“Siege!”

Hearing the cry, the start, he bounds up the side of the stone castle on his own. The main force is at the front gates, many rounding about to hit the back walls and other assassins scaled to the open windows of the tranquil royal home.

The city was quiet, not one carriage bundling down the dirt paths but they were. In fact, they were the opposing side. The enemies.

And here they were, sneaked past the borders and killed off soldiers to hit the prince. Not just a prince, the prince. In fact, he was so the worthy that he believed this entire siege was pointless, but what say did he have. He was just a lackey, unimportant to any story line and definitely not contributing to the main fight against the prince and his agonizingly accurate technician.

“Not doing that,” he mutters, going way out of line and towards a more quiet part of the castle. He hops over the stone hedge and lands softly on his feet, scanning his area. Nothing. Great, all the guards, the soldiers, Wyverns, Pegasus Riders, Heroes, Mages, Sages, Healers, Berserkers, Archers, and Cavalry were all rushed to the main battle front. Only he, a worthless thief, lingered around parts for hidden gold in drawers and small knickknacks he can sell once this is all over.

He wasn’t really on board with the whole ‘Let’s kill the prince and all his people’ plan.

Quietly, still on edge, he wandered around each shadow to get into rooms. Opening and closing drawers in vain, nothing surfacing. He found loads of clothes and other nonsense, nothing that would really help.

“Come on, someone’s gotta have at least a pearl or diamond laying around. I mean, that’s what royals do right?” he mutters to himself, searching a rather large room he came across. The door was normal, but the way it opened, so smoothly, made all the difference to him. Most definitely worth checking out.

Not anymore.

“It’s because we’ve got a bit more tact than that,” a voice behind him sticks a blade to his neck and so he gently raises his hands in surrender. “What’s a thief doing so far from the battle front? Don’t you have more important doors to hack than someplace like this?”

He scoffs,” You too. What are you doing so far away from the front lines?”

The other chuckles, pulling down the sword. How unlikely, so he takes this time to draw his own dagger and jump away, whipping around and wow what luck he seems to have today.

“The prince?” he nearly loses all his wit seeing that blued cape flutter behind the other. “But, you’re always at the front lines.” Gulp.

“Not today,” he laughs, rather amused with his company. “I was told to keep back, being the main target and all. But I’ve found myself an opponent.”

At that, he lunges forward and the thief had barely enough time to block. His dagger was knocked right out of his hands, hell, he wasn’t trained to go up against the prince. He was just a lackey for anyone’s sake! Stumbling back, the low thief with his black scarf, runs while pushing himself off the floor. Flying into another room and quickly slams his back against the door, locking it.

“My, you aren’t a fighter are you?” a sword, the sword contracted with the emblem stabs through the wood and the thief makes some nonsense noise while backing away. “What are they doing, recruiting flings like you?”

That insult should hurt, but determining the situation he wasn’t even going to try to talk back. Not at all. He squirmed to find an escape; no way was he going to fight. Cowardly? Yeah sure call him that, but all the thief wanted was maybe a shiny diamond for his mom and some rubies to sell. Nothing more, just some cash.

“Better come out, or I’m coming in,” the door gets a very loud crash on the other side and it makes the thief jittery with curses flying in his head and out his ears. All he heard was danger sirens blaring everywhere.

Taking fast steps, he opens a drawer and to his luck a Silver ring lay there. Snatching it without a thought, he jumps through the glass window as the door is knocked over. The prince runs with speed, such speed that not even he could escape and his scarf is caught with the princes grasp.

He chokes, his foot finding perch on a window frame below him as he struggles. The prince hisses through his teeth, “You’re not getting away!” That line he’s heard so many time.

Thank goodness he did not tie his scarf too tight or he would’ve been hanged right there as it slipped off his neck and he landed not so gracefully to the bushes below. Ouch, and they were rose bushes.

“Ow ow ow!” the thief groans, bursting out of the bush hurt and everything. He looks back up and there was the prince, smiling widely at that.

“You’re a pretty bad fighter,” he muses, holding his scarf still and halfway out the window, “Shall I chase you?”

“No, you stay!” the thief bursts in anger, stomping his foot with cuts and tears everywhere on his cloth.

With a huff, the thief runs away way. And the prince only sighs after him, “What a thief,” a smile graces his lips as he looks at the scarf. A little tag on the bottom inked red with a sharp quill.

[Gyu!]

*

It must be years later, after struggling with said encounter with the thief he manages to persuade his Pegasus Rider—all-time best friend and ever loyal person he will only ever trust with his life, Dongwoo, to let him join battle again. The male was a beast in battle, the leading commander for air raids.

To say the least, he was someone on a freaking flying horse and can throw a lance from far off and hit you dead on.

Their technician, whom had died of age, left their armies up to Woohyun, the prince. Of course, he only knew book tactics and on field was entirely different. That’s why he has Dongwoo and Sungjong to help. Sungjong is his hidden Archer.

“We should flank the fort by the left,” Sungjong moves their blue piece across the map on the table westward, the fort before the city. “We can capture this and diminish their hopes to flee into the kingdom. After that, we can attack the castle and end this nasty war.” He was very intent with winning.

