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Once upon a time, there was a prince and a princess, as fair as winter sunrise. The prince was strong and kind, and as he grew the people of his land came to love and respect him. He would be spotted from afar, pink hair over green grass, traveling with trusted companions. The princess was no less admired, as beautiful as the most precious winter rose, her wide pink eyes sparkling with more light than a diamond.
Her beauty was so renowned, that there wasn't a single day where a gallant didn't come to their home to ask for her hand in marriage. For years, her family rejected all proposals, explaining that the princess was far too young for such endeavors, and each year, the gallants would come back asking again.
Until one day, where a most special messenger came.
Accompanied by quite the retinue, with no less than five full carts filled to the brim with exquisite gifts, came the shield of Faerghus himself to present the proposal of his king and queen. They would have their son, the prince Dimitri, marry the princess and forge a strong alliance between their countries. Such a proposal could not be refused simply because the princess was still young, the queen and king thought. And so, the shield of Faerghus was invited in with his retinue.
This is how the winter sunrise prince came to meet the knight from the land of winter.
What a sight to behold he was, his long deep blue hair carefully braided and draped over one shoulder, his eyes blue as the sky and piercing as daggers, his leather armor clinging to his lean shape, and the leather straps holding the large bone shield that proved his lineage crossing his chest and underlining his strong pectorals. The rest of the retinue seemed to be half transparent compared to him.
He kneeled in front of them as he recited the proposal and produced a life sized portrait of prince Dimitri for the princess to examine, but the winter sunrise prince could not be bothered to look at the face of the impertinent who would have his sister's hand, his gaze transfixed on the knight kneeling, a strand of hair loose across his forehead like a streak of ink on his beautiful face. The prince felt the painful need to brush it aside, to tilt the knight's face towards him, to have his icy stare fixed on him and him alone, as if that could alleviate the sudden heat he felt. How would it feel to have his whole attention? How impossible would it be, how intense? The prince's fingers twitched as he imagined running them through the silk of the knight's hair, undoing the braid, maybe tugging on it a little…
The princess shattered her brother's daydreaming and reminded him of his duties. She stood, dazzling as always, but uncharacteristically pale, and graciously accepted the first gift with only a slight tremble of her fingers. However enthralling the knight may be, the prince would never miss the signs of distress of his precious sister, and stepped in the conversation.
"Esteemed knight, we are grateful for this proposal and shall accept the gifts you bring. However, we cannot possibly agree to send the princess off to a foreign land so rashly."
The knight's gaze fixed on the prince, and the prince felt like a single ray of sunshine had pierced through heavy clouds from the heavens and continued its path right through his very soul. And then the knight spoke, voice soft as velvet.
"In their great wisdom, my king and queen did foresee this possibility and would like to extend the offer of their hospitality to the princess and her retinue, as to give her the opportunity to meet the prince. Once they are acquainted, they have no doubt the princess shall see the advantages of the proposed union."
Such a sweet voice used to speak foreign words, words of cruelty to the winter sunrise prince, as he was not ready to let his precious sister go. But alas, such a time was inevitable. He turned to her, waiting for her input, and they shared a meaningful look as she worried at the corner of her lip slightly, fingers tangled in the fabric of her dress at the risk of marking wrinkles into it. She was scared still. He had to intervene before their parents could agree to something dangerous for their daughter.
"We shall graciously accept their generous invitation. Now, sister, how much fun we shall have together! I hear they have the most extravagant parties in Faerghus."
The winter sunrise prince smiled sweetly and offered his arm to the princess, who took it gratefully, and they endured the upset stares coming from all parts together.
The travel preparations were quickly expedited, and the news of both the prince and princess leaving the country for a diplomatic visit made quite the scandal. How reckless to let them both go to a foreign nation, whatever shall the country become if ill were to befall them? But the prince could not be swayed, his will as strong and immovable as the Almyran mountains. Soon they held the farewell dinner with the most influential nobles and the Faerghus envoys, covering all in lavish food and entertainment. The knight made himself scarce, as he had since the first meeting, avoiding any situation where he could come in close contact with the winter sunrise prince. It appeared that he held a grudge on behalf of his prince, cross with the overly protective brother who had imposed himself as chaperone.
