xx_oolii @xxoolii - Tumblr Blog

Mar 30

☘︎ CRIMSON DEVOTION ☘︎

☘︎ synopsis ☘︎

you are the youngest daughter of house zenin. yet another daughter, yet another disappointment to your noble family. hidden away, neglected, until one day your father strikes a marriage match between you and a low-born knight named choso kamo.

choso leaves rather unceremoniously the morning after your disastrous wedding night, and returns years later as a lord cloaked in golden glory, having defeated a deadly dragon. you soon find yourself swept away to his faraway castle, in very close quarters with the stranger you call husband who you're convinced hates you. until one day you realise, it's actually quite the opposite.

☘︎ content ☘︎

(18+) choso kamo x f!reader, medieval fantasy au, inspired by UtOT by suji kim, arranged marriage, naoya mention, a LOT of misunderstanding, lack of communication, reader is kinda innocent, dubious consent (bedding ceremony), smut, BREEDING KINK, mentions of pregnancy and children, both are virgins at the beginning, no use of y/n, p-in-v, whiny softdom!choso, biting, swearing, oral (fem receiving), fingering

word count: 14k

I finally started reading the novels for Under the Oak Tree by Suji Kim, which has heavily inspired this fic! If you haven't read it, please check it out as well as the webtoon, especially if you're a fan of medieval fantasy (and the sexy piece of meat Riftan Calypse who inspired Choso in this). this shit is LONGGGG. I definitely didn't cover all the parts of their relationship as i wanted, but I was thinking about making some bonus chapters? anyway enjoy!!!

"i now pronounce you man and wife."

the archbishop's voice echoed off the walls of the church hall, carried by the stone statues lining the towering walls and stained glass windows. in that moment, he was executioner. your family were your judge and jury.

they stand within the first few pews, and although your back is turned to them, you can feel their mocking stares burning through the white lace of your wedding dress. your father was pleased, now that his youngest daughter was finally out of his hands. your older sister's hand was promised to the prince of these lands. your hand was now enclosed in one belonging to a lowborn knight, recently turned lord. a knight who was leaving tomorrow on a arduous journey across the continent, to complete an impossible expedition. to slay a dragon.

choso kamo was this knight , who's hand now held yours in a light grip. he'd been given two duties- kill the dragon, and marry you. you guessed he decided to get the easiest task out of the way.

choso kamo was by no means a bad man, from what you'd learned eavesdropping on the servants. he didn't seem cruel, but you kept your guard up. no one was ever privy to the actions of cruel men, even those closest to them. those that did, would chose to willfully ignore it. he was tall, with a head of dark-brown hair which appeared black at first glance. his eyes were much lighter, but held a myriad of thoughts behind them. would you ever figure out what they were?

he turns to face you at the archbishop's final command. whatever emotion he is feeling, he does not show it. did he feel disappointment, anger, disgust at the sight of you? this unknown woman, a daughter of a conceited duke, who never showed her face outside the castle walls. you knew why your father had married you to him. he did too.

he leans down, and presses a quick kiss to your lips. you barely even feel it, a quick brush of blushed skin and the union of two strangers is now complete. almost.

the feast follows. hundreds of noble and knightly strangers dine at the the stretching mahogany tables, smashing goblets together and chortling whenever the sweet wine spilled. they have fun in your's and choso's name.

he sits silently beside you, his food as untouched as yours. you don't even think he's taken a sip of wine. you feel as though you should say something, but his personality seems just as impenetrable as his armour.

people dance, people drink, people laugh. you couldn't lie- this is what you thought weddings looked like. n all the books you'd read, the stories of beautiful princesses marrying their true love, the wedding had been a celebration and everyone had their happily every after. you did not feel very happy.

the unhappiness quickly morphed into fear and the revolting feeling of bile rising in your throat when they announced the bedding ceremony.

humiliated, choso takes you dutifully by the hand and leads you from the hall. you walk through the crowd of jeering guests and giggling family members. your cousin naoya chuckles. you don't even look your father in the eye. you don't have to, you know he's pleased with himself.

the walk through the halls towards the bedroom for your bedding ceremony is silent, but the way your heart pounds in your chest it's as though someone is playing a drum. you don't know much about what you're supposed to do, other than lying down and 'letting him do as he must', which were the only words your governess had hissed in your ear, in response to your concerns of the wedding night. it was not something to be enjoyed by you.

choso holds the door open, letting you slip quietly inside like a mouse. you stare at the freshly made bed, and shudder when you hear the door close.

"take off your dress."

shakingly, you are about to obey. but your hands come to a stop.

"i- i can't."

you can't even look at him. he's somewhere behind you, perhaps still by the door. "why not?"

you hang your head, shame crawling through your skin at the feeling of his eyes on you. "the buttons are on the back- i can't reach." you want to crawl behind something big, hide away and cry. was this marriage? being commanded strip your clothing off, and be defiled by a man who had hardly looked at you the entire day?

your body jolts at the feeling of his fingers brushing your neck. he casts your hair over your shoulder, and begins unbuttoning the complicated back of your pure-white bodice, one small snap at a time. your arms feel heavy and useless at your sides, and finally your bodice comes loose. you now stand in your equally white bodice, which the maids had trussed you into in the early hours of the morning. it clung to your upper figure, and flowed loose at the waist. it was much shorter than the usual chemises you wore. the maids told you it was special.

you completely miss the way choso's breath hitches, over the roaring in your ears.

his fingers once again pull at the ribbons at your back, much rougher this time. your body shifts with each drag of a loosened ribbon, until the chemise drops to the floor and you're bare.

you want to die. to disappear into nothingness, far aware where your shame and embarrassment can never find you again. goosebumps prickle along your skin, and you don't dare turn around.

his next command comes out much quieter. "lie down on the bed."

shivering despite the roaring flames in the fireplace, you slowly walk over to the bed and lie on your back. you can see him out of the corner of your eyes, dark and intimidating, but you refuse to look. you stare up at the canopy of the bed, listening to the shuffle of clothing being removed.

the bed dips at your feet, and only then do you finally look.

this stranger you call husband, kneels on the bed in front of you, naked just as you are. you'd never expected a man's body could look like that. your knowledge extended as far as the scientific books you'd uncovered in a dusty corner of the library, which contained detailed illustrations of the human body. you remember slamming the book shut at the sight of the drawing of the naked male figure, positively mortified, before shoving it back onto its shelf. the drawing was woefully inaccurate in several areas, you realise.

choso's upper body is pure, sculpted muscle. had years of wielding a heavy sword in battle done that? his body was defined and heavy, with arms as wide as your head. then your eyes drop down, on pure instinct.

between his thick, bulging thighs, stood his... manhood. you'd overheard the maids whispering about their husband's once or twice. you were never really sure of what they were meant to do.

it slaps against the muscles of his abdomen, and something clear leaks from the flushed red tip. your body feels as hot as it looks. just what exactly had to be done with it?

he's staring again, and says in a low, monotonous voice, "spread your legs."

oh. so that's where it's meant to go.

that delicate cavern between your thighs, which you had been told to never touch. it was sacred, and only your future husband was permitted to see it. a delicate flower, they said.

your knees feel like they've been cemented together when you shakily part them. choso's eyes fall to it, and you see his length twitch. did he not like the look of it?

the bed creaks slightly as he shifts his weight towards you. his eyes are no longer on yours, now focused on his hand which trails along the sheets to your entrance.

"i'm going to touch you now," he states, before quickly adding "to get you ready."

your brows furrow at his words. "what are you- oh!"

your hand clamps over your mouth to stop any more noises like that from spilling out again.

his callused fingers probe at your entrance, gathering a strange wetness that had begun to pool there. then, he pushes one inside, and you have to bite down a scream.

it feels strange. a part of his body was entering you, over and over slowly. a part that you assumed was not even supposed to go inside. the strange feeling doesn't vanish, but changes a little bit with each passing movement. it makes the soft walls of your insides throb in response, and your head grows dizzy.

your fingers scrabble at his hand, trying to pull his fingers from you. "n-no, stop, it feels strange!" you wail. when his fingers continue their movements, you attempt to drag your body further up the bed. but he's quick.

his other large hand, the one that doesn't have its fingers delving inside your body, grips your waist and forces your hips onto the bed. your squirm, but his hold is strong. you'd never escape from it.

