Chapter Text
In the sixth year of summer, dragons descended upon Winterfell.
Screams and curses rose in the air as the first of the giant shadows swept over the castle, all clamour soon drowned out by the screeching roars of the beasts. Chan counted three, one for every dragonlord that had come to take his crown from him.
“Holy shit,” Chan could hear Changbin breathe behind him.
Chan knew his people to be strong and fearless, but he couldn’t blame Changbin for faltering. He himself felt his knees shake. At that moment, he seriously wondered whether it was a blessing or a curse that his father had died the year before.
On the one hand, Chan wished there was someone else, someone as strong and unfaltering as his father had been, who could have stood in his place. On the other hand, Chan was grateful his father did not have to see what dreadful ending had come for them.
Chan had grown up dreaming of being a great king. He’d dreamt of leading his people through even the harshest of winters. He never could have imagined that the biggest enemy he could face would come in the form of scaly, fire-breathing beasts descending from the sky.
Not that they weren’t beautiful.
Awe mixed into the screams of terror as the first of the dragons landed. It was as tall as a mountain and black as the night, its talons ripping huge holes in the western wall of the castle. Since the dragon was too big to fit inside the courtyard, it had to perch on the wall. Morghon, Chan knew the dragon was called. Death, without any other monikers to make light of the fact that this was what it brought.
As the King in the North, Chan put on a brave face. As a human, Chan trembled before the beast. It was just so huge. A single sweep of its spiked tail could have taken out a hundred of his men at once. Chan understood then why five out of seven great houses had bent the knee so far. What king, in good faith, would have unleashed such a beast upon their people?
And Morghon was only one of three.
A synchronised set of screeches drew his attention to the two other dragons that were circling in the sky, descending fast. They were smaller, each only as tall as a two-story barn so one of them did land in the courtyard while the other perched itself on the Eastern wall, opposite of its brother.
Chan swallowed as he took in the second wall-sitter. The dragon was a vibrant green, shimmering like the most precious of gemstones, or the most venomous of snakes. Thin, spiked skin rose around its neck like a ruffle as it screeched. Several of the noblemen gathered inside the courtyard fled from its vicinity, moving closer to the dais on which Chan was standing.
As if he could have helped them.
Chan wished he would have known how.
“Do not yield,” Minho said to his right. His face was stricken with grief. Whether for Chan’s kingdom or his own, Chan didn’t know. He supposed it didn’t make a difference.
Another, trilling screech had Chan focus back on the courtyard, on the dragon which had landed right in the middle of the crowd. For the first time since a monstrous roar had announced the arrival of the conqueror and his brothers, Chan truly couldn’t find another breath in his lungs. The third dragon was not only terrifying, it was also beautiful. Covered head to toe in golden scales, it looked like a piece of the sun itself had struck the earth.
“Oh, wow,” Changbin echoed his thoughts.
“Do not yield.” Minho grabbed onto the sleeve of Chan’s fur coat, sounding desperate this time.
Despite the fear lacing his bones, Chan smiled at his friend. There wasn’t any more he could offer Minho before Morghon roared and they were forced to face the inevitable. Slowly, Chan descended the dais, watching as the dragon riders descended their beasts in turn.
Despite the fact that the golden dragon was closest to him, it was the conqueror who reached him first. His black dragon extended its long neck until its head hovered above the earth in front of Chan’s feet, allowing the conqueror to slide down the length like a child might have slid down the side of a hill in winter time. The conqueror landed a lot more elegantly though.
As with his dragon, the people which were gathered in the courtyard hurried to get out of his way. Chan could tell that it amused the conqueror. A grin split his features. Because he was dressed in the same midnight black colour as his dragon’s scales, Chan had struggled to make out the man when he’d still been on top of his beast. Seeing him up close, Chan could tell why people had not only whispered tales of terror about him.
Like all dragonlords, the conqueror was cursed with silvery white hair and purple eyes. He wore the silver strands pulled back from his face, the solid black of his clothing making the abnormal colouring of his hair and eyes stand out all the more. Chan wasn’t surprised to see that the gods had left a Minho on him.
