Equinox (for darkyulate) [1/3]

[criticalcapture]

For: darkyulate
From: ANONYMOUS until May 22, 2014

Title: Equinox
Rating: PG-13
Side pairing/s: Kris/Tao
Length: 21,100 words
Summary: Joonmyun has always wanted to go on an adventure. He just never expected it to happen quite like this.

Notes: thank you so much to a & p for being the best betas ever, and to everyone who’s given me their support along the way! i’ve had a blast writing this fic, so darkyulate, i hope you like it ♥

PROLOGUE The Queen of Saira stoops down next to her son, watching him play with letter blocks scattered around the floor. Almost apprehensively, she turns a long, heavy box over and over in her hands. "Joonmyun-ah," she calls, beaming when her son turns to blink at her with bright, round eyes. She takes his wrist in one hand, and pinches the fabric of the small glove he wears with the other. "Do you know why you have these?" Joonmyun blinks. "No." Of course he doesn’t know. He’s just a child, barely eight years old. He shouldn’t know. But it’s her job to tell him, just as the King’s mother had told him when he was eight, and his grandmother to his father before that, and so on. The Queen takes a deep breath and begins, "A long time ago, one of your ancestors made a Faerie very angry." "How long ago?" Joonmyun asks, fiddling with one of his gloves. His mother gently pulls his hands away from each other, before he can pull one glove off. "Before Papa was born?" "Before that." "Before Grandpa was born?" "Long before that," the Queen chuckles. "Hundreds and hundreds of years ago. And that Faerie was so angry that she put a curse on this whole family, so that every child born to it would have to marry the first person to hold his hand. And this," she says, tapping the box in her hands with one finger, "is the pair of gloves that has been passed down from the beginning. Your Papa wore these, and so did his papa, and his papa’s papa… And one day, so will you." Joonmyun frowns. He doesn’t seem to understand, but the Queen is glad for that—he doesn’t need to, not yet. "Why can’t I wear them now?" "Your hands are too small," says the Queen fondly, opening the box to show him the long, white gloves. They’re almost longer than his arms are. "But you will wear them one day." "I want to wear them now," Joonmyun complains, reaching out for the box and pouting. His mother closes the box and sets it behind her. "Not yet," she chides, "but soon. But remember, you must keep your gloves on, always. You know that, right?" "I know, Mama," Joonmyun grins obediently. There are little gaps in his smile where his baby teeth have fallen out. "I’ll always keep my gloves on, unless you say so." "Good," she says, standing up again and picking up the box as she goes. "Your tutor will be here in a minute. Pay attention today! No fooling around like last time, all right? And don’t take your gloves off!" "Okay," Joonmyun says. He’s still playing with his gloves. "I promise." ♚ PART ONE Joonmyun fidgets in place, tugging at the worn, white fabric of his gloves as he waits for the guard to come to his door. He’s going out today, in public. Alone, kind of. It’s something he’s wanted to do for a long time, sure, but he’s worried, too, that something might happen—that’s why he’s not usually allowed out of the palace. Everyone’s afraid he’ll do something stupid like take his gloves off and spontaneously grab someone’s hand, or something like that. And he’s a little offended that they think he’d do something like that, after everything they’ve told him, but he can’t guarantee he won’t do that anyways. Sometimes he really resents that one ancestor of his that’d pissed off that Faerie all those years ago. Having a curse like this placed on his entire lineage was a little extreme for making the Faerie the victim of a few childish pranks—that was what the books said, at least—but Joonmyun really wishes he hadn’t done it, if only because he wants to have the same freedom that everyone else does. He wants to go out and wander the markets like they do, learn to dance the way they do, maybe hold hands with his date just like they do—but that’s a luxury that they have, and he doesn’t. A knock sounds on the door. "Are you ready?" calls a voice—it’s Yifan, his guard. "Ready," he says. Yifan leads him down the hall, through winding passages Joonmyun’s been through only a few times, and then the sun is shining in his eyes, the breeze ruffles his hair a little, and they’re there—they’re outside, and Joonmyun’s breath catches in his throat. It’s even better than he remembers it. The air smells so fresh, so sweet, so unlike the stuffy air inside the palace, which never stops smelling like dust even when Joonmyun has the servants open all the windows. Nothing beats this. Being outside. "Where do you want to go, Your Highness?" asks Yifan, and Joonmyun considers it for a moment. He practically had to beg to have permission to do this, and he’s pretty sure he won’t have another opportunity like this for a while. Every moment counts. "The market," he says finally. Yifan gives a curt nod and leads him through the streets in what Joonmyun assumes must be the direction of the market. It’s slow going, especially because Joonmyun stops every now and again to stare at things on the street in awe, walking slow enough to rival a tortoise, but Yifan just watches Joonmyun’s amazement with amusement. Maybe a little bit of pity, too, but Joonmyun understands. Those that see them passing stop in their tracks—is that the Prince? In the streets? Outside of the palace?