Notes: For you, who also thought the show needed more of Soo's POV. Also, by the end of the fic, my two cents of Fix-It.

Written for SHRMonth on Tumblr, Week 3.

The first draft of this fic was from 2016... It took me almost two years to finish it. I mean, I dropped this and just now I came back to it. I still have many feelings about Moon Lovers, even now, and maybe that's why is still one of my favorite kdramas.

Rage, rage against FFNET system, that messes up my formatting. Cross-posted on AO3.

Let this be my last word, that I trust in you love.

i.

When I let you go, my love, it is not for the kingdom's sake, nor for the future I know.

When I let you go, it's so I can save you.

When I let you go, it's because deep down I know, I know:

You are not mine.

I wrap myself in royal robes.

In my head, in my hair, there rests my hairpin, my only crown –

your love.

ii.

My So, my love, I always think about that day when we first lay beside each other:

Your hand delicately caressed my knee and it ached, but not because of the pain. Your mouth landed on my wrist, holding the closed cut like a lifeline.

I traced you scar with my lips, instead of my fingertips. I'd hoped that when I kissed the skin under your eye, you remembered not the wound beneath the scar, but the first time I ever touched your face.

Sometimes, I think of that two days as a glimpse of a dream, as a shadow of another lives caged on the wall, cast by that fragile light.

My love, all I ever wanted was a simple life, together with you. To live somewhere you could see the sea, where we could have a small garden, and you wouldn't have to bear the weight of a scar, a mask, or a crown.

But this – this is greed, my love.

iii.

I take every stone thrown at you, I take every stone you thrown away, I take every stone we found along the way, and I build this sanctuary, made of prayers carved on rocks.

This is how I pray.

iv.

Even now, among the silence of the things we don't say, I love you.

As each day passes, I love you more than before.

We don't know yet, but this will be the last time.

My fingers drown in the waves of your hair down,

your mouth leaves a moan

on my throat.

I bite our poem on your collar bone.

My arms cage you in my body.

My hands wander, then, in the maps of your scars,

all the roads you've been through before.

I wish I could change the past.

I hope I can change the past.

In the dark,

we touch each other.

We're scared.

But this, your body pressed against mine,

this is sacred.

And we believe.

v.

In the tradition of the women before me, I pay every step of the way with my body.

Myung Hee Unnie gave her lungs for her husband to breath.

Lady Oh swallowed the scorn of the other woman of the man she loved.

Lady Seon Dok opened her chest to receive the sword meant for her first love.

Chae Ryung paid with her flesh for the crimes of a man who didn't love her in return.

Woo Hee-yah shattered her blood between two worlds – of her people and of the man she loved.

They're all me.

I offered my wrist and my knees.

The walls of the palace took it, devoured it, asked me

how much more

I can give.

And all I have left is my heart and my beliefs.

Must I kill myself in order to survive?

I don't need any visions to foresee the future:

I'm becoming the ghost of myself.

I'm the string used again and again, against you.

I'm praying that Lady Oh's child

doesn't come to take mine.

But in this room, I'm only allowed to wait.

I refuse.

I'll protect what I want.

Those words were carved on my pulse,

they were the necklace of rope Lady Oh wore in my place, on the day the rain came.

In the tradition of the women before me, I paid every step of the way with my body.

I don't care if this makes me graceless, undeserving, less worthy of love

Before another's eyes.

I wear my scar with pride.

My pulse rests on my belly.

Dear Baby, this is my promise to you:

I'll protect what I want.

vi.

Her Majesty, Yeon Hwa, isn't the first.

I remember His Majesty, Jeongjong, saying to me

it's all my fault.

I'm not naïve.

I know that the queen, the Eight Prince, the latter king,

I know that each of them had made a choice of their own.

But I can't shake off the feeling that I could have done something more.

My love, I tried.

I hid Eun-nim and Lady Seon Dok, and didn't tell you because I was afraid.

The vision of you slicing your young brother

had haunted me years and years before.

I had seen how you knelt before the latter king, betraying your oldest brother

in order to save my life.

