It is no more a hidden spot, though. You walk away from the particularly thick tree that served as shield from onlookers, lips pursing when you glance towards the main path that leads back to the castle. Indeed, one of the king’s elite guards is heading in your direction, white cloak swaying behind him as his intimidating armor glints under the blazing sunlight.

Helmet under his arm, his face is in full display, and his eyes find yours with an ease that only strengthens your dread. A smile makes the corner of his mouth twitch as he stops right in front of you, never breaking eye contact as he bows gently.

“My lady,” he says, voice strong and confident. “I suppose the prince already filled you in, but if he did not—”

“He did,” you reply, blushing profusely when you realize your brisk interruption. “Sorry. But yes, he already warned me of your presence.”

He arches an eyebrow. “Warned? Well— I am not surprised. It was quite a difficult task to find you. I have been searching since dawn, you know.”

Your growing dread mixes with embarrassment at that. It is not that you wanted to make this particularly difficult for him — but the idea of having a strange knight from the Kingsguard watching your every step sounded too dreadful to face, and your feelings of despair took over your logic as you continued to flee throughout the day, playing an useless game of hide and seek that you knew you would eventually lose. He is a royal knight, after all, and you are just another lady from Highgarden, not yet used to the outside world beyond the walls of your family’s castle back home.

“Remember that you are betrothed to the prince of the Seven Kingdoms, my lady,” he continues, as if reading your mind. He has not lost that easy smile, almost cocky but not enough to make you loathe him straight away. “Sooner or later the King would have assigned someone to look over you. It is the duty of the Kingsguard to protect the current and future generations of this house.”

He glances down briefly, and your stomach churns when you realize he is most likely imagining a baby already growing in your belly. You clear your throat, face growing hot and knees wobbling with discomfort.

“Well then, Ser— it is not as if my opinion matters that much,” your voice comes out surprisingly clear, what with the stinging unease poisoning your veins. “I suppose you can just… follow me around. But you will get bored fast, I warn you.”

He nods, eyes glinting. “Warning taken. And you can call me Hoseok. Jung Hoseok.”

“Ser Hoseok,” you mutter, tasting the name on your lips. Surprisingly, out of all of the names that have left your mouth ever since you came to King’s Landing, his does not feel like imminent betrayal, or like a million secrets kept behind false smiles.

It sounds like something more, even if you cannot put your finger on it. Not yet, at least.

He seems to take notice of your scrutinizing look, and you shyly look away as he squares his shoulders and places a hand on the pommel of his sword, which rests on the side of his belt.

“If you allow me a bit of advice— King’s Landing is not meant for those who hide. You may only have a chance of climbing the ladder if you step your ground.”

His words make a shiver run down your spine, even if there is no malice in them and his eyes still glint lightly, with a hint of diversion and a casualness that do not match the usual wary glances you have seen across every single occupant of the Red Keep. You rapidly realize it is no more than a respectful way of spelling the word coward, making your skin heat in mortification as you look into his eyes again.

“I could have you hanged, you know. I do not think that is proper a way of speaking to the future Queen.”

The sudden words that leave your mouth are surprising, even for yourself, and this time the knight adopts a pleased look.

“There you go,” he says, eyes as warm as ever. You blink, trying to quench down the satisfied smile that tries to extend your lips. He steps back, then, clearing the path towards the castle. “You are free to go wherever you please, my lady. I will just be a shadow — you will not even notice me breathing.”

You nod, starting to walk back towards the Keep with no particular destination in mind. For once, you are not embracing the silence you used to seek for eagerly — there is a strange urge in the back of your mind that is eager to break it, to make the knight speak again and to earn another pleased look directed at yourself. It does not last long, though. Before you can enter the castle, his voice reaches the back of your neck, and you finally admit to yourself that the sound of his deep, assertive voice is more than welcome already.

“Of course, it is an entirely different matter if you were found in a position of danger,” he continues, never losing his casualness. You finally allow yourself to smile — there is something about the way he speaks that makes it impossible not to feel at ease, and you quietly wonder if you are being too naive, too eager to trust this man. This is King’s Landing, after all: the land of the two-faced, as your mother calls it. “Even though I do not wish for that to happen, I do hope you can witness my skills someday, my lady.”

“You must be hungry for attention if you want praise from a foreign lady, Ser.”

“You underestimate yourself.”

You look back at that, earning a dazzling smile that make you lose your train of thought for a second. You can faintly recall the maids of the castle whispering about a handsome knight who belonged to the Kingsguard, and you would not be surprised if they referred to Jung Hoseok. Even if your appreciation for the prince — and your future husband — is fervent and genuine, it does not stop you from acknowledging other kinds of beauty, especially not one with such brightness. His eyes are honest and his smile is big and easy, and his skin is smooth and golden like the melting afternoon that smears over the vigorous city that is King’s Landing.

He has the kind of beauty that is hard to look away from, and you are not sure if it is a discovery you wanted to unveil.

“My lady, there you are.”

You break eye contact with the knight, looking in the direction of the familiar voice that immediately makes your lips curve upwards in a relieved smile. Jungkook is heading in your direction, wearing the copper and dark blue robes of his house and a subtle crown that contrasts against his dark, soft-looking hair. He takes your hand and presses a kiss on top of it, face flaming hot when he gazes into your eyes and gives you an intimate look.

“I see you met Hoseok already. He is a good friend of mine, and I begged father to let me choose him for your protection. Is he to your liking?”

You are not sure if you can ever get used to this kind of attention, even if you were born in a family of great titles and high standards, one that placed you in a high pedestal before you even knew how to speak. You cannot deny you enjoy it, though — especially with the way your heart throbs in front of the prince’s gentle smile and comforting gaze. He is the complete opposite of his father and current King, widely known for his cold eyes and stern aura.

“He is. I like him.”

“Good,” the prince nods, staring at Hoseok with a look you cannot decipher. He smiles again, keeping the atmosphere light as he takes your hand in his. “I hope you will not steal her away from me, Jung.”

“Not happening,” Hoseok rapidly reassures him. “I would not steal her without her consent, Your Highness.”

Your smile transforms into a thin line at the joke. “Well, firstly— I will not be stolen away because I am not a prize.”

Hoseok nods and chuckles at that, and the sound eases some of the knots of discomfort that formed around your bones the moment you came to the castle. You share another stare for a few seconds, only snapping out of it when Jungkook squeezes your hand.

“You can wait by her chambers, Hoseok. If the lady wants, I would love to spend some time alone with her in the Godswood.”

You squeeze his hand back, not daring to give the knight another look. “Yes. I would love that.”

