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lesdemonium · 4 years

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I’d Be the Choiceless Hope Chapter 14

Ship: Geraskier Word count: 40228 (total) Chapter: 14/16 Summary:

“Such a nice, beautiful sound,” the fae crooned. “If only he were this way always.”

Julian’s mother stood up. She claimed she was prepared to stop the fae, to protect her baby, but in Julian’s darkest moments he doubted this part of the story. His mother loved him, of that he had no doubt, but she had been young and weary, and even years later, she couldn’t quite get the twinge of exhaustion out of her eyes when she recalled Julian’s infancy. Even if she had been keen on protecting him, the fae was too close, too fast, too set on his plan.

“A gift, for the new mother,” the fae continued. He leaned a hand in to stroke Julian’s cheek. “I give you the gift of obedience.”

As a baby, Jaskier was visited by a fae, who gifted Jaskier’s mother with Jaskier’s obedience. As Jaskier grew older, the “gift” became more of a curse.

Additional tags: AngstAngst with a Happy EndingHeavy AngstUnrequited LoveNot Actually Unrequited LoveAlternate Universe - Canon DivergenceCanon EraNot Canon CompliantCursed Jaskier | DandelionAlternate Universe - Ella Enchanted FusionCurse of ObedienceRape/Non-con ElementsImplied/Referenced Rape/Non-conJaskier | Dandelion Whump

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In the tavern in Tridam Jaskier played for only about half an hour before the crowd threw food at him and told him to cut out the maudlin crap. He couldn't blame them; it was hard to focus on singing of the might of the White Wolf, when Jaskier's wounds were still such a raw edge. He tried to change his tune, play happier songs, and his audience accepted it, though they did not tip him well enough to afford more than a bowl of stew. Perhaps they could spot his fraudulent smile, and the way it didn't quite reach his eyes. Maybe he was lacking charm now.

In Prana he found a lover. A beautiful man, with red, curly hair and a beard long enough for Jaskier to run his fingers through it. He told Jaskier exactly where he wanted him to be, exactly what he wanted Jaskier to do. Jaskier accepted it, allowing himself to be moved and bossed. There was a simplicity in it all, and he found himself almost comfortable with the tension in his muscles at each order. At least it was familiar. The man wasn't much for pillow talk, exactly, and fell asleep soon after they finished. The next morning, as he dressed, he was far more chatty.

"Where did you say you were headed?" he asked Jaskier as he tied up his trousers.

What was his name again? Rognir? Radek? It escaped Jaskier, but Jaskier was pretty sure that his own name had escaped his companion as well. At least they had that in common.

"South. Toward Sodden. Bards do better in big cities, after all. More coin to be made."

The man hummed, and Jaskier's heart ached. How silly, for something as simple as a hum to render him weak to the affections of his heart. Jaskier didn't have time for this. He pushed himself up in the bed, then turned to retrieve his own trousers.

"I'd be careful that way, if I were you. I’ve heard word of Nilfgaard moving north."

Jaskier shrugged his shoulders. "It will take them ages to make it that far north, surely. Last I heard, they were still in Assengard. Not exactly near to Sodden."

He stood, and turned to his companion just in time to see him shake his head. Then he pulled his shirt back on--a shame, to hide all that chest hair, in a shirt so stiff--and shrugged his shoulders.

"I've heard they're as far as Hochebuz." His eyes swept over the room and he retrieved a discarded purse.

"I'm sure Cintra’s army will sack them before they get too far. This is hardly the first time Nilfgaard has grown too big for its britches. The rest of the continent will set them straight."

Jaskier's companion shrugged again, his hand on the door. "Suit yourself."

He said this in lieu of a goodbye. Normally, Jaskier would have rolled his eyes, commented to himself on how rude that was, to not even say goodbye to the person you just spent the night with. Jaskier was relieved, though. Relieved that the man wanted to leave, and with haste, at that. Yes, he would suit himself.

Jaskier "suited himself" in Vizima through the winter. The lady of a grand court was quite taken with him, and begged her lordly husband to allow Jaskier to grace their court. Jaskier couldn't quite tell what, exactly, she was so taken with, as even he could admit that he quickly wore out his welcome among his audiences. The lady, Amelie seemed to enjoy his songs of heartbreak, however, and begged him to play for the rest of her ladies at every opportunity. It was cathartic, in a way. He had rid himself of his own tears, but whenever he saw the misty look in the eyes of the ladies he played for, he could almost feel it himself. Every time, he could breathe just a little easier. When he closed his eyes, he still saw amber eyes staring at him, but it didn't hurt as much. It only filled him with a sense of longing, which Jaskier could deal with. He had grown familiar with that particular feeling, after all these years.

In Maribor, whispers of Nilfgaard’s advance continued. People spoke in hushed voices, largely about how they had thought the winter would have slowed them down, but seemed to have only made them stronger. They were advancing on Cintra proper, though, and surely Cintra would put them back in their place.

Maribor wasn’t great for making money, but after Jaskier’s winter at court, his purse was full and he could afford a few duds to try out new material. The songs weren’t as popular as his songs about the White Wolf, but he wasn’t expecting them to be. Not everyone cared for songs of heartbreak, but betrayal seemed to at least be a uniting thread.

Jaskier heard tell of a witcher in Aldesberg. He traveled there as fast as he could, but the alderman told Jaskier, with an incredulous eyebrow raised, that he had just missed the white haired beast. The witcher had brought the alderman the head of the selkiemore just that morning, and hightailed it out of town only an hour before Jaskier made it there.

The same thing happened in Lyria and Scala, and by the time it happened in Kagen, Jaskier couldn’t bring himself to be surprised anymore. It was no longer a coincidence that he was missing Geralt; it was an intention.

Jaskier curbed himself north as news of Nilfgaard’s war chased at his coattails. Everyone who could, it seemed, was moving north, trying to escape the bloodshed. Freedom fighters everywhere talked a big game, but when a new traveler strode into town with tales of Nilfgaard’s victories, every one of them paled and sunk into their drinks.

“You sing songs of the White Wolf,” Jaskier’s bed partner in Mayena said to him, her long nails trailing along his bare shoulder in a way that made him shiver.

“On occasion. Can’t stay on one subject for too long, before people grow tired of the same songs,” Jaskier deflected, and he took her hand to press a kiss along her fingertips. She giggled, but would not be deterred.

“Have you any new ones? What has he fought lately?” she asked.

“I’m afraid I can’t answer that for you.” The bed suddenly felt cold, unwelcoming, and Jaskier pushed himself to a seat. “I haven’t traveled with Geralt of Rivia for quite some time. Almost a year, now.”

He pulled on his smallclothes and trousers, and tried not to cringe as her fingers trailed along his back.

