It's almost desperately that the young nangdo struggles to move him.

If the situation were any less dire, Alcheon rang would have laughed at the sheer irony.

"Just go, kid. Neither of us will make it out alive like this."

The melee is over, as is the main fighting, their group did, in fact, complete their mission to clear off the defending Baekje archers.

Not without casualties.

Even from his Bi Cheon Ji Do he can name people whom he watched fall.

"Alcheon rang, please, please move with me. Just there," Yushin's nangdo does his best to plead, perhaps motivate him into moving.

The sun rising higher as noon approaches, their pre-set time for regrouping.

His vague gestures towards the featureless grass-scape aren't helpful.

They shift a couple more metres, and he puts his good foot down.

"Put me down."

Stubbornly, Deokman shakes his head, "Not if you're going to collapse and just give up."

His face contorts into a grimace as he jars his hurt-possibly broken leg.

"You won't last if you have to carry me all the way back to where we're meant to meet the rest."

Looking around carefully for more Baekje stragglers before they stumble along, past blood stains and corpses.

Arm slung over the slimmer shoulders of the shorter male, limping through grass, he's tugged towards the standing high tower.

As he concentrates on keeping himself upright and moving, it's the nangdo who's watching where they step, preventing him from falling.


In a moment of detachment, he spaces out, opting to focus on putting another foot before another.

A blade glances past his leather belt, and he's so out of it his first reaction is to jerk away.

Deokman brings an armoured forearm down on it, knocking the blade out of the enemy's wavering grip.

The face of the soldier runs with cuts and bleeding lacerations, a crooked grin revealing missing teeth.

Even as Alcheon reaches for his sword, the nangdo has moved, drawing his blade, slashing in a wide overextended/sloppy/foolish arc, cutting down the Baekje warrior.

The boy hurries back to support him, asking if he's okay.

You could call it his pride that prevented him from replying anything but that cutting reply, "When we get back, I'm going to teach you how to use a sword properly even if it kills me."

He hears the scoff by his ear, and he whips around, almost daring the nangdo to say no, but it's the next line that keeps him quiet.

"You've promised to get back alive. So focus on staying alive and don't waste your energy on talking, Alcheon rang."

They move at a steady pace, and he regains his footing, becoming accustomed to the limp.

As they walk past yet another pile of corpses he hears his companion gasp softly.

He's lowered to the ground before he can protest, and then he sees it too.

Among the Baekje standard issue armours, yellow and blue – his, his mind shrieks.

Deokman splashes through the muddy river, ill-fitting leather guards flapping about, pant legs ballooning and taking in water as he moves towards the pile.

Pulling the two bodies back to shore, fingers to their neck, Alcheon looks over from a distance away as he limps over.

It's the sheer relief in the nangdo's eyes that makes him sag, and he's grateful.

Moments later, they're both successfully resuscitated, coughing up bloody and muddy water.

The stupid boy is crying, gripping hard at his cadre mate who smiles a watery grin, hand patting his back, "I thought you were dead, Jukbang-hyung!"

He cracks a smile at his nangdo, who up till then had simply been sitting silently, looking at him.

"It's good to see you again, Yang Gil."

When his assistant begins tearing, he and the other elder nangdo share a look.

They're young. So young.

In the next moment, he's supported and up right again, issuing sharp commands that they're to move again.

"We don't have much time."


"Where's Godo, Deokman? I lost track of him in the fighting, after he went to Dae Poong."

The boy shrugs helplessly.

Yang Gil cuts in, "The fat guy right? I saw him take down a couple of Baekje scum and then he got swarmed."

There's no more talk on missing comrades, no more talk at all in fact.

But they move, over slight hills, across flat grass never pausing, just hoping.

And they regroup, tatters of their original squadron, slowly, people inching from all corners.

It's well past noon, the promised backup never comes.

It goes past mid-afternoon and they take stock of missing members.

Yushin left with Lord Seolwon, and by default he should reassume control.

Deokman recollects the members of Yushin's Yong Hwa Hyang Do, reporting the headcount, and Yang Gil does so for his Bi Cheon Ji Do.

"We have one a member who's badly wounded, he needs medical attention, Alcheon rang. What should we do?"

It's that meaningful look that Yang Gil gives him, and he levels a cold look back.

It's one of those cases again.

He's no stranger to pain, or to loss, let alone a mercy killing.

"Kill him."

There's a sudden ripple of silence that spreads over their small group of near twenty.

His nangdo winces, near visibly recoiling.

"B-but Alcheon rang, it's –"

He cuts him off, because fuck don't you see that I'll waver as well and right now can't, "Did you not hear me? I said kill him!" can't have that kind of uncertainty.

