I had a dream last night that I was playing clarinet in a marching band. I cannot play clarinet. Also I was falling behind the rest of the band. I’m desperately trying to catch up to the band making the worst screeching noises you have ever heard.
snesus (snail jesus) thats all i have 2 say honestly
bisexualpoppunk replied to your post “riddle me this:”
HONESTLY i was thinking about this earlier bc there was a post about replacing the first 2 letters of ur url w/sn and i was like "........what if it already DOES" this was literal Shower Thoughts tbh
RIGHT?? like . can snails not have snickers?? bc theres no snail snickers? or maybe all words starting w sn are ALREADY snail versions of things and we need to humanize them? peeze (people sneeze)
For Katie. Thank you for the wonderful fic that inspired this one.
The first time it happened, she hadn’t known what to think. It was a brisk autumn night and the stars above her were bright and the moon was a shadow that moved among then in silence.
She was standing on his balcony, as was her post on nights when the moon was dark. The King was worried about these nights, and rightly so. These were nights when his enemies moved through the shadows below and sought to do their evil deeds against the king.
It was her job as his personal assassin to guard over him while he slept. Generally, these nights were long and boring with little happening between the last drop of sunshine to its earliest rays.
Yet, that night, the King was restless. His light had been on far longer than normal and even though he had finally put it out, she was sure he had not gone to sleep yet.
She wondered if he was worried about an attack that night. Generally if he was, he would warn her to be on high alert, but no such warning had been given to her.
She considered knocking on the door to his room and asking if there was anything she could do for him, but it was not her place. She was his assassin. If he needed something, he would no doubt ask one of the maids or perhaps even the other lords themselves if it was a personal matter. She was just a hired blade, and she was constantly remaindering herself of that.
Finally, around two in the morning, she felt herself relax slightly and breathed a sigh of relief. Sleep must have finally come to her King and she could stop worrying about him.
She was just considering weather or not to find a server to ask to fetch her cloak when the doors to the King’s room flew open. She daggers were already half drawn before she realized it was the King himself.
His hair was a mess from sleeping and his eyes wide with what looked like fear as he stumbled to the railing. He clutched it so hard his ands turned white and she could see his knuckles in sharp relief.
She sheathed her daggers and took a slight step forward, “Milord?”
He whipped around, his hand reaching for the small knife he kept on his hip at all times but stopped once he recognized her.
“Oh, Luka, it’s you. What are you doing out here?”
“It is the dark moon, Milord.”
He looked up to the sky and sighted, dragging a tired hand across his face. “Right you are. Sorry, I was a bit distracted.”
“Milord… Is there anything I can do?”
At first, she was sure he would not answer. He just stood, hunched over the railing, but he suddenly turned and advanced towards her.
Unsure of what he was doing, she stayed still as he reached her. He started her in the eyes for a moment, his blue eyes wiping her mind blank, before he surprised the fire out of her by wrapping his arms around her.
She froze in his grip as his arms pulled her against his chest and she was unable to breath as his warmth and scent surrendered her completely.
“Mi-Milord?” She squeaked, her voice coming out an octave higher than normal.
“Please,” he whispered, his voice sounding tired and broken, “Just left me have this moment.”
Luka was unsure of what to do. Never in her life has she seen the King show any signs of weakness. He had always seemed so confident in everything he ever did. Never had he batted an eyelash when she cut down people before him or winched as a prisoner was flogged before him. But here he was, shaking slightly as he embraced her and a realization hit her: He was a human as well.
Maybe that was why all the tension in her chest disappeared and she reached up and wrapped her arms around his head.
“It’s okay, Milord.” She whispered, as he buried his head into the hair at against her neck. “It’s okay.”
He held her for what seemed like a lifetime, or maybe it was just a few minutes, before he stepped back, his eyes losing their haunted look.
He said not a word about that night after words, and nor did she. There was nothing to say. The king was a human and humans yearn for human interaction.
On nights when the pressure was all too much for him, he would ring for her and she would come. Sometimes he didn’t touch her, rather they sat together under the stars and sometimes talked and sometimes she was just there for him. A living body to distract him from the ghosts of his mind. But most of the time, he would embrace her or hold her hand.
One night he had lain on the floor and put his hands over his eyes and she had timidly reached out and ran a hand through his hair.
After that, he would often lay with his hand on her lap as she stroked his hair and more often than not, he would fall asleep in that same position. During these interludes, he was a different person than he was anywhere else. He laughed more freely and talked with his hands excitedly. For these moments, he was hers and hers alone. They were no longer servant and king, but equals, almost friends escaping the pressure of their lives in each others company.
_________
Author's Notes:
If you haven't read Katie's story, do it now. It's amazing. But yeah, this is basically the kind of things that have been running through my head since I first saw this AU and came up with the idea of Luka being King Ross's personal assassin. This... and more.
