Arabian Nights (Au!Fic) 8/8
Jongwoon hates riding horses.
If given the option, he’d much rather have traveled on foot, his own legs more reliable than that of the slightly unruly stallion that he’s picked up. The thing has tried to buck him off three times so far in his hour of riding, and he’s taken to digging his boots just a bit harder to keep from flying into the trees and becoming irreparably lost.
And it would be incredibly difficult to get two people all the way back to the palace in the span of two days on foot, and Jongwoon would rather not have to deal with carrying Ryeowook some ten miles on his back. He can think of at least twenty more appealing things to do, not to mention the absolute chaos that would cause.
He thinks of these while glancing at his map, doing all he can to keep any thoughts from lingering on the captured Highness, finding it distracts him more than helps his mission along. Feelings are best left out of matters of business, he decides, and ducks to avoid another branch.
He stops when it gets to dark to navigate, under a half mile from where his map says the supposed group of insurgent’s camp lays, and he debates momentarily to just leave the horse tied to a tree and getting the rest of the way on foot. This idea is quickly thrown out though in favor of a few hours of sleep before the light rays of dawn, as Jongwoon figures he will need to be at full strength for the marathon he’ll surely have to be doing the next day to make it in time for Jungsu’s deadline.
He sighs as he ties the horse to a branch, leaning his back against a sapless tree. He snorts as the distraction of riding is no longer available, and memories of his months in the Prince’s service run through his mind. It’s definitely been his fondest job of sorts, and though he tries to shake off the lingering affection he holds to the Prince. Ryeowook’s determined face flashes through his mind, moments before they were last separated, and he sighs again.
It’s going to be a long couple of hours.
…
Ryeowook thinks that things were really going quite well until he was clubbed in the back of the head.
He had even managed to make it to the audience chamber, no small feat in itself during a siege, and was ready to take control of the chaos when a suspicious hand yanked his robe and he heard a laugh suspiciously like Chancellor Park’s before being knocked out cold.
He just knew that bastard would be his undoing.
Upon coming to, he found himself slung over the front of a horse, not unlike a sack of rice, and lets loose every curse in the book before realizing that his hands and legs had been bound, making escape a useless endeavor. The insurgent sneers down at him under his helmet, jeering about how ‘high and mighty their dear Prince must feel now’ and Ryeowook finds himself wishing that lightning would simply strike the usurper, but figures that the divine right of kings must not work that way, as nothing happens. He’s about to release another colorful stream of curses directed at the man and his family, when a particularly low branch crashes right into his head, sending him back into the blackness.
He comes awake for good at their supposed camp, listening to them revel in their ‘victory’ of being able to steal the First Prince of the kingdom from right under the Royal Guard’s noses, drinking to their success and having the fun of harassing him. Regaling him with tales of the ransom they’ll make, only to kill him in the end anyway, laughing as the look on his face never changes from completely impassive. They practically croon over the various jewels left about his person, remarking that the soon to be deceased have no need for such precious jewels.
While silently lamenting the loss of his various necklaces and bangles, Ryeowook tries not to dwell on the drunken paws edging closer to his face, murmuring about his high cheekbones and slim figure. He nearly growls at the wandering hands, and gets a slap for his trouble, only causing the men to laugh and jeer even more, all taking their turns at him till he lay battered and bruised near the fire, though his eyes still alight with determination, having not said a word the whole night.
The guard standing watch seemed to take a particular joy in his suffering, even roping him into conversation.
“So Highness,” it’s said mockingly and Ryeowook sighs, wondering how much more of this he’ll have to deal with. “How does it feel to have been left all alone by your kingdom? Clearly no one is coming to rescue you; it must be nice to face impending death.” Ryeowook stays stoic until a sharp kick is given to his stomach.
“He’ll come,” The Prince simply states, curling in to avoid the boot once more.
“That’s a riot Highness; no one is going to come for you now. You’re just a spoiled brat of this damn system that no one cares about, and soon it’ll all be fixed.” The man grins down at him and Ryeowook scoffs, lunacy seems to know no bounds in these times. He simply repeats his same sentence, and the guard regales him with tales of his worthlessness for the remainder of the hour, before growing bored and walking off to find other entertainment. The Prince spends no time pondering the words handing to him, he truly believes that Jongwoon will come for him, and can only hope it’s for more than some sense of duty.
