PART 1



Chanyeol awoke an indeterminate amount of time later to a giggle like the tinkling of bells.

Groggily, he blinked himself into reality, and looked around for the source of the sound. It took a moment, but the barest shift of the silk of his fine shirt against his skin made him glance down at his arm.

Standing lightly upon his wrist was what Chanyeol could only assume was an actual fairy.

On first glance, Chanyeol’s impression was that there was a tiny, gossamer-winged feminine figure alight upon his person. It took him a moment of rather stupidly staring to realize the femininity was an illusion and the little person was, in fact, male, but in his defense, the fairy did have very long, very pale bare legs, curved hips, and, well, all Chanyeol really saw at first was the blue-and-purple insect wings anyway.

“...Hello,” Chanyeol said, sleepy as anything but polite as ever.

“Hi!” the little creature chirped, his face lighting up in a smile that nearly glowed. Chanyeol blinked at him. “Are you a prince?”

How could something have a voice like a wind chime and still, somehow, sound masculine? More importantly, how had he known Chanyeol was a prince?

Might as well ask. “How did you know I was a prince?”

“Well,” the fairy said, “you are obviously on a Quest, and no knight would be so idiotic as to start taking off armor on their way into the Enchanted Forest. You could be a good-hearted woodsman or a baker’s son, I suppose, but I doubt one of those could afford armor embossed with gilded flames.” He flitted - flitted, like a hummingbird - over to Chanyeol’s chest and prodded him in the gilded flames in question.

Still groggy, Chanyeol frowned. “Hey now. My mother wanted me to get the whole thing gilded. This was a compromise.” It was customary to see Princes and Kings and the like in armor so gilded and jewel-encrusted that they shone like beacons on the battlefield - the few who actually fought their own battles, that is. His own armor was much more practical, while still paying homage to his family and status, and he thought it helped make him more accessible to the people. He actually was quite proud of his armor, and what he felt it said about him. (Not that anyone else had ever noticed.)

“Ah,” the fairy said, “your mother.” He raised his eyebrows. “You’re what...twenty-six? Twenty-seven?”

Chanyeol frowned. “I am twenty-three, for your information, and you are rude, sir.”

Startled, the fairy burst out laughing. “I like you,” he declared. “You’re cheeky. Not many humans will get cheeky with a fairy.” He landed on Chanyeol’s up-bent knee and sat down. “I’m Baekhyun. What’s your name, cheeky prince?”

“Chanyeol,” Chanyeol told him. “Why won’t humans get cheeky with fairies?”

“Because they’re afraid of getting cursed, obviously,” Baekhyun said. “As well they should be.”

Chanyeol, who, despite this conversation, was still rather sleepish, frowned and asked, “What do you mean, cursed?”

Baekhyun cocked an eyebrow. “You didn’t prepare very well for this adventure, did you?”

Heat rose to Chanyeol’s cheeks. “It was kind of a spur-of-the moment decision,” he mumbled. “So fairies curse people, and wake them from naps, and sass them apparently. Anything else I should know?”

“That entirely depends,” the fairy said. “What sort of Quest are you on?”

“Well. Um. Well, you see, I don’t...exactly...have one.” Baekhyun gave him an incredulous look, so Chanyeol told him all about the other kingdoms with the other princes and knights, and about Yura, and about how not only his own honor was at stake, but the honor of his family, of his people.

Baekhyun listened to it all very patiently and didn’t tell Chanyeol he was an idiot, which was unexpected (but appreciated). “Alright,” he said when Chanyeol ran out of words, “that’s all very well and good, but where are you going?”

“I don’t actually know,” Chanyeol admitted. “I was just going to head into the forest and…”

“...And what?” Baekhyun asked. “Wait for a quest to fall in your lap? This isn’t a storybook.”

Chanyeol huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. He crossed his legs, too, for good measure, upsetting Baekhyun, who leaped into the air with an affronted peep and hovered accusingly in front of his face.

“Watch it, Princeyeol,” Baekhyun said, “or you’ll find out all about fairy curses.”

