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Summary: Maya Sunriviere was just trying to finish her last semester of high school and get the hell off this reservation. But when a man she barely knows lays some weird archaic claim on her, the tribal council steps in and tells her what her destiny will be. That wonβt stop Maya from searching for another way out though.
Timeline: This story take place a few years after the events in Breaking Dawn.Β
Pairing: Paul Lahote x Original Quileute Female Character
Youβre never sure when your life actually starts. One day you just wake up and everything looks different, thereβs a shift in the universe, or you feel all brand new but somehow, irritatingly, the exact same. For me, my world began to shift the last weekend of winter break before my last semester as a senior at the Quileute Tribal School. If only Iβd have known what chaos was about to unfold, maybe I would have held on tighter to the old instead of rushing toward the new.Β
in a war-torn world where survival is a privilege, you never expected to become the object of a feared colonelβs obsession. but as whispers of his lost love haunt your every moment and bullets become the least of your worries, you realize that falling for him might be the most dangerous battle of all.
β€ pairings. caleb, fem!reader
β€ genre. heavy angst, smut, historical au, 18+
β€ tags. colonel!caleb, nurse!reader, reader is not l&ds!mc, ooc, war times, unrequited love, profanity, violence, loveless sex, explicit smut, mentions of sexual assault (not from caleb), obsession, possessiveness, jealousy, injuries, blood, killings, death. themes contain material that are heavy and disturbingβreader discretion is advised.
β€ notes. 8.3k wc. divider by thecutestgrotto. this is heavily inspired by my other gojo fic s.o.s and the manhwa my beloved oppressor :) couldnβt stop thinking about this au for caleb that i had to just write it :βD reblogs and comments are highly appreciated!
β€ next. 002 the colonelβs saint | colonel caleb playlist
The world above was long dead. Ruins of cities stood as monuments to a past civilization, swallowed by the aftermath of World War VI. Beneath the surface, buried in a labyrinth of steel and stone, was where the remaining humanity clung to survival. Here, Colonel Caleb was both a savior and a nightmareβa man whose presence alone sent shivers down the spines of even the most battle-hardened soldiers.
But he was not just any soldierβhe was the fleetβs best fighter pilot, a legend in the skies before the war even forced them underground. Even now, when the remnants of humanity relied on aerial supremacy to hold off their enemies, Caleb was the one they turned to. The one who led the most dangerous missions, who never failed, who returned even when others didnβt.Β
You have loved him for as long as you could remember.
You were a humble nurse, stitching together broken bodies, whispering soft reassurances to the wounded. Your duty was simple yet relentless, saving as many lives as you could with the limited resources and skill at your disposal. You werenβt the best, nor did you claim to be, but you were one of the few who refused to surrender to despair, even as the war bled your world dry. While others faltered under the gravity of endless suffering, you endured. And after a year of tending to fallen soldiers and civilians, you remained steadfast. You were the only one among your female colleagues who hadnβt lost herself to the horrors of war.
That was how you met him.Β
Caleb was the fleetβs toughest and most formidable leader. He was unyielding and merciless to those who dared cross him. Even with his own people, he remained strict, and his resolve never wavered even in the face of devastating losses. But the night he staggered into the private ward, wounded and bleeding out, you were the first to reach him. You ensured he was cared for, your hands steady as you fought to keep him alive.Β
βYouβll make it through the night, sir.β You could still remember the desperation in your voice as you tightened the tourniquet around his broken arm, fighting to stop the bleeding. βIβll make sure of it.β
He lay there, teeth clenched, body tense with pain, every breath labored. βIf I die, I die.βΒ
βNo!β you shot back, your grip firm with determination. βNot tonight. You will live. Weβre rooting for you, sir. The people need you.β
They said falling in love during wartime was a surefire path to heartbreak. Yet, meeting Caleb, seeing beyond his striking exterior, and loving him despite the battlesβboth on the field and withinβwas a fight you willingly embraced. You surrendered yourself to him without hesitation, and in return, the hardened soldier who was weary from war found solace in you. He called you the prettiest nurse in the ward, but to him, you were far more than that. You were the one thing he never saw coming.Β
You were the apple of his eyes.Β
But, of course, the other nurses didnβt take kindly to that. They resented how you had unknowingly ruined their chances with him, and even more so, how an undeniable favoritism began to surface. While they were left to sleep in rusty bunk beds, you were the one Caleb brought to his private quarters, where the sheets were soft, the air was warm, and food was abundant.
It was easy for them to judge. After all, rumors spread like wildfire about the nurse who shared the colonelβs bed. The gossip wasnβt confined to just the nurses; it reached the soldiers who eyed you whenever you passed, their gazes lingering with knowing smirks as if fantasizing what their colonel saw at night. Even the older civilians bore disapproving glances whenever they saw you. Their silent verdict was clear as day. You were seen as a woman who had traded her virtue for privilege. A harlot draped in a white uniform. A disgrace hiding behind the pretense of care.
You werenβt sure if Caleb knew about it, but it was impossible not to. He simply didnβt care because he had an entire nation to think about. Clearing your name was the least of his concerns. And you knew it. After two years of serving as a war nurse, when night fell, you were simply the woman Caleb claimed as his. A common-law partner, nothing more. He never made promises, never told you that you were the only one in his heart. Because you werenβt. That space belonged to anotherβthe woman he had truly loved. The woman he had lost to war.
His wife.
You tried. You tried to live with the ghost between you, tried to endure the way his fingers sometimes trembled against your skin, as if remembering someone else. You tried to pretend that when he held you, it was because he wanted you, not because he needed something to numb the ache inside him.
But love, when unreciprocated, was a slow and agonizing death.Β
And all you could do was live with it for as long as you were with him.
Because one day, you knew he could love you the same. And one day, when the war ends, you would be in his arms, building your life together with your kids playing freely and no longer living in fear.Β
For now, you had to endure what came your way. There are no saints in war times, and patience was a virtue at times like these.Β
The sharp scent of antiseptic filled your nose as you moved swiftly through the underground ward, checking pulses, changing dressings, and murmuring reassurances to the wounded who groaned in pain one after another. It was just another day in the relentless cycle of war, patching up soldiers only to send them back out to die.
Then you heard him.
Colonel Calebβs commanding voice felt like an alarm to everyone in the ward as he strode down the hall, flanked by his army of men. You werenβt even looking, but you could picture the way they walked, with Caleb at the front, exuding effortless authority, and the others keeping pace just slightly behind him.
βThe turbine failed mid-air,β one of his officers reported. βPreliminary analysis suggests a mechanical fault. Possibly a lubrication issue in the main rotor bearings.β
βOr sabotage,β another interjected grimly.
Caleb didnβt slow his steps. βHas the wreckage been recovered?β
βScouts are en route, sir. We should have an assessment within the hour.β
βToo late,β Caleb muttered. βIf they hit us now, weβll have one less bird in the sky. Reassign Squadron Echo to cover the eastern perimeter. Deploy anti-air artillery in sector four, and keep the missile launchers primed.β
βYes, sir.β
Just then, a distant explosion rumbled aboveground, rattling the dim lights overhead. You even had to hold onto one of the cabinet doors to steady yourself. A fighter jet had gone down.
βDamn it.β One of the officers pulled out a small tablet, scanning over the mission logs. βPilotβs confirmed dead. Theyβre already moving in on the wreckage. We need reinforcements at the north trench.β
Caleb barely hesitated. βSend Private Halloway to the front lines.β
βRoger that.β
His words were sharp and clinical. No emotion. Just another name spoken into a void, another body to be thrown into the fray.Β
Your hands stilled over a soldierβs bandages. Halloway. You recognized that name.
The same Halloway who had leaned a little too close when you handed him his rations. The one who had brushed a stray lock of hair from your face and smirked, murmuring something about how the battlefield could use more beauty like yours. The kind of beauty that he fantasized at night.Β
And now he was being sent to die.
A strange thrill coiled in your stomach. Caleb had heard about it. Or he might even have seen. It was a foolish and delusional thought, dangerous even, but you clung to the fact that this was surely his way of claiming you.
As his group passed, your pulse quickened. You turned slightly, letting your gaze linger on him. Tall. Unshaken. Unreachable. This was your man. He was yours and you were his.Β
You smiled as soon as he saw you, just a little, as if sharing a secret only the two of you understood.
But Caleb didnβt stop. He simply looked away. His eyes remained fixed ahead, his expression unreadable, and in a matter of seconds, he was gone. Nothing more than the cold air that he often carried.Β
~~
Steam curled in the dimly lit room as you stepped out of the shower, water forming in rivulets against your skin. The underground base was always cold, but in Calebβs quarters, the warmth always stayed. Not just because he had his own luxury of a fireplace, but because the warmth also included faint traces of him in the air, in the sheets, and in the ghost of his presence.
Not that it mattered. You were just emotional because he hadnβt been here in three days.
Sighing, you wrapped a towel around yourself, already resigning to another night alone. But just as you reached for your comb, the door swung open with a slow and deliberate creak.
You froze.
Caleb stood in the doorway, his uniform dusted with dirt and gunpowder. His sleeves were rolled up, veins prominent on his forearms and tension coiling in his stance. His gaze flicked over your damp skin, bare shoulders, the towel barely clinging to your body.
You let a small smile play on your lips. βYou finally remembered where your bed is?β you teased, stepping closer. βI was starting to think you found another.β
He didnβt respond. Just shut the door behind him with a quiet click.
And the thick, suffocating silence stretched as he began removing his shoes. You took this moment to clear your throat. βI heard about Halloway,β you murmured, tilting your head. βPeople are saying you sent him to a death sentence.β A pause, then a knowing smile. βDid you do that for me?β
The shift was instant. And it wasnβt what you pictured in your head.Β
Before you could react, Caleb was in front of you, his body pressing you back until your spine hit the cold wall. His hand gripped your jaw firmly, tilting your face up until you had no choice but to meet his eyes. They were dark, smoldering, and unreadable. This was the version of Caleb that everyone was afraid of.Β
βYou worried βbout him?β His voice had a dangerous edge lacing each word.
While you, your breath hitched, fingers curling into the towel. βN-No.βΒ
βYou think I didnβt hear?β His grip on your jaw tightened just enough to make you gasp. βThe way he talked to you? The way you smiled at him? Handsome guy, isnβt he?β
You denied everything he was saying. You knew one of his officers had been feeding him information, but they seemed twisted to make you out as someone you werenβt. Were they trying to turn him against you? βNo, darling. Thatβs not true. In fact, I canβt even stand him.βΒ
His lips curled, but there was no humor in it. βI have eyes and ears everywhere, Y/N.β He leaned in, his breath warm against your cheek. βAnd if I catch you entertaining anyone else again, I wonβt just send them to die.β
A shiver ran down your spineβfear, thrill, or perhaps something darker twisting deep inside you. His warning did what it was supposed to do: to scare the hell out of you. But the most dangerous part was how much you enjoyed it all.Β
And then, before you could even form a response, he pushed you towards the bed.Β
By the time you looked back at him in surprise, he was already unbuttoning his shirt, looking at you merely as an object of his desire. βStrip off,β he growled, face rigid as ever. βThe past few days were damn stressful. Been thinkinβ of you naked all day.βΒ
And so, your nightly duties began. Caleb demanded his reward, and you were too foolishly in love that you surrendered to him without hesitation.Β
Because as unhinged as his obsession seemed, it ignited something deep within you. The thought of Caleb claiming you as his prize, something he craved at the end of each brutal day, sent the most passionate fire through your veins. That the same man who barely spared you a glance in daylight was the one who burned with desperation to have you all to himself at nighttime.
βI missed you,β you whispered as you slowly unraveled your bare body in front of him, dropping the damp towel on the floor. Not once did you break eye contact, and it was the sexiest thing you had ever experienced in your life.
As for him, he had already rid himself of his clothes. They were a pile on the floor, discarded lazily as he pinned you down. First, he went for your lips. Completely devouring, savoring your taste, and dominating every inch of your mouth. The moment his tongue connected with yours, he deepened the kissβa little too rough, too desperate that you could barely breathe.Β
βM-My love,β you gasped, the only time he allowed you to catch your breath was when he was positioning himself between your legs. And then he crashed his lips onto yours once more, enjoying how you moaned against his lips, exchanging warm breaths as he explored your mouth. The kiss was so intense that you barely noticed the feeling of his hardened member pressing against your leg. It felt huge and hard as a rock, a clear sign that he had been wanting a good release for the past few days. And you? You were crazy about it. You had seen his member plenty of times before, but nothing excited you more than feeling it inside.Β
That wasnβt his agenda for now, though. He took his sweet time trailing kisses along your collarbone, leaving purple marks around your neck, before he feasted on the same breast he had been kneading for more than a minute. You could feel your back arching as your body naturally responded to his touch, with your own hand guiding him to massage your other mound. He nibbled on the nipple, sucking and licking around the nub, then moving to give the other the same amount of attention.Β
He was like a hungry beast that hadnβt eaten for weeks. With the way he squeezed your tits together and running his tongue along the cleavage, you could already feel yourself dripping down there.Β
βC-Caleb.β
βHm?β He didnβt pull away. Instead, he crawled down, spreading your legs apart, and eyeing the swollen lips that he was about to demolish. βWet already?βΒ
You nodded, looking down at him and watching as he pressed his fingers along the slit, sliding and circling his digits on your entrance. βMmhβthatβsβ¦βΒ
βBe patient now,β he mocked, βArenβt you so needy?βΒ
That was true, but how could you help it? How could you not want him inside if you could see him stroking his pulsing cock while he was using his other hand to play with your clit? Just when you thought you couldnβt go crazier, he eventually sucked his digits to taste your slick, then he returned them back to your entrance, only this time, entering without warning.Β
βA-Aah!β
His fingers alone could make your legs shake, and whatever he was reaching for inside you was making you weaker by the second. You were a moaning mess under him, hands clenching on his sheets for dear life as he fingered your cunt like there was no tomorrow. It was only a matter of seconds until you disintegrated in front of himβyour legs trembling as your fluid released itself in a series of squirts.Β
Embarrassed as you may be, it was what Caleb wanted to see.Β
And he didnβt let you rest before he was already positioning his crotch on your face, his hand holding his cock in place as he slapped his swollen tip against your lips. βMy turn,β he spoke in a low voice, smirking as you wrapped your shaky hand around his shaft and let your tongue swirl around his bulging pink head. You could taste the precum on his tip, licking every corner and every ridge under, from his balls back to his tip before you swallowed him entirely.Β
βFuck,β he cursed under his breath, pulling your hair as you bobbed your head on his cock, enveloping the warm walls of your mouth around his member as if you were milking him of his cum. Your eyes welled with tears as you fought the urge to gag despite feeling the tip of his cock repeatedly hitting your throat. Each and every moan he released made you more determined to please him, to be called a good girl, to be wanted.Β
You could feel it. With how his cock was twitching inside your mouth, he was about to explode. But he didnβt let it happen. Everything happened in a span of a second when he pulled his member from your mouth before opening your core and slamming his cock into your pussy.Β
His thick, hard cock stretched you open without mercy. And he didnβt slow down or savor the time. He was ramming into you, hands holding your hips in place while your tits bounced wildly. Calebβs sweat was starting to trickle along his toned upper body, his abs now glistening as he continued to pound into you endlessly.Β
βIβd fuck you everyday like this if I can,β he grunted, each word came out raspy. βYou like that?βΒ
βY-Yes! A-Aaah!β You struggled to form coherent words as he hit your sweetest spot at each hard thrust. βC-Caleb.βΒ
The walls were thin. But surely, the colonelβs private quarters would have some sort of soundproofing, otherwise it would be embarrassing how loud the skin-slapping and squelching noises you two were making. It didnβt help that you were practically screaming as Caleb started increasing his speed as he chased his climax. Your walls were clenching around his girth, milking him of his load that he soon spurted inside of you.Β
You were in a battle of catching each otherβs breaths as he pulled out, watching his cum seep out of your cunt before he plopped on the bed next to you.Β
βTake the pill as soon as you wake up,β he ordered, laying on his back as he closed his eyes. His chest rose up and down as he eventually caught his breath.Β
But you remained a ragdoll beside him, your lower body still twitching from the intense orgasm and muscle memory. βO-Okay.βΒ
The night was supposed to end romantically. It was supposed to be you and him cuddling and declaring your love for each other, but the thought of him only using your body to relieve himself was torture to your mind. You convinced yourself it meant something more, something deeper.Β
But the hard truth was, you were only there to fill the silence.
You traced lazy circles over his bare chest, your voice soft yet full of devotion. βIβm all yours, Caleb. Only yours.β
βYeah,β he muttered, running a hand through his hair. βI know.β
~~
The next morning, the bed beside you was cold.
You reached out instinctively, your fingers brushing against the empty sheets where Caleb should have been. But there was nothingβno warmth, no lingering presence, just the stark reality that he hadnβt even stayed.
But you told yourself you just had to get used to it and that Caleb would come wanting you again at night. Like he always did. And so, biting back the hollow ache in your chest, you forced yourself up, got dressed, and headed to the mess hall for breakfast.Β
The moment you stepped in, you felt it.
Eyes. Watching. Judging.
The low murmurs didnβt stop as you walked past the rows of civilians, soldiers, and nurses, pretending not to notice the whispers that followed you. You kept your chin up and sat down with your tray, forcing yourself to eat the stale bread despite the tightness in your throat.
You had no illusions about what they were saying. They all thought they knew what you were or what you did. Calebβs woman. His plaything. And after last night, they had even more reason to talk.
But you had work to do.
By midday, you were back in the ward, slipping into your role as if nothing had changed. Patients needed tending to, and you werenβt about to let their petty gossip stop you.
At least there was something to occupy yourself with. They brought in a new soldier to the base, barely back from the front lines if you could add. His face was gaunt, sunken with pain, sweat beading on his forehead as he lay on the cot. His leg was in ruinsβshattered bones, torn muscle, the kind of injury that didnβt fully heal in wartime.Β
You approached him carefully, offering a calm, practiced smile. βIβm here to helpββ
His reaction was instant. It was as though you were the trigger to a ticking time bomb. His eyes, bloodshot and wild, snapped to you, and before you could blink, his hands already shot out, grabbing at you with a strength you didnβt expect.
βYouβ!β he snarled, his fingers digging into your arms, nails raking against your skin as he yanked you forward. βYou whoreβyou whore!β
You gasped, struggling against his grip, but he was fueled by pain and rage, his voice hoarse with accusation. βOw! P-Please!βΒ
βYou ruin men like us! Youβyouβget innocent soldiers sent to die!β His nails scratched at your cheek, his grip tightening as he shook you. βYouβre the reason Hallowayβs goneβ!β
The words hit like a slap, but before he could do more, hands were on him. And on you. Other soldiers rushed in, prying him off you, restraining him as he thrashed against the cot.Β
βStand down, soldier!β one barked.
You stumbled back, breath coming fast, your skin stinging where he had just scratched you.
But the worst part wasnβt the pain.
It was the way the nurses across the ward just watched. Their gazes were cold, as if saying you deserved it. Not a single one had moved to help.
You couldnβt understand the hostility. Couldnβt fathom why people looked at you with such disdain. If it had been another woman in your place, would they have treated her the same? All you had done was love a manβnothing more, nothing less. You werenβt trying to hurt anyone. You simply fell in love.
But as you locked yourself in the bathroom, staring at your reflection while washing the bloody scratches from your cheek, that was when the realization struck.
They didnβt respect you because Caleb never had.
Not once had he claimed you in public, never shown his affection where others could see. He had never treated you like someone worth honoring, never given you the respect you deserved. And if the leader of this war-torn world didnβt respect youβwhy would anyone else?
The thought alone made your eyes well with tears, but you quickly washed them away. No. You refused to doubt. He loves me. Heβd even kill for me.
A sudden knock at the door pulled you from your thoughts. You opened it hesitantly, only to find Simone standing there. The only female soldier with a rank high enough to command real respect. At first, you assumed she was just waiting for the restroom, but the way she looked at you said otherwise.
βYou got a minute?β she asked, her tone cool and unreadable.
You hesitated before nodding. βYeahβ¦ sure.β
~~
The storage room was cold and dimly lit by the single flickering bulb overhead. Dust clung to the forgotten crates, and the faint scent of metal and oil lingered in the air. Hardly anyone came here as it was a place for old supplies and broken equipment, not whispered conversations.
And yet, here you were, in the only room without surveillance.Β
Simone leaned against one of the crates, arms crossed as he narrowed her eyes at you. βYou need to end things with Caleb.β
You stiffened instantly. βExcuse me?βΒ
She sighed, rubbing her temples as if she had already anticipated your reaction. βThis thing between you and him, you know it isnβt healthy. Not for you. Not for him.β
You scoffed. Who does she think she is? βYou donβt know anything about us.β
βI know more than you think,β she shot back. βI know what kind of man Caleb is. What heβs become.β
You folded your arms, defensive. βI donβt know what youβre talking about. All I know is that he cares about me.β
βCares about you?β Simone let out a humorless chuckle. βDo you even know what heβs done? How many men heβs killed just for looking at you?β
Your lips parted, but no words came out.
βFive soldiers. And counting,β she continued coldly. βSome he sent straight to the gas chambers. Others? He had them tortured in ways I wouldnβt even wish on our enemies. And all because they made the mistake of mentioning how beautiful you are.β
You felt the blood drain from your face. βB-But thatβs because he wants to protect me. Thatβs just how he loves.β
Simone watched you carefully before she sighed again, her voice softening this time. βThis isnβt love, Y/N. You donβt know Calebβ¦ I donβt even know if heβs capable of loving again.β
What does she mean?
βHe wasnβt always like this,β she continued, almost nostalgic as if he had seen another version of Caleb that you hadnβt. βBefore the war. Before his wife died. He was kind. Gentle. A man who knew the difference between power and cruelty.β She hesitated, then admitted, βShe was my colleague. And my friend. Calebβs childhood sweetheart, his true love, and his whole life. He loved her sincerely, so much so that he was fighting to make the world better for her. Not destroy it. But seeing him right now, she wouldβve hated what heβs become.β
Your hands clenched into fists at your sides. Everything she had just mentioned shot a bullet straight to your heart, but you refused to let it kill you. You refused, denied. No!Β
βYou canβt replace her,β Simone added, her words cutting through you like a knife. βNo matter how much you try. So I suggest you leave him before it destroys you.β
~~
The door to Calebβs private quarters slammed open as you stormed inside, your blood boiling, your mind a haze of rage and betrayal. You couldnβt stop Simoneβs words from echoing in your head even if you tried hard enough. You canβt replace her. Sheβs his true love. His whole life.Β
βNo.β Adamantly did you shake your head. βStop.βΒ
He loved her sincerely. And still does.Β
Your breath came in ragged gasps as you yanked at the blankets, overturned chairs, kicked over the table. The frustration inside you was begging to be released, and destruction was the only thing that made sense. How could you get extremely jealous over a dead person? You laughed in your head. She was dead. She was gone. Good for her. But despite the constant reminder to yourself that the woman you were jealous of didnβt exist anymore, you knew that you could never erase the fact that you would still never amount to her. And you hated it. You hated her!Β
In your rage, you didnβt even realize you had grabbed one of his jackets from the pile of discarded uniforms until something tumbled out of the pocket.
A necklace.
It landed with a soft metallic clink against the floor. It was a simple chain, worn with age, with two wedding bands strung together. Your stomach twisted as you picked it up, seeing the engraving was delicate but unmistakable. It had Calebβs name and hers.
Your hands trembled.
She was still here. She had never left. Not in his heart, not in his mind. He carried her with him, even now, even after all the ways he had made you believe you were his.
Something inside you snapped, as though you were a madwoman who had finally lost her sanity. Like Caleb always said, that βthere are no saints in wartimesβ. So, what was stopping you from going all out? She needed to be destroyed. She needed to be forgotten. In your desperation to search for more pieces of her, you lurched toward his drawers, pulling them open and shoving things aside. Your promise to never touch his things? Forgotten.
That was when you saw a wooden box, hidden beneath neatly folded uniforms.
You yanked it out, prying it open with shaking handsβonly to find it stuffed with letters. Some yellowed with time, others crisp as if he had reread them over and over. Her handwriting. Her words. Her love, immortalized in ink.
My Dearest Caleb,
If I close my eyes, I can still see you standing on the shoreline, hands in your pockets, pretending youβre not waiting for me. But I always knew. You were never good at hiding how much you loved me.