I was afraid that His Majesty, Jeongjong, would use me, once more,

to force you to do the unforgivable.

But all my attempts were in vain.

Thinking that I could change the past,

Maybe I just sealed our fate.

It was the trap set by the king,

it was the desperate plead of Eun-nim,

it was my hands

that made yours

shed the blood of your blood.

Maybe if I told you earlier where Eun-nim and his wife were hidden,

you could have found another way.

Even now, I wonder and wonder and wonder

and wonder.

The blood on your hands

is also on mine.

Why can I see the future

if I can't change anything

if I can't save

anyone?

Why didn't you tell me about Chae Ryung before it was all done?

I see you separating your younger brother and your mother in her last moments,

I see you sending Jung-nim away in exile,

I see you sewing a web of lies to kill a brother.

The history books describe you

as a murderous king.

They don't know about the scar on your face,

or that when you smile, your eyes make half-moons.

They don't know how you like to trace constellations in the night sky

with your fingers,

trying to reach their light.

They don't know how hurt you were,

how you loved.

Why can I see the future if I can't save

at least

you, my love?

vii.

I kneel.

At the path leading to the palace, in protest, Save Lady Oh, I beg. Or kill me instead.

Neither of my wishes comes true. The rain comes, and I try to melt with the water. Wash me away, I beg. And then, you come to me, your arm as my shelter. Your presence makes the bones in my shoulders stand straighter.

But then, far away, the bell mourns. A scream rips me from inside out. My wounds open, but it is not my blood, it's her blood, it's her blood that spill from them, and you shelter me from myself.

I kneel.

You confess to me your greed. If the king changes, you say, the world can change.

In you, greed and greatness are one.

If in this new world, I can be with you, my love.

In me, greed and selfishness walk together, so I proclaim, with all my strength, in a trembling voice, Live long the King.

I kneel.

I ask, Save the Eighth Prince, Your Majesty, and what I mean is, I know you're hurt. I know you're angry. I understand. I understand the hatred and the thirst for revenge. The pain. But I know you're a good person. I know you're better, my love.

I ask, Let me save you.

I kneel.

This is how I pray.

viii.

In retrospect, maybe I had already known

since the first drop of rain after the drought.

On that time, I had thought,

This boy, this man,

he will break my heart.

For a long time I was afraid of you.

I was afraid of loving you,

knowing that you would break my heart.

Only when it was too late, I realized

I already loved you.

And I realized, too,

That it was not you that would break my heart.

It was me who decided to set free this love from inside of myself,

It was me who chose to live my love for you.

It was me who would break

my own heart.

ix.

After all,

I entered the water

to save a child.

I'm drowning.

You don't come to see me.

And yes, that's right.

Do not approach me, my love.

If you're close to my touch,

I'll hold onto you,

I won't let you go,

and we'll sink together.

I don't say (how much I love you).

I don't breath (your name).

I don't wave (you a goodbye).

Do not approach me, my love.

I chose this.

I'm drowning

because I entered the water

to save our child.

x.

Goryeo is an arid land,

that dries our arms like branches without leaves,

that makes our throats raw and thirsty for some relief.

The earth cracks, waiting for the water.

I, too, break, waiting for someone who won't come.

"When the water has run dry,

Sit and watch for the rising clouds."

My love, you, heaven-chosen,

are the one who brings the rain.

And when it finally comes,

I close my eyes and inspire,

deeply,

the scent of the wet earth,

even though I'm not part of this land.

Your last words to me echo in my ears,

I never want to see you again.

Your eyes were watering, then.

Maybe you don't love me anymore.

I try to comfort myself that I have, at least,

the saltwater drops of your eyes:

at least once,

I saw the ocean with you.

xi.

Somehow, my song, which left years ago, took shelter in your ear,

it was passed down to the people, mouth to mouth,

like a kiss, like a fairytale,

and found its way back to me.

Once upon a time, the king fell in love with a court lady.

My Seol isn't a princess, she doesn't belong to fairytales,

and for that, I know she will have her own happy ending.

At least, I could protect her.

