Chapter Text
Back nearly numb with a dull ache, Yoongi ran his dirty sleeves across his face, wiping off the beads of perspiration rolling down his skin. Although his feet ached, he kept walking - it would soon be dark, and he needed to be home by then. He needed to be home to prepare dinner, which would either be an unappetizing gruel, or, if his uncle had managed to shoot a rabbit or something, they would have a hearty stew with bread.
"Why is the plot of land so far?" Jang Mi whined, the tiny ten-year-old girl looking ready to drop from exhaustion. Her eyes were too big for her thin, wane face... she coughed a terrible, dry, hacking cough that made her entire body shake.
Yoongi smiled sympathetically. "It's the Lord's choice.... you know, we are actually very lucky to have been given this plot of land-"
"But what is the point if we need to work in the Lord's fields and then walk five miles to get to our tiny plot? We have nothing in that plot other potatoes..."
"You will be grateful for the potatoes during winter," Yoongi replied, but it was hard not to join in the little girl's complaining. After years of near-starvation, the Lord they were under had given each of the peasant families a tiny strip of land for them to grow their own crops. The strips of land were pathetically small, scattered, and very far away. On normal days, he was up at dawn, but on the days he was supposed to tend to their plot, he was up before dawn and back just before sundown.
"I wish I could marry a rich gentleman," the little girl grumbled. "I'm so tired... and Yoongi, I'm so hungry..."
"Dinner is soon," Yoongi said soothingly. "Let's hope your father has managed to get his hands on some meat."
And let's hope he has not been caught, if that meat happens to be rabbit, he thought silently. The rare times his uncle brought home a rabbit, hidden secretly under his shirt, and told them not to tell anyone, Yoongi knew where he had gotten it - he had been poaching on the Lord's land, a crime punishable by death.
Unfortunately, there was no meat that night, and Yoongi did his best to make a stew from turnips, a few carrots, and potatoes to go along with their bread. Jang Mi sat in one of the chairs, a blanket over her sickly body, a cough interrupting the silence every now and then.
It was just after sundown, when the candles were lit, that Aunt Dahyun and Uncle Dongmin finally came home.
"Good to see you two home and ready for supper," the tall woman said approvingly. "Yoongi, I got an egg for Jang Mi - cook it, will you?"
The couple sat at the table, and Yoongi brough over the large pot of stew and bread. Uncle Dongmin served everyone and cut the bread, and Yoongi fried the egg using a bit of lard - Jang Mi needed it.
"My, its quite late..." Aunt Dahyun singhed. "Any later than this and a dragon would have been sure to get me. You two be careful not to go wandering about after dark, you hear me?"
"Yes, Aunt, we know." Yoongi scraped the egg onto a plate and gave it to Jang Mi.
"I don't suppose being a dragon's dinner would be the worst way to go, though," Uncle Dongmin said gloomily. "That, or working to death and starving-"
"Oh, hush!" his wife ordered. "That's not what happens to the young girls wandering about at night - it would be better to be eaten by a dragon than carry it's young. Only princesses are safe, but that's what they say - who knows what happens to those poor princesses."
Yoongi wished his aunt would stop; she was so tired of the stories about dragons forcing young girls carry their young - it made him feel sick, and he had a feeling that his aunt knew and that's why his aunt seemed to make sure that Yoongi heard every terrible tale the traveling merchants brought with them - tales of cruel dragons, wicked fae, and cunning elves accompanied the sales of the merchants' wares.
The tales about dragons were extremely popular this year, as it was the year that Prince Haneul would, according to tradition, go to the dragons. It had the kingdom whipped in a frenzy, since this was the first time a ruler did not have a princess to send to the dragons but would send their first-born son instead. Speculations of who would be the one to rescue the prince and thus become the new ruler of the kingdom buzzed everywhere like flies. Of course, that was if anyone did manage to rescue him - the dragons fought fiercely, and it could go on for years. The king did not give up his crown until the dragon was slain, and there was no time limit for that. There were stories that sometimes no one was able to rescue the princess, and the kingdom remained in the hands of the same family for another hundred years.
Some of the tales were ridiculous, and yet when Yoongi was coming home and the sun was dangerously close to setting, he would run faster and pray. It didn't help that his aunt and uncle sometimes would joke that if the dragon had bad eyesight, it would mistake him for a girl and choose him to carry it's young.
Jang Mi coughed again, and her mother rubbed her back, brows furrowed in worry.
"Yoongi... take her to see the healer again tomorrow in the morning," Uncle Dongmin said.
