Stolen Heart (yandere! King x reader)

7. Festival of Lights

It was a pretty slow day for Verdant in the hideout. Verdant had already written all of the requests for alliances, in the name of the rebellion. As usual, no nearby countries wanted to challenge the largest army on the west coast for a ragtag bunch of revolutionaries. The revolution couldn't move forward without this support, as doing so would lead to a bloodbath. With nothing to write, organize, or research, Verdant had nothing to do but wait. He didn't mind waiting.

Damien, who was pacing across the tattered floor and glancing out the boarded-up window constantly, did appear to mind waiting. "So you're the infamous thief?" He said, crossing his arms.

Verdant laughed, "Not even close. I'm Verdant, head of foreign communications. Nice to meet you."

"Oh," Damien said, relieved. He wanted to trust the man who helped him, the man who was so close to (Y/n). Verdant didn't seem like he would send him into an ambush like the thief did. But Verdant was too calm, "Are we just going to sit here while (Y/n) is in danger?" Damien said.

Verdant took a deep breath, "She can save herself. She always does."

He had a point. Damien winced in his pacing because of how many injuries he had sustained before.

Verdant changed the topic before Damien decided to do something stupid. The only thing they had in common was his favorite topic. "How do you know (Y/n)?"

"We met a couple of years ago, at most. She visited the Wanderers Waypoint quite often."

"Wanderers... Waypoint?" Verdant asked.

"The tavern downtown." Damien explained.

"Stop assuming I know things. Like, baseline, assume I know nothing."

"She visited the Tavern I work at quite often. She never bought anything, so I assumed she was only there to mingle. I considered (Y/n) good luck. She was always around when we received anonymous deliveries of silver pieces and food." He laughed to himself, a faraway look in his eyes, "Last spring, I heard a ruckus coming from the back rooms. I thought someone was stealing the food, but it was just (Y/n). She was trying to sneak a bag of bread bigger than herself through the window and into the storage room. To keep me quiet, (Y/n) explained that she was a low-ranking member of the rebellion and that she was bringing all of the food." Damien shrugged and jokingly added, "I guess we've been friends since around then. I hope you're not my replacement."

"Ha! In your dreams. I have much more history with her."

"And?" Damien sat down and stared at his metaphorical brother expectantly.

"What?"

"I told my story. It's your turn."

Verdant sighed, "You see this?" He pinched a small strand of his delicate platinum-white hair. "I'm a bit of a genetic anomaly. I guess it made me a target, along with my inability to fight back at the time. My parents left me at a young age, and I learned how to pick pockets. There were these... these two guards who never left me alone. It makes me sick just thinking about them. They were big, like monsters."

Verdant curled into a ball and didn't speak for a minute before saying, "One day this hero of a man in a green cloak came walking by, holding hands with a cute little girl around my age. He saw what the guards were doing to me and asked if I would like him to intervene." Verdant saw how interested Damien was in the story, and he was tempted to lie, but he stuck to the truth, "I was a foolish, weak child. I could've asked for help, but I didn't. I told him everything was fine and to mind his own business. I probably thought that lying would earn me the respect of the guards. Instead, they threw me into the alley and I knew they were going to kill me. The guards kill innocent people every day. But they didn't. Mr. (L/n) broke an empty bottle over their heads before they could. He took me in and I got to grow up with the most wonderful girl in the world. (Y/n) knew something was wrong, and she told her father that I did need help. I owe her my life for that."