#waiting for the once and future king to return
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Me: *sees merlin trending* why in the world are we trending???
Me: *realization* oh... right... now I'm sad😭
#bbc merlin#merlin bbc#merthur#arthur and merlin#merlin emrys#merlin#bbc arthur#arthur pendragon#arthur x merlin#merlin and arthur#bbc merlin has killed me over and over again and yet I'm still here#waiting for the once and future king to return#why did they air it on CHRISTMAS EVE of all days...#they wanted max suffering#now every time we are excited about the holidays we also have to deal with the collective fandoms' depression and denial
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Guys bbc merlin is trending. And we’ve made it trend only because the official Merlin twitter changed the bio and tweeted for the first time in ten years. The power of this fandom is unmatched. We feed on literal crumbs and go feral whenever we get the slimmest shred of hope. Now can you imagine if the show actually came back??? Like. Imagine getting to see Arthur and Merlin reunite. The collective madness such an event would unleash. We’d break tumblr for real wouldn’t we.
#we are all so delusional lmaooo#I love our fandom so much#we never lose hope#we are all just waiting here forever for our king’s return#just like merlin#once and future fandom#merlin#bbc merlin
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His. | Loki x reader smut
I finally the Loki tv show… this does NOT have any spoilers, it’s set on Asgard with a newly appointed king and his coronation gift…
cw: d/s
“Leave any traces of fear in this room.” The command was clear, spoken sharply by a royal attendant.
Your gaze didn’t leave the fragrant water of the bath you knelt in, the attendant taking care to wash every inch of your skin. Other women pulled fluttering silks from a wardrobe, lying it out for you and finding jewelry to match. So much led to this moment, and yet it didn’t seem real — anticipation and anxiety buzzing in your head. You’d been told once already to contain the obvious fear that lingered in your chest, but the daunting task of doing so seemed impossible when your fate was waiting on a silver platter, the moment you left the private chamber you were being bathed in.
“Come, out of the water before your skin wrinkles,” you were hauled to your feet, wrapped in towels and rubbed down by several girls with movements so quick, you were barely left time to react.
Hands massaged your tense limbs, covering them in oils that bloomed with exotic scents, leaving your skin gleaming. At the same time, your hair was fixed, emeralds — his favorite — twisted into the locks and fastening to bare your neck.
“It’s customary to dress her in white,” a handmaiden spoke of you as if you were not there.
“The prince prefers black.” The will of your all-powerful god silenced any protest, everyone moving to do his bidding.
The women fretted — you had to be perfect for him. They prepared you to be presented to the god, as a divine gift to honor the crown prince of Asgard. You were bathed, decorated, and dressed, all to please the god you were gifted to, an expectation that you’d been bred for. It was a great honor to be taken from the hills, to the castle of the gods, to walk amongst the divine, even if it meant your role was to do as your master saw fit, obeying every command. You had come to terms with it, knowing that upon prince Loki’s rise to the throne, you were the sacrifice — the gift — of the kingdom, a promise of good fortune and favor granted in return.
It all seemed like a far-away, distant dream in a future that would never come. Despite that, here you were, relinquishing your whole self to Asgard’s throne. You had never met the god, and never seen him up close. Of course you’d heard the stories, the wrath and prowess of the young prince, and even seen him from a distance — but being in his presence was something entirely new, before being expected to spend the rest of time at his mercy.
Asgardian silk draped over your skin, so light you wouldn’t know it was there. Your decency was concealed beneath expensive black fabric, hiding what was only meant for Loki to see in the moments after this. The handmaidens’ fussing finally ceased, ending the long evening of preparation.
“Come with me, and do as you’re told,” the woman in charge ushered you forward, opening the chamber doors, releasing you out of known captivity into unpredictability.
You swallowed the fear in your throat, steps silent as you followed her to the throne room, the festivities growing louder as you approached your fate. Before you were given a moment to hesitate, you were led into the cavernous room of gold and heavenly magic.
All at once, it fell silent as soldiers escorted you to the throne. There he was — the god himself, draped over his golden throne. Loki was the only one adorned finer than you, a golden helm atop his onyx waves, wild cerulean eyes that bore straight into your soul.
“Your majesty, a gift in exchange for your benevolence,” the ceremony’s representative from your kingdom presented you to Loki, a hand on your shoulder forcing you to kneel before the throne.
A dangerous smile curved the god’s lips, placing his scepter aside as he rose to his feet.
“A very generous gift indeed,” Loki’s lyrical voice wrapped around your throat, stealing the air from your lungs.
He was impossibly tall and lean as he approached you, toned muscles visible even through the heavy layers of leather and gold that adorned his figure. Loki was no mere prince, but a god of mischief, holding an entire world in the palm of his delicate hand. A dark mischief glittered in his eyes, the gorgeous royal leaning down to look closely at you.
He tilted your chin up, looking him directly in the eye, immediately disarmed and vulnerable as you did so. His expression changed almost imperceptibly, gone from his eyes in a flash as he looked away from you, addressing the court who had handed you over.
Your ears were ringing too loudly to hear what he said, your head spinning. A solider moved to guide you to sit at the base of the throne, at Loki’s feet, when you were suddenly snapped back into the present moment.
“You will not lay a hand on what is mine!” Loki’s shout thundered through the chamber, stopping the man before he could touch you.
The soldier quickly fell back, recognizing the lethal danger of disrespecting Loki. An entire room held its breath, the seconds agonizing, exhaling only when Loki motioned for festivities to resume.
Despite the advice to hide your fear, Loki could practical feel your startled fright. Everything else blurred into the background, the celebration entertaining itself, leaving you and Loki at the center of your own universe.
Loki leaned down with an outstretched hand, his expression softening as you met his gaze. He had not yet spoken directly to you, but you didn’t need instruction to place your hand in his, allowing his strength to move you forward. Loki guided you to kneel at his feet as he resumed his place on the throne, slotted between his long legs.
Delicate fingers gently tilted your chin to look up at him, the touch startlingly gentle, a stark contrast to what you’d been warned of.
“There is a long night of festivities ahead, you may rest on me if you grow weary,” Loki granted you permission to lie your head against his thigh, to sink back into the new shelter.
You gave a small nod of understanding, looking back down as his attention was demanded from another round of celebration.
Despite the dizzying commotion of Loki’s ceremony, your limbs became heavy and keeping your eyes open was a losing battle. Loki peered down at you as you slowly laid your head against his leg, letting your exhausted body rest for the first time.
A fierce desire to protect you swelled in Loki’s chest, suddenly cross with the noise and lights that combatted your sleep. As he continued to entertain offerings of exotic fruits and tributes from his kingdoms, Loki moved a leg in front of you, glaring at anyone who so much as looked too long in your direction.
He couldn’t imagine how drained you were, to sleep through the chaos. Your weight rested against his leg, though you didn’t let yourself fully drift into deep sleep, some part of you making sure that you were upright, not wanting to displease him.
Loki carefully supported you as he stood, lifting you off the floor with godly strength. The festivities continued without him — kings, gods, and valkyrie reenacting stories of battles and playing with magic in the great halls.
He’d had quite enough of the noise and empty affection, and desired nothing more than some quiet time alone with his offering.
“Careful,” he warned softly as you began to stir, strengthening his grip to keep you from falling.
“M’sorry,” you mumbled, your first words spoken in a haze of exhaustion.
“It’s alright, you’re free to rest,” Loki laid you down on his bed the moment you entered the privacy of his chambers.
Golden floors were etched in sweeping illustrations of history and mythology, telling the stories of your god beneath the bed draped in dark green silks. Huge doors opened to a veranda, a summer breeze ruffling the curtains, allowing glimpses of glittering astronomy overhead.
Your mind yearned to stay awake, to learn your surroundings and stay vigilant in the presence of Loki. Despite that, your body screamed for sleep, sinking into the soft bedding he had placed you on.
.
Loki watched you sleep.
Exhaustion kept your body rigidly still, not moving once the entire night. You stayed curled up in the very corner of the expansive bed, out of reach of Loki, who eventually took his place as the sun cracked the horizon.
The only indication you were real, was the gentle rise and fall of your back as you breathed. As you slept, the frightened expression vanished from your face, softening the your features. Loki couldn’t take his eyes off of you, studying your almost peaceful face.
Loki drifted in and out of sleep, not bothering to wake you after such a late and overwhelming night. You must have been weary, because you couldn’t have been comfortable, making yourself as small as possible at the very edge of the bed, not wanting to take up too much of Loki’s space.
You slowly opened your eyes, sunlight streaming in through the open veranda. The morning seemed impossibly peaceful, despite waking up into a new life of servitude. This didn’t feel like what you’d expected — waking up in a comfortable bed with the warm sun on your face, the scent of breakfast wafting from a huge spread on the chamber’s dining table.
“Good morning, darling,” Loki’s voice was much softer in the privacy of the chambers, without an audience.
You sat up, looking over as he stood from a couch, setting aside a novel. He was more relaxed, wearing loose black linen, his hair tied up loosely.
“Hi,” you whispered, at a loss for words — partially in awe of how gorgeous he was, and partially cautious, as if he were a cobra waiting to strike at any wrong move.
He watched as you observed your surroundings, inspecting your golden cage in the light of day. Loki’s chambers were beautiful, bright, and serene. It seemed so divorced from the perception you had of the god before being let in to the most private part of his existence. Loki moved smoothly throughout the room, delicate hands attached to a lean, muscular body. Loki’s face was sculpted out of marble, so stunningly beautiful it left you breathless. Green eyes pierced straight into your soul, laid bare when he looked at you.
“Eat something,” he gestured to the feast at the table, as if he were the devil, offering food to a goddess to keep captive in his lair forever.
It was your job to obey, your body moving before your mind even considered protest. The shimmering gown you were wearing the night before swept the floor as you walked, Loki admiring how beautiful you were, even slightly disheveled.
You hesitantly took a berry from the table, bringing it to your lips, licking the sweetness off your fingertips. The sight stirred something inside of Loki, his gaze focusing on the contours of your body that were visible through the just-sheer parts of the fabric draped over you.
“Master?” You could feel the weight of his gaze, invisibly drawing you to him.
Loki stepped toward you, pleased as you sank to your knees without any encouragement, easing into his submission. You wanted it, needed it, like your lungs needed air. A shimmer of green made your clothing disappear, baring you fully to Loki’s intoxicated gaze.
“Look at you, fit for a god,” he praised, slowly circling you as you kneeled, appreciating you from every angle.
“Only for you, master.”
“Loki,” he permitted you to call him by name, a request that pulled the corners of your lips up with small satisfaction.
The floor was cold beneath your knees, and your skin began to prick beneath a cool breeze from the veranda. Loki swelled over the recognition that you were his, and his alone. He was hard in the loose linen pants, eager to claim full ownership of you in such an intimate way. You willingly surrendered to him, practically desperate for him to take you, to consummate your submission to the god.
Your hands smoothed up the solid muscles of Loki’s thighs — limbs you wish to be bent over — before clutching the linen waistband and dragging down his trousers. The sight of him hung heavy made your mouth water and your cunt throb, desire swirling in your belly.
“Go ahead. Touch me as you please, I’m as much yours as you are mine,” Loki murmured, realizing you were waiting for permission, to do as you were told.
Long fingers wove into your hair, cradling the side of your head, pulling only slightly as you licked the tip of his cock, sending a shock up his spine.
He leaned back against the wall, smirking as your left palm flattened over his toned abs to brace yourself, pleased that you were trusting his words.
“Gods,” Loki swore when you took him in your mouth, letting him push you down until he was filling your throat.
Pretty tears welled at your lashes at his size, your throbbing need beginning to smear between your thighs. Your free hand worked what you couldn’t fit in your mouth, your tongue dragging up his shaft. He was both long and thick, his skin like velvet on your tongue. It was a feat to take even half of him in your mouth, and you moaned and the thought of him fucking you, and how you’d beg to take it all.
“If worshipping my cock makes you wet enough to drip on my floor, I’ll let you do it every morning,” Loki purred with a grin, clearly taking notice of the effect he had on your body.
“Please,” you whimpered respectfully, dragging your fist up his length, giving your mouth a break.
“I’m close, darling, you’re doing beautifully,” he praised, watching your thighs squeeze together at his words.
“I want to come in that gorgeous mouth, feel myself in your throat.”
You tilted your head back just a bit, both to gaze up into his eyes and to let him in deeper. A low whine vibrated around his cock as his hand wrapped around your throat, gently squeezing.
“Fuck,” Loki hissed, spilling over into your mouth, filling your senses with his salty taste.
“Swallow it,” Loki commanded, and you were all too willing to obey, wanting to please him.
His thumb swiped over your lips, cleaning up the bit of mess he made, kneeling in front of you as you both caught your breath.
“Was that okay?” the question slipped out before you could stop yourself, puzzling Loki.
“Of course, it was perfect. Haven’t you done it before?”
“No, I’ve been kept pure for you,” you answered, earning a profane string of Norse as his dick twitched.
“You’ve made me insatiable,” Loki pressed a quick, messy kiss to your mouth that was interrupted by a knock at the door.
“No!” Loki shouted, standing up, displayed in his full glory to the guard who opened the door.
The furious god stood in front of you, blocking any eyes from catching even a glimpse of your body.
“Get out, now, or I shall have your eyes torn out!” Loki thundered, fiercely possessive over you.
“I’m so sorry, your highness. Odin has called on you—”
A sharp burst of Loki’s magic sent the man flying backward with a yell, the door slamming shut behind him.
“I’m sorry-” you began, as if you needed to apologize for being nude.
“I will never let anyone else touch you, see your body, or covet what is mine.”
A warmth spread through you at the words, taking his hand to stand up. He took a cloth, carefully cleaning you up, before guiding you into a closet that was full of the finest Asgardian fabrics.
“We’ll continue this later, darling, but for now, you’ll accompany me on whatever nonsense I’m being summoned for,” Loki explained, moving to dress himself as he left you to choose what maids had left for your arrival.
You chose green, pleasing the god as you adorned his colors, another sign of your growing devotion. Loki kissed your wrist, before a band of gold appeared in a shimmer, bringing a smile to your face.
He wordlessly led you out of his chambers, a hand at the small of your back. Being with him was intense — but the castle and all of its people was overwhelming. You found yourself leaning into Loki’s side, away from the noise of shouting and chaos of the everyday happenings.
He looked up from the throne to see what was bothering you before pulling you to sit between his legs where you could sink back into him and ignore the noise.
“We’ll leave as soon as I’m finished. Until then, you can entertain yourself by picturing what I’m going to do to your precious little pussy,” Loki whispered against the side of your face, gently nipping your ear.
You shuddered against his chest, feeling him chuckle beneath you as his arm tightened on your waist. Warmth flushed your cheeks and you turned your face into his arm, shy at the filthy words from Loki. He could feel your heart racing inside your ribs, anxious to tear the emerald gown from your body.
You were lost in your thoughts when Loki banished everyone from the expansive throne room, giant doors embedded with gemstones slamming shut, sealing you alone with him.
“Now, where were we?” Loki asked, mouthing hot kisses along your neck and shoulder.
“I believe you were about to fuck me, Loki,” you chirped.
“I love hearing those dirty words on your lips, all for me.”
“Only you,” you promised, closing the gap as he hovered above you.
The kiss was heady, his tongue warm and dominating as he pushed it past your lips. The sensation nearly distracted you from his hands, that were tearing the fabric around your torso, letting it flutter to the floor in shimmering pieces.
“I’m going to fuck you here, on this throne, like a proper king.”
You parted your legs, letting his hand drop between them. Loki smirked into your neck as he cupped your sex, feeling how wet you were, desperate for him as heat radiated from your center.
He didn’t bother to turn you over, perfectly happy to fuck you while you were on top of him, lying on his chest as he sat upon his throne. He glided his cock along your wet lips, only a moment until you were squirming with desperation.
He wanted to hear you beg, but even he couldn’t wait any longer, slowly sinking into you, every inch stretching you impossibly further. The sweet sting made you cry out, your head dropping back on his shoulder when he nestled himself fully inside you.
“You’re perfect for me,” Loki praised through gritted teeth, fighting not to slam into you like an animal. He could feel your walls throbbing around him, muscles burning as they were forced to take the stretch to fit him inside — and you loved it.
You doubted anything would ever feel so good, until his hips started to roll forward, the god fucking you deep and slow, holding your body against his chest. He buried his face in your shoulder, soaking up your squeals of pleasure as he lost himself in you.
Before he even thought to play with you, your cunt began to clench around him with an impending orgasm. Your startled whimper shot straight to Loki’s dick, and he fucked you harder, unable to help himself.
“Come around me, darling, let me know how good you feel,” Loki urged, nearly spilling into you as you trembled in his arms, coming with a scream that echoed off the walls.
“There you go,” he murmured, twitching before he filled you with his seed, painting your insides with him.
Your breaths were ragged and uneven, mind completely foggy in the aftermath. He breathed in your scent as he stayed inside you, preserving the moment for as long as possible.
“I’m yours, forever,” you whispered, as if reading his mind.
#loki smut#loki#loki avengers#loki x reader#loki x reader smut#loki smut oneshot#loki imagine smut#loki imagine#avengers#marvel#loki fic#loki fanfiction#avengers au#loki fluff
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Cave boy Danny AU where he's half asleep and rambling as he mentions some people back home like his exes (especially Valerie), his English teacher, this stalker of his who he likes messing with, and the annoying fruitloop who's the bane of his existence! They're concerned. Only once he's fully awake when they ask for names.
Lancer is Alfred, Talia is Val, maybe Paulina is Julie Madison but idk, Wes is Edward/The riddler (I'm pretty sure there was a time he had a reddish orange hair. Either way, he was the same model as Danny so maybe Wes dyed his hair to not be confused with the Fentons in this AU), and Vlad is Ra's!
Hello! This actually falls out of my planned plotline for Cave Boy, but I will write something for you that is close to the prompt to make up for it! Hope that's okay and that you like it
Flash sends them a message sometime in the early afternoon before any of the Bats are ready to go out. In fact, Damian, Duke, Steph, and Jason are in class when his message arrives.
Bruce, Dick, Tim, Cass, and Barbara are at work. As the Flash is one of the few who knows what the Batfamily is doing during these hours, it is rare for him to bother at this hour. He would have usually waited until after five as that was when a majority of them became available.
They all quickly check their phones when they vibrate to ensure it's not a world-ending threat, just in case.
Since the messages would be sent to their civilian phones- anyone in the know of the Bat's real identity chooses to text in a very specific code. This way, no one would know what they were saying, and the Bats would realize they were speaking to who they thought they were.
Barry Allen chose Disney theme GIFs as his code.
A gif of Mulan singing Reflections lets them all know that somehow, the speedster has again opened a portal into a different dimension and/or mess with time.
"Why is my reflection someone I don't know?" meant "A double of one of you has crossed over from a different dimension and/or timeline"
This causes a brief ripple of anxiety. The last time someone had a double, it was Tim, and his future version of himself was crazy, evil, and surprisingly capable. It took Tim almost ending his life to beat the guy.
Thankfully, the second GIF comes through seconds later. This one is Mulan's Honor To Us All.
"Please bring honor to us all" meant "The double is friendly."
The last Gif was from Lion King, Timon cheerfully singing Hakuna Matata. "It means no worries for the rest of your days" meant "Sorry for the trouble."
Those in class return to their various lessons, but Tim quickly responds, "I love that movie! We should watch Mulan again the next time I see you, Uncle Barry!"
This means, "We will meet the double tonight."
The rest of the day drags on as they all slowly start to make bets on who the double would be for. They all agree that Cass is long overdue to face herself again. Still, Dick makes the complying argument that Duke needed to have his first "My counterpart from another dimensional/ Timal plane" moment.
They all actively hope Duke can clear another block on his Bat-bingo card. He gets two more and a complimentary tray of any of his favorite Alfred's desserts.
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That night, they all meet up in the watch tower, each clutching their bingo card just in case. (The game resets every month, and so far, Jason has written down the most accurate predictions. He needed two more squares for a cooking lesson of his favorite meal, and he was out for blood)
They all silently go to the conference room, where Barry entertains the guests. Apparently, they were trying to find discrepancies in their world's history and the double's life to help find which world they came from and send them back.
They were being shown the main rouges to test the timeframe.
"Is that Wes!?" A young male teenager yells. Sadly, Steph swears, staring at her "A new Batgirl from a different world" box.
"We call him Edward when he's not in his costume. Otherwise, his name is the Riddler." Barry answers, amusement clear in his voice.
"Riddler? How is Riddler menacing? What does he tell you, riddles of death or something?"
"You be surprised......."
Bruce gets to the door, pushing it open with a quick flick of the wrist, and inside is Barry sitting at the conference table next to a boy with dark hair and blue eyes. In front of them is a hologram showcasing the Gotham Rouge files.
There are papers and pencils scattered on the table. Likely, they have been writing down notes of the differences they have spotted.
Barry's eyes flicker to them, but the boy is too distracted to count on his fingers.
"Okay, so Wes is Riddler, Val is Talia, Fruitloop is Ra's, Sckuller is Bane, and ugh....for some reason, Spectra is Harley Quinn." The boy finishes checking his notes.
"For some reason? I thought you said Spectra studied psychology too."
"yeah, but Harley Quinn actually got a Ph.D. What did Spectra do? Land a school counselor position? Please." The boy rolls his eyes dismissively, and Barry frowns.
He's never taken kindly to people disregarding another person's profession, especially if it was connected to the educational system in some way.
"Hey now, that's an important job, and you need years of study before you can be a school counselor-"
"I bet Spectra peaked in high school. That's why she's like that." The boy cut him off, nodding as though he had found the universe's answer.
Well.....this was either a version of Jason, Tim, or maybe early Dick, that was a little too sassy but not angry? It's not sad either; it's more like, fed up? Or teenage tired.
"Oh, who are they?" The boy asks, and Barry zips right next to Batman.
"Danny, meet Batman...the you of this world. And his kids."
Danny squints. "Who is your mom, and how easy am I? Because there is a lot of you that I fathered for me to not be easy."
Jason burst out laughing, checking a box. "Yes, someone calling Bruce easy in costume. That's on bingo for me!"
#dcxdpdabbles#dc x dp crossover#Double Vision#Basically Danny is not impressed#All his villains are villains here too#That Batkids play Batman bingo#It's bonding so Bruce lets them
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fresh out the slammer | daemon targaryen
Description: Daemon Targaryen always found himself running to you after his failed marriages.
Pairing: Daemon Targaryen/The Hand!Reader
Now pretty baby, I'm running back home to you.
Fresh out the slammer, I know who my first call will be to.
The Dragon Prince was always an unpredictable figure. He made choices of his own, allowed his hot-blooded anger to rule his decisions instead of his mind. "Lord Otto warned me years ago, he knew that Daemon would try this..." Viserys cursed underneath his breath, it was a mere second ago when Lord Otto Hightower delivered the news about Rhaenyra's excursion with Daemon.
"I know Rhaenyra, she wouldn't do that in her own accord - this is Daemon's doing, my husband." Queen Alicent followed behind him, and you both exchange a look. Viserys takes a deep breath.
Viserys wanted to believe that his daughter was as innocent as Alicent thought but he knew that it wasn't the case. "The same blood flows through their veins, Rhaenyra and Daemon, they are both unpredictable - untamed by tradition. I would approve of this but my brother has a wife, we cannot risk offending House Royce." the King responded, waiting for your reply.
"We must do something about Daemon." Viserys articulated, "I believe that we have exhausted all our efforts into taming your brother, my king. You've already named him as the Commander of the City Watch. If that position has not taught him anything about honor and respect, I-I cannot see a possibility that anything could." you mused, his eyebrows merged into each other.
"We can send him away, force him to return to his lawful wife." Alicent suggested. "- the people at court, they'll talk about Rhaenyra, they'll bring her moralities into question. If she is to be the future Queen, then shouldn't the court respect her?" Alicent added, hoping to sway her husband into making the decision.
"It is already an endless cycle, my queen. Prince Daemon is forced into exile, he returns a few years and he does something that forces him to exile once more." you argued, on top of that, the prince was an asset to the crown - a warrior if not anything lesser.
"- to catch him would be to catch the wind." you ended and a sigh escapes the King's mouth. "- and we are still unsure if Prince Daemon was with Princess Rhaenyra. Mayhaps, it was just a whore from Lyss who bore resemblance to our princess." you defended, mentally reminding yourself to confront him after this conversation.
Viserys was silent for a second.
He takes a deep breath.
"I shall speak to my brother, confirm or derail the allegations. Then I shall call the small council and make a decision there." he concluded.
Daemon clenched his jaw, seeing you walk towards him in his periphery. A child in his eyes - decades lesser than his age, and yet his brother found you more fitting to be the Hand.
What did you have, that he did not?
"Lord Otto reports seeing you with Princess Rhaenyra late at night in Fleabottom." you opened the conversation and he did his best not to show any facial expressions. "What do you want?" his eyes narrowed.
"It was her then? I'll have you know that your brother plans to wring your head because of that." you chuckled, amused by his childish antics. Was it his first time in court? "If it is her, if it is not her, it is none of your business, hand." he grits his teeth.
You resist the urge to roll your eyes.
"Your brother will send you back to your wife. He will not grant you disbarment, nor will he grant you marriage with your niece. You are caught in a limbo, my prince." you explained his situation.
He could give lesser of a fuck.
"- but I can offer you a way out." you offered, and his pupils dilated. Suddenly piqued by your proposition. He takes a strand of your hair and moves it behind your ears. Your faces were mere inches away from each other. "A pretty lady offers me a proposition, I cannot decline." he agrees with the deal.
You stare deep into those purple eyes.
"I'm fairly new to court, they don't trust me - I've made a few enemies. Especially Lord Otto, and I know enough to know that you are smarter than you seem - that he fears you to some extent." you whispered, your voice low so that he'd have to lean closer to hear.
"You protect me, and I'll protect you." you offered. "- this thing with Rhaenyra will die down, just pretend that it was some Lyseni whore you bedded, and not your niece. You can still fuck her, if you wish, but be a little more discreet." you counseled.
"Sure." he hummed, pulling away from your body.
It's been a few months since the start of your alliance with the Rogue Prince, and surprisingly he's become a decent friend. Hilarious, when he tries. "Drink this," he placed a cup of ale in front of you. It wasn't your first time in Fleabottom, but it was your first time going here incognito beside him.
"Gods, aren't you going to help Harwin?" you chuckled, taking a slight sip of the ale. It was much too strong for your tastes. Daemon laughed in return, raising his hand and calling out to Harwin. "Are you alright?" he inquired and the man nodded his head sluggishly, fighting against the effects of alcohol.
"He's alright," Daemon antagonized, biting back a few giggles. "This is my first time seeing you loosen off. You're kind of a boring prude." he insulted jokingly, and you responded with an eye-roll. "Fuck you." your eyes narrowed.
"Seven hells, aren't you going to do anything now?" you raised an eyebrow, seeing Harwin led to the stage by a few bedwarmers. One of the girls pressed kisses on his cheeks. "I thought I was your only one," Daemon chuckled, not planning to stop Harwin from having his fun. "I thought you were old friends." you teased.
"Closer than friends, lesser than lovers." he shrugged and a laugh escapes your mouth. You always managed to laugh at his antics. He always pretended to be close to the people that hated him, sometimes even referring to Otto Hightower as the father he never had - of course, that was an insult to the man's physical features.
There was a comfortable silence between you, a silence that was only marred by the habitual sipping of ale. "You frequent these types of places?" you inquired, only beginning to realize the slight reddish tint on his cheeks.
"I used to, but not much now, they've grown...boring." he waited for the right words to exit his mouth. The truth was, he found himself slowly liking your company - liking the words that came out of your mouth, the insults that made him laugh, and the thought of fucking a woman who was only paid to moan and groan left him unfulfilled. He craved something deeper - like an idiot, he wanted a woman that understood him, that was able to shake his soul with avarice.
He needed someone like you, but he hasn't quite figured that out yet.
"The Prince of Flea Bottom, finding his own kingdom...boring." you mimicked his tone. "I've merely understood the fact that there are much better things to do than empty my spend on a whore's belly." he retorted, the conversation turning serious. "You should return to your wife and empty your seed on that belly." you teased once more, you've always laughed at the topic of his wife.
"I fucking hate you," he took a large swig of his ale. "- get me pissed enough and I'll fuck you, I swear to god." he cursed and you froze slightly. He made you feel dangerous for a moment. Like something could sweep by and take him, and you won't even have the right to mourn - you'll just watch him go, and wallow in the memory of him being vulgar with you.
#daemon targaryen x reader#prince daemon x reader#daemon x reader#prince daemon x you#daemon x you#daemon targaryen x you#daemon x y/n#daemon x oc#daemon targaryen x oc#daemon targaryen fic#prince daemon targaryen#daemon fanfic#daemon fluff#daemon fic#hotd x reader#hotd x you#hotd daemon#hotd fanfic#asoiaf fanfic#asoif/got
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Lips anon! I must have the royal au version of it just imagine 😩
Our King deserves a treat 🤭
So far your stance at the Arachne's Kingdom had been a breeze. You'd spend your days painting, embroidering, writing letters, knowing more of Arachne's kingdom. Your relationship with the king of course was still strained.
It had been just a couple of times you had sat and ate together, or did anything together really. One of your fond memories with him was you taking a stroll with him through the castle. Talking about meaningless things, giving bashful smiles, trying to get closer to him.
Little moments of him being gentle with you, gave you hope. Of. course you wouldn't expect things to just click suddenly. You knew with patience you could get there.
Your paintings had improved significantly, and the little conversation among the court only sparked a new idea for you.
"Did you hear?"
"Captain Reilly received one of those portraits"
The hushed voices reverberated through the ample stony halls. You stood there, eavesdropping.
A gasp
"Really? Oh my lord! Is he courting someone?!"
"No, not that I know off, but I just caught a glimpse of it. It's... scandalous!"
"By your majesty, don't spare the details!"
"Heard that famous painter did it. Leona Visqué. It's really hard to get a commission from her. This woman must be desperate if she wants Captain Reilly."
The voices just kept fading as they ventured further within the halls.
You'd visit Miss Visqué yourself.
-----
"If I should've known that the future queen of Arachne, I would've fix the place a bit. Apologies for the mess, your majesty."
"Worry not dear. I know that oil. paintings can be quite hard to remove."
Leona stared with a smile.
"May I know what is it you will commission?"
Your cheeks flushed softly.
"I... overheard a small conversation in the palace, and-"
"Oh?" She smirked, "Glad to hear my art is being the talk among nobility"
You chuckled as your fingers fiddled nervously.
"I would like one of... your famous portraits." You mumbled.
"Oh..." Leona couldn't help but beam.
"For the king?" You nodded with a bubbly and antsy feeling in your stomach. Eyes still cast down.
"Well, seems my other comissions can wait. Let's make something he'll never forget."
----
The king had noticed how you'd take small trips to the city, only to return until noon. And no matter how much he asked, Jessica wouldn't tell him.
"I gave my word to not say a word." She'd dismiss him with a little smile. If it wasn't for a mutiny in the jails, he'd send his own spies to see what your sudden secrecy was about.
----
The wait was over. Leona had finally finished your portrait. Your cheeks burned brightly as you admired yourself in the canvas. Even though, she had insisted that it was a gift, you still payed her.
The canvas was tucked in a velvety pouch. And when you made sure he wasn't in his chambers, you put the little gift in his bed. A bed you would one day share.
The thought made you flee with a heated face.
-----
He removed his armor and striped himself into nakedness. The servants already had his bath ready. Hot steamy water to sooth his aching muscles. He was only a king in his mid thirties yet felt like someone of fifty. his stubble seemed more prominent. He'd need to shave again soon.
Once done, he dried himself and walked over his bed. The fire inside his dim lit room, only casted it's reflection on his moist skin. His eyebrows grimaced upon the velvety package awaiting in his bed.
Damp strands fell on his face, nimble hands undid the small knot ontop. Your penmanship impeccable as usual.
For your eyes only
He blinked as the canvas was slowly revealed to him.
His mouth gaped, a soft sharp inhale it did when his eyes marveled at what laid in his hands.
Your naked form, laid down, a hand above your head as the other one rested near your mouth, a subtle invitation.
His eyes unavoidably wandered to your hips and thighs, the smooth curves of your flesh were traced by one of his fingers, silently hoping that one day he'd be lost between them. You were laid in a bed of flowers, your hair slowly melding with them as some were placed strategically on your your upper strands.
Pouty lips he once fantasized in touching, pried open in a delicate yet alluring way. His groin twitched. Soft mounds that were often caged under fancy dresses, were now freed for him to see. No longer having to imagine them. Supple, generous, and perfect for his hands to maneuver.
How could he had been so blind?
Divine. Perfect, and soon to be his.
Oh, the last one. He had been too busy to actually dwell into thoughts of his own wedding. A day that seemed closer than he anticipated. But now, he had a reason to look forward to it. And for him to be your first was both thrilling yet endearing, but of course his dark mind offered a little twist.
He'd have you as many times as he wished.
A satisfied smirk nested in his meaty mouth.
Oh he would.
#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x reader#💋 anon#miguel o'hara x you#atsv miguel#t writes✨#royal au#king miguel
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Hello. Can you write yandere husband Jaehaerys i Targaryen ?
❝ 🔥 — lady l: I got a little carried away, I'm not going to lie. I hope you like it and forgive me for any mistakes! 💚
❝tw: none, just fluff and soft!yandere.
❝🔥pairing: yandere!jaehaerys i targaryen x female!reader.
Jaehaerys married you before he became King. He had known you for a long time and your house was noble enough that he could marry you without any problems or many complaints and he did so as soon as you were both old enough to do so. He couldn't wait any longer to have you for himself.
Normally he should marry his sister, but he didn't want to. He wanted you. You had known each other since childhood and Jaehaerys knew that he could not marry any other woman but you. Not when he already loved you from that time. And you were perfect for him, not only was your lineage noble and good but you were good for him.
Jaehaerys had made all the right preparations. He had checked your background and was always meticulous about you. He loved you, but he would be King one day and he needed to be careful about his marriage and his future Queen.
He wanted to establish a bond with you, something emotional so that your marriage didn't depend solely on politics. Jaehaerys used to send you letters, telling you stories about the Targaryens and about him. And in return, you were give him letters about yourself and stories that you read in books.
Once the arrangements were made, he was very satisfied. You could become his wife and he your husband. He was eager for you to officially become his. He couldn't wait to start having children with you.
The wedding was grand, as expected of a future King and you looked absolutely stunning. As a future Queen should be.
Handmade, your dress was made with lush fabrics and intricate details, it exuded an aura of romance and tradition. Delicate embroidery adorned your bodice, reminiscent of the patience and skill of dedicated artisans. Your skirt flowed like a dream, with layers of tulle and lace that danced in the wind, while your train dragged along the floor, leaving a trail of stories of eternal love wherever you went.
The wedding night had been good and pleasant for both parties. Jaehaerys delighted in taking you as his wife, in touching you and giving you pleasure while also hoping to impregnate you. The way his kisses were sweet and his fingers touched you left you breathless.
The marriage with Jaehaerys was pleasant and you learned to love your husband despite his possessive and protective behavior. You assumed this was how a husband who loved his wife was supposed to behave, so you didn't mind. You were happy and your husband seemed perfect.
So kind and passionate, there wasn't a day that went by where he wasn't looking at you with heart eyes, his purple eyes sparkling when you caught him looking at you. He loved it even more when your face was red, not knowing what to do with the looks of your husband. So innocent and so his.
You were spoiled and pampered to no end, he doesn't have any kind of financial care to spoil you, you were his wife, nothing more fair than fulfilling all your desires and whims. Everyone must obey your orders without blinking or they will have to deal with Jaehaerys.
Once he became King and you officially received the title Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, you played a large role in his politics. You presided over his council and gave your opinion, to the chagrin of some lords and the delight of your husband who trusted you completely.
You were not only his wife, someone who was only supposed to bear him children, but also an advisor, a Queen, valued by Jaehaerys, collaborating with him in matters of state and being a shrewd mind behind the important decisions of the realm.
Jaehaerys showed his affection in subtle ways sometimes, such as leaving little surprises for you at unexpected times, like flowers in your chambers or gifts made especially for you, showing his affection in subtle and discreet ways.
You took time to travel together, exploring the lands of the Seven Kingdoms, strengthening your bond not only with each other, but with the other Lords, and creating precious memories outside of royal compromises.
Jaeherys was your perfect husband, he put you above everything else and did whatever you wanted. He loves you deeply and just wants you to be happy. He trusts you like no one else and you have all the power over him. Even more so when you get pregnant with your first child.
You have the King on his knees for you whenever you want. He is yours and you are his. He was always yours.
#a song of ice and fire#asoiaf#house of the dragon#yandere house of the dragon#yandere hotd#hotd#yandere asoiaf#asoiaf x reader#jaehaerys i targaryen#jaehaerys i targaryen x reader#yandere jaehaerys i targaryen#yandere jaehaerys i targaryen x reader#yandere headcanons#headcanons#yandere jaehaerys i targaryen headcanons#yandere a song of ice and fire
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Heavy is the head that wears the crown
Author: bvidzsoo
Warnings: slight cursing, mentions of human trafficking
Pairing: Jung Wooyoung x female reader
Word count: 24,9k
Summary: Jung Wooyoung was a prince. Raised to be a King one day. Except that nobody asked him if he wanted to become one, it was his duty. Wooyoung thought he'd be able to travel the world, sail out and go on adventures, however that is just not how his story was written. So, one day, when he was only thirteen years old, he decided to take the pen in his own hands and change his own story. He became a Pirate. You, you were also a princess, soon to become Queen. Your groom disappeared when the two of you were thirteen and you figured you wouldn't get married now, so there was no reason to stay at your castle and live a boring life. You ran away, living quietly and humbly. That is, until Wooyoung came stumbling through your living room door. (Reader is called Oh Haneul in the following oneshots.)
A/N: Buckle up my friends, this one is a longer one; but it became my absolute favorite one lol. This oneshot now definitely has a special place in my heart. Next part won't be up too soon as I'm busy with things, I hope y'all can understand, I can't wait to write my pookie Mingi's part lol. I hope you'll find it as funny as I do and don't shy away, leave feedback! Enjoy now!
Taglist: @pingyu-in-wonderland @marievllr-abg @lelaleleb @loveforred @horanghae8 @jeonghanscarat7 @orshii @mundayoonimnida @m3tavita @silentcry329 @icarusignite @cooljuni @sharksandminhos @mountiiny
Series Masterlist ↭ Previous Part
The life of a princess was lavishing and comfortable. The people around you always had everything you needed and would deliver it to you before you could even ask for it. It was as if they could read your mind, anticipate your thoughts and actions. Princesses were supposed to be beautiful and humble, respectful, with a smile always on their faces. They were supposed to hide their mouths when they laughed, never too loudly, of course, and they weren’t supposed to keep eye contact for too long with a man. Princesses were supposed to be well mannered and studious, and able to hold a conversation about any topic. Princesses were supposed to speak softly and slowly so that everyone could understand them, yet they shouldn’t speak up first, unasked. Princesses were supposed to hold their chins up high and stand with their backs straight, almost gliding when they walked, never allowed to run. Or to skip their beauty sleep, meaning they always had to go to bed early. Of course, they weren’t allowed to be seen with any man, other than their betrothed, and they weren’t allowed to sneak around. Princesses weren’t allowed to talk back to their parents and they had to accept whatever future they built for them. Princesses couldn’t say no to ruling if they were next in line to the throne and they also weren’t allowed to choose their own lovers. Not when they were supposed to marry the prince in the neighboring kingdom who was the same age as them, their marriage unifying two powerful forces: The Sun Rise Kingdom and The South Kingdom. But what was a princess supposed to do if their betrothed disappeared one day without a trace? If he got kidnapped by pirates and then never returned to his parents? To his Kingdom? To fulfill his duties as a monarch and man? What was a princess supposed to do then? I still haven’t figured out that part yet, but for once, I decided to take the reins in my owns hands and write my own future. If my betrothed could disappear off the surface of Earth, then I could do it too. And that is exactly what I did when I turned twenty. I waited for my mother to fall asleep and then quickly packed everything I deemed precious and important for my journey into a briefcase, then dressed in my maid’s clothes and made sure to conceal my face. I had to be swift with my escape and if anyone recognized me, I knew my mother would never let me out of her sight. I wanted to live a free life, to see what I would become if I was stripped of my title. Would I still live comfortably? Would people be finally genuine with me? And not pretend to like me for the sake of a title I inherited by being born into the royal Oh family? I wanted to see if I could fend for myself. But most importantly, I wanted to get away from my mother’s scrutinizing glares and sharp words reminding me daily of who I was. Princess Oh Y/N, next in line to the throne, still waiting for her betrothed to return. At some point I had given up on the fantasy of ever seeing him again. But my mother, however, vehemently believed that my prince would return soon and fix all of his wrongdoings. To be fair, I only remembered his family name at this point, Jung, and barely the shape of his eyes and their color back when he was eleven. We’ve met once in our lives, when we were eleven, and then never again. Because three days later, he was gone. Apparently captured and taken by pirates. Many believed he was dead, many believed he joined those pirates willingly. His family shut down those silly rumors quickly and reassured my mother that he would return and then we’d finally get married.
But I didn’t want to wait for him anymore. It was useless. I didn’t even love him or want him. I didn’t want a total stranger as my King. And as I ran as far away from the castle, heart thumping wildly and feet aching from such strenuous activity for my sheltered body, I realized I didn’t even want to become a Queen anymore. Why would I even want that? To become like my mother? Rigid and vengeful, always having to watch my steps because someone was out for my head? Her own husband tried to kill my mother, my own father, did I truly want that life? For my King to abandon me and wish harm upon me? I did not regret escaping the safety of my castle, of my nation, of my Kingdom. The sailor ship I snuck on was nasty and dirty, filled with drunken sailors as they screamed their lungs out, too wrapped up in their songs to notice a woman struggling to pull her briefcase over the railing. They either didn’t care, or I just hid too well, because they never even bothered looking for me the following days. They never came towards the supply room I was hiding in, and if they did, they quickly grabbed the rum off the shelves and then left the room, whistling loudly. I counted the days, somewhere around five, by the time we decked down. I had no idea where I was as I made a run for it, knocking a few sailors off their feet as I got off the ship, panting and struggling to carry my briefcase. Their shouts were loud but they never bothered chasing after me. I had no idea in which Kingdom I was in, perhaps it was still the Sun Rise, just a smaller island of it. I hoped that wasn’t the case, because I would be back home in no time if anyone recognized me. But in the three years I’ve been living on my own, my identity remained a secret to the people around me, nobody ever recognized me or suspected me of being royalty. Perhaps it was because I lived on one of the Nordic island’s from the South Kingdom, perhaps it was because people never looked for too long at you. They rarely questioned your origins or your life story. Here, everyone seemed to be busy with their own lives and problems. People also weren’t as nice and friendly as back home, but I found it refreshing. For once in my life, I felt like I was truly invisible, left alone and unbothered. Nobody pried for something which didn’t concern them and nobody forced their kindness on you, expecting you to return it one day. If someone here did something for you, it was because they wanted to and not because they secretly wished for you to do the same for them.