Are you eating well? Have you been sleeping? I know youβll lie if I ask you in person, but in a letter, you canβt hide from me. And I worry, darling. I always do.
I miss the way you hold me before you leave. I miss the way you kiss my hair, thinking I donβt notice how long you linger there. I miss the way you look at me like Iβm the only thing in this world worth coming back to.
Sometimes I wonderβ¦ do you know how much I love you? Do you feel it, even when weβre apart? I hope you do. I hope itβs enough to keep you warm when the nights are cold, to keep you safe when danger is near.
Come back to me soon, my love. The house is too quiet without you. And when you do, Iβll be right here, waiting. Just like always.
Forever yours,
Your wife
A strangled sob tore from your throat.
You didnβt think. You couldnβt. You just couldnβt.Β
Through hot tears and reckless fury, you grabbed the box and flung it into the fireplace without regard. All her letters spilled out, each and every one of them catching flame within seconds. And you didnβt hesitate to throw the necklace soon after, letting it vanish into the fire with a dull shimmer.
You stood there, watching the flames devour every trace of her. Of them.
βYouβre gone,β you let out a mirthless laugh, wiping the tears that followed after. βYouβre gone! Leave him alone!βΒ
Your entire body trembled at the thought, your chest undulating in heavy breaths. Then, as if realizing what you had done, you collapsed onto the floor, staring blankly at the fire.
The anger was gone.
Replaced by the terrifying thought of what Caleb would do when he came home.Β
~~
The FY-26 cut through the sky like a phantom with its sleek titanium frame reflecting the nautical glow of the setting sun. It was the most powerful fighter jet in the fleet; faster, deadlier, a mechanical beast designed for war. And only one person from the DAA was given the honor to pilot it.Β
Caleb gripped the throttle, voice steady as he spoke into his comms. βSpecter-01 to Specter-02, enemy reconnaissance spotted at 2 oβclock, altitude 15,000 feet. Adjust trajectory and prepare for engagement.β
βCopy that, Specter-01,β came the reply of his fellow fighter pilot. βVisual confirmed. Awaiting further orders.β
Calebβs gaze flicked to the horizon, where a lone aircraft hovered in the distance. He could hear the chatter of enemy comms scrambling to react, but for a moment, his focus drifted.
Below him, a small, crescent-shaped island came into view. His grip on the controls instantly tightened.
He knew this place.
The memory surfaced like a ghost from another lifeβof a time when war wasnβt all he knew. When he had taken her here, flying low so she could see the crystalline waves shimmering under the sun. He had told her to look down, to read the words he had carved into the sand earlier in the day.
"Will you marry me?"
He could still hear her laughter, the way it had crackled through the radio before she screamed yes over the comms, her excitement drowning out all other noise. His adorable pipsqueak. Her beautiful smile, her sparkling eyesβ¦Β
Caleb exhaled sharply, forcing himself back into the present. βI miss you, my love.β
That was a lifetime ago. She was a lifetime ago.
His eyes darkened as he thought of his new realityβyou. You werenβt her. Not in the way you spoke, the way you carried yourself, the way you looked at him with that foolish devotion. But maybeβ¦ maybe he should stop pretending that it mattered.
Maybe he should just settle with what he had left.
You were still there waiting for him. A woman who, despite all odds, loved him with reckless abandon. The same woman who cried on the night he was on his deathbed, doing everything in her might to make sure he lived. And though he could never give you what he once gave another, he knew youβd still smile, even just from the smallest things.
A glance. A touch. A mere kiss from him, and your entire world lit up.
His hands flexed against the controls.
βSpecter-02, engage the target. Iβm circling back to base.β
Because tonight, maybe heβd give you something to smile about.
~~
The moment Caleb stepped into his quarters, he could tell something was wrong.
The air alone was thick with the acrid scent of smoke, an unusual warmth persisting as dying embers crackled weakly in the fireplace. His gaze swept over the roomβfurniture askew, drawers flung open, papers and personal belongings scattered across the floor. His gut twisted. It was like a crime scene. Like something vital had been gutted from this space.
Then, his eyes landed on you.
Curled up on the floor, body trembling, and your arms wrapped around yourself like a feeble shield. Your shoulders shook through stifled sobs, but the moment your tear-streaked face lifted to meet his gaze, everything inside him snapped.
His heart slammed against his ribs, a foreign pressure crushing his chest as his vision tunneled straight to the fireplace.
No. No, no, no, no!
It was as if his vision blurred, as if there was a deafening ringing overtaking his ears as he stormed forward, shoving past the mess to get to the source of his rage. The flames had long since died, leaving behind nothing but fragile wisps of ash. But even in its destruction, he recognized what it used to be.
Burned letters.
A melted necklace, the twisted remains of two rings fused together.
The last pieces of her.
His wife.
His breath left him in a sharp, ragged exhale, his lungs refusing to pull in air as scorching rage flooded every nerve in his body.
βYou,β he seethed. Your name didnβt even make it past his lips. The word was a knife, laced with something lethal, something beyond fury. His boots pounded against the wooden floor as he closed the distance between you, fists clenched so tightly his knuckles went white. βIβd fucking kill you! What the fuck have you done?!β
You flinched, your body recoiling as if his voice had physically struck you. βCalebββ
βShut up!β His hand shot out, gripping your arm down to the bone, yanking you up with enough force that your legs nearly gave out beneath you. βDo you have any fucking idea what you just did?βΒ
βIβI didnβt mean toβ¦ I wasnβt thinking straightββ you choked out, shaking your head frantically, eyes wide with panic.
βDidnβt mean to?β He let out a sharp, humorless laugh, the sound so devoid of warmth it sent chills down your spine. Before you could react, he was already shoving you back against the nearest wall, his arms caging you in, his breath hot with rage as it fanned against your skin. His eyes were cold, piercing, murderous, menacing.
βYou burned her letters, our rings,β he said, each syllable aiming to intimidate you. βDestroyed the only damn thing I had left of her! And for what?!β
Tears spilled down your cheeks as you tried to shake your head, tried to explain, but your throat was too tight, your breath too uneven. Calebβs gaze alone was enough to make your entire body tremble. But you had to try. βI was hurt, Caleb,β you finally sobbed, the words tumbling out like a plea. βIβI just wanted you to forget her. I wanted you to see me!βΒ
βForget her?β His jaw clenched. His grip tightened on your wrist, the pressure just shy of bruising. βYou think you could ever replace her? You think you have any fuckinβ right to want anything from me? That you could be anything more than a pathetic substitute?β
The words sliced through you like a blade, carving through every delusion you had ever let yourself believe.
Yet⦠you had nothing left to lose.
βI love you,β you whispered, broken, desperate. βCaleb, I love youβ¦ Please. Iβll be everything you need. Iβll offer everything I have and more. Justβ¦ just forget about her.β
For a terrifying second, you thought he might actually hit you.
But then, just as fast as it came, he wrenched himself away from you, staggering back as though you were the thing poisoning him. It hurt. It hurt like hell to see the way he rid himself of you as he ran a hand through his hair, his fingers itching to wreck you.Β
β...Caleb.βΒ
β...Iβm sorry, Caleb.βΒ
β...I love you, Caleb.β
No matter how desperately you fought to win his heart, his voice remained eerily calm when he finally spoke.
βGet the hell out of my sight.β
You stood frozen, barely able to process the words. βB-Butββ
βI said GET THE FUCK OUT!β His roar thundered through the room, rattling your entire being like an insect in a heavy storm.Β
You swallowed down the sob threatening to rise up your throat, willing yourself to moveβto breatheβas you staggered toward the door. Your fingers curled around the handle, and for a split second, you let yourself hope for him to stop you. To say something. Anything.
But all he did was stare at you with a gaze so cold, so hollow, it made your heart cave in on itself.
And then, his final words were more merciless than you thought.Β
βYou wanna play with fire?β he muttered. βFine. Iβll throw you out into the front lines soon enough. See how much you really want to be a soldierβs whore.β
A strangled gasp left your lips, your vision blurring with fresh tears.
You couldnβt breathe.
You couldnβt think.
And for the first time since you met him, you realized that no matter how much love you poured into him, Caleb had none left to give.
~~
He stayed true to his words.Β
The front lines were nothing short of hell. Explosions tore through the sky, painting it in hues of orange and black. The ground trembled beneath relentless bombardments, screams of the wounded and dying mixing with the fusillade of gunfire. It was chaos. It was pure, unfiltered war.
And you were in the heart of it.
Thrown into the battlefield as nothing more than a discarded afterthought, yet you worked tirelessly, tending to the broken, the dying, the ones who begged for mercy even when there was nothing left to give. Blood soaked your uniform, stained your hands, and for the first time since you had arrived at this forsaken place, you realized Caleb was never coming to rescue you. That this wasnβt as simple as temporary punishment where he could rescue you back to the base the moment he saw that you had already paid for your sins.Β
You had been foolish to think otherwise. Because the punishment was greater than the crime.Β
Day after day, you watched the planes soar overhead, wondering if one of them carried him. If maybe, just maybe, heβd glance down and remember you. That heβd order someone to retrieve you, to take you home.
But no one came.
Not even him.
And just when you thought it couldnβt get worseβthe enemy arrived.
You barely had time to react before the camp was raided, soldiers storming in with brutal efficiency. Screams filled the airβnurses, wounded soldiers, no one was spared. You tried to run, but handsβso many handsβgripped you, dragging you with them.
βNo, please!β you sobbed, thrashing, digging your heels into the dirt. βSomeone, help me!β
But the only response was the harsh, guttural laughter of the men dragging you away. You didnβt understand their language, but you understood them. The way their dark, hungry eyes lusted over your trembling form. The mocking smiles curling their lips. The way they spoke to each other, like you werenβt even human.
Like you were property.
One of them cupped your chin, tilting your face up with a sickening grin. βSheβll do nicely,β he murmured in a thick accent.Β
Another joined in on the amusement. βA fitting pastime for the long nights ahead.β
A fresh wave of panic crashed over you, bile rising in your throat as you began to foresee your fate in their hands. Your fate as the enemyβs new plaything.Β
βNoβNO!β you shrieked, thrashing harder, your nails clawing at their arms. βCaleb! S-Someone, please!β
But no one came.
No one ever came.
That was when your real nightmare began.
They dragged you to their camp, a place so desolate, so devoid of mercy, that it made your previous suffering look like a fleeting dream. There was no hope here. No salvation.
Just pain.
The foreign army passed you from one to the next like you were nothing more than a worn-out relic of war. Their touch was greedy, using your body at their convenience, their grip bruising as they took what they wanted. They stripped you off everything; clothes, dignity, sanity. Sanity. Where is God in all of this?
Your mind drifted, escaping to anywhere else but there. You imagined a different life, a different fate. But the pain kept pulling you back. The jeers, the mocking laughter, the cruel hands that touched every inch of your skin reminding you over and over again that there was no escaping this. You felt dirty, felt disgusted of your own flesh, felt sick that you had to wake up each day living for only one and one purpose alone.Β
You stopped counting the days.
Stopped screaming when they came for you.
You had nothing left.
Their cruelty settled deep within your bones, your spirit breaking piece by piece until all that remained was a hollow shell of who you used to be.
And the worst part?
He never came.
Caleb, the man who once whispered possessive threats in your ear, who swore no one else could have you, who claimed you as his prizeβhad abandoned you to this.
It was almost laughable. Truly spectacular.Β
As you lay on the cold, your body too battered to move, you allowed yourself to accept the truth.
He never loved you.
He never would.
~~
Before you were a war nurse, you once interned as a nurse at Akso Hospital. Life was peaceful then. Even as whispers of an impending world war grew louder, there was an unshaken belief that your nation was too powerful to fall. No one dared to wage war on the strongest nation in the world.Β
That was the world you knewβquiet, bathed in golden light. You stood in the familiar white halls of the medical facility, the place where it all began. Where you trained. Where you dreamed of making a difference.
Dr. Zayne stood before you, his crisp uniform as pristine as ever, his silver-rimmed glasses reflecting the medical abstract he had on hand. He had always been composed and steady. A true professional that you looked up to. He was the best cardiac surgeon there was, and everyone in the same field dreamed of working with him.Β Of becoming like him.
βYou're ready for this,β he said, adjusting his gloves. βThe war will test you, but your handsββ he reached out, taking yours in his own, running his thumb across your palmββwere meant to heal.β
You gripped his hands a little tighter. βWhat if I canβt save everyone?β
He thought for a moment before letting out a quiet sigh. βYou wonβt,β he agreed. βBut you will save someone. And that will always matter.β
You felt your chest tighten. βThank you for being a good mentor, Dr. Zayne. I hope to see you again someday.βΒ
The golden light around him began to fade, his figure growing distant, hazy, slipping through your fingers.
βGood luck, Y/N.β
It was the chilling air that woke you up from your dream. The icy breeze seeped into your bones, deeper than any wound, any bruise, any violation. Every inch of you ached, skin marred with purple and black, lips split and dry. Your body was no longer your own. It was something broken, something discarded.
You barely had the strength to keep your eyes open and every breath was a struggle as your ribs protested with each inhale. The faint scent of blood and sweat lingered around you, suffocating you.Β Killing you.
Somewhere in the distance, you heard voicesβa noise.
A sharp crack split through the air, followed by a screamβshort, cut off, wet. Then another. And another.
Gunfire.
Shouting.
The heavy thud of bodies hitting the ground.
You tried to move, but your limbs wouldnβt obey. The exhaustion of everything they had done to you pinned you down. Your pulse was sluggish, your vision swimming, but you could hear itβhim. And the distinct roar of his rage. Perhaps it was your hallucination. After all, you had already lost your mind from this war.Β
But one of the soldiers outside, his voice barely rising before it was cut offβa sickening gurgle of a sound, as if something sharp had torn straight through his throat. Gunfire erupted in rapid succession, followed by panicked shouts, orders barked in a language you barely understood, only for them to be silenced just as quickly. A storm was tearing through the camp. A massacre.
Then, the door was kicked open. A figure stood in the doorway, silhouetted against the moonlight.
You held your breath.Β
The familiar combat boots. The bloodied gloves. The cold, murderous gleam of his eyes.
Caleb.
Your lips partedβhalf in disbelief, half in something uglier. Because now, after everything, after you had finally accepted that he was gone, he was here. His gaze was fixed on you, and something in his features cracked as he took in your state. Bruises. Cuts. The torn remains of your uniform that barely covered your violated body. His fingers twitched over the trigger of his gun.
Slowly, he took a step forward. And when he finally reached you, he knelt, his bloodstained hands brushing against your trembling form as if to confirm that you were real.
Why? Why now, Caleb?
You let out a broken sob, your body giving out as you collapsed into him, while his arms wrapped around you, holding you tightly and desperately.
It was for the first time since meeting him where he genuinely, unselfishly took you in his arms with fragile care. βIβm sorry. Iβm here. Iβm here now. Iβve killed every single one of βem for you,β he said in a tone so affectionate you almost wondered if it was a dream. βIβll take you home. No oneβs gonna touch you ever again. I promise.β
The irony, however, presented itself the moment Caleb touched you. Because rather than feeling a sense of relief in his own way of apologizing, a deep, all-consuming dread wrapped around your bones instead.
Because this wasnβt salvation. This wasnβt a rescue. This was a return to a different kind of prison.
Your battered body trembled in his grip as his presence, something you once ached for, now loomed over you like a cruel joke. You thought being hereβbeing dragged through hell, used, and discardedβwas the worst fate imaginable.
But, no.
The true horror was returning to Caleb.
Because you knew now. You finally understood. There was no future for you. Not in his arms. Not in this world. And the look in his eyes, that dangerous, unhinged gleam that he would never let you go. You were only going to submit yourself to a never ending cycle. Of pain. Of being unloved.
So before he could react, before he could drag you back into the nightmare of his possessive grasp, your trembling fingers wrapped around his gun.
His own gun. His own weapon.
For the first time, his cold, calculating gaze faltered, widening in shock as you tore it from his holster with the last of your strength. βY/Nββ
The barrel was already pressed to your temple. His hands lunged for you, fast, too fastβ
BANG!
The world stilled.
Your body swayed before a slow, almost gentle descent to the ground. Caleb caught you before you could hit the dirt, but warm blood seeped between his fingers. His hands, the same hands that had killed and destroyed, now shook as they cradled you. βNo! NOOO! Y/N!β
But it was too late.
You smiled with your red-stained lips. βYou deserve to live a life where the women you loveββ you coughed, blood bubbling at the edges of your lips as you said your last words, βleave you.β
tags/cw: angst, royal au, forced marriage, cheating, drama, emotional turmoil, power imbalance, manipulation
word count: 5.1k
If you stay long enough with something, you will learn to love it. Even pain.
βDo you, Suguru Geto, take Y/N, as your wife?β The preacherβs voice rang clear through the hall, a stark contrast to the cloud of regret shadowing his eyes as he said the two words that you have been aching, dying to hear from no one elseβs lips but his. βI do.β It almost sounded painful, like the cracking of his frozen heart, reflecting in his voice.Β
The shards cut your skin, digging deep straight into your bones but never missing the heart.
The priest's eyes flickered to yours. There was the respect that you get from everyone in that hall, the adoration from your peopleβhundreds, no, thousands of eyes glimmered as they stared at you. But none of them could take away the ice that slowly creeps up from the tips of your toes, and your fingertips, as the man in front of you stares at you with an empty gaze.
I fucking loathe you. They didnβt have to be spoken for you to know them. The hatred was as thick as the ground underneath you that you could almost hear his voice whispering it to your ear, thrusting it like a dagger to your brain, rendering you paralyzed. Youβre sure that if he wants you to remember anything from this moment, it would be those words.
The veil was lifted from your face and your eyes fluttered closed for a second or two. You hoped that the shade of regret you saw was just due to the threads of your veil but no. He was raging from the inside. You wished for his heart to burn for you with much love, just like yours do for him but no.Β
Upon kissing him, your body naturally leaned towards his touch. The softness of his lips washed away all the wounds in your heart. The feel of his hand around your waist, and his breath against your lips was enough to rekindle hope into your soul. You almost reached after his warmth as he pulled away from you.Β
There was warmth on your cheeks from how the love inside your heart overflowed to your head, reaching the soft flesh of your face. Yet, not even a split second was spared from his wandering eyes, searching for the woman who truly owns your most treasured inside his chestβhis heart.Β
A lady in a white dress stood out from the crowd and his eyes sought hers. You watched his Adam's apple bob up and down as he swallowed, gazing at her with soft, starry eyes. You canβt relate to her at allβyouβre just a queen who has everything yet nothing in the palm of her hands.
He looked at her as if even the kiss he gave you was dedicated to her and her whole being. He looked at her as if he would jump out of this altar, slide the ring off his ring finger, and throw it at your face if she as much as motioned with her slender fingers to come to him. He looked at her as if he would trade everything he had now for another day with her, whereas he couldnβt even bear a minute of skin contact with you.
βI now declare you husband and wife.β
The beautiful declaration was muffled but it was enough for you to hear them. The crowds cheered and whistled for the newly wedded couple, you took his hand in yours, ignoring how limp and cold it felt. He didnβt even make an effort to squeeze it back but your heart surely felt its crushing force.Β
You smiled your way out of the cathedral, ignoring the pair of eyes that burned holes in your figure. If they could be bullets, youβd be riddled with it by now, ignoring the way your husband had never once smiled at you ever since the ceremony started even and even as you looked up at him now.Β
Youβve been unwanted before. This isnβt the first time. You hushed your weeping, bleeding heart as you stepped into the carriage. Flower petals were all over you and you giggled lightly as you brushed them off your clothes and head before placing your hand on his thigh, almost begging for affection.
βYouβre my husband.β You cooed at him, leaning on his shoulders and rubbing your cheek gently on him. If he wanted soft, you would become the softest. You sighed at the silence that enveloped the two of you. The air inside was cold despite the closed windows. Your hand was gently yet firmly brushed away from his leg. βThis is all for duty, your Majesty.β He sounded hoarse, face dull and eyes empty.
βYou are now our Kingdomβs Prince.β You didnβt even recognize your own voice as you tried to cheer him up, reaching up a shaky hand to touch his face and turn his gaze to you. The hardest thing to do was pretend to be brave when everything was tearing you apart. There was sadness in his eyes. There was anger.Β
Perhaps this is grief. Heβs mourning for his lost love. The love that you killed. That you burned.
βYou are my Prince.β The sigh in your words made you sound gentler but nothing could ever top Aika; his only love. βYou shouldβve chosen someone else.β He spoke monotonously at your face, sending the smile on your lips crumbling down. Then, there was your futile attempt to pull yourself together.Β
βThereβs no better match for the position.β Your love for him was not the sole basis for your reason to agree on choosing him. Heβs smart and strong. He has a heart for the country. Everything that a Prince can have is in him. But another crucial thing for marrying isβ¦
βAnd I love you.β Youβve never felt so vulnerable in front of him before until those words escaped your lips. It was a product of the overwhelming, overstimulating wedding ceremony and the fact that you are now officially reigning alongside your first love.Β
But the look of pity in his eyes when he heard you say those words was the worst.
βDonβt blame me if it doesnβt work.β He whispered, pulling his hand away and moving to the farther corner of the carriage the moment you sped past the long line of cheering people. It was all for show to him. But not for you.
If you stay long enough with something, you will learn to love it. Even pain. Thatβs what you always told yourself.
βWhat wouldnβt work if you get to do anything you want?β The rasp in your voice is a warning: the tears are about to fall. Youβve been tough for years, you canβt let yourself fall now that you have everything you could ever want.
Do you really have everything you want now?
βVery well, then. I would like to visit the Princess of the Southern district every other night.β He straightened up ignoring the way your hand almost reached up to clutch your chest. The silence was long and your gaze was starting to irritate him. If it wasnβt for his promise to the former King, he wouldβve already jumped out of this carriage, threw away his ring, and swept the Princess off her feet.
It doesnβt matter if they donβt have everything. Hell, it doesnβt even matter if they donβt have anything. He will sell his soul to escape this life heβs about to face.
βYou donβt want the people to thinkββ You began, regaining your composure as you tried to sit closer to him. He used to tell you that your hands were warm. βThatβs why I said βnight.ββ He spat the obvious; the obvious that you tried so hard to ignore. The hole in your heart started to get bigger as the realization hit you.
He cares about the feelings of everyone in that Kindom, but he doesnβt give two shits if it will kill you. Heβd pretend, heβd hide his true feelings for their sake. But heβll openly declare his undying love for another woman on your face.Β
βQueen Y/N, I am not asking for permission.β He clarified and you canβt say βno.β Despite your difference in power, you just donβt have it in you to stop him. What if he leaves when he feels restricted? How will you make him love you then? Your brows furrowed at how crazy you sounded. Youβre not supposed to be like this.Β
βSo, that's your condition?β You straightened up, putting your hands on your lap. This is starting to feel like a meeting, a deal between two people who only want to use each other and you hate that. βDonβt put it that way. You know Iβm doing this for your father.β He fixed his collar, jaw tightening as if he deeply regretted ever agreeing to it. He probably does.
βLetβs just say it would ensure balance in our relationship. Since you went and did what you wanted, at least let me be with who I want. Even just for a quarter of my life.β He gritted the last sentence, sending ripples to your vulnerable heart. You nodded, blinking away the wetness in your eyes.Β
The castle has never looked so far before. And you had never felt so unloved before.
'You canβt be fucking serious.' Thatβs what he said in his mind as he kept his head bowed, right hand atop his left chest as he knelt along with the most respected warriors of the country. He did not dare look up. He can't find it in himself.
βMy father and I have a lot of respect for you. As a protector of our kingdom, I look up to you and admire your skills as a leader and heart for the citizens.β You began and he remained in his position, hearing your heels tap lightly against the marble floor as you walked down the steps from your throne.
βEveryone, you may go for now.β With a series of sharp salutes, the soldiers filed out of the grand hall, leaving Suguru alone with the Queen. Suguruβs fingers grew cold by the minute. What are you even planning to do? He can't get married to someone else.Β
Not when his heart is already set on pursuing Princess Aika.Β
You let a few moments pass before speaking again. βI want you to marry me.β Straight to the point. You felt the tension when you first declared that he was chosen. βPlease, stand up, Suguru. Itβs just us now.β Suguru doesnβt know if he should hate that you could be so casual with each other now despite your statuses.Β
Did you mistake his kindness for something else?Β
βLook, my fatherβs dying. I have to find a Prince. You know the rules of thisββ You breathed out, desperate and shaking after catching a glimpse of his eyes. His brows bumped together and his lips sealed shut. You can tell that he doesnβt want to do it. It almost felt like a barbed wire crawled up and around your neck, tightening with each passing second.
