In the Prince's Garden - Part One
Title: In the Prince’s Garden
Author: Kat_Elric
Team: AU
Rating: R
Fandom: Super Junior
Pairing: Heechul/Hangeng (other side pairings will occur or be hinted at)
Summary: The Prince of the land is a spoiled selfish brat concerned only with his own wellbeing and pleasure. Yet the one thing the prince wants, he can never have - his first and favorite Petal as his personal lover. However if something isn’t done fast none of it will matter as there won’t be a kingdom left for the Prince to rule over.
Author's Note: Thanks to my two wonderful betas who read through this for me. Also thanks for all the support from the team! You guys are great!
Prompt Used: T-ara - Wae Ireoni
In the Prince’s Garden
The Garden of the Prince was unlike any other garden seen in the land. It didn’t contain flowers, or trees, plants, or shrubs, fountains or sculptures, or anything traditionally thought of when a garden is motioned, yet it did boast the most exquisite beauty in all of the land. Beauty crafted in living and breathing flesh, each marked as one of the Prince’s very own. Petals, he called them, chosen for their beauty or perhaps some reason that only he knew, but chosen nevertheless. They were his to bring him pleasure until the time when he decided they were no longer a necessity.
“My Lord,” an older man said reverently as he stepped through the curtain separating The Garden from the rest of the palace and dropped to a knee. The Prince’s Petals, spread out on various plush cushions or surfaces, took no notice of him and carried on with whatever it was they were doing.
The Prince himself, lounging among a pile of pillows built up around him, had one of his favored Petals spread over his lap. The young man’s long legs were folded alongside the Prince’s own and he lay with his head on the Prince’s shoulder, back exposed to warm air and nude save for a pale blue cloth that bunched around his hips. The slender fingers of the Prince drifted over the young man’s smooth skin and although he was fully clothed, there was no way of knowing what had been occurring moments before.
There was no indication of the Prince having heard the man, and he continued softly, as if afraid to say the wrong thing. “We have found one that could be worthy of your Garden,” the man said softly.
“I will be the judge of that,” the Prince replied lazily, his fingers encouraged the Petal on his lap to lift his head and he pressed a slow kiss to man’s lips, enjoying how he willingly opened beneath him. He took his time appreciating what was his and exploring with lips and tongue something already intimately familiar to him. The man, still kneeling on the floor, looked away from the display, his cheeks flushing with red. “Present him,” the Prince ordered, moving from the mouth of the young man on his lap and stoking a hand down his back.
Quickly the man nodded and gestured for someone waiting just outside of the Garden to enter. A young boy stepped through the curtain wearing nothing but a scrap of fabric to preserve his modesty and clearly uncomfortable about the lack. The Prince’s eyes racked over his form, letting his feeling as he did so show on his face.
“Zhou mi darling,” he murmured to the man in his lap. “Be a dear and leave me for a moment,” as he spoke he watched the young man who had just entered his Garden. The young man’s eyes were locked on his hand that was sliding ever lower on the body in front of him, and the Prince took care to press fabric from the young man’s hips, baring him for the eyes of any looking. “Why don’t you have Kyuhyun see to you until I am done here.”
“Yes, my Prince,” Zhou mi purred, rising slowly and seemingly unbothered as the fabric slid from his hips leaving him bare and clearly aroused. The Prince watched as the new young man followed Zhou mi with his eyes as his Petal crossed the room to a bed where Kyuhyun was stretched out on his stomach reading a book. “Kui Xian,” Zhou mi murmured as he climbed onto the bed and stretched out on his back beside the young man. Without looking up from his book, Kyuhyun slid a hand to Zhou mi’s chest and flicked a nipple lightly before sliding his fingers down the young man’s stomach to his erection. They curled there, stroking slowly, while his other hand turned a page in his book.
“Come,” the Prince said, grinning at the new young man and watching as he inhaled deeply and snapped his eyes back to where they were supposed to be. The small scrap of fabric did nothing to hide the interest the young boy’s body found in what he had seen. When he reached the Prince’s feet he dropped to his knees, head bowed. His hands curled into fists on his legs, clearly in attempt to stop him from reaching to cover himself. “How old are you?”
“Twenty years, my Lord,” the boy said softly.
“Interesting,” the prince mused. The young man’s voice was soft and pleasing, and he looked to be barely sixteen years, not the twenty that he professed. “Come here and we will see if you are fit to be a Petal in my Garden.”
The young man moved forward, almost hesitantly, and the Prince waved away the man who had brought him with a simple gesture. The man seemed eager to leave and vanished from the room before the Prince had a chance to reconsider. “Face them,” the Prince murmured, watching with pleasure as the boy glanced up in surprise and his face flushed with embarrassment.