I found it easier to live here, the town I settled down in was well off and progressive. Women here were allowed to do as they wished, and so, they opened an institute for the younglings, where governesses would teach them everything they had to know about our world. Girls and boys alike were welcomed, poor and rich, their differences placed aside. The institute is where I found myself working, as a smaller governess, someone who taught the children etiquette. It was a sudden thought I had one night, as I was wondering how I would earn my own money since the one I brought with myself from the castle wouldn’t last me forever, and I realized that for once in my life I could use all of those years of living as a princess to my advantage. Everyone loved well-mannered, well-spoken and studious people, I found myself perfect to do such a job. So, the next day I walked to the institute and proposed to teach said subject and everyone was thrilled by the idea. I didn’t demand for a high pay, the cottage I was living in was fairly cheap when I bought it, and food here seemed to be a lot more accessible than back at my own kingdom. The only pricey items were my canvas, brushes, and colors. I loved to paint and I couldn’t imagine my life without it. Whenever I had free time, which I had lots at the castle, I would sit in the gardens and paint whatever I felt inspired by. Here, in the town, I had less free time, but I managed to balance my attention onto everything. The young mothers seemed to adore me and often brought cookies and delicious meals for me at the institute as a show of gratitude for the work I put in with their children, I often found myself not having to cook anything at home. Living here for the past three years has truly been liberating, however, I couldn’t deny it, I did find myself missing the posh lifestyle from time to time. Sometimes I would wake up in the morning and unconsciously reach for the bell to ring for my maids to come open the curtains and window for me. Or sometimes I would find myself sitting at my stand, painting, and if I forgot something I needed, I would scream the name of my most trusted maid, only to realize she wouldn’t be coming around. There were evenings when I was so tired I wanted someone to warm up the water in the bathtub for me and cook me a chicken noodle soup, but unfortunately, I now had to do all that by myself. I couldn’t complain, unless my body was aching from having a strenuous day, which happened less often lately. It was a comforting thought. It means that I was finally becoming familiar with the chosen lifestyle.
I had just finished up my lessons at the institution and after locking up, I walked to the market to see if I could buy some vegetables. It was late in the evening, but some vendors stayed out until the sun was setting. My favorite vendor was still there by the time I walked through the square and I quickly approached her, greeting her with a warm smile.
“Oh, dear,” She smiled back brightly, her hair a light gray color, “I had a feeling you would come by today, I waited for you.”
“You shouldn’t have, Mrs. Chwe.” I picked up two carrots and three potatoes, placing them in my handbag once Mrs. Chwe saw them, “Let me walk you back home, then. The sun will be soon gone, you shouldn’t walk alone.”
“Do not worry about me, dear.” Mrs. Chwe chuckled and handed me two tomatoes with a wink, “I know my way around here better than you do. Nobody casts a second glance at an old dame, unlike you—a beautiful young lady. You better head back quickly.”
I chuckled and grabbed ten pennies from my pouch, “I insist, Mrs. Chwe.”
“And I insist too.” She was a stubborn old lady, “You had a long day, I heard you stayed at the institute all day long. The headmistress stopped by not long ago.”
“Of course,” I chuckled and handed Mrs. Chwe the pennies. The headmistress loved to gossip and talk nonsense, it didn’t surprise me she was quick to let everyone know of my packed day. She was a lady I didn’t quite like, “Are you sure you don’t want me to wait until you pack up at least?”
“No, no.” Mrs. Chwe shook her head and ushered me away with her hand, “Go home and cook something tasty.”
“Alright, have a good night, Mrs. Chwe!��� I bowed with a polite smile and the old lady waved briefly before she turned around with a sigh and started packing away the remained vegetables. I turned around and walked the way I have come, until the main road came to an end and I turned to the left, walking down the deserted street. People were getting inside their houses and getting ready for the evening, the squeals and laughter of little children in the gardens the only sounds besides my footsteps. I sighed and stared up at the sky for a brief moment, taking in the tranquility of the evening. I liked it when nobody was around after a long day. It allowed me time to shake off the stress and plan what I had to do the next day. I turned to the right, walking down a dirt path, small cottages on both sides. A few of my neighbors were out in the gardens or standing in their doorway, conversing with each other. My little cottage was second to last on our street and I walked up to the short stone covered path which lead to the back of the house, greeting my neighbor in the process as he was sipping his tea, holding a book to his face. The entrance was at the back of the house, and I didn’t mind. It was actually what convinced me to buy it. I liked the intimacy it offered. No one could see when I came and went, I knew a few mothers on our street liked to monitor everyone’s steps. I placed the handbag on the ground and reached for the key in my pouch, feeling around for it until I found it. As I pushed the key into the keyhole, I realized my door was unlocked. My eyebrows furrowed and I stared down at my hand, wondering whether I have locked it this morning or not. Did I not lock it? How could I forget such important thing? I scoffed and gently pushed the door open, grabbing the handbag off the ground and stepping inside. Dusk settled upon and it wasn’t bright anymore outside, or in the house, but you could still see well without a light source. As I closed the door behind me and looked ahead, I froze. There, an unknown man, was standing across from me in the room. His back was turned to me and his hands were behind his back as he seemed to be staring up at the wall. At my paintings. I stopped breathing, fearing that he could hear me. He probably heard me enter, yet he hasn’t moved. I carefully placed the handbag on the ground as I kept my eyes on the man, slowly and silently reaching for the vase standing on a stand to the left of the door. It was heavy and old, I brought it with myself from the castle. It was my great-grandmothers. It could also serve as a weapon if necessary. I took in the attire of the man and realized he wasn’t a lieutenant or soldier from the Navy, so he couldn’t have been sent by my mother. But then…who was he? His black cotton pants looked loose around his frame and I could see a white collar peeking out from underneath the heavy coat he was wearing. The jacket looked odd, old and patched up in multiple places, different fabrics stitched to the original one. I didn’t dare assume who this man was, but he looked like he wasn’t exactly a good guy. The second he hummed I knew I had to proceed, so I threw the vase towards him, aiming for his head, but before it could touch him, he jumped away. The vase crashed into the wall and shattered into million pieces, making me frown at the destroyed relic. My mother would kill me right now if she were here with me. The unknown man sharply whirled around, his face morphed into shock as he gasped loudly, dramatically.
“That could’ve been my head!” The man’s voice was squeaky as he pointed at the wall, which the vase initially hit. My eyebrows furrowed at the man’s words and I scoffed, eyes falling onto the pillows I had on the sofa. I didn’t dwell much on the thought just jumped on the couch and grabbed two bigger pillows as I hauled them in his direction. The man screeched as one hit him in the stomach and he suddenly took off towards me, face red.
“Stop right there!” I commanded, heart thumping wildly as I held another pillow out threateningly. The man suddenly froze and he eyed the pillow with narrowed eyes, scoffing when he looked back at me. His face was chiseled and sun-kissed, his jawline sharp. His full lips were cherry colored and his nose big and fitting for his face shape. His eyes weren’t too sharp and held friendliness in them despite the situation we found ourselves in, a mole stood proudly underneath his left eye.
“So, will you throw that one too?” He raised an eyebrow, taunting. His voice was smooth, sounded nothing like the screech he let out mere minutes ago. I gulped and glanced at the pillow I was holding before looking back at the stranger, a handsome one. Without saying anything I threw the pillow at him and he caught it easily, lips pulling up in a lopsided smirk. I quickly took the other two pillows, the last ones, and stood up, staring him down. He dropped the pillow and raised both hands in a motion of peace, but that moved his long coat, the handle of a sword glinting. I gulped before I looked back into his eyes.
“You don’t have to be so aggressive; I didn’t even do anything.” The man said with a tentative smile and my eyebrows furrowed.
“You broke into my home!” I answered incredulously and suddenly realized how smart it was to have soldiers littered around your castle. There was someone who’d be able to protect you from intruders, yet here I was, forced to defend myself on my own. I had to run away while I still could. I had no idea who this man was and what he wanted from me.
“Not my smoothest move, I admit—” The man cleared his throat, still holding his arms up, “But all of your windows were locked.”
“Of course, they were!” I exclaimed, irritated with the man, “So that they keep people like you out.”
The man chuckled and lowered his arms to cross them in front of his chest, “Yeah, and look where that got you—”
I threw one pillow forcefully, managing to knock it into the man’s face. I bit my lower lip to keep myself from laughing as his eyebrows were furrowed and he looked appalled, “Right as I was about to tell you how pretty those paintings are…”
I glanced briefly at my paintings, but took a step back when the man took one towards me, “Thank you, I made them myself. Will you kindly walk out of my house so that I don’t have to scream for my neighbors to call for the constable?”
“Would you not report me if I left now?” The man asked with both of his eyebrows raised and I smiled, remembering all those hours at the castle where I had to learn how to hide my own emotions and how to be persuasive.
“If you don’t harm me, I won’t.” I said softly and the man narrowed his eyes at me, leaning a bit forward, as if he was trying to get a better look at my face. I kept my face neutral and looked him back in the eyes, trying to read his emotions. But his face was a mask of blankness, just like mine, that is until he smirked smugly, stood up straight, and ran both hands through his jelled back black hair.
“I’m not here to harm you, princess.” I couldn’t help the involuntary flinch of my body at the mention of the title, but quickly covered it by starting to fidget around as if I was feeling nervous all of a sudden. The man watched me closely, same smirk still on his lips, “I’m not a savage like that, you know?”
“Then what do you want?” I asked quietly, feigning fear as I quickly made up my route of escape. I throw the pillow at his head again and dash for the door. Then I run down to my neighbor’s house and ask for help. Certainly this man wouldn’t follow through with his plans if I wasn’t alone anymore.
“Money, lots of it.” His answer sounded strangely genuine and I gulped.
“I don’t have much, but I can give it to you—”
“Here you don’t have much, princess.” The glint in his eyes suddenly made me nervous and I tensed, wondering whether that truly was just a nickname or he knew about my true identity. I let out a quiet breath and took the tiniest step towards the door, ready to proceed with my plan, “You wouldn’t have been able to bring much alone, right? Princess Oh Y/N?”
I gasped and gaped at him for a few seconds, millions of questions running through my mind. Who was he? Who sent him? How did he know? What did he want? But as he started looking smug again, I quickly jumped into action and threw the pillow at him, dashing for the door. I successfully flung it open and as I went to run away, a strong arm wrapped around my middle and yanked me back inside the house. I was pressed up against a hard chest and before I could scream, a foul-smelling handkerchief was pressed against my nose and mouth, the man forcing me to inhale it. I tried to wriggle out of his firm grip, but it was useless as suddenly the world started spinning around me, darkness wrapping around my mind before my body went numb, kidnapped by a dreamless sleep.
The first thing that bothered me was the overwhelming smell of cologne. It reeked of men in here as I blinked my eyes open, only to jump up from my sprawled-out position in the unknown bed. The room rocked from left to right violently and for a second I thought my head was spinning, but then I looked out the small circle window, eyes widening when a huge wave crashed against it. I whipped my head around, a horrible realization dawning up on me. I was in a room on a ship! My heart started thumping wildly as I jumped off the bed and stared with my mouth open at the two opened briefcases on the floor, filled with my belongings. Blank canvas and different colored acrylics were scattered around on the floor, and I looked down at my body, realizing that I was wearing my long black coat. That man! He kidnapped me! I wanted to throw something against the wall as I started pacing up and down in the room, realizing that whoever he was, his intentions couldn’t be pure. If we were still close to the shore, I could jump off the ship, and swim back to the beach. But if we were out in the open sea…I was doomed. Was he really here to take me back to my mother? I groaned as I ran my fingers through my hair, glancing at the door. Could it be unlocked? He wouldn’t be so clumsy to leave the door open, right? I hoped he was, because then I could try and escape. I took a deep breath and decided to try my luck as I walked up to the door and grabbed the doorknob. I counted to five before turning it and pushing the door open, making it horribly creak open. I grimaced and hoped nobody was in the corridor to hear it as I realized nobody stood in front of the door. My little moment of happiness was soon crushed as I went to take off towards the right but crashed into a firm chest, a gasp leaving my lips as I recoiled from the body. The sight of the same man who kidnapped me brought little comfort as he raised his eyebrows at me, hands placed on his hips, an almost scolding look on his face. I sighed and knew there wasn’t much I could do now, and as if he read my mind, he took a step towards me, making me take a step backwards.
“Escaping already, princess?” He asked with a chuckle, “I heard you’re good at that.”
My mother would’ve had a fit if she saw me rolling my eyes at the man. He took another step forward and I took another one backwards, back inside the room, “I don’t know who told you that I’m a princess, but they were wrong.”
The man’s face morphed into a fake pout, “I wonder how you made enough money in three years to buy that cottage then.”
“Sold the goods I owned.” My lie was too quick and simple. Nobody would believe it. He took another step towards me, making me back further inside the room.
“Sure you did, princess.” He scoffed and crossed his arms in front of his chest, “There’s no use to lying, I can smell a princess from miles away when I see one.”
“Disgusting.” I scrunched my nose, making the man’s eyes widen.
“Not like that!” He defended himself quickly before he sighed, “You know…there’s a large sum promised to the one who brings you back to your kingdom.”
I gulped and took another step back when the man proceeded to walk closer, “I figured I should try my luck and try and find you. It was a lot easier than I expected, I bet your mother misses you like crazy.”
“Well, I don’t miss her.” I snapped and jumped backwards when the man reached out for me, “And I don’t want to return, so I demand you free me. I can still pay you lots of pennies and even gold—”
“Ah, ah.” The man smirked and I stumbled onto the bed when he took another step, too close for my liking, “I want the royal gold, not second hand one.”
“It wouldn’t be second hand!” My voice rose a few octaves, outraged by his assumption, “What do you take me for?!”
“A spoiled princess who thought she could get away until the end of times by hiding away in a painfully small village, way too close to her own kingdom.” I opened my mouth and was quickly left speechless as the man leaned down; head too close to mine for comfort. I tensed and leaned my head back a bit, looking up into his eyes. There was a playful twinkle in them and he licked his lips, chuckling, “I must admit, you look nothing like you were described.”
I gasped in offence, leaning back into the man’s face as I glared at him, “You are one to talk you—ogre!”
Indeed, I admit my insult was weak and didn’t even make sense. The worst thing was the shrill, high-pitched, almost crazy sounding laughter which left the man’s mouth, head thrown back as he started hysterically laughing. My cheeks flushed a deep shade of red as I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms in front of my chest, averting my eyes as the man started to calm down as he wiped away tears from the corner of his eyes, eyes falling on my face. I knew he could read the embarrassment on my face; it was futile to try and hide it now, “That’s the funniest thing anyone has ever called me.”
I huffed and refused to look at him, that is until I felt his soft hands wrap around my wrists. His hands felt cold as I glanced down at them and then back into his eyes. He had amusement still written all over his face, lips pulled up into a grin. I narrowed my eyes, trying to figure out what he was about to do.
“You truly are a princess, princess.” He chuckled, his hands moving mine away from my chest, “You can’t even curse me out normally.”
“Oh, I can.” I smirked at him, making him raise an eyebrow, “I just choose not to, my genius is above that.”
“What a well-educated and well-mannered princess.” The man whispered and I gulped as I got lost in his warm brown eyes. His hands didn’t feel too cold anymore, however I felt something foreign against the skin of my wrist, something harsh. By the time I looked down my right wrist was yanked towards the headboard of the bed by a rope around it.
“What are you doing?!” I exclaimed as I tried to free my other wrist from his grasp, but he was quick as he overpowered me and pulled my wrist next to my other one, the rope already binding them together. My mouth fell open as I tried to free myself, moving as much as I could so that he wouldn’t tie me against the bed, but it did nothing as the man made an intricate knot and huffed as if it was the hardest mission of his life to tie me up, “You—you monster!”
The man stood back with his hands on his hips, looking very unimpressed. He squinted his eyes at me and then smiled fakely, “I’m not a monster nor an ogre, princess, I’m a pirate.”
“That’s even worse.” I sighed out as I moved my wrists, checking to see if there were any chances I could free myself. The man chuckled and stepped back, looking down at my belongings.
“You’ll have to clean up this mess at one point, I hate it when a place gets messy—”
“You do it, then.” I cut him off with a glare, tugging on the rope to no avail.
“I’m not your servant, princess.”
“Stop calling me princess.” I snapped, eyebrows furrowed as a grin stretched onto his lips, “I have a name, you know.”
“And so do I, princess, but I don’t hear you calling me that.” I groaned as I threw my head back, wondering whether he was doing this on purpose. Trying to annoy me.
“Because I don’t know your name, pirate, that’s why.” For a second the man looked surprised and then he scoffed, acting as if he hadn’t forgotten he never told me his name.
“It’s Wooyoung.” The man, Wooyoung, said and I looked at him, his name oddly familiar. Perhaps I have met someone with the same name before.
“Thank you, pirate, now I’ll know exactly who the royal guard will have to catch..” Wooyoung suddenly became serious as he threw an unimpressed glare my way, before wordlessly walking away. I stared at him wide eyed as he left the room, grabbing the doorknob as he stopped in the doorway and glanced back. Was he about to leave me alone? Tied against the bed?!
“What are you doing?! Where are you going?!” But Wooyoung didn’t answer as he smirked and closed the door, which creaked very loudly once again, and then walked away while whistling loudly, leaving me annoyed and frustrated as I tried to free myself form the bounds, but the rope burned my skin the more I tried. I stopped and groaned loudly, kicking my feet, making a mess of the blanket which was underneath me. This couldn’t get worse, right?
Two days of pure anguish passed by way too slowly, my arms sore and wrists burning from being bound to the bed for so long. No matter how much I asked Wooyoung to release me at least when I was eating, he would act like he was thinking about the idea, and then he’d smirk and draw out a no, then walk out of the room and leave me on my own, struggling to even grab the fork to eat my meal. The food was rather good, but I would never tell Wooyoung; I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that I appreciated at least one thing he did for me, which was as simple as bringing me food. In order to keep me alive, because eating is a necessity every human has. Even a princess. But to make matters worse, he’d leave the door slightly ajar, taunting me even more by how I couldn’t get to it. He made me want to conjure up all the swear words I knew and hurl them at him, curse him out like a sailor as if there was no tomorrow. Wooyoung was a very frustrating person. He would come and try and have a civil conversation with me, genuinely curious about the way I lived on my own for three years, and then suddenly, like a switch was flipped inside of him, he’d start grinning like a Cheshire cat, and the teasing that followed was relentless and sometimes even offensive. He loved pointing out the fact that I was a princess, and how I had everything always handed to me, acting as if I didn’t live on my own for three years without anyone’s acknowledgement of my true identity. He loved to blabber on about whatever he was supposed to do on deck, something about adjusting the sails accordingly to Jongho’s instructions, whoever that was. And then, as any regular man, he loved to show off his skills and talents. Yesterday while struggling to eat my dinner, he randomly pulled out his sword from his sheathe and took a step back in order to be able to show off his swordplay, shouting at nothing and stabbing the air as if his enemy stood there. I couldn’t help but gape at him, rice almost falling out of my mouth, which was very not princess like, until Wooyoung looked at me with the proudest expression on his face, making me burst out laughing. It was loud and so very unlike the way I would usually laugh, the feeling freeing, the shrillness of my squeals foreign even to myself. In my chaotic laughing fit I even managed to almost choke on the unchewed food in my mouth. Realizing what I was doing, I quickly covered my mouth with my hand and tried to quiet down, but one look at Wooyoung’s face made me burst out in laughter once again, tummy aching, as he looked at me with utmost confusion, eyebrows furrowed, and one hand on his hip as his other held the sword.
“Why are you laughing?” He had genuinely sounded offended, and I hiccupped as I forced myself to gulp down the food.
“Because—” I had to take a deep breath before continuing, “what are you doing, Wooyoung? Is this what pirates do? Fling their swords around in the air at nothing?”
“I’m not flinging my sword at nothing!” Aggravation filled his voice as he stared at me wide eyed, “I’m—I’m practicing this new technique San showed me.”
He didn’t sound very convinced, and I raised an eyebrow as I looked at him amused, “Is that it? Are you sure you aren’t trying to impress the princess?”
“As if!” Wooyoung scoffed appalled, and placed his sword back in its sheathe, “That’s least of my concerns.”
I grinned as I tried to lift the fork to my mouth to eat some more, “Yeah, well, I grew up around Navy soldiers, pirate, a weapon doesn’t impresses me anymore.”
“I wasn’t trying to impress you.” Wooyoung quickly defended himself, raising his chin high, the front strands of his hair falling back. His hair was relatively long, it framed over his face. I hated to admit it, but it looked really good. It suited him. I didn’t realize I had started staring until Wooyoung’s eyes snapped onto me, quirking an eyebrow as a smirk slowly etched onto his lips. I sighed loudly before averting my eyes, pretending that I wasn’t openly admiring him, just staring at him in disdain. I ignored the flush of my cheeks, knowing well that if I acknowledged it, then I would become embarrassed and blush even more. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he could make me blush. I dug around in my food, hissing when the rope cut into the skin of my wrist, unable to grab the last pieces of my rice, slowly becoming frustrated. I didn’t notice Wooyoung creeping closer, smirk still present on his face, clearly enjoying my struggle. I really hated being tied up. There was no logic behind it. Where would I run? Up on deck and then do what? Jump into the sea? I wasn’t suicidal, but it seems like Wooyoung didn’t want to understand that I had no intentions of running away. Because I had nowhere to run to. I hadn’t accepted my fate yet; I wasn’t going back to my Kingdom and to my castle, to my mother, to be locked up for an eternity while I wait for my long-lost betrothed. I didn’t want to rule. I didn’t even want to see my mother. I had asked Wooyoung to release me twice already, but he just shook his head and walked off whistling, a pleased look on his irritating face, annoying me like there was no tomorrow. I groaned quietly when I realized I wouldn’t be able to eat the last bite of my dinner, and clumsily threw the fork onto the plate, creating a loud clattering sound. I wonder how these porcelain silverware don’t break on a, sometimes, violently rocking ship. I raised my head with a loud sigh and my eyes widened when I found Wooyoung barely inches away from my face. He raised his eyebrows as I flinched back, putting distance between our faces, his breath fanned over my cheeks. I did not want him that close to myself. When he wouldn’t move away, I glared and placed the plate on the bed next to me, balling up my hands into fists, ready to fight if he tried anything. I didn’t know him and despite him looking harmless he was still a man, and a pirate. All the tales I have heard about them were horrible, and suddenly I felt unsettled as all emotion disappeared from Wooyoung’s face and he looked all over my face, as if he was trying to memorize my features. I gulped, suddenly flustered, my own eyes running over his handsome face. I always thought pirates would be ugly and old. Nobody has ever told tales of young and handsome pirates who returned princesses to their kingdoms. Wasn’t there a price on their heads? What horrible things has Wooyoung done? Suddenly, Wooyoung tsked, and I watched as his eyebrows furrowed.
“I swear,” He mumbled, rubbing his chin, leaning uncomfortably close, “I feel like I have seen you before.”
My heart somersaulted in my chest for an unknown reason, and my eyes briefly glanced at his plush lips, before I looked back into his eyes. I hoped he hadn’t seen my slip up, because I had a feeling he would definitely mock me for it later. Wooyoung, however, didn’t look familiar to me. I was positive I have never seen him before; his name, on the other hand, sounded peculiarly familiar.
“Of course, you have seen me before, idiot.” I snapped, trying to ignore the rapid beats of my heart, “I’m a princess. There’s portraits of me, you know?”
Wooyoung rolled his eyes, and finally, stepped back, but still not far enough. Our knees were touching as I sat by the edge of the bed, looking up at him as he huffed loudly, “I’m not talking about the portraits, silly.”
“Are you saying we have seen each other in person before, then?” I raised an eyebrow, intrigued by this peculiar thought of his. Where and how could we have seen each other before? It’s not like a pirate was often invited to join the socialite parties organized by the Queen herself. Unless Wooyoung wasn’t a pirate all his life. That thought made me gasp silently, and I allowed myself to look all over him again, eyes taking in his attire. Everything about his clothes screamed expensive and they looked fairly new. Not a speck of dust dirtied his outfit, and everything else looked exactly just like that on him, perfect. His buttons were all done, shirt tucked carefully inside his pants, and even the belt seemed to hang around his hips at a perfect angle. His hair, too, was styled and it seemed that he gelled it back in order to keep it out of his eyes. No dirt was smeared on his face nor clothes, and his stance seemed strong, shoulders pulled back, back painfully straight. I haven’t seen a pirate before, but this certainly wasn’t the way they looked. No matter how gentleman like they were.
“I doubt a princess like you roams places like the ones I do, so no, that’s impossible.” Wooyoung retorted, giving me a look which made it obvious that he thought I was dumb. My jaw clenched at his very subtle jab, but I just smiled at him sweetly, too sweetly.
“Unless you weren’t a pirate your whole life, Wooyoung, we might have crossed paths before then.” My sentence should’ve been laughed at, the thought quite out of place and nonsensical. I couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to be a pirate willingly. But the way Wooyoung’s body seemed to suddenly tense and eyebrows furrow was a reaction I did not expect. My eyes narrowed at him as he suddenly cleared his throat and stepped back, snatching the plate off the bed, “Do I happen to be right?”
Wooyoung didn’t answer straight away, just threw a glare my way before he grabbed the handle of his sword tightly. I eyed it as he scoffed, trying to play off the tense air around him, “A princess like you knows nothing, Y/N, stop being silly and shut up.”
“And a pirate like you wouldn’t be so defensive all of a sudden if I wasn’t right—”
“Ah, really, now.” Wooyoung cut me off with a smirk on his lips, again, leaning down to be eye level with me, “You just had to get mouthy when I was starting to debate whether to release you or not.”
My eyes widened as Wooyoung chuckled and ran for the door, just as my mouth opened, “Wooyoung! You nasty pirate, release me, right now!”
He was out the door before I could stop screaming at him, but he had the audacity to poke his head back inside with an amused look on his face, “You can’t command me around, I’m not one of your servants.”
“Yet you bring me everything I need, like a servant.” I fired back at it, a grin pulling onto my lips, the sudden anger disappearing for a few seconds, until Wooyoung slammed the door shut behind him without saying anything else. I let out a frustrated scream and trashed my legs around, until I registered the pain coming from my wrists, realizing I was straining the rope against the already damaged skin. My mother would kill me for turning up bruised after three years of not seeing me.
And I wished Wooyoung’s teasing stopped there, but it didn’t. The following day each time he came inside the room, he would somehow manage to pretend that he was going to release me, only to run away cackling as I just fell back against the hard mattress, biting my lip and blinking away the frustrated tears which threatened to fall. I did not want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry. It wasn’t worth it. In four more days I would be released, perhaps I could survive that much. Hopefully the rope wouldn’t create an actual wound against my fragile skin. It was somewhere around late evening, the light coming through the small window barely strong enough to light up the room I was held in. I figured it was Wooyoung’s room when he came to retrieve fresh clothes this morning, of course mocking me for not having escaped yet. Perhaps if the bounds weren’t so tight I might’ve done just that. I was sitting on the bed, back pressed against the wooden wall, sighing as I played with the pencil in my hand. I somehow convinced Wooyoung to hand me my sketchbook and a pencil, desperate to do something since I couldn’t sleep and stare out the small window all day long. But the light wasn’t enough anymore for me to see the lines I was creating, and my wrist was aching from drawing all day long. Suddenly, the door was slammed open and I jumped, tensing as I thought it was someone other than Wooyoung, but it was him. He was holding a lantern in his hand as he strutted inside while whistling, looking awfully happy and smug, as he cast me a glance from the corner of his eyes. I scoffed and stared up at the ceiling, refusing to look at him after he pretended to cut the ropes while I was eating lunch today. I did not appreciate his humorless jokes. Especially since he was mocking me with them.
“Enjoying the sunset, princess?” Hearing the title roll of his tongue so smoothly only irritated me furthermore, and I refused to answer as he placed the lantern on the desk. He brought that in just for me, actually. But I’d rather sit in darkness than be tied up. Wooyoung paused and placed his hands on his hips, looking at me expectantly.
“Not in the mood to talk? That’s new, you always have something to say.” I had to steel myself from rolling my eyes at him as he jutted his lips out in a disgusting pout. How was this man a pirate? Even if he were to threaten me with taking my life, I wouldn’t be able to take him seriously anymore.
“I see you’ve been drawing today.” He muttered, more to himself, as he approached the bed. He leaned one knee against the hard mattress and leaned forward, grabbing my sketchbook. I wanted to swat his hand away, but I didn’t react as I kept ignoring him. Perhaps he’d get bored of teasing me if I didn’t react any way and he’d go away.
“Oh,” Wooyoung’s eyebrows rose as he glanced at me, “have you seen our ship before?”
We made eye contact but I didn’t answer him as Wooyoung raised his eyebrows even more, waiting for my answer. But I remained unresponsive and he rolled his eyes, “Fine, don’t talk then. The drawing looks eerily similar to our ship, princess. That’s why I asked.”
He was quite dumb if he thought a princess like myself has seen a pirate ship before, let alone this one. Wooyoung dropped the sketchbook into my lap, lips pulled in a straight line as he remained leaning close to me.
“I was in a good mood before I came to visit you, what a pity.” Wooyoung sighed dramatically, eyebrows furrowing and mocking my voice suddenly, “I really thought of releasing you, but—your attitude needs some fixing so I’m giving you a lesson by not setting you free, understand?”
That was the last straw. The tone of his voice, the mocking and malice laced into it made my blood boil as my head whipped forward, face scrunched into a scowl. Before Wooyoung could even react, his proximity allowed for my left hand to smack against his cheek. Despite it being the back of my hand, the slap was strong and loud as Wooyoung jumped back with a loud cry, holding his reddening cheek. His eyes were rounded as he stared at me in shock, and I was breathing hard, glaring at him furiously. Nobody moved or said anything for a few seconds, and suddenly I heard hurried footsteps barreling down the hallway, headed our way. Thanks to Wooyoung leaving the door open, I watched as two men tumbled inside the room, eyes wide and hands on the handle of their swords as they looked around, assessing the situation. They both were tall, but the one on the left was taller, and his black hair was wavy. The man next to him had sharper features and his long hair was pulled into a half ponytail, his corset showing off his delicate curves. My mouth slightly dropped open at the sight, hardly believing that these two handsome men were pirates. But suddenly, the taller one looked at Wooyoung and burst out into loud laughter as Wooyoung whined with a childlike frown.
“Seonghwa!” He exclaimed like a little kid, making me look at him with wide eyes. Why did Wooyoung sound like he was about to tell on me to his mother?
“What are you two—” The taller man’s laughter boomed around us, it brought a smile on my own face, and Seonghwa, the ethereal looking man, seemed to throw him a subtle glare as he had to raise his voice in order to be heard. But Wooyoung left him no chance to speak.
“The princess whacked me—”
“You keep teasing me—”
“Because you’re entitled—”
“I’ve been living on my own for three years, for Heaven’s sake, how am I entitled—”
“You’re still a princess and you keep commanding me around—”
“So you keep mocking me that you’ll release me only to walk away?!” Wooyoung and I were screaming over each other at this point, silencing the taller man’s laughter too, and making Seonghwa look at us puzzled, “It hurts! My wrists are sore and I can’t feel my arms, Wooyoung!”
“Well—well—” Wooyoung went to scream back something, but all he did was open and close his mouth, eyebrows furrowed as he started rubbing his cheek. The tall man snorted loudly, but one look from Seonghwa quickly silenced him. He pinched the bridge of his nose before he cast me a glance, eyes softening for a second, only to turn into a glare as he looked back at Wooyoung.
“Wooyoung,” He started, voice steady and soft, “Why is the princess tied up?”
My head whipped back to Wooyoung as I waited for his answer, glare burning into his forehead as Wooyoung seemed to be avoiding looking at me. He gulped, but said nothing. The taller man had to bite his lower lip as his body started trembling, on the verge of another fit of laughter.
“Yunho.” Seonghwa snapped, “Stop it.”
“Sorry.” The man mumbled, barely, as he rubbed his stomach and jaw, eyebrows furrowing in a funny way.
“Wooyoung, I asked you a question.” Seonghwa said with a sigh and Wooyoung suddenly crossed his arms, looking like a child.
“I tied her up, because—” Wooyoung shrugged, licking his lips as he rolled his eyes, “I wanted to.”
“You bastard!” I snapped, glaring at him, making Yunho snicker until Seonghwa elbowed him in the stomach harshly.
“Untie her, now.” Seonghwa said, crossing his arms in front of his chest, looking at Wooyoung unimpressed. He looked like a parent who was scolding their mischievous child. Definitely didn’t fit the image I had of pirates in my head. But perhaps Seonghwa was a leaderlike figure, because Wooyoung grumbled quietly to himself, but grabbed a dagger from his boots, and looked at me with a glare. If it weren’t for already knowing Wooyoung, I perhaps would have been scared to have a pirate look at me like that with a weapon pointed my way, but all I could do was smirk at him. Wooyoung scoffed as he very slowly approached me, drawing out the action on purpose, taking his time in cutting the ropes as Seonghwa and Yunho watched. The later more amused as he kept giggling, making Seonghwa sigh until he had enough and pushed Yunho outside. I let out a sigh of contentment when the ropes were finally gone from my skin and stared at my bruised skin, hissing as I touched it. This would certain require some time to heal and it also wouldn’t be as painless as I had hoped, but at least I was free. Wooyoung said nothing as he stormed off, punching Yunho’s shoulder in the process when he walked past him, making the taller man burst out into laughter again as he followed after his fellow mate.
“I’m sorry for the discomfort caused, princess, but I had no idea Wooyoung was treating you like that.” Seonghwa’s voice was oddly soft and friendly as he stepped further inside, grabbing the rope and gathering it up in his hands. His words made it sound like Wooyoung was doing something very horrible to me and I had the sudden urge to clarify the situation.
“He didn’t hurt me,” I spoke up, looking at Seonghwa warily as he shook his head slightly, “and he fed me regularly, it’s just that—I was rather frustrated by his constant teasing. Hence why I reacted the way I did, I know it wasn’t particularly nice.”
Seonghwa suddenly chuckled and looked at me with an amused twinkle in his eyes, “You’re rather protective of your kidnapper and captor’s actions, princess.”
“I am not!” My response was too quick, it made Seonghwa chuckle. I looked away embarrassed, and crossed my arms in front of my chest.
“Well, then…” He cleared his throat and stepped back, pocketing the rope, “You’re free to do whatever you want while you’re on the ship, except jump into the water. I can assure you that we will not save you by sacrificing one of our own. Your mother wants you back safe and sound, princess, we’re not here to harm you, we’re here to collect the copious amount of payment.”
“You mean Wooyoung is? Since he was the one to find me…” My voice got small as Seonghwa hummed and headed towards the door.
“Indeed, Wooyoung is, but he’s nice enough to share it with his brothers.” Seonghwa grabbed the doorknob as he stepped outside, “I wish you a pleasant evening, princess.”
“You too, pirate.” I bowed my head as Seonghwa bowed his, and then he closed the door behind himself. I quickly jumped out of bed and stretched my legs and back, moaning at the pleasant feeling of my bones finally popping, and my muscles pulling. Wooyoung could’ve avoided all of this ruckus if he were nicer.
I couldn’t have been more excited to finally breathe in fresh air, so, after breakfast I was already up on my feet and changing into a baby blue silk dress, one of my favorites’, which I had brought with myself from the castle. It screamed richness as the collar was decorated with royal opal stones and it missed its matching headpiece, my tiara. I didn’t have the heart to bring that with myself when I left, scared that it would be a giveaway of my origins. After all, the royal opal was a significant gemstone of the Oh family and of the Sun Rise Kingdom. Seonghwa had been kind enough to show me where the washroom was, a small chamber with a barrel inside, which served as a bathtub; it was rather horrifying, until I reminded myself that I was currently on a pirate ship. I couldn’t wrap my mind around having to live like this. Wooyoung, for once, seemed to be avoiding me as he brought me breakfast and left wordlessly or without even glancing my way. I was ready to put our little shenanigans past us and greet him a good morning, but he barely stepped inside and placed the tray of food on the end of the bed before he was already gone, shutting the door after himself roughly. If it wasn’t for Seonghwa coming to check up on me thirty minutes later, I perhaps would’ve burst out crying from having to sit all dirty and coped up in this annoying pirate’s room, which still smelled strongly of cologne. This was also peculiar, because when I started walking down the corridors, all kinds of smells invaded my nose, making me feel nauseous. For a pirate, Wooyoung oddly smelled like a prince. Gripping the skirt of my dress, I slightly lifted it so that I could climb up the stairs, headed towards the blinding sunlight. The salty air felt refreshing as I arrived onto the deck, the wind slightly stronger than it usually would be on the beach back in the village I lived at. The sky was crystal clear, no clouds decorating it, and the vast sea was a beautiful deep blue, glistening and foaming as the ship sailed smoothly. I had approached the railing and looked over it, marveling at the beauty around myself, never having seen such sight before. When I escaped from my kingdom I was forced to hide under the deck the whole ride, I didn’t have the opportunity to look at the sea. There was something very calming and beautiful about it, I loved sitting on the beach in the evenings and watching the sunset. Suddenly, my heart clenched when I realized I would no longer be able to do that, the city where the royal Oh family resided was a four-hour long carriage ride away from the beach, my mother would never allow me to travel back and forth.
“Careful, you might fall over.” A very deep voice suddenly spoke up next to me and I was startled as I stepped back from the railing, looking to my right. A friendly looking man stood next to me; his lips pulled into a small smile. His angelic features didn’t match his low voice at all. I smiled at him and bowed my head slightly.
“Seonghwa told me you wouldn’t rescue me if that happened.” I said with a chuckle and the man’s eyebrows furrowed.
“That is quite incorrect, we don’t leave one of our own behind.” The man said with conviction and glanced past me, eyes slightly narrowing. I followed his gaze and my eyes settled on Seonghwa, who was gripping the wheel and holding a binocular to his eye as he gazed out towards horizon.
“Perhaps he was trying to scare me, then.” I chuckled and looked back at Yeosang, offering him my hand, “My name is Y/N.”
“My name is Yeosang.” He took my hand, and to my surprise, swiftly pressed a kiss against it, slightly curtsying, “Pleasure to meet you, Princess Y/N.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle as I pulled my hand back, having not been treated with such respect in the past three years. The feeling was foreign, yet it felt right. I didn’t miss it, but for the first time I felt like someone on this ship truly respected me. Unlike with Wooyoung, I could see myself becoming fond of Yeosang. And then, suddenly, there was a quiet squeak behind him, and he slightly turned his head, a fond smile appearing on Yeosang’s lips as he looked down. My eyebrows furrowed, and I tried to look over his shoulder to see what he was looking at. Then his lips moved, but his voice was low and the crashing of waves completely overrode his words. I stood watching curiously as Yeosang nodded, and suddenly, a head popped out from behind his shoulder. My eyes instantly widened as I looked at the young girl, her sharp eyes wide with wonder and admiration as her eyes quickly stopped on my dress.
“This is Hana.” Yeosang’s hand suddenly gripped the girl’s, their fingers intertwined. She looked so small next to him, she was smaller than even myself, and I wasn’t a very tall woman, “She’s shy, but she wanted me to tell you that she adores your dress.”
My lips pulled up into a wide smile as I beamed at her, gripping the fabric of my dress, “Thank you, Hana! It is my favorite dress, actually.”
“You’re pretty too, Princess.” Hana’s voice was velvety and quiet, but I heard her. I bowed my head and her eyes widened as she quickly bowed back, seemingly not knowing how to react. She was wearing clothes like the rest of the pirates, albeit the shirt seemed too big for her frame, and a belt held the pants against her narrow hips. She looked a bit malnourished, but her cheeks were full of color despite her pale complexion.
“Thank you, Hana, you’re very lovely yourself.” Hana’s lips pulled up into a huge smile and her head turned quickly as she beamed up at Yeosang. The man’s attention seemed to be on her only, his ears-tinged red, as he nodded at Hana, a proud glint in his eyes. Hana’s cheeks were pink and she hid herself behind Yeosang, completely disappearing. It was endearing watching the two, watching how Yeosang’s built frame offered the girl protection, shielding her from unwanted eyes and any harm.
“She’s still learning how to accept compliments.” Yeosang explained and I nodded, not wanting to probe for a reason, nevertheless still curious. Yeosang placed his hands in his pockets and slightly bowed his head, “We’ll be on our way, Princess, we’re quite busy today. Taeri and I have collected some new herbs, and I’m excited to make a new tea I have learned not so long ago.”
Taeri. So there was one more woman on this ship besides Hana. It felt nice knowing that I wasn’t the only female surrounded by slimy pirates, although they proved to be quite the opposite of slimy. Yeosang’s comment caught my attention, however, people who knew how to use herbs to make teas were usually healers, “Excuse me, Yeosang, do you happen to be a healer?”
“I’m a doctor, actually.” He corrected and I let out a sigh of relief before I slightly pulled the sleeve of my dress up on my left arm. Yeosang’s eyes fell onto my wrist, eyebrows furrowing when he saw the red skin and dark bruises, “That isn’t good. It hurts, right?”
I nodded wordlessly and noticed Hana just barely poking her head over Yeosang’s shoulder, standing on her tip toes, but she quickly cringed away when she saw the bruises. They didn’t even look that bad, but perhaps she had a reason why she reacted that way.
“I will stop by after lunch with some ointment and a tea, you’re staying in Wooyoung’s room, right?” Yeosang asked with a smile and I nodded with a long sigh, making Yeosang chuckle, “Well, then you’re never bored.”