"stop moving. i have to ready you."

you whimper, now knowing what that implies.

a few moments later, or perhaps minutes, he pulls his fingers from you. they glisten with slick, and he spends some time staring intently at the mess.

he wraps his wet fingers around himself, moving them up and down the taut, veined skin. you can only watch as he throws his head back, a guttural groan descending from his mouth upon your ears.

he presses it against the wet opening between your legs.

"you're shaking." he says quietly, the two of you refusing to meet each others eyes.

your eyes squeeze shut at the intrusion. this is my duty, you tell yourself. i am his wife. it is our duty.

"please, just be quick." you plead, fingers fisting into the sheets and head buried sideways into a pillow. it had to be done. the marriage was not legal without it.

he stops for a moment, now looking directly at you. you can feel the weight of his stare, the heaviness of his hands on your hips, and the prodding of his length.

then, he pushes in. it takes everything you have not to scream.

it's slow, painful, and embarrassing. the wetness which he'd drawn from you earlier helps with his entrance into you, but there's still a burning stretch. but a part of you is glad he's being slow and steady.

you pant at the stretching feeling of him pushing in against your inner walls. "is... is it in yet?" you wince.

"halfway." he grunts.

you start to panic. your body already feels full to the brim, and there's still more to fit inside? You risk a peek down to where you're both joined, and learn that he is telling the truth.

when he's finally at his hilt, his entire body covers yours. he's massive, looming over you and casting a shadow from his sheer size. your body burns, and you blame the heat of the fire and the burn of him. his body feels like a stoked furnace, just from the proximity of his skin near yours.

his hips move, pulling himself halfway out and pushing back in. you whimper at the returning stretch, but it's not as painful this time. he does it again. and again. until suddenly, it doesn't hurt any more. another feeling replaces the pain. you have to bite your lip to hold in a needy-sounding gasp. lie down, and let him do as he must. this wasn't something for you to enjoy.

his pace grows faster, until the room is filled with the lewd sound of skin against skin. his body leans down, his chest nearly bumping against your chin, but his touch doesn't go any further than his hands on your waist, which he angles up slightly. his cheeks are flushed, his eyes intensely locked on the pillow under your head. he doesn't even want to look at you.

with each of his thrusts, something in your belly coils tighter, despite the anxiety that tingles through you. you keep trying to scold yourself, reminding you that it wasn't your place to feel good. it's a crude mix of emotion, but you can't let it show. your father's probably told him how weak you are. he already knows.

the pulsing need grows stronger, and his thrusts grow sloppy. the hand you have clasped over your mouth fall for a brief moment, and something inside builds, and builds and builds... and snaps.

"Oh, my-!" you cry out, thighs trembling as what could only be described as waves of pleasure roll through your core, over and over. your thighs tremble, and above you, choso shudders and lets out a choked groan.

you feel something spill inside from where he's still sheathed, adding to the sticky wet mess between your thighs. the room is now longer filled with the sound of skin on skin, but a set of heavy breaths. it's quiet, and the pleasurable feeling is slowly ebbing.

with a soft but unmistakeable groan, he pulls himself from your body, which quickly clenches around nothing. you feel his seed leak from it, dripping down to join your maidenhood blood on the sheets.

you lie there, cringing at the discomfort but not entirely sure what to do now. how many times do we have to do it until i'm with child, you wonder?

you don't get much time to worry, especially once choso rises from bed and retrieves a folded towel from a chair near the fire.

he sits at the edge of the bed, gaze stuck to your messy entrance. you instinctively go to close your legs out of self-consciousness, but one of his large hands holds one knee away from each other. you can't look at him, even as he cleans it with the towel. he's probably just glad, you think harrowingly. he doesn't have to do this again with me. he'll go off on this expedition, and find himself a woman of the night who will truly satisfy him.

you're just a wife.

those four words repeat in your head like someone's strumming the same low string on a harp, once you shamefully climb under the bedsheets and curl into yourself. your body is almost falling off the edge, yet there's plenty of room between you and him. he's on his side, facing the opposite wall.

you barely sleep at all that night.

but when you do drift into a fitful dream, your breathing growing heavy, choso eventually turns over to face your back. his hand reaches out, a callused fingertip ghosting across strands of your hair on the pillow. before his skin can reach yours, he pulls back. he doesn't sleep that night.

the bed is cold when you wake up. no sign of your new husband, aside from a slight dip and wrinkle in the pillow where his head had lain.

your chest feels empty. why do you feel such disappointment? he had a arduously long and deadly journey ahead of him to the northern mountains, and would likely encounter all kids of cursed monsters on the rocky road. he didn't know you, and clearly didn't wish to.

the same archbishop who had declared you both husband and wife, in bridled purity and dignity, enters the bedchamber later on. he makes another declaration upon inspection of the speckles of blood on the sheets, announcing your taken maidenhood to the rest of the zenin house. you shrink into the corner of the room. you'd once been read a story as a young girl, about a boy who lived in the walls of his home. his family spent years searching for him, but by the time he finally heard them calling, he had grown too big to get out. your fingers splay across the cold, gristly stone behind you, searching for some hidden door that would take you away from it all.

months pass, and when your family calls for the doctor, it is revealed that you are not with child. the shame stacks up, like bricks.

time passes, and you are shunned to your chambers. you hardly leave, but you don't mind, in a way. your family do not speak to you. you are no longer their daughter, their sister, their cousin. you are the wife of a lowborn knight, who had disappeared off into the wilderness. they want rid of you, but cannot kill you. they pretend you are not there.

you take your meals in your room, have stacks of books sent up each month, and you still speak to the maids from time to time.

there is no news of choso.

after three years, you hear your husband's name again.

the maid hushes it into your ear one morning as she organises your hair in the mirror.

"lord kamo is returning, my lady," she says with urgency. "he is expected back by the end of the week, from a letter sent ahead by his scouts. he is wanting to take you to redfall, to kamo castle."

your eyes look out to the window. sunlight streams in, but there is still a slight breeze trailing in. the first day of spring.

later that week, you stand amongst your family for the first time in years. even on this day when you depart from them, they don't look at you.

your father is overjoyed, knowing that lord choso had been victorious against the dreaded dragon kenjaku. of course he is. he's been promised a portion of the riches from the dragon's lair. all the money in the world to throw away on wine and expensive drapes for the grand hall.

joyous cheers line the streets, as the cacophany of horse hooves clap against the cobblestone road leading up to the castle of zenin, to where you stand.

your gown is a deep navy, lined with a golden trim and intricate designs twirling up the bodice. you're glad choso has riches beyond belief after slaying the dragon. you're the meagre prize he has had to go out of way to collect and cart home.

the death painting knights flood steadily into the courtyard, flowers of all colours tucked into their belts and horse saddles. they stare up at the castle, and guilt gnaws at you. they're probably longing for home at redfall, and instead have had to travel for miles back to where they started. all for you.

choso leads the group, at the helm of a hundred men. you wonder how many did not return.

his hair is longer, and brushes his broad shoulders, which are extended further by his pauldrons. his cheekbones are slightly more defined, but

what's new, however, is the slashed scar across the bumped bridge of his nose, which ends at both sides just an inch below his eyes.

he comes to a halt, stepping down from the black saddle of his dark warhorse and walks to stand in front of you. he stares for a few moment, hands clenched at his sides.

