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⊹₊♕₊⊹
ᴍɪᴅ ᴀᴜᴛᴜᴍɴ, ᴋɪɴɢᴅᴏᴍ ᴏꜰ ʜɪᴢᴜʀᴜ
The Grand Hall was one of the royal family's most prized possessions. The crystal chandelier swaying on the ceiling accompanied with the exquisite paintings suspended on the golden trimmed walls. Each consisting members of the royal family.
The inevitable presence of the higher status would not be unforeseen, especially when receiving an invitation from the King himself.
Tonight, its walls hold drunken nobles chuckling hand in hand for it was the beloved Crown Princess' birthday. Without a shadow of a doubt, her status only made her victim to the greedy eyes of distasteful men willing to wed her - vultures describe them perfectly.
The redundant demeanour of these men - who dare to call themselves future kings - is merely a fundamental recipe for your rejection.
It is a rare sight these days to find a gentleman. But even so, your heart does not long for a man you only must marry for convenience. Deep in your wistful heart, you long for the gentle connection of true love. The subtle glances in a crowd full of people, where the rest of the room disappears. You long for the innocent laughter and intimacy not only shown by intercourse. Someone that can understand you without saying a word.
Your foolish, foolish dreams only fade when you realise that true love, in a world of power and corruption, is just that. A dream.
You let out a sigh you weren't aware you were holding, staring at the reflection with distant eyes and broken hopes. Your maids have finished touching you up, urging you to lighten up as it is your birthday.
Another opportunity to be pressured into getting married.
That's what the underlying purpose of this ball was. It had been disclosed as a birthday celebration, but you know your father's intentions all too well.
"Your Highness." A gentle voice cuts through your thoughts.
Everlasting loyal to your side, your knight wears a look of worry on her face. She must have noticed the distress. She has always been good at that, one of the many reasons you always get caught in a lie.
Your eyes meet her steel grey eyes with specks of oceans in them. You feel as though you could find yourself sinking deeper and deeper in her gaze, and you're not sure if you want to rise.
You realise she's been waiting for an answer. "Yes, Mikasa?"
The distant music of the ball echoes through the castle, like a faded mockery to your situation. If the opportunity was shown, you would much rather shy away from the celebration and sneak away to the gardens. It is rather impossible to do that when the ball is in your home and is for you.
"..You've been staring at yourself in the mirror for far too long. Do you find the view unsatisfactory, my lady?" She inquires.
You stiffen for a moment, clearly taken aback.
No, it was not that. For as long as your memory goes back, you've always been the princess women envied and the princess that men fell to their knees for your hand in marriage.
You did not want to be that princess.
Your heart ached a duty free life, where nobody cares whom you marry, what you want or the words that obscenity that slips out of your tongue.
To walk out on the streets - a rarity for the Princess - and seeing the joy littered on children's faces as they played, only made your chest constrict on what could have been.
"No, it's not that.." You mumble, hand fiddling with your silk gloves.
"Then if you do not mind me asking, what is bothering you?"
Your tongue always seems to loosen around Mikasa. The late nights where you could run away to the willow tree stationed on the hill, where time slowed and duty was at the back of you mind, she was also there. On duty, yes. But, the talks beneath that tree always gave you the comforting thought; you are not alone, and you never have been. Because Mikasa was by your side all along.
"Humour me, Mikasa," You glance at the open balcony of your bedroom where the cold air seeps in. "Have you ever thought of running away? Leaving all your duties behind for a new life?"
The air stills between you, the unanswered question hovering between you both.
"Run away?" She repeats cautiously. "You know you can not. You're the Crown Princess. The King's Heir."
Your heart pangs at her heavy reminder of your life. You think of the many people in the streets, who have to count their pennies every day, struggling to put food on the table. All while you lavishly eat to your heart's content.
Guilt surges through you. And yet, you can't help but wish you had been born a simple life as a civilian.
Your cage was a gilded one, but it was a cage nonetheless.
"No, you're right. It was a foolish question on my part." You excuse, rising up from your vanity.
Your dress sags heavily from its weight and your corset tightly sucks in your waist, dismissing any thoughts of wanting to breathe properly tonight.
As you side-step your knight to get to the door, you can feel her gaze burning at the back of your head. Clearly, your question would not just be forgotten so easily like that.
You wonder, in the dead of night where even the birds have retired to sleep, does Mikasa yearn for freedom as you do? Or, has she already found her life's purpose as the knight of the princess?
The way she protects you with her full heart, her devotion evident, plants doubt in your mind.
Of course she hasn't. And you have no right to rob that away from her.