The voice tapers off to weak and obedient, defeated, "I understand."

Alcheon leans back, looking up to the sky, eyes closing in prayer.

It had been another moment of detachment.

He opened his eyes to Yang Gil drawing a sword on Deokman.

"Alcheon rang, tell him that he can't kill his own comrade!"

"I already told you midget that it was Alcheon rang's orders!"

His gaze flits to the nangdo kneeling on the ground, awaiting execution.

Broken leg, mangled arm, heavy bleeding, head wound.

Survival chance, 20%, movement capabilities, nil.

"He will weigh us down as we attempt to head back to camp. There'll be more Baekje soldiers around, with him, our chances of survival lessen. I did give the order to kill him."

Yang Gil readies his blade again, bringing it down.


Deokman tackles his nangdo down, even as the one clad in his yellow begins crying silently on the floor.

Fiercely, Yushin's nangdo tussles, wrenching Yang Gil's sword out of his grip.

"Do something, Jukbang-hyung, help him so he isn't such a burden! Godo, can't you carry him rather than let him die? And you, Alcheon rang, why don't you kill him yourself rather than get Yang Gil to do it?!"

Immediately, the rest of Yushin's cadre rushes over to look over -his- nangdo.

They clear off, moving out of his sight, even all his remaining nangdo, worrying and fussing over an invalid.

Unbidden, his anger rises to the surface, trying to see why in hell this imbecile is aiming to get them all killed, "Can't you see that he's gonna get us killed?"

With every step he takes, deriving a twisted satisfaction from the fear that grows in the boy's eyes.

"Can't you see that with your ideals, you're only prolonging his pain?"

The child's back hits a wall of the high tower.

"Can't you see that we're already not in a good shape, that it'll take a miracle for just us to make it out alive?"

Fingers gripping into the worn rock.

"Why won't you let me deal with my nangdo the way I will?"

His limp doesn't hinder him anymore, and yet, with Deokman staring him straight in the eye, defiantly glaring, he's lost his momentum.

"Because we aren't meant to take lives indiscriminately. Our fifth rule, to exercise discretion when taking a life."

He finds that it's not something he can argue with, because by then, Alcheon is just tired.

Yang Gil, from his spot on the ground, murmurs lowly, that he'll set up a watch so everyone gets to rest.

Even his last nangdo leaves for the one he wanted killed.

He half collapses there and then, only for Deokman to catch him.

He blames irony.

"You know, Alcheon rang, it's not we don't understand."

The kid has the audacity to smile at him.

"We all have our demons. This is just my way of asking the world for forgiveness, since I've already murdered."


Given that everyone else paired up, they're left with each other, taking the last watch till day break.

He stretches carefully, working the kinks out of his muscles from the less than comfortable position he slept in.

Yushin's nangdo offers him his water container, and he thinks rather distantly of where his must have gone.

Alcheon gratefully drinks, before handing it back.

"How's your leg?"

He stands shakily, gently leaning his weigh on it.

It's on the verge of giving out, but he can stand.

"Better."

They both cast back looks at the group peacefully sleeping behind them.

"I will protect you"

When he wakes up, it's mild confusion, when did I fall asleep?

The sharp twang of an arrow, then the muted thwack of it burying itself in flesh is enough to jolt him out of his reverie.

"That makes six…"

A quiet voice.

He startles, hand drawing his blade.

Beside him, the child startles as well, before calming.

"Did you rest well, Alcheon rang?"

He bites back a curse because it's his fault he fell asleep.

Deokman's eyes widen, then he's lunging at him, sword unsheathing mid-movement.

He's only half turned, barely dodging another sword that would have amputated his arm, when cleanly, his attacker's head is lopped off.

Once more, the child catches him, winces when the uncovered blade bites into his palm.


Seokpum rang and his men, with Yushin rang come for them just as dawn breaks, a Baekje group on their tail.

Overnight, the child appears to have changed, from that idealist who refused to let him put a man out of his misery, to someone willing to go to great lengths to keep his comrades safe.

Later, in reflection, he would realise that they were still one and the same.

Deokman races to the top of the watch tower, setting one foot on the wall and overlooking the battlefield.

Someone being ganged-up upon? Flood the area with consecutive arrows.

Someone's unprotected back? Another Baekje soldier would go down for the count.

Somewhere along the way, he must have run out of arrows, because one moment Alcheon is clashing swords with a Baekje warrior, with Seokpum rang just up head.