It took a moment to settle his body with his back to the Prince’s chest, sitting stiffly between his legs. “There is no harm in finding pleasure in Zhou mi’s body,” the Prince murmured in to the boy’s ear observing with pleasure the shudder that ran through his body for one reason or another. “If you please me, I will allow you to find pleasure with whomever you chose.” As if on cue Zhou mi released a low drawn out moan, and tilted his hips up into Kyuhyun’s hand. “Zhou mi would not object. He enjoys being touched.”
The Prince’s hand settled on the boy’s shoulder and he flinched, then immediately stilled. “Tell me,” the Prince said softly but still in clear command, “What is your name?”
“Henry,” the boy breathed, leaning into the Prince’s hand that was sliding slowly down his chest.
“Henry,” the Prince repeated, letting the foreign sound roll off his tongue. “Tell me, have you ever been touched like this?”
“No,” Henry whispered arching into his touch.
“Good,” slender fingers untied the knot of fabric at the young man’s hips that was holding it in place. “I like my Petal’s untouched.” He pulled the cloth away, exposing Henry to the warm air. A slight tension in the young man’s shoulders was the only response he received as he slid the fabric to the side. He was pleased by what he saw revealed beneath as was every other man in the Garden who snuck glances with varying degrees of cleverness at the boy.
The Prince’s fingers drifted lightly over the soft skin where the young man’s leg joined his body. He had been shaved carefully, very likely simply for his presentation to the Prince, and he found he rather liked that. The young man inhaled, a shuddery little gasp, “My Lord.”
“Prince Heechul, when it is just us in the Garden. Eventually you may be allowed to call me simply Heechul,” he purred as his fingers closed around Henry’s flesh. The young boy released a jumble of noise, his head dropping back to the shoulder of the Prince. “I can show you a world of pleasure as one of mine. You will want for nothing,” Heechul whispered huskily into his ear. “Do you choose this, Henry? Do you chose to be one of mine?” the Prince asked as his fingers lightly feathered down Henry’s erection.
“Y-yes,” Henry breathed out.
There was a soft rustle of fabric and Heechul looked up to lock eyes with the man who had just entered the room through one of the side doors. “Good. Welcome to my Garden my Petal,” Heechul told Henry, his fingers wrapping firmly around him. As he stroked the young man to completion as was his right, he never took his eyes off the man standing in the doorway.
-o-o-o-o-o-
“I added a new Petal to my Garden today,” Heechul purred, clearly pleased with himself and with the addition.
“I saw that,” the man agreed, leaving off how the Prince had done nothing more than accept the pretty little thing. That and abandon him to the clutches of the rest of his Garden as soon as he was finished. At least there were a few men in there who would be considerate of the boy, like Ryeowook, or at least more so then the Prince who came and went as he saw fit was.
“You know,” Prince Heechul murmured, “You are my only Petal who may come and go as he pleases.” His words sounded like it was the most esteemed privilege, not a right that he had earned over the long years of service to his Prince.
“The fabric you wanted came in. I collected a sample,” he said, choosing to ignore what could easily start an argument he didn’t want to see the end of.
“Oh?” the Prince whirled from the window of his private bedroom and fluttered close, any devious plan put aside for the moment. His fingers ran over the soft fabric and he lifted a corner of it for careful inspection. “It is satisfactory,” he declared. “Have them make me something from it.”
“Should I specify what?” the man asked dryly.
“No,” Heechul replied with a devious smirk, “let them guess.”
“I’m sure they will be thrilled,” he responded dutifully, shifting the fabric in his arms and turning to leave.
Suddenly the Prince was pressed against his body, his hands sliding beneath the simple fabric of his loose shirt to touch skin. “Hankyung I want you,” the Prince breathed his version of his name, sliding the evidence of his want along the man’s leg.
“You may have me whenever you choose my Prince,” he said dutifully. “Allow me to put this fabric down so it remains safe.”
“No,” Heechul growled a hand closing over Hangeng’s wrist to halt him. “I want you like when we were teenagers. Fucking like we were the last two living people in the world and loving every moment of it.”
“I will do my best to pretend,” he replied.
“I don’t want your pretend reactions,” Heechul hissed. “I want you.”
“I will do my best to please you,” Hangeng repeated.
Heechul snarled, suddenly angry. “Get out,” he said dangerously.
“Should I send someone in to take care of you?” Hangeng asked politely.
The Prince had moved back to the window and stood looking out at the courtyard below. “Send in Sungmin, he at least enjoys my attention as he should.”
“As you wish,” Hangeng replied with a deep bow, and moved from the room before Heechul could change his mind.
-o-o-o-o-o-
“Sungmin,” he called softly catching the man’s attention as he stepped into the Garden. “Heechul would like you to attend him.”
