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The ship grows further and further away as Seokwoo sinks into the watery depths of the ocean.
A mutiny of all things has been his downfall from Captain of the Fantasy. His crewmen must have been planning it for weeks, or so Seokwoo assumes, for tonight as Seokwoo slept in his room, his crewmen sneaked in and carried him to edge of the ship. Seokwoo’s drugged mind couldn’t grasp the happenings around him until the shock of freezing water wrapped around his body, swallowing him up.
He feels numb now, disjointed from his body in a way he hadn’t experienced since he’d nearly drowned as a child… He distantly wonders if he’ll miraculously be saved as he had been back then.
Seokwoo’s eyes slip shut, his ship gone and the only light coming from the moon in the sky.
-
Warmth, sleepy and pleasant, surrounds Seokwoo. Sore limbs ease as the warmth steadily covers him, and with a groan, Seokwoo opens his eyes, eyelashes caked with sand, and coughs lightly.
“Hey,” a soft voice speaks, a gentle hand accompanying it and rubbing Seokwoo’s back. “It’s okay, cough as much as you need to. I think you swallowed a lot of water out there.”
Seokwoo leans into the hand. The voice which sounds like that of an angel’s continues to speak gentle encouragement.
Seokwoo’s throat feels like sandpaper as he rasps out, “…water?”
“Oh! Of course!” Shuffling is followed by a canister being pushed into Seokwoo’s hand.
The ex-pirate captain drains the canister, the water refreshes his dry throat and he coughs wetly as the sudden moisture. Seokwoo pants lightly, his eyes drooping shut.
“Hm, yes. Sleep some more. You’ve had a tough journey,” says the voice.
Seokwoo closes his eyes and returns to his slumber.
-
Soft silk brushes his skin when Seokwoo wakes next and he buries his face into the pure heavenly comfort that is this mattress.
Wait, mattress? Silk? He might be a pirate but he’s never known such luxuries even with the whole stealing ships, messing with the navy and all that.
He lifts his head up from the bed and looks around. The room is lavishly decorated with golds and light pinks, some of the furniture is accented with seashells. There’s a canopy of light coloured netting draped above the bed. His limbs are deliciously warm, but it doesn’t keep him from stepping off the bed.
Where is he?
The last thing he remembers…
Silver moonlight, shimmering scales, and a stranger giving him water. It feels like a dream, but Seokwoo knows better as his joints ache and his muscles strain which can only be the result of fighting against waves. Any other reason that comes to mind doesn’t make sense.
The door to the room begins to open and Seokwoo lunges to grab the nearest weapon-like thing he can find.
“Woah—”
“Stay back,” growls Seokwoo. The newcomer is gorgeous. Pink hair pulled back into a bun, an eyebrow slit, and a soft handsome face. Seokwoo won’t let a pretty face get his defences down though. “Where am I? And who are you?” he demands.
The man blinks in surprise, obviously not expecting this when he opened the door, and begins to crack into laughter at the sight of Seokwoo.
“Why are you laughing?” Seokwoo scowls.
“You just—” His giggles become uncontrollable and Seokwoo frowns at him, leaving his fight stance to cross his arms. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I can’t take you seriously, were you really going to fight me with a hairbrush?”
“What-?” Seokwoo looks down and realises that he’d picked up a seashell adorned hairbrush in his panic rather than, you know, something that he could actually fight with. He huffs and glares at the man.
The guy’s amused eyes twinkle prettily at Seokwoo as he reins in control. “You?” He gestures at Seokwoo, and hearing the question in his voice, Seokwoo gives him his name. “Seokwoo, are in my palace. Prince Jaeyoon at your service.” He bows theatrically, shooting an impish smile at Seokwoo.
Seokwoo wants to baulk at that. He dislikes royalty with a passion, however, he will admit that he’s never heard of a Prince Jaeyoon in all his time on the sea. It feels strange that he wouldn’t have ever crossed swords with him before.
“I’ve never heard of you,” says Seokwoo, dis-trustingly.
Jaeyoon raised an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t be surprised about that. But… I’m sure you’ve heard of the merpeople of legend. My tail is the only reason you’re standing at this moment.”
“M-merpeople? They don’t exist.”
“Aw, don’t hurt my feelings! I’m standing right here!” Jaeyoon pouts. “Besides, I came to see if you were awake, and seeing that you are, I assume you’re quite hungry by now, yes? Follow me.”