In your kingdom, if a woman is to ascend to the throne then, she must ensure a Prince by her side. Otherwise, she will not be allowed to reign and the next in line will take over. You used to think it was a dumb requirement. It was almost as if the crown was belittling what a woman could do on her own. Itβs been a rule for thousands of years that no one dared to challenge.
βIt doesnβt have to be me, Y/N.β He stood up, finally meeting your eyes. He licked his lips, shaking his head as he paced around. It made you nervous, scared even. βBut this country needs someone whoββ You proceeded to explain only to be cut off again. You can tell heβs trying to contain his reaction.
βThen, you have a lot of options, my Queen. It doesnβt have to be me.β He reiterated the last part with more force, staring deep into you. Before you could even stop yourself from asking the question you feared the most at the moment, it already slipped out of your mouth.
βWhy?β There was no answer and it felt like the sound of his breathing just set a timer for the ticking bomb inside you. All your life has been filled with whys. When deciding on this thing, you didnβt think youβd have one of those again. You didnβt expect Suguru would be the cause of it too.
Because thereβs only been a certainty with him. No wondering, no doubts. Just him.
βWhy, Suguru? My father and I talked about this and I-Iβ¦β You stammered, walking closer to him, agitated by your thoughts and the slowly rising disappointment in your heart. Out of all peopleβ¦ βWhy not you? Are you married? Do you not wish to marry? Do you not wish for a better life? Or are youββ The questions were asked slowly and Suguru hated that for a second he almost saw your motherβs condescending gaze in your eyes.
The one to whom all people bowβthe one who doesn't wait for an answer.
βBecause Iβm in love with someone else, Y/N! Am I supposed to throw that away?β He exploded, he sighed exasperatedly, taking a step away from you. βIf you want to marry someoneβ¦ if you want someone to take the role of the Prince, it wonβt be me.β You knew it. That damn trip to the southern district changed something in him.
βWho? Where are they from? Is it a commoner?β You displayed a straight face, void of emotions as your heart started to hurt. There was a pounding in your head, and the barbed wire around your neck finally drew blood. It is killing you.Β
βDo you have to know?β He looked at you with extreme disbelief in his eyes. You always respected his privacy even if you could easily coax things out of him with just your words. Just how low will you go for this throne? The throne you claimed to be not so interested in. The throne that raised you and broke you at the same time.Β
βI am your Queen and I demand an answer.β You hate to be like this but youβre starting to feel numb. Your hopes were high, and so the fall is harder, harsher to your already brittle bones; brittle from the cold, brittle from the beating, brittle from the pain you have felt up to this moment.Β
You watch him shake his head, eyes wide with surprise. Youβve never used your power against him, no matter how much the situation demands. He has always been a friend to you, never a pawn. But right now he feels nothing more than a commoner who has no choice but to kiss the ground you walk on.
βItβs Princess Aika of the South.β Your childhood friend. Your cousin. Indeed, sheβs easy on the eyes. Easy on the heart too because sheβs kind. Sheβs one, if not the most-liked ladies of the Kingdom. Not even youβa former princess who hails from the Central, the highestβcan beat her at that.Β
You nodded, murmuring an βI see,β which he probably didnβt even hear. You bit your lip turning your back at him, as you tried to fight back the tears. So, thatβs why heβs been going there more than his duty demands. Thatβs why he sometimes leaves your training to the other knights.
βSo, sheβs the urgent duty you sometimes use as an excuse during our training sessions?β It was a couple of months back, you didnβt even notice. Itβs been almost a year since the trip to the Southern District, when had they start to meet each other in secret? Do the other knights know? Why didnβt he tell you when you thought you had a close relationship with him?
βNo. I would never lie about my job, your Majesty. It was true that they required help with the South because of their declining economy.β His voice was clear, and honesty was thick but youβre not satisfied.Β
βWhy does it have to be you?β He swallowed thickly, catching on to the statement, a clear mockery of his earlier question to you. βThey need a skilledββ He began but was quickly stopped when you let out a snicker, letting your hands fall to your sides as you turned around to face him, eyes cold and dead.
βThen, you have a lot of options, Commander.β He has never seen you in this light before and it was true that the royal blood shines naturally when it comes to certain situations. At that moment, it felt as if you were slowly rising above him, intimidating him with your towering wits and power. He canβt even see the little girl he played with during the coronation day many years ago.
βY/N, you know they need the most suitable for theββ He tried to make the argument lighter than where it was going but to no avail as you once again interrupted him. βIf you could make that statement, then you should understand where Iβm coming from.β He was sure that he saw a tear escape your eye as you turned around again.
βTell your Princess that I, the Queen, would like to convene a meeting with her tomorrow morning.β You stated, running a hand over your gown, almost hearing his breath hitch at the command. βYou are to participate, Commander.β The statement was absolute and no matter how much he told himself not to fear your decisions, he still felt worried for Aika.
You wonβt hurt your own cousin, right? Youβre not like that. He knows you.Β
βU-understood.β With that, you left without even looking at him. Each step that you take away from the man is a stomp to your heart. You wanted to turn around and beg him but thatβs not what youβre allowed to do. To be a Queen is to be tough even in this heartwrenching situation. No matter how much you want to crumble for him.
This may be karma for seeing the fact that you need a Prince to officially reign as an opportunity to get the man that you want to marry.
You donβt know what you will say but thereβs just one thing certain in your mind: your marriage with Suguru will proceed.Β
βGood morning, Your Highness.β The Princess of the Southern District bowed before you with the man of your dreams beside her. Even supporting her as she sat down. He has an unreadable expression on his face, eyes asking for some sort of mercy albeit not knowing what is to come.Β
Heβs more worried for her than for himself. How absurdly romantic.
You had a chat with one of your head maids the night before. βDo not forget the power that you hold, my Queen. Even the highest of her district shall bow to you. Do not fret.β Taking a deep breath, you maintained your facade as you smiled at her. She looked so sweet and demure in her baby pink long dress. Definitely a match for your strong knight.Β
A flower and a blade, sitting together. What a sight.
It took everything in you not to scoff when she turned her head to look at him, smiling slightly. Sheβs always been the subject of comparison to youβhow more feminine she is than you, more delicate, more ideal as a woman. It irritated you before but never enough to hate her. Even now when sheβs the apple of your manβs eye, you still cannot hate her.
What the people do not know is youβre just as delicate as herβher as silk and you as a bomb.
βHow long have you been together?β You started, leaning back on your chair, watching them exchange looks. βNot really βtogetherβ, yet. Iβm still trying to prove myself to her, your Majesty.β Your eyes narrowed for a split second before looking down. You hate to think that youβre being a villain here.Β
βWhat do you say about marriage, Princess Aika?β Suguruβs eyes were on you, guarding your every emotion, every word that would escape your lips. βWhat we have now, my Queen, is only but a budding relationship. We still have so much to know about each other.β She laughed awkwardly, looking at him to see his reaction but his eyes remained on you.
βI see. Thatβs right. Marriage shouldnβt be rushed. Unless thereβs a good reason for it, donβt you think?β You took a sip of your tea, nodding as you continued, βIs there ever a good reason for it?β You tried to joke, only to earn another awkward laugh. After a little more chat, you figured this wouldnβt be as shocking to this Princess anymore. At least, it was not surprising enough to make her pass out.
βIβm gonna have to marry your suitor, Aika.β You addressed her by her first name, eyes softening as you watched Suguru stiffen in his seat. βPardon?β The girl was on the edge of her seat, quite literally, as her gaze jumped between you and Suguru. βIβm sure youβre aware of the ways of the Crown.β You looked down, feeling like you were killing two hearts at once. Itβs the last thing you want to do butβ¦
βDo not fret." The maidβs voice echoed in your head. Suguruβs loving gaze flashed inside your mind and once again, youβre determined. βHim? Cousinβ¦we have a lot of capable menββ She started, but Suguru cut her off. βItβs not official, we still have to talk it through.β His eyes were on you, clearly pissed, caught off guard at how quickly you switched the subject.
βBut the Crown is absolute once its decision has been made.β Her eyes watered, scooting closer to him as she desperately grabbed his hand, before breaking down to sob on his shoulders. Youβre starting to hate yourself as time passes. How he shushed her made you want to run to the balcony and throw yourself off it. Maybe that would be better.
βHeβs my fatherβs candidate.β You added, hearing her cries get louder. He looked at you with disgustβfor the first time in your years with himβyou know that he started to hate you at that moment. It almost made you want to take your words back but to do so would be to win nothing. This one decision can give all that you have worked and suffered for.Β
βIf that was the decision, then so be it.β After several moments of watching the love of your life desperately wipe the tears of another woman, she finally spoke. Eyes filled with defeat and hate at the same time. You donβt know if thereβs a worse combination. βMy Queen, I beg you to understand that my decision to give him up does not diminish my feelings for him in any way. I am simply leading all that could be involved to a better path.β Her words were daggers and you could sense their threat.
βThis doesnβt kill our love. I simply want him and my family safe.β It goes without saying that anyone who goes against the Crown will be punished accordingly. Not even the current head could change and erase the wishes of a dying ruler. Especially not one with enough support to back it with.
Everyone knows that the best option is Suguru. Even if you call every citizen of the land now and ask them one by one, they know that he is the best candidate. Born and raised in the castle, trained by the nobles and the most skilled knights, one could say that the only missing thing from him is the blue blood of the royals. There is no other person.
The next thing you know, the Princess is already bowing to you and on her way out with Suguru following like a lost puppy behind her, leaving you with your thoughts, the pressure chewing you alive and the guilt of having power. You felt like you couldnβt proceed with any of it anymore. How long do you have to force yourself into this man when heβs already planted himself in someone elseβs heart? Now, you have to claw at it just to get to him and hold him to you.Β
That alone is embarrassing and you just know that the younger you wouldnβt want to be this person. βAt least, make it all worth it. After all the sacrifices weβve made for you. At least, do something right.β Your late motherβs harsh words dug a pool of tears in your eyes. When have you turned into this monster? When did you turn into someone like her?
The ghost of shackles wrapped around your ankles was cold as you tried to calculate your debt. βI have no right to refuse. This is what I was made alive for.β Your head started to spin as you stood up, watching as Suguru turned to look at you with furrowed brows, βI will deal with my life if I have to.β He spoke to the Princess before allowing her guards to take her with them, knowing he was not supposed to be seen with her by the public. Not after he has been declared as a candidateβno, a chosen one for your marriage.
He canβt get her exiled without a plan for them. He loves her too much.
βIβll be meeting her tonight. And no, Iβm not asking for permission, Y/N.β You remained unmoving, eyeing him as he tried to stare you down. If heβs being honest, the look in your eyes almost made him consider taking you to the people of the outskirts. Maybe your mother did something that turned you like this.Β
βYou told me you would want to change the rules of this kingdom. But now youβre just another dog of the Crown.β He spat at you, blinking as he let the words sink in. You swallowed the insults, seeing the portrait of the Kingdomβs flag behind him. βAnd so is your woman for simply agreeing. Stop acting like a damn jughead, Suguru. You know why itβs not easy.β He shook his head, stepping away.
That night, you just know that they met. Probably making love somewhere in the South, bathing in each other's love while youβre here ostracizing yourself for being selfish, replaying his words and the way he glared at you before stepping out of the room you once happily chased each other in.Β
If you let him know and if you let him go, you wondered if heβd make love to you too for the first and last time.Β
β-------------------------------------
βPrepare my horse,β he commanded, wiping his mouth with a napkin as he stood to get himself ready. His eyes never met hers. Not even a week into your marriage and heβs already doing this to you. βI havenβt finished my food yet.β Your voice quivered as you dropped your utensils. βAnd what of it? Do you plan on coming with me?β Revolting. He dare mock you in front of the maids? You chose to hold your head high, swallowing the pain away.
βMaybe I will. So, she knows that I know and I am here.β You stood up, brushing your dress with your hands. He snickered, shaking his head before turning to look at you. The maids, sensing the tension, started to clear the room by busying themselves. βShe was there first.β Another thorn to your dying heart.
βY/N, we both know what this is for. Everyone in this castle knows what this is for. Whatβs the point of pretending to be in love when the publicβs not around to see?β He has a point. But this is not how you want your first marriage to be. You didnβt even get a chance win before karma bared its fangs at you and took a bite.
βSo, we pretend forever? Is that what youβre implying? And when heirs and heiresses are brought up, then what?β You made sure each of your words were loud and clear, trying to knock some sense into his head. The situation was cruel but how could he just let you endure it alone when he promised to be with you and crown?
βYou out of all people should know that an heir to the crown doesnβt have to come from the Consort.β He fixed his gloves, stepping away and leaving you with no words in your mouth. He was right. Your mother was the Queen Consort, and you were not even hers. Yet, here you are, reigning with a man who wants you to bear an heir from a different man. The Princess of the Southern District mustβve saved the world in her past life to be this lucky.
And you? You brought this upon yourself when you forced your heart on a man who already shares his with someone else. Truly a tragic queen.
There was no honeymoon for the two of you. βHoneymoons are for lovers,β He says as he tries to ice the forming bruise on the skin of his neck. It was 4 am and here you are, begging for a loversβ month or even week with him, in hopes of taking him away from the Princess. And of course, to try and win his heart.
βThe people will be suspicious.β You whispered as you sat on the chair in the corner of his room, watching the sky turn dark grey. βI am a soldier. They will understand that I cannot help myself to stay away from duties. Former or not.β You wondered if these were the excuses he rehearsed when they spent their nights together ever since you declared your marriage to him.Β
βI am tired, Y/N. You can stay but I cannot talk with you.β You fight the urge to ask him if you could sleep with him. Since the wedding day, you have not once slept beside him. And he never once even bothered visiting your chambers to check on you. But just like a woman in loveβ¦ you stayed.Β
And just when you thought he was asleep, you walked to the bed and watched him sleep. Your face reflected the exhaustion but your eyes spilled love. And itβs all for him. You leaned forward, bracing yourself with your hand, to give him a kiss when he spoke.
βIf youβre going to kiss me, do not kiss my lips. Anywhere but my lips.β He kept his eyes closed and his features relaxed. βYou kissed me at our wedding.β You wanted to say, and as if reading your mind and hearing your thoughts, he added, βThe wedding was a show. And actors act, Y/N.β With that, he turned to his side away from you to shut you out.Β
Biting your quivering lips, you straightened up and let your hand reach for the harsh coldness of his doorknob. Watching your soft shadow cast by the candlelight as you walked out of his room, you asked yourself:
genre: a bit spooky, but mostly fluffy and comforting vibes
warnings: mention of blood and being chased after (but nothing too intense)
word count: ~ 2K
requests: open! for twilight wolfpack, narnia and harry potter
a/n: honestly, iβm really excited about this fic. i think itβs very sweet and comforting :3 my brain is bubbling with so many ideas lately so expect new pieces from me in the close future hehe. also if you have any requests feel free to message me!!
i recommend listening to a Twilight Comfort playlist while reading this. Hope you enjoyy <33
part II part III
*gif is not mine!!
summary: After the reader survives an encounter with a vampire, they are still haunted by the memories of it. Luckily, they have a caring and protective friend who is always ready to ensure they feel safe and cared for, even in the middle of the night.
Wrong place, wrong time.
You squeeze your eyes shut, hoping to erase the terrible images invading your brain. For a week now, they have been omnipresent, taking up all the space in your mind. They are the center and focal point of your thoughts for days on end. As you open them again, your vision adjusts to the darkness just enough for your gaze to fall on a strange form crouched in the corner of your bedroom. You could swear itβs alive. Swear itβs stalking you.
You jump out of your bed to turn your nightlamp on. Your heart feels like it might spring out of your chest of its own accord. Your breath is short, and for a moment, you think youβll never be able to take one that will actually get air in your system.
The menacing form in the corner turned out to be a pile of dirty clothes, but you knew that. Since that day, you feel irrational and paranoid. Everything feels like a threat, and you are now constantly looking over your shoulder, paying close attention to any suspicious sound or absence of it. Youβve talked about it with Harry Clearwater when you unexpectedly met at the Reservation one day. You did not hear him coming, and he had set his heavy hand on your shoulder to get your attention. Which resulted in a glass shattering scream for you and a bad fright for the poor man. As he invited you in for a calming cup of tea, you unloaded the weight on your shoulder to him. It felt good to talk about it, knowing you could never do so with your dad and your friends. He assured you that it unfortunately was a very normal reaction from your nervous system. You had faced the world's most dangerous predator and had survived it without a single scratch. Of course it would take some time for your traumatized brain to go back to normal. You could never take credit for the fact that you even had a chance to go back to normal, and would never attempt to do so. Knowing very well that without Paul, Jared, and Embryβs arrival, you would not have lived to talk about this encounter.
When you focus and let your mind drift off, you can live the event again, as if you were back in time.
The paralyzing fear, the blood in your veins feeling like icy water. There was nothing to be done against a creature like that. You remember the horror you felt as everything became silent around you. You were headed to Emily's cabin, a simple, straightforward walk through the woods. The birds suddenly stopped singing, even the soft wind had died down. The forest knew it was in the presence of something truly horrible and had seemed to hold its breath, along with every creature.
The color of its eyes was like in every legend you had been told; crimson red, like fresh blood. Not one ounce of humanity in those orbs, just a bottomless pit of cruelty and hunger. The worst thing was the pull you remember feeling for a split second toward that monster. You knew it was its sole purpose, but felt embarrassed you had fallen for it. Shivers crawled down your spine as you recalled its ethereal and hypnotizing appearance. Itβs like you can hear again the faint swooshing sound it made as it sprang towards you. You remember sending out a quick prayer to literally any entity who would be listening right now, but the blow never came. Next thing you knew, three giant beasts tackled it to the ground, gnarling and dismembering it in a matter of seconds.
You open your eyes and shake your head to try and physically get those horrible memories outside of your skull. You lay back in bed, anxiously watching every corner of your room for some sign of danger. You left the light open, you knew there was no chance you could fall asleep without it. You tucked yourself back in bed and tried to calm your breathing. You tried every technique you knew, hoping sleep would grace you with its embrace, but nothing worked.
You look back at the clock after a while.
1:15 am. It was too late for you to get out of bed, and morning was still so far away. You had school the next day and knew that if you spent one more night without sleeping, you wouldnβt be able to explain to your teachers why you dozed off again in their class without them calling your father.
In a last effort, you tried thinking about reassuring and comforting things. Curiously enough, one kept coming back to mind. A giant wolf, its fur a multitude of shades of brown and red. Its eyes were sweet and reassuring, containing a particular warmth. You looked at your phone, hesitating, but remembered his voice:
βIf thereβs absolutely anything, call me okay?β
And so you did.
Twenty minutes later, you got a text. You quietly walked to your window, glad to see Jacobβs familiar shape outside your house. He was standing next to a tree, representing for once a friendly and reassuring shadow in the night.
He spoke quietly. βHaving trouble sleeping?β
You nodded, a bit ashamed to admit such an infantile fear. Although, deep inside, you knew there was nothing childish about being afraid of the monster you had been warned about as a child, once you had come face to face with it.
βAre you sure you want to do this? I'd totally understand if you'd rather not stay. I mean it's late and you need to sleep. I don't know what I was thinkingβ¦β
βDon't be ridiculous." he cut you off. "Iβm already here. And once youβve been asleep for a long time, Iβll go home and catch up on my beauty sleep, okay?β
You knew it wouldnβt take much convincing from him, there was no point in lying. You needed him. You needed the reassurance and sense of security he always brought you.
"If you're sure then⦠but Jake. You won't leave too soon uh?"
You heard his low chuckle in the distance.
βI promise.β
You slowly and quietly closed your window. The last thing you would want is for your father to wake up and see Jacob standing below your window. You looked back outside, only to see a giant russet wolf had replaced your tall friend. He was standing under the covers of the woods. Forks was a tranquil little city, but you could never be too careful. He gave you a quick nod, encouraging you to go back to bed. You sent him a little thumbs up before heading to your fort of blankets and pillows.
As stupid as it might have seemed, you did feel a thousand times better knowing that Jacob was right outside, watching over you like a guardian angel.
To your surprise, sleep quickly came to you, and you fell into its black hole without any resistance.
//
Youβre in a dark forest, running and running and running. You canβt breathe, your hands are bloody, everything hurts. All you can hear is an echoing, cold, cruel laugh. You trip over a root and fall. Something is rushing through the dark woods, coming at you. You get back up and run in the opposite direction, but it feels like youβre not getting any further, like you're running in place. You scream for help, calling out for
Jacob, Paul, Embry, Jared, ANYONE, HELP ME.
But no one answers, youβre alone, and youβre about to die a horrible death. You trip once more, your leg hurts like hell, thereβs no point trying to get up again. You turn around to try and decipher who, what, is running after you. Suddenly, in the dark void of the night, all you can see is that horrifying pair of bloodthirsty eyes. You let out one last scream as it sinks its teeth into your skin.
//
βY/n, y/n, wake up! Itβs okay Iβm here, Y/n!β
You try to run out of bed but feel a strong pair of arms holding you back. The embrace is warm and smells familiar, but youβre not controlling your limbs anymore. Your whole body is in flight mode. Luckily, the thing (person?) holding you back is strong enough to withstand it, and even though you try as hard as you can to run away, your feet aren't even touching the ground anymore.
You focus on the reassuring tone of the voice and try to convince yourself you're not in the woods anymore. You can see your surroundings poorly illuminated by your little mushroom night light. You're in your room, youβre safe, youβre okay.
Your breathing is still fast and shallow. You blink a few times. Sometimes, the vision surrounding you is one of the cold woods. On other, it's the familiar vision of your room. You slowly turn to face your friendβs face. His brows are furrowed, and his traits have worry written on them in bold letters. He scans you, not quite letting go of your body. Too scared you might start screaming and running again.
βJake?β
βYes, hi. Welcome back. You really scared me there Y/n.β
βWhat- what are you doing in here? What happened?β Your tone is feeble, and you feel exhausted. You look around once more, afraid this might be some other kind of twisted and terrifying nightmare.
βAm I still dreaming?β You dare to ask.
βNo, you are awake. Weβre in your room. You asked me to come to keep an eye on you, remember?β
You nod, still unsure. What if this was a dream inside a dream? What if the warm limbs of your friend suddenly turned ice cold? What if you looked at him and his eyes turned red, fangs slightly poking his lips?
He can see doubt dancing in your eyes. You don't trust him, or yourself. He holds up his palms towards you, trusting you won't bolt and run.
βSee for yourself. Iβm real, you can touch me.β
You reach a hesitating finger, carefully poking his own. Seems real enough, feels real. It's warm, the skin is wonderfully tanned, familiar. Youβve seen those hands at work a thousand times. You know them by heart. You poke his cheek, and he gives you a tender smile.
βConvinced?β
You nod once more, letting out a sigh you didnβt know you were holding, as your legs start to shake. That's the thing about dreams, isnβt it? Even if itβs only happening inside your head, your body reacts to it as if it were actually living it. You look at your hands, feeling reminiscent of the pain as if you did scorch them in the woods.
He interrupts your thoughts with a low and soft voice. βCome back in bed. Iβll tuck you in.β
He wraps your hands with his huge ones. Theyβre warm and feel incredibly good. You let him guide you back to your toasty blankets, but instead of leaving, he takes a spot next to you, shielding you from the window.
βWhat are you doing?β You ask with a timid voice.
βIβm keeping an eye on you, dummy.β Your feet are poking from under the covers. You move to offer him a bit of coverage, but he declines. He is already hot enough as he is, although he canβt deny that his heart seemed to grow a size or two at the kind gesture.
You wait a minute before asking how he ended up in your room. You're not sure you want to know, but curiosity wins over embarrassment.
His expression darkens for a second before he starts talking. βI was just keeping guard outside when I heard a noise. You were calling for meβ¦ I didnβt even think, I just got in. You were twitching in your bed. I tried to calm you down, I didn't want it to wake up Charlie, but nothing would do. I was about to forcefully wake you, but you ran out of bed and woke up by yourself.β
βOh.β You finally let after a few seconds of silence.
βYup.β
Unconsciously, you're not sure, he took ahold of your hand and lightly played with your fingers. He finally lifted his gaze from your joined hands to look at you, all caring and reassuring. You slide in closer to him. All you want is to feel his comforting warmth and maybe offer him as much as you can too. You feel so bad for worrying him so much. He opens up his arms and cradles you in a bear hug. He won't say it out loud, but he's also in dire need of comfort.
