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Rain pelts on the castle walls and Hak is awake again.
Yona can tell—the hitch in his breath on an ill-tempered night coming to little surprise; and although it's only rain for the time being, she's aware of how the hushed rustle of running water tends to set him on edge.
She remains still as he lets out a heavy sigh and plants a soft kiss on the back of her head—gently placing a calloused, scarred hand on her shoulder to give him an ever-so-slightly better angle. His eyes flit from the silky sheets to her sleep-lidded form as his thumb gently runs across her skin, his protective gaze a blanket that drapes over her with familiar warmth.
He stays like that for a long moment, until restlessness nips at his limbs and his muscles yearn for a familiar weight.
The blankets shift underneath him as he sits up, and though still half-asleep, Yona listens attentively as he shuffles toward the edge of the bed.
She flinches with the scrape and thud of heavy metal being plucked off of the wall, quickly realizing he's got his glaive in hand. Likely sheathed, but even without its sharp edge, Hak can easily deal a great amount of damage with nothing but blunt force.
A sharp intake of breath when thunder roars and the palace shudders, and Yona takes it as her cue to open her eyes and turn towards him. His back faces her, dim shadows cast by a flickering lantern in the corner sweeping across the walls. He steadily drums his fingers again and again on the weapon in his grasp, and when the sky's outburst descends into a soft rumble, the shadows slump—his shoulders dropping with temporary relief.
"Nothing will get past these walls," she reassures softly, just loud enough to catch his attention.
He doesn’t turn to her, but he stills—remaining motionless as she yawns and sits up, crawling over to him with a murmur. "Not the rain or the waves, or anyone trying to seek out an easy kill. You wouldn't allow it."
"The invading troops…" "They're dead and gone. You brought down a good deal of them."
“…I did."
Yona gives him a bitter smile, setting a firm hand on his back. "You did well.”
He nods slowly, changing his grip on the weapon so that it's propped up and he can hold it comfortably with one hand. “We’re okay. We’re all in one piece.” Yona swings her legs over the edge of the bed, pressing her shoulder to his.
She can’t reason with him now, the best she can do is wait patiently for Hak to come to his senses.
He stares blankly at her, letting the weight of his glaive tilt pensively against the floor.
“We’re okay,” she reiterates, lacing her fingers in between his. “I’m here.”
He turns to face her in the warm light, her violet eyes drowsy and her lips pressed into a worried frown. He revels in her presence, her warmth mingling with his as the rain patters on. He blinks after a long moment, and finally, his pupils dilate–regaining some of their focus as he turns away with a slight nod.
"M' aware," he mutters detachedly, stroking her palm with his thumb. "Just paranoid, I guess."
She gives an empathetic smile, leaning against him and giving his palm a gentle squeeze. "I know. Can’t say I blame you."
"Hm." He acknowledges vaguely, thinking of restless nights when Yona wakes with a pounding heart and tears in her eyes. When the past haunts her and toys with her thoughts, working her into anxious desperation—falling away into an abyss of pounding worry.
One too many injuries and battles and near-death scares takes a hearty toll on the mind, after all.
He caves after a moment of uninterrupted silence, determined to blink past his own discomfort in an attempt to clear the air. "I hope I didn't interrupt your beauty sleep, at the very least."
"Not really, that was all me."
With that, she catches him searching her expression for any sign of uneasiness, and Hiryuu, Yona thinks in a mix of endearment and exasperated worry, Would it kill him to put himself first for once?
“I’m fine, Hak. I’m okay.”
“...Yeah?” “Yeah,” she nods, pulling away to ease her stubborn boulder of a husband into her lap with the gentle force only a concerned queen and wife is capable of. He doesn't exactly relent, but he doesn't push away either—eventually finding himself with his head in Yona's lap, facing the wall and avoiding a slight wince when his glaive makes a short-lived clatter on the floor. He closes his eyes as her hands flutter over his temple, carding through his short hair and threading through loose knots to untangle them.
"...Nightmare?"
He gives a tired hum, knowing he'll be lovingly prodded out of his haven if he doesn't answer. Yona elicits a light huff, gently poking his cheek so that his eyes crack open to peer up at her. “Do you want to talk about it?”
He hesitates, going silent as half-lidded eyes shift their gaze to the darkness that encompasses the room, and he can just make out the silhouette of the door on the wall—the white flickers of lightning seeping through the cracks. "Hak..?" Yona's hands now hover motionlessly over his head as she leans forward, slim fingers still threaded in the stands of his hair as the pitter-patter of steady rain fills the silence.
