Chapter Text
As if his feet had become his wings, Taehyung sprinted through the dark, dense forest like his life depended on it, which was technically true. He had no moment to spare for rest even though his back was begging for it and desperately telling him that his efforts were vain. He tried not to listen. He knew where to go. He just needed to get to the other side of this forest, and then everything would become much smoother.
Taehyung urged his feet to run faster, not caring if his body was slowly growing numb because he couldn't die anyway; he wasn't sure if he felt fortunate about the not dying part.
He tripped on gnarly roots, got nicked with rouge branches and thorns, slipped over mud and scared half of the animal population in that forest. Every time his brain cried out for a second to catch his breath, he warned himself that every second he was motionless, the guards would get closer and closer. The rational part of him knew that he had put enough distance between him and his pursuers but he could not let go of the anxiety, could not stop himself from thinking that he would get dragged back to the castle ground again and...
Hot tears stung his eyes and his wounds burned with equal intensity. No, he could not dwell on what had happened. He knew how to fix his woes, and he was advancing towards it. If he stopped to drown in self-pity, he would be stuck in that forest for at least four more days and that would give the guards plenty of time to find him.
His head spun with exhaustion and agony, both physically and mentally. He wanted to collapse on the fallen leaves and hope the forest nymphs would conceal him. He wanted to leap into a creek and hope the gentle waters would wash his crime away. He wanted to run into a tree and hope he would be out long enough for people to forget him; then he could build a new identity and mesh into the land again.
But he saw light, moonlight to be exact, peeking from a little distance from between the trees. He was close. He couldn't slow his pace even if he wanted to because he knew his limbs would give up the moment he paused. He hasn't run since he was just a Lightling, before he had grown his wings, and that was centuries ago; he had always been reliant on his wings like everyone else.
As he drew nearer to the light, his vision began to glaze over. He blinked furiously and shook his head to chase away the blurriness. More tears streamed down his face as he was just a minute away from the light and-
Finally he burst out. As soon as his feet touched the solidness of the road, his body exploded with newly profound adrenaline and he shot along the length of the road. Suddenly, he felt invincible, as if he could do anything, but the feeling didn't last because he got reminded that it was the exact emotion that had gotten him into greed. No, he couldn't indulge that feeling a second time.
After what felt like another hour, Taehyung started to see what seemed like houses. He could not make out their exact details but they looked like cottages spread over a vast expanse of land.
"I know the path, I know the path," he chanted inside his head as he wove through the streets, trying to be as quiet as possible because who knew what lived in those houses?
Taehyung came to a stumbling halt in front of a cottage which had a massive willow tree towering over it, its branches and leaves kissing the roof and draping over the windows like curtains. Yes, it was just like in the book.
He peered at the moon and concluded that it was not that late at night yet, so he took a few contemplating steps before knocking on the door. He counted till twenty before knocking again, this time with heavier strokes.
...eighteen...nineteen...twenty
He knocked again for a longer period of time before quickly scanning the neighbourhood to see if someone else had woken up. Thankfully, all the houses were dark and the only source of sound was his knocking; if there was someone spying on him, they must be the spawn of Hermes.
Taehyung started to feel the exhaustion weigh him down and the agonising burn from his wounds began to cut through the numbness and pierce his body. He winced at the pain and doubled over before crashing onto his knees. His nails scratched the ground as he gasped to drink the air. He blinked furiously to get rid of the black spots that were starting to overpower his vision and pinched his arm to keep himself awake.
"Who are you?"
Startled, Taehyung tumbled backwards and landed painfully on the pavement. He hoisted himself on his elbows and fixed his eyes on the slightly ajar door of the cottage. He tried to make out something but he was only welcomed by pitch blackness.
"Do you not speak?"
Taehyung felt like the voice was slowly engraving itself in his mind, its cold icicles embedding themselves into his memory and the sharp edges opening fresh wounds.
"I- I'm Taehyung," he managed to answer.
"Why do you knock at my door at this hour, Taehyung? You seem to be a stranger," the voice threatened to close the door on his face.
"Please," Taehyung pleaded quietly. "I need help. Please just let me in and I will explain."
The voice contemplated before answering, "Stand up."