He figured that only a man with divinity in his blood should have been able to tame a dragon.
“Bang Chan,” the conqueror called out, laughter in his voice as if they were old friends. Chan found it cruel. “I extend my greetings to you, King in the North.”
Chan didn’t answer. He knew he was supposed to speak. Guest right demanded that he welcome the other man. He just…couldn’t. There was no breath in his lungs to speak, his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth.
The conqueror’s eyes crinkled in amusement at Chan’s short-comings.
“My name is Hyunjin,” he introduced himself as if Chan didn’t already know that. “This is my brother Jisung,” he pointed towards the man moving through the crowd, the hissing growls of the green dragon above warning off any of the onlookers. “And this is Felix.”
It wasn’t until Morghon lifted his head that Chan had a chance to see Felix, to truly see the man who had come to cut out his heart. If there had ever been any air left in his lungs, it left him at once.
Felix’s expression was trist and whether that was because he disliked the cold or the predicament they were in, Chan didn’t know, but it didn’t make a difference. Felix could have opened his mouth to reveal teeth as sharp as the fangs of his dragon and Chan still would have believed him to be the most beautiful man he’d ever seen.
“Felix,” Chan echoed, finally finding his words.
Hyunjin laughed, clapping his hands. “That’s right!”
Chan was pretty sure he was being made fun of, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t care. Hyunjin was strikingly handsome and so was Jisung, but looking at Felix felt like looking at a god. A new deity to replace Chan’s old gods.
Chan couldn’t look away.
For his newfound reverence, he received nothing but scorn. Purple eyes flayed him layer for layer before Felix looked away from him, stepping closer to his twin brother. Jisung grabbed Felix’s hand, visibly squeezing it before both of them looked towards Hyunjin.
Chan should have done the same. It took him longer than it should have to look away from Felix.
“Hyunjin,” he finally greeted. “Welcome to Winterfell.”
“Oh, it’s a pleasure to be here! Your castle is as mighty as they say,” Hyunjin complimented, looking around like he was a young noble who’d come to sight-see and not the man who’d left a broad, bloody trail across the continent. “The North stands strong.”
Chan nodded. He had no heart for flattery, especially not false flattery. It was cruel of Hyunjin to speak of Winterfell’s grandeur when half the western wall was crumbling under Morghon’s weight.
“If you will, come and follow me into the great hall. We’ve prepared a feast to celebrate your arrival.”
Guest right was sacred. If this was the night Chan was to die, then he would not anger his gods beforehand. He had to welcome the conqueror into his home.
Hyunjin’s face lit up with happiness at the invitation and Chan was sure more than just one person in the crowd fainted at such a stunning sight.
“Oh, that sounds wonderful! I can see that the tales of Northern hospitality are true! The journey up north was long, so a warm meal sounds just like what we need!”
Chan nodded, feeling a little numb as he motioned for Hyunjin to come along. He was not dumb enough to turn his back to the dragonlords completely so he let Changbin take the lead, walking next to the conqueror rather than in front of him.
It put Felix and Jisung at his back, but Minho was still there.
Hyunjin seemed delighted at the proximity Chan allowed him. He kept babbling about their surroundings, complimenting the architecture and people, acting as if he didn’t have a care in the world. As if he hadn’t come to destroy it all.
“Is this the pelt of a wolf?” he asked as they entered the great hall, tugging on the sleeve of Chan’s fur coat. “Did you kill it? Is that why they call you the Wolf in the North?”
“Remove your hand from the King at once.”
Their entire party came to a halt when Changbin did. Hyunjin’s brows rose to the middle of his forehead and just for a moment, Chan could see the dragon inside, could see indignance in the dragonlord’s eyes and an absolute willingness to tear Changbin limb from limb for having spoken to him like this. Like a candle flame snuffed out, it lasted no more than a split second before Hyunjin was grinning again. Of course, a dragon was only an overgrown snake.