“I wish I was.” I muttered as Yeosang and Hana passed by me, Hana slightly waving at me before hiding her face in Yeosang’s back. I chuckled and smiled after them, the scent of freesias’ strong as they passed by. I watched the two as they disappeared below deck, Hana bouncing off the stairs more freely when it was just the two of them. I couldn’t help but feel happy that nice people were present on this ship and that I felt like I was welcomed here. As I looked around, I noticed Seonghwa had abandoned his post and was leaning against the railing of the quarterdeck, nodding his head in acknowledgment as we made eye contact. Another man had taken his place at the wheel, significantly shorter than Seonghwa, and with eyes sharper, and an aura which screamed dominance. His hair was blonde and the back strands had reached his shoulders, a black cloth was wrapped around tightly over his shirt on his right bicep. It didn’t take long to realize he was the Captain. I sighed, and turned around, realizing that I still didn’t have much to do. I was free, but still captive in some way and since I was a princess on a pirate ship, I really couldn’t do anything else than stay in Wooyoung’s room all day long and come up on deck for some fresh air from time to time. And perhaps that was the smartest choice, because as I decided to head downstairs, I caught the eyes of some older looking pirates, which looked just like I had imagined them. They were leaning against some barrels, sharpening their knives and daggers as their eyes followed every movement of mine. I gulped and hugged myself around my middle as I straightened my back; a princess never shows weakness. The pirates chuckled, seemingly amused by my actions, and I held my chin higher as I went to take off, only for my upper arm to be gripped and slightly pulled back. The stench hit me first, before I could even turn around, and I yelped once I came face to face with a very old pirate who looked like, and smelled like, he hadn’t had a bath in years. One of his eye was fully white and his beard awfully outgrown, clothes ragged, and a stain on his cheek which I could only hope was some sort of oil.
“Royal flesh on the ship—” The pirate spat on the floor and I gasped, taking a step back but his grip on me didn’t allow for me to go too far, “Flaunting ye wealth while we rot away. Shark food is what ye are, rat. I might push ye over—”
“Easy, mate,” I never heard him approaching us, let alone unsheathing his sword, but it was pressing against the old pirate’s Adam’s Apple in a blink, “Don’t play with something that isn’t yours. Release her, now.”
“Claimed her as yers, eh?” The old pirate grinned sickly and a few of his teeth were missing, eyes twinkling as he looked Wooyoung in the eyes. I tugged on my arm, but the man’s grip wasn’t easing up just yet.
“The Princess is mine, mate, and I don’t like it when someone touches what’s mine.” Wooyoung’s voice dropped dangerously low and my eyes widened as I looked at him, his glare on the man menacing. The old pirate just laughed, a throaty and hoarse sound, before suddenly his grip was gone as Wooyoung’s sword was swiftly raised in the air, coming down towards the man’s wrist. The old pirate yelled and jumped backwards, clutching his unharmed wrist to his chest, eyes crazed and wide as he stared at Wooyoung, “Go tell your old little friends that if anyone touches the Princess their hands won’t be no more. Both hands.”
“The Captain will hear about this—”
“And he’ll do nothing about it,” Wooyoung smirked smugly as he pressed the sword against the wooden floor, leaning his weight against it as his hands rested on top of the handle, “I’m sharing the prize with him, do you think he won’t side with me?”
“Royal scum.” The old pirate spat and wobbled off, his comment making Wooyoung laugh as he placed his sword back onto its sheathe. I watched as the old man joined the pirates who had been previously eyeing me hungrily and spoke furiously to them, probably recounting what happened just seconds ago. Wooyoung looked at me for the first time today, and I couldn’t help but let out a shuddered breath. I wasn’t so safe on this ship, after all, and not all pirates were like Wooyoung. Or like Seonghwa, Yunho, and Yeosang. I subconsciously rubbed my wrist, wincing at the pain; I had forgotten they were bruised. Wooyoung’s eyes followed my actions and he gulped when I showed signs of pain, but didn’t speak up.
“Thank you for that.” I said quietly, suddenly feeling shy as I looked away. Wooyoung hummed and rubbed the back of his head, patting his sleeveless tank top down. His clothes seemed to be fresh once again. How did a pirate constantly wear a new set of clothes, wardrobe never seeming to empty out? Did they even have that much money? Why did the pirate say royal scum? Did he refer to me? Then why did he say it to Wooyoung? My eyebrows furrowed as I looked back at Wooyoung, who seemed rather modest despite helping me out. I thought he’d be smugger about it.
“No need to thank me, it’s the least I could do.” He shrugged and cleared his throat, “Uh, you’re—you’re not mine, I just had to make sure that man wouldn’t bother you anymore. Pirates tend to be…more possessive of what’s theirs so, uhm, by saying you’re mine I made it clear that if he touched you he’d be facing punishment.”
I could’ve sworn Wooyoung was blushing, but he turned his head around, pretending to be looking for someone as his eyes searched the deck. I appreciated his explanation, but for some weird reason I didn’t find it infuriating that he pretended to claim me. By no means was I an object to be claimed, but the way he said it…it felt different. Like it meant more than just a simple claim. Before my thoughts could steal me away from reality, a man called out for Wooyoung.
“Stop flirting with the Princess and bring your ass over here!” It was Yunho, and he was standing next to a man I hadn’t met yet, but he was glaring at the arm Yunho had slung over his shoulders before he went and brushed it off, “Jongho is upset again, you overslept and didn’t do your duties.”
Wooyoung groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose as he glanced back at me, “Sorry, princess, but I have to tend to my real duties now.”
I couldn’t help but allow a smirk to sneak onto my lips, “So, you do admit that the other day you were just trying to impress me if whatever you’re about to do is your real purpose on this ship.”
“Yeah, I—what?!” Wooyoung exclaimed appalled and his eyebrows furrowed, “I wasn’t trying to impress you, stop making things seem like something they aren’t!”
“But you just almost confessed to it.” I smiled sneakily and Wooyoung groaned.
“Go have a beauty sleep, princess, you look like you need one.” I gasped, but before I could throw an insult back at Wooyoung, he ran off to Yunho and Jongho, I assume, getting tackled into a headlock by the man I wasn’t familiar with yet. I held my chin high and turned around, storming down the stairs and towards Wooyoung’s room, knowing that he stored a mirror in one of his drawers, eager to see whatever he was talking about. There was no way I didn’t look spectacular today, I made sure there were no signs that I barely got a wink of sleep since I had gotten onto the ship. Outrageous. Wooyoung was so annoying.
Another day had gone by fast without much happening on the ship. Wooyoung was busy with that Jongho pirate, apparently he had been slacking off lately and the Captain had summoned him this morning, asking for an explanation. When Wooyoung didn’t show up with breakfast, I thought about wandering around in search for the kitchen, but Seonghwa beat me to it as he brought me breakfast and let me know that I might be seeing less of Wooyoung the following days. I didn’t mind, in fact, I was grateful that he wouldn’t chew off my ears anymore; at least now I had a little bit of peace of mind before we reached my Kingdom and castle. It gave me time to figure out a plan which would help me escape my mother once again. I knew she’d hate me and probably exile me from the Kingdom, but it’s exactly what I wanted. To get rid of my royal duties as next in line to the throne. I didn’t want to rule in a place which felt like a prison, in a place which wasn’t complete without its King, and in a place where I would never be taken seriously. All of my mother’s advisors dislike me, and had always been against me inheriting the throne, always encouraging my mother to try for another baby in hopes of it being a boy so that he’d bear the crown. But my mother didn’t want another child as her labor was difficult with me and she almost lost her life in the process of giving birth. I was her only hope, and despite that, all I kept doing was disappoint her. I should’ve felt bad about it, but I stopped caring when she started becoming more and more demanding and pressuring. Perhaps if I could somehow convince her that I was back for good and intended on staying, that I have matured and grown to regret my decision, I would earn her trust again, after all I am her only child, then perhaps she’ll crown me and unknowingly fall into my trap. She’d willingly and legally hand over all the fortune which I would run away with later, once I have ruled for enough time to get everyone off my back. But for that…I need someone on my side, someone who would help me. But who would be that person? I didn’t know many people who would do that for me, let alone whom I trusted enough to tell the plan to. Perhaps…would a pirate be interested in playing along with me if I promised enough gold in return for their services?
That was a question I didn’t know the answer to, and I sighed as I glanced back up at the horizon, sky coated in dark shades of pink mixed with purple and a little bit of orange. The sun was setting, creating a beautiful landscape as the ship swayed gently side to side. A few clouds decorated the sky here and there, promising a storm free night. The breeze was gentle as I sat by the railing, feet pushed through the gaps and dangling off the side of the ship as I swayed my legs from time to time, trying to avoid numbness in them. My right hand held my sketchbook as I held a dark blue crayon in my left hand, drawing out the waves onto my drawing. A few more colored crayons sat carefully by my thigh as I made sure they wouldn’t roll away; my heart would break if I lost any colors. I couldn’t live without painting or drawing; it was the one thing I couldn’t leave behind alongside with my title.
The setting was peaceful, and I enjoyed the fresh air and solitude for as long as I could, no pirate in sight as the deck was empty. I thought they never left the deck unsupervised, but perhaps so far out in the sea there were no dangers of other people showing up. Or perhaps these pirates were just confident about their combat skills and they didn’t have to be on the lookout at all time. However, the girl sitting next to me was so quiet, that I completely forgot about her existence if it weren’t for her sneezing, making me jump. My eyes widened as I turned my head and looked at the petite girl, her cheeks rosy as she looked away embarrassed. She has been sitting by my side for the past hour, not saying a word, just watching my drawing. She looked curious as her wide eyes watched carefully each swipe of my hand, her fingers sometimes itching as she reached out, only to sit back and place her hands underneath her thighs. I didn’t know if she whether wanted to be acknowledged or not, so I remained silent, and allowed her the choice to speak up or remain silent. She seemed content in my presence, and it made me smile to myself as she gasped when I created ripples in the water on my sketchbook, leaning forward on her hands as she pocked her head closer.
“Are you feeling cold, Hana?” I asked as I stopped drawing, looking at the younger girl. She jumped and quickly leaned back; cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Her nose was red and she had started sniffing as she sneezed again. When Hana realized I wouldn’t continue drawing until she gave me an answer, she quickly shook her head no. I nodded, but decided to take off my shawl from around my shoulders, and hand it over to her. Hana eyed the piece of clothing curiously, reluctantly taking it, “You keep sneezing, wear it, so you don’t catch a flu.”
“Oh, Princess—” Her eyes widened as she bowed her head deeply, her hands clenched, “I really shouldn’t—”
“You most certainly should, Hana,” I chuckled and placed the shawl on her lap, “I insist. Besides, I’m sure Yeosang would be rather worried if you suddenly were to become sick.”
“I’d rather not have him worried about me again…” Hana whispered and quickly wrapped the shawl around her shoulders, the orange fabric complementing her skin tone. I hummed and went back to drawing, the late evening breeze was colder, and it made goosebumps erupt on my skin. I should follow my own advice, and head back to Wooyoung’s room soon, get ready for bed and dinner. It wouldn’t be long until he’d bring me dinner, perhaps I still had time to quickly wash up. I watched from the corner of my eyes as Hana followed each movement of my hands with her eyes, lips opened in awe, looking like she was trying to memorize each line I was drawing.
“Tell me, Hana,” I spoke up as I grabbed the orange crayon, “Do you happen to enjoy drawing?”
Her eyes widened and she nodded eagerly, her lips pulled into a wide smile, “I do, Princess! I have made a few sketches myself ever since Yeosang gifted me some canvas and pencils.”
“I actually prefer to paint, but I think the pirates would’ve been outraged if I brought my whole equipment up here.” I rolled my eyes and Hana chuckled, hiding her blush with the shawl.
“Some of them are actually really nice, and Taeri is very helpful and attentive—” Hana abruptly looked away, it looked like she was about to cry, “they take good care of you here, it’s weird. I bet you expected them to be barbarians, Princess, and yet sometimes these men act like little children.”
I laughed quietly and nodded, thoughts straying to Wooyoung. He definitely didn’t act like a pirate, his antics resembling that of a spoiled little child. Taeri I have met earlier today, when she came to Wooyoung’s room, asking if I needed anything or if Wooyoung was bothering me in any way. She had a very motherly aura as we conversed, and I was surprised to find out that she had been living on the ship for ten years now, a pirate herself. Before our conversation could stray to the reason why I ran away from home, Yunho came looking for her, boyish grin on his lips as Taeri told him she’d be joining him in a second. Apparently, they had to check out the supply room, making sure we had enough of everything until we reached land. As I went to close the door after Taeri and Yunho’s departure, I caught a glimpse of Yunho pressing his lips against Taeri’s neck, pushing her down the corner as they disappeared from sight. I closed the door with a shake of my head, wondering if Wooyoung had anyone like Taeri in his life. The thought was sudden and surprising, and before I could dwell more on it, I quickly shook my head and went to dig through my briefcases, searching for something which would keep me warm if I went up on the deck.
“They certainly left an impression on me,” I said with a chuckle, making Hana nod, “but I can’t help feel resignment towards them, especially Wooyoung. He’s the one who captured me, and he is the reason why I’ll be seeing my mother in just a few days—”
“But being a princess must be so nice, I can’t find a reason why I would run away if I was in your place, Princess.” Hana cut me off, words tumbling out of her mouth eagerly, as her eyebrows were furrowed. I hummed and looked off in the distance, eyes unfocused as my grip loosened on my sketchbook. Yes, perhaps, this is how outsiders think of a privileged life. They don’t really have a chance to find out about our hardships, and even then, are we allowed to whine and complain? Are we allowed to wallow in desperation when other people have it so much harder? When other people barely have anything, and are fighting to survive day to day, meanwhile I cry myself to sleep because my mother wouldn’t allow me to paint unless I have attended my etiquette class? As I turned to look at the girl next to me, I couldn’t help but wonder about what her life was like. Wonder what her biggest worries and fears were, anything which would take my head out of the gutter and ground me back to reality. Here I was, on the verge of throwing a fit about not wanting to return home, when the girl next to me seemed to jump at any loud sounds, seemed to become smaller when a man came into sight, seemed to hesitate every time she spoke up, seemed to have scars peeking out from underneath her long sleeves. She was pure and innocent yet the look in her eyes made her look older, tired, and horrified of the world around her, as if she’s seen horrors nobody else has. I didn’t have it in me to tell her the reason why I didn’t want to return home, it felt like I would be making fun of her, taunting her even, so, instead I dodged her question as best as I could.
“Please, call me just Y/N,” I smiled at her and watched as her cheeks turned pink, “I haven’t been a proper princess for three years, it doesn’t feel right.”
“Oh, alright, I shall do that—” Hana seemed to struggle for a second until she ducked her head and whispered, “Y/N.”
I smiled fondly at her and nodded, looking down at my almost finished drawing. The sun had almost disappeared and the air has turned cold, making me shiver. I grabbed a purple crayon and quickly finished the sketch, bringing it up to my eyes, making sure it was finished. I could see Hana lean closer, wide eyes filled with curiosity as I turned towards her and handed her the sketchbook. She looked surprised, but eager as she took it from my hands, staring at the sketch in awe. Her small fingers delicately traced the same lines I had done minutes ago, eyebrows furrowed as she examined my technique.
“It’s for you, Hana, you can keep the drawing.” I found myself saying, taken aback when Hana looked at me with tearful eyes. She was smiling still, but she looked overwhelmed. I didn’t know what to do or say, taken aback by her reaction, so I settled for, “It’s a gift, so you can’t refuse it.”
It made Hana cry and my eyes widened as I panicked, thinking that I have said something wrong, but she quickly clutched the sketchbook to her chest, and smiled so widely her cheeks must have hurt, “Nobody has ever given me a gift so beautiful!”
I felt my heart warm at her words and I chuckled, leaning forward to wipe a tear off her cheek, “Don’t cry, Hana, your eyes will be puffy in the morning.”
She giggled and wiped her tears away quickly, bowing her head in thankfulness, “Thank you, Princess Y/N.”
“You said you only had pencils?” I raised my eyebrows as I grabbed the crayons from next to me. Hana nodded as she carefully ripped the page I have gifted to her out of the sketchbook before she handed it back to me. I took the sketchbook and grabbed her wrist, turning her palm, “Take the crayons too. The world would be so grim without colors, I’m sure your drawings will look even prettier with them.”
I placed the crayons in her palm and Hana gasped, gaping at me as I stood up and dusted off the skirt of my dress, bringing my arms around myself in order to try and warm up. Hana scrambled to her feet, and having noticed that I was feeling cold, she went to hand back the shawl, but I stopped her with a raise of my hand, “Keep it, I have plenty of shawls like that one.”
“Oh, Princess—” She brought a hand to her mouth as her lower lip trembled and I just chuckled, feeling slightly concerned. What has happened to this girl before that she was reacting in such way? I’ve never seen anyone so overwhelmed at the simple action such as receiving gifts, “I am so grateful! Thank you so much! I don’t—I don’t even know how to repay you—actually! Come join us for dinner tonight…Ara will sing for us, I’m sure you’ll enjoy it. Her voice is so pretty, and she’ll be so happy to sing for a Princess like you, Y/N.”
“There’s another girl on the ship?” I asked surprised, eyebrows raising as Hana grabbed my arm softly, and started pulling me towards the stairs.
“Yes, but she rarely leaves her room. She’s—” Hana stiffened for a second, I wouldn’t have caught it if she didn’t stop walking, “San doesn’t like letting her out of his sight, he’s—Would you like to meet Ara before dinner?”
I listened to Hana with furrowed eyebrows, taking in the new information, slightly confused about who San was. Wooyoung mentioned him once briefly, something about learning something from him, but I haven’t seen the man yet. I hadn’t even known there was another woman on the ship, nobody ever talked about her, it was peculiar. But Hana seemed very eager, and so I nodded, not wanting to ruin her good mood as she pulled me after herself, leading us underneath deck. She turned to the left and walked down the corridor, we passed by four doors, until she suddenly stopped walking. I almost ran into her, but noticed in time. Hana was suddenly tense, and I looked down at her, eyebrows raised, but she quickly let go of me and pressed herself up against the wall.
“Her room is the last on the left—” A loud crashing sound echoed down the corridor and Hana sucked in a deep breath, “I—I can’t go closer, I’m sorry, I should walk you there, but I—”
“It’s fine, Hana.” I stopped her rambling, offering her a comforting smile. Hana gulped loudly and nodded, looking down at the floor, “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”
She nodded quietly and slipped past me, figure tense, “I’ll see you at dinner then, Y/N. Thank you for the gifts.”
“Of course, I’ll see you later then.” I bowed my head back as Hana curtsied, and turned back towards the end of the corridor, wondering why Hana wouldn’t walk me to Ara’s door. I thought she would like to see the girl, but perhaps I was wrong. I sighed and took off again, but the closer I got, the louder the voices were from one room. As I came face to face with the door Hana told me about, the mentioned voices seemed to come from inside, loud and angry. It was mainly a male voice, shouting about something he didn’t care about as he claimed that it was his job and nobody could stop him from doing it, and then, a shrill feminine voice shouting back that he couldn’t do this, that he was hurting people and ruining lives. I gulped and was about to walk away when the feminine voice shouted for the man to get out, and suddenly, the door was ripped open and I found myself face to face with a fuming man, who’s sharp eyes looked like they could kill anyone if he stared at them long enough. His chest was heaving, jaw clenched as he took me in. I glanced behind him and found a shorter girl, crying, as her big brown eyes stared back at me. Why were all the girls crying here? Suddenly, the man hissed, and I straightened my back, giving him a glare.
“What do you want?” He snapped, glaring me down.
“Is that Ara?” I asked as I glanced at the girl again, who was quick to wipe her tears away and pat her short hair down.
“What do you want from her?” The man now blocked my path, chest puffed out and stare pinning me to my place. But that wouldn’t work on me, I have been facing scarier looking men compared to him since a young age.
“I would like to talk to her—”
“No, walk along now—” The man didn’t even let me finish my sentence as he cut me off, nose flaring as he became angrier. Perhaps this person was San, Hana did say he never let Ara out of his sight.
“I am here,” I was the one to cut off his words now, taking a step closer as we stared each other down, “to talk to Ara. Whether you like that or not, it will happen, pirate. Step aside.”
The man scoffed and narrowed his eyes at me, sneering, “We aren’t in your fucking palace, Princess, you won’t command me around. Do you even know who I am?”
I chuckled, crossing my arms in front of my chest, “Do I have to know? Clearly, you are a very overbearing person who’s getting on my nerves right now. You should do what I ask while I’m being nice, pirate.”
“Listen here, spoiled brat—”
“That is not how you talk to a Princess!” Ara shrieked and before the man or I could react, she was by his side, pulling him away from me. I watched the two with narrowed eyes, glaring at the man as he scoffed, but looked at Ara when she grabbed his bicep, “San, treat her with respect, she’s royalty. The next Queen.”
“I don’t give a fuck about who she is.” He chuckled, but it was humorless. Ara bit her lower lip and spare me a quick glance before she took a deep breath.
“San, please—”
“I said no, Ara, you’re not going with her.” San snapped, and shook Ara’s grip off himself, “So that she can feed more bullshit into your head?! Like Taeri has? No, Ara. Get lost, Princess.”
San’s eyes snapped onto me, glaring as he went to slam the door in my face, but before I could react, Ara was stood in front of him, standing in the doorway, and not allowing him to close it. I watched with furrowed eyebrows as Ara grabbed San’s cheeks and brought their foreheads together. San’s body grew tense and his jaw clenched as the girl clung onto him.
“Please,” Ara’s voice was barely over a whisper, I strained my ears to hear her words, “I—I will stop. Everything. San, please, let me walk with her. No more Taeri, I will never talk to her again, I promise just—let me talk to the Princess. It’s my only chance to be around royalty, you know that.”
San swiftly grabbed Ara’s nape, leaning slightly down so that they would be eye to eye. He raised his right hand and pointed his forefinger at the woman, “You better keep your word, angel, or else you will regret it.”
Ara nodded wordlessly and after an uncomfortable moment of silence, San released her and stepped back, sharp eyes falling on me. His demeanor seemed to change, he almost looked calm, almost. He pointed his finger at me, “You have twenty minutes with her.”
I scoffed and rolled my eyes as I grabbed Ara and pulled her out of the room, slamming the door after ourselves. My blood was boiling as I took a deep breath, trying to assess the situation and the relationship these two seemed to have. Ara was an anxious mess next to me as she fidgeted with her fingers and when I glanced at her, she gasped.
“I am so sorry, Princess, he shouldn’t have treated you like that nor spoken to you like that! San has issues controlling his temper, I can assure you that he didn’t mean any of that—” I placed a hand over Ara’s shoulder, she quickly averted her eyes.
“Do not apologize for him, Ara, and do not defend him when he behaves like that with you. He meant everything he said, no need to try and turn his words around.” I couldn’t help but feel aggravated as Ara chewed on her lower lip, suddenly bowing deeply.
“I apologize profusely, Princess, this is certainly not the way I hoped to see you for the first time—” She suddenly sniffed and my heart clenched, “I am so embarrassed right now, I can’t even put it into words.”
I sighed and grabbed Ara’s hand, making her stand up straight. I offered her a small soft smile, raising her chin up as her eyes were filled with tears, “Your actions are admirable as many would’ve cowered in front of him. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. Let us walk then…”
Ara forced a smile onto her face as she stood next to me, and we took down the corridor. I had no idea where we could walk to, but perhaps going to Wooyoung’s room for starters was a good idea. If she didn’t leave her room often, I didn’t know if bringing her on the deck was too smart, maybe it would make San leash out on her again, and I didn’t want that to happen.
“My name is Y/N, Hana told me you would be singing after dinner tonight?” I spoke up when the air was filled with tension. Ara’s shoulders were suddenly pulled back, her demeanor changing scarily fast, as a very charming smile appeared on her lips.
“Yes, Princess Y/N, I shall be your entertainer tonight, my name is Im Ara.” She curtsied quickly and I chuckled, intrigued by her change of character.
“Have you entertained aristocrats or royalty before?” I asked curiously, her attitude way too professional. It certainly didn’t seem like this would be her first time speaking to important people.
“You would be the first one, Princess Y/N.” Ara bowed her head slightly and I looked at her surprised as we reached Wooyoung’s room. It was on the other end of the corridor from San’s room.
“What is an entertainer and a beautiful lady like you doing on a pirate ship?” I asked, genuinely curious, as I pushed Wooyoung’s door open, the room empty. He was always absent before dinner, I wondered where he disappeared to every day. Ara seemed to tense because of my question as I led her inside, suddenly embarrassed about the mess in the room. My things were thrown all around the room, dresses falling out of the briefcases messily, and my paintings were laying around on the floor. Ara took in the sight surprised, but when we made eye contact she quickly masked it with a pleasant smile and placed her hands behind her back.
“I was kidnapped by San.” The look on her face didn’t match her words, and my eyebrows furrowed as I stared at Ara, waiting for her to tell me the real reason. But when she just continued staring at me with an emotionless smile on her face, my stomach dropped.
“He—you what?” I asked shocked, and Ara’s smile fell as her face turned solemn.
“I was walking home from the Inn I worked at one night. My boss warned me that Ateez were in town, but I thought I was safe, that nothing would happen to me. That’s when San kidnapped me to sell me off to a wealthy man, but as you can see…I had the misfortune of staying with him—”
“This is horrible!” I gasped as I placed a hand over my mouth, watching her in horror as Ara seemed unaffected by whatever she was saying. Like she had accepted her fate.
“I begged him to let me stay with him, I wanted this,” She sighed, her shoulders slouching forward, “Trust me, Princess, staying here and living with him is a lot better than whatever fate was waiting for me once I was sold.”
I shuddered just at the thought of getting sold off by someone, “Does he do this often?”
Ara chuckled humorlessly, “It’s one of the many businesses he gets by, we were just arguing about it earlier before you came. I don’t understand why I bother to try to change his mind, it’s fruitless. But I—I can’t just stand by and watch as he ruins so many lives—not when I went through that. Not when I know the kind of thoughts which cross your mind during those moments, the dread which fills your body, the despair and uncertainty of what will happen to you. I have to stop him, Princess, I’m trying so hard, but he’s—too strong. He holds too much power, and he doesn’t care at all about the consequences of his actions.”
“He seems to care, since he gave in so quickly to you.” I muttered and Ara shook her head sadly.
“He only gave in because he got something out of it.” I gulped at Ara’s words, feeling the weight of them.
“Will you—stop? What you were doing before, whatever that is?” I inquired quietly, and suddenly there was a glint in Ara’s eyes, but she quickly masked it as she frowned, looking around with fake sadness etched onto her face.
“It’s best if I don’t bother a Princess with such topics, isn’t it?” I smiled, understanding the hidden message in her words, and hummed, looking around, eyes falling on my gowns. I looked back at Ara, noticing her gaze on the gowns too. I smiled and walked up to the briefcase, picking up a beige colored cotton gown, glittering golden like stripes decorating the long sleeves of it. Ara’s eyes widened as she stared at it longingly. I let my eyes run over her form before I looked down at the gown, mentally comparing her frame to my gown. She was slightly taller than me, but seemed to be around the same dimensions as myself, so, with a big smile I extended the gown towards her. Ara’s eyes widened as she looked at me, taking a step back taken aback.
“What—what are you doing, Princess?” She asked alarmed. I chuckled and approached her, pulling her hands from behind her back.
“The entertainer must look stellar when on stage, especially if they have a Princess in their audience.” Ara’s eyes widened as she grabbed the gown, hugging it to her chest, “I think it will fit you nicely, Ara.”
“Thank you, my Princess,” Ara bowed her head deeply, beaming with happiness, “I will forever be grateful and indebted to you.”
“Oh, well,” I chuckled and waved her words off, “you could start by simply calling me Y/N, and I suppose your debt would instantly disappear.”
“I could never do that, Princess!” She gasped and watched me as if I had two heads, “You deserve respect and to be properly addressed to.”
I chuckled and pretended to think, “Well in that case, keep the gown. It’ll show just how grateful you are.”
Ara’s eyes widened and she bowed again, making me bow back, alarming her as she quickly pushed me to stand up straight. I giggled and Ara huffed, as if I had been a disobedient child antagonizing her. She seemed lovely and very well mannered.
“I shall go and get ready, I look forward to seeing you later, Princess.” Ara curtsied and I nodded with a smile, waving at her as she left the room. As I went to close the door after her, I heard a high-pitched squeal echo down the corridor, making me chuckle to myself as I debated whether I should wear or not a representative dress of the Oh family to make Ara even happier.
I didn’t want to out dress Ara as I had given one of my most beautiful gowns to her, but I knew she would absolutely love seeing me in the Oh family’s colors, therefore I chose to wear a dress which has been passed down for generations. It was a cotton dress, dark blue with silver highlights and a belt decorated with royal opals. The dress was heavy and different from the gowns in our times, but it always had a special place in my heart. I couldn’t leave it at the castle, secretly hoping that I would have a reason to wear it at least once. And Ara offered me just that chance, making me feel excited as I pulled the front strands of my hair back and tied them into a braid. The dress was warm and I was thankful as I had been feeling rather cold since coming back downstairs, the fabric sitting snugly against my body. Once I was ready, I left the room and searched for the kitchen a little confused, each room’s door was closed on this corridor and no loud chatter came from the insides. Pirates wouldn’t be so quiet at dinner, right? And then, just as I was about to give up, I remembered the corner Taeri and Yunho rounded yesterday, and I headed towards it, finding a new set of stairs leading downstairs. I grabbed the skirt of the dress and raised it above my ankles as I carefully made my way downstairs, finding less doors on this hallway. And just as I took off towards the right, the louder chatter I expected echoed down the hallway, a cacophony of sounds as I couldn’t make out one comprehensible word. The door was closed, yet it wouldn’t make much difference if it wasn’t, in my opinion. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, pulling my shoulders back as I exhaled. I knew everyone would be staring at me, especially when I was wearing such a dress screaming of my origins and wealth. I had to remind myself that I was doing this for Ara, that thought would stop me from running back to Wooyoung’s room. The woman seemed so sad and tired, I felt like this was the least I could do to cheer her up. She held so much respect and admiration for me as we talked, my heart would break if I were to disappoint her. So, masking all emotions from my face, I placed my hands in front of me and straightened my back as I pushed the door open, pretending that I was walking inside the throne room during one of my mother’s extravagant balls. You don’t look at anyone, you don’t make any faces. You can’t hear and you can’t see. You focus on how you walk and hold your chin high, shoulders pulled back. Your one and only mission is to reach your chair next to your mother. These were the words I was taught in etiquette class, I never thought I would have to actually remind them to myself. Especially not on a ship infested with pirates.
As I stepped inside, the door slammed shut behind me, startling me, but I didn’t react. The chatter continued for another split second, until the vast kitchen went completely silent, all eyes on me. My blood froze over and suddenly I started sweating as all the pirates stared at me, some openly gawking. I didn’t know where to sit. I didn’t even know if I was welcomed here. The older pirates watched me as if I were a prize, something they could play with until they got bored of. It made my skin crawl as I stepped further inside, eyes sweeping over the long table. There weren’t many vacant places, and I noticed Wooyoung’s absence from it. Where was he if he wasn’t having dinner? Seonghwa had a pleasant smile on his lips as he nodded briefly in acknowledgment, however, the cat-like eyed man next to him didn’t look too pleased as he took in my attire. He was the Captain. Hana was nestled close into Yeosang’s side as she sat in between him and Taeri, who’s lips were pulled into a huge smile as she stared at my dress. Yunho was grinning as he nudged the man sitting next to himself, who’s mouth had fallen open at the sight of me, and I could see the rice he still hadn’t chewed, making me scrunch up my nose in disgust. He quickly closed his mouth and looked away embarrassed, pressing a ring clad hand against his face in an attempt to hide himself from my eyes. I almost chuckled as Yunho started whispering something to him, making the man’s eyebrows furrow as he elbowed him. I noticed San wasn’t here, nor was Ara. Would she not sing tonight? Did I mess up by interfering with their fight and by giving her the gown? My heart beat picked up as anxiety coursed through my veins; perhaps coming here was a mistake. And then, suddenly, I heard dishes clanking loudly, and suddenly, Wooyoung’s head popped into view as he gaped at me blatantly. He threw his hands out and gesticulated towards my body, face scrunched up in shock and mild disgust.
“What are you wearing?!” He asked alarmed, eyes taking in the ancient piece of clothing, “What if food gets on it?! That’s anci—”
My eyebrows furrowed as Wooyoung sharply sucked in a breath, cutting himself off. He seemed dumbfounded by his own reaction as he gulped loudly, adjusting his shirt all of a sudden as he averted his eyes. I narrowed my eyes at him and stepped closer, his words replaying in my mind. Did he just recognize my dress? Of course, it wasn’t hard to recognize when it screamed of royalty status, but those who weren’t in close contact with the royal families wouldn’t know the real meaning of it, or the ancestry of it. Royalty were taught about each other’s emblems and relics, family heirlooms, and anything which was representative of their family’s name. Unless Wooyoung was seriously invested with royal families stories, he had no reason knowing about the origins of my dress. He couldn’t have so easily recognized it as if it was burned into his memory. Suddenly, someone from the table cleared their throat and spoke up.
“Wooyoung, your food will get cold, come sit and eat,” It was Seonghwa, voice pleasant as he gestured towards the empty seat from across him, “You too, Princess.”
“Thank you, Seonghwa.” I bowed my head and he smiled pleasantly as he glanced around the table, throwing a glare at the pirates who haven’t stop staring, making them quickly avert their eyes. The Captain just sighed loudly and shook his head, grabbing his cup and drinking from it. He almost looked fed up. I looked at Wooyoung, whose face was expressionless as he turned around and walked to his spot, looking back at me lazily.
“Wouldn’t a princess want to sit down while eating?” He raised one eyebrow, making me squint at him, “I bet your fragile legs wouldn’t last for long if you were to stand on your two feet the whole night.”
I huffed as a few pirates snickered, but didn’t let my irritation show as I walked up to Wooyoung, pushing him over to make space for myself. He gasped as he almost fell into the pirate who Yunho had teased earlier. Wooyoung whipped his head around and glared at me flabbergasted. I grinned as I graciously sat down where Wooyoung was supposed to sit, nodding at the pirate next to me who was taken aback by my presence. The man quickly scrambled to pour some wine into my own cup and I chuckled as I quietly thanked him. Wooyoung scoffed loudly and wriggled himself in between myself and the taller pirate next to Yunho, glaring at my profile as I carefully took a sip of the wine, expecting it to taste awful, but it didn’t. It was actually very tasty and almost sweet. I haven’t had wine like this before.
“Of course,” Wooyoung grumbled as he pulled his plate towards himself and away from me, “you came here to show off, didn’t you? Do you enjoy the attention everyone is suddenly giving you? Of course you are, you are a spoiled princess after all.”
I rolled my eyes and turned to look at Wooyoung with a fake smile on my lips, “I love how you answer your own questions, Wooyoung, it’s like you’re talking to yourself.”
The man on Wooyoung’s left suddenly snickered, hiding his face when Wooyoung’s head snapped towards him to glare at him. I chuckled and thanked Yeosang as he handed me a clean plate for dinner. I looked around the table, finding a lot more food than I was expecting. Perhaps the cook made a special dinner since Ara would sing for us tonight. I placed a bit of chicken meat on my plate and a few vegetables which looked very tasty, thanking Hana when she eagerly pushed some rice onto my plate. She looked away shyly when I complimented her lovely outfit. She wore a white dress with floral imprints on it, the orange shawl I have gifted her earlier wrapped around her shoulders tightly. She seemed to be leaning into Yeosang’s side completely, and as the man was finished with his dinner and sipping on his wine, I noticed the protective arm he had around her hips. Hana seemed happy as she ate her dinner, paying attention to the conversation Yeosang was having with the Captain. I quietly enjoyed my dinner, completely impressed by the cook’s talent as rich flavors exploded in my mouth. Everything was so tasty. It seemed even better than the previous days Wooyoung had brought me food. I took a sip of my wine to wash down the meat, and hummed contently. Wooyoung was quiet for once as he carefully ate his dinner, and I couldn’t help but stare at him. He was holding the silverware correctly as he carefully cut up his meat into equal pieces, and he never rushed as he ate, never putting too much food into his mouth. He chewed slowly and would pat his mouth from time to time with a handkerchief, only grabbing for his cup of wine when he was finished with his food. My eyes narrowed as my thoughts started wandering, thinking of how much etiquette Wooyoung seemed to be aware of. I even dared to think that he was acting like a prince would at the dinner table with his family. When Wooyoung’s eyes fell on me, I quickly averted my eyes and took another gulp of my wine, embarrassed that he caught me staring.
“I didn’t choke despite you wishing for me to do so.” Wooyoung mocked, yet I never wished for that to happen to him, however, I didn’t tell him that.
“Pity,” I muttered over the cup before clearing my throat, “I wonder who the cook is. I’ve been intending to tell them how tasty the food is. You pirates are lucky to have him, otherwise you’d be long dead without him. Especially you, Wooyoung. I bet you’d be the first one to starve to death—”
I couldn’t even finish my sentence before the man next to Wooyoung moaned loudly, barely gulping the food down in his stuffed mouth, “Mate—Wooyoung, you really outdid yourself tonight. I haven’t eaten anything this good like—ever!”
“Thank you, Mingi.” Wooyoung smirked smugly as his eyes fell on me, one eyebrow raised. My mouth fell open, I couldn’t help myself even if it wasn’t princess like. Wooyoung was the cook? And I just accidentally complimented him while also insulting him? I hated how quickly my face flamed up, but I acted as if I didn’t feel it, staring Wooyoung down as he looked at me challengingly.
“And you were saying, princess…” He clicked his tongue loudly and I huffed as I looked away, licking my lips in frustration. I would certainly never hear the end of this, “I’m glad you enjoyed your dinner, the cook, myself, is rather flattered at the moment.”
I would’ve rolled my eyes if it wasn’t for Wooyoung’s sudden proximity. His strong cologne invaded my nostrils as I felt his breath hit my ear, his warmth engulfing my slightly tingling body. I haven’t drank alcohol in long, and it was hot inside the kitchen, it was slightly getting to my head. But I gulped and sat up straighter, turning to glare at Wooyoung. However, I found myself speechless as I was face to face with him, his skin flawless from so close. My eyes fell onto the mole underneath his left eye and I gulped, looking back up into his eyes. Wooyoung watched me curiously, and I felt his fingers sneaking towards my wrist, feeling the fabric of my dress. I looked down the same time he did, my heart racing in my chest. Why was I reacting in this way?
“Why would you wear this to dinner?” He asked in a whisper, looking back up into my eyes. I gulped as I stared into his eyes, suddenly mesmerized by the color of them. Wooyoung had really pretty eyes.
“I promised Ara I would come watch her perform,” I whispered, feeling like a cocoon fell over the two of us as the pirates loud chatter downed out our quiet voices, “I figured wearing something specific for my family would make her even happier. She seemed rather taken by me.”
“Her life purpose was to sing for the royal families and aristocrats,” Wooyoung’s lips pulled into a small smile, I felt his finger graze against my skin, where my bruises were already fading, “She’ll appreciate your gesture, Y/N.”
The breath caught in my throat. Wooyoung has never called me by my name before. As I fought the smile off my face, hating how badly I was blushing, Wooyoung seemed to realize his slip up and he quickly cleared his throat, withdrawing, and looking away. I gulped and reached for my cup of wine quickly, catching Taeri and Yunho’s knowing glances, my body shuddering at whatever those two were trying to imply by the simple look on their faces. Wooyoung was insufferable, there was no way I was starting to take a liking to him. Before I could dwell more on my mixed feelings for Wooyoung, the kitchen door opened, and Ara walked inside. The gown fit her perfectly, accentuating her curves and complementing her skin. Flowers were placed in her short hair and there was a slight red blush to her cheeks, unnatural. Her lips were redder than before and she threw a beaming smile our way. Nobody would be able to tell how she truly felt, her eyes were empty of any emotion and her face was a mask of calmness. My lips instantly pulled up into a huge smile and as Ara’s eyes fell on me, they widened, and she placed her hands over her heart. The gown had a sweetheart neckline, a simple pearl necklace sat around her neck snugly.
“Good evening, lovely ladies and gentlemen—” Ara extended her hand, pointed towards me, “my Princess, Oh Y/N, from the Sun Rise Kingdom.”
She curtsied and I bowed my head, smiling at Ara’s adorableness. She would’ve been so beloved if she would’ve been able to follow her dreams. My mother would’ve certainly loved her for her adequate manners and deep respect.
“Tonight, I, Im Ara, will be your entertainer.” She bowed slightly and the pirates started clapping furiously, everyone seemingly liking the lovely girl. Ara waited patiently for the room to quiet down, I couldn’t help but join in on the clapping, “After my opening act you are all welcomed to requests songs and join me on the dance floor.”
The pirates roared again and I chuckled, looking around impressed. I would’ve never thought I would witness such things one day.
As the night progressed, the atmosphere seemed to get livelier and livelier as the drunk pirates enjoyed themselves. If anyone would’ve told me a week ago, that I would be sitting on a ship full of dangerous pirates, who gather around in the kitchen and sing their hearts out as they drink their sorrows away, I would’ve probably laughed in their face. Ara was like a bright star in the late hours of the night, guiding you through the darkness. She laughed and twirled around, her beautiful voice carrying through the vast room, allowing the pirates to pull her into their arms as they danced around. She was glowing, and when I decided to join the dancing circle, her face lit up even more and her voice rose a few octaves, her song turning even livelier as she sung about a hidden treasure, about a lost woman finding herself while on the hunt for it, and about a rather dumb man who fell head over heels for her, worshipping her as if she were the last woman in the four seas and four kingdoms. The pirates seemed to love this little tale as they joined Ara, their manly voices booming over hers, making me laugh as I was suddenly pulled into a hard chest. My eyes widened when I realized it was the Captain, but the displeased look was gone from his face and his eyes weren’t as sharp as before, his cheeks flushed from the alcohol. I chuckled as he made a comment about my dress, before twirling me around until my head was spinning and I had to excuse myself, stumbling into the wall near the exit. As I caught my breath, I noticed movement from the corner of my eyes, head still spinning, and I turned to see who was standing in the doorway. It was rather surprising as San and I made eye contact, his eyes narrowed as he threw me a warning glare, probably telling me to shut up. I didn’t say anything as his eyes fell back onto Ara, who was in the arms of Mingi, giggling and helping him stand up straight as he has had too much wine. If it weren’t for San’s clenched fists, I wouldn’t have been able to tell that he was bothered by that simple gesture. His face remained emotionless until he sucked in a harsh breath and stormed off, body rigid. Before I could dwell more on the man’s actions, Taeri was gripping my hands and asking me to join her in a dance as the pirates took over with a sailor’s song, Ara just laughing as she continued struggling to dance with Mingi. However, I had to refuse Taeri as my legs were aching, not having danced this much before. The stuffiness of the room was also getting to me as it was making my head spin more, the hotness of the room bringing a flush to my cheeks. When I thought nobody was watching, I made sure to look around, I slipped outside the kitchen and took a deep breath as cool air instantly hit my face. I raised the skirt of the dress above my ankles and carefully padded down the corridor, headed for the stairs. I sighed as my feet felt heavy as I climbed them, yearning for some fresh air. Instead of going to Wooyoung’s room, I went up on deck, raveling in the tranquility around me. The breeze was slow and small, the cool air felt refreshing against my flushed skin. I walked towards the railing and gripped it, staring up at the clear sky. The moon was beautifully reflected in the seawater, ripples disturbing the image as a wave would crash occasionally. I have missed this. Gazing up at the stars as the world was quiet around me.