You match your breathing to him, and for the first time in a little while, youβre not scared, not even a little bit. If only you could stay like this forever.
After a few minutes of silence, in which you almost fell asleep, you hear him whisper.
βIβm so sorry you had to go through that. I should have been there. I should have protected you. Iβm so sorry, you don't even know.β
βItβs not your fault Jake.β You mumble, and realize you're telling the truth. These are more than empty words. Never has it crossed your mind that this might have been his fault.
βIt partially is, if I didnβt drag you into all this you might have been far away. Safe, away from monsters most people don't even know exist."
βI chose to follow you into this Jake. I would be lying if I said this wasn't one of the most horrifying experiences of my life, but it was not your fault. Please get that idea out of your head, okay? Iβll get over it. I guess I just need some time, as Harry said.β
You feel almost fully awake again. He nods, but you know you haven't convinced him. The look on his face is one of guilt, one you've come to know more and more since you learned about his secret. He mindlessly played with a feather poking out of your duvet, avoiding your gaze. Once again, you realized how mature he looked, while still being so young. Too young to carry such heavy burdens. You wanted to hammer the idea out of his thick skull, but you knew there was nothing to do about it tonight. Jacob felt responsible for what happened to you, and convincing him of the opposite would take some time.
Your eyes focused on his tanned skin, and you suddenly became hyper-aware that he was in your bed while only wearing his jeans short.
You inched away of him. βUhm, want a shirt? Iβm sorry, I didn't even think that, since you were in your wolf form, you uhβ¦ wouldnβt have one?β You let out an awkward laugh. You were used to seeing him like this, but it was different when you were both lying in bed together in a space that felt so intimate.
βThat's nice of you Y/n, but I don't think I'd actually fit into one of your shirts.β He snickers as you get up. You're still wrapped in a blanket as you forage in the pile of clothes next to your bed. You get out of it with a dark cotton t-shirt in hand. It's humongous for you, but you know it will fit Jake like a glove. Probably because it is one of his own.
βThere, dummy.β You hand him the t-shirt before jumping back in bed to wrap yourself properly, like a human burrito.
He looks at the piece of clothing and then at you for a good 10 seconds. βYou still have this?β
He genuinely looks surprised, but his expression seems mixed with a hint of⦠satisfaction?
You nod, your nose and eyes being the only part of your anatomy still out of the blankets. You still remember the day he lent you that shirt when you had been caught in the rain at La Push. You never returned it to him, loving the way the gigantic piece of clothing felt on you.
He didn't add anything else before putting the shirt on. βIt smells a lot like you.β He adds, a slight tremor in his voice.
βThat might be because I wear it a lot to sleep.β You shamefully admit. Your words are nothing more than a whisper, but you know he didnβt have any trouble hearing them. You pull the covers even higher, trying to hide the blush creeping on your cheeks.
βIs that so?β He's smugly smirking. No doubt anymore that he is satisfied with that new piece of information, which makes you want to crawl even further under the covers.
You mutter a quick 'dumbass' before turning away from him. He chuckled before grabbing and pulling you on his broad chest like you weighted nothing more than a feather. You and Jake have always been comfortable with physical touch, but you feel like this is special. You have never done this before. Fine the circumstances were a bit peculiar, but that did not keep you from relishing in the warmth he diffused in waves. You didn't even bother to fake protest. This, is all you need, and you will not be foolish enough to ruin the moment. He wiggles even closer, and you can feel his chest come flush with your back through the layers of blankets. He rests his chin on the crown of your head before lightly stroking the side of his full cheek on your hair.
βLittle human burrito.β He mutters. His voice is barely a whisper. Its husky tone makes you shiver. βIβll watch over you, now go back to sleep.β
tags/cw: angst, royal au, forced marriage, cheating, drama, emotional turmoil, power imbalance, manipulation
word count: 5.1k
If you stay long enough with something, you will learn to love it. Even pain.
βDo you, Suguru Geto, take Y/N, as your wife?β The preacherβs voice rang clear through the hall, a stark contrast to the cloud of regret shadowing his eyes as he said the two words that you have been aching, dying to hear from no one elseβs lips but his. βI do.β It almost sounded painful, like the cracking of his frozen heart, reflecting in his voice.Β
The shards cut your skin, digging deep straight into your bones but never missing the heart.
The priest's eyes flickered to yours. There was the respect that you get from everyone in that hall, the adoration from your peopleβhundreds, no, thousands of eyes glimmered as they stared at you. But none of them could take away the ice that slowly creeps up from the tips of your toes, and your fingertips, as the man in front of you stares at you with an empty gaze.
I fucking loathe you. They didnβt have to be spoken for you to know them. The hatred was as thick as the ground underneath you that you could almost hear his voice whispering it to your ear, thrusting it like a dagger to your brain, rendering you paralyzed. Youβre sure that if he wants you to remember anything from this moment, it would be those words.
The veil was lifted from your face and your eyes fluttered closed for a second or two. You hoped that the shade of regret you saw was just due to the threads of your veil but no. He was raging from the inside. You wished for his heart to burn for you with much love, just like yours do for him but no.Β
Upon kissing him, your body naturally leaned towards his touch. The softness of his lips washed away all the wounds in your heart. The feel of his hand around your waist, and his breath against your lips was enough to rekindle hope into your soul. You almost reached after his warmth as he pulled away from you.Β
There was warmth on your cheeks from how the love inside your heart overflowed to your head, reaching the soft flesh of your face. Yet, not even a split second was spared from his wandering eyes, searching for the woman who truly owns your most treasured inside his chestβhis heart.Β
A lady in a white dress stood out from the crowd and his eyes sought hers. You watched his Adam's apple bob up and down as he swallowed, gazing at her with soft, starry eyes. You canβt relate to her at allβyouβre just a queen who has everything yet nothing in the palm of her hands.
He looked at her as if even the kiss he gave you was dedicated to her and her whole being. He looked at her as if he would jump out of this altar, slide the ring off his ring finger, and throw it at your face if she as much as motioned with her slender fingers to come to him. He looked at her as if he would trade everything he had now for another day with her, whereas he couldnβt even bear a minute of skin contact with you.
βI now declare you husband and wife.β
The beautiful declaration was muffled but it was enough for you to hear them. The crowds cheered and whistled for the newly wedded couple, you took his hand in yours, ignoring how limp and cold it felt. He didnβt even make an effort to squeeze it back but your heart surely felt its crushing force.Β
You smiled your way out of the cathedral, ignoring the pair of eyes that burned holes in your figure. If they could be bullets, youβd be riddled with it by now, ignoring the way your husband had never once smiled at you ever since the ceremony started even and even as you looked up at him now.Β
Youβve been unwanted before. This isnβt the first time. You hushed your weeping, bleeding heart as you stepped into the carriage. Flower petals were all over you and you giggled lightly as you brushed them off your clothes and head before placing your hand on his thigh, almost begging for affection.
βYouβre my husband.β You cooed at him, leaning on his shoulders and rubbing your cheek gently on him. If he wanted soft, you would become the softest. You sighed at the silence that enveloped the two of you. The air inside was cold despite the closed windows. Your hand was gently yet firmly brushed away from his leg. βThis is all for duty, your Majesty.β He sounded hoarse, face dull and eyes empty.
βYou are now our Kingdomβs Prince.β You didnβt even recognize your own voice as you tried to cheer him up, reaching up a shaky hand to touch his face and turn his gaze to you. The hardest thing to do was pretend to be brave when everything was tearing you apart. There was sadness in his eyes. There was anger.Β
Perhaps this is grief. Heβs mourning for his lost love. The love that you killed. That you burned.
βYou are my Prince.β The sigh in your words made you sound gentler but nothing could ever top Aika; his only love. βYou shouldβve chosen someone else.β He spoke monotonously at your face, sending the smile on your lips crumbling down. Then, there was your futile attempt to pull yourself together.Β
βThereβs no better match for the position.β Your love for him was not the sole basis for your reason to agree on choosing him. Heβs smart and strong. He has a heart for the country. Everything that a Prince can have is in him. But another crucial thing for marrying isβ¦
βAnd I love you.β Youβve never felt so vulnerable in front of him before until those words escaped your lips. It was a product of the overwhelming, overstimulating wedding ceremony and the fact that you are now officially reigning alongside your first love.Β
But the look of pity in his eyes when he heard you say those words was the worst.
βDonβt blame me if it doesnβt work.β He whispered, pulling his hand away and moving to the farther corner of the carriage the moment you sped past the long line of cheering people. It was all for show to him. But not for you.
If you stay long enough with something, you will learn to love it. Even pain. Thatβs what you always told yourself.
βWhat wouldnβt work if you get to do anything you want?β The rasp in your voice is a warning: the tears are about to fall. Youβve been tough for years, you canβt let yourself fall now that you have everything you could ever want.
Do you really have everything you want now?
βVery well, then. I would like to visit the Princess of the Southern district every other night.β He straightened up ignoring the way your hand almost reached up to clutch your chest. The silence was long and your gaze was starting to irritate him. If it wasnβt for his promise to the former King, he wouldβve already jumped out of this carriage, threw away his ring, and swept the Princess off her feet.
It doesnβt matter if they donβt have everything. Hell, it doesnβt even matter if they donβt have anything. He will sell his soul to escape this life heβs about to face.
βYou donβt want the people to thinkββ You began, regaining your composure as you tried to sit closer to him. He used to tell you that your hands were warm. βThatβs why I said βnight.ββ He spat the obvious; the obvious that you tried so hard to ignore. The hole in your heart started to get bigger as the realization hit you.
He cares about the feelings of everyone in that Kindom, but he doesnβt give two shits if it will kill you. Heβd pretend, heβd hide his true feelings for their sake. But heβll openly declare his undying love for another woman on your face.Β
βQueen Y/N, I am not asking for permission.β He clarified and you canβt say βno.β Despite your difference in power, you just donβt have it in you to stop him. What if he leaves when he feels restricted? How will you make him love you then? Your brows furrowed at how crazy you sounded. Youβre not supposed to be like this.Β
βSo, that's your condition?β You straightened up, putting your hands on your lap. This is starting to feel like a meeting, a deal between two people who only want to use each other and you hate that. βDonβt put it that way. You know Iβm doing this for your father.β He fixed his collar, jaw tightening as if he deeply regretted ever agreeing to it. He probably does.
βLetβs just say it would ensure balance in our relationship. Since you went and did what you wanted, at least let me be with who I want. Even just for a quarter of my life.β He gritted the last sentence, sending ripples to your vulnerable heart. You nodded, blinking away the wetness in your eyes.Β
The castle has never looked so far before. And you had never felt so unloved before.
'You canβt be fucking serious.' Thatβs what he said in his mind as he kept his head bowed, right hand atop his left chest as he knelt along with the most respected warriors of the country. He did not dare look up. He can't find it in himself.
βMy father and I have a lot of respect for you. As a protector of our kingdom, I look up to you and admire your skills as a leader and heart for the citizens.β You began and he remained in his position, hearing your heels tap lightly against the marble floor as you walked down the steps from your throne.
βEveryone, you may go for now.β With a series of sharp salutes, the soldiers filed out of the grand hall, leaving Suguru alone with the Queen. Suguruβs fingers grew cold by the minute. What are you even planning to do? He can't get married to someone else.Β
Not when his heart is already set on pursuing Princess Aika.Β
You let a few moments pass before speaking again. βI want you to marry me.β Straight to the point. You felt the tension when you first declared that he was chosen. βPlease, stand up, Suguru. Itβs just us now.β Suguru doesnβt know if he should hate that you could be so casual with each other now despite your statuses.Β
Did you mistake his kindness for something else?Β
βLook, my fatherβs dying. I have to find a Prince. You know the rules of thisββ You breathed out, desperate and shaking after catching a glimpse of his eyes. His brows bumped together and his lips sealed shut. You can tell that he doesnβt want to do it. It almost felt like a barbed wire crawled up and around your neck, tightening with each passing second.
In your kingdom, if a woman is to ascend to the throne then, she must ensure a Prince by her side. Otherwise, she will not be allowed to reign and the next in line will take over. You used to think it was a dumb requirement. It was almost as if the crown was belittling what a woman could do on her own. Itβs been a rule for thousands of years that no one dared to challenge.
βIt doesnβt have to be me, Y/N.β He stood up, finally meeting your eyes. He licked his lips, shaking his head as he paced around. It made you nervous, scared even. βBut this country needs someone whoββ You proceeded to explain only to be cut off again. You can tell heβs trying to contain his reaction.
βThen, you have a lot of options, my Queen. It doesnβt have to be me.β He reiterated the last part with more force, staring deep into you. Before you could even stop yourself from asking the question you feared the most at the moment, it already slipped out of your mouth.
βWhy?β There was no answer and it felt like the sound of his breathing just set a timer for the ticking bomb inside you. All your life has been filled with whys. When deciding on this thing, you didnβt think youβd have one of those again. You didnβt expect Suguru would be the cause of it too.
Because thereβs only been a certainty with him. No wondering, no doubts. Just him.
βWhy, Suguru? My father and I talked about this and I-Iβ¦β You stammered, walking closer to him, agitated by your thoughts and the slowly rising disappointment in your heart. Out of all peopleβ¦ βWhy not you? Are you married? Do you not wish to marry? Do you not wish for a better life? Or are youββ The questions were asked slowly and Suguru hated that for a second he almost saw your motherβs condescending gaze in your eyes.
The one to whom all people bowβthe one who doesn't wait for an answer.
βBecause Iβm in love with someone else, Y/N! Am I supposed to throw that away?β He exploded, he sighed exasperatedly, taking a step away from you. βIf you want to marry someoneβ¦ if you want someone to take the role of the Prince, it wonβt be me.β You knew it. That damn trip to the southern district changed something in him.
βWho? Where are they from? Is it a commoner?β You displayed a straight face, void of emotions as your heart started to hurt. There was a pounding in your head, and the barbed wire around your neck finally drew blood. It is killing you.Β
βDo you have to know?β He looked at you with extreme disbelief in his eyes. You always respected his privacy even if you could easily coax things out of him with just your words. Just how low will you go for this throne? The throne you claimed to be not so interested in. The throne that raised you and broke you at the same time.Β
βI am your Queen and I demand an answer.β You hate to be like this but youβre starting to feel numb. Your hopes were high, and so the fall is harder, harsher to your already brittle bones; brittle from the cold, brittle from the beating, brittle from the pain you have felt up to this moment.Β
You watch him shake his head, eyes wide with surprise. Youβve never used your power against him, no matter how much the situation demands. He has always been a friend to you, never a pawn. But right now he feels nothing more than a commoner who has no choice but to kiss the ground you walk on.
βItβs Princess Aika of the South.β Your childhood friend. Your cousin. Indeed, sheβs easy on the eyes. Easy on the heart too because sheβs kind. Sheβs one, if not the most-liked ladies of the Kingdom. Not even youβa former princess who hails from the Central, the highestβcan beat her at that.Β
You nodded, murmuring an βI see,β which he probably didnβt even hear. You bit your lip turning your back at him, as you tried to fight back the tears. So, thatβs why heβs been going there more than his duty demands. Thatβs why he sometimes leaves your training to the other knights.
βSo, sheβs the urgent duty you sometimes use as an excuse during our training sessions?β It was a couple of months back, you didnβt even notice. Itβs been almost a year since the trip to the Southern District, when had they start to meet each other in secret? Do the other knights know? Why didnβt he tell you when you thought you had a close relationship with him?
βNo. I would never lie about my job, your Majesty. It was true that they required help with the South because of their declining economy.β His voice was clear, and honesty was thick but youβre not satisfied.Β
βWhy does it have to be you?β He swallowed thickly, catching on to the statement, a clear mockery of his earlier question to you. βThey need a skilledββ He began but was quickly stopped when you let out a snicker, letting your hands fall to your sides as you turned around to face him, eyes cold and dead.
βThen, you have a lot of options, Commander.β He has never seen you in this light before and it was true that the royal blood shines naturally when it comes to certain situations. At that moment, it felt as if you were slowly rising above him, intimidating him with your towering wits and power. He canβt even see the little girl he played with during the coronation day many years ago.
βY/N, you know they need the most suitable for theββ He tried to make the argument lighter than where it was going but to no avail as you once again interrupted him. βIf you could make that statement, then you should understand where Iβm coming from.β He was sure that he saw a tear escape your eye as you turned around again.
βTell your Princess that I, the Queen, would like to convene a meeting with her tomorrow morning.β You stated, running a hand over your gown, almost hearing his breath hitch at the command. βYou are to participate, Commander.β The statement was absolute and no matter how much he told himself not to fear your decisions, he still felt worried for Aika.
You wonβt hurt your own cousin, right? Youβre not like that. He knows you.Β
βU-understood.β With that, you left without even looking at him. Each step that you take away from the man is a stomp to your heart. You wanted to turn around and beg him but thatβs not what youβre allowed to do. To be a Queen is to be tough even in this heartwrenching situation. No matter how much you want to crumble for him.
This may be karma for seeing the fact that you need a King to officially reign as an opportunity to get the man that you want to marry.
You donβt know what you will say but thereβs just one thing certain in your mind: your marriage with Suguru will proceed.Β
βGood morning, Your Highness.β The Princess of the Southern District bowed before you with the man of your dreams beside her. Even supporting her as she sat down. He has an unreadable expression on his face, eyes asking for some sort of mercy albeit not knowing what is to come.Β
Heβs more worried for her than for himself. How absurdly romantic.
You had a chat with one of your head maids the night before. βDo not forget the power that you hold, my Queen. Even the highest of her district shall bow to you. Do not fret.β Taking a deep breath, you maintained your facade as you smiled at her. She looked so sweet and demure in her baby pink long dress. Definitely a match for your strong knight.Β
A flower and a blade, sitting together. What a sight.
It took everything in you not to scoff when she turned her head to look at him, smiling slightly. Sheβs always been the subject of comparison to youβhow more feminine she is than you, more delicate, more ideal as a woman. It irritated you before but never enough to hate her. Even now when sheβs the apple of your manβs eye, you still cannot hate her.
What the people do not know is youβre just as delicate as herβher as silk and you as a bomb.
βHow long have you been together?β You started, leaning back on your chair, watching them exchange looks. βNot really βtogetherβ, yet. Iβm still trying to prove myself to her, your Majesty.β Your eyes narrowed for a split second before looking down. You hate to think that youβre being a villain here.Β
βWhat do you say about marriage, Princess Aika?β Suguruβs eyes were on you, guarding your every emotion, every word that would escape your lips. βWhat we have now, my Queen, is only but a budding relationship. We still have so much to know about each other.β She laughed awkwardly, looking at him to see his reaction but his eyes remained on you.
βI see. Thatβs right. Marriage shouldnβt be rushed. Unless thereβs a good reason for it, donβt you think?β You took a sip of your tea, nodding as you continued, βIs there ever a good reason for it?β You tried to joke, only to earn another awkward laugh. After a little more chat, you figured this wouldnβt be as shocking to this Princess anymore. At least, it was not surprising enough to make her pass out.
βIβm gonna have to marry your suitor, Aika.β You addressed her by her first name, eyes softening as you watched Suguru stiffen in his seat. βPardon?β The girl was on the edge of her seat, quite literally, as her gaze jumped between you and Suguru. βIβm sure youβre aware of the ways of the Crown.β You looked down, feeling like you were killing two hearts at once. Itβs the last thing you want to do butβ¦
βDo not fret." The maidβs voice echoed in your head. Suguruβs loving gaze flashed inside your mind and once again, youβre determined. βHim? Cousinβ¦we have a lot of capable menββ She started, but Suguru cut her off. βItβs not official, we still have to talk it through.β His eyes were on you, clearly pissed, caught off guard at how quickly you switched the subject.
βBut the Crown is absolute once its decision has been made.β Her eyes watered, scooting closer to him as she desperately grabbed his hand, before breaking down to sob on his shoulders. Youβre starting to hate yourself as time passes. How he shushed her made you want to run to the balcony and throw yourself off it. Maybe that would be better.
βHeβs my fatherβs candidate.β You added, hearing her cries get louder. He looked at you with disgustβfor the first time in your years with himβyou know that he started to hate you at that moment. It almost made you want to take your words back but to do so would be to win nothing. This one decision can give all that you have worked and suffered for.Β
βIf that was the decision, then so be it.β After several moments of watching the love of your life desperately wipe the tears of another woman, she finally spoke. Eyes filled with defeat and hate at the same time. You donβt know if thereβs a worse combination. βMy Queen, I beg you to understand that my decision to give him up does not diminish my feelings for him in any way. I am simply leading all that could be involved to a better path.β Her words were daggers and you could sense their threat.
βThis doesnβt kill our love. I simply want him and my family safe.β It goes without saying that anyone who goes against the Crown will be punished accordingly. Not even the current head could change and erase the wishes of a dying ruler. Especially not one with enough support to back it with.
Everyone knows that the best option is Suguru. Even if you call every citizen of the land now and ask them one by one, they know that he is the best candidate. Born and raised in the castle, trained by the nobles and the most skilled knights, one could say that the only missing thing from him is the blue blood of the royals. There is no other person.
The next thing you know, the Princess is already bowing to you and on her way out with Suguru following like a lost puppy behind her, leaving you with your thoughts, the pressure chewing you alive and the guilt of having power. You felt like you couldnβt proceed with any of it anymore. How long do you have to force yourself into this man when heβs already planted himself in someone elseβs heart? Now, you have to claw at it just to get to him and hold him to you.Β
That alone is embarrassing and you just know that the younger you wouldnβt want to be this person. βAt least, make it all worth it. After all the sacrifices weβve made for you. At least, do something right.β Your late motherβs harsh words dug a pool of tears in your eyes. When have you turned into this monster? When did you turn into someone like her?
The ghost of shackles wrapped around your ankles was cold as you tried to calculate your debt. βI have no right to refuse. This is what I was made alive for.β Your head started to spin as you stood up, watching as Suguru turned to look at you with furrowed brows, βI will deal with my life if I have to.β He spoke to the Princess before allowing her guards to take her with them, knowing he was not supposed to be seen with her by the public. Not after he has been declared as a candidateβno, a chosen one for your marriage.
He canβt get her exiled without a plan for them. He loves her too much.
βIβll be meeting her tonight. And no, Iβm not asking for permission, Y/N.β You remained unmoving, eyeing him as he tried to stare you down. If heβs being honest, the look in your eyes almost made him consider taking you to the people of the outskirts. Maybe your mother did something that turned you like this.Β
βYou told me you would want to change the rules of this kingdom. But now youβre just another dog of the Crown.β He spat at you, blinking as he let the words sink in. You swallowed the insults, seeing the portrait of the Kingdomβs flag behind him. βAnd so is your woman for simply agreeing. Stop acting like a damn jughead, Suguru. You know why itβs not easy.β He shook his head, stepping away.
That night, you just know that they met. Probably making love somewhere in the South, bathing in each other's love while youβre here ostracizing yourself for being selfish, replaying his words and the way he glared at you before stepping out of the room you once happily chased each other in.Β
If you let him know and if you let him go, you wondered if heβd make love to you too for the first and last time.Β
β-------------------------------------
βPrepare my horse,β he commanded, wiping his mouth with a napkin as he stood to get himself ready. His eyes never met hers. Not even a week into your marriage and heβs already doing this to you. βI havenβt finished my food yet.β Your voice quivered as you dropped your utensils. βAnd what of it? Do you plan on coming with me?β Revolting. He dare mock you in front of the maids? You chose to hold your head high, swallowing the pain away.
βMaybe I will. So, she knows that I know and I am here.β You stood up, brushing your dress with your hands. He snickered, shaking his head before turning to look at you. The maids, sensing the tension, started to clear the room by busying themselves. βShe was there first.β Another thorn to your dying heart.
βY/N, we both know what this is for. Everyone in this castle knows what this is for. Whatβs the point of pretending to be in love when the publicβs not around to see?β He has a point. But this is not how you want your first marriage to be. You didnβt even get a chance win before karma bared its fangs at you and took a bite.
βSo, we pretend forever? Is that what youβre implying? And when heirs and heiresses are brought up, then what?β You made sure each of your words were loud and clear, trying to knock some sense into his head. The situation was cruel but how could he just let you endure it alone when he promised to be with you and crown?
