you’re half-asleep, shuffling around your room, and your elbow catches the edge of your shelf.
there’s a soft clack.
then a small, horrible crack.
you freeze.
you don’t even have to look to know what it is.
the little wooden figurine. the one he carved for your birthday — your dragon, down to the crooked ridge on its tail and the tiny notch in its ear. he’d pretended it was “no big deal,” but you’d seen the splinters in his fingers for a week.
you kneel on the floor.
the wing is snapped clean off.
your stomach drops.
and before you can think logically about how it’s 2 a.m. and he’s asleep and this is stupid, you’re already pulling on boots and crossing the village.
you knock on his door way too fast and way too hard.
there’s fumbling inside. a thud. then the door creaks open and there’s hiccup — hair a mess, shirt half-buttoned wrong, eyes squinting.
“…are we under attack?” he mumbles.
you just hold up the broken figurine.
his face shifts immediately. sleep gone. panic flashing. “are you hurt?”
you shake your head, but your voice comes out small. “i broke it.”
he looks at the figurine.
then at you.
then back at the figurine.
“…that’s it?”
your throat tightens. “i know you worked really hard on it. i’m sorry. i wasn’t paying attention and i just— i ruined it.”
for a second you expect disappointment. maybe a sigh. maybe that careful neutral voice he uses when he’s trying not to feel something.
instead, he exhales softly and steps aside so you can come in.
“hey,” he says gently. “hey. it’s wood. it breaks. that’s… kind of wood’s whole thing.”
you follow him inside anyway, still clutching the pieces like you’re holding a body.
he lights a lantern and sits at his work table, patting the stool beside him. you sit.
he takes the broken wing from your hands carefully, fingers brushing yours.
“i can fix this,” he says. “see? clean break. that’s practically ideal breakage.”
you huff a weak laugh through the tight feeling in your chest. “ideal breakage?”
“yeah. structurally convenient tragedy.”
that does make you smile.
he studies your face instead of the figurine.
“…you walked over here in the dark for this.”
“i felt bad.”
“it’s two in the morning.”
“i know.”
he’s quiet for a second.
“you really liked it, didn’t you?”
you nod. “it’s my favorite thing anyone’s ever made me.”
his ears go pink.
“well. then i guess it’s a good thing it belongs to someone worth repairing it for.”
your breath stutters slightly.
he doesn’t seem to notice — or maybe he does, because his voice softens.
“you could’ve waited until morning,” he murmurs.
“i didn’t want you to think i didn’t care.”
he looks at you like that — that open, vulnerable way he does when he forgets to guard himself.
“you care about everything,” he says quietly. “sometimes too much.”
“i care about you,” you blurt.
the words hang there.
too honest. too exposed.
his fingers still on the figurine freeze.
“…yeah?” he asks, almost careful.
“yeah.”
you don’t know when you started leaning closer, but suddenly you’re very aware of how close you are. the lantern light is warm against his face. there’s a faint line of sawdust on his collarbone. you can hear his breathing.
he sets the figurine down slowly.
“you know,” he says, voice lower now, “if you wake me up in the middle of the night, you’re allowed to do it for worse reasons than this.”
your pulse jumps. “worse reasons?”
he swallows.
“like if you’re scared. or lonely. or—” he hesitates, then lets out a soft, nervous laugh. “or if you just wanted to see me.”
your heart absolutely betrays you.
“i did want to see you,” you admit.
that’s it.
that’s the moment it shifts.
his hand finds yours on the table, tentative at first. you don’t pull away. instead, you lace your fingers with his.
he exhales like he’s been holding his breath for months.
“you’re not in trouble,” he whispers. “you could break a hundred of these and i’d just make more.”
you lean in without thinking.
your forehead touches his.
his thumb strokes lightly over your knuckles.
“don’t make a hundred,” you whisper. “just...”
his breath ghosts over your lips.
“just what?...”
the wing of the dragon sits forgotten on the table as his other hand slides gently to your waist — hesitant, asking.
you answer by closing the distance.
and somewhere between the kiss and the way he smiles against your mouth like he can’t believe this is happening, the broken figurine becomes the best accident that ever happened to either of you.
Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.
Part 11 | Fic Masterlist | Part 13
Prince Yeosang.
The fourth son born to the King and Queen of Joseon, was among the most widely recognised princes in the nation, though not for reasons one might consider positive. Unlike his numerous brothers and sisters, he adamantly resisted marriage despite reaching a suitable age.
But of course, his singledom was not the main reason for the constant chatter about him. The real cause for the heightened attention was the prominent birthmark beside his left eye.
In Joseon, beauty held immense significance, particularly for members of the royal family, who were deemed superior and held to higher standards than the commoners. Consequently, the prince's distinctive mark marked him as an anomaly within the royal lineage.
Throughout his life, Yeosang had been accustomed to the constant scrutiny that came with being perceived as a defect. From what he understood, even his own parents had reacted with alarm upon witnessing the sizable red birthmark on the side of his face when he was born. In reality, the mark didn't diminish his attractiveness, but societal taboos surrounding such markings led people to overlook his overall appeal and fixate solely on the spot.
As a result, he rejected all marriage proposals, having observed the disdainful glances directed at him by potential candidates. The thought of being wedded to someone who did not genuinely appreciate him was unappealing. Besides, he loathed the constant parade of pampered girls presented to him annually.
He would prefer to remain alone for the rest of his life than be tied down to any of those brats. Having always believed that no one could ever empathise with the pain of having such a mark on their face, he was more than astonished to discover you proudly displaying your scar. What's more, you stood in stark contrast to any of the snobbish noblewomen he had met.
It was when he was evading his many princely obligations meant to prepare him for the throne, despite being fourth in line, that he unexpectedly came across you, the beautiful stranger, while seeking a brief escape in the garden. For the first time in a long while, his heart quickened as he approached you, fearing he might lose sight of your enchanting presence.
"Allow me to express our deepest respect, Your Highness. This is Lady Park, the esteemed wife of General Park. Mistress, may I present to you Prince Yeosang." As if sensing his intentions, the servant standing beside you quickly clarified your identity.
However, if she thought this revelation would dissuade the fourth prince, she was sorely mistaken as Yeosang only smiled wider. So, you were the famous Miss Jang, currently the talk of the town. Knowing that you were here only to discuss wedding arrangements, he deduced that you and the general were not yet properly wedded.
That meant not all hope was lost for him.
Your eyes widened at Eunsook's words, the realisation sinking in that you were in the presence of a prince. Without wasting another second, you performed the formal bow you had practised countless times with the head maid before visiting the palace. Greeting the prince respectfully, you maintained the poise and grace befitting your status as the general's wife, "It is my greatest honour to be in your presence, Your Highness. Forgive this humble subject for failing to recognise you."
Up close, Yeosang's admiration for you only intensified. The genuine respect you demonstrated meant more to him than you would ever know. The prince had rarely been shown sincerity, and he knew then that he was right about your purity. Unlike any other noblewoman, you didn't eye him with even the slightest hint of disgust.
She's the one.
"Please rise, Miss Jang. It is quite alright; no harm is done. If anything, it feels very refreshing not to be recognised in an instant." He extended a hand to assist you, gently lifting you from your bow. Your eyes widened in wonder, and you offered him a grateful smile, not recalling Eunsook mentioning this part of the greeting.
Meanwhile, the head maid was in a state of panic, realising that the prince seemed interested in you. He had disregarded your title as Lady Park and had taken the opportunity to be close to you. Seonghwa would not be pleased if he found out.
"I'll be honest, I have yet to meet anyone who adores flowers as much as I do. It's almost as if fate brought us together." Yeosang said, chuckling as he took in your eyes sparkling with sincere enthusiasm. You seemed innocently happy just to make a new friend.
How precious.
"Would you care to take a stroll with me, my lady? I know of a perfect spot with a view that surpasses even this one."
Eunsook's stomach sank as you agreed to his invitation. It wasn't that she blamed you for being unfaithful to her master; she knew you were simply too clueless to see through the prince's intentions. Her concern was for the potential aftermath of the situation – what would happen if the general were to learn about Yeosang's interest in you and your willingness to spend time with him.
In another part of the palace at the War and Strategy Department building, the atmosphere was the furthest thing from peaceful as the words spoken by His Majesty weighed heavily on your husband's heart, "I'm so sorry, my boy. It seems your wedding will have to wait. Relations with the neighbouring nation, Ruhon, have not been very good lately. I fear war is inevitable this time, and... we need you."
Seonghwa sank into one of the chairs, his eyes blinking rapidly as he absorbed the weight of the words just spoken, "War...? H-how serious is the situation? And why haven't I been informed about the strained relations with Ruhon?"
San, taking a seat beside him, sighed and responded, "We've been attempting peace negotiations with them for months, but an agreement seems elusive. They've been making unreasonable demands. We didn't want to burden you with any of this at first, we wanted you to focus on your new marriage. But the situation has escalated, and it appears we're left with no choice but to prepare for the worst."
The King continued with a heavy heart, "Unfortunately, despite our efforts, we haven't been able to reach an agreement with Ruhon regarding their latest demands. They are now threatening to settle matters through force. We must start preparing and strategising immediately; their attack could come at any time."
The implications of the impending conflict raced through your husband's mind, the weight of responsibility pressing down on him. The realisation that he would have to lead the army into battle overshadowed the joy of his recent marriage. Just when he thought things were finally looking up for the two of you, the looming threat of war cast a dark shadow over your lives.
He pressed a hand against his head, eyes shut tight, muttering, "I could be gone for months or even years..."
"I'm sorry, Seonghwa-yah. I know this is not what you expected, especially right after your marriage. I wish we didn't have to ruin your plans like this." The King apologised with a solemn expression.
With a shake of his head, the general replied, "No, Your Majesty, I understand the gravity of the situation. My duty lies in protecting this nation. I promise I won't let anything jeopardise its safety, even if it means altering my personal plans."
Nodding, the ruler pursed his lips appreciatively, "We thank you for your dedication, General Park. We'll need you to lead our forces and devise a strategy to repel the impending threat from Ruhon."
"I'll do everything in my power to safeguard our country, my King. You have my word." Seonghwa knew that safeguarding his nation also meant keeping his own wife safe. As much as he hated it, there was no time to dwell on the disappointment of the changed plans; he needed to get to work immediately.
Transitioning into his professional demeanour, he interlocked his hands as he met the gaze of the ruler of Joseon, "When is my deployment to the war zone scheduled?"
His Majesty sighed deeply before answering him, "You have a few days to spend with your wife; the troops are still establishing the base as we speak. You can head over when it's ready. General Officer Song has also been notified and will be there to start strategising in detail with you by then."
Following the finalisation of the main details, the meeting came to a close. As the general prepared to leave, the King stopped him once more. Before he could offer yet another apology, Seonghwa intervened, "You don't owe me any apology, Your Majesty. None of this is your fault; you've done your best to protect your people. Now it's my turn to perform my duty. I... I only have one thing to ask of you while I'm gone..."
The ruler nodded, aware of the request that would follow, "I ask that you watch over my wife for me and make sure she's well protected until my return," His Majesty agreed, a hand squeezing your husband's shoulder, "Of course, my boy. You don't even have to ask."
As your husband headed towards the cherry blossom garden to find you, the unexpected sight of you with the fourth prince caught him off guard. Suppressing a sigh, he shook his head, preventing another wave of irrational jealousy from taking over. He reminded himself that, as San had assured him, you were his. Perhaps, he reasoned, you were simply making new friends.
Moreover, he recalled Prince Yeosang's firm stance on not settling down. Seonghwa reassured himself that there should be nothing more to this than platonic bonding.
Catching sight of her master approaching, Eunsook's panic began to seize her. Mentally preparing herself for the incoming wrath, she knew he wouldn't be pleased to see you spending time with another man. Turning back to you, she hoped to catch your attention, intending to warn you of his presence. However, you were too engrossed in your conversation with the prince, discussing your favourite flowers.
"I think my favourite might be the lotus flower, but that's probably because my husband has dedicated an entire pond full of it to me." The general's heart swelled with affection at your words, confirming that his trust in you was well-placed.
That's my girl.
Before the prince could respond and tell you that he could give you so much more, Seonghwa had finally arrived behind you.
"You're here, master," The head maid greeted, but he waved her off and bowed at Yeosang, "Yes, I'm here now. Thank you for keeping my wife company while I was busy, Your Highness. If there is nothing else, we will be taking our leave now."
Brightening up at your husband's presence, you stepped over to him, and he instinctively circled an arm around your back. Despite the enjoyable time with your new friend, the instant comfort of being with Seonghwa made you feel at home again. The fourth prince's eye twitched at the interaction, but he did his best to maintain a smile on his handsome face.
The elderly woman was genuinely surprised; she blinked as she tried to comprehend her master's calm demeanour. It was unexpected, especially considering how unhappy he had been when you were around Yunho and San. But she found relief in not witnessing him explode or resort to his usual passive-aggressive self.
"Ahh yes, General Park, off to make arrangements for your upcoming wedding ceremony, I presume?" The prince's tone carried a hint of smugness, almost as if he were privy to some knowledge.
Your husband's expression dimmed at the reminder; there would be no wedding plans for some time. Mustering a cordial smile, he bowed lightly, "Something along those lines, Your Highness." He had no intention of breaking the news to you in this manner, and he certainly didn't feel obligated to provide Yeosang with any explanations, so a little fabrication wouldn't hurt.
As if on cue, a few palace servants finally caught up to the prince, out of breath, "There you are, Your Highness! Please don't make our jobs any more difficult than they already are. Will you return to the library with us? The royal tutor is still waiting for you." Yeosang sighed and reluctantly turned to bid you goodbye.
"Very well then. It was nice talking to you, Miss Jang. I hope to see you again. And you, General Park." You and Seonghwa bowed politely as he left the garden with the poor servants trailing miserably behind.
The general did his best to brush aside the prince's borderline irritating behaviour, particularly the way he insisted on addressing you as Miss Jang despite your change in marital status. In the grand scheme of things, such trivialities held no importance now. Chances were slim that you would ever meet Prince Yeosang again, given the impending war and the duties that awaited your husband.
With a deep breath, he focused on the immediate task at hand – spending precious moments with you before he had to leave for the war. Gently tucking a strand of stray hair behind your ear, he offered a warm smile, "Come, my love. Let's make our way home."
Furrowing your brows in confusion, you questioned, "We're heading home already? Aren't we supposed to meet His and Her Majesty?" The head maid shared your astonishment; she was equally puzzled.
Seonghwa let out a small sigh and nodded, "Yes, there's been a change of plans. I'll explain on our way home."
As you walked back to the waiting carriage, your husband's mind raced with thoughts of how to break the news to you. You had only just overcome a traumatising ordeal and were finally getting your happily ever after. The daunting task of telling you that he would have to leave for war for an indefinite amount of time loomed over him. He wondered about your possible reactions and couldn't shake the uncertainty of whether he would return.
Despite being the great General Park, he couldn't escape the reality that, at the end of the day, he was still human.
Settling down into the vehicle, you noticed your husband staring anxiously out the window, lost in thought. Placing a hand over his, you softly called out, "Seonghwa," When he turned to meet your concerned gaze, you inquired, "What is it? What was the emergency meeting about?" He grasped your hands, squeezing them, as he prepared himself to share the news with you.
"I... I'm so sorry, my love, but our wedding ceremony will have to be postponed... indefinitely," As disappointing as that was, you wanted to know the actual reason, so you nodded and waited for him to continue, "That's because... there is an incoming war."
He didn't need to elaborate for you to grasp the situation immediately. Naturally, it meant he would have to go and fight. As the most promising general in all of Joseon, the King's most trusted warrior, if it wasn't him going off to fight, then who else? Your heart clenched uncomfortably at the revelation, but you understood it was only part of his job, so you smiled reassuringly at him, "Oh... I-I understand, Seonghwa. Wh-when are you leaving then?"
Raising his brows in surprise, it took him a minute to react, "W-wait, are you not upset with any of this? I will be leaving you, and it could be for months or even years... and you're okay with it?"
You sighed shakily, the smile now dropping.
"Of course, I'm not okay with it... If only it were possible, I would like to keep you all to myself, but it's your job to defend the nation. You're General Park, and I'm so proud of you for that. You've won so many battles; I'm certain this will be another easy victory for you. As your wife, I will do my duty to safeguard our home until your return."
Just as he believed his love for you couldn't deepen further, your words proved him wrong. He felt incredibly fortunate to have such an understanding wife. He should have known better; he didn't know why he expected you to throw a tantrum. Without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close and pushing your head into the crook of his neck, "You're right; I'm an idiot. I hope you know you're not making it any easier for me to leave you."
Despite the tears welling up in your eyes, you chuckled, trying to maintain a positive outlook amid the looming dread. Inside, you were trembling, and letting him go was the last thing you wanted. Yet, you had to face your reality, "You haven't answered me, Seonghwa. When are you leaving?"
He squeezed his eyes shut, tightening his hold around you before whispering, "In a few days, my love. A few days."
« Preview of Part 13 »
"Your Majesty, the fourth prince requests an audience with you." The Queen arched an eyebrow, surprised that her most rebellious son would willingly seek to meet her. She had anticipated him doing everything in his power to avoid her due to her constant nagging for him to settle down.
"Hm, does he now? Allow him to enter."
With a deep bow, the eunuch complied, "Yes, Your Majesty, as you wish," before exiting the Queen's chambers to fetch her son.
"The fourth prince, Your Majesty," Yeosang made a grand entrance with a half-hearted bow and greeting, "It's been a while, Mother."
Her Majesty snorted in disbelief, but it no longer surprised her. He had always been the most disobedient among all of her children. She tried to be understanding, acknowledging that his life hadn't been as easy as his other siblings due to the birthmark on his face. This understanding explained her leniency with his attitude.
"What a surprise, Yeosang. To what do I owe the pleasure, my son? If this is regarding more funds or approval for another one of your expeditions out of the palace, you can forget it. I don't want to hear it unless you're telling me you wish to get married—"
With a smirk, the prince crossed his arms over his chest, "That's exactly what I am here for, Mother. I came to tell you I have changed my mind and would agree to get married, on one condition."
The Queen immediately straightened in her seat, wondering if she had heard him wrong, "Y-you're willing to get married?" He nodded, and she widened her eyes, "Name it; what is your condition?"
"It has to be the eldest Miss Jang promised to General Park Seonghwa. It's her or nothing, Mother."
Y'all, my new and final semester of uni starts next week. Here's a heads-up; updates are probably not going to be as frequent, but I will do my best! Also, I apologise if this part felt like a filler chapter HAHA gotta let the drama build up slowly.
As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3
Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.
Part 10 | Fic Masterlist | Part 12
Hearing the cessation of all the screams, one of the royal guards gathered the courage to enter the chamber and check on Seonghwa, "Sir, are you done?"
Upon entering, he had yet to witness the state in which the former minister was left. The general stood before his victim, actively wiping all the blood off his hands with a towel prepared beforehand, "It's done. Has my assistant arrived to pick me up?"
"Yes, sir. Assistant Choi is waiting with your carriage by the entrance. If I remember correctly, he mentioned Lady Park helped prepare dinner today." A smile instantly graced your husband's face at the mere mention of you.
