Work Text:
Life is a tricky affair, no matter who you are or what you think you may be worth. Life is a duty that we must all fill somehow in the short amount of time that garces us. No matter your ethnicity or beliefs, there will always be an obstacle that life has thrown at you. One would be foolish to believe their existence is tranquil and neutral.
For Taehyung, life had been kind, because he knew of Death. He knew of her practices, and he valued her.
Death was a lesson in patience, because eventually, will all perish underneath her grasp.
Death was a lesson in respect, as one must recognise the art behind collecting someone’s life, their fulfillment.
But most importantly, Death was a lesson in humility, because even the greatest heroes who have vanquished beasts and demons all end up bowing beneath her.
Taehyung knew all that, and he accepted it. He took it all and always bowed in her presence. It wasn’t fear he felt, no, but revere towards her.
It was in this exact moment where he wondered if she’d been right to let him go.
The metal chains rested heavily against his skin, leaving large red marks that stung with every material they came in contact with. He heard more people talking excitedly from behind the curtain that enveloped his cage in complete darkness. He couldn’t see more than the tip of his nose, and it was frigid, too, just like in the evening.
Although, the concept of time had merged within itself for him, rendering his senses completely useless. Was it evening? Midday? Morning? He had no way of knowing, his stomach barely contained full by the water diluted ‘soup’ his captors would give him. Whenever they remembered the creature needed food as well.
Taehyung remembered the first couple days, how he had thrashed and tugged, his claws scraping cheeks and arms. Soon enough, his captors understood to keep him completely immobilised, something he was extremely unaccustomed to. His large wings itched to feel the wind brush against the dark feathers.
“Ladies and Gentlemen!” a booming voice addressed the murmuring whispers from the other side of the curtain, making Taehyung blink his eyes in awareness, “We have traveled far and wide, all in the hopes to find wonders that this world we call ours has granted us!”
Taehyung heard the sounds of heavy boots make their way towards him, two men carefully taking a hold of the drape.
“And we have been rewarded!” the announcer continued, “For on the other side of a hidden cliff nestled deep within the Ku-Ji mountain, there is another world that awaits us! Noblewomen and men, we have seen things that not even the most imaginative child could dare make up! I present to you, a new race of animals, the kind that will be forever imprinted in your mind!”
The two men quickly pulled the drape off, revealing Taehyung to a massive public of colorful clothes and wonder-stricken faces.
They watched like hungry predators the animal before them. It looked like them, only this thing had long, absolutely breathtaking wings coming out of its back. They were long, they were bended just like a bird’s to fit in the cage. The feathers looked soft from afar, long and slightly ruffled. But it was their color that made jaw drops, their multitude of nightly hues that all blended together to create a flow of colors that resemble the night sky. Pitch black and blue.
Taehyung wanted to move away from the stares, from these things that let their gazes linger on him and his exposed skin. The auctioneer had taken his shirt in order to properly expose his back, his only clothes begging his ruffled trousers. He was completely chained up, his head hanging low in an attempt to ignore the hungry eyes. He couldn’t even flinch away. His dark curls fell in his eyes, obscuring his eyes further.
The auctioneer didn’t seem to appreciate his product recoiling. He moved around the large stage, stepping carefully next to the cage, much to the astoundment of the audience. His arm was just skinny enough to fit through one of the cage’s bars, taking ahold of Taehyung’s locks and yanking his head back, so everyone could see the full extent of his product. Taehyung winced, his roots burning against his scalp.
“Now,” the auctioneer said, grabbing back some of the public’s attention, although most of them were still transfixed on the creature before them, “It may need a little bit of discipline, but wouldn’t it be a simple delight for you to have this gem with you? The first ever found wingman, all to yourself! Who calls for 5,000 Gyuns?”
Silence filled the room, mouths gaped open and greedy eyes twinkled with geen. Many held onto their number panels tightly, fingers itching to touch and own. What could one do with this creature? Even the most mundane person in this crowd had come up with a few ideas.
Before the auctioneer could start to worry about the prolonged silence, a number shot up, “I offer 6,000!”
