Chapter Text
A cowardice snake pursues his vulnerable prey while a humble fool watches. “What is it doing?” The fool asks as the coward presses forward, silent like dandelion petals lost in the wind. Closer and closer the snake draws while his prey becomes weaker, bleeding from a deep wound befallen by the fool. Though, when the snake bites, he does not snap at his prey. As the snake hisses, fleeing from his failure, one man falls. With his last words before rest, the fool softly debates,”Why did I save my enemy?”
Xander found himself awake to a floral scent. Though his head was throbbing, unbeknownst to himself, the scent was distinct yet foreign. As the young prince studied his surroundings, it appeared to him the lavishing room was a guest room of sorts, but nothing reminded him of his homeland, Nohr. From freshly polished furniture to simple yet possibly brittle walls, much like material seen in an ancient foundation, what caught his eye was the doorway in front of him. It was a paper like sliding door. Xander knew the name to this styled door, yet his mind was ill at ease. Of course, this did not stop the determined prince.
As Xander thought, his mind began to race with various words: flush, bamboo-jute, silhouette. None of these names quite fit this style of door, yet he could not place a just name to it. Alas, his mind would allow for no more thought provoking conundrums. For the Nohrian royal, the room had begun to spin out of control, forcing him to shut his eyes tightly. Taking in a deep breath, Xander held the breath in his lungs for a second before slowly releasing his air back into the room. It helped calm his mind a bit.
How did I wind up in this foreign land? That was the new question in Xander’s mind. While his eyes stayed shut, the prince replayed the events before he blacked out, as few memories as they were. A long lasting duel with Ryouma, a sudden rush behind his foe, and chilling pain in his left side: those were the extent of his mix matched memories. Xander sighed at his lack of a clear connection to the events. All the crown prince knew for sure was that someone had struck him, but that did not explain why he was currently in a foreign land.
As time grew, the room seized to spin. In his dizziness’ absence, Xander could feel a dull pain in his side where he remembered being stabbed before. Though his body ached, the prince knew nothing would be solved so long as he laid in bed. The Nohrian made an attempt to sit up until a striking pain forced him against the firm, cool bed once again. The sudden action caused Xander to yelp as his breathing immediately became heavy. His hands instinctively gripped his wounded side.
Sweat slowly dripped from Xander’s head, through his flowing blonde locks, and into the absorbent pillow beneath his head. Movement made his pain excruciating, so checking outside of this room was no longer an option. As his pain slowly lessoned with time, Xander’s breathing equally shallowed. Again, the refreshing scent of something floral tingled through the air he breathed. The smell was subtle and hardly present, but it certainly was not the air surrounding Nohr which was normally very dense and muggy.
Then, an epiphany erupted in Xander’s mind. It was certainly an answer, but one rather unsettling to the Nohrian prince. The air held an artificial scent, yet one likely produced to symbolize the culture of this land’s nation. That meant that Xander was currently in some form of important building where this symbolization mattered, though currently residing in a guest room would suggest this is a place where a select number of people would call home. The decadent atmosphere suggested a home of those with wealth. Even though Xander had never smelled this flower before, he was rather certain it was supposed to represent cherry blossoms, flowers lacking an impactful scent.
Shōji. Xander’s sapphire eyes darted to the door in front of him as he finally remembered the name he had forgotten moments ago. While often common separately, cherry blossoms and shōji together were well known characteristics inhabiting one nation alone: Hoshido. Disbelief quickly turned to sudden realization, yet there was something the prince still could not understand. Being in the current home of his enemy, wounded or not, general imprisonment meant some form of restraints to ensure the prisoner would not escape as well as a cell of sorts. Why was he not restrained or at least in a dungeon?
Though, maybe visible restraints were not necessary. In Xander’s current condition, he could not defend himself, let alone get out of bed. He was at the mercy of Hoshido. The question now was what Hoshido ventured to gain from his existence in their nation. If leverage was the goal, it was a goal short lived as Xander’s father would never abide to any sort of trade, even at the cost of his crown son’s life. If they wanted intel, that was yet another dead end. The crown prince of Nohr would serve his country to his grave.
As much as Xander dreaded this meeting to come, especially in his wounded state, the Nohrian royal drew his focus toward footsteps closing in. They were heavy and dense but held a slow paced rhythm, which meant only one person would enter. A second symphony of noise accompanied the low rumblings, much higher pitches than the last. This sound was some sort of clinging though one rather familiar to the crown prince. It was that of a sword slapping its barings with every set of footsteps. Only two Hoshidan royals chose to enter battle with a sword in hand. As the footsteps grew to a halt, Xander kept his eyes plastered to the doorway as he questioned who would enter: Sumeragi, Hoshido’s current king, or Ryouma, the King’s first born?