"a joyous return, lord kamo! say, just how much did you recover from the dragon's lair?"

choso barely spares him a glance, his eyes stuck on you. you can't hold his gaze any more, so you drop it to the ground. he keeps looking at you. "there is a cart on its way with your agreed portion of the riches. the rest i have sent back to redfall," is it just you, or does he sound... bored? "i have come for my wife. she will be living at kamo castle from now on, as lady kamo of redfall."

for once, your father has nothing to say. his silence makes a smile twitch at your lips, your head still bent low. you hear a shuffle of material, and a large hand reaches out to you.

it's the first time you've seen him in three years, and he's already touching his skin to yours. your hand feels so small in his, as he leads your towards a carriage. he opens the door, helping you climb inside. it's rather nice, with cushioned seats, blankets and pillows. you open your mouth to thank him, but the door shuts in your face.

what you believed was a nervous kind of hope, curdles into dread. you were going to live in a strange new land, where you knew no one, with husband who very obviously disliked you. you were an inconvenience to the zenins, and you were now an inconvenience to choso.

several minutes pass of you nervously picking at the thread on one of the pillows, listening to the thuds of coin-filled canvas bags hit stone.

eventually, you hear choso shout to his men. they'd finished loading up on supplies, and it was time to head home.

the carriage door opens, and in climbs choso. he shuts the door behind him, and sits down on the opposite side of the carriage. it begins to roll slowly, steadily, out of the courtyard, away from the zenins.

"why are you in here?" you blurt out, before you can hold back the words.

his eyes narrow slightly. "i've been sleeping on mud-soaked bedrolls and spent most of my time on the back of my horse for three years. for his sake and mine, i wanted some rest. i hope my lady wife can excuse me." he replies quietly. the way he'd said it, you would rather have had him shout at you.

mortified, you shake your head. "I am sorry, i spoke out of turn. that is not what i meant."

"what did you mean?"

you swallow, the words shaky and foolish now that you voice them aloud. "you have proven victorious in the battle against the dragon. the people of this land worship you. surely they want to thank you, as you ride by on your horse."

one of his eyebrows raise. "you want rid of me that badly?"

you begin to protest, but he continues. "i have no need for their thanks. they only do that because i succeeded. three years ago, they would not have spared me a glance." he says wryly, carefully shifting the curtain aside to look at the waving throngs of people who bid your party farewell and offer last congratulations.

you watch him- hazel eyes catching the afternoon light that creeps through the curtain, and the fresh scar across his nose. it looks like it's only been healing for a few weeks at most and appeared rather deep. he was lucky whatever had dealt the blow had missed his eyes. the scar brings another layer cloak of authority to him, as though his legendary strength and steel greatsword weren't already enough.

his eyes flicker to yours again. "the journey to redfall will take us around three days. kamo castle may not be to your liking right now. it has only had my staff live in it for the last few years," his gaze turns rather pointed, as if that's somehow your fault. "i have sent for a hundred new gowns for you, in every colour. they should be there by the time we arrive."

that takes you by surprise. he'd bought gowns for you? "you didn't have to do that." you reply awkwardly. you weren't used to this. had he noticed that the dress you were wearing now was several years old? compared to your sister in the latest fashion ordered from the capital, you wardrobe had become drab and rather threadbare.

choso lets out a sigh, shaking his head. "i know you're probably used to diamonds and the finest silk, but you will have all of that and more in kamo castle."

"thank you." you whisper. he hears, but does not say anything back.

soon, the winding cobblestones of the nearest town to zenin castle made way for dirt paths through tall, swaying trees. it stretches endlessly ahead, the carriage wheels creaking softly as they rolled over the uneven path. outside, the late afternoon sun painted the countryside in long golden shadows, but inside the carriage the space felt small and quiet… almost suffocating.

occasionally, his knee would bump yours. his legs were far too long for the carriage, but for hours he insisted on sitting there. every time it happened, you mind would flash back to that night three years ago. to what exactly lay underneath that tunic, those trousers. it had been a disaster, yes, and one you were in no rush to repeat. but you would soon be living together. sharing a bed.

choso suddenly gives a hard knock to the side of the carriage, wordlessly bringing it to a halt. he stands as best he can, stopping to avoid the roof, before turning to you. "i will continue the rest of the day on horseback. try to get some sleep, we will stop for dinner rather late tonight."

then, he's gone. the carriage door closes, and soon it's moving again. a steady set of hooves can be heard right beside the carriage now. you don't dare peep past the curtain, knowing already that it's choso.

you do as he asked, trying to get comfortable on the seat. you prop your legs up, and rest a cushion behind your weary, pounding head. the sound of hoof beats and muffled conversation between the knights outside slowly lulls you into an exhausted slumber.

the next day comes in slowly. while the knights and choso get to sleep outside in tents, you are confined to the carriage. you get to leave it for a brief few minutes during the day, to stretch your legs and relieve yourself amongst the trees and bushes, all whilst being guarded in a doglike manner by choso.

he does not let you out of his sight. there is one instance, when you voiced a polite thank you to one of his death painting knights who handed you a cup of water, and he had appeared from nowhere and loomed above the man until he'd run off in the opposite direction. he'd ushered you back into the carriage after that, much to your disappointment. but not before shoving a new cup of water into your hands.

you'd spent your whole life lonely. it was something you'd grown used to. so why did it all of a sudden feel so crushing? your husband did not want you, and it hurt.

you spend one night crying inside the cabin, muffling your sobs into a pillow so as to not wake the sleeping, snoring knights outside. you think of how horribly embarrassed choso would be if his men heard his wife crying like a pathetic little girl. they surely though you were a spoiled thing, and choso did not ask for you. why had he agreed to this woeful mishap of a marriage?

another day passes, and choso informs you that redfall is finally on the horizon. you only nod silently at his words, and return to staring out of the window. you feel his heavy stare on your skin, but you refuse to look. when the carriage door shuts rather harshly, the tears begin their fateful flow again.

eventually, the dirt path turns to cobblestone once more, indicating your arrival in redfall.

choso had taken redfall as his own land only a few months prior to your marriage announcement. he became its lord, and also claimed the castle there. you'd heard that the land of redfall was infertile, and so its people relied on livestock and trade. you weren't entirely sure what to expect, but upon observation out of the carriage window, you are pleasantly surprised.

modest homes and stalls line the streets, and there appeared to be a substantial population. you even spot some merchants, which is a sign of a growing trade. its people look healthy and... happy. their smiles only grown when they notice their returning lord.

"lord kamo, lord kamo! he has saved us once more and returned!" voices cry out vehement praise towards him and his knights. you can't see him, but you're sure he makes an impressive figure, leading his brave knights home atop his dark horse, greatsword swinging heavily at his hip.

the carriage comes to a stop after a short while. you hear heavy boots land on stone, and a few moments later, the carriage door opens. choso holds it open, outstretching one hand to you. you feel the calluses after you gingerly take it, his roughened fingers twining around yours as you step down into the cool sunlight.

kamo castle looms above you, but it's not quite as scary as you'd imagined. it was built more akin to a fortress, but with huge, silvery-grey brick which formed a main keep. Five high walls grew out, forming identical towers draped in plain, crimson flags which fluttered in the calm breeze. it was not built for beauty, but for endurance.

choso stands so close behind you that you can feel him. "i know it is not half the sight of zenin castle. but it is your home now."

he speaks as though you're disappointed. you are a hundred miles from the zenins, and you are the lady of this castle. despite choso's clear dissatisfaction with you, you feel a glimmer of hope. could you freely walk the hallways? sit at the top table? not have to wait for nightfall to stroll the gardens?

"i like it." you say softly. his breath hitches behind you, and his gaze grows heavy on the back of your head.

he takes your hand in his again, and you notice something for the first time. instead of pulling you forward, he keeps himself a mere half a step ahead—his body naturally positioning itself the way a leader does. but his grip on your hand feels unsure, like he doesn't quite know what to do with it. his thumb rests between one of your knuckles, and you swear he brushes it over them just once, a quick touch. it must have been an accident.

the castle staff await in the entrance hall, bowing immediately at the sight of their lord. he brings you to stand in front of them, and their bows dip even deeper.

he introduces you to them one by one, and you greet them by name with a gentle smile. they seem like homely, friendly people, who, from only a brief interaction, hold a great deal of respect for choso. their lord was now the strongest, most famous knight in the continent. what sparkled in their eyes looked like worship.

