Chapter Text
Jaemin dreamed of emerald eyes gazing at him curiously. He was in a room filled with books and the boy studied him like a specimen, waiting to be unraveled in front of him.
The boy talked to him in words that he did not understand, but somehow, his dream self was able to respond with ease. The words came to him so naturally, but Jaemin did not know what it meant.
He and the emerald-eyed boy continued their conversation, engrossed in their little world. It was always the same boy in his dream; hair shining bright blonde under the ray of sunlight, bright emerald eyes, and a smile so fond and so familiar. Jaemin never knew the boy’s name; he could never decipher what his dream self had said to really find out. They go on and on until his dream turned pitch black, making him fall back into consciousness.
Jaemin woke up feeling like the wind had been knocked out of his lungs. He sat up clenching his nightdress and feeling the rapid pace of his chest going back and forth. Droplets of tears and sweat stream down to his chin, and his heart is still tight from the visions. His palms are sweaty, his skin alabaster instead of the rich honey color he had in his dream.
Dreams of an exiled prince have haunted him since the age of eight, and his dreams of the blonde-haired boy have only happened recently.
When he first had them, he ran to his mother late at night, crying against her chest and telling her about the nightmare that felt so real. The dream he had that night was a boy who fell down a cliff, face deformed from the impact on the floor. His dream self stood there in horror but then ran in fear for his life. His mother, the angel that she was, consoled him that night with her sweet voice, leading him back to his room and staying with him to lull him back to sleep.
That night, the song left his lips, like prayer, hoping it would ward away his dreams.
His mother became the priestess of the sea goddess when he was ten and had to live in the temple where she could only meet her child but not her husband. It was like she had commanded the crashing waves of the sea to sing along with him, comforting his stricken soul.
He was Na Jaemin, Prince of Etheria, land loved by the Sea Goddess. This was his reality. There was no lover for him to mourn for. He dreaded the fate that was tied to his dreams, for which priests had warned his parents. As long as he did not meet the man who was destined to be his reckoning, his future would not end in suffering.
Sleep would no longer come to him, so instead, he thought of what was to come when the dark would transition into the sunrise.
He was going to meet the youngest prince of Drogon’s Isle, the land blessed by dragons. They were going to study together for years until the Prince was ready to fulfill his long-awaited destiny as the Dragon Prince, the one who would defeat the evil conqueror that threatened the five nations.
Jaemin wondered what the Dragon Prince would be like, what kind of man would enter the throne room. Would it be an intimidating man with a gruff face and muscled physique? Would it be a man who was lean and charismatic that exuded the aura of a warrior?
Jaemin let his mind drift as he rested on his bed. In the morning, his questions would be answered, and then, new questions would arise like clockwork.
👑
The Dragon Prince was not what Jaemin had expected. They were the same age, but the foreign prince was more petite and slender compared to Jaemin and the other boys in their palace. However, he moved with such grace and poise with each step. Even if he did not have the stature of a typical warrior, he strutted down the red walkway with such command of the room. His hair was the color of their sandy brown shore with fringes matted on his forehead in different directions. He wore a tunic made of red silk and gold thread that was famously worn by the nobility of his land. He smiled at Jaemin and the Emperor, one knee on the floor, and bowed in greeting.
“I am Prince Renjun from the House of Emperor Huang, the ruler of Drogon’s Isle. We bring you gifts of gold and exotic fruit that only grows on our soil as a token of our gratitude for allowing me to learn from your cavalry, revered Emperor Na,” Renjun said.
Behind him, gold pieces of different forms and a crate of foreign fruit were carried by the men who escorted Renjun from his kingdom. Jaemin’s father ordered their servants to carry the gold to the treasury and have the fruit be served for dinner. Jeongguk, a young orphan boy who was not only a sparring trainer but a servant who worked closely with Jaemin’s father, was asked to escort Renjun to his quarters.
Once most of the servants dispersed from the throne room, Emperor Na turned to Jaemin and asked, “What do you think about the Dragon Prince?”
“He wasn’t what I expected,” Jaemin said.
“The boy is destined to be the greatest warrior of all four kingdoms. He might not look like it now but befriending him will do our country good, my son,” his father said.
“As you wish, Father,” Jaemin replied. It was an empty “yes,” but nonetheless, he would make some effort to get to know their guest, even if it was merely on the surface level.
👑
It was the first day Prince Renjun was joining them for sparring practice. The field they practiced in was just outside the palace on an expanse of land that was almost barren but had some patches of greens scattered. They trained by age group with the men who were fifteen and older undergoing more intense training than the young.
Jeongguk was in-charge of training the young, being the best among the older soldiers. He introduced the new student to the crowd of young boys that were between the ages of twelve and fourteen. Among them was Jaemin, standing in the front line and waiting for the foreign prince to say something.
“If the strongest would like a sparring battle with me, I would like to warm up right now, yes,” Renjun said.