"Thank you, soldier. Bring in the rest and clean up the mess," He instructed, finally stepping away from the seat in the middle of the room, revealing the sight of your father slumped in the chair, both of his arms missing, blood gushing out from his shoulders, "Get him to a physician before banishing him. No need to treat him extensively; heal him just enough to keep him alive."
Freezing, the guard nodded quickly, "Y-yes, sir! We will not let you down!" His round eyes fixated on the two mutilated limbs on the ground in the middle of the puddle of crimson liquid.
The general was truly not someone to be underestimated, that was evident to the royal guards who filed in later on to clean up the bloody mess. They now understood why Seonghwa was so feared among those who had worked with him or witnessed his cold-blooded nature firsthand.
However, rather than instilling pure terror, your husband garnered more respect from them. He had gone to great lengths just to avenge his beloved wife. This demonstrated that the man still possessed a heart after all and that his affection for Lady Park was undeniable. He has proven that he could love just as fiercely as he hated.
Not a single member of the palace staff harboured even a hint of pity for the former Minister of Military Affairs as they dealt with his mangled body according to instructions. Any citizen with access to news was aware of all the cruel acts the old man had committed against his own daughter and first wife. It was safe to say that witnessing him in this state brought ample satisfaction not only to the general but to others as well.
"Sir, there's a bit of blood here."
The assistant extended his handkerchief, ensuring his master was free from any signs of bloodshed as they returned home. The last thing they all needed was for you to catch on to any of the events that occurred today; you should only focus on happiness and never spare another thought for your so-called family from now onwards.
"Thank you, Jongho," The general responded, taking the piece of fabric to remove the small bloodstain on his neck, "Keep me posted on where they banished that clown afterwards. It would be nice to check in on him once in a while, for entertainment purposes."
"Yes, sir."
Upon entering the estate, he was surprised not to find you waiting for him by the entrance, as was your usual routine when he returned from work. Only the head maid and a few servants stood there, ready to greet him, "Welcome home, master. We hope you had a good day at work." They said with a deep bow.
Seonghwa frowned, "Where's the mistress?" The elderly woman replied, "Mistress is currently at the main hall having a chat with Royal Secretary Choi while they were awaiting your return."
That immediately had the general rushing towards the hall. He didn't like the thought of you alone with... yet another handsome man. He had finally grown accustomed to having Yunho around the estate whenever he was at work, only because the two of you rarely interacted; he knew that thanks to daily reports from Eunsook. Now, jealousy was flooding his veins again.
What if you found San more attractive?
"Yes, I fully understand your concern. My sister faces similar issues," The royal secretary's voice carried from outside the hall, and then your softer response followed, "Thank you so much for your help, San. It means a lot to me."
They're already on a first-name basis?
"Help? With what?" He queried, abruptly pulling you and the secretary from your conversation. Both of you looked up at him, and you blinked and stammered nervously, quickly rising from your seat, "Oh, Seonghwa! You're home! It's nothing, we were just having a casual conversation while waiting for you."
Sensing your unease, San chuckled and concurred, "Yes, it was nothing important. It's good that you're back; I've come to deliver the minutes of today's assembly to you, as per His Majesty's orders."
"Please don't let me interrupt; I'll be waiting for you at the dining hall," You remarked to your husband, offering a nod of gratitude to the secretary, "It was nice talking to you, Royal Secretary Choi," The man respectfully bowed his head, "And you, Lady Park."
The general watched the interaction between you two with unmistakable envy, causing San to suppress a snicker into his fist, "Without further ado, general, let's proceed so that you can join your wife for dinner as soon as possible," Seonghwa nodded, feigning nonchalance, "Of course."
As the secretary continued to share the main details discussed during the assembly, he noticed the general's slight distraction. Wrapping up the debrief, he decided to ease your husband's thoughts by divulging the nature of your earlier conversation.
"Listen, before you came back, Lady Park and I were just talking about her concerns regarding being a better wife. Given that my elder sister, who is married, shares similar worries, I was merely offering some insights that might be helpful. So, don't stress over it too much, okay? I assure you, you're the only one on her mind."
Learning that you were only seeking to improve yourself for him, Seonghwa's heart melted immediately. Regret washed over him for entertaining the notion that you might find his colleague more appealing, and a slight embarrassment crept in, "I, uhh... it's not like I was worried about that or anything... but thank you, San. If that's all for today, Jongho will escort you out."
The secretary held back his knowing smile as they bid each other farewell before the general made his way to the dining hall. His heart pounded with excitement at the thought of being with you again.
Dinner went by as usual, though this time, you were brimming with enthusiasm as you shared how you spent the day learning to prepare his favourite dishes from the kitchen staff. You even mentioned the surprising discovery that you might have developed a love for cooking. He ate more than usual, savouring the fact that the meal was made just for him, and found it difficult to take his eyes off of you throughout the night.
He had once considered happiness to be a frivolous notion, something only fools wished for. He never anticipated being the one to experience it. Now that he had, your husband was determined not to lose this newfound feeling.
With your family matters now resolved, the only thing remaining was to give you the grand wedding you truly deserved. From then on, the plan was to enjoy a lifetime of this happiness together. Watching you munching away with joy, he couldn't resist reaching over to affectionately wipe the corner of your lips. At that moment, he realised that this was all he needed.
After the meal, he walked you back to the House of Lotus, hand in hand as usual. Upon reaching the entrance, you smiled up at him, "Have a good night, Seonghwa."
However, before you could turn and leave, he swiftly cupped your face, "Wait, before you go..." Your heart quickened as he leaned in, whispering, "Just one kiss, my love."
Almost instinctively, your eyes fluttered closed as soon as his lips met yours in a tender kiss. The warmth spread through your insides as he wrapped his arms around your frame, pulling you closer and deepening the kiss by angling his head.
Feeling the sensation of his lips pressing against yours, again and again, you finally understood why couples enjoyed kissing. It was hard to put into words, but being so close to him felt pleasant, and your husband had a unique way of making you feel beautiful with his touches, even when you doubted it yourself. There was an almost addictive quality to it, making you feel like the luckiest woman in the world to be desired by the great General Park.
Perhaps I've found it... my happiness.
After breaking the kiss for a breath, he leaned his forehead against yours, a smile adorning his face as he looked down at you lovingly. In silence, the two of you remained in each other's arms, basking in the moment, reluctant to part.
Unfortunately, the moment was cut short as your assigned group of servants approached, "Oh, pardon us for the intrusion, master and mistress! We came to assist in preparing the mistress for bed. May we proceed, master? Or, if you wish to stay with the mistress, we could also make arrangements for both of you for the night in the House of Lotus."
His heart raced as he witnessed the faint blush on your cheeks in response to the maid's suggestion. Chuckling, he gently shook his head and placed a kiss on your forehead, "No, the mistress needs her rest. Perhaps another time. Go on ahead then; she will join you soon."
"Yes, master, as you wish."
The servants entered your quarters to prepare your bath while you exchanged your goodnight. Caressing your cheeks with his thumbs, he couldn't resist leaning in for a final, lingering kiss on your soft lips, "Goodnight, my love. I'll see you tomorrow."
As you made your way to your room, he felt a swell of affection watching you turn for one last wave before disappearing inside. He missed you already, and as much as he would have loved to hold you close all night, he knew that waiting until your proper wedding night to share the same bed was the right decision. For now, this was more than enough. After all, he had the rest of his life to spend with you.
"Thank goodness the ointment has been remarkably effective. I don't think you need to harbour any insecurities about your appearance anymore. Lady Park, you look beautiful." said Physician Jung as he arrived to assess the condition of your skin. Having you apply the medicine he prepared for some time, he recognised that his work here would soon be done.
Eunsook couldn't contain the grin on her face at the slight pink dusting your cheeks from the doctor's compliment, suddenly relieved that her master was not around. Lord knows how unamused he would have been to hear any of that or see your reaction.
"Yes, thank you, Yunho. She's always been ravishing with or without your ointment. I think your job here is done; it's my turn to enhance this beauty. Head over to the general's study for your pay if that's all," The doctor couldn't resist rolling his eyes at the dressmaker's dramatic entrance, "It's nice to see you too, Hongjoong."
With a dismissive wave, he shrugged off the sarcastic greeting from his tall friend, saying, "I'll catch up with you soon; I have work to do." Left with no other choice, Yunho offered one final bow to you before leaving your room with a maid escorting him out.
Closing the distance between you, the dressmaker swiftly retrieved the new hanbok he had made specifically for the special occasion today, declaring, "Now, who is ready to outshine all the princesses in the palace? It's you, Lady Park!"
"Outshine the princesses? I d-don't think that's a good idea—"
He interrupted you before you could finish your protest, "Nonsense! I promised General Park to make you the most beautiful woman in all of Joseon." With a small giggle, you sighed in defeat and allowed him to work his magic with the assistance of the head maid as they coordinated your appearance for your visit to the palace.
Today marked the day you and Seonghwa were meeting the King and Queen to discuss the details of your wedding ceremony in-depth, as well as allowing the royal couple to finally meet you after having heard so much about you. Even without having seen you, they already adored you from the stories your husband had shared. Not to mention, their hearts ached, especially after learning about your nightmarish childhood.
Seated at the vanity table, you gazed at your reflection in amazement as Eunsook worked on your hair and makeup, with Hongjoong providing expert advice and guidance. Just as the elderly woman was about to conceal the remaining faint scars on your face as she had always done, the dressmaker intervened, "No, wait. Leave the one on her forehead as it is; I have an idea."
With his extensive knowledge of fashion and beauty, he had always been intrigued by the Chinese makeup style, which incorporated temporary tattoos. Specifically, he was drawn to the idea of a small flower design painted onto women's foreheads.
Rather than covering your marks, he opted to transform them into an accessory that would improve your overall looks. With this distinctive look, you were bound to capture attention from all directions, not that your beauty didn't already achieve that. Now, you would stand out wherever you went, even within the palace grounds where princesses and royal concubines were always impeccably dressed.
Waiting by the entrance, Seonghwa turned when he recognised the sound of your dainty footsteps approaching. He didn't miss his assistant's awestruck expression, taking in your appearance from behind him, "Finally, Hongjoong's taken way too long..."
As you stepped into full view, his words trailed off, and his gaze fixed on you with a mix of astonishment and sheer admiration. His breath caught in his throat, and for a moment, he couldn't find the words to express what he felt. You had always been beautiful in his eyes, but his friend had truly outdone himself this time.
The most significant difference that caught the general's attention was the little red flower on your forehead, right between your eyes. That delicate design elegantly covered one of the scars you bore from your past. It was a stroke of genius from the dressmaker, turning a mark of pain into a unique and striking accessory that enhanced your natural beauty.
Your husband approached you, his eyes never leaving yours. Finally finding his voice, he whispered, "You look breathtaking, my love," before gently reaching up to trace the edge of the flower on your forehead, his touch soft and filled with so much love, "Hongjoong, you've done wonders."
The dressmaker grinned proudly and nodded in agreement, "I know, I always do."
Throughout the journey to the palace, the general found it hard to divert his gaze from you, just as you were captivated by the passing scenery outside. The roads to the palace differed from the usual routes leading to town, explaining your intrigue. As he admired your beautiful face, an unexpected desire surged within him to take you back home and shield you from others' eyes. A sudden uncertainty about wanting anyone else to see you overcame him. A selfish impulse urged him to keep you all to himself.
Before he could entertain the impulsive idea of turning the carriage around, Jongho had already announced their arrival. This time, Eunsook didn't bother to stand by and assist you down, instead waiting expectantly as the general smoothly helped you in one swift movement, determined to keep you close.
Having been here more than enough, Seonghwa knew this place might appear beautiful on the inside but could be very dangerous at the same time. People here might seem nice but rarely could be trusted, particularly the women. Well aware of this, he hesitated to let you wander off alone, despite your status as his wife. You were easily recognisable as Lady Park from a distance, anyone would have to be insane to dare mess with you.
Even so, he had no intention of leaving your side for even a moment. Palace servants passing by bowed deeply at both of you, and you did your best to maintain the poise of a noblewoman as practised with the head maid. The last thing you wanted was to make your husband look bad in here.
As you both approached the hall for the meeting with His and Her Majesty, the royal secretary rushed out to intercept the two of you. Almost as if your husband had jinxed it, San exclaimed, "There you are, General Park! We have a bit of a situation right now. Your immediate presence is required at an emergency meeting."
"But my wife—"
Finally realising you were present, the secretary bowed, "Oh, right, Lady Park! We're all aware you're here to discuss your wedding arrangements, but this really cannot wait. Even His Majesty is currently in this meeting expecting you. Would it be alright if we have your wife waiting by the cherry blossom garden? We'll have the servants prepare her some refreshments."
As much as Seonghwa detested the sudden change of plans, he acknowledged that he was left with no choice upon sensing the urgency in San's demeanour. With a nod of defeat, he agreed, "Okay, fine. Eunsook, please stay by the mistress' side at all times."
She nodded with a bow, "Of course, master."
Turning to you with a regretful frown etched on his brows, he said, "I'm sorry for having to leave you alone, my love. I'll come back to you as quickly as I can, I promise."
You shook your head with an understanding smile, "Don't worry about me, Seonghwa. I'll be fine. Your work is more important. Now hurry and go. Don't make His Majesty wait." Sighing lightly, he pecked you on the head before rushing off with the royal secretary.
"Lady Park, please come with us. We will guide you to the cherry blossom garden."
A team of palace maids appeared before you, showing you as much respect as they would towards royalty. Your status and reputation were well-known nationwide; you were favoured not only by your husband but also by the King and Queen themselves. No one would dare to disrespect you for fear of dire consequences.
Their dedication was evident in the top-tier hospitality as they led you to the enchanting garden, unlike anything you had ever seen. After thanking them politely, they prepared a seat for you in one of the pavilions within the vast garden, serving a tray of tea and some sophisticated-looking snacks.
Boredom eventually set in, and you glanced at one of the palace maids standing ready by the pavilion for any orders you might have for her, "Excuse me, would it be okay for me to take a walk around the garden?"
"Oh, certainly, Lady Park! Feel free to explore the garden as you please. Would you like any of us to accompany you?" Smiling and glancing at Eunsook, you declined, "No, thank you. We'll manage on our own. We won't be gone too long; you have my word."
"Thank you, Lady Park. Your assurance is appreciated; we'll await your return here." They bowed deeply as you and the head maid began your leisurely stroll.
As you wandered through the picturesque garden, marvelling at the vibrant colours of the flowers, you inadvertently caught the eye of a stranger who happened to be nearby. Your beauty, accentuated by the mark on your forehead, captivated the attention of this mysterious figure. What intrigued him even more was the unmistakable childlike innocence reflected in your eyes.
From a distance, he observed you with awe. The way you carried yourself, the genuine delight on your face as you admired the flowers and scenery—it all conveyed a sense of authenticity. Unlike anyone he had encountered, you seemed untouched by pretentiousness or spoiled airs.
Driven by an unexplainable urge to get closer, the stranger slowly made his way towards you, navigating through the enchanting garden. His curiosity was piqued, and he couldn't resist the desire to learn more about the intriguing woman who had captured his attention.
Unaware of the approaching figure as you immersed yourself in the beauty of the flowers, a clearing of the throat behind you signalled his presence. Eunsook, recognising the newcomer, widened her eyes and began to bow, but he gestured for her to remain silent with a finger against his lips and a subtle shake of his head.
Interrupting the tranquillity, the unexpected deep voice spoke, "It's beautiful, isn't it? Do you know what cherry blossoms symbolise?"
Startled, you turned to find a handsome man dressed elegantly, smiling down at you. After a moment of surprise, you nodded, "I do. I've read that they symbolise purity and beauty."
The man acknowledged, "That's right, much like you, my lady."
Concern flickered in the head maid's eyes, realising that the stranger might be unaware of your identity and possibly attempting to make a romantic gesture. Before matters could escalate, she decided to intervene, "Allow me to express our deepest respect, Your Highness. This is Lady Park, the esteemed wife of General Park. Mistress, may I present to you Prince Yeosang."
« Preview of Part 12 »
Seonghwa's eyes widened as they approached the War and Strategy Department building, where soldiers were marching about hastily, "Wait a minute, don't tell me—"
The royal secretary had no time to explain as he pulled the general into the meeting room where all military officials were seated and awaiting anxiously. The King, positioned in the middle of the room, sighed deeply upon noticing your husband's arrival.
"You're here, General Park. Is your wife also in the palace?" His Majesty asked, rubbing his head to alleviate an oncoming headache.
Seonghwa nodded in confirmation and inquired, "Yes, she is. She's waiting by the cherry blossom garden as we speak. Now, tell me. What is it? What has happened?"
With regret in his eyes, the King grimaced, "I'm so sorry, my boy. It seems your wedding will have to wait. Relations with the neighbouring nation, Ruhon, have not been very good lately. I fear war is inevitable this time, and... we need you."
Just wanted to make it clear that Ruhon is a fictional country. I've thought about it and decided it's probably best not to use real places for fear of offending anyone.
As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3
Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.
Part 7 | Fic Masterlist | Part 9
"Sir, the dressmaker has arrived with the mistress' first batch of clothes. Should I send him directly to the House of Lotus?" Jongho asked tentatively from the entrance of his master's study.
Removing his hands from his head, Seonghwa looked up and shook his head miserably, "Lord, no. Send him to me first," The assistant bowed and went to do as he was told, "Right away, sir."
Hongjoong entered the study without bothering to knock, hands propped on his hip as he stared at your husband, unamused, "Would you mind explaining why I'm here instead of presenting the new clothes to your wife, Park Seonghwa?"
"I need advice, Hongjoong." The general croaked, feeling quite lost for once. He had rarely ever been in such a situation; who knew all it took was one woman to put him in such misery. Not even the most vicious enemies he had fought in war could have ever fazed him this much.
He returned from work the day before, enthusiastically sharing his plans for the grand wedding he wanted to give you. However, things went south when he dropped the bomb about the visit to your old home, foolishly believing you would express joy at the prospect of flaunting your newfound happiness to your wicked family. Instead, you were gripped with fear at the idea. You ended up retiring to your quarters early and refused to come out ever since.
Goddamnit, I'm the biggest moron ever.
The dressmaker raised an amused brow, having never seen Seonghwa like this before. He went over to sit down across from his friend, "Hmm, I didn't think you'd be having trouble in paradise this soon. Let's hear it; we'll see if there's anything I can do for you and that lovely wife of yours."
Taking a deep breath, your husband started from the beginning, recounting every single thing that happened from the start of your arranged marriage until the present.
"Wait, you're taking her back to that wretched place? No wonder she's upset, you idiot! You said it yourself; she suffered so badly being caged in there all her life. I mean, sure, your cause is very noble—wanting to make her family pay for what they've done with this plan of yours. But you'd been so focused on that, you forgot how traumatising it could be for her, huh? You really didn't think that one through, my friend."
Letting out a groan, the general pulled at his hair, "Yes, thank you for repeating it all to me like I didn't already know what I did wrong. Now, tell me what exactly it is that I can do to make it all better."
"You're welcome. Oh, I'll tell you what to do, all right. You best keep your dumbass seated here while I talk to her," instructed Hongjoong, watching expectantly as your husband frowned, "What? Why should you talk to her? It's my mess; I should be the one to clean it up."