—and bow again and again. Joonmyun smiles and bows back, but he wishes, a little bit, that he could be treated just like any other person. Spend a day like a normal person. The market is loud and crowded in the heat of the afternoon, at the busiest hour of the day. The crowd parts neatly, though, as Joonmyun passes through and goes from stall to stall, buying fruits and cheap trinkets he’s never seen before. ("Peasants’ toys," he’s sure his mother will say later. "Throw them away." But for now, in the moment, he’s happy he has them.) Every time he holds out a few coins for a shopkeeper to take, he has to remember to hold them out by the tips of his fingers for them to take with great care. No one dares touch the Prince’s hands. By the time he’s gotten to the end of the street, to the very last stall, the sun is already sinking low in the sky, and the heat has made his bangs stick to his face with the thin sheen of sweat that seems to cover him from head to toe. Not very princely, but Joonmyun doesn’t really mind. "We’re due back at the palace any minute now, Your Highness," Yifan says anxiously. He’s been opening and closing his pocket watch every other minute for the last half hour. "The King and Queen will be upset if we’re late." "Okay," Joonmyun says, sighing and looking back at the market one more time. He'll miss this: the lively atmosphere, the smell of baking bread from the stall on his left, even the way the heat makes his clothes stick to his skin—they'd never allow this in the palace. The luxuries of freedom. "Let's go." So they turn back the way they came, wading through thick crowds of well-wishers, smiling and waving and bowing. And in an instant, Joonmyun manages to trip over something—maybe a person, or maybe just his own feet—and he feels something tug just barely at his fingertips, feels his glove somehow slip free, and then—skin. On his skin. His hand. Someone is holding his hand. The crowd has fallen deathly silent. The hand pulls him upright and Joonmyun looks up to see a bright-eyed boy with a cheerful smile on his face, like he has no idea what he's just done. What he's just condemned himself (and Joonmyun) to for the rest of both of their lives. Beside him, Yifan is frozen in shock. "Hello," Joonmyun says after a long, long moment. "I’m Kim Joonmyun. Prince of the Kingdom of Saira." "O-oh," the boy says, giving him a hurried bow and another bright smile, "I’m sorry, I didn’t realize, Your Highness. My name is Jongdae. Kim Jongdae." "Where are you from, Jongdae?" "A few kingdoms over," Jongdae says. No wonder he’s so clueless. "It’s so different here! I didn’t know princes went to the market in other kingdoms. Or that they could be so handsome." Joonmyun laughs a little at Jongdae’s cheeky grin and opens his mouth to say something else, but Yifan chooses this moment to snap out of whatever trance he was in and step in. "If it’s all right with you, we’ll be needing you to come back to the palace with us." Jongdae frowns. "Well, I kind of need to go home, but—" "I was just being polite," Yifan interrupts, taking him by the arm as Joonmyun starts to make his way back to the palace, pushing through the still-shocked crowd. "You don’t really have a choice." "Oh, okay," Jongdae says. "Does this mean I’ve been, like, chosen or something?" "In a sense," Joonmyun says, smiling tightly. His shoulders are tense and he feels like pacing back and forth the way he does when he’s nervous, even though he’s already walking, and he’d say it’s because he’s getting engaged—oh god, he’s getting engaged—to a stranger, but it’s not even that. The way his head feels right now, it’s like he’s still stuck in a dream somewhere, mind numb and moving far too slowly. Like he’s spent too long breathing in the fumes from the energy elixirs his father loves so much. "I’ve always wanted to visit a palace, you know," Jongdae says, breaking the silence that’s settled over them as if he doesn’t even realize that there’s something wrong. He’s practically the picture of naïvety; Joonmyun wishes he wouldn’t have to be the one to tell Jongdae what’s in store for him. "We don’t have a lot of money, back home, so it’s not like I ever could have gone to those fancy balls they hold at our palace. But maybe I could go to one here, right? And maaaybe I could take the prince as my date…" "That’s the plan," Joonmyun mutters. He’s really only half-listening, though—he’s not even sure