Chapter Text
Rinne smirked as he confidently walked right past the guards and into the forest. There were more than usual, but still left a massive blind spot that Rinne had been taking advantage of since he was twelve. Sure, five years later you’d think he would’ve grown out of sneaking off into the woods at night for no reason beyond getting out of that dreadful place, but here he was. Seventeen and wandering down a path he’d once taken with his mother and committed to memory.
The increase in guards did give him pause, he was sure he knew the reason, yet it evaded him in that moment. Surely it can’t have been that important— Rinne assured himself, as arrogant as ever— if I can’t even remember it. I can protect myself anyway.
The whine of an injured animal tore him out of his thoughts, though, and he immediately ran to see what was going on. Only, it wasn’t a small fox or even dog like he’d expected. There, leg caught in a bear trap, teeth bared and eyes wide in fear, was a werewolf. And suddenly the increase in guards made sense. It was a full moon. He’d been told not to go out that night, he himself had told Hiiro not to go out that night, and yet he’d somehow forgotten. Was he stupid? He knew better than to wander on a full moon, he knew what had taken his mother from him, he knew—
Another whine. The wolf, a skinny little thing that could hardly be more than a pup, was still trying its best to look big, but it was panting and swaying. None of his thoughts made sense anymore. It was like someone had turned off his reason. Suddenly, Rinne was approaching it. He was slow, holding his hands up and his head low to show he was not a threat. The wolf tried to back up, only to fall and whimper from the pain.
“Hey there kid,” Rinne murmured, hoping beyond hope that maybe his father was wrong and this child could understand him, “I’m not gonna hurt ya. Can I help ya get outta there? Patch ya up?”
The wolf stared, exhaustion and pain showing on every inch of its face, and then bowed its head. Rinne sighed, relief washing over him as he moved slightly faster. The pup watched through narrowed eyes as he crouched next to the trap and inspected the wound.
“‘M sorry,” Rinne began, placing his hands on either side of the trap to pry it off, “this is gonna hurt.”
The wolf let out what could only be described as a scream as Rinne threw the wretched trap as far off as he could, watching as the pup tried to pull its leg further in only to flinch as the pain washed over him.
“I’m so sorry,” Rinne repeated, over and over, as he tore his headband off and began using it as a bandage. He would’ve preferred to wash it off first, but he hadn’t exactly thought to bring a canteen on his midnight jaunt. The blood soaked through the thin strip of fabric quickly. “Dammit, I need to get ya back to the manor. The old man’s gonna fucking kill me.”
Rinne began hoisting the still whining and panting pup up, trying to keep its weight off the bad leg. “Come on, skinny as ya are, I can’t carry ya the whole way. I need yer help here.”
The wolf huffed, the noise barely hiding a whine, as it slowly, so so slowly, began to hobble with Rinne’s help. It took a long time, far too long, but eventually they made it to the front gate.
Rinne steeled himself for the inevitable lecture before shouting for the guards, “Hey! I got an injured wolf here and need help gettin’ ‘em inside!”
The guards glance between each other for a moment before one finally speaks up.
“My lord, your father—“
“I don’t give a shit about the old man right now! I have an injured child and if you won’t help me treat them I’ll do it myself dammit!”
They continue to hesitate, and Rinne decides that means they’ve made their choice. He begins pulling the wolf along again. He’d find the damn medical supplies himself.
Finally, one of the guards surges forward and helps Rinne lift the pup fully off the ground. He barks orders at the other three men, telling one to fetch the doctor and another to help them carry. The third was tasked with informing the king. Rinne silently prayed for the man’s safety.
With the help of the guards, they moved much faster and Rinne was glad for it, as the wolf was clearly losing energy and fast. It didn’t take long at all to make their way into an empty room and place the wolf gently to the ground. The guard sent to find help entered shortly after them, followed closely by the doctor.
Rinne and the guards are instructed to step back as the man assesses the wound and gets to work. The guards continue to share uncertain looks, gazes flickering between Rinne, each other, and the wolf.
Rinne, for his part, sits as close as the doctor will allow and never removes his eyes from the wolf. The doctor works swiftly, ignoring both Rinne and the guards as he cleans, treats, and wraps the visibly broken leg. By the time he’s done, the wolf is barely awake, shallow breaths and half lidded eyes the only indication of awareness.
The second the doctor steps back, Rinne is returning to the pup’s side. God, Rinne thinks, it’s just a child. He gently runs his fingers through the dirty and tangled fur on its neck, attempting to comfort it if nothing else. He is rewarded with the wolf relaxing into the touch and its breathing evening out.
The doctor clears his throat, catching the prince’s attention. “His leg is broken and if you’re not careful it will become infected. Should it become infected, there won’t be much we can do bar amputation and given how weak and malnourished he is, he wouldn’t likely survive. He will need food and water as soon as possible. Whether your father allows this or not, I will do my best to offer my support.”
Rinne nods, an apology and gratitude thick on his tongue. Suddenly all those years of building relationships with his staff felt worth it if it meant they’d side with him over his father.
As if on cue, the door slams open, the king himself storming in, followed by the guard Rinne had seen scuttle off at his superior's order.
“What is wrong with you?” his father's voice booms, “Bringing that creature here! The very same that killed your mother!”
Rinne curls himself over the boy’s neck and head, as if hiding him would protect him from his father’s wrath. A weak growl greets him, but a glance shows him that the wolf is staring directly at the king, not him.
“You know damn well this ain’t the same thing that killed mom,” Rinne all but growls himself, “This is a child who was injured by one of our traps, and I’ve decided to take responsibility for. He will be my responsibility, and you won’t have a thing to do with it.”
The king frowns. Rinne had always been rebellious, but he never took a hard stance on anything. He was mischievous, friendly, and carefree. Willingly taking on a massive burden could be a step in the right direction. Perhaps Rinne was finally ready to start becoming an heir.
A sharp cough dislodges itself from the man’s throat, interrupting his thoughts. The doctor gives him a sharp look, and several guards look ready to jump to his aid. He scoffs and waves them all off.
“Should that thing so much as injure a single human being, you will personally put it down.”
Without waiting for an answer, the king sweeps away as if he’d never been there. Rinne allows himself to relax, hands mindlessly returning to running through the wolf’s fur. He’s met with a low whine and the pup pressing further into the touch.
Rinne ignores as the doctor directs the guards in fetching food, water, and medicine, choosing instead to focus all of his attention on the small wolf practically draped across his lap. With low whispers, he continues to comfort the boy, even as he falls asleep.
“S’alright. I said I’d take responsibility, and I meant it. So heal up quick, and wake up early. I still ain’t know your name.”