He could not hide away on the road, however, and soon enough the winter sunrise prince was seeking him out, engaging in small races, making up hunting challenges and having them all quite occupied, for he had never been a dull man. The knight resisted as he may, but when the princess bested him with bow and arrow he forgot all pretense and became the loudest and most competitive of their party.
The knight was a proud and competent warrior, with a bit of magic to him as well. White, healing magic came to him the easiest, but he seldom used any, ashamed that the battle spells eluded him. The winter sunrise prince saw quite the accurate representation of their traveling companion in this little fault of his, as he came to know a deeply gentle and caring soul shaped by ego and iron will into a ruthless warrior, an unwavering shield who could never know any peace or happiness in his station. The cold gaze was naught but ice over a shattered heart of gold.
As the princess made it her mission to get to know every last soul of the Faerghus retinue, the winter sunrise prince could not look away from the knight. His long hair whipping in the wind as they raced on horseback, his strong stance as they hunted wild boars, his porcelain skin when he undid his armor at times of rest, his rare smiles warming as they learned to know each other, every little detail was precious to the prince in a way he could not even begin to describe.
The travel was long, and it took them weeks to cross all the way to Fhirdiad, but of the journey the prince would remember three events more distinctly than anything else he had ever encountered.
The first was the only serious squirmish the party ran into. They were traveling in a ravine, and bandits surrounded them from all sides, raining fire arrows on them. The knight undid the shield in his back in one fluid movement and with his other hand reached for the princess, holsting her unto his horse and protecting her from the deadly rain. The prince stepped off his horse and fought his way through the bandits from the rear of the party, heart pounding in his chest in a single prayer of safety for his precious sister, but as he finally emerged from the human wave, he found her unscathed, her dress torn and an axe casually resting against her shoulder. Behind her, the knight rested against a partially charred cart, face pale and strained, an arrow shaft sticking out of his chest. It felt like the ground was shaking and breaking under the winter sunrise prince's feet as he tried to rush to the knight's side. He was met by a slightly unfocused blue gaze, but he had arrived just in time and made quick work of the wound, for the prince was skilled in all things, and also in white magic. He guided the knight through labored breathing and pulled the arrow out in one strong, albeit painful, movement, and applied his hands directly over the wound, magic flowing from his body directly into the knight's, connecting them together in a delicate flow. The prince tried not to think about his own magic thrumming in the knight's veins, rushing through his whole body and into his heart, filling his lungs with air and clearing the fog from his eyes. He stayed there, straddling the knight, his hands on the knight's bared chest, their faces close together, just a breath apart, gazes locked together until the princess hummed behind him and gently kicked at his foot, reminding her brother that they were in the middle of a distraught, disorganized party, many members of which were starting to stare openly. The winter sunrise prince could not sleep that night. He told himself his pounding heart was caused by the violent attack, but his fingers still felt the smooth skin of the knight.
The second was an ordinary night around a campfire. They had had dozens such nights, and dozens still ahead, but on this particular one, the prince and the knight shared the guard duty alone. The knight had shed his leather armor, wearing only a shirt and tight pants. The fire light reflected on his skin and eyes, washing him in a warm, orange glow, and the prince could not tear his eyes from him as the knight played with his braid, and slowly, while looking back at the prince, undid it, his fingers carding through the ink hair, slowly, knot by knot, with such purpose and intensity that the prince's heart skipped a few beats when the knight undid the last of it and a his hair flowed, unbound, cascading on his shoulders, chest and back. Since that night around the campfire, the prince had dreams of dipping his hands into a river of ink, of dipping his lips and losing himself.
The third and last one was by the end of the journey, as they approached Fhirdiad. None too soon, as the weather up north was much harsher and the princess not accustomed to such temperatures. The prince worried that they would need to sleep outside for much longer, enduring near freezing weather. On this day the sun shined clear and no wind blew, and the party found respite in the gentle rays. They stopped early to let the members rest and warm up in the sun. The knight came to the prince for his daily report, and lingered. The prince, curious, turned to him with the intention to ask what was on his mind, but the knight blushed and looked at his feet in a most uncharacteristic shyness. The prince did not ask, but followed as the knight led him away from camp and into the nearby forest. He obviously knew his way around these parts, and led them on a deer trail towards the sounds of babbling water, until they met a steaming river. The prince had never seen anything akin to this marvel of nature. The air was brisk, even with the gentle sunshine, but this river steamed like a cup of hot tea. He was still staring at the volutes of steam rising in the air when the knight called his name, and the prince turned, and was met with a most unexpected sight. The knight had shed all his clothes, shield, weapon, leather armor, shirt, pants and any small clothes, to stand stark naked, hair free and unbound, bathed in sunlight in all his glory, the blush on his cheeks from the camp only stronger and a small smile tugging at his lips as the prince gaped openly. He turned, and walked into the steaming water. The prince could do nothing but follow, left with a pain at the pit of his stomach that felt remarkably like hunger.
