_________
Lucina
How Can You Laugh?
"PFFT!"
I covered my mouth, a giddy giggle escaping me. Hakan looked utterly ridiculous, sitting there on the bed, his brow furrowed in a mock-serious expression.
"HOW CAN YOU LAUGH RIGHT NOW?! I'M STRUGGLING TO HOLD BACK HERE!" he grumbled, though the corner of his lips betrayed him with a twitch of amusement. He had this enormous, muscled body, a fearsome reputation, and a tribal tattoo marking his chest like a battle flag—and yet, here he was, pulling a face so utterly absurd it made my chest ache with suppressed laughter.
"Haha…" I finally managed, leaning back a little, letting out a soft chuckle. "I'M STRUGGLING TO HOLD BACK HERE!" I mimicked him under my breath. The tension of the day—of my life, really—lifted, replaced by this fleeting, domestic silliness.
And then… his dark eyes snapped to mine, intensity flaring. "SQUEEZE," was all I could think as his hand suddenly closed over mine, firm and possessive. My heart lurched, a simultaneous thrill and fear. His face, so near, shadowed and mesmerizing, stole my breath.
HUFF HUFF
His heavy breathing was the only sound. My eyes widened in shock, not just at the sudden closeness, but at the raw, burning emotion in those dark eyes. This man—my King, my Hakan—was at once terrifying and intoxicating.
---
Meanwhile
The air shifted, dark and conspiratorial. I—or rather, the shadows of someone plotting against me—felt the presence of scheming magic around us.
"...What are you doing?" a cautious voice asked, eyes following Giaret as she sat with calm ruthlessness, her dark hair falling around her like a curtain.
"I have a plan, Giaret," she replied, a glimmer of cold determination in her tone.
"It would be too dangerous to use this spell when Hakan and Lucina are together," the other woman said, her voice tinged with worry.
But Giaret's gaze had already hardened, her eyes narrowing as a twisted vision of the two lovers hovered before her mind's eye. "It would be too dangerous… she might get hurt."
Yet the darkness of her intent had already taken root. "But if there's a way I can make Lucina fear Hakan… without putting her in harm's way, then…" Her voice faltered, hanging on the precipice of a dangerous promise.
"If I lose…" The thought remained unspoken, yet its weight pressed down like an iron shroud over the room.
---
Hakan…?
The shadows swallowed everything else. A small, distressed sound escaped me as I blinked, staring up at Hakan—or perhaps the way he looked at me, tiny and terrified, a stark contrast to his usual imposing figure. His wide eyes, panic-stricken, reflected a rare vulnerability.
"I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE! SPRING!" he cried, the intensity of his outburst shaking the space between us.
The scene blurred, fading to white, leaving only one word suspended in the emptiness—a whisper of hope, dread, and anticipation all at once:
"HAKAN…?"
---
They were plotting again. I couldn't fully see them, but I could feel it—the intent to fracture, to turn love into fear. Dark magic swirled in fragments of thought, conspiratorial voices murmuring around me like an unwelcome fog.
A voice, cold and unwavering, pierced the haze. "I have a plan, Giaret."
The initial spell had been too weak, too risky, or perhaps both. The caution in the other's voice rang loud: "It would be too dangerous to use this spell when Hakan and Lucina are together… she might get hurt."
But Giaret's resolve was undeterred. "But if there's a way I can make Lucina fear Hakan… without putting her in harm's way, then…"
The pause that followed carried the weight of desperation, and then came the silent, unspoken threat: "If I lose…"
---
(Third-Person Perspective)
Giaret's companion knelt by her side, calm and calculating. "If you lose consciousness, the effects of the spell will break," he explained, his voice quiet but firm. "Repeated failure could allow him to remember the illusions, like Adar."
"So what?" Giaret asked, eyes narrowing. "Why don't we try a different method?"
Her companion, Lebron—Hakan's half-brother—stepped closer, dark footsteps echoing on the cold stone floor. He presented a rough, dark object. "This is a candle made from my blood."
Giaret's fingers trembled as she held it, the sinister possibility dawning in her mind. "If I use this, the effects of my spell won't break, even if I lose consciousness," she whispered.
"Why didn't we use this before?" Her voice was heavy with regret, time wasted haunting her.
Lebron leaned closer, whispering the final, forbidden instructions for the spell. Giaret's mouth curved into a cruel smile. The terror she intended to unleash was near, inevitable.
---
A chill ran through me. The warmth of Hakan's presence seemed to vanish as the shadow of this new magic loomed. I sensed it—a permanent, blood-bound spell, designed to make me see the man I loved as a source of fear.
The thought was almost unbearable. Something dark, something irreversible was coming. I needed to act, to escape the shadow before the final spell took hold.
---
I sat on the luxurious couch, holding the tiny, winged figure of the spirit—my little companion—in my lap. The topic of conversation was both ridiculous and heartbreaking.
"SO HE WRAPPED HIMSELF IN CHAINS BEFORE HE ALLOWED HIMSELF TO SLEEP NEXT TO YOU?" the spirit asked, perched near the window, his voice far too serious for such an absurd question.