how he’s been leading the way, but it’s like he’s on autopilot. His feet know where to take him. "Wait, seriously?" Jongdae says, laughing incredulously. "No way." "Yes," Joonmyun says. "You’ll see." When they arrive at the palace, Joonmyun turns to Yifan. "Yifan. Tell Mother and Father what’s happened. And have a servant prepare a room." Yifan nods and hurries away. Jongdae gives him a bewildered look. "A room? Your Highness, am I staying here for the night?" "I’m afraid it might be more than a night," Joonmyun tells him, not quite meeting his eyes. "And—I think—you won’t need to call me ‘Your Highness’ anymore." "What, a few days? Why?" "More than a few days. More than a few months, even." "Did I do something?" Jongdae frowns. They’re still by the entrance to the palace, and already servants are scurrying about with clean sheets and towels and bedclothes. "What’s going on?" "So—" Joonmyun starts, but he’s not quite sure how to break it to him. "You know how you grabbed my hand earlier?" "Yeah, I was helping you up. What about it?" "Basically, that means… we’re engaged. To be married." There’s a long moment of silence. "You’re kidding me." Joonmyun just shakes his head. "I’m really not." Another long pause. Then: "WHAT DO YOU MEAN WE’RE ENGAGED?" "So—so there was this curse, right—" Joonmyun laughs nervously. "And it said the first person to hold my hand has to marry me, so when you took my hand…" "Oh my god," Jongdae says. "Why didn’t anyone tell me this when I got here?" "I don’t know, but I’ll fix this," Joonmyun says. "For both of us. But for now, you should probably get settled. You’re going to be here for a while." They walk to Jongdae’s new room in silence. Joonmyun tries to explain the basic etiquette Jongdae needs to know, and when a few servants come in to furnish the room more comfortably, Jongdae offers to help, insisting on it even when they refuse. The servants look confused and a bit harried, so Joonmyun tries to interject with a "Jongdae, you really don’t have to—" "But I want to," Jongdae says, turning back to look at him with furrowed brows, and for a moment it’s so very clear just how new he is to this, and Joonmyun feels a little guilty. Even if there’s nothing he can really do about it. "Jongdae," he says slowly, "you can’t. Maybe it seems like a small thing to make a fuss about, but you need to get used to it. This is how things work here. It’s not your place anymore. Do you understand?" The servants start shuffling around again, rearranging furniture in the uncomfortable silence. Finally, Jongdae nods. "Yeah. I get it." Joonmyun tries to get back to talking about manners again, but Jongdae is unnaturally reserved in his responses now, and the room is relatively quiet until Yifan knocks on the door. "The King and Queen wish to see you," he says. "Both of you." Jongdae looks nervous. Joonmyun gives him his most reassuring smile—though he’s already anxious himself—and says, "Don’t worry. It’ll be fine." But, despite all of Joonmyun’s advice earlier, the meeting with his parents doesn’t go very well. It’s not bad, exactly, at first, until his mother speaks directly to Jongdae. "Where do you come from?" she asks, looking down at him sternly. Jongdae doesn’t seem to notice her demeanor, just smiling at her easily. "Astra, Your Majesty. A few kingdoms over." "And why did you come here?" Jongdae gives her the same cheeky grin he’d given Joonmyun earlier. Joonmyun wants to reach out and stop him from saying whatever he’s about to tell her, but Jongdae has already opened his mouth to speak. "Because I heard the prince was very handsome, of course. Your Majesty." Joonmyun’s father frowns. His mother only looks down at Jongdae coldly. "Jokes will not win you my favor. Jongdae, was it? I hope you understand that this isn’t the time." "Y-yes, Your Majesty," Jongdae responds quickly, giving an apologetic bow. "I’m sorry, it won’t happen again, Your Majesty." But as the questioning continues, there are times when Jongdae forgets his place once again, forgets to address the Queen the way he should, or bows at exactly the wrong times, and Joonmyun is itching to just run from the room. It’s embarrassing. He should’ve taught Jongdae better. As they leave the room, Jongdae mumbles, "I’m sorry." "There’s nothing to be sorry for," Joonmyun says, but his voice comes out too strained, his throat is too tight with frustration, and suddenly he’s aware of how tense he is, shoulders stiff and his fists balled up into fists. "I know you don’t mean that," Jongdae says. "I’m sorry. It was my fault." His voice is quiet, like it was after Joonmyun tried to explain why he couldn’t help the servants, or for the rest of the questioning after the Queen had told him not to speak so casually—and Joonmyun feels so awful, like he’s crushed Jongdae’s spirit or something. "No," Joonmyun blurts, too loud and too sudden. He doesn’t even know what he’s thinking right now; the words tumble out of his mouth unbidden. "It was my fault, for