“I’m sorry,” Chanyeol said immediately, totally out of habit. Baekhyun peered at him suspiciously.

“Are you?” he asked. “Are you really? Because when a human who isn’t scared of fairy curses, it’s usually because they think they’re better than fairies.”

Chanyeol blinked. “That’s silly,” he said. “You can fly.”

Baekhyun paused and regarded him for a long moment.

“Okay, cheeky prince,” he said finally. “You need a quest, I can give you a hint. Head towards the setting sun.”

Chanyeol waited, but there didn’t seem to be more. “Wait. That’s the hint?”

The fairy scowled at him. “You don’t have to follow it.” He made as if to fly away, and on reflex Chanyeol reached out and blocked him. Baekhyun was only about as tall as his hand, wrist to fingertips.

“I apologize, I didn’t mean to offend. Thank you. I’ll take any help I can get.” Baekhyun huffed, tiny arms crossed over a tiny, silk-clad chest, but when Chanyeol turned his hand to offer the fairy his palm, he did land on it, which Chanyeol hoped meant he wasn’t too angry.

Chanyeol looked up and noticed that, sure enough, the sun was starting to descend. He’d been asleep for hours. “I guess now is as good a time as any, right?” He looked down at the little creature in his palm and inclined his head. “I appreciate your help, Baekhyun,” he said, a little formally. “Please, visit me any time.”

“Oh, I will,” Baekhyun said immediately. “Advice isn’t free, you know. You owe me a favor.”

That didn’t sound good. “Alright,” Chanyeol agreed, because what else could he do? Sneaky fairy. “Well then, I suppose we shall meet again. Enjoy your afternoon.”

Baekhyun took off with only a quick nod of acknowledgement, flitting away into the trees until he disappeared. Chanyeol watched him go, shaking his head slightly. It was an interesting start to his adventure, if not a terribly thrilling one.

He tracked down his horse, who had gotten bored and wandered away to a nearby clearing to graze, and mounted up. Carefully, he gauged the exact angle at which the sun would set, his extensive astronomy and navigation training coming in handy for once, and set out.



+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++



As it turned out, maintaining his direction once the woods got thicker and the darkness got deeper was nearly impossible. His lantern, suspended on a tall hook attached to his saddle, only lit a few yards around him, and the going was very slow. He decided his path by carefully lining up trees or bushes in the direction he was to travel, then moving to the second one without taking his eyes off it, lest he stray from his path.

When he noticed a familiar looking bush in his travels - it looked exactly like his aunt’s old, crotchety housecat, it was very distinctive - he started to get a little concerned. When he came upon that bush for the third time, however, he looked around and realized he was going in very literal circles.

“It’s possible,” he said out loud to the forest at large, “that I should have taken better advantage of the daylight.”

The smart thing to do would probably have been to set up camp right there at that angry-cat bush, build a fire, get some sleep and start over again at dawn. And Chanyeol did try, but even after clearing a conveniently grassless patch of nearby ground of debris, digging a fire pit, gathering kindling, and building the fire, he still felt far too awake. It was a beautiful night, and even if the overarching foliage and the light of the fire did blot out the stars, he found himself unwilling to sleep just yet.

Unfortunately, he hadn’t thought to bring with him anything to do. No books, of course, since that would only have weighed him and his horse down unnecessarily, but not even a journal or a sketchbook or anything. In the end, he ended up singing an old folk-song under his breath, one his nanny had sung to him when he was small, and daydreaming about the looks on his people’s faces when he rode into his capital with a beautiful princess seated in front of him.

Now that he was really thinking about this, though, perhaps they should return to her kingdom first. Yes, of course, that was how it would have to go; it wouldn’t do for him to dally when her family was most likely worried sick over her. If his future brother-in-law had been so callous as to take Yura home with him, and not bring her to her family, well, that would have caused all sorts of trouble.