“Of course.” Hyunjin let go of Chan’s sleeve. “I apologise for my transgression, Ser…?”
Changbin looked at Chan, who lightly shook his head. Changbin huffed and left them without another word. Hyunjin’s eyes trailed him like a dragon regarding its next meal before he directed a blinding smile at Chan.
“He’s quite protective, your knight.”
“Changbin would go to the death for me, as I would for him.” Chan looked directly into the other man’s eyes when he said, “It’s a trait you will find amongst many men in the North. We are loyal, and we are not afraid to die for our people.”
Silence fell over their small party. Chan felt more than one pair of purple eyes stare at him.
There was still amusement in Hyunjin’s gaze, but he looked a lot more somber now, as if he had to force himself to laugh. He’d clearly understood what Chan had just told him. “I see.”
Chan nodded. Gruff, but he’d never promised to be anything else.
“Come,” he said, because he was still not willing to anger his gods. “The feast has already begun.”
*
Entertaining Hyunjin was harder than Chan had imagined. Not that he’d thought it would be easy. No, he’d even prepared himself for having to talk a lot.
That burden, Hyunjin took off his shoulders. He talked non-stop and even during the times he just sat back and watched the feast go on around them, the satisfied smile on his face didn’t falter. It made any effort to entertain him on Chan’s part superfluous.
What Chan was struggling with was to listen to him.
His eyes were on Hyunjin and he managed to nod at the appropriate times, but his heart strained towards the opposite end of the hall, to where Felix and Jisung were sitting, having sequestered themselves from everyone else by the length of several chairs.
The only one brave enough to sit with them was Minho, but Chan knew he wasn’t doing it out of the kindness of his own heart. He was probably wondering how he could poison the dragonlords’ cups without anyone noticing. Chan didn’t know whether he wanted him to be successful or not.
He couldn’t help but look at Felix. There was this inane need inside him to marvel at the delicate design of his face. To count the freckles on his cheeks. In the same vein, his fingers itched to trace the intricately woven braids keeping his long, silver hair out of his face. Hyunjin’s chin-length hair was tied together by a simple strap of leather and Jisung’s hair was too short to be in any sort of do, but Felix wore his hair long. It complimented his face beautifully.
Chan thought he was subtle about admiring him too, but of course he should have known better. He hadn’t been subtle a day in his life.
“You seem very taken with my brother already.” Hyunjin smiled against the golden rim of his goblet as he said it.
“He’s very beautiful.” There was no use in denying the obvious.
Hyunjin’s smile widened. “You know, since both of my brothers told me they’d be willing to marry you, I thought I might have to offer you Jisung if Felix wasn’t to your liking, but it seems that your heart is set. That makes me quite happy to see.”
Chan frowned. The callous way in which Hyunjin spoke about his brothers’ fate reminded him of who exactly the man next to him was. It reminded Chan who he was in turn. Who he had to be.
“My heart is with my people. Their best interest is my only interest.”
“I see.” Hyunjin perked up. “Do you want to go right into negotiations then? I don’t mind! The wine you have is only half as strong as what they offered me in the Riverlands. I’m still clear of mind!”
“There’s not much to negotiate, Hyunjin.” Do not yield, Chan reminded himself. “The North stands strong and independent.” He licked his lips to wet them, to fight against the dryness of his own mouth. A single sentence should not have been enough to doom himself and his people, and yet it was, “I reject your offer.”
“Ah,” Hyunjin slumped in his seat in disappointment. Chan expected him to declare war right then and there, but instead he said, “Felix will be heartbroken.”
At the mention of the dragon prince’s name, Chan had to inevitably look over. Felix was already looking at him, glowering like he wanted to burn Chan alive.
“Doubtful,” Chan muttered.
Hyunjin laughed. “I can see that you are a smart man, Bang Chan, and I do think you want to be a good king too. Hence and because I’m feeling quite gracious today, I reject your rejection of my proposal! We shall speak of it no further until you’ve given it more thought!”