The soles of my feet felt sore and I stepped out of the high heels I have found nestled underneath my dresses in one of the briefcases. Wooyoung, surprisingly, has packed a lot of my things. Things which I wouldn’t have even considered bringing with myself if I were to come willingly. My thoughts seemed to fixate on Wooyoung as the image of his eyes and that one mole underneath it plagued my mind suddenly, making me sigh as I allowed my head to fall back. My eyes fell on the Evening Star, and I couldn’t help but compare it to Ara. It was bright, beautiful, and so far away. Ara seemed to be a sweet person, but whatever was happening to her because of San was dimming her light. It made me feel helpless that I couldn’t help her in any way, it made my blood boil. How could someone be as horrible as San? Did he not have a mother? A sister? Did he have no respect for women? My throat closed in on me as I forced my thoughts to stop spiraling more about the mistreatment Ara must go through because of that horrible man, and instead, I found myself feeling grateful that the only thing Wooyoung seemed to be doing to me was to annoy me. He fed me since the beginning and even tried to hold a civil conversation at times; there was an attempt at trying to get to know me better. Besides the fact that he was a pirate, who quite frequently dodged his duties, and cooked for his crew, I didn’t know much about him. I wondered where he was from and why he was living this life. He stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the crew, something about the way he held himself and spoke set him apart from the other men. Seonghwa was an elegant man, but his façade would slip frequently, and you could see that he was simply just a man, raised by probably someone very savage. The Captain couldn’t even be compared to Wooyoung, his exterior and behavior were rough. The only person who came close to Wooyoung was Mingi, who’s steps were light and posture always straight, as if it had been grilled into his mind that was the adequate way to carry himself. And yet, Wooyoung dressed in expensive clothes, smelled expensive, and more often than not acted like someone who was raised in posh conditions. His skin was flawless and hands soft, despite handling a sword, no bruises decorated his palms. He spoke freely yet was careful with his words, and I have never heard him cursing. His gaze was intense when he watched you, attentive and analytic, yet never intrusive. Even tonight, I could feel his gaze on me almost at all times. I supposed he was keeping an eye on me since the older pirates were there with us and would look at me like I was a piece of meat. Perhaps Wooyoung’s warning hasn’t been harsh enough.
The wood cracked behind me and I flinched, head whipping around quickly, praying that it wasn’t any of those awful pirates. I probably wasn’t powerful enough to overpower them and with the fiesta happening downstairs, nobody would hear my pleas for help. And to my fortune, it wasn’t a scary pirate. It was just Wooyoung. Which made my heart beat fast all of a sudden, the cool air doing nothing against the flush of my cheeks. He came closer, eyes watching me carefully before a small smile appeared on his lips. I didn’t say anything, but I returned the smile, a bit reluctantly, as he came to a stop next to me. He left little distance between our bodies as he leaned against the railing, looking off in the distance. His gaze seemed unfocused as he took a deep breath, closing his eyes lightly. The soft breeze brushed against his dark hair, and I noticed he let it sit freely for once against his face, framing it. It made his features seem sharper, and I gulped as I looked away, blaming the alcohol for all the things I was noticing about him. We remained silent and the silence was comfortable around us, pleasant even. Wooyoung’s hand rested close to mine against the railing, if I were to extend my pinky finger, it would poke his. My eyebrows furrowed at the thought and I cleared my throat just as Wooyoung turned his head to look at me. I couldn’t help but feel embarrassed for some reason, so I continued gazing out towards the dark sea.
“Are you feeling alright, Princess?” Wooyoung asked quietly, as if to not disturb our serene surroundings. I looked at him slightly surprised and nodded wordlessly, chewing on my lower lip.
“It felt too packed inside the kitchen, I needed some fresh air.” I explained and Wooyoung hummed, his eyes never leaving mine. I couldn’t help but gaze back into his, taken by the glimmer in them. His features were soft, for the first time, he didn’t look like he’d say anything malicious.
“The dress Ara is wearing tonight…you have that to her, didn’t you?” Wooyoung asked quietly and I nodded with a small smile, “And the orange shawl on Hana, is that yours too?”
“Yes, I gifted them to the girls.” I said nonchalantly, shrugging my shoulders, “I also gave Hana my crayons. Once I’m back in my kingdom I’ll be able to purchase tons of them—unless my mother bans me from drawing or painting ever again, of course.”
My voice turned a bit sour and I averted my eyes when Wooyoung looked at me with confusion, “Did you know Hana loves to draw?”
I knew he wanted to ask about my mother, but I didn’t allow him as I quickly changed the subject. Wooyoung seemed to be thinking for a second before he quickly shook his head no. I smiled and stared at the moon’s reflection in the sea, “All of the ladies living on the ship seem to be lovely. However, Ara—you should take more care of her. Forbid San from going close to her.”
“I’m afraid we can’t do that, princess,” Wooyoung’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked away when my heated gaze fell on him, “We don’t meddle with each other’s businesses. Whatever San and Ara do is between the two of them—”
“What if one day you all wake up to find Ara dead?” My voice hardened and Wooyoung’s jaw clenched.
“Then she’ll have a funeral and people who’d mourn her.” I scoffed at Wooyoung’s harsh words, taken aback. His eyebrows were furrowed as he turned to look at me, face pulled into an irritated grimace, “We’re on the sea, princess. You’re surrounded by pirates. You’re on Ateez’ ship, we’re known to be merciless and dangerous. The laws from your kingdom don’t apply the same way here on the sea, on this ship.”
“You should treat people more decently, at least.” I snapped and Wooyoung rolled his eyes, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
“Tell me, princess, were you not treated decently while traveling with us?” I bit my tongue, unable to deny his question. I was treated well, a lot better than I expected, but what about all the other people who weren’t? Who died by their swords? Who were tortured and taken away from their familiar lives? What about them?
“This isn’t about me.” I whispered, gulping when Wooyoung shook his head, seemingly annoyed.
“Then who is it about?” He pressed; voice laced with annoyance.
“Everyone else who suffered a fate worse than mine.”
“Quit acting like a kind soul who’s worried for everyone around them.” Wooyoung’s voice hardened and my eyes widened at his next words, “You abandoned your people. You ran away from home, because anything is allowed for a princess. Because you got bored one day of the comfortable life you were living and ran away, proving my point that you’re a spoiled brat. You think anyone can just do that? Leave everything behind and build a new life without consequences? Live comfortably despite having nothing?”
My blood boiled at the hear of his words and my jaw clenched as I took a step closer to him, shoulders squared back as I glared at Wooyoung, “You sure know how to judge and hold a speech about someone who you don’t even know, pirate. I couldn’t care less about what you think of me, but when you make such outrageous claims about me I won’t remain quiet. Not when—someone who’s hiding his true identity preaches to me about what’s right and wrong. I know you’re not a pirate Wooyoung.”
Wooyoung’s lips parted in surprise and his eyebrows furrowed as he looked down at me, just a few inches between the two of us. My heart stuttered in my chest, but I paid it no mind as my cheeks flared from anger, glare hardening the longer Wooyoung remained silent. It only further proved my theory. He wasn’t a pirate. I had caught onto his poor façade.
“You’re right,” He cleared his throat, lips pulling into a tight smile, “I am not a pirate.”
“Then who are you?” I quickly questioned, anticipating his answer. My skin suddenly tingled for I was right. I saw through his little act and now he was about to confess his true identity to me. I shouldn’t have felt so victorious over such a small thing, but I couldn’t help myself as my glare disappeared and my eyebrows raised in urgency the more Wooyoung stalled with his answer.
“Jung Wooyoung,” He breathed out, looking uncomfortable as the next words left his mouth, “Crown prince of the South Kingdom. I ran away when I was thirteen on a whim, and joined Hongjoong’s crew. I never wanted to rule, my parents forced me into taking a decision. Be the crown prince or be forever locked away in a castle far from any humans. I craved a life full of adventure and freedom, far from my controlling and ruthless parents.”
My eyebrows were furrowed as I listened to Wooyoung’s story, heartbeat picking up again as I looked at him confused. He was Jung Wooyoung? The next in line of the South Kingdom? He was…he was the thirteen years old Wooyoung I have met all those years ago? A pang, which felt like a dagger to my heart, traveled through my body as I gasped and took a step back, staring Wooyoung down. My eyes ran over him, and suddenly all the repressed memories of the little boy came rushing back. The pretty eyes, the mole underneath his left eye. His loud laughter, which was ear piercing and irritating. His put together attire despite him constantly running and hiding in impossible places. His mischievous nature and his snarky comments. The whispered promise before we parted ways of us conquering the world together, of fighting our hardships together, of a love which would be eternal. And then…not even a week later, the news of the little prince going missing. The many letters his parents sent apologizing and promising to find him, promising to wed us as soon as he’d be found. Jung Wooyoung, the missing little prince, presumed to be dead, yet never quite forgotten.
My lips quivered at the discovery and I shook my head as Wooyoung watched me with a confused expression, reaching out, but I slapped his hand away, “No. You—you’re here preaching to me about what’s right and wrong—about running away when you did the same thing! When you abandoned your duties, when you—when you left a little girl worrying and waiting for your return for her whole life! You made her life miserable with your departure, and you never even considered the repercussions of your actions! You don’t get to talk to me like that, Wooyoung, leave me alone. I don’t need you bringing me meals anymore, I know where the kitchen is. I don’t want to see you ever again.”
I stormed off with an aching heart, tears streaming down my face. My betrothed had been right by my side all this time, almost making me second guess everything I had done in the past three years.
Wooyoung respected my request, for the past two days he hasn’t come near me. I haven’t seen him during breakfast, lunch, nor dinner. I didn’t know where he went when I was in the kitchen, and I wasn’t curious. I was beyond hurt and mad at him. I couldn’t believe the prince I was supposed to marry was the one who’d return me to my mother, make me a prisoner of a life I didn’t want anymore, meanwhile he would return to the life of a pirate where he had no care in the world, no commitments, and no troubles. The thought didn’t sit right with me, it made my blood boil. I couldn’t let that happen; I couldn’t allow Wooyoung slip through my fingers unpunished. But if I wasn’t smart about it, then the both of us would be doomed for a lifetime. Therefore, the plan I had been twisting and turning in my mind, found its perfect side character. Jung Wooyoung, the man who would pretend to be in love with me, get married to me, and then…run away with me. If I were to follow my heart, I would leave him behind, but he could easily find out about my whereabouts and then all my efforts would be in vain. I couldn’t let that happen. I didn’t have much time, the sun was close to setting, anchor already settled as we have reached the coasts of the Sun Rise Kingdom. I was nervous as I paced up and down the hallway in front of Wooyoung’s room. I left the door open when I left, that’s how I knew he was inside. There was no better time than right now to rope Wooyoung up into my plan. There was no time left. I had to act now. So, I pushed the door open and closed it behind me quickly, turning to march up to Wooyoung all confident, back straight and chin held high. But the sight in front of me halted me in my steps, making Wooyoung cry out as his wide eyes fell on me. The pants he wore hung low on his waist, undone, and a black tank top was clutched in his right hand. My strong façade broke as my eyes traveled down his bare torso, skin tan and smooth, muscles hard and worked. His stomach wasn’t lacking either as a six-pack stared back at me. Staring so blatantly was very much so not princess like, but it wasn’t often a man stood half naked in front of me. Let alone a handsome man like Wooyoung.
“Hey!” Wooyoung yelped, suddenly snapping out of his initial shock as he clumsily covered himself with his hands, “Stop staring at me! Just because I’m a man doesn’t mean I don’t deserve privacy! This—this is outrageous and unacceptable! Get out, princess—”
“Stop fussing, and shut up.” I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms in front of my chest, “You wouldn’t be exposed anymore if you used your brain and put on that tank top you’re holding.”
Wooyoung opened his mouth to fire something back, but realized I was right, and he quickly whirled around as he dressed himself, doing the lace of his pants as I rolled my eyes at his childishness, “What do you want? I thought you said you didn’t want to see me ever again.”
“I changed my mind,” I snapped, watching as Wooyoung faced me again, his cheeks tinted pink from embarrassment, “You’re not allowed to say no to what I’m about to tell you. And you need to keep your mouth shut about it too, can you do that for me, Prince Jung Wooyoung?”
“Don’t call me that, I haven’t been a prince for—” Wooyoung’s eyebrows suddenly furrowed and he looked appalled, “You can’t command me around, Princess Oh Y/N, I won’t listen to you or do whatever you want me to do.”
“We’ll see about that later,” I muttered with a smirk as I walked closer to Wooyoung, raising an eyebrow at him, “What’s my name?”
Wooyoung looked at me like I grew two heads all of a sudden, “Are you dumb or something—”
“Say my name.” I snapped, glaring at him when he didn’t want to do what I told him to. Wooyoung scoffed and placed his hands on his hips, looking irritated.
“Princess Oh Y/N.” He finally said, making it sound like it was forced out of him, it might as well been.
“And you’re Prince Jung Wooyoung.” I said firmly, making Wooyoung look at me confused. Uncomfortable silence fell around us as I kept staring at him, hoping that he’d realize by himself, but apparently Wooyoung was too daft for that, “Didn’t you have a betrothed, prince? From the Sun Rise Kingdom?”
“Yeah, I did,” Wooyoung rolled his eyes, “But it was ages ago, I don’t even remember what she looked like, except for her name which stuck with me, because she loved gazing at the stars at night and her name meant sky. Princess Oh—”
A wide grin spread onto my lips as Wooyoung’s eyes widened, mouth dropping open. He shakily raised a finger and pointed it at me, making me chuckle amused, “That’s right, Wooyoung. It’s me, I’m that girl. I’m your betrothed. I don’t understand how you didn’t figure it out straight away, you’re quite daft, have you been told that before?”
“I am not, I—” Wooyoung seemed speechless as he exclaimed, huffing loudly, “I just…didn’t make the connection because I made sure to forget everything about my life before I became a pirate.”
I licked my lips, heart clenching weirdly at the knowledge of Wooyoung purposefully wanting to forget about me, “Well now you know. And you’re going to help me out. I don’t want to rule either, not when I know my mother’s men will make my life a living hell. All I want to do is paint and live by the sea, gaze up at the stars at night, and perhaps teach etiquette to little children. And for that to happen, I need your help, Wooyoung.”
The prince’s eyebrows furrowed and he looked very repulsed by the idea of mingling into the life of a royal, but as he was about to refuse me, he looked me in the eyes and paused. I was grinning at him, skin tingling just at the mere thought of my plan working out, of having Wooyoung by my side in the process. Something in his demeanor changed as a light glimmer appeared in his eyes, the mischievous boy I remembered suddenly stood right in front of me.
“What’s the plan, Princess?”
For a second all I could hear was the loud pounding of my heart as my mother’s scrutinizing gaze rooted me to my spot. Nothing really changed around here. The Throne Room was still decorated the same, still as cold as it had always been. If it weren’t for the presence next to me, for the warm hand gripping my hand back tightly, I probably would’ve fainted on the spot from my nerves. I was sweating, I was feeling hot and cold at the same time, and my head was thumping wilder than my heart. This was the day everything would change. I heard Wooyoung suck in a quiet breath next to me as my mother and her most precious advisor took off, headed towards us. Wooyoung and I stood in the middle of the Throne Room, their trek strenuous and nerve-wrecking as they took careful and slow steps towards us, almost as if they couldn’t believe the Princess was back. I couldn’t imagine how Wooyoung felt after so many years of evading his Kingdom and origins to be standing in a Throne Room, about to utter some crazy words. I felt like I couldn’t breathe for a second as my mother stopped a few steps away, her advisor standing behind her, glaring harshly at me and at my joined hand with Wooyoung. His palm was sweaty, but our intertwined hands would never allow the other’s hand to slip away.
“Child,” My mother’s voice was hard as it boomed around us, and I gulped drily, “you have returned, I see.”
Wooyoung and I acted at the same time, my body folding in two as I bowed in front of my mother, in front of the Queen. Wooyoung got down on one knee, bowing his head deeply, showing her the utmost respect. After a few seconds of not moving, I dared raise my head and peek at my mother. She watched us shocked and as she cleared her throat she spoke, “Stand up, you fools.”
Ah, yes, her affection never ceased to impress me. I tried to keep off the sour grimace from my face as I stood up straight, shoulders pulled back, and Wooyoung got back to his feet, averting eye contact as he stared at the red carpet we stood on.
“Princess Y/N, how pleasant your presence is,” The advisor spoke up, making my jaw clench, “Almost as if you haven’t been gone for three years. Did you enjoy yourself?”
The insult was on the tip of my tongue, but Wooyoung’s slight tug on my hand stopped me from saying anything to the blatant mocking of the insufferable man. My mother hissed in his direction and raised her hand, that was a first. She adored listening to that monkey of hers.
“I want to hear what this is, right now.” She gestured to Wooyoung and I, glare falling on our joined hands. I allowed a small smile to slip onto my lips, everything carefully planned out last night. The spotlight was on Wooyoung now, he better be a good actor.
“Your Majesty, Queen Oh,” He bowed his head again, bringing his free hand up to his heart, “My name is Jung Wooyoung, the South Kingdom’s crown prince.”
He paused for dramatic effect and I almost rolled my eyes, his words made the advisor gasp as my mother’s eyebrows furrowed, “I know my return is sudden and unexpected, but after the pirates kidnapped me I was lost. I was merely a child, I couldn’t tell wrong from right, I thought their lifestyle was something to envy. That is until I realized my mistake and ran away from them, going into hiding out of fear that they would find me and kill me for good this time as I had stolen gold from them to fend for myself. I lived in a humble town for years, alone and scared most of the time, until…until your daughter, Your Majesty, showed up and reminded me the joys of life and—love. Until she showed me what it felt like to feel loved, to be in love. I am in love with Princess Y/N, Your Majesty.”
My heart fluttered at Wooyoung’s words and I could only hope it had a similar effect on my mother and her advisor, “I—I regret running away, mama, but if I didn’t do it—I would’ve never found the Prince, mama. I love him and I want to marry him. We’ve been sheltering our love for the past three years, scared of returning because we didn’t know what was awaiting for us. We were scared to face your wrath and his parents wrath, scared that you would separate us despite us being betrothed at an early age. I realized how much my people mean to me; and Prince Wooyoung and I want to rule together, we want to join the Kingdoms and become the next King and Queen under your blessings, mama.”
I watched my mother’s strong façade waver for a second as her eyes filled with tears, a reaction I would’ve never expected from her. She didn’t even cry at her own husband’s funeral. She glanced behind her, at her advisor, and I quickly nudged Wooyoung as they weren’t paying attention to us.
“Your Majesty, we—” He looked down sheepishly, cheeks flushed, making me wonder how he made himself blush so easily, “We would like to get married this week, if possible and allowed. I do not wish to separate from the Princess, therefore may I ask for a letter to be sent to my parents?”
“Oh, what a shocking change of events!” My mother exclaimed, pressing a hand over her mouth, the advisor not looking happy at all, “I thought I lost you, my child, forever, and here you are! Doing the right thing! I am so proud of you!”
Of course, she was only proud of me because I was doing what she wanted, not what made me happy. I almost scoffed, but Wooyoung’s quiet sigh grounded me, making me focus on the task at hand.
“I give my blessings for the weeding to happen this week, but your parents also have a say in it, Prince Wooyoung, they haven’t seen you in too long, they might not be as lenient as myself.” My mother’s eyebrows were furrowed as she placed her hands in front of her. Of course, she was only lenient because I came back with my betrothed wanting to get married and take over the throne. Pathetic.
“I am sure Your Majesty will be able to work things out with them, they have always had a spot for you, my Queen.” Wooyoung, always the sweet talker and charmer, smiled at my mother with a dashing smile on his face, my eyes staying on his face for a second too long. He glanced at me from the corner of his eyes and I quickly averted my gaze, suddenly turning red as a tomato. Why was I blushing so hard?
“Very well, Hugo, go prepare a parchment and my pen, this is an urgent matter!” My mother clapped her hands together, and I couldn’t help but allow a victorious smile stretch onto my lips as Wooyoung squeezed my hand once, biting his lower lip to stop himself from smiling too hard.
“Yes, my Queen.” The advisor muttered with distaste and after a nasty look sent our way, he stormed off. My mother was smiling expectantly at us and I gulped, realizing that we weren’t exactly displaying any joy at the outcome of the events. So, I quickly took action as I turned towards Wooyoung, letting go of his hand and cupping his cheeks as he faced me instinctively.
“Oh, Wooyoung!” I let out a dreamy sigh, faking that I was on the verge of crying, “The world will finally know about love. I’ll be finally your wife—”
“And my Queen.” Wooyoung cut me off, mesmerizing eyes boring into mine. My breath caught in my throat as I gulped nervously.
“And you shall be my King.” For a second, nothing happened, but then Wooyoung’s eyes fell onto my lips and my heart started beating fast again, breath faltering as he leaned in closer. I knew we had to do this because my mother was watching, waiting for us to slip up despite her acts of kindness. So, I closed my eyes when Wooyoung’s lips brushed against mine barely, my whole body flaming as I pushed my head forward, connecting our lips firmly. My mind blanked for a moment and I didn’t dare move, as I felt Wooyoung’s hands on my waist, pulling me closer. My hands on his cheeks tightened and I almost gasped as he suddenly moved his lips, capturing my lower lip in between his as I returned his kiss. His lips were soft and warm, they fit perfectly against mine as we found a rhythm comfortable for the both of us, the feeling of kissing foreign. My skin tingled as the kisses were slow, until I forgot about the presence of my mother and I found myself pressing into Wooyoung’s body, breathing in his strong cologne as his lips picked up their pace, more urgent than before, and my head was suddenly spinning. My fingers dug into his cheeks painfully as Wooyoung’s grip tightened on me as well, lungs screaming for air, yet I couldn’t pull away just yet. Something felt addictive about his lips, about his kisses, about his warmth and his cologne. Wooyoung was the first to break the kiss, much to my dismay, and as I gasped in a deep breath of air, a short but deep kiss was pressed against my lips once again, our eyes slowly opening at the same time. I was breathing hard as we stared into each other’s eyes, Wooyoung’s chest rising and falling rapidly, his hot breath hitting my face in quick puffs. I chuckled, biting my lower lip at the absurdity of the situation. Wooyoung’s eyes quickly looked to the side, but my mother was gone. It was just the two of us. I don’t know when she walked away and I didn’t care. As Wooyoung looked back at me again, my eyes fell on the mole underneath his eye and I had the sudden urge to press a kiss against it, but I willed myself not to. I shouldn’t give in to some absurd urges so early on. His lips seemed slightly plumper and redder than before; I supposed mine looked similar.
“I have to admit you might be a genius, Princess.” Wooyoung whispered and I couldn’t help but grin at him.
“And you might just be the partner in crime I needed, my Prince.” Wooyoung’s lip twitched up into a handsome smirk and I stepped back embarrassed, our hands finding each other again as our fingers intertwined.
My fate might’ve turned out to be even better than I could’ve ever dreamed of. With a Prince like Wooyoung by my side, I knew success would follow. And perhaps a lifetime of adventure, danger, and mischief. And maybe…an abiding love as well.
Next part (divider)
#bvidzsoo#cromernet#ateez series#ateez fluff#wooyoung x reader#wooyoung fluff#jung wooyoung#wooyoung ateez#wooyoung angst#wooyoung smut#ateez angst#ateez smut#wooyoung oneshot#ateez x reader#kim hongjoong#park seonghwa#jeong yunho#kang yeosang#choi san#song mingi#choi jongho#ateez pirate au#ateez fanfic#ateez imagines#ateez scenarios
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Winter's King 10
No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)
Characters: Geralt of Rivia
Note: have a wondeful thursday.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
Queen Jazlene slumps against her chair. She’s barely awake as her eyes glaze over. Despite your deflections at serving her, she’d drunk herself to excess, swiping away goblets that weren't hers. Her constant imbibition has not been missed by her husband. Slanted looks and gristly whispers did little to deter her, your own gentle girding only fuelling her irritation.
The king stands, stepping forward to overshadow his slouching queen. He raises a hand to the remaining crowd; the clumsy and drunken dancers, the chittering ladies, and the boasting lords. They turn their attention to him and hush.
“So I must retire for the night, I bid you all a hearty rest,” he pronounces, “and may tomorrow see a brighter sun shine upon us all.”
A hurrah is sent up in return and the king waits until the large hall falls back into its previous din. He turns slowly, his head down, and flares his nostrils at his queen. His golden eyes skim up and down the table.
“Come,” he takes her hand, “let us get you abed.”
Jazlene yawns and hiccups. She does not resist as he tugs her to her feet, though she teeters once upright. He swiftly hooks his arm around her, keeping her away from the view of the hall. He huffs heavily and ushers her around the bench.
“Maid,” he demands over his shoulder.
You follow as he carries on, finding a door behind the high table. The dimness of the corridor fogs around his figure as Jazlene’s slippers begin to drag. She babbles and gurgles.
“I warned you not to drink so much,” he mutters, “why can you not obey? Why can you not just do what is best for you?”
You tread behind them silently. The king falters and grunts, scooping up his wife before she can slip further down his arm. As he lifts her, her head lolls back over his thick bicep. He growls and presses onward.
As he reaches her chamber door, you come around to open it for him. He doesn’t say a word as he enters and you wait near the entrance as he lays Jazlene down on the bed. She is very silent and still, only the subtle rise and fall of her chest suggesting a glimmer of life.
You peer around as the king looms over her, his hand on the post of the bed as he simmers at her. His other arm bends as he rubs the bridge of his nose. You go to the vanity and take the now cool basin of water. You reach into your apron pocket as you hug the large bowl and cross to the bed.
You pull out a cloth as you sit on the edge of the mattress and balance the bowl against your bent leg. You wet the fabric and lean over the queen to wipe her face. The kohl around her eyes has begun to smear and a sheen of sweat layers over her rich skin. You sense the king watching your deliberate tending.
“You are good to her,” he remarks.
“She will not feel well in the morning,” you say, “I will make sure she has water to drink and a warm compress when she wakes, your highness.”
He’s quiet as he considers your words, “you will stay with her?”
You wring out the cloth and fold it over the edge of the basin before moving it back to the vanity. You face the king and clasp your hands over your apron, “she cannot be alone when she has drunk so much. Once...” you shake your head and let the statement taper out, “your highness, she will need me.”
“Hmm,” he pulls his hand off the post, pacing around the end of the bed and turn towards you, “once what?”
“Nothing, your highness. It was only a memory I had. It doesn’t matter now.”
“I would like to hear it,” he insists.
You swallow down the dryness in your throat, “your highness, well, her mother, the duchess, she is the same about wine. Once she drank overly much that she did not wake when her stomach revolted. If we’d not been there to watch over her, she might have choked on it.”
“Ah, yes,” he stops, just a step away, “that would be unfortunate. I will thank you then for keeping a close eye on my lady wife.”
“As is my duty, your highness.”
His eyes blaze down at you and he shifts on his feet, “but will you sleep?”
“Me? I rest in the cart--”
“We will not leave on the morrow, I have business yet in the capital,” he explains, “when the lady is awake, you will make certain she is conscious, then you will go and seek rest of your own.”
“Your highness, how generous, but she would need to break her fast, and dress anew, perhaps bathe--”
“There are other maids in this castle. I am commanding you to retire for the day. You will need strength for our pending departure,” he bids, “to serve your queen upon the road.”
You bow your head, apologetic, “your highness, I did not mean to argue. Certainly, I will do as you say. Thank you for minding me.”
He inches forward and your shoulders slant as you shrink for his closeness. You see his thick fingers twiddle at his side and his hot breath blasts over you like a brazier. He cautiously bends his arm and touches the front of your apron. You quiver as you watch his calloused hand climb up the stained fabric. He pauses and shudders, pinching the loose thread poking out from the belt. He pulls it loose and rolls it between his fingertips.
“You will have new clothes,” he backs away, feeling the thread, twisting it, “you are a queen’s maid now. Not some castle sweep.”
You squeeze your hands tighter as you stare at his tunic, “yes, your highness. Thank you anon.”
He turns on his sole reluctantly and looks upon the bed. You follow his gaze to his subdued wife. He hangs his head and puts his back to you before he pivots toward the door. He stalks toward it and pulls it open with enough strength to make the hinges whine.
“Good night, little maid,” he drawls just before the door snaps shut in his stead.
You raise your eyes completely and stare at the heavy wooden slats of the door. Your chest is knotted so tight you can hardly breathe. The king’s displeasure lingers even his absence. Is he unhappy with his inebriate wife or is it you? You quickly dismiss the latter. You don’t matter so much. No, his marriage is not an easy one thus far.
⚔️
You only know Queen Jazlene is awake as she spits bile onto the floor. Her head hangs over the side of the bed as she wretches and spews, coughing and gagging until she goes limp and groans. The acidic smell permeates the chamber and you come forward to clean it away with a cloth.
Once you’ve sopped up the mess, you leave her to dispose of the smelly rags and return with a cool, fresh basin and a new cloth. You help her onto her back, propping her against the pillows and clean her face anew. She moans as she keeps her eyes closed, a ripple in her forehead.
“Too bright,” she mutters.
“I will draw the curtains, your highness,” you assure her as you rescind the cloth and rise to do so.
She winces as you pull the heavy drapes together and groans, “my husband... did he not see back to my chamber?”
“He carried you here, your highness,” you explain, “you were not feeling well.”
“Mm, I still do not,” she decries.
“Shall I call for a bath?” You suggest.
“Do what you will but be quiet,” she hisses as she shades her eyes beneath her long fingers.
She gurgles as she sinks down and rolls upon her side. She curls up and you stare at her back. You go to the door and ease it open. You emerge and pass between the guards without. You are no more than a draught to them. As you approach the stairs, your name is called from ahead. You peer down the next corridor.
“Eh, there you are,” Bryce approaches. You can tell by the shine in his hair that he has bathed, “and what mission has you so intent?”
“I am to fetch lemon water for the queen. She has a sour stomach,” you say and turn back to the steps.
The soldier descends apace with you and chortles, “as she would. She can drain an ewer like no other I’ve seen.”
“Mm,” you hum grimly.
“Ah, pardon, I do not mean to be cruel,” he says, “it is only... often we reap what we sow, yes?”
“I suppose,” you allow.
“Speaking of, mouse, it is your turn to reap,” he spins and stretches his arm across your path, “king’s orders.”
You shake your head in confusion.
“The queen--”
“I will send another for her lemon water. But our dear liege and lord has bid that you rest your head. And I do concur. You are only mortal, little mouse.”
“But I must--”
“Obey your king,” he insists and rescinds his arm, crossing it with his other across his chest. “I’ve been given leave to treat you as prisoner if ye resist but I do not wish to go so far.”
You frown. You recall the night before. The king’s orders are not forgotten but you thought perhaps they mightn’t be standing. You bow your head and press your palm to your stomach, another memory flitting through your mind. The king’s hand brushing along the belt of your apron.
“I’ve acquired you a fine chamber,” Bryce says. “Gods, how could one ever be so glum about a bed of their own?”
“Sir, I am not unhappy,” you counter. “I am...” you lift your head, “tired.”
“Oh, how the fates align,” he quips, “come then. There is a bath and new dress too. I was too kind to mention it but you were starting to smell a bit too close to Daisy.”
You can’t but laugh and snort, “hey!”
“May as well take benefit in staying still,” he says, “now, let us hurry before the water is cold.”
You acquiesce and follow him away from the kitchen. You hope Jazlene is not discontent with your straying. You walk along several corridors and up to the second floor again. You do not expect to stop at one of thick doors meant for nobility.
“In here,” Bryce takes out an iron key and unlocks the door. He pushes it open and steps back. “I will come in an hour to look in on you but I trust by then you will be abed.”
“Yes, sir, thank you,” you affirm.
“Be certain to have some of the food,” he orders you, “much better than the goat meat I’ve been chewing on.”
You thank him one last time and enter on your own. He closes the door behind you and you hear the lock twist. The loud grind of cogs does not unsettle you. It’s rare you ever have a moment of solace, though often you feel alone.
You look around the chamber. It is much too grand for you. There is a wide bed at one end with a long canopy. The window lets in a warm breeze as the steam coiling from the large tub dampens the air. The furniture here is just as fine as that in the queen’s rooms.
You meander around and stop before the covered tray on the round table. You lift the lid and reveal an assortment of fruit and cooked oats drizzled with honey. Your stomach roars and clenches painfully. Without a thought, you sit on the stool to gulp the porridge from the brim. You empty near half the bowl before you stop to catch your breath.
You pluck at the citrus and devour the fruit with delighted purrs. When you have glutted your hunger to the point of discomfort, you lick your lips and rise. You near the tub as untie your apron. Your body aches for the heat of the water.
You leave the layers of your filthy garments on the floor and step into the depths. You sigh as you lower yourself in. Relief seeps through your flesh and enshrines you. You lay back for a time and bask in the calm. Before the water can cool, you sit up to scrub yourself clean.
When you finish, you climb out and pull on the shift folded on the top of the stack; a dress, and apron, stockings, and even shoes. There is no cap. You fish around your disposed clothing and retrieve your own. You soak it in the bathwater, wringing it out until it’s not so browned.
A knock comes at the door. You sit on the edge of the mattress and call to the visitor, “hello?”
“Eh, it’s me,” Bryce’s salty timbre comes through the wood, “you sleep now, mouse.”
“Yes, sir.”
He taps the door and you hear his footsteps fade away. You recline across the bed and stare up at the canopy. You close your eyes but your stomach is uneasy. You don’t know why. The bed is too soft, the linens too fluffy.
You puff and sit up. You get to your feet and circle around the bed to the short bench across the foot of it. You tuck yourself onto the barely cushioned wood and bend your legs to fit. You fold and arm under your head. Much better.
It isn’t very long before you succumb to your fatigue. You don’t realise how tired you truly are until you’re buried in sleep. Heavy and dark, almost suffocating.
Behind your eyelids, you see streaks of colour, curling and rolling into visions. Shadowy forests and endless roads, the clop of horse hooves, the rattle of axles, and the crunch of boots in the dirt. The preening whine of the Queen as she splashes wine across your face. You gasp through the acrid sprinkle and fall backwards into air.
You land on a heap of hay. You’re back in Debray, in the barn where you would flit away with Merinda to eat or even steal a nap. She would watch at the window and you would doze or nibble. You look over but do not see her. Instead, another stands at the opening.
The king’s silver white hair hangs in waves down his muscled back. He wears only breeches as he stares off into the distance. The window greys with a storm beyond, pulsing from shades of dove feather to harrowing black. He faces you and his golden eyes glow like a wolf’s.
You sit up and whimper. He prowls closer and closer, thunder crashing as a great gust blows through the barn. Then all at once, the tempest subsides and the wooden walls turn to stone. You’re trapped beneath something unbreakable, like iron, wrists bound. You look at your arms, pinned by large hands. You look above you and find yourself straddled beneath the king.
He leans in, closer and closer, his fiery breath razing over you.
“Little maid...”
His growl snakes around your neck and you wake with a start. The bench teeters as you sit up, your hand gripping your forehead. You blink and look around, clearing the haze from your sleepy eyes.
Just as in your dream, you are not alone.
#geralt of rivia#dark geralt#dark!geralt#geralt of rivia x reader#fic#dark fic#dark!fic#series#au#medieval au#winter's king#the witcher
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Gojo x Reader Royalty AU
summary: you are a princess in an arranged marriage with the crown prince of the country, satoru gojo. when you finally come of age and move into his palace, the two of you are forced to spend time together as the future queen and king of the nation. the future king definitely seems to have a thing for you though.
a.n: the intro is a bit long but gives some context to the story! feel free to skip right to the dialogue. also, this was totally inspired by the kdrama "Princess Hours" or "Goong" if anyone remembers that lol
Part I.
Intro
It’s been officially two months since you became officially engaged to Satoru Gojo, the nation's crown prince. Two months since you uprooted your entire life to live in his palace of gold and glamour, spending your days slaved to lessons about your royal duties.
It was your grandfather's wish; he was the one who promised the hand of his granddaughter to the future crown prince of the nation, solidifying your position as queen before you were even born.
That’s how you ended up betrothed to Prince Suguru, the crown prince of the nation. At least he was, up until he abdicated one year ago. It wasn’t clear what happened, only that it was a sudden decision that still left the country reeling. By law, his younger brother Prince Satoru inherited his spot, and by proxy the right to marry you.
Once you officially became of age, you moved to live at Gojo’s palace with him. You had both been so busy the past two months that there was barely a second to talk, but tonight would be different. Tonight was your first public event as a couple.
~
Evening had just fallen, and the palace was buzzing with preparations for a charity ball being hosted. Major politicians and other royal figures would be in attendance, and it was the first social event where you and Gojo were expected to greet everyone as a couple.
The hours you spent getting ready flew by, and before you knew it you were being led to the entrance of the ballroom, where Gojo was waiting for you.
The clicking of your heels alerted him to your proximity, prompting him to swiftly turn around to gaze at you. He was a dream, dressed in a navy suit with gold accents. The crown atop his head was a sophisticated array of cerulean jewels, the perfect match to his eyes. It was so swift you almost didn’t catch it - the way his eyes widened, the way his jaw slacked ever so slightly. But you blinked and the vestiges of his surprise were gone, replaced by the disarming smile he had around you. Around everyone.
“You look lovely princess,” he commented easily, lifting your gloved hand to his lips.
It was a casual greeting - you knew that. But it was hard to reason with your heart beating wildly in your ears.
“Thank you. You are dashing tonight your highness,” you complimented back, gathering the satin around your legs to give him a curtsy.
He nodded his thanks, carefully placing your hand in the crook of his elbow as you both turned to the double doors leading to the ball. It was time for your grand entrance as the crown prince and princess, future king and queen of the country.
You couldn’t help but think of the ruthless stares of all the guests this evening, judging every step you take, every breath you breathe. Your fingers turned to ice as your nerves began to rise, body becoming rigid as you prepared to steel yourself.
“I’m with you.” Gojo said, lips touching the shell of your ear. His warmth drove away your nerves, causing your body to buzz with his nearness.
You turned to flash him a grateful smile, which he returned with a squeeze against your fingers.
The ball went off without a hitch, following your grand entrance. You were almost immediately pulled in several directions following Gojo’s lead, smiling gracefully at each new person you were introduced to.
Almost everyone fawned over the two of you, sweetening your ears with flattery. But every compliment was backhanded, sprinkled in to soothe over their real sentiments.
“My, you look amazing together! It’s too bad about Prince Suguru, he was so outstanding.”
“His Highness Suguru was a fine prince, it must be hard to be cast in his shadow, you poor thing.”
“It must be hard to suddenly have all the roles of the crown. Please do reach out if you need my support, I imagine you’ll need it. But do not worry, I pledge my loyalties to the two of you.”
Each comment burned at your throat, even if they weren’t directed at you. You would’ve said something, but Gojo handled himself better than you would’ve in this situation.
The confidence with which he spoke, the proud set of his shoulders, the ease with which he fielded all questions, it was as if being crown prince was his birthright. It was like each jab at him lit a fire in his eyes, and he somehow made each person leave the conversation feel stupid for questioning him.
People attempted to belittle you as well, but you quieted them with the same ease as Gojo, which earned you a smile and side-eyed glance from the prince the first time he saw you do it.
The ball ended, and thankfully the amount of nobles approaching you quickly diminished once they learned they couldn’t shake you two.
When you bade your last farewell, you both seemed to exhale deeply at the same time, turning to look at each other. He still somehow looked like he just got ready, despite hours passing since the ball began. His silver hair remained set perfectly, not a strand out of place. The shine in his cerulean eyes did seem a bit dimmer, though.
He stared at you with the same intensity, then placed his hands in his pockets and leaned against the wall, catching you off guard with how little space there was between you two.
“See something you like princess?” he said. His lips were curved, his voice silken in the late hours of the night. How this man had the energy to flirt with you after the night you had was beyond you.
Normally, you’d shrink away from a comment like that. But you felt a rush of confidence after standing your ground against all the nobility at the ball today. So you mirrored his position, leaning up and tilting your head so you were only a foot away from his face.
“I do, actually,” you said, grinning as you caught the widening of his eyes. He blinked a few times, as though he struggled to compose himself.
“Are they always like that?” you asked, feeling brave. He raised a brow, and you elaborated.
“Belittling you, always bringing up Prince Suguru,” you said.
He hummed, looking away for a second.
“Yes. They’ve always vocalized their preference for him. They do it now to get a rise from me, to see me ruffled.”
“Why?” you asked. His eyes slid back to you, and you couldn’t look away from the intensity in them.
“Suguru was trusting - easier for them to manipulate. But they were never able to control me. They’re afraid of me.” he said, smirking like the thought pleased him so. He stared down at you, studying for your reaction.
“Should I be afraid of you?” you asked curiously, tilting your head at him. He reached a hand towards the side of your face, twirling a loose strand of hair around his finger.
“After I saw you handle them in there, I’m starting to think I should be afraid of you,” he said, tucking the strand behind your ear, eliciting a shiver out of you. The smirk never left his face.
You felt the blush creep up your cheeks as you answered.
“I’m glad you’re aware,” you said, the smile evident in your voice.
The sudden chiming of the grandfather clock caused you to jolt in place, and you swear you heard Gojo stifle a laugh.
“It’s midnight,” he stated, and you noticed him reaching a hand up to his temple, his knuckles making small circles against his skin.
You yawned, finally realizing how tired your body was after your long day.
“I’ll walk you to your room,” he offered, and you nodded, trailing after him.
You smiled to yourself as you watched his posture immediately change now that you were alone. He slouched his shoulders and crossed his arms behind his head, almost leaning back as he took languid steps beside you. His legs were so long that it would’ve taken ages to catch up with him if he wasn’t walking so slowly.
