Master and Apprentice || Sung Jin-woo (Part 1 of 3)
Siren!Jin-woo x Deaf!Omega!reader
A/N - Hello everyone! This fic was inspired by the lovely @forbidden-sunlight's siren!au. We both collaborated on this piece and it serves as a direct sequel to her imagine, so do be sure to check it out first! This story picks up right where her imagine left off.
â°â⤠Chapter Index
𪸠Prequel by @forbidden-sunlight
đ Part 2: Two Intertwining Melodies
đŚPart 3: In a Sea of Fire
Content warnings: 18+ MDNI, mythical creatures au, canon divergent, a/b/o dynamics, afab!reader, suggestive themes, obsessive thoughts, slightly ooc Jin-woo (he's very reverent towards Ashborn), mentions of violence, death, and despair, forbidden romance (humans and sirens are natural enemies), eventual yandere!Jin-woo.
Word Count - 3.6k
Summary - Sung Jin-woo seeks answers about his potential mate from Ashborn in the deepest depths of the abyss.
Dividers by @anitalenia and @firefly-graphics
After what feels like an eternity, Jin-woo comes to an abrupt stop. He wasnât tired in the slightest, but he couldnât finish this journey unless he was in the right frame of mind. If he was going to face the sea monarch, Ashborn, then he needed to compose himself. He was his mentorâs prized disciple, after all.
Resolute in his decision, Jin-woo pinches his brow, shuts his eyes, and releases a deep, suffering sigh. He had to stop ruminating over the useless âwhat ifsâ of his current situation and focus on the matter at hand. You emitting pheromones in his presence was proof enough that you were a compatible mate, but this would be meaningless if you were unreceptive to him. It also begs the question, was humanity even capable of consorting with sirens? In search of an answer, he reminisces about the tales of old passed down by generations of his kin, as well as the many speculations made by humans.
No one knew the exact origins of his species. Most humans assumed the progenitors were Persephoneâs handmaidens, punished by Demeter after Hades had taken her daughter to the underworld and forced her into becoming his queen. Some stories also claimed that seafoam  birthed them, but Jin-woo scoffed at this particularly ridiculous rumor. A scholar had recently published an article on how sirens may actually be the offspring of the river deity Achelous and a divine songstress, citing notations from various mythos on this theory. In truth, reality was far simpler than any of these far-fetched narratives.
There was just no definitive explanation for the existence of sirens. They were not interchangeable with the peaceful denizens of the ocean, known as mermaids and mermen. While all fell under the umbrella of the term âmerfolk,â the sirens had a far more hostile and bloodstained relationship with humans.
Since time immemorial, his brethren were viewed as nothing but a scourge upon this world of humanity. Beautiful as a raging typhoon and every bit as devastating, the sirens served as harbingers of doom and destruction for those foolish enough to risk the perilous waters. Their heavenly voices were tantamount to the funeral dirges used to usher the dead into the afterlife. It would be understandable to believe that the sirens were the monsters in this baleful story. However, human nature at its core is fraught with wickedness, and men soon grew wise to the machinations of merfolk.
Odysseus was the first to survive an encounter with sirens. During his voyage to Ithaca, the cunning man had instructed his crew to plug their ears with beeswax, effectively blocking the intoxicating songs that had ended the lives of so many before them. Emboldened by the success of Odysseusâs scheme, other sailors began using this method to conquer the sea and establish trade routes. Within a matter of a couple hundred years, humans not only overcame their fear of sirens, but they also poached them. Huntsmen would capture, torture, and kill Jin-wooâs ancestors simply for crossing paths with them. Worse yet, these scoundrels would often murder merfolk solely to harvest their organs, bones, and scales. They would then use the defiled corpses as ingredients for commodities, medication, and even aphrodisiacs. It was truly grotesque, if not outright barbaric, and more than justified the ire his kind felt towards humanity. While they hunted for the noble sake of survival, men did it for bloodsport and money.
The horrific fates suffered by many of their beloved brothers and sisters particularly infuriated the alphas, with their robust constitutions and natural sense of leadership. With a thirst for vengeance, they began targeting and attacking ships, ports, and even beaches. The alphas considered any place or vehicle that harbored humans as eligible targets. The less temperamental betas remained neutral and avoided the bloodshed, opting to prey upon shoals of fish and other maritime animals instead. Omegas could not join in the hunt, as they were far too precious to lose. They were the most cherished and talented singers amongst the sirens and required around-the-clock protection because of their significant rarity. These were the origins of the current hierarchical structure Jin-woo adhered to.