Chan spluttered. That’s not how it works, he wanted to tell Hyunjin but Hyunjin wasn’t done talking yet.
“Think about it some more,” the conqueror said, purple eyes catching the light of the torches, “I think you might find that your heart’s desires can change.”
What I desire is inconsequential, Chan wanted to say, but Hyunjin was already standing up and what use would it have been to try and explain that to the other man.
Out of little more than whimsy it seemed, Hyunjin had taken ahold of nearly the entire continent. Five kingdoms had been brought to their knees because of one man’s heart being set on having them, and Chan’s was supposed to be the sixth. The thought alone made him grit his teeth.
He was not going to bring ruin to his own kingdom because he desired one man, even if it was the most beautiful man he’d ever seen.
“I’m not going to change my mind, Hyunjin.”
“We’ll see. I think you might find that we have more in common than you think.” Hyunjin’s smile persisted. “Now where is that guard of yours? I’d like to dance with him. See whether he’s as good with the rest of his body as he is with his tongue.”
Chan blinked. “Changbin?”
“Changbin,” Hyunjin echoed. “Changbin!” he called out, pointing to where the man was standing in the far corner of the room, sharing a drink with a couple of his soldiers.
Changbin choked on his wine when Hyunjin called out to him, the entire room falling silent to watch what the dragonlord was going to do.
Changbin pointed at himself as if to ask, “Me?” and Hyunjin’s grin widened. For a moment, Chan imagined him to have fangs instead of teeth.
“Yes, you,” Hyunjin sang, crossing the hall with long strides.
Changbin handed off his cup to the closest man before he, Seo Changbin of Bear Island, Chan’s best friend, Chan’s bravest fighter, unceremoniously turned tail and fled. Hyunjin laughed as he ran after him, right out of the great hall.
Outside of the castle, Chan could hear Morghon roar and he felt the distinct need to bury his head in his hands.
*
No war was declared that night, but no truce was reached either.
Chan felt his eyes burn with tiredness as he sat down at the war table in his room, a map of all of Westeros carved into the wood.
Minho had already been in his room when he’d come in, sitting in his usual seat to the left of Chan’s chair. The incessant, anxious tapping of his fingers against the wooden table top was slowly but surely driving Chan to madness.
“Hyung, can you stop that?”
Chan could have kissed Jeongin’s fluffy head at that moment. Mostly because he was the only one that Minho was likely to listen to despite how stressed he was. Sheepishly, Minho pulled his hand back. Seungmin, standing behind Jeongin’s chair, let out a small sigh of relief.
The last one to slink into the room was Changbin, looking a lot more meek than Chan had ever seen him. Jeongin outright laughed at him,
“You look like you got eaten by a dragon, hyungie!”
“I almost did!” Changbin whined as he sat down to Chan’s right. His eyes were wide as saucers as he grabbed onto Chan’s hand. “The dragon king is batshit insane, hyung!”
Despite the dire situation they were in, Chan laughed as he plucked several straws of hay from Changbin’s curls. “Did he chase you to the stables?”
“All around the castle, he did! I literally thought he was hunting me down for sport!”
“And what did he do when he caught you?” Jeongin asked, eager for the gossip. He’d pouted for days when they’d told him he wasn’t allowed to show himself during the feast and now he was eager to catch up.
“Nothing much. He just demanded I dance with him. I told him there’s no music. He told me to make some so I hummed…” Changbin coughed in embarrassment. “I hummed and we danced and then I offered to take him to his room, but he said he promised to spend the night with his one true love so I kind of…just…got left behind there.”
Chan bit his lip. Minho was looking suspiciously red where he was sitting. Seungmin placed a hand over his mouth.
Jeongin had no such qualms. He laughed outright. “Aw, hyung, don’t look so forlorn!”
Predictably, Changbin lunged at him over the table. “You want me to shorten you by a head’s length, eh? Maybe then you’d stop looking down on me, you insolent, little sh—!”
