Silbermond und Honigwein

71. Misery

"Seonghwa?"

A sigh got muffled in Seonghwa's hands. The elf had buried his face in them to shield his strained eyes from the light and their exhaustion. When they traced down his cheeks so he could look up, he exposed the dark circles under his eyes.

Hongjoong closed the flap of the tent so no sunlight would reach the tormented prince. Gratitude washed over Seonghwa, but it was soon replaced by the prior dread.

"Any news from the front? They said more attacks hailed upon our civilians and my father is rushing for reinforcements."

Hongjoong shrugged. He had dragged Seonghwa away from Yeosang, where he insisted on holding him and have an eye on the dryad at all times. By the time Yeosang wound himself because he felt stifled, the sorcerer separated them for some space. Instead, he demanded Seonghwa to rest on his cot. Not that he could. The war around them haunted him.

"I am not your admiral. I wouldn't know."

Of course, he knew. Hongjoong knew it all. And he knew for the anguish in Seonghwa's heart, which was the reason for his silence.

Seonghwa rubbed his temples. A migraine throbbed behind his eyes and he felt stifled in the armour he had to wear in case of an emergency.

When the elf sunk into his ball of despair once more, the sorcerer left the entrance. His boots crossed the soft grass to come to kneel before Seonghwa. Gentle hands pried apart the fingers worrying his skin.

Their eyes met: gold and amethyst. Both were dulled with the dread of their crisis, but the former lacked their usual sparkle.

Hongjoong's brows drew together. This time, the tables reversed. Seonghwa wasn't the one to tend to his husbands' every whim. They had become pillars of strength by his side.

"Do you need me to be your husband right now or your strategist?" Hongjoong asked. There was nothing Seonghwa could do at this moment. They waited for the path to the northern village to clear so Seonghwa could visit the wounded victims of the dryads' attacks. Until their scouts returned with news, they had to sit in wait.

Seonghwa struggled. His duty mandated him to show no vulnerability and to strive assuredly for their victory while spilling as little blood as possible. On the other hand, Hongjoong knelt before him with understanding eyes, and he offered the private solace Seonghwa needed to drop the facade.

War was dreadful. Being the sole commanding voice over a camp was dreadful. Not having his father to hide behind anymore was dreadful.

Seonghwa gave in, if just for a few moments. Just as his father had his entourage and his close friends to support his back, Seonghwa had his husbands with him.

"I need you as my husband." His voice was small, afraid of showing weakness, of being perceived as unworthy of a crown prince.

But Hongjoong knew. Hongjoong had shown him his fragile heart, so he accepted Seonghwa's with the same compassion. When he stood to wrap Seonghwa into his embrace, the elf sunk into him with a shuddering breath. The hug eased the burden on his shoulders and he could breathe again to bask in Hongjoong's scent. Ever so mysterious, the herbs and smoke clinging to the sorcerer made Seonghwa's head spin in a good way.

They stayed like that for as long as Seonghwa needed. By the time he shyly untucked himself from Hongjoong because voices drew near outside, he felt much better.

"Thank you," he whispered.

With a warm chuckle, Hongjoong tucked a strand of Seonghwa's hair behind his ear. He withdrew when the admiral announced himself.