After recalling the tumultuous history of his people in its entirety, Jin-woo clenches his fists until his knuckles turn white. This was so damn frustrating! Rather than granting him an understanding of his attraction, it just proved all the more why it was so illogical.Â
Defeated, Jin-woo raises his head, opens his eyes, and continues to swim.
Another hour passes before he finds himself at the ingress of Ashbornâs lair. His enigmatic teacher lived in almost complete obscurity. Devoid of any light, and enveloped by a suffocating aura, this nautical cavern intimidated all who dared to approach it. Well, almost all that is apart from Jin-woo. He effortlessly permeates the invisible barrier designed to keep intruders at bay and ventures into his masterâs spiritual domain.
Despite being an ancient and powerful king of the sea, Ashborn made the strange decision to emulate a land-like environment in his personal chambers.
As Jin-woo manifests into the realm, his appearance gives way to a form more befitting of a land dweller. His tail separates into two legs, his scales smoothen into skin, and he loses the winged fins on his ears and back. Once finished with this metamorphosis, Jin-woo takes a deep breath. Fresh pine, grass, and flowers perfume the air as heâs greeted by a lush valley. It had been a while since he had visited, and the setting had required him to transform into a human. Interestingly, transfiguration was one of the first skills Ashborn taught him. Speaking of his mentor â
âMy disciple, it is good to see you again, though you appearâŚtroubled. Tell me, what ails you so?â A rumbling voice rings across the horizon, signaling Ashbornâs approach; the tenebrous essence of the powerful deity contrasting with the greenery of the land. He appears in front of Jin-woo as a great dark knight. Much like his surroundings, Ashbornâs current visage was nothing but an illusion. Even the bravest of warriors said that his lifelike image invoked sheer terror in their hearts.
Many speculate he possesses a massive stature, at least several leagues in height and breadth alone, with piercing eyes and endless tendrils of dark hair. Others claim he is the son of Poseidon, one of the twelve Olympians, and a God of destruction who presided over the sea. However, Jin-woo never once witnessed this side of his teacher in all the years heâs been under his mentorship. Ashborn certainly exuded dignity, but he still displayed a humble attitude. And without fail, he would always appear in that strange, armored suit whenever he was in Jin-wooâs presence.
âMy teacher, I must ask for your help on an urgent matter,â Jin-woo starts, anxiously running his tongue across his bottom lip. âThis morning, while I was scavenging, I stumbled across the unmistakable aroma of an unmarked omega. ItâŚit was unlike anything I had ever experienced before. As if I was being beckoned by someone or something. I wanted, no, I needed to heed its call.â
Ashborn listens in silence, his expression indiscernible. Jin-woo continued.
 âWhen I arrived, I was in front of a monstrosity of a ship â a yacht right by the sandbanks. At first, I assumed that someone had taken an unfortunate siren captive. But when I finally saw herââ
âYou recognized she was human. Not only that, but she belongs to the lowest level of the hierarchy, an omega. Speak if I am wrong, my dear pupil.â Jin-woo lowers his head in shame, fringe obscuring his eyes. This action all but confirms it.
âI donât know what to do or how to proceed, teacher. Everything Iâve learned about these creatures has made me detest them. But I canât bring myself to hate her. How could this even be possible? We are not even of the same species. Sheâs my enemy, my preyâŚ. At least, sheâs supposed to be.â His voice lowers into a near whisper as he ends his confused rambling.
âAnd yet you donât view her that way, do you child?â Ashborn poses a question he already knows the answer to but needs to hear in his pupilâs own words.
âNo, I donât,â Jin-woo replies grimly. âI yearn to know more about her. And not just that. I want to meet her, court her, and make her mine. If sheâll even have me, that is⌠So please, teacher, tell me if there is any meaning behind what I feel. Am I destined for something that bears no place in reality?â
Ashborn remains uncharacteristically quiet while faced with such a loaded question. All is eerily silent for a few moments, save for the cheerful chirping of the illusionary songbirds. At last, the monarch gazes at Jin-woo and gives him the answer he so desperately desires.
