The night held them in a loving embraced. They were the darkness and all the life it held. Feared and forgotten warriors of old. Not good, not bad, but somewhere in the grey.
BTS X READER | based/ inspired of Ryan Kirks Nightblade trilogy. You DON'T...
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(Y/n) burrowed herself further into the warmth of sheets. She rubbed the remnants of sleep from her eyes and gazed through the window at the horizon; the sun's vivid light extended across a rosy sky. She supposed this was something the majority of people would consider beautiful, but she found it strange. It was hard to find something so meaningful in something so every day. It's not like the sun wouldn't rise; it has been reliably happening since the beginning of time. So what was so special about it?
She found more beauty in the moon; it changed. Sometimes it would appear red, other times a pure white. Something was comforting in the irregularity.
(y/n) sat up more; she never remembered falling asleep or walking back to her room. Yet here she was, tangled in sheets of silks and linens, on her bed and not on the mud floor. It didn't confuse her as much as you would expect it to. It had happened countless times before. Almost every night, she would fall at the graveyard. She would wake with no recollection of leaving. She shrugged it off. It was probably a guard on patrol who kept finding her asleep and bringing her back.
She left her room dressed in beige and cream and headed through the halls down to the meeting rooms. Alabaster statues lined the corridors until she reached her destination. On the other side, several people of importance sat ready to finalise the plans for tomorrow.
She sat in a chair the furthest away from her father. He tried his best to pay it no mind.
Everyone else in the meeting room spoke in hushed tones. It was the last day the council had to plan tomorrow's ceremony.
Oh, what a ceremony it was. It was the only time (y/n) felt any connection with her mother, and it was the only time the people in Mrryka saw her. The parade was a celebration of her mother's life held every year. The meaning behind the festival had mostly been forgotten by the public. It was more used as an excuse to let go for a day, but it still held a reason to those who knew the Chief's late wife. That reason was enough for the Chief to keep it going.
"As we all know, my daughter (y/n) leads the parade." The Chief announced. The council gave a slight nod to this fact, it was nothing new it had been the case for nine years. "Well, this year, I think we need a change." He directed his attention to his only daughter. "(y/n) I don't think you should do it this year."
Her lungs caved, pushing all the oxygen out; no matter how many gulps of air she took, something stopped her from breathing. Tears started to prick at her eyes, threatening to spill. Finally getting a gasp of air, she calmed herself, praying that she had just heard wrong. "What do mean" (y/n) crocked out.
"It's nothing personal, but this parade has turned into one for the people, and you don't seem to connect with them. I doubt they would really know who you are, you keep yourself hidden away too much." He paused, checking to see the damage done, but all he could see was the emotionless face of his child.
"So I believe it's better to have a familiar face at the front. That's why Hoseok will lead the parade this year." He finished with an empty smile. He didn't want to do this, he knew how much (y/n) adored her mother.