“Enough!” Chan hit the war table twice with the palm of his hand and both Jeongin and Changbin sat back in their chairs.
Minho hid his face in his hands, groaning, “So the dragon king is crazy. Good to know. That only worsens our problems times a hundred.”
Chan bit the inside of his cheek, staring at the carved map. He might as well have painted all of it in black and red. “I told him I am not going to accept his proposal.”
Minho lifted his head from his hands. “And what did he say?”
“He told me, in no uncertain terms, that I better reconsider.”
Silence fell across the table.
“What is going to happen if you don’t reconsider?” Jeongin’s question was soft. In the warm, orange glow of the firelight, he looked as young as he was. Chan felt acid rise up his throat. Jeongin was only five and ten. Too young to rule. Too young for Chan to leave him a kingdom of ashes.
“We go to war.”
“Would we win? I know they have dragons, but…we could win, right? The North is strong. Our army is one of the biggest on the entire continent!”
“If it was just the dragons…maybe…” Chan shuddered at the mere thought of how many lives would be lost to the talons and teeth he’d seen today. And the dragons hadn’t even spit any fire yet.
“But every kingdom south of the Neck has sworn fealty to Hyunjin. We’d be fighting five armies on top of the dragons. Our chances wouldn’t be good and there’s no one to call for help either. There’s no one left except for us and the Vale.”
Everyone’s eyes briefly fell onto Minho, who looked decisively green as he stared down at the map table, tracing his fingers over the mountains of his homeland. He cleared his throat when he noticed them looking.
“There is no sugarcoating it. If the North bends the knee, then the Vale will follow. Not as long as I’m alive, but I might as well let that dreadful green dragon eat me while I’m still here.” Minho laughed humourlessly. “Everyone knows what happened in Dorne.”
A shudder went around the table. It was a testimony to the devastation Hyunjin had left behind that tales of it had reached the North. According to the whispers, the Dornish king, stubborn as ever, hadn’t bent the knee when Hyunjin had started his conquest in the Southern-most kingdom. He’d refused Hyunjin’s offer three times. After the third time, Hyunjin hadn’t just killed the king. He’d razed the entire Southern capital, leaving behind nothing but rubble and glass—glass because that was what sand turned into when you melted it with dragonfire.
Chan reached for his friend’s hand. “If you must leave…”
Minho shook his head, looking at Chan with tears in his eyes. “What good would leaving do me? I’d rather die here, with my friends, than wait for my death in the Eyrie.”
Chan squeezed his hand. “Nothing is set in stone yet, Minho.”
“Right, you still get to reject Hyunjin’s offer twice more before the dragon king burns us all to a crisp.” Changbin looked like he needed another drink.
“What about the alternative?” Seungmin said. The Maester had been quiet so far, but Chan knew that there were a great many thoughts inside his head.
“What do you mean?” Chan asked him.
“You could accept the proposal.”
Minho snorted. “That’d just be exchanging one dreadful fate for another.”
“I mean…” Changbin cleared his throat. “I wouldn’t call Felix dreadful…”
Minho glared at him. “I thought we talked about this! The North does not bend to the whims of a mad man! Accepting the proposal would just mean choosing a slow, painful death instead of a swift, honourable one! What’s the difference then?”
“People,” Chan said, staring at the map table. Bile rose in his throat the longer he thought about it. Once more, he wished for his father. “The lives of millions of people are at stake, who did not ask for me to be their king and who did not ask for dragons to descend from the sky either. They did not choose who sits on the throne and I doubt they truly care. They will care, however, when their houses are burnt to ash.”
“Hyung,” Minho said, “you can’t be serious.”
Chan smiled at him, his friend who he could not blame for trying to save his own kingdom by sacrificing Chan’s. Minho had already said that he was willing to die here, with him. What more could Chan have asked of him?
“The decision is yours, Chan,” Seungmin said quietly. “You are the King so you decide. We will follow you.” Seungmin briefly glanced at Minho. “All of us.”