not making it clearer to you, for not telling it to you in a nicer way, for being so awful—I should have known how to handle this better. Someone like me shouldn’t be allowed to rule. I crush the hopes and dreams of foreign boys I accidentally force into marriage and bring them to my parents to have their dreams crushed even more and don’t even know how to apologize properly for it. I don’t deserve to be prince. I’m probably the worst prince there ever was, and I probably shouldn’t even be king when I get older, because I’m such a mess—" He’s cut off by the sound of a laugh, bright and lovely and also frighteningly loud when it echoes off the walls of the hall. When Joonmyun turns around, Jongdae is giving him an amused grin, laughing again as he says, "Why are you so serious? Don’t worry so much about me. I’m fine, seriously." "But you—" Joonmyun splutters, "you were so quiet and, well, you looked so sad. And I thought I’d crushed your spirit or something like that, and I guess it upset me to think about it like that because I like your spirit? Does that even make sense? I just think it’s—it’s refreshing. You. Having you here." Jongdae looks surprised, but he smiles even wider all the same. "Aw, thanks. I’m glad you like me, at least. Since we have to spend the rest of our lives together and all." "Yeah," Joonmyun says. "Yeah, I guess we do." ♚ Dinner is just the two of them—Joonmyun doesn't usually dine with his parents. Jongdae doesn't know what order to use the silverware in and when he's not asking which fork he's supposed to use next, he doesn't talk much. There's a heaviness in the air that Joonmyun doesn't like, and the quiet leaves him to his own thoughts; It feels like the full weight of what's happening is startle to dawn on them both. They're getting married. Married. He's too young for this. It's far too early for this to happen to him. He hasn't seen the world yet, hasn't had an adventure, hasn't fallen in love— "Dinner was really good," Jongdae says quietly, breaking the silence. His plate is empty. "Thank you." "Of course," Joonmyun says. "I'll walk you back to your room." Jongdae's room is just down the hall from Joonmyun's, and not too far from the dining room. Joonmyun leads the way back, and he can't help but wonder at Jongdae's silence; he'd been so chatty on the way to the palace, but now… it's almost like he's a different person. Joonmyun doesn't like it, no matter what Jongdae says. He does speak up, though, halfway up a flight of stairs, looking thoughtful. "I'll be here for a while, won't I?" "Most likely," Joonmyun admits. He can't get his mind off of any of this. How to fix it. "I guess I could get used to this place, then. Everything I never had," Jongdae says, smiling faintly. "Does this mean we'll be together a lot?" "Yeah," Joonmyun says absentmindedly, "we will." "So let's get to know each other. Make the best of things, right?" "Sure." Joonmyun's got an idea. They've reached Jongdae's room, and Joonmyun should continue the same way he's been going, but— "Tomorrow, though, okay?" "Oh, okay." Jongdae looks a little disappointed, but Joonmyun's already hurrying off in the opposite direction, mind racing. The palace library is spacious and, if it’s even possible, quieter than anywhere else in the palace; it’s Joonmyun’s place of refuge in the palace when things get to be too much. It’s easy to lose himself deep in the shelves of the library, within the pages of the books all around him, and he’s learned a lot this way, about people and other places and most of all, history. So many of the old, leather-bound books that line the shelves cover the centuries upon centuries of history this kingdom has, and there’s something endlessly fascinating about old customs and petty fights between his ancestors that can keep Joonmyun absorbed in a book for hours. There’s just one thing he can hardly find any information on, though—the most interesting, and the most important, Joonmyun thinks. The curse. But suddenly, it matters now, knowing about it. If only Joonmyun had taken note of which books mentioned it, even in passing—he’d be pretty grateful for that right about now. But he has to start somewhere. Joonmyun pulls a book off the shelf in front of him: A History of Saira. This one isn't particularly interesting, but if Joonmyun's remembering correctly, there's something useful in there. He just needs to find it. And this mess… He'll fix it. No matter what it takes. ♚ PART TWO "We have announced your betrothal to Kim Jongdae, a noble from the kingdom of Astra," the Queen says. She sounds as exhausted as Joonmyun feels. "And we said the… incident, I’ll call it, was planned. A more interesting way of announcing it." "But Jongdae isn’t a noble, Mother," Joonmyun frowns. "What if someone finds out?" "It would be better to take a chance than admit that you are marrying a peasant," she says scathingly, narrowing her eyes. "They would never respect either of you if they knew." "Your mother is right," the