βYou out of all people should know that an heir to the crown doesnβt have to come from the Consort.β He fixed his gloves, stepping away and leaving you with no words in your mouth. He was right. Your mother was the Queen Consort, and you were not even hers. Yet, here you are, reigning with a man who wants you to bear an heir from a different man. The Princess of the Southern District mustβve saved the world in her past life to be this lucky.
And you? You brought this upon yourself when you forced your heart on a man who already shares his with someone else. Truly a tragic queen.
There was no honeymoon for the two of you. βHoneymoons are for lovers,β He says as he tries to ice the forming bruise on the skin of his neck. It was 4 am and here you are, begging for a loversβ month or even week with him, in hopes of taking him away from the Princess. And of course, to try and win his heart.
βThe people will be suspicious.β You whispered as you sat on the chair in the corner of his room, watching the sky turn dark grey. βI am a soldier. They will understand that I cannot help myself to stay away from duties. Former or not.β You wondered if these were the excuses he rehearsed when they spent their nights together ever since you declared your marriage to him.Β
βI am tired, Y/N. You can stay but I cannot talk with you.β You fight the urge to ask him if you could sleep with him. Since the wedding day, you have not once slept beside him. And he never once even bothered visiting your chambers to check on you. But just like a woman in loveβ¦ you stayed.Β
And just when you thought he was asleep, you walked to the bed and watched him sleep. Your face reflected the exhaustion but your eyes spilled love. And itβs all for him. You leaned forward, bracing yourself with your hand, to give him a kiss when he spoke.
βIf youβre going to kiss me, do not kiss my lips. Anywhere but my lips.β He kept his eyes closed and his features relaxed. βYou kissed me at our wedding.β You wanted to say, and as if reading your mind and hearing your thoughts, he added, βThe wedding was a show. And actors act, Y/N.β With that, he turned to his side away from you to shut you out.Β
Biting your quivering lips, you straightened up and let your hand reach for the harsh coldness of his doorknob. Watching your soft shadow cast by the candlelight as you walked out of his room, you asked yourself:
Summary: Azriel had been your closest friend, made from the very same things as youβbirds of a feather, as they say. But you were not the girl he chose to fall in love with. So all you could do was love your mate in the shadows until the day you died.Β Β
Warnings: angst angst angst
A/n: Inspired by Birds of a Feather by Billie Eilish, but this is a more sad interpretation of the song. Hope you enjoy!Β
A flick of golden brown hair caught your eye as Elain tossed her head back with her lilting laughter. So soft. So beautiful. So charming. You could hardly blame Azriel for being so enraptured by her. To him, she was probably the answer to all his questions, all his insecurities and doubt. To have someone like Elain look at him like thatβ¦Well, it seemed like it had healed something in him.
Unfortunately for you, it had done the opposite. It had completely destroyed you. Torn your heart into pieces. Opened new wounds and old wounds. It had shined a light on every single insecurity you felt. Because you had been praying for the day that Azriel would look at you the way he looked at her. But that day had never come and it never would.
You hadnβt been good enough for him. Hadnβt been beautiful enough to catch his attention like Mor and Elain had. Hadnβt been sweet enough to serve as a beacon of light for him. Hadnβt been soft enough to bring him comfort.Β
You slipped out of the back door. No one even noticed your disappearance, all too happy in this new little family they had created with all three of the Archeron sisters.Β
Tears lined your eyes as you hugged yourself, slowly walking along the Sidra towards your apartment. You had been naive to think youβd ever have a love like Feyre and Rhys or Nesta and Cassian. Azriel had been right that night youβd overheard him in the High Lordβs office.
The Cauldron had gotten it wrong. It had gotten it all so wrong.
Azriel was your mate. He was supposed to love and cherish you. Not her. But he had never looked your way onceβnot like that. Youβd been best friends since the dawn of time, since you had entered each otherβs lives. But that was all the companionship he could give you.
On nights like this, you almost wished you had told him about the mating bond when it had snapped for you. But you had hoped and prayed that he would come to love you for you and not for the mating bond. So you never spoke a word of it to anyone and maybe that had been your mistake.Β Β
But you didnβt want a love that only existed because of the mating bond. You wanted a love that felt real and deepβwith the mating bond only serving as the cherry on top. You didnβt regret not telling him. But you did regret sticking around to watch him fall in love with another girl.Β
It didnβt help that Elain was the opposite of you. She was all sunshine and flowers, soft warm bread and honey. You were a creature of the night. You were the moon and its shadows, cryptic and grim. It was why you thought you and Azriel got along so well. You were made of all the same things. But he had always hated that about himself so really, it shouldnβt have been so surprising that he would look for someone who embodied the opposite.Β
It hurt though, it hurt so much.Β
You were his equal. You lived in the shadows as much as he did. Your soul was made from the same essence as his. You were birds of a feather. You were companions. He was the only one who understood you completely and you were the only one who saw him and loved him as he wasβdarkness and all.Β
You were supposed to stick together through it all.
Butβ¦he hadnβt chosen you.Β
You finally made it back to your apartment and hung up your coat before collapsing on your bed and letting the sobs ricochet through the utter silence of your home.Β
All you had wanted to do today was get lost in your book and forget about your own life for a few hours. That was what you had planned, why you were even in the private library at the River House. But of course, the Mother decided to spite you once again.
Azriel sat on the armchair across from you, fiddling with Truth-teller as he ranted about Rhysand for the millionth time. He was still upset about your High Lord telling him to stay away from Elain, even though he had completely ignored those orders anyways. As far as you knew, Rhys hadnβt brought it up again.Β
Your jaw was clenched as he brought up Lucien, laminating on how much Elain didnβt want him or the mating bond between them. You blinked away the tears that threatened to come. It almost felt like he was talking about the mating bond between the two of youβthe one he still had no idea existed.Β
Your heart was pounding in your chest, your stomach tossing and turning. You were so in love with the male sitting before you, so in love with your best friend. And here you were, listening to him talk about another girl the way you wished heβd talk about you.Β
You cleared your throat when silence finally overtook the library, your eyes darting to the fireplace that was lacking any lightβcold and dustyβthe same way you felt inside.Β
βDonβt you thinkβ¦β you started, not looking at Azriel, not sure you wanted to say the words lingering in your throat.Β
βDo I think what?β Azriel raised an eyebrow at you.Β
You looked away again.Β
βI donβt know,β you hesitated before continuing, βDonβt you think that Rhys might actually have a point?βΒ
You were still focused on the fireplace as you awaited his response with a bated breath. It was the first time youβd addressed his interest in Elain without being positive. But you just had to poke at it onceβjust once to make sure you were right in keeping the mating bond from him.Β
βIβm just asking,β you said in your defense. βWhat ifβ¦what if in ten years Elain decides she does actually want to give Lucien a shot? The mating bondββ
βIs godsdamn stupid, is what it is,β Azriel scoffed. βShe doesnβt want Lucien, Y/n. She wants me. We want each other. Is that such a bad thing?β
βNo, Iβm not saying that,β you grimaced, βBut what if you find your mate? Would youβ¦would you stay with Elain?βΒ
βOf course I would,β Azriel answered without missing a beat, digging that dagger into your heart a little more. βI donβt have a mate and even if I did, I would only ever feel sorry for her. For being cursed and shackled to me. At least Elain is choosing me. She is choosing me, Y/n. Over her own mate. If that isnβt love, then what is?βΒ
βI donβt know, Az.β You swallowed harshly, your throat closing up the further this conversation went on. You wanted to scream and sew your mouth shut at the same time. βIs that what this is? Are you truly in love with her?βΒ
This was it. The question you had been avoiding for months. And his answer would solidify everything. It would either put the nail in the coffin between the two of you or it would lighten the weight on your shoulders for just a minuteβgive you a modicum of hope to hang onto.Β
βI am,β Azriel snapped, surprising you with his sudden ire. He rose from his seat, his eyes narrowing at you. βWhat is wrong with you? I thought you cared about me. I thought you were my friend, Y/n, and youβre acting just like Rhysand.βΒ
You shot up from your seat, eyes wide. βNo, Az, Iβm sorry. I didnβt mean it that way, I justββ
βNo, I get it,β Azriel scoffed, cutting you off. His eyes were ice cold. He had never looked at you like that before. It made your heart pause. βYou just want me to continue being miserable. Because thatβs always been why the two of us got along so well. Both lonely and so unhappy and now that Iβm finally not, you want to drag me back down. Maybe one day someone will love you the way me and Elain love each other. But just because no one does right now, does not mean I have to give up my happiness to keep being miserable with you.βΒ
Tears welled up in your eyes, your lower lip wobbling. All you wanted was Azriel to be happy. It was another reason why you hadnβt said anything about the mating bond. Because he was happy with Elain and you didnβt want to throw a wrench into that. You hadnβt meant anything by asking him those questionsβonly wanted a bit of closure for yourself.Β
Well, you had gotten closure, all right. Azriel would never choose you. He was right. You were miserable and lonely and heartbroken. Why would he choose you? But you hadnβt expected him to be so harsh. A simple yes wouldβve done the same. Tears slipped down your cheeks and the anger from Azrielβs eyes was washed away.
But you didnβt stick around to hear his half-assed apology. You couldnβt. Not when your heart was being ripped apart in your chest, not as bile was rising in your hoarse throat. You dropped your book down on the coffee table before fleeing from the room, ignoring his calls of your name as you left.
Months went by, all meshing together. You had avoided Azriel since that day in the library. It hurt but being around him hurt even more. It was all you could do to protect your already broken heart. He didnβt reach out to you either, instead all of his attention went to Elain.Β
Elain who had finally told Lucien she would never accept their bond.Β
And so Azriel and her had finally proclaimed their love to the whole family. A family you felt yourself slipping away from bit by bit. No one even seemed to notice. After all, it had always been you and Azriel hiding away in the shadowsβcontent to observe and love from the corners of the room.Β
But now it was just you in that corner, all alone.Β
You stopped going to family dinners, stopped hanging around the River House, stopped going to training with the Valkyries. You began to disappear from their lives day by day. You couldnβt bring yourself to stay. Not when your mate was in love with someone elseβnot as they all started new chapters in their lives and left you behind.Β
You had overstayed your welcome. No longer Azrielβs closest friend and confidant. No longer Cassianβs sparring buddy. No longer an extra ear for Rhys to run court decisions by. No longer Morβs dancing partner or Amrenβs pupil to bully.Β
You became a shadow of yourself. Sleepless nights led to a lack of energy and focus. Constant tears led to being voiceless. You couldnβt even resort to alcohol because it made the steely barrier you had put up to block out the mating bond come tumbling down, flooding you with all of Azrielβs feelings. Happiness, joy, lust, desire, satiation.Β
It was just a reminder that you werenβt the one giving him those things.Β
But you couldnβt disappear the way you wanted to. Not when a new war started with Koschei. Despite months of not being around, Rhysand still sent you a notice to come to a meeting to discuss strategy and to inform everyone of new developments.Β
You wanted to ignore the summons but the thought of Azriel going into battle again without you around to watch his back nearly sent you spiraling. So you made your way to the River House, eyes on the floor the whole time as you stepped inside and hung up your coat.Β
You were about to go up the stairs to get to Rhysβs office when a hand on your shoulder stopped you. You spun around and your breath caught in your throat as you came face to face with Azriel. You took a shaky step away from him, your hand coming up to grip at your chest. The mating bond you had been trying to ignore shoved its way through your defensesβbombarding you with Azrielβs emotions once again.Β
His hazel eyes were filled with a bit of guilt and remorse. βY/n, I was wondering if you were going to show up today. Iβ¦Iβve been wanting to talk to you but you havenβt been around much.β
Your mouth opened and closed, no words coming out. You didnβt trust yourself to speak. Azriel hesitated for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck before speaking, βI never got to apologize for the things I said to you. It's not an excuse, but Rhys had just laid into me again about Elain before I found you in the library and I took my anger out on you when you were just trying to be a good friend and I am truly sorry for what I said to you. I didnβt mean any of it.βΒ
βItβs okay,β you mumbled, looking away from him. His words had felt true that day. Besides, what he said to you mightβve been wrong but that didnβt take away from the fact that he was in love with someone else. Regardless of his apology, there was no way you could go back to being his friend. It hurt too much.Β
Azriel seemed to be waiting for you to say anything else and his shoulders deflated a bit when he realized you werenβt going to. He gave you a weak smile before summoning something from his shadows. An envelope. He held it out for you to grab. You took it from him with a questioning look.Β
βItβs an invitation,β Azriel explained. βMe and Elain are getting married. I wanted to deliver this to you in person. It would mean a lot to have you there, Y/n.βΒ
You stared at the envelope in your hand.Β
Stared and stared and stared.Β
Even throughout the whole meeting with the Inner Circle, all you could do was stare at that godsdamn envelope. Because inside of it was the last piece of your broken heart, smashed and weeping. Azriel was getting marriedβ¦and not to you. To her.Β
So when Rhys announced his plans of attack for Koschei and how he needed someone to act as bait for the Death God, you were the first to volunteer because you truly had nothing left to lose.Β
βAre you sure you donβt want to sit up front with the rest of us?β Feyre asked.
You looked up at her from your seat in the very back of the temple, shaking your head. You gave her a blank look. βNo, itβs all right. Iβm fine back here. You know I donβt like that attention of sitting near the High Lord and Lady.βΒ
Feyre gave you an understanding nod. βOkay, but you will sit with us at the reception. Iβm not taking no for an answer.βΒ
You nodded to appease her, knowing you had no intentions of staying past the ceremony. You were only here for one reasonβbecause Azriel had asked you to be here and you could never say no to him. So here you sat, your chest empty and your eyes sore from the tears you spilled last night.Β
This wedding felt more like a funeral to you and in some ways, it was. You were saying goodbye to a future you couldβve had with your mate, giving up the final piece of yourself for his sake, and getting to watch him be happy and free, such a bittersweet feeling. All you had ever wished was that he could be happy with you but that was just a dreamβthatβs all it would ever be.Β
Elain looked so beautiful in her wedding gown, as she always did.Β
Azrielβs eyes lit up the moment she came through the doorway, striding down the aisle to him. He held out his hand for her, helping her up the steps to stand before him. They didnβt look away from each other for a single moment during the ceremony. He was so in love with her. So in love with her and not youβ¦never you.Β
The whole room was bursting with joy but not you. You were happy for him, of course. But you couldnβt help but feel that ache in your chest and everything that came with it. The hurt, the jealousy, the grief.Β
Had he even really wanted you here or had it been a pity invite? It didnβt matter because he took no notice of anyone but Elain. So when the ceremony ended and everyone began to make their way to the reception, you slinked into the shadows and disappeared once again.Β
The battle was over. Koschei had been defeated. You had gone through with serving as the bait for this plan to work. It had cost so much to finally take him down. So many lives, so much power. And you. It had cost you everything.Β
You were dying. Slowly.
But you knew this was the end for you.
Even if you could be saved, you didnβt want to be.
You wanted to let death embrace you in his cold arms.
You wanted to leave behind this life finally.
Everyone was still cheering and hugging with relief when you stumbled back into the war camp. You pressed a hand against the deep wound in your stomach, blood bubbling through the cracks in your fingers as you passed by everyoneβno one taking notice of you or your severely injured state.
Not until you made it to the main tent where the rest of the Inner Circle had begun to celebrate the victory.Β
It was Feyre who noticed you first, her gasp alerting the rest of them to your presence. But you were only looking at Azriel as you stumbled into the tent, barely making it past the threshold before you crumbled to the ground. You choked on the blood filling up your mouth, some of it trickling out of your lips.Β
Azriel shouted your name, pushing Cassian out of his way to get to you. He knelt before you, eyes wide with panic as he grasped your shoulders. In the background, you could faintly hear Rhysand shouting for a healer but you knew it was too late for that.Β
You weakly smiled up at Azriel. This is what you wanted. To just see him one last time. To let his face be the last thing you see before death came to take you. You reached a hand out, letting your fingertips brush against his jaw.Β
It took you being gravely injured for the mating bond to finally snap in place for him. You knew the minute he realized. The mating bond hummed in your chest but its song was so quiet nowβ¦so, so quiet.Β
It was slowly fraying as your life dimmed.Β
βMate,β Azriel choked out in a whisper, his hand resting on your cheek. His eyes were still full of panic. βYouβreβ¦Youβre my mate.βΒ
You nodded, coughing again and more blood slipped out of your lips and down your chin. Azriel shouted frantically for a healer before focusing on you again, his eyes searching yours. βYou knew?βΒ
You nodded again, your body sagging in his hold. He let out a panicked cry and pulled you into his lap. βHow long? How long have you known?βΒ
βA while,β you managed to croak, your fingers raising to caress his jaw again.Β
Azriel stared at you in horror as he shouted again for a healer. You could hear the pounding of feet and other panicked whispers but you tuned it all out. You just wanted to go peacefully. No screaming, no cries. Just you and Azriel for the last second of your life.Β
βWhy?β he cried out, wiping one of your tears away. βWhy didnβt you tell me?βΒ
βYouβ¦wereβ¦happy,β you struggled to get out, your eyes closing with the effort. Azriel shook your body, tears filling up in his eyes.
βNo, stay awake, Y/n, you have to stay awake,β Azriel pleaded with you. βThe healer is almost here, okay. Just stay awake a little longer.βΒ
βI-Itβsβ¦okay,β you mumbled. βWantβ¦want to go.βΒ
You coughed again, blood splatting your face. Azriel released a cry that nearly caused the ground to shake. βNo, you canβt. You canβt go. Youβre my mate, Y/n. You canβt do this to me!βΒ
βIβll findβ¦youβ¦again,β you slurred out. βMaybeβ¦maybe Iβll beβ¦good enoughβ¦.then.βΒ
You blinked once, your vision blurry but you could see Azrielβs beautiful face. Gods, he was so beautiful. He was screaming something but your hearing went along with your vision, slowly worsening until finally, your heart stopped beating in your chest.Β
summary: You meet Kita Shinsuke on a rainy summer day, with a sea of hydrangeas swirling at your feet. You know him instantly, as only a soulmate can. He seems like a good man. Like a good soulmate.
But it's your wedding day.
notes: this fic. i am so excited to share this ficβi've been working on it for a very long time and it very much feels like my baby. thank you to everyone who has sat thru me yelling about it <3
title and part titles are from hozier's "be" and "nfwmb"
tags (contains spoilers for the fic): soulmate au (first words), this is a very reader-centric story, reader and kita are implied to be in their late twenties-early thirties, slow burn, hurt/comfort, pining, partner death (not kita), grief/mourning, love as a choice.
each part will have more specific warnings.
part one: when i first saw you, the end was soon (13k)
part two: felled by you, held by you (16k)
part three: the best of you, the rest of you (10k)
Summary: The Targaryen name has brought nothing but misery to Y/Nβ her half-blood placing a curse upon her. She's observed the toll her presence takes on the people she loves; no longer wanting to form a close tie with anyone. Nevertheless, her heart steered its own course. And it steered towards a certain man.
Warnings: angst. allusion to r*pe and death, nothing descriptive. a steamy make-out scene but nothing crazy. not really book or show accurate but f it we ball. also fluff. also reader has dark hair so just pretend u do if u don't xoxo.
Word count: 10.1K (beginning just has lots of background lore pls bear w/ me)
In life, there are those destined for lavish living and those made to struggle to see their next day. From a young age, Dorea knew she fell into the second category. She grew up orphaned; never knowing the love of a mother or a father. Despite the fact, Dorea was strong willed; she found her own kind of love. Love for herself, love for her friends, and love for her life. She knows that she did not have the best life; her dresses had holes in them, she had to work from dawn to dusk, and she often would need to go days without eating. That ultimately changed the day a close friend of hers had come to her with a new line of work.
βOne of the castles maids was executed, so her position is open to takeβ.
Looking back, she shouldβve said no from the way a chill went up her spine. She had heard the rumors of the king having gone mad; but at the time, that was not her problem. Being a castle maid sounded a lot better than being a candle maker. All she had to do was clean the chambers and mind her business and pay would be given to her. The task sounded easyβ it shouldβve been easy. Dorea had ways of not drawing attention to herself. That is how she has made it this far in her life; from hiding. The peace of obscurity brought her comfort; being anonymous was a safe refuge that protected her from prying eyes and the entanglements of wicked connections. The girl was pure and innocent.
Yet, fate, with its twisted sense of irony, had other plans.
She truly had done all she could to stay out of the eyes of the royal family. She shouldβve been more careful, more attentive, more aware of the eyes that followed her unknowingly when she walked the halls. Her foolishness had caught up to her one day when a guard had dragged her to the throne room; thrown to the ground to kneel in front of the king, Aerys II Targaryen. Dorea was ready to open her mouth and beg for forgiveness on whatever crimes she had committed but was silenced in fear. βYou will meet me in my chambers tonightβ, he said. Dorea could do nothing but nod as she could not go against the kingsβ words. The only thing she could do was look to the Hand of the King for some form of help, but they stood muted. Moments later, she was whisked away by some female servantsβ some of them her own friendsβ and was prepared for the event. She was washed and dressed properly; never have been so physically clean yet so dirty internally.
Later that night, her virtue and gaiety of life was destroyed when the king came and took her. She had prayed to the Gods that it was only a one-time thing. But the Gods seemed to find her plea a joke. The king would request her presence many more times and many more nights afterwards. Her position as a maid in the castle vanished overnight. Now, she stood as something different; still, she did not know exactly what. All Dorea knew was she felt shame as those working in the castle started to treat her different, with more respect and caution. She dreamt every night for this nightmare to end, but it only continued.
βThe girl is pregnant, your graceβ. The maestar told the king. Both fear and relief spread through her body. Fear in the sense that the king would have her eliminated to hide such sin, and relief that he might just send her away forever. It had to be one or the other; from what she has seen, the queen is currently pregnant as well and due in a few moons. Furthermore, he already had two children born, why would he need her? Her thoughts were interrupted by the third alternative she had feared the most, βYou will continue to stay here. You will have the childβ. Later that night, Dorea prayed once more for all this suffering to end. Finally, her prayer had been answered in the worst way possible.
She had heard the talks of the rebellion, but she never thought it would come to where she resigned. The kingβs heir was now dead, along with his wife and children. The queen was now dead; dying from childbirth. The middle child and newest member of the royal family had been sent to exile. And the Mad King was now dead as well; stabbed by a member of his own Kingsguard.
Death and misery surrounded Dorea everywhere.
For her own safety, and her chance once again at freedom, she did what she knew she had to do. She ran away.
Dorea took refuge in a small village that resided in the Reach. Selling all the gifts and jewelry the king had bestowed upon her; she and her unborn child were set for life. A few moons later, Dorea gave birth during a warm summer night. As she held the newborn in her arms, she thought the Gods had finally decided to take pity on her and grant her some kindness. For starters, she had given birth to a girl. Dorea was thankful in the sense that the child would not be seen as a threat to the line of succession of the Iron throne. Additionally, the babe had no features of a Targaryen. Caressing the small amount of hair on her daughterβs hair, she was given hair as dark as night instead of the silvery-gold feature of her biological father. Dorea let out a sigh of relief once the girl opened her eyesβ no violet eyes either. Pulling the babe closer to her chest, she gave a quick prayer and smiled down at the sleeping babe.
Dorea named her Y/N.
As time passed, Y/N quickly grew before her mothersβ eyes. Both her and her mother were beloved by the village folksβ Dorea giving money to those who were in need, and her daughter who was tenderhearted and befriended all. No one in the village had known about Doreasβ past or Y/N true linage. And Dorea wanted to keep it that way. She, however, knew that one day it would all come back to bite her. Despite having run away, she knew that there were some people who knew of their existence. It did not help her case more when Y/N had begun to show a great fascination with fire; something the mothers of the village made jokes about, but Dorea knew the truth.
βYou have dragon blood within youβ, Dorea had whispered to her daughter one quiet night. βYou are part Targaryen, but you must keep this a secret. I am only telling you this for your own safety. There are people in this world who will want to hurt you, to take you away from me. Do you understand darling?β. At just the age of eight, Y/N was smarter and brighter than her peers. Hearing such solemness in her mothersβ voice, she nodded, βYes motherβ.
Such a topic was dropped and never brought up againβ that was until Y/N turned ten. Since Dorea had the funds, she had hired a tutor for the young girl. Y/Nβs instructor was a retired tutor who had taught many kids from noble homes before moving to their village. The old man was just supposed to teach her simple things like language, arts, music, and maths. Β Without her mothersβ knowledge, Y/N brought up the topic of history to her teacher, particularly the history of the Targaryen household. And thatβs where everything started.
