whatever you wish for

Summary: She has to learn to separate herself from her bodyguard. Drabble- Hak, Yona. A still-born promise. Set during chapter 52.

Warning: Drabble.

Set: During Vol 09 Ch 52 Where there is a will there is a way. Exploring the dilemma Hak faces: teach Yona the way of the sword, or honor her father's wishes.

Disclaimer: Standards apply. Dialogue is taken from the chapter.

For Dino-Rogue. Your review absolutely made my day. Thank you!

What in the name of the Holy Dragons –

On second thought: scratch that. To hell with the Holy Dragons! Those beasts were overprotective, childish, perverted, stupid idiots anyway. What in the name of everything that was holy was this girl planning now? Son Hak was used to his Princess', on time, rather whimsical behavior, but sometimes even he couldn't fathom was going on behind those beauty- ahem, behind those eyes of hers.

"Zeno will sleep next to Yona tonight!"

A smile, too wide to not make his heart contract painfully, too familiar to not have him notice the traces of grief that lingered in her smile; that accompanied her wherever she went. "Thanks, but Hak's good."

Sighing, her personal bodyguard pretended to be or to not be embarrassed/triumphant/desperate and prepared for a long night.

Even if he could have slept with her so close – her soft breathing in his ears, her red curls tickling his neck – he would have noticed her moving. He couldn't help it. Her sight, her voice, even the tiniest of movements – it was like she was a part of him he knew by heart. It made it difficult for him to leave her out of his sight, because he knew her penchant for getting into trouble only too well. It wasn't that she was predictable and yet nothing she ever did surprised him very much. Maybe it was exactly because he expected her to surprise him, so he never was surprised when she did something he hadn't been able to predict. It was just the way she was. He hadn't been able to trust her angelic smile when she said good night and as usual, his suspicions turned out to be correct. Damn him, that girl had a stubborn streak as wide as the kingdom.

"If you are going to sneak up on me in my sleep, Princess, can't you do it sexier?"

Hak managed to tone his voice down to a whisper despite the spike of something that shot through him when his hand clamped down on hers over the hilt of his dagger. In the moonlight, her flame-colored hair was a stark contrast to her pale skin. Her expression was devoid of surprise, as well, merely a tad embarrassed. But not apologetic.

"If I can't even do this, how are you going to agree on teaching me swordsmanship?"

It hurt. For a tiny, tiny second – one Hak hadn't even really allowed himself to feel – he'd really thought she'd chosen him to sleep next to because of their history. Because they were friends; because he was her protector. But she didn't want him. She wanted his knowledge and his experience and his strength, but not him. And while he usually would have told her, laughing, that anything of his was hers to use, he couldn't do it then and there.

Yona, the Crown Princess of the Empire of Kouka, was looking at him with her steady, violet eyes, her hand so small under his and yet so firmly grasping a weapon that could end lives just like one like it had ended her father's life. She had seen so many people being killed by the instruments of war, had seen her father dead by her beloved cousin. She had been chased across the country and had almost died so many times Hak consciously had to decide not to count because the result would leave him reeling. She had seen children lifeless in their parents' arms. She had been caught by a slave trader and had killed him with her own hands, with the bow whose use he had taught her. And with every weapon she mastered, with every ounce of strength she found in herself, she gained more enemies. The more she put herself out there, able to defend herself, the more she would be in danger.

And the thought alone was terrifying.

He was no one. He was Son Hak, orphan raised by the Wind Tribe. He had given up his claim on the title of one of the Five Generals when he left Castle Hiryuu. He had given up his claim to the name of his adoptive father when he left the Wind Clan. He was simply Hak, the Thunder Beast, loyal to no one but to her. And he had vowed to protect her. He had sworn to fight for her. He would do whatever she asked of him – except for this. He couldn't. He couldn't teach her to fight when it exposed her like that. And, even more: he couldn't teach her swordsmanship when her father himself, who had hated any kinds of physical struggle, had pleaded with him to keep her safe from the violence of weapons.

(No. Not the violence of weapons: the violence of men. Always men, because a sword without someone to wield it was just a piece of folded steel.)

"Hak. Please. I need strength. Teach me the sword."

(Men with swords like Hak killed girls like her every day-)

Princess Yona of Kouka bowed her head to him.

