Chapter Text
Once upon a time there lived a young noble boy. He was vain and selfish, caring little for others. He was only interested in his own needs and would do anything to get what he wanted. He lived in a rich house, with his rich family. He had no worries, not with money, his future, or his education, paid and provided for by the people around him.
Every morning the household servants would dress and feed him. They’d prepare the most beautiful robes, the softest silks, and the shiniest gold. Only royalty would outshine him. Dressed from head to toe in money and privilege he would sit, admiring his reflection. The precious stones at his throat, the way the fabrics shimmered, iridescent peacock greens and blues catching the light like scales. The gold that wrapped around his throat and glinted in his ears. Sometimes this self-appreciation would last only a second, a glimpse as he walked past any surface that offered a reflection, Sometimes, it would last hours, where he sat in his room, kneeling neatly, hands placed in his lap in front of a large mirror.
To his staff, he was cruel, not like the way his parents were, with their harsh words, and explosive tempers, but he was the kind of cold cruel. He looked down on them in disdain. He hardly even acknowledged them. He ignored every helping hand, every word spoken, sometimes he would sneer, or say the occasional jab. The boy made it clear he wouldn’t associate himself with them. He had no trouble dismissing the servants if they so even dared look in his direction. Even the most loyal of the staff could find themselves thrown out onto the streets, no money, or possessions to their name. Not knowing whether they’d live through the rest of the week.
He did whatever he wanted, anyone caught up was collateral damage. A means to an end.
But when he did acknowledge them, it was for his own, pure, malicious entertainment. He was like a cat with a mouse. Letting it creep away, almost to safety, before extending a paw, and dragging the unfortunate creature back towards his fangs. Like a cat, that would put one paw on the tail of the mouse, and watch in mild amusement as it struggled. Like a cat, that would break the legs of the mouse, and lie lazily on its side, as the poor creature dragged itself, broken, to the safety of its home. But the mouse wouldn’t get there, because the cat would finish it off. Eventually.
This was nothing to the cat, which would lazily flick its tail, but to the mouse, the world was crumbling down.
It would entertain the boy to play with the lives of his servants. After all, it was nothing to him. But it was everything to them.
He was young. Just a boy of fourteen. He was slowly and surely becoming more forbidding as each day passed. The staff started to become more fearful, but in their eyes was always a steely resentment, thinly veiled by more cowardly emotions.
One day, as the weather became violent, and the sky became dark, there was a commotion in the household. It was one of those days where the young boy’s parents had left him home by himself, the staff there to look after him. This was not uncommon. They boy hardly knew his parents. It’d been the staff that had raised him, but any sympathy they’d had towards him had dissipated in the wake of his indifference and disgust of them. Even when his parents were there, he was alone. Today, they were gone, and the boy was no more isolated than normal. Whenever these times occurred, that was when his sneer grew wider, his eyes colder.
He was stood, rigid in his room. Alone except for one person.
He pointed one delicate finger towards an old woman, who was cowering at his feet, begging, and pleading him, desperate to keep her job. Her face was drawn and wrinkled, hair grey and sparse. She wore the plain dress of the other servants, but the boy knew she’d been working for the family since before he was born. He knew, but he didn’t care. It was anyone’s guess as to whether his parents would miss her, or even notice her absence. He just laughed a vicious laugh, and told her to get out, turning back to his mirror.
In her distress, the woman reached out to him, wrapping her bony fingers around his ankles. The boy froze, before slowly pivoting where he stood. He glowered down at the old woman. The rain spattered the windows. She promised to clean it up, the mess she’d made when she’d tripped, the clean plates smashing and scattering across the floor.
The boy had discreetly drawn his outstretched leg back to himself. A bored smirk tugging on his lips. His face knitted into a small scowl.
He’d considered letting her keep her little job, but she’d laid her hands on him. The woman scrambled back, apologising profusely. He turned his back on her, fabrics rustling as he hissed quietly, leave you old witch. Had he known how true his words had rung, or how badly they had stung, he may not have said what he had, if only to save himself.
Seeing only his reflection. He ignored the now silent woman behind him.