It was one calm afternoon in their shared bedroom when Y/N had asked the question. βMother, am I cursed?β. Dorea, puzzled, stopped brushing her daughterβs hair and turned towards her, βWhat kind of question is that?β. Y/N looked sheepishly to the side and confessed everything, βI have been learning history with my tutor. Targaryen historyβ. Before Dorea could respond, the young girl continued, βYou say I am half Targaryen, and based upon their history, I must be cursedβ. Dorea questioned what she meant and then let out a loud laugh at her daughtersβ answer: βI have black hair motherβ.
Dorea caressed her daughters face, smiling and shaking her head, βDarling, your hair color does not mean anyth- β.
βBut its true mother!β Y/N exclaimed, βIt is shown all over their history. Rhaenyra Targaryenβs eldest sons were born with dark hair, and they all died before they could reach adulthood. Rhaenys Targaryen was known as the βQueen Who Never Wasβ and saw the death of her two children in her lifetime. Rhaegar Targaryenβs daughter was killed in the sack of Kings Landing. Valarr Targaryen was- β.
βWhat does any of that have to do with you?!β, Dorea shouted out, startling Y/N. The young girl felt tears come to her eyes as she hid herself in her mothersβ embrace, muffling her words, βThey were not pure Targaryen. I am not a pure Targaryen, mother. I do not wish to fall to such misfortunesβ. Dorea felt her heart break at the sound and thoughts of her daughtersβ troubles. Shaking her head, Dorea raised Y/Nsβ head and looked straight into her eyes, βYou are not cursed. Their misfortunes are not yours. Do you hear me girl? This is your life, and you control itβ. Y/N could do nothing but continue to cry. "It's okay, sweetheart," her mother whispered, her voice a tender melody that carried reassurance. Dorea cradled the young girl, whose sobs softened but still lingered, the remnants of a storm that had raged within her fragile heart. βI will protect you no matter whatβ, she declared.
Y/N would forever remember that loving moment, amongst the many others she shared with her mother. While Dorea had said she would do anything to protect her, Y/N shouldβve said the same thing back. Yet, fate, with its twisted sense of irony, had other plans for the daughter. Not even a month later, Y/Nsβ mother died, succumbing to a mysterious illness that took her in a matter of days. It felt as though the moment she acknowledged the said βcurseβ, her world only came to be filled with hurt.
Being only ten years old and now orphaned, the people in the village were kind enough to take the girl in. Specifically, it was a family of three that consisted of a father and mother and a son her age who took her into their home. The boy, named Tomas, had always been a close friend of Y/N. The two would spend many days together, playing and running around in the meadows. He would pick flowers for her and in return she would do the same. There was even one early morning when the two stood by their villageβs lake and shared a kiss with each other. Despite still being a child, Y/N felt as though she was feeling the love that was described in the fairytale stories her mother used to read to her.
Sadly, that love was taken from her as well. At the young age of one and three, Tomas had somehow fallen and drowned in that same lake. Y/N had never heard such a devasting scream as Edith, Tomasβs mother, held her dead son in her arms. The village was both in mourning and in query; Tomas had been taught to swim at the age of four, how could this have happened? No explanations were thought of, but Y/N had her own belief.
Iβm cursed, she would toss in turn in her bed at night, I am cursed.
Two more years would pass by, and no other unfortunate incidents would have occurred. But there is always calm before the storm. One day, something within Y/N had made her go explore the small forest that was near her village. It was nothing out of the ordinary; she had done it many times before. Yet, she stayed exploring for hours before that same voice within her told her to return. Upon seeing her village within the distance, Y/N shouldβve never listened to that voice. She wishes she couldβve stayed back and continue being ignorant of everything. Her villageβ the homes, the crops, the trees, everything, was up in flames. Running down the dirt paths, Y/N did not have time (nor did she want to) to acknowledge all slaughtered men, women, and children that laid on the grounds. A small amount of hope had sparked within her when she saw that her home was not ablaze. That hope died upon entering the residenceβ Y/N crying out in distress at the sight of Edith, the women she had come to see as her second mother, dead on the ground. Her sadness was turned to fear when she spotted a large man in the corner, angry and hungry for blood. Before the crazed man could run at her, he was tackled to the ground by Lanceβ Edithβs husband and her adopted father. He was clearly injured; covered in blood from head to toe but still had the strength in him to scream at Y/N, desperation laced in his voice, βRun girl! Run and do not look back!β. Y/N, not wanting to witness his clear end, quickly listened to his order and ran out the door, trying her best to stay out of sight of all the other savage men as she made her way out the village.
She mustβve ran for hours before she knew she was no longer in danger. A day or two of traveling passed by before she took residence in a small city. That same night, under a dirty bridge, she finally acknowledged all hell that had occurred to her within the past forty-eight hours. The dams broke as she cried and screamed out in sorrow and pain. She cried, and cried, and cried until she had no more tears to let out; now consumed by numbness. Her mother, her first love, her caretakers, her childhood friends, her home; had all been taken from her. What had she done to deserve this? With her heart broken into millions of pieces, Y/N decided that she wouldnβt live like this. Never would she fall in love and never would she form a deep connection with anyone again. She wasnβt going to let herself be tied to the Targaryen name, to its blood, nor its curse. She wasnβt going to let this curse win and see her suffer again.
And so, she did; well, she tried her best at least. With the little money she had on her, Y/N jumped from village to village, city to city, and made sure not to socialize with anyone. There were some instances of people trying to get to know her, boys trying to court her, but she wouldnβt stay very long and would be gone the next day. It was a lonely life, a life she despised but knew she had to endure. That changed a bit when she came face to face with a woman with a fair complexion and silver hair.
Daenerys Targaryen. The βMother of Dragonsβ. Her older half-sister.
Daenerys had always known about her half-sisterβs existence; her older brother one day rambling that the throne belongs to a true Targaryen and not the current usurper, nor the βTargaryen-bastard filthβ their father left behind. At first, Y/N was wary of the girl but soon found herself becoming fond of her presence. Daenerys felt the same way; with no family left on either girlβs end, they quickly found solace in each otherβ treating one another as the sisters they are. It was strange at first for Y/N; getting used to now having family once again and the companionship of dragons that came with it. Initially, she was terrified at the sight of the foreign creatures but quickly came to love them and their beautiful nature. She became quite close with the one called Rhaegal, favoring the dragon over the overs. Rhaegal doted and protected the girl the same; but still recognized Daenerys as itsβ rightful mother. Y/N could say she just held the title of βfavorite auntβ now amongst the creatures.
The thought of the curse still weighed heavy in the back of her mind, but Y/N hypothesized that whatever superstition was out to get her would not harm her sister; a true (and last) Targaryen. Y/N immediately recognized Daenerys as her queen and vowed to help her reclaim her throne. For some time, Y/N felt happiness once again entering her life as she spent more time with her sister and her allies. That bliss, however, turned out to be false hope.
βWhen the time comes and I reclaim my throne, I will legitimize you as a Targaryenβ, Daenerys spoke to her one night. Y/N wanted to decline right away; she was content with not having a household name and did not want to be associated with the Targaryen name. Before Y/N could speak, Daenerys looked shamefully down while holding her sisterβs hand, βThere is a reason why I came looking for...β. Y/N felt a chill run up her spine and quickly encouraged the Mother of Dragons to continue. βI am unable to have my own children. When the time is right, I will need you to find a man, any man of your choosing..β, Daenerys sternly said as she looked into Y/N eyes, βI will need an heir to inherit the throne and continue my family name. Do you understand sister?β. Daenerys felt guilt creep up inside her as she finally confessed her true intentions from the start of meeting Y/N. She was asking too much of Y/N but, she, however, was on a mission to reclaim her birthright no matter what. Y/N stared agape at her, no words coming from her mouth. She wanted to decline even moreβ but, looking into Daenerys eyes, she saw the graveness within them and the true tone behind her words. She was not asking this of her as her sister. She was commanding this of her as her queen. And Y/N would do anything for her rightful queen.
βYes, sister. I understandβ. Y/N now found herself tied to the Targaryen name. Something she vowed never to be but couldnβt escape.
As time passed by, Y/N kept her promise and stood by Daenerys side as she continued her conquest; now finding herself at Dragonstone, her sisterβs ancestral home. The preparations and campaign for Daenerys claim to the Iron Throne was in full effect but was interrupted momentarily.
βThe King in the North?β, Daenerys questioned one of her advisors who came bearing news. βYes my Queen. He sent a ravenβ detailing that he wishes to speak with youβ. Y/N, standing off to the side, expressed her thoughts and question, βI had heard that the King in the North was deadβ.
βAs did Iβ, Daenerys said sharply. The man before them nodded his head, βYes. There was an incident that had occurred that made everyone believe he was dead. But he is very much aliveβ. Daenerys raised her eyebrows up, skeptical about this so called βKing in the Northββ βAnd he trusts me with the information of his false death?β
βWell, according to his letter, yes.β
Y/N and Daenerys turned, staring into each otherβs eyes, speaking with them. Not much emotion was shown behind Y/N eyes, but she was able to express with them, βWhat harm is there in seeing what he wantsβ. Sighing, Daenerys nodded her head and agreed with her sister.
βSend a message back. Invite him here and let him know I agree to speak with himβ.
A few days later, Y/N stood on the shores, waiting to welcome her guests on the request of Daenerys. Once she saw the boats pull up on the beach, she made her way but stopped in amazement. Out from one of the boats came a large, thick furred animalβ a dire wolf. She had only ever heard about the mythical creatures and now she was in close distance with one. Dragons and now dire wolves; she held a small smile on her face at the uniqueness that was the world. Clearing their throats, the two guards behind her had snapped her out of her daydream, reminding her of the task. Standing tall, Y/N put on her best welcoming smile and stood in front of the party, βWelcome to Dragonstone. I have been sent by our rightful Queen to give our greetingsβ.
Y/N voice had started loud and clear, but slightly quieted down towards the end as she made eye contact with a man. A very handsome man to be exact, she thought to herself. He stood tall and strong, a lean build with dark curls and blue eyes as blue as the water behind them. He smiled at her and before he could open his mouth, the older man next to him spoke up. βI present Robb Stark. Heir to the Stark household and King of the Northβ. Y/N raised her eyebrows at the discovery of the handsome stranger being the King in the North. Turning to him, she held a sort of mischief but harsh attitude in her voice, βIs the King in the North unable to speak for himself?β
The men in front of her were clearly taken back. Except for Robb Stark who let out a small laugh. βForgive me, my lady, I am very capable of speaking. I am Robb Starkβ. He held out his hand and was charmed when she firmly grasped it and shook it; opting out of giving her his hand to kiss. Β
βI am not a lady. Please, call me Y/Nβ. Robb was preparing himself to compliment her name but was cut off by the same man next to him. βSheβs the Targaryen bastard, your graceβ. Though it was meant to be a whisper for only Robb to hear, Y/N was in close enough proximity to have heard it as well. Robb swiftly turned to his advisor next to him, giving him a crude look before turning back to the girl, βForgive the rudeness of- β
βNo, it is quite alrightβ she waved her hand, βIt is all true anyway. I am THAT Targaryen bastardβ. Robb nodded, gulping as he tried to ease the tension, βI have heard a lot about you...and your sister too, of courseβ. Y/N wanted to let out a chuckle at the sight before her; a gorgeous man trying his best not to insult her. βAnd I have heard very little about you,β Y/N voiced, βOther than the fact that you were supposedly dead, which I can see you are very much aliveβ, looking him up and down with her eyes. Robb smiled sheepishly, scratching the back of his head, βIt is a long storyβ. Y/N let out a βhmmβ sound, looking off towards the side to the dire wolf. βIs he yours?β
βYes. His name is Grey Wind. Iβve had him since he was a pupβ. Y/N nodded once more, noticing just how well behaved the wolf was, βHeβs very beautifulβ. Robb thanked her for the compliment, grinning widely, βI can see you are fond of animals. Do you have any of your own?β
Y/N laughed softly, shaking her head, βNo. I have children.β
Robb was clearly taken back by her words, a stuttering mess as he questioned her statement. βO-oh? You have children?β. Y/N could sense some disappointment in his voice towards the end as it cracked. Smiling, she shook her head. βNo. But I do consider them children. Just not mine. I am just an auntβ. All the guests in front of her were puzzled by her words but ducked down in fear at the sound of a roar from above. Looking up, she smiled at the sight of Rhaegal and Drogon patrolling the skies.
βSeven hells!β she heard one of Robbsβ men yell out. Turning back, she playfully spoke βMy children. Beautiful, arenβt they?β. None of Robbsβ men were able to agree or speak; still in shock. Robb, still looking up to the sky, laughed earnestly, βWell, they sure are an eccentric sight to seeβ. Y/N smiled more at his honesty, clapping her hands together, turning and speaking to the entire party, βWell. I believe that is a sufficient way to welcome you all here. Now, I must welcome you into the castle. Please come, the Queen is curious to known what it is you wish to speak aboutβ.
Upon greeting the Queen, Robb Starksβ words and terms were clear to her. He wishes to ally with her in her conquest to take the throne and create a fairer and just realm. βWe both have a clear enemy,β he spoke, βI want the Lannisters dead for what they have done to my family, and you want them off the throne entirelyβ. Every so often, Robb would cast his eyes off to the side to look at Y/N; something she tried her best to hide her reddening face from. βMy men, though small numbers, will be yours to use. We ask that in return, once you take your rule, you allow the North to maintain a degree of self-rule. We will recognize you as the rightful Queen, but we wish to keep the North the way it isβ. Daenerys nodded her head, asking her advisors for their views on the matter, and taking Y/N by surprise when she asked her as well. βAs I perceive it, the North is biggest land piece in Westeros. It would be better to keep them as allies instead of fighting them off. They recognize you as Queen, and the Stark household keeps the North in check for you, sisterβ. Daenerys responded with another nod, showing to be clear in thought at all the opinions given to her. The Queen stood up, still not fully convinced, but could not deny all the positives of the compromise, βVery well. I will continue to think about the matter. I will let you know that my thoughts are leaning more toward yes than it is no. For now, your men must be tired. Allow my people to escort them to restβ.
Later that night, Y/N made her way down the dark halls to the one place in the castle that brought her peace. She almost let out a small scream at the tall shadow that appeared around the corner, βMy lady?β. Placing her hand to her chest to control her tachycardic heart, she saw that the dark shadow was Robb Stark. βYour grace. You almost scared me to deathβ, Y/N laughed, βAnd please, I am not a lady of noble birth. Call me by my first nameβ. Robb returned her laugh with his own, apologizing for scaring her. βForgive me, my lad- Y/N. I was just curious as to why you are out so lateβ. She nodded her head in the direction she was originally heading in, βI can not sleep so I was heading to the library to bore myself with some readingβ she joked, βIs it not late for you to be awake as well?β. Robb gave a similar answer; unable to sleep and practically full of energy. Y/N looked down at the ground for a mere second before glancing into his eyes, βWould you like to join me?β. He agreed to her invite, thankful for the darkness of the night hiding his blushed face.
Dimly lit by flickering candlelight, the shelves towered, laid with books that held centuries of knowledge and wisdom. Robb made himself comfortable at one of the chairs available while Y/N opted for the window nook. βDo you come in here often?β Robb asked. Y/n offered a silent yes, trailing her fingers against the rim of the book she had chosen, βI have not been here that long, but yes. I come here every night; I tend to have trouble sleepingβ.
βWhy is that?β Robb questioned.
βNightmaresβ, Y/N replied. Her dreams were always filled with visions of her dead loved ones.
After a pause, Robb gave a βhmmβ; silently admiring the girl for not being afraid to show vulnerability. βThatβs something we both have in commonβ he gave a warm smile. Another quiet pause passed by until Y/N looked up at him, βYou say that you being alive is a long storyβ can I listen to it?β. Robb gave a slight nod, standing up to sit next to her in a close but comfortable proximity.
βI was to marry the daughter of someone who I thought was my ally. I agreed initially but something within me told me not to carry out my wordβ. He slowly reached over for the book that was in her hands, both hands brushing slightly as he took it out of her grasp, now distracting himself with it. βThe wedding still went on; I supplied another man in my place. But, there was bloodshed, and I was betrayed. I barely made it out alive, along with a few other men of mineβ. Inhaling sharply, he continued with his outpour, βAnd Iβm thankful I did. I have sources that tell me that even if I went along with the wedding, I was to be killed no matter what. The Lannisters long ago forming allies with the people I thought I could trustβ. Coming close to a finish, he looked into Y/N eyes, softly smiling, βI guess it was fate that saved me somehowβ.
Breaking eye contact, Y/N scoffed at his words. βFateβ she said with repugnance. Her reply caught him off guard, raising his eyebrows in surprise, βYou do not believe in fate?β.
Y/N took in a long sigh, shaking her head, βNo I believe in itβ, she gently whispered the last part, βWe just never have seen eye to eye. My fate only brings me bad luckβ. Robb took in her words, trying to calculate what he should say next. βI believe fate can bring both good and bad luckβ, he began with, βOne can say it was my fathersβ fate to have been killed, or my sistersβ fates to be held captiveβ, Robb swallowed thickly before continuing, βBut, it is my fate to avenge and save them. It is fate that has brought me this far; that has brought me here and to youβ, he slowly spoke while staring deep into Y/N eyes. She quickly looked away, hoping her face wasnβt red and was successful in controlling her facial expression. Clearing her throat, she spoke firmly, βYou must be confused; I believe you are trying to woo the wrong sister, Stark. Is it not my sister who you need as your ally?β.
Robb let out a low laugh, grinning widely, βThat may be true, butβ, he slowly scanned the room in a playful manner, βI believe that I donβt see your sister in here at all. So, no, I am not confused. I am speaking to the right sisterβ. A third pause passed by as the two continued staring, wating for one of them to speak or do something. Y/N was the firstβ standing abruptly, she moved her hair behind her ear and let out an awkward ahem. βI believe I must retire for the night. It was nice speaking to you Starkβ. Before she could make her way out the door, he called out to her.
βItβs Robbβ. Turning, she questioned what he meant. Smiling, he spoke, βYou can call me Robb. You say you come here every night?β. Y/N nodded her head. βWould you allow me to see you here again tomorrow? Or even spend some time with you come morning?β.
Y/N wanted to say no. She needed to stop whatever friendship (or relationship) was forming between the two before she got too close. Before her curse got to him. He had already suffered enough. Despite the fact, deep down, her own selfish desires won over. She hadnβt felt like this in foreverβ she wanted this feeling to last forever.
βYes. Of course, Robbβ.
Come morning, they spent the entire day together, including the night. The next day was the same. Daenerys had granted Robb and his men a longer stay as there was much to discuss. It was late in the morning that he and Y/N were walking along the shores, discussing the most random of topics. Both were making a great effort to make the other one laugh: sprouting different jokes and funny stories. They both loved hearing the sound of laughter coming out of each anotherβs mouths. A gentle breeze roamed the air, blowing through Y/Nsβ dark hair. Robb stood silently still, stuck in a daze and awestruck by her appearance. Swiftly, he removed his fur cloak and placed it upon her exposed shoulders. Robb gestured to the area around them as Y/N looked at him in confusion, βI thought you might be coldβ. She let out a small chuckle, shaking her head but not returning his cloak back. It provided her with a sense of ease. βNo,β she confessed, βI donβt run cold that easilyβ. Resuming their walk, Robb gave her a look of admiration, βYou would do great in the North then. Have you ever been there?β.
She answered with a clear no, stopping in her path to match Robbβs sudden cease of movement. Slowly, he placed his hands upon the cloak, further wrapping it securely around her. βI believe you would love it there. Maybe one day, you can come with me to Winterfell. I would love to give you a tour and introduce you to my mother, and hopefully my sisters too. Iβm sure they would love youβ. No further sounds were made; the distant sound of crashing waves serving as the only soundtrack to their wordless communion. Y/N leaned slightly into him β his closeness felt like a forbidden sanctuary, a place where she found solace and belonging but knew she shouldnβt enter. Y/N only response was a gentle nod and smile.
Many heart-fluttering moments continued to happen between the two. Stolen glances from across the table, hands brushing as they took their walks, laughter and smiles shared in the dark of night. There was an occurrence in the library when Robb had urged the girl to go to bed; taking notice of her eyebags forming from their long night of talking. βI canβt go to sleep that easily. And even if I can, I just have bad dreams I canβt wake up fromβ, she disclosed. They sat intimately close, sharing an intense gaze, both their features illuminated by the light of the candles in the room. Y/N could see every detail, every pore, every small scar that graced his beautiful face. She was caught by surprise, her breath hitching when he gently grabbed her hand, drawing small patterns into it.
βYou can sleep here if you wish. I will watch over you and wake you at any sign of discomfortβ. She wanted to decline, but there was something in his eyes that was persuading her. Y/N then found herself in his warm embrace, laying her head gently on his chest. She could hear every breath he took, every beat his heart made. Sealing her eyelids, he was the sole occupant of her dreams. She had never slept better.
Daenerys was no fool to what was happening before her very eyes. Sharing a private dinner with her sister, she brought up the topic.
βSo, you and the Northern have been spending some time togetherβ. Y/N nodded; not being able to lie since there was clear evidence in front of Daenerys. βHe is a good man,β she smiled, βVery kind to his men, to his wolfβ, she smiled even further at the memory of Robb introducing her properly to Grey Wind. She could still hear his laughter and the concern that replaced it when Grey Wind had tackled her to the ground with wet kisses. βWe donβt want to get that pretty face all slobbered up now, do we?β fondness had colored his expression as he helped her back up. The smile upon her face slipped away, a frown and more serious look taking over.
βHeβs very kind to meβ¦I donβt think I will be spending much time with him anymore thoughβ, she held her fork tightly in her hand. Daenerys questioned what she meant by her words. βPersonal reasonsβ, Y/N said in a somber tone, βHe will be leaving soon, and I plan to stay by your sideβ. Daenerys nodded her head, a part of her knowing that Y/Nsβ excuse was not the full truth. Itβs not an exaggerationβ Daenerys wasnβt a fool. She was well aware of Y/Nβs standoffish attitude; practically a hermit as she kept to herself, or Daenerys. She saw the reasoning behind itβ having an understanding of her past hardships. Additionally, Daenerys once tried to comfort Y/N during a nightmare of hers, hearing the word βcurseβ coming out of her mouth every few seconds. She badly wanted to comfort her sister, let her know that she was not cursedβ life was just not fair to everyone. Daenerys, however, said nothing. Y/N was the only family she had left, and she did not want to lose her so soon, especially to some man. Forcing a smile upon her face, Daenerys tried to hide the distaste she felt towards her own selfishness. βThat is good. Family must stick togetherβ.
As the hours slipped away, Y/N and Robb were spending their last night together in the library. Robb and his men were set to leave tomorrowβ all discussions and plans made with Daenerys were finalized. Robb, sitting across the room, was enamored as Y/N read to him out loud. It was a couple nights ago that they created this little routine; Y/N would read to him, and he would give his input at certain scenes. Right now, however, he was not paying attention to what was happening in the story. He was trying to memorize her gentle sweet voice, the way her lips moved with each syllable she said. Finishing a passage, Y/N put the book down to ask Robb his view.
βI can not lie to you. I was not paying attentionβ. Mouth agape, she pretended to be upset, throwing the small pillow she had next to her. Robb caught the cushion, letting out a hearty laugh that rumbled deep within his chest. Standing up, he walked across the room to her, placing the pillow behind her back. He knew she liked to read in comfort. Y/Nsβ smile was warm, spreading even more across her face at the words Robb spoke next, βYou have a pretty voiceβ. Shyly looking down, she quietly thanked him. Robbβs compliments towards her only continued, βAnd a beautiful faceβ.
Biting her lip, she was readying herself to change the topic, but he only continued more. βI remember when I saw you for the first timeβ, he sat down beside her, sharing body warmth now, βI truly thought I had never seen a more beautiful woman before in my lifeβ. Y/N chuckled, rolling her eyes softly and replying in a joking matter βAnd then you saw my sister and I was the second most beautiful woman you had seen in your lifeβ. Her heart quickened up when she looked up at him, no humor present on his face, only showing seriousness. βNoβ, he whispered, βyou were still the most captivating and breathtaking beauty Iβd seenβ. Silence filled the room. Without a word, he reached out, his fingers interlacing with hers. βI leave tomorrowβ, he spoke of the one thing they both had refused to acknowledge. βThat you areβ, Y/N said, her main focus placed upon their hands. Drawing small comforting circles into her skin, he asked her what she had planned for her future.