A pleased smile creeped up on the actioneer’s visage, his hand finally leaving Taehyung’s hair so he could step forward and observe the bidders.
“Do I hear higher?” he addressed the crowd.
All Taehyung could do was look at the edge of where the large stage ended, not quite looking at the audience but not quite hiding his face away either, in fear that the man would inflict more pain. He ached. Everywhere. Not even five days ago he was home, his home, with his friend, and now he was lower than ever. Taehyung couldn’t fly, move, or even speak. He wouldn’t speak, wouldn’t give these people the satisfaction of hearing him. He learned that it had seemed to anger his captors a lot when he had suddenly gone mute three days ago. He hoped it would have a similar effect on the crowd.
“10, 000!”
“12, 000!”
“I say 15, 500!”
Well, it didn’t seem like his lack of voice seemed to burden the bidders.
No one could put a price on life, he knew that. He tried not to let the nerves derange him, but if these people had somewhat the same currency as his people, then the urge to throw up was becoming more and more tempting.
His hands itched with the gloves the captors had forced him to wear, large metal rings squeezing the fabric around his hands and nearly cutting off his blood circulation. These people probably didn’t even think he had blood in his body. He looked like something that wasn’t explainable to them, and he hated that. Taehyung wanted more than ever to fly away.
There was nothing for him to do. So, he lifted his head ever so slightly, the first row of heads coming into view. The first thing that managed to catch his attention was a hooded figure seated on the front row. The person’s hood was discrete, a mauve brown colour that was slightly faded from use. Yet, this person didn’t look out of place amongst the nobles breathing down his neck, he looked so at ease.
As though nothing could disturb his perfect tranquility, that he had nothing to worry about, and that was what scared Taehyung. This was the type of aura that could make him want to show his claws, because this was the type of person that simply felt arrogant. As though he thought he already could own Taehyung and everyone in this room. It amused him, somewhat, that this hooded figure showed themselves.
He’d always had a great sixth sense. And simply by looking a little harder, forcing his eyes to decipher the darkness from beneath the hood, Taehyung knew that whoever this person was, no matter how confident and daring, was also an extremely huge idiot. The thin gold rings adoring his fingers that rested against his knees were enough of a tell.
“I hear 20, 000!” the auctioneer shouted, “Do I hear higher? Going once, go-”
“500, 000.”
Everyone in the room looked up at the raised panel held by the hooded figure, Taehyung’s stomach sinking further into his gut, the knots in his skin further twisting as a sense of dread invaded him. Everyone looked stunned, mouths held open and fingers nervously tapping their own number panel.
No one even dared breathe, the silence enveloping the room lingered with strictures. It was the archetype of all bad things, a calm before a storm. Taehyung could see the disbelief in the people’s eyes, the greed.
But no one raised their voice.
The auctioneer finally seemed to regain some control over himself, stuttering, “500, 000 g-g-going once, go-going tw-twice?”
There were no objections, only silent famine.
“S-sold to number 56!”
Quickly the men that had revealed Taehyung to the public came back at the cage’s side, throwing the veil on him once more, and hurrying the cage away. Taehyung swayed slightly in his confinments as the cage was brusquely lifted and carried, the men having little self control over the joy of being finally paid so handsomely.
Taehyung felt the cage make contact with the ground once more, voices closer to him before the men took once again the veil off the cage.
There were roughly ten people in the small wooden room, a desk at the center of it with the auctioneer preening at the hooded figure.
“You’re too good sir!” the auctioneer exclaimed, “This little wonder here is quite the trouble, I should tell you. Now,” he opened one of the wooden drawers from the desk, taking out a small pile of papers, “Since it’ll be your property, I’ll need a name and direct payment.”
Everyone in the room looked expectantly at the stranger, even Taehyung.
“Jeon Jungkook,” the man said.
A short beat of silence before the room exploded in laughter, Taehyung looking up at the twisted smiles strangely.
“I’m serious,” the auctioneer said, feigning to wipe a tear of laughter, “I need a name.”
The man sighed, before lifting his hood up from his face, clearly unused to disavowal.
