Chapter Text
Emperor Kim Mingyu of the East is a force to be reckoned with. While he lights the path for his subjects, he burns enemy lands to the ground. He is smart, ruthless, and does not rest until he achieves his goals.
In all his conquests, Mingyu has always taken home a prize - some call it collateral damage, some a hostage. He does not care for culture or religion; once he took the sacred totem of an island in the West and dumped it in his palace. The next month, said nation pledged allegiance to the East, with the totem placed safely back in the Western Island. As he sees something he fancies, he goes for it. Kim Mingyu takes whatever he wants, whatever the means.
At this very moment, in the now-abandoned throne room of the Northern kingdom, with the war ongoing just outside the throne room’s door, Kim Mingyu saw him.
With dark hair and wild eyes, the man in front of Mingyu is fighting for his life against a soldier from the East. He holds his sword with both hands, swinging it awkwardly as if it is weighing him down. Mingyu thinks it is a losing battle, but he sees a determined look in his eyes. His features bleed concentration and courage that put Mingyu in a trance. Heaven must have also observed what Mingyu is seeing and decides to favor the struggling man, who is suddenly able to land a clean strike unto the soldier’s leg. Thinking he would see the man deliver the final blow, Mingyu is surprised when he simply pushes the soldier on his back and kicks his sword away.
“You should kill him.” Mingyu says, and the man immediately looks up to where Mingyu’s voice comes from.
Mingyu can tell the exact moment the man realizes who he is. The man’s relieved expression from defeating his enemy turns to rage, his dark eyes spitting hatred. Without a word, he charges towards Mingyu who blocks his attack, all too easily. With one flick of his wrist, he disarms the man, his sword pitifully skidding across the floor. Mingyu smirks, and this seems to enraged the man more as he pulls two daggers, the size no longer than the man’s arm, from under his leg pants and charges again.
This is no fighter, Mingyu muses as he parries the attacks. But well, he’s better with the daggers than the sword, and Mingyu cannot help but laugh out loud at how pathetic the man’s fighting skills are. The man continues his assault, his movements graceful and full of intent. There is a certain allure in the way he wields his daggers, and Mingyu is utterly captivated.
But Mingyu is not a patient man, so with only “Clench your teeth” as a warning, he hits the man square in the jaw, effectively putting him to sleep. The man falls forward right into Mingyu’s arms. He briefly studies the felled man, noting the perfect brows and red lips, stark contrasts against his pale skin, before hauling him to his left shoulder.
“Wonwoo!” he hears someone from behind him says and Mingyu sees the Crown Prince of the North, Seungcheol, by the throne room door. His entrance is followed by a couple of Northern soldiers, but they are soon outnumbered as Eastern men also barge in, intent on protecting their emperor.
“Let go of Wonwoo now!” Prince Seungcheol shouts again, furiously trying to reach them but is being held down by Eastern men.
Ah. From the Crown Prince’s desperate pleas, Mingyu ascertains the identity of the man in his hold.
“I have found my prize. Second Prince of the Northern Kingdom Jeon Wonwoo now belongs to me.”
“Spike him up, I don’t want a whiny prince on the way home.” The emperor orders as he deposits the still unconscious prince to his carriage.
The Eastern troop marched out of the palace without any further resistance from the Northern people. The news that the emperor had taken their prince quickly reached outside and effectively halted the raging, albeit one-sided, war still going on – the sight of the second prince’s limp body perched on the emperor’s shoulder was enough declaration that the East had won.
Mingyu then turns to his General Commander, Xu Minghao, “We leave immediately.”
“Emperor Kim, with all due respect, are you sure about this?” he asks, hands gesturing to the carriage’s direction.
The emperor simply gives the commander a look and enters the carriage.
The travel back to the Eastern kingdom was uneventful, and the emperor is welcomed back by his younger brother who is keen to see what the emperor might have taken home this time. He is always enthusiastic about spoils of the war, having the same eyes with his brother for beautiful things.
“Him,” Mingyu points to the sleeping Wonwoo when Seungkwan asks about the war’s prize.
Seungkwan gawks, “Oh no, no, no, no. Please tell me this is just some commoner you picked out from the street, thought pretty, and decided to take home.”
“Second prince of the north. Pretty, isn’t he?”
“Mingyu!” Seungkwan visibly pales at Mingyu’s declaration and shouts “You have never taken home a living thing, why now!? And a PRINCE to boot!” The emperor only shrugs.
“Okay, so what is he? A war prisoner? Or do you intend to keep him in your office as a trophy?”
“Depositing him to my chambers does not seem a bad idea,” Mingyu states, which earns a glare from his brother.
“Ha. I’ll let your council handle you and this mess.” before Mingyu can retort back, Seungkwan adds, “but he’s really pretty, can he be one of my helpers?”
Mingyu suddenly has a mental image of the prince in commoner’s garments, head bowed down and hands clasped together in front of him, waiting for orders. And oh, it does things to Mingyu, things he does not dare put a name into. One thing is sure though, Mingyu thinks the prince will still look as elegant in an attendant’s uniform as he was wearing royalty clothing. “No” comes the simple response, which Mingyu matches with a wild grin. Seungkwan rolls his eyes and storms off.
-------------
Wonwoo wakes up with a horrible headache, his body feels sore and his jaw hurts. He opens his eyes and is greeted by darkness, immediately realizing that this is not his room. Wonwoo always leaves the window in his room open before he sleeps. He loves to wake up in the middle of the night and gaze to the moon high up on the evening sky. With a jolt, he sits up, and the events from his last waking moments come rushing through him.