Sighing, the dressmaker explained, "Look, we all know the only way for you to make things better is to not take her back to the damn house at all. But you do have a point, okay? You've come this far with your plan, and as much as it sucks, she must go there with you in order for this to work out. So, you stay put, and let me convince her to go willingly with you, got it?"
Seonghwa nodded reluctantly, realising his friend was right. As much as he hated how charming Hongjoong was and how persuasive he could be, he would have to rely on those skills to help you see things in the bigger picture. Sure, you were not privy to any details about the revenge, but hopefully, he will be able to make you at least want to stand up to your family for once.
"Lady Park, it's Hongjoong. I've brought your first batch of clothing. May I have permission to enter?" Blinking in surprise, you straightened up, not expecting to hear the dressmaker's voice, "O-okay, please come in."
Despite the anxious state you'd been in since the revelation your husband had dropped upon you the night before, you couldn't help but smile at the unusually colourful outfit of your visitor. Eunsook followed behind him with a group of servants filing in to deliver the precious cargo into your quarters.
The head maid felt relieved to see you smiling again, even if it was only a little. She had been concerned about you after witnessing your retreat into your old shell the previous night, as the fear you demonstrated reminded everyone of your initial arrival.
In an effort to distract you from your upsetting thoughts, the dressmaker quickly pulled out a few designs he thought you'd love, "Come, take a look at this! I made it the way you preferred and added a little touch of my magic. What do you think?"
Fortunately, his strategy worked like a charm, and you immediately moved over to him with sparkly eyes, marvelling at some of the most beautiful hanboks you'd ever seen, even prettier than the ones he had displayed in his shop.
As you admired the clothes in front of you, Hongjoong exchanged a knowing look with the elderly woman. Nodding, she quietly exited your room along with the rest of the servants, leaving you alone with your husband's old friend.
But you weren't entirely alone, of course.
Unbeknownst to you, Seonghwa was right outside, listening intently. He didn't spare any of his servants a glance as they all passed by him with a deep bow, waving his hand carelessly in a gesture to ask them to leave quickly.
"Hey, you haven't answered me. Do you like them, Lady Park?" The dressmaker asked, a teasing smile on his face as he found your endearing shyness adorable.
You nodded quickly, "Yes, I do. I love them. They're all perfect. I just... don't know if I deserve to wear any of these." The general felt his heart clench at your response, realising you were still far from being able to love yourself.
With a scoff, Hongjoong moved to stand beside you, "I'll have you know I only make dresses for people I deem worthy of them. Not just anyone can wear my designs, you know. And you, by far, are probably my favourite client. So that says a lot."
Your husband silently agreed with those words, resisting the urge to rush in there and hold you tight, to tell you that you deserved only the best, that you deserved everything good in the world.
Lowering your head, you fiddled with your fingers before replying in a small voice, "You're only saying that because I'm the general's wife..."
Sighing lightly, the dressmaker turned to face you, "You're not wrong... but that's exactly because not just anyone can be Lady Park. Many women before you tried to be in your position. Regardless of their efforts, he never would have given them the time of day. Yet, he wholeheartedly accepted you."
Recognising the doubt in your eyes, he further explained, "I understand if you think these are just words. But that's probably because you don't know the general like I do. We've known each other since joining the military in our teens. Back then, the Seonghwa I knew would never bat an eyelash at any woman."
As you slowly looked up to meet his kind eyes, intrigued to learn more about your husband's past, he continued, "Those rumours about him being the cold-blooded general were not lies. He really was as merciless as they say. He still is, just not to you. When I saw him again for the first time after years that day, I couldn't believe the man in front of me was the same friend I once knew. He's different around you; he's different because of you."
"It's evident that you're special to him, that you mean something to him. He cares so much about you; do you realise that?"
Tears welled up in your eyes, and you hurriedly blinked them back. The thought of someone genuinely caring for you still seemed surreal despite the amount of care that had been shown to you since living here. However, you were starting to understand that he was right.
Hongjoong grinned, seeing the effectiveness of his words, "You're the first and only woman who can tame Park Seonghwa, so you are beyond worthy of my dresses."
Before you could even attempt to protest, he held up a hand, "And don't bother telling me I'm wrong because I'm never wrong."
You couldn't help but giggle at his sassy words, and he smiled sincerely at you, saying, "So don't you dare question whether you deserve these clothes. You're the only one who deserves them because these are made only for you, do you understand?"
This time, you nodded with a wide smile.
"I want you to wear my dresses proudly and show the world who you are: the great Lady Park, the only woman General Park wants as his wife. No one will dare disrespect or look down on you again."
Feeling as if he knew exactly what had been worrying you, you felt touched. He was right; you were not who you used to be. You had no reason to cower from your family, recalling their belittling assumptions about your survival in this marriage. Now was your chance to prove them wrong.
With newfound determination, you nodded firmly, "You're right, I will. Thank you, Hongjoong. You're a good friend; Seonghwa is lucky to have you."
He crossed his arms over his chest cheekily, "I sure am. That fool hasn't a clue how fortunate he is."
Mission accomplished.
Pumping his fists in victory, your husband silently cheered outside, brushing off the playful taunts from his friend. Just this once, he would forgive Kim Hongjoong.
"Are you ready, my dear?"
The general turned to you as your carriage came to a stop, marking your arrival at what you assumed to be the Jang estate, your former prison. With a resolute nod, you smiled up at him, "I am."
As you moved to exit the vehicle, your husband halted you. Cupping your face in his hands, he gazed reassuringly into your eyes, "Remember, whatever happens, I'm here with you. You're not alone from now on; I'll always be here to protect you."
"I know, Seonghwa. I believe in you."
His heart melted at those words, and he couldn't resist pressing a lingering kiss onto your forehead. You fluttered your eyes closed, holding onto his wrists, cherishing the warmth he was providing.
"Alright, let's go." Leaving one final peck on your cheek, he got out of the carriage and swiftly helped you down, his strong arm securely wrapped around your waist. Eunsook stood there, mouth agape, that was initially meant to be her responsibility but she realised her assistance was no longer needed at the moment.
Jongho grinned, nudging the elderly woman on the shoulder as they followed their master and mistress into the minister's estate, "Come on, we've got work to do."
Taking a deep breath, you surveyed the familiar surroundings that once made you feel small. Feeling a reassuring squeeze on your hand, you found comfort in your husband's presence.
Yes, he's here with you now.
Nothing bad will happen.
His grip on your hand tightened, and his warm smile, reserved only for you, vanished when a few of your father's servants nervously stumbled out, bowing deeply before both of you, "Good morning, General Park. Welcome to the Jang estate."
The brave front you had put on seemed to falter slightly as you realised the servants here remained the same, showing no acknowledgement despite you no longer being their prisoner. Seonghwa, glaring at the maids in front of him, growled in a low voice, "You've left out Lady Park. Will you not greet my wife?"
Gulping on behalf of the servants, you witnessed the return of the general's intimidating demeanour. Hongjoong was right; he was still terrifying, just not to you.
The maids bowed deeper, "B-but sir—"
"What is going on here?" That voice resonated across the courtyard, causing your heart to plummet to the lowest pit of your stomach. Perhaps you weren't ready to face them at all. Your father emerged from the main hall, wearing an expression that was far from pleased.
You pressed closer to your husband, and instinctively, he wrapped an arm around your back, pulling you close. The minister's eyebrow raised in surprise at your refined appearance; he nearly did not recognise you. You were even more stunning than on the day you left this place, seemingly given a complete makeover.
Aside from that, he realised the general had meant his words when he had spoken so highly of you during assembly. Witnessing the intimacy between the two of you, there was undeniable evidence of shared affection. Your father began to question whether marrying you to his enemy was a mistake in the first place.
Seonghwa smirked, "Ahh, Minister Jang, it seems your servants do not know proper manners. They did not greet my wife, and that, to me, is punishable."
The old man felt his eye twitch at the general's satisfied grin before responding, "Well, I'm their master, so I decide what is punishable, General Park."
"Right, well, I'm just looking out for you. Wouldn't want people to find out what rotten-mannered staff my father-in-law has in his estate, not knowing how to show respect to even the general's wife."
"You do realise that before she became your wife, she's my daughter first." Your father sneered, and you felt sick at that, to be called his daughter when you've never once been treated as such.
Remaining unfazed, your husband retorted, "All the more reasons for them to show respect to their eldest miss then, no?"
Jongho and Eunsook bowed their heads in an effort to hide their snickers at the minister's red face flushing in embarrassment. He should have known better than to think he could win the general in an argument, "R-right. What are you fools standing around for? Show Lady Park some bloody respect!"
The line of servants bowed all the way down pathetically, "Yes, master! Good morning, General Park and Lady Park! Welcome to the Jang estate!" They chanted loudly, enough to bring about the rest of your family, coming out to witness what all the fuss was about.
"Very well, let us head in then." With a bored expression, Seonghwa walked into the hall with you, moving right past your stepmother and stepsisters intentionally, paying them no mind as he helped you into a seat before settling down beside you.
All four of the women standing in the main hall were rooted to their spots, eyes bulging as they took in the sight of you and your husband. First of all, you were nearly unrecognisable. If they thought you looked pretty on the day you got married, you were now almost a hundred times more beautiful, though they would rather die than ever admit it out loud.
Beyond your enhanced appearance, they were more taken aback by the general's beauty. He was nothing like they had imagined; he must have been one of the most attractive men ever, or at least the most handsome one they had seen so far.
Suddenly, your stepsisters were even angrier than they were upon learning about your stupid grand wedding. They were now furious with their father for never having told them about how good-looking General Park truly was. If only they knew, they would have volunteered to marry him themselves.
But what if there was still hope for them?
What if they had a chance?
After all, you hadn't officially wed Seonghwa yet and were merely here to discuss plans for the upcoming ceremony. Perhaps, with enough effort, they could still win him over. If a peasant like you could seduce the general, why couldn't any of them? With this determination in mind, the three stepsisters promptly began adjusting their appearances as you all gathered around the main hall.
You didn't appreciate the way your stepsisters were eyeing your husband, although you understood their motives. Sensing your discomfort, Seonghwa moved closer to you in his seat, whispering in your ear, "Are you feeling alright, my dear?"
Nodding lightly, you looked up with a small smile, "I am, as long as you're with me," He couldn't resist smiling at your words as he gave you a gentle peck on the head, "Good."
That should be me!
The three stepsisters clenched their fists, their fury intensifying as they witnessed the handsome general being affectionate with you. It should have been them; the title of the general's wife was more befitting a noblewoman like them, not a rat like you. How dare you sit there in their place as if you deserved it?
In an attempt to break the silence, Jinah cleared her throat and made her move, "Have you been well, unnie? I missed you so much! Did you know how worried I was about you? You must have had such a hard time, especially after you adamantly refused to marry General Park."
Seonghwa raised a brow in amusement, while you remained quiet, unsure how to respond to such a blatant lie. Jinjoo scoffed at your lack of response, "Unnie! Will you really not answer Jinah at all? You've always been like that, so ungrateful when we care so much about you!"
"Really? My wife being ungrateful? That's wild. I cannot imagine her like that at all." Your husband chuckled, holding you close when he felt you begin to tremble.
Jinhee's fists shook with envy as she nodded pitifully, "Yes, that's because you haven't known her well enough, my lord. She can be so scary when she's mad, you know how the eldest usually are."
Minister Jang rubbed a tired hand over his head when he realised what his stepdaughters were trying to do. Of course, these foolish girls would easily be blinded by the general's appearance. Even his own wife, seated beside him, found it difficult to take her eyes off the gorgeous young man.
Jongho and Eunsook, positioned behind you and their master, were making every effort to contain the irritation they felt. The audacity of these women to feign innocence after what they've put you through all these years. They were once again thankful not to have any of these conniving foxes as their mistress.
Rubbing his thumbs over your hands, Seonghwa laughed sarcastically in disbelief, "I'm sorry, I just find that so hard to believe. Are you sure you're not all talking about yourselves?" In an instant, his smile dropped, and he sent your stepsisters a death stare as if daring them to continue spouting more ridiculous lies about you.
Left in stunned silence, they blinked nervously and avoided his eyes, unprepared for his questioning. It was clear that they hadn't planned their silly little act thoroughly.
Damn it, how did that worthless thing manage to gain his favour?
"That's enough." The minister declared firmly, not wanting his stepdaughters to continue embarrassing themselves. All he wanted was to get the general out of his house as soon as possible. Every moment that Seonghwa remained felt like a threat; your father was walking on eggshells around him.
Pushing himself off his seat, the old man addressed your husband, "You mentioned wanting to see the environment your wife grew up in, right? Let's proceed with that before we delve into discussions about your wedding arrangements. I don't have all day."
"Sure, can't wait." Seonghwa responded smugly, standing up with your hand securely in his. A sense of unease washed over you as you wondered what kind of deception your father would employ. Surely, they wouldn't be stupid enough to reveal your actual room to the general. Dread filled you, and you longed to return home.
Your real home, not this nightmare.
« Preview of Part 9 »
As you all followed the minister around the estate while he showed the general what was supposed to be your old room, Jongho exchanged a glance with the private investigator who was still posing as a staff member in the estate.
"This is unnie's room; she has the biggest and nicest one out of all of us. She's so lucky and doesn't even know it. I'm the youngest and I have the smallest room; I'd honestly be happy to have anything at all." Jinjoo said innocently, playing with a strand of hair as she batted her eyelashes at Seonghwa.
You stared blankly at the room supposedly designated as yours. It was merely a guest room rearranged with some of your stepsisters' belongings to create the illusion of long-term habitation. Sensing Jinah and Jinhee's intense gazes on you, you turned to find them glaring daggers at you as if daring you to speak up and disclose the truth to your husband.
If you voiced your denial, who would believe you? It was your entire family against you alone. Would there even be a point in trying?
Just as doubt started to creep in, Seonghwa wrapped an arm around you, reminding you of his support, "Is that true, my dear? Is this your room? It doesn't really seem to be your style at all."
Everyone held their breath, awaiting your response, but you remained silent, fixing your gaze on the familiar space where you spent your entire life, now masquerading as a storeroom.
"What is it that you're staring at so intently, hm? Let's go take a look."
Oh, crap.
Shit will go down in the next part, I assure you. Patience, my dearest readers, patience HAHA this part was focused more on setting the stage for the main event.😈
Also, I've created a mood board for this fic. If you haven't already checked it out, go take a look! I might consider making another one that depicts Seonghwa's estate if I'm able to find the right images.
As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3
Running was not your forte, and neither was breathing apparently as you choke trying to get air into your lungs as you reach the fortunately empty elevator.
You were running late, and you were seconds away from being fired on your third day of work. You had just gotten the job as one of the content creators for a variety show through one of the big four entertainment companies, and today was the first official day at the company.
HYBE was bigger than you imagined, and thus, the reason you were late. You had gotten lost on the first floor and then there were issues with your ID card getting past security. But you manage to reach the 12th floor in record time and use the piece of paper you received the last meeting to find the correct room.
It was slight chaos when you opened the door, unsurprisingly as you now realized who you would be working with for the variety show. Everything was kept top secret until you were approved by HYBE and showed up on the first day, after signing numerous NDA’s of course.
The BTS boys were having fun and running amuck as they waited for the shoot to start. It was supposed to be just a fun shoot, numerous arcade games set up throughout the room and a table set in the middle where some challenges were going to take place later on.
You looked around after taking in the room, trying to set eyes on your director. Eventually you find him talking to your fellow creators, going over the different challenges that would be taking place.
“—After the water bottle challenge, we’re going to move onto the karaoke booth.” You arrive just at the tail end of the run through, but you manage to understand anyways, seeing as you all had a copy of the schedule for the day.
“Where have you been? Never mind, you’re working on the individual camera today.” Your director questions you but doesn’t give you any time to explain yourself before moving on and assigning you your task. You quickly nod your head, before moving to grab one of the video cameras from the table.
You would be in charge of taking individual behind the scenes videos and photos for the social media accounts. You had seen episodes of Run BTS before and knew how much moving you would be doing today.
Again. Running wasn’t your thing.
“What are you doing?” You turn your head to see a slightly older woman in front of you, her hands on her hips as she looks towards the camera in your hands.
“I was assigned individual shots today, Ma’am.” You respond as politely as you can, getting bad feelings from the woman in front of you.
You could almost feel that you would be having problems with her. You tried to be respectful though, not wanting to step on anyone’s toes on your first official day.
The woman just looked you up and down, her nose crinkling a little before she spoke. “Just don’t get in my way. I’ve been doing this longer than you have and don’t need some inexperienced newbie messing up my photos.”
You can only nod before she is walking past you, bumping into your shoulder on her way past.
‘What the heck?’ you think, turning to watch as she steps forward and begins to talk to one of the supervisors who was in the middle of talking to Namjoon. Shaking your head, you move to the edge of the set, close to the basketball arcade shot game.
You had a good view of the other games from here and felt you could maneuver through the set easier from where you were set up. Bringing your camera up to your eyes, you begin taking some practice shots, making sure the lighting was good and the settings on the camera aligned with what you wanted to photograph.
It took you some time, but eventually you were able to begin taking photos of the boys who had come back to mess around with the games after getting changed and before the actual shoot started.
You were so focused on the pictures that you didn’t even notice one of the boys moving up to you.
“Hi! You must be one of the new creators! I’m Taehyung.” The bright eyed man bounced right up to you when he noticed you, hand held in front of you to shake your hand as he introduced himself.
You put your camera down, smiling softly as you brought your hand to meet his, introducing yourself. As you did, you caught his attention on your wrist, where your soulmark resided. The initials of your soulmate were written in short, quick writing, the gray M and Y staring back up at you since the minute you turned sixteen.
Taehyung’s smile only seemed to widen once you introduced yourself, a twinkle in his eyes that wasn’t there before. You could barely blink before the director was calling for the boys to get into place; the shoot was about to begin.
You smile as you watch him bounce away again, his energy levels palpable as you hold your camera up again.
The next hour was spent moving slowly throughout the edge of the set up game room, trying to get as many good shots as you could. You noticed that Taehyung gravitated towards you and seemed to pull Yoongi with him to play the basketball game, Jungkook following behind to try and battle against the basketball player.
You moved closer to get a picture of both boys making a basket and scoring a point when someone stepped on your foot causing pain to radiate up your ankle and shin. A gasp leaves your lips as you look towards your left to see the woman from earlier, a glare set on her dark eyes as she almost pushes you aside.
You end up tripping over the cord to another game and just barely manage to catch yourself on the corner of said game before injuring yourself or ruining the shoot. You were so focused on the pain in your foot you didn’t even notice the burning in your wrist as your soulmark gets darker.
You didn’t notice the three men witnessing the entire thing, nor the dark looks Taehyung was sending to the older woman. A break was luckily called soon enough and you tried to move away back to the far wall but a hand on your arm stops you.
“What was that? I thought I told you not to get in my way?!” The older woman steps in front of you, her hand still gripping tightly to your forearm.
“I’m sorry, Ma’am. It won’t happen again.” You grit out as politely as you can, the pain in your ankle making you want to sit down but you knew you needed to just go along with what she was saying, not wanting any trouble.