She rose and took a step towards the boy who’d dismissed her so callously, the ceramic shards on the floor rattling in the wake of her footsteps. Her hands trembled, veiny. She leaned close, her breath hot on his ear. Voice like gravel. Her arms snaked around him, across his chest, her palms pressed tight to his shoulders. Nails dug in.
He stilled, unable to move and gazed at himself as the witch uttered her curse. He couldn’t see it, but as she spoke, her words formed ink black smoke that tumbled slowly from her lips. It curled and spiralled around him, into his ears, his nose, his mouth, and finally he could see it in front of his face, coiling and floating, coming for his eyes, obscuring his vision. He could hear nothing, he could see nothing, and he could feel nothing.
After a while, his body loosened. Alone, he sank slowly to his knees. The boy blinked a couple of times, the black, black haze disappearing completely as if it never was. His own face, very much the same. He lifted a hand to his cheek, tenderly feeling the solidity of his own body. The softness of his face. But those weren’t his eyes that stared back at him. He couldn’t tear his gaze away.
He remained there, stood in front of his mirror for hours. And it was when he finally turned away, that it happened. The newly placed curse came to fruition.
The boy had to leave after that. In a panic he fled his home, his kingdom, and went far, far away. Across the deepest seas, the highest mountains, over the darkest ravines, and the widest plateaus. He saw the sun set many times, the moon shielding him in the darkness that came with it. He saw the peoples fear, a new kind of fear than how his servants had viewed him before. This terror on their faces was pure, completely unadulterated. He left only destruction in his wake.
The witch’s departing words still echoed around his head. His last bit of hope.
Only when you can prove that you truly love someone, more than you love yourself, will the curse be broken.
---
Taehyung pulled off his helmet, one hand taking the bandana from his head, the other brushing back his hair. Despite this, the straw brown strands of his fringe fell onto his forehead. He’d stopped for a brief rest, and to tie his horse up before he went the rest of the way on foot.
He led his mare into the shade of an overhang, and looped one end of the rope around a small boulder. The other end was tied to her muzzle, but he undid this, to put the loose noose around her neck. It wouldn’t stop her if she bolted, but it would mean she would wait here for him.
Although the path up to the cave was wide and level, it was also long and steep. The sun was shining down, the midday heat turning the horizon into waves as he held a hand to shield his eyes and looked on his kingdom.
It stretched for miles and miles, the biggest and richest around. The sunlight catching the walls of the palace, sparkling on the roof tiles of the rich. The whole, glittered like gold. Which was why it attracted so many dragons.
Most dragons weren’t dangerous. They were common as birds or rats, and almost the same size. They would scuttle along the streets, weaving underfoot, mostly keeping out of the way. Sometimes they’d beg for food, or block a doorway if they slept there, but this was mostly a problem faced by the poor. Even the most basic of creatures knew they weren’t welcome on the richer side of the kingdom.
The larger more dangerous dragons however…
At first, these weren’t seen as much of a threat to the rich, and therefore little was done about them, until the dragons had a direct impact on the nobles themselves. But gradually over time, the visits from threatening dragons increased and spread; causing havoc.
They’d come for the people, the livestock on the outskirts of the small farms. They’d come for the riches, or even just for the destruction, the death, as their fire burned through the smaller, poorer houses. A dragon after riches had little regard for human life after all.
None of them rampaged for long though. He always made sure of that.
Known throughout the kingdom, Taehyung was famous for his skill and ruthlessness when faced with dragons. He was known for his precise swordsmanship, his accuracy and aptitude to take down the creatures that threatened the people. Time and time again he’d sought them out, brought back their heads, or their scales, and collected his rewards.
It only made sense that he was here now, making his way up the mountain that shadowed his home. The cave near the top, dark and foreboding. He was after the most threatening one yet.
It’d made many short but violent appearances over the last year. But unlike the other more menacing dragons, which were typically the size of cats, or the harmless smaller species that would scavenge from the edges of the city and retreat carefully into the shadows, this dragon seemed only to come for the rich. It would tear through homes, lighting them on fire as it went. The flames catching easily on the wooden floors, or if the household was even wealthier, the fire would eat the tapestries and curtains that hung from the tiles on the walls. Taking gold and silver, expensive fabrics, priceless jewels, anything that shined. It would take it all, but it had not once attacked a person. Never had it directly caused harm to any living being. It was a scavenger for their treasure, so they’d called it The Magpie.
