KINGDOM HEARTS | this one's for the history books {marluxia/naminé}
Roxas takes her to Wonderland one day, in the middle of the night, while everyone is either cooped up in the lab or out on patrol. He isn’t supposed to leave the castle unsupervised, and she’s not even allowed out of her room half the time, so there’s a rush of something in her veins when he shows up with a portal behind him and his shoulders slouched.
“C’mon,” he says, with his dead-dead voice. “You need some fresh air.”
The air in Wonderland is beyond fresh - it’s clean and crisp and full of things that are alive, with beating hearts and real, true feelings. Naminé knows trees aren’t meant to be purple and the ocean isn’t really made of cherry soda, but she thinks it’s the truest place she’s ever been. Roxas stands next to her, gloved fingers curled against his sides. He’s always on his guard, these days.
“Thank you,” she finally says, quietly, while they walk through the singing forest. He grunts, pushes his hood back, and shakes out his hair. He’s damp, she realizes. “Why -”
“Atlantica,” he mumbles. “Had to sing. Never again.”
She giggles, and they keep walking deeper, between the swaying trees and echoing songs. She asks him if they can stop - she has the urge to draw, to draw something other than the things she knows she can never have. Roxas shrugs and leans against a log with his arms crossed. He and Axel are starting to stand the same. She decides she’ll draw them together, one day.
They’re both quiet for a very long time. Then, finally, Roxas says, “I shouldn’t have brought you here.”
Naminé looks up from her sketchpad. “Why?”
He scowls. “If Marluxia finds out…”
She pauses, maybe trembles just a little. Her fear isn’t so great, here. “He can’t hurt me anymore than he has already.”
Roxas doesn’t look at her when he goes, “That’s what you think.”
She finishes colouring the highlights in the leaves and stands up, smoothing out the creases in her dress. She catches her reflection in a puddle and thinks she looks a little bit more alive. She likes it. Roxas eyes her when she approaches him.
“If you’re really so worried,” she says, and taps his arm lightly. “We can go back to the castle now.”
He hesitates. She doesn’t think he wants to go either. “You sure?”
She nods. “Thank you.”
“You already said that,” he grumbles, but his cheeks might be pink when they step back into the darkness.
---
Marluxia finds out she left the castle, and Naminé knows how. She’d forgotten that he liked to flick through her sketchbooks when she was sleeping. She’d forgotten that Marluxia saw her as his and no one else’s.
“Who took you,” he’s asking now. The vines around her wrists dig painfully deep, but she can take it. Nobodies don’t bleed, after all. He’s calm, but she knows he’s furious, too, and she refuses to make Roxas face the same thing or worse.
Her lips stay a thin line. The thorns are practically embedded in her skin.
“Witch,” he says, “who took you to-” he flips to the page in her sketchbook and throws it at her feet. Black, bubbling oceans and smiling trees look up at her. “-Wonderland?”
She's quiet. He starts to chuckle. “Oh, I bet I know who it is. It was Luxord, wasn’t it? He has quite the soft spot for you, I’ve noticed. Or maybe it was Demyx? He seems to have a weakness for pretty girls.”
He’s trying to get a reaction out of her. She steels herself for when he’ll say Roxas’ name and thinks of beaches and red haired girls who were so much stronger than anyone ever believed. She came from a Princess with a stronger heart than most. She could handle this.
Marluxia keeps talking. “Maybe it was Axel; he seems to thrive off of making things difficult. Or maybe…” he smirks, “maybe it was Roxas?”
She doesn’t move a muscle. The vines drop abruptly. She waits.
“You’re particularly stubborn, today,” he muses. Her wrist throbs, but she won’t look at it. “I imagine you enjoyed that world quite a bit, didn’t you?”
She debates whether or not she should answer him. He raises his eyebrows and the vines twitch on the ground. When they start to creep up her ankles and across her calves, she nods. “It was… nice. Bright. Alive.”
He laughs, again. It’s a bitter, harsh sound. “I know just how to change your mind.”
He strides towards her, and it takes everything she has not to step back. When he grabs her already injured wrist tightly, she doesn’t wince. When he starts to drag her toward the dark portal by the door, she doesn’t struggle, barely whimpers. She won’t break for him, today. Not when she’s finally seen things that are better than the bleached castle halls. Marluxia’s eyebrows knit together, a sign that he’s getting frustrated, and Naminé tries not to smile.