Ryeowook snorts at being finally left alone and falls into a fitful sleep as the night continues to darken, awoken only at a small grunt from the previous night’s watch as light has barely began to cross the horizon.
His eyes widen as the guard’s stunned face lands next to him, a large gash marking his neck from a familiar knife. Ryeowook grins and whispers to him as the light dies from his eyes, “I told you he would come.”
“Well Highness, not to hurry you along or anything, but we really nee to go before the rest of your lovely friends wake up and notice this poor sap.” Jongwoon hurriedly cuts the bonds on his legs and feet before huffing in frustration at Ryeowook’s own attempts to get up, throwing him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes to a small wince on the Prince’s part, which makes Jongwoon’s eyes narrow slightly, but decides he doesn’t have time to properly examine Ryeowook’s condition, in favor of quickly untying his horse and situating Ryeowook in front of him.
Ryeowook feels a sudden swing of vertigo and the world begins to spin as Jongwoon cracks the reigns, leaning back into the older man’s shoulder. “I told him you would come,” Is the last thing he murmurs before letting himself fall back into the blackness, only hoping that Jongwoon is capable enough to make a clean get away.
Jongwoon sighs into his hair, inwardly hoping the same thing. “I’ll always come for you Ryeowook.”
He manages to avoid any following until about halfway through the journey back, inwardly giving himself a four hour leeway of catch up time before they were even. But the stallion cannot go on forever, and Jongwoon ties it to the tree while giving it something to drink from the water skin, allowing a half hour of rest as he props Ryeowook up against him next to the tree, examining his body. The Prince stirs as Jongwoon begins muttering to himself.
“And here you promised me you’d be careful, getting yourself all banged up like this isn’t very careful now is it?” He cuts off part of his sleeve with his knife and wraps it around Ryeowook’s wrist, an attempt at cushioning the bruised appendage. He lays a light kiss on top of it and Ryeowook sighs.
“I was careful; it was an error that brought this whole ordeal about.” Ryeowook winces as Jongwoon’s fingers probe at his stomach, finding the rather large bruise there. “And don’t think any of these bruises are my doing either, it was those idiots who can’t keep their disgusting mitts to themselves.”
Jongwoon’s grip on his arm tightens and Ryeowook winces again. “I should have killed them, I knew it.”
Ryeowook gives a light laugh. “Since when did you become a one man army? And anyway, it’s fine. I’ll send the actual army after them when I get back, I’m sure Sungmin will be more than happy to dismember them for you.”
Jongwoon stiffens at the mention of the head of the guard, but decides to leave it be until they arrive back at the palace, not knowing how his condition has changed since leaving. Before he can lecture Ryeowook anymore of the true meaning of ‘being careful’ when soft lips slide across his own, effectively stopping his train of thought.
“You can lecture me later, shouldn’t we get going again?” Ryeowook says when they part, and Jongwoon nods, unhitching the horse. Ryeowook feels steady enough to get on the horse himself this time, and Jongwoon slips on behind him, arms settling around his waist as he grips the reigns.
He rides quickly through the remainder of the trees and desert, and the guard manning the palace gate nearly shoots them when they ride up, Jongwoon figures he must look like one of the horsemen of the apocalypse with his riding, voice calling down at them.
“There is no admittance to the palace past curfew, leave or I will be forced to call the guard to take you into custody.” Jongwoon snorts, and Ryeowook looks up to make eye contact with the guard, gaze sharp.
“As First Prince of this Kingdom, I demand you open the gate, or I will have the guards take you into custody.” Ryeowook booms in his most commanding voice, and Jongwoon laughs as the guard looks about ready to soil himself as he rushes to crank the bars up.
Jongwoon urges the horse into a slow trot through the gates, handing him off to a passing guard as he jumps off, Ryeowook hopping off next to him and ignoring the proffered hand of help. Jongwoon snorts, muttering about manly pride being the end of the Prince.
