

Forty-five minutes, thirty seconds.

The books are too heavy. Yet, Helena, an oasis of blue with a red cross on one arm in a sea of green uniforms, settles in with Sherlock Holmes. Rookie... She snaps the book shut, watching the landscape go by from the army van.

I shouldn't... We shouldn't. Ramsay cups both sides of Helena's face in his hands. The book drops to the floor. They are both damp from the bath, and his skin smells of cedar and lavender soap.

copy and paste into your tab: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29957496/chapters/73743633

Later, she will remember the exact way the quilt felt as he pulled it over her shoulders, tucking her in, embers in the grate and his lips ghosting across her forehead.

•••

Twenty years on, when a new war is brewing, this is what Helena Valentine remembers:

The air, so still and warm, with not a single lark singing. The earth smells of flowers and death, and she is sharing sterilizing duty with VAD Nurse Varma, whom she'd come over from London with.

"I suppose you think you're better than me, being a real doctor and all, but..." Jackie's lips move, but Helena cannot hear what she is saying. All she can hear is a buzzing sound, a ringing in her head.

One two, one two.

Her hands tremble with fatigue over the medical instruments.

Thirteen minutes and forty-seven seconds.

Tick, tock.

The table begins to shake and she looks at Jackie, their eyes wide as they clasp hands -- and then they are running -- and the bridge is shaking, it's shaking Dr Ramsay, you shouldn't be out here, it's wartime you know --

No one can know about this, about us. You know that, right?

I know, Dr Ramsay.

He cups her chin in his hand. They say you're a grasping American chit, but you're my American chit now, and I won't hear anything against you. Oh -- and don't check your bag until you're on the truck back to the lines. I left something there for you.

Then you have this -- keep it until the war is over -- it was my grandfather's and it's over a hundred years old and it's still ticking on.

His mouth is warm on hers, tip of his tongue pressed against hers for a surprisingly electric surge.

-- "Nurse Valentine! Valentine!" --

Helena wakes in the morning with the ashes cold in the grate, Ramsay's greatcoat draped over her. It smells of peat and whiskey, and the faintest whiff of mustard gas. Her thighs are wet and she looks under the quilts and realizes her cycle has started, and she does not know why, but she begins to sob, whether from relief or terror she knows not.

One two, one two.

(Twelve hours, seventeen minutes, and thirty four seconds.)

Tick, tock.

People said when we enlisted,/Fame and medals we would win,/But the fame is in the guardroom,/And those medals made of tin.

#ethan x mc #open heart #open heart fanfic #oph #rafael x mc #n*fwish

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wavesmp3 · 4 years

Text

the sea is yours to take

pairing: wen junhui x fem!reader genre: royalty au, high fantasy, romance, slow burn warnings: mentions of death, violence (but it’s usually friendly) wc: 36k (it’s so long, i know, i’m sorry)

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 away from home. And it certainly doesn’t help that Jun, the southern Lord of the estate you’ve been sent to, seems to hate your guts. a/n: this is so long, and the beginning is kind of slow but like, i think it’d be pretty dope if you were to stick it out just sayin

—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,”

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 Seungkwan had requested the maker carve out one of the Seven Gifts of the Spirit and one of the Seven Sins. Specifically, Prince Seungkwan 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 Seungkwan had excitedly gifted this to you and explained in great detail the trouble he went through to get it done. At the time, Seungkwan had been much younger and things had been so much simpler. You wonder what Seungkwan 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 Hansol and embrace him in a long hug. You can feel the longing in his arms. It warms your heart.

“I’ve missed you dearly, Hansol.”

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 Mark.”

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

Hansol’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 Hansol.”

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

“Oh.” You say simply. “Well congratulations Captain Hansol. 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 both quiet for a moment. Until he asks, “Now about Seungkwan-”

You shut the door in his face.

—LORD JUN—

Jun 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, Jun was not one for traveling. To Jun nothing seemed particularly glamorous about the reality of riding on horseback for days and nights on end. Jun was much too content with staying by the sea at the estate which Jun called home. There, at his estate, the town was self-governed and quiet. There Jun felt peace. Here, on his horse's saddle finally reaching a clearing in the woods, Jun feels most notably irritable (although boredom and tire are a close second). Here, faced with the reality of traveling, Jun understands even less why his father and Captain Wonwoo put up with it.

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

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

And of course, Wonwoo is right. Jun 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 Jun has yet to see the latter tale, Wonwoo is right; Jun loves the abyss that is the Zalazar River.

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

"Yes," Wonwoo 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," Jun mutters, gripping the reins of his horse tightly, "I'm sure spring does the city well."

"It does." Wonwoo says simply looking out towards the river as the horses step onto the Bronze Bridge. Wonwoo must sense Jun's discomfort because the next part he says with hesitation. "Lord Jun, 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 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 Soonyoung’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 Soonyoung and can only pray to the Gods that his plans are going well. Prince Seokmin, 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 Seokmin’s face, he smiles sympathetically at you. Next to Seokmin is Prince Seungkwan 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, Seungkwan 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 Seungkwan 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 scowls, and the council members roll their eyes while both of the present princes hide snickers.

"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 Seokmin'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-" Seungkwan 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!” Seungkwan shouts at the council member, rage contorting his face. “How dare—"

Seokmin cuts Seungkwan off, before he can rampage further. "Father, Seungkwan 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." Seokmin'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 Soonyoung'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 Jun and Captain Wonwoo from the southern lands are on their way to the Golden Palace as we speak. They are to arrive later today." The name Jun 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 Jun’s name before. Jun’s father was a regular visitor to the Golden Palace before he fell sick and died in the palace infirmaries several years ago.

“But—” Seungkwan 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 Mark to prevent."

***

You weep for hours and hours. You weep for this kingdom. You weep for Seungkwan, for Hansol, for Seokmin, for Soonyoung. 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 Seokmin. 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 Seokmin?"

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, Seokmin's lips turn down in a frown. "I can't imagine someone who distrusts the monarchy so much even considering a prince anyways."

"I'm sure that's not something a few more trips to the east can't change, Seokmin. 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. Seokmin 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.

"Seokmin 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 Jun'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 Wonwoo." You vaguely knew of Captain Wonwoo. He was a Captain of the Knights of the Holy Order, second only to the Commander, but retired at a young age. Lord Jun 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?" Seokmin 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 Seokmin 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 Seokmin. Even in the darkest of moments, he remains a ray of light. “You remind me so much of your grandfather, Seokmin.”

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?"

"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. Fortitude spends it immersed in her memories.

Finally, Seokmin 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 Seungkwan 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, Seungkwan,” 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. Seungkwan 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 Seungkwan, 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. “Seokmin was saying how he reminds you of our grandfather.”

You inhale sharply. Conversing with Seungkwan 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…” Seungkwan 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 Seungkwan was simple and delightful, of a time when Seungkwan was a child. You let the question sit in the air for a second despite knowing exactly who Seungkwan 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 Seokmin. In a way, that makes Seungkwan so dear to you. “You remind me of your mother, Seungkwan.” 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.”

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

You falter, not quite able to put your finger on who Soonyoung 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 Soonyoung long gone, the memory seems so faint; you aren’t even sure it’s real.

“I’m not sure,” is all you can say. Seungkwan 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.

Seungkwan 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.”

“Seungkwan,” 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 Seungkwan telling you the same foolish things the people you think so lowly of do. You do not need Seungkwan persisting that a marriage will fix everything. You do not need Seungkwan, even less do you need his romantic interest in you. But you want Seungkwan, 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 Seungkwan.”

“Not until-”

There’s another knock at the door. “Seungkwan, I said go!” You yell whipping the door open to come face to face with a wide-eyed Hansol. “Oh, Hansol,” 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.”

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

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

“Seokmin always talks plenty,” Hansol hums, amused but calm.

Hansol, 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, Hansol turned out to be an excellent fighter. Before you had relieved the orphan boy of his petty debts to the King, Hansol 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, Hansol 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 Hansol, 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. Hansol was the first true friend you had since the princes' late mother.

And after a while of you glaring at the fire and Hansol crossing and uncrossing his legs, he finally speaks up again. "Don't blame yourself for Seungkwan'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 Seungkwan and you?"

You nod although there is no 'Seungkwan and you'. There is only Seungkwan'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." Hansol jokes. You laugh for the first time that day, and it feels like you can finally breathe again.

"Have you heard any word from Soonyoung?" The question seems to bring you both back to reality. And the question, or perhaps reality, drags Hansol'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…?” Hansol asks, hopeful.

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

Hansol 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 Soonyoung's plan. On a hunch and a forgotten memory, you had advised Soonyoung to head north to the Giant Forest. Specifically, you had advised Soonyoung 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 Jeonghan, 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."

Hansol shakes his head, a crease running through his forehead. “Soonyoung 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 Hansol sounds as if he’s convincing himself of it as much as he’s convincing you. But you know, there is some truth to Hansol's words. Soonyoung 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 Soonyoung. Soonyoung trained under you by the request of his mother and to the disdain of his father, and as Soonyoung grew, so did his skill. By the time Soonyoung 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 Soonyoung 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 Soonyoung that perplexes you, is the same one that proves Soonyoung 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, "Soonyoung is capable. I'm just worried. It all..." you hesitate struggling to find the right words, "It all makes my head ache."

Hansol 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 Soonyoung to the Nomads’ Land?”

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

You do.

“I’ve told you before, Hansol. 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 Soonyoung 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 Soonyoung before he took off.

Hansol 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 Hansol 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 Soonyoung? Why did you send him to the Nomads’ Lands?”

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

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

“I’m sorry.” Hansol 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 JUN—

"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.” Jun 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, Jun can’t focus on. No, instead, Jun 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 Jun and Wonwoo unsure and timid and you holding your head in your hands, complaining of a headache to a servant in hushed tones. Yet, Jun sits in the palace temple thinking and overthinking how you, the Gift of Fortitude, looked so undeniably human.

Jun 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, Jun 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 Jun can think to describe you.

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

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

“Lord King I present to you Lady Gift of Fortitude, Lord Jun, and Captain Wonwoo." The guard announces to the King's throne room as the three of you enter. The throne room, Jun notices, is just as lavish as the rest of the palace if not more. Five of the six counsel seats are filled. Prince Seokmin and Prince Seungkwan sit attentively at their thrones, but Prince Soonyoung's throne is empty. Jun 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 Soonyoung 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 Jun's estate as a place for you to stay. Jun 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.

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

“I apologize for the circumstances, Lord Jun and Captain Wonwoo. 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,” Wonwoo affirms, glancing at Jun as if expecting him to say something, but Jun stays silent. “I find it a shame although,” Wonwoo says to cover Jun’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 Soonyoung? I’ve heard you’re close to all three Princes.”

“You heard correctly, Captain Wonwoo.” Then you pause. Jun closely observes the way you carefully choose your next words. “Prince Soonyoung 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," Wonwoo says in an even but skeptical tone.

"Yes, Prince Soonyoung 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 Soonyoung's absence. Something the King's court has chosen to cover up and ignore. Jun knew just how impulsive the King could be, and for that reason, Jun suspects that Prince Soonyoung has snuck out of the palace, but then with another look at your scornful face, Jun suspects something different. Prince Soonyoung must have been sent away by his father himself. The realization takes a moment to sink in.

Wonwoo clears his throat. “And then what about Lord Mark, 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. Jun and Wonwoo stop walking as well.

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

Wonwoo 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. Jun thinks, as mad as it sounds, that you, a Gift of the Spirit, look a little nervous.

Jun 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 Jun and Captain Wonwoo with steady eyes. “Lord Mark was murdered.” You state with an eerie simplicity. You hesitate before adding the next part. “And I was the one who killed him.”

Jun 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 Jun and Wonwoo can even comprehend what you just said.

***

Jun waits for you and Wonwoo in the stables. He tends to his horse deep in thought.

Jun 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 Jun 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.

Jun 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 Jun 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, Jun doubts there is much that could stop you. Lord Mark’s murder had gone unannounced and relatively unpunished. Jun wonders if Lord Mark was an isolated example or just another among the many whose lives were put in your hands.

But then when Jun 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 Jun 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 Jun,” you say suddenly, bringing to Jun’s attention your presence in the stables.

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

“Ah,” you mutter. And for a second, Jun 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 Jun’s. “I found him a while back by the Zalazar River.”

Jun 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. Jun 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 Jun,” 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 Jun 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 Jun so that you stand beside him facing the opposite stable door. You turn your head, and Jun 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.”

Jun 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 Jun 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.

Jun 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 Jun,” Wonwoo says, a laugh dancing under his words.

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

Wonwoo releases Jun’s shoulder. “Enough,” he hums with an enthusiastic nod.

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

Wonwoo’s quiet for a moment, but when he does speak again, he does so seriously. Jun listens intently. “It’s not that I’m excusing murder Jun. 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.”

Jun 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?”

Wonwoo 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 Jun, a crime is only as grave as its motivation.”

Jun is silent, taking his time to understand what Wonwoo means. He returns his attention to his horse.

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

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

“Anything worth sharing?”

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

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

Eventually, Wonwoo 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 Wonwoo 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 Jun, Captain Wonwoo, and the Gift of Fortitude begin the two day journey south.

The journey is quiet and tense. The only conversation coming from Wonwoo 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 green color. Wonwoo 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 Jun 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,” Wonwoo 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 forest green river a little less tensely.

***

They take rest at an inn for the night. Jun 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 Jun, Wonwoo, and you. Jun 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’re aware of the way Jun 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 Jun 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 Jun understand your motives without involving him in the palace’s politics. You want to make peace.

You exhale sharply.

“Lord Jun,” his eyes widen when you address him, “Captain Wonwoo, I know you must have many reasons to distrust me.” Jun 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 Jun and Captain Wonwoo nearly begging for their acceptance.

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

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

You smile. “It was a gift from the princes’ late mother.” The reminder makes your smile turn sad. Lord Jun 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.” Wonwoo tells you with a laugh, and you let yourself believe that you’ve made some progress. Lord Jun, however, doesn’t let you believe so for long.

“I have a question.” Lord Jun implores, bringing himself out of his silence. His voice is stern and a little cold. Wonwoo 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.

“Jun—“ Wonwoo starts.

“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 Jun directly, “Fortitude. The Sins and Gifts were given to the people as protectors. As humanity’s fighters. To answer your question Lord Jun, 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 Jun 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 Jun tonight. Perhaps you had hoped for too much.

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

You request to be taken straight to your quarters.

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

“How so?” Jun 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 a snack earlier.”

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

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

Wonwoo 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.”

Jun 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, Wonwoo.”

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

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

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

And with that Wonwoo leaves from the dining room. Jun finishes the rest of his dinner alone.

—THE GIFT OF FORTITUDE—

You were unhappy. You didn’t want to be at Lord Jun’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 Jun 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 Jun waking up and deciding he wants to spend time with you willingly. Then you suspect if Wonwoo 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 Jun is already waiting, facing away from the estate and towards the grassy path.

“Lord Jun.”

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

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

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

Jun laughs but it sounds small and strained. “Yes, Wonwoo 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 Jun 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 Jun,” you address softly, “did Wonwoo put you up to this?”

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

“Thank you, Lord Jun.”

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.”

Jun 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 Jun is the one to make the peace you wanted so badly.