The knight nods and walks away, and you allow yourself one last glance at his broad back and the way he firmly grips at his sword, like an anchor that keeps him from floating away. But Jungkook quickly gets a hold of your attention, and all thoughts of the knight with the bright smile vanish into the furthest corners of your mind, what with the prince’s gentle hold of your hand and the way his dark eyes flash with all of the possibilities your future together will bring.

“Let’s go then, my princess.”

And you follow along.

/

Two months pass, and you are in love.

Which is completely wrong, of course — but it is not as if your feelings can be tamed. They are the only thing you own that no one else can see or control, they are pure and real beyond royal titles and expensive clothes and convenient friendships, and you are not eager to let them go, even if they only cause you trouble.

You have lost count of the times you were called ingenuous and childlike by the maids that have become close enough to be like sisters. After all, what is true love in a place like this? it is a laughable, corny concept, and you can perfectly understand why. Engagements are no more than political unions, and enamored smiles only come from expectations of gold and favors. Men and women alike take your hand and smile in confidence, even if their intentions are as superficial as the look in their eyes, and you are expected to smile back if their name and family can benefit the crown in any way. You are no stranger to the game everyone plays in the country of Westeros, one that is fundamentally based in a tug and pull of connections and power.

You do not care if others snicker behind their hands when you insist Jung Hoseok is more than another player entangled in such dangerous game. You are confident that his smiles are real — that they come from a place of true affection and not eagerness to please the future queen, that the words he speaks come directly from his mind and are not filtered and embellished, that the look in his eyes and his laughs are as carefree as they seem. He may be a knight of the Kingsguard, and he may serve a King you do not really trust yourself, but that does not mean you are blind to the truth of his heart.

Which is why two months after arriving to King’s Landing you wait by your old hidden spot in the Godswood, sun barely starting to rise as the sleeping city slowly awakens. You are holding a piece of parchment between your fingers, one that might or might not change the course of your life soon, and for a second it almost feels like it is starting to burn, alive and churning against your fingertips. The searing sensation spreads across your arms and reaches down your body, making goosebumps rise all over your skin as the weather goes from hot to gelid in a heartbeat. You are sure it is all part of your currently overloaded imagination, sharpening your breaths and lodging heavy stones under your chest.

Finally, the now familiar sound of confident steps reaches your ears. This time you wait for him to find you, looking down at your feet and the hands that hide the piece of paper between them. You look up when the sound of his steps is close enough, and a nervous smile graces your lips when you find his half drowsy expression staring back at your own. He returns the gesture immediately, albeit the confusion is more than clear on his features.

“My lady,” he greets, voice rougher than usual. “I hope there is a good reason for such an early meeting. Are you in trouble?”

“In a way, yes,” you smile again, slowly showing him the parchment. Your hands are trembling when you give it to him and he takes it with an even more confused gaze, frowning as he opens it with gloved hands. Your heart rushes even more, if possible — and the air gets stuck in your throat when he starts reading the words you wrote yesterday night, in the intimacy of your sleeping chambers.

“I’m…” you stutter, not sure of what to say. The previous bravado that allowed you to ask him for a private meeting is rapidly vanishing, what with the confused expression that only grows sharper across his face. “I am sure this is unexpected for you, and a bit… ungracious of me. But it is something I needed to do. I am sorry if it causes you any discomfort.”

“Is this for the prince, my lady?” he asks a few seconds later, lifting his gaze. His expression is completely blank, something that is rare to see — you have always found it easy to read him, just as effortlessly as he does with yourself. “I don’t understand. Would you like to know if it’s well written? I believe one of your maids would be better for that kind of advice, not me.”

You blink, heart almost stopping as the following words leave your mouth. “It is not for him, Ser. It’s for you.”

It takes him a few seconds to process. He blinks, looks down, reads it again, and then lifts his eyes again to give you a smile — one so different from the previous ones he has given you in the last two months. It is almost… painful, awkward and beaming with discomfort, but also gentle and careful, as if he is trying to quietly measure the words that are about to leave his mouth. It is a gesture you know very well, and it reminds you of the times when you were a young kid and asked questions that had answers too complicated for a child.

That smile, paired with the look on his face, make you realize one painful fact very fast — that your maids are not the only ones who believe how naive you are. That even if you are of age already, even if you thought you had already spread your wings a long time ago, you are probably more of a child than you ever realized.

“My lady…” Hoseok clears his throat, biting his lip as he gives you back the parchment, and the heavy love confession written on it. Taking it feels like placing your hand inside a rising wood fire. “I am not sure of what to say.”

You are not able to meet his eyes anymore. You fix your eyes onto a faraway spot, skin sizzling uncomfortably as the hand holding the paper clenches into a loose fist. “There is no need to say anything. I only wanted you to know.” And I wanted you to say it back.

“What about the prince? Don’t you love him?”

“I care about him,” you say, smiling quietly. “He is good to me. But I… um…”

“Can I give you a piece of advice, my lady?”

You nod, still not meeting his eyes. “I suppose.”

“Westeros, King’s Landing,” he waves his hand around, towards the Godswood and the castle that rises behind the opulent gardens. “Something like love does not fit in a place like this. It never has, and it never will. Surviving and trying to be someone in this unfair, violent place is too important to allow our feelings to get in the way. I suggest you do the same, my lady. Push it all away, marry the prince, give your family and house a new future and the honor they deserve. Allow the prince to take care of you, and give him wisdom and happiness in return. Not everyday you see someone that might actually be a kind, generous king, with an equally kind-hearted queen.”

You allow his words to sink in. It feels like your throat is narrowing and curtailing the air you breathe in, not for his implied rejection but for how careless you have been — careless and ungrateful, two words your last name has carried for generations, which you know understand.

Large mountains of gold were always at your reach, and deep down you always knew that was the sole reason the King agreed to wed you to their son. It was an indelible truth in your heart, how most royals only wanted to get a glimpse of that wealth with a little push from your own hands, but it was beyond ignorant of you to believe they were the only selfish people here.

Because you are selfish, too — the biggest of them all, even, for wanting to tarnish the name of your House just because your heart felt a little playful and decided to beat harder for someone else. For wanting to ridicule Jungkook, the only good-natured prince the Seven Kingdoms have ever seen, and for listening to your needs when a whole country is probably waiting for theirs to be solved by you in the not so faraway future.

This entire realization clicks in the blink of an eye. Finally making eye contact with the knight, your heart involuntarily throbs at the worried look he’s giving you, and you force a reassuring smile in his direction as you place your hands on your back. They are still holding the parchment, now wrinkled between your fingers.

“You are right, Ser,” you nod, cheeks still flaming. “Thank you. And… let’s forget this meeting ever happened.”