Minho nodded, looking nothing but defeated. Chan felt the same, though he didn’t get to show it. He smiled, if only so at least Jeongin would be able to sleep tonight.
“It’s late,” he said, “and today has been an eventful day. Let’s see what tomorrow brings. We shall reconvene tomorrow night.”
“And if Hyunjin demands an answer during breakfast?”
“Then I still have two more rejections left, like you said.” Chan smiled at Changbin. “Nothing catastrophic should happen until midday at least.”
It were the light-hearted words of a man weighed down by immense worries. It was enough to dismiss his council for the night.
Chan waited until he was alone before he finally started to shrug off the layers and layers of heavy clothing he was wearing. It got easier to breathe once he’d rid himself of all the furs and ornamental chains, but nothing managed to lift the stone sitting on his chest.
Looking at himself in the mirror, he saw the open maw of a dragon every time he closed his eyes.
*
Chan knew he should have gone to bed after the council meeting.
It was already turning into the early hours of the morning when he admitted to himself that sleep was not going to happen for him that night. There was too much that was weighing on his mind, the pressure behind his eyelids making him open them over and over to get rid of the feeling.
Eventually, he gave up on sleep and put his clothes back on. A morning walk ought to help him clear his head, even if it was still dark out. Stepping out of his room, he found that it was quiet in the castle. Even the last of the stragglers from the feast must have found their way into their beds by now. Chan was glad for it. The night guards he passed greeted him with quiet mumbles of his title. They, too, were unwilling to disturb the quiet of the night.
Chan made sure to smile at every single one of them he passed. All he received in return were looks of trust, of loyalty. His men trusted their King. Chan had to pray that their faith in him was not misplaced.
His feet led him to the godswood without it being a conscious decision. Going there meant he had to cross the western wall of the courtyard and Chan marvelled at what he found looking out into the lands. The hills right outside the castle walls had gained another sibling.
Like a mountain made from glittering black rock, Morghon was curled up in the valley between two hills. The black dragon’s right wing was folded to his side, but the other was half-extended. Chan wondered why the dragon was resting like that, since it couldn’t have been comfortable to keep one wing permanently bent at a weird angle, but then Chan caught a glimmer of gold underneath the half-extended wing, and then another glimmer of emerald even closer to Morghon’s leg. The other two dragons were as tall as houses respectively, yet they fit just perfectly under their brother’s wing.
Something about the sight made Chan falter in his step. There was no denying that the dragons were dreadful, but they were also beautiful. Just like any other creature, they’d huddled together against the cold. What monster knew to protect another?
Chan hastily moved along when Morghon lifted his head, a giant, slitted eye pointing right in Chan’s direction. He left the wall before the black dragon could decide to have him for breakfast.
The entrance to the godswood lay right by the southern gate, leading to three acres of holy, ancient forest. Chan skimmed his fingers along the barks of the trees until he reached the heart tree. It stood in the very centre of the godswood, right by a small pond. To say that Chan was surprised to already find someone sitting there would have been an understatement.
“Don’t touch the water! You don’t know what might reach for you in return!”
Felix lifted his head, the hood of his cloak falling back to reveal his long, silver hair. Chan found that Felix looked even more incandescent in the moonlight, his hair glowing as if it was made from moonlight itself.
Felix was quick to rise to his feet, his stance wide, defensive. Chan wanted to find that amusing, given the situation they were in, but then again, Felix’s golden dragon was far away. In the depth of these woods, it was Chan who was the wolf.
He raised his hands to show that he bore no weapon. “I’m sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. I was just concerned about your well-being.” Because Felix’s stance didn’t relax, he added, “You do not need to fear me.”
Felix did relax at that, if only to puff up with indignance. “I do not fear you.”
The way Felix was still closely watching his every move told Chan differently, but Chan was not going to point that out.
“Good,” he said instead, aiming for a smile.
Felix showed him his teeth in return.
Chan deliberately turned away from Felix, leaving himself wide open for an attack as he walked over to the heart tree. Without any ornamental armour to weigh him down, it was easy to kneel. The face carved into the weirwood stared back at him, bleeding red sap down the white bark.