You find yourself to be smiling too.

“Come on,” Jun 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 Jun 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.

Jun 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 Seokmin 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.”

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

“Oh Jun, 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 Seokmin that night.

Dear Seokmin, 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 JUN—

Jun 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. Jun 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. Jun squints at the scene and recognizes the bird as your Risal. This piques his interest.

“Wonwoo,” Jun calls out. Wonwoo tends to keep Jun company while he works, reading a book in the corner armchair. But when Jun is met with silence, he looks over to find the book closed on his lap and Wonwoo fast asleep. Jun covers Wonwoo 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 Jun behind you before he bothers to make his presence known.

“Have you already finished your work Jun?” 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.” Jun 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.”

Jun smiles shyly. The two of you settle into a silence. You scratching the stray cat to sleep and Jun 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. Jun 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 Wonwoo.

“How do they work?” Jun 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 Jun 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 Jun can’t hear to the bird. The bird suddenly launches itself from your arm and soars into the sky. Jun 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.”

Jun waits a moment. Eventually the screech comes, and Jun 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. Jun 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. Jun 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.”

Jun 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 Jun 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. Jun runs to you immediately.

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

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

“So,” Jun 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?”

Jun 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. Seungkwan 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 Wonwoo and Lord Jun. -Seokmin

—LORD JUN—

“The service was long today.” Jun states exiting the temple with Wonwoo 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.” Wonwoo 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.

Jun 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 Jun and Wonwoo can stop you.

The sanctuary hasn’t been used in years, and the state of it shocks Jun. In fact, the sanctuary itself shocks Jun. 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 Jun, Wonwoo, 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, Jun 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 Jun sick to the stomach.

But that’s not where Jun finds you. Instead, Jun and Wonwoo find you kneeling on the floor next to the broken stone of what once was a sculpture dedicated to the Sin of Pride. Jun 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. Jun 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 Jun can’t help the way his heart aches at the sheer amount of heartbreak that rings from your cries.

Jun and Wonwoo decide to wait for you outside.

—THE GIFT OF FORTITUDE—

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

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

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

—LORD JUN—

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

Jun scoffs, side eyeing Wonwoo’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 Jun notices the way your eyes crinkle. “Yes, yes. I figured as much.”

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

And when the servant girl leaves, Jun 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.

“Mina.”

“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.”

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

“Smile less.”

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

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

Jun 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.” Jun 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?”

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

“Don’t laugh.” you stutter, but it’s too late because Jun 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 Jun’s offer is genuine or not.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

Your shoulders drop. “Yes please.”

Jun 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, Jennie, 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. My father had her with another woman before he married my mother.”

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

“She married an islander, Seungcheol, and lives there with him.” Jun allows his eyes to drift towards the sea. Islands were peppered all along the coast, and the island Jennie and her husband and kids lived on was only a couple hours from here by boat. Jun 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 Jun 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 Jun, but today Jun was busy which left you helplessly bored and laying in your bed staring at the ceiling. Your mind had begun to wander to Soonyoung and his impossible journey, to Hansol and your forgotten conversation, to the King and his future plans, and to Lord Mark. 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 Jun’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 Mina 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 Mina agrees, you’re grateful that you’ve found a distraction.

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

“Mina, do you happen to have a crush on Lord Jun?”

Mina freezes like a deer. “Oh Lady Gift, it isn’t like that please don’t misunderstand. It’s not like I intend to marry him or anything.” She shakes her head vigorously. “It’s just that… Lord Jun has shown me nothing but kindness and I-“ She cuts herself off, fidgeting with her fingers. You assure her that it’s okay. Mina 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 Jun is.”

An embarrassed smile emerges on Mina’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 Mina wasn’t skilled in the art of keeping things to herself, you wouldn’t have admitted to the young girl your thoughts of Jun’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 Jun 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, Jun’s estate does not house an archery gallery. But when Jun 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 Jun 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?” Jun 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 Jun 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.” Jun 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 Jun’s face. “What was that?”

A giggling Jun 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 Soonyoung being sent away and then again the ones that led up to Lord Mark’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 Seokmin you have yet to respond to. You would’ve sent one back sooner if the line about Seungkwan 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 their mother and your dearest friend, and when she 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 Seungkwan could love you romantically repulsed you. You were mad at Seungkwan, disappointed in him, and yet, you still miss him as much as you miss Seokmin and Soonyoung. You long to talk with the three princes like you once did, before Seungkwan 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 were told about the rocky cliffs that laid a little to the west of Jun’s estate by Jun, Wonwoo, and Mina. But you had never walked so far with either of them to see them yourself.

“Jun,” 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. “Wonwoo 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 Jun 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?”

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

“How old are you?”

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

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

“Well, maybe not as old as you,” Jun 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.”

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

You inhale. “Too old, Jun.”

He doesn’t ask you to explain any further, but when you think about the years behind Jun’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 Jun’s gaze, and suddenly you feel as tired as you do old.

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

***

Dear Seokmin, 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 Soonyoung too much for my own good. Tell me if you hear anything from him. Tell Seungkwan that I miss him too, but that I’ve missed him long before I left the Golden Palace. -Fortitude

—LORD JUN—

The wind was softer and the sun hid behind the clouds more often after that night at the rocks. It was hard for Jun to explain, but after that day, something had changed. You let him in, and suddenly, things were different. You would ask Jun 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,” Jun 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?” Jun 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 Jun, 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 Jun’s turn to squint. “Run?”

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

Jun starts pulling his shoes off.

“Well,” Jun 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, Jun nods, and

you run.

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

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

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

Jun 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 Jun back. Jennie used to call him a mermaid because of how well he swims, and at one point, Jun had convinced himself he was. Jun feels at home by the sea. He feels peace listening to the seagulls and the lapping water. If time allowed it, Jun would spend years staring at the blue water.

Today however, sitting on top of the rocky cliffs with the Gift of Fortitude, Jun doesn’t watch the sun dip into the ocean and disappear beyond the horizon. Today Jun 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 Jun 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.

Jun 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. Jun thinks he’s gone too far or that he’s asked you too much. In that moment, Jun 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. Jun coughs the words up before he can take them back. Your lips part, and Jun’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 Chan, and we grew up in the same village. He was announced as the Sin of Pride a week before I was.”

Jun 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 Jun’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?”

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

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

And you do.

You tell Jun 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 who ruled when you were young. You tell him about Chan 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 Jun 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 Jun’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.”

Jun 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?”

“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.”

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

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

Jun 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, Jeonghan, took the throne, the Seven Gifts had fled from the palace, marking the start of the Holy Wars.

“I didn’t see Chan 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 Chan 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 Jeonghan struck me a deal. Jeonghan 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 Chan.”

You stop to breathe. Jun doesn’t say anything, but you watch him as if you’re waiting for him too. Jun thinks it’s wrong, what King Jeonghan did. Jun thinks he had no right to make you indebted to him. Somehow, you seem to sense what Jun’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. Jeonghan wasn’t much older than me. Jeonghan watched his mother die in the wake of this conflict between the Sins and Gifts, a conflict he had nothing to do with. Jeonghan was as young and as desperate and as scared as I was, only he was the King. By then, I was only 12. 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 Chan take his dying breath.”

Through the memories you share with him, Jun 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, Jun 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 Jun 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.”

Jun 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 Jun 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 Jun’s mind again. He hears something new in his memory of your cries. He hears regret.

The small part of Jun that’s upset with you dissolves the moment he looks over and sees the regret that darkens your eyes. In that moment, Jun 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 Jun feels frozen because he can’t seem to let go of the fact that you were only 12 when this all happened.

“Fortitude,” Jun 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.”

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

And when Jun 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 Jun does say something, the heavy air has been taken away by the current.

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

You close your eyes and keep them closed for longer than Jun 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 Jun, 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 Jeonghan 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.”

You sigh, but in the next moment you’re nearly laughing. Jun helplessly wonders how you’re able to change your mood so quickly, and then he wonders how you’re able to let go of things so easily.

“You know Jun, I’ve never told anyone these things before.” You say with the likeness of a laugh.

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

“No one’s ever asked.”

Jun 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 Jun is just another wave, there in the moment and gone in the next.

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

“Chan?”

Jun nods, and you look up to the sky.

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

It’s then that Jun 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, Jun 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 Mina brings out plates with your meals.

“I am, thank you Jun.” 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 Jun, 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?” Jun asks, thinking back to when you said you usually forget again after.

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

“Jun, do you know what Fortitude means?” Jun 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.”

Jun 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 Jun.” 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. Jun watches you go.

—THE GIFT OF FORTITUDE—

When Wonwoo finally returns to Jun’s estate, it feels like he’s been gone for an eternity. You’re out in the market with Mina 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 Wonwoo 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 Wonwoo’s voice. You sit up on your horse. “Jun’s father’s death anniversary is approaching.”

Oh.

“He tends to get very…” Wonwoo 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, Wonwoo.” You wait a beat. “Are you taking care of yourself?”

“How do you mean?”

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

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

“And who’s here to worry about you?”

Wonwoo sighs. “Thank you for the concern.”

***

The day of the anniversary itself, Wonwoo spends the entire day in his room and Jun 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 Seokmin.

“Come in.”

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

You hum. “Give my peace to Lord Jun and Captain Wonwoo.”

“Uh, no, Lady Gift.” Mina 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 Mina. “Lord Jun 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 Jun downstairs, and he tells you that you’re still waiting for Wonwoo.

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

Jun looks confused. “Why shouldn’t you”

“I mean I… I never really knew him.”

Jun 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.”

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

The temple is a sea of red. Wonwoo whispers to you that Jun’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 inhale.

You watch as Jun and Wonwoo 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 Mina 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 Jun’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 Jun 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.

Jun 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 Jun 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. 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. Seungkwan had just been born, still only an infant held in his father's arms. Soonyoung and Seokmin 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.

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

Jun 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 princes’ mother, the friend that made you feel human again. You throw one in for Jeonghan, the tortured teen who understood. You throw a stick for Chan 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 Mark and all the lives that have been taken by your hands. You throw your regret into the fire and mourn.

You forget Jun’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 Soonyoung, 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 Soonyoung.

The Risal returns while you’re shooting arrows alone. When Wonwoo came back and learned how you were using plates as targets and Jun as a stand, he had crafted targets hanging from the tree branches for you to use instead. You were thankful for Wonwoo’s generosity, but now, as you notch another arrow through your bowstring, you feel Jun’s absence 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 Soonyoung 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 Wonwoo’s handcrafted hanging targets. And to Jun and how he opened up his home to you, and how he listens. You decide it’s time to tell Captain Wonwoo and Lord Jun the truth; the truth you owe them.

“Did Soonyoung respond to your Risal?” Jun 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 Jun and Wonwoo share a look and ask you timidly why exactly Prince Soonyoung was sent away to begin with, you know. This is your chance. So you take it by the neck and run.

You recall to Jun and Wonwoo the day things started changing within the Golden Palace. The day Soonyoung came to you sad and betrayed and alone.

“This isn’t right,” Soonyoung 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 Soonyoung 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, Seokmin joined these meetings. Then Seungkwan 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 Soonyoung sat with you. Seokmin was on a northern campaign, and Seungkwan 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,” Soonyoung 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 Soonyoung, what are you suggesting?”

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

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

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

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

“We kept it a secret, Soonyoung and I,” you continue. Jun and Wonwoo listen silently but intently. “We didn’t even tell his brothers. The only other person we told was Hansol. And while we plotted against the King, I started remembering things. For some reason, being around Soonyoung 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 Soonyoung 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 Soonyoung 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 Soonyoung. It was difficult for him to watch his own father spiral into insanity. So when Soonyoung 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 Soonyoung 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 Wonwoo who asks, leaning off the edge of his seat like he can’t stand the suspense of it. “What did you tell Prince Soonyoung?”

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

Jun 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 Soonyoung 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 Mark 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 Mark was locked in the palace prisons that night, and no one but the King and I knew.

“I told you,” you look at Jun, “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 Mark 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—”

Jun 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 Soonyoung was sent away,” you finish, looking up at Wonwoo and Jun. “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 Wonwoo 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 Seokmin and Prince Seungkwan 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,” Jun says with a hand under his chin, “why did you send Soonyoung to the Nomads?”

Suddenly, you’re reminded of your last conversation with Hansol, 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 Jun 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 Jun asks, you know.

Jun 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 Jeonghan 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 Soonyoung to them?

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

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

The response from Seokmin comes a few days later.

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

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 Seungkwan around the palace grounds. Playing pranks on Soonyoung. And setting silly traps for Seokmin. 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 Soonyoung told them the truth. And you’re glad he did.

You sleep wonderfully that night

—LORD JUN—

Jun hopes you never learn how to braid your own hair. Your hair was so soft and it smelled nice too. Jun 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 Jun sections your hair into three parts, “for Wonwoo to spend so much time away from his family.”

His hand lingers by the nape of your neck.

“Yes, it must.”

The next day Jun tells Wonwoo to go back home.

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

“Go home, Wonwoo.” Jun insists. “Paid leave.”

Wonwoo 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 Seokmin, and then quietly accept the lack of response from Soonyoung. You quietly begin taking more walks and then silently start taking them alone. You have been quiet since Wonwoo 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 Jun, taunting him back and forth since the night you told him and Wonwoo everything. Jun 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 Jun! Come quick!” Mina screams from somewhere in the estate. Jun 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.”

Jun runs.

He runs past Mina, 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. Jun’s heart stops.

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

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

Jun puts a hand on Mina’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. Jun 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.

Jun 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 Mina stiffen beside him.

“Lord Jun, what are you doing?” Mina asks frantically.

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

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

“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 Jun’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.

Jun 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 Jun 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. Jun watches. Amazed.

It’s when Mina 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 Jun thinks that this must be it. Your body floating, sinking, falling in the water. This must be what it meant to give up.

But Jun 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. Mina pulls you both out of the water. And Jun bangs at your chest and blows life into your lungs until you are choking and breathing and alive. Jun falls into the sand beside you.

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

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

“It looked like you were dying,” Jun 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, Jun.” 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.”

Jun 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 Jun 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 JUN—

The quiet is gone. It’s like you jumped off Angel’s Peak and dropped the silence in the water. Jun is glad because, above all things, the quiet made him worry.

You only wait a day before you’re asking Jun 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, Jun would have agreed to teach you regardless, his choice or not.

Jun’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.

Jun 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 Jun. You race him to the rocks and back. You win everytime. Though Jun takes pride in the way he doesn’t end far behind. Jun 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 Jun 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. Jun immediately assumes the worst, his mind racing with possibilities. “A while ago, Wonwoo 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.”

Jun smiles a bit. “How so?”

You hesitate, looking at Jun 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. Jun feels suddenly warm.

He shakes the feeling. “You say you like fighting as if it’s a bad thing.”

“Is it?”

Jun expects it to be rhetorical, but you meet his eyes sincerely. Jun 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 Jun.

“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 Jeonghan 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 Jun’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.” Jun watches the way you unsurely picks at your nails and the way your hair billows in the wind. “All I know is that after Jeonghan 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.”

Jun 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 Jeonghan, 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 the princes’ mother.”

You pause, and in the silence Jun 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, Jun.” 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?”