So Chanyeol’s fantasy changed to one of a foreign nation, one who had never heard of the ‘Stay-at-home Prince.’ How they would cheer and gasp and sob with relief as their beloved daughter was returned to them. Presenting her to her father with a bowed head and receiving the same commendations as that other prince had from his own father, while his lovely princess embraced her mother tearfully at the foot of the throne.

Half a kingdom. What would he do with half a kingdom? Would he leave his own kingdom behind? Would he rule one half of his home kingdom, and one half of his betrothed’s? If they were close enough, perhaps he could manage that, though it would be a logistical nightmare. Still, as long as he had ministers he could trust, ministers who could handle the day-to-day in his absence, it was not impossible, or even far outside the realm of reason. His father had always taught him that good, honest, trustworthy ministers were an absolute necessity in running a kingdom anyway.

But perhaps his lovely princess would be an only child, or have only sisters. Without a male heir, perhaps his future father-in-law would name him heir, and he’d get a whole kingdom. What then?

Well, perhaps it would be best, in that case, to turn over his half of his homeland to his future brother-in-law. Yura had always wanted to be Queen, anyway, and not just Princess Royal. Her husband-to-be was not a terribly bright man, but he was a good and fair one, and Yura could easily handle the rest; Chanyeol would be leaving his people in good hands.

Not that he particularly liked the thought of giving up his throne, even for another one.

So caught up in his thoughts was he that Chanyeol did not notice the movement around him until he felt something slide over his foot. His instincts screamed snake and he kicked out, but the thing did not have the weight of a snake, nor did it go flying the way a snake would. Bending down, Chanyeol peered at it in the dim firelight, and realized, after a moment, that it was a thick vine.

Huh. That was strange.

Standing, Chanyeol looked about, and realized, to his increasing alarm, that his previously barren little clearing had been overtaken by woody green vines, creeping up along the edges and closing in on the fire with a speed and agility that was in no way natural. They were moving like they were animal, not plant, too alive, too sentient. The noise of surprise that emitted from Chanyeol’s mouth caught his horse’s attention, and as a vine reached for her hoof, she screamed in fright and reared, yanking out the stake to which he’d tethered her. Chanyeol leaped to his feet and raced to her side, but he wasn’t fast enough; she took off into the night.

“Hellfire,” Chanyeol cursed, kicking at encroaching vines as he made his way back to his packs. Fortunately he had taken all the tack off his horse before tethering her, so he still had the saddlebags with all his armor and supplies; unfortunately it was probably too much for him to carry so he was going to have to leave some of it behind.

So far, though the vines were pushy and invasive (and rather rude, actually), they weren’t threatening, so Chanyeol felt alright taking a moment to get his things together and decide what he was going to leave. In the end, he pulled the rest of his armor on quickly, thankful that he hadn’t yet taken off his cuirass (as that was quite a pain to put on without help), untied the saddlebags, slung them over his shoulders and headed out into the night with his sword in one hand and his lantern in the other, all of his horse’s fine equipment left on the ground to be overtaken by vines and the fire he’d spent an hour building suffocated to a thin trail of smoke behind him.

Unfortunately, he was well away from his campsite before he remembered he was supposed to be going in a specific direction. Swearing in a very un-Princelike manner under his breath, Chanyeol moved until he found a place where the trees opened up enough for him to see some stars and attempted to gauge his direction.

It took a moment, but he was reasonably certain he needed to be going that way. Hefting his saddlebags higher onto his shoulders - if he’d known his horse was going to run off, he would have just brought a pack - he started off.

The going was mostly uneventful at first. The woods were very, very dark, but he still had his lantern, and there was surprisingly not a lot of fauna around. He spotted perhaps one burrow, heard the faint cheep of a sleepy bird or the call of a cricket a handful of times. Otherwise, it was silent, but for the breeze rustling the leaves.

Then, perhaps half an hour later, he stopped and found another place to look up, to get his bearings - and frowned. He was going completely the wrong direction.

Re-setting himself with a grumble, he started again. This time, he didn’t wait so long to check himself - perhaps ten minutes.

What the - He was literally at right angles from the direction he should be facing. That was just not possible.