When they step into the darkness, Naminé’s stomach churns, for just a moment. She’s been through them before, but only ever with Luxord and Roxas. Now, with a man she knows is far from kind holding her tight, she’s as close as she can get to scared. Her skin crawls and tingles as they walk and her shoulders threaten to shake. Marluxia never loosens his grip, never so much as glances at her. He’s still frowning - slowly, Naminé begins to dread.
Finally, they step into fresh air filled with smoke. Naminé chokes, coughs, covers her mouth with her free hand. Marluxia’s lips are kicking up at the corners and once again, the chill and fear rush through her hard enough to make her knees weak.
“Not so alive now, is it,” Marluxia mumbles, with his terrible, terrible drawl and horrible, horrible smirk. He pulls her in front of him, his chest hard against her back, his hands tight on her shoulders. His fingers press into her neck.
Around them, trees are burning. Naminé knows this isn’t Axel’s fire, though - she’d recognize the rhythm in the flames. Around them, Heartless scuttle and crawl. Up breaking branches, out of the swirling, bubbling ocean. A card runs by - they were ruled by the Queen, Roxas said - and a Heartless pounces, sinking its claws into his paper back, shredding and digging deeper and deeper until a heart floats away.
“This,” Marluxia says into her ear, his lips touching the shell, “is what life is really like outside the castle.”
She bites down hard enough on her lip to make it bleed when the screaming starts. She can’t cover her ears - Marluxia’s holding her too tight - and she can’t look away because that’s what he wants.
When the flames curl up over the tree tops, she hiccups, and he wins.
“Don’t ever leave the castle without my permission ever again,” he goes, pulling her away. He’s almost-gentle this time, but not quite. “You’re useless to me if you’re dead.”
His words are harsh, but his hands are running up her bare arms and he’s breathing down her neck. Naminé feels her blood run cold and grips the hem of her dress as he steers her through smoke and ash towards the portal. Suddenly, she doesn’t want to go back to the castle.
Marluxia is still talking. “Promise me you’ll never leave.”
“I -” she stutters when his fingers touch the dip of her collarbone. “I promise.”
“I hope you’re not lying,” he says, slightly hoarse, and takes her wrist again, the one with the thorns dug deep, deep inside. He holds it up so she can look at it. “You know what will happen if I find out you’re lying.”
“I promise,” she says again, with no conviction, but no hesitance either. He smiles, shows his teeth, and it’s so evil she wants to scream.
“Good girl,” he says, and pulls her back into the darkness.
“C’mon,” he says, with his dead-dead voice. “You need some fresh air.”
The air in Wonderland is beyond fresh - it’s clean and crisp and full of things that are alive, with beating hearts and real, true feelings. Naminé knows trees aren’t meant to be purple and the ocean isn’t really made of cherry soda, but she thinks it’s the truest place she’s ever been. Roxas stands next to her, gloved fingers curled against his sides. He’s always on his guard, these days.
“Thank you,” she finally says, quietly, while they walk through the singing forest. He grunts, pushes his hood back, and shakes out his hair. He’s damp, she realizes. “Why -”
“Atlantica,” he mumbles. “Had to sing. Never again.”
She giggles, and they keep walking deeper, between the swaying trees and echoing songs. She asks him if they can stop - she has the urge to draw, to draw something other than the things she knows she can never have. Roxas shrugs and leans against a log with his arms crossed. He and Axel are starting to stand the same. She decides she’ll draw them together, one day.
They’re both quiet for a very long time. Then, finally, Roxas says, “I shouldn’t have brought you here.”
Naminé looks up from her sketchpad. “Why?”
He scowls. “If Marluxia finds out…”
She pauses, maybe trembles just a little. Her fear isn’t so great, here. “He can’t hurt me anymore than he has already.”
Roxas doesn’t look at her when he goes, “That’s what you think.”
She finishes colouring the highlights in the leaves and stands up, smoothing out the creases in her dress. She catches her reflection in a puddle and thinks she looks a little bit more alive. She likes it. Roxas eyes her when she approaches him.
“If you’re really so worried,” she says, and taps his arm lightly. “We can go back to the castle now.”
He hesitates. She doesn’t think he wants to go either. “You sure?”
She nods. “Thank you.”
“You already said that,” he grumbles, but his cheeks might be pink when they step back into the darkness.
---
Marluxia finds out she left the castle, and Naminé knows how. She’d forgotten that he liked to flick through her sketchbooks when she was sleeping. She’d forgotten that Marluxia saw her as his and no one else’s.