Sungmin, who was working on some sort of sophisticated beading project, laid it carefully aside and smirked. “You got him all riled up and can’t follow through?” he teased.
“Go before I break your jaw and send you to him that way,” Hangeng growled.
“Sounds kinky,” Sungmin laughed, and then he narrowed his eyes at another young man who was lounging nearby playing with a small turtle. “Yesung if you touch my things while I am gone I will kill you.” Yesung rolled his eyes and waved him away, poking at the tiny creature on his chest.
His message delivered, Hangeng turned to leave and then caught sight of another man spread out on a bed wearing nothing at all and changed his course accordingly. “Siwon,” he murmured as he neared. The man waved to him in acknowledgement and finished carefully printing something on a sheet of paper, likely from the books spread before him, before looking up.
Immediately the man frowned. “You’re upset. What did he do?”
Hangeng sighed and placed the fabric to the side of the bed in a neat pile leaving his hand free to reach out and trace the intricate tattoo on the back of the man’s shoulder, a flower as they all bore in mark of their position. “Nothing that I shouldn’t expect.”
Siwon’s face filled with sympathy. “You are his favorite,” he said gently. “And you used to take great pleasure in each other.”
“I know and I always knew there would be more, but now,” he waved a hand to encompass the room at large and the ten other men within it. Siwon had been the second addition to the Garden, back when they had both been teenagers, when he had only just begun to do the unthinkable.
To fall in love with the Prince was one thing -- who couldn’t help loving the man who provided every comfort they could ever need -- but to desire him to be his and his alone was quite another thing entirely. “I am sorry Hangeng,” Siwon said softly, using his true name.
“It isn’t your fault. In fact if it was only you I wouldn’t mind. Actually I don’t really think I would mind any of the men here, it is just that he stays here and does nothing. You don’t see the things I do Siwon.” The Prince’s Petals never left the Garden or the rooms immediately beyond it. They had everything provided for them in this wing of the palace and often the Prince himself simply came to the Garden to take pleasure in his Petals.
Hangeng had always been somewhat different. He had been bought as a child and given to a child Prince as a friend and eventual protector. Only when the Prince turned thirteen did his Garden begin to develop, first with Hangeng and then latter with the rest of his Petals. Yet Hangeng had never been confined to the Garden alone and often spent time in the City itself running errands for the Prince.
“I know,” Siwon replied sympathetically.
A sigh escaped his lips. “He is a bastard for never allowing you to wear clothing,” Hangeng murmured.
Siwon smiled. “I’m used to it.” His nakedness seemed to truly not bother him any longer and since it was never cold enough to require any sort of covering, he had never found reason to complain or protest the fact that his Prince enjoyed seeing his skin bare, whenever he pleased.
“I’d best be going. Heechul will have a fit if he comes out and I am still here,” he said finally.
“Perhaps one day,” Siwon began and then stopped.
“What?” Hangeng prompted.
“No, it’s nothing. Be safe in your travels,” Siwon told him, leaning up and kissing him gently.
“I will,” Hangeng replied, adding a kiss to the man’s forehead before gathering the fabric into his arms and walking away.
-o-o-o-o-o-
“I swear he will be the death of me,” the woman said as she gazed at the fabric. “If I guess his mind wrong he will be down here ranting and raving about how I am incapable of doing my job.”
“No, he won’t,” Hangeng reassured her as he looked over a fine dress she had displayed in the window. “He doesn’t leave the palace anymore. He will simply send me with his nasty words, of which I will give you the abridged version.”
She smiled at that. “I suppose that is true. How do you think our Prince would like a nice new robe out of this?”
“Best make him some party ware too. There was lust in his eyes when he stared after your fabric and anything he lusts for he enjoys showing off,” Hangeng told her, moving from the dress to a fine pair of loose pants and a shirt with matching elegant trim. It would look exquisite on Siwon.
“So true. I will do that. Thank you child,” she paused for a moment and watched him look over her work. “You can have that if you like. I know you can afford it.”
Hangeng looked up at her and blushed. “Oh no. I was simply thinking how nice it would look on a friend of mine, but that would be going directly against the Prince’s orders and we know how that would go over.”
“That Prince,” she muttered, “Is a spoiled brat who needs a good whipping. His mother is likely turning in her grave knowing what he has been up to.”
“Yes well you best not be heard saying those things, or you might be put to death or worse,” Hangeng told her.
“Oh heavens I would never want to work in his Garden!”
He laughed at that, not at all surprised the Garden was so well known about. “Don’t worry my fair lady. Only men are permitted in his Garden until the time he finds a wife.”
She sighed with relief. “That is for the best. We wouldn’t want several little ones from his loins running amok.” Then as if only just realizing what she had said her eyes widened. “My tongue has gotten the best of me, I better get my hands busy so it will be still before I lose it all together.”