βMy future is a mysteryβ, Y/N sighed heavily, βRegardless, I will continue to stand by Daenerys and be with her when she retakes the throne. She told me that she was going to bestow the Targaryen name upon me, but Iβm not sure that is what I wantβ. Confusion etched Robbsβ features, questioning her meaning. Her face gave away a gloomy look, βI have never really been fond of my Targaryen blood. Daenerys is the only good thing that has come out of itβ, she said truthfully, βIβve gone long enough without a household name, so I donβt see the point in having oneβ. A smile graced her lips as she looked at him, βI wonβt lie, it is a small yearn of mine. To belong somewhere and become a part of something specialβ.
A pregnant pause filled the room. The only sound being heard was the burning of the fireplace. Y/Nsβ laughter echoed through the room; Robbsβ next statement finding humor within her.
βYou can become a Starkβ.
Shaking her head, almost wanting to wipe the imaginary tears in her eyes, she continued her fits of giggles. βAnd how can I do that- β
Robbsβ next sentence caused all laughter within her to cease, her breath getting stuck in her chest. βBy marrying meβ, he said.
Another pregnant pause. Y/N stared at him in shock, becoming a stuttering mess, βR-Robb, Iβ¦β. Before she could finish, he cut her off, taking both her hands into his now, βI plead that you allow me to speak firstβ, he smiled but looked ready to cry, βI have never felt the way I have when I am with you. You truly have stolen my heart, and I donβt plan on asking for it back. Come with me to Winterfellβ become my wife, my queenβ. With affection, he raised her hand and placed a gentle, lingering kiss on it, βGrant me the wish to spend the rest of my life with youβ. Robb had poured his emotions out into his speech, mistakenly only imagining what he wanted her reply to be. He was not prepared for what Y/N said next.
βNo.β
Furrowing his eyes, he dropped one of her hands but still held the other. Shaking his head, he began to apologize profoundly, βI-Iβm sorry. I thought maybe there was something between us. Did I ask too soon?β, he looked desperate in front of her, βI can take back the proposal. I can court you properly if that is what you wish β β
βNo. No, Robbβ, Y/N let her hand drop from his, both now becoming colder by the second, βI canβt marry youβ.
The tension crackled in the air as Y/N words hung between them, heavy and unresolved. The room felt suffocating, each second stretching into an eternity. Robbβs jaw clenched, his gaze fixed on the ground, struggling to contain his emotions and appear unaffected, βCan I ask why?β. Y/N bit her lip, her own emotions consuming her, never wanting more than to cry. βRobb,β she sobbed, βmarrying meβ being with me would only bring you hellβ. Shaking his head, Robb grabbed ahold of her face, staring into her eyes, βWhat nonsense do you speak of? That can be far from the truthβ. Y/N wanted to push his hands off her but was brought warmth by his touch, βBut itβs the truth. My presence alone carries a curse. All those I have cherished have been harmed and taken from meβ, he delicately removed the tears that were dropping from her eyes, βIβm not supposed to fall in love with youβ.
Robb didnβt know what to say, how exactly to comfort her. His only reply being, βthere is no such thing as a curseβ, which angered her to some extent. Standing abruptly, she screamed out in sorrow, βYes there is! My mother, my first love, my homeβ everyone suffered because of me!β, she started hyperventilating, burying her face in her hands, sobs echoing through the room, βYou have suffered enough Robb. I do not wish to cause you more miseryβ. Robb sprang up quickly and encircled her with an arm, drawing her in for a reassuring embrace. As she cried, he felt her body quiver against his chest. He rubbed her back in gentle circles, giving her a feeling of comfort and safety. βShhhβ¦β, he tried soothing her, βEven if there is a curse, I wonβt let it get to me, or you. I will protect you with entire life; you will never be subjected to such painβ, he leaned down and placed a tender kiss on her head, βI canβt let you goβ living out the rest of my life thinking βwhat if?β.
Shaking her head, she gently pushed him away, βNo, Robbβ. Y/N stared at him, her eyes reflecting her inner sadness, βThis is for my protection and yours. I would not have the strength in me to live if something happened to youβ. Walking swiftly towards the door, she ceased her movements when Robb called out to her.
βY/N. You deserve betterβ, he spoke truthfully and with sorrow, βYou canβt live like this. Someone as extraordinary as you deserves to be happy. To be lovedβ.
She gripped the door handle, almost hurting her own hand from the pressure. Turning her head, she offered him a pained smile, βMaybe youβre rightβ, she opened the door, βBut such fine things were not made for me in this lifetimeβ. And she was gone.
Y/N was unable to sleep the rest of the night, tossing and turning in her bed. Come morning, she mentally prepared herself for a conversation she knew she had to make. Standing in front of the chamber rooms Robb occupied, she knocked. A few seconds later, he opened the door, clear surprise on his face at her presence.
βHiβ, she spoke softly. Robb did not verbally reply to her greeting; opting to nod to her instead. βMay I come in?β, she asked, and Robb moved to the side to allow her to enter. Looking at him, his tunic was unlacedβ a clear indication she had interrupted him in the middle of dressing up. Y/N was informed that Robb and his men were to leave early morning; all they had to do was suit up and prepare their ships, and then he would be gone.
Facing him entirely, she gestured to his packed supplies in the corner, βI came to wish you a safe journey. I enjoyed our time togetherβ. Robb registered her words, taking a deep breath, βThank you, my ladyβ. She didnβt have the strength to correct him. All the while, Robb was struggling to tie up the last laces of his tunic. His hands were shaking. Walking slowly to him, she reached for his hands, moving them away to replace them with hers, βAllow meβ. Β Robb felt a fire ignite inside him as her gentle touch sent a chill down his spine. Focused on her work, Y/N laced up the complex pattern, her breath quickening as her fingertips touched his bare chest. Finishing up the last lace, she patted his chest and smiled up at him, βThere. All doneβ. She only took one step back before Robb wrapped his arm around her waist, pushing her back to him. Y/N gaze softened, a silent acknowledgement passing between them. Slowly and hesitantly, she placed her hand upon his cheek, caressing him. Stretching her neck, she placed a small kiss on his lips, pulling away in mere seconds before either of them could comprehend it. Robb did the same; the two now sharing their second kiss.
For a while, they stood in each otherβs embrace in silence. Robb took the next step, closing the small distance and cupping her face in his hands. With a mixture of yearning and desire, she leaned into his touch, gazing up at him as her heart ached. Reaching down, he kissed her with longing and tenderness. Y/N reciprocated right away, moving her mouth with his to match his rhythm. This kiss was longer, both wanting to savor the moment a bit more. The kiss had started off slowly but quickly came alive as they both deepened it. Robb fingers wove into her hair, pulling her closer to him; despite being as physically close as possible. Y/Nsβ body felt on fire; Robbβs touch both gentle yet firm as he traced her body with his other hand. Gasping into his mouth, she was taken by surprise (but did not fight off) at Robb picking her up by the thighsβ walking to the small table in his room and dropping her on it. Opening her legs widely, he stood between them, both breathing heavily as theyβre lips continued pressing together. Y/N did not know what to do with her hands, moving them all across his body and landing upon his hair, tugging slightly at his roots. Robb was the same; still opting to trace his hands across her thighs and up her breastsβ igniting a moan out of her moth that he swallowed with his. Both their lips parted slightly, allowing them to slip their tongues into each otherβs.
The room was heating up by the second. The only sounds that could be heard were their muffled groans and heavy breathing. Parting away, Y/N went to work to unlace his tunicβ undoing her work. There was some urgency in the way her hands moved, Robb staring at her, intoxicated by her face contoured in rapture. He went straight for her dress, moving the fabric down to expose her shoulders, planting kisses on her. Y/N let out a loud whimper; the feeling of Robb biting into her neck sending a jolt of pleasure and goosebumps over her body. Grabbing his jaw, she returned her attack on his lips; their kiss now getting sloppier by the second, teeth almost clashing against. Y/N was readying herself to further pull her dress down but was interfered by Robb pulling away. Almost desperate like, she chased his lips but was denied.
βNo,β Robb spoke, almost sounding to be in pain. His breath was ragged, chest moving up and down and fist clenched to his side, βNot like thisβ. Y/Nsβ common sense returned, slightly embarrassed that her hunger for him had taken over her completely. She was thankful that Robb had the strength and respect to keep her virtue safe. A few moments passed and their breathing became stable once again. Y/N watched as Robb gazed down at her, his lips red and bruised. Taking a hold of her face in his hand, Robb placed his forehead against her, βI love youβ. Y/N could do nothing but nod, wrapping her arms around his torso, βI knowβ.
He smiled sheepishly at her, caressing her cheek, βWrite to me at least. Please. Write to me about anythingβ¦even if you have nothing to talk about. I will always send a reply back. I promiseβ. Β She gave him a tight-lipped smile, kissing his hand lightly, βIβll tryβ. Robb knew she was lying. As they held each otherβs gaze, time appeared to stop and the outside world became less significant. With one last kiss to her temple, Robb picked up his belongings and went out the door.
Y/N waited a decent number of minutes to pass before she exited the roomβ making sure there were no prying eyes around. She was hurrying towards her own chambers; wanting to be alone and allowed let all her tears fall free. She didnβt make it far, stopping in her movements at the sound of someone calling her name.
βY/Nβ, Daenerys called out at the end of the hallway. Approaching her, she offered her sister a happy smile, βI was looking all over for you. I came to see if you wanted to bid the North men a goodbye- β, Daenerys stopped talking momentarily. Her eyes taking in Y/N disheveled appearance, and the obvious love mark on her neck. βBut I can see you mustβve already given your farewell to the King in the Northβ, she teased.
Y/N nodding, staring down at the ground with her hands picking at the skin around her nails, βYes, I have. So, I have no need to bid them a further goodbye. If you excuse me, I will retire for the dayβ. She was barley able to turn her body around before Daenerys grabbed hold of her forearm. βHold onβ, Daenerys said letting out a low chuckle, βIt is still early morning. Why would you retire so soon- β. Her amusement dwindled into silence, fully grasping the emotions displayed on her little sistersβ face. βWhatβs wrong? What happened?β, she inquired anxiously and hastily, βDid that Stark boy do something to you?β, now anger appearing in her voice. Y/N was quick to deny her accusations, βNo. He did nothing. Itβs what Iβve done to himβ. The queen placed a comforting embrace around her sistersβ figure, soothing her hair. βHe offered me a marriage proposal, Danyβ she sobbed into her shoulders, βAnd I told him no. I broke his heartβ. Daenerys said nothing to the information given to her. Β A short interval of silence ensured; disrupted by Daenerys taking in a deep breath.
βDo you love him?β.
She hadnβt expected such a direct question from Daenerys, especially about something she had been trying to conceal. Y/N hesitated for a momentβ deciding there was no use in denying it, βI doβ.
The older sister pulled away, smiling down lovingly at her, βThen why not go be with him?β. Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, stumbling over her words, βBecause I promised to stick by your side. To help you,β she defended. Staring back at the floor, Y/N inhaled deeply, βBecause I am cursed- β
βThat is a load of shitβ, Daenerys cut in. Y/N gaped at her older sister in disbelief for her vulgar language directed at her. Daenerys persisted with her speech, βYou are not cursed, Y/N. Our history might show that our ancestors without the inherited Targaryen traits suffered greatly, but that does not mean all of them willβ. Putting both hands on her shoulder, she reassured Y/N, βI know that in their lives they were still able to experience contentment and love. And you should tooβ.
Whispering softly, Daenerys hold on her sister tightened, βYou've gone through a lot, and life has made it difficult to look past your own suffering, I won't deny that. But you need not forget the positive impact that you have on others around you. You undoubtedly brought happiness and love into the lives of your mother as well as those from your pas, and me toot. I'm even more positive that you introduced that into Robb Starks' life as wellβ.
Daenerys took a moment to recover after her extended address; watching Y/N register every world she spoke. Placing a gentle hand on her face, Daenerys gave her final say, βSo, why not go be with him?β.
Y/N didnβt answer her question; instead, she sprang and encircled her sister in a warm hug. βThank you, Dany,β, she expressed her heartfelt thanks. Daenerys words had opened her eyes; Y/N was not brought into this world to fear itβ she was brought in it to appreciate its gifts. The gifts being family, happiness, and love. Daenerys suppressed a laugh that wanted to escape her lips. Pushing the girl slightly, she encouraged her further, βNow go and tell him. Rhaegal will be sad but heβll liveβ. Y/N was quick to turn and follow after Robb, but stopped abruptly at Daenerys calling out to her.
βDonβt marry him too soonβ. Panic coiled in the pit of her stomach at the thought that Daenerys was taking back what she said. The older sister waved her hand, shooing the girl away, βI just meant that I wish to be present at the wedding. Now, goβ.
Robb stood beside a couple of his men and advisor at Dragonstoneβs port. He watched his men load up the ships, trying to listen to what his advisor was saying but his mind was elsewhere. He came here to acquire the Dragon Queen as his allyβ and now he leaves with that success and a broken heart. He traced back the memory of their times together, the warmth of her hands completely enclosing his, the way her eyes sparkled with every grin. A longing buried deep in his chest arose with every thought of Y/N. It was a bittersweet anguish. His advisor next to him cleared his throat, grabbing his attention when he nudged Robbsβ side, βYour graceβ. Following the direction of his advisorβs eyesight, his own landed on Y/Nβ clearly out of breath and showing urgency.
βY/Nβ, he called out. Robb was quick to grab ahold of her forearms, inspecting her body for any signs of injury, βAre you okay? Is there something wrong?β he asked, concern shown deep in his eyes. Y/N nodded her head, calming down her breathing as she watched his men leave to give them privacy. Staring up at him, she confessed, βI will not write to youβ. Robbsβ brows drew together in a frown, feeling as though she was taking a jab at his sorrows. A normal reaction would be to spit fire back, but he was too in love with her.
Swallowing thickly, he responded, βI figured that already- β
βNo, let me finishβ she interrupted him, βI will not write to youβ¦because I am coming with youβ. His eyes widened in disbelief at the statementβ not given time to properly respond once again. Swallowing the lump in her throat, her palms grw clammy, βRobbβ¦I love youβ. At last, he managed to respond, "You do?" with a tone that hinted at both surprise and joy. Y/N nodded, vulnerability showing in the blush of her cheeks and grabbing a hold of his hand, βYes. I shouldβve told you from the start and I shouldβve said yes to your proposal- β, she sucked in a trembling breath, βI care about you deeply and Iβve never felt this much love for anyoneβ. Y/Nsβ heart raced as her words lingered in the crisp morning air. With a subtle shake of her head, she redirected the conversation. βThough Iβve come to see the foolishness in it; I still donβt know if my curse is real or not. All I know is that I wish to spend every minuteβ every second of my life with youβ. Biting her lip gently, she broke eye contact with him, βIt is a big risk, I kno- β.
βA risk I am willing to takeβ, Robb finally cut her off, βI would do anything for you.β In their moment of confession, they wrapped each other in a tight embrace. With their foreheads resting against each other's, a warm yet hesitant smile spread across Y/N face. βSo,β she spoke shyly, βis that tour of Winterfell still up for grabs?β
Robb reciprocated her smile with his own, gently lifting his hands to touch her bottom lip. βYes. It still isβ he breathed out, βAnd my proposal tooβ. With a gentle tilt of her head, Y/N moved in closer, βThen I say you take me to Winterfell and make me your wifeβ. Their lips meet in a tender and heartfelt kissβ all their troubles now resolved. A quiet vow of eternity was spoken as their lips moved in rhythm. A familiar roar was heard; Y/N breaking the kiss and laughing as she took notice of Rhaegal in the sky. Robb found himself smiling even more at the sight of her joy; pulling her closer to him.
A cheeky grin formed across her face, βI think Lady of Winterfell has a nice ring to it, donβt you?β
Robb chuckled, caressing her face, βI think Queen of Winterfell sounds nicer. I also think the title of βRobb Starksβ Wifeβ suits you even moreβ. Y/N jokingly jabbed her elbow into his side, slightly squeaking as Robb reclaimed her lips in his. They both were filled with excitement and anticipation for what their future together awaited.
(Iβm nicer than GRRM and believe in happy endings π)
PART 1: Y/N Myrrton is set to marry the King in the North, Robb Stark. Unfortunately, theyβre both in love with other people.
PART 2: Y/N attempts to come to grips with the fact that her husband-to-be has no plans to be faithful to her. Robb tries to make an effort with his bride-to-be. No matter how prissy she seems.
PART 3: The wedding arrives as do guests from all over the North, and one from Castle Black.
PART 4: The day of the wedding arrives, and though Y/N is drowning in dark memories, she forces on a brave face for her new husband.
PART 4 1/2: Robb is crushing underneath the weight of his responsibilities, and with his wedding looming, there seems to be no end to his plight.
PART 5: Robb and his wife attempt to grow closer.
PART 5 1/2: Robb's Queen falls ill and he is not quite sure how to handle it.
PART 6: The Queen considers whether it is time to move on with her life, but the past is not so easily buried.
Robb Stark had kept his oath to house Frey and married you as a result allowing him to win the northβs independence however he now has to live with the sacrifices of duty and must find out if duty is truly the death of love.
word count: 3,992
CW: MDI 18+, slight smut, p in v, angst, arranged marriage, infidelity, childbirth, unhealthy dynamic, toxic relationship? open ending, pregancy, not proofread!
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dividers by @zaldritzosrose
Duty.
The word rang in your head as you stared at your husband.
He was yours; you were his but as his eyes wandered across the hall you knew he was not entirely yours.
A mere hour into your marriage and you already felt the strain of an unfaithful husband.
The longing looks he gave her form across the room were the looks you had wished to feel.
You were the youngest daughter of Walder Frey and his sixth wife, Bethany Rosby, and though your older sister Roslin was often called beautiful, you were considered beautiful. It was the one-word Robb stark had said when he saw you, the only word he had said to you beside your wedding vows.
He hadnβt even spared you a glance since the ceremony, most of your conversations had been with his mother, Catelyn. She had been kind, having been the one that choose you as his bride. But you knew it was not your beauty that she chose you for, it helped of course, pleasing Robb if only by a little. You were neither smart, cunning or wise. You were simple normal, with no special skills to sway the eyes of suitors or to persuade your husband. She choose you, the often forgotten daughter, with no influence or means to gain any, for that reason alone.
It was clear to anyone the marriage and alliance was an unwanted one. Especially to your husband and the woman he loved.
He did not dance with you once, offering no words beside the necessary pleasantries, the kindest act he seemed to do was forbade the bedding ceremony. Though there was little bedding done that night, though the act was done, he neither spoke a word to her or stayed the night. And from the whispers she heard the next day it seemed he had gone to her swiftly after.
He had left after that, though he did not say goodbye, or offer to write to you. You were simply left with his mother, set to journey to the Winterfell.
The journey as not long, taking less than two weeks before you saw the peak of Winterfellβs towers. It was a wonderful sight, having never left the twins, and rarely being allowed outside. Seeing the castle of Winterfell was a freeing experience. There seemed to be endless halls, some bare and empty allowing the privacy you had never once had in the twins. The godβs woods was even more magnificent than you had expected, it expanded for acres, with endless trees and countless springs waring both the gods woods and the castle. You felt some peace here, but you had also never felt more alone.
You were looked at as an outsider, talked to as one, and it was clear you were unwanted.
As the moons passed, you felt even more alone, you only heard about Robbs victory through his mother, the one person who didnβt talk to you with resentment.
Then you realised you had yet to bleed since your wedding.
And the word duty once again rang in your head.
You were pregnant, a fact that made you seemed more welcome, people were kinder to you. And yet you felt more alone, suddenly surrounded by people who only cared for you know you cared the heir.
The heir to a man you did not know, the heir to a man who scorned you on the day of your wedding for another woman. He didnβt even have the respect to at least act like a loyal husband.
You had done your duty, but he had not.
For it seemed she was also pregnant.
You were far along in your pregnancy, near eight moons when you heard the news. The news that was accompanied by your husbandβs victory. And the norths independence. Yet you felt little joy only envy at the news of her pregnancy. Envy that she gets to know him and he never once tried to let you know him, even in the fleeting hours they did have together.
The next month was lively, the keep full of servants and lords from all over the north preparing for their kings arrival. The planning of feasts and several other northern events to be held. And you did not know what to think, you had long craved to know your husband, but he seemed to want to forget you even existed, and even more so when he arrived, with her on his arm and a babe in hers.
You bowed your head, clutching your belly protectively as if their presence would harm the babe somehow, and greeted him βhusband.β You spoke plainly, not in joy, nor as a move of possessiveness towards her.
He nodded his head, going to greet you in the same fashion but stopping himself at the sight of your belly. βwifeβ he said in shock, as if the very idea of you being pregnant or here for that matter was shocking.
You smiled, a forced smile and spoke softly, βcome, husband we have much to discussβ
She had stayed put, looking lost among the faces of Winterfell.
Though you had started out a stranger those first few months, after your pregnancy was announced, though you had at first received false pleasantries to win your favour, a time that made you feel even more alone. Now you felt rather comforted by the halls and the people with in it.
You took your time to win over the people inside the walls, though you never felt that you could truly be yourself ,as you did not know entirely who you were anymore, but none the less, you no longer felt like a stranger, even Catelin had even started to heavily involve you into the running of Winterfell, and her kindness became truer to you, even more so when news of your husbands bastard spread.
Your basic and natural kind behaviour had one the loyalty of many of the people of the north as they sneered at her, shunning her away as they welcomed the victors back from war.
And from the kind smiles you received as you walked the halls to your chambers, chambers the lord and lady of Winterfell had traditionally shared. It had not crossed your mind about were you would know sleep. Never having shared the bed with another, not knowing what it is to share a bed, let alone with a man. It was also your belongings that filled the room, your tapestries and art, your nicknacks and clothes. His had either gone with him or remained in his old chambers, but know she supposed he was fully with in his rights to move in and perhaps even throw her out.
She did not know if he weas cruel enough to do so, or kind enough to let her stay. You only knew of him through the view of others, mainly his mother. An opinion you held Β Β with restraint, seeing as what mother would not love her son.
He stared at you awkwardly once you entered the room, the realisation of never once talking alone coming to light for you both.
βyour with child?β he asked after a moment.
You snorted βof courseβ you said βthough I doubt you care much, seeing as you already have a babeβ
βiβ¦β he looked down ashamed, βI do care, thoughβ¦.though we barley know one anotherβ¦ I am your husbandβ
You snorted again, βreally? And where exactly has my husband been? Not once have you acted like one, the only husbandly act you had done was to take my maidenhead!β you were mad, for so long you had been nice and kind, acting as if you cared not for his actions and now months of anger was finally spilling out of you.
He coughed awkwardly, clearly not expecting you to say something like that, especially as one of the first things you had said to him.
βiβ¦I you are right?β he said, clearly unsure of what exactly to say, βI should have said something to you, told you of Talisaβ
Talisa.
So that was her name.
βor at least have waited until after we were- β
βuntil it wasnβt our wedding day?
βyesβ he looked down, βthough Iβ¦ I will admit I do not regret loving herβ
Loving her.
Hearing it hurt, though you supposed you had to right to feel hurt.
You huffed, your eyes downcast, βmust you admit it so freely? I understand we do not know each other, that you did not want this marriage, but it is our duty, and Iβ¦β you took a deep breath, looking up at him βI want respect, I want to be treated like a wife, and notβ you couldnβt bring her self to say it, you were a woman scorned, scorned by your husband and yet he was a stranger, and in his eyes you hadnβt earns the respect you deserved. ββ¦not like-β you didnβt say it, he did.
βLike a duty?β He looked at you, βbecause thatβs all that you are, a dutyβ he seemed to sneer βI once desired a marriage of love and then I was told I would have to marry a Freyβ he hissed the name, βat first I hoped to find love with my wife, a wife I would not little say in, then I met herβ you knew he didnβt mean you, how could he? βTalisaβ he whispered βI love her more than I thought possible, and then I met you.β He shook his head β you are beautiful, more so than she I will admit that, but I do not love you, and I very much doubt I ever will.β
βWhy?β You asked, stopping him before he could saying anything more.