Taehyung had seen it a couple of times himself. Soaring overhead on its large charcoal wings. Its entire body was that same colour, but unlike the shimmering scales belonging to any other dragon, The Magpie had a dull hide. The scales one colour, reflecting nothing. None of the iridescence that the wild dragons possessed.
It was also unlike other dragons he’d seen, in its size. Whilst most were fairly small and vicious, this dragon was bigger, he’d guessed it to be about the length of a bed from nose to behind. It’s tail then doubling its length.
Taehyung took one of his thick leather gloves off to put his bandana back on. It held back his hair, which had grown jaw length. He fitted his helmet back on, followed by his glove before starting off up the rocky path once more. Taehyung kept his visor up now, wanting the weak and infrequent breeze to cool his face.
His horse snorted behind him, pawing at the ground as he left.
For a while, no one had known where The Magpie lived. No one had seen it return to its nest. That was until one day, recently, when soldiers had attacked it. The dragon had been ransacking one of the bigger houses, tearing paintings from the walls and scouring deep claw marks in the stones, when a sword had slashed across its back. Its hard scales had deflected the metal, and it had snarled as it backed away. A crossbow aimed at its chest had missed, but another had succeeded in impaling one of its legs. It’d taken off after that. Everyone had watched as it made a beeline for its cave, right atop of the closest mountain.
It had been rumoured that that’s where it lived, but no one was sure, and Taehyung was only going to tackle it once he was certain. Now he was.
That had been a couple of months ago, and the dragon had only returned once since. But it wasn’t going to return again, Taehyung would make sure of that.
His armour was heavy, made heavier by the leather he wore underneath it. When dealing with dragons, you had to take every precaution. Even though the majority were small, they were fast, and strong, and had claws that could sink through metal. Taehyung had learned that first hand. He now had two scars, fairly large puncture wounds in his thigh.
The armour was loud as he walked, the only noise in the quiet around him. Small clouds of dust rose from the path as he walked. He drew closer to the cave, the silence grew, and Taehyung felt himself shiver, despite the sweltering heat. He planned to be back by nightfall. The King was waiting.
This would be no different from any other case he’d taken on. It was bigger, yes, but The Magpie had been reluctant to fight back that day, even though it’d been injured, so Taehyung was counting on that, combined with the hope that the cross bow had made it lame, to give him a needed advantage.
He came to a stop at the cave entrance. He kept his eyes peeled as he pulled his sword from its sheath at his hip. He was breathing heavily, and wondered whether he should’ve let his horse carry him the rest of the way. But he knew he couldn’t have. Horses were bad around dragons, and Taehyung had enough of a task ahead of him without having to avoid being trampled by his own panicked mare in the process.
With his free hand, he pulled down his visor.
In front of him rose a great mound of gold, so high it ascended into darkness, the peaks unseeable. There was a dip on one side, a path trodden on the treasures, slowly sloping up, so he followed it. Sword at the ready, eyes narrowed as he looked through the small slit of his helmet. He advanced up the pathway, the gold and jewels shifting slightly under his feet. When he reached the top of the mound, he paused, expecting to see his dragon curled up, sleeping and vulnerable.
But he did not see the claws, pointed and deadly. He did not see the large leathery wings, or the two strong back legs, the long sweeping tail, or the lengthy neck, all coiled together.
Instead, he could only see a boy.
He was sat on the floor of the cave, the only empty space, a small circle of bare rock. Around him, riches heaped up, caging him in. He was kneeling in front of a mirror, staring intently at his own reflection. There was a candle between his knees and his mirror, the flame flickering, softening his face, casting an orange glow over the gold and causing it to glint and sparkle. On either side of the boy, were more candles, unlit and stacked together on their sides. Many matches were scattered around them, and spilled out of a small box that’d been overturned.
Taehyung cleared his throat, but the boy didn’t spare him a glance. He may have flinched, but the knight wasn’t sure, as the candle flickered and distorted the surroundings. Light streamed in from the outside, past where the knight stood, casting Taehyung’s shadow, long and imposing. He lifted his visor.
“Who are you?” He called.