“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 Jun 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, Wonwoo, Hansol, Soonyoung, Seokmin, Seungkwan; hell even Mina would pull you out if she had the chance.” You manage a small, sad laugh, and the sound of it alone fills Jun 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 Wonwoo will be to hear all this.”

Jun 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 Jun,” you stop, your back still facing him, “it feels nice to talk with you again too.”

Jun is the Zalazar River in the fall. Bright red and burning.

***

Jun 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.”

Jun 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 Hansol?” Jun wonders aloud when a Risal swoops down from the sky the day you and Jun 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.” Jun 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 Seungkwan. It was an apology of sorts, though the words seem scattered and unsure. You huff, dropping the letter in your lap. Jun notices but doesn’t say anything, focusing instead on that cat that’s climbed in his lap.

You think about Seungkwan, the boy who you’ve known his entire life, and how well he grew up. Seungkwan 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 Seungkwan; he was quick to take interest in matters of battle strategy and war efficiency. Seungkwan 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 Seungkwan 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?” Jun 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 Seungkwan’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 Seungkwan then?” The question sounds hopeful.

“No, not at all.” You deny. “Seungkwan is like a child to me.”

“He’s only a few years younger than myself.” Jun says looking up, his eyes strangely dark. “Do you see me as a child too?”

You flick the letter. “I’ve known Seungkwan 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 Wonwoo by ages, and yet I see you both as equals.” You take a sip of your drink. “Plus, Seungkwan still acts like a child.” Jun smiles at that.

“Oddly enough,” Jun mumbles, bringing the full glass to his lips, “that makes sense.”

You think back to the letter, and sense fondness in Seungkwan’s apology. Something in your mind clicks.

“I was so mad at him,” You say to the air around you, “at Seungkwan. 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. Seungkwan can’t help how he feels.” You look up and find Jun watching you. “He’s apologized for what he can. But he can’t apologize for falling in love.”

Jun 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 Seungkwan, I’ll lose him as well.”

Jun 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 Seungkwan’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 Seungkwan 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 Seungkwan 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 she sends a Risal to the Golden Palace addressed for Prince Seungkwan.

—LORD JUN—

Jun 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 Seungkwan.

He waits a moment once you’ve finished. “Do you remember me telling you about my sister, Jennie?” You nod at his question, falling into the armchair near him. “Well, I just got this from her.” Jun 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,” Jun 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 Jennie lives on is pleasant. Jun humors you with stories of his childhood and of Jennie, and you listen to Jun talk as if your life depends on it. When they dock, Jun drags you to a bakery to buy candy and sweets for Jennie’s children and then some more for yourselves.

By late afternoon they reach Jennie and her husband Seungcheol’s house. Jun 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,” Jun says abruptly, taking your hand in his, “before we go in, I want to show you something.”

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. Jun 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 Jun 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. Jun loved the sea. But looking at you and the wonder in each one of your bones, he thinks you might love it more.

“Uncle Jun!” A voice yells from behind them. Jun 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 Jun. Elia nods enthusiastically. “And you,” you point to the younger boy, shyly hiding behind Jun’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. Jun 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 Jun and I brought you some sweets—“

The children pounce on the box before you can finish. Jun clutches his stomach in laughter.

“Jun!” Jennie 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 Jennie!” He yells back, getting up from the sand to greet his sister. “Children need sweets.”

Jennie scrunches her nose. “You spoil them too much.” She says before pulling Jun into a hug.

Jun leads Jennie 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. Jennie resposds that she’s napping and that Seungcheol’s watching her.

You stand up to greet Jennie.

“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,” Jennie coos, looping her arm with yours, “please come inside. Jun’s told me so much about you. I think we’ll get along wonderfully this weekend.”

***

Jennie, like always, is right. You and her get along wonderfully. After the kids are put to bed, you and Jennie begin talking in the sitting area, and in the span of your conversation, Jun and Seungcheol are able to finish not one but two card games at the kitchen table. Seungcheol puts up the cards while Jun watches you and Jennie 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 Jun takes much pleasure in watching two people he cares for so deeply talk and laugh together comfortably.

“Jun, you must stay here longer.” Seungcheol insists. “If not for the whole weekend, then at least for the day after Herschel’s party.”

Jun hesitates. “I don’t know. Wonwoo 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,” Jennie dismisses, you and her approaching the table, “Wonwoo 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 Jun’s eyes. “Forgive me Jun. I had no idea.” Jun dismisses the apology.

Seungcheol and Jennie 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. Jennie scoffs, turning dramatically to you.

“Would you mind humouring Seungcheol with an arm wrestle? He wants to see how well he can hold up against a Gift of the Spirit.”

Jun’s reminded of how a similar conversation between Wonwoo and you went. Jun inhales sharply, watching your reaction carefully. You surprise him by laughing.

“I’m no joke.” Seungcheol 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. Seungcheol takes it eagerly.

Jun likes this. How you tease Seungcheol. 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. Seungcheol yelps in shock, and Jennie hides snickers behind her hand while you laugh loudly and freely. You turn towards Jun, and the two of you share a look of your own.

And through the silent conversation, Jun knows. Wonwoo would have to wait a bit longer for your return.

—THE GIFT OF FORTITUDE—

The next morning you send a Risal to Wonwoo telling him that you and Jun would be staying for the entire weekend. He responds with a simple tell Herschel and Jun I said happy birthday. You do.

Later that day, Jennie requests you and Jun 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 Jun 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 look away from the adorable baby cradled between your arms, and your eyes land on Jun. Jun 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 Jun 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.

Suddenly, Devi squeezes the fingers she’s been holding onto, and in that moment, while watching Jun play with his sister’s children and while carrying Jun’s niece in your own two arms, you feel impossibly, shatteringly happy.

—LORD JUN— The birthday party had been a smash, with children appearing from every crevice of the house and cake smothered on Herschel’s face. Jennie and Seungcheol seemed happy with it. You seemed happy with it. The children seemed happy with it. And their happiness made Jun happy as well.

Tonight is another sleepless night for Jun, but since he isn’t home with a familiar rock to sit on, he heads to a balcony in Jennie’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 Jun 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.” Jun 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, Jun.” 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 Jun not telling you was an insult. Jun 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 Jun 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 Jennie and her perfect family. And how you want nothing more than to be normal. You tell Jun how much you wish you could take back being the Gift of Fortitude. And with each word that leaves from your lips, Jun 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 Jun can take away. No matter how badly he wants to.

He stares at you, frozen. And Jun thinks, not for the first time, about all the people you’ve lost. Chan, Jeonghan, your parents, the princes’ mother. 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 Wonwoo, 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 Jun 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. Jun’s coat suddenly feels heavy on your shoulders.

—LORD JUN—

Jun 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 Jun 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 JUN—

You stand like that for so long. You crying. Jun looking into the eyes of God. Your hand against Jun’s restless heart.

You stand like that until you rip your hand away. He lets it fall from his grip. “Leave me be Jun.” 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 Jun’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 Jun’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 Jun 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 Jun’s birthday inside playing cards, playing chess, and playing with the children. Jennie announces she’ll be preparing a feast for dinner. Jun 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 Jennie 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?” Jennie 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 Jun.” Jennie says it blandly.

You feel like the wind’s been knocked out of you. “For Jun?” You echo.

“Nevermind then,” Jennie 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 Jun will be delighted no matter which dress you come to dinner in.” Jennie leaves, and you ponder why in the world it would matter to Jun which dress you came down in? Then you wonder why Jun should take any delight in your appearance? The questions bring back a familiar sadness.

The bodice of the dress Jennie 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.

Jennie was right. Jun 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. “Jennie lent it to me for the night.”

“Ah,” Jun exhales, “that makes much more sense. I wouldn’t have thought this dress to fit your style.” Jun takes his seat, and you ponder yet again how Jun has come acquainted with what is your style and what isn’t?

The dinner is a feast like Jennie 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 Jun. 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 Jun 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 Jun follow you out.

It’s when you’re halfway up the stairs that he catches up.

“Please, Jun. 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 Jun follows you inside. “Please, just tell me if you’re alright.” Jun asks you so softly, so sweetly, it makes you feel impossibly frustrated. You wish Jun 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 Jennie’s red dress in your hands.

“I’ve always cared.” He sounds hurt, like the words have cut him.

“No Jun, 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.

Jun 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 Jun, 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 Jun’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 Jun 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 Jun’s head. But you do, you take comfort in this little action. In this little declaration of love.

You fling your hand out of Jun’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 Jun.

And suddenly, Jun is standing next to you. You can sense that Jun 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 Jun 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, Jun.” 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 Jun 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. Jun 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 Jun 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 Jun’s, and slip a letter under the door.

—LORD JUN—

Jun 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 Jun, 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

—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. -Jun

You find yourself thinking of the time after the death of Jeonghan. The time where you lived without love. The period of time that you’ve blocked from memory. Perhaps, Jun 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 Jun. 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 Jun 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 Jun 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 Jun 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 Jun 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 Jun’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 Jun’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 Jun again, really look at Jun. 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 Jun and see more than you’ve ever seen in him before. You look at Jun 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 Jun 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 Jun’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.”

—LORD JUN—

Jun 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.

“I’m not ready to wake up,” you groan, turning your body flush against Jun.

“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, Jun is jumping in his seat, ready to return home.

“You must miss him.” You mutter from next to him. Jun doesn’t have to ask to know you’re talking about Wonwoo. 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 Jun’s knee, “jumping from Angel’s Peak.” Jun laughs, capturing the moment and capturing your hand in his.

When you do eventually dock, Jun 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 Jun’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. Jun counts the seconds. One. Two. (You kiss him) Three. Four. Five. (He kisses you) Six.

You return to the estate finally, greeting Wonwoo drenched and swollen with love.

—THE GIFT OF FORTITUDE—

It’s the day after you and Jun return from Jennie and Seungcheol’s home that you and Wonwoo fight for the first time. In all honesty, you have been itching to fight with someone again ever since your talk with Jun. And when you told Wonwoo 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. Jun usually watches, sitting in a corner of the courtyard with a book. And when you feel comfortable enough to do so, you advance to Wonwoo attacking with jabs and punches here and there and you blocking them while also studying his technique. You learn that Wonwoo 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 Wonwoo 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, Wonwoo 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 Wonwoo 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 Wonwoo 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 Jun to watch.

—LORD JUN—

The days that follow are some of the happiest for Jun. Jun and you spend whole days in each other's bedrooms and under the sheets. Wonwoo 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 Jun must do work in his office, Wonwoo and you play chess in the corner. You continue to send Risals: to Seokmin and Seungkwan and another unanswered one to Soonyoung.

You and Wonwoo continue training without Jun 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 Jun return to his spot in the corner. And even Jun, who knows nothing about fighting, is amazed by your skill. Skill that is far too good to be fighting with Wonwoo, 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 Mina’s gossiping, that the Gift of Fortitude has fighting shows in the courtyard of Lord Jun’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 Mina asks you to teach her something. You make Mina begin immediately. And as it turns out you’re a wonderful teacher, although when Jun mentions this, you deny it telling Jun it’s only because you taught Hansol and the Princes. Nonetheless, you teach Mina 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 Jun’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 Jun 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 Jun 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 Seungkwan.

Dear Fortitude, I regret to inform you that father has been acting oddly again. Seokmin and I suspect that he might be preparing to try another ‘experiment’. Seokmin fears what’s to come if we don’t hear from Soonyoung soon. I take it you haven’t heard from him yourself. I’ve begun to worry for Soonyoung 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 Hansol and his squadron have been stationed near Lord Jun’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 Hansol a punch for me. -Seungkwan

You think a visit from Hansol 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 Wonwoo and Jun.

***

You’re in the kitchen with Mina eating fruit when Hansol arrives.

“He’s here.” Jun tells you, popping his head in the kitchen.

You snap up and look at Jun 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 Hansol is punch him, as hard as Seungkwan 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 Seungkwan.” 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 Hansol, Jun, and Wonwoo have all been properly introduced, the other two give you and Hansol some time to catch up. You take him to the beach for a walk.

“How long are you staying?”

Hansol sighs. “Not long. We leave in two days.”

You sigh as well. “That’s much too soon.”

“Yes, but in lighter news,” Hansol says, jostling you with his shoulder, “Seungkwan told me you two made peace.”

“We did.” You hum with a smile.

And so you continue to walk and talk along the shore. Hansol 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 Jun’s estate. You tell him about jumping from Angel’s Peak and learning how to swim. You tell him about Jun, Wonwoo, Mina, Jennie, Seungcheol, 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 Hansol the specifics.

Hansol 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 Jun?”

Your mouth drops, and you look at Hansol shocked. “Well, longer than it took you to put it together.”

You turn your head towards the water and wait for a wave to crash before responding. “I am.” The admission seems to make Hansol happy as well. “Also, I’ve been meaning to say, but I think it’s about time we fought each other, Captain Hansol.”

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 Wonwoo 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.” Hansol 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, Hansol laughs. The courtyard is filled with Jun, Wonwoo, Mina, the guards, Hansol’s squadron, the other Knights, and your students all awaiting the match between Captain Hansol, 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. Hansol 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, Hansol 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 Wonwoo, but the thought makes your blood jump with excitement more than anything.

You circle each other for a second, and when Hansol 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 Hansol 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. Hansol 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 Hansol 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 once the people in the courtyard realize it’s ended, they erupt in an applause.

—LORD JUN— “Does that hurt?” Jun asks you, poking at one of the bruises on your stomach that’s already turning purple and blue. You don’t even wince.

“Not anymore.” You say nonchalantly pulling the end of your shirt back down. It was only minutes ago that you and Hansol were pouncing on each other in the courtyard like wildcats. Hansol was so exhausted after the fight he probably would have passed out there on the grass if Wonwoo hadn’t dragged him back to his room to rest up. You, on the other hand, look as if you’ve only gone on an easy run. Jun walked you to your room expecting you to want to rest, but instead you’re laying on the bed with him looking rather awake.

“Are you even tired?” He asks.

You shrug. “About as tired as I am after our swims.”

Jun chuckles. “I suppose another power you wield is the inability to tire then.”

You hum, pouting your lips. “Does it make you upset when I’m fighting?”

“No. Should it?”

“No, it’s just that” you hesitate, “there have been certain men who would take offense when I fought in the past. They found it improper.” Jun snorts, dismissing the notion entirely. You look amused at his response.

He throws an arm over you. “Actually, it was nice seeing you struggle to win something for once.”

You roll your eyes. “You should see the other guy.”

“I did.” Jun says gravely. “And I’m afraid he won’t wake up after that fight.”

You scoff. “He’ll be fine. Plus,” your voice turns serious, “I actually did struggle to win that fight.”

Jun looks at you unamused. “Is that a joke?”

You lift your head from the bed. “What?”

“The fight didn’t even last five minutes. Hansol barely got in five good punches.”

“Exactly,” you defend, “that’s the most I’ve struggled in a fight since the Holy Wars.”

Jun drops his head back on the bed. “You’re unbelievable. I’m taking a nap now, goodnight.”

You roll him off the bed.

—THE GIFT OF FORTITUDE—

It’s at dinner with everyone that you tell Hansol all that you’ve remembered in the past months. You tell him about the Holy Wars and Lord Mark’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 Soonyoung the night before he left?”

You suck in a breath. Had you told him something else? Perhaps whatever else you told Soonyoung 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?”

