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Alberu is not sure how much time has passed.
Less than a week, he’s sure. He remembers being given water once a bit ago. He had been dangerously dehydrated and on the verge of unconsciousness before there had been someone in the room with him and cool water being forced down his throat. He’s thirsty now, but it’s not as bad as it had been, so it can’t have been too long.
He is starving though. He’s pretty sure that even if he wasn’t already chained down, he wouldn’t be able to stand. He’s hungry enough that his stomach hurts more than anything, feeling like a gaping wound that’s been left there for the world to see. His limbs feel heavy and it’s hard to not focus on the hunger when there is nothing else in this damn room to focus on.
He’s not even entirely sure why he was kidnapped. It’s not that he can’t think of a reason, but rather because his captors are being horribly unhelpful in narrowing it down.
He’s the Crown Prince of Roan with a coronation date set. He’s a war hero. He’s the sworn brother of the most famous person on both continents. He’s a quarter-dark elf, an existence that is still regarded warily by the pious.
However, instead of being interrogated, tortured, ‘purified’, or even recorded in any capacity, he’s instead been left to rot in this underground makeshift cell. He hasn’t even seen anyone since he was locked in here besides the masked figure who brought the water, and they had refused to respond to any of his (admittedly few) raspy questions or jabs.
He’s not sure if he should be more worried or annoyed. Worried, because he has no clue about what the people who have him might be planning since they’ve deviated from the typical procedure. Annoyed, because there’s a chance that he got grabbed by fools who didn’t plan what to do if they actually managed to capture him.
It doesn’t help that he doesn’t quite exactly remember how he got grabbed. There’s a blurry rush of movement and sound in his memory that he’s tried over and over again to decipher without any luck. Was only he grabbed, or had there been others? Had there been people with him and, if so, are they still alive?
How long did it take before anyone noticed he was missing?
Half a decade ago, he would have been ten times as scared as he is right now. He wouldn’t have crumbled and shown it, but he probably would have accepted the likely possibility that he was going to be left here to die. That his father would turn a blind eye and his half-brothers would take the opportunity to pounce and he would just be another dead sibling of a future king. That the first people who noticed his absence--likely his aunt and the other dark elves that serve him--were unable to get enough attention or support for a rescue effort.
(That no one human would care about him, Alberu, and just be frustrated that they put their political weight behind the wrong prince.)
Things are different now. Better. He’s stronger in both terms of physical and political power. He has far more trusted allies.
He has a determined bastard with more Ancient Powers than emotional availability that’ll break him out and then pretend the only reason he did so is to get a monetary reward. He has an instructor who happens to be the strongest swordsmaster Alberu’s ever heard of that would be serious in the moment but then poke fun at him for it later with a straight face and black eyes sparkling with amusement.
He has friends.
He has a sworn brother and a…
He has a sworn brother and whatever the hell Choi Han is, because instructor has been feeling like a lacking title these days.
(He had considered asking Tasha for advice, but then realized that that would just be signing himself up for being teased and mocked and not at all helped. He trusts his Aunt with many things. His potential love life is not one of them.)
He freezes and holds his breathing for a moment. Did he just hear…?
There’s a distant sound of an explosion.
His lips quirk up into a faint smile without his consent. He doesn’t know why he expected to be saved quietly, really. He’s pretty sure half the people he knows don’t even know what ‘subtlety’ is and the other half pretend like they don’t whenever it suits them.
He can’t quite stand with how he’s chained up, but he can readjust his position to something where he’s less hindered and maybe just a tad bit more dignified.
Not that the latter matters whatsoever. It’s not like he can tell just based off of the specific sound of destruction who exactly is heading in his direction. That would be ridiculous.
He quickly pulls his hands down from where they were attempting to fix his hair when the sound of footsteps near. Based on the pace and weight behind each step, that could only be--
“Oh, hello there.” He says with a perfect smile, as if he was just walked in on while reading a novel at a library rather than dirty and chained to the floor of this underground cell.
Choi Han, who had ripped the metal door off of his cell with his bare hands in order to gain entry, just rolls his eyes at him.
There is concern on the swordsmaster’s face, though. His face is pinched in worry and his eyes quickly dart up and down him in a way that is more checking for injuries than anything else.
