Chapter Text
-A Long Time Ago-
Taehyung wakes up in pain. He's starving.
It takes him longer than he'd like to admit to figure out where he is, eyes scanning his surroundings but his brain failing to cooperate and think and process.
He's still in his clothes from before, that's a small comfort at least, and something resembling porridge has been placed by his feet next to a pitcher of water. It's nice of them to be so considerate, considering they kidnapped him. If only they would have also considered untying his arms from behind his back and not leaving him alone in the village food cellar.
After a while he's able to sit up, huffing at the effort of not having his arms readily available. Light is beginning to slide through the planks that cover the small window opposite him and gently illuminate the area. How ironic that their initial job of keeping thieves and frost out, is instead proving to be keeping him in.
Not that it will work.
He's going to get out. He's going to escape and then he's going to rescue Jimin and they'll run away and live together in the forest, away from these awful people and their stupid traditions. He's going to get out, even if he has to claw his way through the walls with his bare hands, using his teeth and fingernails.
After more shifting around he's on his knees. Now, he can bend down and start to lick up the food left out. It tastes stale, watery and the edges have gone crusty but he wont, he can't, stop. He needs all the strength he can get.
Tears and sweat drip down his face and gather under his chin as he finishes, leaning over to start on the water. It's harder to drink than eat, he can't help but choke on the liquid as he tries to push upwards to breathe before leaning down again. It's so tiring. He can't help but feel like an animal, a dog, bound and imprisoned, forced to eat from dishes on the floor.
His next step should be to get out of these ropes.
It becomes clear pretty quickly that no amount of twisting and pulling, rubbing or pushing is going to get him out. Surveying the dark room once again, he looks for any sharp objects, anything they might have missed, that he can use to his advantage. The walls are lined with crates and sacks of grain, dried fruits and vegetables hang from the ceiling, but nothing sharp.
It's all beginning to seem a bit hopeless now. He's stuck here, helpless.
Jimin's been taken and could be dying as he sits here in the dark. He could already be gone.
With a scream that seems to shake him to his core, a gut wrenching echo of his pain, Taehyung falls to his side, kicking out and putting every drop of strength he has into breaking free of the ropes binding him.
He smacks his jaw on the floor as he lands, not able to stop the momentum. He can only lie and pant, the ache spreading down his neck and shoulder. He's definitely bitten his tongue, the bitter taste of Iron makes him gag as he swallows it down.
The ropes, through it all, have remained vigilant and stubbornly continue to hold him in place.
His feet move along the floor desperately in sporadic jerks as he tries to build enough force and movement to pull his hands appart. His right ankle glides over something distinctly not-floor and a zing of pain flares down his foot and up his leg. Taehyung freezes, straining his neck to see over his body and catch a glimpse of the offending limb. Even with legs akimbo and flailing in the air he can see the small line of red that has appeared, a single drop of blood leaving a stripe of crimson as it travels down towards the floor.
Sharp.
It turns out, that in his fit of anger he'd managed to knock over, and subsequently break, the pitcher left for him. He flips onto his front, shuffling and crawling his way over, ignoring the little pricks of pain on his chest and front as he edges himself over the smaller pieces until he can roll and grasp a relatively large shard in his hands. He begins to saw away, more and more until it's easier and easier and finally, finally, he can bring his hands to his sides and then his face.
There's a hint of stubble on his top lip, how long has he been down here for then? A few days? Surely, not more than a week.
Then there's still hope.
Now able to move freely and walk around, Taehyung finds a small chisel in one of the boxes at the back. He likes to think that someone left it there for him on purpose, secretly cheering him on and hoping for his escape and Jimin's rescue. It doesn't seem very likely, though.
He uses the tool to crudely pry away the planks with slow progress, the nails holding them to the wall and eachother are old and rusty but give up a strong fight. After maneuvering a crate that can support his weight under the opening, he finds he can reach the window much more easily, it won't be too hard to drag himself up and out. There's so much more light now.
Really, he should wait until nightfall to reduce his chances of being caught again, but each second he waits is a second that Jimin doesn't have to spare.
And so, he chances it. He pulls himself through, scrabbling up the wall and onto the dry dirt outside. He doesn't give himself any time to recover, stumbling his way as quickly as possible into the treeline several metres away and slipping down into foliage he hopes is dense enough to keep him out of sight.
His plan is as follows:
1. Get to his house
2. Get supplies
3. Find Jimin
There's probably a few details he's missing but he doesn't have the time to change it. Either way the result is the same, anyways.
It takes him just over an hour to complete the first two tasks.
With a deep breath, Taehyung runs away from the only place he's ever known and towards the only man he's ever loved.