King says. "There is not much else we can do. We can only hope the people trust us enough not to question it." "The ceremony is set for the first of August," the Queen adds. "That’s just over three months from now, so we hope you can prepare Jongdae well in that time." Three months doesn’t feel like enough, but Joonmyun nods anyways. "Of course." "You are dismissed." Before Joonmyun leaves, though, his mother speaks up once more. "And Joonmyun—I hope you and your fiancée will get along well. You know we want you to be happy." Joonmyun nods, looking back over his shoulder. "I don’t plan on letting this happen, but thank you, Mother. I’ll try." It’s back to the library once he’s left the room, back to reading book after ancient book until his eyes are tired and he’s ready to fall asleep, mind full of stories of wars and magical creatures and brave knights whose actions he’ll never be able to match; just not what he’s been looking for. He’s been through an entire shelf of history books in the last week, and he’s just about ready to give up. Joonmyun’s eyes start to drift closed, his eyelids feeling impossibly heavy, and he’s really about to fall asleep this time when someone’s foot nudges his. "Hey," Jongdae says quietly. "I was looking for you." Joonmyun pulls himself up so he’s sitting straight again, like a prince should, and rubs his eyes. "Why, is something wrong?" "No, I just thought—" Jongdae’s not looking at Joonmyun now, but he’s biting his lip uncertainly and he plays with the hem of his new shirt, tailored for him a few days ago. Joonmyun might say he looks almost… shy. "I thought, since we’re betrothed and all, we’d be spending some time together. To get to know each other, like I mentioned." "Of course," Joonmyun says. "Just not today. I know I said we could, but—" "You're busy, I get it," Jongdae says. "Maybe tomorrow, then. I'll leave you alone for now. Good night." "Good night," Joonmyun calls after him as he leaves the room, but Jongdae doesn’t even look back. Leaning backwards in his chair again, Joonmyun tries to get back to reading, but somehow he can’t do anything but wonder what he did wrong. ♚ The next day, he decides, is a break. To make amends. He heads to Jongdae’s room bright and early the next morning, knocking on the door a few times every couple of minutes until Jongdae opens it, hair sticking up in strange places and his pajamas all rumpled as he squints at Joonmyun through sleepy eyes. "What," Jongdae says, voice thick with sleep. "I’m here to give you a tour of the palace," Joonmyun says cheerfully, opening the door wider and walking past Jongdae into the room. He pulls the curtains open and takes a seat on Jongdae’s bed; Jongdae shuts the door and moves to sit next to him, using one hand to shield his eyes from the light. "It’s six in the morning," Jongdae mutters, trying to bury his face in his hands. "Why is anyone awake right now. Besides, I thought you were too busy curse-breaking or whatever for me. You don't have to do this if you don't want to." "But I do," Joonmyun insists. "There are some places I've been wanting to show you. And we can go to the stables." Jongdae, although still sleepy, seems to perk up a little at that. "The stables?" "Yeah. Why?" "I used to help out in my uncle’s a lot," Jongdae explains. A little smile plays at the corners of his lips as he buttons up his shirt, and his eyes seem distant. Like he's remembering something far, far away from here, outside this room and this palace and this kingdom. "But I’ve never ridden a horse before." "Then I’ll have to teach you.” Joonmyun tosses Jongdae a pair of pants and his shoes. "It won’t do for the new Prince of Saira not to know how to ride a horse, right?" "Right," Jongdae mumbles, putting on the rest of his clothes slowly, eyes downcast. Joonmyun regrets saying it already. "Prince of Saira, Kim Jongdae." "It must be—hard," Joonmyun says, taking a moment to settle on that last word, for lack of a better one. "I'm sorry." Jongdae is silent for a while. They step out into the hall, and Joonmyun listens to the heels of their expensive shoes clicking against tile, and the echo of it as they pass through the main foyer; it's only when they've passed through another of the main halls that he speaks. "It wasn't your fault." Joonmyun shakes his head. They keep walking. "It was. In part, at the very least." Jongdae looks like he wants to say something, but they’ve reached the spot Joonmyun’s been looking for. "To your right. We’re here." "What do you mean?" Jongdae says, looking around. They’re still in the middle of a hall, and to their right is a blank expanse of wall. There’s nothing to distinguish it from any other spot in this hallway, but after years and years of living here, and scarcely ever leaving, Joonmyun’s got this place memorized like the back of his hand. Wordlessly, Joonmyun steps up closer to the wall and presses a spot to his left, pushing and pushing until the wall gives and what used to be seamless