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The weight of sacred things

Summary:

After protecting the princess during a festival attack, Soul Evans is appointed as Her Majesty’s knight.

Maka resents it immediately.

To the kingdom, he is the rising knight favored by her father: obedient, capable, willing to die for the crown. But according to royal tradition, before a knight may swear himself to the throne, he and the royal heir must undergo the rite beneath Death’s temple; a confession, a blessing, and a vow that binds their souls together.

Maka has spent her entire life trapped by duty. Soul has spent his serving it.

Neither of them leaves the ritual unchanged.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Maka is taken back to the castle to her chamber after the attack in a rush, she can feel heaviness in her heart. “Why? Why? Why?” It had happened quickly, there was a commotion while the princess was greeting the citizens, a shadow overcasted her in the low light of the bonfire. A silver dagger pointed at her. 

While shielding her people she tells them to run. They started screaming for help, there were guards near them but the man started to swing the weapon. Someone had tugged her to the side, a white-haired guard.

Now, at the castle in the King Spirit’s office, he requests her daughter Maka, the heir to the throne, to hold a ceremony for the knight who saved her life. She’s reluctant to do so, she hasn’t crossed a word with said man.

The king arranged for them to meet at the temple with a priestess. Maka arrived in her carriage, the entrance of the gloomy church intimidating her. Guards opened the heavy doors for her. 

Maka’s wearing her ceremonial gown, never used before. A pale dress with white sewn floral adornments on long bat sleeves. Her hair falling to her hips, silk made, hidden by a heavy-long black veil and falling on top of her head; her crown. 

According to tradition; the royal and their to-be-appointed knight have to be blessed by Death’s cleric. Praying inside the church, confessing themselves to one another and making vows to the inevitable.

She walks towards the altar, lit up by warm candlelights, she can only manage to see the beams they emanate through the veil. The girl gets to the feet of Death’s statue and contemplates it. Her nerves start to rise up, she can feel a flush of red on her cheeks. Maka feels the tremble on her hands, she’s more afraid now than when that drunk man tried to stab her. 

Maybe then, she could have been freed.  

As the only legitimate daughter of the king, she was next to the throne. Spirit had his mistresses and actually had a baby boy and girl with one of them, but they were put in a separate wing of the castle, Maka hadn't met them yet. It was a matter of time to be betrothed to some prince in alliance with their land to reign hers. 

Since she was little, she was trained to be a queen, attending to her etiquette classes, economy, latin, politics and sometimes, in secret, she trained with her sword. Not that her father would know, he’s a very busy man dealing with the kingdoms, trading and such.

She could not care less. She enjoyed learning and reading all the books available at the castle, she wanted a quiet uneventful life, but as princess, that could never happen.

The dead silence is interrupted by heavy footsteps. Maka didn’t turn around. She held her hands near her heart and held her breath, footsteps approaching.

“Your majesty.” He simply said. His voice is raspy and low, she doesn’t hint anything from his tone, he’s neutral.

“Knight.”

She slowly turns around, finding the man kneeling in front of her with his head down. His hair is a white mess, spiky and untamable. She vows to him. “That is not-” he tries to say, looking up to find her.

“It is. It is an honor to be in front of the knight that saved me and protected our people. Thank you.” A smile formed on her lips. 

He hummed lowly.

“May I know your name?”

“Soul Evans, majesty.”

“I’m Maka.” She can see the corner of his lips twitch almost in a smile. “I’m sorry, I just thought we should introduce since…everything.” She tiptoed.

“I am a guard at the palace, my duty that evening was to look out for disturbances and keep the peace at the festival. I’m twenty-three years old.”

Maka hummed acknowledging him. Her gaze explored him, trying to see if he was hurt from the altercation, with the veil on, she could barely see. In fact, by request of her father, the king Spirit, she always must wear a veil. A greedy, possessive man he was. Very few people had the privilege to have ever seen the lady without it, one of them being her best friend and lady-in-waiting Tsubaki. 

A long figure appeared by the Death statue, the priestess had arrived. “Follow me.”