"i would like baths drawn for my wife and myself. she has travelled a great distance to be here," two of the maids standing in the greeting line nod, before departing up the grand staircase of the entry hall. choso turns to you, his warm hand dropping from yours. "i must go and see to the rest of the castle. it has been a long time from i have been here."

you nod in understanding, but the small bit of hope dwindles slightly. it made sense- he'd been gone three years, and the castle had been fending without their lord for all that time. so why had a little part of you imagined him making time for you, to show you around this vast, empty castle which from this day on was to be your forever home.

he goes to turn, but stops in his tracks. he doesn't even look at you when he speaks. "we shall dine together tonight." then he's gone, leaving you behind to stare after his billowing black cloak. the only person you knew in this land had just left you.

trying to mask the aching hurt in your heart, you let another one of the maids lead you up the grand staircase. the castle, which looked so imposing and powerful on the outside, was nothing to boast of from inside. not a single painting or tapestry lined the hallways, nor flower sat in a vase. it did not feel like it had ever been lived in.

you follow the maid to a large bathchamber, in which the two additional maids from earlier stood preparing your bath. one poured the remaining steaming water into a large, wooden tub in the centre of the sweet-smelling room, whilst the other sprinkled sprigs of lavender atop the water. the room was alight with numerous candles, shedding a soft, comforting light over the room.

they assist you in removing your dress, and in helping you step into the hot water. steam licks at your skin, making the air hot and hazy. the smell of the lavender is so soothing, you cannot help but let out a sigh.

you had't realised how stiff your shoulders had become after living in a carriage for three days and nights, but they begin the relax as the maids run a rich oil through your hair, and the only sounds that fill the room are your soft sighs and the trickle of water.

"would you care to soak a little longer, my lady?" asks the youngest of the maids, remi. "you've had a long journey."

your eyes light up at the suggestion and you nod little too eagerly. the three of them bow and tell you to call for them once you're ready to be dressed.

your back relaxes into the rounded corner of the tub, against a pillowing cloth they'd laid out for your comfort. the steam makes your eyes grow heavy, your now soothed muscles relax into the water...

the door swings open, and your eyes shoot open, expecting to see that the maids had returned before you have even called. except it's not the maids.

choso stands in the doorway, his face flushed scarlet and eyes wide. they fall, landing on the skin where the water touches.

you let out a mortified gasp, the water splashing as you sink yourself lower to hide your wet breasts. perhaps you could sink down even lower and drown yourself.

the door slams shut before you even get the chance to speak.

he has a bad habit of doing that, you think, and for a split second it offers you a brief distraction from what had just happened. he'd seen you naked before. he'd lain with you. he was your husband. so, why had he ran?

perhaps, you ponder, perhaps he doesn't hate me. perhaps he's just not into the fairer sex. he had spent the last three years surrounded by nothing but other men, after all.

even so, you dunk your head beneath the water, hoping to never have to see him again.

the new fine leather slippers on your feet are soft, yet your footsteps still echo along the empty hallway.

the corridors of the castle are endless, and the lack of decor doesn't help you in your attempt to find the grand hall. but before you can truly start to panic, you come across a set of large doors. you breathe for a few moments, trying to steady your heart as though choso could hear it from inside.

you can't get over the look on his face when he'd stormed into the bathchamber earlier today. for a moment, you'd thought he'd remaining there, staring at you. you imagined him storming into the room, plucking you from the bath with your body still warm and wet, and taking you there and then like a normal husband would. you were well aware of how men rarely loved their wives, but at least they'd spare more than a sentence or two on them per day.

obligation and duty pressing you down, and embarrassment trying to pull you back., you push one of the doors open and step into the great hall.

the rich smell of beef and mellow spices invade your senses the moment you step inside, glancing around at the hall itself. long tables were laid out in rows, parallel to each other. steaming plates of food piled high had been placed in front of two opposite seats- one of which was empty, and in the other one sat choso.

he's changed- now donning a black tunic, inlaid with some silver brocade along the collar, and black trousers. all he was missing was a crown atop his dark brown locks, which had been tied into unruly knots. he looked like a prince.

he stands from his chair the moment he sees you step in, watching your every move as you make your way towards him with your head held high. was his mind also repeating what happened earlier?

"my lady," he breathes, once you are stood before him. "that dress, it's..."

your hands splay over the hem, straightening an imaginary wrinkle. "one of the dresses you had ordered," you reply. "the maids helped me pick it out. there were... a lot to choose from."

he straights where he stands, nodding. "good."

a hefty, awkward silence snakes between you, your eyes darting look anywhere but at him. but he thankfully moves first, pulling out your chair to tuck you into the dining table.

once you're seated, he takes the chair opposite to face you, but the silence continues on for another few moments. so, you decide to eat. the first bite of fluffy potato and lean cut of beef is unlike anything you'd ever tasted before and you can't help but let out the tiniest little moan of delight.

choso, who happened to be mid-sip of wine, coughs, before propping his elbow onto the wooden table and burying his lips into the whitened knuckles of his curled fist. "please... don't make those sounds," he voice comes out muffled, eyes dark as he looks at you. "keep eating."

as you eat, your mind recollects all the good things and bad things about living here. the staff so far had treated you well, the bath had been enjoyable (even if it had been interrupted), and you could roam wherever you wished. on the downside, your husband disliked everything about you. but that was something you could perhaps change.

the more sips of wine you take, the less intimidating it becomes to look him in the eye suddenly and speak. "is there a library here?"

choso nods. "there is, but i have never been in it myself. i believe it's in the eastern tower," he explains. "i had it filled with books when i first took over this land, before our wedding, in expectation of your arrival."

that makes you pause. "you prepared for my arrival three years ago?"

it's like the temperature in the room drops, the way his mouth slips into a frown and his fingers tighten on the edge of the table. his tone is dark, controlled, when he finally speaks. "i had expected your arrival to be straight after the wedding. but i received word after a few months on the expedition from my head of staff, telling me that you had not come."

when you say nothing, perhaps because you are too busy trying to catching up with his thoughts, he continues, each word sounding angrier than the last. "i thought something had happened, that you had been attacked on the road. i later discovered that you had not even left zenin castle."

you look at him, eyes filling with tears. "some places are not so easy to leave. you don't understand..."

he reaches out a hand as though to grab yours, but it freezes halfway across the table. he curses, his hand falling back to his side before he stand, the chair scraping once against the stone in a sharp scuff. "don't cry. please."

you don't even watch him leave, you can't beat to. you hear the large doors open and close, so you finally bury your head in your hands and sob.

later that night, you curl under the sheets of the large bed in the bedchamber. it had been hours since dinner, and the only sight you'd caught of choso was from the window of library which you had finally discovered after many wrong turns. he had been in the courtyard, look deep in discussion with some merchants and tradespeople. you'd gone back to your book after a while, before your attention was once again diverted out the window by the metallic scrapes and clangs of swords.

your eyes had fallen on your husband at once. he'd forgone his tunic and cloak, now sparring in nothing but his trousers and boots. his tied hairstyle from earlier had fallen loose around his shoulders, and the way he swung his sword towards his opponent was calculated, hair-raising.

the view wasn't entirely clear from several windows up, but your imagination filled in the rest. sweat was most definitely gathering at his neck, dripping down those hardened muscles of his back. between each sword swing, he was most certainly grunting, making all kinds of gruff noises, maybe the same noises he'd made on your wedding night-

before your thoughts could make your core throb even more, you had sprinted for your bedchamber and called the maids to ready you for bed.

so you lie in nothing but your thin, spring nightgown, hair loose and spread over your pillow, desperately trying to think of something, anything, that would distract you from the growing ache between your legs. but eventually, your hand trails down and slips under the your nightgown, fingers carefully running along your slick folds. you throw your head back onto the pillow, letting out a delighted gasp. your mind flits through memories of passages you'd read in books, where a prince gathers his princess into his arms and kisses her in unbridled passion. but no matter how many times you try to concentrate on those images, the sight of choso and his rippling muscles, the faint memories of how he'd looked the night of the wedding keep pushing through.