“I’m alright,” he mumbles into her lap, “it was… disorienting. But it’s gone now.” “Does this help?”
He nods, letting his eyes slide shut with a sigh.
“You can’t stay here all night, princess.”
Yona goes still, brows raised as nostalgia blankets over her for a brisk moment. She shakes out of it soon enough, resuming her mindless fidgeting with his hair.
“It’s been a while since you’ve called me that.”
“Your majesty,” Hak corrects instantly, a soft laugh falling from Yona’s lips. “Forgive me, but the point still stands. We can’t stay here forever.”
“Not forever, but I can stay as long as you need.”
***
Hak drifts, and for a still moment, the water is kind.
It surrounds him, but it’s safe.
It weighs on his body, but he won’t drown.
It fills his lungs, but he can breathe.
A trail of diluted red seeps into the current, and Hak chokes. There’s a body in the water just overhead, limp and adrift, much like he is. It’s familiar, but has no defining features, getting further and further away as it sinks, steadily making its way to the endless bottom. It could be Yoon’s boyish silhouette, Droopy Eyes’ trained body, White Snake’s lithe shape, Shin-Ah’s lean build, Zeno’s lanky frame. It could be Soo-Won. It could be one of the pirates, one of the villagers, it could be Kalgan. It could be her.
It could be Yona .
There’s no concrete way to know for sure. All he sees is that the body is lifeless .
He spurs into action, dragging his arms through the current, the rush and pull of the waves growing more and more powerful, more intense with every stroke. The scent of iron manages to seep through the water—once a deep, alluring blue, now a murky gray. The waves thrash and shove him back as he only tries harder, growing frantic in his desperation.
The body he’d seen before becomes nothing but a bitter memory, muscles aching as he struggles against the current. Old wounds flare with a sharp jolt and at once he’s thrust downwards, the air knocking out of his lungs as the water turns pitch black and the taste of bitter copper fills his mouth.
She’s gone.
Hak reels back into consciousness with a jerk, tearing himself out of the comfort of Yona’s lap.
She gasps, flinching back with eyes wide as Hak runs a hand through his hair, bunching it tightly in his palm as his forehead beads with cold sweat. He swallows thickly, arm resting on his knee as he sits up and leans forward, forcing quick, shallow breaths through his chest.
“Hak..?”
His head snaps towards her, heart pounding in his chest as he all but seizes her, pulling her body into his in a single, fluid movement. Her heart beats just as quickly as his own, but it’s there. Saltwater and iron trade places with soft perfume as he buries his face into the crook of her neck, the sting of water rushing against his skin quickly replaced by a tentative touch.
Yona lets him rest there, brushing one hand along the nape of his neck and using the other to rub gentle circles on his back, holding him tight against her chest. “Hak… what’s wrong?”
He lets go, limbs still heavy with sleep as he pulls away with half-lidded eyes.
"...Talk to me, please?"
He grunts in a rather stand-offish reply—removing himself from her grasp as Yona's eyes narrow, reaching out to grab a fistful of his clothes. "You- Hak."
He gives her a furtive glance, soft and weary as she slowly unhooks her fingers from his sleeve, letting him reach down to pluck his glaive off of the floor. He sets it upright with a firm thud, using it to pull himself up and swaying on his feet as he stretches out a hand for her to take.
"Thunder's gone."
Her slender hand reluctantly finds his, quickly enveloped in the warmth of his palm as he waits for her to join him. "It's not loud anymore.”
Yona nods, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.
“I'm hungry."
"What?” Yona blinks, caught off guard. “You...you are?"
"A midnight patrol doesn't sound bad either." He asserts, leading her forward without so much as a slight glance. "Wait- Wait, hold on!" Yona stops him, yanking him back before he can pull the doors open. His glaive scrapes against the floor and he steps back, as if he's just narrowly avoided an awkward stumble.
"I know what you're doing.
"Please, even if it's hard… you know. You shouldn’t avoid it—bottle it up like this.” She reaches up to cup his face, and her hands run from the corners of his mouth to the line of his jaw, down to where his shoulders meet his neck. She leans up on her toes, relying on steady balance to have her nose brush against his as she kisses him softly. The stiffness in his shoulders melts at her touch, and he pulls her a little closer, gently pressing his hands along the delicate curves of her frame.