âIt is entirely possible Sung Jin-woo, alpha of Jindo island, for I am proof of such a fantastical circumstance. My first and only love was also a human omega. A woman I devoted my entire being to over a millennium ago.â
Jin-wooâs eyes widened in shock at this revelation. His mentor had fallen in love at some point, and it was with a member of the human race? This was unheard of.
âI never knew you had a lover,â Jin-woo murmurs softly. âWhat was she like? Do you still remember everything about her after so many years?â
âLet me show you, my disciple. It is a tragic tale that words alone cannot properly convey.â With a wave of Ashbornâs hand, their surroundings began to morph and alter. The valley transforms into a spacious, yet quaint medieval village composed of several wooden houses with a bustling marketplace at its center.
When Jin-woo regains his bearings, he notices his mentor has also metamorphosized. A man with a sun kissed complexion, long dark hair, and a beard stands where he once stood. Though visibly unrecognizable, he was unmistakably Ashborn. A crimson cape was clasped to the pristine silver armor he wore. A paladin. Jin-woo recalls. He had some knowledge of the past lives of men through his rare excursions onto the Mainland. While disguised as a human, Jin-woo once traded in his goods for a textbook on history. He was loath to admit just how intriguing he had found it.
Ashborn speaks, his voice no longer resonating within the confines of shadowy steel.
âIt was here in this village that I came across her. She was the only daughter of a peasant farmer. A strong-willed, rapscallion of a woman with a wit sharper than any blade. I can remember her beauty, her warmth, and her tenacity as clear and concise as the day we met.â He says with a wistful gaze. The scene then shifts to a woman in a pure white gown. Her eyes remained hidden, but it did nothing to impede upon her loveliness. The woman runs animatedly towards a man who looks identical to Ashbornâs borrowed likeness and leaps into his arms. The man then effortlessly spins her around before bringing her into a kiss. Jin-woo watches on, mesmerized by what was unfolding in front of him.
âI feared her rejection once she knew the truth of my identity,â Ashborn admits. âOn the night we first made love, I finally revealed to her my status as ruler of the sea. However, it did not matter. She loved me wholly and unconditionally, regardless of who or what I was. Such was the strength of her resolve.â In the next instance, they return to the same valley from earlier. What differs this time is that the man and woman are there, unacknowledging of Jin-woo and Ashbornâs presence. Lost in their own special world. The woman has a flower crown on her head, and she sits on the grass, holding the manâs head in her lap. Both appear happy and at ease.
âFor the first time in my existence, I experienced true contentment. I long to return to those days, but alas, our bliss did not last.â
Ashborn solemnly shuts his eyes as darkness overtakes the sky and rain falls. The man is now shown standing at a grave with an expression of anguish marring his face. The woman is nowhere to be seen, although Jin-woo knows exactly where sheâs at.
âA plague was scourging the land and indiscriminately ending the lives of thousands. I tried to protect her with my magic, but it was to no avail. She fell gravely ill despite my best efforts. I discovered shortly thereafter that omegas were more susceptible to sickness than their contemporaries. If I had known beforehand, I wouldâve brought her to the sea with me, away from that damned disease. But I was a fool who was willing to love and live with her as a man, not as a king. And as punishment for my hubris, an ailment snuffed out her life.â
At the end of his recollection, Ashbornâs lair returns to its original state. His mentor had also regained his shadowy exterior. The valley appears completely untouched by time, as if it were still one thousand years in the past. Thatâs why his lair looks like this. Jin-woo thinks as he finally recognizes its significance, It was their personal sanctuary. After a few moments of silence, Ashborn speaks.
âAlthough our circumstances are similar, you still have the privilege of choice. I cannot turn back time, nor can I change the past, but I am grateful. I experienced unspeakable grief, yes, but I also would have never encountered such love, tenderness, and passion had I not taken a chance on my omega. You, my disciple, still have free rein over your decision. Should you choose to pursue this woman, you have my blessing and irrefutable proof that she is a viable mate for you. If not, you will still receive my unwavering support in your future endeavors. The choice is yours to make.â
Jin-wooâs throat bobs. He feels an incredible sense of guilt at unearthing his masterâs secret.