“Soonyoung told Seokmin and Seungkwan before he left. Seungkwan told me. We all had questions for you. But Seokmin was always on some eastern campaign, and you and Seungkwan 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 Jun 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 Soonyoung that night?”

You look at Jun. Then Wonwoo. Then Hansol; he nods. All three watch you carefully.

Jun and Wonwoo look at you insanely, almost as insanely as you feel.

Hansol 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 Jeonghan, 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 Soonyoung.

And somewhere in the midst of recounting everything to Jun, Hansol, and Wonwoo, 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 Soonyoung. Because in your clarity, you see more than you’ve ever seen before. You know how to help Soonyoung 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, Jun, Wonwoo, and Hansol 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 Soonyoung.” 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. “Soonyoung will know.” You add before whispering his name to the Risal and watching the bird disappear into the night sky.

Hansol 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 Jun. Weaker than after your fight with Hansol. 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, Jun catching you in his arms before you hit the ground completely. You grimace into his shoulder. He says something to Wonwoo 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 Jun’s voice in your ear.

—LORD JUN—

Jun 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. Jun is no stranger to the fog in your mind, but at dinner something was different, off. When you first started telling Jun 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. Jun can’t even remember the last time you requested the migraine medicine from Mina. And more than that, you never seemed to forget what you remembered with Jun. But last night was nothing like what Jun 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. Jun 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. Jun can’t forget how lost you looked in your own mind and how hard you were trying to claw your way out. Jun 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, Jun asks if you’re feeling any better.

“Not by much.” You groan, dropping your hands on the bed.

Jun 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 Soonyoung?” You ask once you’ve reached the end. Jun 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 Jun 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 Jun are sitting at the rocks alone. It’s been months since anyone has heard from Soonyoung, so when the Risal lands on your arm dropping a letter in your lap, you’re more than just shocked. You read it silently.

“What’s it say?” Jun 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.”

“Jun.” 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. Soonyoung’s castle is northwest of King’s City, a day's worth of riding with a strong horse. You would ride with Hansol’s squadron to King’s City, and from there you would ride to Soonyoung 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 Jun's estate, and you most certainly don’t want to bid goodbye to the sea.

But you pack your bags instead, send Soonyoung a Risal telling him you’ll arrive at his castle soon. You say goodbye to Jun and Wonwoo that night. You and Hansol would be leaving before they wake. And later that night, you go to Jun’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 JUN—

Jun 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 Hansol’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 Jun’s arm. Only once he’s embracing you in his arms does Jun realize he’s crying. Hansol 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, Jun.”

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. Jun 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. Jun’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’ll come back, Jun.” 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 Jun watches you go, holding your last I love you to his chest.

a/n: i present to you my heart and soul, if you actually read this whole thing wow good for you this fic is way too long for it’s own good but i ended up getting attatched to too many of the plotlines to take anything more out. fun fact, this was actually an original work that I took some stuff out of and converted into a fic. there’s definitely more to come in this story but idk if i’ll ever get around to actually writing it. I just want to share that I’ve been sitting on this wip/world for literally a year now, and if anyone remembers that random soonyoung drabble that i posted last year it’s the same world as this okay bye

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rachelbethhines · 4 years

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TTS Songs Ranked Worst to Best

Someone asked me to rank my fav and least fav TTS songs a while back, but I’ve since then relistened to the soundtrack and there’s a whole bunch of songs that just forgot about, so here’s a more accurate ranking now that the songs are more fresh in my mind

32 . Life After Happily Ever After (Reprise)

This song is infuriating, because the finale is infuriating. Listening to this song just makes me angry all over again because it reminds me just how unsatisfying the ending to TTS was. I wanted to turn it off at several points. I barely can get through it despite it being so short. It doesn’t help that the soundtrack leaves all the dialogue in there and fails to actually end the song. It just cuts off before the final note.

31. Hook Foot’s Ballad

Does this even count as a song? Why is it here on the soundtrack but not the Hurt Incantation? Did Menken really waste his talent writing a joke and did the showrunners really waste money and limited resources on this?

30. Friendship Song

Bland, boring, and pointless. It was clearly written as a marketing stunt for the radio disney charts and not as anything to do with the plot of the series. They just throw it up on screen to fill out the running time and don't even let the whole song play through. It’s pitiful.

29. Waiting in the Wings (Reprise)

I didn’t think much of the original song one way or the other, but the reprise is soooo dumb. The plot twist it introduces winds up ruining the whole show and sabotaging both Cassandra’s and Rapunzel’s characters. It’s not even a nice sounding song on it’s own. The kid’s voice is irritating (who I’m sure is doing her best, but really little kids shouldn’t be made to sing professionally as a general rule) and the melody just as bland as the first time it was played. The only reason to like this song is if you’r a mega fan of Cassandra’s or her VA, which I am not. (Note: this is not a criticism of Eden Espinosa, I just don’t happen to follow any of the VAs in this show)

28. Through It All

I like the instrumentals in this song, and that’s about it. Everything about this song is wrong. It doesn’t fit the story, it’s a misuse of the cast and songwriters, it’s a waste of valuable screen time, the melody is dull, and the dang soundtrack had to throw in that lame dialogue about ‘greatest threat ever’ at the beginning. If you want a pump up song in your story then you got to earn it. You can’t just tell us things are bad, you got to show it. A joyful horseback ride and everyone sitting in a bar safe and sound isn’t threatening or depressing enough to warrant a cheering up session. Plus the song itself doesn’t add anything to the overall story.

27. The Girl Who Has Everything

Sometimes I think the writers were willing trying to sabotage themselves. It’s as if they were determined to make the only two main female characters in the show unlikeable bitches in season three. Don’t believe me? The creator Chris has said this song only exists to highlight how much easier Rapunzel has things than Cass and went onto say that Rapunzel was in the wrong during their conflict because ‘she held Cassandra back’. (Oh yeah she totally ‘held back’ the grown woman who left on her own accord, returned on her own accord, and then assaulted and tried to murder a bunch of people for no reason of her own accord.) But this song does succeed in furthering season’s three narrative that Rapunzel is a spoiled selfish brat. Shame the story fails to address this setup and never has Rapunzel learn to be a better person. Rather the narrative bends over backward to tell us how special Rapunzel is without any sense of self awareness and this song falls into that same trap; making it both irritating and pointless.

26. Listen Up

Yeah, I talked about this on my salt marathon, but I just don't like this song very much. The melody is fine but the lyrics are a real miss in my mind. It doesn’t help matters that the song is indeed pointless in the grand scheme of things.

25. Livin’ the Dream

This is much on the same level as Listen Up as it features the same problems. It doesn’t add to the narrative and the lyrics kind of let it down. I placed it higher just because I like the melody a little more.

24. More of Me

This song is a lot like the Friendship Song in that it was created to be an end credit song for the pop charts and you’d be forgiven in forgetting it even exists. However, it at least got to actually play all the way through. I think this song was a real missed opportunity. I honestly believe that it should have been the opening theme song of the show instead of Wind in My Hair. It’s more built to serve such a purpose and it’s a waste of resources not to actually use it. Alternatively, I would have accepted it being reworked into the actual series as a character song. Especially since we’re missing a song in season three due to budget cuts.

23. Wind In My Hair

Speaking of theme songs, I think I would like Wind In My Hair a lot better if i didn’t have to listen to it every episode. On its own it actually has a lot of things going for it; a nice melody, interesting instrumentals, good singing, ect. Unfortunately it’s just over exposed, and none of those elements lend themselves naturally to an intro song for a tv show. In fact the theme song feels really out of place and is edited oddly to fit the shorter intro.

22. Wind In My Hair (Reprise)

Honestly the theme song is mostly comprised of this reprise, but it has the opening instrumentals from the OG song frankensteined onto it. This means that the version that plays before every episode is on fullblast all the time to keep the energy up, but that’s not how the song is suppose to go. The actual reprise that plays in the pilot builds to a crescendo, starting soft and melancolony and getting louder and more hopeful and determined. It sounds a lot better in full because of that. It’s still too overexposed though. Both these songs would probably be higher on the list of not for the theme song version.

21. With You by My Side

This song is fine. It’s nothing special, but it’s not bad either. What knocks it down the list is the fact that Lance isn’t in it, despite Lance being right there. Like don't bother hiring a famous Broadway singer if you’re not going to have him sing! But that speaks more to the poor writing of season two than anything else. This song also doesn’t really add anything to the narrative as, contrary to what the writers intended, it doesn’t actually enhance the emotional impact of Cassandra’s betrayal later in the episode. The song itself is just tacked on and doesn’t take the opportunity to lay down any foreshadowing for that plot point.

20. Next Stop Anywhere

Another perfectly serviable song. It’s not bad but nothing outstanding. It gets the job done. It’s also really ho-hum and the soundtrack keeps all the unneeded dialogue, which is a pet peeve of mine.

19. Waiting In the Wings

Despite it’s hype, I never thought much of Waiting in the Wings. It’s got nice instrumentals and Eden Espinosa gives it her all in the singing department. The problem is it’s too generic. It’s a bare bones basic ass ‘I want song’. Cassandra's movations are weak and unsupported by the narrative, the melody is boring, and it honestly doesn’t add anything to her story. I mean it should, it’s her character solo, but because she’s written so poorly the song just winds up undermining the character in the end. All I’m saying is that, this is not the song from season two that I would have nominated for the Emmys. But it’s still Alan Menken, it’s still nicely performed, and given the rest of the competition for that year, it did deserve to win.

18. If I Could Take That Moment Back

This song is also pretty generic, but it’s less boring than I See the Light, (yeah, I said it, I See the Light is boring) so that’s a win in my book. Ergo this holds the title of the only New Dream duet that I enjoy. But there’s better stuff on this list.

17. Next Stop Anywhere (Reprise)

Well no, I take that back. The reprise of Next Stop Anywhere is also technically a New Dream duet. It’s still not anything amazing, but it works for what it is. Plus, Adria’s opening dialogue in the soundtrack version doesn’t bother me quite as much as some of the other dialogues choices that were kept in.

16. Stronger Than Ever Before

I really enjoyed this song in the moment. It’s catchy and fun, and it finally has Lance doing something rather than ignoring his existence. However it is borderline unnecessary in terms of story placement, and I’m slightly mad at it now that I know that we could have gotten a Rapunzel and Varian duet but it was scrapped for this instead.

15. Crossing the Line

Keeping with the theme of ‘songs I have conflicting emotions about’, we have Crossing the Line. This song is confused. It starts and stops, the melody isn’t clear, the orchestration is playing tug of war with the singers for dominance, and it’s basically Alan Menken and the show’s creators ripping off Frozen. (I guess he’s kicking himself for leaving that particular project?) But it’s interesting. I never heard anything quite like it. It’s memorable even if it doesn’t fully work. It’s got these interesting bits and pieces to it that just never quite comes together as a whole. Some of the lyrics are some of the best Glenn Slater has ever wrote and is far better than the story actually surrounding the song. Yet there’s other lines that are total cringe. Sometimes the song is bold and catchy and gets you all hyped up, and then other times its limp and staggering and feels so awkward to listen to. Yet it’s not boring or generic and so I have to place it higher than the rest of the songs that’s come before. (Also, there’s some amazing orchestral covers out there that really pulls together the various parts really well, just fyi)

14. Nothing Left to Lose

I really don't like this song. I’ve been one of its biggest critics ever since it was leaked by the marketing team earlier this year. And yet... I can’t in good conscience place any lower on this list. All of the problems I have with it are the exact same problems I have with Crossing the Line. It’s confused, the various pieces don't line up, the instrumentals are competing with the vocals, the song’s progression is weird with it’s constant key changes, some of the lyrics are good while others are absolute shit, ect and so forth. It also actively works against the story it's trying to tell. The song wants you to sympathize with Cassandra, but her lines are as shallow as a puddle and makes her look like a sociopath. Especially when she’s physically attacking Varian through out for no reason. Also neither character learns anything from the exchange and it fails to impact the story. By all accounts this is a bad song. But I’m Varian trash. There I said it. You happy? Varian’s parts in the songs are fine, good even, and the song is anything but bland. I would rather listen to a mess then be bored to tears by a competent yet standard four chord pop song.

13. I’d Give Anything

This song is nice to listen to. Story wise it absolutely sucks and shouldn’t have been in the finale at all. But it sounds pleasant. This is one of those songs that could pop up randomly on the radio and I would just think it it a nice sad break up song. I can’t say that about some of the other misplaced songs in the show. This one however, you can very much, absolutely divorce this song from the narrative and it would be fine. Now that’s not good writing, and it’s very much a waste of limited resources, but I’m rating the music here first and story second.

12. Buddy Song

The Buddy Song also absolutely did not need to exist but it also sounds nice. Plus, it makes use of Lance so I’m a little more lenient towards it. I can’t however place it higher since it really is just Alan Menken ripping off Alan Menken. Like, I would not be at all surprised to find out that this was originally a deleted song for Aladdin or something.

11. Bigger Than That

What can I say, Lance just gets good songs. When the show bothers to give them to him. Unfortunately, it’s not the best placed. It kind of interrupts the more important drama of Be Very Afraid, and probably should have been saved for a later episode. Especially since it hinges on a plot point that is contradictory to Lance’s character. We should have gotten a Varian and Rapunzel duet here and given Lance his own episode in the second half of season three. This song could have easily been refitted into being a bonding moment for him and the girls. That would also have filled out the season’s original songs to the usual eight instead of only seven.

10. Life After Happily Ever After

Now we’re getting to the good stuff. The top ten. The best of the best. This song makes the cut for three reasons. 1. It lyrically and musically interesting 2. It does the job of furthering the story and the characters and 3. Eugene’s part is so damn good. Like this song could have easily fell down into the ranks of ‘fine but generic’ if it wasn’t for the bridge with Eugene. That puts it over the top and to my mind makes it better than anything from the OG film. (well almost anything, Mother Knows Best is still great) This is the barometer by which I measure all of the music in the series. Is it better or worse than Life After Happily Ever After? Because this is the level that I equate good musicals with. What keeps on the tenth spot and not higher is the dialogue that still left on the soundtrack and the lack of a Cassandra introduction. That and also the rest of the songs are just flat better.

9. Hurt Incantation

Hurt, Decay, Reverse, whatever you want to call it, this was such a cool fucking concept. One that was utterly wasted by the show. I place this so high because it just sounds awesome! It looks good too, and it offered up so many possibilities from a story perspective. What lets it down is the lack of follow up for it and it’s too short. There’s needed to be another verse. It also should have been on the actual soundtrack instead of Hook Foot’s Ballad. (The Heal Incantation also was sung in What the Hair, but I’m not counting it since it was written for the film)

8. The Girl Who Has Everything (Reprise)

I hate the initial song and the set up that it took to get here, but I love this reprise. It’s perfect. This is what the story needed more of. Rapunzel taking her life into her hands, and her proposing to Eugene would have been the perfect capstone for her arc. In fact I’m angry we didn’t actually get that. There’s absolutely no reason why Rapunzel couldn’t have done so and we could have had her and Eugene engaged during the second half of season three. How much better would have it been if Cassandra threatened their wedding plans and that’s why they couldn’t go through with it until after the series ended? So much more tension that way.