He leaves the room, pausing at the entrance to beckon Seokwoo to follow. Seokwoo looks around. He’s lost so much; his ship, his crew, his sword. Perhaps finding an ally would not be such a bad idea.
The hallways are similar to the room that Seokwoo woke up in, extravagant in design and vast in size. Portraits hang from the walls in front of sculptures and plants. Seokwoo hopes he won’t have to traverse them alone—otherwise, even with his sense of direction—he might get lost.
His legs are sore and so, he has trouble keeping up with Jaeyoon’s gait(yes, even with his long legs). Jaeyoon with a flick of his eyes to the side, slows to match Seokwoo’s gait. They stay silent as they walk to their destination.
Large doors open as they turn another corner and Jaeyoon leads them into the dining room.
Palace workers bustle around, preparing the modestly sized table—the only thing that seems to be a reasonable size in this palace. Jaeyoon pulls out a chair for Seokwoo who feels all sorts of out-of-place with his simple trousers and shirt. Everything is so ornate and beautiful, and yet here is Seokwoo. Plain as bread.
Jaeyoon takes a seat beside Seokwoo, playing with his cutlery while they both waited for something (or someone?) to appear.
Seokwoo leans over to ask Jaeyoon just what they were waiting for as footsteps sound around the room. Big and booming.
Two burly men walk into the room, one clean-shaved and the other with a beard down nearly reaching his hips.
“Fathers,” Jaeyoon says in greeting.
“Son,” his fathers echo before taking their seats; one(the clean-shaven one) at the head of the table and the other to his side, across from Jaeyoon.
“Now,” clean-shaven rumbles (Seokwoo assumes he’s the king from his place at the table), his eyes going to rest on Seokwoo, his stare probing. “This is your betrothed?” The question is directed to Jaeyoon and Seokwoo’s brain halts in its tracks.
What?
“Yes, father,” Jaeyoon says, turning his gaze to Seokwoo and tilting his head at him to introduce himself.
“My name is Seokwoo,” he answers on auto-pilot. Still unsure how to respond to the situation.
“Very well. We should prepare the wedding as soon as possible then.”
Eating is a blur to Seokwoo, his only consolation is Jaeyoon’s pleading eyes when the shock clearly hit his face.
The walk through the hallways is strained, blanketed by Seokwoo’s questions and angry confusion and by Jaeyoon own panic.
They reach the room that Seokwoo woke up in and when Jaeyoon shuts the door, Seokwoo crowds him against it. The Prince’s back hitting the wood.
“What the hell was that about?” spits Seokwoo, easing back an inch when Jaeyoon flinches. Jaeyoon brings his hands up to Seokwoo’s chest, a light, comfortable pressure that politely asks for space. Seokwoo steps away, looking at anything and everything as his mind raced.
“It was the only way I could save you,” Jaeyoon says.
“Saying that we’re betrothed? We’ve never even met before!” Seokwoo’s voice raises, causing Jaeyoon to flinch again.
Jaeyoon quickly recovers and frowns. “You don’t remember?” He huffs and pushes past Seokwoo, searching for something in the room. He pulls a box out from under the bed, scooping a trinket out of the box and strides back over to Seokwoo to dangle it in front of his face.
“What is that-” Seokwoo begins but then something clicks, his lips part and he takes the trinket from Jaeyoon’s hand. “I lost this when I was a child, why do you?” It clicks as he meets Jaeyoon’s eyes again.
The trinket is a tiny, handmade bracelet. A conch shell charm hangs off the bracelet, swinging as Seokwoo holds it in the air. It had belonged to his mother and she gave it to him before her death. He’d lost it after his near-drowning as a child, but perhaps there’s more to the story than he remembers.
“You saved me…” mumbles Seokwoo as he clicks it together. Jaeyoon steps closer to him, looking up at him with a conflicted gaze.
“You’re all I’ve ever been able to think about since. You gave me this bracelet as thanks, and promised we’d meet again… Then I found you in the water, deep down, and I couldn’t let you die. I had you on the shore for a while, but,” He sighs. “Then, my fathers found you and were going to imprison you or kill you, and I— I couldn’t let that happen.
“It’s just a few days, until you’re rested up and then… Then I can sneak you away and off the island. I promise.”
Seokwoo parsed through the information, digesting it slowing.
“Thank you for saving me, Jaeyoon.” He smiles for the first time since he’d woken and Jaeyoon mirrored it with delight. “So, what’s our plan?”