Hak's train of thought came to a screeching, complete stop.

Don't.

It went straight through him like a lightning bolt: the impossibility of their situation.

The utter wrongness of it.

She couldn't do something like that: not in this lifetime, not ever. Not when she had insisted he be the only one to continue calling her Princess, not when she wanted him to be the one person to see her as Princess, not simply as Yona. Because she needed someone to remember her father, someone to remind her that she was her father's daughter. She'd chosen him - her oldest ally, her personal bodyguard. And he was fine with that, despite the chasm her title opened up between the two of them. Maybe exactly because of it. Hak was her bodyguard, her servant and her tool, hers to use and to command. He would die for her – it was something he had promised her silently every second of every day since they had left the castle. Looking at the broken, betrayed girl who had gathered all her courage and determination; this young, sheltered princess who had lost everything and still fought on in order to help others, he couldn't feel anything but overwhelming love. Hak had loved his Princess since he could remember; since she had been the small, carefree child he'd gotten to know when he was six years old. Now, there was more to her. There was strength in her fragile arms, iron determination in her eyes. Her body and her mind both had been steeled equally by their travels and adventures and while he hated the circumstances that had brought them to this more than he could say, he, at the same time, admired the girl in front of him for what she had achieved so far.

Her father hadn't wanted for her to learn either archery or swordsmanship. Her father had wanted her to grow up sheltered and safe, had wanted to protect her from the cruelty of mankind. It was the one reason Hak hadn't taught Yona the way of the sword despite her frequent demands that he did so. Because he had honored her father's wishes and her father's legacy, he had refused to teach her more than archery.

And yet suddenly, looking into her beautiful eyes, Hak found that he couldn't put up any further resistance to her request.

She was her father's daughter in so many aspects, had inherited so much from him: the air-headedness, the stubbornness. The silliness, even. Emperor Il's kindness shone from Yona's eyes and his strength was mirrored in the set of her shoulders. The deceased ruler of Kouka had loved his daughter with all his heart and soul. And Hak, too, loved her – loved her as the only person his heart would ever set on, more than he loved his tribe, more than the world, more than life itself – but he did not love her like a daughter. As much as he respected his Emperor and as much as he despised the events that had lead them to this: he did not serve Emperor Il anymore. He served Princess Yona of Kouka instead. And she had to be able to protect herself by any means possible. If she died before him, Hak was pretty sure there was no way he would be able to continue living.

But then she bowed to him, her head low, her hands fisted to keep them from shaking, and Hak made his decision in a matter of seconds.

Don't ever do this again.

"Don't you ever lower your head to me like that again!"

His voice came out like a whip, sharp and cracking, and he could see the flash of surprised shock on her face as he grabbed her by her shoulders and drew her upright again. Something like pain shone in her eyes and he tried to loosen his grip on her upper arms but couldn't stop himself from shaking her slightly.

"You are a princess! You don't lower your head to anyone like that!"

She only stared at him, silent; Soo Won's betrayal, the pain of losing her father and her home and her grief at the loss of a child's life clear in her eyes. And Hak wanted to draw her in, wanted to wrap his arms around her, hold her, tell her everything would be fine and never let go. But it wouldn't have helped her, he knew that. She was looking at him like she always did: searching for an answer in his face, expecting him to have a solution to her dilemma. Trusting in him to have a miracle at hand that would solve their impossible situation. And because he loved her, he gave it to her.

"Order me to teach you and I won't refuse."

Her royal heritage never was more apparent than then. "Teach me the sword, Hak. That's an order."

Hak dropped to his knees, bowing his head. Short from dying for her, it was the only way he could show her his reverence.

He'd do anything to keep her from bowing her head to him again like that. He'd do anything to keep her alive. She was not a helpless little girl anymore, not a lost princess who didn't know the world but, very much so, the cruelty of men. She had people who traveled with her now, who loved her and would die for her. It wasn't his place to keep her from the dangers of the world, because the world was what she had to face. Hak's job was to protect her from the shadows, and the Dragons would do the rest. He had to let her go – she needed to find her own way. She needed to learn not to lean on him too much. The Princess had to learn to separate herself from her bodyguard.

"As you command."

At the same time he knew he would never be able to separate himself from her.