“As you wish,” he bows gently. There is no easy smile this time, and you wonder if he now knows the gesture was one of the reasons you fell so deeply in love.

He starts walking back to the castle and you follow him slowly, allowing some distance between you both as your fingers play with the love confession behind your back. As silently as you can you rip it apart, and it feels like you are allowing the last true piece of yourself to splinter and shatter, just as easily as the shriveled parchment.

I am part of the game now, you realize, a bitter smile curving your lips.

And all you can do now is be another pawn.

/

The last time you see Ser Jung Hoseok occurs after midnight, four weeks after your heart got broken.

The last time you were awaken so rudely was during a mutiny back home, and your immediate reaction is blind fear when you feel a large hand shaking your shoulder insistently. You open your eyes with a gasp stuck in your mouth and a queasy sensation that goes all the way down to your stomach, eyes widening when you meet the knight’s across the darkness and see the clear alarm in them. The drowsiness slows down your thoughts, but one fact is evident: whatever is going on, it is much, much worse than a mutiny.

“Ser,” you mutter, voice cracking as he pulls at your hand. You do not have time to feel embarrassed about being seen your sleeping robes — with the way he hurriedly storms around and searches for your clothes to throw them onto the bed, it seems like your time is limited, which in turn makes you reach for your dress as your heart quickens its pace. “Please tell me what’s happening.”

“I will explain on our way out,” he says, breathing ragged. “Please dress. I will not look. But hurry,” he turns around and you silently agree, sleep still clinging to your movements as you clumsily change clothes and put on the dress the knight threw on your bed. It is not one you brought from Highgarden, but rather a gift from Jungkook — the fabric is as soft as it is expensive-looking, the color of rich midnight matching with the ones of his own robes.

You style your hair in a fast bun before clearing your throat, allowing the knight to turn around. He extends a hand in your direction and you immediately reach out to him, hand stalling in the air before touching his.

“Please tell me what’s going on,” you beg, voice shaky. “Are we in danger? Did… did something happen to the prince?”

“If you have an ounce of trust in me, please let me take you out of this castle. I promise I will make everything clear on our way out. We just need to hurry.”

You have never seen Hoseok this way, altered and alarmed beyond his usual composed stance. The knights of the Kingsguard are known for keeping calm even in the most dangerous situations,  which serves to reassure the people weaker than them and stops the panic from spreading. To see Jung Hoseok, a knight of the Kingsguard, with his dark eyes rounder and wider than ever and a rigid stance that screams caution, turns your blood as icy as that of a true northerner. It feels as if time has stilled and reality is no more, and it is with a cold, trembling hand that you take his own, nodding mutely.

“Thank you,” he mouths, opening the door of your bedroom and leading you out with hasty steps. You rush across hallways dimly lit with dying fire, faraway voices reaching your ears and mingling with the sound of fast footsteps, just as swift as your own. You lose count of the times you have to stop and hide in the shadows so as not to be seen by other knights and occupants of the castle, muttering amongst each other in rushed words that you are not able to pick up.

The knight allows himself to breathe deeply the moment you reach one of the countless exits of the castle, one that used to be one of your hidden spots when you first arrived from Highgarden. Not many people are aware of this way out, which you found out of pure luck and after a lot of exploring on your own during quiet mornings. It consists of a narrow hallway that leads towards a time-worn wooden door, which Hoseok opens to reveal a restricted, neglected yard. On the other side a smaller structure rises, less intimidating than the castle, where the laundry and other small chores take place.

One time were you brave enough to enter said place, quickly realizing that you could easily find your way out into the city just by crossing the jagged interior and leaving through the other side. If you were not found out first, that is.

“Ser,” you stop in your tracks when you both step into the yard, humid green grass lightly caressing your ankles. He turns around and finally do you see the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips, one that reminds you of that wide, warm grin that turned your days in King’s Landing less bitter and confusing.

“I might not be a Ser anymore when the dawn comes.”

His hand lets you go, and you swallow thickly. “Can you tell me now?”

“Yes,” he places his hand on the pommel of his sword, something he seems to do whenever he needs to ground himself. Clearing his throat, he looks in the direction of the hallway you both just came from, eyes finding yours again as his expression loses all of its previous ease. “A lot has happened ever since you went back to your sleeping chambers early in the night, my lady.”

“Just tell me.”

“I presume you were already aware of your father’s visit.”

You give him a cautious look, muscles stiffening. “Yes… he is bringing all of the gold the Crown asked from us. He is supposed to arrive tomorrow.”

“Not anymore,” he says, lips pursing. “It seems like… he took all of the gold and fled, my lady. Our soldiers tried to get a hold from him, but he managed to get into a ship and left the country. Last we heard he was hiding in Essos, though he is probably somewhere else at this point.”

A weak whine makes its way past your lips, and you allow your legs to give out as you hastily sit on top of the grass. You close your eyes tightly, trying to get a hold of the whirlwind of emotions trying to burst out.

“He was always… he was always so greedy—” you mutter through gritted teeth, hands curling into fists on your lap. Hoseok kneels in front of you, and the hand that reaches to your shoulder makes you look up through tears of anger.

“That is not all,” he says, this time quietly, and your heart almost stops. You gaze into his eyes, and oh, do you know that look very well. Of words that you do not want to hear, and of incoming pain.

“Hours after we heard the news… the Coal Shadow made an appearance in Highgarden.”

You look down at your lap, and all of your emotions suddenly disappear — as if they got too big for your body to handle, so they decided to flee instead.

“My family is gone, isn’t it?” you ask, breaths shortening. “My mother, my brothers and sisters — they are all dead, aren’t they?”

The knight keeps silent for a while. Finally, he responds, voice strained and rough. “We do not know who survived, my lady. All we know is that the castle was completely burn out. The Coal Shadow set it all in flames. I am sorry.”

You are not sure of how to react. You are faintly aware that your body needs to cry, but something stops you from allowing the tears to fall — maybe it is the raw anger you are only starting to know, or the composed facade you have been slowly building ever since you came to King’s Landing by yourself; to be a future queen, a princess that knows the tug and pull and is not as naive as others believe her to be.

Maybe it is the awareness that something like this was going to happen sooner or later. Like Hoseok said once, solely surviving becomes essential in a place like this, where you can turn into a traitor in a snap of fingers.

Which you now are at the fault of your father’s weakness, gold and wealth. Your family already paid for it through the pain of flames, and even if the Coal Shadow is still a mystery to the Seven Kingdoms — no one really knows where that monster comes from, or who it belongs to — it is too much of a coincidence that said dragon decided to burn your home to the ground right after your father betrayed the Crown. Even if they have never acknowledged it, the Coal Shadow has to belong to the King, and if that is the case, you are most definitely next in its death list.