He carefully picked his way down the other side of the hill of treasure.
“What are you doing here?” There was cutlery, and armour, and an assortment of jewellery, all trodden in amongst the larger golden objects, the coins, and the mirrors.
The boy looked almost his age, maybe a couple of years younger. His skin looked pale and sickly, his hair dark and greasy flopped over his forehead, reaching the tips of his ears. Wrapped around him were dark silks. They glittered and sparkled, threaded through with gold. There was jewellery around his throat, yet more gold, and it coiled round and round his neck.
Taehyung entered somewhere that was separate from his own world. It was entirely ethereal.
Taehyung walked over. Cautiously, he removed his helmet, and crouched down, next to the boy, placing it beside him. There was something unnervingly odd about the situation. This was reflected in his words. In the most simple and confused of explanations.
“What are you doing here? Don’t you know there’s a dragon? It’s not safe.”
At this, the other scoffed. His face quickly stilled and he remained focused on the mirror.
Taehyung stood and pointed his sword at the boy, but he still didn’t flinch. “Do you know where it is?” He demanded. He could feel his anger now. The boy had ignored him only to mock him, and Taehyung was alone in this dragon’s lair. But it wasn’t really anger that fuelled his actions. It was fear. The creature could be anywhere, watching, waiting for him. He was terrified.
“Have you come to end me then?” Said the boy. His voice soft, emotionless. His fingers played with his silks. The hems golden thread.
“What?” Slowly, he lowered his sword. When the boy remained silent, Taehyung huffed in annoyance, and put a hand on his shoulder. “You can’t stay here, it’s not safe.” He gave a gentle pull, but the stranger pushed against him. He pulled again harder, but the boy still resisted, shooting a hand out to steady himself, craning his neck desperately, still looking at his mirror as the knight tried to drag him away.
“No, stop!” Came a desperate whine.
In shock, he let go of the boy, who hadn’t been expecting it either, and they both fell back, away from each other. The boy crumpled inwards, Taehyung quickly propped himself up on his elbows. He stared in horror, as the boy’s body twisted and writhed, the silks wrapping around him, pulled closer by desperate hands, turning over and over, until, out from beneath them, a dragon rose.
Its eyes the colour of molten gold, pupils slivers, like a cat’s, as it whipped around and stared directly at him. The silks hung from it, draped over its wings, tangled in its claws. There was still gold adorning its neck, fitted tightly beneath its jaw. It bared its teeth as it advanced. Taehyung scrambled back, and gripped at the surface behind him and he got to his feet and reached for his sword.
Its shoulders reached his hip, its face raised, snarling, in line with his own. It looked cornered, vulnerable, and desperate. Hackles raised.
His hand fumbled for his sword as the dragon began to pace towards him. Taehyung could see his sword now, dropped when he’d fallen back, it was near the mirror. He wasn’t near the mirror. Behind him he could feel something sharp, and it was maybe cutlery at most, but he broke eye contact with the beast and twisted around to yank it free, it was all he had.
Some of the treasures fell around his ankles, tumbling down like sand once he’d removed the support, but that wasn’t what’d stopped him, frozen him in place. He could feel coins knock against his heels. They clinked against each other.
In front of him, once more, was the boy. The silks that shrouded him were looser now. Hands gripping them to his chest. He was only a foot or so away, and was staring intently at Taehyung’s chest. His armour was a beacon of silver in the golden nest. It had almost become golden as it reflected the colours of the cave. He looked from the boy to his own chest, still in shock, and he could see that the boy was trembling.
He reached out for his shoulders, but the other just stepped neatly back, his eyes still fixated on that one spot. Carefully, he began to back away, taking no heed of the uneven terrain under his bare feet. Slowly, slowly, until he was kneeling down in front of his mirror but still facing Taehyung. Quickly, he turned his head, now looking into the mirror once more. He carefully manoeuvred his body too, until he was in exactly the same position he’d been in when Taehyung had first walked in. Almost as if nothing had happened.
Cautiously, Taehyung approached. He dropped down to crouch at the boy’s side once more, studying his face carefully, but it was void of emotion. Still, the same large yellow eyes that had been boring into him just moments ago, now looked at themselves.
“Who are you?” He asked.