After a few moments of staggering, Taehyung burdened his feet with his entire weight. The door creaked open and Taehyung held his breath, a part of his brain anticipating a monster. But what greeted him was beyond Taehyung's imagination.
No, surely he had seen more fascinating creatures in the centuries that he had lived but for some reason, he found himself gawking at the man in front of him. Taehyung guessed that his awe was generated from the suppressed prejudice he had against the Dark ones.
Under the moonlight, the man's plump, cherry lips glistened and his brown orbs, devoid of warmth, swirled with a thousand unspoken questions. He had broad shoulders and, what Taehyung could make out from the sheer fabric of the cotton night shirt he was wearing, a tempting waist. But what really caught Taehyung's attention was the pair of massive dark wings, with feathers shining like the tips of a million arrows, that sprouted from his back.
"You dress like a Light one," the man murmured as his eyes swept over Taehyung.
"I am," Taehyung answered a little hesitantly, hoping the Dark one held no prejudice against his kind; it made him a hypocrite for sure.
"You are wounded. And unarmed," the Dark one stated his observation.
"I am," Taehyung responded but this time his voice broke.
"Very well." A moment of silence. "Come inside."
Taehyung hesitated for a moment, debating about the possibility of a trap. But honestly, did he have anywhere else to go?
"We do not have all night, Taehyung."
Taehyung surged forward before the Dark one could rethink his hospitality. He felt a little safe when the lights inside the house flickered to life by the flick of the Dark one's wrist. The interior was warm with wooden furniture and rugs and curtains in earthen tones. The place had a distinct smell- a playful mixture of fruity and flowery; that too felt reassuring because from the contents of the book he read, it was believed that a Dark one's abode was more or less the mirror image of a dungeon.
Taehyung felt guilty as his mud-caked feet scraped against the clean floor and left patches of dirt and unrecognisable things that had adhered to Taehyung's feet. Suddenly, he felt self conscious because he was most definitely oozing with some unbearable stench and his face must have been grimy and unpleasant to look at. His clothes were tattered and most importantly, he was drenched in blood (and maybe sweat and tears too).
As he followed the Dark one into what he comprehended to be the kitchen area, Taehyung could not help but stare at his wings. They were at least two times bigger than the wings of Light ones and the feathers were longer and looked sturdier. It would be an understatement to say that those were the most beautiful wings Taehyung had laid eyes on. He had to stomp on his urge to reach out and brush his fingers against those dark feathers.
"Sit," the Dark one ordered softly, gesturing towards a chair.
When the wings moved out of Taehyung's field of vision, he found his eyes widened in astonishment. The chair was by far the most normal object in the room. The chair was tucked into a massive table shaped like a maple leaf where numerous, almost countless, mason jars, bottles, pots, knives, pieces of paper with scribbles and sketches, leaves and herbs and strange looking flowers were just scattered about in a dizzying manner. On the walls, there were rows upong rows of shelves containing even more containers but Taehyung could not see what was inside them due to their opaque sides. In between the containers were plants growing haphazardly; they all looked healthy but they definitely needed a trim. On one side of the room was, to Taehyung's relief, a second normal, or rather familiar, object- a stove.
Despite being overwhelmed with the strangeness of the place, Taehyung decided to take a seat and push the chair a little further away from the table.
"None of them are poisonous," the man said with his back against Taehyung. He was looking for something in the maze of containers against the wall.
"Oh." Taehyung sighed in relief.
"I keep my poison elsewhere." There goes his relief.
"Do you mind undressing yourself?"
"Huh?" Taehyung flushed at the question.
The Dark one turned around, pinning him with a stony gaze.
"How else am I going to treat your wounds?"
"Yes, of course- um, let me-" Taehyung stumbled on his words as he discarded the bloody rags off his body, only leaving his underwear on for obvious reasons.
Taehyung felt unease prick every inch of his skin as the man's scrutinising eyes swept over his naked, horribly beaten up body.
"Don't run away," the man murmured before sailing out of the kitchen. Taehyung craned his neck to see him but he had already disappeared.
Thankfully, the wait was not long as Seokjin entered the kitchen not a minute later with a bundle of clothes which he dumped on the table. He snapped his fingers and a portion of the table was cleared as the jars and bottles and whatnots pushed themselves to gather on one side of the table. Next, the Dark one made a circular motion with his index finger in the air and wads of bandage and sealed pots the size of apples flew from the shelves and cabinets above the stove, and arranged themselves on the table in front of Taehyung.