“I’ve heard rumors. Of a bard that traveled with a witcher.” Jaskier felt a chill run down his spine in a different way. He kept his movements paced as he pulled his shirt over his head. “The bard does everything you ask him to.”

Jaskier fixed her with a rueful smile, then turned to pull on his boots. “Some rumors are just that: rumors,” he said, gathering the rest of his belongings in his hand. “This has been lovely, but I really must take my leave.” He took her hand, though everything in him urged him to recoil, to slink away, to get to safety. Instead, Jaskier pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “Remember me fondly?”

If she responded, Jaskier didn’t know, he was out of the room so fast. On to the next town. And the next. And the next.

Cintra fell when Jaskier was in Dorian. He stayed there a full week, his fingers twitching the entire time, trying to decide what to do, where to go. Overnight, it was as if the town was haunted. Routines and work went about as normal, but the chatter was gone, and a thin veneer of gray seemed to settle over everything. Jaskier couldn’t stay here, he knew that. The smart option would be to go north, to avoid Nilfgaard’s advancing forces.

Jaskier went south, toward Cintra.

Geralt’s child surprise had been in Cintra. Though Jaskier himself had no attachment to the child, had never even met the child, there was still something inside him screaming that he had to get there, to make sure they were safe. He refused to believe they were already dead. If they had already died, then all hope would be lost, for Jaskier, and perhaps even for Geralt and the continent.

A small, quiet part of Jaskier hoped that if he made it to Cintra in time, and found the child surprise, he could find Geralt, too. It was selfish of him, he knew, and he tempered it only with the fact that he truly did want to help, and this felt like an actionable way to help. He had been listless and without direction since he and Geralt had parted. This gave him a direction.

The direction brought him to a tavern in Dillingen. Coin had been scarce, but usually barkeeps were willing to put him up in exchange for an evening of song. If he helped a little here and there, they’d throw him a hot meal. The tips were bad, near nonexistent, but Jaskier wasn’t surprised. War seemed to make people hold onto their coin just a little tighter.

“I thank you all for being such a wonderful audience,” Jaskier said with a flourishing bow, only to be met with weak, scattered applause. “I must take my leave of you now. I hope we all meet again someday soon.”

He made his way to the bar, landing a few coins on the table in exchange for an ale. It tasted like cold piss, but Jaskier couldn’t quite bring himself to put it away. He had paid for it, after all. Someone touched his shoulder.

“Sorry, love,” Jaskier said, not bothering to turn around. “Show’s over. I have an early day tomorrow.”

“You can leave with us, nice and easy, or we can make a scene.”

The voice was deeper and gruffer than Jaskier expected. He turned in his seat to see two Nilfgaardian soldiers before him. A quick glance around confirmed that the entire tavern was turned in their direction, and every face Jaskier could see looked petrified. Jaskier felt pretty petrified himself. Every instinct in him told him to run, to get far away from these soldiers, but how far would he honestly get?

Jaskier nodded once, took his ale and downed it all in one, continuous gulp, and allowed the soldiers to take him.

“I get the distinct feeling you think I’m someone that I’m not,” Jaskier argued, as they sat him in a chair, deep in the basement of a modest castle. If castles could be modest.

The soldiers did not reply, though one did roll his eyes. At least they were listening, even if they did not rise to his bait. There wasn’t much of a point of keeping up the arguing and annoying he had done thus far, though he had to admit he was… curious. The chair he sat in was a fine one, with cushions and all, and steel manacles affixed to it, which his wrists were now bound by. The table in front of him was grand, with ornate carvings, and though he was undoubtedly in the dungeons, there were little touches of elegance here and there.

Likely, the Nilfgaardians would kill him once they realized they only had Jaskier, rather than someone important, but there were far more uncomfortable places to be held.

He was left waiting, alone, for a long time. So long he had started humming, testing the parameters of his bindings--the chair tilted backward, so it was moveable, but made of a thick wood that would be hard to break--and coming up with wild conjectures for what, exactly, he was doing there. Who did they think he was? Some noble with power and lands? Well, he had divested himself of all that. Someone with information? Unlikely, unless they wanted to know the lyrics to all of his songs and where the best brothels in various towns were. Truly, they must have just mixed him up for someone far more important.

It wasn’t until a tall, thin, blonde man walked in that Jaskier started to feel nervous. The man had a proud air about him, and Jaskier was suddenly overwhelmed with the knowledge that this was bad . Very, very bad. Either he had a particularly proud lower level officer before him, or he had a rightly proud higher level officer before him. He wasn’t sure which option was worse.

“Bard,” the man greeted. “I’m Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach. You may refer to me as Cahir.” He took a seat at the other end of the table. “You have some information I want.”

“No, I’m quite certain I don’t,” Jaskier answered. “I’m only a bard, nothing more, and I’m afraid the best information I could give you is possibly best lute care or how to tell if a woman who’s giving you bedroom eyes is married, and whether or not she’s worth it.”

Cahir’s eyebrow quirked, but otherwise his face remained stoic. “I’m not interested in your profession. I’m interested in the company you keep.”

Jaskier’s throat dried. It took him a few hard swallows before he felt as if he could speak again without betraying anything. “I think you’ll notice that I was alone when your fine men picked me up.”

“I want to know the location of Geralt of Rivia.”

Jaskier sighed. “Again, I think you’ll notice that I was alone when you took me from that tavern.”

“I’ve heard interesting tales around these parts,” Cahir said, tapping his fingers on the table. He looked off, just to the left of Jaskier’s head. “You are a bard that goes by the name of Jaskier. Your given name, however, is Julien Alfred Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove. Though, I learned recently that a Viscountess by the name of Adeline and her husband are to inherit the title and lands that come with it upon the death of the current Count of Lettenhove.”

Jaskier furrowed his eyebrows, watching Cahir’s fingers as they tapped an easy, unhurried beat. “I hardly think familial political squabbles of a minor town would be considered interesting to the conquering Nilfgaardian army. If you want my blessing to invade, by all means, go ahead. As you have heard, I have been disinherited,” Jaskier smirked, as if his heart wasn’t pounding away in his chest.

“That’s not the interesting part,” Cahir answered, smirking back and finally meeting Jaskier’s eye. “I’ve already met the Viscountess. She had quite a lot to say about her disinherited brother. Including your choice of companion and a very interesting gift given to you by a fae.”

Jaskier tried very hard to keep his face neutral. This could still be a trick. He could still be missing information. It would not do to give anything away now.

“Stick out your tongue,” Cahir ordered, and Jaskier did. Cahir’s eyebrow raised. “Put your tongue away, and touch your nose.” This, Jaskier tried, but with his bound hands, all he could do was strain his wrist against the manacle and bend himself forward to awkwardly, so awkwardly, press his nose against his finger. “Stop, and sit back up.”

