Chapter Text
Tine grew up in a household where the royal family’s portraits were mounted on the wall only out sheer necessity - if any castle guards decided to do a random inspection, they would pass as a family loyal to the crown. But the truth was that Tine’s parents had always encouraged him to question authority, albeit in a discreet and quiet rebellion.
His family was middle class and he was the son of a blacksmith that was proud of the weapons and tools he produced. While Tine wasn’t exactly interested in how to create the wares that kept the roof above his head, he loved the power that the items possessed. Specifically, he loved the way that the swords his father created crashed and clanged together.
Tine thanked the Gods that his older brother, Type, was ready to take over the family business. While it meant Type inherited the storefront and the craft of black-smithery, it gave Tine the freedom to explore and forge his own career path.
Since he was very young, all that Tine wanted to be was a squire to a knight. He was not delusional enough to aspire to be a knight; a birthright was required to ascend to such a position and Tine knew damn well there wasn’t any lordship in his family tree. This didn’t dismay him though. He didn’t want the glory or the title of the fight, he just wanted to be on the playing field, in the middle of the ruckus.
Tine trained with his best friend, Ohm, and Ohm’s father who was a retired squire himself. He had fought next to the king in the last battle and assisted many other knight’s of high positions during his career and Tine looked up to him and considered every word that the man spoke as sacred.
Ohm was quite disinterested in their training but made a point of putting in some effort to that Tine didn’t leave him completely bruised and bloody after every sword match. They had grown up training together and knew each other’s moves as if they were each other’s shadow. They were as close as true kin and while Ohm did not necessarily share Tine’s passion for his future as a squire, he played along enough to keep his father off his back.
Tine’s family had been wary at first when he announced his career intentions as the ripe age of thirteen but after five years of intense training, he had the blessing of his father to pursue the career he had always dreamt about. On his eighteen birthday, Tine’s father presented him with something that Tine would treasure most out of any of his earthly possessions: his very own sword.
The sword had a hilt that was specifically designed to fit in Tine’s grasp and was perfectly balanced to help with his fighting style. When his father passed the sword to him for the first time, tears had sprung to Tine’s eyes and he knew officially that he was ready with his father’s approval to go after his dream.
Every spring the kingdom hosted Squiring trials in the heart of the castle ground for the kingdom at large. Knights from near and far would attend, hoping to find the best, most eager fresh squires to assist them on their missions. It was that very spring that Ohm and Tine would attend their first trials, hoping to be selected by one of the honourable knights.
The morning of the first day of the trials, Tine woke with a start and his stomach clenched with nerves. He had never been inside of the castle walls before and he was more than ready to see how the other side lived. He dressed quickly in his simple armour and placed the sword that his father had forged for him in his belt. His mother had prepared a delicious and hearty spread for his breakfast but Tine could only pick at it.
Tine was enveloped in a strong hug by each of his family members. His father held on the longest and Tine couldn’t but feel inspired by the support that was surrounding him. His family was not permitted to attend the trials as they were commoners so they would have to wait until the end of each day to know the result.
Ohm was waiting just outside of Tine’s family home, leaning lethargically against a post. He munched absentmindedly on an apple and then fed the core to his horse before noticing Tine. “Good morning. Are you ready?”
Tine chuckled at just how disinterested his best friend seemed. “Good to go. Where is your father?”
“He went ahead to meet with the other former squires.” Ohm explained as he began to mount his horse. Tine prepared his own horse before climbing on its back. “They have their own viewing area for the trials but he’s rooting for us.”
The journey to the castle gate was not very long, in fact, Tine secretly wished it was longer. His heart raced as they looked upon the large stones that made up the outer wall of the fortress that housed the royal family. It would be the first time in a long while that Tine saw the royal family in person…
“Hey”
A voice called out and caught Tine’s attention as he finished filling up the water bucket his mother had requested he filled for their evening bath. Tine was so startled by the unexpected interruption that the bucket spilled from his fingers and spilled over the cobblestones and soaked his shoes.
