The Child of Namyrur - Chapter 10.1 (Continuation)
Title: The Child of Namyrur
Author: white_coral
Rating: PG
Summary: The history have written dark times and speak of the feud between the Nairn Kingdom and the Namyrur Kingdom. There are stories told upon children that either were to blame for the war that ensued. However, only few are left with the real truth. Time has passed and now, one of the fallen Namyrurians will see to the vows they made come true and retells a new history. But he'll have to deal with the obnoxious Prince Minho beforehand.
Embarrassingly, Taemin woke up whimpering and crying- a rare occasion as opposed to the many times he screamed himself awake. The whole travelling company shared a room for the night and when he look to his side, he saw Prince Minho and Sir Ernold lie still in deep sleep. He breathed out thankfully and got out of bed to compose himself. Taemin could feel the cold wind seeping from under the bedroom door and he threw on Minho’s longcoat, since it was warmer, before leaving quietly.
Poor light of dawn let him see scarcely anything before his eyes adjusted to the sombre environment and he immediately knew it was still very early in the morning. He guessed Truce hasn’t woken up yet or the house would have bustled in everyday business. He climbed downstairs and blinked in surprise when the front door jolted open- in walked Haym, a rare smile plastered on his aged face.
Upon noticing Taemin perusing him, Haym stared back in silence, his smile now masked behind his usual stoic expression. Taemin half expected the man to bound him to secrecy, like he had caught someone with a hand in a cookie jar but nothing came.
“You’re up early.” The young warlock finally said with a hoarse voice.
“As are you. Nightmare again?” Haym replied when he noticed the boy’s bloodshot eyes, closing the door behind him.
Taemin hummed dismissively, barring the topic from rising and bounded down the steps to pour himself a mug of water from a pitcher on the dinner table.
“Did you went to see Howl?” He guessed and grinned when Haym paused his steps up the stairs. The physician hummed dismissively like he did before carrying on his way. Fathers, Taemin mused. He gulped down mouthfuls of water and upon withdrawing the mug from his lips, saw the reflection of his weary visage on the rippling water.
Frowning, he emptied the mug on his face and wiped the dripping water on the sleeve of the coat. Then realized it was Minho’s and groaned to himself. His ass is going to pay for that.
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Sir Ernold tied the provisions on the horse, its tail swishing in the air excitedly as it dipped its head into the bucket of oats Hill had provided him. Haym had slipped and gone off somewhere again in the late course of the morning. The villagers buzzed in their daily demeanours, casting curious but monotonous glances at the strangers that they weren’t aware had spent a night in Ebycir. Of course if it came to their knowledge that the travellers were Prince Minho and his little, insignificant entourage, situation would have differed.
Taemin was leaning on a wood post, hugging himself to retain warmth in the cold winter’s breath when the devil himself came to spook him.
“Are you ever gonna return me that long coat?” Minho probed.
“Sure, I’ll put it on you personally when your coffin is readied.” That cheekiness earned Taemin a knock behind his head. He groaned in displeasure and punched Minho’s arm. He stuck out his tongue just to add his naughtiness which was a horrible idea because now Minho is pulling on the wet, warm muscle. Taemin threw a fit, whining as he tried to form coherent words and batting on the jerk’s chest in anger. Minho merely snickered, tinged heavy with playfulness reserved solely for his manservant.
“Will this ever desist?” Haym stated as he passed by and Minho let go, but his victory grin stayed intact. Taemin cradled his jaw, a scowl decorating his expression and he stomped on the prince’s left foot before running off a little distance. Minho bent forward, grunting, hopping on one foot with little grace he had left and looked up to see Taemin sticking his tongue at him again.
“Why, you little piggy… Come back here!” Then they were off for another merry chase.
“I suppose it will not.” Haym answered dimly to the question he himself had put forth. Approaching the knight who was snickering to himself as he observed the brawl between his liege and his friend, Haym handed him a small sack and told him to put it away amongst the provisions.
“What is it?” Sir Ernold enquired, rolling the brown sack in his hand curiously.
“Just something I rec- … picked up.” The old man answered before walking away. Sir Ernold pursed his lips and did as he told. Once he had made sure everything was packed and intact, double-checking again as habit pulled; the Knight went around the house to find his liege to report. He found Taemin instead, hiding in the pantry who squeaked at his entrance.
“Good job, Ernold.” A voice came from his behind and Minho’s hand reached in front, flicking Taemin’s temple before an insinuation could fall from the boy’s lips.
“Ernold you mean oaf!” Taemin bellowed, crestfallen. The knight merely giggled and pat his shoulder.
“Glad to be of your service.”
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After bidding goodbye to Truce and Hill, consisted mostly of the madam encasing Taemin in a long, air squishing hug, the group went off for their journey back, one horse trailing behind as they traverse the open farm fields and into the dense forest.
By midday, Taemin had stumbled affront and caught his face buried in Minho’s muscular back, who was a few steps before him. The prince jolted a little in surprise but a firm footing and a hand reaching back to support Taemin helped the boy to regain balance. The young warlock felt jabs of pain on his bad foot and winced when he pushed to stand upright. Noticing this, Minho called for a rest although Taemin knew they could make a good distance from here if they hadn’t.