âMy teacher, I apologize for prying into your past. I â I did not mean to bring up painful memories for you. I cannot imagine what you have endured. As of right now, I am not sure what it is I want, but I know for a fact I cannot give up on this human. I will need some time to contemplate and sort out my feelings. If you will excuse me.â
Jin-woo bows his head before turning to take his leave. As he approaches the exit, a sudden thought emerges at the forefront of his mind.
âTeacher, there is one more question I must ask. This human, she does not speak with words. She communicates with her hands and gestures. Is this some type of sorcery or spell that sheâs casting?â
âIt is most likely sign language, a manner of non-verbal communication used by humans who are unable to vocalize or hear. Perhaps she cannot speak, or has a hearing impairment, so she must express herself through other means.â Ashborn answers, curiosity lacing his voice.
Jin-woo feels his heart sinking. A sirenâs serenade played a pivotal role in the mating ritual and was performed just prior to consummating an eternal bond. If what Ashborn said is true, then there is a possibility you could be immune to his song. This meant he wouldn't be able to use it on you when the time cameâŚ
He grits his teeth as he remembers your smiling face. Try as he might, Jin-woo just could not get you out of his head, nor was he willing to let you escape his grasp. You may not have realized it yet, but you had unknowingly sunk your fangs into him and the seeds of obsession were already beginning to take root. Rather than being discouraged by Ashbornâs observation, he instead finds himself reinvigorated.
âTeacher, disregard everything I said earlier. I now know what it is I must do.â
Ashborn peers into the eyes of his disciple, relieved by the determination that lights them. This was much more like the obstinate young man he knew.
âI choose to seek this omega and stake my claim, no matter what challenges may await the two of us,â Jin-woo proclaims proudly. âI will make her mine, but only if she consents to my proposal. And if not through song, then through other courtship methods. I am strong, stronger than any other alpha in my territory, and I know I can protect her from all who would wish her harm. I wonât let my mate slip through my fingers.â
âBut what of maladies and the passage of time? You can fight against gods and monsters until the end of your days, but sickness or her ephemeral lifespan will not spare this young woman. In the end, your time with her shall be fleeting.â Ashborn ruthlessly counters Jin-wooâs declaration of protection.
Jin-woo bites his lip, not expecting this development. However, before he can muster a response, his mentor graces him with an answer.
âI know of one way you can overcome this. There is a recipe for an elixir known as the Holy Water of Life. It is a miraculous potion that can imbue invulnerability to communicable diseases, extend lifespan, and transform the consumer into a siren. I unfortunately did not have knowledge of such a panacea while I was with my love. Of course, I live with the regret of not discovering it sooner, as now I have no such use for it, but this does not mean I will idly stand by and let history repeat itself with my protĂŠgĂŠ.â
With a flash of light, an ancient scroll appears in front of Jin-woo. It unravels by itself to reveal its contents to him. Jin-wooâs eyes widen as he reads. Is thisâŚ?
âBehold. The ingredients for crafting the Holy Water of Life. I bequeath this boon unto you, my disciple. However, heed my warning as the acquisition of these components requires you to conquer all 100 floors of the Demonâs Castle and to defeat its king, Baran. This is a treacherous dungeon that may claim your life if you are unprepared for it, but it can also impart you with unspeakable power should you prevail.â
Jin-woo perks up at this information, his interest now fully piqued. âTell me, master, where can I find the Demonâs Castle?â
âIt hides far away, in the city of Seoul, within an incorporeal dominion. It is a flame-ridden landscape that will require you to assume the form of a human to enter the castle. Knowing all the risks it entails; do you still accept my offer?â
âI do,â Jinwoo confidently states.
âVery well,â Ashborn nods his assent, and a key materializes into Jin-wooâs palm.
âUse this key to open the gate to the Demonâs Castle. I have also implanted it with the coordinates to the dungeonâs location. You need only close your eyes and grasp onto the key to visualize it.â
Following the instructions, Jin-woo sees a map that details the exact distance from his current whereabouts to the metropolitan area of Seoul. It will be a lengthy trip, even with his impressive swimming prowess. He estimates it will take roughly half a day to arrive at his destination. Undeterred, Jin-woo presses onward.
âTeacher, I cannot thank you enough for all your help and guidance over these last few years. I give you my word; I will return alive and well, both with the elixir and Baranâs head. And then I will meet with the omega and court her in earnest.â
He departs without another word, although his promise relays an unspoken farewell between them. After some time passes, Ashborn stares at the vast skies of his domain and muses to himself.