The hallways at this time of evening are silent, save for your heels clicking against marble alongside Mikasa's boots. The music and boisterous laughter only grows stronger with every step.
With much struggle, you force the churning in your stomach to stop as you slowly come closer to the Grand Hall.
Behind the door, you can hear a muffled voice silence the crowd easily.
"Please welcome Her Royal Highness, the Crown Princess of Hizuru and the King's Heir for it is her that we dedicate this ball for on her birthday!" The booming voice announces.
As if on cue, the double doors in front of you expose the audience awaiting your arrival. The cacophony of applause and cheers are enough to overwhelm you, but a silent yet loyal presence by your side calms your nerves; Mikasa.
Ironic, how the Crown Princess is showered with love and attention and yet will shy away from it at every chance.
You wear your practiced smile, the one that doesn't truely reach your eyes as you walk through the crowd. The pathway takes you to your Father's side, who rests on his throne. Standing by your side is Mikasa.
She shoots you a reassuring glance and you return one of your own.
"Happy birthday, my daughter." Your Father says over the cheers, a smile worn mainly just for show.
"My gratitude for this ball could not be expressed well enough, Father. Thank you." You reply stiffly to the King, who simply nods once before rising to acknowledge the crowd full of nobles and your potential suitors.
The power he holds over the court immediately silences them with a single hand held in the air. Once satisfied, he speaks. "And now, let us truely enjoy this ball in honour of the Princess's birthday. Let us celebrate as she takes suitors to dance." He raises a cup of wine.
There we go. It didn't take long for him to mention it.
You aren't just his daughter in his eyes, no. You were a woman. No control over your own life as he eagerly introduces you to men who want to court you. The underlying threat is clear enough: If you do not choose a future husband soon enough, then I will take responsibility on picking.
It makes you sick.
Had it been up to you, the Kingdom of Hizuru would bare well without a King. Well, it doesn't really matter what you think, does it?
Another man vying for your heart comes up after the last dance. The heels are not doing your feet any justice.
"Your Highness, a pleasure to finally meet the lady of everyone's dreams." A smooth voice says, grasping and kissing your gloved hand. "And now, I see the stories do not exaggerate. Your beauty truely is beyond compare."
The owner of the smooth voice is a bearded blond with round glasses. He is none other than Zeke Jaeger. The Duke of Marley.
Wearing your signature smile, you curtsy. "You flatter me, Your Grace. The pleasure is all mine."
He holds out his hand, a polite request for a dance. "May I have this dance?"
The sweat clings onto your hand as you take your hand in his. Your dress sways against the marble floors when you rest a hand on his shoulder and the other one still clasped in his. His free hand rests on your waist, the contact enough to make you feel squeamish.
Your body follows his movements just as you trained all throughout your childhood classes of etiquette. The amount of dances you have done in one night goes beyond you. Your feet are definitely screaming in protest after every move.
While Zeke's eyes are trained on you, your gaze starts to linger in the crowded room.
That's when you feel it.
Her eyes.
Silent, and yet watchful.
Narrowed.
At you.
Mikasa's gaze is focused on the hand Zeke rests on your waist, narrowed with such viciousness that it wouldn't be a surprise had his hand burst to flames.
Then her irises meet yours. They soften instantly, gentle fondness replacing her initial glare.
The music fades in your ears; the buzz of conversations and laughter falling on deaf ears as you're pulled into her electrifying gaze.
Just you and her.
She stands where she stood previously, upon the balcony where she can dictate every individual movement from everybody. You move constantly on the dance floor, and yet your eyes never fail to meet hers.
A silent question lingers in her eyes. She doesn't have to say it for you to understand: "Are you okay?"
Zeke twirls you in a circle as the uplifting tempo accelerates. Surrounding you are many other duos who's movement synchronises to yours.
You attempt to meet Mikasa's gaze again to answer before the Duke's voice snaps you back to reality.
"You seem distant, Your Highness. Don't worry, I don't bite." He teases, a smirk playing on his face. "You should relax your shoulders, no?"
In contrast to his words, you only seem to stiffen even more.
He continues to sway alongside you before the harmony comes to an abrupt end, replacing it with a slower melody.
As the two of you part, his hand lingers on your waist a moment too long before you distance the space between you two. Reluctantly, Zeke bows respectfully albeit irked by your unwillingness. "Thank you for the opportunity, Princess. And, happy birthday of course."
You murmur a few words of gratitude and make a beeline to the double doors. It was only a matter of time before the vultures throw themselves at you with their preposterous attitude and over-gelled hair.