Jaskier faced him again, his jaw set and his eyes ablaze. This was far worse than he had anticipated, all because Adeline had a grudge.

“Very interesting indeed.” Cahir’s smile was cruel, and Jaskier would have given anything to smack it off his face. “Tell me, where is Geralt of Rivia?”

“I don’t know.”

“Now, now, Jaskier. You wouldn't lie to me, would you?” Cahir frowned, but his voice was still amused.

“We’ve already established that I can’t. I haven’t seen Geralt in over a year now. Last I heard of him was over nine months ago in Kagen. He could be anywhere on the continent now. Asking me questions about him is useless at best .” He would have gestured extravagantly to make this particular point, if only he had the mobility currently. As it was, Jaskier could only roll his eyes, with feeling, and his head with it.

Cahir ran his fingers over his chin. There wasn’t a beard there, and Jaskier had half a mind to tell him that he looked ridiculous, but this wasn’t exactly the situation to press his luck in.

“I believe you,” Cahir finally answered, and Jaskier resisted the urge to roll his eyes again. How generous of Cahir. “I still think you can be of some use to me, though. It’s so rare that I can find such an obedient soldier.”

Jaskier’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not a Nilfgaardian soldier,” he said through gritted teeth. “I’m not a soldier, period. I’ll be no help in conquering cities.”

Cahir laughed and shook his head. “Not to worry, bard. I have a much more special task for you. So much more important. You should feel honored.”

The smile Cahir gave Jaskier was proud, as if he truly was going to honor Jaskier. Jaskier grimaced in response, and tensed his body, as if that would protect him from whatever blow was to come.

“Find the witcher and the princess.” Jaskier’s eyes grew wide and he shook his head, as if shaking his head fast enough would stop Cahir from speaking. It didn’t work, and Cahir continued on, “As soon as you and the witcher are alone, kill him with whatever weapon you can find.”

“No! Stop it!” Jaskier demanded, trying futilely to free himself of the manacles. It wasn’t working, it only made the steel cut into his skin, but still he tried. The chair was heavier than he thought, and all he could do was rock it back and forth, barely lifting the legs off the floor. “I won’t do it! This won’t work!”

“It will. You do everything you’re told, whether you want to or not,” Cahir answered, unbothered. “Do whatever you can to kill him, and bring the princess back here. Do not tell anyone of this plan.”

He stood up, unmoved by the hot, angry tears streaming down Jaskier’s face or the way Jaskier continued to struggle. It didn’t matter, Jaskier knew. He already had his orders, and Cahir had been exceptionally specific.

“We will draw the witcher back. Word has already spread that we have his bard; it won’t take long before he tries to free you, if your sister’s information is accurate. When we release you, carry out our plan.” He wiped off his pants, and gave Jaskier a pitying gaze. “Unfortunately, it would look too suspicious if you came out of here looking as if nothing had happened. So I do apologize for this, and I hope you know that Nilfgaard appreciates your service to the emperor.”

Jaskier stared up at Cahir blankly as he exited the room. He blinked as the guards advanced on him, taking him away from the ornate table, the solid chair with the cushions, and into his own cell where he was shackled to the wall.

He lost time, after that. It didn't much matter if he was there for hours, or days, or weeks. It felt like years. It felt like one bruise bled into the next, one humiliation topped by another. It turned out the guards knew about his gift as well. Jaskier had always been an oddity or a delight, depending on the partner. He had never been a joke before.

read chapter 15

#geraskier #geralt x jaskier #jaskier x geralt #geraskier fic #geraskier fanfic #my writing

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kpopisthereasonihavenolife · 6 years

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When MX realized the moment they fell in love with their best friend

Shownu: He had been friends with you for the majority of life. You both shared similar interests and that included dance and singing. Although your tastes in the subject would sometimes clash, they still kept the friendship between you. In high school, when Shownu was introduced to your new boyfriend, he felt a strange nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach when he noticed how you smiled to your boyfriend. Over time, he’d notice how he would start seeing you less, of if you were with him, your conversations would be cut short by your boyfriend coming and pulling you away from Shownu. Not wanting to interfere with your relationship, he just shut his mouth and let it all happen.

Texts from you also shortened, and soon both your presence, voice and text messages were all gone from his life. It was a short time that you went without contacting him at all, but it felt like a horribly long, torturous time to Shownu. It was early on a weekend, that Shownu’s phone was ringing, waking him up from his sleep.

Early may be an understatement, as he saw your name light across his screen at 3:14 AM. When he picked up the call, he sat up in bed and answered you. When you spoke, your voice was low and almost raspy as you only asked if he’d let you inside.

He darted to the door, keeping his phone to his ear as he unlocked and unlatched it before swinging it open. You stood in front of him, eyes puffy from crying and head hanging slightly with your phone to your ear. He quickly pulled you to into the apartment he lived in, and then held you to his chest as you cried more. You went on to tell him about how your boyfriend was a jerk who was just trying to get in your pants and have someone to order around. You apologize for not contacting him, but Shownu knew it wasn’t your fault. He took you to his room and let you rest on his bed with him as you wept yourself to sleep.

Looking at your swollen, saddened face, he had the strongest urge to protect you. He didn’t want anything, or anyone, to hurt you again. He wanted you to stay with him, as his. Seeing you at your most vulnerable, and also knowing your smile and laugh as well as your tears and fears, made him realize he was in love.

*Shownu’s phone rings with your name across the screen*

Shownu: Hello? Y/N? What are you calling so early for?

Y/N: Sorry, could you just, let me inside?

*bounds out of bed and opens the door to pull you inside after seeing your swollen eyes. You continue to cry and talk to him finally*

Y/N: I’m so sorry.. I didn’t- i didn’t mean to ignore you, he just- he wouldn’t let me have my phone. A-and he always followed me around and all he just wanted to fuck around with me and I-i didn’t

Shownu: Hey, it’s okay. I won’t let anyone inside, and you’re safe here. I know it wasn’t your fault.

*takes you back to his room where you fall asleep with him on his bed as he stares at your sleeping figure*

Shownu: When you wake up, I hope you realized that you need to be with me, stay in my arms where you’re safe. I won’t let anyone hurt you, not ever again.

Wonho: You were both gym rats. Of course, Wonho, on one of his many trips to the gym, he met you. You were casually jogging at a steady pace on a treadmill, hair pulled back and where a crop-top with shorts and supportive tennis shoes. He thought you charming, so even if he was an awkward mess to new people, he decided to start up the treadmill next to yours and eventually, somehow a conversation started.

It started with you lip syncing and humming to the music the gym had playing for those without headphones. Then it progressed to your favorite method of exercise, then to vitamins, foods, health products, the whole nine yards.