You reached up to yank the tiara out of your hair, shaking it free of the tight updo that was pulling at your scalp. His eyes studied you curiously as you noticed him kneading his temple once more.
“Headache?” you asked, breaking the comfortable silence.
“Yeah, my eyes are sensitive to light. The bright lights inside the ballroom give me headaches,” he replied.
You mulled over the words you were about to say, thinking it was probably too forward of you.
“I know a remedy for headaches. Wanna try?” you asked anyways, heart thumping in your ears.
He looked at you curiously, an easy smile on his lips and he nodded.
“Alright, I’ll need somewhere you can lay down,” you said quietly, hoping the evening hid the blush on your cheeks. He raised his brows, chuckling a bit.
“I have a couch inside my study. It’s a few doors down,” he said, nodding towards another door.
You reached it quickly, following him into a sizable room. He flickered on a couple of lights, encasing the room in a soft glow. A black desk stretched across one side of the room, right in front of a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf that covered the entire wall. A large sectional was positioned in front of his desk, the black leather complimenting the other black and navy accents of the room. His rich sandalwood scent was filling your senses, intoxicating you with him.
He closed the door with a soft click, and you suddenly became aware that you were alone behind closed doors with the devastatingly handsome Prince Gojo.
He smiled slowly, making no move to approach you first as he stood by the door.
“How do you want me?” he drawled, causing your eyes to widen a bit.
For the headache remedy. He was talking about the headache remedy, nothing else.
You pressed your lips together, turning to seat yourself at the end of his sofa. Smiling shyly at him, you patted the tops of your thighs.
“You’ll have to place your head in my lap, if you’re okay with that,” you said.
You could’ve sworn you caught his eyes widening ever so slightly, but he recovered quickly and gave you a small smile.
“I don’t mind,” he said, and he settled himself next to you on the couch and leaned down towards your lap. You wanted to laugh at how truly long he was, his lithe body filling up almost all of the sofa, but you were too distracted.
Distracted by how his silvery hair felt like silk against your thighs. Distracted by the smell of sandalwood filling your space with his close proximity. Overwhelmed by how ethereal he was up close, like the most acclaimed artists would spend their whole lifetimes trying to create someone as lovely as him.
“Like this?” he said, and you noticed his thumb rubbing over his pulse point again.
You bit back your smile and nodded.
“Close your eyes, please,” you asked, and he complied. You sucked in a breath as you admired how long and full his lashes were. It was so unfair, actually.
You gingerly reached your fingers towards each side of his temple, drawing gentle circles.
He let out a sigh as he leaned into your touch, his features relaxing.
“Feels good?” you asked, chuckling to yourself.
“Mhm,” he said, not even bothering to open his eyes or use his words.
You sat in comfortable silence, massaging his temples and willing his headache to go away.
“I know it hasn’t been long since we’ve been engaged, but you can talk to me, you know. About the Sugru stuff, or anything else that might bother you. I’ll listen,” you said quietly.
His eyes opened slowly, and you stopped your ministrations, letting your hands pause besides his face. He reached a hand up to grasp one of yours.
“Are you upset that your engagement to him broke off?” he asked evenly, not revealing his feelings toward the matter.
“No,” you answered truthfully. Gojo’s slight exhale almost made you smile.
“I didn’t interact with him much, to be honest. I can’t say I really knew him,” you continued.
“I want to know you though,” you added shyly, and his cerulean eyes flicked to yours. He smiled brilliantly, and you realized it was the first time you truly saw him smile.
“I’ll tell you anything,” he replied, gently guiding your hands to move back to his temple in a wordless command. You were more than happy to obey.
“Okay. Favorite dessert?” you asked, your fingers at his temple again.
“Kikufuku. But I’ll eat anything sweet. You?” he replied, his eyes still closed.
“Anything matcha. But I also love strawberries and nutella,” you said, pleased as he hummed his approval.
“Favorite color?” he asked.
“Hmm, navy and sage green. You?”
“I like all shades of blue. And black, and white,” he said, and you laughed, eyes scanning that exact color palette in this room.
“I can tell,” you said, and he opened his eyes to smile boyishly at you.
The two of you continued to go back and forth, time escaping you as you discovered new things about each other.
You mused over the new information you had about your fiance. He likes cats, romance movies, and plants - especially ones with pretty flowers. His favorite food is udon, and he can’t stand peas. He has an enormous family, but he’s only close with a younger cousin named Megumi. He looked especially happy to be talking about messing with him, and you hoped to meet him soon.
“Do you ever feel scared about becoming king?” you dared to ask, feeling the tiniest bit closer to him after playing 20 questions.
He looked thoughtful for a while, and you ceased your massage on his temple.
“I know I have what it takes to be the greatest King this country has seen in a long time. And I have every intention to become just that, for my people and for me,” he said solemnly, spoken with the confidence and pride of a true royal.
“It’s rare, but I do feel scared sometimes. I never thought I’d have to do this alone,” he admitted after a while, his brows furrowing slightly as he appeared lost in thought.
“What do you mean?” you pressed gently.
“Suguru was supposed to be King, I knew that. We had the same vision to grow up and make our kingdom the most powerful, to rule together. But he changed suddenly, like a switch snapped and he was a different person,” he said, throat bobbing as he spoke.
“He’s not well. We haven’t spoke since he gave up the throne,” he almost whispered. You blinked a few times as you stared at him, Prince Gojo. A capable future king, but a younger brother at the same time, who was grieving over his brother.
You wordlessly slipped your hand into his hand, and he tensed for a second before relaxing and wrapping his fingers around yours.
“I’m with you,” you said, using the same words he gave you earlier.
Loaded silence filled the room. You worried you might’ve scared him off, might’ve forced him to talk about things he wasn’t ready to address yet because a few beats too many passed without him saying anything.
“You’re not alone, my prince. I know it wasn’t your choice, but I’m here to share your burdens. Hear your truths. I’m not going anywhere,” you promised, meaning every word.
“Thank you,” he finally said, his voice heavy with emotion he wasn’t ready to share yet. But you smiled as he squeezed your hand.
“Mhm,” you responded, beginning to thread your right hand through his pearl locks.
His eyes shot closed once again as he let out a soft groan, leaning his head back to chase your touch.
“Fuck, if you keep doing that there won’t be any words out of me for a while,” he said, and you laughed.
“You’re just like a cat,” you noted, the smile evident in your voice. You lightly scraped your fingernails against his scalp, finally seeing all the tension dissolve in his face.
“I would be happy to be a cat if I got to sit in your lap and get petted all day,” he drawled and you blushed at the deeper tone he adopted.
You opened your mouth to say something but stopped yourself as you noted the sated, sleepy smile on his face. The big, bad Prince Gojo was relaxed for once, and he looked painfully handsome.
Shaking your head to yourself, you continued silently stroking your hands through his hair, watching as his breaths slowed and became even. His lips parted slightly as his body relaxed with sleep, the side of his cheek turning to lay against your thigh.
You smiled to yourself, not ceasing your touch until you fell asleep yourself.
#gojo x reader#gojo fanfic#jjk x reader#gojo fluff#gojo satoru#gojou satoru x reader#arranged marriage#forced proximity#female reader#gojo x y/n#gojo x you
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All The Love | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader
*GIF isn't mine.*
Summary: Daryl loved tucking his daughter into bed. It was the perfect time for him to bond with her on a deeper level. While reading to her, she tells him something he hadn't heard from her yet, making him very emotional.
Genre: Fluff.
Era: Alexandria, post Saviour arc.
Warnings: None.
Word count: 1.1k.
A/n: Based on this post by @louifaith. This was pretty rushed because I'm tired and have a small headache, but I hope you like this nonetheless!
➳༻❀✿❀༺➳
“And as the weddin' bells chimed, the prince and his bride walked down the aisle, hand in hand, wavin' to the people who had come from far and wide to witness the unification of their love. As the happy couple descended down the grand staircase, the former king watched his son, notin' the happy smile on his face, and knew that the future king had made the right decision; he had chosen love above everythin' else, and tha' was wha's important.”
“What's a wedding, Daddy?” Hazel questioned, sleepily gazing up at Daryl through half lidded eyes.
Daryl looked up from the book and gave his four-year old daughter a small smile, reaching forward to gently push the hair away from her face. “A weddin' is somethin' tha' two people who love each other very much plan. S'so tha' they can make a promise to always stay with each other, so tha' their friends and family can see 'em pledge their love to one another.”
“Like you and Mama?”
Daryl chuckled and shook his head. “Yer mama and I didn't have a proper weddin'. We only had a weddin' between us in our bedroom. Our family found out 'bout it the next day.”
Hazel nodded slowly, trying to fully grasp what her father was telling her. “So you don't have to have a wedding if you don't want to?”
Daryl nodded. “Exactly.”
“What about me, Daddy?” Hazel asked again, staring up at Daryl in curiosity. “Do I have to plan a wedding for me one day?.”
“Hopefully not,” Daryl muttered to himself, before shaking his head and plastering another smile onto his face. “Only if ya want, Hazelnut. S'not mandatory.” He reached for the covers and drew it over her body, tucking her in tightly. “Now c'mon, ya lil' gremlin. S'time fer bed.”
Daryl leaned forward to place a kiss on Hazel's forehead. However, Hazel took Daryl's face in her small, chubby hands and rubbed the tip of her nose against his for an Eskimo kiss. Daryl smiled and returned the small, tender gesture, waiting for Hazel to pull back first.
“I love you, Daddy,” Hazel told Daryl, finally letting go of his face to rest her head back against her pillow.
Daryl froze for a moment, not believing his ears, before snapping out of it and sending her a small smile. “I love ya more, Hazelnut. Try and get some rest, alrigh'? We'll play again in the mornin'.”
“Goodnight, Daddy,” Hazel greeted Daryl sleepily, turning over on her side and closing her eyes.
“Nigh', Hazelnut.”
Daryl stood up from the bed and walked out of the room, quietly closing the door behind him. In a daze, Daryl walked through the short hallway and into the room he shared with you. Once inside, he closed the door and stood unmoving for a few moments, simply staring ahead at where you sat.
Looking up from your book, you sent Daryl a small, inviting smile. However, your smile vanished when you saw the tears that prickled at the corners of your husband's eyes, your heart dropping at the sight.
“Baby, what's wrong?” you asked hurriedly, setting your book aside.
Daryl's eyes met yours. He shook his head, desperately trying to gather his racing thoughts. “I dun'—Hazel, she—she—”
“Come here,” you cut him off softly, motioning for him to come closer.
Without needing any further persuading, Daryl moved forward and practically collapsed on top of you, but he made sure not to crush you under his body weight. He settled himself against you, comfortably resting his head on your chest. You wrapped your arms around him, bringing one hand to gently thread through his hair. That's all it took for Daryl to fully break down.
You pressed a tender kiss to the top of his head, whispering sweet, reassuring nothings into his hair. Daryl cried into your shirt, gripping it tightly to try and anchor himself back down to reality. His mind was racing at a million miles a second, with no sign of stopping in the near future.
“Shh, it's okay, Baby. I got you. I got you,” you whispered sweetly, holding your husband tightly.
A few minutes passed with you holding the man that you loved, allowing him to cry into your shirt for reasons you didn't know of yet. When Daryl finally managed to calm his cries down to sniffles, you gently scratched his scalp, gazing down at him in concern.
“Daryl—”
“M'alrigh',” Daryl hiccupped, burying his head deeper into your chest. “I jus' overreacted, s'all.”
“No, none of that,” you chastised, clicking your tongue in dissatisfaction. “What's got you so upset, love?”
“M'not upset,” Daryl corrected you, lifting his head to gaze up into your eyes. “Quite the opposite, actually.”
“Then what is it?” you gently urged, cupping your husband's cheek in your hand. “You know you can tell me anything.”
“I jus'... Hazel told me she loves me. She ain't ever explicitly told me tha' before,” Daryl explained, his grip on your shirt tightening. “S'so surreal to me. It was unexpected. I can't believe tha' someone so perfect, someone tha' I helped make, can love me, yet she does. She told me tha' herself.”
“Baby,” you laughed softly, a smile on your face. “Of course she loves you. Our daughter adores you, Daryl. She might love you more than she loves me, but I'm okay with that. You deserve all the love in the world, and we're gonna give it to you. We'll always love you.”
Daryl could feel a lump form in his throat again, but he swallowed it down. He smiled at you softly, his heart swelling with love. He let one of his hands drift down to your stomach, rubbing at the small bump that had started to form there.
“Even this lil' bean?” Daryl asked rhetorically, sending you a playful smile. He knew exactly what your answer was going to be, but it was always nice to have that little bit of reassurance.
You rolled your eyes affectionately and nodded. “Especially this little bean. It's impossible not to love you, Daryl. You're amazing.”
“Nah, yer the amazin' one. Ya and our lil' girl.” Daryl stopped for a beat before continuing. “I love ya, peach.”
You smiled fondly. “I love you too, Daryl. More than you can ever know.”
Daryl lowered his head down to your stomach, placing a soft kiss over the clothed skin. “And I love ya too, lil' one. I can't wait to meet ya.”
#krys writes .ೃ࿐#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon#the walking dead#dad!daryl#dad!daryl dixon#daryl x reader#twd daryl#daryl dixon x female reader#daryl dixon imagine#daryl dixon the walking dead#the walking dead daryl#daryl#daryl fanfiction#twd daryl x reader#daryl x female reader#daryl x you#daryl x y/n#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon fanfic#daryl dixon x y/n#daryl dixon x you
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— THE DANCE between dragons ʾ ⋆
summary ; request by anon.
“possibly a little love triangle request?? Jacaerys/Reader/Aemond but Jacaerys ends up coming out on top?”
pairing ; jacaerys velaryon x reader x aemond targaryen
notes ; i absolutely LOVE jacaerys ever since ep 8,, what a respectful king he is!! warning: this is lengthy!
being offered the hand of an established lord was a glorious feat that was longed for by any waiting lady in the realm. to find a husband that has not only the name, the title, but also lands and wealth to shower his soon-to-be family with. this would not only strengthen ties within the houses of the realm, but ensure that any lords daughter would be well treated, well respected, and well cared for.
but, to get two hands of established lords was unprecedented. you seemed to be in such predicament. to add fuel to the fire, they were both princes. to say your family was merely ecstatic wouldn’t be doing it justice.
one velaryon and one targaryen. the eldest child of laenor velaryon and the princess rhaenyra targaryen, and the youngest son of his grace, king viserys targaryen and his wife, queen alicent hightower. jacaerys velaryon, future heir to the iron throne, and aemond targaryen, the one-eyed prince.
you had been in the presence of aemond longer than you had to jacaerys, being the dutiful lady-in-waiting to the formers older sister, princess helaena. brought to court in king’s landing by your lord father, you were first caught by aemond targaryen – a child with a serious facade who had only smiled when he caught your eye. he would ensure that you were content, always lingering around in the shadows like a lost pup. he envied the time his sister had with you and always pestered his sister with questions.
does she like flowers? what’s her favorite pie? do you think she cares if i have a dragon or not?
that was when he had two eyes.
now, he was a man grown and hardened. donning an eyepatch and a scar on his left eye, he was no different than how he was as a boy when he was with you.
kind, charismatic, and funny. sure, he was all too teasing sometimes, but he always knew the right thing to say afterward so that you could never stay upset. the boyish things he used to do when he was younger; gently shove you as he passed by, mutter playful taunts under his breath, and interrupt your time with his sister princess, was vastly different than the way he treated you now. now, he brought flowers every now and then – even going as far to claim that they were from your native lands. they weren’t, of course, but it was obvious from his dragon riding attire and the dirt underneath his fingernails that he had gone out of kings landing in search of a bouquet worthy of your attention.
bringing you a book, staying by your side in silence as you answered scriptures sent to you by your family, and sitting by you and eating his dinner by your side. offering a dragon ride – anything, to keep you entertained and keep you in king’s landing.
it was adorable, his queen mother had thought. although princess helaena was married to her brother, prince aegon, and no longer needed a lady-in-waiting, the royal family kept you by their side (or rather aemond’s side) for aemond’s sake. you kept him out of trouble and brought light back to the prince’s once dull life.
from the beginning, these interactions had left your heart fluttering and your stomach in a knot. however, as of late with prince jacaerys’ arrival, the feeling had quelled and moved from aemond to jacaerys.
jacaerys velaryon, was no different. when his family returned to court at king’s landing and was greeted by the king, the queen, his uncle and aunt, and surprisingly you, he was head over heels. in your house colors and a long gown that covered your ankles, with long sleeves that looped through your fingers bound by jewelry, he thought he had met the entity of the maiden he had heard maesters and small-folk speak about.
beautiful and radiant, he knew he had to get to know you. the only thing in his way was the stone dragon that ever so protectively stood in front of you, almost shielding your presence from his nephew. it was like a silent exchange between the two when they made eye contact – you were aemond’s.
that didn’t stop jacaerys though. with each action aemond had for you, jacaerys had an equal and sometimes even greater reaction.
he was less obvious and more of how a lord should act; offering his hand to you when ever you climbed stairs or descended from a carriage, being the first to arrive at your apartment chamber to summon you to break your fast. he was constantly a new figure in your life and often asked questions about your native lands. you couldn’t tell him much – years of being away from home, it had turned into a distant memory rather than a fresh remembrance. he had told you one day, when you announced your discontent at being away from home so long, that he would take you. that statement alone was enough to make you fall.
that was when the dance between the dragons started and the revival of their long feud began.
“dear (y/n),” aemond’s voice brings you back to the present. you halt your tracks and turn your head toward the direction of his voice, a smile brightening both of your faces. you give him a customary curtsy as he approaches with long strides. “where are you off to in such a hurry?”
you hadn’t realized how fast you were walking or where you were even going.
“i was going to the godswood to read, my prince. i find that it’s both quiet and relaxing to be there,” you reply, rediscovering the reason for being out of your chambers.
aemond relaxes his shoulders and puts his hands behind his back, “no need for formalities, my lady, would you care if i joined?”
the question wasn’t surprising at all, aemond was always by your side. it was rather poetic and sweet.
“i would love if you joined me, prince aemond.” at your affirmation, aemond sticks out his right arm and you gladly grasp it, taking care to stay in his line of sight as you readjust your hold on your book. his other hand falls onto the one holding his arm, his fingers, long and warm, curled around yours. “how are you fairing with the return of your nephews?”
perhaps you should have waited to ask him, for his face turned dark.
“my nephews and half-sister are like the plague. they turn everything sour and seem to ruin–” when he feels your head turn and his eyes on his side profile, he halts his word assault on his family, “though, the kitchen cooks are preparing better meals every day. i assume that is the only light of their presence.”
“aemond,” you say carefully, raising your brows. the prince sighs and continues to lead you to the godswood, and soon enough, the halls open into an enormous, open courtyard with a single weirwood tree. “they are your family.”
aemond wants to pull his hair out, freely say obscenities and announce their bastard parentage – but he had sworn his mother that he would stop with the strong insults.
“family,” he tastes the word on his tongue before gently dropping your hand from his arm. he approaches the weirwood tree and collapses to the ground, legs spread open and bent at the knee. “is a peculiar thing.”
you follow but more gracefully, bending your knees and sliding on to the grass. you splay out your dress, doing care to keep your modesty. you allow the silence to engulf you two and think about your choice of words next, “how so?”
“sometimes i think my own family isn’t mine,” he confesses and this is the time where he makes that face, the face that comes before he allows his secrets to fall and his wishes to come forward. “aegon, he.. he isn’t what i’d imagine him to be. my mother is.. absent and my father is the closest thing to seeing the stranger.”
you frown, but he continues, “i believe helaena is the only one i’m truly proud of and is my beloved sister.” his confession is a sad one and drives you to gently place your hand on his in support. “i think we should be lucky to choose our family.”
he does well to look you in the eye at his last sentence. you bashfully look away and your hand leaves his – he doesn’t like the sudden coolness on his skin that follows.
“would you like me–” your sentence is cut short by the sudden surprise of aemond’s calloused finger catching your chin, turning your face to his. his thumb gently touches your bottom lip and he’s focused on the pair. with caution, he looks for any objection and when he sees none, he leans in and places a delicate, but yearning kiss on your lips. he parts and leans back, a boyish look lightening his features, “aemond.”
his name comes out like a whisper from your lips and he almost moves to his knees. you enjoy this feeling – the fleet of uncertainty and the softness of love.
the moment passes faster than how it happened and suddenly you’re both parting farther, “nephew.” you look up and it’s jacaerys approaching.
jacaerys smiles once he catches your eye, but it falters when he gaze moves to aemond, “there you are, lady (y/n). i’ve been looking for you.”
he’s been.. looking for you? it’s both a surprise to you and aemond, though, the latter grips the earth until his knuckles turn bone-white. you don’t seem to notice, but the once kind smile the velaryon prince bore had turned triumphant. it’s almost as if he wants to piss off his uncle.
“my prince– i, you have?” you look down at the forgotten book in your lap and quickly raise it to jacaerys’ line of sight, as if to defend why you and aemond were in the godswood, “i was just reading to prince aemond.”
“i’m sure it was something lovely to hear.. dear uncle, would you care to lady (y/n) joining me on a stroll throughout the red keep? i might even show her how great vermax is.” your head turns to observe aemond, who was as quiet as ever. his expression is cold and his singular eye glares daggers into the velaryon prince. you were sure that if vhagar was here, aemond would have commanded his beast to rain fire on his nephew. however, his lips purse into a fine line and his eye flicks to meet yours. he blinks, then looks at jacaerys and nods in defeat.
“i shall safekeep your book, my lady,” aemond says solemnly, giving you a wounded look. he wants to reach out to push jacaerys away, taking you in his arms and mounting vhagar with you by his side and leave king’s landing. “i will.. see you tonight?”
you smile and nod, handing the book you were supposed to read to the prince, before grasping jacaerys’ extended hand that helped you to your feet. you give one last look at aemond while jacaerys leads you away, and it’s enough to tear your heart in two.
you follow jacaerys without a word, your mind a blur. was aemond confessing himself to you? pledging himself to you? did he.. love you? it was enough turmoil that you wanted to tear your hair out.
“you weren’t reading to him, were you?” prince jacaerys asks, his head turning to glance at you as his breath mingles with the air. you’re suddenly shy and nervous – whether from the truthfulness of the kiss you and aemond had shared, or the close proximity between you and jacaerys.
“not exactly, my prince,” you confess, ducking your head and looking at anything but the prince beside you. maybe you should have lied, but so far, you and jacaerys have been nothing less than honest. that’s what you loved – the honesty that never had any deceit or ill-will. perhaps you wanted to keep it that way.
the halls of the red keep become more secluded, less skylight falling into the courtyard and more torches lighting the corridors. jacaerys leads you up steps and you follow, lifting the skirt of your dress a bit to clear your pathway.
he continues to lead, the passageway becoming more clear and open once again. you inhale deeply at the last few steps, the air exiting through your nose as you two exit the tower of stairs. the walls soon disappear and the open, clear sky becomes obvious as it replaces the targaryen heraldries and tapestries. you gasp in awe as you turn your head – from here, visenya’s hill and black water bay are in view. it’s beautiful from the garrison wall.
jacaerys’ steps slow and you walk ahead, turning at the last moment to face him. he looks troubled, hands enclosed in fists at his side.
“it’s no secret that he has some affections for you,” jacaerys says carefully, taking in your figure before creating a set in his jaw, the bone more prominent. he turns his head and stares out into the open bay, moving toward the wall to lean into it. “i don’t doubt that he’s already made it known.”
“i’m sorry, my prince, but i don’t understand what you’re getting at.” your words border on a laugh, brows furrowing as you move closer. what was jacaerys playing at? was this some elaborate plan to embarrass you?
“no sly words, nothing less than the honest truth,” he starts, moving away from the stone wall to stand in front of you. his warm hands engulf yours – it’s embrace is firm and reassuring. thumbs gently run along your hand as he tries to soothe his own nerves and coax yours. “i will tell you exactly as i feel, and i would hope you feel the same.”
your heart moves from your chest to your stomach and tears had begun to well in your eyes at his next words.
“i.. i must confess that i also harbor affections for you. these past few days, while so little, have been something that i’ve been longing for,” he begins, looking down at your conjoined hands before peeking up through his brown strands of hair. “i think of you night and day, lady (y/n), your well-being clouds my judgement, and i am at constant ends with myself.”
he thought to himself, to either make himself happy and serve the consequences of being at yet another war with his uncles, or forever live in regret. he decided to swallow the lump in his throat.
your breath shudders at his confession and you feel your stomach lurch.
“i want to ask for your hand. i want you to be my lady and be by my side when my mother ascends the iron throne and i take dragonstone.” one of his hands releases his grasp on yours, his hand rising to brush a stray strand of hair from your face and tuck it behind your ear. his smile is boyish, with teeth peeking from behind his lips. this mere expression is enough to make you sigh. “i want you to see your family and visit home whenever you’d like – we can go together on vermax and travel wherever we’d like.”
“we wouldn’t have to worry about court, or formalities. we could.. we could do anything that your heart desires,” he inhales deeply, the air squashing the dull ache in his chest, “i just.. i want you. all of you. what do you say?”
the passed days replay in your mind. jacaerys dancing with you in the courtyard – the laughter that always filled the room whenever you were with him. it felt comfortable and content to be with him. you had no worries when you were with him, no worry of the wrath of his mother if you upset him, and no worry if your absence had caused a disturbance. this was easy and this felt right.
“yes.”
when word of prince jacaerys’ proposal to you and your acceptance had caught wind and spread like dragonfire, it had done nothing but harden the feelings of aemond targaryen. some would even say that it drove the one-eyed prince mad and demand atonement, an eye for an eye, or in this case, a loved one for a loved one.
#jacaerys velaryon x reader#aemond targaryen x reader#jacaerys velaryon x reader x aemond targaryen#jacaerys velaryon imagine#jacaerys velaryon fic#aemond targaryen fic#aemond targaryen imagine#hotd x reader#hotd imagine#hotd fic#my writing
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The Last Word (Oneshot)
[ canon • Aemond x lady-in-waiting • female ]
[ warnings: angst, humiliation, hard chauvinism, suicide, characters death, a lot of pain, because I felt like it ]
[ description: Being Princess Helaena's lady-in-waiting is her dream come true. However, because of one exchange overheard by the king's second son, Prince Aemond, she may lose everything. The prince gives her conditions she cannot refuse, and she accepts them, not knowing that her life will change forever. This is an Anon Request in which the heroine is flat-chested. ]
* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *
My other works: Masterlist
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Being princess Helaena's lady-in-waiting was an honour for her. She was a maiden of great beauty and culture, gentle and warm, often immersed in her own world of musings, unable to maintain relationships with other women.
They did not want to understand her, depending on her favour for purely selfish reasons, because of which they acted in an exemplary manner around her, however, as soon as the princess disappeared from their sight, they commented loudly on her behaviour.
"Did you see that disgusting spider she showed to us lately? I believe she even gave it a name. Poor thing." Murmured one of them, a fair-haired beauty, Lord Lannister's niece. She furrowed her brow at her words, feeling discomfort, shaking her head in disbelief.
"You owe her everything you have. Your position, your wealth, your future marriage. Speak of her with respect." She said coolly, the girl approached her, unhappy with the way she had expressed her opinion, the rest of them remained silent, not wanting to get unnecessarily involved in an argument.
"Who are you to lecture me? You came here, some poor lady from the North whose father probably wallows in the muck around his grey castle every day. You don't even look like a woman, your chest is as flat as a child's, I don't know if even the support of a princess will help you find a man to desire you." She snarled, her golden dress shimmering in the sun hovering high above the Red Keep. She swallowed loudly at her insult, pressing her lips together, feeling the tears of shame burning under her eyelids, not letting them flow.
"I see you like to divert attention from your vices. Unfortunately, outward appearances are of little use when the rot has started on the inside. The fish, as they say, rots from the head." She said calmly, she heard a slap and then felt a painful burning sensation on her cheek, Lady Lannister looked at her with wide eyes, red with rage, the girls around them covered their mouths at the sight of her slapping her.
"How dare you, you… my prince −" She muttered, horrified, bowing quickly, she had to look over her shoulder to notice a tall, black silhouette behind her, the face of Prince Aemond, the king's second son, was stony and cold, he was looking down at them with some kind of disgust that sent shivers down her spine.
She swallowed loudly at the thought that he had heard their entire conversation, including what had been said about his sister.
"I will convey to the princess how devoted her ladies-in-waiting are." He said lowly, impassively, throwing her one cool look, turning tense, wanting to leave.
Lady Lannister cried pleadingly behind him that it had been a misunderstanding, and then threw herself at her, the other girls having to drag her away from her as she became completely enraged.
"You will pay for this." She hissed, but she didn't care, thinking only that it was the wrath of someone else that she feared.
She spent the afternoon in her chamber, tense and terrified at the thought that she would have to return home to her three brothers and four sisters, that she would once again be the youngest, unseen child, one of many of the same grey existence.
She shuddered as she heard a knock on her door, and a moment later a servant appeared inside, looking at her with uncertain, frightened eyes.
"Prince Aemond wants to see you, my lady."
She thought she was going there as if he was about to behead her, guessing what awaited her and that she would surely be informed that, like the rest of the ladies of the court, she was going back to where she had come from.
The door to his chamber opened before her and she stepped inside, noticing his silhouette sitting with his back to her with his legs crossed, he was reading a book without even bestowing a single glance on her, he only spoke to her when they were left alone.
"Tell me exactly what you were discussing." He commanded in a low, impassive voice, turning the page with an impatient, smooth motion.
She lowered her gaze, playing with the fingers of her hands in a nervous gesture, feeling her heart pounding like mad, sweat on her back.
"Lady Lannister mocked the princess for naming her spider. I replied that she should speak of her with more respect." She said in a trembling voice, heard him hum under his breath, still looking at the book, bored.
"What did the other ladies-in-waiting said?" He continued, and she blinked, wondering what to answer.
She didn't want to portray them in a bad light.
"They didn't say anything, because Lady Lannister likes to say ill-considered things." She muttered, trying to defend them in some way, not wanting to be vindictive, though part of her mind opted for her to take the opportunity.
"The fish rots from the head." He murmured, and she felt a squeeze in her throat, an all-consuming shame spread through her body at the thought of him hearing this exchange of words.
Gods, what a humiliation, she thought with tears in her eyes.
She did not reply.
She shuddered as he stood up and moved towards her, looking at him with big eyes, surprised, it seemed to her that he was even taller than she had always assumed, watching him from afar.
"Am I to believe that you happen to be the only person who defended my sister?" He asked with a note of mockery and impatience from which she felt a stab of pain in her heart, the fact that he thought she was saying all this out of vanity.
"That is not what I said. You are changing the meaning of my words, my prince." She replied without thinking and lowered her gaze, feeling his whole body tense up after her insolent statement, which could cost her everything.
"You think men desire women who don't know when to be silent?" He hissed, she didn't dare look at him, however, she decided that since all was lost anyway, she wouldn't leave his question unanswered.
"I think men desire what they desire. There's no great philosophy behind it." She replied, and he snorted, as if he didn't believe she still had the courage to speak.
"Do you think men are mere animals, my lady?" He asked with a sneer; she pressed her lips together, frustrated that he was still using her words in a context that did not at all follow from what she had actually said.
"I think this discussion is fruitless. If you wish to send me away, my prince, please do so, just let me bid the princess farewell and express how sorry I am for what has happened and what you have unfortunately witnessed." She said feeling that she had lost patience, tired and resigned, imagining in the back of her mind her return home.
"Just a moment ago you were the one accusing me of not understanding the meaning of your words." He said disapprovingly, and she looked at him surprised, seeing that he had turned away, walking back towards his chair, sitting down on it with a loud creak of wood.
"You stay. You will be my eyes and ears. If any of the ladies who surround my sister speak that way about her behind her back or do other things unworthy of their position, you will report it to me." He ordered coolly, and she swallowed loudly, shocked.
"Do you have anything else to convey to me?" He asked impatiently, looking over his shoulder at her, and she shook her head quickly.
"No, my prince."
"You may leave."
She nodded, wanting to leave his chamber immediately, but stopped in mid-step, feeling her heart pounding fast, wondering if she should do this.
She swallowed hard, turning back, hearing that she had not left his quarters he threw her a frustrated, sharp look.
"Prince Aegon." She started, but he only tightened his lips.
"No."
She grunted quietly and bowed to him, opening the door and stepping out into the corridor, thinking with pain and disappointment that she had at least tried.
She could not count the number of times she had witnessed Princess Helaena's husband entertaining himself with servants, even flirting with the ladies of the court, avoiding her for obvious reasons.
She looked like a child.
Lady Lannister was stripped of her position, which she accepted with satisfaction, the other girls knowing that Prince Aemond stopped her once in a while to speak to her began to fear her, thinking apparently that she had become his mistress.
"How is my sister?" He asked her one day as she was just passing through the courtyard when he was training with Ser Criston Cole, seeing her he ordered a break and approached her, resting his hands on the hilt of his sword stuck in the ground.
She sighed heavily, covering herself more tightly with the thin blue cloak she was wearing.
"She sleeps badly. Prince Aegon wakes her up at night when he comes back drunk from…. we must then lead him to his chamber, and she is restless until morning." She said tiredly, knowing that, as usual, she had been lecturing him about how his brother had a bad influence on her and was the cause of her unhappiness, and that, like always, he would do nothing about it.
She saw him lick his lips in a sign of impatience, looking to the side.
"Anything else?"
"No."
He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, his nostrils quivering, she knew her attitude and form of expression devoid of courtesy frustrated him.
He swallowed loudly and pressed his lips together as if he wanted to say something else, shifting from foot to foot, an awkward silence fell between them.
"If I were her husband, I would make sure that she could at least feel safe. My current role ties my hands." He replied after a moment, and she lowered her gaze, feeling a squeeze in her heart at the thought that he had just confided in her. She nodded with sympathy, thinking that his words spoke well of him.
"I know. You are a man of honour. I also regret that such an injustice has befallen her, my prince. She has been deprived of the good husband she deserves." She said looking at him, wanting him to know that she understood his pain, something changed in his face, in his gaze flashed something like surprise and pain.
He nodded, letting her know that he had nothing more to convey to her, and turned back towards Criston Cole.
She moved ahead, thinking that she truly respected him as a man.
However, a few months later, something happened that changed their lives forever.
Prince Aemond returned from Storm's End along with the word that he had murdered his nephew.
A great war broke out, Princess Helaena's son was murdered, her husband suffered great wounds in the battle, and their younger brother flew to Harrenhal only to find that the stronghold was empty and to give his life to the woman everyone believed to be a witch, into whom he had put his bastard child.
Long months passed before she saw him again, a servant entered her chamber late in the evening as she was already preparing for sleep, informing her that Prince Aemond had arrived at the keep and demanded her presence.
She hurriedly put on her robe, covering her nightgown, without even having time to tie up her hair, and headed for his chamber. As she stepped inside she felt a squeeze in her throat when she saw his familiar silhouette sitting as usual in a chair right next to the fire, gazing into the flames, even though they had spoken many times, he now frightened her more than ever before.
"Has her condition improved in any way?" He asked coolly, looking at her only after a moment, she saw something similar to surprise flash across his face when he saw what she looked like, a glimpse of his healthy eye sweeping over her figure.
She swallowed hard, looking down at her hands, feeling the rapid pounding of her heart.
It was getting worse.
"No." She whispered, and heard him sigh heavily, burying his face in his hand, tired and defeated.
She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, not hearing any further questions or his words that she should leave, she didn't know what she should do with herself so she stood still, looking around his chamber anxiously. An idea suddenly occurred to her and she licked her lips quickly, deciding that perhaps she should say it out loud.
"Your visit would certainly lift her spirits, my prince." She said finally, but he laughed mockingly at her words, shaking his head in disbelief, she felt an unpleasant shiver run down her spine.
"A visit from the man whose actions led to the murder of her son. Most certainly." He replied, revealing his face, spreading himself comfortably in his chair with a loud creak of old wood, placing his hands on the armrests, looking at her expectantly.
"I'm going to be a father."
She looked at him, horrified, swallowing loudly, surprised that he had said such a thing out loud. She felt her whole body quivering, that this conversation was overwhelming her, for some reason she felt a dull, piercing pain in her heart, something akin to a huge, sad disappointment.
"I am aware."
"What do you think of me, my lady?"
Silence.
"Go on. I've always appreciated your sharp tongue." He hummed, tapping his index finger against the wood on which his hand lay.
"There is nothing I can say on the matter. I'm not well-read on the subject of lovers and mistresses." She replied, and he sneered under his breath, there was something mischievous in the sound, but also a kind of relief, as if for some reason he needed to speak to someone about the matter.
She didn't know if he was aware of it, or if he was trying to confide in her subconsciously, unable to hold it in anymore.
"I'm curious what you would think of her if you met her. About my Alys." He muttered under his breath, the woman's name sounded mysterious and proud, he said it lingeringly, as if thoughtful, as if saying it he saw her face in his mind.
For some reason she felt a burning wetness under her eyelids.
My Alys.
She pressed her lips together and swallowed hard, feeling a tightness in her throat, her body trembling, trying with all her might to stop what was happening to her, not to think or feel, but a single, solitary tear ran down her cheek anyway.
Before she managed to wipe it away his gaze settled on her face and stayed on it, his lips parted in disbelief, as if he had only just realised that his words were inappropriate.
It seemed to her that he wanted to say something, to apologise, but his voice stuck in his throat as she covered her mouth and laughed desperately, tears flew, flew and flew down her face, as if something inside her had burst.
"− she is surely a wonderful woman − and now, with your permission, I would like to return to my chamber −" She muttered with a grief-stricken smile, wiping her cheeks, eyes and nose, knowing that she was now as red as the tomatoes from which she had eaten soup that evening.
She left immediately when she saw that he had nodded, and it was only behind the door of her quarters that she burst into a loud, uncontrollable sob.
She had never gotten her hopes high, she had watched and loved him from afar, in silence and humility, but his words seemed downright cruel to her, as if he knew he would hurt her with them.
She had always been faithful to him and his family, so why had he humiliated her?
The next day she avoided the places where she could meet him, spending all her free time in his sister's chamber, who lay in her bed, gazing at the sky outside the window. She sat beside her and held her hand, as she had always done for many months.
There was nothing more she could do for her.
She helped her bathe, dress, walk and lie down.
Although she tried to engage in conversation with her, the princess locked herself in her mind and did not leave it.
She did not come out of her chamber until late in the evening, heading to her rooms, exhausted, walking inside with a loud sigh, throwing the books she had been reading in the meantime onto her bed.
She shuddered and screamed, frightened, catching her heart when she heard movement behind her, saw his silhouette rise from a chair standing on the other side of her quarters.
"− gods −" She muttered, sighing heavily in relief, thinking that perhaps it was some kind of assassin again, trying to calm herself down.
He didn't even say a word when he approached her in a lazy, unhurried step, towering over her with his figure, holding his hands entwined behind his back, his face impassive and thoughtful, his lips clenched into a thin line.
"I am returning to Harrenhal. Another uprising has broken out." He began, and she felt that painful tightness in her throat again. She nodded and clenched her eyelids, wanting to show him that she understood and that he did not need to explain anything to her, he continued, however. "I trust only you. I wish you to keep me informed of what is happening in the keep."
"As you wish, my prince." She said quietly, looking blankly at his chest, angry and bitter that she felt a pleasant heat in her lower abdomen and a tickle in her fingertips from his distinctive scent, a mixture of male sweat, dust and smoke.
She didn't understand why he stood there and remained silent, why he couldn't leave her alone, why he was torturing her.
"After what happened in Storm's End, for many nights I considered taking you by force. I came close to doing it many times, close to taking you with me to Harrenhal, but I spared you." He whispered in a quiet, trembling voice and she shook her head quickly, horrified by his words and how much they hurt her, she wondered how he could be saying this to her now, what purpose it would serve.
"I am grateful to you for your mercy. It will not be forgotten." She said in a hollow, impassive voice, from which he swallowed hard and tense all over, she heard him draw in a loud, impatient breath.
"Do you resent me for this? Would you rather I made you my whore? Hm? Nothing is lost yet." He hissed, taking a step towards her, and she stepped back, looking into his face with a fury from which she saw the hesitation in his eye.
"Get out. Run to her. Enjoy the birth of a child similar to those you have despised all your life." She said coldly, saw something flash across his face and for a moment thought in disbelief that her words, her rejection had hurt him.
He swallowed hard, turned and simply walked away, as he always did, leaving only a void behind him.
The word of his defeat, that he and his uncle had fallen from the sky, that Daemon's sword had pierced his skull, reached her and sliced through her heart like a dagger.
She wept that day in her bed thinking of all the things she had never told him, of how deep inside her even though he had broken her heart, she recognised as an act of his warm affection and respect that he had not stripped her of her dignity, that in thinking of her he had given up himself and his desires, even though a part of her wanted so much for him to destroy her.
Helaena threw herself from the window a few days later, and her death, the most innocent of them all, made her lose her reason for living.
She thought of following in her footsteps, but instead, before the troops of the Blacks occupied the keep she fled, heading along the king's tract to Harrenhal and then beyond to where he was last seen.
She felt a sense of relief when she jumped off the cliff, as if she was free at last, the water she fell into was icy.
The thought of death terrified her and calmed her at the same time, she thought for a moment her body would struggle for one more breath and then it would resign itself to its fate and become silent forever.
She felt a squeeze in her throat, the last warm sensation surging through her lower abdomen as she sank down into the darkness and recognized in the distance his long, white hair.
#aemond fic#aemond fanfiction#aemond targaryen#hotd aemond#ewan mitchell#canon aemond#dark aemond targaryen#aemond x oc#dark aemond angst#aemond angst#aemond targaryen angst#prince aemond#prince aemond targaryen#aemond#aemond one eye#aemond kinslayer#aemond targaryen x oc#aemond targaryen x female#aemond x female#aemond fandom#aemond fanfic#hotd fanfiction#hotd fanfic#hotd fic
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what if.. self aware whb seraphim🤸🏻♂️🕳
masterlist
˗ˏˋ꒰ 💭 ꒱ . . . sorry for the delay with the request (😭), i couldn't find myself liking what i wrote multiple times. i hope you like it, dear anon (<3).