“You understand now, do you?” Hoseok mutters, getting up and extending a hand in your direction. You take it and he helps you up, and your knees are barely able to keep you standing, wobbling with icy fear even if your face keeps its blank facade. “The dragon is after you now. We need to go now if you want to stay alive.”

“Why are you helping me?” you finally ask, looking straight into his eyes as painful tremors continue to run up and down your back. “You said it yourself, so long ago— that surviving and climbing the ladder is what’s most important here. You made it clear that you had no feelings for me. But here you are, breaking every oath you took.”

“Now, that would be another long story,” he grabs your hand, eyes turning clearer and warmer. You wish you could feel that warmth right now, but the pain is too overwhelming to allow it inside. “But I decided to be stupid and reckless tonight, and there is no turning back now.”

And I have nothing to lose. He leads you away from the castle and inside the laundry room, steps turning wary as you both look around in case there is someone waiting to ambush either of you. But the path is still eerily silent, and the darkness follows your every step as you reach the other side and finally step out into the city. You are first welcomed by the sight of a broad canal that stretches infinitely in both sides, and only the light of the moon serves as guidance as it reflects is blueish glow onto the slightly pungent waters.

Hoseok takes you down a short set of stairs that lead directly to the canal, where a small wooden boat floats peacefully. You both stop in front of it and he points at a dark brown bag that rests on the floor of the vessel, not letting go of your hand just yet.

“In that bag you will find a cloak, some food and water, and a purse with gold. Put on the cloak and hide your face as best as you can, and row down in the direction of the moon. You will reach the market area, where some ships might take you with them if you offer them enough gold. You will have to wait until dawn, but the darkness of the night is on your side. Just remember— as soon as the sun goes up, leave.”

“What is the point, Ser?”

He loses his determined look, adopting an expression of pure confusion when he looks in your direction. “What do you mean?”

A humorless smile shadows over your face, and your body feels weightless when you look back at the knight.

“I have no family. I have no home. I have no name or wealth to rely on. I keep raking my brain, but I cannot find a reason to flee. There is no path I can take and no real reason to survive as a traitor,” those thoughts sound darker now that they are out into the cool night, but you do not care about how pitiful you might sound — you are still forbidding the tears to fall, after all, and these words are the only outlet of your pain. “Maybe I could… talk to the prince, and beg for mercy to serve as a maid, or work in the kitchens. I appreciate all you have done for me, but—”

“Y/N,” you blink when he pronounces your name, which he has never done before. It makes you shiver as he places his gloves hands on your shoulders, looking straight into your eyes with a fierce look that makes you inhale sharply. “Go back home. And if there is no path for you, then make one for yourself. No King, and no damned dragon should decide that for you.”

“Out of darkness we bring light,” you say gently, voice breaking. Hoseok nods, smiling.

“The motto of your house,” he recalls, nodding. “Truer words have never been spoken tonight. You are that light now, my lady. Leave this place and lead your house out of the darkness.”

Your body reacts before you can even think about it, stepping closer and letting your forehead rest on top of his shoulder. You grip his hands cautiously, squeezing tenderly before letting go.

“What will happen to you?” you ask when you step back, feeling suddenly bashful.

He looks slightly dazed for a few seconds, rapidly snapping out of it as a crooked smile makes its way up his lips. “I would go with you, my lady, but I need to go back to take care of some unfinished business. There are some… truths I need to find out. That is, if no one realizes I helped you escape — which is why I should go back now. A friend of mine in the Kingsguard was willing to lie for me, but even our closest friends can stab us in the back in King’s Landing.”

You nod, another twinge of fear curling around your neck at the prospect of Hoseok paying for his treason. “Good luck, Ser. I hope you get out of this alive.”

“I hope you will, too.”

You look into each other’s eyes for a while, and the silence of the night is strangely appeasing, calm, as if your life is not crumbling around you, as if Hoseok’s life is not currently at a dangerous crossroad. The connection breaks faster than you would have desired it too, and the sound of the rustling steel of his armor breaks the silence as he nods one last time and turns around, climbing up the stairs before rushing back to the Red Keep.

Just like that, you are alone — and the fear is almost drowning as you climb onto the narrow boat, trembling hands reaching into the bag and taking out a black, thick cloak that is meant for winter. You put it on and lift the hood up to cover your face, grabbing the wooden oar before placing it inside the dark waters.

You start rowing clumsily, arms barely strong enough to take you in the direction of the moon. It takes you a few seconds to realize the tears have finally escaped, but you allow them to slide down your face with ease, knowing that this is most likely the last time you will allow yourself to show such weakness.

“Out of darkness we bring light,” you repeat into the night, and little by little, pieces of yourself break away and sink into the blackness of the canal.

/

It feels like you have been running forever.

Your body is starting to shut down, but you do not allow yourself to stop. You continue, even if your legs are burning and your feet are becoming numb, even if loud gasps are forced past your mouth with the unbearable need to breathe. Your surroundings are blurred and consistent, the same trees and green lands following your every step as you continue to delve deep inside the never-ending forest.

You do not dare look at the dried blood in your hands and arms, holding onto the thick tunic that covers your naked body as you beg the heavens not to come across more soldiers on your path. Lord knows what they might do to a half naked, bloodied girl with a lost look on her face — but you have seen enough to get a faint, horrifying idea.

You wish you could keep running eternally, or at least until the fall of night, but there is only so much your worn out self can endure. Your feet slow down on their own accord as you continue to gasp for breath, chest stinging at the lack of air as your loud breaths fill in the steady silence. You rest your hands on your equally bloody knees, closing your eyes when dark dots start clouding your sight.

You open them as soon as you make sure you are not about to faint. Your throat burns uncomfortably from the lack of air and your head feels slightly dizzy, but that does not stop you from keeping still to focus on your hearing, still alarmed as you cautiously look around. You stiffen even more when you hear a faint groaning, quickly finding the source not too faraway.

Next to a tree and almost hidden amidst the shrubs, lies an injured knight with his head down and half his face covered in blood. You slowly approach the man, inspecting his attire and surroundings carefully. Going by his threadbare clothes and deteriorated armor, he is probably no more than a discarded soldier from a small House, which assures you the danger of being recognized is at a minimum. Next to his inert legs, a bag and a heavy looking sword are on full display, and your eyes almost shine with excitement as you slowly approach the moribund soldier. The expectations of new weapons and gold are too tempting to let go, and your usual caution vanishes as you approach the sword that glints under the fading sunlight.

You hold your breath as you snatch the bag and the sword in less than a second, smiling to yourself when you step back. But then you take a look at the bloodied face of the man and the ground tilts under your feet — even through the large amounts of blood, those features are impossible to forget, and sharp memories of expressive eyes and easy smiles hit you like a ton of bricks.