“No. Don’t apologize.” You both turn to your right to see Taehyung, Yoongi and Jungkook, all three eyeing the hand gripping onto your forearm. The woman is quick to release you when she realizes what the boys were seeing.
“Oh boys! Don’t worry about this. I’m just giving some advice to the newbie.” The woman was quick to put on the sweet tone as she speaks to them. You just want to roll your eyes.
Pulling your arm back to your chest, rubbing against where you knew her grip was going to leave some bruises. Your sleeve had rolled back down and your forearm was on full display, along with your soulmark.
“Advice? It seemed like you stepped on and pushed someone out of the way. That is not okay nor something we want to see happen between our employees.” Yoongi’s voice was low, each word spoken slowly as if to ensure the woman knew exactly what she had done.
Jungkook moved to you while Taehyung and Yoongi were talking to the woman, his hand holding onto your own, softly and a huge contrast to the woman as he tilts your forearm around to see the spot where the woman held you.
The skin was red and he knew it would bruise. This was unacceptable and he would make sure that the woman would be reprimanded for her actions. As Jungkook continued to look over your arm, his attention was caught by your soulmark, his hyungs initials on the inside of your wrist.
‘No wonder Taehyung kept bringing him to where you were…’ Jungkook mused, a small smile on his lips as the thought of Taehyung trying to bring you two together.
Well, no time like the present.
Taehyung agreed, as his next words caught the attention of everyone.
“You hurt Yoongi’s mate.” Your eyes widened as your head turned quickly to see Yoongi already staring at you, your faces both sharing the expression of shock. Jungkook was still holding your wrist, bringing you the two feet until you were right in front of Yoongi.
You were silent, trying to process everything as Yoongi looked down at your held out wrist, his initials written in his own handwriting. Slowly, he pulled his own sleeve up, showing you his soulmark.
Your initials were written in your own soft script, smooth cursive showing on his inner wrist, the same spot as your own.
You were lost in your own world, oblivious to all of the noise and emotions happened outside the two of you. Yoongi slowly brought his hand to your wrist, his thumb rubbing over the top of your soulmark, gray turning to a dark black as the soulbond snaps into place confirming Taehyung’s suspicions.
“Hello, soulmate.” A gummy smile burns into your retina, a memory you never want to forget as warmth erupts in your soul.
Between the Bones (Leon x GN! Reader) - Chapter 15
Leon faces the end of his assessments, and then the two of you face whatever is between the two of you.
(Cross-posted from Ao3)
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“How are you feeling, rookie?”
Leon was, despite his aching head, his bruising jaw, the freshly sutured wound in his arm and the exhaustion from a long day and interrupted sleep, in a good mood. How could he not be, after the conversation the two of you had just had? Whatever came next for you, at least you were talking again. At least he got to see you smile. Not much could kill the high that had put him in. Not much, but hearing Major Krauser’s raspy voice sure threatened violence against that happiness.
“I feel like I was woken up with tear gas,” Leon answered, not caring if the Major would think the response too sharp.
“Upset about that, are you?” Krauser sounded amused as he stepped up to where Leon sat at the edge of the bed. “And here I thought you could handle anything I threw at you.”
Leon’s brow slid down, the easy expression he’d been wearing becoming something more determined. “I can.”
“Really? Because no one else had to be carried out of there tonight.”
That fact set stones in Leon’s gut. He’d been so caught up in the pain and panic - and then elation - he’d almost missed the sinking feeling that he had, in the Major’s eyes, made a mistake.
“What did I tell you about being a hero?”
Leon tensed, his brow twitching. Might as well get right to the point, if this was going where he thought it was. “So did I fail, then?”
Krauser looked at him, inhaling slow. “Well, that depends. You think you can fight with that arm?”
Eyes widening, Leon looked up, and any doubts, any worries he had were gone. “I’ve had worse,” he said, and Krauser chuckled.
He almost looked proud.
“Well alright then, rookie. Get some rest. Report as usual for First Call.”
And Leon was there, his arm bandaged and his body aching, but standing at attention for those first morning drills. His squad mates had eyed him as he filed in, and in the quiet moments as they waited for Major Krauser to arrive, it was Williams that spoke up at last. “Hell of a night, huh?”
The laughter that followed was hushed and dry. The sort that was brought about by enduring a shared hardship.
Leon couldn’t help but smile as Alenko nudged him with a grin. “Good to see you made it, Kennedy.”
Leon just shrugged. “Wouldn’t miss it.”
By the time Krauser arrived, Leon’s squad, though tired, though beaten down, was ready. They all stood tall, their jaws set firmly as the Major passed them each a practice knife, the silver blades dull in the dim light of the morning. Combat drills weren’t usually run so early, but Leon knew not to expect Krauser to adhere to a schedule. So, he braced himself, taking some deep breaths as he looked for the appearance you’d told him you would be making.
Instead, the Major found another way to surprise them.
“Hold onto those today,” Krauser instructed, pointing to the knife that he’d just handed to Shinoda. The Major was grinning, because of course he fucking was. “Be ready to use them. Now, get your gear.”
Leon realized then that you’d perhaps only told him half of the final test. He’d assumed a fight with you meant what it usually did: you working your way down the line in the training yard, later in the day. Instead, he learned very quickly that day that Krauser had something else in mind.
It wasn’t long into the forced march that he saw you - or what he came to realize was you. He hadn’t been sure at first; all he’d seen was the shape of a person moving through the trees. Then, like a shadow, you’d emerged, and there was steel flashing at the throat of the recruit that had fallen behind the rest.
It was over in a few seconds, and your opponent barely had time to pull his knife from its sheath. Then, he was forced down onto the dirt path, his arm held down and your blade at the back of his neck.
Leon and the rest of his unit went for their own knives, until Krauser’s voice halted them. “No, no. This isn’t your fight,” he hissed, and everyone stilled. “Don’t worry, the Sergeant has plenty of time. You’ll all get a chance to play.” Leon was suddenly aware of his heart beating more heavily as you stood, helping your defeated opponent up as you did. The intensity he’d come to know from you was back, a suit of armor that kept you well-protected as you moved off the path and into the trees once more. Armor that he saw a chink in when you met his eyes briefly, and he saw a challenge sparkling there in the low light. Then you were gone, and the game truly began.
And a brutal game it was.
You didn’t play fair - and Krauser likely had instructed you to do just that. There were nine more recruits to fight through, and it soon became clear that you were taking your time, choosing moments when they wouldn’t expect it. You went after one during the morning exercises, attacking when the recruit was doing push-ups. Leon managed to shout his comrade a warning, letting him get up in time to mount a defense. In the end, though, it didn’t matter.
Shinoda’s fight came at breakfast, right as he set his food down. The violence earned shouts from the other recruits watching, a savage chorus cheering on the combat. Shinoda was able to use the tables to his advantage, and after a few minutes of cat and mouse play, he managed to land slashes on your arm and leg.
You still ended the fight as the victor, though, with a slash across the belly.
“You two train together,” Williams pulled Leon aside, as the group was headed to the firing range. Paranoia had everyone in a stranglehold, and they were all dealing with it in their own way. Williams, it seemed, wanted to plan ahead. “Anything to watch out for? Weaknesses?”
Leon wasn’t sure how to answer. He knew you better than they did, true, but pointing out your weaknesses felt like a betrayal. Even if you were, in essence, picking them off one by one. But then, would it even matter if they knew? Would they be able to adjust in time to beat you?
Luckily, Alenko was there to return the favor from the night before and saved Leon from answering. “If you don’t know by now, then you haven’t been paying attention,” he said.
Alenko must have been paying attention, though, because when you rushed him only moments later, he held his own well enough. At least, he did, until you pulled another blade into the fight - one concealed at the small of your back, beneath your shirt.
Then, even Leon who had fought you more than anyone else on base felt nervous. You’d never used two knives before, not that he’d seen. Still, as he watched your exchange with Alenko, he realized that you must have been practicing as much with your own squad. You danced with the twin fangs well, and secured another victory in doing so. When you locked your blade against Alenko’s throat, your eyes found Leon’s, and any frustrations he might have had about this new development melted away.
He’d asked you not to go easy on him, after all.
So Leon awaited his turn, keeping his guard up with the rest of his squad as the day went by. Some of them came close, but none of them managed to score a victory against you. Not when you had the element of surprise and were armed just as they were. He watched each fight - not quite the easy affairs they once were, but still incredible to behold. At least, as far as Leon was concerned, they were incredible. Steel was an art with you - a song that only you knew the steps to.
Still, he didn’t let his focus waver. He had to get through this and then, perhaps, he could entertain those thoughts.
If you were willing.
Instead of thinking of how beautiful you looked with those weapons, Leon focused on how you were just a touch slower to act with your off-hand, when you had two knives out. How you would sometimes go for the binds he knew you favored, only to reconsider and go for an attack at the last minute.
Williams was the ninth fight, and she nearly had you. As strong as she was, and with her reach, she was able to cage your weapon against your leg, and nearly ran you through with a stab. Then, your other hand went for your second knife, and you spun to the side. The dulled blade met her neck, and then only Leon remained.
“Of course Kennedy gets saved for last,” Williams grumbled, not happy with losing.
Leon wasn’t sure what it meant that everyone had lost so far, but he did his best not to let it affect him. Krauser had trained them well. You had given him the tools he needed to win. All he needed to do was keep alert and apply what he’d learned.
He kept an eye out through his drills and hand-to-hand sparring and everything in between. The tension dragged just long enough for the anxiety to begin to creep in, with Leon watching for you around every corner. He knew how to stay alert. How to move carefully and watch closely. How to react quickly, if he needed to. He knew that was likely all that saved him, when the time came.
He was sparring with Alenko when you made your move. He almost didn’t realize you were approaching - Alenko’s eyes widening, and the sound of quick footsteps were the only warning he got.
He got his block up just in time to fend off the stab you brought down on him, and staved off another as you brought your blade down and around, switching hands. It led to the two of you being locked together for a moment, his hands closed around either of your wrists and your eyes fixed on each other. Leon saw that flare of life in your eyes, the same way you’d looked the night you kissed him, and it sent electricity through him.
You brought your leg up, kicking him away. Leon took the opportunity to draw his own blade, nostrils flaring as he bent his knees. Raised his guard.
Something unspoken passed between the two of you - warm and charged - and then you were both rushing forward.
Leon couldn’t even say what happened in those first few seconds. All he knew was that you moved, and he moved with you, a series of attacks, blocks and ripostes that he got through purely on instinct. His body remembered where to go, what to do, your lessons and Krauser’s ingrained in his bones. He felt your knife brush against his forearm as you twisted it. He felt his own blade do the same when you didn’t get out of the way fast enough.
When the two of you separated, you were both breathing heavy, neither one of you down for the count.
And you were almost smiling.
“Not going to use both?” Leon asked, pointing at your waist where he knew the second knife was hidden. It was a risk, but you weren’t as used to fighting with the two blades, he’d seen it. Maybe, if you took the bait, you would trip up. Make a mistake. Then he might be able to win.
Or, he’d get cut to theoretical ribbons.
Either way, he was about to find out because you took the bait. You didn’t give him a response as you pulled your second knife out - you only looked at him with a raised brow and a tilted head. He knew that look, now. It was the expression you took on when you were sure you were going to win. Your funeral.
Leon found some pride in the fact that, even as you rushed him with two blades, he wasn’t panicked as he used to be. Even with an injured arm, he held his ground.
His squad mates cheered him on as he traded slashes and stabs with you, but it was all just noise to him. All he could really hear was the sound of the knives parting air, and the sharp exhales you both gave as you attacked and defended. The hiss of pain he made as your knife slashed against his bandages on a failed evasion. God, you were fast. You hardly gave him a moment to breathe, and with two weapons, Leon was on the defensive. He would go for an attack on your arm, and you would counter cut to his arm with your right hand, your other going for his belly. He would dodge a stab to his stomach only to have to block a slash at his throat.
His mind rushed as he tried to think of a way to get you to trip up.
He slashed at a diagonal, high to low. Your blades chased his arm as you retreated, then turned towards his midsection. Back arching away to avoid the attack, Leon pressed forward, going for your left shoulder. A feint, one that you raised a block for. The redirected attack was caught, wrist against wrist.
You made a mistake, then.
You went for the disarm on instinct, and Leon saw the split second as you changed your mind, deciding that you could end the fight then and there. It was all the time he needed, and he let the knife in his hand fall.
His left hand was there to catch it, to slash at the arm attacking him and then go for your stomach. You grunted as the first attack landed, the second missing by a hair’s breadth. More cheers, but Leon only heard one thing; the voice in his own mind.
Damn.
The knives in your hands flipped, and then you were holding them in a reverse grip. The same way Krauser preferred.
You were going to end the fight, Leon could see it in your eyes.
You moved first, attacking high and low. Shoulder, knee - Leon blocked both with wide eyes. Tried to slash down at you but had to move his hand out of the way of your counter cut.
A flash of steel as you went for his throat.
Another as he leaned away, and your second knife hooked at the back of his ankle.
He was falling, then, and his free arm couldn’t stop both the blades you followed him down with.
But he could raise his own knife in time.
You settled on top of him, the points of both of your blades finding his throat . . .
. . . and your eyes went wide as you realized you’d been met with steel in your chest.
You both would have died together, if it were a real fight. One more slow than the other, perhaps, but you’d still assured each other’s end.
A draw. The closest anyone today had come to winning against you.
And as Leon looked up at you, his heart nearly burst, because you were smiling at him with so much pride. He couldn’t help but smile back, and the world around the two of you ceased to be. It was no more than a second, but it would stay with Leon for much longer; the image of you above him, eyes sparkling, the sun above you outlining you in gold. You looked from his eyes to his lips and back again, and he swore that you decided something then and there.
Then, the moment ended. You stood, placing both of your knives in one hand and reaching the other down. When you helped him up, Leon felt like he was floating rather than standing.
⧫⧫⧫
In the end, only five of ten were deemed ready to move up to the next level of training. A woman named Lawson, who you’d exchanged maybe five words with and Shinoda, who you’d fought the day Krauser had pitted you against two at the same time. Williams and Alenko had passed, too, and you weren’t surprised by the news. Both were good soldiers, and they’d earned their new place in your squad.
The fifth - the only one you’d truly cared about - was making his way to you now, his eyes somehow bright even after everything he’d endured in the last few hours. But then, he was one of the strongest people you knew. Of course he could make it through these tests and still have it in him to smile when he saw you.
“Still managed to get another surprise in there, after all,” he said, and the good humor in his voice set you at ease.
“And you handled it. Told you, you’re getting good at this.”
“Guess I am,” Leon nodded, before his eyes took on a more serious light. “You still want to have that talk?”
You expected dread at the mention of it, but instead you just nodded, a sense of inevitability washing over you. After all, you’d had days to reconcile what it was you were feeling. It was time to stop hiding from it.
“Yeah,” you nodded, looking to the open window of the officer’s barracks and then back. This wasn’t the sort of conversation you wanted to have in earshot of Krauser or anyone else. Especially Krauser. “Let’s walk.”
And so the two of you set out across the base, tracing a little ways away from the walls. The first few minutes were spent in a comfortable silence, one that you didn’t mind. It was a little reprieve for both of you from the day’s events, a moment to just take in the sounds of evening crickets and the way the sky was getting ready to put on its evening show.
Calm could only last for so long, though. The two of you understood that better than anyone. And after everything either of you had survived, you didn’t want this to be the thing that finally made you run for your life. So, you waited until you reached the spot you’d been searching for - that little corner behind the mess hall where the cameras were blind and the shadows were long. Leon didn’t question as you led him there, or as you went and leaned against the wall. He settled in beside you, not too close, but not too far. Just within reach.
“Quiet spot,” he observed.
“That’s the idea,” you nodded. Then, you took a breath and went on. “You said we should just talk about what we’re feeling next time - be flat out.” It was now or never. And you wouldn’t forgive yourself if you let it slip into the latter. “I’m ready to have that talk, if you are.”
Leon looked over at you, and the hope behind his baby blues was too damn much. “Yeah,” he nodded, “I’m ready.”
And there was the open ocean, uncharted and unyielding, stretching out before you. Waiting for you to take the plunge.
Well, fuck it.
“We’re training to fight things that take people and turn them into something else. Take their souls.” You hated that your voice already started to strain, but you went on. “If it doesn’t happen to us, then there’s a million other things that could go wrong. Us focusing on each other could make us slip up. And when we’re done here, we probably won’t even be put on the same missions half the time. It’s a bad idea. Us being together.” There was some bitter humor in your tone as all of those hard truths were given voice and form. Humor, because there was still one thing that overshadowed them. “And the worst part is that I know all of that . . .”
You didn’t give yourself a chance to second guess.
“. . . and it doesn’t make me want it any less.”
Leon turned towards you fully, and his gaze drew you in. Unavoidable. Inescapable. You were sure that, in that moment, no one could have looked away from him. Not when he looked so beautifully and unexpectedly elated. You wished you could keep the world from taking that joy from him.
“You mean that?”
“I do.”
Then, he blinked and laughed a little. “You’re kind of a tease, you know that?”
You grinned. “Trust me, pretty boy, you haven’t seen anything yet.”
“Will I?” He didn’t miss a beat, and you were a little pleased with him catching you off guard like that.
“That depends,” you countered, turning to face him more fully. You wanted an equal playing field. “Your turn. What are you feeling?”
Leon didn’t take long to answer. “I think that you know already . . .” you had to give him that much, “. . . but honestly, I think you’ve been the best thing about this place.”
That admission was almost enough to knock you off your damn feet. A little humor was your only defense. “Pretty sad fucking state of affairs for the base, then.”
“I’m serious.” He moved a little closer. “Having you has made this all easier. And I meant what I said.” The pink blush dusting his cheeks and ears betrayed his nerves, but he was pushing through it anyway, holding your gaze and speaking in a hushed tone. “You didn’t push things too far.” He looked down at your lips.
“How far is ‘too far’, then?” you asked, and you almost couldn’t hear your own voice over the pounding in your ears as you leaned in. It was Leon’s last chance to back out. To take the sensible path. Your last chance, too.
“If we ever get there, I’ll let you know.”
You’d known it was going to end this way. Still, when the two of you met in the middle, lips crashing together, you felt like you’d been thrown from the top of a building without a parachute.
All you could do was fall.
And you fell into the movements of his mouth against yours all too easily, less desperate than the last time. That had been all adrenaline and desire. This, you could tell, was something else. You could feel it in the way his arms moved around you, holding you so gently. So reverently. A hand came up to your jaw, and you responded in kind by putting a hand at his back, feeling the muscles that he had earned through so much pain and perseverance. You pulled him into you, taking care this time to memorize how his body felt against yours - to marvel at how right it felt, despite the distant warnings of your mind.
Warnings that grew more and more distant as the kiss went on, silenced by a greater desire. A will to get it right, this time. A second chance at a first, you thought, as you wove your other hand into his hair. He groaned a little at the touch, and you couldn’t say what possessed you to slip your tongue between his lips. All you knew was that he didn’t pull away. He met you in equal measure, breathing heavy against you.
So warm.
So real.
