Crossed Hearts | Stray Kids Royal AU Fanfic

Filius Maris

Zolan = Chan
Yann = Jeongin
Ronan = Jisung
Lynx = Felix
Syrex = Seungmin
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"I'm... I apologize for shedding tears earlier. I am a knight. I am not allowed to-"

"To show emotions?" Agatha cut him off. "It's alright. That was the proof of your love. My lover once cried for me as well."

"Where is he?" Zolan asked a bit aback.

"Dead. He was killed during the war."

Agatha said it nonchalantly. Like it didn't affect her anymore.

"I'm sorry to hear that. Was he good to you? Did he know that you are..."

It was beyond comprehension for a witch to be accepted and moreover loved by a knight unless she charmed him. That's why Zolan was so curious.

"Yes. He knew. I am no monster. I am still human. I wasn't born like this." The woman stopped walking and turned around to face the knight.

"You were taught. I read about that. Why did you learn it?"

"That's a story for another time. I can teach you if you want to become stronger."

"I am only skilled in handling a sword."

"Seems fair to me. And I am good at magic. You wouldn't want your sword taken away from you and I do not want my magic either."

Zolan nodded ashamed of his offensive questions.

He continued to walk with his head down, following her steps until they reached the seaside. On the beach, next to the line between the sand and the turquois waves, there was a wooden shed. One that Zolan knew very well.

"The fisherman." Agatha uttered in one breath.

"This is Ronan's house. His father should have his scarf." Zolan made his way through the burning sand and knocked at the door.

While the knight was waiting for someone to answer, the witch spotted a trail of steps leading in the opposite direction.

She followed them in silence under the burning sun of July. Her skin was turning red and icky.

Zolan wasn't bothered by the heat. He was "the son of the sun". He was used to it. Ronan too. His skin was much darker than Zolan's. His whole life belonged under the dangerous rays of the sun, with sand burning his heels and water washing his ankles.

On the shore, a man was counting the fish to be sold the next morning in the village.

With long white hair cut messily with a knife, tick brows and a chopped beard, the old man raised his gaze and squinted his eyes in order to see the figure in front of him. His pants were soaked and on his left leg a couple of algae yarns were crawling. He rolled up his inn sleeves and caught with his bare hands another one alike the bears in the forest.

"If you wish to buy, you'll have to wait until tomorrow." he said.

"I'm not here for the fish."

The man looked up confused.

"I have nothing else to offer you."

"You do. The "filius maris". I need it."

"Why would I give it to you?" he looked at her with such hatred in his eyes. He was balancing on his weak legs back and forth. He was hesitating.

Agatha raised her chin and looked back at him with suck cockiness.

"Give it to me and you can keep your miserable life." She clenched her jaw.

"A woman telling me what to do?" he scoffed.

She moved her hand faster than he could see and pushed her thumb on his Adam's apple, trying to choke him.

"You found him!" Zolan ran towards them until he saw the scene unfolding. "What are you doing?"

"Teaching him to keep his mouth shut."

"Let him go! We need him to give us the scarf." He clung to her sleeve and dragged her away.

"Tell your woman to stay out of it." The man coughed.

Agatha's eyes started glowing an emerald color. She was beyond furious.

"Don't! Let me talk to him." Zolan placed his hand on her shoulders and squeezed it slightly.

She stepped back, waiting with her arms crossed for the fisherman to do a wrong move, so she could kill him.

"We need your son's scarf. I understand that we are asking you to give up the last thing he left behind. We can reward you."

"How much?" he whipped his head towards Zolan intrigued. Money...the best motivation, no matter the era.

"I don't have much, but I can go home and-"

"Your sword. I can sell it at the blacksmith in the village. Give it to me and you can have the scarf."

Zolan tightened his grip on the handle. The sword was the last proof of his glory days. He couldn't give it up that easily.