Though one of the two men Xander knew it would be, the young man’s appearance was foreign to his Nohrian eyes. Hoshidan casual attire called for a unisex kimono while in Nohr a simple button up shirt and slacks would suffice. Sporting a vibrant red kimono, accented in white with golden ties, was none other than the prince of Hoshido himself. The kimono represented his family crest, two golden, equal-armed crosses woven into the upper half of the crown princes kimono on either side of his chest. With a freshly drawn hakama baring the prince’s priced sword Rajinto, Ryouma wore pure white tabi socks and setta sandals to match, but his signature hair cascading below his knees was tied loosely with a red velvet ribbon.
As Ryouma entered the room, an immediate tension leveled the atmosphere. Both princes kept their eyes locked onto the other as Ryouma made his way toward Xander. Hoshido’s crown prince casually strolled to the far end of the room where a wooden chair Xander had not noticed before awaited. After picking up the fraile chair by its backing, Ryouma brought it closer to the bed Xander was currently enslaved to. The short yet burly man set the chair down, backing toward Xander, and proceeded to sit down in a way most would consider backwards. Resting both arms on the top of said chair, Ryouma spoke to relieve the air,”What are you gawking at?”
“It is a toss up between your dress or lackadaisical nature at the moment.”
“Says the man disinclined to a bed...and it's a kimono.”
Their short conversation lead to nothing, as most diplomatic conferences do. Through bleak air, both royals now chose to keep their vision apart, awaiting the other to speak. Being in a foreign land made Xander distressed though Ryouma was much more strayed from a question that had been bothering him for three days; the question that had erupted from a conflict abstrucking the duel of two royals. On his way to the guest room both men inhabited, Ryouma thought of multiple ways to word his question, yet sitting here now, in front of the enemy who saved his life mere days ago, not a one of those questions came to mind. All the Hoshidan prince could manage to ask was,”Why?”
The question caught Xander off guard. Why what? He chose to remain silent instead of answering. The room grew still again, a familiar feeling both men came to know quickly. Ryouma broke the silence again with a more defined inquiry,“Why did you stop your ally from finishing me? You had the prime opportunity to-”
“Do not align me with that snake or the cowardice action he failed to accomplish.”
While Xander scowled at the thought of Iago, his father’s most trusted advisor, his defensive nature was truely drawn from his lack of understanding to the situation entirely. The matter of the fact was that he did miss an opportunity. Whether it lead to Ryouma’s death or capture, it was a Nohrian loss nonetheless, and one he would get backlash from if he ever made it home. Iago surely made his assassination attempt seem like Xander was a complete traitor. At this point, Xander was not sure if he could persuade Garon to believe anything but treachery on his part which meant he would have to return home with a decent case to sway his father’s judgement. Even worse, this fiasco threw him in enemy hands with a severe wound of his own. As events had past unfolded, Xander could not help but contemplate where his loyalty truly lied.
Though, Xander was not the only one contemplating this same situation. In truth, it had been on Ryouma’s mind since the incident first occurred. Never once had an enemy acted so rash, a Nohrian no less. After years of a feud between nations, this was the first act of humanity either side had shown the other. Regardless, after three days of this weighing on his mind, Ryouma’s patience had grown thin,”Answer the question.”
At this moment, it would have been easy to lie or retort with a smart-ass comment, but what would that lead to? More useless bantering or Xander being thrown in their dungeon; probably both to be fair. In either case, they were all situations the Nohrian Prince wished to avoid, but did he really have an answer as to why he acted so out of character? In truth, none came to mind, yet that would surely upset Ryouma more. Xander let out a small sigh before speaking,”It was mere instinct and nothing more. That duel should have ended with one of our blades, not that of a third party’s.”
“For once, I’d have to agree with you.”
“Send word to a trader. This will surely make news.”
Firsts were continuing to present themselves today. Though against their will, Ryouma let out a snort, and Xander smirked. If circumstances had been different, maybe these two could have been friends fighting side by side in a war against a common enemy. Though, through circumstances, anything is possible.
Of course, neither man had room to show their endearing nature. The room settled with daft air as both princes frowned. Ryouma stood with a loud exhale. He set the frail, wooden chair in its original location before heading toward the door for a swift exit.
“What are you planning to do with me?”
Ryouma paused with his hand against the sliding door,”In truth, I’m not sure.”
The Hoshidan royal left immediately after speaking, contemplating his most recent conversation. While he thought it would bring him closure, it did just the opposite. Though for Xander, he was met with even more questions toward what his future would behold. What neither prince could foretell was how dependent on one another their lives would soon become.