“Are you hurt?” Choi Han asks, stepping over beginning to cut through the chains with that beautiful, starry aura of his.
“No, just--” Alberu stands midsentence and has to pause as the world spins a bit. There’s a firm grip on his forearm as his rescuer helps to steady him. “--just hungry.”
Then, in a moment of genius, he lets his knees buckle and falls into Choi Han’s arms.
Choi Han lets out a curse and suddenly Alberu is being lifted into the air like he weighs nothing. His face is suddenly in a far more optimal position. Excellent view.
“I can walk.” Alberu says mildly, not particularly trying to move. Choi Han’s already moving out of the cell and he knows that due to repeated exposure to Cale those words offer no hint of reassurance.
“Okay.” Sure enough, all that happens is Choi Han’s grip tightens, as if ready for him to try and struggle. “I believe you.”
His words are dripping in sarcasm, which is probably the only reason they didn’t come out stilted like anytime the man tries to lie or act. Alberu thoroughly enjoys Choi Han’s sassy moments. They’re on the rarer side, but that just makes them that much better.
Choi Han hushes him light enough that he knows the man is serious, so Alberu stays quiet for the next few minutes. This place doesn’t seem particularly large, but Choi Han keeps pausing at corners and seemingly waiting for something that only the swordsmaster can hear before continuing to move.
Maybe a dragon’s talking to him telepathically. It says a lot about the way his life has gone that that is somehow not only not an outrageous idea but actually a fairly plausible one.
Finally, Choi Han ducks up a stairwell and runs so fast the world blurs. Or at least, that was what Alberu assumed was happening until Choi Han stops and the world stays blurry.
“Choi Han,” He manages to get out, mentally wincing at how weak his voice sounds. “I…”
He’s being gently placed down on the ground and mourns for a second at the loss of the swordsmaster’s warmth. He blinks harshly a few times and it’s only after a bit too long that he’s able to focus on the world once more.
Choi Han is kneeling in front of him, digging through what Alberu recognized as a spatial pocket bag. He’s frowning quite harshly
Alberu opens his mouth to ask what’s wrong, before Choi Han suddenly freezes. He then closes his eyes and takes a steady breath before reaching and pulling out a different spatial pocket bag.
Huh. Alberu doesn’t know why the man was flustered enough that he apparently forgot which bag whatever he was looking for was in. It seems a bit out of character, considering the lack of urgency in their current situation.
What he was looking for ends up being an entire slice of apple pie.
Honestly, if Alberu hadn’t already seen Raon Miru stuff slices of apple pie into Cale’s mouth on several occasions, he would be questioning his sanity right now. Instead, he just lets out an amused huff and extends a shaking hand. There’s no fork or silverware of any kind, but that’s hardly an issue--
Choi Han looks at his shaking hand, frowns again, before reaching out and holding it in his own.
Uh. What?
“Here.” Choi Han murmurs, his voice so incredibly soft that it takes Alberu’s breath away. He’s ripped off his glove and taken a bit of the pie into his now bare hand. There’s something strangely heartwarming about seeing something so rough and callused holding something with such care.
Alberu opens his mouth to make a remark on it, before blinking as he realizes that that bit of pie was now in his mouth.
Oh.
Oh.
Choi Han is feeding him and holding his hand.
This is fine.
He forces himself to close his mouth and slowly chew the food. It’s delicious, of course, but for some reason Alberu can’t find it in himself to focus on the taste.
“It’s okay, Alberu.” Choi Han says and Alberu briefly wonders if this is a hallucination. Maybe psychological torture.
If so it’s pretty damn effective.
He swallows and realizes that his face is definitely flushed.
“Choi Han—” he tries, but then Choi Han smiles and Alberu melts.
“It’s okay,” he repeats, holding another piece of apple pie to Alberu’s lips. The crown prince takes it automatically and then nearly chokes on it when instead of moving his hand away, Choi Han’s fingers instead brush over his lips
Then, Choi Han cradles his face with that hand—the other still firmly holding onto Alberu’s—and for some reason he looks like he’s staring at the most beautiful thing in the world.
Choi Han leans in and presses a kiss on Alberu’s forehead.
“It’s okay.” He repeats one more time. “You’re safe now. I’m here.”