Tine furrowed his brow in frustration and glared up at the person that had caused the accident. His breath was violently pulled from his lungs when he realized who was addressing him.
“My prince.” Tine quickly bent down on one knee and ducked his head in apology.
The prince cocked his head to the side in amusement and knelt down to pick up the fallen bucket. Tine watched in fascination as the prince tugged on the rusty handle of the water spout and pumped water until the bucket was full again.
Tine had only ever seen Prince Sarawat in the portraits on his family home’s walls and had always been drawn to the prince’s fierce gaze. Tine was shocked to see that the gaze the prince was famous for was nowhere to be found and instead a fond smile graced his lips as he held the brimming bucket out toward Tine.
His head reeling with confusion, Tine slowly rose to his feet and took the bucket from the prince. Their fingertips brushed during the exchange and Tine thought it might be a sign of good luck to touch a royal, and, without thinking, intertwined his fingers with Sarawat’s.
“Uh…” The prince muttered, an anxious look in his eyes. “Can I get my hand back, please?”
“Sorry, my grace.” Tine pulled his hand away from the prince’s and scolded himself for the under thought action. “I just thought that you your touch might bring my family or my future a blessing.”
“I’m just a human, you know.” Sarawat stated plainly, a hint of frustration in his voice as the fierce gaze stretched across his face. “I thought you were different. That’s why I came over here but, I guess you’re just like the rest.”
The prince turned and Tine felt shame spreading through him. Their interaction was over before it even began. No one would believe him if he told them the story of the prince, he thought, as he walked the long way home from the town centre. No one would believe that the Prince would see something in him and then retracted the thought so he never shared the story with anyone.
Horns signalling the beginning of the trials shocked Tine back into attention, the memory of his one interaction with royalty lingering in his mind. Ohm nudged his friend and mouthed, “Are you okay?”
Tine nodded at Ohm reassuringly as the castle gates swung open, inviting all the squire candidates to enter for the specific occasion. Tine and Ohm dismounted their horses upon entering the castle gate and passed them off to people they assumed to be castle servants.
They were lead by a knight into one of the outer castle yards where a makeshift arena had been arranged. The stands were full of knights that they could potentially be paired with, members of the royal court and on a high stand stood the royal family, sitting on their four thrones: The King, The Queen, Prince Phukong and finally, Prince Sarawat.
The prince wore emerald green robes that brought made the intense colour of his eyes even more prominent than the last time Tine had seen him. They were both much older now, having ten years past since their meeting in the town centre. Tine’s breath hitched at the passing thought of the Prince possibly recognizing him but abandoned it quickly.
“Potential squires.” The King stood to his feet and addressed the crowd. “Members of the court, knights from all across the realm, some of our retired squires and most importantly, my family, we are here today to witness the Squire trials. Good luck to all the candidates and remember, even if you aren’t selected this year, please come back next spring.”
The crowd erupted with cheers and, just like that, the trials began. The knight that led them into the castle grounds split all the candidates into small sparring groups. Each squire was given an opponent and a wooden stick. The aim was to knock the opponent’s stick out of their hands and whoever won moved onto the next round of the trials.
Tine faced off against his opponent, a big and muscly looking young man, and circled in a defensive position. The stranger lunged at him and struck forward. Tine easily dodged the attack by ducking out of the way and as he moved back up to his feet, swiftly knocked his opponent’s stick to the ground. It was over in a matter of seconds. His attacker looked at Tine, dumbfounded, but was quickly swept off the field to make way for new partners. Tine barely had a chance to feel proud of his accomplishment.
Half of the crowd of candidates disappeared during the first round. Tine was relieved to see that Ohm remained amongst the thinning few that remained. Ohm, while disinterested in training, was a natural born fighter. It was in his blood so Tine was not too worried about his friend’s success in the trials.
The next round challenged the candidates to a test of wits as they were presented with an iron box that concealed an item that the head knight claimed that they needed to retrieve to advance successfully to the next round.