Eager to get at least some brief freedom from the stuffy ball room, you head to the place where you could allow yourself to escape from all the burdens you carry on your shoulders: The Royal Gardens. Or, to be more specific, the willow tree that gives the best view of the shining lake and which leaves hide you from the prying eyes of servants and people.
The crisp night air hit you full force - wind howling against your ears and the feeling of your hair flying across your face. The maid who had fretted over it not too long ago would faint at the mess its already become.
You've known this castle your entire life. You know the rotation of all the knights' position like the back of your hand.
Easily evading the watchful eye of the knights, you make your way to the willow tree. You cross numerous statues of former monarchs, forget-me-not flowers decorating majority of the bushes alongside a plethora of other flowers.
"This is too easy," You huff to yourself, the cold air illuminating your breath into smoke.
"Is it now?" A familiar voice sounds from behind you.
You spin on your heel immediately. Of course it was Mikasa. When did she follow you? You didn't even hear her footsteps. No matter how many years you've spent practicing the knights' rotation, Mikasa always seem to defy that by appearing by your side when you would least expect it.
Majority of the time she drags you back to your quarters as you whine and plead, unable to keep up with her strength. The other time, a rarity, is when she sighs heavily and gives in to your pouty face and doe eyes. Manipulative thing you were.
"Come on. You ought to return to the ball and- Oh, don't give me that look." Mikasa shakes her head.
You tilt your head innocently, a soft smile sneaking up your face. "Like what?"
In the shimmer of moonlight, you swore you could see her lips slightly curled upwards, although she'd never admit it when you'd expose her.
"You know what I mean."
"Enlighten me."
She sighs heavily, hands on her hips while glancing down at the forget-me-nots. She didn't have to ask why you were out here; she didn't have to. In the late of night, when it was just the two of you, you'd confess your objection to the traditional ways of a princess: Marry a stereotypical prince, bare his children and live the rest of your life in the shadows. All because you were born a woman.
"Willow tree?" You suggest, leaning back on your heels like a petulant child.
Mikasa finally meets your eyes, her brows raised as if to say "really?"
"You are truely going to get me in trouble one day, Your Highness." In contrast to her words, she deliberately trails behind as you run up the hill, grinning as you race ahead to the tree.
Your knees immediately feel like giving up as soon as you reach the top, panting with exhaustion. Running in a hefty gown is not for the weak. A few steps behind you runs Mikasa, who intentionally gave you the win; just to see that wide smile on your face.
To reflect your own smile, Mikasa wears one of her own. A rare, intimate sight that is just between the two of you.
"Dance with me?" You hold out your hand as she makes her way to you.
She lets out an exasperated sigh, but took your gloved hand anyway.
Unlike the dancing you did in the ball room, there was no music, no audience - Just the two of you.
You like it better this way. When Mikasa can finally be herself and not the stern knight.
She's a little stiff, considering her armour doesn't allow her to move freely. Nonetheless, you can not help but let out a few snickers here and there every time she messes up, the soft pink tinting her cheeks. Adorable, you think. You love when she's like that.
Wait, what?
When did you start thinking about things like that?
The thought diverts your attention from dancing, and your foot accidentally steps on Mikasa's. Instantaneously, the two of you have tripped over each other's feet. Your laughs are muffled from your face against the grass, too weak from laughter to rise.
From afar, you can hear Mikasa's laughter fade and turn into worried calls.
"Your Highness? Are you all right?"
Her footsteps patter closer to you, the metal of her armour clanking with every move.
She places a hand on your shoulder, shaking it gently.
"Are you-"
She lets out a surprised squeal as you turn around and grab her in a tight embrace, the two of you rolling down to the foot of the hill.
Mikasa's laughs are muffled against your head. Once your movements move to a halt, she slaps your shoulder playfully, a wide grin on her face.
"Oh, you scoundrel!"
Your voice is washed away by your laughs, enabling you breathless as you clutch your stomach.
"Is that.. any way.. to talk to your princess?" You tease after catching your breath, feeling her warm hands brush the hair that escaped your formerly flawless hair-do.
You crane your neck to look up at her. She's kneeling beside you with a gentle smile on her face, and Gods, you wish you could savour this moment forever.
You sit up beside her, back brushing against a bush. She's staring at you like there's nothing else in the world that matters, not even the leaves that scatter through her hair.
Instinctively, you bring your hands to the soft texture of her raven locks, brushing through them and removing all the leaves nesting in it.
"Clumsy." You remark.
"I wonder why." Her hands reach to ruffle your hair, "Hypocrite."
Her comment makes you roll your eyes. Your hands protest against her own, a futile attempt to fix your bird-nest of a hair.