Hangeng smiled. “I won’t tell. I’ll come to collect the clothing in a few days?”
“Best be tomorrow,” she said with a sigh, “You know how little the Prince likes to wait.”
“True,” Hangeng agreed. “Tomorrow then.” She nodded and turned her attention to the fabric in front of her, a clear dismissal. He offered her one last smile before slipping from the shop to the little tinkle of the bell.
On the trip to the palace he took the long way around, past the market and paused to by a bag of bread and another of fresh fruit. As he walked he distributed his purchases to those along the street who needed it. There were more now than there had ever been, more forced out of homes and jobs by increasing taxes and fines that they couldn’t pay. So many that his bags were empty before he was even half of the way back to the palace and he could offer the children and adults alike nothing but sad smiles as he walked.
It angered him that the one man who could do something about their situation, who could make a difference in the land, was too busy worrying about things like fabric and how loud he could get one of his little whores to moan. The Garden had never been designed to be what it had become. There had been a time when he had spent a great deal of time looking into the history behind it and was appalled at the thing Heechul had made it.
The Garden was designed to help the Prince or King, but only occasionally did that help ever traditionally merit something of the sexual nature. Even then if it did it was something that happened between only a few choice members of the Garden and the Prince, not all of them. Yet Heechul seemed determined to collect and use people, all the while forgetting the people that depended on him for their livelihood.
His thoughts were dark as he neared the palace and he frowned up at its splendor. Yet all the dark and gloomy thoughts couldn’t keep him from noticing the panicked scramble about the area. Something was wrong.
-o-o-o-o-o-
If he hadn’t already figured out that something was off, he would have known for certain when he stepped into the Garden. The men weren’t lounging like they normally did, but instead had gathered in small groups, looking somewhere between panicked and angry.
“What is going on?” Hangeng asked as he crossed the room to Siwon, who apparently did own a pair of pants and had put them on his body. That couldn’t be a good sign.
“The Prince is gone,” he mumbled, casting a glance to the numerous guards hurrying about.
“Gone?!” Hangeng replied shocked.
“Yes. Kidnapped. There was a note, but they wouldn’t allow us to see it,” Siwon sounded devastated.
“How does one bratty Prince that never leaves his section of the palace go and get himself kidnapped?” Hangeng hissed. He stormed past, leaving Siwon flustered in the Garden, and walked into Heechul’s chambers without an invitation. Inside the captain of the guard was snapping orders at the multitude of soldiers racing around. Hangeng ignored them all and stormed to the small table where a single sheet of paper lay untouched. Snatching it from the smooth surface, and ignoring the shout of protest he scanned the delicate script. It detailed, in delicate letters, that the Prince had indeed been kidnapped and demanded an outrageous sum of money be delivered to a designated location if they ever wished to see the man alive again.
“What do you think you are doing?!” the captain snarled at him. He didn’t answer as the ransom note was ripped from his fingers. He was finished with it anyway. “Get back out there in the Garden where you belong. Leave this to the professionals.”
There were a thousand things he could have said to that, but he said none of them, turning instead and doing as he had been commanded. Siwon was waiting for him just inside the Garden with hopeful eyes. ‘I need you,’ he snarled in his native tongue, the language he had so painstakingly taught Siwon if only so they would have a way of communication that no one else knew.
‘Heechul?’ Siwon asked, worry coloring his voice. Hangeng didn’t have the heart to speak his mind on the subject, not even to Siwon, so he held his tongue on the matter.
“Sungmin. You are with us. The rest of you stay here, play dumb, and for heaven sake don’t let any of those morons leave,” he said with a wave of his hand towards Heechul’s personal chamber.
Zhou mi sent him a wicked grin and then suddenly his expression changed to one of terror. “No, you cannot leave! What if they return for us?! We are his prize possessions worth almost as much as he is!” he exclaimed softly.
Kyuhyun rolled his eyes. “They won’t leave,” he assured Hangeng.
“Good,” he told them, then turned and crossed the room. Against the wall rich curtains hung and he pulled one to the side to reveal a panel with a series of depressions set into it. His fingers touched a number of them in an order known to very few and there was a hiss before a section of the wall slid away to reveal a dark tunnel. Hangeng glanced over his shoulder to find Sungmin and Siwon both dressed in dark clothing that would both cover their body and not hinder their movements. He nodded to them before slipping into the tunnel knowing they would follow and as soon as they had, it hissed closed behind them.
-o-o-o-o-o-
“What is this?” Sungmin asked quietly.