A part of him waited for the sound of footsteps, either fast approaching in his direction or quickly running away, but it seemed that Felix didn’t know what he wanted to do. Or maybe he just wanted to watch.
Chan wouldn’t persuade him to do either.
He merely placed one hand against the bark of the tree and lowered his head. He strained his ears for any whispered words of guidance, maybe in the forms of the wind rustling the leaves, or sticks cracking deeper in the forest. All that he heard was the sound of a single step, then another, and then a body settled next to his. Chan opened his eyes to find a delicate hand pressing against the bark next to his own.
“Is this how you pray?”
Felix wasn’t looking at him as he asked. He was looking at the heart tree. Chan tried not to get lost in the thought of how close they were, how Felix was stealing his breath again with how beautiful he was. This close, Chan could make out the finer details of his face, the arch of his brow and the sharp cut of his jaw.
Purple eyes met his own and he swallowed. “It is.”
Felix smiled. Not at him, he was looking at the tree again, but it left Chan speechless all the same. Felix was beautiful, but when he smiled he looked otherworldly.
“Do they listen? Your gods?”
Chan couldn’t help but chuckle. “Do your gods listen to you?”
Felix earnestly contemplated this for a moment before he shrugged. “I wouldn’t know. I haven’t asked them for anything.”
Chan nodded. He supposed that made sense. What need did a person like Felix have for the gods’ opinion when he was bonded to a creature mightier than all others?
He expected their conversation to end there, for Felix to get up and leave because what Chan was doing must have been boring to him, but he didn’t. He stayed right where he was.
“What are you asking them for?”
It was a simple question. One Chan should have expected, really. Yet, he couldn’t help but marvel at the genuine curiosity in Felix’s eyes. He couldn’t help but feel grateful at finally being regarded with something other than derision by Felix.
“Guidance,” he answered truthfully. “I’m asking the gods for guidance so I will not lead my people astray.”
Felix hummed, a deep, rich sound. “You should accept my brother’s offer then.”
The way he said it was so nonchalant, as if it had nothing to do with him. As if it wasn’t him Chan was going to marry if he said yes.
“Is that really what you want?”
Felix snorted. “I’m not the one being asked.”
Chan frowned. “ I am asking you. Do you want me to wed you? Is that why you’ve come here?”
Felix showed him his teeth again. Chan couldn’t tell whether it was supposed to be a smile or a grimace. He couldn’t have guessed Felix’s next words even if he’d tried.
“There were four guards stationed at the gate to these woods instead of the usual two. It made me curious. I wanted to know what could be so dear to you that you’re affording it twice as many guards as everything else, including the doors to your own chamber. That’s why I came here.”
Chan’s breath caught in his throat. How did Felix know how many guards were on rotation? How did Felix know how many guards were in front of his door? Just how much, exactly, was Felix paying attention to while Chan tried so hard not to look at him?
“As for your other question…” Felix stared at the crying face carved into the heart tree. “I want you to say yes.”
Chan exhaled deeply. He didn’t know why that single lie hurt him more than anything else Felix had said.
His own voice sounded foreign to his ears when he said, “In that case, I’m sorry to say that I have already rejected your brother’s offer.”
Felix’s face didn’t change. He reached out to touch the bloody red sap, as if to wipe the tree’s tears. “So I heard.”
Chan expected Felix to finally get up, to let their conversation end there, but Felix didn’t. He remained kneeling right next to Chan, even if several long moments passed before he spoke again.
“Am I not to your liking?”
Chan spluttered. “What? Why would you think that?”
“The last king begged for an alliance like ours, you know?” Felix sniffed. “He would have been very grateful to be offered my hand.”
“I’m…” …grateful, Chan couldn’t say, because was he? Was he grateful to be offered a pretty price for his kingdom? He didn’t want to lie to Felix. “I’m sorry if I offended you.”
Felix huffed. “I’m not offended.”
“Of course.” Chan cleared his throat.