Grazing your back are a bush of the familiar flowers: forget-me-nots. They remained one of your many favourite flowers. As a result, you had urged your late mother to plant some with you. It's a bittersweet memory. Forget-me-nots symbolise remembrance and enduring love, and sometimes it feels as though you have a part of your mother with you. In spirit.
Your hand brushes against one, pulling it from its root and turning back to Mikasa.
Gently, achingly gently, your hand moves to rest the bud on her ear. The vibrant azure colour contrasts her black hair, and yet matches perfectly against the colour of her irises.
Beautiful, you think.
"You really think so?"
Did I say that aloud?
"Yes."
You hadn't even realised your mouth was moving faster than your brain could stop it - but nonetheless, you ment every word.
"I truely do mean it, Mikasa." You murmur, finger caressing the scar that rests on her cheekbone, "Whether you see it or not, you're beautiful."
her cheeks flush into roses, and the sight truely tugs at your heartstrings.
Beautiful, you repeat. This time you're sure it's in your head.
She's beautiful.
Gods, why do you keep thinking about your knight like that?
⊹₊♕₊⊹
ᴇᴀʀʟʏ ᴡɪɴᴛᴇʀ, ᴋɪɴɢᴅᴏᴍ ᴏꜰ ʜɪᴢᴜʀᴜ
Of today, there are three things you know are to be true: One, the sun rises at dawn and sets at dusk. Two, forget-me-nots do not bloom during winter. And three, you are unconditionally and irrevocably in love with Mikasa Ackerman.
You aren't completely sure when this affection had blossomed for your devoted knight, but you can't find the courage in you to feel suppress these feelings.
The inevitable truth of your marriage to another had always been a factor to your life, and now it was imminent. Lurking as a cruel reminder on what you can never hope to achieve.
Life, as it seems, as a cruel way of things.
Mikasa would remain by your side, serving as your dutiful knight while you reigned as queen of another kingdom, silently pining on what has already been lost.
The overwhelming fear hits you abruptly and you think no, no you can not lose her. You forbade it.
Your voice, of course, would be ignored and pushed away into the deepest aches of your heart.
Two months had it been since your birthday celebration, and the lingering burden of having to choose a suitor rests heavily upon your shoulders.
Your fingers fiddle with the petals of a flower, your heart heavy with the constant presence of Mikasa. Usually, her appearance beside you would sooth your worries. But as of late, the affection you hold for her is doing nothing but harm.
Winter has seized all lasting warmth shed by autumn - the trees have been shed of their leaves and the ground has been enveloped with a white blanket of snow. The air has gotten more crisp, the frost from the snowflakes nipping at your face.
Your cheeks have blossomed in a pale pink colour from the frost, although your hands are protected by a thick, woollen pair of gloves.
You brush away the snow that has landed upon the flower, the pink pigment peeping through the powder. It's pretty.
You distinctly hear your knight's footsteps thud against the white layer of snow. She halts as she stands right beside you. Enough to view the yellow flower alongside you.
She remains characteristically quiet.
Your body stiffens from the cold, and as observant as Mikasa is, she wraps a warm scarf around your neck.
"Better?" She murmurs, hands grazing the crown of your head to wipe any fallen snowflakes.
You feel your heartbeat accelerate at her touch. This really isn't good for your heart.
It isn't like she hasn't touched you before. Her hands have met the small of your back while leading you through a crowd, or a squeeze on the shoulder to reassure you. This isn't anything new.
Yet, the butterflies in your stomach won't stop fluttering.
It's the way she's so, achingly so gentle with you that has your breath hitching. It's a complete oxymoron of the formidable warrior you've seen before.
It takes all your strength to remain your gaze on the flower. "Thank you, Mikasa."
She crouches beside you, armour clanking with every move.
"As much as I think that the flower is delightful, Your Highness, it would be much more suitable to admire them from afar, no? Preferably your bedroom window?" She soft launches the idea.
Your eyes pull away from the flora and meet her eyes. White snow has graced her raven locks, and her nose is slightly red from the cold.
"The snow will cover them, then. There wouldn't be anything to view."
Mikasa lets out a breathy sigh, making the air fog up. She's especially prone to your stubbornness.
"Why not go to the greenhouse? Surely that provides the flora more protection than outdoors." She suggests.
The flower you are currently inspecting is temporarily forgotten, the white quilt of snow covering over it once more. The rose colour has now been hidden, only specks of it visible if you really look at it.
"I want to be here, though. These are my favourite winter flowers." You argue back, and Mikasa brushes the snow off it. A brow is raised once the vibrant colours have been revealed. The petals overlap each other before revealing the bud in the middle.
She glances at you, an unsaid question in her eyes.