When Yona steps away, she’s satisfied to come face to face with deep cobalt eyes that are now a little wider, a little more awake than they were the first time. She gives him a soft smile, and Hak sighs, wordlessly pressing his forehead against hers.
His frantic breath has finally mellowed out and now matches her own; she can hear it clearly now in the absence of the dreaded crackling in the sky, in the dulled echo of the rain that slows to a steady drizzle as his eyes close and he wraps his arms around her.
“Love,” she murmurs, wisps of persistent worry clinging to her breath. “You have to tell me what's going on in your mind."
He runs his hands along her arms, kisses the top of her head and pulls away, doors opening with a soft groan as he steps forward onto a lantern-lit path. Yona bites the inside of her cheek with a frown, silently wondering if she’s been a little too persistent.
Much to her dismay, he shakes his head. "I don’t… I will, " he assures her, cutting her off before she can protest. "Just… later."
She stares him down, a sigh falling from her lips after a long moment.
"...Alright. But you promise you’ll tell me?” “Yes.”
“And you’ll say something if it gets worse?" He bows his head earnestly, humbly aware that there’s no getting out of this now.
"...Yes. I promise."
"Good,” she nods, reaching up with her free hand to tilt his chin upwards with a soft touch. “And please, don't bow your head like that," she murmurs, "I'd like to see your face." Hak chuckles softly, the ghost of a tease left unsaid as he pulls her hand to his mouth, kissing her knuckles and lingering just long enough for her to brush a thumb across his lips.
He offers his arm and she takes it as they make their way around the palace, pressed side by side, Hak's glaive held sure in a steady hand.
“Your Majesties!” A guard calls out, a number of them stationed just around the corner along the palace walls. “You’re out late, on such a horrible night too.” The man notices, rising from a low bow. “Should I send for one of the servants?”
“That’s alright, thank you,” Yona smiles, tugging Hak along. “We’re just out for a short walk.” “Right…” He nods, cautiously eyeing the King and his glaive. “Well, have a good night then.” He nods, quickly returning to his post as the Crimson Dragon Queen and the Thunder Beast of Kouka continue on their way.
Lanterns flicker with the shadows caused by a humid breeze as they walk under the awning that stretches around the palace exterior, safeguarding them from the sky. They make it to an open section of the building, and Hak sets his arm over the Queen's shoulders to guard her from the cold.
The dark clouds covering the sky give a warning rumble before the air goes still, a burst of anxiety panging in Yona’s chest at the split-second of unsettling silence.
“Let’s go back,” she whispers, swallowing thickly and looking up at her husband. “Something’s not right.”
Hak opens his mouth to respond, barely getting past the first two syllables.
The sky erupts with a shriek.
Blinding light explodes and slices through the air, sending feathery chills down their spines. It targets and scatters at a distance considered much, much too close for comfort, as pure instinct drives Hak yank his wife into him with a sharp tug, jumping back to shield her. Her hands fly to her ears and his eyes grow wide, heart leaping into his throat as they both cry out, the sudden bolt of lightning leaving them dumbstruck; labored breaths and narrowly evaded fire and injury being all that's left.
The sky roars.
It's angry and bitter as the earth cowers from the wrath amongst the clouds, loose tiles trembling and the castle walls vibrating with the aftermath of the sound. Yona barely gets the chance to ask what in Hiryuu's name just happened, when Hak wordlessly grabs her hand, and he runs.
"The thunder's gone. It's not loud anymore."
She knows not to trust the changing weather. She knows to rightfully mistrust the temper above the clouds. She knows that despite it all, there's a stubborn want to prove himself, to show her that he's gotten better, to prove to himself that can overcome the rain. Yet his breath picks up and hitches unevenly with every step, Yona all too aware of it as she's practically dragged behind him, her pace failing in a desperate attempt to match his.
"Hak, stop! Stop, you're-!" Yona tries to slow down, hoping he'll notice and slow down with her. "You're going to pass out before we get anywhere-! Just- Stop-!!" She yelps, almost tripping over herself as he continues to run with her in a firm, reckless tow. She glances around frantically—eyes wide as a heavy droplet of water lands on her face, and then another, and another.