˗ˏˋ꒰ 💭 ꒱ . . . lowercase intended, 502 words.
the atmosphere had become different so abruptly.
the old, almost millenary, tradition of killing every one of the descendants of that damned sorcerer had given food for thought to all the inhabitants of heaven.
from one day to the next, the usual task of eradicating the lineage that shared genetics with solomon didn’t go as they all wished it did. not when the screen-emerging seraph's gaze met that human’s own eyes, in that instant something changed.
despite the growing feeling in his chest, one that screamed at him not to hurt them, gabriel knew what his job was and, without hesitating for another second, he took out his scythe and with a single swing cut down his target. later finding that another human protected them with his own body, and that one of the seven kings of hell, satan nevertheless, appeared to help them too.
“bothersome…”
eventually, he had to return to heaven, but not before branding their body as future food for the angels.
once up there, away from all the lower impurities, there was nothing and no one to help him avoid the growing pressure in his chest, which he had no choice but to credit to the non-death of that damn descendant whom he didn’t manage to devoid of life as he should have. without further ado, the seraph headed to where his other two companions, so to speak, were waiting for him to hear how his mission went.
his surprise was, nothing more and nothing less, that both michael and raphael had also started to feel that "something" like him around the same time frame he had.
nonetheless, despite all the coincidences that one could discern, no one wanted to give it importance; not when their minds were more focused on how they were still standing in nowhere else than hell.
thus, the passage of time made itself go by.
few days in which that feeling only knew how to expand and become noticeable when one of their holy gazes met theirs, when they were close to their figure when their voice was directed at them... on those occasions, and after their rare repetitions, something in the seraphim genuinely awakened.
how many decades have passed since something like that arose inside them? how was it that that feeling that only he gave them had returned? was it, if anything, that human who gave them such a feeling? impossible, simply unthinkable. a mere human being, even if they were the offspring of a sorcerer as powerful as solomon was, couldn’t do that... right?
that's when one by one, gabriel, then raphael, and lastly michael, began to realize small details around the descendant, details that revealed what all the angels, especially the three seraphim, began to suspect.
they were a vessel, a puppet that someone superior to them used to communicate with them all.
it was then and there when the real war began between heaven and hell. a war that would end once their holy hands were on that human, the beloved vessel of the higher being, of the new god.
#— thoughts.#— what in “hell” is bad?#heh... hope you all like this one#angels whb#whb angels#whb raphael#whb michael#whb gabriel#whb self aware#whb fanfic#whb x reader#whb x mc#whb x you#whb x y/n#what in hell is bad#whb#what in hell is bad x reader#michael wbh#gabriel whb#raphaeel whb#— answered.
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i told the stars about you — op.81 (royalty au)
pairing: prince!oscar piastri x lady-in-waiting!reader
word count: 1.5k
warnings: angst? heartbreak, slightly inaccurate and semi-confusing greek mythology references, a spot-the-princess-diaries quote just bc i can
I actually wrote this listening to the bridgerton soundtrack... it's not what I usually write so I hope it's okay! please lmk what you think and if you'd like to see more like this. for extra heartbreak, listen to "love is a choice" from the bridgerton soundtrack on repeat while reading
happy reading!
love mimi 🤍
It was an accident really. Well, less of an accident and more of a cruel twist of fate if you had to summarise it. After all, such a cliche thing to happen. The lady-in-waiting to the Princess falls in love with the visiting Prince her future ruler is tied to in an arranged marriage.
Had any sensible person heard the predicament you were in they may have sympathised but still scoffed at how foolishly the two of you were behaving. Desperately entangling yourselves with one another despite the inevitable heartbreak that was bound to come any day now.
“Did I ever tell you how much I love the stars?” You led on your back on the grass underneath the night’s sky, delicately raising a hand to trace invisible lines between each star above you. Oscar chuckled next to you as his hand slid over yours, joining you in your night sky tracing,
“I believe you may have mentioned it once or twice before…” You gave a faint smile as your arm grew tired, choosing to link your hand with his and rest them by your sides. “Have I ever told you why?” Oscar rolled onto his side, facing you as his eyes searched yours, smiling at the way they reflected the moonlight,
“Actually, I don’t think you have told me that.” You sat up quickly, always excited to share the story with someone.
Oscar sat up before he moved to sit behind you, pulling you to lean back into his chest as his arms encircled your body, head gently resting on your shoulder.
“See that star up there?” You pointed to almost directly above you,
“That’s the North Star isn’t it?” You nodded and turned your head to reward his correct answer with a soft kiss to the cheek.
“Mmhmm! When I was a child, my mother used to tell me stories of the stars every night…” You sighed happily at the memories, “There was one story that I loved far more than any others. The story of Perseus and Andromeda.”
“I think I learned about that a long time ago… During my classical classes…”
“Show off…” You reached one hand up to gently flick his nose. “Well, the story goes that Princess Andromeda was a very beautiful woman. Her mother, Queen Cassiopeia, claimed her daughter was more beautiful than Poseidon’s daughters. As punishment for her vanity, Poseidon sent the sea monster Cetus. Andromeda’s father, King Cepheus, trusted the sea monster to disappear if they were to sacrifice her.
Just before she was devoured by the sea monster, Perseus came by on his flying horse Pegasus. He was on his way home after one of his great adventures. Perseus fell in love with the beautiful Andromeda and struck a deal with her parents. Perseus would save their daughter by killing the sea monster and in return he would be allowed to marry her. Andromeda however, was already promised to marry another man, Phineus. A fight arose between the two which Perseus eventually won. And so Perseus and Andromeda lived happily ever after.”
Oscar smiled at the sight of your eyes lighting up as you told the story. He nuzzled his nose into your neck making you giggle as you carried on,
“All of the people in the story were placed in the sky by the gods, so their story would never be lost. Perseus and Andromeda are still positioned close together in the sky, where they rotate around the North Star, see?” Oscar’s eyes followed to where you were pointing once more. He kissed your cheek as you gave a happy contented little hum.“Mother always used to say that lovers who needed advice or guidance would talk to the stars… And that those confessions of lovers to the stars meant that their love would last forever, just like Perseus and Andromeda…” You reached for the bouquet of daisies you’d picked earlier that evening.
“You know..." Slowly, you plucked each petal off of the daisies you carefully held. "I told the stars about you." Oscar chuckled, not expecting to hear such words from the lady sitting with him.
"What did you tell them?" You turned to look at him and smiled, staring at his brown eyes.
"I told them you have your own constellations on your cheeks." Your stare landed on the faint few freckles dotted on his face. He laughed,
"What? What does that even mean?"
You showed him a half smile before looking down at the daisies and plucking the petals again.
"I told the stars you have more stars in your eyes than there are stars in the sky"
His smile slowly faded, instead he looked almost like he was holding his breath, like he didn’t dare breath incase it ruined the moment, "I told them that you are the moon that shines brightest in my eyes when I'm surrounded by darkness. I told them I always wish for you on a shooting star." You gave him the daisies you had been holding since you’d sat next to him. All petals now plucked. Oscar looked confused as he took the flowers, about to open his mouth.
"Do you want to know why?” You cut him off with a sweet smile before he could even open his mouth to answer, “Because I got tired of asking the flowers if you love me or not."
“Y/N…” Oscar’s voice was barely above a whisper. You spoke softly,
"Do you know what the stars replied?"
"W-what?" He thought he’d lost his voice for a moment.
You smiled.
"Go after him."
Silence. “So will you…”
“I'm in love with the King-to-be, and I'm inquiring if he loves me too…” Oscar’s eyes lit up and in that moment, you felt as if all the air had been taken from you. One of your hands gently cupped his face as your thumb rubbed over his cheekbone, “You really do have stars in your eyes.”
“And your eyes hold the whole galaxy, my love.” Oscar pulled you close to him and sighed in contentment as you shyly buried your face into his shoulder, the stars twinkling at you both from above, as if centuries of lovers were sprinkling their blessing on the two of you. In hindsight you supposed it might have been a warning, that heartbreak would ensue no matter how much you loved him
⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆
“I told the stars about you!” Oscar cried out.
You stopped. “I told the stars about you,” he repeated, trying and failing to hold back tears that were already falling, “I told them that I would never let you become one and end up so far away from me, I told them how you said you would always stay by my side, and...” Oscar looked back at you, where you were now facing him.
“I told them I loved you.” Your eyes widened slightly before your face fell again.
“...We always knew this was going to happen. We cannot change what our fate is, Oscar, I mean…” You looked back down at the ground, clenching your fists tightly before you spoke again. “Your Highness-”
“Don’t call me that, Y/N.” Oscar said immediately, rushing up to you. “Y-you’re not a lady-in-waiting. I'm not a Prince. We’re just Oscar and Y/N, two people who fell in love the instant they saw one another.” He stared at you, not fighting the tears anymore. “Two people who fell in love under the stars… I want that Y/N back.” Your heart broke as his voice cracked, overcome with emotion. “Please my love…”
But still you said nothing
“Where’s the Y/N who would tell me she loved me, the Y/N who vowed to be by my side forever, and… the Y/N who would tell the stars about me?” You finally looked up at him, and Oscar searched your eyes desperately for a shred of his Y/N in you. A lone tear spilt over and fell down your cheek. Sparkling in the moonlight, it almost looked like a shooting star. ‘How ironic.’ He thought to himself bitterly. You wiped the tear away and as quickly as it had appeared it was gone.
Oscar’s eyes darkened, and he wiped his face, his expression hardening,
“My apologies, Lady Y/N.” He said, his voice cold. “This has been rather inappropriate. I believe you must have somewhere to be?”
“My apologies, your Highness. Permission to leave?” It was time to accept that the old Y/N was gone, leaving a stranger in front of him. And if his Y/N was gone, there was no reason to keep taking up a stranger’s time.
“...Granted.” You began to move before you hesitated, leaned into his side, whispered something, and left. Oscar’s eyes widened once again, and a tear fell down his cheek.
“I never stopped telling the stars about you.”
Oscar quickly turned around to watch you leave. A pained smile slowly spread across his face. He didn’t try to stop you. You wore a similar smile as you forced your feet to walk away. You wanted nothing more than to kiss him once again, but that was a dream you couldn’t have anymore. It was a dream you’d have to tell the stars about.
#mimi.writes#f1 x reader#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri angst#f1 x you#oscar piastri x you#f1 angst#f1 fic#oscar piastri fic#oscar piastri oneshot#f1 oneshot
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Summary: A young, naïve princess and a scrappy kid off the streets find themselves at odds, only to form a close connection that could cost the princess's future.
Word Count: 27.5K(...I am so sorry)
Warnings: Slowburn, Enemies to Lovers, Angst, Pining(and a lot of it), Violence, Fighting, Illness(Not Pregnancy), Graphic Description of Death, Blood and Gore, Harsh Language/Swearing, Royalty AU, Happy Ending
A/N: Guys. I have finally finished this fic after it sitting in my drafts for OVER A YEAR! I hope the wait was worth it, please enjoy. Also this isn't beta-ed so if there are any mistakes I apologize😭 -Birch<3
Some Inspirations(full credit to the artists!!!):
Knight Levi (1)
Knight Levi (2)
Knight Levi (3)
It was close to the break of a cool, brisk dawn, and an 18-year-old boy with raven hair was being escorted by the king’s guard. The men of the guard hurriedly ushered him toward the castle gates, hoping to keep the situation quiet.
The boy had just been scooped up from the streets of the small town outside the castle where he had fought against a robbery in the town’s bank. Two large men had been knocked unconscious and tied up outside the front door while he returned the coins to the banker, who was crying uncontrollably, thanking him.
The boy’s name?
Levi Ackerman. He was skimpy, short, and looked like the butt of a joke. Yet from the tallest hill to the deepest valley across the kingdom, he was known as one of the best crime fighters in the nation.
Levi was known for his cunning, stoic nature, as well as his ability to fight with an unnatural quickness on his feet. Never once had he had a run-in with the law, he would send for the guard as soon as he started fighting the criminals. The poor guards men and women would show up to take the criminals away, only getting a quick glance at the small boy saving their town.
That’s why when the royal guard came to find him after the banking skirmish, Levi didn’t resist. He knew he wasn’t in trouble.
As they rode back toward the castle and away from the small village, Levi listened to the guard’s oblivious chatter. They wanted to recruit him to be a part of the royal guard… at the king's request? The thought surprised him, but he didn’t let that show. He knew that if he agreed to be a part of the king’s military force, he would be well taken care of and still be able to serve justice to those who needed it.
The sound of steel horseshoes clicking against the grey and black tiled rocks in the road was barely audible in comparison to the bustle of the town just outside of the castle. Levi was mounted on the back of one of the king's horses, his silver eyes narrow and cautious as he watched everyone hustle around the entourage.
Before he knew it, he was walking away from the life he was accustomed to, and as soon as he made it through the palace gates, his life changed forever. You could say it was almost difficult to keep up, but Levi knew how to quickly adapt.
He's shown the barracks and his sleeping quarters, where he was lucky enough to get a small cot in the corner away from many of the other soldiers. He caught sight of some of the soldiers and their trainees, donning stripes on their armor to show off their rank.
Levi doesn’t quite know what to make of everyone, they are all so happy, so clueless to the outside world, it almost disgusts him. But, he keeps his mouth shut and listens as he gets his tour and settles into his new life.
Bright and early the next morning, he goes to train in the sparring lot with his group of roommates. Several of them had tried to talk to him and learn about his past, but he wasn’t interested in making friends.
He watched several pairs spar without weapons before it was his turn to go. The thing about Levi that surprised all of his opponents was his strength. Despite his smaller size, he could easily surpass and beat his fellow trainees in combat. Between his different styles of movement and his speed, he was untouchable.
Levi spent the first while at the castle doing what seemed like pointless activities to him. He knew how to unsheath a sword. He knew how to ride a horse. All of the basics were skills he inherently knew from his life on the streets fighting crime.
That's why no one was surprised when he advanced to the group of other guard trainees, who had been at the castle, learning the trade for over a year. It was strange at first, with everyone unsure of the quiet, small boy, but they eventually came to make small chat and he began to fit in.
Time seemed to slide by as fall weather started to set in. Leaves changed from dark, rich greens to playful yellows and tasteful oranges. It’s on one of these fall days, that Levi meets you for the first time.
You were elegant, graceful, and naive at only 17, out for a walk in one of your many private courtyards. You were out strolling by yourself, as you often did. There were guards littered throughout the palace, so you weren’t too concerned about danger.
You loft around one of your favorite courtyards, the Josephina Garden Hall, blinking through the falling leaves and sighing in happiness at the breeze that floats through, carrying the last of summer’s warmth. In your lackadaisical wandering, you catch sight of a dark-haired boy around the corner.
You stay quiet and you blink in surprise when you realize he is training in your private yard. He's young, you think to yourself as you shift to stand next to some browning thistle bushes. Butterflies erupt in your belly as you take in his shirtless and lean muscular back that is facing you.
Even with his boyish age, Levi is covered in thick, strong muscle, but due to his intense practice routine, he's covered in dirt and some bruises. You could even see the pale gleam of faded scars on his chest and back, and that's when you decided you needed to know who this recruit was.
What kind of guard trainee is this? He looks young, but he seems so experienced, he couldn't have come from one of the lords, you think to yourself as you shakily emerge from your hiding spot.
You roll your shoulders back and down, lifting your chin as you walk as poised as you can. An image of grace, or so you thought. You were youthful and inexperienced, having only just gotten out of a lecture about politics and debate. Your days were spent going to classes, electives, and other menial lessons.
This was your time of day to relax, but the air suddenly changed from inquisitive to tense. Just as you started to approach the dark-haired boy, who was swinging his swords in a practiced sequence, he caught sight of you.
He flips his sword over in his hand, and pivoting on one foot, his blade just grazes your chin to lift it and look deep into your wide (colored) eyes. The slight sting of the blade causes you to jump back, your hands racing to your face to see if he drew blood.
Your heart is pounding in your chest as you pull them back to see just a small droplet on the tip of your fingers, and your breathing is labored as you glare at the raven-haired boy.
Levi holds your stare as well as the stance with his blades and mutters, "Who are you and why are you watching me train?” It's silent for a moment as you process his words, the fading stinging on your chin slowing your brain down. Your mouth parts open, both in offense and shock.
He didn't know who you were.
You swallow thickly as you blink slowly once, trying to regain your composition as you reply, "It doesn't matter. You are training in a private courtyard meant for this kingdom's elite and personal guards."
His silver gaze bores into you for another minute before they roll in annoyance, his swords dropping away from you with an irritated sigh. He takes a small step backward, regaining your gaze without saying a word.
You watch him carefully, slightly nervous before dropping into a shallow curtsy. You look down and murmur, "Excuse me then." Levi takes a step to the side as you walk past him, skirts fluttering as you look straight ahead without a second thought.
Once you're out of earshot, Levi watches you leave and wander into the next garden, disappearing around the corner. Who the hell was that? He thinks to himself but brushes it off and continues with his training.
---
Later that same evening, the other recruits were laughing and chuckling after a hard day of training. Levi walked along behind them, listening to their conversations but never truly taking part in them.
Everyone was headed back to the barracks, slowly wandering through the outskirts of the castle while trying to not be too loud. He kept one hand on the hilt of his blade, his gaze trailing away from the crowd of trainees in a practiced and calculated manner.
Colt, Porco, and Zeke were leading the group, some of the advanced trainees Levi had come to know. They were cracking jokes and talking about what was for dinner, but Levi didn't care for their conversation. He found more interest in listening to Reiner and Bertholdt who were in front of him.
The two young boys were discussing the upcoming rotations for the guard trainees. Each rotation group was stationed somewhere different around the castle and courtyards, and they rotated every couple of weeks so the guards could defend anywhere they were needed.
Reiner was more worried about who he was going to be stationed to watch, which made Levi roll his eyes, his silver gaze locking onto motion around the upcoming corner.
A split second later, he sees your figure surrounded by a flock of maids on your every side. Then, just a few paces behind them were your two female guards, Pieck and Annie.
His eyes narrow as the pieces click together in his head. He's interrupted when the other male guards he was walking with recognize you. “Good evening, milady,” Colt chirps out, a wide smile on his face as the group comes to a halt.
You had been talking to one of your maids about some kind of fabric for your next dress but were interrupted by the sight of the guards in front of you. You give the men at the front a sweet smile as the group of trainees all drop to one knee in a respectful bow.
All except for one.
The dark-haired boy, you think as he locks eyes with you. You nod silently to the maids, who skirt around all of the men and head toward your quarters. You continue to smile gently as they leave, and you address the trainees with a quiet and pleasant, "At ease soldiers."
Zeke offers you a wide grin and says, “Good evening, princess! Lovely weather we've had today, perhaps we can get some musicians to play in the back courtyard for you after dinner tonight.”
While Zeke is talking, you don't break eye contact with Levi, who is still standing at the back, not kneeling like the rest. You see Reiner elbow Levi in the knee, motioning to kneel in respect, but Levi continues to stare at you.
As Zeke finishes speaking, you shift your gaze to him slowly and agree, "Wonderful idea, Zeke. Please alert some butlers and other maids to gather everyone, especially my family and the lords. Reiner, Porco, join him, please?"
Zeke humbly agrees, as do the others, and you give them a dismissive nod, saying, "Thank you, gentlemen. Make sure to get my favorite violinist!" As the three blondes rise and disappear around the corner you just came from, you are left with Colt and Bertholdt kneeling, and the dark-haired boy still standing.
Levi's eyes are calculating and firm, and you nod to Colt and Bertholdt, relieving them from their bows of respect, heading past you and to the barracks. Colt turns around when he realizes Levi isn't following him but freezes at the showdown playing out in front of him.
You square up with Levi, taking a few steps toward him before he says, “You’re a princess? Makes sense why I caught you so off guard. You were loud, obviously in my line of sight, and an easy target who can’t even protect herself.”
A gasp sounds out as Colt gapes at the harshness of Levi's words, but the dark-haired boy doesn't say anything. And neither do you. You simply stare at where Levi’s head had been moments before as the boy walks past you, brushing past the other trainees. He disappears down the hallway where Colt and Bertholdt had been heading, straight for the barracks.
Annie and Pieck are still standing behind you, and when you don't move for a second, Pieck rests her hand on your shoulder. "Princess Y/n? Are you alright?"
You don't say anything, but turn to face Annie instead, a snarl now etched onto your usually kind features. There is a fire burning in your (colored) eyes as you give her a cold look and state, "Teach me to fight."
---
The training session with Annie was just coming to an end, with your muscles sore and aching and your chest heaving to catch your long-gone breath. It was a long and brutal session, as Annie wasn't forgiving and it was warm as could be outside despite it being the middle of fall.
It didn't help that you were in your new fitted armor that Pieck helped you choose - it was heavy and there were many layers to keep you protected. There was a well-fitting breastplate that was engraved with your family’s name and emblem, cuffs for your forearms, and even protective plates for your calves, thighs, and biceps.
It was intricate and beautiful, with each piece perfectly tailored to your body. The one downside - it was heavy. With the rays of the autumnal sun beating down and carrying the extra weight you weren't used to, it was tough on your body.
Annie being a deadly threat didn't really help either, but at least her blade was only a wooden practice sword.
Her weapon came down fast and hard in a never-ending wave of attacks that were perfectly timed, accurate, and most of all, deadly.
With a fast nudge from her wooden blade, your sword easily flew to the ground, clattering against the hard-packed dirt. You were out of breath, with your hair all mussed up and grime smudged across your cheek from your hours of practice.
Silver eyes were watching from a distance in the trainee’s practice area, but you were too tired to notice anything. Instead, you were focused on Annie, who was holding her own sword up to your throat, much like Levi did two weeks ago.
"You've got a long way to go," is the only thing she says. You sigh deeply as she takes a step back and drops her sword, turning to walk away.
"I'm going to clean up, Pieck is here to watch you," Annie calls over her shoulder as she sheaths her practice blade back into her belt, and you give her a feint wave as you locate Pieck near the edge of the training field.
You watch as Annie’s blonde head disappears behind some shrubbery before slumping unceremoniously to the ground, a groan falling from your lips.
A few pants escape you as you close your eyes, a wave of exhaustion flooding over you. You try to calm the erratic beating of your heart and slow your breathing down as a light breeze begins to blow through. Leaves stir up on the ground, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.
While your eyes are closed, everything somehow seems to get darker, and the breeze seems to stop just a moment later. Your (colored) eyes flutter open and up, leaving you face-to-face with the dark-haired boy.
You groan again and move to get up as Levi glimpses down at you and he states blankly, "You need practice." You shuffle to your feet shakily, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath before opening them and answering him with, “Yes. I know. Thank you, soldier.”
“It’s Levi,” he cuts you off firmly, "Levi Ackerman.”
You squint at him silently, leaning down to pick up your fallen sword without a word. A small puff of air leaves your mouth as your hand wraps around the hilt of the blade and you mutter, “Well, Levi Ackerman, I’m practicing, and you should be too.”
The dark-haired boy simply scoffs and says “I'm already better than you in all aspects of combat, you need the practice more than anything. I’m not even sure why you’re out here, shouldn’t you be learning how to sew or something?”
Your hand falters on the grip of your sword for a second before your gaze hardens and you snap, “As you said, I need to learn to protect myself, and I'm working toward that goal.”
You don't hesitate a moment after that, choosing to turn away from him and follow Annie to wherever she had disappeared. Levi is left standing behind you as you storm away, quiet as he takes in your retreating appearance.
Pieck had caught sight of your small spat with Levi, and as she followed you out of the practice field, she shot an icy glance toward the dark-haired recruit.
---
Your days were endlessly busy, and you were the most exhausted you had ever been in your entire life, with meetings with potential princes, lords, and suitors, going to your lessons to learn about foreign policy, hosting balls, developing legislature, and more.
On top of that, you were still determined to train with Annie and Pieck when you had a moment free. Annie focused on teaching you sword techniques and improving your reaction time, while Pieck focused on sequences and how to use them while in a fight.
You were slowly improving with every day you practiced. You were becoming leaner, and building more muscle. You were less quick to tire, you didn’t lose your breath as much, and you were getting to the point where you could occasionally match Annie’s blows.
Your mother and father weren’t so sure about you learning to fight, but your elder brothers had all learned, so they accepted that it was something you wanted to do. Your mother thought it was “unladylike”, but your father thought it was a good idea that you knew the basics of protecting yourself if you needed to.
"Slow!” Annie's yell comes at you as she spins and slashes her sword toward your ribcage, her aim constantly perfect. You manage to dodge her attack before you parry your blade against hers, using your body weight to push her back a step.
The two of you were sparring in one of the private courtyards this particular day, while Pieck stood guard not too far off.
The two of you circled each other before Pieck called out, “I think that's enough for today, you two, Annie, it's time for us to go on patrol. Colt and Porco will be on guard while we are gone.”
You were in an intense staring battle with Annie, who breaks her gaze away from yours to nod at Pieck. You groan and whine out, “But Pieck, I'm not tired yet, I can still practice for another hour!”
Quiet footsteps behind you make your head turn, and you suddenly see a blade coming down toward your face. A flash of fear runs through you, and you instantaneously react, bringing your sword up to catch the opposing blade.
You just barely catch it in time, and you realize your heart is pounding in your chest as the initial rush of adrenaline burns off. Shock is evident on your face as your lips part in a gasp and your eyes widen, but you soon frown when you are met with that new yet familiar silver gaze.
"Then let's fight for another hour," the low voice comes.
Annie and Pieck had both drawn their swords, just to find the dark-haired boy named Levi was the assailant. Dressed in his practice armor, the silver metal covering his body reflected the same color as his eyes.
One of his swords was drawn, the blade pushing down on your own, leaning toward your face. You could see the concentration in his brow, but you weren’t about to give up and lose. Stalemate it is then, you think to yourself as you brace against Levi.
At that moment, Colt and Porco walk into the yard, suited up in their new armor, their eyes wide when they catch sight of you and Levi. Pieck sighs and walks over to them, briefly giving them the rundown of events before she and Annie leave for their patrol.
Colt and Porco, each respectively, take a position on either side of the yard, giving you and Levi plenty of room to fight. When your eyes meet Levi’s again, you find him with what could be considered a smirk resting on his lips.
"Let's fight, princess.”
At that, he pushes his blade off of you in a sudden burst of energy, spinning away quickly to avoid any counterattack from you. This gives you time to draw your sword in an effective manner to combat his every blow.
Levi draws his second sword, now dual-wielding in the style that no one seemed to be able to replicate. You grit your teeth and go after him swinging, allowing the metal of your blade to clash against his, your footsteps shuffling in the fine gravel and dirt. Your hair was falling out of the already messy ponytail it had been in, the (colored) locks falling into your eyes.
You felt unkempt, wild, and stronger than you ever had before. And this time when you were fighting, you had the physical strength to show it.
While you were on the muscle and ready to attack at every movement, Levi was at ease, effortlessly matching your blows; twisting and flipping just out of range of your blade.
Eventually, Levi starts to get the upper hand, and without you realizing it, he gets you backed up and pinned to the wall. In an instant, one of his blades flicks yours to the ground before being pointed at your throat, while his other one comes up to point at your belly.
He's panting now though, with sweat running down his forehead and neck, disappearing behind the silver chainmail covering his chest. The sun just barely catches his left eye as he gazes at you, and it glows like a hot ore on a fire.
It's silent between you two, your blade is on the ground so there is no way to defend yourself, and your hands are by your sides. At that moment, you are out of breath, beaten, with nothing to say for yourself.
Levi pauses for a moment before dropping his swords and resheaths them, one on his back and the other at his hip. He takes a deep breath through his nose and gives you a small, shallow bow and a quiet mumble of, “Better.”
He takes a few swift steps back and jogs out of the yard, giving Colt a simple nod before disappearing toward the barracks. You're left standing there, dazed, as you watch his armor glitter and dance in the disappearing rays of sunlight.
You hardly notice it, but a faint flush has covered your face, and as you touch your cheek, you realize it's warm.
---
The sun had sunk below the horizon and the coolness of the full autumn nights was bone-chilling. While you had gotten cleaned after some flower arranging and training exercises that afternoon, there was a part of you that wanted to get messy.
So, you decided to go to the forges and clean your practice gear. The plates had been coated with mud and grass from the numerous times you hit the ground while sparring Annie, and there was no doubt dust caked onto the cloth from the dirt Levi kicked up when he surprised you.
It was late in the evening, several hours after dinner, and one of the times of the day that you were allowed to be alone for just a few minutes. Not wanting to make a scene, you chose to go to one of the smaller forge rooms, one that you knew not many people used.
You took a few moments, setting up a few candles on the workbench and lighting them, stoking the fire in the hearth to warm up the small workshop. There were several tables set up in the room, embroidered cloths carrying the royal insignia, others holding stacks of bent swords and dented plates of armor.
On your workbench, someone had left out a few delicate trinkets and other lightweight tools, and you find yourself smiling at the meaning behind them. A small forged flower? Perhaps for a lover back home, you wonder to yourself as you gently move it to the far side of the table.
You can’t help but sigh in happiness at the quiet sounds of the workshop; the crackle of the small fire burning in the hearth of the forge, the distant sounds of drunk men happy with their work for the day, and even the call of a spotted owl hooting in the distance.
The ability to be alone for a few minutes was much appreciated after the clashing of swords all afternoon, and you quietly start to work on polishing your armor as a warm, orange glow begins to fill the room. The faint smell of wood smoke fills the air, accompanied by the dark and rich aroma of the oil used to clean your armor and blade.
Time seems to tick by slowly, and you don’t even realize there is moonlight shining through the window until the sound of footsteps approaching catches your attention. Your (colored) orbs are snatched away from the rhythmic movement of polishing your thigh plate at the noise and you cease motion as you look to see who it is.
As you turn to face the entrance to the forge, you are met with the shadowed face of Levi, who when he notices you, his eyes widen ever-so-slightly and he bows in recognition and murmurs, “Princess”.
You can feel your eyes narrow in immediate suspicion at the sudden respect he is showing you. He quietly walks past you, moving to sit at the table closest to the forge, the two of you facing each other, yet tables apart.
You notice he is carrying his own gear, and you soften the intensity of your expression and answer him with a short, "Good evening, Levi,” before returning to your thigh plate with the small rag.
It’s quiet for another moment, but the simple silence that had once surrounded you has grown thick and uneasy. You could feel yourself shifting on the bench you were sitting on, realizing you were in a much more casual outfit than you typically wore. It wasn't nearly as extravagant as your day-to-day dresses, but you still felt comfortable enough to be seen by your guards and maids.
So with it being Levi sitting in the same forge as you, it made you uneasy. You watch him pull a stool out from the corner of your eye, the wooden legs scratching against the ashen ground near the forge’s mouth. What had been a harmonious sound from the forge becomes the sharp hiss of logs burning and the soft zings of metal being wiped clean and sharpened.
You feel the need to say something, anything, and so you mumble carefully, "You fought well today.” You dunk your rag in more oil, (colored) eyes cast down toward your hands. You can feel Levi’s heated gaze snap onto your frame, and the intensity of them is like daggers digging into your sides.
"I fight well every day,” he almost snarls. You feel your heart practically jump to your throat at the harshness of his tone, and you keep your eyes on cleaning a piece of mud off of a shoulder pauldron. Suddenly you feel foolish for saying something, and it's quiet for another moment before he pipes back up.
“But thank you," he murmurs, softer this time, "You are getting better, some of your combinations are pretty good.”
His words are simple, and straight to the point. They show no signs of being impressed or disappointed, it was like he was simply stating your fighting abilities like they were facts. Your cleaning motions completely stop as you process his words, and you can’t stop yourself from looking up to view his lithe figure.
Levi is working on cleaning his dual blades when your gaze lands on him, and he doesn't look up when your eyes find him. He doesn’t even seem bothered that he gave you what could be taken as a compliment, especially with how he has acted toward you.
But this is the first time you truly get to lay eyes on the scrappy boy, taking in his limber build. He's not large. Everything about him seems to be small, regardless of the obvious muscling on his frame.
You know he's strong despite his size, and he is lethally fast, which proves to be a deadly combination. The boy sitting across the room from you has something about him that sets him apart, and you just can’t put your finger on what it is.
As you go back to cleaning your armor, you try to piece together a possible backstory for him. You know he didn’t live in the town connected to the castle, no one here knew him. He was around your age, and he knew how to fight, but he wasn’t from a royal or respected family.
You look up from your gear, setting everything off to the side and you state out of nowhere, “Levi, I want you to train me.”
It's quiet again, and you can feel your heart pounding in your chest as you wait anxiously. You then hear his blades hit the wooden table in a sudden clatter, drawing your gaze to the intricately designed swords.
No one else had swords like him. Custom designed, but embellished with the royal insignia, they were specifically made for his fighting style. You had wondered about them, and why your parents would allow for a random boy to have custom swords if he were just to be joining the guard.
You pause for a moment, thinking about how you made a major mistake asking this of him, and you look up to meet his gaze. And now, he's looking at you.
The expression on his face is one you don't know how to digest. He always seemed to look mad, bored, or sad when you watched him from a distance, but now you had no idea how to get a read on him. If you were to say what he looked like, you thought that he looked excited.
Levi stands up from his stool, the wood once again scraping against the ash-covered floor. His boots crunched on the thin layer of ash, but he didn’t seem to mind as he secured his blades on the table.
He moves with a grace you never noticed and he walks around the edge of your table to lean his hands on it directly across from you.
“No,” he says, his gaze still unreadable. You blink up at him, your fingers nervously weaving together in and out before you plead, “Teach me, there is no way I can get better if I don’t learn.”
You can feel his disbelief when he tuts and pushes off the table to stand up straight, looking down at you. His arms move to cross his chest and he responds again, “No, I’m not going to teach you.”
A wave of frustration washes over you and you stand up and frown before spitting out, “You have to!” Levi rolls his eyes and sighs, “I don’t have to do anything.”
You walk around the edge of the table to get closer to him and you point your finger at his chest and bark out, “You have to listen to me, I am your superior!” Levi smacks your finger away with his hand and is quiet for a moment.
His gaze shifts, and suddenly you can read his expression again. A challenge. His eyes become steely in the light of the forge, and you can see them flicker between your eyes, down your frame to your boots, and back up again.
You suddenly feel too warm standing there, and you uncomfortably shift side to side as you feel him silently judge you. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Here I am in clothes not suitable outside of my quarters, this guy is judging me after beating me today, and I’m begging him to train me. Get it together! The words flood into your mind as you stand there, and you cross your arms over your chest to try to cover up in insecurity.
“What’s in it for me?” he asks coolly, his gaze boring into yours as he awaits a response. You blink in disbelief and stutter, “Uh, uhm, I don’t know. What do you want?”
Levi rolls his eyes and walks back over to his gear, sliding the swords back into their sheaths. He folds up his armor and puts it back into a leather bag that he brought it in. He seemed dismissive and you were racking your brain before an idea caught in your brain.
“Land!” you call out loudly, before covering your mouth. Levi freezes and turns to look at you with one of his brows lifted in question. You take a quick breath and continue, “Land, for your family, here around the castle. That way you can see them whenever you want.”
Levi continues to put his stuff away and replies blankly, “My family is dead. I am alone.” A pit builds in your stomach and you usher out, “I’m sorry, I had no idea.” Levi glances at you and shrugs, “I’ve worked alone since I was a child.”
You are quiet again and let him walk past you toward the mouth of the forge. Just as he’s about to leave you mutter, “Please, Levi. I want to learn.”
He pauses behind you at the door, your backs facing each other. It’s quiet, with just the sound of the fire splitting open another log. You can hear the fluttering of the owl’s wings outside the window, and you turn to face the door, afraid he left.
Instead, you are met with Levi’s gaze watching your dejected figure. You can see he is calculating in his head, thinking, planning, and ready to say something that will destroy your hopes.
“You have no idea what you’re signing up for, princess,” is what falls from his mouth. It’s quiet, so quiet you almost miss it. A flicker of hope blooms in your belly and excitement takes over as you realize the implications of his words.
You take a step toward him, your hands clenching by your sides as you whisper, “Try me.”
Something flashes across his face, another unreadable emotion. He stares into your eyes and replies, “9 o’clock tomorrow night outside the Josephina Garden Hall. Don’t be late.”
Not a moment later, and he’s gone.
---
It’s just starting to get late, with the moon climbing higher and higher into the sky. You are nervously making your way to the Josephina Garden Hall on the south side of the castle, opposite the barracks.
You could hardly focus in your classes all day after the interaction with Levi in the forge room the night before. He was going to train you!
The training at night part made you a little nervous though, as you had really only practiced during the day and under heavy supervision. It was a windy night too, so you wore an extra layer underneath your practice gear so that you would stay warm.
A chill runs up your spine as you hurriedly make it inside the grandeur gates of the Josephina Garden Hall, and you take a deep breath as you start scoping the area for Levi.
You had informed Pieck and Annie of your new training program with Levi, and both of them were hesitant but supportive. They were both standing at the opposite sides of the gates when you entered, and you quickly waved at them in recognition.
Just as they start to wave back at you, there is a sharp and quick blow to your back that knocks you to the ground. Air rushes out of your lungs and your forehead knocks into the grey, rocky tile with a loud crack!
Ow, ow, ow! The pain sets in quickly, and you can tell you’ve cut your forehead, you’ve likely got gravel or dirt in your palms, and there is going to be a bruise in the middle of your back in the morning.
“Lesson 1 - always keep your defenses up,” the low voice comes from above you. You are trying to decipher the words when panic begins to set in. You couldn’t catch your breath.
You don’t think you’ve ever experienced so much breathlessness, and you roll over onto your back, gasping for air. In doing so, the voice, which belonged to Levi, rings out again, “Lesson 2 - don’t give yourself an opening for the enemy to disarm you.”
In a quick motion, his boot flicks your practice sword right out of its sheath on your hip. The wooden blade flips perfectly into his hand, and in an instant, the blade is pointing at your throat.
Blinking rapidly while trying to regain your breath, you take in Levi’s appearance. He was wearing a dark cloak, and his face was shadowed in the light of the moon. He looked… eerie. And for the first time since you had met Levi, you felt scared of him.
“As I said, princess, you’ve got no idea what you’re in for”, he spits out, dropping your sword next to your head. You shuffle into a sitting position, chest still heaving. Your mind was an absolute whirlwind due to the lack of oxygen and the speed and accuracy with which he evaluated your fighting knowledge.
You frown and grab your wooden practice blade, putting it back into your sheath before scrambling to your feet to face him. You pant for a moment and then say, “Then teach me how to be better.”
Levi turns to face you, the moonlight casting him in a silver glow. He cocks his head to the side slightly before he replies, “Your reaction time is slow, you move loudly, and you are uncoordinated.”
You stand still for a moment, taking in his words. You shrug and ask, “So how do I fix all that?” Levi squares up with you and says, “Well with someone of your skill level, you can’t work on it all at once. You need to learn the pieces individually and then start putting them together.”
He motions to a tree where you can just make out the figure of a spotted owl, the one you had seen the night before! Levi starts, “An owl doesn’t start out as a silent flier. It first must learn how to flap its wings to get in the air before it worries about how quiet it is.”
You nod in understanding as the owl turns its head, flaps its wings a few times, and then glides off into the woods outside of the courtyard. A small shift on your heel and you face Levi again and call out, “Let’s go again!”
---
That first training session was the start of a brutal and grueling process to get you in fighting shape. Levi was a good teacher, surprisingly, but he was relentless. For every time you messed up, you had to get it right three times in a row.
The weeks started to slide by, and you were getting stronger, faster, and more deadly. Winter has arrived in its full glory - frigid winds, iced-over paths, and inches of snow every morning. The pines in the forest had started to get weighed down by all the icicles hanging on, and the horses were blanketed every night to keep them warm.
It was hard, practicing in the cold. The dry, cold air made it hard to breathe when you were working to the point of exhaustion, and when the sun shone down just right, you were positive you were going to go blind.
That didn’t deter Levi, though. You had managed to get better with a blade, but Levi insisted you needed to learn how to fight hand-to-hand since you “were so good at losing your sword”.
So that led you to your current predicament - being across from Levi trying to dodge his punches. They were fast, one after the next, after the next. Perfectly timed with an accuracy you didn’t know someone could obtain.
You jump out of the way as fast as you can, but a blow to the rib catches you off-guard and has you keeled over, your breath puffing in the frigid air. The pain is sharp, but you’ve started to learn how to manage it better, so you stand back up and form your fists into balls.
You attempt to throw a weak punch toward Levi’s abdomen, but he catches your hand with ease. He’s strong enough that he pulls your hand up to eye level, looking at the form of your fist.
“Okay, first off, this isn’t how you should make a fist when throwing a punch,” Levi says to you, pointing to the way you had your right thumb in the middle of your fist. He pulls your hand apart and makes it flat before reforming it into a fist, wrapping your thumb around the outside of your middle and pointer fingers.
You feel a wave of heat wash over your face as you realize he’s close to you, touching your hand. You try to pay attention to what he’s telling you, but it’s like you are just now realizing the ashen color of his eyes is flecked with the faintest hint of light blue.
“If you had actually hit me with the fist you had, you would have broken your thumb in an instant,” he explains, dropping your hand and showing you the fist you had made but with his hand instead. You don’t expect to almost miss the warmth of his touch when he moves away, but you shake the thought away as soon as it comes.
You step off to the side, letting out a small breath that billows around your head before throwing a punch in the air with your fist in the correct position. You turn to gauge Levi’s opinion of your punch, and you see what resembles a small, half-smile on his face.
Levi sighs and shakes his head, “Not quite. You’re twisting your arm as you deliver the punch. You want your arm and shoulder to follow directly behind wherever your fist is landing. If you are moving to break someone’s nose, you want it all to be in a straight line.”
He demonstrates a quick punch in front of you, and you can see the line he’s talking about from his fist, through his arm to his shoulder. You take a deep breath, trying to focus as you once again square up with Levi. You hone in on his nose, and in a flash, your fist flies out in front of you.
It surprises both of you when your fist makes contact with his jaw, and there is a clack as Levi’s teeth clamp down together in pain. Your (colored) eyes are wide as Levi takes a step back, one of his hands coming up to cup his cheek.
Your fist is still hanging in the air from where you just punched him in the face and panic sets in as you realize you just punched him. “Oh-oh my gosh, Levi, I’m so sorry!” the words come rushing out of your mouth, and you take a step forward with your hands covering your face.
There is a slight grimace on Levi’s as he works his jaw up and down to dissipate any pain. He lets out a quiet snort and utters, “That’s more like it, even if your aim was a little off.”
Worry is etched across your features as you take in the growing red mark on Levi’s cheek. “Levi, I am so sorry, please let me take care of that,” you plead as you move around the side of him to get a better look at it in the light. Levi just brushes you off, waving his hand dismissively, “It’s alright, I’ve had much worse.”