It was quiet for a long time after that, but the knight just sat, legs crossed, and waited, his limbs still stiff in shock, and he could see by his quivering fingers as they unravelled the end of one of the fabrics, that the boy was unsettled too. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been there. It felt like yesterday that he’d first entered the cave, but he knew it could only have been minutes since he’d sat down by the boy.
One minute turned into two, into three, into five, into ten, until time stretched and it’d been an hour, before the boy spoke up.
“Why are you still here?”
“I-“
“You haven’t killed me, and yet you came to slay a dragon. So why are you still here?” His fingers tap, tap, tapped on his knees.
Taehyung wasn’t quite sure what to answer, so he said nothing. He looked around, and his own face stared back at him, a thousand, no two thousand times, reflected in the stolen gold and mirrors that were scattered all over. They were small, but many, none like the large one the boy currently sat in front of. It was oval, with an intricate black frame, about a meter high, and a foot across.
“I was cursed.”
Taehyung turned his head to look as the other spoke.
“Years ago, a witch, she did this to me, she cursed me…”
The confession was sudden, but it was that of someone who’d been alone for a long time. It was like the boy was repenting. Wanted to tell someone his secret before he died. And he thought the time had come.
There was a glare across his features now, nose crumpled in distaste. The dark circles under his eyes, and the mussed-up hair gave the boy a wild appearance, there was something broken, even if his features remained delicate. He gave a sniff. His fingers bunched the silk at his knees.
“I’m only human, when I can see my own reflection.” The boy blinked carefully. “More than a few seconds, and…”
Taehyung could guess. He watched as the boy pulled the silk around himself tighter. It was cold in the cave, even underneath his armour he could feel the draught. The light was dimming, and he wasn’t sure whether that was the outside light dying with the sun, or the candle in front of them dwindling.
The boy hugged his silks closer to him.
“If you are not going to kill me today, could you light another candle.” It wasn’t really a request, it was an order, and Taehyung complied. He carefully slid out of the matches from a box, and choose a large candle. He held the matchstick to the dying flame, and it took, just before snuffing out, and the space around them shrunk. The matchstick creating the only light. He saw the boy tense beside him, and quickly lit the other candle before the flame burnt all the way to his fingers. The wax from previous candles had puddled on the floor, layered on one another, and Taehyung just left his candle between those dips and rises.
The boy said nothing as Taehyung stood up, bent to pick up his sword and left.
It was dusk by the time he got back to his horse, the temperature outside was much warmer than the cool air of the cave. He untied the rope from the rock and swung up onto his horse and had reached the bottom of the mountain when he realised that his helmet was still amongst the piles of gold up in the cave.
He’d left it with the boy, no, he’d left it with the dragon.
---
It was a week before Taehyung went back to the cave. Leaving his mare halfway and walking the rest of the climb, he’d arrived a second time. Helmetless, he approached the nest with caution, slowly walking up the path made by the dragon before stopping when he reached the crest.
Just like before, the boy was sat, staring intently into his mirror. The black and gold silks were gone now, replaced with vibrant red. The gold at his neck had stayed the same, in his ears were golden rings. They’d been there when Taehyung had first come too. His dark hair a stark contrast with his unnaturally pale skin. Taehyung wondered how long it’d been since the boy had been in the sunlight.
Just like he’d done a week ago, the knight made his way over, and sat down. Now it was nearing midday, some outside light was streaming in, making everything more visible. It wasn’t just golden coins, or cutlery piled up around them, but a whole host of jewels, platters, chalices, and spears. Necklaces dangled from out jutting statues, small daggers, sheathed, pointed, and stuck into the mountains, wedged in almost every gap. Embellished in gem stones were music boxes, and other precious trinkets. Shields angled towards them, the light glinting from their angles, and other materials, soft fabrics hanging like cobwebs. Dust floated and hung in the air where the sunlight pierced through.
Something else he hadn’t noticed, was the pathway, similar to the one he’d just descended, on the other side of the cave, leading up and trailing into darkness.
Whichever way he looked, Taehyung could see himself from a million different angles.
He could hear the soft breaths of the boy just a couple of feet away. He stupidly wondered if the candle currently burning was the same one he’d left, but realised, that after a week, it couldn’t be. It looked barely used.