your peak edges up quickly, wetness pooling on the feather-stuffed mattress below.

the door slowly creaks open, and you scramble to pull your fingers from your wet heat, heart slamming against your ribs. it doesn't stop upon seeing who it is.

choso steps into the room, shutting the door gently behind him. his shirt is still off, but it looks as though he's washed. he silently makes his way into the bedchamber, running a hand through his hair and sitting on the opposite side of the bed.

you hold your breath, eyes squeezing shut in prayer that he'd assume you were asleep. in your pleasured haze, you'd entirely forgotten he'd be joining you in bed.

each sound he makes seems amplified in the silent room. the barely-there grunt as he pulls off his heavy boots, the noise they make as they hit the floor, and the soft click of buttons as he removes his trousers...

a shaky breath escapes your lips when your hear the material drop to the floor. the mattress dips even further behind you as he lies down. you can't exactly tell how close he is, and don't want to risk a peek.

what felt like hours passed, the two of you refusing to acknowledge each other. was he also pretending to be asleep? how dare he! you're in the middle of debating whether to to bravely shift and turn over, when you feel the lightest touch of your hair on the pillow. you think nothing of it at first, believing it to have simply moved on its own.

but a second touch comes. then a third. by the fifth time, you realise it's choso.

his finger runs down the length of of the locks of hair resting on your pillow, over and over. he picks it up in his hand at one point, softly twisting it between his fingers.

the feeling lulls you to into a dreamless sleep.

you don't see choso much over the next two weeks. he's either training with the rest of the knights, meeting in the council room with merchants, or heading out beyond the protective walls of the castle and town to oversee a new road being built from the port. they say it will make redfall the most prosperous location in this part of the continent, a new hub for trade and commerce.

to prevent yourself from becoming a ghost in yet another castle, you put yourself to work. you pore over the redfall accounts- there was money coming in from trading within the town and miles away at the port, which gave kamo castle a substantial number of coffers. but the further you read, the more mind-boggling the amounts of money grew. it grew into a number you didn't even know how to say in words.

it must be all the gold choso recovered from the dragon's lair, you realised. and not just gold- diamonds, rubies, mother-of pearl, priceless heirlooms and artifacts... choso had more riches than the king himself.

during your evening meal, you'd asked what was to be done with the money. he'd looked you in the eyes, and told you it was yours to do with as you pleased. you'd suggested decorating the castle, perhaps getting new window panes, and adding some paintings to the hallways. he's stared at you for a few moments after you'd spoken (something you had gotten used to), before nodding and telling you that the money was yours as much as his, and to do whatever you wished.

you arranged meetings with travelling merchants, who quoted you prices for new, double-paned glass to be fitted on all the windows of the castle. you'd worried about the cost he'd quoted, but upon tallying the numbers against the castle accounts, turns out it would hardly make the smallest of dents.

another few weeks pass, and the hallways are now properly lit with new chandeliers, lined with deep crimson curtains and the occasional vase of flowers perched in front of brand new windows. you feel a strong sense of pride when you walk through them now, as the castle feels more like a home with every passing day. it was a fine distraction.

one afternoon, you decide that you've spent far too much time inside the walls of the castle, and decide to go for a stroll to inspect the gardens. you'd learned that the castle gardener tried his best to maintain it, but was growing old and could not manage the sprawling grounds all by himself. spring was coming to an end, and summer was breaking through the remaining wispy clouds. now was the perfect time to plant seeds.

you step out into the sunshine that beat down on redfall, the noise of swords clanging reaching your ears, which sounded far mort rhythmic and timed than usual. you look to the training grounds, to see choso stalking his way around a band of young squires, who were practicing their swordsmanship. choso barks out orders to fix their sword arms, to hold them properly, keep their backs straight.

you watch him as you descend the stone steps into the courtyard, your eyes burning into his back. he stiffens suddenly, and turns, his eyes meeting yours.

"my lady! i have not seen you since our long journey here." a cheery voice comes from behind, and you spin to meet with one of choso's death painting knights, the one who had kindly offered you water on the journey from zenin castle to redfall.

you smile, nodding in recognition. "of course, i apologise. i have been stuck inside quite a lot with the redecoration efforts," you realise it does not sound very exciting or meaningful when you tell it to a battle-worn knight who had fought against lethal monsters. "i'm heading over to the gardens, now. i haven't yet seen them. but first, i must actually find them." you joke.

the knight's eyes light up, offering out his arm. "would my lady care for me to guide her? they're just through-"

"step away from my wife."

a shadow casts over you and the knight, who jumps away from you as though scalded. "yes, lord commander!" he stammers, his body practically bending in half as he bows towards you and the shadow you now know is your husband, before walking rather quickly away from the scene, not once daring to look back.

you wheel around to him, already frowning. "what?" you snap, arms folding across your chest as your frustration with this annoying man spills over. "he was only giving me directions!"

his eyes dart around, as though he doesn't want to look you at you. "he was standing far too close," he says gruffly after a moment, folding his arms in mimicry of you. "it wasn't... respectable."

you snort, wondering if he'd find that respectable or not. "i just wanted to see the gardens." you tell him, glumly.

his brows furrow. "this is the first time you've come out into courtyard."

you look up at him. "how do you know that?"

you swear the tips of his ears turn a shade of pink, and he actually stammers. "i, er- you've been preoccupied with castle renovations. you've been taking on too much."

anger swells in you at his words. "after your insinuation!" you hiss incredulously, before gathering your skirts and stalking off in the direction you think the gardens are.

his long legs catch up to you in no time, and his gloveless hand closes around your upper arm. you assumed you'd forget how big his hands are, but no. his fingers clasp, the warmth seeping into your skin through your sleeve. it makes your heart hurt. why did he have to be soft in secret? you yearned for him to take your hand and kiss you. he did not have to love you. you could pretend, and just maybe, it would be enough for you.

both of your gazes drop down to his hand on you, and he pulls it away as though burned. "that wasn't my intention, i didn't mean-"

"then what did you mean?" you pressed, your voice wavering despite your effort to steady it. “because you never seem to mean anything you say. or do”

a flicker of something crosses his expression—brief, but there.

“you’re misunderstanding—”

“no,” you cut in, shaking your head. “I don’t believe I am." the distance between you is short, but you feel miles away from each other.

“you avoid me,” you said, quieter now, but the words hit harder. “you barely speak to me unless you have to. you leave before I wake. you won’t even stand near me unless you have to.”

choso’s jaw tightens, and he starts with a, "that's not-", but you're quick to cut him off. you decide to be brave and face it.

“do you hate me that much?”

the question lands like a blow, and silence follows it. for the first time ever, choso looked… caught off guard. you're aware that although your voices aren't raised, the two of you have caught the attention of the various mix of people in the courtyard. the squires have paused their training to stare gormlessly, and a few stable hands sneak the odd peek. even a few kitchen maids washing clothes at the well are listening in, but are thankfully being rather subtle about it.

“…what?” his voice drops much lower now. dangerous in a way you hadn’t heard before. not angry, but something deeper and strained.

“you heard me,” you challenge, despite the tightness in your throat. “if this marriage is such a burden, you don’t have to pretend otherwise. i know you regret this marriage-”

"stop.”

the hand that had touches your arm a few moments ago was clenched at his side, his fingernails digging crescents into the roughened skin of his palm.

“…you think i regret it?” he exhales roughly, his tone sharp. “you think that’s what this is?”

your heart stutters in your chest, mouth opening and closing when no sound comes out. he presses on, and you catch a slight tremble in his words.

"do you have any idea,” he said quietly, “how difficult it is to stand near you and not—” his jaw clenches, hard. his normally hazel-brown eyes are blackened, and unsteady in a way you have only seen once before.

that day in the bath.