wall is now a door, swinging into a dark stairway. Behind him, Jongdae looks stunned. "I found it when I was a child. It takes you to the kitchens, in case you ever get hungry," Joonmyun explains, stepping into the passageway. Jongdae follows him in, not hesitating for a moment, but the way he’s trying to search for something in the dark says that maybe he’s at least a little bit apprehensive. Joonmyun reaches out behind him, searching for Jongdae in the dark. "Take my hand. I’ll bring a lantern next time, but we should be okay in the dark. We’re only going down one flight of stairs." "It won't be that bad," Jongdae says, voice steady, and the way he says it is so easy, confident. But the way he grips Joonmyun’s hand tight after they've taken a few steps down says something entirely different. It’s slow going in the dark. Joonmyun lets one hand drag along the rough stone wall to keep him steady and takes careful steps down the staircase, making sure Jongdae is never more than a step behind. It’s another ten minutes before they reach the bottom, and Joonmyun opens the door for them, flooding the stairwell with light. Jongdae squints, putting one hand up to shield his eyes from the light, but his grip on Joonmyun’s hand has relaxed. "Where are we?" "If you go down the hall and then turn left—you’ll know it, anyway, by the smell—you’ll be in the kitchen," Joonmyun explains, pointing. "Just ask the cook, Taeyeon, for anything you need, and she’ll be happy to give it to you. She’s very nice! And if you turn this way," he continues, moving to his right, "the stables are just outside. It’s a long way down the hall, but we’re going to that door down at the end." It’s been a while since Joonmyun’s been here. The door is heavier than he remembers, and Jongdae has to help him pull it open when they reach it. Joonmyun mumbles an embarrassed "thanks" and leads the both of them down past a few stalls to the fifth one on the left—Joonmyun’s horse. "Her name’s Socks," Joonmyun says, patting her head fondly when she sticks it out of the stall, looking at him and Jongdae curiously. She snorts when Jongdae reaches for her, too, and he takes a step back in surprise before a smile starts to spread across his face. He's looking happier, more at home, already. "Her ancestors have been in the family for centuries. I got her when I was younger and they let me name her myself, so… I thought it was cute. Because she has dark fur, except for the areas right around her hooves." Jongdae gives a little laugh. "It is cute. And I think I like her—she’s got personality." "She’s a little… difficult sometimes, yes," Joonmyun says. "She doesn’t like new people. The first time a stable hand tried to touch her, she kicked him so hard he nearly cried. And that was when she was small." "Does that mean I won’t be learning on her?" Jongdae asks. He gives Socks an exaggerated pout. "Aw. I wanted to spend some time with her. We could be friends." Joonmyun watches him make silly faces at her as he approaches, gentle and slow. Joonmyun never knew to do that when he was younger—he'd just bounded up to her the moment she was led to him, and it took him ages after that to get her to warm up to him. Even the new stable hands sometimes approach too quickly and frighten her, but Jongdae, he… He seems so comfortable, even when all he's doing is taking cautious steps towards Socks, murmuring things to her so softly Joonmyun can barely hear half of what he's saying. When Jongdae has gotten close enough to give her neck a soft pat, he looks up, back at Joonmyun. His brows furrow. "Why are you looking at me like that?" Joonmyun feels his face heat up a little, and he stutters, "I—I just. Thought it was interesting. You look so at ease with her, you know? Natural." "Like I said, I used to help out in my uncle's stables. He taught me everything," Jongdae reminisces. "Manners. How to groom them. How to clean up after them. And I guess I can imagine how I'd ride a horse, too, after watching everyone else do it so much—they always said I was too small for it, so I never learned." "I don't think you're too small," Joonmyun says. "I'll teach you. And you can come down here and visit Socks any time you want, you know. I think she likes you already." "It's because animals love me," Jongdae says, looking pleased. "Just you watch, we'll be best friends by the end of the week." Joonmyun leads him over to another stall, grinning too despite himself. "For now, you’ll have to work with May over here. She’s very sweet, trust me." And May does take a liking to Jongdae from the moment they step into her stall, letting Jongdae approach without any trouble, just like Socks, and she lets Jongdae stroke her mane and coo at her endlessly. Animals really must like him a lot after all. Jongdae leads May out of the stables with a practiced, steady hand; Joonmyun shows him the way to the track, leading Socks as well. They stop just outside the track so Joonmyun can show Jongdae how to mount his