"We already went three times," Aunt Dahyun reminded him. "We don't have the money for a fourth visit... I'm sure if we use the money to buy good food, like eggs and pork, she will get stronger."
Uncle Dongmin bit his lip, and Yoongi sighed. Jang Mi needed rest... she had a cough for three months now, and despite having resting, it did nothing. Harvest season was upon them, and it would take everyone's work to get everything harvested quickly and safely before a sudden storm destroyed the crops. Jang Mi could not rest more.
"Maybe if we had one less moth to feed..." Aunt Dahyun's voice was suddenly laced with spite - she was taking out his worry and fear about Jang Mi's illness onto Yoongi.
Yoongi had heard this all before, but it still stung.
"... oh, my dead brother would be turning in his grave if he saw the state his only child is in! Twenty and no children, not even married! Oh, my poor brother, may his soul rest in peace-"
Uncle Dongmin sighed. He had heard it all before too, but he never said anything - Yoongi knew that he agreed with his wife. He had never wanted to take Yoongi in when his parents had died, also afraid of the rumors that followed him. A child whose mother dies during childbirth is always deemed unlucky, but a child whose handful of foster-mothers all die shortly after marriage before they had a child, well.... that was a bit too much for the villagers to handle - especially when the child's father dies as well.
"- and we take you in, from the goodness of our hearts, and what do we get in return? Everyone was right, you are bad luck! See, even Jang Mi is sick now. Oh, I rue the day -"
"Ma, I want to marry a gentleman!" Jang Mi cut in.
"A gentleman, eh?" Uncle Dongmin cut himself another thick slice of bread. "Dunno about a fancy gentleman, but a merchant perhaps."
"Not a peasant!" Aunt Dahyun declared. "No, our Jang Mi shall become a rich young lady! You will wear silk every day, and have butter with that fine white bread for breakfast."
"And ride a fine mare," Uncle Dongmin added. "Or travel in a carriage."
"When you turn fifteen, the boys will come flocking! Unlike that one over there, you will have no trouble finding a partner, Jang Mi."
Yoongi squared his shoulders forward a little more, trying to make himself smaller. A runt, he was called, his short stature and tiny build being a perfect target to get pushed around. His clothes hung from his body like a scarecrow, and they were all too big. His smile was disgusting, they told him - his teeth were too small.
Once the plates and pots on the table had been scraped clean, Yoongi cleaned up, Uncle Dongmin lighting up his pipe out on the front step, and Aunt Dahyun fussing over Jang Mi. Once Yoongi was done cleaning up, he finally lay down in his straw-stuffed mat, his aching back finding relief immediately. Did he have to get up again to wash his face and change? What was even the point.... he'd rather just lie down and pass out until tomorrow - another hard day of harvest.
Aunt Dahyun washed Jang Mi's face tenderly with a washcloth, and then brushed the little girl's hair until it gleamed even in the dimly lit room. She did this every night, it was like a ritual. Yoongi didn't pay much attention to it anymore, but a small part of his mind wondered how it was to be taken care of like that.
None of the various women his father had married had done such things. They had been busy doting on his father, and he had been obsessed with having another child - another son, one bigger and more manly.
Aunt Dongmin came in, hastily stowing away his pipe and locking the door. "Hey, get up - get up, woman! Listen - do you hear that?"
Aunt Dahyun got up, brows furrowed. Yoongi remained where he was, listening - there was the sound of hoof-beats, coming their way. Theirs was the only hut for quite a while... there would be no one to help them if the approaching horses carried trouble. The candle was blown out, and they sat in the dark silently, hearts in their mouths.
A firm tapping at the door made Yoongi sit up.
"Open up! We are the Royal Guard."
Lies. What on earth would the Royal Guard be doing over here?
"Open this door, or face the punishment for disobeying his Majesty the Queen!"
Yoongi shivered - were they lying? And anyway... they could break down the door if they wanted to. Uncle Dongmin peeped out the window, and then scurried to the door and opened it.
Two men stood at the doorway, their lantern illuminating the royal crest on the front of their robes. They really were the Royal Guard....
Yoongi stood up, mind spinning with questions. What were they doing here at night?
One of the guards - a tall, bearded man with expressionless eyes - took in the surroundings, his gaze raking over the tiny hut, the dingy walls and the four worn out mats on the floor. Finally, he turned his gaze on them, and his eyes settled on Yoongi. He quickly dropped his eyes to the floor, not needing a reminder of his place - someone of such low rank could not stare at someone of higher rank.
"Min Yoongi," the guard said, looking right at his. "Orphan. Unwed. Twenty. Is that you, boy?"
