Ship/Member: Wonwoo/Seokmin Major Tags: N/A Additional Tags: vaguely medieval au? Permission to remix: Yes
*** i made an attempt đđ First he had carefully cleansed himself in the baths, and then was anointed with blessed oils, and now he stands garbed in newly polished armour, waiting for the final part of the ceremony.
He steals the slightest glances at the Prince when it is his turn to finally come forward, to kneel down and formally pledge his fealty. His stomach swoops with the gentle weight of the Princeâs sword against his shoulder, and threatens to make his voice waver around his vows.
He takes the time to carefully weigh each word in his mouth, each pearl of bravery, justice and obedience placed before the golden Prince. Not his father, not the kingdom.
Just for him.
*
Their hunting party comes across townsfolk besieged by bandits, and with his soft heart the Prince orders the knights to defend the unarmedâeven as he dismounts to join the fray. Heâs leaving himself vulnerable as the rest of the party blindly obeys, and Wonwoo can only scorn their misplaced loyalties as he follows after the Prince. Someone needs to protect his back for him.
Later, as the people tend to the wounded and mourn the fallen, he weathers the Princeâs quiet scoldingâfor that is what it is, really, interspersed with reluctant thanks for shielding him from the blows he had missed, even if it hadnât been necessary.
As untrained as they had been, some of the wild flailing had come dangerously close to skimming past the gaps in the Princeâs armour, even as Wonwoo was moving to intercept them before they could truly make contact. Itâs with that knowledge, and his security in his decisions, that he lets the Princeâs words stoke the warmth in his chest. Theyâre well-meaning, even if he doesnât quite understand.
(if there had been one more knight to defend some of the stragglers, caught defenseless and cornered, would there have been less casualties? The potential doesnât outweigh the value of the Princeâs wellbeing, and Wonwooâs shoulders are light as they begin to ride back to the castle.)
*
No one ever asked whether Prince Seokmin remembered the most minor of incidents years ago, when he was but a young boy briefly escaping the care of his guards to explore the lives of the townsfolk they were visiting. He ran gleefully through the streets until he bumped into a boy just a little older than him, the collision causing him to drop his precious basket of food into the mud. Freshly baked goods he had saved up carefully for, now ruined.
It was the devastation on the older boyâs face that made the young Princeâs heart ache, and his tearful apologies centred around being the cause of such an emotion in the first place. But the older boy buried his sadness deep down and entertained the Prince until the sun sat low in the sky, his guards finally coming to usher him back to safety.
He was sorry to see the young Prince go, even as he knew the coin purse he pressed into his hands in apology would be enough to keep his family fed for weeks. But the memory of the boyâs innocent happiness as he ran, the warm glow of accomplishment when he could finally rekindle that same pure smile solely of his own merit, the way his voice lilted a merry, âgood-bye, Wonwoo!â once he left with the soldiersâ
He, at least, remembered the satisfaction of it for a long, long time.
*
When the Queen tragically passes away, he is standing outside the Princeâs door, helps to dry his tears.
Many of the other knights seemed to view being assigned to the Princeâs personal guard as somewhat of an affront, and Wonwoo was happy to volunteer to take their places on rotation, as often as he could. Perhaps that is how they begin to become so familiar with each other, grown as they now are.
He is an attentive listening ear to his light-hearted complaints about his tutors, his fightsâbig and smallâwith the Kingâs advisors, sometimes with the King himself.
He is a sympathetic listener to his private fears about marriage, future partnerships formed for the good of the kingdom.
Theyâre now comfortable enough for him to offer to help the PrinceâSeokmin, in private, he insistsâexplore for himself.
He tastes as honey-sweet as he looks.
*
When the small force of the kingdomâs enemies invade the castle, Wonwoo is ready.
The toiling bells ring out a call-to-arms, summoning the palace guard to defend their King, and Wonwoo bars the entrance to Seokminâs inner chambersâpulling the chaise lounge across to block the doorway.
The pounding on the door and the frantic bells meld into one as he locks the outer chambers, too, and waits.
He only has to cut down three stray intruders that had the wrong idea. Itâs only a little anticlimactic.
As the bells start up a different, mournful cry, he knows the palace knights had done their job and taken back control of the throne room.
Itâs safe to unlock the doors and allow his King to batter his anger against his breastplate, as long as he likes. Better to get the rawest tears out now in private, even as he glares and begs to know why he would do such a thing. But the answer is simpleâ
âYouâre my King,â Wonwoo says, and carefully strokes a gauntleted hand over Seokminâs hair as he collapses into his embrace.