horse, demonstrating first on Socks and doing his best to explain until, finally, Jongdae gets it, grinning triumphantly when he’s perched on May’s back with the excitement of a child. From there, it’s easy going—Jongdae's already got a good idea of what to do, so Joonmyun doesn’t need to give him too much instruction for him to get it. He's still a little shaky by the time an hour has passed, but he’s also sweaty and breathless and he looks satisfied, so Joonmyun decides to call it a success. "Can we do this again?" Jongdae asks, excited and eager as they head back to the stables. "I had a lot of fun today." "Soon, maybe," Joonmyun says hesitantly, thinking of all the books he still has to read. "You can ask an attendant to stay with you when I’m busy." Jongdae frowns as he dismounts, stumbling a bit when his feet hit the ground. He’ll need to work on that. "What are you so busy with anyways? You spend so much time in the library. I never see you—is reading that important?" "I’m trying to find a solution," Joonmyun explains. He dismounts and shows Jongdae what to do, talking all the while. "To the marriage thing. I’m going through all of the history books, so maybe I can find something that can help us. I don’t want you to be stuck here forever, you know? You didn’t choose to be here. And I don’t know much yet, but I’m learning things. Slowly. Maybe when I get through a few more books I’ll have enough to piece together something about this curse. I barely know anything right now." "I can help if you want," Jongdae offers. "You'll get it done faster. And then, at least, I'll have something to do all day." Right. Joonmyun's left Jongdae to his own devices for days and days, but he hadn't thought of what Jongdae would be doing in that time. Nothing. "Sure," Joonmyun says, feeling a little guilty. "As long as you want to. And I hope you like history." "Hate it," Jongdae replies, but he's grinning. "It was my least favorite subject in school. But I'll try. For you." "After lunch, maybe?" Joonmyun takes a look at Jongdae and amends, "And a shower." "We need it,” Jongdae laughs, tugging at the collar of his shirt. “I’ll need you to show me the way to the library, though.” “Of course,” Joonmyun says. “That’s what I’m here for, right?” They make sure, one last time, that May and Socks are safely in their stalls, and then Joonmyun takes them through another shortcut: this time, it’s one of the passageways the servants usually use. These passages are winding and easy to get lost in—Joonmyun's needed a servant's help to get out countless times, but now he knows these places as well as they do. "Here's what I know so far," Joonmyun says. "The curse, as you know, forces the first person to hold my hand to marry me. Centuries ago, one of my ancestors made a Faerie—I think her name is Aria—extremely angry, so angry that she cursed his entire family lineage. We still need to find out why. And as far as I know, the only one who can remove a curse like this is the one who cast it herself. So if we can find something, anything, that'll tell us where she is… I'll go." "And I'll come with you." "You don't need to—" "I want to," Jongdae says firmly. "Let me come with you. I got us into this mess, too." "Only if you want to," Joonmyun says, looking at him uncertainly. "I do." They come to a stop just outside Jongdae's room. Joonmyun makes to leave for his own room at the other end of the hall, but pauses. He’s never felt this—shy? before, but he manages to turn back to Jongdae nonetheless. “I’ll see you at lunch.” “Yeah, I’ll see you,” Jongdae grins. Why is it so easy for Jongdae to talk with him like this, when suddenly for Joonmyun it seems so difficult? Maybe it’s just that Joonmyun hasn’t really ever had a friend—is Jongdae a friend? It's so hard to tell. Everything about this is so confusing, but maybe it doesn't really matter. Whatever it is, it's nice. A step forward is a step closer, right? Even if Joonmyun isn't sure what it is that he's trying to get closer to. Showers always help clear Joonmyun's head a bit. That's the solution, he decides. A shower, then he'll have lunch, and then he'll head back to the library. With Jongdae. It's a scary thought, sort of, but whatever—it'll get easier. Even if that takes time. ♚ "Hey," comes Jongdae's faint voice from a couple of shelves over. They'd decided to split up the work when they started together last week, Jongdae on curses and cursebreaking first, and Joonmyun on history. And when every book in the library on curses had been exhausted, Jongdae moved on to atlases. And it's far, so Joonmyun doesn't see him much when they're working in the library, but it's kind of nice just to know someone's here with him. That he isn't alone. Joonmyun starts to stand up, setting his book down on the ground. "Yeah?" Jongdae comes around the corner before Joonmyun can go to him. He's looking intently down at the map in his hands, brow furrowing in concentration—it's a wonder he hasn't crashed into