The Gifts We Share [A Medieval AU]

Chapter Forty-Six - A Rocky Start

A week flies by in what feels like minutes. Seán's announcement about taking back Rubellus is met by surprisingly positive feedback, with some citizens and employees (including Ethan) sharing their stories about the kingdom and the conqueror. The staff are more than willing to help with preparations, and after Mark requests Grá as his steed and Seán reminds him to wear his crown for once, a caravan is heading out of Viride. Mark and Seán ride at the front, side by side.

"I can't believe we're actually doing this," Seán breathes. "This is insane, right?"

"Yes indeed." Mark glances at him with a grin. "Insane but necessary."

"You make me do crazy things, Fischbach."

"Ah, but you love me anyway."

Seán rolls his eyes, a smile gracing his face. "That I do."

They ride all day, only stopping when it's too dark for them to see anything. The knights and travelling servants set up the tents hastily, and Mark and Seán collapse into bed the moment their temporary shelter is complete.

"Have I ever been this tired?" Mark asks, curling himself around the king. "I don't think so."

"Hush, love," Seán murmurs, resting his face in the crook of the prince's neck.  "Sleep." 

Just as the king is starting to drift off, Mark's body tenses against Seán's. The royal shakes off the sleepiness as fast as he can, worry gripping his heart. He places a hand gently on Mark's shoulder and meets the prince's eyes, which are filled with panic. His muscles grow more rigid by the second as he curls up more and more.

"If I have a nightmare, everyone will hear me," Mark states, his breathing growing more shallow. "They'll know I'm weak and there will be mass mutiny-"

Seán runs a hand around his waist, maintaining eye contact as he rubs circles into his back. "Hey, I'm right here. Shh."

"Seán-"

"I'll calm you down before anyone can hear you, okay? You're going to be just fine."

Mark nods a few times, pressing his forehead against Seán's shoulder. "Okay. Sorry. Just... started thinking and my mind spiralled."

"I know, I know. Try to sleep. I'm right here."

Mark takes a deep breath, wrapping himself around the king again. Seán returns to the crook of Mark's neck, sighing heavily and letting his eyes fall shut.

The next morning, Mark is woken up by Seán gently shaking his shoulder. He opens his eyes slowly, groaning at the very idea of moving, and tries to make out his surroundings. The tent is still dark, and upon seeing the silhouette of a man, he tenses and flinches away from the hand on his shoulder.

Kidnapper. Kidnapper. Hide, hide, hide, Mark's brain screams.

His action is immediately followed by a curse in Irish. "Sorry, Mark. I forgot," Seán apologizes, pulling his hand away. "I'll get some light. Hold on."

Mark takes a few deep breaths, his heart racing. It's just Seán, it's just Seán... The king moves about the room, looking for a candle, and stops talking. Mark curls himself into a tight ball, growing closer and closer to a full-on panic attack.

"Keep talking. Please, Seán. K-keep talking. The accent... they w-weren't Irish, Seán..." Mark pleads. "Or I need you w-with me. Either one."

"Okay, um..." Seán pauses for a moment before exhaling heavily. "Our plan is to head out a bit earlier than usual so that after we set up camp, we have time for a swordsmanship lesson."

Mark takes a deep breath, focusing on the sound of the king's accent as he starts rambling about trees and grass and the sky. Nearby a candle is lit, the flames illuminating the king's pale skin and green hair. Mark exhales shakily, relief starting to seep into his bones. Seán is there, not some kidnapper. He's completely safe here in this tent. Slowly, he sits upright and lets his feet dangle off the bed, keeping his gaze on Seán's face.

"Come here?" Mark asks.

"Of course," Seán replies. He strides over, setting his candle down on the side table. The moment he does, Mark reaches up and pulls him closer gently. The king's scent helps to ground him even further, and he soon relaxes completely against Seán.

"Are you okay?" Seán asks quietly.

Mark nods, the bridge of his nose still firmly pressed against the side of the royal's throat. "Yeah, I'm o-okay now."

"That's good. We want to head out soon."

Mark nods again and Seán pulls himself up, reaching out to the prince in order to help him up. After a moment of hesitation, Mark takes his hand with a squeeze. Seán squeezes back before lifting the candle once again.

"I'll get dressed," Mark says with a glance down at his pyjamas.

Seán leans in, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. "Good idea. I'll be outside when you're ready."