The next, Seokpum rang is targeted from the back, and before he can issue a warning, a blade whizzes through the air, stabbing the enemy through the head, missing Seokpum rang by inches.

Commendably, he continues to fight in the chaos, cutting down as many as he can.

Alcheon rang doesn't miss the way his eyes begin to flit towards the tower every now and then.

He stumbles, and his opponent makes a break for it.

He barely thrusts the sword through his opponent's ankle, twisting – rendering him lame, before rolling over to avoid another coming down where his head had been.

There're a couple of thuds behind, and his stomach sinks.

The purple clad Hwarang is off, running towards the tower.

Alcheon struggles to stand, covering for him, defending from three Baekje troops simultaneously, while guarding his injured leg.


The kid, up on the tower is surrounded and unarmed.

Only by sheer luck does wimpy Yushin's nangdo push a couple off the tower.

Even from a distance, Seokpum is more than sure that such a fall means death.

He's not an emotional person by nature, nor is he attached to his men.

But he values -highly- loyalty, and is by the nangdo's act, indebted.

It is his own incapability that led the boy to use his own sword as an arrow.

Backed up against the ledge, a clever feint has another Baekje fool tumbling over the edge.

An all too real reminder of the imminent danger that boy wearing blue is in.

"Jump!"

He hollers up, arms outstretched.

Even if he's unsure if his arms will bear the weight of someone falling from a height of three storeys, he has to try.

The nangdo chances a look down at him before he's back to being occupied by the four blades aiming at him.

Stupidly, the boy chooses to ram another off the tower, taking a sword to his shoulder guard in the process.

If he had just chosen to run up, he could have been up there, supporting the child who guarded his back.

But by now, running up poses the serious threat of the boy being pushed off.

"Jump damn it, I'll catch you!"

The child cries out as a sword is driven through his arm, and he's thrown over the edge.

Bracing for the impact, Seokpum rang staggers as he catches Yushin's nangdo, almost surprised at the lack of weight.

More than that though, it's the eyes that look up at him.

His nangdo charge up the tower, clearing off the remaining Baekje soldiers, bringing down the boy's bow in the process.

Despite the child grasping tightly at his wounded arm with a bleeding hand, the child isn't in too bad a shape.

Sprained ankle, bruising, shallow cut to the abdomen, and bearing in mind the people he must have taken down, it's not bad at all.

Slight hesitation as he sets the boy down, resting him against the tower's support beam, his cadre mates running over.

"Deokman, are you okay?"

He gives them a reassuring, half-confident kind of smile.

Pulling off his headband, fully intent on using it as a torque for the child when another of the nangdo interrupt, pulling open a bag.

"We should put some herbs to prevent infection first."

The boy invariably spasms, exhaling shakily at the application.

After, he watches his expression as he tightens their makeshift bandage, ensuring it's not too tight.


Like with the Seju, he's indebted.

It doesn't mean he strictly has to, but he chooses to do so.

The kid struggles with pulling his bow, gasping softly as the pain makes him let go, and the arrow goes wide.

"You shouldn't be straining your arm when it's still healing."

Arguably, one would consider this admonishment his attempt to handicap Yushin's Yong Hwa Hyang Do.

He prefers the latter thought that he's trying to look out for the weaker than average nangdo whom he still owes his life to.

The kid looks almost caught off guard by his concern, and it is, admittedly, understandable.

Given the abuse all the other Hwarang factions heaped upon them for the past couple of years, it's something hard for them all to adjust to, not having a scapegoat to take their anger out on.

A shifting back to the original movement, where everyone viewed each other as rivals, but still comrades.

"I need to be ready for the next Bi Jae."

He wraps his hand around the nangdo's, showing him a looser grip.

"Yushin's going to enter you all?"

Cautiously, the kid follows.

He takes care again, in watching for pain, pulling the bowstring back with Deokman's good hand.

"I don't know. Seokpum rang, what do you think?"

Seokpum barks a laugh, jarring in the darkness.

"I don't think you should be asking me. Go ask your Hwarang yourself. But if I had to answer, definitely not with members injured like you. Alcheon rang maybe a heartless enough bastard to do something like it, but I would personally never enter a Bi Jae without all my members."

He cares. He does, he really does, but only for those who actually matter.

The next night, the kid is right back at the same vicious style he used on the Baekje soldiers.

"You'll destroy your arm at this rate, Deokman."

Gently, coaxing, -weakening a rival?- he helps the kid regain his former arm strength.

The following night, the kid returns his headband, washed and pressed.

At the sight of it, his hand raises to his forehead, realising that it's bare.

He hadn't even begun to realise that he missed it.

And it's a kind smile, small, unexpectedly sweet.