Yona fights the panicked urge to curse the stubbornness of her husband, the headstrongness that convinced her to let him go out at night in weather like this. She tries to grab his attention, and, unable to find any other solution, pulls him back as she plants her heels into a firm stop. He lets go of her hand and stumbles forward, glaive tumbling out of his grasp even as he manages to stay on his feet. She’s quick to pick herself up, scrambling towards him, placing firm hands on his shoulders and giving them a good shake. "Hak! Hak, it's me- it was just lightning, and the rain is starting back up again but I'm here, I'm right here-"
“You need to be inside,” Hak pants, deaf to anything but the rain. “You’re- I need to get you inside. High ground. Where it’s safe -”
Yona replies quickly, something frantic and reassuring that doesn’t make it past the ringing that crescendos in his ears with every clamor from the sky, as his body weighs down with the water that clings to his robes. He turns on his heel, wild eyes searching for the nearest door.
His muscles ache and sting with the ghosts of old wounds, head spinning as he chokes on air. The water pouring from the sky drowns him, the dark of the night swallowing him whole as he loses touch with the present—left with the sinking ache in his soul of being unsure, unknowing, unable to keep her safe. The erratic rise and fall of his chest stutters as he claws at it, water filling his lungs when he fails to take in a single, proper, breath.
Death penetrates through every ounce of pitch black water as the waves take innocent lives. The people Hak loves are in danger. They’re dying. Yona is dying, the dragons and Yoon and the village are all gone and Hak is useless. Too much is going on, and none of it seems capable of stopping.
A gentle touch brushes against his skin, and it burns .
He reels back as though a sword has pierced through his flesh, as though stray debris has slammed into his body.
“Hak are you hurt?!”
A shrill cry cuts through the cotton in his ears as the touch returns, but this time, he doesn’t flinch away. Panicked sputtering taps through to his consciousness, and then there’s that same touch, shaking him harshly, running through his hair and pressed against the sides of his head, desperately begging for him to react. “It’s okay, you can breathe!”
Her voice. Water surrounds him, but he finds her voice.
"For the love of Hiryuu, breathe-!!”
He does.
Hak coughs heavily, finally taking in a sharp gulp of air. He flinches, head snapping towards the quake of rolling thunder as his body tenses with what he knows is irrational fear. "Princess," he chokes out with lost eyes, heaving breaths short and uneven. " Princess."
“Yes, yes! I’m here, I’m right here. I’m okay, we’re okay-” The wind blows, sprinkling droplets of rain onto his face as he involuntarily shudders. Yona reaches up, cupping her hands around his ears and pulling his gaze towards her—reminiscent of a memory, fragments of that strange night so long ago. "Hak, look. Look at me, okay?" Finding her violet eyes amidst a flicker of red, he steadies.
He lowers his head again with an exhausted groan, shoulders taut and fists desperately reaching out, tangling in the soaked clumps of Yona's hair. "You were in danger," he whispers harshly, the words carrying too much self-resentment as they fall from his lips, "you, everyone was… and I was useless and I just-"
"Hak…"
"-it won’t stop ."
She takes his hands, pressing them over the line of her jaw to hold her face, keeping them there and holding his gaze with steady reassurance. “Out of sight, out of mind, right?” He nods absently, pushing past the sensation of water dripping down his face to the warmth held in his hands, the delicate touch that holds them in place, that distracts from the weight settled over him.
“You’re here-” “I am. I’m here and nothing will take me from you. Not even the gods and you know damn well they tried.” Yona shivers, desperately pressing her forehead to his as the rain seeps through her clothes and the clouds shudder yet again.
Hak closes his eyes with a soft grimace and Yona squeezes his hands, taking a tentative step back. “Okay. H-Here’s what we’re going to do. We need to get inside, now. We’re going to find the first set of doors, and we’re going to get you dry.”
The queen takes a steady breath, bringing her hands to his forearms.
“We’re going to move now, okay?”
Hak shifts, steadying his weight with a curt nod as Yona takes his hands, leading him through the rain. Her pace is brisk but steady as she searches for the nearest entrance, uncaring of where it might lead. While she manages to get him out of the weather and underneath the awning again, it proves difficult to find a way in.
A sliver of warm, solid light cuts through the inconsistent glow of dim, flickering lanterns, seeping out from underneath a section of the palace walls.
“ Finally!” Yona breathes, forcing her way in and yanking her husband in with her. She’s quick to shut the door behind them and takes a moment to press her head against it, letting out a relieved sigh.