Until this point, Chanyeol had not been afraid. Not when he woke up with a fairy in his face, not when he realized he was going in circles the first time, not when his campsite was overrun by sentient vines and his horse ran off. But now he was starting to think the forest itself was messing with him, and it was getting under his skin. The dark shadows of the trees seemed to move in the corners of his vision, making him jumpy, his armored hand closing around the hilt of his sword. (As if a sword was going to help him against trees.)

(Why was he getting scared of trees?)

(This whole thing was just ridiculous.)

Rustling behind him had Chanyeol whipping around, drawing his sword in the same movement and brandishing it at the darkness. There was nothing behind him (except trees), but he walked backwards for a few steps, just to be certain.

Of course, he ran right into a tree.

Annoyed, Chanyeol pulled away - or tried to. It felt like his armor was caught on something.

“Gods-blasted forests -” he swore, yanking himself away. He nearly choked as his body moved but his cuirass didn’t, causing him to lose his balance and stumble back against the bark.

Twisting to try and see what the issue was, Chanyeol realized quite abruptly that there were vines wrapping around his waist, his knees, reaching for his shoulders and elbows and creeping towards his neck.

Trained reflexes and instinctive panic had him acting before the threat even completely registered. He hacked clumsily at the vines around his body, desperation giving him the strength to cut himself free despite the awkward angle and the real possibility of missing and injuring himself. Finally, he was freed, and Chanyeol pulled away, his cuirass separating from the tree.

He only made it two steps before something - given his evening so far, probably a vine - s around his ankle. Chanyeol toppled like an oak felled by a woodsman, hitting the ground with a hard whumph that knocked all air from his lungs. It stunned him, and he didn’t react quickly enough, and the next thing he knew he was pressed to the ground, overtaken by creeping vines and gnarled roots that broke up through the ground to envelop him. His sword was tugged from his hand and pressure pushed his face into the dirt until he couldn’t breathe and his kicking and flailing did him no good, within moments he was totally immobilized.

His nose and mouth filled with soil, Chanyeol out.



+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++



This time, Chanyeol came to, not to the gentle sound of tinkling fairy laughter, but with a rush of adrenaline and a gasp, still fighting against strangling vines that were - he quickly realized - no longer there.

His first instinct was, was that a dream? But there was a soreness in his body, a horrible gritty feeling in his mouth, that hinted it hadn’t been. So how had he gotten away?

Sitting up and looking around, Chanyeol became aware that he was no longer in the same densely-packed section of woods in which he’d been felled by foliage. Instead, he was in a small clearing, laid out on a mossy rock next to a clear, still pool. He could not see the sun for the crowns of the massive trees around him, but the amount of light told him it was morning, perhaps well after sunrise.

He also became aware that he was no longer in his armor, but only the soft, tanned leather leggings and loose red cambric shirt which he had been wearing under his plate and gambeson. That pointed to someone rescuing him - and then stripping him of his armor, for some unknown reason. Was it so damaged by the pressure that it was no longer worth wearing? Or had it been stolen? Who would rescue someone just to rob them blind?

“You’re awake.”

The voice was soft, medium-toned, probably male, and seemed to come from nowhere. Chanyeol scrambled to his feet - ow ow ow everything hurt - and spun in a circle looking for the source of the voice, his hand going instinctively to a sword that was no longer there.

“Who’s there?” he called, his throat hoarse from disuse (and dirt) but his voice steady.

A noise behind him had him turning, flashing back for a moment to the night before when the same action ended with him unconscious, but this time, there was something there.

A horse.

No, wait. Not a horse.

A unicorn.

Chanyeol stared.

“You’re a unicorn,” he said, rather dumbly.

The unicorn fixed him with a look from one huge, brown eye. “You are a prince,” the unicorn said in return. Or at least, Chanyeol thought it must be the unicorn’s voice, even though it’s mouth didn’t move. “You’re a prince, and you’re awake. Thats two for me, and only one for you. Your turn.”

Um. What? “You’re a unicorn,” Chanyeol repeated, feeling very much like he was missing something, “and...you rescued me?”