"Camellias." You inform, "They can bloom during the winter. Over there-" you point at a set of identical camellias coloured red, "Those red camellias symbolise deep love and passion, while pink ones - like these ones right here - can symbolise longing and admiration.
"They're one of my favourites. They strive during even the harshest of winters, even as the snow pelts upon them relentlessly, they remain blooming. I think.. it fits how I feel very well." You mumble the last sentence much too quietly.
Mikasa remains silent for a moment, and you think you've ranted too much about the flowers. But once you look into her eyes, she stares with such gentleness you physically have to look away.
"Why do you believe camellias fit you, Your Highness?" She murmurs.
Of course she heard your mumblings. She has the eyes of a hawk and the ears of a bat - nothing could get past her.
Your gloved fingers trace aimlessly in the snow, creating patterns that reveal the green of the grass beneath you. The other hand grips your newly acquired scarf.
"I.. They're strong, you know? Maybe not physically.. But even when the snow tries to cover them and bury their feelin- colours, you can still see the hues of pink beneath. I don't know.. I'm just saying random stuff."
You inhale deeply after your rant, not daring to look her in the eyes. Instead, you focus on the foggy air as you exhale.
Pink camellias symbolise longing and admiration.
If only Mikasa was aware on how much you secretly pined for her, how her devotion was not unrequited. You too wanted to show a way of caring for her as she does in protecting you. You admired how she put you over her own needs. You wanted to make her feel special, too.
"That's not all there is to it, is there?" Sharp girl, Mikasa was.
Instead of answering her skeptical gaze, you shuffle to another bush of flowers. The colour of these camellias were much more a vibrant red, they more visible through the snow. Mikasa follows closely behind, her question unanswered.
With a surge of confidence, you brush the snow off one of the flowers before plucking it from its bundle.
You twist to face your knight, who is totally confused on what you are doing.
Your heart beats out of your chest as you hand her the camellia.
Did you always get this nervous around her? Your heart surely wasn't beating this rapidly when you put that forget-me-not flower in her hair.
"For you." You mumble as she takes it.
"A red camellia, am I correct?" She inquires, you answer in the form of a nod.
If it was the cold that made her blush, or your quiet confession, you weren't sure. It definitely didn't help that she kept her face devoid of emotion.
"But.. you said that these mean.. deep love and passion." She replies, her calm facade breaking as she hides her face from you. Yes, you could definitely see her getting more red. "Do you mean.."
A soft smile breaks from your initial nervousness - Mikasa looked so out of her element that it had rendered her speechless. Still, you didn't want to overwhelm her with forcing her to reciprocate your feelings. (Although you think you might curl up and die from embarrassment.)
"That was intentional." You let out a breathy laugh although nothing is funny with the way your heart is nearing a heart attack from how nervous you are. "I've never felt anything like this for any man. For anybody, in truth. And yet, you seem to defy that."
"Every night, since my birthday, I lay in bed awake and pondered this question so deeply; Mikasa, what am I to you?"
Your confession seems to have rendered Mikasa useless because her jaw is slightly agape and her eyes have widened in shock.
You glance down at her collar, where the small forget-me-not you gave to her is pinned on.
"You- You're my.." She hesitates, and you interject silent by resting a gentle hand over her calloused one.
A gentle, reassuring smile is on your face. "You mustn't feel pressured to reciprocate my feelings, Mikasa. I will respect your decision no matter what."
The wind whistles relentlessly, blowing Mikasa's hair over her face. Some snow rests on her, and you take the initiative to tuck her hair behind her ears, brushing off the white powder.
Your hand hesitates, but rests over her cheekbone: right where the scar rests. Your brain can't help but think her silence is rejection. Maybe she doesn't even like girls that way. But, she's not backing away from your touch. That must be good, right?
"It's not that.." She mumbles over the howling wind. Her reassurance makes the pounding in your heart relax.
She feels the same way about me, she feels the same way about me!
The mantra is repeating in your mind and you physically have to force back a smile. There's something else Mikasa has to say, and by the worried look on her face, your stomach ties up in knots again.
Once she gains enough confidence to finish her sentence, she makes eye contact with you. "It isn't that I do not return these feelings myself, princess. It is just that.. you're too good for me. My soul is tainted by war and my hands are covered with the blood of many, I couldn't bring myself to taint your innocence like that."
Your heartstrings tug at her words; so defeated, like she's accepted that nobody could love the war stricken heart.
She has no idea that she's so much more than that. More than just your knight. She's the girl who secretly pets the street cats when she thinks nobody is looking. She's the girl who puts everybody else's needs upon her own. She's the girl who stole your heart. That's who Mikasa truely is. Not some merciless war goddess everybody else perceives her as.