"Yona dear?"
She turns quickly, shock relaxing into a stifled giggle at the sight before her.
The room is lit by lanterns and warm candlelight—Yoon at the stove, a book and various notes scattered to his far left as he adds something to a steaming pot, Jae-Ha and Kija conversing over a counter and a bottle of sake—more for Jae-Ha than anyone else—and Zeno and Shin-Ah sitting on the floor, towels draped over their heads. They look rather caught with a small pile of red, yellow, and green peppers of all things, in a small bowl in-between them. Ao peeks out of said bowl, an orange pepper held in her tiny paws with a considerable bite mark straight through the middle.
"...They're sweet." Shin-Ah murmurs in their defense, having noticed Yona's lingering eyes. "We were hungry. Ao too," Zeno hums, stuffing a yellow pepper into his mouth and vaguely motioning towards Yoon. "Y’n's making shoup, and I found these oe'r there, shomewhere."
"Don't talk with your mouth full, you’ll choke." Yoon chastises, eyes narrowing at him as he gives a knowing shake of his head. "'Yes, Yoon." "Don't roll your eyes at me. I don't think we're supposed to be eating this anyways."
"Oh no, no, please. Eat as much as you'd like- but, erm… Yoon! Will you hand me one of those towels—something dry, please?" She keeps a tight hold on her husband's hand, hanging limply by his side as he looks around aimlessly, struggling to process blessed reality.
"You're all…" Hak breathes, shoulders slumping as he finds them all, safe and alive and well under the warm light of the room. "You're here. "
Jae-Ha sets down his drink.
Shin-Ah eyes him warily, brows knitting with concern as Yoon drops the ladle into the pot, barely giving it a second glance as he quickly wipes his hands off and realization sets in.
"Idiots," he huffs exasperatedly, keeping an eye on them as Yona tugs Hak forward. "What are you doing out on a night like this?" "It's complicated… but you likely have a vague idea." Yoon gives her a sympathetic wince, pulling out two dish towels and handing them to Yona. "I'll go get something to properly dry you both off, but here's this for now. I'll be back in a minute."
He sprints off into the corridor, the echo of his footsteps tapping through the silence and the gentle bubbling of the pot left cooking.
"Hak,” Kija starts gently, turning away from the door that clicks shut behind him. “Are you alright?"
“It’s…I…”
“No.” Yona answers for him, earning herself an exhausted glare. “You’re not.”
She reaches up to drape the cloth over his head—ruffling the water out of his hair to the best of her ability. “Come on,” she lowers to her knees, easing him down with her as he offers nothing but a confused, mildly irritated look. “Just take a minute, we’re all here, see?” “But it’s-”
Tiny paws scramble up his sleeve, soft fur nuzzling against his cheek and suddenly, there’s a hand on his shoulder.
The warmth of a body presses against his right side as Shin-Ah silently wraps his arms around him, another squeezing in next to the Blue Dragon—Zeno, of course. Kija doesn’t take long to sprint over as Yona presses against his chest, and feeling both the obligation of the eldest brother and a fondness for his family, Jae-Ha doesn't hesitate in joining in himself.
“You…” “We’re alive, see?” Yona grins, turning to a more comfortable spot and planting a kiss on his cheek. “You don’t have to worry about me or anyone else. We’re all here, safe and sound.”
For a moment, Hak rests.
He starts to mumble an apology—something about losing focus and being lost in his thoughts before Jae-Ha cuts him off in a manner considered anything but rude.
"Sometimes hearing the same thing, even if it's for the millionth time, is just as necessary as hearing it for the first."
With a slow blink, he turns away, returning to the notion of doing nothing but the bare minimum.
He does nothing but exist.
His skin is cold and his hair is damp, but he can hardly focus on the discomfort. He’s enveloped in the warmth of familiar touch, the ringing in his ears quelled by soft murmurs and hissed whispers as the bodies around him shift and breathe and rest against one another, against him. He finds a glimpse of clarity, clinging to it as he spares Yona a soft glance.
“We’re…” He tilts his head forward, the now soaked dishcloth sliding off his head. “We’re getting you all wet…” “Clothes dry,” Zeno hums, meeting his distant gaze with a grin. “Shin-Ah and I were caught in the rain too.”
“ What on earth-?”