He didn’t think he could have heard the gods even if they’d yelled in his ear at that moment. His head was too full of Felix. It was embarrassing how out of his depth he was.
“Is there anything I can do to make it up to you? My, uh, my non-offense?”
Felix looked at him as if Chan was little more than dragon dung. It hurt him when it shouldn’t have. Here Chan was, sitting next to a man who was clearly plotting against him, and yet all he wanted was for Felix to smile at him again.
Felix seemed to know this, allowing him a flash of teeth. “I already told you what I want.”
Chan could do nothing but shake his head. “It is not a wish I can grant you, even…even if you are lovely.”
The gods answered his prayer. Felix smiled at him again. Really, he looked like he was happy when he leaned forward, right into Chan’s space.
“You’ll change your mind soon enough, Bang Chan,” there was a certain level of satisfaction with which Felix said the rest of his title, “Wolf of Winter, King in the North.”
“I am the King in the North,” Chan felt something inside him harden at the reminder, “and because of it, you have to believe me when I tell you that the North will not subjugate itself to the whims of your brother.”
Felix outright laughed at him. “My brother wants your fealty so he’s going to have it. Whether it’s you, or the one that comes after you—” Chan froze up at the thought of Jeongin. “—the North will bend the knee like all others.”
The finality with which Felix spoke made Chan’s hackles rise. “You speak like things are already decided.”
“Are they not?”
“No.”
Felix’s smile widened. It made him look scarily similar to his brother. The gods tossed a coin every time a dragonlord was born, Chan remembered, deciding between greatness and madness. He didn’t dare think too much about which side Felix leaned towards.
“It is true what they say about you, Bang Chan.”
“And what is it that they say about me?”
Felix no longer looked at him like he was dragon dung. “They say you’re a true-born son of North. That you are as stubborn as a block of ice, but not as harsh as the winter winds. They say you are going to be a great king.”
Despite himself, Chan felt himself soften. “I hope to see the day.”
What Felix said in return, he did not say in the common tongue so Chan had no chance of understanding him. All he had to go off of was the look in Felix’s eyes, burning like a thousand wild fires.
Chan looked at the weirwood tree to escape it, even if he knew it was far too late for that.
He was caught.
Chan didn’t know what else to say, but Felix seemed content to just sit and watch him. Maybe he was imagining all the ways in which he could’ve flayed Chan alive. Maybe he was imagining the spectacle it would’ve been if he had fed Chan to his dragon.
However much dragonfire he seemed to carry inside himself, Felix’s body turned out to be human. It took several minutes, but then he started squirming. Chan thought Felix was angry at first, but then it happened again and again. Belatedly, Chan realised why Felix had spent the past minute sniffling.
“Here.” He quickly took off the fur coat he was wearing and draped it over Felix’s shoulders. “I’m sorry. I should have remembered that you’re not used to the cold.”
Felix looked like he had some choice words for Chan at having realised so late, but he swallowed them all in favour of wrapping Chan’s coat around his shivering limbs, pressing his face into the soft fur lining. He spent a good minute like this, rubbing his face all along the collar in a way that reminded Chan of the kittens Jeongin had found in the stables the year before. That was, until Felix suddenly lifted his head.
“What about you?”
Chan shrugged, feeling a little sheepish. “I’m used to the cold. It doesn’t bother me much.”
Felix glared at him as if he was accusing Chan of lying, but then he shrugged it off, focussing back on rubbing the feeling back into his face.
Chan rose to his feet, offering Felix his hand. “Come. I’ll take you back to the castle. The fires in the great hall are never put out so it’ll be warm in there.”
Felix looked up at him, purple eyes narrowing in suspicion, but he took Chan’s hand. His fingers were icy cold so Chan wrapped his warmer hand around them. As they made their way out of the godswood, Chan kept holding onto Felix’s hand only because it was the right thing to do.
He wouldn’t have wanted the dragon prince to get frostburn.
He wasn’t sure how quickly dragonfire could melt ice after all.