Tine examined the box slowly as the candidates surrounding him took to hacking away at the thing with their swords and other weapons. He had spent much time in his father’s workshop and while he had never been particularly interested in his father’s work, he admired just how passionate his father was for intricate craftsmanship. Tine turned the perplexing box over and over in his hands until he spotted a line in the design. He traced it with his fingers until he found that one of the corners of the box was much weaker than the rest. He placed the box on the ground before pressing the tip of his sword into the corner. At first nothing happened but after attempting a few different angles, the box popped open.
The crowd erupted with cheering as the item was revealed: a key. Tine retrieved it quickly and looked up to see that he was the first to accomplish the feat. The crowds cheering made his heart race with exhilaration but he knew that he needed to remain humble. He slowly turned toward the King who was surprised to find studying him with intensity. But that wasn’t what made the breath escape from Tine’s lungs: Prince Sarawat was looking at him with something that resembled interest as a smirk spread across his lips.
Tine tore his gaze away from the royal family and re-focused. Slowly, more and more candidates successfully opened their boxes, each finding a key of their own. Ohm was among the next few to retrieve the key and once he had, he made his way over to Tine with a grin spread across his lips.
“This isn’t so bad, is it?” Ohm asked.
“Don’t jinx us so early.” Tine muttered, as he was ever suspicious.
“Trust your training.” Ohm reassured him and clapped a steady hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I believe in you.”
Before Tine could share his appreciation for his friend’s words, the horn signally the next round’s start echoed through the arena. A set of burly looking knights brought a collection of odd-shaped cases out onto the field. “Each key has a coordinating lock. Find the lock, find your weapon and find your opponent. You will know your opponent as you both will have the same weapon. First one to fall will be disqualified. Go!”
The slew of young men advanced upon the cases, desperate to be the first to find their weapon. Tine snaked through the crowd swiftly, trying each lock with his key. Finally, after six attempts, a lock sprung open to reveal his intended weapon: a lute.
Tine took up the instrument with utter confusion. The strings sparkled under the hot sun, refracting the light of the afternoon into Tine’s eyes. He squinted and contemplated the absurdity of the situation but was humbled when he saw the rest of the young men around him had the same predicament at hand. They were meant to face off with items that were beyond the conventional definition of ‘weapon’.
Tine wielded the thing as if it was the sword he father had made for him and spotted another candidate with a lute in his hands. Tine advanced upon the young stranger and coughed to catch his attention. Tine was always in favour of a fair fight. His opponent didn’t seem to agree.
A flash of a discreetly concealed knife appeared from his opponent’s pants pocket. The young man smirked slyly, keeping the knife hidden behind the instrument but it didn’t make it any less lethal. They began to circle each other in a fighting stance, each stepping one foot across the other before his opponent advanced upon him with a raging cry.
Tine decided that if his opponent was going to play dirty, he might as well too. As soon as the man got close enough to get a proper stab in, Tine moved the neck of the lute in front of his opponent’s feet and his opponent clumsily tripped over it and fell face down into the dirt.
“Disqualified!”
Tine had made it. All the blood, sweat, tears and exhaustion that he had put into his training over the years had finally paid off. He had survived the first day of the Squire Trials and that was more than he could've asked for when he entered the castle gates that morning.
At the end of the day, there were fifteen young candidates left on the field, each more exhausted than the first. Tine and Ohm exchanged a relieved look between them before the horns that signalled the beginning of the first selection ceremony sounded across the arena. The crowd became silent as the King stood to his feet, ready for whatever announcement he was about to make.
“As per tradition, I will make the first selection for my eldest son, Prince Sarawat.” The King announced, a mighty tremor to his voice. “The Squire that will work by my son’s side during his knight training will be… you!”
Tine followed the King’s gaze and was shocked to find that it was settled on him. His heart immediately leapt into his throat as he looked at Prince Sarawat who looked, if anything, disinterested and annoyed by his father’s decision.
This was not what Tine had signed up for.