You sigh and mumble, “I believe that but that doesn’t mean you need to suffer now. Please, Levi, let me at least get some ice for you so it doesn’t bruise as badly.”
He glances at you from the corner of his eye as he unwraps his hands, quiet and calculating. A moment passes but then he gives you a small nod, leaning down to pick up the extra wraps he brought, and motions for you to lead the way.
It’s a quiet walk back to the barracks, with only the snow crunching underfoot. You keep an eye on your surroundings, noting the guards just coming back from patrol in the forest, and the next rotation of trainees leaving to watch the castle walls.
Before you know it, the two of you are sliding into the small medicine room at the entrance to the barracks, and you grab a soft cloth and a stool. You have Levi sit on the stool while you run back outside, scooping up some of the fresher, cleaner-looking snow from outside the building.
Ducking back inside, you press the snow down into a ball inside the cloth, wrapping it until it is softly padded. You give Levi a small smile as you offer the rag to him, and he quietly grunts in thanks, bringing the cooled wrap up to his face and laying it on his cheek.
You rock back and forth on your heels a few times before asking, “So, uh, what are we going to practice next?” Levi looks up at you through his dark lashes, his eyes half-lidded in exhaustion. He’s quiet, which is something you’ve come to notice about him.
Levi never seems to have a lot to say, and only really talks when spoken to. Your thoughts are interrupted when he mutters, “You still need to work on your hand-to-hand combat skills, your aim is off.”
He shuffles the ice on his face a little bit, a soft hiss sliding through his gritted teeth. Your brows furrow and you reach out, moving to pull the ice from his face to see what his cheek looks like.
While you’re busy looking at the slight purple and pink marks blooming on his cheek, Levi is looking at you. He hasn’t spent much time with you in such close proximity, as he typically kept you at arm’s length.
But up close… you were pretty. He should expect that- you are a princess after all. But there’s a certain natural aura that he never noticed before, a sort of kindness written into your features. Maybe it was the way your (colored) orbs flickered from one dark spot on his jaw back to his eyes to see if he was okay.
Maybe it was the gentleness in your touch as you pulled his hand down from his face so you could look at it. It could have been the tenderness and honest sorrow in your voice when you apologized for hurting him.
Your hair, whilst messy from fighting, somehow suited you despite its frazzled appearance. The curve of your mouth when your lips were parted while thinking matched the ferocity you had when mad and the joy in your heart when you laughed.
Levi felt a wave of emotion run through him while you muttered to yourself how you needed to get better and train harder. It was intense, a feeling that shook him right to his core.
Was it… longing?
“When I was living on the street, alone,” he whispered, his voice so low and quiet you thought you were hearing things. You dialed in on Levi and the way his eyes were slightly glazed over as if he was in another world.
He pauses for a moment, swallows thickly, and then continues, “When I lived on the streets, there was this little girl I helped out. She was probably 7, maybe 8 years old. Didn’t have any family, no place to live. But I helped her.”
You are quiet as you listen to him, not wanting to upset him, you nod along. He glances up at you and starts again, “I would get her food, clean water, maybe even a place to sleep at night. In turn, she would find me medicine and bandages.”
Levi looks back down at the ground and his eyes flutter close as he mutters, “I was a sick kid, but she helped me when I needed her. I wonder where she ended up some days, and if she’s still as kind as she was to me.”
You shift your weight slowly, crossing your arms over your chest, and mumble back, “I can imagine she’s helping people, a good heart is a good heart. No amount of wounds and scarring will stop someone’s true nature.”
Suddenly, as if a flip switches in his mind, Levi’s eyes snap open and a hardened look covers his face. He stands up, slamming the snow-filled cloth down on the table and he practically snarls, “You would have no idea, all you’re used to is a protected life within these walls. You’ve never experienced what it’s like to live every day not knowing whether or not you’re going hungry.”
He lunges towards the door, pauses for a second, and spits over his shoulder, “Not everyone is as privileged as you, princess.” The words are as cold as ice, and you feel like your head has just been plunged into a bucket of water.
Hurt washes over you as you watch him disappear deep into the barracks, and you slam the door shut as you collapse onto the stool where he was just sitting. A sob tears itself from your throat before you can stop it, and you wonder why you’re crying.
Is it because his words are true? Is it because he was vulnerable with you? Or was it because you were starting to consider him a friend, and he only saw you as a pawn in the overall game of royal hierarchy?
---
A few days have tensely come and gone, and you and Levi haven’t spoken to each other since his outburst. You had buried yourself deep into studying, you figured that way you could stay out of his way and better yourself while doing so.
You hadn’t bothered practicing while being nose-deep in your books, and Annie and Pieck had started to notice. They had seen the dejected look on your face when you made it back to your room that night and how you shut the door without another word, locking them out.
They didn’t bother asking what was wrong when they saw Levi practicing with the other trainees and not with you. So, instead, they guided you to and from lectures, meetings, and other royal duties without hesitation.
There was one day where the sun seemed to break through the sky a little clearer and Pieck decided you needed to get some fresh air. She was waiting outside of your room, knocking gently before she called, “Princess Y/n, come out! You need some fresh air and out of those books.”
You groan at the distant call of Pieck’s voice, but deep down you knew she was right. You set a small bookmark between the pages of the current novel you were reading and begrudgingly call back, “Give me a moment to change into something more suitable for outside!”
Pieck smiles as she hears you fumble around for a few minutes before she hears your door click unlocked and you appear beside her. Dressed in clothes more appropriate for the winter weather outside, there is a disgruntled look on your face that says you aren’t happy with her interrupting you.
She rolls her eyes and says, “Come on, you know this will do you some good. Annie is already down at the stables getting our horses ready. It’s a nice day out and we thought you might like to go for a ride.”
The strained look on your face shifts to one of easeful thanks as you and Pieck make your way down to the stables. From a distance, you could see Annie’s blonde hair peeking out from underneath her cape, and beside her were three of your favorite horses.
The first was Ramon, a deep cherry bay with a small white star on his forehead. He was an absolute sweetheart and enjoyed going out on the trails. The second was your favorite mare, named Vairon, who was a small white and black spotted Leopard Appaloosa. She was a little on the fiery side, but you really enjoyed her company.
The third was an old, kind stallion named Enfés. He was a dark, seal bay that could almost look black in the middle of winter. While his name literally meant “hell”, the blaze of white hairs on his face showed his older age and the kindness in his eye.
You give each of the horses a quick rub between their eyes before you look to your two guards and ask, “Who wants who?” Annie was already holding Enfés since she tacked him up last and she replies, “I can ride Enfés since I already have him.”
You nod and look to Pieck and she shrugs with a smile saying, “Pick whoever you want!” You smile back with a giggle and mumble, “Alright, I’ll ride Vairon, I haven’t ridden her in a while.” You move to grab the mare, carefully guiding her out of the tacking area and out into the snowy, grass field just outside.
The three of you mount your horses and set off towards the woods. There were hundreds of miles of trails around the castle that you enjoyed riding through. In the summer, you could gallop your horses down the paths and out onto the open moors without hesitation.
But now, in the middle of winter, you were limited in how fast you could travel. While it was a warmer day and the snow was melting, you still had to be cautious of the slick ice underneath the snow that could make your horse slip.
You take a deep breath through your nose, the cool air burning your airways with a slight sting that is refreshing. You let the air slide back out through your lips, the warmth from your breath instantaneously freezing. It momentarily blocks your vision, and when it clears, your stomach drops at the sight in front of you.
Bandits.
There were several hooded figures, too many for you to get an accurate count in the split second you realized they were in front of you. Pieck and Annie had caught sight of them too, motioning to quickly move to the side of the path. There were only three of you, and at least a dozen invaders.
You can feel a wave of nervousness wash over you as you try to draw your sword from your sheath. You glance back and forth between the figures closing in on you and the hilt of your sword, which was caught on your cloak.
Crap, crap, crap! Is all that is racing through your mind as you struggle to get a hold of your only weapon. A cry rips through the air as Annie moves to fend off the first round of attackers. In a desperate motion, you let go of your reins to grip the hilt of your sword with both hands.
With another strong tug, your sword comes loose, and just in time for an arrow to whiz through the air near you. Another pang of fear runs through you, and in a panic, you jump off of Vairon, the mare instantly turning and bolting as the sounds of battle rapidly approach.
You try to steady yourself and in your mind, thinking through your training with both Levi and Annie. Just as you get a grip on your surroundings, a dark figure appears in the corner of your vision with a blade directed at your head. You duck on instinct, sticking your foot out in a way you had seen Levi trip someone many times.
The bandit trips over your extended leg, falling to their knees as you advance behind them, kicking them in the back with your other leg. This seems to knock the air out of them, leaving the bandit out of commission for a moment while you glance to see how Annie and Pieck are doing.
“Pieck?” you call nervously when you don’t see her black locks of hair anywhere. “Pieck?!” you yell more loudly when you don’t get a response. In your moment of distraction, you don’t notice another bandit sneaking up on you, and your attention draws back to the invader you had already knocked to the ground.
Just as you move to attempt to knock the invader out, the second bandit attacks. You’re too slow when you finally realize they are there, and shock rips through your nervous system as a searing hot pain takes over your left arm. You cry out, your voice shredding at the coarseness of your yell, and it’s loud enough to catch Annie’s attention.
“Princess Y/n!” she shouts towards you, parrying blow after blow with three attackers on her at once. You don’t get a chance to respond when you hear a voice exclaim, “A princess? She’ll be worth a lot if we can capture her!”
“It’s a shame that won’t be happening today,” a low voice barks from someplace behind you. The second invader launches at you, holding the blade that had cut you up to your throat. A gasp of pain leaves your lips and the guy who had a hold of you grabs you by the shoulder and yells, “Quiet, princess! Or I will have your head.”
He turns to face the unidentified voice you had heard, and you shuffle along to avoid any more injury. You hear the voice again, and through your pain and blurry vision, you can start making out a figure.
This time you know who the baritone belongs to as it rings out, “I can’t allow that either.” Before you can comprehend it, Levi is off his horse and lunges toward the bandit. You see a slight flick of his sword, and then you feel the pressure of the blade on your neck disappear.
With a shaky glimpse toward the ground, you can see the bandit’s severed hand still holding the sword. A scream splits the air behind you as the harsh pain sets in for the bandit, who steps away from you and tries to run. Levi is faster though, and he spins around, slashing his dual blades again.
You close your eyes as you hear the bandit’s body hit the cold, hard dirt beneath him. Another wave of agony washes over you as you feel warmth start to seep down your arm, and a choked sob breaks through your lips.
Not a moment later, you can feel a hand placed on your non-injured arm, and through tears you didn’t know had, you can make out the shape of Levi’s face. You can see concern on his features as he asks, “Are you alright?”
You are shaking, your whole body quivering as you try to contain your emotions through the pain. You try to nod your head but another cry leaves you with a fresh set of tears streaming down your face.
“H- how did you find us?” you manage to stutter out as Levi drops his hand from your shoulder. He re-draws his secondary blade and replies, “I saw your horse, and then Pieck appeared a minute later and brought our patrol.”
Another screech rings through the air and he sharply looks away from you and calls out, “Wait here, get down and hide somewhere!” Then, he’s gone, heading to where the cry came from. You could see several of the bandits were fleeing, leaving their horses and weapons as they ran for their lives.
Levi and the rest of his patrol were finishing off the few that remained, with Annie and Pieck joining them. You were about to collapse to the ground when you caught sight of something glinting through the trees. After a moment of realization, you recognize it as the royal insignia on a soldier’s breastplate.
You stumble forward as you call out to the fallen soldier, “Hey! Are you okay?” You don’t get a response as you trip through the brush, eyes blurry with tears from the pain coursing through your body.
In an instant, your body seems to come alive as you recognize the soldier. Rico Barht, one of your father’s guards. Rico was gushing blood from his thigh, where a nasty arrowhead had dug itself into the flesh. His upper body was drenched in blood from slash wounds on his chest and arms, oozing onto the soil beneath the two of you.
“Oh my gosh, Rico!” you blurt out in recognition as you lunge forward, your hands coming up to cup his face. He was just barely breathing and his hazel-colored eyes were half-lidded, unfocused.
A sob escapes you and you exclaim again, “Rico, hold on,” you look around for a second and then yell, “I need help over here!” You turn to face Rico again, slightly shaking him as you try to get him to focus on you, “Rico, Rico, hey, it’s me, (Y/n). We’re going to get you all fixed up, okay?”
A weak garble comes from his lips and that’s when you see it - a clean slice through across his throat. You immediately move to put pressure on it, but your hands keep slipping from the blood that is rushing out of his jugular.
“No. No, Rico come on, no no no no,” you rush out as you see his eyes fix and dilate. The blood continues to flow from his neck, and then you feel him take a breath. Then, all is still.
You can hear the fading cries of the bandits, and the forest rustling before it’s silent again. Sobs wrack your body, ripping your throat apart from the inside out. You let the tears fall as you clutch tightly onto the fallen soldier, praying that his soul leaves this cruel and unkind world behind.
You are so distraught you don’t hear your name being called from where Levi had left you. “Princess Y/n?” the call comes, and then again, this time with more intensity, “Y/n?! Y/n, where are you?!” You can hear the panic growing in the voice, but there is no air left in your lungs to reply as another whimper leaves your lips.
The person calling for you hears your cry, rushing down the dirt path that you had taken to find Rico. “Y/n, there you a-”, the voice starts but then abruptly stops. You turn to face the oncomer, who through your fuzzy vision determines is Levi.
He turns back towards the group and orders, “I need medical supplies over here, now!” Levi places his hand on your shoulder, trying to pull you out of the way so he can help, but you don’t budge, “He’s already gone.”
You can’t say anymore, and you bring your hands up to try to wipe the tears away from your eyes. Instead, you end up smearing Rico’s blood all over your cheeks. You don’t seem to notice, but Levi does.
His silver gaze widens as he sees the blood coating your hands and he rushes, “You’re injured, we need to get you medical equipment now.” He turns over his shoulder and shouts again, “Where the hell is that med kit?!” When his eyes meet yours, you simply shake your head.
“It’s not mine,” you whisper, sniffling, “I tried to- I tried to save Rico. But I couldn’t…” your voice trails off as a fresh wave of tears washes over you. Levi doesn’t say anything for a moment, a look of sorrow and realization covering his bloodied features.
You hadn’t ever seen someone die before.
It wasn’t something Levi thought of often. Living on the streets, defending innocent lives, death was so common he didn’t think twice about it. But you? A princess who barely could fight, holding a soldier as he died? He couldn’t imagine what it was like.
The two of you are interrupted as Pieck appears behind Levi and states, “We don’t have any more med kits, the soldiers in critical condition have already been sent back to the palace.” Her gaze flits from Levi to you, to the body of Rico behind you.
She opens her mouth to call for help, but she catches the glint in Levi’s eyes, and she understands. Pieck swallows thickly and then says, “I’ll get some of the other guards to take care of this. You two should get back in case any of the bandits are lurking around.”
Levi nods in thanks before turning toward you and murmuring, “Let’s get you back to the castle.” You don’t say anything, finally quiet after exhausting yourself of tears. Levi offers his hand to you, the digits covered in blood and grime.
You don’t think twice, placing your own hand delicately in his, gripping on tight as you feel Rico’s blood press into Levi’s palm. He pulls you to your feet, steadying you before guiding you out of the brush and to where Annie had gathered your horses.
She was in good condition compared to you, only mildly dirty, and didn’t look injured. Her blue gaze meets Levi’s silver one, and they both give each other a nod of understanding. Without any words, Levi mounts his horse while Annie helps you onto Vairon, the mare slightly antsy from all the commotion.
Annie passes your reins to Levi, who says to you, “Just hold on, alright?” You sit deeper into your saddle, grabbing onto the horn before nodding to him.
The two of you set off for the castle, a harsh silence settling over the ride home. You couldn’t help replaying Rico’s death over and over again in your mind. The feeling of the blood spurting from his neck. The look in his eyes as he died. The way his chest stopped rising and falling and laid eternally still.
You don’t even realize that you’ve made it back to the palace until you see Levi standing next to your left stirrup, offering you a hand to get down. Time and space seem altered as you make your way from the stables back to your room, trying to avoid any and all eyes on you.
You were a sight to see: face and hands covered in blood, your jacket ripped and your arm bleeding, dirt covering your clothes, and a distant look in your eye.
Levi stops you just outside of your door, his gaze trying to peer into your own troubled (colored) one. For the first time, Levi can’t tell what you’re thinking, and in a way… it almost scares him.
“Y/n- ”, he starts but is stopped when you cut him off and robotically state, “Thank you,” and then disappear into your room without another word. The door clicks shut with a small gust of wind, leaving a disheveled Levi outside with a look of surprise on his face.
He stares at the door for a moment, wondering whether or not he should go after you or send someone to help, but then he thinks better of it and heads towards the king’s chambers to inform him of the raid.
---
It was the day following the bandit attack, and you had two guards following you on your heels. Bertholdt and Colt were both on edge, you could tell. You know they weren’t quite as experienced, and that they knew you had seen something… dark, yesterday.
The two of them don’t say a word, though, and follow quietly behind you as you make your way towards one of the sitting gardens within the palace. You had gotten cleaned up, your skin washed from any traces of blood and dirt, but you couldn’t help but feel like Rico’s blood coated your body.
You felt like red was covering you, smothering the fine lace of your light blue dress. But it wasn’t. So you kept quiet and walked, trying to clear the encroaching feelings and thoughts from your mind and body.
You find yourself slowing near a white rose bush, and you gaze upon the seemingly perfect flowers for a moment before muttering, “Isn’t it funny how this flower can grow so perfectly? Can live a life so pure?”
Colt and Bertholt stop behind you, giving each other inquisitive looks but not answering you. You don’t give them a moment to speak as you continue, “These flowers can stay here, in this garden, safe from the freezing temperature of the winter outside. They don’t ever have to die because they are safe, protected here.”
You turn to face your guards, a far-off, distant look in your eye as you mumble, “They don’t ever have to experience death, only the rebirth of new life.” A tear falls quickly from your eye, sliding down your cheek and onto the ground next to your heel-clad shoe.
Without another word, you turn on your heel and continue through the garden, solemn.
Your day is slow, and you can’t battle the thoughts that seem to torture you every waking moment. The moment you are released from your duties for the day, you set your sights on a glow in the middle of the darkness. The forge.
You hadn’t spent time in the smoked and charred room since Levi had taken you on as an apprentice. Typically you were so exhausted that you would just go to your room to clean up and fix up your armor and blades.
But tonight, you couldn’t stand looking at the walls in your room, or the pages of your favorite book that you could get so easily lost in. No, tonight, you needed to get out and get away from sitting and doing nothing.
So, you find yourself in the corner of the forge near the hearth, quietly stoking the fire, lost in thought. You thought about trying to find a blade to sharpen, or some armor that needed polished, but your feet seemed glued to the dirt floor next to the growing flames.
Deep marigold mixed with tawny and carmine, forming an intricate dance as you scoped the flames, looking for something. Maybe it was so that you could catch a sight of the soft sapphire and indigo licks that seeped in and out of the rusty haze. Maybe it was so that you could leave the thoughts of the bloody bandits out of your mind. Maybe you just wanted to forget the sting on your arm as your heart shattered while Rico’s life slipped away from your fingers.
Or maybe it was to forget the relief you felt when Levi’s gaze found you in your utter panic. The peace that streamlined through your body when you could see concern etched on his features. The comfort you found when he placed his hand on your arm, asking if you were alright.
You shut your eyes as the thoughts berated you, one after the other. You could hardly stand them, all you wanted was one moment of silence from your mind. In the haze of your head, you don’t notice the lithe figure that slips into the forge room behind you.
The figure catches sight of you curled up next to the hearth, sitting on the dirt. You were wearing what he could only imagine was an expensive, imported dress, but here you were, sitting on the floor. Dust and ash lay on your lap and the edge of your hem, but it didn’t seem to bother you one bit.
Levi set his gear down as quietly as he could on the table near the door, mentally battling with himself on whether he should leave or not. Just as he takes a step back, the fire cracks, breaking your train of thought, and the angle of your gaze changes to catch him red-handed.
Levi could curse under his breath, but he stayed silent before dropping into a respectful bow and murmuring, “Princess.” Your (colored) orbs are tinted copper in the light of the forge, but they widen as they recognize who was before you.
In a moment, you try to scramble to your feet, but Levi cuts in, “No, no, please, stay where you are. I was going to clean my gear, but I can find somewhere else.” He straightens up from his bow, his gloved hand reaching for his gear before he hears your voice.
“Please stay,” your voice practically croaks out, “Please?” The pain in your voice immediately catches Levi’s attention, and he can feel his resolve crumbling when he sees the wet glimmer in your eyes. He drops his hand from his gear, instead plucking his leather gloves off and removing the rest of his bulky gear.
Levi makes his way over to you, feeling your searing gaze on his every movement. He chooses to sit on the opposite side of the hearth from you, giving him a good look at your tear-stained cheeks. The clear look of distress tugs on his heartstrings in a way that confuses him.
What was that for? He’s just here to make sure you’re okay. You’re here all alone with no one to protect you.
At least, that’s what he told himself. He clears his throat, pushing the thoughts away as he asks, “Are you alright, princess?” You roll your eyes and sniffle, uttering, “Please just call me Y/n. And-” you pause, rubbing at your nose before sighing, “I don’t know.”
You can feel Levi’s watchful gaze on you, but you choose to gaze deeper and deeper into the flames. It’s silent between the two of you, and you think that you might have said something wrong. Levi blinks slowly, thoughtfully, and then replies, “It’s okay, you know.”
This catches your attention, and you turn your cheek toward him, catching sight of the meaning of his silver gaze. He continues, “It’s okay, to feel the way you feel. It’s not an easy thing to deal with.”
You want to brush him off and defend the soft and broken part of your heart, but you realize that Levi saw straight through your uncertainty. You open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. Levi cocks his head slightly, his gaze burning into you like the heat wafting into your sides from the fire.
You swallow thickly, a dry and humorless chuckle falling from your lips as you manage, “It’s such a natural thing, yet all I can do is replay that moment over and over again, wishing there was something else I could do to save him.” “There wasn’t,” the instant reply comes.
Levi hadn’t taken his eyes off of you once, and you meet his gaze with a furrow in your brow as you fight off an incoming wave of sadness. “There wasn’t,” he repeats, softer this time, “That soldier was lucky to have you in his last moments, Y/n. At his end, he knew nothing else other than someone cared for his life.”
He finally tears his eyes away and he mutters, “And that can mean a lot to someone.” You take in Levi’s appearance at that moment. This… interesting, to say the least, soldier, sitting on the ground with a crying princess, talking about death. It was almost funny, the way it seemed like everything to you, but just another burden to carry for him.
In a bold move, you reach forward, your fingers gently resting on top of his own hand as you question, “How do you deal with death, Levi?” You shuffle your feet ever so slightly to get more comfortable, waiting for him to pull away at any moment.
Instead, he flips his hand over so that your digits rest in his palm, and looking at your hands he replies, “I remember them.” He glances up at you through his darkened lashes and when he sees the confused look on your face he elaborates, “When they were normal, healthy, alive. I remember whenever they smiled or laughed. When they weren’t sick or dying.”
You nod delicately, taking in the deep timbre of his voice and the emotion that it carries. You reply, “But what if I don’t have those memories? I only saw Rico in passing a handful of times, I barely knew his name.”
Levi squeezes your hand and states, “You carry on with your life, living for him. Enjoying each moment so that his life doesn’t go to waste.” You give the dark-haired male a saddened smile and nod, squeezing his hand back when your voice seems to fail.
Thank you.
---
The chill of winter slides away with the onset of a warming spring, and things have been becoming more normal. You and Levi finally resumed training once you seemed to cope with the loss of Rico.
You were behind, yes, but doing everything in your power to catch up but with one major caveat. Your 18th birthday was just around the corner. Your days were full of meetings, ballroom preparations, lessons, training, and sword practice. There had hardly been any downtime to relax or breathe, and everything was slowly becoming overwhelming,
Levi was accommodating though, with practices starting later and later in the evening. You had started to learn and understand this raven-haired boy better, with his insomniac-like tendencies, and his peculiar and dry sense of humor.
You liked spending time with him.
To your benefit, Levi was a surprisingly good teacher, and even though most nights you were tired and fed up, Levi could handle your banter. He had a sharp tongue, which kept your focus on getting better, but he was never too harsh.
Whenever he was unable to help you, Annie or Pieck picked up the slack to be your punching bag or let you try out a new combination on them. But with months of training under your belt, you were becoming an increasingly lethal opponent.
One evening you were getting ready to head down to the training yard to practice with Levi, fixing your gauntlets and securing your sword as you rushed to get ready. It was the night before your 18th birthday, and your mother insisted on planning a huge ball for your coming of age.
Just as you were putting the finishing touches on your outfit, there was a knock on your door. Latching onto the handle, you open it to see Levi, who always comes by your room before practice. There was one glaring difference that caught your eye, shock covering your features as your gaze took him in.
He typically donned his plain, smooth metal practice gear when training with you, but instead, Levi was covered in new, glimmering plates of intricate armor. The smooth breastplate that once was blank and had no symbol, was now textured metal lined with gold and donned the royal insignia on it. His expression was no different than normal, he just wore his usual, stoic frown.
Your eyes widen at the realization of his upgraded armor and you can’t help the words that burst from your mouth, “You’ve made it into the guard?!” It comes out as an almost-shout, which catches Levi’s attention.
His silvery gaze widens ever-so-slightly at your realization, and he shuffles on his feet before he gives you a slow nod. He straightens up for a moment before motioning to the hallway outside of your room and replies, “Let’s go for a walk, princess.”
Your mouth is still parted open in surprise, and your hands have come to interlock in front of your chest, but you do as he requests and move to walk side-by-side with him down the hallway. Your footsteps fall in sync out of habit and you gasp at him again and say, “I didn’t know you were getting knighted today, you should have told me!”
The new knight just shrugs as if it made no difference to him, folding his arms behind his back in thought. He briefly looked to the ground and his black locks moved to fall over his angled cheekbones.
You playfully hip-bump him lightly, trying to reinforce your point. On the rare occasion he wasn’t paying attention, or he was just letting you think that, he stumbles forward a little bit. His arms come down to rest at his sides again and he looks over at you, slightly offended.
Giggles fall from your lips at his reaction and you chuckle out, “I’m serious! That's such a huge deal and you've only been here for a few months.” A soft, barely noticeable flush covers Levi’s cheeks, and he’s thankful that you don’t seem to see it.
He looks directly in front of you two and replies, “I’m doing my best to protect the kingdom.” You scoff and roll your eyes before retorting, “Puh-lease, you do your own thing without regard for anyone. That’s how you are, Levi.”
Levi’s eyes narrow as he turns to face you and just as he opens his mouth to respond you cut in, “I don’t even know if I can count your friends on the one hand.” You give him a look that says, “You know I’m right,” and he just rolls his eyes and groans, “It’s not like you’re much better, you only hang out with your guards and your maids.”
The playful banter between the two of you continues as you walk the cascading hallways of the castle. The intricate paintings hanging on the walls start to catch the rays of the glowing candlelight and the setting sun.
Before you know it, Levi is steering you into one of the courtyards - Josephina’s Garden Hall. You smile softly at the fond memory of your first-ever training session in this very garden. As you look around, there is not a single person around.
The thought crosses your mind that people are preparing for your birthday, which is just around the corner. Your mother was practically bursting at the seams to host a ball in the largest ballroom of the castle, so all energy was put towards the festivities.
Of course, there were still guards and knights littering the perimeter, but there were fewer stationed around unoccupied areas to focus on decorating or protecting the exterior of the castle.
Levi pulls ahead of you by just a stride, heading toward one of the walls that is adjacent to one of your favorite rose gardens. One of the bushes is coated in giant red blooms, and just as you are about to say how beautiful they are, Levi reaches for something behind one of the flowers.
“What are you-” you start but are interrupted when you catch sight of what he was grabbing. It was a brand new, dark leather sheath with a sword in it. A sheath with your initials on it.
You quickly glance from Levi to the sheathed blade and back again. He returns your gaze with a strange intensity you’ve only ever seen once from him, and it makes you want to almost squirm. It felt like he was seeing through and into you, and it made your heart flutter in your chest in a way you never experienced.
“Happy birthday, princess,” Levi whispers, handing you the darkened leather. Your lips are parted in complete surprise as you accept it from him, your eyes raking over the intricacy of the stitching of your initials.
You don’t waste another moment before grabbing onto the hilt of the sword, drawing it firmly out of the sheath. The last of the sun’s rays catch the unmarked length of the blade, making it glow like an ember burning in the hottest of fires.
Your mouth had fallen open in true admiration and shock at this point, and you turned to Levi in complete wonder and appreciation. You swallow thickly and stutter out, “I, I can’t accept this, Levi,” dropping the sword back into the sheath and offering it back to him.
The dark-haired man simply shakes his head and states, “You deserve that blade, princess. You’ve worked very hard, and while you still have a lot to learn, you need more than a wooden practice sword or dull blade to protect yourself.”
You can’t help the huge smile that rushes to your face, and a wave of excitement takes over you. In a split second, you lunge forward toward Levi, crushing him into a huge hug.
He once again isn’t fast enough to react, and he’d never admit it, but he was enraptured at the sight of you: your hair falling perfectly around your face, the light of the sun reflecting the pure joy in your eyes, the strength you exuded as you held your new blade… you were stunning.
Levi struggles against you for a second, afraid someone would think he was taking advantage of you, alone like this, but after a moment, softens into your embrace and slowly pats you on the back.
You pull away from the hug as a stray tear runs down your cheek. You sniffle as you let out an embarrassed laugh, wiping at the tear as you gush, “I apologize, I didn’t mean to get so emotional. This is such a beautiful gift, Levi. I don’t even know how to properly thank you.”
Levi lets a hint of a smile rest on his lips, and his eyebrows softening ever so slightly as he murmurs, “You don’t need to thank me for anything. I should be thanking you for giving me a place here at the palace, and I apologize for being so rude when I first arrived.”
You wave your hand dismissively at him before laughing, “It’s alright, you were the first and only person to openly challenge me like that, and I needed that reality check.”
The two of you stand in silence for a moment, close to one another but not quite touching. You shuffle and glance at your feet and at your hand holding your new blade. You mumble, “There’s something I want to ask you, Levi.”
He quirks an eyebrow in interest at your sudden shift in tone but he motions for you to go on with a gentle nod. You sigh before a saddened smile covers your face, the dying rays of the sun just catching the last of your drying tears.
“Annie is leaving the guard after my birthday celebration is over,” you explain, “She wants to live a life with her father in the country, and the king has arranged for her to leave. That leaves a gap in my defense, and while I’m much more capable of defending myself, I’m missing a knight-” “I’ll do it.”
Levi’s voice comes out soft and low, and it catches you off guard at how much emotion it seems to hold. “I’ll join your personal guard if that is what you wish, princess. Just say the word and that will be my next mission in life.”
You blink up at him, your smile shifting from one of sadness to one of thanks, “Please, would you join my personal guard?” Levi bows to you and utters quietly under his breath, so quiet you don’t hear him, “As you wish.”
When he stands up straight, you give him a slight bow and the two of you stop for a moment, silently regarding the other. A moment passes and you give him an almost cheeky smile before turning away, and without hesitation, Levi follows you.
---
You see, that was the start of a beautiful friendship between you and the dark-haired man. It was built on long days of sparring, bickering, and slowly but surely, tolerating each other. On the day of your 18th birthday, Levi was appointed to your guard and soon began taking his patrols with Pieck, swapping in and out with Porco, Reiner, and the other guards who had also recently been knighted.
Now officially a knight, it was harder to get training practices in, but whenever it was his shift to watch over you, the two of you found yourselves in the training grounds. The training sessions continued for months, your sword skills becoming more and more refined.
Before you knew it, a year or two seemed to slip by like the finest silk, and your friendship with Levi bloomed into something tried, true, and trustworthy. He was always there when you needed him to be, a reliable soldier and a trusted friend.
You weren’t blind to how the two of you grew up, Levi got slightly taller and thicker with muscle. No matter the day, he always, always, always got stronger. You, on the other hand, became more elegant and stronger in your own ways. You became physically stronger, yes, but you found your voice and learned how to rule and talk to your subjects while remaining kind as you always had been.
Over time, Levi had learned your ways rather quickly. The time you woke up. How long it took you to roll out of bed. Just how you liked your morning coffee or tea. It seemed so domestic every morning whenever he’d knock on your door to see if you were awake or not.
A fondness developed between the two of you for those easy morning conversations, not that either of you would admit it. While the two of you constantly bickered and playfully argued, Levi saw through the facade and to the sweet and tender side of you.
It was moments when you would kindly thank your maids, or encourage your younger siblings. He saw the way you treated the guests who would visit from overseas, and he found a deep respect for you.
And although you had many personal guards, Levi ended up being the one that stuck by you the most often, often by your parent's wishes. With Levi in the guard and not out protecting the towns surrounding the palace, crime rates had increased. And so, the king and queen wanted you to be the safest you could, with the best protection around.
---
On a cool winter morning, with snow glistening on the windowsill, you had just gotten dressed and were preparing for a meeting with your parents. They had found someone they thought would be a lovely suitor for you, as you were now old enough to be betrothed to someone of equally high status.
A soft knock on your door catches your attention, and you fumble with your earrings as you call, “Just a moment!” But the door opens anyway, and in comes Levi, a scowl covering his face.
Yet when his eyes land on you, fixing your earring in a slight panic, his eyes soften and he mutters, “It’s just me, relax.”
His silvery eyes seem to linger, though. They take in the gentle curve of your cheek dusted with blush, then fixate on the necklace hanging around your neck.
Levi is no fool. He has come to know you over the years, and he knows you are one of the most beautiful women he has ever seen. Of course you were, you’re a princess.
He has to shake his head slightly to clear his thoughts before he coughs once to clear his throat. Levi glances up at you and states, “It’s almost time for your meeting with the king and queen, Y/n.”
You give him a warm smile and ask, “Walk with me?” Levi offers you his arm in his classic fashion, and you take hold of his arm like you always did.
Levi guides you out of your room and down the familiar hallway. The arches were cast in a soft, ethereal glow, the snow from the courtyard reflecting the light brightly. Your steps land in sync and quietly echo as the two of you silently move toward the meeting halls.
You sigh and glance down at the floor as you mumble, “I don’t know if I’m ready for this, Levi. My parents have spent so long trying to find me a suitor, but I’ve disliked all of them. I’m afraid they’re running out of patience, or that I’m not worthy to be a good wife.”
Levi stops in his tracks at your words, a bored and stern look on his face. He pinches the bridge of his nose with his free hand before running it through his black locks and saying, “Are you kidding me, Y/n? You are a beautiful, strong, and intelligent princess. You are practically the epitome of a queen and wife, and if anything, I think you scare a lot of your suitors off because of that.”
Surprise floods over you, and the words of praise coming from Levi seem to float around in your mind. Beautiful? Strong? Smart? He thinks I’m beautiful?
But Levi doesn’t give you any more time to think. He continues walking, dragging you along as he finishes, “Just because you haven’t found the right man for you yet, doesn’t mean that you won’t find him. He might be the most surprising person you’ll ever meet.”
You stay quiet at that, walking silently next to your knight and trying to process his words. And before you know it, you have made it to the meeting room where you knew your parents and a suitor would be waiting.
Levi slowly releases your grip, letting his hand slide down your arm before grasping your palm. He gives your hand a gentle and encouraging squeeze before releasing it, and walking up to the large door.
He hits the knocker three times to signal your arrival, and just a moment later two butlers open the door from the inside, ushering the two of you in.
Just as you expected, your mother and father were sitting at the head of the table, and at your entrance into the room, all eyes were set on you and Levi. You are dressed to perfection, regarding the room with elegance and grace, taking in the setup and the profile of the room and the suitor.
The tall, blonde gentleman stands up and bows before you can speak and states, “Good morning, princess.”
You swallow deeply and smile as you curtesy and reply, “Good morning, sir.” You take your seat next to your mother, and you can feel Levi’s steps stiffen as he walks behind you, pulls your chair out for you, and gets you settled in.
He ends up standing a chair or two down in the corner of the room, watching and waiting as he was trained. Your eyes flash towards your parents in a sweet greeting before you take in the appearance of the suitor.
The man was tall. Very tall. He had longer blonde hair and just a small bit of facial hair. He wore very fine clothing, embroidered with intricate details, and obviously fitted by a professional tailor.
The potential suitor bows again and states, “I appreciate your time this morning, Princess Y/n, my name is Viscount Miche Zacharius.”
At the sound of his name, you could hear Levi’s blade scraping against the wall ever so slightly. You shoot him a concerned glance, but all you can see is a hardened look on Levi’s face.
He looked… mad?
You turn back to Miche, and with a practiced smile you reply, “It’s wonderful to meet with you this morning, my lord.” The blonde smiles in response, and before he can speak again, the king cuts in, “Tell us about your kingdom, Miche. Y/n would love to hear about your homeland.”
Your teeth grit together as your father speaks for you, but you keep the practiced smile plastered on your face as you watch Miche chuckle slightly nervously, but he nods.
Seconds fade into minutes, and minutes lead onto an hour as Miche, your father, mother, and occasionally you, make conversation. You could tell Miche was a nice man with good morals, but there was something lacking in the conversation that kept you jumping for joy.
However, your mother and father thought the two of you kicked things off well, even considering the fact they hardly let you talk to the man. Your mother was so enthralled with the idea of you and Miche that she suggested a ball to be hosted for the two of you to get to know one another better - an offer your father couldn’t refuse. And neither could you.
“What a grand idea!” Miche exclaims, standing up to shake your father’s hand, “Do let me know of the details as soon as you get it planned.” He then turns to you, excitedly and says, softer, “I do hope you’ll save me some spaces on your dance card, princess.”
You giggle uncertainly and reply, “Of course, my lord.” At that, Miche takes your hand, gently, and presses a chaste kiss to your knuckles before giving you a bow and leaving the room, your father a pace behind him.
Your mother is practically swooning at how sweet the man seems to be, but you are quite taken aback by his forwardness. You hear metal scrape against the wall again, and out of the corner of your eye, you can see a firm frown etched on Levi’s features.
He was pissed.
The walk back to your room is quiet and tense, with no words passing between the two of you. You could have practically screamed in frustration when your door finally latched closed and it was just you and Levi on the other side.
“Who does he think he is?!” you immediately lament, whipping around the face of Levi, who’s already rubbing at his face in frustration. In response, he just groans, “I think he’s the most bold one yet. You have to dance with that guy?”
You pause and look Levi in the eye before groaning, flopping down onto your bed like a little girl. Levi folds his arms across his chest and shrugs, “At least he’s polite?” You harshly look over at him, a pout on your lips.
“He’s like talking to a tree that never became a book. He just kept growing,” you manage to mumble around the sheets of your bed. Levi scoffs at your words before leaning back against the door and snaps back, “The guy sure is full of himself. No wonder it’s taken him this long to find a wife.”
You feel a pang run through you and you sit up from your bed, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “I’ve been looking for a suitor for a while too, Levi. Hopefully, I’m not full of myself. Or not too picky.” Your hands find themselves carding together as you look down at them, and you miss the dark-haired knight’s expression change.
The furrow in his brow softens and he pushes off the wall to stand in front of you. He takes a breath as he stops in front of you and starts, “Y/n, I-” But you beat him to it, “What if I never find love, Levi?” You look up to meet his silver gaze at that moment, tears darkening your lashes.
Levi sighs, letting the air flow freely out of his nose as he sits down next to you on your bed, quiet. Then, he meets your gaze once again and he murmurs, “You will, Y/n/n. You will.”
You smile sadly at him, and he reaches his hand toward your face to tuck an unruly piece of hair out of your face. Just before his hand can make contact with your skin, there is a knock at the door.
The moment is gone in a flash, and Levi quickly moves to stand post by the doors to your balcony and you wipe under your eyes. You guiltily look at Levi, who has gone back to his classic stoic look, staring straight ahead.
Another pang of guilt runs through you as you tear your eyes away from his frame, instead focusing on the person on the other side of your door. You take a breath and then call, “Come in!” Then, a head of blonde hair appears and you recognize the guard as Reiner.
“I was told I might find you here,” he says with a bow, “I was sent to relieve Levi from duty for a little while.” Reiner props the door open a little further before stepping into the room, and Levi turns to regard his fellow soldier with a respectful nod.
Before he leaves the room, the dark-haired man faces you and gives you a bow with a simple, “Good day, princess.” Before you know it, he’s gone, and it’s just you and Reiner left in the silence of the room.
---
Over the next couple of days, you didn’t see much of Levi. You thought it slightly odd, but you figured he was on a personal quest for your father or taking some personal days. Eventually, when you were trying to find him so you could spar a little, he couldn’t be found anywhere.
You stopped a maid who had brought fresh linens for your bed and asked, “Have you seen a short, dark-haired knight recently? He goes by the name Levi, I haven’t seen him in a while.” The maid pauses in thought and then replies, “I do think I recall a dark-haired soldier turning up in the infirmary a few days ago. I can check to see if that is who you are talking about.”
You shake your head and quip, “There will be no need for that, I will make my way there now.” Without another moment’s notice, you turn and slide out of your room, (colored) gaze set on finding the infirmary.
Typically, you didn’t spend much time in the infirmary because you were royalty and you had your own personal staff. However, you occasionally would pick up small supplies after training if you had a small cut or brush burn from the grass.
It was fairly quiet as you slipped into the entrance of the sick bay, with no doctors or nurses in sight. You take a deep breath as you peer around the few rooms that make up the infirmary, making your way as silently as you can so as to not disturb anyone resting.
Just as you make it to the last room, you can hear coughing on the other side. You just barely peer through the door when you catch sight of a familiar black head of hair. Levi.
You push the door open and remark, “I wondered where you disappeared to, soldier.” Levi’s head immediately snaps up to take in your frame entering his small room. He opens his mouth to answer you, but another coughing fit overtakes him.
You rush next to his side, finding a small cup of water on his bedside table. You offer him the cup, watching him soothe his irritated throat with a frown before handing the water back to you.
“It’s not what it looks like,” he grumbles out lowly, trying to avoid sputtering again. A giggle slides through your lips before you can stop it, and you bring a hand up to cover your smile when you catch sight of Levi’s annoyed gaze. It only makes you giggle harder, and you can see his displeased look ease a little at your laughter.
As you calm down, you manage to take a breath and smirk, “It looks like you’re sick to me, Levi.” The dark-haired knight just rolls his eyes, his hands fiddling with the blanket on his lap to pull it up higher on his waist.