Eventually, you both started seeing each other at the gym regularly and you even learned about his status as an idol, and having listened to his music, you were a pretty big fan of his work, as well as the rest of MX.

After a while of being at the gym together and chatting, becoming closer friends, you’d started calling these meeting ‘dates’. Soon enough, you two even started meeting outside the gym. He’d invite you to eat at his favorite ramyeon place, or he’d even bring you to the dorms so you could meet the rest of MX, whom you are also now close with.

It was one day when Wonho was laying in bed on his phone, texting you when Minhyuk causally suggest him liking her as more than a friend that it seemed to click. As he interally freaked out about liking someone, and potentially having a future girlfriend, he knew dating an idol was a pain in the ass for the non-famous side of the relationship.

So, sitting down with Minhyuk as they talked, he was able to accept the feelings he had towards you and Minhyuk was already planning, with the rest of the members, the best way for him to confess to you. As you already talked to Changkyun about how you like Hoseok too.

*Wonho casually texting you, deciding your next gym date*

Minhyuk: So, you have a thing for Y/N?

Wonho: I’m sorry?? What?

*proceeds to have an entire conversation, making Wonho come to terms with his feelings*

Wonho: I can’t have her as a girlfriend, dating an idol is hard. I don’t want to hurt her.

Minhyuk: I don’t think she’d mind. She knows you love what we do, and we care about our Monbebe. You don’t really have to worry about it too much.

*Has a new conversation about the pros and cons of a relationship with you until they’re discussing confession ideas with the rest of the members who eventually gather into the room, one by one.*

Minhyuk: You were an assistant manager for Starship Entertainment’s boy group Monsta X. Following orders given by their official manager, Mr. Kim, or stepping up when he was sick or unable to attend certain occasions, that’s when your role was the most crucial. However, despite this, you were able to act naturally around the group of 7 boys and created a positive relationship with all of them. You were especially close to the mood maker of the group, the ever loud Lee Minhyuk.

You two became closer when he was directing the acoustic film making of Beautiful. He ran off his ideas past you before finalizing something. He’d ask for your opinion on the setup for each member as well as their wardrobe. You’d give your pointers and also help manager the time in which he had left in completing the filming.

That long day gave the two of you more time to work as well as bond than most would. Now, every time he could, he’d invite you over to the dorms if you weren’t busy. He’d text you if you weren’t around while he and the rest of his team were out on his schedules and you couldn’t make it. You both made sure that you’d keep each other healthy, making sure to check if each other ate or are staying warm/cold in the weather outside. It wouldn’t take long for him to realize how he felt towards you.

He was also so use to seeing you dressed in your business slacks and a button up shirt with your hair put up neatly (If your hair is short, just have it neater than your everyday look), but when he and the rest of the team were out walking around shopping, they’d spotted you. You’re look had changed and you looked too cute for Minhyuk with your hair loose and your clothes much more comfortable fitting. He knew at that moment, how hard he fell for you.

*Jooheon, Minhyuk and Hyungwon are out shopping with MX, but are by themselves with the other four somewhere else*

Hyungwon: *spots you* Ah, isn’t that Y/N over there?

*Minhyuk and Jooheon look around*

Jooheon: Waaah, they look different outside of work hours. It’s almost weird.

Minhyuk: *interally screaming* Yahh, who said they can be that cute when they’re not working. That’s not fair and I’m not going to stand for it. Literally anyone can hit on them when they look that nice.

*exagerating to the max and JH and HW just stand there like wft bro* *Jooheon groans and Hyungwon smirks*

Minhyuk: What?

Jooheon: The team took sides on if you liked Y/N or nooot! *pouts*

Hyungwon: He was on the losing side, if you can’t tell.

Minhyuk: … YAH! DON’T BET ON MY LOVE LIFE YOU CRONES!

Kihyun: You were the personal photography of Monsta X. You were one of the lucky individual’s to receive copies of their schedules and follow them on occasion to snap the photos that their beloved MONBEBE’s craved to see. You had just finished up and graduated from majoring in photography and were lucky enough to be hired by Starship to follow the boys around.

Your tasks would rotate from giving advice on the best selca angle, to taking professional pictures at fanmeets and concerts and even sometimes working the rolling cams to capture videos for MVs or interviews.

You were going through a role of your most recent shots on your laptop when you felt someone come up behind you, scanning the photos with you. Nonother than Yoo Kihyun. You knew Kihyun had an interest in photography himself, and he was very skilled at the art of picture taking, whether he recognized his talent himself or not. You had shifted over a bit and pulled up a stood for him to sit on as you invited him to help evaluate what photos to save, what to edit and what to post with filters or without.

Soon, you both found yourself doing this almost every jacket shoot they took. He’d go over the photos of himself and his team and pick out his favorites. On your days you weren’t photographing and the boys were free, you’d go through the camera roll on your phone as Kihyun peeked over your shoulder to see what your phone had.

Then, one day you had come over to hang out and once again share photos, but as Kihyun walked into the living room from his room to change, he saw your slumped body sleeping on the couch. As a photographer, life wasn’t easy. You’d always fret about the smallest things, and those would keep you up at night. You’re sleep schedule was nearly as horrid as his own.

So, as he sat himself down next to you, he pulled to rest your head on his shoulder and pulled his phone from his pocket. Opening the front camera, he took a sneaky selca of you sleeping on his shoulder and rather casually put it as his phone background. He knew he was attracted to your skill from day 1, but maybe that was just him trying to deny his attraction to you as a person.

Kihyun: Yah, Y/N, have you gone through the photos of the fanmeet in Seoul yet?

*sees you sleeping on the couch and sits next to you, pulling you to lay on his shoulder*

Kihyun: I suppose, you are tired. I’ll let you sleep, but not for free. *pulls out his phone and takes a selca of you sleeping on his shoulder* This is your fee. If you’re aloud to fall asleep in a boys dorm, at least make sure it’s always with me around, you understand?

Hyungwon: You both met while Hyungwon was a runway model. You were as well, advertising and wearing the latest fashion to show off. There was a couple model event and you and your co-workers were to be paired up with a group of male models. You ended up being paired with Hyungwon.

Before the photo-shoot and the modeling job was to arrive, you were to spend time with your partner so you would be able to act like a real couple. Hyungwon was usually with you walking around a park, or sitting at some random cafe drinking a coffee as you talked and got to know each other.

You both took your jobs seriously, so when you exchanged numbers for work, none of your expected to truly become so close. Even when the day of the job came and went, you two still remained close, and soon as time passed and he was already competing on and finishing No.Mercy and debuting with Monsta X.

It was no surprised that all of the members knew you, as he would often talk about you to them and you met most of them while they were filming on No.Mercy. So when you would show up at the dorms, no one was surprised, they’d just be delighted, Hyungwon the most.