âYou have grown so much from when I rescued you from the Cartenon Temple all those years ago, Sung Jin-woo. I could not be prouder of you, my disciple. Till our next encounter.â
12 hours later...
Jin-woo finally emerges from the dark, briny waters that frame Seoulâs coastline.
After leaving Ashbornâs lair, he briefly returned home to pack and prepare for the journey ahead. Both Jin-ah and his mother were worried about his sudden departure, so he did the best he could to assuage their fears by giving them a sanitized version of the truth.
Jin-woo claimed Ashborn had provided him with a list of rare ingredients that were only available for purchase in the human markets at Seoul. He even promised to bring back a box of chocolates as a souvenir, something his mother and little sister had enjoyed during one of his return trips to the surface. He then traveled the full 413-kilometer distance from Jindo-gun to Seoul, stopping only for a few hours to rest and recuperate.
As he approaches land, he assumes the form of a naked human man and walks inland from the sea. However, Jin-woo comes to a halt when he becomes more aware of his current state of nudity. While it didnât bother him, it would cause a lot of unnecessary trouble if any nosy beachgoers happened upon him and asked questions. It is alsoâŚpretty embarrassing to admit that he isâŚwobbly on these legs. Very much so.
He quickly summons his magical inventory and grabs a simple black t-shirt, boxers, fitted jeans, and athletic sneakers (âAdidasâ, the portly sales attendant had called them). As worthless as he found human decorum to be, Jin-woo needed to remain as inconspicuous as possible while he was in disguise. Once dressed, he strolled into the city. After 45 minutes, he found himself at the designated street junction on the map. Taking a deep breath, he brings forth the key, turns it, and unlocks the gate.Â
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đđđđ§đđđŠđđ§(đ¨); Ashborn (Brilliant Fragment of Light)/(Shadow Monarch)
đŹđđ§đŁđđŁđ; a little bit of angst, mentions of betrayal
đŁđ¤đŠđđ¨; this is my first time writing for a fandom/character so it might be a little rough. I might make a few edits here and there in the future. Also Ruler reader in the first half.
⢠You're likely not a human if you were together before he became the Shadow Monarch. Maybe one of the Rulers? Someone from their troops?
⢠You knew him before he knew you. He was kind of hard to miss since he was once one of Brilliant Fragments of Light. Talks about him amongst your fellow Rulers were common as well.
⢠He's a busy man of high ranking, well respected and admired by many. He's not someone anyone thinks they could approach lightly but contrary to those beliefs, Ashborn would never turn down any of his companions who come to him.
⢠You're probably the one to approach him first. It could be anything like reporting the status of the army to him or just asking him a question out of curiosity, if you're bold enough. Either way, now he's aware of who you are.
⢠As your interactions become more frequent, he slowly grows more curious about you as well. Expect deeper and longer conversations too.
⢠Sometimes you'll find yourself training together and although Ashborn has never been one to flaunt his abilities, he'll pull off a hard stunt or move just to impress you. You can see the corners of his eyes creasing slightly under his helmet when you show your admiration or praise him.
⢠(Bellion has some competition)
⢠It takes some time but eventually the both of you grow close enough that he feels safe to share his fears and concerns to you about the wars and how much it pains him to see the others get hurt.
⢠He's so used to being the strongest, the reliable pillar everyone can lean on. You're the only one who gets to see him like this. Vulnerable. đđŚđ˘đŹ.
⢠After you cross that threshold, you can see him being a lot more open and affectionate towards you. It includes small things like asking you how your day was, waiting for you to catch up to him and asking if you need help with anything.
⢠Kissing isn't really known by him or any of your kind, for that matter. Instead, you'll get affectionate head bumps (helmet to helmet), nuzzling your horns or faces together, holding hands and brushing your wings with one another.
⢠He'll become more protective of you, especially during the wars. Even though he can't always be by your side, he'll make sure none of the more dangerous opponents come your way. Checking up on you after every fight in also a must.
⢠Give him your love and loyalty, he will return it tenfold. But beware, betray his trust and you will burn in the fires of his anger. Yet...
⢠...He could not bring himself to hate you even as you sink your spear into his back and fly off with the rest to kill his Master.
⢠Whether you are a Ruler or human or anything else, you will have to have a lot and I mean A LOT of patience with this man. He has already been betrayed twice which has left him a little more than distrustful and paranoid about others.