He groans again, and the quiet sound mixes with another that is just as faint — that of hurried footsteps and gallops, slowly but dangerously approaching your location. Your heart skips a beat as you kneel in front of the knight and shake his shoulder, placing the objects you stole back on his lap as you lift his face to inspect it better.

Getting a closer look, you find the source of the bleeding — a moderately deep cut above his forehead. Some soldiers probably beat him until he fell unconscious and left him to die in the middle of the forest, not expecting for him to wake up from a strike to the head.

“Hey—” you slap his cheek gently, making him groan again. “Wake up. Wake up.”

“What?” he gurgles, blinking confusedly as he finally opens his eyes. He coughs dryly, moaning in pain as he squeezes his eyes shut again.

“We need to go,” you whisper, heart thumping faster as the sounds of steps grow closer. “Can you get up?”

“No,” he says, but still moves. You manage to help him up after a few failed tries, allowing him to put most of his weight on your right side as you hold onto his bag and sword with your free hand. Your steps are painfully slow and soon enough you are both gasping, but the sound of incoming soldiers keeps you moving, even if your entire being is begging you to flee without the knight and his heavy weight dragging you down.

You stray away from the main path and enter the denseness of the forest, never stopping, always moving, even if the sound of footsteps and horses slowly vanishes. The knight seems to slowly regain some energy, though — and by the time you find another path within the forest he is almost able to walk without your help, breathing still ragged as he stops by the main path to take out a leather flask from his bag.

You stare silently as he leans back and pours most of the water onto his face, cleaning his face hastily as the blood disappears and reveals his face, just as you remember it. He drinks from the flask when he finishes, taking long gulps before inhaling deeply and looking in your direction.

“Thank you for that. I—” his words stop abruptly when he gets a close look at your face. His features brim with disbelief as he continues to stare unabashedly, lips parted and eyes wide as he struggles to form new words. You can only smile shyly, unconsciously tugging on the dark hood that covers your head.

“Hello, Ser.”

His confusion slowly transforms into something else — something lighter and brighter, and a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth as he continues to look at your face with gleaming eyes.

“I am no Ser anymore, my lady.”

“And I am no lady anymore,” you reply with ease. “Can I have some?”

It takes him a few seconds to realize you are pointing at the flask he’s holding. He nods, looking quietly stunned as you take it from him and desperately drink what is left of the water.

“Sorry,” you gasp, giving it back to him. “I can’t remember the last time I ate or drank.”

“No need to apologize. You just saved my life,” his eyes glide up and down your body — from the hood that shadows over your face, to the way the long cloak reaches down your legs, to the bloodied, muddy feet barely covered by torn, thin sandals. “I am very interested in knowing what happened to you— but first, let’s find an inn, shall we? Unless you are in a hurry, that is.”

You give him a suspicious look, watching his expression intently as he waits for a reply. His gaze has not changed at all, and it surprises you how well you remember that clear, weightless stare of his — one that always made you feel a bit lighter, like no judging eyes were following your every movement and waiting for you to misstep. But it has been too long, and memories are part of the past and not the present, even if your heart wants to trust him with the same ease you once knew.

“Are you expecting… something in return for helping me escape that one time?” you cannot help but wonder, even if the question makes you wince after you word it out loud. It hurts even more when he raises his eyebrows in a thoroughly offended expression, and you do not miss the way he rests his hand on the pommel of his sword, now sheathed inside the scabbard of his belt.

“You have changed,” he says, voice acquiring a serious tone. He clears his throat then, trying to form a courteous smile that does not seem to work all that well. “No, I am not expecting anything. It just seems like we both need some rest, and I have enough gold for one night.”

“Okay,” you nod, swallowing thickly. You rapidly walk towards the nearest open path, looking both ways before pointing towards the south. “Let’s go this way.”

You start walking slowly, allowing him to catch up behind you. His quick breaths reach your ears and for a second you feel guilty for not helping him again, but the prospect of sharing an inn with someone else keeps you too anxious to think about anything else.

“Why south?” he asks behind you, struggling for air already.

“Because I am running from the north,” you state plainly, not giving him any more explanations. He does not need them — not for now, at least.

You find an inn surprisingly soon, half packed with horses resting on the outside of the humble facade. The sun is starting to set right behind it, and you can already see candles being lit up through the windows. You do not realize you have stopped walking until you feel Jung Hoseok’s presence beside you, who raises a small bag with gold to shake it briefly.

“I truly hope this is enough,” he is smiling, you notice — a gesture that inevitably puts you at ease. You nod and keep walking towards the inn, this time next to each other, and you try to ignore the cold shivers that rake up your back when he opens the door and all sorts of eyes turn in your direction.

Soldiers and travelers from all over Westeros are occupying sets of tables and benches all across the wide hall, lights dim and weak as they barely illuminate plates full of dubious-looking pottage and countless flagons of ale. The chatter seems to quiet down as you and Hoseok walk towards the other side of the room, grimacing as you feel the filth of the floors seeping through your thin shoes.

He takes a seat on an empty, barely lit table, and you carefully sit in front of him before looking around. You let Hoseok deal with the innkeeper that immediately approaches you both with a frown and a not so welcoming expression, keeping your gaze sharp as you make sure there are no soldiers wearing the black and blue colors of Jeon Jungkook’s House.

Briefly after escaping you almost found comfort in them, always sure they would take you to the prince if you begged enough, but too much time has passed to still believe in that possibility, which now sounds beyond preposterous. The colors black and blue are your main enemy now, fill you with a dread and a venomous need for revenge that fuels your body to keep going, and not to stop running.

You turn back to the former knight after you stop inspecting the entire hall, almost jumping on the spot when you find his eyes on you already. He seems curious, and not in a way that make you want to crawl out of your skin — it just feels… faintly familiar, with hints of a warmth you almost forgot. Even through the tiredness and fatigue his face shows, he still looks exactly the same as you remember him — with strong features and slightly wavy dark hair and broad shoulders, stance and aura as graceful as ever despite the frayed armor that covers his body.

“Well, in case you were not listening— we now have a full meal and a room, isn’t that great?” he states, smirking triumphantly. “And don’t worry, you won’t need to pay me back. Consider this as a gift for not letting me die in that forest.”

“Only one room?” you ask, frowning. You decide to do a second check-up around the hall, just in case.

“Well, I did not have that much gold— why do you keep looking around?”

“You should, too,” you tell him, raising your brows.

He snorts, leaning back. “Why?”