He’s known for sometime that he had something of a crush on you, but he didn’t act on any of his feelings, knowing he is busy all the time. However, on one of your visits, Kihyun, who happens to know Hyungwon likes you, decides to tease and ‘flirt’ with you. Effectively, Hyungwon announces the two of you will be going out on your own and you spend the rest of the afternoon walking around.

Of course, Hyungwon walked you home and returned to the dorms, only to have a long conversation on why Kihyun decided to be a twerp.

*You’re over for a visit today and Kihyun keeps standing closer than normal to you. He’s talking more about your interests and jobs, and even praising photos that have been released recentlly as you’re still doing modeling*

Hyungwon: *Annoyed* Hey, Y/N, we’re going out. Put your shoes on.

Y/N: Uh, what? Okay??

*Hyungwon glares at Kihyun, leaves with you and leaves Kihyun a laughing mess at his reaction*

Jooheon: You were a new, rising rapper. You had posted a few of your song you had composed and written onto Youtube and from there it seemed like the world was ready to welcome you. Your content had spread through social media and the amount of views of your videos skyrocketed. You had received shout outs and comments from all sorts of people and even small companies praising your work, but only one company decided to go out on the limb and ask if you’d like to contract with them.

That’s how you came to be recording and producing at Startship Entertainment as a solo artist. Your speciality stayed in rapping, but you had a talent for the singing side of performance too. You had asked if you could begin to take dancing lessons and that way you’d have a pretty good regiment under your belt.

You happened to be working on a song, sitting in the middle of a practice room with your headset on and a notebook on your lap, twirling the pen in your fingers. You had an idea on what you wanted to write, but the lyrics wouldn’t come out right. No matter the rhythm of the words used in different orders, nothing seemed to sit right with you. You were nearly scared out of your skin when someone tapped on your shoulder, causing your headset to fall to your shoulders and you to throw your pen in terror as your notebook slid from your lap and you turned to see who touched you.

Lee Jooheon stood behind you, one of the two rappers from a group of senior debuters, Monsta X. YOu took a breath as you calmed your racing heart and slumped to the ground, your back laying on the hard floor. Jooheon apologized for scaring you and asked what you were doing.

After an intense conversation about your songs, and his as well, you discussed lyrics and beats, as well as the way you two found inspiration to write and sing and rap. It didn’t take much for Jooheon to admire the way your spoke so happily about your songs and he immediately proposed a mixtape with the two of you. He asked without a beat, and almost flushed out how direct he was, but nonetheless, you happily agreed.

So, for the next few months, the two of your would meet up to work on concepts and what not for the single. It was no mystery that the two of your got closer and enjoyed the presence of the other. Jooheon would perk up when he caught a glance of you, or if you stopped by to talk with the members.

Unbeknownst to you thought, Jooheon was working behind the scenes with I.M. to write yet another song he was going to release, not too long planned after his and yours. Only difference is, the song I.M. was helping him with, was basically a vague, indirect confession to you. The maknae never stops teasing him about it.

I.M.: I don’t see why you don’t just come out and confess like a normal person.

Jooheon: No way! Why would I do something as cliche as that? I need this to be awesome, it needs to be lit and the only way for that to happen is if it’s in a song with swagger.

I.M.: *scans the lyrics* Yeah, a song about how their hair is shining and their tongue parting their lips in concentration is real swaggy.

I.M.: You two were internet friends. You had met when he was on No.Mercy and was having a rough time. He never mentioned he was on an elimination show to debut as K-Pop idols, until he actually debuted. He ended up sending you a link to the Trespass MV and casually mentioned he was one of the rappers in the MV.

You ofc, freaked out and praised him on how good the song was and how talented he was, as well as chewed him out from hiding it from you. You two would text, call, Skype and facetime as often as possible.

You both shared similar interests in science and he learned that he actually lived in the states, but you were born in Korea and moved to the states when you were young, so you spoke both languages. So, you would occasionally speak in both languages. Some in English, some in Korean and some in both mixed together which always turned into a disaster.

So, when you one day, our of the blue, sent him a picture of a plane ticket to Korea, more specifically Seoul, Changkyun basically flipped his shit. He ran around the dorms, freaking out about the fact his best friend was coming to Korea and he just couldn’t stay calm. He made you call him and tell you what it was about and you said it was a surprise you had been planning.

About a week later, Changkyun was pacing back in forth in the airport, waiting by your gate number as he waiting for your plane to land. Soon, he caught a glimpse of you and shouted as he ran towards you. You caught sight of him and ran to him and finally you two held each other, happy to finally meet in person.

It was when he was holding you that he knew he choose the right person to fall in love with.

*Changkyun pacing back and forth as you plane landed and people are soon walking into the airport, luggage tugging behind them. Soon, he sees you*

I.M.: Ah! Y/N!!

*You hear him as he’s running towards you and you start running to him to, suitcase behind you. You soon meet and embrace each other, not ready to let go for a long time*

Y/N: I finally made it.

I.M.: I finally get to meet you. I’m so happy to see you F/N. Welcome to Korea.

All gifs belong to their respectful owners!!

#monsta x #monsta x drabbles #monsta x imagines #monsta x memes #shownu #wonho #minhyuk #kihyun #hyungwon #jooheon #i.m #changkyun #hyunwoo #drabbles #imagines #mx

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kimyonaelioiscreative · 7 years

Text

A Queen’s Duty

This was supposed to be a short story based of This post by @lolo-loco but I got a bit carried away... Well hope you like it!

And a Extreamly big tank you to my Beta reader @ryuzakura!!

Summary: The Queen and King of Spades was just going to have a romantic dinner, but that was not what they got.

It was quiet in the study, only the sound of a fountain pen writing on parchment could be heard. If one listened really closely a faint hum and a small curse would break the peace on several occasions, but no one would be surprised, the Queen had a rather foul mouth after all. On more than one occurrence this habit of his had gotten the country in a pinch, but it usually got resolved after the King talked some sense in the Queen who would, very reluctantly, apologise to whomever had been on the receiving end of his inappropriate words.

A new sound reached the Queen's ears, three deep, but in the silence, sonorous knocks.

“Come in,” the Queen said, trying not to show irritation on his voice.

The door slammed open accompanied with a happy cry.

“Artie! you're back!!”

“It is Arthur, your highness,” the Queen answered without lifting his eyes from the papers in front of him.

“Aaw, are you still mad about yesterday?” the King asked, a pout now taking over his beautiful features.

“No, why would you think that?” the Queen anwsered, still not averting his gaze from his work.

“Because you called me ‘your highness’ and you only do that when you are mad.”

Silence.

“Listen, I'm sorry. Let me make it up to you!” the King tried.