He fixes his arm around Ryeowook’s waist when he begins to wobble though, ignoring the growl he gets in return. “Well now Highness, it’s either this or the potato treatment, so pick your poison.”
Ryeowook sighs and lets some of his weight lean on Jongwoon, muttering about the image it must set as Jongwoon ushers him through the palace, and towards the direction of the infirmary.
“Where are you taking me Jongwoon? I need to find Jungsu; this place is bound to have been in chaos since my disappearance.” Ryeowook pushes at him and attempts to turn around, but to no avail.
“You need to get that bruise checked out first; we can’t have royalty breaking ribs. And I believe you said something about talking to Sungmin? Well this is where he’s likely to be.” There’s a questioning look in his direction and Jongwoon sighs. “Just humor me and I promise we’ll be off to see that mother hen and sort through your affairs.”
“What do you mean? What happened to Min?” Ryeowook demands as they walk through the doors and Jongwoon nods in the direction of Sungmin sitting up on one of the cots, Henry wrapping bandages around his torso.
“Highness, you’re back!” Henry’s eyes fall on Ryeowook, widening and a smile lighting his face. “Thank goodness, we were worried. Jungsu wasn’t saying anything, but Sungmin figured it out.”
“Yes,” Sungmin growls, eyes set heard. “And I would beat some sense into you myself, if I wasn’t stuck in this bed.”
“You too Min, it looks like we have some catching up to do for these past events I’ve missed. Now where are Jungsu and Kibum? I need to catch up on the immediate problems that have occurred.”
Sungmin snorts and Henry smacks him on the leg. “Fine, they’re both in the audience chamber arguing with the council in your stead. Half of them seem convinced you’re dead and are trying to put a bid in for themselves, so it may be a good time for a dramatic entrance.” Sungmin and Ryeowook share matching grins and Jongwoon sighs.
“Fine, but you are getting checked out later, if I have to do it myself.” Jongwoon says as Ryeowook hauls him out of the infirmary.
“That sounds more fun anyway.” Ryeowook winks back at him and Jongwoon is glad to see some color back on the Prince’s cheeks, the life coming back into his eyes.
He stays close behind Ryeowook as he scales the steps, watching for the telltale falter of steps that signals a fall, but finds none. The closer they get to the audience chamber, the louder the voices become, and Ryeowook sets his face an impassive mask, ready to fight for what is his, when Jongwoon stops him.
“It wouldn’t be quite right if you weren’t wearing one of these would it?” Ryeowook looks at him confusedly, and Jongwoon fishes the bangle that had been burning a hole in his pocket, slipping it on the other man’s small wrist. The Prince snorts at him, and Jongwoon finds it mildly infuriating.
“Is that all you have to say? I’m going in there to fight for my right to rule the country and make those Chancellors wish they were never born, and that’s all the luck you can give me?” Ryeowook leans in closer with a smirk that could put his own to shame, and practically breathes the words into his mouth.
“Well if you insist,” And Jongwoon wipes that smirk away, feeling Ryeowook’s wrists lock around the back of his neck as he runs his hands up the length of the Prince’s spine, getting a shudder in return. It allows him to taste Ryeowook, sucking lighting on his plush bottom lip before pulling away and breathing into his ear. “There’s your luck.”
Ryeowook just gives him a smile and pokes him on the head. “I have a feeling I’m going to need it.”
Jongwoon watches Ryeowook walk in, head held high, and nearly cackles at how the yelling becomes stone silence, the First Prince commanding the attention of all in the room. And though he watches him stand strong and cut sharp orders in the council’s chamber, he knows that later Ryeowook will fall apart in his arms. Slowly fixing what the kingdom has become, leaning on him.
He’s pretty sure that wasn’t in his job description, but with and exhausted Prince clinging to him in sleep, his own hands carding through that soft brown hair, he finds he’s more than okay with that.
And for the first time in ten years, he’s truly happy.
...
I'll do all my sappy thank yous in the epilogue, so I'll see you all there hopefully! :D Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Comments are absolute love<3