The Light one was astounded to say the least. One might think that magic was a regular occurrence in Taehyung's life but in reality, the only magic the Light ones possessed were their wings. It was an unspoken truth that magic was the most difficult element to master. Sure, he had seen other beings having control over one specific earthly element, but magic? No, it took millenias of diligence and endless persistence to master something so unrestrained and unpredictable as magic.
As the man began to open the containers, Taehyung asked, "Um, can't you apply them with magic?"
"I can," the man replied coldly. "But I won't."
Taehyung dared not to ask further as he watched the man get into work.
"What's your name?" Taehyung asked as he watched the Dark one take a piece of rag and run it under the sink before adding a few drops of unknown liquid on it.
"Seokjin." So he was at the right house after all.
Seokjin stood in front of Taehyung for a while, fixing him with a warning gaze as if to say "Don't make this difficult for me" before bending down to clean Taehyung with the wet cloth. Every expanse of skin the cloth touched, every bit of dirt and germ was wiped off. Seokjin had to use four different rags because Taehyung was just so caked with filth.
Taehyung winced but tried not to squirm too much. He wanted to cry out when Seokjin dabbed over his wounds but he bit down on his tongue. He waited for the question to arrive once Seokjin began to clean his back but the kitchen was absolutely silent except Taehyung's occasional whimpers.
Taehyung felt like explaining. He just couldn't hold himself back so the words began tumbling out like a gushing wound. When he was done, his eyes were wet and his lips were quivering because Seokjin was the first person to know about the pain he had gone through, the absolute heartbreak of losing his wings. He didn't tell why he was sentenced to such a punishment; actually, he didn't even mention that it was a punishment to begin with.
But the man remained wordless, didn't even show the faintest emotion at his tragedy. It should have made him angry but Taehyung was afraid instead. What if Seokjin refused to help him?
"Ah!" Taehyung cried out when he felt something pulling his torn skin together and sewing them up very, very slowly.
"Three nights."
A shiver trickled down Taehyung's spine at those whispered words.
"They will take three nights to heal," Seokjin said as he threw the rags into the sink and clapped his hands, the water gushing out immediately and some invisible force beginning to clean them.
"Oh," Taehyung bit on his tongue before saying, "I don't have anywhere to go."
Seokjin's eyes were as solid and dark as obsidian. His expression was unmoved as he answered, "Yoongi provides a home for wanderers. I will let him know about you tomorrow."
"But I need your help!" Taehyung protested, squirming in his seat to get the words out of his throat.
"I will let you stay in my abode for one night, Taehyung. When dawn breaks, I will judge if you are worth my "help"," Seokjin said, every word frosted and sharpened with a knife.
Taehyung tried to swallow as he nodded. He was not expecting the Dark one to be so selfish.
Are you sure he is the one who is selfish?
"Go upstairs. There is only one bedroom. Change into these clothes. I would advise you not to shower unless you can change the bandages on your own. The antidote I used cleaned off the dirt anyways. And it's scented if you haven't noticed."
Yes, Taehyung did notice the fragrance of berries.
"We will, um, sleep together?"
"Go upstairs," Seokjin repeated. It was an order.
And Taehyung was forced to oblige. He couldn't afford being kicked out in the middle of the night. He was fatigued to the point that all he could think of was a warm place to slumber, so he accepted the clothes from Seokjin and stumbled outside the kitchen.
The Dark one had definitely muttered an incantation or two on him because the searing pain was slowly fading into the bearable throb and his head felt heavier by the moment. He had to hold onto the railings for dear life as he climbed the stairs. Once he reached the second floor, he felt like he had climbed Everest, or whatever those puny humans called it. He dragged his feet past the only opened door on the landing and his foggy eyesight could only register a jug of what looked like water and a mug next to it. Taehyung trudged towards it, hitting his foot somewhere, and managed to pour some water with his trembling hands.
It was almost comical. Just as soon as Taehyung had finished draining the entire jug, he felt his body just give up. The black spots tap dancing in front of his eyes began to enlarge like ink blotches.
The last thing he remembered was hitting the wooden floor.