“You said you were not a Ser, and that means you do not serve the Crown anymore. Now, they could just have dismissed you or given you an honorable retirement, but you are too young for that, so you were most likely expelled. Adding to that the fact that I found you unconscious from a hit in the head, the only plausible conclusion is that you are an outlaw, like me. That means any soldier who serves the King has a right to kill you and get praised for it.”

He does not seem surprised at all at your deduction. Instead, he smiles again, and you are starting to find slightly irritating what once was a warm gesture.

“Darling, if you look around again, you will realize that most of the people here are also outlaws.”

“Don’t call me darling,” you hiss at the same time the food arrives. It does not look appetizing at all, but your stomach growls all the same. You dive in like a madman, barely noticing Hoseok’s slower movements.

“You will purge it all if you keep eating like that.”

You look at him with your mouth full, shrugging before swallowing. You barely breathe between spoonfuls, not tasting the food but relishing the feeling of something filling your stomach, and soon enough your plate is empty and your throat so dry the air can barely filter in. You take a long swing of the large flagon of ale they gave you both, gasping and breathing deeply as the liquid warms up your body from the inside.

Hoseok has not stopped staring all this time, lips parted at your clear desperation as you lean back in satisfaction. His plate is still half full and you have to contain the urge of snatching it from him.

“What?” you ask, half embarrassed. “Don’t judge me, it has been days for me.”

You hate the way his eyes turn sympathetic, looking away as you wait for him to finish his meal. He eats at a leisure pace, and you have a hard time finding an ounce of patience within you, once again deciding to look around as a fraught silence spreads out.

“Will you ever tell me what happened to you?” he finally asks, voice quieter. He smiles again, slowly and tentatively, as if trying to soften the clear tension. “I know it’s been a long time, but I am a good listener.”

You swallow thickly, hating the way you immediately start softening up. The sudden rush of images that swipe past your mind, one more painful than the other, remind you of the words you have tried to follow ever since you found yourself alone in this world — not to trust someone ever again; not even if they were, at some point in your life, a lending hand and a comforting warmth.

Hoseok does not make it easy for you, though. He feels too familiar, too easy to trust, and it is no struggle to lose yourself in a past when he swore to keep you alive. You have to avoid his eyes as you pronounce your following words, low and strained.

“I believe it would be best if we both went our own ways tomorrow, after we got some rest,” you bite your lip, appetite slowly fading. “I have somewhere I need to go, and I am sure you do as well. Let’s not complicate things by telling each other stories.”

Hoseok does not say anything for a while. He nods slowly after a few seconds, acquiring a serious look.

“Well, that did not just make things awkward at all,” he mutters to himself before taking a sip of the ale. You hide a smile behind your hand, looking up when he pushes the ale in your direction. “At least help me drink this entire flagon. I don’t want to wake up with more pain in the head tomorrow.”

You can agree with that, at least. You both drink the smooth liquid in silence, until your senses have numbed down to comfortable levels. You find yourself not entirely drunk but almost there, and it is easy to allow the former knight to overtake the conversation as he mindlessly rants about the types of ales he has tasted and how this one would probably take the last place when it comes to tolerable flavors.

Finally you both leave the hall and walk upstairs, relief flooding your blood at the lack of a confrontation, which tend to be frequent in such shabby taverns. The room is just like you expected it would be — moth-eaten, lifeless and charged with a suspicious scent that you try not to dwell on. You take a seat on the edge of the bed as Hoseok closes the door, hands on his hips as he starts looking around in silence.

“You can have the bed, you know,” you finally say, crossing your arms. The night is finally settling and the cold is starting to seep through the walls, and your dark cloak is no longer a proper cover, as thick as it may be.

“There is something I need to do first. Wait for me,” he suddenly states, brilliant smile on place as he turns around and walks out. You wait in silence, half stunned and half cautious, a million ideas running through your mind as countless dark possibilities start to take shape. He is still part of the Kingsguard. Maybe it is time for me to be caught and get what I deserve—

“Well, that was easy!”

You squeal as he walks inside again and throws something in your direction, heart galloping as you confusedly hold onto the soft bundle. You examine the different fabrics closely, sheepishly discerning the various garments that seem meant for a maidservant. You lift a particularly long dress — it is definitely not as lavish as the ones you owned in your younger years, but it is still soft and thick and perfect for the current weather.

“Where did you get this from?”

“I didn’t want to say anything, but it is easy to tell you are not wearing anything under that cloak,” he points out, smile turning bashful as your skin heats up. “I just walked in the nearest room that had its door unlocked, and looked around. You should keep it.”

“You’re a thief now?” now you are thoroughly surprised — it was definitely not something you expected of Jung Hoseok, someone you always held high when it came to manners and chivalry. He shrugs and you cannot help but smile, holding tighter onto the dress.

“We agreed not to tell each other our stories, so I will not say anything about my… stealing tendencies.”

You scoff at that. “Right. Turn around.”

He rapidly does so, and you momentarily forget about your wariness as you put on the clothes with swift hands. You cover yourself with the cloak again, clearing your throat and allowing him to look in your direction once again. The sizing is not all that right on your body, and for the first time since you met again, you feel unbearably shy under his gaze.

“Thank you for this. And no more favors— at this rate, I will owe you for life.”

Hands on his hips again, he watches you for a few seconds, making you still under his scrutiny. Despite all of your efforts to stay distant, not once has he looked at you in a way that would make you want to run away, and you almost wish he did so — it would make it infinitely easier to hate him, and to forget this reunion ever happened.

“Okay, then. I got it,” he finally says, voice loud and clear. “If you really want to part ways tomorrow, then so be it. I will not force you into telling me why you’re so adamant in keeping your distance, even though I am very curious myself. I would not mind it if you told me, at all—”

“I know,” you interrupt his speech, a small smile curving your lips. The gesture seems to satisfy him, which makes your chest feel slightly warm. “Um. Like I said earlier, you can have the bed. You are the one with an injury in the head.”

“None of that. My head is fine. You take the bed, I can sleep on the floor—”

“I am fine, too, and I told you I don’t want more favors—”

“Let’s share, then.”

The conversation stills. His words hang in the air for a while, and the silence turns them heavier than they should be. Logically, you are aware that his words make sense — the bed is not that nice, but it is wide enough for two people, and if you both sleep on your sides you might not even have to touch each other. Still, it makes you tense up and warms your skin like crackling fire, and the fabric of your clothing feel unusually thicker than before. You need a few seconds before coming back to your senses, quietly nodding once you do.

“Are you sure?” you do not miss the worried tone of his voice, and the need to reassure him is strong as you nod again.

“I don’t want to, but I am too tired to argue, and I am sure you are as well,” you slowly lie down on the side you were sitting on, staying close to the edge of the bed. “I will keep this side. You can sleep on the other.”