7. I Got This

This is a really good song that actually futhers the characters and the narrative. Moreover it’s refreshing to see the heroine not be perfect and to fail sometimes due to her own inadequacies. It’s just a shame that the series didn’t follow through with this set up, but I appreciate the attempt all the same.

6. Set Yourself Free

This is the only song in the series that’s an actual satisfying pay off for anything. Music wise it’s nothing too special, but in terms of context it just works. We were sorely deprived of such resolutions and songs with actual meaning in the show.

5. View From Up Here

This song is too good for the episode it actually appears in. We needed something like this back in season one to introduce Cassandra with. It also sadly doesn’t fit with the wider narrative after season three. However I shall still appreciate it as a ‘what might have been’ type song.

4. Let Me Make You Proud

The only reason why this song isn’t higher is just overexposure and I’ve no one to blame but myself for that. I’ve listened to this song way too many times. As such it tends to alternate between this, View from Up Here, and the next song on the list. But make no mistake it is glorious. Fantastic instrumentals, set up, and of course amazing vocals.

3. Everything I Ever Thought I Knew

Yes, I know this plot point didn’t lead anywhere, but it works for this song at least. Also Eugene’s VA is a really underrated singer. He sounds nice and he emotes really well. Though I’ll be honest, this jumped up to third place because it was fresh in my mind after listening to the soundtrack before making this list. I’ve always liked the song and I do rate it highly, but it can change places with Let Me Make You Proud and View from Up Here at anytime depending on my mood.

2. Let Me Make You Proud (Reprise)

This song is heartbreaking! Story wise it probably shouldn’t exist because it gives away the twist too soon, but who cares, it’s awesome! Varian’s arc is the most compelling in the show and the only thing that saves TTS from falling into mediocre obscurity; and it’s songs like this that help make the arc stand out even more than it already does.

1. Ready As I’ll Ever Be

I said it before and I’ll say it again; Ready As I’ll Ever Be is the greatest thing Alan Menken has ever written in his entire career! If you know anything about the multiple award winning songwriter then you know that is no faint praise and I do not dole it out lightly. This song is the reason why this show even has a fanbase. People are still getting into the series because of this song. And no matter how many times you listen to it just rocks! It’s complex, layered, moody, and with a fantastic beat and energy. The performances are wonderful and the instrumentation glorious. It belongs in the hollows of Disney’s greatest hits and not regulated to a spin-off tv show that failed to make its money back. I weep for the lost potential that this song and this show had. It hurts to know that so many people will never see this flash of brilliance that has come out of the House of Mouse, will never know the wonderfulness that is Varian. Ah, ‘c'est la vie’, I suppose. Tangled the Series got what it deserved, but it's crew did not. While I can not in all honesty recommend the series in full; I do sincerely urge any Disney fan to check out the songs at the very least. Especially this one. And that’s it. There’s my official ranking of all the songs, and I hope those of you read my Tangled reviews appreciate the hours it took into making this.

#tangled #tangled the series #rapunzel's tangled adventure #varian #rapunzel #eugene #cassandra #lance #alan menken #Disney #disney music #disney songs

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elianthvia · 3 years

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7 Reasons Why I Quit

(only for a little bit)

It has, alas, been another few weeks since I posted. I have an excuse for my unpunctuality: I've been spinning non-stop like a top. The conclusion of the last Zoomester and the start of summer are to blame. I have seven partners in crime.

Culprit 1: Puppetry Workshop

Towards the end of the year, DTI (Design Thinking Initiative), in collaboration with the Theatre Shop, hosted an in-person puppetry workshop where a small number of people could participate per covid protocols. In-person events were few and far between this semester, so of course I rushed to sign up. The workshop ran for about 2 hours on three consecutive Mondays. We met in the theatre shop inside Mendenhall Center for Performing Arts.

The first day we made shadow puppets (and mine was a bee); the second day we made hand puppets (mine was a ... cyclop ghost king?); the third day we made marionette or string puppets (I attempted to make a teru teru bōzu, but everyone thought it a ghost). I had a lot of fun trying different fabrics, re-learning how to use a bandsaw, and magically joining things together with the help of a hot glue gun. (Side note: Polymer chemistry is the magician behind the scene, and I will be learning more about the science of hot glue guns in the polymer class I am taking next semester!) The workshop was surprisingly not as popular as I anticipated, maybe because people were busy as the semester came to a close. The good news is that DTI will be running the workshop again in the fall so more people will get to participate.

(Is she a ghost or teru teru bōzu?)

Culprit 2: Spring Piano Recital

I did not expect to attend a live concert this semester, but I was invited to the spring piano recital as a "special guest." It is a habit I developed while working as a concert crew at Sage, to sit outside the Sweeney Concert Hall and listen to the rehearsals after I finished setting up the stage. That day I was going to do homework outside the concert hall while waiting for my performing friend to finish. The piano instructor spotted me and asked me if I wanted to join. Disbelieving in my good luck, I accepted the invite. About ten students were scattered in the almost empty concert that felt sad and lonesome, but soon music filled the air. I thoroughly enjoyed every performance. Lots of Chopin were played, but my favorite one is Rhapsody in Blue which just entered the public domain this year. All pieces are about or more than a century old, which is not a surprise, but refreshingly, there is a piece by a female composer, Amy Beach, whose granduncle co-founded Bates College. You can find the full program here.

Culprit 3: End of Classes

The end of classes was epitomized by professor-resembling pixels on our computer screens bidding us goodbye. Usually professors would plan something fun for the last day of classes, virtually as well.

I remember last semester my Multivariable Calculus professor changed his virtual background to a wall of donuts, explaining that during the pre-pandemic times he used to bring a box of donuts for students on the last day. This semester in Mathematical Methods for Physicists and Engineers, we explored the applications of Fourier Transform by looking at the velocity of a star and detecting the number of planets around it. Our last Circuit Theory lab was in person, where we got to listen to a song/piece of our own choice through the low pass filter and the high pass filter pictured below. The professor handed out prizes (cool items she accumulated in conferences) to students to reward them for their participation in the pre-class trivia games. I received a mini glow moon. In addition, our circuits professor left out end-of-class fun packs with origami papers and stickers outside her office. Our last Organic Chemistry lab was also in-person, where each lab group presented their experiments and findings (through a projector rather than Zoom screen share!) My presentation group decided to dress up for this special occasion after a long year of virtual school. Lastly, for Organic Chemistry, we played organic chemistry jeopardy in our last lecture.

With all the professors wishing you a happy summer, you start daydreaming about the sunny beach and breezy wind. Oh wait, you still have final exams to take. All in three days!

Culprit 4: Final Examinations

This semester we had a three-day final exam study period (or reading period) when professors are not allowed to assign any homework or set deadlines. Right after the reading period is our final exams. Smith is known for its flexibility when it comes to exams thanks to its Honor Code system. Many exams are self-scheduled. Some are open-notes, and some are untimed. In a normal year, students go to Seelye Hall to print out and take the exams when they feel prepared.

For the classes I am taking this semester, I had three hours to take my Math Methods final, a whole day to take the Circuits Theory final, and the entire finals period to take my Organic Chemistry I final. Besides the exams, I had several other writing assignments to turn in. I was very fatigued at the end of the semester, so even though I only had three exams, I struggled to muster up mental energy to study. To make things worse, I got my second Pfizer shot during the reading period and had a pretty bad reaction. As a result, I asked the class dean to give me an extension on an exam, which was generously granted, and I was gratefully less overwhelmed.

Culprit 5: SmithCycle

The finals are now over, but my vacation didn't start yet. I am staying on campus for a few extra weeks to work for SmithCycle. SmithCycle is a program that collects, sorts and redistributes gently used dorm items students donate in the move-out process at the end of each school year. It gives purpose to items of reusable value and creates a more sustainable campus. In the past week, we have collected hundreds of bags (no exaggerations!) of items. Besides clothes, books, school and dorm supplies, some of the unexpected items include coffee makers, brand new water filters, and a monitor. One of my coworkers commented that first-years shouldn't have to shop clothes hangers again while they were going through three boxes of donated hangers.

The winter clothes we collected are going to the International Students and Scholars Office. They have an event called Winter Clothes Closet every fall where international students "shop" for free to help them get accustomed to the New England weather. School supplies will be moved into the Common Goods Resources Center which CEEDS hopes to launch in Fall 2021 (very exciting!). I cannot plug SmithCycle enough. If you are an incoming first-year, visit the Common Goods Resources center before you head to Target!

I have always been interested in sustainability and renewable energy and want to get more involved. When I saw the SmithCycle worker position posted on Workday, I immediately applied. Every SmithCycle worker's job varies. I am mainly responsible for washing and drying the linens and blankets. When waiting for the washer and dryer, I help with unloading the van that circulates between houses to pick up bags of donations. I also help with sorting. Pictured below is the inside of Scott Gym where all the items are currently stored.

Culprit 7: Summer Housing

As college transitions into summer, students who are staying on campus for some part of the summer had to move out of their spring housing assignment into their summer housing. I moved from Chapin, the house in central campus, to Capen, which is on the periphery of Smith. I know Chapin and Capen sound alike, but they are very different houses location-wise and personality-wise! To make up for its distance to the academic buildings, Capen House has its own garden, Capen Garden. The garden a gorgeous place many current Smithies are missing out on. There is a mini fountain, hedges, a garden temple, a plant arch, and a bizarre owl statue. Look at the last picture of the garden in this blog, and you will agree with me that the Paradise Pond is overrated.

Built in 1825 and acquired by Smith in 1921, Capen House is named after Bessie Capen, the second woman to be admitted to MIT. She taught chemistry at Smith College. Fun fact: Bessie Capen was once the associate principal of the Mary A. Burnham School for Girls, now Stoneleigh-Burham School; I went there for horseback riding lessons during my first year at Smith. Small world, right?

Case Closed

Thanks for reading this long-ish explanation. I hope my tardiness in delivering this post may be justified by the causes above. To compensate, I will write about my other summer plans and updates in the next few weeks. Stay tuned! Meanwhile, enjoy your summer!

#puppetry #piano #music #finals #smithcycle #capen house #capen garden #summer #pfizer #college #Smith College

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misssquidtracy · 4 years

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A Tail of Whoa

A pick-me-up for @i-am-chidorixblossom, starring Virgil and Kayo. Not proof-read, but I hope it makes you smile.

Raw humour (a bit on the crude side in places, but sometimes that’s just what life calls for).

Very slight language warning.

Plot: Virgil decides to sharpen his dating skills on Kayo and try and one-up his brothers in the process.

-x-

Kayo met Virgil as instructed in Thunderbird Two’s hanger at six on the dot. She’d followed his advice and was wearing some comfortable cargo trousers paired with flat boots.

Virgil meanwhile, was wearing his usual casual ensemble. Plaid, plaid and more plaid. Kayo’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. He’d lose brownie points for that.

Virgil remained oblivious to Kayo’s displeasure with his wardrobe choice, opting instead to open Thunderbird Two’s hatch, before holding a hand out and bowing slightly, “Ladies first.”

Kayo grunted and hopped into the passenger seat, nose stuck in the air like an aristocratic ostrich.

“No drinking tonight,” she announced sternly as Virgil clambered in after her, “We’re back on the roster in nine hours.”

Virgil threw her a lopsided grin as Thunderbird Two taxied over to its launch ramp, “Oh don’t worry. Where I’m taking you, they don’t have alcohol.”

That piqued Kayo’s interest.

-x-

Gordon shielded his eyes against the sun as Thunderbird Two blasted away from Tracy Island, a devious grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Alright, they’re gone!” he announced, vaulting over one of the sofas as he scurried back into the den, “Time to plug in!”

Scott, who’d had his head stuck in the fridge, glanced up and frowned, “The mini cam is already wired in and good to go. Virgil said their ETA should be around half six, so we can start live streaming then.”

“Where are they going?” Alan asked, popping the top off a can of soda.

“Montana I think,” Scott replied, emerging from the fridge with a plate of leftovers, “I wasn’t really listening when Virgil told me.”

Gordon meanwhile, was busy tinkering with several gadgets that he was trying to link into the den’s holoprojector. In his hands were five different remote controls of some description. The aquanaut punched a fist in the air when a signal was established between the remotes and whatever devices they controlled.

“Scott, can you start streaming now please? I have something I wanna test out before they land.”

Scott frowned, but put his plate down with a sigh and did as ordered. Seconds later, the forms of Virgil and Kayo sat in Thunderbird Two ‘s cockpit appeared.

“Patch in the sound as well, please,” Gordon added, biting his lip as a smile the size of Spain threatened to engulf his face.

Scott obeyed, and Virgil’s voice began to echo around the den.

“So Kayo, I notice that you’re quick to chastise us for our lack of dating activity, but tell me, when was the last time you yourself went on a date? I don’t see you leave Tracy Island for anything other than work.”

While Scott and Alan were preoccupied with listening to Kayo’s reply, Gordon seized one of his remote controls and stabbed one of the buttons on it.

*Fart*

Brothers one and five blinked in shock as a rather vulgar sound reverberated around the den. Meanwhile, on the hologram, Virgil shot Kayo a poorly masked look of horror.

After an awkward second of silence, the engineer tried to resume the conversation.

“Ahem…anyway Kayo, as I was saying-“

*Faaaaaart*

“Geez woman, I get that you might be nervous, but I’m not that scary!” Virgil snapped, twisting his head around to stare at his colleague in disgust.

Kayo, meanwhile, looked equally outraged, “It’s not me you idiot! I thought it was you!”

Virgil gave a splutter that lacked any sort of dignity, “Me? Who do you think I am?! I’m not Gordon!”

At the mention of the aquanaut’s name, Scott sent a shell-shocked glance in his brother’s direction. Gordon was sat on the sofa, proudly brandishing his controller. As if to confirm Scott’s thought, he pressed one of the buttons with an air of flourish.

Another massive toot echoed around Thunderbird Two’s cockpit.

“Fart machine,” Gordon proudly announced, tossing the controller in the air and deftly catching it, “Got four of ‘em stashed all over Thunderbird Two. Virg won’t be looking like such a pro by the time he lands!”

Entranced by anything featuring crude humour, Alan snatched the controller off Gordon and began excitedly smashing the various buttons.

*Fart Fart Faaaaart*

The youngest exploded into hysterics at the expression on Virgil’s face. The engineer looked torn between being utterly mortified and utterly disgusted, “Kayo! For goodness sake, ease up on the ration bars, or whatever the hell you’re eating back there!”

In a state of embarrassed fury, Kayo wrenched off one of her boots and lobbed it at Virgil’s head, clipping him around the ear and causing Thunderbird Two to momentarily launch off course as a result.

“For god’s sake Virgil, this has Gordon written all over it! I’m going to do a quick sweep, he must have stashed away some whoopee cushions that he’s activating remotely.”

Gordon felt panic rising in his chest as Kayo quickly located each and every one of the fart machines he’d hidden throughout Thunderbird Two. Determined to go out on a high note, the aquanaut started stabbing the buttons on each controller in rapid succession, letting loose a long string of artificial flatulence as Kayo expertly located and disabled each machine.

*Fart Fart Fart Faaaaart Fart Fart Faaaaaaart*

Virgil looked as if he were hanging on by a thread as he brought Thunderbird Two in to land, his eyes rising to the heavens as if silently begging his ancestors for strength. By the time he’d opened the hatch and hopped onto solid land (after Kayo of course, because he was a gentleman), he was regretting his decision to choose an activity that didn’t feature alcohol.