“…not what?” you whispered.

his eyes lift to yours again. but he still doesn't give you an answer, an explanation of why. the moment stretches into something fragile, ready to break. his eyes glance away for a brief moment, eyes falling on the conversing knights who are too close and could eavesdrop.

you step back, shaking your head. “i don’t want distance,” you mutter, your voice trembling despite your effort to steady it. “nor do i care about hundreds of dresses, or a big castle, or gardens,”

your fingers curl slightly at your sides, wrinkling into the fabric there.

“i just want my husband.”

choso stills completely, and for a moment you think he hasn't understood you at all. his gaze flickers over your face, searching, with something akin to disbelief in his expression.

“…your husband?” he repeats, quietly. he sounds so... uncertain. a strange expression crosses his face when you nod.

his hand reaches out again, and you realise he's reaching for you. your heart leaps, towards hope and something brand new. then his hand stops. hesitation. again.

your feet are moving before you can stop them, focusing on getting somewhere, anywhere that wasn't here. your eyes sting as you run, blurring as they land on an open, iron-wrought gate along the wall. you dive in, now amongst winding vines and towering, flowering bushes.

you come to a heaving stop at the large tree, in the furthest corner. its feathery, trailing leaves fall around you in a sweeping curtain, brushing against the damp grass. it shields you.

you're not sure how long you sit there for. all you know is it was long enough for the maids to come searching for you, to help you to your feet. they guide you up the stairs into your shared bedchamber with choso. they dress you into your nightgown and usher you to bed. you feel like a helpless child. even so, your eyes can't help but glance over to his side of the bed. untouched.

"his lordship has went out riding," remi tells you, fluffing your pillow with a sympathetic look in her eye. "we were all surprised- he just stormed off, didn't even tell anyone he was going."

you nod silently, closing your eyes. you hear them leave, catching a snippet of a whisper, "i wish he'd just tell her already. poor dear."

not sure if you want to know what that meant, you draw the covers over you and envelop yourself in the dark.

it's still dark when you wake. you sit up, tired and groggy.

the noise of the rain must have woken you up- it pelts against the curtained windows of your bedchamber. your eyes adjust to the dark slightly, and you notice the other side of the bed, where the sheets are still tucked. he never came to bed.

thunder rumbles directly above the castle, signalling the heavens to open when remi's words float back to you. his lordship went out riding.

a flash of lightning sends a shocking white light into the room from behind the curtains, and you're up. flying the bedchamber door open and sprinting down the halls. choso is out there, alone. you curse him as you descend the stairs, nightgown billowing at your heels. curse him for everything he's said and hasn't said.

you slip out of the towering castle doors, your nightgown instantly soaked to your bones within moments. there's another clap of thunder, and in the brief flash of lightning crashing into the nearby woods, you see him. at first, you convince yourself it was your imagination. a trick of the storm, perhaps, or of your own desperation.

tall and shrouded in the darkness, he makes his way toward the castle. then, he looks up, and stops at the sight of you. it's dark, cold and the rain lashes down, but that doesn't hide the fire burning in his eyes.

"you fool! come inside!" you shout, trying to hide your own stupidity of forgetting a cloak and shoes. the wet material of the nightdress clings to you like a second translucent skin.

your voice seems to finally stir him, and he cuts through the rain towards you. the sight makes you swallow, and you remember- this man has killed a dragon. he looks every bit the part of a killer, with his hulking frame, tired and dark eyes, and the healed slash across his nose.

he stops in front of you, a mere breath away. he's just as soaked as you are, with rain dripping down his face like crystalline tears. he's close. too close.

your eyes drop to the floor, waiting for him to simply brush uncaringly past you. but expression tells an entirely different story, and held something rawer that you'd ever seen before. rain relentlessly poured around you, but strangely, you didn't feel cold.

for a moment, he just looks at you. water drips from his long eyelashes, down his flushed cheeks, over the sharp arch of his cupid's bow... then his gaze moves slowly, agonisingly. from your face, down to where fabric clings to you, outlining the swell of your breasts, and the darker skin of your hardened nipples.

fire burning behind your cheeks, you stutter out, "you- you didn't come to bed. you left without telling anyone. i thought-" you stop yourself. he doesn't want to hear this, not from you.

“i needed to think,” he murmurs. his eyes finally meet yours again, and they're black.

curiosity gets the better of you. “about what?” you ask.

his jaw flexed again. “about you," he answers quickly and honestly, which takes you aback. "“you said... that you wanted your husband.”

his eyes never leave yours. not once. "do you understand what that means?”

the question makes your pulse stutter. but all the same, you nod. "i think i do."

His gaze darkens slightly, and the distance between you almost disappears completely when he takes a step closer. he's not wearing his armour, and the soaked material of his black shirt brushes your chest. you shiver, but not from the cold.

"no,” he speaks quietly. his breath seems uneven, strained. “you don’t. i have spent weeks trying to keep my distance because i thought you didn’t want me near you.”

his hand lifts once more, slowly, like he was giving you time to pull away. you don't and his fingers hover just at your waist, not quite touching. you can feel the heat seeping from them.

you can't quite believe what he's saying. all this time, had you been pushing away. but that was only because of how he'd treated you- pushing you away at every turn, rejecting your every effort to grow closer to him.

you shake your head, confused. "but.. i thought you hated me?" the question slips out before you can stop them. something in his eyes breaks, and his hand finally touches you. resting on your waist. an innocent touch, to the oblivious eye. but to you, there's a burning desire in his palm, and it's heating through your skin, right to your heart.

his voice shakes when he speaks again. "i thought my wife hated me, from the day of the wedding. you were forced into this marriage, it was all over your face that day. you looked so...disappointed." his face falls, his mind consumed in memories of that day, a long three years ago.

"it's true," you start, blinking through the rain. "i was disappointed. but i was disappointed for you. my father forced you to go on that expedition in his place, and your grand prize was marrying his second, unsatisfactory daughter? i felt like such a burden to you!"

his other hand comes to grip the other side of your waist both hands suddenly squeezing tight. "you- oh, god," he looks like a man who had discovered some kind of divine purpose, clinging on to you with his eyes blown wide. he looked demented. "i wanted to marry you! you were all i wanted, not the gold, not the sonnets nor the stupid fucking glory. you! i would have given every diamond in that dragon's hold to your father if it meant having you to all myself. i felt so greedy that day i kissed you on that altar, but it meant i had you, even if you didn't want me-"

he rambles like an absolute madman, drunk on the truth. anyone else listening would be thinking that lord choso kamo had gone insane.

he breathes heavily, lifting his hands from their grip on your waist to gently, oh so carefully, cup your jaw to tilt your face closer to his. "hate you? oh, wife, you consume me," he whispers shakily, eyes darting between your eyes to your lips. they're so full of desperation, as rainwater drips from his long, delicate eyelashes. or was that... tears?

your entire world has been jolted sideways, and not given you any time to breathe. your whole body trembles, but not from the chill of the downpour. something different, and something you had never felt before this moment,

"say it again," he murmurs.

it catches you by surprise, breath hitching. "w-what?"

"what you said earlier. in the courtyard. please." he pleads, and you attempt to gather your scattered thoughts to think back to the argument, which felt like so long ago now. it all made sense, the argument, and every moment before it since the wedding. every one of his dismissive words, his attempts to give you an easy life without him being in it, providing for you, and him finding those moments believing you were asleep to finally touch you, even if it had been simple strokes of your hair.

the courtyard feels small around you both. you can feel him, and only him. you want to live in this feeling, forever.

you lean into his large, dripping hands letting yourself fall into him. "i want my husband."

your first and only kiss had been with choso, on your wedding day. it had been quick, polite and decent.

when he gives you your second kiss, it's unrestrained. years of distance, misunderstanding and pure want, tightly pressed into a moment where neither of you wanted to hold back anymore.

your lips move frantically together, trying to find a rhythm. his mouth is clumsy against yours, and you're not much different. your hands curl into the fabric of his soaked shirt, breath slipping from your lungs. it's hot, wet, and you want more.

when you pull away, his pupils are blown wide. a string of spit connects your lips together, and he barely gives you a second to breathe before he's pulling you back into his lips. the plummeting rain continued to soak you both through, but you didn't care- and by the feeling of desperation in his mouth against yours, neither did choso.

his hand slides from your waist to the small of your back, pressing you into him completely. your own hands move upwards, up the front of his tunic to brace against the hardness of his chest. all you could feel was him. his warmth, his hands, the steady way in which he cradles you tightly to him. his body stiffens, even his lips faltered, as a soft groan leaves him. when he pulls away a second time, it feels purposeful.

you both breathe raggedly, as his forehead brushes yours for the briefest, gentlest moment before his grip shifts. one thick arm slides securely around your back, the other moves beneath your knees.

you barely have time to react before he lifts you into his arms, the same way a groom carries his bride down the steps of the church. except you are not in a church. you are in your home, one that you shared with him.

a small gasp excapes you, instinctively reaching for him as the ground disappears beneath your feet.

