ooh what if you write some kind of royal/medieval knight au ??
im so sorry this took so long, bubble anon! i've been so tired lately, but finally gathered the energy to complete a single request today—i hope this lived up to what you wanted!
hold your peace - j. todd
dcu masterlist | main masterlist
gn!royal!reader x knight!jason todd
summary: jason is forced into silence as he watches you walk down the aisle—towards someone else.
warnings: arranged marriage, no happy ending, lots of angst, mentions of decapitation
"you called, your highness?"
you don't turn. you keep staring out the window. at the thick streams of sunlight spilling over the kingdom—now your kingdom. or soon to be. in about a few hours, in fact.
"today is my wedding day," you say blandly.
jason swallows, gently setting his helmet down on your nightstand. he dared to grow closer, but watched as your shoulders tightened. watched as your hands clenched around each other.
"i'm aware," he said, sympathetically. then, to maintain professionalism, added, "congratulations, your highness." he bowed his head.
finally, you turn. bitterness contorts your face into an expression he's unfamiliar with. you don't look yourself, dressed in your crown and your beautiful wedding outfit.
the fullness of your appearance makes up for the emptiness in your eyes.
no, jason thinks. nothing can compensate for that emptiness in your eyes. he feels a fool to think such a hollow thought. he had no right to feel pity for you. no right to hope he could try and save you.
"hm." a tiny puff of air is the only sound you make as you cross the room. he lets himself follow you. allows you to see that rare yearning flicker on his face. to show you he's sorry. he's sorry he didn't choose you.
"i feel beautiful," you whisper, face still solemn. "no other man could give me these things."
jason knows you're prodding. knows you're trying to kick him to make him say something. do something. anything to show you he cares. beyond the emptiness in your gaze, he sees a need for control so powerful it twists into hatred.
"you're right," is all he says, feeling bitter now himself. "no one else can."
you stare at yourself in the mirror. he stares at you, too. and he watches as water builds in your eyes, watches as that resentment crumbles and shatters entirely.
he doesn't reach forward.
doesn't give in to the temptation.
"why...?" you ask, finally breaking. you whip around, lips quivering into a frown. "why couldn't you choose me?"
"you have no clue what i need," he says breathlessly. "i want you. i've never wanted anyone or anything as terribly as i want you."
you nearly spit at him. "whatever you wanted, i could've given it to you! why...why couldn't you have just asked me to run away with you? why couldn't you have taken me away?" you rush to his chest, slamming a hand into it. the metal armor there clattered, the impact barely causing him to stumble.
"why?" you beg. "take me away! take me away now! you still can!"
he's not sure what to think of you right now. one moment, you were cold, pretending to hate him. pretending you couldn't care less whether he married you or not.
and now you're begging him to save you. begging him to take you far away. far from the fat streams of sunlight—somewhere he can bury you in winter and force the world to forget your name.
somewhere he can have you all to himself.
"there's still time!" you fall to your knees, hands cradling your face. "there's still time, jason. if you take me now, i'll never say a single word. please. please, jason. just ask me to go with you. anywhere. i can't marry him." you turn back, as if your husband would be watching or listening. "i can't. i don't love him."
jason kept his chin high, ignoring the tears brimming his eyes. "you will grow to love him."
you ball your fists, much like a spoiled child would. you tear the blankets from your bed and toss them to the ground. "what do i need to do to make you choose me? or...what's keeping you from me?" you scramble to your feet, your wedding outfit now wrinkled.
you cling to his arm for a brief moment, then rip away. "what is it, jason, that terrifies you so much that you cannot choose me?"
jason has fought on the sea in the middle of a storm, has saved his own kingdom from invaders with nothing but his bare hands. never has he felt so afraid of looking someone in the eyes than he did now.
"i...i cannot tell you, your highness—"
"and the whole your highness thing!" you throw up your arms. "my name, jason. you're acting like you don't even know my name."
guilt bubbles in his stomach, threatening to boil into his throat and come out.
he's about to reply—is even tempted to tell you the truth—when a knock sounds at the door.
you grumble, opening it to find a nervous servant. "your highness?" she says. "it's time."
"thank you," you mutter, then close the door. you turn slowly. jason stares at you blankly. "jason," you sigh. "please."
he ignores the panic in your eyes. the desperation in your voice. then he bows low—at the waist, like he never used to do. "i will leave you to get ready, your highness."
he can't watch you as you walk down the aisle. you're so beautiful, but the hollowness of your features repulses him more than anything ever has.
he keeps his head down respectful, trying to ignore the guilt of his own cowardice.
there are bigger things, he thinks, bigger things i need to protect them from than a man who just wants their kingdom's money.
you stand at the altar, petrified, a lamb to the slaughter as your husband eats you up with his stare.
for a moment, jason thinks he might move. his hand is already inching towards his sword, fingers twitching madly. it's second nature, really. protecting you.
he grips the hilt of his sword and prepares to lob off the head of your greedy new husband, but then he drinks in how terrified you look.
and he imagines your head on a platter. and he remembers what your father told him the moment he found out you were negaged.
"you can have their hand," you father had said, "but know that it will come off with their head."
he knew it was an empty threat—deeply hopes it was, anyway. your father needs you politically. and jason...jason was the only thing standing in the way of that.
it's not like he cared for his own life, but to threaten yours? that was perhaps the only thing keeping him at bay, and your father knew exactly how to exploit that.
if jason rejected his bold nature and allowed the wedding to persist, he'd lose you, but not entirely. your father gets what he wants, and you stay alive.
and if jason ignored the warnings, if he stole you away like you'd wanted and like he'd promised to do, he'd watch your head roll off your shoulders and onto the ground.
your father's political alliance would be tarnished, but not his reputation—not completely. and if you'd run away with jason, he would've lost both.
so he stares at you, knowing his silence is now the only way he can keep you safe. not by his sword, not by his hand.
your eyes find his, wide with longing. with desperation for your freedom. you strangle your bouquet—a last call for liberty. your last act of resistance, last hope that he might storm down the aisle and pull you into his arms.
jason locks his body and stares forward.
he was trained to be a soldier, after all.
the priest smiles between you and your betrothed. "speak now, or forever hold your peace."
jason lets the numbness consume him. it eats at his courage.
and it washes his voice away.
betrayal solidifies on your face. there is no peace to be held in the space between you two. it simply cannot exist.
there may not be peace, but there is silence.
and silence has, and always will be, better than a war.
IM ALIVE IM ALIVE I KNOW THIS WAS SHORT AND I KNOW IT PROBABLY SUCKED BALLSACK BUT IM ALIVE AND IM SO HAPPY TO HAVE POSTED SOMETHING GOSHHHHH THIS FEELS GOOD