"I don't care about any of that."
"Princess-" She sighs, shaking her head. "It is forbidden nonetheless. Your Father - The King - will have my head if we do anything of the sorts."
Now it is your turn to stubbornly shake your head. "I don't care. I don't care about what shit my Father has to say. I know what I want and it's you. Please, let me shoulder that burden with you. They're my burdens too."
Mikasa's eyes grow the size of dinner plates and you aren't certain if it's due to the fact that you have swore - much to your etiquette teacher's chagrin - , or if it's because of your desperate confession.
"I will taint your innocence. I cannot be the object of your affection. I will be your ruin!-"
Your hand caresses her cheekbones. "Then ruin me. Be my undoing if you will. Just be mine."
⊹₊♕₊⊹
ᴍɪᴅ ᴡɪɴᴛᴇʀ, ᴋɪɴɢᴅᴏᴍ ᴏꜰ ʜɪᴢᴜʀᴜ
You ought to learn that pleasant things do not last forever.
The sweet confession you gave to Mikasa had evolved into something more; gentle touches when nobody is looking, sneaking her inside your quarters late at night, watching the moonlit sky painted with stars as the two of you talk about everything and anything.
Your relationship was kept a secret, of course. Something as scandalous as the princess and her knight being in a relationship would be shamed.
As a result, in public the two of you were princess and her devoted knight - nothing more than that. But, in private you were star crossed lovers who desperately held onto each other like it were the end of the world.
Months since your birthday, your Father has been urging you to find a suitor. You couldn't bring yourself to find one as your heart already belongs to another and no other heart could fill the gap as Mikasa does.
Your fingers tightly grasp at your fork, aimlessly pushing around your food. You haven't much of an appetite tonight.
The dining hall is quiet tonight, with the exception of maids shuffling around and the movement of cutlery. Even without the use of words, you can feel the tension rising in the room - it's heavy enough that it could cut through air.
Mikasa stands at the side of the entrance, eyes locked onto yours. The forget-me-not you gave her rests tucked in on her brooch.
Your breathing is gentle, as if awaiting the storm brewing at the head of the table.
Residing there is the King, who's jaw is so tightly clenched that you wouldn't be surprised if he bit his tongue.
"Have you settled for a potential suitor yet, my dear?" His words are straightforward, no room to divert the conversation.
The food you have eaten threatens to rise up your throat at his question, but you manage to muster a reply. "They certainly were all pleasant, Father. But no, none have been able to catch my eye." Except for my right-hand woman.
A deep sigh escapes him and you prepare for the poisonous words he is about to say.
"The Duke of Marley, Zeke Jaeger was not all inadequate. In fact, I believe a union with them will strengthen our Kingdom. You two did meet, yes?"
Memories of a blond, bearded man comes to mind and you have to physically stop yourself from cringing. Something about the way the Duke had looked at you just irked you in a way.
"Yes, we met briefly. Why?"
You finally dare to meet the King's gaze. He's swirling wine in his glass but not taking any sips. His gaze is locked onto yours, observing your reactions.
"I believe a marriage with him would do us good. Considering your reluctance, I will make the choice for you. You will marry Zeke Jaeger. I have already discussed this with the ruler of Marley." His voice is assertive, already decided.
"What?" You let out a faint gasp, the fork you once gripped clinking against the plate. "You- You cannot possibly!-"
"I cannot?" He raises a brow. "Oh, I absolutely can. I am the King, after all."
"Father, I barely met the man! You cannot expect me to marry somebody like him-"
He raises a hand, silencing you. "My word is final. Now, sit down."
You had not even been aware that you had risen from your seat, nails clawing at the wooden table. In contrast to his command, you remain standing - a small, subtle act of defiance.
"I won't." You seethed through clenched teeth. Your attempts were futile in the end. Once the King had set his mind on something, nothing could budge him. Stubborn man he was, but you could play that game, too.
He exhales through his nose. "You will wed Zeke Jaeger."
"You can not make me! I demand to have a say in this matter!" Your words fall on deaf ears as the King rises from his own seat, voice booming.
"I am your King, and I am commanding you to obey!"
Your nails stab at your palms. "You are my father before you are King!"
"You will wed Zeke Jaeger!" He reiterated it once again, your fate finally sinking in.
Tears threaten to pour down your eyes, but you push them down forcefully. No. You would not allow him to see you vulnerable.
Stubbornly slamming the table, you twist your body towards the exit. He doesn't try to stop you because he knows there is nothing you can do about it.
You'll be dammed to let him get his way.