He exuded such garish confidence, leaving no hesitation, no ounce of timidness in his tone. No one stepped forward. In the back of Jaemin’s mind, he knew that everyone expected him to accept it. He was not the fighter among their collective, but he was decent enough to probably land a blow. Jaemin waited, hoping anyone would want to take their chance and boast their skill in front of Jeongguk and the prince. He also expected Jeongguk to intervene and tell the young prince to simply stand in line, but he seemed to be expecting any of his pupils to take the bait. His deep brown orbs were set on Jaemin now, with a face that said be a man and show him what I’ve been teaching you.
Biting his lip and clenching his fist to his sides, Jaemin took a step forward and accepted the Dragon Prince’s challenge.
From Renjun’s proud grin and aplomb stance, Jaemin knew he wasn’t going to make it out of the duel with his dignity intact.
Jeongguk distributed their wooden swords and told the rest of the boys to stay in an area where they wouldn’t hinder both Renjun and Jaemin. The two princes stood under the heat of the sun, waiting for Jeongguk to commence their duel. Renjun held his wooden sword with one hand, pointing the tip toward Jaemin as if he was ready to pierce his opponent in battle. Jaemin, on the other hand, took the usual stance, gripping the hilt with both hands and raising it on one side.
“Start.”
Renjun charged toward Jaemin, swinging his sword with great force that caught Jaemin off guard. Luckily, he didn’t manage to let go of his weapon and held steady as Renjun landed blow after blow. The loud clacking of the wood sent ripples to Jaemin’s arms, giving him no room to fight back. Renjun was relentless; he was a hurricane on the battlefield with no openings for his opponent. He was quick on his feet, dust clouding the lower parts of the body.
Even in combat, it was like he was dancing to the rhythm of an attack. His slender physique and petite frame did not allude to the enormous strength he had in him.
There were murmurs among the audience and loud gasps at the burst of strength Renjun would exhibit every now and then. Everyone was stunned at the prowess of the Dragon Prince who was obviously dominating the battlefield. How could this boy be such a magnificent fighter at the age of twelve?
Jaemin side-stepped to dodge the next strike, allowing him to swing his attack this time. But Renjun was faster, he ducked Jaemin’s sword and swiped his leg to collide against Jaemin’s limbs, hard enough to let him fall. Jaemin landed on the ground, the tip of Renjun’s sword pointed at his neck.
“I expected more from the Prince of Etheria,” Renjun said.
Jaemin’s face heated in embarrassment and chafe, shooting daggers at the smirk Renjun had on his face. How could he ever think of befriending such an arrogant individual?
Jeongguk proclaimed Renjun the winner and commenced his lesson afterward. During their whole session, Jaemin avoided Renjun, even his shadow, unable to swallow down his pride and accept his piteous defeat.
Lessons ended just as the sun was about to set. And as Jeongguk dismissed them and everyone scattered away to continue training or play somewhere, Jaemin quickly left, so he didn’t have to interact with Renjun. If his father heard of his actions, he would probably receive an earful from him. But right now, Jaemin wanted to be alone. He didn’t want some great and mighty hero to make contemptuous conversations with him and shove his glory in Jaemin’s face. Rather, he made his way to the palace’s study, where he would bury himself in a book to rid himself of the vexations from the afternoon’s encounter.
Jaemin, Renjun, and the Emperor would eat dinner together while the foster boys and Jeongguk would commune at a separate dining hall that was exclusively for servants. Jaemin didn’t dare to make eye contact with the foreign prince. He was still bitter, and the boy’s face, despite exuding pulchritude, was still hard to look at without making his head boil.
His father bombarded Renjun with questions about his kingdom, from the temples to its customs. Apparently, they did not speak the same tongue but Renjun had learned from the monks who raised him how to fluently speak their language without a trace of a foreign accent. For dessert, they ate what was left of the fruit Renjun gifted them upon his arrival. The first time Jaemin saw it sliced open in front of him, he was hesitant to take a piece. There were tiny seeds scattered on its purplish flesh and he wasn't sure if he had to pluck it all out before he could enjoy it. He saw Renjun scoop a piece of the flesh with his spoon along with the seeds and ate and ate until the shell was bare. Jaemin followed suit and once he had a taste, he couldn't stop.
If only Renjun brought more of the fruit his kingdom had named "Dragon fruit," but Jaemin would not admit that to Renjun's face.
Jaemin ate the dragon fruit silently as he faded into the background while his father's attention was on his guest. There was so much excitement and gleam in his father's eyes as he listened to Renjun's tales and insight. He had never been that way around Jaemin, and perhaps he might have another reason to dislike Renjun. It was like his father was talking to the son he never had.
A charismatic prince who was fated to be one of the greatest warriors of their generation could never win against a prince who kept to himself and merely devoured books upon books if he did not have to practice for combat. The former will always outweigh the latter in a matter of popularity and magnetism. He felt like a pariah in his own home.
Once dinner had ended, Jaemin was the first to exit the dining room, leaving his father to resume being webbed by Huang Renjun.
👑
As sunrises and evenings followed, he tried to avoid Renjun as much as possible. He would mostly stay in the library when he didn’t have sparring practice, and when Renjun walked in at the time he was there, Jaemin would simply ignore his presence. They would eat together with a heavy air around, and despite his father's best efforts to get him to speak with familiarity to Renjun, Jaemin would only give him half-hearted, short responses.