The unicorn’s face did not change, but Chanyeol had the strangest feeling it smiled at him. “Very good, prince,” it - he? - said.

“Did you take my armor off me, too?” Chanyeol asked, before the unicorn could keep playing whatever odd guessing game he was after.

“I did,” the unicorn said, stepping forward. He walked past Chanyeol to drink from the pool, calm as you please, and Chanyeol was surprised to see as he passed that he was only as tall as Chanyeol himself, nowhere near as big as a full-sized horse. He was, however, very beautiful, and fascinating to watch.

“Um,” Chanyeol said, stepping to the side a little bit to let the beast pass, “thank you, for rescuing me.”

“You’re welcome,” the unicorn replied, without lifting his head from the water. Chanyeol realized, at that point, that the voice was in his mind, not his ears. “I didn’t really have much of a choice, but you’re welcome anyway.”

Chanyeol frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I was called to help you,” the unicorn explained, lifting its head and shaking out its luxurious mane. “It woke me and pulled me from my grotto, led me to your side.”

Chanyeol frowned harder. “I thought unicorns were only drawn to maidens,” he said.

The unicorn gave him a look (which was an odd thing to witness.) “The ‘maiden’ part is not actually necessary.”

What...Oh. Chanyeol immediately turned red. He opened his mouth to defend himself - I am a very busy prince with many important duties, I don’t have time for dalliances - but then realized he was defending his ity to a unicorn and shut up. Instead, he asked, “Why did you remove my armor?”

“You were too heavy to carry with it on,” the unicorn said.

“Um, forgive me for asking,” Chanyeol said, his curiosity getting the better of him, “but...how? I have enough trouble with it, and I have thumbs.”

The unicorn gave him another one of those unsettling not-smiles, and then began to shift, to change, until it wasn’t a mythical beast standing before him, it was a man. A young, beautiful man with kind, deep brown eyes, dressed all in white with light brown hair falling over one side of his face, as thick and wavy as his mane had been. He was shorter than Chanyeol, but broad-shouldered, and his smile looked exactly the way the unicorn’s smile had felt.

The man spread his hands, palms up. “All those human s would not do me very much good if that was my only form, would they?” he pointed out. His voice was exactly the same, except real, and it was so disconcerting that it took Chanyeol much longer than it should have for what he had actually said to sink in.

“Oh,” he exclaimed in surprise. “You...Oh.” He took a step back.

The unicorn-man’s smile widened, displaying a deep dimple in one cheek. “Don’t fret, prince,” he said lightly. “I don’t take what isn’t offered. But many do offer - particularly if I have saved their lives.” He gave Chanyeol a pointed, up-and-down look that had him flushing from his ears down to his navel.

“I. Um. Not that you’re not...but. No thanks?” he squeaked. “I’d be...I’d be happy to thank you another way.”

A careless shrug. That smile hadn’t faded yet, and it was starting to cause Chanyeol distress. “That may be acceptable,” he said. “What is your name, prince?”

“Chanyeol,” Chanyeol replied, and bowed, for good measure. “May I ask yours?”

“So polite,” the unicorn observed, and Chanyeol got the impression he was being teased. “I am Yixing. How do you suggest you thank me, Prince Chanyeol?”

Chanyeol blinked. “I. Um.” He cleared his throat. “I can…”

Delicate brows raised. “Don’t strain yourself, handsome.”

Flushing, Chanyeol raised his hands defensively. “Look, I’m a prince. I have lots of talents, I’m just not sure any of them are going to be of use to a unicorn. Do you need any monsters killed or damsels rescued? Or, I don’t know, economic problems solved?”

Yixing’s smile made Chanyeol feel rather like a small, stupid child. “Tell you what,” he murmured. “How about a kiss?”

Chanyeol took another step back. “But…”

“Just one, my Prince. I will be gentle.” Yixing winked at him.

“I’m not sure that’s a good...My mouth is still full of dirt,” Chanyeol said desperately.