Your heels click against the ground as you stomp to your room. Alongside you is the sounds of Mikasa's heavy boots. You don't dare to glance her way. You don't think you can. Your neck feels like its suffocating, tightened with pain as all you desperately want to do is cry, cry, cry.
Mikasa doesn't utter a word until you reach your bedroom. You immediately dart for an unsuspecting vase, needing something to relieve your frustration.
An unyielding grip on your wrist stops you from shattering the object.
"Don't."
One simple command.
She gently lowers your hand to place it back on the night table. You finally build up the courage to look up at her.
As she meets your tear-filled eyes, it's like something inside her had been broken apart too.
Without hesitation, you squeeze her into embrace. Her cold, metal armour against your hands as you sob into the crook of her neck. Being in her arms was always warm, it made you feel safe like nothing in the world could get to you as long as she stood by your side.
"It's not fair." You sniffled, gasping for air. "It's not fair at all. Why must I only be seen as somebody who will bear children for a man and not seen for being me?"
Mikasa's voice is hushed, consoling your sobs with gentle traces alongside your scalp.
You can't see her face from this view, but you feel the frown as she places a gentle kiss upon the crown of your head. "You are much more than that."
The dimly lit bedroom, save for the moonlight from the balcony, echoes your inconsolable sobs like a cruel reminder of your future. You claw at Mikasa, grabbing at anything you can. If it hurts her, she doesn't seem to mind.
You press your ear against her chest, the armour separating you, but you can distinctively hear her rapid heartbeat.
"Didn't.. you hear him?" You snivelled, meeting her eyes with your own teary ones. "I have to get married. And it's not to you. I don't want to, Mika. I can't, I don't.."
You cut yourself off, shaking your head.
Mikasa's heart seems to accelerate, but she remains silent once more. Instead, she allows you to let every burden you have been bottling up out.
You pull back from her momentarily. The whole world seems to be spinning. You're lightheaded from the amount of crying you did and yet you still feel like you could cry an entire river.
Taking a few steps forward, Mikasa grabs your chin gently to make you glance up at her. Her own eyes are full of so much pain and sadness that it makes your heart ache.
"I won't let you go. We'll find a way, together. Because your burdens are my burdens as well. Remember that?" She states, her eyes full of determination. You let out a weak laugh as she parrots your words that you said to her when you confessed.
Her hand hesitantly meets the tiara resting on your head. It's a rarity that you wear it in general, but your Father had requested you to wear it. You simply nod and she takes it off, resting it on the side table.
The relief is both physical and mental; physically, the tiara wasn't clawing at your scalp anymore. And mentally, the weight of having to be a princess and living up to everyone's standards seem to leave once removed.
Occasionally, in the dead of night where every one has resided to bed, you dream of a place far away from the castle. Somewhere nobody calls you by a formality, and a life where you aren't burdened by duty.
And then, in the morning, you are cruelly reminded that it is all just a dream.
"We should run away." You mumble, the words slipping out of your mouth.
Mikasa stays quiet, and doubt starts to fill in your mind. She prided herself on her duty as a knight, you knew that. It reminds you of the conversation on the evening of your birthday where you asked if the thought had ever bubbled in her mind.
"Run away?" She had answered. "You know you can not. You're the Crown Princess. The King's Heir."
She had answered on behalf for you. But she truely answered the question if she had such thoughts of running away.
"Are you sure?" She murmurs gently, wiping a stray tear down your cheek. "If it is truely your wish, than you should know that I will follow you anywhere. But, it is considered treason. Do you really want to take that risk?
You glance up at her, partly surprised. She was willing to run away with you, leave everything she had built her life upon away. Just for you.
The only reason she was hesitating was because she wanted to know if it was what you truely wanted.
"Yes." You muster a smile through the tears. "I've never wanted anything more."
Mikasa manages the corners of her mouth to curl up herself. "More than me?" she teases, a rare sight.
"No," you roll your eyes. "Not more than you."
You look up at her and her eyes are full of so much adoration and love for you that you don't have to think twice. You know this is what you want.
"You'll be stuck with me." Mikasa warns.
You lean up, lips pressing against her own. The kiss is short lived, but you don't think you could ever get enough of her.
"More like you'll be stuck with me." You can't help but grin like a cheshire cat.
Her lips are slightly stained by your lipgloss which only makes the sight more endearing.
"Somehow, I think I'll be all right with that."
⊹₊♕₊⊹
ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ, ᴋɪɴɢᴅᴏᴍ ᴏꜰ ʜɪᴢᴜʀᴜ
The next morning, the maids are greeted with the sight of an empty bedroom and an open window.