The steadiness of it began to turn into something else. Liquid fire, melting away at your belly. You went on kissing him, almost to spite your worries. To fly in the face of the nerves that had choked you day after day.
Each moment was a risk, but you couldn’t care less. Not when it was Leon in your arms and on your lips.
It didn’t seem like he cared much, either.
It might have been seconds or hours by the time you separated. Either way, you were both panting when you got the chance to really breathe, your lips swollen and shining in the low light. “Too far?” you asked, grinning like a fox because you already knew his answer.
“God, no,” Leon shook his head, laughing.
Your hand traveled from Leon’s hair to his face, in a more tender gesture than you perhaps intended. Still, you couldn’t deny that something in your heart stirred as he leaned into the touch.
And the smile he gave you . . . it was enough to split the world in two.
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A/N: The final (for now) Dawid Podsiadło song rec is the "Little Stranger", I had that on repeat while I was writing these last few chapters.
Broken record here, but seriously, thank you all so much for reading! It means the world to me! Stay happy and healthy, and I'll see you in the next chapter!
Between the Bones (Leon x GN! Reader) - Chapter 14
Major Krauser had never been an orthodox teacher. Even so, the tear gas was more than Leon could say he expected.
(Cross-posted from Ao3)
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TW: Use of tear gas on unsuspecting STRATCOM recruits - not sure if it's wholly necessary but I know there are definitely people who might have unpleasant experiences with tear gas, so thought I'd give fair warning.
He couldn’t breathe.
He couldn’t breathe.
It felt like the air around Leon was taken away, replaced with something blistering. Something that made his eyes blur and water, and the inside of his nose burn. His face. His throat. His cheeks and lips were wet with tears and spit, and it only seemed to make it all worse. Something was gripping his chest from within, every short breath invited it to tear at him.
Fuck-
Fuck-
“Gas!” he cried, trying to warn the people around him. Pain was his reward as the chemicals in the air filled his mouth. He sputtered. Clutched at his eyes, his neck.
There were coughs, shouts, and then cries of alarm. Words that lost meaning because the only thing that made sense was the panic. Distant crashing, footfalls - too much sound that Leon couldn’t place. Motion that just looked like blurred darkness in the room that trapped him.
He had to move.
Move.
Move!
There were shouts behind him, and he was on his feet and rushing towards where he knew the door to be, his hands pulling his shirt over his nose. Eyelids squeezed tight against the burning air.
It almost made him miss the dark shape in front of him, one that might have been man or monster. Whatever it was, Leon felt the impact of something hitting him - hands, he realized - and then he went falling backwards.
The dark, the tight air around him, the shadow that knocked him aside like he was nothing . . . he might have wondered if he was dreaming of the past, were it not for the very real pain inside and out.
He caught himself before he hit the ground, and the shape remained in front of him. Unmoving. Not alone. Leon couldn’t be certain how many others were there, but he did know that there were shadows standing between him and the door. Then there were other lines of motion. The sounds of footfalls as people passed Leon. More shouts. More impacts that sounded like punches. Kicks. More bodies hitting the floor beside him. Even as Leon himself tried to stand, something knocked him back down. Loomed over him.
“What the fuck?” someone coughed. He knew the voice. Williams. She was next to him. Knocked down the same way he had been.
They were keeping them from the door.
Keeping them in.
They had to get out. They needed air-
“Window-” he sputtered. Hopefully someone would hear.
Leon scrambled, clawing at a bed beside him to pull himself up. His other hand swung wildly as one of the waiting figures reached for him. Then, when he felt a safe moment, he grasped for Williams, finding her shoulder. He grabbed her shirt, feeling her hand clasp over his, and then they were both rising from the floor. He used the frame of the bed to guide himself, groaning as he pulled his fellow recruit up, even as his throat was shredded for the effort. Williams put a hand at his back, urging him forward. Towards the faint, fuzzy yellow of the distant streetlights through glass.
He hadn’t really realized he’d reached the window until he felt his hands press against the glass. He had to let go of Williams. Then he was searching for the lock, fingers hunting along the frame.
When they caught on it, Leon nearly felt relief flood him, but instead he just felt a rush of air like fire as someone grabbed him around the waist and flung him to the side.
Leon hit the floor hard, rolling once before stopping himself with a hand and a knee. He grunted, hearing more impacts. Williams shouting again. The pain was nothing next to the anger that filled him, because he knew what this was. This was one of Krauser’s tests. Even through the smoke of the gas, the darkness of the room and the caustic agony he experienced, he came to that realization with perfect clarity.
Maybe that was what made him stand - what made him let out a cry of frustration as he rushed blindly forward, following only his instincts. And those instincts led him to collide with something. Someone.
They grunted as Leon slammed into them, the force of it enough to send them falling backwards. Right into the wall, Leon realized, as the impact knocked him into the person he was tackling. Whoever it was he’d attacked, they slumped down for a moment.
Leon knew to take the opportunity.
Then he was reaching for the window again, coughing as he tried to push it up. When he felt hands on him, his eyes stung as they widened. Someone kicked his back leg, forcing him to his knees. He didn’t have to tell his body to move, his elbow was just swinging through the air. It made contact. He heard a cry.
To hell with this.
He pushed himself up and that same elbow made contact again, this time with the window. Two strikes, one for the glass and the other for the screen behind it. The shattering sound brought with it a rush of clean, cool air.
Go.
Get out.
That was what his body begged of him, his mind.
But he wasn’t alone in the barracks. The rest of his squad was in just as much pain and danger as he was.
So he stumbled towards where he thought Williams might be, calling out for her and reaching out a hand. Someone took hold of him, and whoever it was, Leon was pulling them towards the window. He was happy to realize that it was Williams as the tall woman crawled through the opening. He was even happier that he was there to engage the figure that had attacked them earlier before they could stop the escape.
Coughing, forcing his eyes to remain open, Leon swung a fist at the figure he’d fought earlier, just as they reached for Williams. He could make out a gas mask as whoever wore it turned. Blocked him. Then shoved him aside again in a move that Leon wasn’t quite fast enough to stop.
Even so, as Leon made painful contact with a bunk frame, he glimpsed Williams slip out the window.
Then someone else - another of his squad he hadn’t even realized was there, followed.
Blinking hard, Leon looked back towards the interior - towards that blurred chaos. His squad was fighting. He could see the outlines moving in the dark and hear the sounds of combat. They were trying to push through to the door.
They wouldn’t make it. Not if they couldn’t see. Couldn’t breathe.
Others had heard the window break. There were people moving towards him. He could only hope that they were on his side, retching some of the building spit in his mouth.
“Over . . . over here!” Leon shouted as best he could, hoping to catch the attention of the rest.
It was then that he noticed the other attention he’d drawn; there were more than just his squad mates making their way towards him. He looked back towards the gas-masked figure that he’d fought. A figure that was now approaching him. Stalking towards him in a way that was all too familiar.
Even with everything happening around him, Leon had passed the point of fear. Maybe he’d even passed the point of reason.
So as the promise of a fight drew near, Leon just rose into a ready stance, with one thought on his mind.
Let them try.
Whoever was behind the gas mask didn’t hesitate. Even if Leon couldn’t see well, he was used to fighting in the dark. Used to dodging away when he had to. Old instincts and old hurts let him move out of the way in time.
People were scrambling through the window. More masked shadows were following close behind.
It was time to go.
Leon reached for one of the bunks, groaning as he leveraged it with all his newfound strength. It flipped onto its side just before the masked figures reached him. And with that, he was running the short distance to the window. He nearly made it before he felt someone grabbing at him again. Whoever it was had no intention of playing nice. Leon learned that when he felt a fist jab into his side, painfully hard, and then there was an arm snaking around his neck.
He already couldn’t breathe, but when Leon felt that chokehold slide into place, he thought for sure he was going to die, training exercise be damned. It set his heart racing and his hands scrambling, everything he’d learned about how to get out of such a hold lingering just out of reach.
“No hard feelings, blanquito,” whispered a cocky, cruel voice. His adrenaline stopped him from placing it.
Then, mostly by accident, his fingers found his assailant’s head. Their mask, and the straps that secured it in place. One of the clips that kept it there.
A few months ago, Leon would never have considered the action he was about to take. He would have deemed it too cruel. That was before he’d seen the dead rise in droves to tear men limb from limb. Before he’d been lied to and used. Before he’d been made to live in a world where he finished each day of training with new bruises. In that moment, all he was concerned with was getting out of this hell.
So, as quickly as he could manage, Leon pressed in on either side of the clip while his other hand found its way to the edge of the gas mask.
He didn’t get it all the way off, but he pried it away from whoever’s face it was covering, and that was enough.
The attacker shouted, crying out in pain and letting Leon know the gas had hit them. The second way he knew was because their grip on him loosened. Enough that he could elbow his way free before making a break for the window.
Someone was there. Lighter clothes, and their skin was visible against the blur. One of Leon’s squad, then. He was in the middle of pushing another masked figure away.
Without thinking twice, Leon reached for his fellow recruit. Alenko, he realized, as the man turned to face him. He helped the older soldier through the window, ushering him to the fresh air with an urgency he’d not felt since Raccoon City.
An urgency that became all the more necessary when he concluded that he was the last one of his unit near the window. Everyone else had gotten out, and now he had all the soldiers that were chasing his comrades bearing down on him like wolves. He leapt for the window, but it was too late.
A hand at his shoulder, turning him around with a force he didn’t expect. He didn’t react fast enough to stop the blow that followed - a hard one to his face that struck like a bolt from heaven. It knocked him hard, and he was so focused on the pain of it, he almost didn’t feel the impact of his skull against the floor.
In fact, as he lay there, he didn’t feel much of anything, for a moment. It was a wonderful, if brief, reprieve from it all.
Then he felt like he was going to be sick. That burning was back in his lungs. His jaw throbbed. His forearm stung. The edges of his vision blurred, and he couldn’t tell if it was the gas or his mind letting consciousness slip from him. He considered what might happen if he just didn’t get up-
“What the fuck are you doing?”
Your voice cut clean through everything else, because it was the first time in days that he’d heard it. Leon wished he could tell which form you were in the dark, but as another fit of coughs overtook him and his eyes fell closed, he felt a pair of hands on him. Lifting him. Pulling his arm over your shoulder.
“Lean on me,” you said, and Leon wanted to smile. Instead, his head lolled forward, and he was vaguely aware of tears and spit stretching down to the now-moving floor beneath him. Something was dripping down his arm.
Not how he wanted you to see him . . .
He wasn’t exactly sure what happened next. He just knew that he could breathe again. There was dirt beneath his feet. Voices around him.
“. . . his head . . .”
“. . . take him . . .”
I’m bleeding, he realized silently as his arm came into focus - the one dangling at his side.
More movement. Leon could see, now. The two of you were approaching a building, lit dimly against the night. He started to remember to move his legs, helping you make better time. When he felt he could do it without making the world tilt on its axis, he looked up at you.
You were wearing a gas mask, same as the others. That knowledge brought too many complicated feelings.
Feelings that were done away with when you turned your head, and he could see your eyes through the mask’s lenses. “I’ve got you,” you said, hoisting him up.
If nothing else, he believed that was true.
⧫⧫⧫
They gave you a change of clothes, and you couldn’t recall ever discarding gear so quickly. The gas mask especially was tossed to the side and abandoned without hesitation, and you were moving into the infirmary like the answers to all your questions were housed within.
Not too far from the truth, you supposed.
Leon was there, sitting up and looking into the Doc’s flashlight. “Think you avoided a concussion,” you heard the medic say. Leon just nodded, his eyes finding yours the minute he was able.
He looked terrible.
His eyes were still puffy from the tear gas, his nose red and his hair a tangle. They’d had the decency to give him a new change of clothes, too, replacing the sweaty, tear and snot-stained shirt he’d been in. He pressed a cloth to his left forearm, covering a gash he’d no doubt gotten when he smashed through the barracks window.
God, you wanted to punch him. Shake him for his foolishness. Hold him. Kiss him.
And therein lay the problem.
How many days had you spent convincing yourself that you could create distance between the two of you? How long had you taken carefully building up those walls around yourself again, ready to retreat home to weather the storm? All for it to be undone the moment you saw Leon refuse the opportunity to escape and run right back into danger.
It made you furious. It made you scared. It made you proud. The worst thing, though, was that it didn’t surprise you at all.
“He gonna be alright?” you asked, and the Doc looked back at you with a shrug.
“Should be, now that he’s gotten the chance to breathe. Just need to dress this cut, give him some time to rest and he’ll be right as rain.”
“Let me do that. Then you can catch some shut-eye,” you offered, and you wished you hadn’t seen how Leon’s demeanor shifted at your words. You didn’t need to be any more off-balance than you already were. “It’ll be good practice.”
The Doc gave you a look - one that made the crow’s feet around his eyes deepen - but shrugged in the end. “Suit yourself, Sergeant. Stitch it, just to be safe.” Standing, the grizzled man moved past you, closing the door behind him like he knew there was a conversation to be had.
And then you were alone with Leon for the first time since you’d kissed him.
God, why had you done that? Why did you have to go and make it complicated? And now, with several days’ worth of silence between the two of you, it was clear that you’d only made it worse.
Dressing a wound wasn’t complicated. Not one like this, at least, so you busied yourself with that. Neither of you said a word as you collected the antiseptic, needle, thread and bandages you needed. You both just eyed each other, waiting for someone to make the first move like you were in a sparring match. Would he even want to speak to you, after how long you’d been avoiding him? Eventually, finally, you got your answer when he spoke up.
“So. That’s Krauser’s idea of a test.”
Oh, he was pissed. He had every right to be. The tear gas had been more excessive than you’d imagined - and you had seen the Major pit his students against some steep odds in your time here. Still, you couldn’t quite fault him for what he’d done.
“No such thing as a safe place to sleep in the field,” you sighed, returning to Leon with the supplies you needed.
You half expected him to protest - to tell you that what Krauser did was wrong. You wouldn’t blame him. You might not even argue otherwise. Instead, Leon just exhaled, then sniffled - still not entirely free of the tear gas’ effects. “Guess not.”
You weren’t quite sure why, but those words chipped at your heart. The words and the surrender in his reddened eyes.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” you said, when your old friend, guilt, came knocking.
Leon just shrugged. Didn’t look at you. “Don’t worry about it.”
Well, tough, Leon. You’d watched him get taken to the ground with a punch. You were going to fucking worry. “They shouldn’t have gone that far.”
“Business as usual, right?”
He’d not sounded so hopeless in weeks. But what did you expect after you’d treated him the way you had for the last few days? You had to make it right. “The ones that were after you. It wasn’t me.” You weren’t sure what compelled you to tell him that. Maybe you just didn’t want him to hate you more than you already imagined he might.
“I know it wasn’t.” He said it so earnestly. Like he’d never even imagined it was a possibility.
That smoothed the fraying edges of your mind. Enough that you could focus on the task at hand.
“Here. Give me your arm.”
He did as he was asked, holding the bloodied limb out to you as you sat beside him on the bed. As he let the cloth fall away, you were met with a few little scrapes and one larger, deep, jagged red line along the outside of his forearm - close to the elbow. The bleeding had stopped for the most part, but you could see the way the glass had parted the skin and a shallow part of the muscle - a cut that would no doubt scar.
“Got yourself pretty good,” you commented, applying the lidocaine to numb it. Touching him, even like this, felt like you were reaching for an old electric fence. You probably shouldn’t be doing it, but the promise of what was on the other side was too much to ignore.
“I didn’t even feel it until later.”
You wanted to test the waters before diving in, so you offered him a cautious but wry look. “Well, you left blood all over the barracks.”
He looked at you with some poorly veiled surprise. Then he gave a slight shrug, something brightening in those pretty blues of his. “Krauser can bill me for the cleaning job.”
“He’ll probably make you do it yourself.”
“Probably.” A little smile that set you at ease more than anything else in the world could. Then, his expression softened into something more sincere. “It’s good to talk to you again,” he said, and as soon as you looked him in the eye, you knew that the moment you’d been running from had found you at last. All you could do now was face it.
“It’s only been a few days,” you tried, but Leon shook his head.
“You know what I mean.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help you train,” you murmured as you started cleaning his wound. You couldn’t quite bring yourself to mirror his words, even if they were the undeniable truth.
Leon was too sweet for his own good, offering you an easy look. “It’s okay. I did alright. At least, until-” he gestured to the gash.
“You would have been the first one out of there,” you shook your head, speaking the words with an almost bitter taste as you threaded the needle for his stitches. “You’ve got to be more careful,” you said, your words tense and taught like a bowstring - one that you’d been slowly drawing back since your lips had met his days before. It was enough for him to look at you then, his brows arched and his eyes suddenly focused. Intense - especially with your next words. “You can’t keep throwing yourself into the fire for other people.”
He leaned away from you a touch, shaking his head. “I already told you; I’m not just going to let people get hurt if I can help them.”
“I don’t have a problem with you helping people,” you said, not sure if you were ready for the words that were to follow. “I have a problem when it gets you hurt. Because if it gets you hurt here, it’s going to get you killed out there.”
The words brought a gravity to Leon’s expression that sobered you - made your hand still so you were holding the needle just over his skin. “It doesn’t have to be my life for someone else’s,” he said, like he knew it was the truth.
Everything you’d seen told you otherwise. “It always ends up that way, though.”
He searched your eyes, and you wanted more than anything to look away - so you did. You broke the contact and looked down, sliding the needle into his numbed flesh.
“Why does it matter to you what happens to me?” He asked as though it had caused him some great grievance. It was the kind of question that stood too large and too vast - hiding a dozen other questions and truths behind it.
You couldn’t dance around it. So, you just looked back up at him, fixing him in a tired but true gaze. In it, you hoped, he would find what answers he was looking for. Even if the act made you feel like you’d just thrown yourself off a cliff into an abyss you’d been dreading. “You know damn well why. I care about you, Leon.”
Nothing else needed to be said. Leon’s eyes widened, and he swallowed a lump in his throat. You just forced yourself to hold that focus, because you were done being a coward. Whatever this was needed to be handled. For both your sakes.
“I’m just sorry that I pushed things too far,” you admitted, glancing back down and pulling the thread.
Leon’s lips curved into a frown; you could see it out of the corner of your eye. He shook his head. Kept his voice low but steady.
“You didn’t.”
It was a flashbang. Not enough to break you, but surely enough to stop you in your tracks. There was a lot of that happening in this conversation, you realized. This, though, had you forgetting your efforts to patch Leon up entirely.
“You didn’t push things too far,” he repeated when he saw the look of utter bewilderment you were giving him.
He’d pulled away from you.
“I thought . . . when you pulled back-”
“No,” Leon shook his head. “I just . . . I’m sorry too. That I froze up,” he urged, like the words had been eating away at him and he needed them gone.
It was a hell of a thing, watching your carefully constructed excuses and defenses be undone by a few words. You’d put so much stock into your own narrative, your own neat little version of events, that you’d ignored the reality of things. He’d apologized right away. He’d sought you out the next day, wanting to clear the air. You’d wanted to convince yourself that it was a simple situation with a simple solution: Leon didn’t feel the way you felt, and that could be that. Instead, you just had to sit there as he led that possibility into a gentle repose, never to rise again.