Finally putting down his pen and looking up into the King's blue eyes the Queen replied with a serious tone.

“You missed our wedding anniversary, there is nothing you can do to make it up to me, Alfred.”

“I know, I know. Just… Please have dinner with me tonight. I know I have been busy lately so please” the King begged “I'll even cook it myself!” He added as a last try in persuade the Queen.

The Queen pressed his lips into a tight line and looked over his husband, trying to find signs of any implications.

“Fine, but it better be a good bloody meal or you are sleeping on the couch for a month” he finally replied. Joy spread through the King’s body and his whole face lit up like a sun. He fist bumped the air and the Queen started to already regret his decision, shook his head and got back to work. Before the pen even touched the parchment however, the King started talking again.

“Where were you earlier? I came here four times and you weren't here any of them!!”

“I was away for one and a half hour, reading in the garden” the Queen said, annoyed.

“But you've been away like that for weeks, months even!”

“Yes Alfred, it is something I do every day as I find it calming and soothing in our hectic days.”

“Oh... I see.”

Looking up again the Queen realised the King wasn't going to move and sighed.

“You have more work to do, I am not accepting that you can't make it tonight because you weren't done.”

“But it's boring! I'd rather stay here” the King grinned. A glare from the Queen made the earlier pout come back and he surrendered.

“Fine” he said, drawing out the i “Meet me in the dining hall at six o’clock.” He turned around and walked away.

“Close the bloody door after you!” the Queen shouted but too late as The King was already too far away to hear. Or he just ignored it. The Queen got up to close it but the Jack, Yao, entered.

“Your Majesty, there is something we need to discuss, aru” the rather short, brown haired man said and closed the door.

* * * * * * * * * * *

As evening came The Queen went to his quarters to change into something more appropriate for a late anniversary dinner. After rummaging through his closet he found what he was looking for: a white dress shirt, a blue vest, light brown pants, brown boots and a blue coat. To top it all off, he also put on a big white bow around his neck and a blue small top hat with a white sash around its base angled a bit on the side of his head. With one last look in the mirror he took his usual white short gloves and left for the dining hall.

It was quiet again, only Arthur's’ footsteps echoed through the castle. It was strange, it nagged at the back of his head but he refused to worry now, he was going to have a wonderful evening with his husband and he would not let anything get in the way, especially not his paranoia.

Growing up in the castle had its pros and cons and the paranoia was one of those cons.

In the Kingdom of Spades the successors to the King and Queen wasn’t decided by who their firstborn was but rather who had the mark. The future rulers and their Jack had an upside down heart with a triangle at the bottom, the symbol of spades, on their wrist. The size of it decided which role one had been tasked with, the King had the biggest, the Queen a bit smaller and the smallest one was the Jack. It was very rare that two from the same family entered the Royal court without the pass of three generations. The Prince and Princess, which was the titles of the Queen and King’s inheritors, moved to the palace at the age of ten to start their education. Arthur and Alfred were a bit special though. Arthur was the son of the previous King and Queen and had started his lessons at the age of five which resulted in him also learning about the King's duties. Alfred, on the other hand, had been a traveler and wasn’t found until five and a half years ago, at the age of eighteen. This was a problem since the late King had been dead for 5 years, assassinated during Arthur's 15th birthday celebration. The Queen and the Princess had worked double to manage everything in the absence of a Prince. It didn't take long however, before the Queen had been bedridden due to stress and Arthur had taken the full work load for three years before Alfred arrived.

Arthur shook his head, no point in thinking about that now. He had put up three different types of entrance wards at every secret door that led into the castle and a charm that would notify him if anyone was to come through. The known doors had guards guarding them so no one would get in that way either. He would know if someone broke in… Right? There was always a possibility. Trying to get away from the uncomfortable silence he hurried his steps.

He opened the beautifully carved, massive oak doors that lead to the dining hall. The sight he was met with was not what he was expecting, in fact it was just as normal. So much for making up for a missed anniversary. Alfred wasn’t even there. The only thing out of the ordinary was five lit candles in a half circle on the long table. He walked over, careful so Alfred wouldn’t jump out from behind a curtain, but he got to the table without any trouble. In the middle of the half circle of candles, he found a note.

Hey Artie!! So I thought dining in the hall would be a bit boring so I’ve hidden. Here is a clue as to where I am, come find me ;) During the day this place is always warm, and I might spend more time there than I ought. Go chat with the lovely staff and they might tell you my path.

Arthur knitted his eyebrows togrther but couldn’t help the smile gracing his lips, Alfred had remembered. Now where do Alfred spend more time than he ought to? It was obvious, the kitchen.

The kitchen was just a room away from the dining room and as soon as Arthur opened the door he understood what Alfred meant with it being warm. The stoves were on full and it was as busy as ever, servants were running all around obeying every order the chef shouted. When Arthur entered however, they all slowed down. The King regularly visited but the Queen… Usually that meant disaster and the Queen had learned to stay away. Without being bothered by the change in atmosphere he walked inside and over to the still shouting young man in front of the stoves that was the Chef, Leon.

“Chef Leon” the Queen said to get his attention. It worked and he looked up.

“Your Majesty, is there something I can do for you?”

“Yes, have you seen the King?”

“He was here earlier today, told me to give you something, wait here.” As he went to get whatever it was, the Queen looked at the pots and pans in front of him. He did have the urge to bake something but he knew he shouldn’t, he had learned he had no cooking skills whatsoever when he was a child and had set fire to the kitchen on five different occasions. After that he had been banned from even touching anything in there.

“Don’t even think about it” Leon interrupted his thoughts. He held out a straw basket which the Queen took.

“You didn’t even work here when it happened.” the Queen sounded offended.

“No, but they warned me, and you are not destroying this kitchen.”

“Fine” the Queen sighed and looked in the basket for the first time. In it lay a bottle of cold champagne and a piece of paper.

“Well I have to go, thank you for this” He held up the basket and Leon nodded before turning around at the sound of a pot hitting the ground. “Idiot! Clean that up while I’ll start on a new one!” He shouted and sprinted away to get ingredients. The Queen turned away from the chaos and exited through the same door he entered though. In the small room outside, that only served as to cut out the sound from the kitchen, he took up the note to find out where to go next.

Yeay! You found me! Well, one step closer at least. Now, Fun and games belongs elsewhere, for in this room with pens and papers more serious things adhere.

The Queen looked confused at the note, that one was actually good, had he gotten help to come up with it? He thought about it for a moment but then decided to just appreciate the effort. Putting back the note in the basket together with the first one he walked to his study, which he guessed was where to go.

It was just as he left it, every book in the shelf, the papers in a tidy pile on the left and his pen on the right. No, wait his pen wasn’t there, instead there was a beautiful empty gold frame with a note stuck in the left bottom corner. Was it really that easy? He took the note and read it.