“Have you returned full of courage to finish your job?”
Taehyung couldn’t see his helmet, or maybe he had, lodged in with the rest of the treasure, and just hadn’t realised that it was his. There was so many after all. Just plates of armour, like the ones he was wearing, shoved into any available space. His hair was held back by the usual bandanna.
“I, don’t think so.” He replied after a while, setting his sword down in front of his knees.
“Ha!” His voice sounded bitter.
Just like last time, the cave was cool, and Taehyung felt himself shiver, though he wasn’t sure whether it was completely because of the temperature, or the boy’s response. He seemed more vocal today, or maybe more confident in Taehyung’s reluctance to hurt him.
“What is the point then, dear knight, in travelling all the way up to my cave, if you’ve simply come here to sit?”
“I-“
“Do you wish to pry? To learn more of my solitude, or maybe you will take my gold. Whatever, just do it, but take it from the outside and leave me be.” The boy was sat delicately on his knees, his feet bare, and the fabric only fell away to reveal his ankles when he pulled it tighter around himself. Hands cradled in his lap.
Maybe he regretted his impulsive confession a week ago.
“I have enough gold.”
“Then why must you bother me?”
“What is your name?”
There was a slight pause. “I do not have one.” He hung his head, looking through his hair and not daring to break eye contact with the mirror. A skinny hand reached out and cupped the flame of the candle, but it was dying. With the other hand, the boy grabbed for a matchstick, and sought out another candle. He lit it expertly, all the time still looking at his own reflection.
The two candles bathed them in an orange glow, making the boy’s red silks look like they were aflame, shining and flickering, until slowly, the first candle began to wither and die.
“Will you not tell me your name?” Taehyung tried again.
“I cannot remember it.” The other lied.
There was a shadow over his face, his cheeks looked hollow, his entire being too bony and frail. The complete opposite of the dragon.
“Have you eaten?”
“What would I eat?”
Taehyung looked around, there was indeed nothing, not even a trace, a bone, or a crumb.
“What about the dragon?” He knew the dragon had taken sheep the last time it’d appeared on the outskirts of the kingdom.
“It does not transfer. I am the dragon, but my body is separate. The scraps I get, are from my raids, when I bring back what I can find.” His voice cracked, his throat dry. Parched.
“Then I shall bring you food.” Taehyung rose.
He returned hours later, as the sun was beginning to set.
A large sack was thrown over his shoulder filled with mostly breads and apples and the occasional pastry. He dropped it loudly about a meter away from the mirror, and crouched down. Taking out a small bun, he handed it to the boy, who took it greedily.
He ate quickly, and in near silence. Taehyung had taken an apple for himself and watched the boy calmly. There was a pang of pity in him. He felt sorry for the boy, who looked so overwhelmingly small and lonely as he gazed into his mirror. Had he been alone all this time? There was no way he’d talked to anyone except for Taehyung, in years.
“How long have you been alone?” He bit into his apple.
“How long is a piece of string?”
The boy went back to his feasting, holding his hands out for more, and the knight just passed him another loaf of bread. His unwavering appetite hadn’t diminished. If anything, it seemed to grow, but Taehyung himself was no longer hungry. He held his apple, and studied it.
“How long have you been cursed?”
“Half a decade.”
Taehyung frowned. He’d discovered in the last hour, that he would have to ask specific questions, in order to get specific answers. The boy had given him too many vague replies, so he had to ask the right things if he wanted to avoid riddles. If not, his questions would just be answered with questions.
The boy reached out his hand again, as he polished off his food, and this time Taehyung passed him a flask. The other drunk greedily, the water spilling from the corners of his mouth as he took big gulps. He angled his head so he could still see his reflection as he tilted the flask to get the last of the water.
“It’s getting late.” Taehyung murmered.
“So what are you going to do dear knight?”
He ignored the mocking tone. The scornful nickname. But did feel that he boy should be more grateful, seeing as he’d brought him all of this food. Taehyung gripped the apple in his hands, taking one last bite before offering it to the boy who accepted it with no qualms. He took a bite, the crunch loud in the silence of the cave.
“Won’t you tell me your name?”