Hangeng spared him the obvious answer that they were in a tunnel with what appeared to be a softly glowing ceiling and told him what he knew of them instead. “As far as I know, these tunnels run all over the city and can spill out into various places. The monarchs have always known of their existence and used them to get from place to place secretly and safely. When we were young, Heechul and I used to play in these tunnels. I am fairly certain that I know where he is.” Sungmin didn’t press him for more information and for that he was glad.
Before too long the tunnel turned downward sharply, signaling that they were out of the walls of the palace and entering the truly underground portion of the tunnel. Hangeng remembered running through he as a child, following Heechul and exploring all the wonders that were here for children to find. Just as he expected the tunnel turned sharply and there was a large stone door sealed tightly shut. The locking mechanism was one that could be opened only with the correct physical key, which he did not have.
“Now what?” Siwon whispered.
“This is what Sungmin is here for,” Hangeng declared sending the man a pointed look that may or may not have been seen through the dimness.
“I don’t know what you expect me to do with that,” Sungmin murmured.
“Don’t pretend as though I am dumb. You were caught, by chance, trying to steal from the palace itself and instead of having your hands removed Heechul took a liking to you and added you to his Garden,” Hangeng said simply.
Sungmin grumbled something under his breath and then sighed. “Fine, but that doesn’t mean I can unlock it.” He moved to the door and slipped his hand into his pocket. Whatever he removed was too small for Hangeng to catch sight of in the low light but a moment later there was a click and Sungmin pushed the door open.
“You were a thief?” Siwon asked, mouth opened slightly in shock of the news.
Sungmin sent him a smirk. “What? Not all of us can be part of the priesthood. Oh wait,” his grin turned positively lecherous and Hangeng sighed.
“Not now,” he growled, pulling Siwon forward and through the doorway leaving Sungmin to follow after them.
There were three more doors like the first baring their way that Sungmin unlocked for them and a fourth that was slightly different and took a few curses as well as a good kick to get open. Beyond it was a young man who appeared completely startled to see them and using his surprise against him, Siwon swiftly knocked him unconscious with a well placed blow. After him three more men fell to Siwon’s skills and one last door to Sungmin’s talent, before they reached their destination at last.
The room held no less then twelve men and in their center tied to a chair with a strip of fabric over his mouth and wide eyes was their Prince. Immediately Sungmin reached into his pockets and Hangeng grabbed his shoulder. “Siwon,” he said simply, just the man’s name, but it was all that was needed for him to move into action.
It was as elegant and beautiful as a dance, watching Siwon fight, and in truth he didn’t really think it could be called fighting at all. The man slid seamlessly between opponents, dropping them with little more than a touch, and leaving no time for retaliation. It was marvelous to watch and while Sungmin very likely intended a massacre to get to their Prince, not a man in the room would wake up with so much as a headache from Siwon’s touch.
When the last had fallen, Hangeng heard Sungmin whistle appreciatively as he moved forward towards Heechul. “Remind me never to cross you,” Sungmin muttered and Hangeng rolled his eyes. He didn’t need to look to see the proud look or the flushed cheeks that the remark would have produced.
Beside Heechul at last, he knelt and looked at the ropes. They were fine silken ropes of the best quality, tied loosely enough that not only would they not harm the Prince, he could also slip free at will. “Is he alright?” Siwon’s worried voice came from just behind him.
“Because if he isn’t no one else in here will be either,” Sungmin growled.
“He is perfectly fine, aren’t you Heechul,” Hangeng snapped. The Prince made a small noise and Hangeng didn’t bother to look up. His fingers pulled free the knot near Heechul’s ankles and then he gave the rope a sharp tug. Obediently the coils tightened against the flesh of the Prince and satisfied of their new tightness, he re-tied it, using a knot that he had learned as a child, a real knot that would not be simple to pull free.
He was halfway through the same process on the Prince’s hands when he heard a growl muffled by fabric. A glance up showed him the Price’s eyes, bright with fury. Hangeng ignored him and tied his hands tightly to the chair once more. “There,” he murmured.
“Hangeng?” Siwon said hesitantly.
Hangeng stood and dusted his hands off. “If the Prince would like to play at being kidnapped then let’s let him play.”
“I- what?” Sungmin asked.
The Prince was glaring at Hangeng with such intensity that the man wondered for a moment why he wasn’t dead on the spot. “No kidnapper ties up a Prince with such fine ropes. They would take a fortune to purchase and why would they bother if money is all they want. Besides any kidnapper smart enough to sneak past the guard and the Garden, wouldn’t be dumb enough to leave the ropes loose enough that they he could slip out whenever he wanted. Nor would they take him to the place deep within the tunnels and out of all the places, it just happens to be the one that we first had sex in. Now would they your Highness?” Hangeng watched the Prince in challenge and the man stared back in fury.
“But why?” Siwon whispered in disbelief.
