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It’s been so very long since they’ve had time to sit down and relax that sometimes Yona forgets that at one point all they had to worry about was feeding villagers and finding the four dragons. Nowadays it's fights, and war, and everything in between.
So when Yun grins and tells her that he’s making soup for everyone, she can’t help but almost tear up in gratitude. It truly hasn’t been so long since all of them have been separated, but it felt like very moment and every hour was torture since she’s last seen them all.
So she helps pour soup to give to the dragons who are still injured (even if they pretend they aren’t—she’s seen a few blood-soaked bandages already), and then finally she is able to sit down next to Hak. She breathes in the smoke of the logs burning in front of them, closing her eyes as the rest of her group starts to update each other and talk about what they’ve been up to.
It’s only when her name is called that she tunes back into the conversation, yawning slightly as she turns to give Kija her full attention.
“You know,” Kija says after a practically long sip of his soup. “I just noticed, I haven’t seen that pretty hairpin around recently. I mean—I know we’ve all been busy, but normally it’s at the bottom of our bags, and I just unloaded our tent and—-” Kija gasps. “Princess—did you lose it? We can search for it right now!”
“--and that’s enough of that,” Jae-Ha grunts, unraveling some of the gauze around his hand, starting to twist it around Kija’s head and mouth. “Get over here white snake—apparently you hit your head fighting those losers and still have a fever.”
“Wha—-No—Jae-Ha, I’m just making sure the Princess is okay! I know that it was a gift from—”
Yona finally pulls her mouth up from where it had opened in shock, rubbing her face. Seriously? She’s finally reunited with her friends—finally able to sit peacefully for a moment—and this is what they want to talk about? She just dealt with Su–Won, the last thing she wanted to talk about was what he had done to her.
A glance over at Hak makes it clear he doesn’t want to either—blue eyes so stormy they look like daggers, frown so prominent underneath a bruised face that it looks like his only emotion is rage. She can feel his bloodlust from here, and so can Yun, if by the way his eyes widen as he nudges Shin-Ah aside is any indication.
“Ignore him—ignore him! You don’t have to answer—” Yun whisper-yells, leaning over the fire to cup his hands around Kija’s mouth. “The Lighting Beast looks really scary right now!”
Hak’s hand, which had been sitting against the log next to her clenches into a fist. Yona sighs softly, placing her hand over his. She feels the rigidness of his hand, the veins, the callouses from fighting. Her fingers still have ages before she even has a fourth of his experience, and yet she no longer is upset over rough skin and broken fingernails.
“I gave it away,” She says softly. She uses her other hand to push back a stray piece of her hair—ignoring the twinge of fondness and exasperation at the curly red strand when it bounces back into her vision. It’s not the same hatred she had as a child—nor the same forced happiness at Su-Won’s insistence that it was beautiful. Now—Now it is a symbol of her kingdom, of her bonds with the four dragons—of Hak. “I no longer needed it.”
“You gave it away?” Yun asks, his hand dropping from Kija’s mouth. Zeno, who had sleepily been dozing on Shin-Ah to the side, glances over, and she can see how even Jae-Ha and Kija are earnestly staring at her.
“You make it sound like it was a—” She starts to say, before snapping her mouth shut in embarrassment.
“--a prized possession.” Hak mumbles next to her—voice flat. “Yona, do you want it back?”
“What?” She turns to him, eyes wide. Why would he…. “No. I don’t.”
Which must not be the answer they were expecting, because Yun chokes, Kija falls off of the log he was on, and even Jae-Ha has to lean in as if he couldn’t hear her properly. Hak’s hand—that was clenched so hardly on the log and under her hand loosens, turning over so that their palms are clasped together.
“Do you forgive him? For chasing you out of the castle?” Jae-Ha asks after a moment. It seems that even he is curious about her feelings.
And Yona stiffens, just as Hak curls his fingers so that they are holding hands. Just like how it used to be so very long ago—when it was just them against the entire world. When he would pull her through twisting trees and shrubbery, where she would be winded after ten minutes of uphill running. And then she remembers that she never truly told everyone what had happened. She alluded to things—they know she’s a Princess, that her throne was ripped from her fingers. But did they really know?
“Princess…” Hak starts to say, a warning in his throat. And Yona knows that she’s never said anything—but neither has Hak. Su-Won was touchy for both of them. A betrayal that gives Hak more bloodlust than pain, anger instead of sorrow, like herself. She knows he wants to forget this moment has ever happened—to have her shut them down gently like she has done for so very long.
But she finds she can’t.
Hak–only Hak needed to remember her roots—where she came from. Only Hak needed to remember her father the way she did—a kind and loving man. Only Hak had to hold and understand her father’s love, her father’s flaws. That she was—before anything else, before her hair, before this prophecy, before her lineage—was that she was her Father and Mother’s child.
“I’ll never forgive him,” she says softly. “On my sixteenth birthday—”
“Princess.” Hak says softly—sharply. His hand squeezes tight, just shy of bruising her. She glances up at him, watches as his fingers move to wipe at the dampness on her eyelashes. “You don’t have to explain yourself. Not to them—not to me.”
Yona leans into his touch, watches as dark eyelashes bat against tan skin, before she breathes in deep.
