Do Not Seek Absolution 𓇼 Seungin

12 𓇼 Quiz 1: DON'T Piss Off Fae Folk (Required)

Chan barged into the palace. Throwing open the doors of the throne room before he could be stopped by the infinite amount of guards he nonchalantly passed by, that same golden barrier blocking the soldiers from following them any farther. Behind him and Seungmin who somehow managed to keep a reluctant pace with the Captain, despite his constant comments that everything he was doing was advised against and exceedingly idiotic, Jeongin had to trip over his own feet to keep up with the pair. Flinching once or twice when he heard the guards banging on the barriers behind them.

But, come on. Chan said he was about to slug a Warlord. Whether physically or verbally Jeongin had no idea but he was not about to miss out either way. Not that Chan seemed to give him much choice, which, he didn't understand why the Captain wanted him to come along in the first place. Sure! Why not! He's along to watch the rodeo!

At the forefront of the room, that man who once sat in the throne atop the embellished stairwell, a grey beard and a suspicious look to his eyes, black royal garbs decorated with accents of gold and emerald, the crown which sat atop his head; He barged into the throne room to greet them from a set of doors atop the stairwell. That gruff and exhausted voice that was once filled with irritation now booming furiously, nearly bellowing at them with the same force as a leviathan as he halted at the peak of that stairwell. Speaking down to them still, "Who do you believe you are? Thinking you can waltz in here without permission—"

"Thinking?" Chan glanced around the throne room, doing a full spin over his shoulder smoothly before he offered up his cheeky smile to the King of Miroh, "But I am here without permission."

Meticulously, the King began his way down the stairwell. Taking one step at a time. Hissing his words with more venom than a rattlesnake, his sour expression twisted enough to swallow nails and spit corkscrews, "Your kind is not welcomed in my kingdom, fae."

"Bitch..." Jeongin scrunched his face up, murmuring the words beneath his breath. Seungmin elbowed him. A wordless plea for him to cool it with the insults. But Jeongin saw his grip on his cutlass tightening regardless, clearly trying to keep himself from slicing the King's neck open to avoid larger issues. Issues like, you know, committing regicide inside of a King's own palace.

"Irrelevant, your Highness. I have a business proposal. You will grant the freedom of the Crown Prince," The fae waved off his clear attempt at an insult, instead pure amusement striking their Captain's face at the King's attempt for intimidation. Yeah. Not that he was super intimidating to start with but he could agree with Chan finding entertainment in the situation. Simply continuing on with his supposed 'business proposal' (Which, for the record, he did not share with Jeongin or Seungmin so they were on board with what he was about to do, both clueless) as he prompted, "And your fleets will guarantee us safe passage along the eastern coasts, until we reach the ocean once more. You will not touch or harm my ship, my crew, and you will not take the Prince from us."

"And if we do not?" The King tested the fae as he approached them. Considering this man had lost his son hours prior to the culprits of the kidnapping barging into his own place to force the king to agree to allow Felix's freedom, he was more composed than Jeongin would've liked. Like, why isn't this guy on his knees begging for his son back? Collected about the idea of losing his only son and heir to the throne to the fae (+ his pirate whores), yet furious that the wandering band of vagrants didn't have the proper permission to encroach on the throne room. In fact, he seemed more furious about the fact a fae had walked into his home than about the fact they quite literally stole Felix out from underneath him.

"I could bring wrath to your kingdom. every anchor that moors at your ports will bring quakes and waves upon your shores. Every lip that touches a crumb of bread will bring the swarms to your fields. Every drop of blood spilled is another plague inside of your wine," The amusement on Chan's expression slipped off in an instant, falling far down as he tipped his chin down to the King. Though the King wasn't much taller or shorter than the fae himself, the pointed narrow of those golden eyes that raked through that older man (Uh? Relatively? Didn't Chan say he's like 400 years old? But the King looked older so) as he came to a stop in front of Chan, "And you will know what it means to be at war with the Gods."