Prompt: “Rivals of the Assassin’s Keep.”

Pairing: Sehun/Tao

Words: ~1500

The dagger glints under the soft light of the moon as it soars through the air, meeting its target perfectly with a thud. There is little fight, little resistance, as instead a small, surprised grunt echoes down the cobblestone street as the figure collapses into the mess and excrement tossed from the upper floor windows of dwellings above. A small pool of blood escapes the corpse and Tao knows he has met his mark; hit the vein in the man’s neck that has ended his life.

One down, two to go.

Tao smirks as he plucks his weapon from cold skin, wiping the blood on his victim’s trousers before prowling further down the street. He can still hear their loud feet clacking against pavement as they stumble down alleyways in order to lose him. Tao doesn’t know why these men of lower nobility are targeted, but he doesn’t particularly care. Once, Tao had cared about the morality of it all, but now things were different. Now, he didn’t really have much of a choice, with the debt that his Master still needed him to pay for the training and the clothes and costumes that such a career warranted.

All that mattered now to Tao was the freedom he longed for, to be won with bloodied money from the various assassinations he was assigned by the Guild.

Tao is about to turn a corner when he feels a familiar presence behind him, and arches his back and flips himself over. Airborne for only a few seconds, his feet meet earth again and he growls as a tall figure runs before him. He catches up swiftly, eyes on the back of the familiar black coat that reaches the figure’s ankles, and the high boots that are already sodden with bloodied mud. The figure’s calm, stoic face exudes confidence as eyes meet his in challenge.

“This was supposed to be my contract,” Tao hisses.

Sehun grins viciously, his pace quickening. The next two targets are less than 100 metres down the road; their retreating figures crossing the city’s lone bridge that snakes across the pounding river. Tao stops abruptly and reaches behind his back for his bow and draws it, picking two arrows out of his holster and shooting rapidly, watching smugly as they whizz past Sehun’s head by mere inches. The assassin turns his head around to Tao and frowns as a pair of grunts sound and freshly dead bodies fall over the edge into the raging waters below.

Sehun stalks towards him as Tao turns, swinging his bow back over his shoulder. They walk in silence back to the Assassin’s Keep, Tao inwardly celebrating at the creased brows and lingering glower on Sehun’s face. Tao waves his goodbye to Sehun as he makes his way to the Master’s study with a swagger in his step, and Sehun storms towards the sparring room.

This mission did have a particularly large sum as his payment, and he’s sure Sehun is more than a little bit jealous.

--

Tao pockets the meager amount left to him after the Master has taxed his payment and stomps out of the room, the swagger in his step gone. Too long. It will take far too long for him to repay his dues to the Master and he’s sure that whatever freedom he longs for is going to be forever unattainable.

Tao doesn’t realise he’s in the sparring room until the stench of sweat fills his nostrils and he sees a lone figure sharpening knives in the far corner, shoulders hunched. Tao steps across to the punching bags to release his pent up frustration, biting his lip in anger until he tastes blood in his mouth. His arms thud against it over and over, his arms shaking as they colour in bruises. He feels eyes upon him as he stumbles, collapsing to the floor as his energy lapses. He tugs himself up and grumbles to himself, starting back up with a barrage of punches, half of which miss.

“Didn’t go well?” Sehun asks.

“It’s none of your business,” Tao retorts angrily.

Tao musters up enough energy to glare at Sehun, but the taller holds out up his hands in placation. He nudges Tao gently and leads him across to the bare ring at the centre of the room, until they stand across the way from each other. Sehun gestures for Tao to begin, and Tao complies, throwing a heavy-fisted punch towards his rival. Sehun quickly ducks under his arm and sweeps him out from under his feet.

They continue fighting for at least an hour, Tao throwing his heart into each movement as Sehun quickly dodges him with trained precision. Tao is swept up in the motion, in the rage, and Sehun lets him get a hit in every couple of punches. There are no knives, or bows and arrows, or other weapons to be used against each other, just bare fists on bare flesh. Sehun’s jaw is peppered with blue and green when Tao finally collapses to the ground, completely spent. Sehun lies next to him, arms resting beneath his head, eyes closed.

“Angry with how much is still left?” Sehun asks into the silence. Tao tilts his head to the side, staring at Sehun’s marked jawline. He should feel guilty about it, but he pushes the thought aside. He knows exactly what Sehun is asking.

“I’m going to be in debt for the rest of my life, why should I be angry about it? It’s just how it will always be…” Tao growls, though he does nothing to hide the bitterness in his tone.

Sehun’s eyes snap open and he turns to face Tao, their eyes meeting in a heated gaze. There was always something wild about Sehun, and now Tao sees it fully in his facial features. Tao notices the scar just under his chin from a certain mission, when Sehun had come back to the Keep with a limping mangled leg and a rough line cut through the skin of his neck. He should have died, but not a week later he was on his next mission, evidenced by five men with his jewel-marked daggers in their hearts, their bodies left dangling from ropes above the inn they frequented. The wildness from that night is still present in Sehun’s eyes. He was younger than him, but Sehun had always been the one the Master favoured, his adopted son trained from birth.

So much unlike Tao but somewhere deep within so strikingly similar.

“Sometimes I never feel like I’ll get out of this place,” Sehun mumbles, a heartbeat later. Tao raises an eyebrow in surprise, having never heard Sehun complain about his life in the Keep; as a member of the Guild that had taken him in when he sooner would have died on the streets as an orphan.

“I’ve been here since I was four year old, training to kill. I know it’s similar for you too, Tao. You’ve been here almost as long as I have.” Sehun’s words were true.

“Yeah, I don’t think we’ll get out of here,” Tao says quietly, picking himself up and crossing his legs. Sehun watches him, eyes calculating.

The pair sits in silence for the next few minutes, before Tao stands up and stalks over to the knife rack. He picks up a couple, juggles them in his hands, and walks across to the left wall of the room, littered with targets. He selects one from his hand and tosses it perfectly, hitting the bullseye in one fluid movement. Sehun walks behind him and claims the next target with an arrow.

“You know,” Sehun says, voice barely a whisper, “we could always take out the Master.”

There’s a glint in Sehun’s eye, and Tao sees the wildfire burning beneath his gaze. Tao’s eyes widen in surprise but he keeps the rest of his facial features calm and steady. He tosses another dagger, which slams into the other and knocks it out of the bullseye with a clatter. Tao scans the room, tossing a furtive glance to the door. Noticing no one else’s presence in the room, his eyes slide back to Sehun’s face.

“Are you serious?” he asks. Sehun nods, smirk gracing his lips.

“I wouldn’t be able to do it by myself,” Sehun elaborates, studying Tao’s face carefully. “I can’t take down the Master that easily. No one can. But if we worked together…” he pauses, mostly for dramatic effect.

“If we worked together, we could do it, and take all the gold for ourselves. Or, better still... become the next Kings of the Assassins in this city. Tao, my friend, think about it.”

Sehun winks at him, tossing his arrows back onto the weapons’ table. Tao smiles smugly. He would join Sehun if the taller had a solid plan. After that, well, he hadn’t exactly made any promises that he’d keep the peace. Let Sehun be King of the Assassins. But perhaps, he thinks, the freedom he sought was now within reach.