The party was met at the entrance of the city by a welcoming committee led by prince Dimitri himself. Tall and quite broad of shoulders for his age, the gallant prince welcomed his would-be-betrothed and insisted on walking by her side. Everything in him spoke of the best upbringing and most careful studies, from his gestures to his speech to the expressions on his face, but his eyes reflected only duty with no awe upon discovering the princess. The winter sunrise prince felt the worry gnaw its way back into his gut. How could a man behold his sister's beauty with such cold indifference, and yet claim to make her happy? His little sister deserved much better than a marriage of convenience.
The winter sunrise prince's anguish grew only stronger as they met the king and queen, and especially their advisor. For there behind the throne stood a woman with a twisting smile, eyes swirling with shadows as she looked down on them all. As the princess stepped up, her hand on prince's Dimitri's arm, the advisor licked her lips like a hungry hound, her dark gaze fixed on the fresh, budding girl. The knight had a slight frown when his eyes would pass over the advisor, and the winter sunrise prince did not miss it after their long travel together. The knight did not trust the advisor, not did he approve of her, and therefore she had to be considered with great caution.
The winter sunrise prince tried to repress his worries as he washed himself and prepared for their first formal dinner in this foreign country. He had first impressions carefully sorted and stored, but for now, he needed to give them all time to show their true colors. He only needed to keep a careful eye on his sister during this trying time, and make sure no ill befell her.
As a terrible twist of fate would have it, he needed to watch out for himself, for the advisor did not take kindly to his meddling. Or rather, she had planned for the protective prince and heir to the throne to impose himself on the party and come into the foreign land with his dear sister, vulnerable and exposed. She smirked to herself and chuckled as she put together the last bits of her plan to seize power over their neighbor country. They said the weather was fair and clement, and the wine excellent over there. And soon she would taste it all herself, comfortably seated behind the throne, tugging on the princess's strings as needed.
The princess was dazzling, her hair arranged into a rose shaped knot piqued with diamonds to simulate dew, an emerald green sheath dress hugging her shape close. She stole all the gazes of the guests, and without doubt their hearts as well. Yet the knight did not look at her with anything else than brotherly pride, after their weeks spent together on the road. He did not miss the vacant eyes of the prince either, feigning interest and parading with the princess on his arm without meaning it. The knight was worried. He did not make sense for the emotional young prince to be so disconnected and unresponsive. He had yet to find his own brother or father in the crowd as well, and could not help but wonder why they would be absent on this most important night. Something was amiss.
Relying on a new found habit, the knight scanned the room to find the winter sunrise prince, his pink hair sticking out of the crowd, and felt his whole body freeze in place with horror as he found him with the advisor, the advisor offering him a small plate with insistence. The caterers had not even started on the drinks, much less the food. The scene slowed in front of the knight as he tried to reach the price in time, but his limbs felt like lead and the air heavy and sticky as honey, while the prince accepted the plate from the advisor, and albeit looking a bit distraught, brought a mushroom to his mouth.
The winter sunrise prince frowned. Then he coughed. He dropped the plate. His face reddened, and he coughed harder. The knight pushed through the heavy air in vain, trying to reach him. The prince fell to his knees, eyes filled with tears, and looked up at the smirking advisor. The princess screamed. None of the partygoers were moving, frozen in place. The knight pushed and pushed. The prince stopped coughing, his mouth opening and closing on nothing. His face turned to purple, his lips to blue. He fell on his back, his feet kicking and hands clawing at his throat. The knight still pushed, warm tears running down his cheeks. The princess screamed herself raw. No one else moved. Until no one moved anymore. The princess could not utter a sound, the prince was still, the advisor smiled, the knight stopped pushing.
They laid him out on a wooden table. The princess didn't care where they took him, she would not let go of her brother. She didn't speak a word. She didn't cry. She dug her fingers into his arm and refused to let go. They ushered her with the body into a quiet place.