“Why should I, when I do not yet know yours?”
The candlelight rose higher before calming back down.
“It’s Jimin.” He said.
“You lie.” Replied the boy. He said it simply, no hint of accusation, just a statement of fact. He took another bite of the apple, chewing it slowly as if thinking.
They both knew the importance of names. A name was everything. It gave someone power over you, because until you knew someone’s name, they remained a stranger. They could be anyone, the possibilities infinite, but a name anchors them, makes them someone solid. It shows they belong.
“Taehyung.”
The boy paused, the apple frozen before his lips. They curved into something like a smile, but it wasn’t sincere.
“You and I both know what’s in a name dear knight.”
It was true. If a witch or any other magical being knew your name, then you would be at their mercy. There were stories or people giving the name of their enemies to magic folk. When they were losing in a battle, or desperate, many of the higher classes would turn to magic to solve their problems. If enough gold changed hands, almost anything could be bought. A small spell here and there.
The only thing that a witch couldn’t be paid to cast, as a death curse. But there were many other fates.
But without rich bribes, most who possessed magic were harmless and wouldn’t bother going out of their way to cause harm. But sometimes, sometimes if you directly hurt them with intent, you may get cursed.
Did the boy have magic of his own? Taehyung doubted it.
“That was very foolish of you.”
“Everybody knows my name.”
“Ah, so we’re boasting about our own vulnerability now-“
“Even so. Who would you tell?” Taehyung raised an eyebrow, sick of the boy’s taunts.
“First you come to kill me, then you feed and water me, and now you mock me. Have you always been this tactful when handling your victims?” He scoffed before taking another bite of the apple and dropped it on the floor. The core landed with a wet smack on the stone. The boy started sucking his fingers clean before wiping them on the red silks. His tongue darted out to lick his lips in a manner that wasn’t unlike a reptile.
“No.” Taehyung said quietly.
He stood, and toed the sack of food closer to the boy. It was still mostly full, and tilted and tumbled over to rest against the boy’s thigh.
Taehyung looked at the mirror and into those round amber eyes. They weren’t just a block colour, but had threads of yellow and red twisting and worming around near the edges. Just like the dragon, the boy’s pupils were vertical slits, giving them an inhuman air. They were too bright and unnatural. Adding a danger to the gaunt and withered face.
The eyes didn’t look at him, just stared back at the face they belonged to. They were rimmed with black, smudged and thick like makeup around his eyes. It could have just been a trick of the light, or it could have been small scales, tiny, pointing up through his skin.
Taehyung left, not bothering to pick up his sword this time, and not bothering to look back over his shoulder either. He did however pause as he looked up at the path trodden in the gold before him, a valley carved through the riches. That’s when he heard the smallest voice break the silence.
“Jungkook.”
It was a whisper, a desperate plea not to abandon him and Taehyung wasn’t entirely sure if the boy had intended him to hear, but he sounded grateful, he
sounded young and pitiful, so the knight just kept on walking.
---
Taehyung visited the boy the next day, and the day after that, and the day after that too. Each time bringing with him water and food. The boy – Jungkook – spoke on occasion, and he seemed surprised that Taehyung returned day after day.
Foolishly, he’d begun to stop wearing his armour sometimes when he visited.
“You’ve not come to kill me today either?”
“Nope.” Taehyung smiled as he sat down next to him. Today he’d carried with him an extra bag, full of candles and matches because he knew Jungkook was running out.
Jungkook never looked at him, he couldn’t. The only time he’d seen the knight’s face had been the first time they’d met, and the dragon had stared into his eyes. He hadn’t seen the dragon since. Only the small boy who sat in front of the mirror. He didn’t even think Jungkook was that small. When he was sat next to him, Taehyung was only an inch or so taller.
He wondered if Jungkook was ever tempted to look away from his reflection. He knew he would be. But perhaps after five, almost six years, he wouldn’t feel that pull anymore. Taehyung asked him.
“Every day.” Jungkook had replied.
“Doesn’t it ever get boring? Just siting and staring?”
“Sometimes, but I have a lot of time to think.” He shifted where he sat. His silks were a navy today, pulled around him, hugging his shoulders and threaded with silver. The ends of the fabric embroidered with strips of silver, curling, and swirling around like the wind. Like the tiniest of trees, branches thin and snaking along the hem. The weather was getting colder, and Taehyung could see that Jungkook was getting colder too.