Dongwoo, however, was a bit more cautious, “It’s too frontal, Sungjong,” he gives his word. “We should split into two groups. Take the fort and the other blend into the city. When they raise the gates to fortify the castle, we can attack from within.”

“But how will we have the weaponry?” Woohyun bites his thumb, chewing the skin. His brows knit together in worry, “What if they find out? How will we get out?”

“I can raid the fort,” Dongwoo smiles, reassuring the Prince. “We’ll be airborne while going to the castle and drop down supplies. You then can all equip at meeting place where they wouldn’t suspect and attack?”

“Then we’ll meet here,” Sungjong points to the part of the castle near the bridge, but away from watch view. "You guys can be unseen by the first light, when they switch guards,” he says while tracing a path Woohyun does not understand how it works. He’s only a frontal assault, the icon Prince. He knows his blade better than the plan.

“Deal?” Dongwoo looks to him.

“It seems you guys know your stuff,” Woohyun shrugs, “Inform the troops. We march at sundown.”

“Yes sir!”

He doesn’t feel too good about this.

*

Nothing goes wrong, in fact, everything goes to plan. It’s so smooth that Woohyun begins to think that the opposing side actually wants to lose. No one hints or even suspects them. It’s so weird. They got the weaponry without qualms and started the siege like any other day.

It’s so to the plan, it’s wrong. Wasn’t the plan supposed to be followed? Why didn’t it feel right?

Woohyun’s apparitions grow the more he ventures deeper into the castle alongside Sungjong. Dongwoo is holding outside, and it didn’t seem too bad. They split, Woohyun taking one side and Sungjong the other as they entered into the grand hall.

But the hall was an illusion and soon Sungjong didn’t see Woohyun, neither did the prince. And they were utterly lost.

Well there goes the plan.

It’s so bad it feels comforting to Woohyun in an odd way. Nothing can ever go perfectly, it’s just weird like that. So Woohyun draws his sword and prepares for a fight when darkness floods him and all his soldiers. He doesn’t hear them, he doesn’t see them but one other person.

He’s tall, with an even taller person beside him. Both were probably sages, but the taller one was dressed in much red as the other donned black.

“Hey it’s the prince,” the red one realizes and Woohyun can’t move from his stance, like a trophy.

“So it is,” the lofty magician has his pointy hat tilted on his eye, which he straightens back to his head, one hand lifted towards Woohyun in a misty fog. No one can miss Woohyun as the prince when he wears the darn blue cape around his shoulders and the ruby gem that holds it to his chest. “I’ll send him over.”

“You do that,” the taller nods. “I’ll help the one that smells like lemon. Send Yaho to that Pegasus rider.”

“Hoya,” the magician corrects, waving him off and he disappears in the shadows. “So you, prince, don’t worry. We’ll take care of everything.”

“Are you an ally?” he questions, because Woohyun sees no malice in those blank eyes. He sees bags from being tired and maybe a stifled yawn.

“No,” he answers, but also replies, “Though not an enemy either.”

That’s all he gets.

*

When he wakes, it’s warm. Sunglight pools onto his thighs from a nearby window and the sheets to the bed he’s lying in are comfortable linen woven together with wool fluffed into it. Not only that, but the pillow is just heavenly. Plus the body beside him.

Somebody.

“Wha—“ he looks down to the mop of blazed bronze hair and begins to heat up. He’s only wearing a shirt and who knows what under the sheets.

The person he’s been sleeping with (not like that) stirs a little, making little sounds before settling back with a long breath and light snores as he falls back asleep.

But he can recall that face. No way can he forget the night he met a measly thief in the night, and the fact he ran out your bedroom with your stuff.

There’s a book nearby. A tattered and nearly busted over tome. The yellow infringes to the pages and cover only warns Woohyun of thunder magic. It seems over used. The window tightly shut and the cottage they are in smack with some trees in the front and far away Woohyun can see a glistening of a lake. Maybe river. The walls are covered with different photographs of cats and the kitchen nearby flooded with dirty dishes. He hears far off the resounding of laugher wave the wind. Not just one voice, but many. Dongwoo’s laughter was easy to spot, so Sungjong must be there too.

He forgets that for now, because there’s this guy beside him. Sleeping. They’ve been sleeping here. And judging by the smell it seems the others stay here too. There were only four other beds around him, a puddle of blankets and a pillow nearby on the floor to one of the beds.

Woohyun looks back to this one on the bed. The one who stole, the one who really looks peaceful asleep. He forgets war, he forgets he’s a prince. Parley, treaty, Kings; all that talk is out of his mind. A single thought runs his mind and he really wants to carry it out.

Go back to sleep.

A thin chain around the sleeping boy’s neck had looped a silver ring around his neck. It was definitely Woohyun’s. So in the end, he lays back down and whispers, “Gyu?” 

wat
the soundtrack of Fire Emblem from shadow dragon is so battle worthy and i got a whole bunch of feels for marth which I really wanted to make Gyu as marth but what happened there? 
my love for gaius happened, so gyu is gaius. yes. idk. 
Stop my nonsense