Hak slowly turns to the entrance as Yoon makes his way in, peering over an armful of soft fabric. “I can't leave you all unsupervised for two minutes. You’re all grown adults.” He sighs, using his foot to close the door behind him as he warily eyes the pot on the stove.
“Did you raid the laundry?”
“I brought dry clothes and blankets, I knew you lot would get clingy.” The boy rolls his eyes before stumbling forward, dropping everything as he’s pulled into a pile of tangled limbs and warm bodies with a yelp.
“Jae-Ha-!” “Join us Yoon!” The green dragon snickers, watching as Zeno is quick to drag him further in.
“Zeno, let me go.” “No.” Shin-Ah chimes in, making an effort to grab onto his sleeve with a soft grin. “Shin-Ah…” Yoon groans, slight guilt tainting his conscience as he gently tugs his arm away to try and shove Zeno off of him. “I need to get up.” “But we're comfortable .” “But the pot is going to bubble over,” Yoon points out, Zeno's eyes narrowing to judge whether it's a valid reason to let go of him or not.
“I still need to get these two out of their wet clothes as well,” he mutters, glancing towards Hak and Yona with a sigh. “You didn’t like being in damp clothes either.”
“… Alright.” He finally concedes, letting go and giving Yoon a gentle nudge towards the discarded laundry. “The food is for Zeno, yes?”
“Not a drop.” “Not even one ?” “Ah, I wouldn’t worry, Zeno,” Kija grins, looking towards the boy genius with a knowing look. “Yoon is much too good to let his children starve.”
“Ah! Kija’s right, he’s right.” “You are not my children.” “But mother, you raised us! ” “Oh, be quiet.” Yoon’s eyes narrow, giving them a stern glare as he pushes himself off the floor, crouching down to search through the discarded pile of fabric. “Stupid beasts.”
“So are we motherless beasts or not?” “I said be quiet.”
Soon enough, the boy pulls out a pair of clothes, brushing them off before holding them out to Hak and Yona. “They're basic robes—I’m pretty sure they belong to the servants—but they’re dry and comfortable. These should fit you.” Yona beams, pulling herself to her feet and tugging at Hak’s arm. He easily relents, quickly glancing back to watch as the dragons—having been propped up against him—teeter over, slumping to the floor rather dramatically.
“Aweeee…” “I was just getting comfortable,” the white dragon sighs, forced to lean against Jae-Ha. “Well,” the green dragon starts, his head resting against Shin-Ah’s back, “we can’t be the reason both King and Queen catch a cold now, can we?”
“Never!” Kija gasps as Shin-Ah shakes his head with a slight pout, draped over Zeno. The yellow dragon gives a breathy laugh, strained as he pats at Kija’s leg.
“Th-They’re squashing me- Hakury-”
All four dragons freeze, Zeno quickly falling silent.
“Crush him.”
“WAIT-”
Zeno yelps as he’s pinned down, eyes wide as he shoves at the dragons piling on top of him—minding the squirrel firmly latched onto his head. “I FORGET! ZENO-” “SAY MY NAME.” Kija demands. “I-” “SAY IT!”
“MOTHER-”
“You’re on your own.” Yoon shrugs, ushering Hak and Yona to go change somewhere more private, his lecturing, Kija’s prodding and Zeno’s desperate pleas drowning out behind closed doors.
Yona’s eyes linger on them for a moment, her chest warm and tight.
“After everything… It’s strange.”
Her attention snaps towards Hak, eyes wide as she watches him turn away from the doors, a small, but fond smile pulling at his lips.
“Nothing feels… real.”
She sets down the bundle of clothes and towels and steps towards him, fingers lacing around the hem of his damp robe. “It is,” she breathes, using one hand to cup the side of his face. He leans into her touch with a slow exhale, carefully analyzing her every feature in the dim light.
“It is.”
***
Once in dry clothes, Yona finds herself back on the kitchen floor, sitting in Hak’s lap as Yoon serves up bowls of thick broth—carefully handled and placed on a tray with spoons and napkins, lest anyone get careless.
“I would’ve thought you’d force us to sit at a table,” Jae-Ha points out as Yoon snorts, taking one look at the group seated on the floor with a raised brow. “I would, but I don’t think that’s going to happen. Just don’t spill on yourselves or each other, it’s hot and I don’t feel like treating burns tonight.”
