taehyung loves his parents, of course he does, but he’s always been a grandma’s boy. even growing up in the palace he was always sneaking out to the lovely little garden house his grandmother insisted on having once she retired from her regency.
but now, the house is empty and when taehyung runs there to cry, to yell and sob and wonder why he can’t simply be let to live, there are no warm arms to hold him. no calloused yet warm hands to stroke his hair and pinch his cheeks, no soft words of wisdom and love to comfort him, no warm cup of tea and hand to hold his as he walks through the garden with red eyes and flushed cheeks.
taehyung misses his grandmother with each passing day but now more than ever as he drapes himself across the old rocking chair she used to sit in by the window to look out over her kingdom.
he’s known since he was a child that he would marry some day and the harsh reality of royalty is that marriage for love is a freedom reserved for people with lives unbound by duty. taehyung doesn’t have grandeur dreams of meeting his true love and marrying happily and ruling his kingdom after his father.
his dreams involve a small house, a cottage to description, with a garden and maybe a stream nearby. his dreams have him living a life free to be who he wishes, to make medicine like his grandmother taught him and grow things, to live life unbound by meetings and rules and strict ideas of what he should and should not do.
even as he makes his way to the carriage that waits for him, steps into the new cage that will take him to a different, bigger one, where he will wed a princess he doesn’t know and marry her for nothing more than the agreement between their parents to share land and resource. a foolish marriage for something they could simply discuss at a table but instead force upon their children to uphold, taehyung at barely twenty one and his bride to be just one spring younger.
he’s heard much about joohyun, irene as she had been nicknamed by her kingdom, and heard about her skill in politics. heard about her beauty and knowledge and talents, in fact, based on watching her activity as crowned heir to her own kingdom taehyung is more than sure she is much more suited and willing to rule than he is. no doubt she will make a great queen, and taehyung wouldn’t make a bad king. he would be kind and fair, open and loving and want nothing more than to protect and provide for his people, but taehyung doesn’t want it. he could go through the motions but it isn’t a life, it’s not his life.
the guards are silent, they don’t speak to him despite his attempts. his jokes are met with silence and his best attempts at engaging conversation met with, at best, a turn of the head before he’s once again ignored.
it’s not worth it really, it’s his parents and their foolish idea that some kind of barrier separates a prince from the very people he’s supposed to learn to rule that keeps them silenced and him from trying anything more. they would be punished and their pain isn’t worth a few moments of mindless chatter to taehyung no matter how dull the sound of the carriage wheels accompanied only by his own sighs.
“we’ll be stopping here for the night my prince. your dinner will be prepared soon. please, rest until then."
"rest from what? sitting? surprisingly i’m not all that tired from doing it for the past day."
he expects no response and is pleasantly surprised with the small huff of laughter the stony faced guard gives before he seems to catch himself and walk away. taehyung is happy with the response and doesn’t dare press his luck for another.
he leaves the carriage with a sigh of relief, contrary to the sighs of boredom and angst that accompanied the carriage wheels, and he stretches his arms above his head, groaning at the pops in his back and shuddering at the cold wind that bites at the thin sliver of stomach revealed by his stretch.
he’d abandoned the traditional prince’s garb of formal clothes and too tight shirts for something comfier for the journey. he’s in simple dark trousers and a cream colored shirt that falls loose and soft across his skin. the front strings are untied leaving the neck loose and low, a much more comfortable contrast to the too-tight form fitted high necks of the silly royal outfits he has to wear around the palace for occasions.
even his hair he’s left undone, ignored the usual neat and tidy style implored by his mother to let it fall just a little bit messy unkempt, the brilliant silver locks that show royalty looking more grey under the fall of dusk.
the spot the guards have deemed safe enough to stop in is a cave, or the mouth of one at least. someone must have deemed it abandoned because two of the guards are setting a tent a bit farther back into it. there’s a fire just in the mouth and one guard seems to be starting a stew of some sort with the pot he’s setting over the newly birthed flames. three more guards are setting more tents around the mouth of the cave, good vantage points for protecting the prince, and two more are unloading necessities for the night from the horses and carriage.