-x-

Any reservations Kayo had felt prior to leaving Tracy Island vanished in a flash as she followed Virgil away from Thunderbird Two.

Fart machines forgotten, Thunderbird Shadow’s pilot allowed her inner child to squeal in delight as green eyes clapped onto a corral full of horses.

“A ranch?” she asked, her jaw hitting the floor as she drank in the unfamiliar sights, sounds and smells, “What are we doing at a ranch?”

“You’ll see,” Virgil answered with a suave smile, leading Kayo towards a large barn at the end of the corral they’d landed near.

Back on Tracy Island, Gordon, Scott and Alan stared at the holofeed in stupefied silence.

“Wow…” Alan muttered, sinking onto the sofa in awe as a farmhand handed Virgil the reins of two gorgeous black mustangs, “Geez, I never would have thought of something as cool as going horseback riding!”

Scott gave a low whistle, “He’s set the bar pretty high, that’s for sure.”

Gordon meanwhile, was practically drooling, his love for animals overshadowing his rivalry with Virgil, “Ah man, I’d have packed Thunderbird Two full of apples instead of fart machines if I’d known that was where they were going!”

Kayo looked similarly thrilled. As part of their extensive and ongoing training, every member of International Rescue knew how to ride (some better than others), however it was Kayo who was the secret authority on all things equine.

Virgil was by far the best rider of his brothers, and swung up onto his horse with practised ease. Kayo vaulted up onto her own with evident excitement.

“Reckon she’ll ditch him and go off with the horse instead?” Scott asked, snorting with laughter at his own joke. Gordon made a sound of humorous acknowledgement, but was busy staring at the hologram with an enigmatic expression on his face.

Alan, meanwhile, was utterly enthralled. His blue eyes were wide and his chin was propped up on his hands as he drank in the dramatic Wild West views the spycam was capturing. The fluid motion of Virgil and Kayo’s horses as they glided over the dramatic terrain only captivated Alan further, sucking him into the romantic tension his brother was expertly creating.

Without tearing his eyes from the scene in front of him, Alan hastily reengaged the audio feed and started to eavesdrop on Virgil’s and Kayo’s conversation with rapt interest.

Gordon grunted something about Virgil being ‘old fashioned’, before changing his mind and dropping the ‘fashioned’ to just leave ‘old’. Bored already with the horses and the scenery, the aquanaut shuffled off to the kitchen in search of food, the enigmatic look refusing to leave his face.

On the holofeed, Virgil was pointing towards a rocky outcropping that he and Kayo were cantering towards, “That’s Mount Grinnell, one of Glacier Park’s most iconic mountains. People travel from far and wide just to witness the beautiful sunsets from its peak. The Nakota tribe used to perform san dance rituals at the base of the mountain to pray for good health. Some people say being present at the peak when the sun just starts to set will grant good fortune. Fancy a look?”

Kayo’s eyes looked set to pop clean out of her head, “After that history lesson? Race you up there!”

Scott sighed wistfully as both Kayo and Virgil’s mounts exploded into a gallop, “Man, he is smooth. I mean I’m thinking about going!”

Alan meanwhile, was busy scribbling down every word that left Virgil’s mouth on a piece of scrap paper, pausing every now and then to make side notes on body posture and facial expressions.

“Nice topline, good flanks…” Virgil called as he drew level with Kayo.

“Nice topline, good flanks…” Alan repeated, frantically scrawling for all he was worth.

Scott, who’d been munching his way through his plate of leftovers, lifted his head and frowned, “He’s talking about the horse, Alan. Not Kayo.”

Over in the kitchen, Gordon threw back his head and laughed as Alan hastily crossed out half of his notes, his face the same colour as Thunderbird Three.

As Virgil and Kayo began their ascent up Mount Grinnell, a freshly showered John suddenly materialised from the bathroom.

“What did I miss?” the redhead asked as he glided down the stairs, squinting at the scene that was being broadcast in the middle of the den, “Is that Mount Grinnell? And are they on horseback?”

“Yes and yes,” Gordon replied, slapping some slices of bread onto a plate, “Fancy a peanut butter and jelly sandwich? I can make extra if you’re hungry.”

“Guys!” Alan leapt to his feet as if he’d sat on a firework, “They’ve stopped and dismounted!”

John frowned, “They can’t have summitted that quickly. They must have stopped to rest the horses.”

Alan didn’t care, his attention back on cataloguing Virgil’s every move.

“This could be crunch time!” Scott exclaimed, rubbing his hands together in anticipation as he retook his seat on the sofa, “Let’s see what ‘pro bro’ does when faced with a romantic sunset.”

Gordon choked on his PB&J sandwich, however managed to regain his composure with a quick thump to the chest. Taking a seat on the sofa next to Alan, the aquanaut seemed unable to keep a straight face as he absently crammed the remainder of his sandwich into his mouth.

Alan and Scott meanwhile, were transfixed. Even John was leaning over the back of the sofa in interest.

“Reckon he’ll go for some lip action?” Scott asked, sighing as if he were watching a romantic movie.

“Maybe,” John replied, tilting his head slightly, “You know how competitive he is.”

“Eww!” Alan cringed, visibly disturbed, “You don’t reckon he’ll do that while we’re watching, do you?”

Like an owner instructing a dog to poop on command, John pushed himself vertical and pointed towards the staircase, “Alan, this content might not be suitable for you. Kindly go to bed.”

Gordon barked a laugh at the youngest’s outraged expression, however was quickly hushed by Scott.

“Guys, I think it’s going to happen!”

Four pairs of eyes returned to the holofeed, which was showing a sunset almost as beautiful as the ones seen from Tracy Island. Virgil obviously had his arm around Kayo and Kayo was obviously leaning into him, looking every inch like a besotted teenage girl. Their horses were tethered to a nearby tree, tails swishing calmly.

John and Scott held their breath as Kayo scooted her face closer to Virgil’s, while Alan dove under a cushion for cover.

5…

4…

3…

2…

1…

*Fart*

John’s jaw went slack, while Scott dropped his bowl of leftover lasagne onto the floor, the china shattering on impact.

On the livestream, Virgil and Kayo’s horses reared up in fright at the unfamiliar noise. Before Virgil could so much as locate the fart machine that had somehow been stowed in his back pocket, both horses snapped their reins, spun around and bolted off into the distance.

Alan rounded on Gordon, who was predictably clutching another remote control. John, who’d been absent for the first round of flatulence-induced drama, hastily connected the dots in his head before slapping a palm over his face.

Scott looked about as crestfallen as if his favourite hero had just died. Alan made a mental note to remind his brother that it wasn’t a movie they were watching.

“Gordon…explain,” John instructed wearily, sighing as a headache began to taunt the back of his eyes.

Gordon merely gave the redhead a cocky smile, before tossing the remote control over his shoulder and into a potted fern, “I stashed an emergency fart machine in Virg’s pocket in case things started going too well. Survival of the smartest, not the smoothest.”

A loud string of profanities started to echo around the den as Virgil and Kayo watched their mounts become dim dots on the horizon.

“How are they going to get home?” John asked, tapping the holoscreen, “Aerial scans show that they’re over ten miles from the ranch.”

“Can’t they bring in Thunderbird Two remotely?” Scott suggested, ignoring the high-five Gordon was exchanging with Alan.

“Virgil’s not wearing any of his gear,” John replied grimly, “He’s no way of activating the remote controls.”

“Looks like they’re walking then!” Alan observed, beaming gleefully as the language Virgil and Kayo were throwing began to travel south.

“I’ll go and pick them up in Thunderbird One,” Scott sighed, jolting slightly when Gordon suddenly clamped a hand onto his shoulder.

“You undo my work, and you’ll be next,” the aquanaut threatened, motioning to the horse-less Virgil and Kayo, “Don’t underestimate me, Scott. I can cause real damage.”

Quickly weighing up the risks in his mind, Scott came to a snap conclusion and remained firmly seated on the sofa.

“I don’t want to be anywhere near here when they eventually get back,” John exclaimed, pushing himself away from the sofa and heading back towards the stairs, “I’m off to enjoy a sleep in a proper bed. ‘Night guys.”

“Night!” Alan and Gordon called absently, not tearing their eyes (or ears) away from the livestream for a second. Virgil was shooting the hovering mini-camera a glare that could have stripped the paint clean off Thunderbird’s Three and Four, however Kayo seemed blissfully unaware of its presence.

Gordon and Alan stared on regardless.

“At least they’ll have a good tale to tell when they eventually get home,” Scott began, sniggering as Virgil and Kayo’s exchange reached screaming point.

“Yeah?” Gordon asked, absently hoovering up a couple of stray sandwich crumbs.

Scott grinned wickedly, “A Tail of ‘Whoa’!”

FIN

#thunderbirds fanfiction #fanfiction #thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fan #thundernerds #thunderfam #Virgil Tracy #Scott Tracy #Gordon Tracy #John Tracy #alan tracy #kayo kyrano #thunderbird two #tracybrothers #tracybros #tracy brothers #tracy bros #thunderbirds fandom

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tiredcowpoke · 4 years

Text

TITLE: Blank Spots [12] PAIRING: (Somewhat pre-established) Arthur Morgan/Fem!Reader, could be seen as an OC. REQUEST: Unprompted. BLURB: After waking up at the base of a steep incline and nearly freezing to death, you stumble upon a group of strangers who swear up and down that they know you. WARNINGS: Some creative license for amnesia, light angst? NOTE: Here’s the twelfth chapter of this. I hope the pacing is alright near the end, I struggled a bit but hopefully it’s good! TAG LIST: @on-my-way-to-erebor / @otherthingstoreid @ireallyhonestlydontcare @elanisha @darlingsdevil @cirillamylove @bunnyreese12 @rollyjogerjones @callmemythicalminx @r4reland

“Well, turns out I was right. We got more places to visit.”

He hadn’t been gone more than a minute after you had watched him lower himself down onto the ledge, disappearing around the side of it to go find whatever was hidden on the side of it. You still felt shaky on your feet, hands shaking a bit but you were glad that Arthur brought with him a quick distraction. Arthur pulled himself back into the surface of the cliff, holding a worn piece of paper with some jewelry wrapped around his fingers. Letting curiosity try to drown out the tight feeling in your chest, you stepped closer to him as he opened up the map.

Looking upon the drawing there, the location didn’t stick out to you at all. It appeared to be pointing toward three structures, some sort of water source in the middle. It didn’t appear to be on top of a cliff again, thankfully.

“I know this place, too,” Arthur remarked after a moment, looking at the drawing again before nodding his head, “Ain’t too far, but it’s still a trek. Probably would have to make a day of it.”

“How much of this have you explored?” you asked, some amusement sitting in your tone despite that. You knew Arthur was gone from camp a lot, you just assumed it was mostly on jobs for the gang.

Though, you supposed doing things like this was still working for the gang, considering at least your earnings from this would be going back into their pockets.

“Not too much,” he replied, shrugging, “Still haven’t been able to see what I make of the new camp.”

“Still better than me,” you said, stepping back as Arthur tucked the map into his satchel.

“You wanna go find this second piece?” he asked, causing you to shrug. Noncommittal in nature, but really you were more than willing to keep away from camp for a bit.

“Sure, it’s not like I have anything pressing to do back there as of yet. Though, if you need to turn back around then I’ll follow. You’re the one with the direction out here anyway, it seems.”

“I can afford a day for this, I guess,” Arthur replied, shifting to walk back toward the edge you both had climbed up from, “Ain’t got anythin’ pressin’ either. Though, I imagine Dutch’ll find somethin’ soon enough.”

“You still got to get that Micah back to camp?” you asked, causing him to cast you a curious glance. In the moment, you couldn’t help but wonder how much he remembered sharing a couple nights ago after he had leaned into the bottle a bit.

“Been tryin’ to ignore that for as long as I’m able, but yeah…” he replied around a small sigh, pausing to slip off a small drop. He stopped in walking for a moment, watching as you did the same with a small grunt. Really, you were relieved to be on even ground again, trying to shake off the lingering effects of that memory.

You accepted that answer from him, deciding not to pry too much into that situation as Arthur pulled himself back up onto his horse. Getting onto your own, you followed after him as you tried to let that odd moment from before slip from your focus. You weren’t too sure if that was confirmation that you had fallen or if that was your anxiety about what happened showing itself again. What about that gunshot, though? You were pretty sure that was in your head. Though, you didn’t have the time to wander down that path or shove it from your mind, it seemed.

“You okay from what happened up there?” Arthur asked after a few minutes of relatively silent riding, causing you to bite the side of your cheek as you glanced off toward the passing trees for a moment.

“I just made the mistake of looking down, got scared.”

“Seemed a little more than just that,” he continued, glancing back toward you over his shoulder somewhat, “Looked like for a moment there you was workin’ up to punch me.”

Ah, shit. Right. Really, that whole thing felt like you weren’t in control, just acting on the first instinct that crossed your mind. You just felt the hand around your arm and turned around without much thought.

“...I’m sorry,” you said around a sigh, “I wasn’t really thinking. I remembered myself falling and I just reacted. I was panicking, I guess.”

“I understand,” Arthur said, waving a hand slightly, “That been happenin’ a lot?”

“Not really, no,” you said, shrugging, “Most of the time things just seem familiar, they usually don’t happen like that. Must have just been the height.”

You saw Arthur nod his head lightly, seeming to accept the situation at that. Really, you were kind of relieved that he was leaving it be, and really you wanted to move on from it. That embarrassment still burned somewhat in your gut, much as you knew that it shouldn’t. You were just tired of feeling scared and confused about everything, the newness of the situation had been stepping off somewhat.

Really, with knowing that your remaining family wouldn’t be accepting you back into their lives after that whole debiting business, you figured you would have to step into this life. Again. Though, with the state your memories were in, it might as well have been your first year with them all. Yet, you couldn’t do that and you knew it. Not with what you agreed to do in regards to your relationship with Arthur and memories and feelings that did filter in from somewhere you couldn’t put your finger on most of the time.

It was what it was.

You continued on at a steady pace up toward the mountains, the Grizzlies as Arthur had pointed out, heading up toward these springs that he was sure the map was depicting. Considering your unfamiliarity, you would have to take his word for it. Though, you were starting to become more aware as to why Arthur had been quick to point out getting your own horse, considering the work horse you had rode around on for the last while really wasn’t quite fit for the journey. Some guilt sat in your gut over that, making sure to slow down some and not push him too hard unless you had to for the time being.

By the time you arrived at the springs, the sun was getting a little lower in the sky. It was still warm enough to suggest that it was early evening, but nightfall would be quick to follow. Still, upon riding up into the area, the stone structures on the map were not all that hard to find. Deciding to give your horse a couple moments, you slipped off your horse for a moment to take in the area.

Much as you wouldn’t be in a hurry to call yourself an adventurer, you couldn’t help but admire the beauty of the scenery. The mountains, the trees. The springs were warm, the water a sharp blue and green as you could feel the warmth coming off the water once you got close enough.

“All I can remember from growing up was the desert. Everything’s a lot more...bright out here,” you commented, almost as an aside to yourself. However, you heard Arthur walk up beside you after presumably getting off his own horse.