“Because he is a brat with nothing better to do then cause trouble to get attention,” Hangeng snapped. “So if he wants to play kidnapped, let him.” He turned on his heel without another word and strode from the room. Emotions swirled within him, most of them anger towards the man he was walking away from, but there was sadness too. The Heechul he had fallen in love with would never have stooped to this level simply for attention. It took several moments, but the muffled cry of outrage told him that Siwon and Sungmin were with him, for better or worse, and their Prince was left to deal with the consequences of his choices.
-o-o-o-o-o-
Leaving the Prince tied up in one of the tunnels probably hadn’t been his best decision when he had actually taken a moment to think over it. Neither had it been altogether wise when he had snapped at the captain that he had found the Prince and left him where he was for a bit longer, as if he was simply putting a child in time out. No matter how badly Heechul needed it, Hangeng wasn’t really in a position to do that sort of thing and get away with it.
A wiser man might have packed up and left, or at least not been in the middle of the Garden when the Prince came storming through in his cool anger. Every breath in the room had caught at his presence and the force of it, and held until he had exited again. If nothing else a man with any sort of brain would not have walked calmly to the Prince’s room when he had been called, not with the fits that Prince Heechul was prone to having.
Upon entering, Hangeng found the Prince seated in the deep arm chair and looking for all the world like the Prince he was. The look was new and he rarely saw the man bother with all the fabric or ornaments that would display his rank. It looked somehow right, yet at the same time Hangeng couldn’t help but think that he hardly deserved it.
He didn’t bow after entering, it would simply be a showy lie and there was no one else in the room to believe it. Instead he stood, loosely and seemingly relaxed meeting the Prince stare for stare. Heechul’s face was carefully blank but Hangeng could take a guess or two at what the man was feeling. “I would say I am surprised to see you here, but then I know you and you would never run now would you,” Heechul said calmly.
“I don’t believe in running away when I am needed, Your Highness,” he said pointedly.
There was a twitch, “No you would rather tie your Prince in a tunnel and leave him. You could be hung for that.”
“Then by all means, hang me. My life has been your plaything for years, how would this be any different?” Hangeng replied casually.
“I am the crown Prince! How dare you talk to me in this manner!” he snapped, anger breaking through his calm facade.
“Are you? Because I’m fairly certain you haven’t been the prince of anything for a very long time,” Hangeng said softly.
Heechul surged to his feet, the suddenness of his action upsetting the golden crown upon his head and causing it to slide onto the chair behind him forgotten. “How dare you speak to me like that?! Do you forget your place?! I should sell you down to the slavers in the neighboring kingdom and allow those savages to teach you a thing or two!”
“Why bother selling me there?” Hangeng challenged. “Why don’t you just sell me to the ones on your own docks? They would do the job well enough.”
“There are not slavers in this land!” Heechul snapped.
“Aren’t there?! Why don’t you ask Henry where the hell he came from, or were you too busy fucking him to even ask?” Hangeng growled.
“You don’t-”
“I don’t what?” Hangeng cut him off. “I don’t enjoy your screwing me anymore so I don’t have the right to comment on how you screw others? Is that it? Or maybe it is that I am too busy running your petty errands, fetching your fabrics or your shiny trinkets that you think I don’t see what you do?” Heechul’s face was brightening in anger but he couldn’t stop now that he had started. “Or perhaps it is that you have built your little fantasy world and you don’t want anyone shattering that. You have been nothing but a pouting child ever since mommy and daddy died.”
The slap was loud enough that he was certain they heard it in the Garden itself and even though he should have been expecting it, it stunned him into silence. “They were your family too,” Heechul said softly, his voice more dangerous than it had ever been. “Never speak of them in that way.”
Hangeng had hit a nerve, he knew, by mentioning the King and Queen that had died in a horrible accident that Heechul still felt responsible for. “At least I honor them by doing my best to care for what they loved. At least I am trying to be someone she could have looked up to,” he said softly. It was low to bring in the Princess, who had been killed along with his parents, but Hangeng didn’t know what else to do.
“Get out,” Heechul said dangerously. “Before I kill you myself.”
Hangeng inclined his head then, in a slight form of a bow and moved to the door. When he reached it he turned back to look at the Prince who was trembling with clenched fists in the middle of the room. “Open your eyes to what is going on around you, before it is too late.”
-o-o-o-o-o-
The pot made a satisfying noise as it shattered against the wall and he snarled at the streak of dirt it had left on the smooth surface. A part of him wished that the wall had been Hangeng’s head, if only because the man was more right then he wanted to admit.
He should have known it was a foolish idea to pretend to get kidnapped. Somehow his more romantic notions had convinced him that the fear of losing him would convince Hangeng to get over whatever it was that was keeping them apart but it seemed to have done just the opposite. He should have anticipated that, since after all he did pride himself on knowing people better than anyone else did.