⢠Unlike his Fragment self, he pushes away anyone who tries to approach him. He refuses to entertain any sort of conversation unless it's with his shadow soldiers, even then their interactions are limited to business.
⢠He's not taking any more chances. He's had centuries of time to build up the walls around him so it's going to take more than just a few words for you to break down each and every one.
⢠Lot of cold glares, short & direct answers and getting ignored. Don't take it to heart. Being dismissed is still better than ending up on the wrong side of his greatsword.
⢠Its going to take a long time before you can earn even a smidgen of his trust. He is constantly doubting what your true intentions are, whether you're lying to him or not or if you're just trying to exploit his weaknesses (if he even has any).
⢠The key is consistency and knowing when to give him space. Try not to accidentally anger the ancient being. That's how you end up as fertilizer for the World Tree.
⢠Don't force him to do anything he doesn't like and recognize the cues when you should take your leave. Slowly, you'll find him starting to relax around you. It's not an easy process but eventually, he will acknowledge you and respond to your greetings or small talk.
⢠Ashborn will likely begin observing you from afar, taking note of your behavior and intentions. When he sees you are sincere in wanting to get close to him and not hurt him, he will gradually start to open up more.
⢠You won't notice exactly when it happened but Ashborn has already warmed up to you and your presence. He still has his doubts but he's weaker to his emotions than he thought...
⢠He will remain defensive but in rare moments, his true personality shows through, revealing the weary and kind-hearted being underneath.
His fingers twitch against his sides for a split secondâclaws flexing on instincts before he forcibly relaxes them. You had already reassured him that the cut on your arm was an accident but he still seemed on edge. He mutters something like, "Foolish creature...you are already fragile as it is." And quickly walks about before you notice the hint of vulnerability.
(He offered to have one of his shadow soldiers follow you around to keep you safe but of course you immediately turned it down.)
⢠You've become somewhat of an emotional pillar for him and although Ashborn doesn't show it, his feelings of not being good enough (not only as a lover but also as a warrior and protector) haunt him constantly. Your words of reassurances mean more to him than you might think.
⢠He would show his affection in subtle yet meaningful gestures: He would walk close to you, slightly shielding you with his body or cloak at all times, offering you words of encouragement when you seem to be struggling and remembering small things you mentioned in earlier conversations.
⢠The most you'll get from him in terms of physical affection (for now) is hand holding. At first, he's hesitant but he doesn't realise how touch starved he is until his fingers curl around yours. He had almost forgotten how it felt to touch another person after being surrounded by nothing but the cold and shadows for years.
⢠The warmth of your hand lets him know that you're here, safe and alive.
⢠His love is selfless, caring for you before himself. He loves you with everything he has and he will give up anything just to keep you safe. He has lost everything else, he doesn't want to lose you too.
⢠⢠â˘
Here is something no one asked for but I had fun writing this. I got side tracked a few times and there was a lot more I want to include but couldn't in the end. I want to make a Rulersona one day...yes.....
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Could you do one that's reader and Ashborn, something that's kinda fluff. Where like, reader introduces Ashborn to positive physical interaction. (He's been through so much I just want to hug him! đ)
Aww that's so cute đĽş
______. ._______
A Touch of Light
Ashborn was not accustomed to touch.
In his long existence, hands had only ever reached for him in violence. Grasping, tearing, demandingâalways seeking power, never offering warmth. Even before he became the Shadow Monarch, before the heavens cast him down, he had been a god of destruction. Untouchable. Distant. Alone.
And yet, there you were.
A mere human, standing before him without fear. Your presence was as soft as the wind that passed through the ruins where he often lingered, a place long abandoned by time. You were nothing like the beings he had known before. You were not made of divinity, nor of monstrous power. And yet, somehow, you unsettled him more than any warrior ever had.
It started small.
The first time you touched him, it had been an accidentâyour fingertips brushing against the edge of his armored gauntlet as you reached for something beside him. He had gone rigid, shadows curling instinctively around him like a beast prepared to strike. But you had only blinked at him, unafraid.
"Youâre colder than I expected," you murmured.
He did not respond. What was there to say? He had not known warmth in centuries.
The second time, it was intentional.
You had found him sitting beneath the remnants of an ancient tree, its branches long dead but still standing. He often stayed there, watching the sky, lost in thoughts that spanned eternity.