“Yeah…” he muttered in return, causing you to glance toward him a moment. After that hung in the air by itself for a few moments, you assumed he wasn’t going to say much else on that until you heard him continue, a touch of longing in his voice.

“Really do miss bein’ out west, though. Open country, the heat. Felt...closer to the sky. Less people, less rules…” Arthur let out a small exhale, something close to a bitter chuckle if you could even call it that. “Though, maybe that ain’t all like I’m rememberin’ it.”

“That sounds a lot nicer than what I remember of it,” you replied, tilting your head as you studied the water in the spring a couple steps off from you. “I remember the relentless heat unless it was raining, dust and sand that would get everywhere. My dad used to complain about it all the time. Though, maybe Tumbleweed isn’t the best example.”

“It really aint,” he said around a short chuckle, “Would like to get back out there again, but with how far south Dutch has us headed, I ain’t so sure if that’s what I can expect no more.”

“Maybe he’s just biding his time,” you said with a soft shrug, not too sure what his intentions were yourself. You weren’t in that circle, much as Arthur was. Though, considering his uncertainty, maybe Dutch wasn’t sharing everything with him anyway.

“Sure.”

You shifted back, turning to glance over at the rocks you had rode all the way up there for. A good couple hours on horseback, you had some hope that there would be more than just another map and some jewelry. Catching the shift in your attention, Arthur turned around before rummaging around in his satchel for the map again. You moved closer to look at the drawing again, taking a moment to place everything together with the area around you. With a couple of steps backwards, you looked over the rocks for a moment before pointing toward one near the back.

“Looks like it’s that one.”

“If you’re so sure,” Arthur said, gesturing his head toward it somewhat, “You can do it this time.”

You gave a soft chuckle and smile at his comment, though you were somewhat grateful at doing something other than just making commentary this whole trip. Much as you had been trying to stop kicking yourself about that cliff, there was that frustration there. So, you walked toward the rock structure in question, moving about it curiously for a moment before you seemed to find an opening. Bending down and sticking your hand in the hole, sure enough you found another map and some bills.

It wasn’t much--another tease to keep you on the trail. Still, with the jewelry and the money, it would be a good start to getting that debt off your shoulders. At least, once you split it between the two of you. It was only fair.

“...Think I might know this place, too, but might be a bit too much for this trip,” Arthur muttered, “Looks like it might be near that place Hosea and I tried huntin’ that bear.”

“Bear?”

“You ain’t heard ‘bout that?” Arthur asked, some amusement in his tone, “Took me out there back at Horseshoe, talkin’ ‘bout some legendary bear. Huge feller. He weren’t wrong, but we didn’t hunt much of anythin’ that trip. Seemed it got the better of him, never seen the old man cower so quick when it came chargin’ at us.”

“Poor Hosea.”

“Poor me,” Arthur returned around a chuckle, “I were the one havin’ to shoot at the beast for it to take off while he was hidin’ behind some rock. Though, figure I should be the one tellin’ you ‘bout all that before he starts addin’ some twist to that whole thing over a campfire one night.”

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind so he doesn’t take your glory,” you said around a small chuckle in return. “You think we’ll make it back to camp today?”

“If you’re up to travellin’ through all this in the dark,” Arthur said, turning to glance toward the sky for a moment, “Figure we could set up camp tonight, make it back by afternoon if we leave in the mornin’.”

“That would probably be easier,” you said with a small shrug. Honestly, the trip was starting to wear on you a bit, in a good way. Much as there was that one hitch earlier.

“Guess if I get on it right away, I can probably hunt us somethin’ for the night,” Arthur said, accepting that as he turned back toward his horse.

“I’ll find a spot and get a fire going,” you said, earning a short nod as he removed his bow and you wandered off toward your horse.

***

Nightfall was a lot closer behind than you had been expecting, managing to set up a fire just as the last rays of day started to disappear behind the trees. The air cooled as you managed to build the flames up enough to last for some time, allowing you time to get your horse settled and place your bedroll by the fire. With Arthur gone momentarily, it allowed you to lay back against it, face upturned to the sky.

You had to admit to some relief at the knowledge that the day was ending, but it was a mixed feeling all the same. Going back to camp, despite it being as safe as it could be, left a strange pit in your stomach. You felt almost lighter out where you were, a set goal in mind that wasn’t washing shirts and refilling basins. Perhaps you needed that while you healed, but…

Hell, you didn’t quite know what else you could do.

There was also that bit of a memory from earlier that was weighing on you, a part of you wanting to pick it apart. You knew you had done so pretty deeply with the one that resurfaced during Sean’s party, turned it this way and that in your head while trying to figure out if your mind was playing tricks. It had given you enough to know that it was truthful, that it didn’t feel as empty or made up as any other thought you had in trying to continue it. (Which did feel strange sometimes, imaging kissing him and the wandering thoughts on if it would feel different now. A thought that pulled some embarrassment out of you and had been something you pushed out of your head quickly enough.)

You could do the same with the one on the mountain, but...you were scared. You had to admit that to yourself.

Though, the fact that you were and how overpowering it was seemed to say a lot on its own.

You let out a small sigh, rubbing your hands over your eyes for a moment before looking back up at the sky. It was darker out, now, and you could make out a few stars. Though, you found your head lifting at the sound of a horse approaching from behind, causing you to sit up. However, you relaxed as you recognized Arthur as he hitched his horse next to yours.

“Got a rabbit,” he said, pulling said animal from the side of his saddle, “Ain’t much but it’s enough. Should get somethin’ bigger for Pearson on the way back tomorrow, though.”

“Rabbit sounds fine,” you replied, leaning back again somewhat as Arthur set about preparing the rabbit he had hunted.

You watched him while he did so, the evening darkness playing with the light from the fire against his face. Arthur usually looked somewhat tired, and you didn’t need to know him for too long to know that he ran himself ragged for the gang. He was sharp edges and rough, he had a bad side to him and you knew that. Even if you hadn’t experienced that first hand, with Arthur’s own words about it and Dutch’s reliance on him as a strong arm, it wasn’t hard to piece together. Though, you figured it was only a matter of time before you witnessed that.

There was also this other side to him. The patience and openness he showed you about this whole thing, the protectiveness of the people in camp--much as he had his own gripes with a few of them. That loyalty, even with the threat of death, as you saw at the river with those agents a while ago. There was also the man before you now, more relaxed than you had seen him be yet, even with the concentration he was showing in cooking that rabbit.

Was this what you saw in him before?

You had no idea. You had no idea what you were like now in comparison to how you were, having to rely on other people’s word for now on that. You could remember that conversation up in the snow.

‘...I’ve seen you do more than just threaten with that gun…’

“You keep starin’ holes in the side of my head and I’m goin’ to think there’s somethin’ wrong.”

You blinked, catching Arthur’s gaze out of the corner of his eye before you let out a somewhat awkward chuckle, bowing your head somewhat to study the toes of your boots.

“It’s nothing, I’m just thinking. Sorry.”

“Hell of a thought you must be havin’ if my ugly mug ain’t pullin’ you out.”

“You’re not ugly,” you remarked so easily that it almost surprised you, “and it’s really nothing.”

Arthur let out a small grunt, something that you weren’t sure on if it was him accepting that or dismissing it. Considering how quick he had been to put himself down, it might have been the latter. Still, you were somewhat grateful that he let the conversation go, offering you the rabbit once it had cooled from over the fire before setting out roasting his own.

It was plain and unseasoned, but with how little you had ate that day, it was more than enough.

“Did we used to do stuff like this?” you asked once you had finished eating, some curiosity getting the better of you.

“Treasure huntin’? No. Could never find the maps. Though...you was a bit of a wanderer, used to be in and out of camp quite a bit. I’m surprised you lasted this long before askin’ to get out.”

“Well, I guess that explains a bit,” you said around a small chuckle, “I’m kind of dreading going back to camp.”

Arthur let out a chuckle, one that seemed warm, less sarcastic or humorless like you had heard before. Though, there was a touch of bitterness.

“Way things are, I don’t blame you.”

You let out a small chuckle, taking in a breath to say something more but a loud rumble overhead pulled you from that thought. Arthur shifted, glancing toward the sky off to your left before letting out a quiet curse and rising to his feet.

“I have no idea where that came from,” you muttered, just able to make out the clouds in the gathering darkness.

“Well, guess I’m usin’ the tent after all,” Arthur said, moving back toward his horse, “Unless you want to take your chances catchin’ your death by sleepin’ in the rain out here.”

“No...No, I think I like that better,” you muttered. Already almost froze to death once before.

The tent didn’t take too long to set up, more thunder rumbling overhead as Arthur did so. So much for falling asleep under the stars to a calm night, though you hoped the rain wouldn’t be too much if it did fall. You gathered up your bedroll from the ground once it was set up, Arthur putting his own in first. The tent was small, but enough to fit the both of you for the night without getting soaked by the rain.

You crawled in first, laying yourself down somewhat as Arthur sat himself down near the opening in the tent. You watched for a few moments as he pulled out that familiar book you saw him writing in from time to time. Not wanting to seem intrusive, you shifted to lay down on your side facing him, focusing on the sounds of the woods around you and the rumbling thunder. You were trying to ignore the bit of a chill that was creeping in and the smell of wet earth.

Though, Arthur’s small sigh pulled your attention toward him, glancing over as he spoke.

“Couple nights ago, when I was drinkin’...” he started, “I...I’m sorry I said that. Weren’t right.”

“I...I mean, that was rough to hear. I can’t lie about that. Though, I forgive you. Not much to forgive, I wasn’t holding that against you.”

“Still shouldn’t have said anythin’. It was the whiskey, I always end up sayin’ nonsense.”

Speaking of not saying anything, you could feel the question bubbling up. A part of you knew you shouldn’t have said anything and yet…

“...So you don’t miss me? That was the whiskey?”

Arthur paused, glancing toward you to meet your gaze for a moment before glancing back down at his journal. “‘Course I do. Might not make sense, you’re right here, but…”

“No, that makes sense,” you returned around a small sigh.

“My feelin’s don’t matter in this situation anyway, so--”

“No, they do,” you interrupted, sitting up as you tried to piece your words together. “You...you might seem like a stranger to me in some aspects, though maybe not so much as before. Yet, I know that’s not the same for you. We’re not two strangers. It...It hurt to hear, but I do want to know things like that. I have no idea where you’re at half the time. Half the time I’m wondering when you’ll give up the chase.”

You hadn’t expected the words to come out, a part of you immediately wanting to shut your last sentence back behind your teeth.

“Give up the chase?”

“...Here I go, saying things I’m regretting…” you muttered, pressing the heels of your palms against your eyes as you let out a heavy sigh through your nose before dropping them to speak, “I feel so complicated when it comes to you. I...feel something. I don’t know what it is. I don’t want to act on it because of that. That’s why I pushed you away, much as I remember us kissing once.”

“I wouldn’t push you into anythin’, that’s why I’m apologizin’ for that whole mess. I weren’t thinkin’ straight.”

“I know you won’t,” you replied with a nod, “I just...I know some people would have left and I...if it happened earlier, I probably wouldn’t have felt much. Yet, with what you told me about Mary, I just…”

“You want me to leave?”

“...No,” you replied, glancing up to meet his gaze as you swallowed thickly, “There’s that something, now. I just...I know it’s hard. You don’t need to apologize for that.”

“You feel somethin’ for me?”

Shit, was this even coming out right? It was true. It was the only way you could explain why you were still there. Why you felt so conflicted about leaving when you had the chance, perhaps. Why it hurt to think of him leaving you for that ex-fiancee of his. Yet, you knew it wasn’t something you were ready to act on in any way.

You found yourself nodding anyway. For a few moments, you were nervous on what you should do or say next. However, there was a weight lifted, like you figured out an answer to a question you weren’t sure you wanted to ask yet.

That feeling only continued when Arthur just nodded his head, glancing down toward the closed journal in his lap.

“...Kinda relieved to know that,” he said after a moment, letting out a small huff as he glanced toward you, “What I told you about what happened with Mary, I still mean what I said. I’m tryin’ if you’re tryin’, as complicated as the whole thing with Mary is. This too, I suppose.”

“...Okay,” you said around a sigh, nodding your head, “I wish I could be more sure, but…”

“I understand,” Arthur said around a small chuckle.

That put a small smile to your face, causing you to nod again before you shifted back to lay down again. You could still hear the thunder, the rustling of wind through the trees. Though, the light scratching of pencil against paper also added to the space, eventually lulling you into a sleep as the first drops of rain started to hit the ground.

#my writing.#arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader

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farfromparker · 4 years

Text

Erotas - Chapter Four | t.h.

Erotas Masterlist

Pairing: Tom Holland x Female Reader

Summary: It’s the day of the rehearsal dinner and Tom finally meets your whole family

Word Count: 3.9k

A/N: Originally, chapters 4 and 5 were going to be one long ass chapter, but I split them. 😈

Special thanks to @worldoftom 💞💞

Tom wakes up slowly, peacefully. The soft roar of the ocean pulling him from his slumber. Gulls call out sporadically and his eyelids flutter open. The morning sun basks the room in a warm glow. The bed is empty and he sits up, ignoring the relief he feels when he sees you sitting out on the terrace, fingers curled around a cuppa. He watches you watch the sea for a moment, you look calm, the soft curve of your lips as you smile softly is his first sign. Your eyes slide shut and you tilt your head up to enjoy the sun on your skin.

He wants you to have this moment so he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t move from the bed, not wanting to interrupt. He glances behind himself to the clock on the nightstand, it’s almost 9am, meaning it’s not even 7am London time.

He wonders how long you’ve been up.

You set your cup on a side table, starting to get up and he gets tangled in the sheets as he tries to get out of the bed quickly. He can’t get caught staring at you, not after last night. The embarrassment stings just as much as it did when it happened. It wasn’t even anything sexual, it was a game for fuck’s sake. You joked if off, and he did his best to not let it become a Thing™️ but he can’t help but fret over what you thought when it happened… what you think of him now because of it.

“Morning, Tom,” you chime, smiling as you step into the room.

He clears his throat, strangling the embarrassment sitting in his chest. “Morning, darling. How long have you been up?”

You hum. “I think I got up just before eight.”

He wants to ask if you’ve been up since before 6am London time because your family is flying in today, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t need to.

He nods instead. “What do you want to do today then? We’ve got the whole day to ourselves, right?”

Your eyes light up as come to set on the corner of the bed, he follows suit. “Yeah! I was looking up some things earlier. We can go scuba diving! There were a few other things, but they’d take up too much of our day considering dinner tonight. Or, the hotel has an infinity pool with a swim up bar if we just want to drink. There’s a cute shopping district too just a couple minutes walk from here.”

“What would take up too much time? We’ve got all day tomorrow too, right?

Realization dawns across your face, “Oh yeah! Um, horseback riding or parasailing need a good chunk of our time, they’re both a little ways away from the city. The parasailing place is actually on the other side of the island.”

He nods. “Okay, so we could do one tomorrow and the other on Saturday? What’s your plan for that day?”

“Well, hopefully be properly hungover.”

His eyes crinkle. “Right, yes, you’re right. So I won’t lie, I don’t think I want to parasail or ride horse if I’m hungover.”