One more item acquired, good work! So I tried the riddle thing and it didn’t work out so I’m just going to send you one more place before saying where I am and screw riddles. Go get your favourite book and meet me in the garden.

The Queen laughed, riddles took some time to come up with and he knew the King didn’t have the patience for it, but it was quite fun and he was surprised the King had managed to come up with two of them. He took a handkerchief he had when he worked, put it around the picture frame and put it in the basket. Now his favourite book was a bit harder, there were so many! How could he possibly choose just one? He started to walk toward the library as he pondered. There was all of Shakespeare’s works, or Jane Austen but he couldn't ignore Harry Potter or the Grimm brothers’ stories.

He arrived in the library faster than expected and looked up at the two stories of almost filled 3 meter tall bookcases. He loved it in here, the smell of the books, the light from the glass ceiling and the feeling of utter peace. He placed his left hand on the first book and stroked the back while reading the name before going to the next one. Every book was in order, first sorted alphabetically by the author's last name, than alphabetically by the title name with the exception of when it was a series, in which case it was sorted in reading order. He walked around, reading title after title but not really finding what he was looking for. More than twenty minutes after deciding to start from A he stopped with his hand on Barrie, J.M. He took out the book and smiled fondly, memories from his childhood washing over him. Memories of him picking this book almost every night as good night story, finding comfort in the familiar characters when he was sad and sneaking away from his studies at times just to say hello to them. Peter Pan. He stroked the book while walking down the staircase in the middle of the library. The basket, which he had put down by the bottom of the stairs on his way up to the second floor, he picked up with his left hand when he got back down. He didn't want to put the book in it in case it got a scratch but when he came to the door he had to, as he had no hand to open the door with. He was careful when he placed it next to the wrapped frame but still worried.

As soon as he had walked through the door he picked it up again and after a couple of turns he came to the big double glass doors that led to the back balcony and garden of the castle. He opened them and was overwhelmed by all the sounds. Birds chirping, the water in the fountain splashing, the wind blowing through trees and bushes and crickets playing. He stepped out, his steps on the stone adding to the symphony, the breeze rustling his hair and flowers trying to charm him with their scents. At the end of the balcony, near where stone became grass sat the King on a purple blanket, set with champagne glasses, plates covered with metal dome, to keep the food warm, and cutlery.

As the Queen drew closer he could see that the King looked a bit gloomy but when he turned around his face lit up.

“Artie, I didn't think you would come!” He stood, giving the Queen a full view of his outfit. He wore a similar outfit to the Queen but the coat was a lighter shade of blue and a bit different in design and instead of the white bow the Queen had, the King had a dark blue tie. He also wore a broadsword in a scabbard on his left hip, making it easy for him to draw it with his right hand.

“Of course I would come. You just gave me a rather hard quest” the Queen answered and held up the book. They hugged as the Queen got to the blanket.

“Which one did you pick?” the King asked as he offered his hand to help his Queen. The Queen stubbornly refused and rather gracefully sat down on the blanket, putting down the basket and book next to himself before answering.

“Peter Pan, but you already guessed that, seeing as you made a sort of treasure map for me.”

“You said you loved playing pirate and detective as a child and I thought why not combine them! What did you think about it?”

“It was absolutely fantastic, you couldn't have started it better. However I do wonder what we are going to eat” he said and gestured to the plates in front of them. A twinkle appeared in the King’s eyes and he dramatically said

“May I present the most exquisite food you will ever get to taste” and he took off the cloche of the Queen's plate. Under it was a greyish white glob, which the Queen couldn’t quite say what it was, with some sort of meat on top.

“Mushroom risotto with pesto filled chicken filet” the King smiled as he saw the Queen's confused face. Realization dawned on the Queen but quickly went on to skepticism as he was not certain he wanted to taste it.

“Are you sure? It looks rather… distasteful.”

“Hey, that’s not nice! I mean sure, it doesn’t look the best but it tastes great. Even Chef said it did!” The King answered with a pout.

“I guess I'll have to taste it in that case.” He picked up the silver fork, took up a bit and tasted it. The King watched in anticipation for the Queen's judgement. After what felt like ages the Queen finally nodded.

“It does taste a lot better than it looks.”

“Really?!” the King almost shouted in enthusiasm, bouncing up and down.

“Yes” was all the Queen said before taking another bite. The King mimicked the Queen and they ate in comfortable silence. After twenty minutes however the King couldn't keep quiet any longer.

“Sooo, there's something I've been wanting to ask you…” he fumbled and the Queen raised an eyebrow. “Well, these past years I've learned a lot and I mostly know what to do. Yao’ve been a great help. And of course you have but… What exactly is it that you do? I know you work really hard, I just never understood with what…” he continued and looked uncertainly at the Queen who looked thoughtful.

“The Queen doesn't have a lot of duties. However, I still manage some of the King's responsibilities due to our circumstances.” He said after a minute and continued. “I manage education throughout the country, making sure all children get to learn how to write and read, I manage the economy, making sure we don't spend more money on infrastructure or repairs, than we can afford. Outside of this I have a network of people, spies if you like, keeping me informed on what's going on both in Spades and other countries…” Now he looked a bit uncertain, not knowing if he should continue or not. The King's curious face managed to get him to keep going. “There is however something very very few know about and that is what the most important duty of a Queen is…” He got a distant look in his eyes and looked away.

“And that is… what? the King tried but the Queen held up a hand.

“Quiet”

“Wha-”

“Shh. Someone is coming” The Queen stood up and the King followed.

“You sure?”

“Yes, they entered through the northeast passageway,” he said before hurrying toward the castle, addressing the men posted at either side of the balcony door. “Guards, be prepared, someone is coming. I can't tell much about the person but approximately 195 cm in height.” The King followed, listening to the the Queen’s words, his sword out of its scabbard, ready to fight. They got in position with the two guards at the front, then the King and at the back, the Queen.

They stood there waiting, one minute, two minutes, three minutes before they saw the intruder. They were covered in black armor from top to toe, making it near impossible to distinguish any fact that could help them in the battle. The only thing they knew was they were tall and looked really muscular in the suit. They walked confidently through the corridor and was soon in front of the four. For a moment everything was completely still and quiet, before hell broke out.

Two fast swings from the sword and the two guards’ troughs were cut making them fall to the ground in a pool of blood, their armors making a loud cacophonous sound as they hit the ground. Before the King could think, the black Knight was right next to him but the Queen had been faster and put up a shield. The King stabbed at the Night but only hitting air as they had already moved. The Queen started mumbling spell after spell, helping the King in his attacks by making his sword stronger and helped protect him in his defence. He tried to shoot attack magic at the Night but to no gain as it seemed his armor was protected from magical harm. So he continued helping the King, who seemed to be having the upper hand with the aegis of the Queen.