Taehyung wished he was in a position to snicker at these people, because the mixed looks of disbelief, realisation downting down, and horror on their faces brought a small part of satisfaction in him. As though his predicament had somewhat hurted these people.
The face that burned holes in his skin was a lot younger than what Taehyung would have expected, but hardened by something indistcivable.
The auctioneer’s mouth hung open, before he scrambled to his feet and bowed furiously in front of the man, Jungkook. “M-my apologies your Highness, I-I didn’t believe-I mean-”
Your Highness?
“Here,” Jungkook interrupted the man, taking out from his large cloak a pouch filled with the highest amount of golden coins it could carry. He threw the bag at the auctioneer, who very clumsily caught it, “Payment.”
If possible, the man’s eyes widened even more, before he seemed to remember his manners and bowed again and again. “R-right, I’ll, I will just need your signature...”
He directed the man to his desk, and all too soon, Taehyung was registered as Jeon Jungkook’s property. An object for him to dispose of if he saw fit.
But Taehyung wouldn’t allow himself to cry, never. These people knew nothing, and he wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing him scared.
“You will need these, your Highness,” the auctioneer said, placing an extra pair of black leather gloves in Jungkook’s hands. Jungkook furrowed his brows, the auctioneer quickly stumbling out, “The thing has claws. They seem to grow out whenever it wants, but we’ve found that leather seems to restrict their growth.”
Jungkook nodded, putting the gloves inside his cloak. He walked over to the cage, finally taking a closer look at his new price.
Taehyung spit on his face as soon as he was close enough.
The looks of horrors on all the men’s faces only enhanced his satisfaction as Jungkook wiped the spit of his cheek.
“I-I-I am terribly sorry, your Highness!” the auctioneer nearly shouted, taking a handkerchief from one of his men and hurried over the Jungkook. “It-it-it just needs to be reminded of its place,” he undid the whip from his belt, cracking it around thin air before the first hit landed on Taehyung’s shoulder. The cage was slightly big enough to allow the tail to fit between the bars, and the shackles on Taehyung didn’t allow him to flinch away. Jungkook did nothing to stop the man, and Taehying did everything he could do to bite down the noises that wanted to come out of his throat.
Throughout the entire time, he looked at Jungkook, his hardened gaze and dark brown eyes. He felt a small smile tug his lips, this was exactly the type of person both him and Death hated. Arrogant, thought they were on top of the world they owned until thunder struck them down. It would be like clockwork, Taehyung thought. For the first time in the last several days, he felt a little bit of hope.
The men opened the cage, but Taehyung was still shackled down to it’s base. Carefully, they undid the metal chains that pressed Taehyung’s legs down and the metal collar around his neck that bound him to the cage. His hands remained gloved and chained in front of him, though, all of this just so he could stand up under the auctioneer’s orders. As he stood up for the first time in several hours, his wings finny unbended from the slightly awkward angle they had been forced in in the cage.
“Does it have a name?” Jungkook asked the auctioneer.
“We don’t know,” the man replied.
Jungkook looked expantly at Taehyung, waiting for an answer on his part. But Taehyung kept his lips sealed.
“Does it speak our language?” Jungkook asked again.
“We think so,” the auctioneer said, “Considering all the profanities it shouted at us the first few days.”
Taehyung couldn’t help but smirk a little at that. He remembered the hunter’s horror struck faces when he had insulted them of every single curse his long memory had been able to sprout.
Jungkook hummed, then took a step towards Taehyung. In response, Taehyung’s wings came in front of him, almost shielding him from the other man. The wings quickly recoiled back into place after the first crack of whip landed on them.
“It can’t fly away,” the auctioneer said, “because of this.”
The men that had stood behind Taehyung the whole time forced him to turn around, exposing his back to the smaller public.
“The base of the wings seem to be connected to it’s nervous system,” the auctioneer explained, “so just tie some leather around it and it won’t have enough strength to actually fly up.”
The men turned him back around, Jungkook’s face absolutely blank and devoid of any emotion. It didn’t falter though, that little hope that silently blossomed within Taehyung.