“Who took you,” he’s asking now. The vines around her wrists dig painfully deep, but she can take it. Nobodies don’t bleed, after all. He’s calm, but she knows he’s furious, too, and she refuses to make Roxas face the same thing or worse.
Her lips stay a thin line. The thorns are practically embedded in her skin.
“Witch,” he says, “who took you to-” he flips to the page in her sketchbook and throws it at her feet. Black, bubbling oceans and smiling trees look up at her. “-Wonderland?”
She's quiet. He starts to chuckle. “Oh, I bet I know who it is. It was Luxord, wasn’t it? He has quite the soft spot for you, I’ve noticed. Or maybe it was Demyx? He seems to have a weakness for pretty girls.”
He’s trying to get a reaction out of her. She steels herself for when he’ll say Roxas’ name and thinks of beaches and red haired girls who were so much stronger than anyone ever believed. She came from a Princess with a stronger heart than most. She could handle this.
Marluxia keeps talking. “Maybe it was Axel; he seems to thrive off of making things difficult. Or maybe…” he smirks, “maybe it was Roxas?”
She doesn’t move a muscle. The vines drop abruptly. She waits.
“You’re particularly stubborn, today,” he muses. Her wrist throbs, but she won’t look at it. “I imagine you enjoyed that world quite a bit, didn’t you?”
She debates whether or not she should answer him. He raises his eyebrows and the vines twitch on the ground. When they start to creep up her ankles and across her calves, she nods. “It was… nice. Bright. Alive.”
He laughs, again. It’s a bitter, harsh sound. “I know just how to change your mind.”
He strides towards her, and it takes everything she has not to step back. When he grabs her already injured wrist tightly, she doesn’t wince. When he starts to drag her toward the dark portal by the door, she doesn’t struggle, barely whimpers. She won’t break for him, today. Not when she’s finally seen things that are better than the bleached castle halls. Marluxia’s eyebrows knit together, a sign that he’s getting frustrated, and Naminé tries not to smile.
When they step into the darkness, Naminé’s stomach churns, for just a moment. She’s been through them before, but only ever with Luxord and Roxas. Now, with a man she knows is far from kind holding her tight, she’s as close as she can get to scared. Her skin crawls and tingles as they walk and her shoulders threaten to shake. Marluxia never loosens his grip, never so much as glances at her. He’s still frowning - slowly, Naminé begins to dread.
Finally, they step into fresh air filled with smoke. Naminé chokes, coughs, covers her mouth with her free hand. Marluxia’s lips are kicking up at the corners and once again, the chill and fear rush through her hard enough to make her knees weak.
“Not so alive now, is it,” Marluxia mumbles, with his terrible, terrible drawl and horrible, horrible smirk. He pulls her in front of him, his chest hard against her back, his hands tight on her shoulders. His fingers press into her neck.
Around them, trees are burning. Naminé knows this isn’t Axel’s fire, though - she’d recognize the rhythm in the flames. Around them, Heartless scuttle and crawl. Up breaking branches, out of the swirling, bubbling ocean. A card runs by - they were ruled by the Queen, Roxas said - and a Heartless pounces, sinking its claws into his paper back, shredding and digging deeper and deeper until a heart floats away.
“This,” Marluxia says into her ear, his lips touching the shell, “is what life is really like outside the castle.”
She bites down hard enough on her lip to make it bleed when the screaming starts. She can’t cover her ears - Marluxia’s holding her too tight - and she can’t look away because that’s what he wants.
When the flames curl up over the tree tops, she hiccups, and he wins.
“Don’t ever leave the castle without my permission ever again,” he goes, pulling her away. He’s almost-gentle this time, but not quite. “You’re useless to me if you’re dead.”
His words are harsh, but his hands are running up her bare arms and he’s breathing down her neck. Naminé feels her blood run cold and grips the hem of her dress as he steers her through smoke and ash towards the portal. Suddenly, she doesn’t want to go back to the castle.
Marluxia is still talking. “Promise me you’ll never leave.”
“I -” she stutters when his fingers touch the dip of her collarbone. “I promise.”
“I hope you’re not lying,” he says, slightly hoarse, and takes her wrist again, the one with the thorns dug deep, deep inside. He holds it up so she can look at it. “You know what will happen if I find out you’re lying.”
“I promise,” she says again, with no conviction, but no hesitance either. He smiles, shows his teeth, and it’s so evil she wants to scream.
“Good girl,” he says, and pulls her back into the darkness.