“Su-Won, the current King, is my cousin.” She starts softly. “The three of us—Hak, Su-won, and I, were very close. On my sixteenth birthday, I walked into my father’s room.”
“This can not be said anywhere.” Hak interrupts after a moment. He bows at her slightly in apology at interrupting, eyes wild and blazing as Zeno sits up straighter with wide eyes, as even Jae-Ha doesn’t mime his lips shut like usual. “Nobody can know—I—”
“I walked into my father’s room,” Yona whispers softly, squeezing Hak’s hand back. She always found her strength when he was around—always felt invincible with him by her side. Ever since she was a child—Hak had never given her any room to doubt. He doesn’t now. “And Su-Won and my father were there. But only one walked out alive that day.”
She swallows deeply. “He knew I hated my hair—thought it was unruly, and silly. And he gave me that hairpin that day—and then he…and then my father was slain by his hands, the very same night in front of me.”
Yona can feel the tears that sting at her eyes—at the hurt that still sits deep in her chest from so very long ago. And then she hears loud sobs, before her body is slammed into everyone.
“Princess!” Kija yells, tears dripping down his face, “I’m so–so sorryyyy!”
Zeno jumps in with an arm around Yun and Shin-Ah, while Jae-Ha clamps onto Hak when he is too slow to push him off. She giggles through her tears, how even Yun’s nose looks a little pink, and how Ao comes to pat her cheek as she’s crushed into Kija’s chest. Hak still holds her hand, using his other hand to push Jae-Ha off, who has smushed his cheek against his own during his hesitation.
“You’re all still injured—get off!” Hak grumbles, but even Yona can tell he’s appreciative of their support. “Seriously—you guys all fought and still haven’t taken showers yet—!”
Eventually they all calm down, but only after a few more apologies and hugs given to her. Eventually it becomes too much for her, so she tugs on Hak’s sleeve, motioning over towards their group tent. Thankfully everybody seems to understand, because the two of them are able to sneak off without any questioning.
“Did you mean it?” Hak whispers once the two of them are inside the tent, as she works her fingers through her hair, wincing at a few knots. “That you don’t want it back? I could—” He chokes, as if he doesn’t want to offer, but feels he must. “I could get it back.”
She shakes her head. “No. It’s not—It’s not important to me anymore. You are—the dragons are. Yun is. I don’t need a hairpin to tell me that I am loved—because I see it in all of you everyday.”
Hak breathes deeply, rubbing his face. “I don’t…I don’t know how you do it, Princess.” His fingers tremble as he runs it through his hair. “I’m so—-I’m so angry. Seeing him–hearing about him. I can’t even think of our past as kids anymore—it’s all tainted, all….wrong.”
“You feel betrayed by him,” Yona whispers. “It’s okay to be angry, Hak. You know I would never judge you for it—that I…That I am too.”
“No—Princess, it’s different. You–you’re so strong, so—so you. You’ve grown, and become a beautiful ruler. And I’m….stuck in the past. I don’t—I’ll never forgive him, Princess. Never.” Hak breathes in deep. “He was—He was supposed to be with us, Princess. I…I trusted him with all my life, even with you.”
“Oh, Hak.” She whispers, loosening her fingers from her hair to place her hand on his cheek. His skin is burning—hot against her cool hands. He grabs her hand gently with his, holding the back of her hand to his forehead. “You can be angry—but you can be sad too.”
“I can’t.” He breathes, eyes closed, hand trembling against hers. “I can’t be sad—not after what he did to you, not after what he’s done to my King.”
“You can.” She says softly. “As your Princess…” She winces, because she hates ordering Hak, but it seems he really only does listen when she does. “As your Princess—I’m telling you it’s okay to mourn your friendship with him. To mourn him. You can be angry—-but sad, too.”
She watches as his eyelashes become wet, but tears never fall.
“Princess…”
She uses her other hand to pull Hak closer to herself, so that his head leans against her shoulder. Her fingers trail through his dark hair, the strands spilling and tickling her against her neck. She holds him in place, where nobody but she can see him weak.
“Cry, Hak.” She says softly. “I give you permission to. Only your Princess should see it, don’t you think so?”
And it isn’t loud sobs—-it isn’t wails like her own. Yona is loud in all she does, she knows this vividly. That she screams when she’s upset, that snot always drips down her chin. But Hak is quiet—in what he feels, in how he acts. Hak grieves silently; he doesn’t even sniffle when crying.
But she can feel the tears that slide down her neck, the quiet hitch in his breath when she cups his neck to hold him in place, the trembling of his fingers against her robe so that he doesn’t accidentally touch her.
And she knows that Hak will never forgive Su-Won—-that Hak will hold this betrayal in his heart for eternity, that he will blame himself for never seeing the signs, for never noticing and protecting her when it mattered.
But Yona doesn’t think she’ll ever forgive Su-Won either—-will never go back to those sunny days in the palace where Su-Won would hold her close like her Mother used to, where Hak would huff and pout but still carry her when her legs were too tired and she couldn’t see and needed a boost on his shoulders.
But Su-Won was not someone she could dwell on anymore. She had a kingdom to protect—a kingdom to rebuild. She would fix her Father’s wrongs—-would become someone her people could rely on.
And in her future—Su-Won is not even a thought.
Hak, always is.
She never needed Su-Won, but Hak was hers, forever, until the end of time.