And then you felt yourself in that same, terrifying and uncharted territory.
Nowhere to go but forward.
“Like I said . . . you don’t have anything to apologize for.” You meant it, and you made yourself look him in the eye as you said it.
Leon smiled, and it seemed to ease some of the lingering irritation in his eyes. “Maybe next time we both just say what we’re feeling? So we don’t make assumptions.” He said it with a touch of humor.
“Next time?” There was no such humor to be found in your question - no room for it. As far as you were concerned, the topic of “next time” was serious and paralyzing. You needed an honest response, and Leon’s expression let you know he was going to give you one.
“Is that something you want?” he asked in return.
“I don’t know if it’s about what I want - what either of us want.”
He looked like he understood that much. Like the thought had crossed his mind, too. “Look,” he said after a moment, “whatever you want – whatever comes out of this, I’m just glad I have someone who I know will have my back. Who understands. If that’s all we are to each other, that’s alright.”
Damn this boy. Damn him straight to hell - and damn you for wanting to follow him there.
“You’re not making this easier,” you grumbled, and he chuckled a little.
“Turnabout’s fair play, right?”
Oh, you were fucked. You knew it because when he grinned at you like that, you were sure that just one kiss would never be enough. “Hold still,” you whispered, and Leon stopped talking. He just watched as you slid the needle through his skin, something flickering across his face as a comfortable quiet settled between the two of you. He had no right to be so patient with you. No right to be so kind in a world where everything could be taken away. Even after abandoning him, he was still considering your own struggles and feelings above his. Because that was who Leon was, at the end of the day. So, you brought that silence to an end as you bandaged his arm, because you wanted to make up for lost time. “Your final combat test today,” you began, looking up into Leon’s eyes. “It’s me. We’ll both be armed.”
The corner of his mouth twitched up. “I thought telling me would defeat the point of the test.”
“I think the tear gas was a big enough surprise.” You gave him a smile - the first one you’d worn in days. It felt good.
“Surprise is one word for it.” Leon smiled right back. “Just don’t go easy on me because I’m hurt.”
“Not a chance.” You tied off the bandage, but let your hands linger on him for a little longer than necessary. Held his gaze for just a second too long. “And then after, I owe you an explanation.”
The promise made his eyes soften. “I owe you one, too,” Leon agreed, so much passing unspoken between the two of you. It wouldn’t remain unspoken for long.
You nodded, standing at last. “I’ll tell Krauser you’re alright.”
“Tell him he’s an asshole, too,” Leon huffed.
As you pulled the door open, you shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first time he’s heard it.”
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Chapter Index
A/N: So, fun fact for those who don't know, the US Army does indeed make soldiers in basic training get tear gassed. It's done in a controlled environment and they usually go into the room wearing gas masks, then remove them and usually have to spend a few minutes inside. That's where the inspiration for that little "test" comes from! Of course, just exposing people to a terribly painful chemical irritant when they can brace for it seemed a little too tame for our mad lad Krauser. Because he's the menace of the millennium.
I'll forgive him cause it prompted The Talk between Leon and the Sarge, so it's ok.
genre : dragon au, fantasy au, holiday au, fluff, angst
word count : 4.3k
warnings : language, mentions of dragon hunters, talks about death, light injury but nothing major, one death threat
suffer tag : @sanjoongie and for anon who asked about any new chapters
note : very excited to write this, so let me know what you think! also here is a link to what y/n's dress at the yule gala looks like!
the winter month draws near and the clan prepares to celebrate the yule dragon festival for the first time in years. knowing this is wooyoung's first one with an actually clan, you want to make sure everything is perfect.
when you woke up in the morning, you noticed how snow had slowly begun to fall and lay on the ground. you also couldn't help but notice how the dragons around you seemed to have been in good moods. smiles on their faces as they walked around and some even greeted you with warm smiles.
when you arrived at the nursery, the hatchlings all immediately greeted you. most of them run up and tackle you to the ground.
"miss y/n! miss y/n! did you see the snow?" one hatchling, jiyu, asked and you couldn't help but laugh as you nodded and pushed some hair out of her face.
"yes, i did. very beautiful isn't it?"
"not as beautiful as you, miss y/n!" another hatchling, minjae, said. the other hatchlings couldn't help but agree with minjae and you couldn't help but laugh at them all.
"prince mingi said that we will be able to celebrate the yule dragon festival this year!"
"the yule dragon festival?" you remember wooyoung telling you about the holiday years ago when you first met. you can't help but feel excited knowing he's going to enjoy a real one this year.
"yeah! it's been years since the clan last held one," seeun says and that quickly catches your attention. years? you thought the holiday was a yearly thing?
"alright, little ones, let's go ahead and get ready for the day," mingi comes in and ushers the hatchlings away from you in order to gather them in a line so they could eat.
you push your curiosity down for later as you go over to help mingi with the hatchlings. you watch the hatchlings with a warm fondness as they eat and talk to each other, and the rest of the day goes by in flash with you and mingi taking care of the young dragons.
"miss y/n, have you ever experienced a yule dragon festival before?" one of the hatchlings asked as they were laying down for a nap. the question of one hatchling seemed to have caught the attention of a few others around you two.
"not a proper one with a true clan, but me and wooyoung used to do a small celebration before we came to the clan," you said as you remembered your time with wooyoung back in your cottage. you can feel your cheeks heat up as you remember the first time you both celebrated the yule dragon together.
"do witches have any special holidays?" another hatchling, siyu, asked.
"we do but they're not like the yule dragon one. we focus more on what we are thankful for and mourning those that have left us," you explain.
"that sounds sad."
"sometimes it is sad, but then you have to remember that even those that left this world are still with us in spirit. watching over and guiding us on the right path of destiny," you say.
"but miss y/n, you don't have to be sad anymore because you have all of us!" one hatchling said with the others immediately agreeing and you couldn't help but smile at all of them.
"okay, okay, everyone," mingi says as he comes in and immediately calming all the hatchlings down. "its time to rest, not get excited."
"but prince mingi," minjae says looking towards the tall prince, "don't you agree that miss y/n doesn't have to be sad anymore, since she has all of us now?"
"of course," mingi says as he bends down to pet minjae's head, "but miss y/n still has a right to miss those that she lost. we all do. now come on, everyone, time to rest!"
you can't help but smile at how some of the hatchlings groan at mingi's words, but nonetheless all lay down in their little nooks. you and mingi go through and make sure each hatchling is comfortable before you leave the nesting room.
you watch as mingi closes the door behind him before he's offering his arm to you. you take his arm with a smile as he escorts the two of you back to the main palace wing.
"i meant what i said though," mingi begins and you look at him with a raised eyebrow, "that you have a right to be sad about those you lost, but also know that hatchlings are right as well and that you have all of us now. the hatchlings, me, wooyoung, yeosang, the others, and even the clan. you have all of us."
"thank you, prince mingi," you say, reaching up to press a kiss to his cheek and he smiles at you before quickly pressing his own kiss to your lips. "also," you speak up after you two continue to walk, "what did the little ones mean when they said its been years since you all had a yule dragon festival?"
"well... we haven't had one since hongjoong's parents and brother were killed. hongjoong didn't want to have a large one with the whole clan, so this is the first time in five years that we have celebrated it as such," mingi explains and you nod your head in understanding.
"what caused him to suddenly change his mind?"
"well you and wooyoung of course," you wanted to laugh at mingi's answer. more like just wooyoung, you think. you decide to remain silent as mingi guides you through the palace.
"this will be wooyoung's first yule dragon with an actual clan in years," you note as you notice many dragons setting up and decorating the palace corridors with festive decorations. you can't help but feel excited knowing that wooyoung will be able to experience the real thing after so many years of not having it with an actual clan.
your mind goes back to when you and wooyoung would celebrate together back at the cottage. both of you dressing up, decorating the cottage, and spending the entire night together. wooyoung taught you the dances that he learned. even when you weren't celebrating the dragon holiday, you would find wooyoung and yourself dancing and just enjoying each other's company.
"hey, mingi?" you caught the dragon's attention and he turns towards you as you continue to speak, "is there... a way i can help set up the festival?"
"oh! umm, i think so. seonghwa is usually in charge of things like this, but i volunteered to help him this time, so..."
"do you need help?" you ask, feeling an excitement bubble up in your stomach.
"of course you can help," mingi says, a wide smile on his face and you mirror his smile, beaming up at him. the two of you share a quick hug, mingi lets out a small laugh at your excitement, almost not expecting it.
"thank you," you say, pressing a kiss to his cheek before you are separating yourself from him. you notice the blush that covers his cheeks and ears and you have to stop yourself from pouncing on the tall dragon from how cute he is.
as the next week goes by, you spend your time helping the dragons in the clan to decorate for the yule dragon holiday. at first some of the dragons were reluctant at accepting your help, but slowly and eventually they allowed for you to help with the decorations. sure they didn't trust you with the important stuff, but that was okay.
you only wanted to make sure everything was perfect for wooyoung, he needed to have the best yule dragon after everything he has done for you. you also wanted to make sure the clan had a good one as well, but wooyoung took priority in your heart.
"wow, look at these decorations, darling," yeosang's voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you look down from your spot on the wooden ladder to see your lover looking up at you with a smile. you finish hanging the silver garland before climbing down the ladder and yeosang is quick to press a loving kiss to your lips.
"thank you, me and the hatchlings made them," you say, feeling rather proud from how all the decorations have been turning out. many of the other clan dragons complimenting you on your hard work.
"you've been working so hard, a lot of the clan members are grateful for your help," he says as the two of you begin walking out of the grand hall, where the yule gala will be held tomorrow night. other dragons are busy around you all finishing up last minute details, with most of them stopping to bow at yeosang before scurrying away to finish their task.
"i have something for you, princess," he says once the two of you are out of the grand hall and you give him a confused look which only makes him smile. "it’s custom for everyone to wear special outfits, rather a little too fancy if you ask me, but people really enjoy it," he begins as the two of you continue to walk down the hall.
"and i bet you completely forgot to make sure you are prepared for the gala," yeosang teases and you felt yourself get flustered at his words. "but don't worry because you wonderful mate has taken care of you," he says as you both stop in front of your chamber doors. "i hired a seamstress to make you a dress and thankfully she managed to finish it in time."
"wait, yeosang– you... you didn't, you shouldn't have."
"but i did, and i wanted to. my darling, you have done so much, let me give you this," he says, cupping your cheeks before leaning over and kissing you. you feel yourself melt into the kiss as you press yourself closer to your lover, arms wrapping around his waist. the two of you only separate when you're out of breath and yeosang presses one last kiss to your lips before he's pulling away and opening the door to your bedroom.
when you stepped inside, you were completely shocked at the dress that rested on the mannequin in the center of your room. you had honestly never seen a dress more beautiful in your life and you felt yourself tear up because of it. you felt like you didn't deserve a dress as gorgeous as this.
"it's beautiful, yeosang."
"you look absolutely beautiful, my fire," seonghwa says when he sees you walk into the grand hall.
the gala had been going on for several minutes, hongjoong lighting the ceremonial flame that burned in the center of the clan. you were amazed at the flame and its rather unique color, and mingi explained that this flame could only be lit by the leader of a clan and that it in order to celebrate the first dragon.
you honestly couldn't look away from the flame, almost like it was meant to entrance you.
"thank you, prince seonghwa," you said, bowing slightly to the eldest dragon prince. seonghwa could only smile as he took your hand into his before pressing a kiss to the back of your hand.
"make sure you enjoy yourself," he says, not yet letting go of your hand. "i want a dance before the night is over."
"of course, your highness," you say, a small smirk taking over your lips before seonghwa is nodding and making his leave. he does unfortunately have other people to see and talk to.
your eyes scan around the grand hall, looking for the head of familiar red hair and you feel your heart skip a beat when you finally find him. wooyoung looked absolutely handsome in his outfit and you were glad to see that he matched the other princes. it made your heart flutter knowing that wooyoung was being accepted by the clan.
you made your way over to your first lover, your feet picking up speed when you two made eye contact. you felt like it had been forever since you last seen wooyoung – however it had only been a few hours. you had been so caught up in making sure the festival and gala were perfect for him that you had completely forgot to pay the red-headed dragon attention.
so you immediately wrapped wooyoung in a tight hug once you were close enough. wooyoung was quick to return the hug, holding you close to him as he inhaled your scent before pressing a kiss to your neck.
"my y/n, you look so beautiful," he says as he twirls you around, the white-silver fabric that was decorated with beautiful shimmering stars and moons. wooyoung had seen the dress, yeosang having shown him before you and he knew you would look beautiful in it. but of course, seeing you actually in it he was blown away by your appearance.
"are you having a good time, woo?" you ask, heart beating rapidly waiting for his answer.
"of course i am," he says with a smile, "mingi mentioned how you helped out with this whole thing. any reason why?"
"you, of course," you say, both your hands linking with his. "this is your first yule dragon with an actual clan in a long time. i wanted to make sure it was perfect."
"oh love," he says, gently pulling the two of you off to the side, "you didn't need to do that. it would have perfect no matter what because i'm celebrating it with you. back at the cottage... i saw the two of us as our own little clan. and the yeosang joined," wooyoung says and you can't help but laugh at his last comment. despite mating and bonding with yeosang, wooyoung still couldn't get over the other dragon coming in basically setting up camp in your little cottage.
"you love yeosang, don't try to fool yourself," you tease and wooyoung grumbles a little bit before rolling his eyes.
"whatever."
you were about to say something when the sound of a familiar tune filled the grand hall. you turned to see a lot of the people gathering at the center and began dancing. you noticed mingi pulling yunho behind him to the dance floor with many of the other dragons cheering for the two tall princes. following them, you see yeosang and san dancing and you were a little surprised at seeing the blonde guard dancing and smiling as him and yeosang looked at one another.
"wow, who knew san could smile," wooyoung says and you crack a smile before turning to your lover.
"shall we join them as well?" you ask and wooyoung nods before he's pulling you towards the dance floor and you two quickly fall into a rhythm of the dance. the music easily guided you as you and wooyoung danced, you felt your whole attention center in on your lover and it felt like it was just the two of you.
you got flashbacks to when you and wooyoung would dance in your cottage. how back then it really was just the two of you and no one else, but now you were surrounded by people that even if they all didn't welcome you, they welcomed wooyoung. and even if you didn't feel welcomed at first, you have mingi, yeosang, the hatchlings.
seeing wooyoung smile and laugh and enjoy himself made you feel like you were on cloud nine. even if he wouldn't say it out loud, you knew wooyoung enjoyed being a part of the clan.
you felt the music guide you and your thoughts, as the music began to slow down you found yourself and wooyoung also slowing down. wooyoung pulling you close to him, his arm coming to wrap around your waist to hold you close to him.
"i have you had your ceremony?" wooyoung suddenly asks, snapping you out of your happy daze. you knew immediately what he was talking about.
"not yet, i was waiting till after the gala was over," you say, feeling a lump form in your throat at knowing what you would have to do later.
just like dragons, witches also had their own traditions and such. not as public as the yule dragon, but more intimate to each witch. celebrating those that you left you in this world. wooyoung has been with you during this ceremony like you have been with him for his. you don't know how many nights you have fallen asleep, crying in wooyoung's arms because of all the witches that have died.
"do you want me there with you?" he asks, and it takes you a moment to think about it.
"no, i'll do it alone this time."
"are you sure?" you nod your head, you didn't want to ruin wooyoung's good time here with your own traditions and ceremonies.
when the music changed once again, you pressed a kiss to wooyoung before stepping away, telling him you needed some fresh air.
"let me come with you," he says as he starts to trail after you, but you stop him.
"it’s okay," you say, hand out to stop him, "i'll be right back."
you don't give wooyoung a chance to say anything as you're turning and making your way to one of the many garden doors that lead out into the courtyard.
once the cold air hit your skin, you let out a sigh as you made your way over to one of the stone benches that overlooked most of the courtyard and even down further into the clan. the yule flame burned brightly a short distance away and you couldn't help but walk over to it. the flame reminded you of the flame that you would light for the umbra ceremony.
the flame burned brightly and you almost felt like a moth from how you were being drawn to it.
which is how you found yourself in front of it. the noises from the grand hall behind you is like static as you look at the flame, letting it consume you. you got flashbacks to when you would set up a room of candles for the witches that you lost, the flame from those candles burning brightly into your mind.
"why are you out here," the cold voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you turn to look at hongjoong with wide eyes. the prince looks at you with a stern expression, his cold eyes burning into your body.
"i was just... just getting some air," you tell him, refusing to fully make eye contact with him.
hongjoong lets out a 'tsk' sound before he's coming to stand next to you, looking up at the flame. you're surprised by how close hongjoong, this is probably the closest he has ever gotten to you without trying to kill you.
"mingi told me how you helped decorate for the festival," he said out of nowhere after the two of you stood in silence. "i guess witches can be good for something," he adds and you feel yourself deflate at his harsh words.
"i did it for wooyoung," you said wanting to make it clear that you were only doing it for your first love and no one else. "this is his first yule dragon with an actual clan in years," you add.
"and i'm sure witches are the reason why he had gone for so long without experiencing one with a clan," he says back.
"perhaps," you say as you clench your fist together tightly, "but wooyoung is here now with a clan," you turn your head to look at hongjoong, taking in his form once more. his lavish outfit and vibrant blue hair standing out against the dark night. he was the epitome of what a leader of a dragon clan should be in the fact that he always had that air of authority around him. everyone respected him and if they didn't respect him then they feared him.
you, unfortunately, feared him more than you respected him. the dragon oracles say that you two are mates like you are with the rest of the princes, but you knew hongjoong refused to acknowledge you as his mate. you were a witch, the thing that killed his parents and brother and forced him to take the role of leader too soon. you wondered if you and hongjoong would ever get along.
you notice how the flame reflects against hongjoong's skin and then something hits you.
"please excuse me, prince hongjoong," you say suddenly before you are rushing past him. hongjoong doesn't say anything and you don't know if he watches you leave as you are too caught up in rushing back into the palace.
you run to your room, feeling out of breath as you enter your chambers you share with wooyoung before going over to the large trunk that rested at the foot of the bed. you quickly dig through the trunk and pull out a set of candles. all three a beautiful rose color and it reminds you greatly of your mother.
"what are these for mother?" you asked, looking up at your mother as she handed you the three candles. they were different from the ones you were use to lightly for the umbra ceremony and you wondered why she was giving them to you.
"these are special candles, y/n, i made them myself so you can use them when you need them the most," she explains, her voice seeming ever cryptic.
"when i need them the most?" you echo and she nods, a tight-lipped smile painting her features.
"they are for the one who will need to say goodbye the most."
you gripped the candles tightly as you raced back to the courtyard and was surprised to still see hongjoong standing there. somewhere deep inside wants you to believe he waited for you, but you know that's impossible.
"prince hongjoong," you say as you approach him. "i want to thank you for letting wooyoung into your home. i know that... you despise me and my people, you lost your parents and brother after all. and i know you probably don't care but i want to share something with you."
hongjoong turns to look at you, his face void of emotion as he watches you set the three candles down between the two of you. you crouch down, kneeling front of the candles as hongjoong stands towering above you.