The knight found them regardless. He felt sick to his stomach since the events, and could know no respite until he saw the prince for himself. And so here he was, standing into a small ground level room with a single wooden table, with the prince laid out on it in all his ethereal beauty, the disheveled princess nestled into his side, refusing to let his body grow cold.
The knight thought back to their first meeting, not so long ago, as he had knelt in front of this tall, muscular man in a velvet corset and thigh high laced boots, trying to remember the words of the proposal while he felt like melting ice in front of this surreal beauty. His mouth saying the rehearsed speech while his mind undid the lacing on the boots and caressed the velvet. He thought back to their journey together, to the prince cheerfully intruding at every occasion, and prying the knight open like an oyster. He had been so ashamed of the attraction he had felt, so scared the prince would find him out and cast him aside in disgust, until he had been hurt. What a shameful fight that had been. He had tried to protect the princess, but in the end one lucky arrow had found his lung and unseated him from his horse, and it was the princess who dragged him to safety and defended him until help arrived. The prince had not scolded him or shunned him like the failure he was, he had gently straddled him and healed him personally, his warm hands breathing life back into the knight's injured lung. He thought back to the nights around the campfire, the glances he caught from the prince that made him hope, made him believe that maybe, maybe the prince was not so clueless after all, maybe the knight's affections were not entirely unwanted. He thought back to his feeble attempt by the hot springs, how embarrassed he had felt, that he did not dare do more, that all the strength he could muster had gone into luring the prince away and trying to show himself, his full, true self. He was filled with so much regret now, that he did not do more, that he did not confess, that he did not ask if the prince maybe wanted to be touched and kissed the way he wanted to touch and kiss him.
But most of all, the knight was ashamed that he did not understand the scheme earlier, that he was unable to protect the prince. He was the shield of Faerghus, and yet he had failed both princes and let one fall into the evil clutches of a sorceress and the other…
The knight walked to the table, unable to even think the word. It could not be. The princess looked at him, and tears fell on her cheeks, and the knight could not say whose tears they were. She unfurled slowly, painfully, and stepped off the table on shaky legs, giving the knight some privacy. He wanted to thank her, but his knotted throat would not let out any word. He looked down at the prince, at the closed eyes, disarrayed pink hair, crumpled clothes, curled fingers and blue, blue, blue lips. The knight bowed his head and let their foreheads touch. The prince's was cold already. Not icy, not as much as the table under him, but notably colder than it should. There were so many things the knight wanted to say, and none of the time. All of it had ran out along the way, without them noticing. So he did the only thing he wanted to, the only thing he could think of, and kissed the prince, a light brush of the lips.
The residual magic from that day where an arrow had pierced his lung, magic that was not his to keep, and had stayed quiet and nestled into the lung, lit at the call and grew, rushing from one lung into another and starting a current that could not be stopped. The white light grew and grew until it shined as bright as the sun, and the warmth traveled to the prince, filling him until he could hold no more and the knight was pushed away by strong arms. The prince coughed the cursed mushroom out, and breathed in sharply, filling his lungs with sweet air. The princess cried out and rushed back to her brother's side, who pushed on his hands and knees and tried to catch his breath after a too long pause. The knight stood, dazed, looking at the breathing, living prince, eyes filled with tears that he could no longer explain.
"You… You saved me?"
Two pairs of pink eyes fixed on the knight.
"I… I I did? I don't know, I just?"
A violent blush took over his cheeks as he remembered how exactly he had performed that miracle. How could he ever explain that out loud?
"Brother, he kissed you and breathed magic back into you!"
The knight felt like he was about to dissolve out of embarrassment, and the prince's face turning beet red did not help.
"You kissed me..?"
"I… I'm sorry I couldn't ask before and I-"
The prince came to sit on the edge of the table, limbs still shaking too much to stand.
"You wanted to kiss me?"
The knight's heart was beating a thousand miles an hour. His throat felt too tight for words and he simply nodded. The prince was still very red, but his eyes sparkled and he opened his arms in a welcoming gesture.
"I've wanted that too."
The knight rushed in the embrace and the prince hungrily captured him in the strong circlet of his arms and legs, his muscular thighs pressing into the knight's sides, and they kissed.