Sometimes, he would catch a glimpse of Renjun who gave him a curious look, almost eager to approach Jaemin himself, but he wouldn't. It had gone on for several months, and Jaemin was both surprised and relieved that his father had not said a word to him about it. Perhaps the Emperor did not have to worry about Jaemin forming a friendly bond with Renjun as he was already being hospitable with the boy, ensuring the close alliance.
As Renjun continued to show his prowess as he sparred, even with the older soldiers, Jaemin would hear shared whispers about him between women. The older women would wish they could offer their daughters while the younger ones would hope that the Dragon Prince would turn their way. Renjun did not seem to be aware of women's affections nor was he influenced by the thirst other men had for them.
If he wasn't with a sword, Renjun would be with a large zither, which looked to be the size of his legs. He would play in an area of the palace where there was a clear view of the sea. Jaemin would hear the beautiful sound of its string being plucked, creating harmonies that echoed throughout the walls. Renjun would sing in his mother tongue, melodies reminiscent of summer’s day, echoing the walls and filling the ears of his scattered audience with warmth. It was magic, healing their souls with whatever bruised them that day.
During those times, Jaemin thought that perhaps Renjun was not so much of a brute with only a handsome face to ease his edges. He had a side to him that was also a siren, producing melodies that lull even the strongest of waves.
👑
Fear crept into Jaemin’s veins as he stood in the middle of the mountainous forest alone. His dream self walked aimlessly, searching for something. Jaemin assumed he was looking for the blonde-haired boy.
The sound of crickets and swaying branches of trees filled the air, making it all the more eerie.
“Achilles,” his dream self had said.
So that was the name of the blonde-haired boy.
“Achilles, where are you?”
“Patroclus-”
His dream self whipped his head back fast to see the blonde-haired boy, Achilles stand before him. It was him. He finally found him. There was a sense of relief in him that Jaemin had never experienced before in the real world.
‘I found you’
Jaemin woke up to the blurry image of sunlight only peeking in the sky as deep blue still enveloped the earth. His mind was still processing his dream, taking it all in, memories of his previous life ripped at the seams. Breathe, he told himself. He sang his mother’s tune to keep his heart steady.
It was still early, but he could no longer go back to sleep. So he decided to see the sunrise by the sea. He stripped off his nightdress and put on a white loose shirt and his brown trousers before leaving his room. The palace was still bare, with only servants who were fishers preparing for their morning catch. They greeted Jaemin as he passed, and he returned it with a smile before exiting the palace and heading straight to the shore.
The sea was still at its farthest with only remnants of its conquest the night before littering the sand. He saw their fishermen's boats already sailing to find their bundles of prey.
As he walked along the shore, he was met by a familiar figure approaching him, the boy’s nightdress drenched and clung to his skin. It was Renjun, his sandy brown hair sticking to his forehead, face softer under the early morning glow, and his eyes focused curiously on Jaemin. If Jaemin wasn’t so irritated at him, he would think about how pretty Renjun was. His cheeks turned a tad red from the sunlight, making Jaemin wish his looks weren’t so charming.
"Prince Jaemin, are you out here for a swim, too?" he asked.
Jaemin shook his head, no.
"I apologize for my arrogance the other day," Renjun said, "I should have been more courteous to the son of my host, and I truly want to be friends with you as our fathers had been."
He studied Renjun's expressions, wondering if the foreign prince would falter if his apology was in jest. Jaemin reluctantly accepted his apology with a small, forced smile. After that, they were met with silence. He walked past Renjun to continue his walk down the shoreline. The other prince trailed behind him, their footprints marked on the sand while the waves started catching up to where they walked as it ebbed and flowed.
Finally, Renjun spoke again, “Prince, do you hate me?”
“No,” Jaemin answered, plain and simple - the truth.
“Is it indifference?” Renjun asked.
“Yes,” Jaemin replied.
Renjun caught up to him, striding by his side, smelling of saltwater. “Are you going to visit your mother?” Renjun asked.
“No, I’m going to visit her tomorrow,” said Jaemin.
“What’s she like?” Jaemin gave Renjun a look as if he was done with his questions, but Renjun would not back down. The tension within him was still there, and Jaemin could not shake off the discomfort of talking with such familiarity.
“She’s like any other mother, a woman.” He did not expect his reply to gain such a boisterous cackle from the other prince. It was not his intent to amuse him.
“I did not imply that your mother was a man, Jaemin,” Renjun said.
“I did not imply that you implied my mother was a man,” said Jaemin. He was not one to back down in a game of wits. “I simply am not comfortable making friendly conversations with you, yet.”
Renjun seemed unfazed by his honesty, a playful smile curling on his lips. He was agile in his movements walking past Jaemin as he moved around on the sand, like he was dancing. The water moved to meet their toes as cool winds bathed them. Renjun hummed a tune Jaemin was unfamiliar with while they returned to the palace together.