"the umbra witches have their own ceremony, we light candles in order to remember those that have left us and this world. we do this as a way to remind us that while they have left this world physically, they are still here with us spiritually," you pause in order to take a deep breath, licking your lips before continuing.
"my mother made me these candles when she was still alive. she told me that they were for someone who needed to say goodbye, and... i think she made them for you."
"what the hell are you talking about?" hongjoong asks, voice full of surprise and anger. "i don't need any of you stupid umbra witch shit," he adds and you notice his fist clenches with his rage.
"please," you beg, voice straining as you plead with the prince, "take the candles, it will bring you peace, prince hongjoong."
you feel a sudden shock as you are grabbed by the collar of your dress. you're pulled up from your kneeling position, face dangerously close to an enraged hongjoong as he bares his teeth at you. in the moment you are reminded that you are at the mercy of a clan full of dragons whether you liked it or not.
"i will never," he jaw clenched tightly as he speaks, "ever, forgive your damned people for what they did to my family. my people. so don't think so damned candles will change that. you will never be my mate and just know that if it wasn't for yeosang and mingi that i would have burned you at a stake a long fucking time ago."
hongjoong waste no time in throwing you to the ground, your hands skidding across the stone pathway harshly and you flinch at the sudden burn of skin. you turn to see hongjoong's eye burning, like he will kill you if you say anything else to him.
you then watch him destroy two of the candles, his foot coming down harshly on them and you feel like a part of you is being ripped apart as you watch him. he's about to do the same to the last one, but you move and grab the last candle. the last one your mother made.
then without thinking you stand up and run away from the prince. you clearly made a mistake in thinking that you could get hongjoong to open up just a little bit. you felt tears begin to form in your eyes as you ran, clutching the candle close to your chest as you collapsed in the one of the many decorated halls.
you looked down at the candle once more, the image of your mother's smile flashing inside your mind as you caressed it. you knew this candle was for hongjoong. he was the one who needed to say goodbye to those he lost, but it was obvious that now wasn't the time.
"y/n!" the sudden call of your name makes you snap your head up to see yeosang rushing towards you. face full of concern and he drops down to the floor next to you. "y/n, what's wrong, why are you crying?" he brushes the tears away and you open your mouth to say something before a sob escapes instead.
you throw yourself into his arms and he arms them around you protectively. you hold your mother's candle close to you as you allow yourself to cry in yeosang's arms. yeosang doesn't say anything, only letting you cry as a comforting hand runs over your hair.
"it's okay, y/n, i'm here," he says softly, holding you closer to him. "whatever made you sad, don't think about it anymore, okay? cause i'm here to protect you."
and so the night comes to an end as you spend the rest of it in yeosang's arms, allowing him to hold you closely as you mourn for the loss of your mother and the hate hongjoong bares for you.
Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.
Part 5 | Fic Masterlist | Part 7
"Please enjoy your meal, master and mistress. We hope the dishes are to your liking." The servants bowed before leaving the hall after serving dinner for the night.
Sitting up straight, hands folded on your lap, you patiently awaited Seonghwa to begin eating. The enticing aroma of the dishes made your mouth water, and your eyes gleamed as you observed your husband's hands reaching for his chopsticks.
He noticed your gaze, smiled, and rather than taking a piece of meat for himself, he surprised you by placing it in your bowl instead, "Eat up; you must be hungry."
The general sighed as he saw you hesitating to start eating until he had taken the first bite. Amused, he set down his chopsticks and watched as you slumped in your seat, seemingly disappointed that he hadn't begun eating yet.
"Why are you still sitting around? Go ahead and eat," He said, and your eyes widened, "But, my lord, how can I—"
Shaking his head, he picked up his spoon and reached for a tofu dish he had noticed you eyeing for some time, scooping up just enough before holding it to your lips, "Here, you want this, don't you?" Before you could protest, he pushed it closer to you, "Open up before I change my mind," and you couldn't resist, taking a bite.
Eunsook couldn't help snickering into her fist as she witnessed the adorable interaction. You chewed cluelessly on your food, eyes sparkling as you savoured the flavour, while Seonghwa continued to eat with the same spoon, indirectly sharing a kiss with you.
Throughout dinner, your husband focused more on taking care of you, he filled your bowl with a variety of dishes and wiped the corners of your lips whenever your excitement caused a mess. After finishing his own meal, he continued to watch you with admiration as you kept eating.
Concern crept in when he noticed your movements slowing down, and you started breathing rather heavily. It seemed like you were already full but were pushing yourself to eat more, "Hey, slow down. Are you full? You need to stop eating if you are."
You shook your head, reaching for another slice of rolled omelette. Furrowing his brows, he realised you were struggling to swallow. Why were you continuing to eat if you were already so full? It was as if you didn't know when your next meal would be, and you were trying to consume as much as possible for the time being.
"Stop, stop," He repeated firmly, gently holding your wrist and taking the chopsticks from your hand, "Look at me," You took your eyes off the food and finally met his gaze, "Are you afraid you won't get to eat again?" You avoided eye contact and that confirmed his suspicion, it broke his heart to see you still in survival mode.
Feeling like you had done something wrong, you bowed your head and nervously fiddled with your fingers, "I-I'm sorry... I just have never had a proper meal like this before, a-and..."
"You have nothing to be sorry for," He assured, moving to hold your hands and rubbing his thumb over your skin comfortingly, "You're the mistress of this estate now. You can eat anything you want at any time. All you have to do is call for the servants, and they will serve you. As long as I live, you never have to worry about not being able to eat again, you hear me?"
You nodded, moved by the sincerity in his tone and the warmth in his touch and gaze, "I understand. Thank you, my lord."
However, he seemed unsatisfied with something you said, contemplating for a moment before murmuring, "Seonghwa. Just Seonghwa, please."
Your eyes widened, "Wh-what?"
He looked away from your questioning gaze, embarrassed, "You're my wife now, there's no need to be so formal. Just call me Seonghwa from now on."
"Okay... S-Seonghwa." You muttered unsurely, suppressing the blush on your cheeks as he lifted his eyes to stare at you in wonder.
Little did you know, the sound of his name coming from you melted his heart, further deepening the growing affection he had for you. Though it had only been a day or two since he met you, and despite his initial misguided disdain, once he learned the truth about you, an irrational desire to protect you took root within him. For the first time in forever, he found someone worth caring for.
As much as the head maid enjoyed watching the two of you exchange deep gazes all night, the rest of the servants in charge of the dining hall were waiting to clear up and get some rest.
With a loud clearing of her throat, she finally broke you both out of your little staring contest, "Master, mistress, are you finished with dinner? It's getting rather late now, we should probably make haste and clean up the hall before we attract all sorts of insects."
Suddenly remembering that you weren't alone in the hall, the general swiftly collected himself from his slightly flustered state, "Of course, send the maids in. Is the mistress' new quarters prepared?" He checked with Eunsook, moving to help you out of your seat with your hand still in his.
The elderly woman, with a concealed smile, nodded and bowed, "It is, master. I'll leave it to you to show mistress to her room then."
You waved to her as you followed your husband out of the hall, "Thank you for the food, Eunsook. Please tell the kitchen staff they did a wonderful job; every dish was incredibly tasty!"
She nodded with a beam, bowing again, "Yes, mistress. They'll be happy to hear that."
Leading you along, Seonghwa made an effort to appear composed, attempting to hide the joy he felt from walking with your hands intertwined. The passing servants were surprised at the rare sight of their master and mistress walking hand in hand. As they bowed, their smiles widened when you waved at them, and the general's soft chuckle didn't escape their notice.
It amused them how resolute he had initially been about getting rid of you, and now he seemed to have a hard time tearing his eyes away from you for even a moment.
"Come on, you'll love the new quarters," He said, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. You raised your eyebrows, "But what about my previous room? That was fine too."
He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly at the sudden reminder of The Cold Palace, "Well, I may have broken the door, but that's not the point. The point is that you are now officially my wife, and Lady Park deserves nothing but the best, understood?" You nodded, simply feeling grateful for everything.
"We're here. Welcome to the House of Lotus."
Your jaw dropped at the sight of the beautiful private garden surrounding what was to be your new quarters. A pavilion on the right of the main chamber faced a small pond filled with lotus flowers, "You can relax over there, have some tea and read when the weather is good. This is all yours. If you ever need me for anything, I'm just down the path; we're practically neighbours."
The general panicked when he saw your eyes welling up with tears, releasing your hand to grasp your shoulders, "D-do you not like it? We can arrange a different one for you if you want—"
Shaking your head, you sniffled, "N-no, it's not that. I j-just can't believe this is really all mine. Th-thank you so much, Seonghwa..."
He breathed out in relief, pulling you into his arms as you cried into his neck, "What did I say, you silly girl? Only the best for you." He gazed around in satisfaction; he had intentionally requested his maids to arrange the room closest to his private quarters, wanting to be near you.
Aside from that, the abundance of lotus flowers in this specific area earned it the nickname House of Lotus. Known for its connection with purity, rebirth, and divinity, the lotus flower symbolises rising from a dark place into beauty and rebirth, mirroring its growth process. This was precisely what the general had envisioned for you—a metaphorical representation of new beginnings and a fresh start.
"Master, we have come to prepare mistress for bed. Do we have permission to proceed?"
"Of course, I'll leave you to it then." Your husband had no choice but to leave you as the group of servants assigned to you for the night arrived, hands carrying bath supplies, Yunho's prepared ointment for your wounds, and a fresh piece of nightgown.
"Have a good rest tonight, my dear. We're paying the dressmaker a visit tomorrow; we're getting you new clothes." He pressed a firm kiss onto your head and did not leave until he was sure you had entered the room, reluctantly heading towards his study to wait for updates from Jongho.
Reaching for the Jang family records he had hidden from you earlier, he got back to work. With the week off granted by the King for him to celebrate his wedding, Seonghwa was determined to gather as much intel as he could before setting his plans into motion, "Just you wait, minister. Savour the peace while you still can."
Just when the general believed he had prepared himself to learn the extent of the abuse you had endured throughout your life, he managed to keep his rage in check as he listened to the harrowing details. However, nothing could have prepared him for the new revelation that his aide brought to him.
His disgust for the Minister of Military Affairs, already intense, reached new heights with the secret he had just uncovered. The assistant bowed his head as his master broke into a grin of disbelief, "And here, I thought I was labelled the heartless monster. Clearly, the minister is the rightful owner of the title."
Pointing towards the copy of your family records on his desk, Seonghwa inquired, "What about this? Have you been able to confirm the suspicions I have about those three she-devils?"
Jongho shook his head, "Not yet, sir. We'll need evidence to prove your theory; we might have to dig deeper. Just getting someone to talk about it might not be sufficient for your plan to succeed."
The general nodded, "It's alright, Jongho. We still have some time. So long as we have that piece of evidence before I return to work next week, is that doable?"
After a brief moment of contemplation, his aide replied, "Yes, I think that should be enough time. If that is all for now, I'll be taking my leave, sir."
"Thank you, Jongho. You may go."
Left alone with his thoughts, your husband resisted the urge to run to you immediately. He felt so angry for you that he could almost cry. The depth of your suffering was unimaginable to him, and all he wanted was to embrace you, shield you from the harsh and cruel world, and erase the pain and traumatic memories.
Clutching the book with your family crest, he glared at your father's name, imagining all the ways he could take the old man out.
I promise you, my dear. I'll make them pay.
At the same time, he couldn't stop beating himself up for the way he had treated you on your first day here. His heart ached as he recalled you travelling this far all on your own, only to face continuous mistreatment from him. Even if you had already forgiven him—you weren't even angry at him in the first place, you had to be crazy for that—Seonghwa would never forgive himself for his actions. He would be spending the rest of his days trying to make up for it.
That night, he experienced another restless bout of sleep, tossing and turning as the endless imagined scenes of you being tortured, starved, and treated like cattle haunted his mind. At some point during the night, he couldn't resist the impulse and walked over to your quarters, standing by the entrance like a fool, contemplating whether he should knock.
But he quickly realised that you must not have had any decent rest for who knows how long, and here he was, on the verge of disturbing you just because he couldn't sleep. Gosh, how selfish could he be?
He trudged back to his own room, trying to focus on the thought of you being soundly asleep in your new and comfy bed. Thankfully, this image managed to bring a smile to his face, and just like that, he gradually joined you in dreamland.
"Good morning, mistress! We're here to help you get ready. May we please enter?" Your eyes fluttered open as Eunsook's voice reached you, and a yawn escaped your mouth after having what felt like the most amazing sleep for the first time in years.
You were tempted to hop off your bed and rush to open the door for them, but then you remembered you weren't supposed to do so. Clearing your throat, you answered politely, "Yes, you may enter."
The servants bowed, unable to hide their smiles upon seeing you sitting up on your bed, still marvelling at the grand interior of your new room despite having already spent one night there.
Unbeknownst to you, the maids had been competing to be chosen to serve you. In just your third day here, you had become the most precious figure in the entire estate, and everyone wished to work under you. This particular group of maids had been selected, and their excitement was palpable as they enthusiastically bathed, dressed, and fixed your hair and makeup for the day.
On the other hand, the less fortunate few found themselves assigned to prepare the general for the day. Especially now, with Jongho, the only one capable of handling Seonghwa, engaged in special duties elsewhere, they had no choice but to put up with their master, even as their hearts yearned to be in the House of Lotus.
The morning unfolded with remarkable ease, thanks to your presence. Your husband proved more manageable than usual, his typical grogginess dissipating as he witnessed your excitement over breakfast. It made him both happy and sad—happy to see you so easily satisfied but sad at the realisation of the deprivation you had endured. Your genuine appreciation for even the most basic necessities was a testament to your difficult past.
Repeatedly, he had to remind himself that your history was just that—history. There was nothing he could do to alter it. But he was your present and future, and he would do everything to ensure you had nothing but the best moving forward.
Having already provided you with the best quarters on his estate, the next step was to adorn you in the finest clothes in all of Joseon. Whether or not you arrived with clothing from your old home was irrelevant to him; he would have burned every piece of it to the ground regardless. His goal now was to ensure that, at first sight, everyone would recognise you as the esteemed and beloved wife of the terrifying General Park.
Waiting for you by his carriage, he was not disappointed by your reaction to the vehicle as he assisted you inside. Your eyes widened, and your jaw fell in astonishment as you took in the spacious interior. Usually, he kept the carriage's small windows closed, but anticipating your excitement, he left them open. A subtle smile played on his lips as you gazed in awe at the passing scenery.
Cute.
The dressmaker's shop was situated in the middle of a lively street in town, requiring the two of you to cover the remaining distance on foot while the carriage and its coachmen awaited your return. Accompanied by two servants trailing closely behind, the four of you began making your way through the bustling crowd.
While Seonghwa found himself irritated by the unending stares drawn by both of your extraordinary visuals, your attention was captivated by the surroundings.
This marked your first visit to the town, evident from your childlike fascination, a source of amusement for the observing servants who shared delighted giggles. Throughout the journey, your husband ensured a tight grip on your hand, apprehensive about the possibility of losing you in the busy crowd.
The commoners, oblivious to your identities, continued their activities nonchalantly. Little did they know they were looking at the famous General Park and his new wife. If your true status were known, the street might have cleared within seconds.
Growing weary of the continuous gazes, the general promptly guided you towards the shop he intended to visit.
Upon entering, you were captivated by the array of colourful and elegant hanbok on display. The servants remained close by, engaging in lively discussions about their preferred designs. Typically, Seonghwa would disapprove of his employees being so casual around him, but witnessing the joy on your face as you excitedly joined in on their conversation, he couldn't bring himself to reprimand the two maids. Sighing, he moved further into the establishment, searching for the owner.
Spotting the familiar back hunched over work at the rear of the salon, he couldn't help but roll his eyes before saying, "I still don't understand why you won't hire a helper. You could be robbed in broad daylight, for all we know. You weren't even aware you have a customer, being busy back here."
Turning around with a raised brow, the dressmaker countered, "You're wrong, Park Seonghwa. I didn't bother heading out because I knew it was you. That's how good I am, and that's why I don't need to spend unnecessarily on a helper."
Before the general stood an old friend from his early military days, one who had decided the life of a soldier was not his path and had pursued his passion in fashion, "Yes, yes. It's nice to see you too, Kim Hongjoong. Good to know you haven't changed much."
The shorter man grinned deviously at his friend's sarcastic response, glancing at you, "Aye, I haven't. Unlike you, General Park."
Hongjoong set his tools down and continued, "Heard you finally got married, and I didn't believe it, not until today. That lovely woman over there, that's her, isn't it? She must be quite the special one for you to accompany her all this way. This isn't like you at all. The Seonghwa I know would never waste his time coming here."
If there was one thing your husband did not miss about his friend, it was his relentless teasing. He rolled his eyes again when it went on, "You know, I really thought I'd never get to see you again, but here you are, all because of her."
Seonghwa crossed his arms over his chest, "One more word from you, Hongjoong, and you can kiss this business deal goodbye. Don't come crying to me when I end up employing another dressmaker for all of my wife's clothing."
Jaws falling slack, Hongjoong exclaimed, "Hold on, did I hear that right? All of your wife's clothing?"
The general smirked, "Yes, you heard correctly. I'm hiring you for the long term, enough for you to shut down your shop and work exclusively for my estate."
Hongjoong chuckled, "Closing my shop might be a stretch, but a steady income is tempting. I'm on board. You have good taste, Seonghwa. I assure you won't regret hiring me. I'll make Lady Park the most beautiful woman in all of Joseon, mark my words."
"Excellent. I'm counting on it, Hongjoong."
As pleased as your husband was to have secured a reliable dressmaker for you, there are moments when he regrets such decisions. He experiences a sense of déjà vu as he observes you interacting with his friend, recalling the uneasy feeling he had witnessing your reaction to Yunho.
"My lady, it seems my task is already defined. Your beauty is already exceptional, and I'm afraid I won't have to work too hard to enhance it at all." Hongjoong has always been quite the charmer, and Seonghwa disliked that he was using it on you, his wife, of all people.
The blush on your face, as adorable as it was, irked the general at the moment, as he wasn't the reason for it. He watched, unamused, as the dressmaker smugly took your measurements.
Contrary to your calm and oblivious demeanour, the two maids were keenly aware of their master's internal fury, manifested in the glares he shot at his friend. They trembled at the thought of his wrath, unaware that Hongjoong was the only one audacious enough to tease the general without fearing severe consequences. The two had always shared what people termed a love-hate relationship.
Other than you, your husband and the servants felt a sense of relief once the dressmaker completed noting your measurements, checking your design preferences, and determining which colours suited your skin tone best.
"Alright, it looks like we're done for now. I'll do my best to deliver the first batch of dresses to your estate by next week. Is that okay?" Seonghwa softened as soon as he recognised his friend's serious and professional side, nodding quickly, "That sounds perfect. Thank you, Hongjoong."
The shorter man gave him a sincere smile, "No, thank you, Seonghwa. I mean it in a good way when I say you've changed. Your wife is lovely, by the way. I'll be seeing you soon, my friend."
As the four of you made your way out of the shop, the general's irritation resurfaced as quickly as it had dissipated just moments ago when Hongjoong sent you a flirty wink, "Have a safe journey back. I can't wait to see you again, Lady Park."