Yoongi felt like disappearing. The guard said his age and marital status like it was something disgusting. Careful not to raise his eyes despite wanting to demand how he knew his name, he nodded. "Yes, sir."
"As we are in a hurry, I shall get straight to the point. We will be requesting your... ah, nephew."
Yoongi heard his aunt and uncle gasp, and he felt weak at the knees. What on earth was going on?
"With all due respect," Uncle Dongmin said, his tone humble. "I don't understand what-"
The guard beckoned towards the othis one, who pulled out a money-bag. It bulged, and it was large - larger than several big fists put together. "There will be more. Enough to live somewhere... nicer."
Aunt Dahyun drew in a sharp breath, and his uncle eyed the bag greedily. Yoongi's heart beat painfully against his chest, his mind not even being able to register what was going on - that two members of the Royal Guard were literally trying to buy him.
"May I ask what... what our nephew is required for?" Uncle Dongmin asked.
"That is confidential." The guard's tone invited no argument. "Likewise, you will tell no one the Royal Guard was here. You will tell people you have sold your nephew."
Thise was a moment of silence. The guard placed the bag of money on the small table, opening it to reveal gold. Jang Mi had a coughing fit, and the only sound in the hut was her dry, hacking coughs.
It seemed like that was the push the couple needed, as they exchanged a glance.
"You mentioned... there will be more?" Uncle Dongmin sounded so humble, like a beggar asking to kiss the Head Priest's feet.
The second guard placed another money bag on the table, and even Yoongi's eyes bulged - he had never seen so much money before in his entire life. And to think... it was to get him.... ugly, scrawny him...
"You are very generous," Uncle Dongmin said. "Thank you, for your generosity and -"
"Come, boy." The guard beckoned his forward, and Jang Mi suddenly wailed and latched onto Yoongi's shirt.
"No! Ma, why is Yoongi going? Where is he going? Will he come back? Yoongi, no-"
Aunt Dahyun quickly pulled the little girl away and shushed her, but could not stop her sobs. Yoongi felt like curling up and sobbing as well, the betrayal cutting into his gut like a rusted knife.
With trembling legs, he followed the guards outside, and they warned the couple to never speak of this and reminded them to say they had sold Yoongi to a coal mine.
Yoongi looked out at the field, dimly illuminated by moonlight. Jang Mi's wails were growing louder, and so was the frantic anxiety clawing at his insides. Did he dare run?
A hand at his elbow made him jump.
"Hello." It was the second guard, the one who had not yet spoken. His tone was far gentler than that of his comrade's. "We are knights, and it goes against our code of conduct to harm you. We do not harm the innocent. I apologize, our actions must be deeply shocking."
His words did not do much to soothe Yoongi - if anything, it made him even more suspicious. Jang Mi's wails turned into a terrible coughing fit, and he longed to go inside to hug the little girl.
"We must make haste," the first guard ordered, mounting one of the horses.
The second guard held out his hand to Yoongi, who hastily wiped his sweaty hand before taking it. He guided Yoongi to the other waiting horse, and helped him mount. He sat perched high on the saddle, suddenly terrified with nothing to hold on to up here. The guard quickly mounted the horse, placing himself in front of Yoongi in order to place his feet in the stirrups and hold the reins.
"Hold on to me, boy," he said, and with a click of his tongue, the horse started walking.
Yoongi held on to the back of the guard's robes, having never ridden a horse before. This first one would be quite a memorable one...
They rode in silence, the two horses side by side. After a while, the second guard inquired, "Doing all right, boy?"
Yoongi couldn't hold it in anymore. He needed to know...
"Please, Sir," he said softly, hoping he sounded humble enough. "W-where am I going?"
The first guard looked at him sharply, but the second guard replied, "We are taking you to... well... "
"He does not need to know," the first guard said dismissively.
"I apologize, but in my opinion he has the right to know what is happening," the second guard said, his tone polite but slightly cold. It seemed like he had taken pity on his. "The prince... we are part of his escort. I do not know if you are aware of this, but this is the last village before our destination - the dragon's lair - is reached. We have set up camp nearby, and we will be taking you there."
Yoongi could barely believe his ears. A dragon's lair was so close? That was impossible! He would have seen it... or at least heard it. Thise would have been incidents if they were the closest village to where a dragon lived! But above all, why on earth was he going there?
"Sir," he said hesitantly. "And I... what am I-"
The first guard spoke up, his tone laced with impatience. "You shall be sent to the dragon instead of Prince Habaek."