The worst part was that nothing short of a full apology on his part was likely to fix this. Hangeng wasn’t the sort of man to simply forgive something that he felt was wrong without an apology first and Heechul wasn’t the sort to apologize, especially when he had done nothing wrong. Still the things Hangeng had said nagged at the back of his mind. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to relax into the evening activities until he had settled some of the things that had been said.
With anger in his steps he moved to his dresser and began to strip off the jewelry and ornamentation he had donned in order to appear as the Prince he was, for all the good it had done him. He threw the pieces into the general area they belonged haphazardly. Someone, likely not himself, would put them away properly later. While one hand was trying to work some sort of pin out of his clothing, his other reached out and pulled the long cord to summon a servant. No sooner had he pulled it, there was a young man in his room bowing deeply and awaiting his request.
“Bring Henry to me,” he snapped. Wisely the servant said nothing and scurried off to do as he was told.
By the time he had finished removing the bits and pieces from his person, Henry was kneeling on the floor waiting for him. That made him frown for reasons he couldn’t place, perhaps because none of his other Petals treated him quite like that. “You don’t need to do that,” he snapped. “A simple bow will do.”
Heechul moved back to his chair and scowled at the crown still laying there. After a moment’s thought he placed it on the table beside the chair since throwing it across the room to hope it landed near where it belonged would likely be a bad idea with another in the room. Henry was rising to his feet hesitantly when he settled on the chair. “Tell me, where do you come from?”
“A northern land,” Henry replied, sounding confused.
“I gathered that much by your accent and fair skin. How did you get here?” Heechul snapped. Henry was silent and looked down at his feet. “Answer me.” Perhaps irritation wasn’t the best approach, but he was too angry to do much of anything else.
“Slavers, my Prince,” Henry said softly.
Heechul looked at him expectantly and when nothing else was said he released a flustered sigh. “For heaven’s sake, I don’t care if you came out of an elephants ass, I simply want to know if there are slavers on my docks or not.”
Henry didn’t release a frightened noise, but he might as well have for as nervous as he looked under Heechul’s scrutiny. “I do not know my Prince. I was brought by a dock here, but I do not know if it was one of yours.”
“Did you travel through the forest to get here once you were off the ship?” Heechul pressed.
“No,” Henry answered quicker this time. “Just the city, my Prince.”
Heechul waited a moment so that he could suppress the anger growing in him at the boy’s announcement. Slavery was forbidden in his kingdom and had been since before his grandfather’s rule. Perhaps his advisor, who had found Henry for him, hadn’t been aware that he had been purchased through a local slave market, but Heechul wasn’t one to believe in blind possibilities.
“Thank you, Henry, you have pleased me. You may go now. Send in Kyuhyun,” Heechul told him in dismissal.
“Yes, my Lord,” Henry replied in confusion and bowed deeply. He hurried from the room, very likely afraid of Heechul asking anymore questions of him and not a minute later Kyuhyun strode in.
Unlike Henry, Kyuhyun was all confidence that Heechul almost admired. He bowed slightly, enough to be considered respectful and then looked at him in lazy question. “I wish to know information and I have heard that you are the one who hears and sees the most,” Heechul stated.
A sly grin crept its way across Kyuhyun’s face. “You could say that, Prince Heechul,” he replied, seemingly casual but Heechul could tell there was curiosity as well.
“Come then, have a seat. I have questions that you will answer,” Heechul gestured to the chair beside him and Kyuhyun’s grin widened.
“But of course my Prince,” the young man said, and he slipped onto the plush chair.
Part Two
Author: Kat_Elric
Team: AU
Rating: R
Fandom: Super Junior
Pairing: Heechul/Hangeng (other side pairings will occur or be hinted at)
Summary: The Prince of the land is a spoiled selfish brat concerned only with his own wellbeing and pleasure. Yet the one thing the prince wants, he can never have - his first and favorite Petal as his personal lover. However if something isn’t done fast none of it will matter as there won’t be a kingdom left for the Prince to rule over.
Author's Note: Thanks to my two wonderful betas who read through this for me. Also thanks for all the support from the team! You guys are great!
Prompt Used: T-ara - Wae Ireoni
In the Prince’s Garden
The Garden of the Prince was unlike any other garden seen in the land. It didn’t contain flowers, or trees, plants, or shrubs, fountains or sculptures, or anything traditionally thought of when a garden is motioned, yet it did boast the most exquisite beauty in all of the land. Beauty crafted in living and breathing flesh, each marked as one of the Prince’s very own. Petals, he called them, chosen for their beauty or perhaps some reason that only he knew, but chosen nevertheless. They were his to bring him pleasure until the time when he decided they were no longer a necessity.