A true, proper kiss this time, their lips meeting softly, tasting each other carefully until they melted into it, the knight nibbling gently at the prince's lip, the prince's hand sliding down the knight's back, the knight's hand gripping a booted thigh, the prince's mouth opening under the knight's gentle assault with a soft moan.
The princess coughed.
The knight stepped back and nearly fell over, face red with embarrassment. How could he forget the princess? He really was the worst shield of Faerghus ever.
"Before you two can resume your activities, I believe there is one last matter that needs our attention."
The advisor was savoring her victory with a glass of her favorite beverage. Prince Dimitri laid on a loveseat, taking a small nap after his… donation. What power he held, what delicious taste! She could never find anything half as good, she thought, licking her lips and swirling the red liquid in her glass, lest it would clot. No such waste permitted. Her door exploded in and her glass was ripped from her hand, which would have warranted a death penalty for whoever the culprit was. The man who entered, however, had already been killed once.
Ah, nothing like killing your foes twice in a row, she thought, gathering a deadly spell with delight. This time she would burn him to a crisp and there would be nothing left to come back to life. She launched the dark bolt just as the knight stepped out of the prince's shadow and jutted down the enormous bone shield he carried around. She looked with horror, helpless, as the perfect, unstoppable bolt ricocheted off it and came back to her like a faithful dog.
With the witch gone, her weave of hexes broke and the royal family regained control of their bodies and minds. There was much to do, as the whole kingdom had been thrown in disarray, everywhere injustice and cruelty to correct after the advisor's despicable rule. Not least of all, there was the matter of the neighbor prince and princess, who had been greatly wounded by the advisor's conduct and would need reparation. The royal family arranged for diplomatic talks in order to find a peaceful resolution, hoping that the siblings would agree to withhold any plan of war after the attempt on their lives. Hopefully, they had no such ill intention, but the princess proved to be a skilled negotiator and had peculiar demands.
"First of all, I refuse the proposal and will never hear of it again. Everyone will understand that after what transpired, I shall never feel safe here."
Her request was granted without any argument.
"Second, we demand an escort all the way back to my family for my brother and mine's retinue. Not one of our citizens shall be hurt more because of this affair."
Once again, her request was deemed more than reasonable and agreed to on the spot.
"And finally, we demand that you give us the knight."
This last request was met with shock and disbelief. The father of the knight, who had recently regained his place as a trusted friend of the king was the first to react.
"My son is not an object to be given as reparation! He is the shield of Faerghus, and his place is by the prince's side."
The princess smiled sweetly.
"Precisely my point, although I don't believe we are speaking of the same prince. He is a terrible shield, quite honestly, and shall not be missed terribly by prince Dimitri. We will leave the actual shield to you, of course, we shall not rob you of such a precious artifact. However, we see now that an alliance between our countries is quite needed, and since my brother cannot leave his station and I can no longer stay here, the knight shall be our link. I understand that he is quite close to the royal family, enough to be considered as extended kin. He shall be our bride."
The council gasped as one in more shock. The knight's father sputtered.
"You want my son to marry you?"
The princess chuckled.
"Oh, not me, no. My brother."
The knight's father tried to argue, but the princess would not accept anything else and the king and queen finally agreed to her request, upon the condition that the knight himself was willing.
The knight had not seen to the negotiations, choosing to stay by the winter sunrise prince's side instead as the prince rested in the sunny winter gardens. When an envoy came with the official proposal, bearing the seal of the royal family, the knight's heart thundered in his chest and he felt heat gather in his cheeks.
"Did you know of this?"
He asked the prince. The prince looked quite as dismayed as he did himself, his face turning crimson and lovely pink eyes wide.
"I did not, I swear."
The knight frowned.
"Would this be… Agreeable to you?"
The prince's blush deepened, and he reached for the knight's hands. The knight reached back and their fingers intertwined. Their gazes locked, ice blue and pastel pink under the afternoon's golden rays.
"This arrangement would make me happier than I ever thought I could be."
The betrothal of the winter sunrise prince and the man who was no longer the shield of Faerghus was celebrated that very night with a simple ceremony before they left to go home. The knight gave the shield back to his father, kissed his little brother goodbye, and was swept away from them both by the winter sunrise prince, carried out in his broad arms with a rare smile on his face.
Such is the tale of the knight and the winter sunrise prince, and they lived happily ever after.