"wait- choso!" but he doesn't stop. he pushes one of the heavy double doors of the castle open with a strong shoulder. you notice how carefully he does it, so that the noise does not wake the sleeping servants.

water drips in a telltale trail across the polished flagstones of the entry hall as he walks with you in his arms. he looks forward, his strides wrought with purpose and a need to take you to wherever he wished. unable to stop yourself, your hand reaches out, fingers brushing the scar across his nose.

he stops in his tracks on the staircase, his eyes finally falling to you in his arms. "you're making this very difficult."

you blink. "i am?"

he grimaces. "yes," he replies, his voice a low growl. "i'm trying to hold back from taking you right here on these steps."

heat rushes to your core at the picture he paints with his filthy words. you remember what he did on your wedding night, with his fingers, and then his...

with a clench of his jaw, he sets back on walking up the stairs to the winding hallways. the new chandeliers sparkle warmly above you both, contrasting to the rain pelting at the recently renovated windows. what had seemed so important a mere few days ago, felt entirely insignificant now that you were finally in your husband's arms.

he slips you both through the doors of your shared bedchamber, and wastes no time in setting you on the bed. his movements are restrained, stiff, and you think back to his words before. he's holding back.

but rather than settle on the bed with you, he takes a step back from the bed... and kneels on the floor, right where you sit up against the pillow. his pupils are blown wide as he looks at you, his face flushed. you had only seen him like this once before, three years ago.

"choso? you whisper.

his head drops, forehead resting on the edge of the bed. he looks like a devout worshipper, kneeling before his god and pleading for intervention.

a shuddering breath shakes his shoulders, but his face is concealed, hanging low. "i only hope that you forgive me, my love," he speaks softly. he lifts his face to look at you, eyes shimmering in the firelight. "these past three years, i have thought of nothing but you. and i want you to know that it was all for you."

"choso... i realise now," you reach out a hand, and run your fingers through his loose hair, just as he has done for many nights to you. his body quakes at your touch. "i hope you can forgive me, also. i have not been a dutiful wife. i did not come to kamo castle after we married. i did not think you would want me there, and nor did my father, because... i failed to give you a child. i am so sorry." remorse crawls back you, for something you though you had buried a long time ago. you did not know choso then, and he had gone before you had gotten the chance to. you had been left with nothing of him. perhaps a small babe, with his dark hair and light brown eyes would have made his absence feel less lonely.

choso is suddenly on his feet. his chest heaves as he looks down at you, and in one fluid motion, pulls off his shirt. your eyes shamelessly trail over his thick torso, the various pale scars across his sinewy arms, and the trail of dark hair peeking from the waist of his breeches...

he crawls onto the bed, kneeling at your feet just as he had done that night many moons ago. except this time, you feel a connection that had not been there before. a heart-racing concoction of heat and nervousness builds in your body, but one thing is obvious in your mind- you want, no, need him to just touch you. he could be gentle, or rough, and you wouldn't mind either way.

both of his hands, large and calloused from years of wielding a greatsword, grasp at your ankles when he speaks, low and angrily.

"your father made you feel this way? shamed you for not being with my child?" his fingers which lock around your ankles grow tighter.

you nod mounfully, those horrible words your father had thrown at you now being repeated for choso. "he said that... if i couldn't give you an heir, you would have no reason to keep me."

for a moment, choso stares at you. you wonder if he even heard you. you shake your head, trying to brush it off. "it's alright, it doesn't matter any more."

in half a moment, his body is on top of yours, his hands now splayed on either side of your head on the downy pillow. "''doesn't matter'?" he echoes. his voice has taken on a more hollow, tortured note. you look up at him, and find his eyes are filled with tears. your husband cries for you, for a moment he never experienced. he had left, to fight a dragon. but you had stayed. "that's why you thought i didn't want you."

your heart clenches at how pained he sounds, upon his realisation. three years of silence, of longing but wanting better for each other has caught up to you both.

his hands come to cup your cheeks, and despite the callouses and scars littering them, he's so soft. his voice is a whisper in your ear. "i went to kill the dragon in your father's place. because i knew that if he had went, the fucking coward he is, he would have failed. and it would have meant a land too unsafe for you to live in,"

his honesty fills in all the lonely gaps, all the spaces in your mind where doubt no longer remained. you listen, finding overwhelming comfort in the way his body feels on top of yours again. it's no longer something scary, but something intimate that belonged only to you.

he continues, his thumb stroking along your cheek. "i had to make it safe. i had to be enough. i made myself lord of redfall, so i was no longer some lowborn mercenary turned knight and be a just a little more worthy of you, before making my marriage offer for you to him," he spits the word out, not caring to even speak your father's name, "i wanted to give you everything. a beautiful castle in a rich land, cover you in expensive dresses and cloaks and jewels. i wanted you to be happy."

unable to contain yourself, you fling your arms around his neck pulling him close. he looks startled at first, but adjusts quickly, careful not to put too much weight on you. you shake your head wildly at his words, determined for him to now know your truth.

"i don't want jewels, or hundreds of dresses, choso!" you protest fervently, eyes blurring and stinging. "i have only ever wanted you. and i wanted you to want me back. can't you see? i love you!"

his lips collide with yours, hands carding through your hair as he kisses you breathless.

"you kept me sane," he mumbles against your lips. the two of you only have your unifying wedding kiss and the several shared on the wet steps outside as practice, so it's messy. teeth clash, spit combines, and his tongue prods at yours. "every day on that dragon campaign. you kept me alive."

his hands fall from your wet hair, and slip the shoulder of your sopping nightgown down to expose skin. you mourn the loss of his lips, but they feel even better attached to your neck, sucking and nipping at every part he could reach. you moan softly, which only eggs him on. his hair drips onto your skin- a droplet hits your cheek, but you don't wipe it away. it's cool, against the fiery heat that spreads from where his lips now move further down.

he kisses the hardened buds at the peak of your breasts through your practically see-through nightgown. his eyes flit to yours, just as his hands have reached the hem of your nightgown, tangled between your thighs. they search for any contour of hesitation in yours. there is none to find.

he peels the wet material from your body, revealing it to him inch by inch until it passes your head and you're utterly bare beneath him. his eyes rake over you, one hand resting on your hip and the other brushing over your nipple.

"choso?" you breathe, which seems to pull him out of whatever thought he'd gotten lost in.

his shoulders, which had been so stiff with anticipation, visibly relax. "i'm sorry. it's been three years since i've seen this sight," he whispers. his lips reattach to your breasts, mouthing at the skin. his tongue flicks at your nipple, and you gasp, burying your fingers in his hair. "i made sure to remember it well, though. the knights probably thought i was looking up at the stars, when we'd sleep out in the open in the fields and valleys. but i was picturing these," he gives a particularly loud suck on the taut, sensitive skin, which mortifies you but only seems to comfort him. "i never got to touch them that day. never got to properly feel you. but fuck, i'd imagine it."

a sticky wetness pools between your thighs, as you imagine him in his tent on the campaign. in this picture, his hand is wrapped around his length, furiously working it over and over. all whilst thinking of you.