Seungcheol rushed in in Wonwoo’s bedroom in the middle of the night, dressed in his royal battle uniform.
“The East is coming. They will be at the gates by dawn.”
Wonwoo felt like he was doused in iced water, saw his imaginary lifeline cut short right in front of him. And maybe that wasn’t metaphorical, the news of the Eastern troop advancing is a sure death sentence. He and Seungcheol had been expecting the East to attack for weeks. They had known the emperor will not stay still after their father had blatantly refused to pledge allegiance to the East, outright injuring one of the emissaries the emperor had sent to the Northern kingdom. Their father was one hard-headed fool, too prideful to serve under a ruler at least three decades younger than him. It is up to Seungcheol, heir to the crown, to clean up his mess and save their kingdom from annihilation. But Seungcheol was not saving anything, they knew it was a losing battle even before it began and fight was futile. They are immensely outnumbered, one is to five. However, as princes of the kingdom, Seungcheol and Wonwoo could not run. They could only face their impending doom with heads high and fight until they were bled dry.
Wonwoo must have worn his heart on his sleeves again as Seungcheol’s demeanor visibly softened, “You don’t have to join the fight you know? This could be your escape, board the next ship leaving for the South before the dawn breaks and leave everything behind.”
Wonwoo could cry right there and then after hearing his brother’s words. Self-less, protective, loving. He knew that Wonwoo was not cut out for the noble life, much more hold a sword and defend the very place that caged him for years.
While Seungcheol took to heart sword fighting men of their status was expected to master, Wonwoo mostly stuck to his book. The first few times he joined Seungcheol to the training grounds, they quickly realized that Wonwoo simply lack the physical attributes to hold a sword up properly. The commander tried to remedy that by making Wonwoo participate in a rigorous regimen to build muscles. While it mostly succeeded in turning Wonwoo’s thin arms to gain strength, it did not make up for the lack of interest later on to learn the art of sword fighting. This time, the commander had no trick up his sleeve. Thus, when Wonwoo told Seungcheol that he will not join future sparring sessions, noting the fact the he had learned a least how to slash and parry an attack, Seungcheol just let him be. Supported him even, as he often visited Wonwoo in the royal library before training.
One day though, Seungcheol summoned him to the training grounds again and presented him two daggers – light and short. “I sure hope you can wield it, I would not know what to do if you still can’t,” Seungcheol said with a laugh as Wonwoo admired the daggers’ marksmanship. “They’re perfect,” he breathed. “Learn to use these,” Seungcheol implored, “learn to defend yourself for when I am not there to protect you.” And if Wonwoo teared up to the sentiment, neither he nor Seungcheol made a comment on it.
Now, staring at his brother again who was looking back at him like Wonwoo was the single most precious thing in the world, Wonwoo smiled, “I will fight by your side, Hyung.” The words ‘I will die with you’ left unsaid.
Seungcheol positioned Wonwoo in the throne room with the King. He told him to be the last line of defense, but they all knew it was the safest place to be, as Seungcheol would definitely not let a soul inside and near his brother. So when two Eastern soldiers slipped through the door, Wonwoo’s heart sank to his stomach. He only hoped that his brother had simply been too occupied to see that enemies had gone past the throne room. Said soldiers sauntered to where Wonwoo and the King currently stood by the throne up the dais, and upon reaching them, the first one immediately decked the King and rendered him unconscious. Wonwoo, seeing his father felled, could not help but imagine Seungcheol in a similar state, praying that he had not met a worse fate. Without thinking, he moved forwards and slashed at the soldier nearest him, the tip of his sword making an ugly cut across the man’s chest. With blood still ringing in his ears, Wonwoo turned to the other soldier, holding his sword with both hands, and attacked. After some time, he was able to injure him by the leg and kicked his sword away. Wonwoo looked down to the downed soldier and thought that Seungcheol would have been proud of him, having been able to defeat two enemies on his own.
“You should kill him.” Wonwoo heard and came face to face with a tall and ominous figure. In his head sat a crown, and Wonwoo saw red.
Much to Wonwoo’s horror, the emperor disarmed him in a blink of an eye, and Wonwoo hated his incompetence more and more by the passing seconds. While he was able to hold his own using his daggers, Wonwoo was made painfully aware that the emperor was just playing him. He smirked and laughed at Wonwoo’s every attack.
“Clench your teeth” were the last words he heard before he blacked out.
Wonwoo is pulled back to the present when he sees shadows moving from under the door. With what little light the outside provides, Wonwoo notices two ceremonial swords hanging in the wall opposite the bed. With a gasp, he takes in the figure head sitting right in the middle of the crossed swords, an eagle - the East nation's symbol.
He is confused as to why he is in enemy territory, dreads what happened to his homeland, to his brother. But before he can spiral down with worry, Wonwoo hears voices nearing the door. He then moves towards the far left of the room where a variety of food is laid out at the table. After picking the shiny silver thing just beside the fork, Wonwoo turns and opens the window, shivering as the night air graces his skin. A few moments later, the door behind him opens and closes with a soft click.
“Had a good nap, little Prince?”
He had only heard the emperor’s voice twice in his life but Wonwoo could recognize it as if he had known him his entire life.
Wonwoo takes a deep breath and grips the metal in his right hand. With an exhale, he turns towards the voice and surges forward.
I will kill you, Kim Mingyu.