Cutting short your innocent wave, Seonghwa swiftly wrapped a strong arm around your back and guided you away, not missing his friend's annoying laughter, "Let's go; the carriage is waiting." He grumbled, jealousy and petty anger flooding his veins.
But those emotions vanished as soon as you both got into the vehicle, the rhythmic rocking motion lulling you into drowsiness. In your sleepy state, your head landed on his shoulder, and you whispered, "Thank you, Seonghwa. I had fun today."
He pulled you closer, ensuring your comfort, and pressed his lips against your hair.
"Anything for you, my wife."
« Preview of Part 7 »
"Can you all believe this? Just a few days into marriage, and the general has already sent word to His Majesty that he has an important agenda to discuss in our next assembly?" The minister guffawed, downing a glass of rice wine in amusement.
His wife grinned slyly, "Do you reckon it has anything to do with her?"
"Oh, I bet it has everything to do with her!" Jinah chortled.
"He must have been so disgusted by the sight of her bare from all that makeup," Jinhee shook her head before panicking, "Wait a damn minute, what if he asks to swap her for one of us?"
Jinjoo whined, "Father, you better not agree to that if it happens!"
"You silly girls, your father would never let any of that happen. Right, honey?" Their mother drawled, curling up to her husband seductively. The mere thought of your potential misery brought them satisfaction.
Minister Jang nodded, "Don't worry, girls. Knowing Park Seonghwa, he most likely would not entertain the idea or ask for anything like that. We'll just have to wait and see what he wishes to talk about. This should be interesting."
"That better be the case." Jinhee muttered, arms crossed.
Jinah smirked, "Or who knows, he's already disposed of her and decided the only right thing to do is to report it."
Cruel laughter echoed through the dining hall of the Jang estate as your family speculated on the possible whereabouts of your remains. None of them noticed the mole within their staff, attentively listening to every word.
I know you're all probably dying to know Minister Jang's secret but what fun will it be for y'all to find out so soon, am I right?😝 Not to worry though, I promise it'll all be revealed in due time.
Thank you so much for 900+ followers! As always, hope you enjoyed and let me know all your thoughts! <3
Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.
Warnings: angst, language, violence, death, gore, mentions of guns and cannons. The characters in this story are purely fictitious and do not portray actual people.
AN: italics are thoughts
Word count: ~3.8k
Summary: Women are considered bad luck upon the vessels that sail the Seven Seas. Before you became the captain of The Astraea, a witch of sorts cursed you and the crew leaving a physical mark upon your chest just above where your heart would lie. Anyone that sees the Black Standard flying on the black and gold ship knows that they have stumbled upon the Armada of the Damned which is piloted by the Buccaneer Queen.
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»»————- ➴ ————-««
Previously on The Buccaneer Queen:
Opening the drawer on the table, he begins to look for thread and a needle but stops. Turning to look at you, he watches the way your skin begins to sew itself back together.
"Neat trick," Seonghwa murmurs, opting for a rag and clean water. At least he can clean the healed wound at your shoulder.
Arms dangling off his knees, he lets his head hang, just sitting on a barrel beside the table you lay on, lost in thought.
It's when he feels a hand brush his hair back from his forehead that he sits up in shock.
You wear a tired smile, but it's genuine. A raspy 'thank you' leaves your lips. A small smile settles on his face as he grabs a hold of your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.
»»————- ➴ ————-««
Yunho has already gone back up to the main deck with Jamie, who looked especially relieved to see you resting, to help with the remaining tasks as they begin the long trip out into open water while Seonghwa remains with you in the sick bay.
It's been a few hours since you've been brought aboard and have since been covered with a blanket. It felt wrong to force you to put a shirt on after the whole ordeal you had gone through. It also just felt wrong to not cover you at all, for Goddess' sake, even if he was a pirate he was still a gentleman.
Figuring you were going to be out for a while, Seonghwa stood from the stool he had been perched on and stretched, groaning when he felt the satisfying crack in his back. Casting you a quick glance he strode out of the sick bay in search of food from the galley.
His weary eyes took note of his crew members milling about the galley of The Treasure. Even with his short time on the Astera he had gotten used to his new ship, but now it was a little jarring being back on the ship that he called home.
"Hwa!" Wooyoung called from one of the bench tables, beckoning him to join the rest of them as they ate a small dinner.
Dragging his feet he made his way over, and Hongjoong slid a plate over to his first mate.
"You should eat something," was all his captain said, before picking up his own food again.
Seonghwa gave a nod as he observed the dried meats and bread on his plate. A thought had crossed his mind then, that the bread must be stale at this point considering how long they've been away. They'd need to stop at a port for new rations.
"How is our lady captain?" Mingi asked, mouth full of bread.
Swallowing the lump of food, Seonghwa answered tiredly, "She's doing fine. Resting in one of the sick beds."
"Why the sudden change of heart? Didn't you hate her or something?" Wooyoung asked, only to receive a swift elbow in his ribs by Yeosang.
Seonghwa just shrugged. Truly, he didn't quite know where he stood with you or what he thought of you. You did save his captain and all and forced them into the dinghies while you stayed and went down with the Astraea.
The rest of the meal was brief, not much talking after the events that transpired, just hushed whispers here and there. Seonghwa was honestly tired of the murmurs of both crews and decided to refill his plate once more before excusing himself from the table.
It's not much but he had a plate of stale bread, dried meat, and a glass of water for you. It was better than nothing.
Pushing the door open with his hip he was greeted with an empty infirmary. Just his luck, his own patient was now missing. Letting his head fall back he lets out a deep sigh, there hasn't been much time for rest as he's been dealing with a swirling guilt in his stomach, but he also realizes that this isn't the time for self pity. Straightening his shoulders, he turns around with hopes of finding you quickly. How hard can that be, it's not like there's many places for you to go on a ship.
»»————- ➴ ————-««
Climbing the last few steps to the top deck he finds you where he thought he would. Coincidentally, it happens to be where they found you on their first night on the Astraea, standing on the bow of the ship's railing.
"Thought I'd find you out here," Seonghwa says, as he comes to a stop just off to your left.
Your eyes don't break away from the dark, swirling water in front of you, but you do give the dark haired pirate a small nod.
It's silent for a moment before he speaks again, "I went to look for you in the sick bay, but you were gone."
"I just needed some fresh air," you answer, your toes curl against the railing as if to ground yourself. "How long was I asleep?"
You can hear Seonghwa hum behind you, "After we last spoke? Probably half a day's worth has gone by."
You grimace as you realize how inconvenient that probably was for people to deal with.
When you don't answer, Seonghwa speaks again. "I came to bring you some food. It's not much, but it's all we have until we reach another port."
Hearing that you glance over your shoulder at him. It’s slow going, but your foot pivots and then you’re landing softly on the deck of the ship. You glance up at the man next to you, but his gaze remains fixed to the dark horizon, much like what you were doing moments prior to him joining you. The only indication that he’s paying any sort of attention is the plate being slid on the railing to you. Murmuring a quick ‘thanks', you pick up the bread, the crust is tough so you dip it in the glass that Seonghwa offers you. The water helps soften the crust, but you can feel the dryness coat your tongue as you munch on the bread. Setting down the small roll you opt to nibble on the salted meat instead.
The silence stretches between you two as you finish your meal, only after is the silence broken by Seonghwa.
“Yeosang found a merchant island not too far from where we are, called the Port Ame,” he still doesn’t look at you. You take note of the distant look in his eyes and wonder where his thoughts are at, but you know better than to pry.
Truthfully, you don’t know where your relationship with the helmsman stands. There isn’t a lot of trust between the two of you, but something changed within the last day. Humming to yourself, you decide that you won’t press the issue, at least not yet.
“You should get some rest Seonghwa, you’ve done a lot since being back on your ship,” your voice is gentle, quiet. You can see the weariness that rolls off him, the way his shoulders are slumped and the bags that are under his eyes.
There’s not much spoken, but you hear a noncommittal hum from him. It just encourages you to give him a small push back towards the entrance of the lower deck. He continues a few steps before stopping and turning around, surprised to see you already watching him.
“Where will you go?” he asks.
“I’ll go back to the med bay when I’m ready. It won’t be much longer,” you tell him, hands clasping together in front of you.
He nods once more, a quiet ‘goodnight’ following him, one that you return.
Your gaze returns to the horizon again as you think about what Seonghwa had told you. You’d soon find yourself at the island that always rains.
»»————- ➴ ————-««
You awake to a knock on the door of the med bay, and a head of lavender hair.
“Good morning, Wooyoung,” you greet him, as you finish tying off your hair into a loose braid.
“Morning to you Captain,” Wooyoung smiles.
“Just YN, I’m not a captain anymore,” you tell him, with a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. You can see his smile falter a little before he sets it again.
“Ah, okay,” He fully opens the door for you, “Hongjoong would like a word with you.”
Dusting the imaginary dirt off the borrowed breeches you make your way to Wooyoung, “Then let’s not keep the Captain waiting. Lead the way.”
There’s a strange atmosphere as you are led through the Treasure, everyone being happier than normal to see you. The interactions cause a small crease to form in your brow.
Reaching the door to Hongjoong’s quarters, Wooyoung turns to look at you and notices the confusion settling between your eyes.
Rubbing a thumb over the spot he murmurs, “Everyone is just relieved to see that you’re doing well. Most haven’t seen you up since bringing you on board the ship.”
Your mouth forms a silent ‘o’ at this, and you can’t help wondering how much distress you caused your crew and Hongjoong’s.
Before you get the chance to ask, Wooyoung is knocking on the door and striding away to head to his post.
You hear a “come in” before you push the door open. Yeosang is leaning over Hongjoong’s shoulder pointing out something on a map before they both look up to greet you.
“Thank you Yeo, we can discuss this some more later,” Hongjoong tells him.
“Of course, Joong,” he’s gathering up the parchment on the table and putting them under his arms. As he passes you, he gives your hand a small squeeze before excusing himself from the quarters.
Hongjoong moves from his seat to stand in front of you, you who had only taken a few steps into the cabin.
“How are you feeling?” Hongjoong asks, gently picking up your hand.
Oddly intimate, you think, as you look at how he holds your hand so delicately, carefully tracing his thumb over the back of your hand.
“I’m as well as I can be,” you answer truthfully. You’re clearly alive at the cost of your ship, thankfully no one was lost to sea while it sank.
He’s silent for a moment before phrasing it again. “How is your condition?” It comes out almost like a whisper.
“No different than before,” you tell him. The weight of the souls that you carry has stayed the same.
“Good,” he nods, and pulls you with him towards the chairs near the desk.
He pulls out the chair in front of his desk for you, and you take a seat. Watching as he moves around the desk to his own chair.
“Wooyoung said you wanted to speak with me?” you ask, trying to get rid of the intimate atmosphere he created, even though you enjoyed the care he held your hand with.
“Right to business I see,” Hongjoong says, straightening himself out. “I wanted to thank you for taking a bullet for me.”
“It was nothing really,” you murmur, picking up a compass and spinning it against the wood of the desk.
Hongjoong watches you closely before continuing, “Why didn’t you try to come with us? We could’ve all fit on the lifeboat.”
Stopping your ministrations, you look up at him, “To ensure the safety of my fa- crew.”
You can see the way his features pull down in a frown, as if he doesn’t believe you.
“To ensure our safety you say,” Hongjoong spits your words back at you, “I watched you fall overboard. Do you know how helpless I felt not being able to grab you? To save you?”
Mouth agape you stare at him. You honestly had no idea you made the ruthless Pirate King feel helpless in that moment.
“Of course you wouldn’t know,” Hongjoong said, covering his face with his hand as he slumped back into his chair.
The silence between you stretches that all you can hear are the waves slapping the sides of the ship and the thundering of your heartbeat beating in your ears. Normally, you'd feel calm and composed in most situations, but whatever has transpired since your ship sank and seeing Seungcheol on The Diamond has rattled you to your core.
"Tell me something," Hongjoong asks, leaning forward and propping his elbows on the desk hands clasped together concealing the bottom half of his face.
Your gaze drifts to him as you wait for him to continue.
"What does the captain of The Diamond mean to you?"
"Do you mean besides what he owes me?" You ask, feigning nonchalance by leaning back in the cushioned chair you're sitting on.
"What else would cause you to be so angry over a man?" Eyes boring into yours, he presses on, "Something happened that's much deeper than you're letting on."
You chew the inside of your lip as you finally manage to break your gaze with him. Why, why does he have to be so observant?
"What are you trying to find Hongjoong? What possible good comes from knowing about past relations?" You counter.
Hongjoong's stare is hard as he gazes at you. Trying to find out why you're deflecting the topic so much. Why does it bother you so much?
"The safety of everyone on board relies on knowing. Knowing what kind of madness we are all getting into," he tells you, finally dropping his hands to the table.
Your eyes follow the movements of his hands, and you don't lift your gaze from them. You watch the tick in the top of his hand as he presses them together, maybe to contain his frustration with you. The lack of information he needs because you won't give a straight answer.
Releasing a sigh, you let your shoulder slump. Maybe it'll be better to share the burden, you think.
"We were together romantically. He was someone I thought would keep me safe. Treasure the bond we shared, but he was a coward," your voice comes out quiet, but in the quiet quarters of Hongjoong’s room it seems so loud.
"He was the one that outed me to the witch all those years ago," your voice begins to raise as you remember that night.
»»————- ➴ ————-««
Your captain's ship was caught in the middle of a nasty storm as your ship was transporting an elderly woman to a new port. You remember taking an inventory of the various herbs, wraps, and other various medicinal supplies in the medicine drawers within the small cabin. One hand gingerly fingered through the supplies while the other laid comfortably over your midsection. The rattling of metal equipment in glass jars locked away on a cupboard kept you company as you logged what you'd need to pick up from Ame.
The sound of the wooden door to the sick bay cracked against a barrel as it was flung open, a screech following soon after startling you from your counting.
Whirling around on the crate you were sitting on, you were met with a wrinkled and crooked finger jabbing into your chest.
"I knew it! I knew the storm was a bad omen!" She hissed, spittle hitting you in the face.
You couldn't help but gawk at how red in the face this woman had become, and even more so, you haven't even done anything.
"What do you mean by bad omen?" You narrow your eyes at the woman.
"You are a woman sailing on this ship! Women bring bad luck on the seas!" She screeched.
"Are you not one as well?" You question, brow raising at the absurdity. It's then that you notice Seungcheol inside the door frame.
"Seungcheol?" You ask, hoping that his eyes will meet yours, but they don't. They remain fixed to the floor.
"Bring her to the top deck," the woman commands, whirling on her heel and leaving the room.
You can see the way his jaw ticks in frustration as he comes further into the room.
"Cheol, talk to me, please. What's happening?" You ask as he grabs one of your arms. He doesn't hold you in a familiar way at all, his grip too firm on your arm.
You push again, "Seungcheol?"
You're met with a brooding silence as you're pushed rather harshly out of the cabin.
Rain and wind whip against your face, and it's only a matter of moments before your clothes are soaked through, sending a chill deep into your bones.
Somehow, you manage to hear the woman's shrill cries over the howling winds.
"How dare you escort me with a woman on your crew! You have damned every person on this ship by allowing her to sail onto open water!"
The moment would be rather funny watching the little lady yell at your giant of a captain if the circumstances weren't what they currently were. You have no idea what you've done wrong, and to be in the middle of this situation, it just didn't make any sense.
"You paid us for refuge and an escort to a new island. You have no right now to be upset about who I have on my crew," your captain seethes, leaning his face down at the wretched woman.
You're not entirely sure what transpired, but your captain has his arm twisted to the side in a hold that no elderly woman should possess the strength to have and a bone knife pressed to his neck.
"Wait! Stop! What are you doing?" You scream, struggling to get out of Seungcheol's grip.
Whirling on him, you scream, "Let go of me! Why aren't you helping our captain? Let me go!"
"Quiet!" He twists your arm as far as it'll go without snapping before he's pushing you in the there direction.
Your eyes scan wildly at your other crew mates, but there seems to be a haze over them. It must be rainwater in your eyes, but they almost seem to be moving slower.
You're jostled from your thoughts as you're shoved to the deck, Seungcheol holding one arm behind your back and the other at the back of your neck.
You try to turn your head to glare at the man who you thought you could trust.
"You're a part of this?" You hiss, fingers digging into the damp wood of the deck.
"I was promised a way out," Seungcheol answers, not even bothering to look at you.
"What do you mean a way out?" You try to get him to look at you, "Seungcheol, what do you mean?"
You can see the way his brow creases and the frown that sets on his face.
"Answer me!" You scream at him.
"Your crew will die because of you, but you will have the fortune of being the first to go," she continues, waving the bone knife around in the air.
You curse under your breath as you realize how truly helpless you are in this situation. If you try to struggle any further, you know you'll dislocate your shoulder. You turn your eyes away from the scene in front of you, forehead resting against the deck as tears prick your eyes.
You hear it over the thunder and crashing waves, the choked gurgling followed by a heavy thud.
Lifting your head and trying to clear bleary eyes, you can make out the slumped form of your captain lying on the deck. A red pool forms beneath him rapidly. You think you hear a scream. Your second thought is that maybe it's your scream, but you're not too sure.
A gnarled hand tangles in your hair before giving it a harsh yank. You glare at the hag before you, and you meet her malice filled gaze with one of your own, but she has a nasty smirk adorned on her face as she leans in to whisper in your ear.
"I know your secret you whore," she whispers, as pain erupts in your abdomen as she twists the knife deeper into your gut.
Coughing, you can feel the thick, warmth of blood fill your mouth and run down your chin.
Seungcheol finally drops your arm and takes a hasty step back away from you. Guilt is taking over his face, but he's quick to turn away from you.
Pressing a hand to your stomach, you cry out. It's an agonizing cry, one that carries across the water. A ragged scream of a lost love and betrayal. For a love that never got to blossom, you cry. And soon, your vision darkens, and you're left alone on the deck of your old ship.
The storm has passed, and the sun beats down on a ship and the person who lies on the deck.
A dry cough escapes your lips, and you try to wet your lips with your rough tongue. Your head feels like lead as you try to sit up, and there's an excruciating pain in your abdomen, which brings back all the memories rushing to the front of your mind.
Gingerly, you lift the bottom of your torn shirt only to be met with nothing. It's just a scar.
Scrambling to your feet, you rush to your captain's quarters, looking for something sharp. After turning over the desk drawers, your eye catches sight of a silver letter opener. There isn't much thought as you bring the blade across your palm. It stings, and you bite your lip to suppress a shout. To your horror, though, you watch as the edges of the wound begin to create thread like fibers and stitch the wound close once more.
"No, no, no, no," you whisper, bringing your hands to your head and gripping your hair tightly. Your knees buckle, and you find yourself in a fetal position on the floor.
"This can't be happening," you whisper, and somehow you manage to shed a few tears that you thought had all dried up.
»»————- ➴ ————-««
"What did he take from you?" Hongjoong asks, his eyes not giving away how he's feeling.
"He took my mortality," you fix him with a glare, even though the anger isn't directed at him.
"He took away my son," you add, jaw feathering in anger as you reopen old wounds.
2087
stormborns
yousharknotpass