“Okay,” he says slowly, clearing his throat as he takes off his boots. He then blows out the one candle of the room, darkening the room almost entirely as the glow of the moon that filters through the muddy window becomes the only source of light. You feel his weight on the bed as he joins you, and his movements are so slow and careful you cannot help but smile, glad he is unable to see your expression as he also keeps to his border of the bed.

“You know,” he starts a few moments later, making you sigh deeply. Here we go. “I couldn’t believe it was you when I first recognized your face. But a question has been on the tip of my tongue ever since I noticed—”

“My scar?” you wonder quietly, words fading into the night.

“Yes. Sorry if it’s an insensitive question—”

“It’s not,” you reply plainly. Finally, he asks something you can explain. “I got it on purpose. People don’t look twice when they see a girl with a huge scar on her face. All they see is an ugly wound, not the face as a whole, and then they avoid eye contact and look everywhere but your eyes. It has helped me hide my identity better.”

It takes Hoseok a while to answer back. “I suppose I understand. But I…” he breathes deeply, and the brief pause in his sentence makes you still, nerves rising as you wait. “I did notice your eyes first, not your scar.”

You start blushing fiercely, and this time it is not out of frustration or mortification. Unsure of what to say, you allow the silence to take over, until the conversation naturally comes to an end and it is too late to form an answer. The tiredness is, fortunately, too strong to keep overthinking the words you could have said but kept inside, and soon enough your consciousness starts fading into nothingness.

Still, you do not miss the way he whispers goodnight into the quiet room, and had you been more awake a tear or two would have probably fallen down your face. It has been too, too long since someone wished you a good night’s sleep.

And for once, you fall asleep not fearing what the rise of dawn might bring.

/

“Rise and shine, my lady. I’ve got a plan.”

You whine loudly, keeping your eyes shut as the rustle of Hoseok’s movements drags you away from what once was a deep sleep. Your limbs have yet to recover from yesterday’s exhausting run, and they sting and throb as you start getting up, blinking slowly as you focus your sight on your surroundings.

The first image you are able to process makes the hairs rise all over your skin. Hoseok is wearing different garments today, ones that look cleaner and newer, and he is currently fixing a dark grey surcoat over his body armor, trusty sword attached to the side of his belt. He looks more of a knight than he did yesterday, even if his stance is more relaxed than it used to be. His short wavy hair has yet to be tamed, which adds to the casual look, and you cannot help but think that this free-man semblance suits him much better.

“I told you I’m no lady,” you yawn, getting up. Next to your bare feet rest a new pair of shoes, looking more resistant than the ones you wore before, and you sigh deeply at the sight. “How much did you steal while I was asleep?”

“Not enough,” he replies, rummaging inside one of his countless pockets. “And I got one more thing for you. Since you insist so much on staying alone, I figured this would come in handy.”

The object he hands you makes you lose your breath. For once you cannot complain about his — stolen — gifts, and your hand is firm and eager as you take the dagger from him. Ever since your last confrontation, which occurred about three sundowns ago, you have felt more vulnerable than ever. Not for your lack of clothes, but for the loss of weapons you always carried and kept you safer than anyone ever would.

The heavy feeling of the dagger between your fingers makes you feel like yourself again, and the former knight seems to notice, curiously staring at the way you grip the handle with a firmness that most highborn ladies would lack.

“You know how to fight?”

You look at him in the eye, giving him a secretive smile. “More or less. Thank you.”

He nods, sighing. “I wish I could hear that story as well. But we need to get moving— like I said before, I have a plan.”

“A plan for…?”

“For getting out of here,” he clarifies, walking towards the door already. Looking over his shoulder, the smirk he gives you lets you know that the day is starting with trouble already — and strangely, you find yourself not minding that much.

He does not tell you his plan, and you decide to follow him blindly unless your instincts force you to run away. You both walk out of the inn with decisive steps, not looking around but fully focused on the exit, and you are about to ask Hoseok if that was the entirety of his ridiculous plan when you see him approaching the horse barn by the inn, freezing in place when he stops next to the horses that eat peacefully.

Two of them are wearing saddle blankets of yellow and grey colors, and your in-depth knowledge of the Kingdoms in Westeros lets you know that it belongs to a highly powerful House — one that is also an ally of the Crown.

“No,” you mutter, pursing your lips as Hoseok gives you an innocent look. He caresses one of the horses and pats his side, beckoning you to come closer with his other hand.

“Come on, they don’t bite.”

“They don’t, but their knights probably do.”

“Their knights are sound asleep,” he says calmly. You approach him with leaden steps, looking around as the paranoia seeps inside your bones. “I checked already. I also locked their doors, just in case they woke up. It will earns us a bit more time.”

“You are insane,” you mumble, pulling the hood over your head. He only smiles, and you scoff under your breath. “And you said I changed.”

“You said you didn’t want to hear my story. All I can offer you right now is a better means of escape than running and hurting your feet,” he pats the horse again, and you stare at the way his tail sways quietly. “Plus, we get to annoy the allies of the King. Isn’t that tempting?”

“…It is.”

His smile turns into a full grin at your resigned expression. “Let’s get started, then. Take the other horse.”

“This is reckless. And foolish. And insane,” you repeat under your breath, pursing your lips as you struggle to mount the knight’s horse. The sensation is odd but not entirely foreign, as riding horses was one of your favorite activities as a child and young adolescent, but you still feel somewhat uncomfortable as Hoseok smoothly gets on his stolen horse and grabs the lead. You do the same, jolting when your horse snorts and lifts his head.

“Don’t worry, you’re a highborn,” he says, already leading the horse out of the barn. “Riding will come easy to you, eventually.”

“Eventually? Now would be better—”

Shrieks of men suddenly reach your ears, and you know you’re done for. Hoseok’s horse immediately sprints forward and start running full speed, and cold fear stiffens your body as you squeeze your hands around the reins and kick the horse’s sides in hasty movements. It works — and you suddenly find yourself with the cold wind hitting your face and your surroundings completely blurred out. All you can see is Hoseok’s back and his horse, which runs at the same frantic pace as yours.  

Faint memories of riding start coming back as you blindly follow him into the forest, gasping as the shouting of men become clear again. You do not dare turn around, knowing it would only sharpen your fear to see actual knights following closely, and the passing of time seems to twist and still as you focus all of your senses on getting out of this alive.

This acute sensation — of blood pumping, of a gaze sharper than ever and a zealous need to survive — is not unfamiliar to you, but that does not mean you have gotten used to it. It is always new and powerful and terrifying, and it makes you feel inherently alive. You cannot deny that it is almost addicting, and you find yourself laughing out loud when an arrow barely misses your horse, noticing the way Hoseok subtly turns to give you an open mouthed smirk.