I traced the fabric of my dress, a small, sad smile on my face. "HE SAID IT WAS THE ONLY WAY HE COULD FEEL SAFE…"
Safe from what? Safe from his own strength, from the power he feared might hurt me if he lost control while he slept. The image of Hakan, the fierce Dragon King, binding himself in cold metal just to lie beside me, was agonizing.
The spirit tumbled backward onto the cushions—ROLL ROLL—his frustration evident. "HAHAHA!" he laughed, but it wasn't joy. It was the sound of disbelief.
He rolled again, landing upright. "BUT ARE YOU TWO… SERIOUSLY NOT GOING TO DO ANYTHING FOR TWO MONTHS?"
I knew what he meant. "I THOUGHT YOU WANTED TO BEAR HIM A CHILD?" he pressed.
"HUH? OF COURSE I DO," I replied, feeling a flush creep up my neck. "BUT I HAVE TO WAIT UNTIL MY BODY RECOVERS FIRST. I MIGHT HAVE THE ABILITY TO HEAL, BUT IT SEEMS LIKE THE ENERGY INSIDE MY BODY IS WEAK." My internal struggle was a secret burden.
The spirit munched on something unseen—MUNCH MUNCH MUNCH—before offering a bizarre diagnosis. "IT ONLY LOOKS WEAK TO THEM BECAUSE YOU POSSESS EARTH ENERGY." He looked directly at me.
"WHAT?" I whispered.
"I'M SAYING THAT CARRYING A CHILD WITH FIRE ENERGY IN YOUR WOMB WILL BALANCE OUT THE ENERGY IN YOUR BODY. THEN YOU JUST HAVE TO EAT WELL…"
I stared at him, dumbfounded. A child, a dragon's child, wasn't just a desire—it was a miraculous cure for my earth energy weakness.
Meanwhile, the darkness deepened elsewhere.
"I have a plan, Giaret," a cold voice said, addressing the woman sitting with her on the floor.
Giaret's companion explained the flaw in her current enchantment. "IF I LOSE CONSCIOUSNESS, THE EFFECTS OF THIS SPELL WILL BREAK. IF THAT HAPPENS MULTIPLE TIMES, THERE'S A HIGH CHANCE HE WILL REMEMBER THE ILLUSIONS, JUST LIKE ADAR DID."
The man, Lebron, towered over her, his expression intense. "SO WHAT? WHY DON'T WE TRY USING A DIFFERENT METHOD?" he challenged.
Giaret looked up, her mind racing for a loophole, a way to permanently sever me from Hakan. "LIKE WHAT?"
He produced a dark, crude-looking object, like a hardened lump of wax or clay. "THIS IS A CANDLE THAT I MADE USING MY BLOOD." He leaned down—LEAN—his eyes gleaming with cruel ambition.
A look of shocked realization, then pure malignant joy, spread across Giaret's face. "IF I USE THIS," she breathed, clutching the horrific object, "THE EFFECTS OF MY SPELL WON'T BREAK EVEN IF I LOSE CONSCIOUSNESS."
She was immediately furious at the wasted time. "WHY DIDN'T WE USE THIS BEFORE?"
He bent his head, obscuring his words in a low, sinister instruction—WHISPER—about how to fully activate the blood candle's power. Giaret's smile was a promise of destruction. "ARE YOU SERIOUS?" she whispered back, the shadow of dark magic swirling around her, confirming the terrible power she now held.
The plan was set. I was not safe. The chains Hakan used to bind himself were nothing compared to the chains of fear Giaret was preparing to bind me with.
"I'M SAYING THAT CARRYING A CHILD WITH FIRE ENERGY IN YOUR WOMB WILL BALANCE OUT THE ENERGY IN YOUR BODY. THEN YOU JUST HAVE TO EAT WELL…" the little spirit continued, munching—MUNCH MUNCH MUNCH—his eyes serious.
I stared at him, my mind reeling. A child, a dragon's child, wasn't just a desire; it was a miraculous cure.
"But they told me my life could be in danger if I bear a dragon's child!" I whispered, fear creeping into my voice.
The spirit waved a dismissive hand. "That only applies to average humans, not you. However, you won't be able to use your healing power while you are pregnant. It will all be used up to protect you… from the fire energy produced by the baby."
He looked at me, his huge green eyes serious. "Do you still want to bear his child even if it means you'll lose the ability to heal?"
My heart stuttered, but the answer was immediate. "Will I get my power back once I've given birth?"
"OF COURSE," he confirmed. "And it will help deal with any effects of malnutrition."
The overwhelming relief and clarity hit me like a physical force. "REALLY?! WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME THIS SOONER?!" I shouted, raising my hands in exasperated joy, making him jump back in panic—SHOUT.
I couldn't waste another second. The waiting, the fear of my weak energy, the chains Hakan used to keep me safe—it all felt unnecessary now.
"I HAVE TO TELL HAKAN! WE DON'T NEED TO WAIT UNTIL I'VE TAKEN THE MEDICINE!" A rush of excitement and determination flowed through me—RUSH. "I can bear his child because of my healing power! HE DOESN'T NEED TO WORRY ABOUT ANYTHING!"