Yixing stepped forward - he moved kind of like a horse, that was strange - and raised a hand to cup Chanyeol’s jawline. “I can remedy that,” he said, and as his fingers trailed delicately down Chanyeol’s skin, Chanyeol felt the grittiness in his throat melt away as if it was never there. And then, Yixing leaned up, and Chanyeol instinctively closed his eyes, and their lips met.

Chanyeol wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but the kiss was chaste, if firm, and Yixing’s tiny sigh was...sweet. His palm slid more fully against the side of Chanyeol’s face, and suddenly, Chanyeol’s mind was filled with images, of mountains and fire and green-black scales, of forests and frying pans and the most beautiful eyes he’d ever known.

Gasping, he pulled away.

“I thought so,” Yixing said smugly, running a thumb over his wetted lips. “My little Prince has a destiny after all.”

Chanyeol stared at him, dumbfounded. “What...what did I just see?”

“Reflections,” Yixing said. “It’s too bad, really. You are very, very handsome, and I would very much like to keep you.” His hand trailed down Chanyeol’s neck, shoulder, arm. “But it is not to be. You are meant for a different fate.” He picked up Chanyeol’s hand and turned it over, tracing over the lines like a fortune teller.

Chanyeol’s heart beat like a drum. “You mean there’s actually a quest out there for me?”

“There’s a quest for everyone,” the unicorn murmured, “if they’re willing to go out and find it.” He let Chanyeol’s hand drop. “Give me a real kiss, Prince,” he challenged, “and I’ll tell you how to get there.”

“Um...okay.” Was this a trick? Oh well, it wasn’t as if a single kiss was too much to ask. Chanyeol leaned down.

Yixing’s lips landed on his with much more force this time, tongue pushing past, warm and invasive and really very inappropriate. And this time there were no visions - but Chanyeol did see a flash of those eyes again, wide and dark and heavily-lashed. Was that his bride-to-be?

She was...beautiful.

Wow.

Yixing broke the kiss, and Chanyeol stared down at him dumbly, not seeing the unicorn-man but rather those eyes. Until this point the damsel he planned to rescue was a nebulous, featureless form, a means to an end; but now she had features (okay, one feature, one gorgeous feature) and suddenly, it was personal, it was real. There was a young woman out there, a princess maybe (or maybe not, he didn’t actually know) who was in danger, who needed him, who was his destiny.

It was exciting, it was terrifying...it was sobering.

“Come back, handsome Prince,” Yixing said softly, and Chanyeol blinked back into reality. “Are you ready to begin your quest?”

Chanyeol took a deep breath. “Yeah,” he said. “I’m ready. What should I do?”

His red lips curling into a mysterious smile, Yixing turned and pointed. “That trail,” he said. “Follow it until you reach the river. Your guides will be there.” His smile deepened until it crinkled the corners of his eyes. “They may not know that’s what they are, but they will lead you where you need to be.”

“O-Okay,” Chanyeol said. “My armor? My sword? All my supplies?”

“Lost, I’m afraid,” Yixing said. “It was the choice of leave them behind for the forest to take, or leave you behind. Don’t fret - you will find what you need.”

Did he have any choice but to trust that? Not really. “Thank you, Yixing,” he said. “I regret I am not able to truly repay you for what you’ve done for me.”

“It’s enough for now,” Yixing said. “The rest of your debt, I may call upon from you at another date. Or perhaps I will call upon your firstborn in your stead, we shall see.”

His firstborn. Chanyeol swallowed hard, the reality of his quest weighing upon him. (His future wife, his future child - his destiny.) “If that is what must be,” he said weakly. “Thank you.” He bowed again, and with renewed purpose exited the glade and started along the trail Yixing had indicated.

It wasn’t until he was outside the glen that he realized his body was no longer sore, no longer bruised and battered. He swallowed hard, one hand reaching up to touch his own lips, and turned to go back and thank Yixing again.

There was nothing but path behind him. The glade was gone, as if it had never existed.

Unsettled, but determined, Chanyeol whispered his thanks to the air and turned to face his destiny.