[FILL] for you, my lord
Major Tags: N/A
Additional Tags: vaguely medieval au?
Permission to remix: Yes
***
i made an attempt đđ
First he had carefully cleansed himself in the baths, and then was anointed with blessed oils, and now he stands garbed in newly polished armour, waiting for the final part of the ceremony.
He steals the slightest glances at the Prince when it is his turn to finally come forward, to kneel down and formally pledge his fealty. His stomach swoops with the gentle weight of the Princeâs sword against his shoulder, and threatens to make his voice waver around his vows.
He takes the time to carefully weigh each word in his mouth, each pearl of bravery, justice and obedience placed before the golden Prince. Not his father, not the kingdom.
Just for him.
*
Their hunting party comes across townsfolk besieged by bandits, and with his soft heart the Prince orders the knights to defend the unarmedâeven as he dismounts to join the fray. Heâs leaving himself vulnerable as the rest of the party blindly obeys, and Wonwoo can only scorn their misplaced loyalties as he follows after the Prince. Someone needs to protect his back for him.
Later, as the people tend to the wounded and mourn the fallen, he weathers the Princeâs quiet scoldingâfor that is what it is, really, interspersed with reluctant thanks for shielding him from the blows he had missed, even if it hadnât been necessary.
As untrained as they had been, some of the wild flailing had come dangerously close to skimming past the gaps in the Princeâs armour, even as Wonwoo was moving to intercept them before they could truly make contact. Itâs with that knowledge, and his security in his decisions, that he lets the Princeâs words stoke the warmth in his chest. Theyâre well-meaning, even if he doesnât quite understand.
(if there had been one more knight to defend some of the stragglers, caught defenseless and cornered, would there have been less casualties? The potential doesnât outweigh the value of the Princeâs wellbeing, and Wonwooâs shoulders are light as they begin to ride back to the castle.)
*
No one ever asked whether Prince Seokmin remembered the most minor of incidents years ago, when he was but a young boy briefly escaping the care of his guards to explore the lives of the townsfolk they were visiting. He ran gleefully through the streets until he bumped into a boy just a little older than him, the collision causing him to drop his precious basket of food into the mud. Freshly baked goods he had saved up carefully for, now ruined.
It was the devastation on the older boyâs face that made the young Princeâs heart ache, and his tearful apologies centred around being the cause of such an emotion in the first place. But the older boy buried his sadness deep down and entertained the Prince until the sun sat low in the sky, his guards finally coming to usher him back to safety.
He was sorry to see the young Prince go, even as he knew the coin purse he pressed into his hands in apology would be enough to keep his family fed for weeks. But the memory of the boyâs innocent happiness as he ran, the warm glow of accomplishment when he could finally rekindle that same pure smile solely of his own merit, the way his voice lilted a merry, âgood-bye, Wonwoo!â once he left with the soldiersâ
He, at least, remembered the satisfaction of it for a long, long time.
*
When the Queen tragically passes away, he is standing outside the Princeâs door, helps to dry his tears.
Many of the other knights seemed to view being assigned to the Princeâs personal guard as somewhat of an affront, and Wonwoo was happy to volunteer to take their places on rotation, as often as he could. Perhaps that is how they begin to become so familiar with each other, grown as they now are.
He is an attentive listening ear to his light-hearted complaints about his tutors, his fightsâbig and smallâwith the Kingâs advisors, sometimes with the King himself.
He is a sympathetic listener to his private fears about marriage, future partnerships formed for the good of the kingdom.
Theyâre now comfortable enough for him to offer to help the PrinceâSeokmin, in private, he insistsâexplore for himself.
He tastes as honey-sweet as he looks.
*
When the small force of the kingdomâs enemies invade the castle, Wonwoo is ready.
The toiling bells ring out a call-to-arms, summoning the palace guard to defend their King, and Wonwoo bars the entrance to Seokminâs inner chambersâpulling the chaise lounge across to block the doorway.
The pounding on the door and the frantic bells meld into one as he locks the outer chambers, too, and waits.
He only has to cut down three stray intruders that had the wrong idea. Itâs only a little anticlimactic.
As the bells start up a different, mournful cry, he knows the palace knights had done their job and taken back control of the throne room.
Itâs safe to unlock the doors and allow his King to batter his anger against his breastplate, as long as he likes. Better to get the rawest tears out now in private, even as he glares and begs to know why he would do such a thing. But the answer is simpleâ
âYouâre my King,â Wonwoo says, and carefully strokes a gauntleted hand over Seokminâs hair as he collapses into his embrace.