taehyung makes sure there are no eyes on him as he sneaks around to the side of the carriage that’s hidden. he opens the door as quietly as he can and grabs his cloak, deep midnight blue and able to blend easily with the shadows of the forest, and the pouch next to it, a dagger, some dried meats, and a pouch of water in it.
he doesn’t intend to run. the best trackers in the kingdom would be on him in days if even that. but a few minutes, as much as he can get away with. just a last chance to feel what freedom is before it slips through his fingers forever, that’s all he wants.
he careful and quiet as he leaves the camp, hood pulled over his head and boots as soft as he can be across the leaf covered forest. the air is damp and just passed chilled but it’s perfect, the mist through the trees is like the beginning of a fairy tale and lowers his hood, lets the night encompass him.
it’s a magical feeling to walk through the woods alone in the misty dusk of winter. at least, for taehyung it is. he feels no fear as he stands alone and looks up through bare branches to see the stars, shining like beacons of a far away wish that he’ll never reach.
he’s been gone a while, the guards are sure to have noticed at this point, so taehyung turns back. a somber feeling of loss settling in his chest with every step he takes towards the guards that lead him to a prison called fate.
he doesn’t hate them, they’re just following orders, but god does he loathe the look of disinterest and judgement on their faces every time they look at him, as if he had ever chosen to be born to be little more than a chess piece under his parent’s hands, a mere tool for them to use under the guise of guiding him towards a successful future and not grooming him as a puppet to be shown off and hovered over the heads of the very people he’s supposed to rule like a shiny new focus for their attention while all his actions are pulled by strings woven of duty and love.
it’s shouts that pull him from his thoughts. the frantic neighing of terrified horses and the scared, frantic yells of his guards, and the roar of something he has no name for other than a thousand hurricanes and the screech of a fire with flames the color of the sea. turns out, he wasn’t so far off.
taehyung breaks through the trees to the camp and looses the breath in his lungs in a moment of terrified amazement. guards scramble around him, one of them calls out to him in a shout muffled by taehyung’s own focus which is locked on only one thing.
a creature, scales the color of charcoal with highlights of embers in the shine under the glow of fire, eyes like coals brimming with heat and rage, wings like the sails of a boat, thrumming with power and all the might of a storm.
the hair on taehyung’s arms stands up and his skin feels cold but hot at the same time as he looks into those eyes that suddenly look right back at him. the shiver that wracks taehyung’s body is like nothing he’s felt before. his chest feels light and he feels as if there’s a fire within him. it’s like all the moments of his life where he’s felt afraid or excited are all happening at once and it’s all he can do to stand and stare.
and then hands, cold and firm, are wrapping around him and he’s lifted off his feet, a startled cry leaving his lips as he’s thrown over the front of a horse and someone climbs on behind him, barely a moment to right himself to be sitting before there’s a cry beside his ear and feet kick behind his own and suddenly those burning eyes are growing further and further away.
taehyung feels a sense of loss at the distance but can’t focus on it because the guards are yelling at each other as they head away from the burning glow of what used to be the camp. there’s another roar and the sound of a million blades cutting through the air and when taehyung looks up, there are those eyes again.
"head west and try to draw it away! we’ll take the prince east! meet back at the castle when you can!”
the guard on the horse beside taehyung yells to the others and they split, three guards and the one taehyung shares a horse with going left as the others go right.
their horse is urged to the front as they weave through the trees and taehyung pulls his cloak tighter around himself, glancing back at the sky and feeling his heart pick up, good or bad he doesn’t know, as he sees those eyes, watching him, following him.
more yells, more words, taehyung can barely hear past the ringing in his ears and the howling of the wind.
two words, one scream, one moment, and there’s wind.
taehyung is falling. the horse is gone, the guard is gone, all the guards are gone and so is the ground. all that’s left is the open air of the night and black pit below. it takes a moment, a cruel and short moment of biting wind and heart stopping realization for taehyung to process that they had gone over a cliff.
taehyung wanted to escape to live. now he only has moments left and all he can do is shut his eyes and dream of that cottage deep in the woods with a garden in the back and a river near by.
the sounds of the air being ripped apart, the rumbles of breaths taken so large and fast it’s like the approaching roar of thunder, the heat of coals hidden beneath a surface that’s smooth and layered to the touch, and then darkness.