I was going to find him, tell him the truth, and banish the fear that separated us.
I moved toward the door, feeling lighter and more powerful than I had in weeks. But just as I reached the archway, a cold draft of dark magic snaked past me, carrying an echo of Giaret's voice:
"...IF I USE THIS, THE EFFECTS OF MY SPELL WON'T BREAK EVEN IF I LOSE CONSCIOUSNESS… WHY DIDN'T WE USE THIS BEFORE?"
Her words, and the malevolent smile that followed, were a chilling counterpoint to my hope. They were using the blood candle, a permanent solution to plant fear, and they were ready to unleash it now.
My heart hammered. I had to reach Hakan now. Before the miracle that could save us both was overshadowed by the fear that could destroy us forever.
The joy of my revelation was electrifying. I rushed down the hall—RUSH—eager to tell Hakan that the wait was over, that my healing power meant I could bear his child safely and that he didn't need to worry about anything. I could feel the chains of his self-imposed restraint loosening in my mind.
But as I burst into his chamber, the air was thick with a heavy, sickly-sweet floral scent, mingled with something acrid and strange.
Hakan was in the room, taking a dose of medicine.
"Your Majesty, I've brought the medicine sent by the cleric," one of the servants said, giving a sharp nod.
I heard him think: Now that I've taken the medicine to suppress my fire energy, I should find it easier to hold back tonight.
Then, another woman entered, her gaze on the ground, carrying a vase of pink flowers and a single, dark candle. She was one of Giaret's spies.
"Turan suggested that you decorate your bedroom…" she began.
Hakan, kneeling and shirtless, his incredible physique on display, looked up. "What's that?" he asked.
The spy smiled innocently. "Since Lucina will be visiting frequently, I brought some flowers and a candle."
My blood ran cold. The candle. I had heard the whispers: a candle made with blood, a permanent spell that wouldn't break even if the caster lost consciousness. They were using it right now, here, to trap me.
Hakan didn't suspect a thing. He looked pleased, thinking the decoration was thoughtful. "Alright, good job," he said, nodding. "You're pretty useful at times like this, Turan."
The servant placed the dark, menacing candle on the table beside him. Hakan, oblivious to the danger, took the small cup of medicine—GULP—suppressing his power just as the magic began to saturate the room.
"Good night, Your Majesty," the servant said, bowing as she backed out, closing the door—CREAK, CLICK.
Hakan sat there, radiating raw, suppressed power, now focused on the flowers. I hope Lucina likes the flowers, he thought, his eyes soft, oblivious to the terrifying plot surrounding him.
I was trapped. The air was thick with the scent of a permanent, fear-inducing spell, designed to make me see the man I loved as a monster. The medicine he took to protect me only made him more vulnerable to the illusion. My heart pounded against my ribs. I was here—but in the next moment, would I see the warm, loving Hakan, or the terrifying monster the magic wanted me to see?
The final spell had been cast.
The servant closed the door with a final, heavy CLICK.
I stood in the doorway, breathing in the sweet, sickening aroma emanating from the dark candle. It was too late. The magic was already saturating the room, twisting reality before my eyes.
Hakan looked up at me as I entered, his eyes softening as he realized I was there. I rushed forward, unable to contain the joyous news I carried.
"HAKAN!" I cried out.
He rose to meet me, his strong arms ready. Relief softened his features, ready to bridge the gap of two months of waiting.
I took his hands in mine, my smile wide. "I HAVE SOMETHING TO TELL—"
Before I could finish, the world warped.
In one moment, he was the loving man I knew, looking at me with gentle anticipation. In the next, the candle's permanent magic struck. My vision blurred, the familiar, handsome lines of his face overlaid with something dark, murderous, and terrifying. The background dissolved into a horrific, blood-red smear.
He leaned in, his dark hair falling over my shoulder—TURN. I braced for a gentle kiss, the kind that had been too rare lately.
Instead, his lips crushed mine in a desperate, demanding pressure—KISS KISS. My mind screamed. This wasn't the kiss of love; it was the suffocating demand of a captor. His hand moved instantly, possessive—GRAB.
A sharp pain exploded in my chest, right where my heart pounded. "UGH! IT HURTS!"
He didn't stop. He pulled me into his bare chest, a rough embrace that felt like suffocation. HUFF! His breathing was ragged, heavy, like before, when he struggled to hold back his immense strength. His hand gripped my waist in a crushing SQUEEZE that threatened to break me.
The permanent spell had worked. The fear overwhelmed the love.
I looked up at him, tears welling, seeing the demon in his eyes—not the Dragon King who wrapped himself in chains to keep me safe. The golden necklace I always wore, my only defense against powerful magic, snapped under the force of the illusion and his grip—SNAP. It fell to the floor—DROP.
My only barrier was gone. I was completely vulnerable.
"HAKAN...?" I whispered, the word a mix of questioning dread and agonizing pain. He was terrifying, beautiful, and utterly lost to the illusion.