The Night quickly understood that he had to take out the Queen first. They changed their tactics and started moving in a circle around the King. To their dismay the Queen was smart and saw through it and moved along the circle too. The Queen did not have much energy left, all magic had its price and battle magic was the most expensive. The Night gave up on moving in a circle and sprinted head on toward the Queen, dodging the King's blade and pushing him to the side, ready to strike the Queen down. What they hadn't counted on was the King's strength. He might not look like it but he was the strongest in the cavalry and wasn’t as affected by the push as the Knight thought. Right before the blade was going to hit the Queen, he pushed the Knight in the back, making him stumble forward, resulting in only the sword's hilt hitting the Queen. The force was nevertheless powerful and it knocked the Queen unconscious.

When he came to again the King was on the ground, blood running from his head, using his sword as protection with one hand on the handle and the other on the blade. The Queen unsteadily got up, taking one of the dead Guards’ sword and ran forward. He had almost no strength left but he knew what he had had to do. He had to fight, fight until he won or died trying, there were no other options. He slashed at the Knight, not even making a scratch. It was pointless really, but he had to get their attention away from the King. He made a jab toward the Knight whom now had their focus on the Queen. Then he sidestepped, parried and lunged again.

Repeating again and again he kept the Knight's focus on him but he didn’t get anywhere. He had to, or he would soon get to the point where he wouldn't be able to even lift the sword. He had analysed the Knight’s armor and found that there was nowhere he could do any damage, the parts imbricated each other. Although there was one way… When he had given the King's blade extra power it had damaged the armor, so theoretically speaking he should be able to give his own blade extra power and cut through the armor to make a weak spot. On the other side that would most likely drain all his power. But he had no other choice. He took a deep breath and started chanting. A blue light swirled around the blade making the Queen's face look grim and cold. One last parry and with all he had, he thrust the sword right into the stomach of his opponent making them fall back on the ground, blood seeping out from around the blade that stood right up in the air. The Queen breathed out and would have collapsed on the ground if the King hadn't caught him.

“Th- thank you, I'm fine” the Queen said weakly and pushed off the King's hands, but as soon as he had done that, he gasped in pain and fell to the ground, clutching his stomach. The King watched as if in in slow motion as the Queen fell and fury exploded inside him as he saw the Knight on one knee, blood dripping from his sword. The King acted without thinking, anger controlling him. Without problem the King went past the black sword and pressed the blade the Queen had left further, making only the hilt visible. The knight fell back, dropped his sword and gave up, but the King wasn't done. He pulled out the sword , angled it a bit and pressed it back in, turning the blade making the Knight scream before going limp. Just to be sure the King stabbed the Knight a few more times before throwing away the sword and rushing back to his Queen.

The Queen was in a bad shape, almost all colour had drained from his face, and he was only able to take short breaths at a time. The King kneeled next to him, carefully picking him up in his arms and starting to walk into the castle.

“Hey, it's okay now, it's okay. Stay with me.” The Queen's eyes fixed on the King’s and a weak smile formed on his lips.

“This” he said, just above a whisper, loud enough for the King to hear, before he closed his eyes and went limp.

* * * * * * * * * * *

The country was in mixed state of mourning and chaos. Everyone wondered what had happened in the castle and rumours spread like wildfire. Alfred knew he had to do something, but what? The late Queen had told him, when he just became King, to trust his instincts, that he was born for the role of king and he would know what to do. Although now his instincts told him to crawl into a ball and hide as he cried, but he knew he couldn't do that, he had to take care of his people. But he was so scared. Scared of what could happen. He hadn't left Arthur’s side for the three days he'd been bedridden thus far and he would not leave him until Arthur himself forced him away, and he knew there was a slim chance that would happen and a bigger risk it wouldn’t.

The doctor visited twice a day to check on everything and change the bandages over Arthur's wounds. Everytime Alfred saw them he started to cry, he couldn't hold it in. It was his fault. His fault Arthur was lying there, pale as a ghost, fighting to stay alive. He had been so brave, to fight someone twice his size without hesitation. Fighting… that was what he had been practicing these past months when he disappeared. Alfred had of course known Arthur had lied when he said he was reading in the garden; he had looked for him there, and this was the explanation.

A soft exhale turned his focus back to reality and he turned to see a pair of half opened emerald green eyes. They skidded around, taking in where he was. A few blinks and another look around before they landed on Alfred. “Artie, you’re awake!!” he exclaimed and threw himself into a tight hug around Arthur’s shoulders, careful not to touch his wounds.

“It seems like I am” a small but surprised voice sounded.

Alfred couldn’t hold it in, he started crying and they just lay there, Alfred whispering `you’re alive` over and over through his sobs.

After a couple of minutes Arthur gently touched Alfred’s shoulder.

“Alfred, love, could you please get off, I’m having a hard time breathing.”

“Ah, of course, sorry!” He quickly removed himself from Arthur and Arthur drew tried to draw a deep breath but grimaced in pain.

“Ah, how is it? Do you need anything? Water? Pain reducing spell? Wat-”

“No it’s fine Alfred, don’t worry”

“Don’t worry?! You almost died! Why did you do that, just throwing yourself in front of there and the only thing you say is `this`, what do you even mean by that? What would I have done if you didn’t wake up? I can’t rule this country, I don’t even know what I do everyday!” He sounded terrified and tears started falling from his eyes again. Arthur carefully sat up, pain shooting through his whole body, telling him to lay back down, but he didn’t listen.

“Alfred” he said soft but harsh at the same time which caught the attention of the other. “What I mean with ‘this’ is that that is my most important duty, saving the King. The Queen is dispensable, the country can manage without one, but the King is vital. When my father died, my mother and I did everything we could to keep the country together. It did not work; none of the other countries took us seriously, no one wanted to continue trading with us among other things. We don’t have what a King have naturally, we can’t give the country what it needs. That is why I did what I did, to save you and the country, for rather I die than you.” To this Alfred was quiet for a minute, thinking.

“That is total bullshit, I could never… I could never make it without you.”

“Yes, you would. Maybe not alone but you would have had help from great people.” This didn’t seem to help Alfred, rather it seemed to make him feel worse so Arthur sighed and continued. “Well, there is no need to think about what could have happened, we'll just have to figure out a plan for the future where none of us die unless of old age.” To this Alfred raised his head with a thoughtful smile.

“That sounds like a good plan.”

#usuk #usuk fanfiction #cardverse #Axis Powers Hetalia #hetalia #APH England #APH America #aph china #fanfic #aph hetalia #kimyonaelioscreative #blood #cardverse hetalia

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