This is my only comfort.

This is my lullaby,

and that's why my song came back to me.

Some of our love survived, despite everything:

there's a piece of us that live in her,

and I

I still love you.

In my next life, I'll forget that.

In my next life, I'll forget everything,

even in my dreams.

(Because in my dreams,

you carry our child in your arms,

with peace in your smile,

and I am by your side.

But this is an impossible

and sad dream.)

And maybe this pain will come to an end.

(I don't want to dream.)

My eyes are as heavy as my heart.

I close my eyes,

and you are not there,

you are not here.

You didn't come.

And it's not you,

but death

that kisses me to sleep.

xii.

"Life is like a dream."

xiii.

When I woke up,

My mother said it was a miracle, a fairytale.

She said, "God must kissed you to open your eyes."

I had been in coma for a year.

I try to adjust myself in my own limbs,

in my own skin.

Teach my legs how to stand the weight of heart,

teach my hands how to take

this chance I've got.

But, sometimes, I feel like my body isn't my own.

Like my life does not belong to me.

xiv.

I should be terrified of sleeping, as I had been in coma.

Yet, I yearn for it.

It is only there where I meet you.

You – a face without a name,

a voice without sound,

a ghost without memories.

I have only scattered pieces of you:

the scar craved in your face,

the dark hair falling on your back, like folded wings.

Words that you say to me in my dreams, but that I forget in the morning, no matter how much I try not to.

Questions that remain and grow in my throat:

Who are you,

where are you,

what you are to me.

Maybe because I had drowned before,

when I have these dreams

I always wake up with tears in my eyes.

Maybe I'm becoming mad.

How can I miss someone I don't even know?

Still, before I go to sleep, I find myself always asking,

Please. Come. Come back to me.

xv.

It's like I'm dreaming awake.

Sudden visions, coming and going. Then, that strange man, saying strange words… that everything would go back to where it belonged.

Shaking, I'm dismissed from work. I wander through the hall, and don't know exactly how I go there.

The historical exposition.

My feet lead me there before I know it. The first picture brings to me voices, masks, a ritual. This time, it's my heart that trembles. It's not a dream. I can't help but see. For each picture, there's a memory. Goryeo, the princes, Lady Oh, Seol, you, you, you. You're not a dream.

I can barely see through the tears, but I keep remembering. Something within me breaks, but I yearn for this; I've yearned for this, ever since I had awaked from the coma. Now, I'm awake. Now, I know you're not a dream. Give me everything, even if it hurts.

It's not the weight of two lives that make my knees bend – it's the vision of your back, alone.

You were alone.

I want to be there with you. By your side. Despite everything, because of everything. I want to meet you again.

"I'm sorry, So."

For how long did I weep?

For how long I couldn't get up?

I want to see you.

I miss you.

I remember.

I remember you, So.

All this time, I thought you weren't there.

That you wouldn't come.

But you've been always here,

inside of me.

"If we had met in another world and at another time…"

That was my promise to you.

I'll find you.

And this time, I won't let you go.

xvi.

Maybe it's destiny, or lucky, or chance, or fate.

I call it love.

Finally, I found you.

You're crying, and I get close to you. Dry your tears with my fingertips. I'm crying too, but I smile.

I say, "I dreamed of you".

The history is behind us now, though we'll always carry it in our hearts.

But the story from now on belongs only to us.

We have time. To forgive each other and forgive ourselves. To be anything we want. To go anywhere. To be together. To walk through different paths and meet each other, again and again.

In this life and the next, and the next, and the next, we keep all of our promises.

xvii.

You're the love of all my lives.

Notes 2: The "v" section is totally based on this post by overthinkingdrama, on tumblr: (/) post/152546803617/scarlet-heart-ryeo-episodes-16-18

I think her analysis about kdramas, and especially Moon Lovers, are always very insightful and worth the read. So my thanks to her, for always sharing her thoughts about the dramaland.

Title's from poem 326 of Rabindranath Tagore's "Stray Birds". I exchanged "thy love" for "your love", because I thought it worked better as the fic's title.