"Thank you."

No, it should be me thanking you.

He only hums in reply, continuing with their training session.


Watching from the side-lines, Alcheon rubs his temples when the kid executes a flawless sky-earth cut, forcing one of the Bi Cheon Ji Do members on the defensive.

He can feel the stares of his nangdo and his fellow Hwarang heavy on his back.

"You taught him?"

Yushin rang stewing beside him, ignoring him on purpose as Im Jong rang questions him, incredulous.

He makes a noncommittal sound, something along the lines of Yushin being a terrible teacher, and not wanting the kid to be killed.

He only tells himself that he doesn't regret teaching Deokman when the child ends up winning that match.

As the sword fights draw to a close, he elbows Yushin rang in the side.

"He's a good kid. Teach him well."

Later, in their closing match, he wins the fight between him and Daenambo with a sky-earth cut.

It's his signature after all, and no one does it better than him.

He sighs at that thought.

Because after months of training, relying on his weaker arm, the kid can now dual wield.


Despite his best attempts at instilling some form of self-respect in the kid, he refuses to pull a sword on any of the Hwarang.

If it had been just once, or twice, he might have been persuaded to let it drop, but Seokpum rang knows all these incidents are all tigers begging to be released from their cages to wreak havoc.

As usual, it begins with them, -all the Hwarang minus Pil Tan and Sun Yul who always decline, Yushin who's not invited, and Alcheon who stopped- getting mightily drunk.

It ends with him concussed and so out of it and on top of that waif of a kid.

"Aren't you just a little too pretty to be a guy?"

"And so light and weak?"

"Tch you all don't know, that midget killed so many Baekje scum, he's actually not half bad."

Teasing, "I'd say! Wang Yoon, didn't Park Wie mistake you for a gisaeng the other time?"

This time he takes it a step further, just enough to scare them into stop harassing the kid.

"Instead of Deokman who has actual balls, why don't we all strip Wang Yoon instead? Paint him pretty and see if the Lady of the House reclaims him."

Drunken laughter, but Wang Yoon is distinctively uncomfortable, Duk Choong even makes a couple grabs at his friend's belt before Bojong rang tells them all to knock it off.

The kid escapes relatively unscathed this time, breathing evenly under him, unlike prior occasions where he'd be pushed about, mocked, and be subjected to trailing fingers.

Later, the Yong Hwa Hyang Do's chief medic, Jukbang comes a-knocking.

"Hangover tonic for you, Seokpum rang. Our compliments."

He gives them a half smirk.

"Watch over Deokman, he's too kind for his own good."


When it came down to, it was in all honesty, still irony.

She/he that child extends him his/her hand and smiles.

"I'll help you stand, so teach me how to fight again, Alcheon rang."

He became her guard, she was his princess.


He/she that kid held a hand out and said she wanted him when his Seju cast him aside.

"Would you become one of my people then, Seokpum rang?"

He can't forget the kindness and acceptance buried within her/his eyes when he/she willingly took him – someone who was discarded.

She was his imaginary creditor, but he was very much a debtor.


He was Deokman, finest archer of all of Silla who rose to acclaim during the Baekje-Silla wars, recognised by General Gyebaek as a threat and Gukseon Munno as an accomplished swordsman.

She was Queen Seondeok, the kindest, fairest and the first Queen of Silla, well known for leading her troops into battle personally, clashing directly with Generals on flat grass fields, uniting the three lands under her rule.

Only after multitudes of conquest were people to accept that they were one and the same.


But for both Alcheon rang and Seokpum rang, it hadn't mattered so much.

He/She had been the kid/child/their Princess, and it was still irony that at the end of it all they had suspected but never truly known.


This has been running around in my head for the longest time. However, after KamilahKaliope recently reviewed on an old Six Flying Dragons fic, my settled k-drama interest reared its head and this got written.

Head canons of this AU will be on my profile, I hope to turn this into a series of loosely tied one-shots within the same mild-AU.

Honestly speaking, this is kinda completionist in nature, this Warrior!Deokman fic.

Stuff that could come up... Maybe a small Yushin one, Munno-Ho Jae, Mishil-Seolwon, Yong Chun-Chun Chu, Daenambo on Cheonmyeong, Bojong-rest of Hwarangs.

No ideas here for any except for the Daenambo on Cheonmyeong one.

Or, maybe a young!Deokman one to act as the back story for the above one-shot.

I'll edit the tags as necessary, but well haha this will be quite stagnant for a while.

Don't worry too much though, this will not be escalating into a full blown connected series, even if I dearly wish to.

Yours,

Kayo.