You shake your head in agreement. “No, definitely not. I think Saturday we can just say goodbye to my family? Walk to the beach and swim, lay around…”

“Yeah, that sounds good to me. So which one do you want to do tomorrow?”

“I was thinking, if we go scuba diving today, we can go horseback riding tomorrow?”

“I’m game for all that!” And as he watches you smile, looking genuinely happy and excited, he starts thinking of ways he can keep that look on your face for the rest of your life.

Your American Champagne Breakfast arrives after a quick call down to the front desk and both your mouths start watering as the attendant brings in the cart. Food is piled high, waffles with three types of syrup, bacon, sausage, an assortment of colorful fruit along with a fresh blend of juices from apricots, peaches and nectarines. There’s another bottle of champagne as well, but you both agree to keep that for later, best not to drink and dive.

You leave the room just before 10:30 and head down to the beach, tummies full, swimwear on underneath a small layer of clothing to keep your modesty. You had called ahead to make the reservation and they had a slot available for their 11am shore dive.

There’s a trail from your hotel that leads down to the sand beach below. Tom watches you take your shoes off as soon as you get off the gravel path, digging your toes in the sand. He copies you, tossing his shoes in the backpack he’s got slung over shoulder, putting yours in there as well.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve gone diving,” you share, turning to him as you amble along in the sand.

“Me too, my brothers and I went when we were in Italy two years ago for a family vacation, but I haven’t gone since.”

He watches you squint your eyes, thinking. “It’s about the same about time for me too. We were in Spain for —” You gesture vaguely with your hands. “Something like this.” You shrug. Tom can’t decide if you don’t actually remember, or if you’d just rather not talk about it. Regardless, he doesn’t push.

“I’ve got a feeling this dive is gonna be a good one,” he continues. Glancing up ahead, he can see the shack on the beach, with a diving sign hanging above the door that’s a bright red and white, so there’s no way to miss it.

“The company is definitely better…” you pause, eyes a little wide as though you didn’t mean to say that outloud. But you don’t backtrack. “At least for me.”

He touches your hand with his and says quietly. “Yeah, me too.”

An older gentleman greets you outside. You’re a good 15 meters from the entrance when he appears, but he’s smiling and waving at you nonetheless. He’s got short white hair and a very bushy white mustache to match.

“Geiá sou, Kaliméra! Good morning!” he declares.

“Good morning,” you call back in unison.

He shakes your hands when you get to him, smile wide across his face, “You are my only divers this morning! But it is a beautiful day for a beautiful couple to enjoy the beauty of the Aegaen!”

Tom wonders how many times he’s said that line to however many different people, but that doesn’t stop himself from smiling because of it. The man, who introduces himself as Tavi, ushers you inside to get you checked in. He’s got all the equipment you need, regulators, fins, masks, BCDs, the list goes on.

His eyes light up when you both say this isn’t your first dive. “Experienced! Polý kalá!”

There are lockers along one wall with combination locks. Tavi advises you to strip down to your swimsuits and he opens a locker for you, letting you shove your belongings in your bag and secure it inside. He helps you into your equipment, checking gauges and getting your air tanks hooked up properly.

“I have an underwater camera as well. I can take pictures of you two while we’re down there.”

Tom smiles. “Great, thanks mate!”

“You two should remember this! Now, it will be an odd walk to the water,” he chuckles, belly jiggling softly as he laughs. “Do not put your fins on until we get down there. You might fall and not be able to get back up.”

As Tom stands, BCD strapped across his chest, tank fully hooked up, he’s reminded of how heavy and awkward this equipment is out of the water. He’s sure he’d be able to get back up if he fell, but he’d rather not test that theory.

You mumble as you stand, hunched over. “Fuck me, I forgot how heavy this stuff is.”

Tavi laughs, grabbing fins for himself, watching as you two do the same. You get down to the water's edge with minimal struggling. The water is warm, Tom had been slightly apprehensive when Tavi shook his head at the idea of wetsuits, but he was right, this feels like bath water.

You float out a little, just enough that you can get your fins on. Tavi does one last check of your gauges, has you breathe through your regulators. When he’s satisfied, he goes over the hand gestures so you can communicate safely underwater.

Regulators secured, masks snug against your face, you slowly descend.

An hour and a half later, you break the water’s surface. Tom peels his mask off, imagining a red pressure ring around his eyes, matching yours. You lock eyes with him and smirk.

“Tavi?” you ask, looking over to the older men.

He raises his eyebrows, indicating for you to continue. You swim over to Tom, reaching for him to wrap your arm around his waist as best you can and hold him close. Tom instinctively does the same to you.

“Take a picture, we have to remember our matching raccoon marks.”

Tom smiles wide, eyes crinkling as Tavi laughs, reaching for the camera secured around his wrist. He snaps the picture, smiling as you all start your climb back up to his diving shack.

“I can’t believe you thought that barracuda was a shark!” you say, laughing.

Tom pouts slightly, pulling the backpack up further on his shoulder as the two of you walk back to your room. “Did you see the teeth on that thing? I didn’t want anything to do with it!”

You laugh harder, mimicking the movement he’d made under water, something akin to his signature fight reaction when he’s scared. “What?” You giggle some more. “Were you gonna knock it out?”

“That’s what you do! If a shark is coming after you, you punch it!”

“But it wasn’t a shark! And it wasn’t even coming after you. I hate to break it to you, Tom, but you’re a little bigger than the fish they normally eat.”

“They’ve bitten people, okay? I was just prepared. You wouldn’t be laughing if it tried to bite me and I punched it. You’d be telling me how smart I was!”

“No, I’d be laughing at the fact that you punched a fish.”

You get back to the room and order a light lunch. It’s already almost 2pm, but you’ll both be weak by dinner if you don’t eat something now. Tom starts to worry about what to wear; your whole family will be there tonight and he wants to look the part. Another piece of him deeply wants their approval as well.

He lies to you when you ask how many outfits he brought with for this, saying it was only three when in fact, every nice shirt he owns is in this suitcase. He sees you pull a black and white dress out of your bag, hanging it up near the door and looks back into his suitcase.

You step up behind him, chin on his shoulder. “I like the red one.”

He turns to look at you, smiling. “Red it is.”

You let him shower first and he’s in and out in under five minutes. It’s just past 4pm now and he hears your music start playing through the speaker on your phone as you shut the bathroom door. He hums along while he gets dressed, buttoning up the floral red shirt. He wants your opinion on his pants, though. He’s got some really nice dark denim jeans, but there’s also a white pair of pants. So he heads out onto the terrace in his boxer briefs, shirt not buttoned all the way, leaning against the balcony and watching the water.

You step up beside him, “Pantless? My family won’t ever forget you.”

He laughs and he can feel his cheeks heating up a little bit. “I uh — I wanted your opinion on which pants I should wear.”

And you follow him back into the room, watching as he digs out the two options. He turns to you, one in each hand, and his breath catches in his throat for a moment. He didn’t look at you out on the terrace, but here, now. You’ve got your dress on, the top is fitted, extenuating your chest but draping elegantly around your hips. Your hair is still wet and you’ve got no makeup on. Eyes bright and open and happy.

Absolutely stunning.

“White, definitely,” you confirm and for a moment he forgets what you’re talking about.

He swallows. “Right, white. Sure, thanks.”

He gets ready quickly, pulling on his pants before fussing with his hair in the mirror over the dresser. You’re back in the bathroom, also fussing with your hair, doing your makeup. You step out about fifteen minutes later.

“Tom? Will you help me with this clasp for my necklace?”

He nods. “Course, yeah,” and he takes it from you as you turn your back to him. He reaches his arms up and around your neck to let the necklace lay delicately along your sternum. His fingers brush along your skin and he can see the tiny hairs on the back of your neck standing on end. He fights a smile, liking to see even the smallest reaction of your body to him.

“Thanks,” you say as his hands fall away, turning back to smile at him. You take a deep breath. “I think we’re ready.”

He nods confidently. “We are, and you look stunning. I mean — I thought you did before, too, when you didn’t have makeup on. Like, you don’t need makeup — uh, not that it's wrong to want to wear it but —”

You laugh, reaching out to grab his forearms to keep them from continuing to flail around his face. “Tom, I get it. Thank you, really. Now, let’s get down there and head straight to the bar.”

The sun is low in the sky as you walk down to the beach and Tom can’t stop himself from stealing glances at you.

There’s a huge tent set up, sparkling fairy lights hanging beautifully from the ceiling, a portable floor is laid down, tables and chairs placed strategically around a dance floor. There’s a table towards the back where a number of chefs are lining up food for the night.

“Wow,” Tom mumbles.

“Ava’s dad is a doctor.”

Tom hums in understanding, following you into the tent. There are two bar carts in opposite corners of each other. There’s a short man grabbing a glass of whiskey and Tom watches as he sees you, eyes lighting up. He grabs his drink and hurries over to you.

“Heya, stranger!” he says happily, pulling you into a hug.

“Vinny! It’s so good to see you again!” And Tom breathes out a sigh of relief.

Vinny releases you and turns to him. “And you must be Tom, nice to meet ya mate!”

“Hey Vinny, yeah, nice to meet you too!” And he shakes his hand and then the introductions start. It seems like that simple handshake was enough to alert the whole tent that the two of you had arrived and suddenly they start swarming around you.

Tom will be honest, he definitely thought you were making your family out to be worse than they actually are. At least he did until he met them.

First, your Nana Ruth slides in the comment Oh, I thought he’d be taller. And Tom hasn’t been insecure about his height since he was 17, but the comment still causes him to raise his eyebrows in surprise.

You aren’t perturbed, though. “He’s taller than me, Nana, that’s all I care about.”

Then he meets your aunt Brigitte. She kisses both your cheeks and he can see the tightness in your face when you try and smile at her. She kisses his cheeks as well and Tom’s skin crawls when she gets a little handsy.

“Oh he’s very pretty, dear. How did he wind up with you?” she says, laughing.

Tom wants to slap the lipstick right off of this woman’s face.

“Lucky, I guess,” you comment, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the bar.

“I’m gonna smack that woman into next Tuesday if she says something like that about you again.” He growls into your ear, hands curling into fists at his side.

You look at him and it’s a look that catches him off guard. He’d expected you to be mad, annoyed, or upset in some way. But you’re looking at him with so much affection he feels a little light-headed. His hands automatically relax as your fingers slide down his forearm so you can link your fingers with his.

“I would pay good money to see you hit her.”

Louis corners Tom as you’re all about to have dinner, asking what he thinks of the Prime Minister and Tom side steps into how well Liverpool is playing. You smile at him and let Louis go into it for a moment before interrupting him about the dinner starting soon. Louis promises to find Tom later so he can tell him about how Bayern has definitely been playing dirty all season.

Ava and Alex hug you both and Tom relaxes around the two of them. He knows them, he likes them. They sit and Ava is adamant that you sit next to her and you gladly do, Tom taking the obvious spot next to you. A moment later, he recognizes your parents at the opposite end of the table. Your dad raises his drink at Tom and Tom returns the gesture.

One thing you left out when talking about your family was how big it was. There’s a sea of unknown faces around him, asking questions and leaning over the table to get a look at him. He feels like a stud being inspected at auction.

Your hand falls softly onto his lap and he breathes easier as he wraps his fingers around yours. Dinner is served, but Tom has trouble finding time to eat because the questions don’t stop.

How did you two meet?

What do you do for a living?

Where did you grow up?

How long have you two been together?

And Tom doesn’t mind answering them all because he likes talking about your relation— friendship. Your friendship.

Brigitte opens her mouth again and Tom tenses before any words even leave her lips.

“I am surprised that the two of you are an item. She’s just kind of plain. Never really seemed all that into the boys either.”

Her twit of a husband agrees. “Yeah, we always thought she was one of those asexuals.” And he says it like he’s talking about a unicorn. Like it’s something that doesn’t actually exist.

And Tom can’t believe what he’s hearing. The fact that people this idiotic are still spewing ignorant, condescending hate makes him want to yell. But he’s smart enough to know you can’t argue with stupid.

Then he remembers a comment you made the night before, you’re gonna have to make a dirty joke to shut them up.

He turns to you, eyes locking with yours, because he doesn’t need to say this to them. He needs to say this to you. Because you’re the only person that needs to hear this.

“I guess she was just waiting for something that was worth it?” he starts. “Whatever it is, she’s amazing, the most genuine person I’ve ever met. She makes me so damn happy. And I might have helped trigger something in her, something that let her bring her guard down and let me inside.”

He’s looking at you as he speaks, and it feels so real. He can see the emotions swimming in your eyes, his hand in yours. He can feel the eyes of your family on the two of you but he can’t stop looking at you, and you’re staring back, smiling at him.

His voice gets louder now though because this is the part they need to hear. “And she did let me inside, she does let me inside…” His eyebrows raise for a moment, to help accentuate the dirty joke. “Pretty frequently actually.”

And you smile wider, laughing as you hear the uncomfortable noises from Brigitte and Joe, the gasp from Nana, the murmur around the table of what did he just say? You lean in, and so he does as well, pressing his lips to yours, but it’s hard to keep the kiss going because neither of you can stop smiling.

“Fuck, I can’t wait to get you back to the hotel room.” And he’s not sure he heard you correctly. The question has to be written across his face, but he can’t ask it, not now. So he keeps smiling, keeps squeezing your hand.

The comments cease after that. And he can feel your relief, like you’re a thousand pounds lighter. Apparently a dirty joke is all it takes.

Dinner ends and you’re coerced into staying for one more drink. He enjoys himself nonetheless. Mostly because you’re on his arm throughout the night, your demeanor light and happy.

You excuse yourself to the bathroom after the first drink and Tom finds Vinny and your father, two people he actually enjoys talking to. The conversation revolves around the wedding and your dive that morning. He leaves out the fact he almost punched a barracuda, of course. He’d gotten enough grief from you alone.

He’s got a new drink in his hand when you find him again later and he smiles a little sheepishly. Licking his lips, he says, “Your dad brought me another drink. I didn’t know if you wanted to stay longer, so we can split this or I can just give it to Vinny and we can go.”

You’re smiling up at him like he just over offered you the crown jewels. He’s not entirely sure what it is that he’s done to keep you smiling at him like that, but he’s certain he isn’t going to stop. You lean in to kiss his cheek, but he feels you hesitate, pulling away slowly.

He turns to you, watching you tilt your head, bringing your hand up to cup his jaw softly and trail your thumb along across his cheek.

“What is it?” he asks.

“Oh. Nothing, just smeared my lipstick on your cheek,” you explain, wiping it away. “Let’s go back to the room.”

He agrees easily, passing the beer off to Vinny on his way out the door. You go through the motions of saying good night to everyone, hugs and kisses and jokes. And then you pull him along quickly to get back to the room. He’s laughing lightly as he lets you drag him along.

“What’s the rush?” he asks when you reach your room. You unlock the door and step inside, tossing your purse onto one of the chaise lounges.

“Did you mean that, what you said at dinner? I mean, would you still have said that if we weren’t here faking a relationship?”

He blinks, caught off guard, he presses his lips together as he locks the door behind him. He turns back to you. “Yeah,” he pauses, rubbing his lips together, “Yeah, I meant it.”

You nod. “Yeah, I thought you did.” Then you reach for him, taking his hand and pulling him into the room. “I think it’s time I thank you, Tom.”

_____________________________________________

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