“What do you think about?” He tilted his head.
“Everything.”
---
Five days, and five visits later, Taehyung brought with him a bundle of thick blankets.
If he could have, Taehyung was convinced that Jungkook would’ve looked up at him in awe. But he couldn’t, which was why the knight was bringing him the blankets in the first place.
With autumn in full swing, the world outside turning to the same colour as Jungkook’s eyes, Taehyung had started to dress in layers. He’d abandoned his armour completely now when visiting Jungkook. It was stupid, he knew. But he truly believed that Jungkook would try his best not to hurt him.
Despite his snarky and sometimes hurtful comments, Taehyung knew he was trying.
“What does it look like outside?”
Taehyung had been setting the thick blankets down beside Jungkook when the boy had spoken.
“I miss the world, please tell me.”
Taehyung stilled. He opened and closed his mouth as he searched for the right words. He didn’t know exactly what Jungkook wanted him to say.
“It, the sky, it’s blue, and, and-“
Jungkook stopped him.
“Tell me properly. How does autumn look?”
So Taehyung told him in as much detail as he could. Jungkook stopped him occasionally to ask about the dew in the grass, or the frost in the mornings, the puddles on the paths, and the leaves that turned the ground into a sunset. He’d always loved the leaves, but when Taehyung had compared them to his eyes, he blanched.
Taehyung reached out and put one of the blankets round his shoulders. It was thick and woolly, and Jungkook gladly wrapped it around himself. Today he was wearing a green so pale it had looked white when Taehyung had first seen him that morning. The colour slowly became bolder and brighter as it reached the end of the silk, the gradient soft and hardly visible. The green the shade of the grass in summer.
Taehyung hadn’t noticed at first, but like the gold at his neck and in his ears, there were also bangles around Jungkook’s wrists, thick and reflective.
“Every day you’re wearing a new colour.” He stated.
“And every day you wear a dull beige.” Jungkook brushed him off dismissively.
Taehyung rolled his eyes.
“Where do you get it all?”
“Where do I get any of it?”
“Stop doing that!”
“Doing what?” His voice was calm, but completely knowing.
“Stop answering my questions with more questions.”
“And why, should I do that Taehyung?”
It was the first time he’d said his name, but his words were sharp, his voice cold.
“Because it’s irritating.”
Taehyung had known though. He had felt the shift as soon as he’d mentioned Jungkook’s eyes. How the air had sunk, heavy like lead. It was similar whenever he mentioned the dragon, but this time worse. Maybe it was because if they talked about the dragon, it was a separate being from Jungkook, but he’d mentioned the eyes, something both possessed, and he knew Jungkook resented him for that.
“Why are you here?”
“I brought blankets. You were cold.”
“But why?”
His voice was steadily growing more detached.
“Because it’s cold, it’s nearly winter. I just want to help Jungkook.” Whilst his tone was only getting more desperate.
“But I don’t need your help. Nor do I want it.” His tone brisk.
“Don’t be so stubborn. Would you freeze to death because you refuse to accept my help?”
“Of course not! Why would you ask? You keep insisting on seeing me, on helping me. You sit with me. You spend hours alone in this cave with me. Why Taehyung? You act like I can’t look after myself, that I’m helpless, always doing things for me, like I’m a child-“
“You are a child.”
“I am not!”
“Look at yourself Jungkook.”
“Ha! Like I can do anything else. I’m cursed. What could you possibly do for me?”
“More than you’ve ever done for yourself. Why must you be so selfish? Have you always been so spoiled? Did you ever care about anyone? Do you even miss the people you once knew, or do you just miss your luxuries, your privileges, your power?”
It was quiet then, as Taehyung spat out his words and their anger culminated. It’d peaked, and now they were both breathing heavily. This wasn’t the first time they’d clashed, and it probably wouldn’t be the last either.
“I do not need your help.” Jungkook rubbed at his face, eyes red, cheeks raw. A sniff came from him, but Taehyung was already turning away.
“You’re wrong.” He said quietly. “You do not need your pride.”