“It’s nothing,” he grumbles out again, “The king and queen forced me to come down here so I can “recover as fast as possible” or something.” You nod knowingly with a gentle smile on your face, saying, “I can imagine they only had the best intentions and wanted to see you well before the suitor’s ball tonight.”
He groans and rubs at his flushed face with one hand and mumbles through his night shirt’s sleeve, “Don’t remind me about that. I think standing there watching everyone dance and act so cheerful would kill me faster than any blade would.”
You scoff and roll your eyes at your best friend replying, “You are so dramatic!” But then a moment passes and you tuck a piece of hair behind your ear saying, “Actually, you’re probably right. My mother is going to have me hanging on every man’s arm within a thousand miles tonight.”
This time, Levi is the one to just barely crack a smile and he shrugs, “Who knows, you might actually enjoy the ball. There will be no lack of eligible suitors, and I can’t imagine all of them are complete imbeciles.”
His words get you to giggle again, and you nod along in agreement, your eyes trailing toward the clock on the wall. As the time on the clock registers in your mind, panic starts to set in and you scramble to your feet muttering, “Crap, crap, crap!”
Levi’s gaze follows yours and he realizes it too: you’re late for getting ready! You glance apologetically at Levi, who goes to swallow and then starts sputtering with more coughs.
He waves you off and manages to squawk out, “Go have fun, tell me all about it later.” You give him a grateful smile and over your shoulder you call out, “I will! Please try to feel better and get some rest!”
With one last glance over your shoulder, you set off toward your room to get ready for the ball. Your maids about mauled you when they finally managed to wrangle you into your ballgown and start to get you presentable for the public.
Since Levi was out sick, Reiner and Porco were assigned to watch over you for the evening. They follow closely as you make your way to the ballroom, greeting guests pleasantly and making your way to the heart of the festivities.
While the ballroom was decorated magnificently, the entire atmosphere felt slightly disappointing and moderate. There were many suitors around, none of which seemed to interest you. In the distance, you could see Miche talking with another tall blonde male, but you ducked behind a waiter to make your move toward the king and queen.
Your parents were talking with lords about their investments and businesses, and all you managed to understand was that they wanted money from the royals. You have to refrain from rolling your eyes, but you stand quietly and listen to the conversation come to a close.
Your mother turns to you, excitement written on her features as she hands you a piece of paper saying, “Here is your dancing card, dear! I’ve already done you the liberty of picking out which suitors to dance with based on their resumes. Have fun!”
She wraps the filled-out dancing card around your wrist, tying it neatly before giving you a giddy smile and pushing you toward the man whose name is first on the list. Miche Zacharius.
You groan internally as you make your way over to the tall man, who grows visibly interested as you break into his peripheral. He excuses himself from his conversation, bowing in front of you when he sees you stop in from of him.
“Princess Y/n,” he says, straightening up and catching the lustrious light in your eyes. You give him a shallow curtsey and reply, “Lord Miche, how lovely to see you this evening.” In the back of your head, you couldn’t help but wish you were anywhere else at this very moment.
Miche tips his head toward you and shrugs, “I think it is I who am the lucky one to be in your presence.” And as if on cue, the orchestra starts playing the next song, a waltz, to which Miche offers you his hand with a, “May I have this dance?”
You give him a tight-lipped smile and place your gloved hand in his own, allowing the tall blonde to escort you to the empty dance floor. He begins to move the two of you around the dance floor, carefully swinging you through the other couples who start dancing around you.
Miche smiles down at you and asks, “If I may ask, princess, how many children would you like to have one day?” It feels like the air is sucked out of your lungs as you give him a polite smile and respond, “Sorry, I’m trying to count my steps, perhaps we can discuss this later?”
He has the liberty to keep his mouth shut during the first dance, but once the two of you take a break and you look at your dance card, you can see your mother has booked him for the next four dances.
During those dances, Miche asks you too many questions, to which you politely respond. You tried to sound not too interested but also not too dry, simply polite. You were praying for when the fifth song would end, and you don’t think it could come soon enough.
The whole point of the ball was aggravating to you, and you couldn’t help but hate the evening as you were twirled from lord to lord. You wanted to slip out unnoticed, find a pint of wine or something of the like, and complain about all of it to Levi.
However, you manage to stick it out through the night, engaging in pointless conversation and dancing until you are about to roll your ankles. As the night wrapped up and your dancing card was completed, you scanned the crowd, your eyes landing on Porco and Reiner, who seemed to be arguing about which lady in waiting was the prettiest.
You scoff at the two knights, but with them distracted, it gives you the perfect opportunity to slip away. You take one more scan of the room before slowly backing out of one of the doorways. With no one’s eyes on you, you disappear from the ball without a trace.
You had your eyes set on one thing - go check on Levi and tell him about your endeavors that night. You weren’t able to find a bottle of wine to easily sneak out, but you did find a small plate of cheese that you grabbed on your way to the infirmary.
As you make your way back to Levi’s sick room, you can hear the sound of metal scraping. You raise an eyebrow at the noise, and as you poke your head into the small room, you can see the source.
There’s Levi, sharpening his blade in the middle of the night. You sigh and bring your hand up to knock on the wall to alert him of your arrival. His head snaps up quickly from his sword to your figure at his door, his body going tense in a moment.
When he realizes it's you, you can see him relax, but his gaze remains on you, fixed. You can’t quite place the look on his face, his eyes are wide and locked onto you, completely frozen. You duck under the sudden intensity in his gaze, murmuring, “I brought you some cheese from the ball.”
You walk into the room, the ruffles on the edge of your skirt rustling as you place the plate next to his water on the nightstand by his bed. Levi’s silver gaze follows your every movement, no words escaping him. You sit down in the chair next to his bed, grab a small piece of cheese, and pop it into your mouth with a huff.
You glance over to see Levi still staring at you while you chew, and suddenly you feel hot under his watchful gaze. You look down for a second and swallow before asking, “Are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
A moment passes as you wait for his response, and it gives you a second to take in his condition. His usually pale cheeks were painted pink with a gentle flush and his skin was slightly shiny from sweat. He must have a bit of a fever, you think to yourself.
Levi swallows thickly as he looks at you, his mouth opening and closing once or twice with no words leaving them. Mistakenly, you think he can’t answer because his throat hurts and he needs water, so you burst out, “Let me get you something to drink!”
Your hand reaches to grab his cup of water, which seems to be empty. In a flash, Levi’s hand has wrapped around your wrist, his silver eyes never leaving your face. The quick movement startles you, which makes you drop the cup, a small amount of water falling onto the floor.
Levi’s sword clatters to the ground, which makes you flinch in surprise. You glance from the water pooling near your feet to the sword that landed on the opposite side of the bed and back to Levi.
Your mouth parts open in a stammer as you start, “Sorry, let me, uhm… let me grab a towel to clean this-” “You look beautiful,” he cuts in lowly. You raise your eyebrows in surprise at his comment, the words slowly registering in your head.
Once they do, you can feel butterflies erupt in your belly and you glance away from the dark-haired knight and roll your eyes playfully. “Oh hush, you’re just seeing things with your sickness.”
This seems to snap Levi out of his daze and he releases your wrist with a playful scoff of his own, “You wish, princess.” You smile at him, one that he knows is of thanks to his compliment. He clears his throat and questions, “How was the ball? It must not have been great if you are down here all ready.”
You lean down to pick up his cup off the wooden floor, a groan falling from your lips, “It was all crap, Levi. It was men who wanted money, men who wanted the crown, and men who wanted to dance. It was so annoying. ”
You straighten back up, placing the cup back on the table and skirting around the water on the ground. Levi chuckles at that, and he motions to the edge of his bed with his chin and says, “Tell me all about it.” A giggle falls from your lips as you move to sit near his feet and you reply, “As long as you’ll listen to me complain about how terrible of a dancer Miche is!”
The rest of the evening is peaceful compared to the stress of the ball, the two of you making fun of the suitors and princes from across the countryside. You don’t even realize how late the evening runs, but you do know that you aren’t ready for bed just quite yet.
---
A couple of days had passed since the suitor’s ball and Levi had been put down with his illness. Thankfully, after another day or two of rest, he seemed to turn for the better and was ready to get back to the service.
Just around 8 o'clock in the morning, just as he always would, Levi makes his way toward your bedroom, feeling energetic and recovered from being sick. He stops in front of the familiar and grandiose door, pausing in thought before knocking on the dark wood.
He waits for a minute or so, but he doesn’t hear any noise from the other side of the door. The dark-haired knight sighs in slight annoyance, it’s his first day back, after all, and you aren’t responding. Levi knocks again on the door, this time a little harder and with more urgency.
When he is once again met with silence, he takes it upon himself to call out, “Princess Y/n? Are you alright?” To anyone else, it may have sounded like he was just calling out to you, but between you and him, he knew there was worry in his voice.
His impatience seems to take over him, and Levi finds his fingers wrapping around the door handle and pushing it open. As he steps into your room, one he had been in many times, his steely gaze rakes across every detail he sees.
Your bed was empty and remade, so you weren’t asleep. The loveseat in the corner of your room where you typically sat and read was also void of your presence. Levi turned toward the bathroom that was connected to your room, but there was no sign of candlelight or movement.
A sigh falls from Levi’s parted lips in frustration, and he shuts your bedroom door behind him before stepping deeper into your personal space. He opens his mouth, about to call out for you again before he sees a figure moving in the walk-in closet behind your desk.
It’s you, thankfully, and Levi’s figure relaxes as he takes in the… interesting sight of you. You were shuffling out into the main space of your bedroom, your hands grabbing at the bodice of the dress, with a slightly irritable look on your face.
He almost cracks a smile as he watches you fumble and almost trip as you make your way up to him, but instead, he murmurs, “Well good morning to you, princess.” You give him a playful scowl and mutter, “Shut up, …and help me zip this please?”
At the end of your sentence, you swivel 180 degrees, showing him your half-exposed back, where you couldn’t quite finish zipping the dress up. You wait a moment and then rush out, “I don’t know where my maids are and I couldn’t find anyone else to help-”
“It’s alright,” Levi’s voice cuts in lowly, and you can hear him take a step toward you. This makes you relax, shuffling your hands to pick the dress up to the correct height to be comfortable.
However, with your back to Levi, you miss the complete and utter look of nervousness and awe on his face as his hands make contact with the soft skin on your back. His typically stoic resolve crumbles when his hands just barely begin to quiver as he grabs a hold of the fabric and begins to pull it taut.
Levi is silently cursing the heat that is rushing to his face, swirling in his chest, and giving him butterflies in his stomach. With pink dusting his nose and the close proximity to you, his magnificent best friend, he wasn’t sure what to feel. But, he pushes through, his hands grabbing onto your waist so the zipper would slide up the fabric with more ease.
You aren’t in much better condition than Levi, and you’re glad he can’t see your face. Heat is coursing through your veins, but his warm touch has chills running up and down your spine. A shuddery breath escapes you as you feel his palm flatten against your waist, and you have to will yourself to be calm as he works on zipping you in.
His fingers work in good time, making sure the intricacies of the dress are not damaged or pulled on as he zips the dress up closer to your neck. At the top of the zipper, there is a small clasp to keep it from pulling apart, and he brings both hands up to clasp it.
You feel his warm breath on your neck, and you can feel goosebumps rising on your skin from the small distance between the two of you. It’s completely silent between the two of you as he takes a minute step backward, but it’s enough for you to feel like you can breathe.
The air is thick, heavy almost. There was tension, and you aren’t quite sure where it originated from. You can’t help but be disappointed when his warm hands leave your waist, and you try to fight down the butterflies in your belly as your brain processes his touch.
You liked it. No, you needed more of it.
What? How could you think that? Levi was your… what was Levi?
As you turn around to face him, you give him an uncertain and slightly shy smile and whisper, “Thank you.” Levi holds your (colored) gaze, looking deeply into what could almost be his favorite color, and gives you a subtle nod.
He was just your personal knight, right? He was your best friend, right? …You had no idea.
You take a shuddery breath and start, “Levi, there’s something I-” but you are interrupted by a flock of maids bursting into your room. You jump away from Levi, who also takes a few steps backward and moves to stand near the door.
“We are so sorry, Princess Y/n, for being late! We knocked on the door several times but we did not hear an answer,” one of the older maids says, curtsying low in front of you. You turn to face her and you give her a tight-lipped smile and reply, “It is quite alright, Marie.”
The maid stands up and urges, “You must not be late for your foreign policies lecture, the queen will have my head if you are not on time!” You give her a nod and looking over her shoulder to Levi, you ask, “Walk with me?”
The maids clear out of the way, dispersing as quickly as they came. Levi clears the doorway for you, letting you lead the way down the hall. It was quiet for a moment before the dark-haired knight cleared his throat and murmured, “You were saying?”
“It was nothing,” you rush out, wringing your hands together in a nervous fashion. Silence falls between the two of you again, and you direct your vision to the many doors and paintings you pass on the way to the lecture hall.
It’s an uncomfortable silence, so you try to break it with a joke, “I was surprised you weren’t earlier than you were this morning, seeing as it is your first day back since your illness.” Levi scoffs at your remark and refutes, “I do believe it was you who was up earlier than normal, I knocked on your door precisely at 8 o’clock.”
You giggle at this, your hands still fiddling with one another as the pair of you glide down the hallway. The banter picks up between the two of you as normal, but Levi couldn’t help but feel like there was something you may have been hiding from him.
However, he brushes it off and tries to think nothing of it while he stands guard outside of your lecture hall. He tries to focus on getting back into work and pushes the feeling of your skin and body out of his mind.
---
It had been a few days since the zipper incident and the king and queen announced that they wanted to host a festival in the town square with the spring season ending and merging into a beautiful, warm summer.
For you, it was one of your favorite times of the year, since you got the chance to meet with the children of the town. You loved playing with the children, encouraging their interests, and not letting them give up on their hopes and dreams.
You adored events like this, so it was only natural that you were getting dolled up to meet with the people of your home. The festival typically hosted live music from the best musicians around, food brought from all over the country, and the town square decorated to the top for the best area to go dancing.
You spent most of the morning getting ready for the festival. You had to make sure your dress was absolutely perfect - not too extravagant, but still dressy enough for everyone to recognize you as the princess. Then, you put the finishing touches to your makeup before Levi came knocking on your door around noon.
“Are you ready?” he asks as he guides you through the castle and out through the gates. You sigh dreamily before answering, “I believe so. This is one of my favorite times of the year, after all.”
The two of you made your way down to the town just outside the palace, where people were bustling about, trying to finalize the touches to their stalls. Children were laughing and playing, running around with yellow and red streamers in their hands.
Levi guides you around them, leading you toward the heart of the festival, and your favorite place to be: the dance floor. There were even more children here, and the orchestra was just set off the to side of the tiled area, a joyful tune bouncing off of their strings.
You leave Levi’s side to join them, falling in with the children to dance and let loose. The daytime was made for the children during the festival, and then when the stars would come out and the sun sank below the horizon, the parents would enjoy themselves.
You sing and dance with the children for what seems like hours to Levi, but he doesn’t mind as he stands guard on the edge of the town square. He could easily see you but also maintain a visual around the dance area, his silver gaze on the lookout for any potential intruders.
The songs seem to blend together until a small brown-haired boy grabs onto your right hand. He tugged on your fingers for a moment and asked, “May I dance with you, Princess Y/n?” Your heart feels like it’s about to burst with the sweetness from the young boy, and you give him a sweet smile and a nod.
“Lead the way, good sir!” you chuckle out as you motion to the opening dance floor. Your sage green and dark brown colored skirts ruffle as you are led onto the floor by the bouncing young boy, and you can’t help but giggle as other young girls and boys join you in the middle of the town square.
You can hear the live orchestra count off, and the little boy offers you his other hand to dance, and with a genuine smile, you accept. Since the boy was maybe 8 years old, you had to lean down to hold both of his hands, but he didn’t seem to mind as he began to spin and twirl you around to the music.
While slightly clumsy and uncoordinated in his movements, you didn’t mind the boy's antics, giggling and laughing as the boy spun you, and you spun him. The other children were no different, gleefully dancing the night away.
You didn’t seem to notice Levi’s silver gaze watching you sharply, noting how you giggled each time the boy spun you or the way your eyes lit up when you got mixed up in all of the children dancing. To the dark-haired knight, you looked perfect at that moment.
With the afternoon sun’s warm rays casting down on you, you were simply golden. The festival's market stalls with red and yellow banners donning the kingdom’s insignia were paled in comparison to you. Although you were wearing a more simple gown for the festivities, you shone brighter than any of the lanterns or rays from the sun.
Levi couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. To put it simply, you looked gorgeous. Not just in the way that you were dressed and styled, but in the way that true joy brings out the best in someone. He could feel how raw your emotions were as you danced, and he couldn’t help but wish he was the one swinging you around instead.
Just as the upbeat song ended, Levi felt a passive tap on his side. He instinctively reached for the hilt of his sword, but when he looked to see what had bumped him, he immediately stopped.
There, looking up at him, was a little girl no older than 3 or 4 years old. She had dark, black curls falling around her face, and her bright blue eyes were wide as she stared up at the knight. The little girl taps again on his hand, slightly bouncing as she giggles, “Dance, dance!”
Little did Levi know, you had stopped dancing to catch your breath and talk to him, but you ceased your movements when you saw the little girl next to him. You can’t help but hold your breath as Levi turns to face her, and you can just barely make out the words he says.
“I’m sorry, miss,” he starts, moving to kneel down so he is at eye level with the girl. A frown starts to crease between her eyebrows and she repeats, “Dance! Dance!” She stomps her small feet against the ground in protest, and Levi says as he tries to explain, “I’m working right now, I’m not allowed to dance.”
Tears begin to well up in the little girl’s big blue eyes, threatening to spill down her smooth cheeks. Levi glances around for a second, eyes scoping to see if anyone watched him make this child cry.
From the corner of his periphery, he catches sight of you watching the interaction. He groans internally, but then he sees you motion to the little girl, and he turns to face her again. She reached across to where his arm was resting on his knee, gently grabbing his fingers.
“Dance?” She repeats softer this time, the tears sliding from the edge of her eyes and down her cheeks. Levi’s heart can’t help but melt a little at the touching sight and he lets out a sigh of defeat.
“Just one dance,” he manages as he stands up straight, offering the girl his gloved hand. Instantly, the little girl starts smiling and giggling, “Dance! Dance, dance!” before launching onto Levi’s thigh.
He’s caught off guard for a second, stumbling back a few steps before regaining his balance. The little girl just laughs the entire time, and once again, Levi glances around for help. Unsure of what to do, he reaches down and picks the little girl up by her small waist, hoisting her up to his side opposite his blade.
Just then, the music started to pick back up and more people were making their way to the dance floor, and Levi begrudgingly followed, much to the little girl’s enjoyment. As he shuffles toward the edge of the dance floor, he catches sight of Zeke and Porco, who are standing guard on the other side of the tiled area.
He could see the two blondes snickering to themselves, pointing to the little girl and back to Levi. He can feel a moment of rage well up inside of him, but he pushes it down as he turns to face the little girl and says, “May I have this dance, miss?”
The little girl throws her arms around Levi’s neck and giggles, “Dance, now, now!” Not a moment passes by before the crowd on the dance floor begins to move in sync with the music. Levi starts to copy everyone’s movements to the best he could holding a toddler, but she doesn’t seem to care about his mistakes.
He twirled and spun the two of them around, slowly but surely letting his guard down as he danced around with the girl. You on the other hand, sat watching the two of them from the sidelines, and your heart was swelling in your chest at the adorable scene in front of you.
I had no idea Levi could be so good with children, you think to yourself, Nor did I know he could dance!
As the two of them passed by every few seconds, you could hear the little girl laughing away, and occasionally you could pick up the word “dance”. The music eventually slows to a finish, and you once again see Levi get down on one knee in front of the little girl.
He reaches under his short cloak and pulls out a small clutch of white daisies, offering them to the little girl. She smiles brightly at him as he says, “I would gladly dance with you again, miss.” The little girl launches at him again, wrapping him in an awkward hug before grabbing the flowers and running off.
Levi watches her small figure run up to a woman with two children next to her and another one in her arms. A minute smile makes its way across his lips as he sees the little girl reach up and give her mom the flowers, turning to point back at the dark-haired knight.
The woman gives him a grateful smile, and he pushes off his knees to stand straight and gives her a nod. Just then, he hears someone clear their throat behind him, and when he looks over his shoulder, he sees you standing there.
The sun was just starting to set behind you, illuminating your frame in its golden glow. Levi’s breath catches in his throat as he turns to face you, noting the sly smile on your lips. You rock back and forth on your feet before saying coyly, “I saw you dancing with that little girl, soldier.”
Levi feels a wave of heat wash over him in embarrassment, his cheeks slightly tinging pink at your comment. He glances to the ground with a shrug and mumbles, “It was nothing.” You scoff at him and playfully hip-bump him with a giggle of, “C’mon, that was absolutely adorable!”
You can see a smile start to crack through his faux facade and you nudge him again, and he finally caves in with a chuckle of, “What was I supposed to do? I couldn’t just hurt her feelings and leave her to cry.”
You laugh along with him, grabbing his arm as he starts to guide you toward the food stalls, “And the flowers? That was a bit over the top!” He just rolls his eyes, a pleasant smile on his face as he sighs out, “Let’s go get you some food before nightfall.”
He guides the two of you through the market stalls, and you pick and choose which snacks and foods intrigue you the most. Just as you finish off a small glass of cherry wine, Levi pulls you behind one of the market stalls without a word.
You don’t question his movements, simply following in his footsteps until you see where he’s brought you. It’s just one street down from where all of the festivities are taking place, and it’s much quieter without the hustle of everyone and the harshness of the music.
The fresh air and light breeze swirl around you, making you take a deep breath through your nose that you slowly sigh out through your mouth, (colored) orbs fluttering closed. Levi watches you in that moment, noting the way your hair was coming slightly undone from a small clip that pinned away (colored) locks behind your ear.
Then you open your eyes and turn to him, a sweet smile on your lips as you say, “Thanks for getting me out of there for a bit, it was starting to get a little overwhelming.” He nods under your watchful gaze, motioning to a small bench just down the street.
The two of you sit down for a moment, eyes fixed on the sun setting in front of you. The once golden color was now bleeding shades of carmine and lavender, swirled with rusts and peaches. It was silent except for the sound of the festival on the other side of the stone wall behind your bench, not that you minded.
A few minutes of silence pass between you and Levi before he starts to shift, catching your attention. He once again reaches under his cloak, hand fumbling for a second before reappearing with one lone daisy.
The small white flower was still in good condition, only the stalk of the plant slightly bent from where it resided on his belt. You glance from the flower back to Levi, whose cheeks are once again slightly flushed, and he offers the flower to you.
Your (colored) gaze widens as you take it from him, admiring the pureness of the petals and the beautiful golden color of its core. You move to place it in your hair saying, “Thank you, Levi! This will be a lovely addition to my outfit tonight.”
You struggle for a moment, trying to push the stem through your unruly locks of hair that were tangled from dancing. Levi’s voice distracts you as he asks lowly, “May I help?” You give him a thin smile and a nod, handing the flower back to him.
Levi pulls the leather glove off of his left hand, setting it on his lap before taking the flower from you. His thin digits reach up slowly, so as to not scare you, before pushing the stem of the daisy through your (colored) tresses. He then brushes a small piece of hair behind your ear, securing the flower and then dropping his hand back to his lap.
It’s tense for a moment, the air thick with emotion, but Levi coughs once and then starts, “Y/n, I’ve been meaning to ask-” “This is my favorite song!” you burst out, your attention turning toward the music coming from the other street.
The tune was loud and unmistakably your favorite, and you stood up in a hurry, calling, “We must discuss this later! I cannot miss my favorite song!” And with that, you disappeared around the corner, with Levi sighing from where he was on the bench, his stomach dropping.
But, he takes a deep breath, stands up, and follows you back into the festival.
---
Night had fallen. The sky was a deep, midnight blue, flecked with stars that glimmered in the lantern light of the festival. The crowd was livelier now than it had been before dusk, with all the children tucked into bed and the parents out on the town.
For you, however, you were done with dancing and playing. Now, you had to act like the royalty you were supposed to be representing. And that meant dealing with your father and mother who wouldn’t stop talking about Miche and other suitors.
“Honestly, Y/n, I don’t see why you aren’t getting excited about this time in your life,” your mother chastises, motioning to you up and down with a look of slight disappointment on her face. You want to groan internally at her comment, but you just reply tightly, “I would be excited if I found someone worth marrying, mother!”
Your father clears his throat and insists, “Well I do have another fine set of suitors coming in for you to try out. I even believe one of them is a prince!” Instead of being excited by the thought of more suitors, it simply enraged you.
You rise to your feet quickly, rushing out, “I can’t do this.” You take off through the crowd of lords and ladies in waiting, weaving in and out of the people until you disappear from eyesight. You blocked out the calls of your parents as you made haste, tears starting to burn at the edge of your vision.
Levi witnessed the whole encounter from a few yards away, still standing guard for the evening. He immediately takes off after you without saying a word, skirting around the edge of the crowd while tracking your movements.
You don’t notice Levi following you, too enraptured with the thoughts racing in and out of your mind. Tears are blurring your vision, and you are fighting back sobs as you pick up speed, now running toward the edge of the town.
You clumsily find your way onto the roof of a house near the edge of town, the small building far from the center of the festivities. You clamber to the top of the roof, facing the rising moon, which casts a pale glow that makes it so you can see where you are stepping.
Your mind, however, was at war. More suitors? Can’t my parents tell I don’t like their choice of men for me? Have they not seen how I can’t stand any of them? Why don’t they understand I need someone who knows me…. Who likes to be around me, and I like to be around them?
Someone like Levi, the words ring out in your head. A gasp bursts from your chest and you aren’t sure if you’re crying or trying to catch your breath.
Levi?
His name makes you stop for a second, and as the tears slide down your face and you gaze up at the waxing moon, it clicks in your head.
Your heart…. Yearned for someone like Levi. Your hands itched to grasp more than just his arm walking to and from a lecture. Your soul hungered for the conversations of intellect and familiarity. Your lips thirsted for his landing on yours.
The last thought makes your eyes widen in realization, but you don’t have any time to process it when someone sits down next to you. The familiar baritone sighs out, “There you are,” making you turn to face the dark-haired knight.
You give him a tight-lipped smile, one that is holding back tears and the few words circling your mind like a mantra. Levi’s silver gaze flits between your tearful eyes, and his features soften as he watches the teardrops stream down your cheeks.
“Hey, hey,” he almost coos, hunkering down a little to look up at your face as your chin dropped to your chest, attempting to stifle another sob. His brows furrow in thought before he asks quietly, “Are you alright, Y/n?”
There is a tenderness to his voice that almost makes you want to vomit, but you manage to strangle a deep breath in and let a shaky one out. You toss your head from side to side and stutter, “N-no, Levi. I- I’m, uh, not alright.”
You glance back down at your hands and stay silent. Levi stays still, deep in thought before gently imploring, “Would you like to talk about it? I am here to listen.”
This time, when you look back up, Levi can see the moon and stars reflected in your eyes. They were still wet with tears, but your (colored) orbs seemed to hold the entire night sky in them for one second.
And in that one second, a calm peace seemed to wash over the two of you just as you started to speak, “My parents are bringing in more suitors for me to get to know. They don’t think I’m trying hard enough with my royal duties.”
You sniffle, glancing over at Levi and then continuing, “I just feel as if I don’t ever get to do what I want. Or maybe it’s that I’m frustrated they don’t understand what I want.” Levi nods in understanding when you finish talking, shuffling for a moment before murmuring, “Well, they did let you learn to fight, which is something you wanted to do.”
You sway side to side, swinging your head ever so slightly as if to contemplate his words before muttering, “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Levi could tell that wasn’t the response you were hoping for, but he was never one to sugarcoat things.
“You need to stand up for yourself, Y/n/n,” he murmurs, softer this time. “They don’t take you seriously because they still see you as a child, following their every order. You need to make them realize you aren’t their precious little girl anymore,” and his gaze locks onto yours with a fiery intensity.
“You’re a woman now, and a strong and independent one at that,” he finishes passionately, moving to stand back up. His words echo in your head, and each time you hear the truths behind them, you can’t help but focus on the tone of his voice.
You open your mouth to reply, but he cuts you off, “Let’s get you back to the festival. We can’t have them thinking their princess ran off in the middle of the night.” At the end of his words, he offers you his hand to take, which you accept. He pulls you to your feet and steadies you before motioning back toward the glow of the festival and says, “After you, princess.”
---
It takes a few days for you to build up the courage to confront your parents about the whole suitor debacle. You knew it was something you couldn’t take lightly, but you knew you needed to tell them sooner rather than later.
And before you know it, you are standing in front of them, heart pounding in your chest as the words that your father just said pound in your head like a hammer.
Your mother and I are in agreement. You haven’t made sufficient effort in courting a suitor, so we have chosen one for you. You’re getting married tomorrow.
It feels like the floor dropped out from underneath you, falling into a nothingness that made your stomach whirl. Married? Tomorrow? You can’t deny their wishes even though your entire body is screaming at you to fight, argue, yell. But you can’t.
So instead, you numbly are whisked away to get fitted for a white gown that you didn’t want. You are run through the order of the wedding and the reception, what you are to do, what you are to say, how you are to act.
You didn’t have the guts to face Levi and tell him of the new development in your life, but you knew he was no fool. He heard the rumors, he saw the preparations. And when he was assigned to stand guard at the main hall the following day, he knew.
You hated everything.
You hated the yellowish tone of the white dress, you always wanted one that was more blush-toned. You hated the way your hair was pinned up off of your neck and out of your face. You didn’t want everyone to see your blank stare and emotionless eyes.
You didn’t want any of this. And neither did the dark-haired knight.
The two of you could only follow orders though, and so uneasily, you survived the night. The following morning comes and you are immediately fawned over by your maids and the wedding planners.
First - your makeup. Second, your hair. Finally, the dress. It was a routine that you had dreamed of being ecstatic about, completely in love with the man you were going to marry. But you weren’t.
There is a knock on your door precisely at noon. Three short taps in a row, followed by two shorter ones. Levi. Just thinking about him makes your heart ache with a pain you never knew you could experience.
A maid rushes to open the door, and just before her hand makes it to the golden handle, you call out, “Wait! Let the guard in and please leave. I require a moment alone.” The maid nods to you, opening the door with a smile and curtsy, sliding out of your room before a familiar figure makes his way in.
You were sitting on a short stool a few feet away from your vanity, staring at your reflection in the mirror hanging on the wall. Your whole image was one of grace and elegance, everything a princess should be.
But the light in your eyes was one of a grounded bird. The emotion in your eyes was reminiscent of a beached whale. The frown on your face with the light of a dying deer, hunted by a mountain lion.
Levi stops in his tracks when he catches sight of you, his mouth parting as he takes in your appearance. To put it simply, you were beautiful. He coughs once to clear his throat, a tight line forming his lips before he states, “I am here to guide you to the main hall, Princess Y/n.”
You turn to face him at the sound of his voice, tears threatening to spill down your powdered cheeks. You can’t fight the wobble in your lip as you utter, “Levi…” You can’t see his brow furrow just a smudge more at the pain in your voice, and you feel terrible for not telling him.
“Levi, I- I-...” and you take a breath, your vision blurring over for a second before you continue, “I am so sorry for not telling you about this plan. My parents-” “I know,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion.
You sniffle and stand up, wiping tears away and reaching for a small towel to pat your face dry. He watches every movement, in awe that he could be near someone so ethereal, so heavenly. Levi finds words on the tip of his tongue again, dancing through his mind, coursing through his blood.
But he knows he can’t say anything, it’s your wedding day, after all. He bites his tongue to keep them from spilling out of his mouth, instead giving you a moment to steel your nerves. You walk toward him once you have cleaned up your appearance, and you open your arms with a sad smile.
“Can I please have a hug? I think it might be the only thing to get me through the day,” you croak out with a subtle shrug. Levi’s heart is pounding in his chest, bursting at the thought and meaning of your words.
He nods though, and takes a step forward, opening his arms to wrap around your waist. Your arms come to rest around his neck, pulling the dark-haired knight closer. His hands are warm on your waist, a feeling you know you will miss when he pulls away.
You don’t mind the hard feel of his armor or the feeling of his breath on your neck. You wished the moment would never end so that you didn’t have to marry a man you didn’t love. It’s ruined when the bells outside your window start to ring, and Levi forces himself to slowly pull away from you, looking deep into your (colored) gaze.
You sniffle again saying, “Thank you, Levi. For everything.” He bows and murmurs, “As you wish, Y/n.” As I wish? I wish… I wish to live in this moment forever, Levi. With you.
Levi clears his throat again, and you can see his stoic mask go back on. You feel a pang of guilt wash over you, even though you know it's not your fault. He offers you his arm, and for what could be the last time, you take it.
He guides you down the familiar halls of the castle you grew up in. There are people fluttering about, finalizing the touches to the reception to be held after the ceremony, but you do your best to block them out.
Instead, you try to focus on the feeling of your hand on Levi’s shoulder pauldron, the chill of the silver metal keeping your attention on the knight. In step, the two of you make it outside the doors of the ceremony, where you will walk down the aisle, alone.
Levi reaches across with his second hand, the gloved fingers grabbing your own digits. He squeezes them slowly in a way you know is meant to calm you down. It’ll be okay. I’ll be in there. You can do this.
You give him a tight-lipped and watery-eyed smile before gushing, “I’ll see you on the other side, right?” He squeezes your hand again and then steps away with a nod and says, “I doubt you could get rid of me if you tried.”
A dry giggle escapes you, making you breathe deeply for the first time that day. You are handed a bouquet of flowers, and as you turn to thank the maid, Levi disappears. Not a moment later, music starts to play from the other side of the doors right before they open.
You are met with the faces of hundreds of lords and ladies, people from the town, and the face of the priest and the man you were marrying standing on the altar. You take a deep breath before marching like a soldier down the aisle decorated with flower petals and large arrangements.
Everyone is standing, staring. But you try to ignore them, focusing on the feeling of your feet landing flat on the ground, the softness of the ribbon holding your bouquet together. The way your heart beat for another man, but was about to be given away to a stranger.
While it seemed like a mile long, you eventually make it to the altar, and you are met with the face of the man you were set to marry. You knew he was probably a good man. He probably had goals for his career, wanted to father a gaggle of children, wanted a wife he could count on and love.
And you knew you couldn’t do that for him.
Mindless words echo out as you repeat the vows from the priest, loveless and cold. You manage to make it through each line, but just as the priest asks, “Princess Y/n, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
I…. the thought reverberates in your head, I, I don’t love this man, I can’t marry him.
“Y/n?” a voice calls to you, and it shakes you out of your head. Your (colored) gaze snaps from the priest, who looks concerned, to the man you are about to marry, around to the gathered congregation. In your heart, you knew you were searching for one person. One man you knew your heart burned for.
You turn back to the priest, withdrawing your hands from your betrothed, and you utter, “I, I can’t do this. My heart belongs to another.” At that, you grab your skirts, rush down the few steps, and run up the aisle, leaving the man at the altar.
The crowd gasps in shock at the scandal playing out in front of them, and you see people reaching for you, grabbing at you as you make your way out of the main hall. You don’t hear your father’s call after you, lost in the destruction your heart created.
“Ackerman, find her!” your father’s voice booms out, but the dark-haired knight is already on the move. The knight immediately takes off, running as he tries to keep your frame in sight. He knew you were strong from all of your training, but evidently, your stamina was still intact despite wearing a heavy gown.
You find yourself running blindly, passing maids, butlers, and gardeners finishing up the last touches of flowers for the reception. Your lungs were burning like the red-hot flames from the forge you passed in desperation. You push past all of them, tears blurring your vision as you run as fast as you can away from everything.
You can hear footsteps following you, but you don’t really care who it is or what they want. “Leave me alone, please!” you wail as you tear through bushes, your eyes closed as you burst into an open garden. Unknowing to you, you ran the entire way to the Josephina Garden where you first encountered a certain dark-haired knight.
Not a moment later, a warm hand closes on your wrist, and you are quickly spun around to face the assailant. You blink through the tears as you make out the figure of Levi, concern written all over his face. Your chest is heaving from your run in the heavy white dress, but Levi seems rather unphased.
He takes a deep breath before stuttering out, “W-why did you say that, Y/n? You know you shouldn’t lie about stuff like that, especially in front of your family and, and the kingdom.” You can see the emotion on his face plain as day, like reading a book that you know word for word.
You could see the way his brow creased, like the gaps between paragraphs when the words seemed to stop flowing. You could see the confusion in his grey, steel eyes, that reminded you of the words you had to reread over and over again just to understand their meaning.
Every feature of his face, you knew, though. Levi was like the dog-eared fold in your favorite book, the paper worn smooth from how many times you flipped it open. He was like your favorite line when the girl finally let the guy take her out on the town on their first date.
Levi was memorizable, you knew every piece about him, and every thought and feeling as he stood in front of you, grasping your arm. Yet he was blind, and couldn’t read the book that he was himself.
“I am in love with someone else!” you shout again, moving to pull your wrist away from the grasp Levi had on it. He doesn’t budge though, holding you firm as you try to pull away from him.
He pulls you closer, his second hand coming up to grasp your shoulder as he barks, “Who?! Who on this goddamn earth would you be in love with?!” Levi pauses, looking deeper into your (colored) eyes before his voice cracks and he murmurs, “I’m your best friend, Y/n, you would have told me if there was someone else you loved.”
You take a deep breath and close your eyes, willing the tears to stop flowing and your heart to stop pounding as loudly as it was. You could feel it rattling your ribcage, attempting to crawl up your throat and make a fool of yourself.
And it betrays you in an instant.
“It’s you!” you exclaim, ripping your arms away from him in a moment of strength, throwing them into the air. The words ring out loudly, the silence that followed them almost deafening. You peek your eyes open as you look up from the ground to meet Levi’s hardened and confused gaze.
“It’s you, Levi,” you whisper as you lock eyes with him. He turns his head in bewilderment, and then he starts shaking it in denial, “No. No, it’s not. It’s not me, Y/n. Don’t joke with me about this.”
You laugh dryly as you throw your hands in the air again and scoff, “I wouldn’t lie or joke about something like this, Levi.” You meet his intense gaze again and gesture to him with a softer, “You know I wouldn’t.”
You can see him swallow thickly, his hands clenching by his sides. You can see the words forming on his lips, and you can just barely hear them when he whispers, “You can’t…” Levi doesn’t say anything after that, so you take the moment to fill in every question you know is racing around his mind.
“It’s… it’s always been you, Levi. It’s been you since the very first training session when you knocked me to the ground,” you start, your right hand coming up to caress your left bicep in shyness. “It’s been you since that night in the forge when you helped me cope with Rico’s death,” you whisper.
You shrug as you smile fondly and state, “It’s been you since you let that little girl dance with you at the festival. It’s been you since you sat on the roof with me, giving me a taste of normalcy.” You sniffle as fresh tears stream down your cheeks, “It’s always been you.”
Levi is mute. Not a sound escapes him as his mouth parts, unsaid words and questions hanging on the tip of his tongue. You don’t say anything, letting him process each and every moment, reliving them as you did in your own mind.
Finally, he speaks, “You’re lying. You can’t possibly love someone like me.” The words are harsh and cut right to your core. Lying? He thinks you’re lying? The look on his face shows that he is completely dumbfounded, flabbergasted, amazed.
Emotion and frustration builds up inside you as he denies you again. And then, you’ve had enough and you can’t handle it anymore.
“Believe me!” you shout, your voice ripping at the heightened volume. You pause as you feel your throat tighten and clench. Then, “Bel-believe me, when I say this to you, Levi,” and you straighten your shoulders to match his stance.
You meet his gaze and then your voice rings out, “Believe me when I say I love you.” A sob wracks your body and then you finish, “Because I do. I do love you, Levi, with my entire being.”
Passion overcomes Levi and he lunges forward, grabbing onto your waist as if you would disappear under his touch. He holds onto you for the first time without ever asking, pulling you close to him as he urges, “Repeat that, please.”
You look deep into his eyes as your hands come up to cup his angled cheekbones and you whisper, “I said I love you.” A smile cracks through Levi’s lips as he watches your lips move and as tears well up in his grey eyes he rushes out, “Again!”
A slight giggle falls from your lips as you repeat, “I love you, Levi.” The dark-haired knight just grips you tighter, pulling you closer and more flush to his chestplate. A moment passes between the two of you, and with Levi looking deep into your (colored) eyes he murmurs, “I love you, Y/n.”
You feel butterflies erupt in your belly, the feeling completely washing over you in mere seconds. Levi moves one hand from your waist to slowly close his palm on your cheek, his head tilting to the side ever so slightly.
“... may I?” his voice comes out so soft you almost miss what he says, but the meaning behind his silver gaze is undeniable. With such an intensity, his eyes flicker from your own (colored) ones to your parted lips, and there is no doubt in your mind.
Not trusting your voice, you nod, leaning into his touch without another thought. His nose bumps yours in a way that could be seen as clumsy and inexperienced, but it’s endearing the way he pauses, allowing himself to enjoy the smallest touches.
He nuzzles you for just a moment before his lips land on yours, soft and warm. He’s slow as his mouth meets yours for the first time. Levi is nothing but gentle as he kisses you, holding you with such a tenderness that it makes your knees weak. You clutch onto him as you let your mouth move against his, enjoying every second of his love.
You can’t bear to open your eyes when you feel him pull away, wanting to savor every fleeting memory of Levi kissing you. When you do allow your eyes to flutter open, you find Levi staring at you, cheeks pink and an embarrassed look on his face.
“Was that not to your liking?” you ask quietly, scared that you had somehow messed up your first kiss with the knight. Levi shakes his head from side to side, and with a small smile, he replies, “No, not at all. I just can’t believe there was something so perfect out there and I never knew it until this moment.”
You feel heat wash over you at his comment, eyes tipped toward the ground. The hand that was caressing your cheek stops your movement, pulling your chin up to face him. Levi’s gaze is so intense it feels like knives are splitting you open and he says, “You are so beautiful, Y/n. I would lay down my life for you if you asked.”
You smile at him and lean into his touch before whispering, “Let us hope it never comes to that, Levi. I don’t think I could live without you.” Levi smiles and murmurs back, “As you wish, princess, as you wish.”
–The End–
Tags: @anlian-aishang @xyumemi @xxdragonwriterxx @starstruckkittensweets @darlingheichou
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