“What are you all doing here anyways?” Yona asks, slumping against Hak’s chest as she spares a glance at the group before her—having shifted into some sort of circle formation as though they were out in the wilderness again, huddling around a campfire and preparing for the cold the dark of night often brings. Blankets and shut doors are more than enough to ward it off, but she finds it’s irrelevant—especially to the comfort sought out in nostalgia and familiarity.
“Well, Zeno somehow managed to sense Yoon in here-” “I could smell delicious food all the way from my room!” “-Shin-Ah followed, Kija followed, and then I went after them to make sure no one got up to anything naughty.”
“You make us sound dirty, Jae-Ha,” Kija groans.
“All I meant is you three tend to get rather involved in mischief.”
Yona giggles, letting Ao take a chunk of vegetable off her spoon before scampering back to Shin-Ah’s side. “...So how did Shin-Ah and Zeno end up in the rain?”
Jae-Ha grins, a light smile teasing at Kija’s lips as he turns away to hide a choked laugh.
“Zeno… may have gotten lost.”
“Lost.”
“...Yes.” “Lost.” Yona repeats, amusement coloring her voice. “How did you…?” “The palace is different from how I remembered it,” the yellow dragon admits sheepishly, hiding behind a mouthful of soup. “Shin-Ah and Ao had to rescue me from the courtyard.”
“That’s when I started getting suspicious,” Kija sighs, “honestly, you’d been wandering for so long I thought for sure you’d been fried by lightning.”
Hak inhales sharply, Yona’s eyes growing wide.
“Well… funny story, actually-”
“EXCUSE ME? ”
“WHAT?!”
“WHY DIDN'T YOU SAY ANYTHING EARLIER?!” Yoon slams his materials on the counter, eyes wide and panicked as he rushes over, searching them for injuries. “YONA. DO I HAVE TO TREAT BURNS TONIGHT?? YONA.”
“Relax, we’re fine. It was close, but it didn’t hit us.” Hak drawls, watching as Yoon deflates and the dragons slump back with relief. “Just… caught us off guard,” he sighs, resting his chin on top of Yona’s head and minding the half-emptied bowl set down next to him.
Yoon gives them a skeptical look, lips pursing into a straight line as he pulls himself upright, running a hand through his hair. “The least you could do is start with that next time. Spare me the heart attack, will you?” He grumbles, Yona turning towards the gentle shuffling beside her to find Shin-Ah tugging at Hak’s sleeve, golden eyes furrowed. “Are you..?”
“We’re alright,” He reassures, patting his shoulder with a soft smile. “I’m fine now.”
As soon as the words leave his mouth, the blue dragon lets go of his sleeve, turning to the Queen.
“Yona?”
“We’re blocking out the storm, for the most part at least,” she nods, setting down her own bowl and tugging Hak’s hand into her lap. “He should be okay.” “You know, I can speak for myself-”
Yona is quick to raise an eyebrow, Hak’s jaw clicking shut.
“Alright, well. I’m working on it.”
Yona smiles, pressing a kiss against his knuckles. She places his hand over her heart, leaning against Hak’s shoulder and looking up to find his eyes. “You feel that?” He nods with a soft hum. “I do.”
“It means I love you.”
“...Yeah?” “Mhm.” A soft grin pulls at his lips, and he presses a kiss to the top of her head.
“I love you too.”
***
“Oh, Hak~ You hopeless romantic.” “It. Was one. Kiss.”
“Jae-Ha, don’t tease Hak! He’s easily flustered, you know.” Kija grins menacingly, Shin-Ah joining in with a soft laugh. “He’s turning red.” “Is he? Let me see!”
“I am not!” “If Shin-Ah said it then it must be true!”
“Hak and Yona sitting in a tree~” Zeno sings-songs, bursting into a fit of laughter when Hak shoves him away.
“Flirting with her majesty, the queen??” Jae-Ha continues, putting up a scandalized facade. “She’s my wife?!” “The audacity!!!”
“Yoon. Your children are out of line, ground them already!” “Yoon is too good of a mother to punish his children over such trivial quarrels.”
“A bit of teasing builds character. You’ll live. Besides, this is really improper of you, you know. Especially with her being a married woman and all.” “Yoon, she’s married to me .”
Ao drapes over his shoulder, mindlessly nibbling at his clothes.
“Exactly. She’s married.”
Hak groans, dragging a hand down his face to hide the amused smile spreading across his lips as Yona laughs, a red flush coloring her cheeks as she holds her sides and leans back against his chest.
“I hate you all.”