The castle is frantic with the frightening realisation that Her Highness and their best knight are no where to be found.
⊹₊♕₊⊹
ʟᴀᴛᴇ sᴘʀɪɴɢ, sᴏᴍᴇᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ꜰᴀʀ, ꜰᴀʀ ᴀᴡᴀʏ
In a forest at the countryside, where the castle is only a shadow seen in the distance, rests a small cabin. Flowers bloom all around, primroses along the pathway, a colourful plethora of tulips scattered amongst numerous bushes and forget-me-nots on the window sill of the house. A small, growing willow tree rests beside the house.
The morning sun escapes from its brief prison, radiating through the thin curtains and shamelessly stirring the embraced lovers awake. The orange rays illuminate the bedroom, only making it even more desirable to sleep in.
The raven is aroused out of her slumber first, sighing blissfully at the familiar heavy weight on her chest.
For the first time, it isn't the heavy weight of grief or regret, but her lover who is savouring her warmth.
Mikasa shuffles slightly, making you whine at the lost of heat. She gazes down at you with adoration, how your eyebrows scrunch up when she moved and the way you move closer to her.
How was she so damn lucky?
You seem to feel her gaze on you because your eyes flutter open and land on her.
You let out a tired grin and pull her closer towards you. "What are you doing so far away?.. It's cold." You mumble half heartedly, almost about to fall asleep once more.
Mikasa doesn't resist. In fact, she welcomes your embrace with open arms. She snuggles up against the crook of your neck while you rest your chin on her head.
Had she never left the Kingdom, Mikasa would probably be awake right now, training and continuing to be your knight. Despite how much she dedicated her heart to that job, she was much happier here.
With you.
She still can't believe it sometimes. She almost catches herself calling you by your title and not your name.
"It's almost summer, how could you be cold?" She teases, but nonetheless clings tighter to you.
You grumble something incoherent, something mixed with a complaint and a yawn. Mikasa lets out a soft chuckle.
The lovers remain intertwined before two very welcome intruders interrupt their sleep. A deep mewl could be heard from one of the cats as they loaf on the edge of the bed.
You gasp happily, sitting up immediately - which earns a grumble from Mikasa - and coddle the two cats with affection.
Mikasa groans, tugging you by the waist as if to coax you back to bed, with her and not the cats.
"You're completely ignoring me now. Wow." She drawls sarcastically, a pout painting her face as you spoil them with kisses. That should be her.
Nonetheless, she can't help but smile at the sweet sight in front of her; her lover in their cabin that they built living the life they truely deserved.
The onyx cat - almost looking like a void - meows in annoyment at your relentless affection. The two of you had found the stray in an alleyway absolutely feral. He had a scar running through his right eye and bit every chance he could. Even Mikasa, the cat lover she is, said to leave him. But you, darling you, had looked at her with those pleading eyes and how could she say no?
You had allowed Mikasa to name him, which made her give her all on bestowing the best name she could for this feline. In the end, they ended with Levi.
They had also found a white cat with the bluest of eyes alongside Levi. Unlike him, this cat was quite calm and even affectionate. Levi seemed quite protective over him, so how could they say no to another addition to the family?
You had named this one, giving him the name Erwin. ('Erwin? What kind of name is that?' Mikasa had grumbled)
In due time, the two of them had warmed up quite soon seeing as you provide them with free food and shelter.
Mikasa calls out your name again, which makes you look at her with a wide grin. You still had to get used to the sound of your name on her tongue.
"Jealous of a few cats, my sweet?" You grin teasingly, wrapping an arm around her neck.
She rolls her eyes yet clearly satisfied as you make it back in her arms. "Should I be?"
Your nose nudges hers, lips meeting in a brief kiss before pecking her cheek, forehead and then the tip of her nose.
"No," you answer, "I think they mean no threat." You glance down to the edge of your bed where Erwin licks Levi clean while the black cat meows in annoyance. Ironically, he's making no movement to escape.
To mimic Erwin’s actions, you pecker kisses all over Mikasa’s face as she lets out a breathy laugh. “You’re purposely avoiding my lips.” She pouts adorably.
”Morning breath,” you tease.
She brings you into a kiss, anyway. “You had no problem before, hm? You’re contradicting yourself.”
You deepen the kiss, wanting to memorise the taste of her against you. You never want to forget this moment.
When you part, the two of you merely stare at each other lovingly.
“I love you, Mika.”
Mikasa’s eyes widen. Even after months of escaping and running away, she can’t get used to this reality.
Nonetheless, she smiles gently and kisses you again.
”I love you even more.”
In the hidden cabin far, far away from duty, there was kissing, cats and even more kissing.