He is absolutely fearless as he strays from the main path and dives into dangerous directions, of unstable grounds and perilous passages that help you leave the knights behind. You both slow down as you break through thick shrubs, revealing a small clearing and a shallow stream of water that winds itself through the woodland.

You both keep completely quiet, waiting for a long while in silence until you make sure the knights have gone in a different direction. Hoseok jumps off the horse and approaches yours to help you down, and you ignore his hand as you slowly climb down.

“Too many favors?” he asks, following you as you approach the river. You kneel down in front of it and clean your face with its transparent waters, relishing the feeling before sighing deeply.

“Why do you keep helping me so much?” you wonder, not meeting his face. He sits next to you and cleans his face and hair, and your eyes are inevitably drawn to the way the rivulets run down his golden skin.

“And why are you so scared of getting help?”

You have no answer to that. You watch as Hoseok takes out his leather flask and fills it with the water of the river, seemingly pensive as his gaze gets lost within the translucent stream.

You almost jolt when he suddenly turns to you, eyes bright and intent, full with a determination you are not sure you can escape.

“We don’t have to tell each other our past stories, but we can talk about our futures.”

“What do you mean?”

He smiles, gaze flaming with excitement. “I have a mission, and I presume you do as well.”

You nod, carefully, not sure if you like where this conversation is heading.

“My plan is to find the Flame Reapers,” he states, getting up. You look up as you lips part in surprise, heart jumping when you hear that name. “And convince them to join me in my mission to kill Jeon Jungkook.”

You close your eyes at that, feeling the beginnings of a headache pulsing at your temples. “Jungkook?”

“Yes. I have a theory, one I believe is true. You might think I am insane for believing this— but I am most certain dragon shifters exist, and that our dear prince and King-to-be is one of them. I believe he is the Coal Shadow, to be more precise.”

You get up as well, legs shaky and wobbling as you look at him straight in the eye. “That can’t be. The Coal Shadow is the King.”

Hoseok blinks, probably not expecting you to acknowledge the existence of dragon shifters. He has not lost his determination, though — if anything, he seems more enthusiastic now, eyes brimming and thoughts clearly rushing.

“My lady, believe me when I say that it has to be the prince. I saw… things in the Red Keep that confirmed it. That is why I had to stay away when I helped you escape— I needed to see it with my own eyes before leaving myself.”

“And did you? Did you see it?”

“No,” he admits, pursing his lips. “But I saw other things. I am certain. Besides, Jeon Jungkook has fire in his blood, and the King does not.”

You cannot argue with that. It is common knowledge across the country that Jungkook’s blood holds the fire of dragons, which have been seen more frequently ever since he was born. It was not until the prince’s eighteenth birthday that the first sighting of the Coal Shadow came along, and even though you convinced yourself it was the King after you escaped, you never stopped to consider Jungkook could be responsible, too.

“My plan was to go to King’s Landing, and kill the King,” you finally admit, voice quieter than ever. And for once you do not earn loud laughs or looks of pity and disbelief, but rather raised eyebrows and the same determination that has not left his eyes.

“You are willing to kill the King, but you are reticent when it comes to the prince,” he says, making you stiffen. But then his eyes soften and the hint of a genuine smile extends his lips, abating some of the bubbling frustration thickening under your skin. “I understand. There is still some of the old you in there, after all. I wish I had kept a part of myself, too.”

You are unable to form a reply at that. Hoseok sighs loudly, biting his bottom lip before speaking again. “Allow me to propose something. We find the Flame Reapers together, and we convince them to help us get to the prince. If he turns out not to be the Coal Shadow, which I am sure he is, then we can follow your plan. I understand you prefer to be alone, but you have better chances of killing the King if you have our backs, don’t you think?”

You can feel your heart beating strongly under your chest, speeding up with each of Hoseok’s words. “And why do you think the Flame Reapers will join us so easily?”

“Why?” he chuckles, as if the idea entertains him. “Well, they are dragon slayers, aren’t they? A dragon shifter would be their greatest kill. I am sure they will not refuse once they hear our truth.”

You nod, head still pulsing faint tingles of pain. It is too much to process, but at the same time it sounds too simple, too easy — even if the idea of facing Jungkook again terrifies you like no monster ever would. The concept of the Coal Shadow — the largest dragon the country of Westeros has ever seen, as dark as the color of coal and eyes a deep blue like the color of midnight — that has terrified the Seven Kingdoms for ages, related to Jungkook’s gentle eyes and always comforting smile, is too difficult to grasp.

Adding to that the Flame Reapers, a clan that terrifies you to no end and shrinks your heart with just the sound of their name, makes you realize that keeping to yourself is most likely the safest option out of them all.

But Hoseok speaks with honesty, even if you do not allow yourself to fully trust him just yet. Your mother always praised your ability to reveal a man’s lies, and even if it was no more than a mother making her unconfident daughter smile, you still want to believe in Hoseok’s resolute gaze and unwavering will.

It has been too long since you believed in anything, and maybe it is time for a change.

“Okay.”

His eyes widen in surprise, and moments later the widest grin you have ever seen lightens up his entire face. You almost forgot how raw excitement felt like — but here you are, with your skin tingling and blood fizzling, heartbeats rushing for a new purpose and not out of fear.

“Good. Very good,” he says, voice loud as he extends a gloved hand in your direction. You slowly take it, which he shakes earnestly. “We are a team, then. One that doesn’t know each other’s stories, but that’s okay. Most successful teams in Westeros work better that way, don’t they?”

“I guess,” you reply, smiling. He drops your hand and looks in a faraway direction, dark eyes glazing over. “From what I heard, the Flame Reapers were last seen in Dorne, down in the South. It won’t be a long journey, but it won’t be short, either. Are you willing to go through with it?”

“I am not backing down now, not even if I wanted to.”

He laughs at that. Turning in your direction, you both share a look that speaks of a million possibilities, one more wild and heedless and than the other. We might be more alike than I thought, you realize, and that knowledge feels strangely comforting.

“Well, I suppose it is time to go find dragon slayers Min Yoongi, Kim Taehyung and Park Jimin.”

“Let’s just hope they don’t slay us first,” you say, already walking back towards your horse. You rip off the saddle blanket and let it fall to the ground, staring with satisfaction as the colors of the King’s allies get mixed with mud and filth.

And just as you have done everyday ever since your home was destroyed and brought to ashes, you mutter the words that keep your purpose as unshakeable as the red-stone brick walls of the Red Keep, which continue to protect the root of all evil in the Seven Kingdoms — one you hope to tear down, one way or another.

“Out of darkness we bring light.”