[Stay] - A SKKS Fanfic

#3 in the [10 Moments] series:

Ten different scenarios, ten different women --- ten different ways for Jae Shin to love again. Told in ten self-standing short stories.

Title: Stay
Genre: General, Family (Post-Drama)
Characters: Jae Shin, OFC (Original Female Character)
Words: 1206
Summary: He doesn’t love her and she doesn’t love him. But they could learn. Together.

Musical inspiration: Falling Slowly by Glen Hansard (Once OST) [download] [Youtube]

o.o0o.o

On the day of her wedding, Han Eul cries.

o.o0o.o

She’s never met her groom, but she’s heard the rumours --- and of his gambling, his drunkenness, his brutality and violence, there are plenty. Sometimes, it was even whispered that Moon Jae Shin could kill a man with his bare hands without breaking sweat.

‘Guh-ro’, they called him, and his name strikes her heart with fear.

Crazy Horse. Wild One. He-Who-Cannot-Be-Tamed.


The very thought of such a monster's hand on her repulses Han Eul to the core, but this marriage is her father’s will, and Han Eul is nothing if not a filial daughter.

Her father is her Lord and Master, and obeying him is her duty – just as she must one day obey her husband, and later, her son – if Heaven is kind enough to bless her with such a gift.

…She has no other choice but to do so.

o.o0o.o

She is a reluctant, trembling bride in brilliant scarlet silk, her face painted in the ghostly pallor and unnaturally red lips of a porcelain doll. It forms like a stiff, frozen mask over her face, belying the sharp, gnawing terror in her heart.

Every step forward weighs on her thin shoulders like the pinching load of the elaborate bridal headpiece on her head; the bright, thunderous sound of wedding drums and firecrackers ringing like a funeral dirge in her ears.

o.o0o.o

As her unduly swollen and still-red eyes meet her groom’s, and Han Eul takes in his appearance for the first time, she is shocked to find that he is startlingly, boyishly handsome.

Is it possible for someone so beautiful to be so monstrous? ---He looks nothing like the Guh-ro she imagined, or the gruesome beast that the rumours painted.

But Han Eul knows better than to take comfort in this unexpected revelation.

…After all, monsters could have beautiful faces, too.

o.o0o.o

The ceremony over, the lavish wedding feast at an end, the new bride is led by a bevy of clucking matrons to her marriage bed, where she is carefully undressed and readied for the night ahead. When their duties are done, the women leave in a chattering cloud of helpful insinuations and laughter, and all too soon, Han Eul is left frighteningly alone in the sudden, ominous silence. 

And so she waits, trembling in the dimly lit wedding chamber, listening for the sound of her husband’s approaching footsteps to the quick-fire rhythm of her pounding heart.

o.o0o.o

In wide-eyed rigid vigil, Han Eul sits, but even when the morning light streaks pale orange across the eastern horizon, of her husband there is still no sign.

He never steps foot into the wedding chamber.

Not that night. Or the next. Or the next.

Eventually, sheer exhaustion wins out over the maidenly fear of her matrimonial duties – those terrifying, unknown and unmentionable things that she knew were expected of a wife – until Han Eul at last succumbs to an exhausted stupor on the third night.

Slowly, the new Lady of the House of Moon grows accustomed to sleeping alone.

o.o0o.o

As the days pass, Han Eul realises that her previous fears were utterly unfounded. Her husband would never lay a hand on her. He would never strike her, or hurt her.

...He doesn’t even touch her at all.

o.o0o.o

Days turn into weeks, weeks into months. As winter melts into spring, Han Eul gradually settles into her new life. When her daily household duties are done, she reads, embroiders, and takes long strolls in the extensive Moon gardens to admire the budding flowers. Her father-in-law is stern, but kind, and she is both relieved and saddened to find that she has no mother-in-law under whose thumb she would live out her days. Instead, it is the servants’ malicious whispers that make her flinch, but Han Eul tries to ignore them as best she could.

‘The young Lady has yet to produce an heir,’ she overhears them say. ‘…Hardly surprising, when the young Lord never visits her.’

‘Perhaps she’s displeasing to him.’

‘Perhaps he’ll take a concubine.’

‘Perhaps he already has a lover.’

Although self-doubt and anxiety blooms like the pale petals of the plum blossom tree she so adores, Han Eul continues to spend her days in relative peace and tranquillity. She rarely sees her husband, and when she does, he is as much a stranger to her as he was three months earlier.

Han Eul forces herself to enjoy the solitude, refusing to admit that she is lonely.

o.o0o.o

On the last day of Spring, everything changes.

o.o0o.o

It is just after midday, and the house is quiet. Alone and confident of Jae Shin's absence, Han Eul heads for the Moon family library, hoping to finish writing a few letters home before evening fell.

---The last thing she expects is to see him there.

Her husband is sitting at the lone desk in the middle of the room, poring over an old scroll laid out before him. Although he is dressed presentably enough today, his wild hair is still rebelliously loose, and a few stray locks fall into his eyes when his head jerks up at Han Eul’s sudden entrance.

---He looks just as shocked to see her there.

For a long, awkward instant, the hapless pair can only blink owlishly at each other, until years of unforgiving etiquette-training finally takes over, and Han Eul bows, hurriedly backing out.

“I’m—I’m sorry,” she stammers out gracelessly, even as her panicked thoughts clamour for attention in her head. When did he come back? Why was he here? He was never at home in the afternoon! “I didn’t think you’d be—since you—I mean, that is to say—I’ll… I’ll go.”

“No, stop!” he calls out suddenly, instantly halting her nervous retreat. There is an almost unsteady, hesitant quality to the brashly forceful tone. “Just—Just wait a moment.“

Han Eul turns, expectant. This is the most he’s ever said to her.

She watches, wide-eyed with surprise, as her husband pushes aside some books to make room for her at the aged gingko-wood desk.

Slowly, he swallows, his dark gaze flitting to hers before just as quickly flitting away.

“You—“ he mutters lowly. “…You can stay.”

o.o0o.o

You can stay.

o.o0o.o

So maybe he doesn’t love her. So maybe she doesn’t love him. But they still have a lifetime ahead to learn to love each other.

Maybe someday they’ll be brave enough to meet halfway. Maybe someday the carefully constructed spheres of ‘yours’ and ‘mine’ will fall, fading into ‘us’ and ‘we’ and ‘ours’. Maybe someday they’ll have children, a little boy and a little girl with his proud nose and her dimpled smile. And maybe, just maybe, they’ll be a family, and this will be home.

It is not a happily-ever-after.

…But it is a beginning.

o.o0o.o

Stay.

o.o0o.o

Author’s Note:

In direct contrast to yesterday's Tofu-dish of 'Practice Makes Perfect' crack XD, this is me trying my hand at what is probably my most historically-accurate and realistic piece of SKKS work yet. It is also the fastest piece of writing I’ve ever produced, and heavily unedited, so you’ll probably find that it’s my worst piece of work as well. T_T As in the case of ‘Silence’ – the idea, I think, was a good one, even though the execution leaves much to be desired.

Although arranged marriages seem so archaic and barbaric to most of us now, I have an Indian friend with cousins for whom arranged marriages – yes, even an arranged marriage with a complete stranger – are still very much a reality. But the thing is, she tells me, often these marriages work out very well. Sure, it might not be the quick-fire flash of attraction and love-at-first-sight that girls always dream of, but oft-times, it is the quiet companionship and respect of two people who slowly grow to love each other.

…And who’s to say that isn’t the best love of all?

(Han Eul is So Eun in my head.)