something yet. "I think I found something. I haven't read a lot of maps before, so I'm not sure, but… Here. Just look." He hands the map over to Joonmyun, pointing at a spot at the top right corner of the map, where there's a mark so small Joonmyun probably never would have noticed if he were the one looking. It's just outside of Owan, which is a few days' journey by horse west of Saira, if what he's heard from his father is correct. Joonmyun has to squint at the symbol there for a few moments to make out a tiny wand—and one look at the key tells him that it's a Faerie's dwelling place—and next to it, in half-faded black letters, AR A. Joonmyun looks up at Jongdae, eyes wide. "This…" "Do you think that's it?" Jongdae asks. He looks sort of like he doesn't believe it himself, but at the same time there's excitement growing there, just like it's already starting to bloom in Joonmyun's chest. This is it. It has to be. "We found it," Joonmyun breathes, eyes flicking from one spot on the map to another just to make sure he's not seeing things. "We did it." "Does this mean we're leaving soon?" Right. It's almost like, in the process of searching for the information they need to go on this journey, he's forgotten that there's actually a journey to come. Maybe he's gotten a little too lost in these shelves, in these books, in spending time with Jongdae (which he's begun to like much more than he wants to admit). "I guess it does. Tomorrow, first thing in the morning, I think—so you'll need to start packing right about now." Jongdae nods and makes to leave, excitement in his every movement and the way his eyes are all lit up, even if he's got a straight face. Something crosses Joonmyun's mind, though, and he stops him. "But before you go," he says, stopping Jongdae in his tracks. "Let's go over everything we know again. Write it down, just to be sure." "But we know everything already," Jongdae frowns. "Why do we need to do that?" "So we don't forget. And it helps me feel more organized about it, I guess. Everything seems all jumbled in my head when I think about it, so I think it'd be nice to have it down where I can read and reread it every now and then, especially once we're out of the palace and don't have books there when we need them." That's a new thought, too—Joonmyun's left before, obviously, but it's only ever been on short trips around town. Never out of the kingdom, either. His parents never thought it was a good idea to put Joonmyun at risk of having something like this happen, except they always talked about nobility from other kingdoms doing it for power, and the like. He supposes they never thought this would be a possibility. Jongdae has already gone and come back with parchment and something to write with by the time Joonmyun forces himself to focus on the present. "So. What we know." Joonmyun hums and stares up at the ceiling, trying to remember everything they'd found from the books. "We know… that the Faerie's name is Aria. She lives just outside the border of Owan, which is just a few days away if you go by horse. The curse forces me to marry the first person to hold my hand, and the only way to break it is to go to her ourselves and ask her to reverse it somehow. She might ask for offerings, or a sacrifice, and she's stubborn with what she wants, so whatever it is, we'll probably have to give it to her. Still no knowledge on what my ancestor did to make her angry, but it seems like it'll be something petty. Aria is known to be easily angered by those kinds of things. What else?" "I think that might be everything," Jongdae says. He drums on his thigh with the fingers of one hand as he thinks, mouth twisted in thought. "Huh. For all the searching we've done, we don't have much, do we?" "We don't," Joonmyun agrees. "But it's enough." Jongdae nods and takes a deep breath. "So we're really doing this." "We are." "And I was just starting to get used to this place," he says with a faint smile, looking all around them almost wistfully. "I guess things just aren't meant to stay the same here." "I always liked change anyway," Joonmyun says. It doesn't come out like he intends, easy and carefree, but instead a bit… sad? Not exactly. He can't place it. Jongdae just nods and turns again to leave. "I'll see you at dinner. I'm gonna pack." "I think I will too." Joonmyun sets the book in his hands back onto the shelf and stretches, looking over the list again, folding it up, and tucking it into his pocket, along with the map. With one last glance over his shoulder, he leaves the library, letting the door swing closed behind him. Anyway, he thinks, at least he's living out a childhood dream now. He gets to be the prince on an exciting adventure, like he always wanted, even if he's not saving some princess or whatever he'd imagined at the time. And… well. Even if this doesn't work like he's hoping for it to, at least, after all of this, he'll have had one last adventure. This is something to hold on to. ♚ one | two | three