"choso, i need you!" you whimper, looking down at where his head rests on your chest. he smiles.

"i would kill that dragon again if i got to hear you say that again." he muses, but you shake your head in an indignant panic.

"no, don't you dare! the thought of another three years-" he quietens you with a soft, hushing kiss. almost innocent, if it weren't for his finger dipping inside you.

your moans grow louder, less breathy, as he moves the digit back and forth, back and forth. you reach for his free hand, bringing it up to your lips and holding it there as a brace for the overwhelming pleasure from his touch. he adds another finger, and you bite. right into the veiny stretch of skin where his thumb connects to his index. he whimpers, you immediately pull away, worried that you may have hurt him.

his fingers never stop their curling and delving inside, even as he speaks though another choked groan, "do that again."

you oblige. biting, then soothing with kisses and licks. a wife serves her husband, you think to yourself, running a long stripe to suck on the tip of his thumb.

when choso's fingers pull from their place inside, and are momentarily replaced by his tongue, you discover exactly how a husband serves his wife.

your thighs press tightly into his head, and his hands move to hold them in pace- spread, so his tongue can freely explore your wet heat. the noises it makes against it are obscene, slurping and sloshing, but it's nothing compared to the ones leaving choso's mouth.

each groan, each whine, sends new jolts of need shooting through you. your own sounds join his, more with every flick of his tongue over a bundle of nerves nestles in your drenched folds.

"choso, i'm going- i need-!" a coil of white-hot heat twists and throbs where his mouth is practically consuming you. it's like he was eating some forbidden fruit, and not-

"your cunt tastes perfect," he groans against it, eyes darting up to your flushed and panting face. "let go, beloved. want to feel it against my face."

your release crashes over, wave after wave of pleasure coming and showing no signs of ebbing. it feels beautiful, and you want more.

he takes a few more moments with you, to the point where there's tears in your eyes and you're pushing his head away with trembling hands. your wetness coats his lips and his chin, his hair is mussed from your wandering fingers, and there's a feral glint in his eyes. he looks like a wild animal.

he sees the way your eyes drop to the bulge in his trousers, and he pulls apart the buttons at his waist. he yanks them off his body, leaving him as naked as you. his cock, now freed, is hard and furious-looking. it leaks, the clear droplets dribbling down the tip along the long, thick shaft. trimmed, tufty brown hair gathers at the base, snaking up a section of his navel.

you want it inside you again. you need it.

his body hovers over yours again, and you feel it prod at the inside of your thigh. you shiver, and your cunt clenches with it, longing to be filled.

his hand strokes through your hair, as he presses his forehead to yours. your nose brushes the scar slashed across his nose, and you nuzzle into it.

"are you sure, my love?" he whispers into your hair. "i know you were scared last time, and i promise i'll make this perfect for you, i just-"

you quieten his rambles with a kiss, which he simply melts into.

"need you, choso. needed you for a long, long time." you admit, feeling the way his cock jolts at your voice and taking a wholly selfish pride in it. you want to make up for every missed moment, every small touch that could have been more.

"i need you," he whispers in echo, his hips shifting until the tip presses into you, slowly and carefully. "i need you, i need you, i need you..."

he trails off into a breathy moan when he starts pushing in, your inner walls clamping down and trying to keep him there. your fingernails rake his back with every inch that floods you, whispering his name in tandem with his desperate chant.

once he's sheathed, the two of you settle quietly. no noise, just held breaths and the feeling of his skin on yours. until you give an involuntary squeeze.

choso's hand fists the pillow beside your head. his teeth are clenched, body taut with tension.

"god, you feel even better than i remember. if you do that again, i'll..." he resorts to breathing into your neck, smelling the remnants of rain and the trickles of sweat, and perhaps a whiff of your perfume. it appears to calm him, his body relaxing into you. his cock remains hard inside you. you can feel it throb.

you think back to the wedding night, and the way he'd spilled his release inside you. it was an act of claiming, a mark of ownership that meant you were his. his wife, and one day, the mother of his children.

he begins to move once you're adjusted. his hips pull away, almost unsheathing himself before pushing back in again. he's not fast, nor slow. just steady, in a way that makes your toes curl.

"choso... you feel incredible..."

he huffs a laugh in your ear. you think that if you heard that again, you'd come. "yeah? fuck, i love this, love being inside my wife," he growls, his thrusts grow faster, harder. "m' gonna keep you in this bed for a week now. have you full of me... all the time."

if it meant you could always feel this way, and feel him, you had no qualms with his proposal.

his hips slice between your legs, his cock delving into your tight heat, which felt like it grew thicker with every thrust. you whine and mewl in his ears, arms curled around his neck as he smothers your face in hot kisses. spit leaks from the corners of your mouths when you kiss, from the way your tongues slide against each other's.

"you have everything, every part of me," he pants against your lips. you wail softly at the loss of his lips, but he shushes you gently. "i know what you said earlier, but i will give you everything i have not given. you need only name it."

your walls clench desperately around him, as you try to speak over the sound of slapping skin and through your own breathlessness. "i want- god- i want-"

"yes- yes, my love, what do you want? i'll give it, fuck, i'll give it all to you."

your face flushes, daring yourself to speak. the words fumble out of you. "i want... i want a baby, choso."

his hips still completely, making you whine in protest at the loss of friction. he'd turned you into a lovemaking fool. sweat beads at his forehead, and he cradles your face in his hands.

"w-what did you say, my wife?" the look in his eyes is wild, and he hangs off your every syllable.

"i didn't get to give you one before," you say shyly, and your eyes make the mistake of darting down, catching on the way his cock is halfway inside and halfway out, slick dripping from the trimmed hair at his base. you swallow, every fibre in your body crying for release and his. "i want to give you everything, too."

you fear you've broken him. his body is tensed everywhere, and his head hangs between the valley of your breasts. when he looks up, his expression has taken on a determined, fierce look. it stirs some primal feeling in you, like suddenly he's become that dragon he hunted, and you're his sparkling horde of treasure, glimmering in pricelessness.

he doesn't give any type his warning before his cock plunges the rest of the way in, back to pistoning inside you and knocking the breath from your lungs as you scrabble to take hold of him.

he pants against your skin, breath steaming and hot. he really was a dragon. "it was you, only you that got me through it all," he growls. "one night, in the mountains, freezing to death. i thought of my wife," your cunt clenches at that, and he whines. his cock pounds into you, and you think his words are the only thing keeping you from going delirious with each stroke. "even if you hated me, just the thought of- fuck!- being near you was enough. and now? my beautiful wife tells me she wants me to put a baby in her belly?"

his kisses are messy, but you meet him halfway with every single one. with each movement, you feel yourself become more tangled in him, as the coiling knot inside you tightens, tightens, and snaps.

your thighs clench around his waist, in a fruitful attempt to slow him down as an incredible, mind-numbing pleasure tears through your insides and clouds every thought in your mind.

"cho- choso-!"

his name from your lips, and the throbbing clench of your walls around his thick length, are enough to make him slam his cock inside, reaching a new depth as he spills everything he has to give inside you. he chokes on air, teeth attaching to your neck in a claiming bite. you feel his warm release coat your insides, and which each throb of it inside you, he begs, "please, please, i love you, i love you," into your ear.

the white-hot pleasure ebbs, leaving a warm contentment to settle in your still-joined bodies. choso gives a groan, leaning to his side and bringing you to nestle into him.

"i love you." you murmur. you feel his cock twitch inside you, amongst the mess he's plugging up.

choso blinks slowly at you, eyes searching your face with the softest of smiles. "i'll never tire of hearing that," he answers. "i have you. finally."

you press a kiss to his lips, all blushing and soft smiles between you. "you always have."

its with that he pushes you gently onto your back once again, thrusting inside with a clement gentleness. whispering sighs fill the bedroom once more, and you smile into the skin of his shoulder.

husband and wife, at last.

a/n: the more i wrote of this the more i want to do some mini bonus chapters bc knight!choso has consumed my brain. anyway hope u enjoyed!