I'd let u press on my wounds just to feel a bit of warmth.
Stuck in the battlegrounds, years passed—one year, two years, three, four... They slipped by until Baldwin had run out of fingers to count. Nights felt like the North Pole, and days like vengeful mist; Baldwin could only hope for his own death. Over the years, his health had deteriorated significantly, and he had fought more battles than he could remember. Although his kingdom deemed him unworthy, he was the greatest warrior to lead their troops to victory. If not for him, perhaps the kingdom would have been lost long ago, stricken down to its grave, demolished, vaporized.
His father, now “blessed” with two children, had seemingly already chosen the next heir to the throne. How easy it was to replace him! Even the dinners they shared felt like blank canvases, with every insult hurled by his so-called “siblings” stinging like burning ink. He yearned to return to his kingdom, to breathe the familiar air, touch the green trees he had planted, and drink from the crystal-clear fountains.
He could always fight against his father; after all, the army had practically turned to him. But what was the use? He would rather wage wars, hoping one day to be struck down by a rival. Ah, what a wonderful day that would be. Baldwin had forgotten what he even looked like. As tradition dictated, it was crucial to wear metal calcified masks every time their nation went to war, but deep down he knew it was because he couldn't bear to see his own distorted face. His beauty had been unmatched, a reflection of his mother’s grace. Ah, how he would hate for her to see him today.
It was yet another day when Baldwin was sent to lead a battle. Even in his sickly condition, they couldn't spare him, could they? The Battle of Dustfall, as they called it, had lasted four long days, and by the end, Baldwin felt like a puppet with loose strings, dangling aimlessly. He was just about to gather his troops when suddenly a burst of flags appeared on the horizon.
“HOLD YOUR POSITIONS! I FEAR AN UNKNOWN ENEMY!”
“Hear, hear, my lord!”
Oh no, not this. The flags... were they from Evaaslevath?! The greatest kingdom in the entire nation, where the sacred scroll was rumored to be! The one that could conquer the entire continent with a single breath.
“Ah, how doomed we are,” Baldwin thought.
Emerald eyes met his as the dust settled. The horses behind this man felt like an unending tide, and the strength of the army was unmatched.
“Fall back, my lord... it’s... it’s King Orion,” his general urged. Baldwin's army was stricken to their core; both running and standing still meant immediate death.
“Don’t worry, General. Let me handle it.” In truth, Baldwin was terrified. Holy shit, even if he wasn't the sacred scroll, the power this man held was beyond his reach—perhaps even beyond the universe's grasp.
“I, Prince Baldwin of Yetenheim, recently victorious in the battle against Vorhastrath, stands before you, Commander of Evaaslevath! What reason is there to stand opposed?”
King Orion tilted his head, a hint of amusement playing on his lips. Never before had he seen such a defiant man, even with his army quivering on their knees.
“Fall back, or I must be compelled to engage in hostility,” Prince Baldwin’s voice came sharp and cutting.
“My, my, how defensive! Don’t scream so loudly; you may damage your beautiful vocal cords, Goldilocks,” King Orion spoke with a smirk.
It was no secret the temper that Baldwin held; damn it, he even fought the flies when they sucked his fruit. You can imagine what this man did to him. Never before seen in any conflict, Prince Baldwin suddenly jumped down from his horse and pushed Orion down to head level. “Hold! It’s okay,” Orion held his army back, amused.
Baldwin held his neck and drew his dagger. “Our nations have an agreement; it shall be fulfilled, or I must give my dying breath trying to preserve what I have left. And remember, I’m not afraid to give my life away.”
Ah, how beautiful his grey eyes were, How badly did Orion want to take off his mask and what a beautiful hint of sadness filled his dull tinkering orbs. Oh, how he wanted to make him his.
They were neck to neck when Baldwin's hands started quivering. Great, his sickness was about to get him killed. His eyes fluttered as his toes lost balance, breath shuddering.
King Orion was taken aback, realizing the concerning situation. He silently backed away and seated Baldwin back on his horse. “We shall talk in private!”
Their horses met in the midst of the desert, and Orion promised to pull back. Baldwin gestured thankfully. “I shall send you my physicians,'' Orion urged.
“No need,” his smile could be felt through his mask, and all Orion could feel was his heart skipping beats, he could not bear to leave him alone in this frail body and yet, he was compelled to leave. He vowed to meet him again, and guess what? There he was, at his kingdom, on coronation day—aka the worst day of his life, aka his brother's coronation, aka please let me cry in peace, why's this black haired enderman here to make my goddamn day worse bruv!!