“Sit down and let Haym help.”
“I’ll be fine. In a couple of minutes, the pain will go away.”
“That’s good because I’m always on your front steps to catch you from falling.” Minho replied with sarcasm.
“Ghh…” Taemin grunted, finding no voice to argue and frankly, a little embarassed.
But when they resumed their travel, Taemin realized that Minho always did walk a few steps in front of him, maintaining space but never further than an arm’s reach in every few minutes. And in a number of occasion, Taemin would press a hand on the trustful back to ease himself on some paths and Minho let him, without saying a word. His back screamed ‘trust me’ and Taemin found little pleasure in realizing that he can.
They carried on a steady pace for two days, which was something to be thankful for since their awful encounter with the bandits, and the day dwindled by in a monotonous hint, never dull nor merry in standard. It had rained on the third day, bristling the journey with more icy bite to the skin as wet tunics clung to their body, having found no shade in the vast clearing of Valhill Province as soon as they break through the forest walls. Rests were frequent, albeit short, and they allowed Taemin to gather his strength on his foot before carrying on. It wasn’t advisable to travel with him in his condition but obligation called and return to the castle at the moment’s instance was imperative- for Prince Minho, Sir Ernold and Haym, that is. Taemin was, in a way, a dying candlelight of a lantern slowly sinking into quicksand. At least that’s the best he could interpret his agony at the moment. Dying is perhaps an exaggerated euphemism since he was immortal at the moment. Taemin couldn’t even laugh at his own cold joke.
Usually if he was hurt, walking and feeling the wild wind would take his mind off it. It didn’t help that walking itself was the source of his physical torment. And since the air became stonier as moons pass, a blowing wind was bitter cold and definitely not godsend. What made him worse for wear were the nightmares. Since he had adapted to life in the castle, beside the living comfort of Onew, the darkness that he took as his second skin had crept away deftly and in its absence, were a good night’s rest and a hushed morning. Something normal people took for granted. There was no screaming. There was no crying, his tiny body quaking in shivers of fright or his heart thumping like it wants to leave its confines. Now it all came back as deftly as it had left and in its wake- there was no space for Taemin’s mental comfort. He wanted nothing more than to see Onew and feel his warm hand over his head and telling him it was going to be alright, that it’s not his fault- nothing more than that- not even Minho’s blood all over him, dripping down his hands.
“-your dinner.” Came a voice snapping his conscious back to present.
“Huh?” Taemin squeaked, looking up to see Haym handing him a bowl of a sweet smelling stew with a slice of bread prepped on one side. “Thanks...” He took them carefully, sighing at the warmth that crept from the morsel.
It was the fifth night of their journey back and the skies were lit with tiny dots of stars from all the clearing the rain had caused ever since it ceased. Minho discussed their progress and the route that they were taking from here on forth, a bit roundabout, but necessary to make the excursions around the province to meet Minho’s commitments as Prince. Taemin was displeased and he showed it with a bite to Minho’s forearm and another round of merry chase begun. The other two companions merely looked on with a sigh and a snicker and for a little while, it felt okay.
Taemin chanted like a prayer in his head, calling for patience in his passage of his legacy, tethering him to an edge he could find no way out from; Hang tight, you’ll be fine. Hang tight, Onew’s there to catch. Hang tight, it’s not like you never dreamt for it. Hang tight, because the child will see it done.
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A/N: I don't even know where to begin. :|
I am very thankful for all the support I get for this fanfic, for all the new subscribers that leave kind messages, never pressuring me and assuring me, and especially for all my readers who are willing to wait for me all this while. I'm very thankful to you guys, you guys are seriously the best of the best and you deserve a better author than me. I am really sorry for not updating. I have no excuse to put forth. It's just a simple case of a slump, a blockage, I could not write without feeling like shit about it and erasing it an hour later. I didn't want to let you guys read crap. And I know it sounds lame, but trust me it happens. Lots of stuff happens at college that takes my mood away too and if im on holiday, I just waste a way in my room doing stuff but not writing(my biggest regret cuz I lost a whole year).
How I came back from the dead, you ask? My therapy consisted of a lot of RPG games and manga and anime. Awesome fanfics from lotsa fandom being the biggest contributor and me feeling like shit cuz I exclaim I'm a writer too but can't bring myself to associate with these awesome writers. Bless them and their brain.
Thank you, really, for putting up with me. The story may be on a standstill at the moment, but I need to write it down for the sake of its continuation. There's more to come. This is chapter 10.1. I'm working on the second half cuz the story took a different turn in my mind. I hope it still read fine and don't be shy to talk about the plot with me. If you find some corners not strong enough, do comment, so I can see where improvement needs attention. I know you guys like a preview, so I'll just drop that we'll see some new rugged handsomeness in the next chapter. :D
And I need to ask, are you guys comfortable with smut in this fanfic? Just checking.
Love you guys! Kisses and hugs! -Shiroizumi