Patience, respect, humility, he kept repeating the words he came to associate with desperation like a mantra.
“I will be taking my leave now,” Jungkook announced the room, a man handing him the chain that connected Taehyung’s bonds before bowing down. A guard that Taehyung hadn’t noticed placed itself beside Jungkook.
Reluctantly, Taehyung followed Jungkook through the room, exiting the auction building from behind, Taehyung presumed, considering the lack of people. There was a large chariot waiting, the guard going to open the door for Jungkook. He climbed in the chariot, tugging the chain to signal Taehyung to climb in as well.
Even Though the chariot was big, Taehyung still had to bend his wings awkwardly so he could fit without having any feathers poking out, a slow strain carefully making its way up his back. He was so tired of having to bend his wings, they hurted from the base because of the wires and all over from the constant effort of restricting them.
Once the chariot was en route to whenever Jungkook had planned to take Taehyung, the man spoke again. “You can talk now.”
Taehyung raised his eyebrows at him, clearly unimpressed by the man’s confident tone. He kept his mouth shut, determined to be quiet.
Jungkook clicked his tongue, “I told you to do something. Do it.”
All that met Jungkook’s words was more silence, Taehyung batting his eyelashes innocently at him.
“Tell me your name,” he said once more, his words more agitated.
Taehyung simply stared at his feet, his skin bruised from walking around barefoot. Did these people really think he didn’t use shoes?
Jungkook’s hand shot up to grab at Taehyung’s hair, forcing the other to look up at him. But Taehyung kept his face neutral, brown eyes staring back at him. “Listen to me,” Jungkook said, his face much too close for Taehyung’s comfort, “When I tell you to do something, you do it. You have no power here, I fucking own you.” He let go of Taehyung’s hair, slumping back in his seat. “I’ll ask you one more time,” he warned, “Your name.”
It was oddly satisfying, seeing the way veins popped on Jungkook’s forehead and neck, how his face turned red and his pupils dilated. As satisfying as it was, the blow that impacted Taehyung's stomach was much less pleasurable. Taehyung coughed harshly, bending over himself in an attempt to soothe the blow. He thought he was going to hurle, but Jungkook’s hand once again gripped his hair, forcing him to look at him.
“You think you're so clever, aren’t you? Playing mute? That’s fine, I can just call you whatever I please.” He leaned back, leaving Taehyung to cough as much as he wanted.
“How about Nightingale? Since your wings are black like the night?”
Taehyung didn’t say anything, just stared at him with one eyebrow raised. It didn’t matter to him what Jungkook wanted to call him, he wouldn’t respond to the names anyways.
“Too long?” Jungkook mused, obviously taking pleasure in Taehyung’s credulous expression. “If you told me what type of bird you were, this would be much quicker.”
A cheap, very cheap attempt at making him talk, Taehyung knew. So instead, he just kept staring out the window, even though the curtains were drawn over.
“Raven? Crow? Owl? You really aren’t going to help me on this?”
Taehyung shrugged, eyes focused on the curtains. He felt Jungkook’s hand grab his wrist, turning it over to inspect the inside.
Oh.
Jungkook stared at the black ink permanently drawn on Taehyung’s skin, the lines sharp and precise. He was quiet for a while, eyes completely focused on the tattoo. Taehyung tried to free his wrist, but as soon as he moved Jungkook’s vice grip and nails digging into his skin had been enough of a warning.
“Guess I’ll call you ‘V’ then,” Jungkook said, finally letting go of Taehyung’s wrist.
The chariot stopped, the guard opening the door for Jungkook and Jungkook yanking on Taehyung’s chains, nearly sending the other stumbling out of the chariot. The guard smiled at Taehyung again, but he kept his eyes focused on the grand palace in front of him. It looked too much like a temple, with a bright red roof and wooden pillars.
Taehyung looked up at the sky, the clear blue sky that called for him. Then he looked at Jungkook, who was looking at him.
Taehyung swore, in that instant, that he would escape from this new found hell, even if he died trying.
Because if he lived, Life would still be there, smiling and filled with friskiness. But if he died, then Death would welcome him back.