"You look tired," you said.
He did not answer. A god does not grow weary. But something in the way you frowned at him made his chest feel... heavy.
Before he could react, you reached out, resting your palm against his forearm. Not in battle. Not in reverence. Just touchâgentle, warm, grounding.
He did not move.
No one had ever touched him like that.
"Youâre really cold," you murmured again, rubbing his arm absentmindedly, as if trying to bring warmth to something long since frozen. "Does it hurt?"
He stared at you. The question made no sense. Pain was an old companion, one he had long since stopped acknowledging. But this? This strange, unfamiliar warmth spreading through him? He did not know what to make of it.
And yet, he did not pull away.
Over time, it became a pattern.
Small, fleeting touches. A hand brushing against his when you handed him something. The press of your palm against his back as you walked beside him. One time, you had even reached up, brushing stray strands of his dark hair away from his face without a second thought.
He did not understand.
Why did you do these things?
Why did you not recoil from him, as all others had?
One night, as you both sat in silence beneath the ruined sky, he asked you.
"Why do you touch me?"
You tilted your head, as if the question itself was strange. "Because I want to."
He frowned. That was not an answer.
Seeing his confusion, you sighed and shifted closer, your knee brushing against his. "Youâve been alone for a long time, havenât you?"
Alone.
The word settled over him like a weight. He had never considered it before. He had been beyond such things, beyond the need for companionship. Or so he had believed.
"You donât have to be," you continued, voice softer now. "I donât know what youâve been through, Ashborn. But... you donât always have to be untouchable."
Untouchable. That, too, had been a truth he had never questioned.
Until now.
Without thinking, he reached out.
It was awkwardâhesitant, almost clumsy. His hand hovered near yours, unsure of how to proceed. He had wielded power beyond comprehension, had ended civilizations with a mere gesture. And yet, the simple act of reaching for your hand felt... foreign.
You noticed. Instead of waiting, you closed the distance yourself, intertwining your fingers with his.
Warmth.
A slow, quiet thing. Not the fire of battle, nor the blaze of destruction. Just warmthâsteady, certain, human.
"You see?" You smiled at him, giving his hand a small squeeze. "Not so bad, right?"
Ashborn did not answer. He only stared at your joined hands, at the quiet miracle of it.
And for the first time in countless centuries, he felt something shift deep within him.
Something fragile.
Something warm.
---
The change was gradual.
At first, Ashborn remained still whenever you touched him, as if uncertain whether he should allow it. Then, slowly, he began to accept it. He no longer flinched when your fingers brushed his, nor did he tense when you leaned against him on colder nights.
But an embrace? That was different.
You never forced it, never pushed him beyond what he was ready for. But one evening, when exhaustion weighed heavy in your own limbs, you found yourself dozing off beside him, your head naturally resting against his shoulder.
He froze.
For a long moment, he did nothing.
Then, cautiously, he shiftedânot away from you, but toward you. The movement was small, hesitant, but unmistakable. You felt the tension ease from his frame, the weight of his presence settling more comfortably against yours.
It was the first time he had ever let himself be held.
And it would not be the last.
---
One night, the stars burned bright, casting silver light upon the ruined world around you.
Ashborn stood beside you, watching the sky, silent as ever.
Then, without warning, he turned to face you fully.
You blinked up at him, surprised by the intensity of his gaze. "What is it?"
He did not answer.
Instead, he reached outâdeliberately, purposefullyâand cupped your cheek in his hand.
It was the first time he had ever touched you on his own.
His palm was cool against your skin, his fingers surprisingly gentle as they traced the curve of your jaw. It was as if he were memorizing the sensation, committing the warmth of you to memory.
You leaned into his touch instinctively, eyes softening. "Ashborn..."
His thumb brushed over your cheekbone. A quiet exhale left him, something close to wonder flickering in his expression.
"I did not know," he murmured, voice almost reverent.
"Did not know what?" you whispered.
"That touch could feel like this."
You covered his hand with your own, pressing his palm more firmly against your cheek. "And how does it feel?"
He hesitated, searching for the right words. Then, at last, he answered.
"Warm."
A slow smile spread across your face. "Good. Then we'll just have to make sure you get used to it."
And for the first time in centuries, the Shadow Monarch let himself believe in something other than war.