Maka turned around, still fidgeting with her hands, she knew what was next, she had studied the ritual. The confession had to last as long as it took for the priestess to sense the soul has been poured to the other, then the promise and blessing. After that, it won’t be the same for either of them.

The priestess led them to a room covered by bones from past priestesses, monarchs and townspeople. 

“Welcome to the Umbral, here there are no titles, this is a sacred room. You may converse here, only your two souls will know what was shared. You must confess yourselves-and to Death- before protecting each other. Confess.”

The door was shut. The room was barely lit up by four candles on the corners of the room, and one in a little table at the center. Dark enough to only see what is in front of them. The silence since the door shut prevails.

Soul’s stern face makes the princess uneasy, his gaze doesn’t leave her alone, he studies her. Maka sighs.

“I think it was foolish…” The veil helps her avoid his firm eyes. “What you did, to save me.”

“Did you not just thank me before?”

“You didn’t have a choice, Soul.” She cut off.

“I don’t have it now, princess.” Maka could almost taste the venom in that last word.

“You don’t even know me, you put yourself at risk too.”

 “I made the right choice, I helped someone in need, I would have done it for anybody there, I was the closest to run when I saw no man running to you.”

Silence fell over them. 

She stared back at his dark eyes, and Soul wondered what the person he saved looked like. It was a mystery to everyone outside the castle, there were gossips mentioning that she was a gracious woman, resembling the late queen; a spitting image of her. Rumor said you were blessed if you ever could hear her laughter.

Soul didn’t feel blessed, not that he had heard her laugh yet, she seemed rather serious. Again, they were in a serious situation, he was about to make a life-long commitment to a stranger, a very powerful one. 

“Do you have any family?”

He shook his head.

“Friends?”

“They are all knights, I do have friends serving in the kitchen’s palace.”

He wouldn’t say anything more, his answers direct and straight to the point. Does he have any questions for me? Anything to say? Maka asked herself.

“I’m nothing special to save or venerate, knight Evans, I am glad you made your choice, but I don’t feel comfortable tying you to the crown.”

Her words surprised him, his body instinctively leaning closer to her. “Your majesty-”

“Maka.” She corrected. He stopped, still space between them.

“It is my duty and my will to protect the royal family, but most importantly, my people. As a knight, I have served to protect someone who faces the world without expecting anything in return. I have not been mistaken, princess Maka.” He reassured her, his eyebrows frowned and his jaw clenched. Maka looked away, staring down.

Soul could barely see her distressed expression, he noticed she looked up to see him. “You are caged here with me, in this temple where you are about to swear your soul for me…If I can’t shake away the guilt for what you are to do, I’ll carry it.”

“And I will protect you, my lady.”

Here and now, a feeling of respect grows between them, he has made his will and she’s made her promise.

Maka’s startled by the door opening by the priestess. “The confessions have been pronounced, the veil has served its purpose.” Soul seems unfazed, as expected from a knight, Maka thought. 

The priestess led them back to the Death altar, at the feet of the statue the princess had seen. There, right in front of the other, they were asked to sit on their knees.”

“You may lift your veil, princess. The eyes won’t lie.”

The echo resonates in the quiet temple, the flames of the candles flicker. The coldness and roughness of the floor ground her. She lifts the fabric, taking a breath, her eyes closed. He waits.

The princess’s skin is pale, barely touched by the sunlight. The glint in her eyes shows fear but those green eyes are determined, alive and observing. They lock eyes, she can see him. His messy hair, the length of his lashes-touching  his furrowed eyebrows- and those eyes…that deadly stare.

“May Death always help and protect you. And when it's time, may it take you with honor.” She blesses them with sacred rain from days before, as the ritual dictates.

For a moment, they’re not princess and knight, they’re not in front of a high priestess. They’re before Death, recognizing each other, as if they’ve been through this..

“The eyes have spoken, the truth has been said. From now on, you do not belong to each other; you owe each other.” 

Maka doesn’t smile, neither does Soul. There’s a tingle in their fingers and a tremble in the corner of their lips. It is not out of fear, there’s a silent understanding; now, their souls and paths are intertwined…and the space between them has to close.

Notes:

still thinking about adding chapters to this