He swallowed βhow can i? I do not know you-β
βThen get to know me!β You interrupted, moving closer to him, βwe are to have a child of our own soon, do you not want to know its mother?β
He shook his head, βlet me finish.β He spoke sternly, causing you to step back again.βI do not know if I want to know you, I have her and she for months was all I neededβ¦β he stopped talking then, looking at you, as if hoping you would interrupt despite his words.
βAnd now iβ¦ she had a babe, our babe, a girl. And perhaps some part of me feels And perhaps some part of me the guilt of loving her, despite my duty to you.β
You shook your head, βI am your wife, you should feel more-β you clutched your belly in pain, as a contraction hit.
Β βare you alright?β He asked moving to you.
βI have been having them all day, it is nothing to worry aboutβ you said as you shook it off only to be hit with another contraction.
βAre they meant to come that close together?β He asked worry clear in his voice.
You sneered βI donβt know youβre the one with a bastard, werenβt you there went she gave birth?β
βIβ¦ no we havenβt been together since the weddingβ
You laughed βoh Im so sorry our marriage was such a inconvenience for your mistressβ
He said nothing at that, leading you to believe that perhaps he wanted to continue his relationship with her and she was the one to stop it.
βIβll fetch the midwivesβ he spoke suddenly, leaving before you could say anything.
Soon you were on your bed, a midwife between your legs telling you to push.
It was just you and them, woman you had never met, wishing you had met your mother so that she could be here for you and not strangers.
And it seemed the gods were cruel as they sent her in, she walked in saying she was a healer and was simply there to help, and by the worried looks the midwives gave her it seemed you needed it.
She went to touch you, and you flinched back.
βNoβ you whispered.
βThe babe is breachedβ she said hoping to sway you, but the constant shaking of your head caused her to bite her lip a concerned look filling her face βI have experienced with breached briths, I can help youβ she insisted.
βNoβ you simply said again, but this time she ignored your pleas, moving to sit on the bed and take your hand in hers.
You tried to pull your hand back but she only held on tighter, and leaned in.
βPlease let me help youβ she begged βneither of us want to be in this situation and I am only trying to help youβ
βWhat so the gods arenβt cruel on you as they have been on me?β
She laughed βsort of I suppose, but also because I have caused you enough pain and wish to mend it.β
You looked at her, she was sincere, it seemed she too hated the situation they were both in, trapped feeling like the other woman, βfineβ you gritted out.
She nodded βI need to move the babeβ she said placing her hand on your belly and started to turn the babe.
The pain was terrible, the want to push and being unable to and the feeling of you babe moving inside of you, and then finally she said you could push, after that is was swift, and before you knew it cries filled the room, and your baby was placed in your arms, a boy, an heir.
βCongratulationsβ Talisa breathed, βhe looks just like youβ she said softly, you smiled nodding you head. He did, he lacked all the Tully features Robb ware, though it was clear the stark genes that skipped him wen to the babe, as he had a tuft of Black hair, and a part of you hoped for the grey eyes most Starks bore. But other than that he was every bit yours, your eyes and nose, he was all you.
βShould we fetch the king?β A midwife asked, and you shook you head,
βno, he knows I am here, let him come to me.β You said, as Talisa went to stand, βthank you,β you whispered.
She smiled βjust because we are tied in the same way does not mean we must hate one anotherβ she said, looking at you kindly, and you hoped she was right, because you hated the envy you felt towards her.
βWe shall speak on this soon, but for now I shall restβ you said, focusing your attention back on your son.
βOf course,β she nodded. Leaving the room.
Robb did not visit you for ten days. No one did really.
It was just you and your son, Cregan. A stark name, though not a common one, you may know little history but the little you did know was about the dance of the dragons, and about Cregan stark. He was your honourable and loyal, traits you would raise your son with.
βHelloβ you heard suddenly, as you Cregan was placed in your arms.
It was robb.
βFinally come to meet your child?β You sneered.
βI apologiseβ he whispered, coming towards you and looking down at your child. βI had matters to deal withβ
βof courseβ you nodded not that you could see how he had not once found the time to visit you and your child.
βI here you named him Creganβ he spoke, softly smiling down at your son.
βyes, I thought it to be a good stark name.β
He nodded, caressing the babes head. βI had hoped to name him Eddard, or Nedβ¦. After my fatherβ he said softly.
βWas that what you were going to name your daughter had she been a boy?β You asked, though your tone was neither dripped with envy or anger, you had said it so nonchalantly, as if you cared not for the answer.
Both the question and your behaviour confused him, he did not know what to make of you, your personality, or how to even start a marriage with you. Or even if he wanted to have one with you. βYesβ he mumbled, βthough we ended up naming her Minisa, after my mothers motherβ he spoke with such a tenderness, and you realised you could never compete with her, no matter how kind she was, you hated her.
Hated that she was the only reason you could never know your husband, who he was and what he liked. How he looked when you woke up beside him or how it felt for him to hold you lovingly. Your heart broke at the future you would never have.
βLeaveβ you demanded, pulling Cregan away from Robb. As if Robb being close to him would hurt him the same way Robb being apart from you, had hurt you.
βWhat?β He asked in alarm.
βI canβt do thisβ you said, βI canβt, every moment of our marriage has been shadowed by here, I am your wife, not herβ
βgods, I know that, and I hate itβ he angry spoke back, βwe both know neither of us had a choice in who we marry!β
βbut you have a choice in who you love, why not try and love me!β
βBecause youβll never be herβ He pulled back completely, βI do not want to know you, I only ever wanted her and I will only ever choose her.β
βthen leave!β you spoke as tears fell down your face, βI will move out and into one of your over holdings as soon as I am able, and we will not have to put up with this farce any longerβ
βgood.β
And just like that any hope for a marriage was lost, your son would only know your face and not his fathers for years to come.
As the years passed your rarely saw your husband. With Cregan now five, all hopes of giving him another sibling had disappeared, as you and Robb could scarcely spend longer than a few minutes in a room together.
And though Cregan got along well enough with his siter, Minisa, a part of you resented her. Resented how she was Robbs whole world and Cregan wasnβt.
perhaps it was because you had pushed him away so thoroughly.
That your relation to his heir caused him to resent your son in turn.
And perhaps he hated you more now that Talisa had passed.
The birth of their second child had killed both mother and babe.
Robb had raged.
For months he seemed to only act in anger.
And then it all stopped.
He seemed to return to normal, expect he know insisted he do his duty to you.
Duty.
You hated the word.
Especially as you lay now on the bed, his cock thrusting in and out of you and your moans filling the room.
There was no emotion but hate in the way he fucked you. As if you were the very reason for her death.
As if you were the guilty one in the marriage, when all you had ever done was your duty. As if you existing had caused her death, as if you had killed her and not the winter sickness.
He seemed to fuck you as if you had killed her, pounding into you at a relentless pace.
There was no part about it that could make it seem like he was making love to you.
Not as he bent you over a desk, or pushed you to the floor and hicked up your dress.
Or as he barged into your room as your maids were preparing you for bed, dismissed them and instantly started fucking you.
You hated it. But you also loved it.
Hated how gave you every opportunity to top him, and not once had you.
βfuckβ he groaned as he came, releasing you from his vice like grip.
He rested his head against yours, catching his breath.
It was rare he fucked you on your back, often choosing you to face away from him as he fucked you.
You pulled back from him awkwardly, waiting for what always happened next.
Him leaving.
But this time he didnβt leave.
Perhaps it was because it had been over a year since her death, over a year since her name was mentioned.
Perhaps he had somehow forgiven you for whatever crime you had committed against him in his head.
He had been moreβ¦pleasant?
He had been able to spend time in your company without shouting or yelling at you for no reason.
He had had spent more time with his son, though perhaps that had been because you had taken his daughter under your care.
It hurt almost to care for her but apart of you loved her. Having always wanted a daughter for yourself, and for so long believing you would only ever have your son, Cregan. She was the image of her father, with little trace or her mother on her features. She was quite and shy though she liked you. Perhaps it was because Talisa had always been kind to you, at least to your face.
βthe maester tells me you are pregnantβ he spoke, as he moved to lie beside you.
βwhat?β you asked in shock. You had only just found out for yourself this morning.
He sighed, turning to look at you, βhe said you were pregnant, about three moonsβ he said as he moved to make himself comfortable in your bed.
βi..yes I amβ¦I only just found out this morningβ
βas did Iβ
It was awkward, neither of you knew how to talk to the other. Neither of you had cared to try until now.
you too moved to make yourself comfortable, tucking your self into bed, and turning your back to him. He sighed before moving towards you, blowing out the candle and wrapping his arms around your waist.
βwhat are you doing?β you asked.
βsleeping with my wifeβ he said as if it was obvious. You had never shared a bed with a man, and feeling him pressed against you felt strange. It wasnβt comforting, nor was it uncomfortable.
βohβ
βoh?β he mimicked.
βwhy?β
βwellβ¦we are husband and wife it is time we started acting as suchβ
You huffed, β we have been husband and wife for nearly six years now and not once have you slept in my bed.
βwell thatβs going to changeβ he said, and before you knew it you were both fast asleep.
The next few months had been so different from the previous years.
Though you had not stopped your previous duties as lady of Winterfell. It seemed now with Robb instant on being a dotting husband you had more duties.
He had moved into your chambers, though you supposed they were rightfully his.
He insisted on taking all your meals together, walking in the gods woods every day together.
He had become kind, and for those few moons you thought perhaps you could grow to tolerate his misgivings and be husband and wife.
Then he called you, βTalisaβ
He had said it in passing, not even noticing it at first. And then he saw how your froze and realised his mistake.
He had sighed your name in apology.
But you had ignored him. And realised that perhaps it would be better, not to have hope that you were more than a duty to Robb.
That to him you would never be her. Never be the wife he wanted, only his duty.
It didnβt matter how much he liked to play pretend. Giving you flowers and sweet kisses on your cheek. Deep down you knew you could never forgive him, never find the love and happiness you had long craved, that you deserved.
That you would be a wife of duty, and love was always the death of duty, and duty is the death of love.
And he would never stop loving her.
authors note: this took me 3 weeks to write because i couldnβt figure out to make it have a happy ending. it was far to angsty and i couldnβt justify her forgiving him.
as an arranged marriage to a woman he doesnβt want looms over him, gojo satoru resolves to seize control of his destiny by marrying the very first woman he seesβa disgraced aristocrat from an enemy family who happens to be mute. as political ties unravel, will this ruse succeed or ultimately cost him his life?Β
warnings: mentions of injuries, war, captives, mentions of alcohol, o/ral s/ex, mentions of death, misogyny, forced marriage, p/rostitution, MDNI
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Gojo Satoru was a Lord not in need of a wife.
Arrogant and hubristic, he led life as a foolβsimple, filled with pleasure and lacking no responsibility.
As such, brothels, handmaids and ruining aristocratic ladies were all his favorite pastimes.Β
In this very moment, his vices were no different.Β
The scion to the Gojo clan, a man with white hair and cerulean blue eyes the exact hue of the sea from which his familyβs sustenance derives from, flickered them onto the woman poised between his thighs.Β
She was a whore or some other, hired for pleasure and a respite from the thoughts whirling in his mind. He barely paid her lewd suckling and theatric moans any mind, sensing that it was done with the intent to gleam a bigger tip by the end of the night.
Rather, he sank back into the paltry futon, gaze towards the ceiling while she tongued his balls.
A question bubbled in the back of his mind, tiptoeing to the edge of his tongue where he exhales it with little fanfare.Β
βDo you believe in true love?β
The woman paused, and he almost laughed at the glimmer of uncertainty coruscating in her gaze. βI beg your pardon, my Lord?β
He recognized that barely-there look on her face, that one sliver of determination mingling with the throes of forced lust she made herself believe she carried for him, if not to ease her suffering for one night.
βI asked if you believed in true love?β
A beat of silence that was louder than the schlicking of her mouth bobbing up and down his length. He discovers a second too late that she wasnβt as pretty as the lighting made her out to be and waves her away. Recognizing that she was being dismissed, the whore stands and tightens her obi, bowing low to him.
βShall I anticipate you for next week as well, Master Gojo?β
Reverent and demure. He senses it was not due to his status but the clanking of coins in his pouch which caught her attention like the darting of silverfish in a foggy lake. He removes a golden piece and tosses it to her, narrowly missing her eye as she scrambles to catch it clumsily with both hands.
βSame time,β he drawls and stands up, making himself decent once more. The whore bows low and he pulls back the denβs curtain, making his way to the front. He does not have to wander far to encounter the stench of disapproval that mingles with the heady curls of opium smoke in the air.
Right at the door, wearing a frown that gleamed as brightly as his ebony robes, was his right-hand man.
Geto Suguru eyes him with open disdain and Satoru grins, raising his hands in mock surrender. βYou found me, Sugu.β Not appreciating his tone or the abbreviation of his name, Suguru snorted and motioned towards the front door.
βThis is the last time I am saving you behind from your councilmen, Satoru,β he starts on his churlish tirade, one that the young lord had heard many, many times. βThe gathering is in full swing. What will people say when their great Lord is missing?β
Satoruβs snort pierced through a drizzle that clung to the tips of his brilliant white locks. βNow you sound exactly like General Nanami, Sugu.β At the mention of the stoic, aloof, and often unsmiling samurai who had retired from his life of serving the Gojo clan to live safely in the hills, Suguru physically bristled.
βAt least Nanami was paid to handle your foolish ass.β Geto sighs, pinching his brow with his thumb and forefinger. βCome on. Let us go or else we will be late.β
Satoru strides to his great white steed, hauling himself over the stallionβs back.Β
βNow, Sugu. You are being quite the downer tonight.β
Suguru sighs. βI cannot help it. Tonight is when the great Lord Kozume will sign over his district to be under the Gojo rule, is it not?βΒ
Despite his reckless approach to life, Satoru remains aware of his fiefβs happenings, and this is an unprecedented event which marks a new chapter into his rule.
Kicking Mumu into a trot, Satoru sighs.
βYes. And uncle will be there, too. No doubt trying to force my hand into taking a wife tonight.βΒ
At the mention of the great, stoic Michizane Gojo with his blustering white beard and piercing blue eyes trying to force his nephew to marry, Suguru chuckles.
βIf thereβs one thing your uncle is, it is consistent.β
βAnd annoying,β Satoru quips, already wishing he had not stopped that whore from making him cum. Maybe he would feel more relaxed by now.Β
His mind drifts, and he recalls everything that has happened to make today one for the history annals.
A messenger stumbles in, covered head to toe in blood.Β
Heβs unannounced, and Gojo has his katana out, ready for the first sign of danger and betrayal from any man.Β
But, the grisly older warrior does not flourish his sword; he sinks to his knees, holding his bleeding abdomen and a crumpled piece of paper in his trembling hand.Β
βMy Lord,β he gasps and flourishes the scroll for his liege to take it.Β
Gojo immediately stands, any trace of his defensiveness melting off like frost when he unravels the scroll with shaky hands. His eyes widened. The enemy camps from beyond his threshold suddenly become like toys in his hands; easy to grasp and smash.Β
βThey have surrendered,β he breathes out. The messenger curls his forehead to the floor, nearly sobbing.Β
βLong live your rule, Gojo-sama,β he tolls, loudly enough for his generals to come rushing into his war camp. Suguru is the first to grab the scroll from Satoruβs hand, and he too, is rendered silent from the sudden shift in their fates.
βUnbelievable,β the dark-haired general swears.Β
His second peers over the Lordβs great shoulders and gasps.Β
βNagamachi has fallen,β Satoru announces through trembling lips. He turns to his men, his most loyal followers and who never once doubted his ability to expand the Gojo empire.
βWe can all go home.β
Puddles of liquor and puke scatter on the tatami floors, and Satoru wrinkles his nose in disgust when he approaches the dais.
The men of his army could celebrate as well as they held a fight; brazenly crying out his name in exuberance and clinking their sake glasses together.Β
To Satoru! They cried. May his reign be ever long and prosperous!Β
Gojo takes his position on the dais, and reclines, accepting a cup of sake from one of his generals.Β
The man wears a smile so big, Gojo wonders how it doesnβt split his face.
βYour uncle is not yet here,β Suguru informs, taking a seat next to him and picking up a cup of the sweet, fermented alcohol to sip on. The fumes burn his nose and he frowns, not liking the taste.Β
Suguru has always been the more uptight between the two of them; where Satoru indulges, his friend restrains. Satoru reacts, Suguru observes.Β
Tonight, Suguru is his eyes and ears, peeling his attention around the room. Though merry men were no threat, the danger has not yet subsided.Β
These Nagamachi warriors could turn on them anytime; the frail peace treaty ending in blood.Β
Satoru leans back, and pretends to look interested in this turn of events. However, the second he hears the drums announcing his uncleβs arrival, he straightens.
Michizane Gojo is a man with a love for theatrics. His torture methods insane, his court a fester of troublemakers and violent men. Though he disagrees with his uncleβs rule, he cannot overturn itβMichizane holds an army of men three times his own and could destroy his part of the fief with a flick of his finger.
Tall, and with an imposing air that would make the harshest samurai tremble, Michizane strides into the drawing room.Β And he is not alone.Β
Head down, hand in cuffs and trudging behind him, the leader of the Nagamachi warriors wears a blackened eye and bruised cheeks. The gathering is free of women and children, so the men could indulge in cruelty till the morning sun rose. However, a slighter figure behind the man catches his eye, and Gojo feels a curdling disgust rising inside of his chest.
Gojo understands that in this world of wars and conquering, one has to respect whoever is at the top. But, if it were not for the fact that this man was his uncle, Satoru would have ordered his men to drag him out, respect for the elderly be damned.
Because there is nothing respectable about what he sees right in front of him now.Β
A young lady with her wrists bound follows behind the man, and unlike the other captive, her head is high, features turned obstinately to the light so every man could witness her disdain. Sheβs the sole woman here in this room, and the sight of her rouses every manβbloodhounds seeking to tear an injured bird apart.
Satoru stands and feels Geto stiffening beside him.
βMonster,β his friend whispers under his breath. Gojo has to agree.
The woman is shoved to her knees while the men remain standing. Her yukata, once a sign of her wealth and prosperity, is torn and with mud at the hem. If he looks closer, he can see her clenching her trembling hands, turning them to fists in front of her.
βNephew,β Michizane stretches out his arms and Gojo reluctantly steps forward, receiving his uncle with a tight hug. βYou are alive and have conquered the mountains. How proud I am of you.β
Gojo grits his teeth, finding the smell of opium and sake wafting off his uncle repulsive.Β
Masking on a smile, he nods. βThank you, uncle. Your support means everything to me under these circumstances.β
Standing at close to six feet, the old, wizened man was no different from his whorehound of a brotherβSatoruβs father. Women of all ages were not exempted from his list of atrocious taste, lending to his fearsome reputation.Β
Michizane bellows a laugh and gestures to the captives. βWhy, I had a great time speaking to Lord Kozume. Or, shall I call him Kozume from now on.β Laughing at his own joke, the rest of the room chuckles, taking a leaf from his exuberance. Following suit, Gojo exhales a small laugh.Β
βIt seems you have done so, uncle.β
The great lord slaps a hand to his fat belly, chuckling to himself. βWell, what shall it be tonight? An execution? A wedding? A fight?βΒ
Always prepared for the worst, Gojo tries to steer the situation back into safer waters. There will be no more bloodshed for the foreseeable future; he was done smelling like the rusted tang for days on end.Β
βPerhaps, a discussion,β he entreats. His uncle snorts, but indulges in his nephewβs whims, signalling for his men to cut through the ropes binding Lord Kozume and the woman. She curls into a ball the second her hands are free, forehead pressed to the floor, begging for mercy.
Kozume is far more prouder than her, and sits rigid, shaking his head when a cup is offered to him.
βNo. I wish to be level-headed.β His voice is deep and low; commanding yet kind. The voice of a leader.Β
Gojo blinks and remembers Suguru is beside him. He gestures to the girl and his general needs no more cues. Going to her side, Geto snaps his fingers for a cup of water and receives it from a servant; pushes it into her quivering hands. She straightens, and it disturbs him how red-rimmed her eyes are, and yet, she sheds no tears.Β
Kozume does not wait for his cue. He continues. βThe Nagamachi lands are yours. The fiefs are now part of the great Gojo house and I humbly ask you to spare the lives of my daughter and mine.βΒ
Satoru slides his gaze to the girl again.Β
The old man winces, as if heβs in pain, and reaches for his daughter, grabbing her by the shoulders. This close, Gojo can see the fear in her eyes, how the corners of her lips tremble.Β
By no means was he a naive man to the horrors of war, but he never had to witness an innocentβs expression up close. Satoru almost feels like the walls are closing in on him, and he tries to look away. But, something about her draws his attention back and back againβlike a red splash of paint on a white cloth he cannot possibly ignore.
βFine,β Michizane seats himself on the dais, looking down on the father and daughter. βLet us resume our discussion now with the eyes of every Gojo ancestor looking down upon us.β
At his words, the girl glances up, gazing upon the tapestries depicting the heroes of his boyhood, splashing across the ceiling as they continue on their bloody conquest to raise the emperorβs mark across the southern lands. She sees the blood, the mangled bodies, and drops her gaze; too close to the truth for comfort.
βMy nephew, Satoru, as you know, is the head of the Gojo clan after his fatherβs death two years ago. He is in need of a wife and I have picked one out for him. The great Lady Ayako from a noble family under our flag.β Michizane glances at the girl. βThough you promised me your daughter is fair of face and from great blood, that blood now comes at a cost and I will not be at peace if she is under our roof. Hence, I have decided to wed her off to Lieutenant Luaya, who is one of the most fiercely loyal men I know.β
Gojo has to stop himself from physically recoiling. Luaya is a brute and a devil. He catches sight of the mentioned man puffing his chest out, looking pleased to be bestowed a blessing by the great Lord Michizane. She will never survive a night with him, Satoru thinks. In fact, none of his wives had ever survived for long.
His uncle was sending her right to her early grave.Β
As if sensing the change in the room, the young woman raises her head, and sees Luaya whoβs smiling at her; the glint of his canine teeth bouncing off the light from the sconces overhead reminds him of a wolf scenting fresh meat.
Satoru does not know what overcomes himβhe is barely a kind or empathetic man. But, the punishment for Lord Kozumeβs rebellion is far too much.Β
He would have to watch by the sidelines as his daughter gets murdered in cold blood and that is no fair compensation for a man who readily surrendered to their forces. This inhumane treatment of their subjects had to come to a stopβGojo would no longer stand for such cruelty his father and uncle perpetuated.
βLuaya will do no such thing.β Every eye in the room is on him as Satoru stands, crossing his arms right in front of him. The cup of sake hovering close to his uncleβs lips stops in mid-motion.
Whatever trick Michizane expects his nephew to pull, it was not this.Β
βI shall wed herβLord Kozumeβs daughter.β
Those piercing blue eyes land right on your shocked face, unwavering and resolute.Β
βWe will be wed tonight.β
a/n: π i hope u guys loved this new revamp of entangled !! it came to me as inspo from my recent trip to kyoto and i had to continue the bewitched universe for my sanity's sake lol
also if u didn't know, this series was previously discontinued due to low interaction and feedback, so if u want to see how gojo and y/n's story play out, please do consider dropping some feedback or a reblog to help keep the inspo going <3
π€ dark romance fantasy trilogy (trigger warnings apply)
π€ preorder links to come
π€ yes, itβs what you think
π€ bless those who leaked this, I felt like Taylor when Target leaked TTPD
π€ come see me on book tour for Not Another Love Song, we can absolutely talk about this
summary: coercing lord bridgerton into pretending to court you to avoid the affections of a baron is very simple. that is, of course, until it isn't.
featuring fake dating/courtship, minor rivals to lovers, idiots in love, mutual pining that they think is unrequited, slowish burn, hurt/comfort, a signature bridgerton happily ever after, and my blood sweat and tears!
total wc: 44,497
overall warning(s): historical inaccuracies, period typical misogyny, implied/referenced sexual harassment -- individual, more specific warnings on each chapter. reader is referred to with the last name worthing for convenience
part 1
β³ 10k words | miss worthing makes an awful sort of proposal to the viscount bridgerton.
part 2
β³ 7.1k words | miss worthing despises and enjoys the viscount bridgerton's company in equivalence.
part 3
β³ 9.7k words | miss worthing has a terrible realization.
part 4
β³ 7.6k words | the viscount has a revelation and miss worthing decides against her heart.
part 5
β³ 9k words | miss worthing and the viscount find themselves at a crossroads.
FANTASY IS ALWAYS BETTER @shewandersinthesun - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