“My Lord,” an older man said reverently as he stepped through the curtain separating The Garden from the rest of the palace and dropped to a knee. The Prince’s Petals, spread out on various plush cushions or surfaces, took no notice of him and carried on with whatever it was they were doing.
The Prince himself, lounging among a pile of pillows built up around him, had one of his favored Petals spread over his lap. The young man’s long legs were folded alongside the Prince’s own and he lay with his head on the Prince’s shoulder, back exposed to warm air and nude save for a pale blue cloth that bunched around his hips. The slender fingers of the Prince drifted over the young man’s smooth skin and although he was fully clothed, there was no way of knowing what had been occurring moments before.
There was no indication of the Prince having heard the man, and he continued softly, as if afraid to say the wrong thing. “We have found one that could be worthy of your Garden,” the man said softly.
“I will be the judge of that,” the Prince replied lazily, his fingers encouraged the Petal on his lap to lift his head and he pressed a slow kiss to man’s lips, enjoying how he willingly opened beneath him. He took his time appreciating what was his and exploring with lips and tongue something already intimately familiar to him. The man, still kneeling on the floor, looked away from the display, his cheeks flushing with red. “Present him,” the Prince ordered, moving from the mouth of the young man on his lap and stoking a hand down his back.
Quickly the man nodded and gestured for someone waiting just outside of the Garden to enter. A young boy stepped through the curtain wearing nothing but a scrap of fabric to preserve his modesty and clearly uncomfortable about the lack. The Prince’s eyes racked over his form, letting his feeling as he did so show on his face.
“Zhou mi darling,” he murmured to the man in his lap. “Be a dear and leave me for a moment,” as he spoke he watched the young man who had just entered his Garden. The young man’s eyes were locked on his hand that was sliding ever lower on the body in front of him, and the Prince took care to press fabric from the young man’s hips, baring him for the eyes of any looking. “Why don’t you have Kyuhyun see to you until I am done here.”
“Yes, my Prince,” Zhou mi purred, rising slowly and seemingly unbothered as the fabric slid from his hips leaving him bare and clearly aroused. The Prince watched as the new young man followed Zhou mi with his eyes as his Petal crossed the room to a bed where Kyuhyun was stretched out on his stomach reading a book. “Kui Xian,” Zhou mi murmured as he climbed onto the bed and stretched out on his back beside the young man. Without looking up from his book, Kyuhyun slid a hand to Zhou mi’s chest and flicked a nipple lightly before sliding his fingers down the young man’s stomach to his erection. They curled there, stroking slowly, while his other hand turned a page in his book.
“Come,” the Prince said, grinning at the new young man and watching as he inhaled deeply and snapped his eyes back to where they were supposed to be. The small scrap of fabric did nothing to hide the interest the young boy’s body found in what he had seen. When he reached the Prince’s feet he dropped to his knees, head bowed. His hands curled into fists on his legs, clearly in attempt to stop him from reaching to cover himself. “How old are you?”
“Twenty years, my Lord,” the boy said softly.
“Interesting,” the prince mused. The young man’s voice was soft and pleasing, and he looked to be barely sixteen years, not the twenty that he professed. “Come here and we will see if you are fit to be a Petal in my Garden.”
The young man moved forward, almost hesitantly, and the Prince waved away the man who had brought him with a simple gesture. The man seemed eager to leave and vanished from the room before the Prince had a chance to reconsider. “Face them,” the Prince murmured, watching with pleasure as the boy glanced up in surprise and his face flushed with embarrassment.
It took a moment to settle his body with his back to the Prince’s chest, sitting stiffly between his legs. “There is no harm in finding pleasure in Zhou mi’s body,” the Prince murmured in to the boy’s ear observing with pleasure the shudder that ran through his body for one reason or another. “If you please me, I will allow you to find pleasure with whomever you chose.” As if on cue Zhou mi released a low drawn out moan, and tilted his hips up into Kyuhyun’s hand. “Zhou mi would not object. He enjoys being touched.”
The Prince’s hand settled on the boy’s shoulder and he flinched, then immediately stilled. “Tell me,” the Prince said softly but still in clear command, “What is your name?”
“Henry,” the boy breathed, leaning into the Prince’s hand that was sliding slowly down his chest.
“Henry,” the Prince repeated, letting the foreign sound roll off his tongue. “Tell me, have you ever been touched like this?”
“No,” Henry whispered arching into his touch.
“Good,” slender fingers untied the knot of fabric at the young man’s hips that was holding it in place. “I like my Petal’s untouched.” He pulled the cloth away, exposing Henry to the warm air. A slight tension in the young man’s shoulders was the only response he received as he slid the fabric to the side. He was pleased by what he saw revealed beneath as was every other man in the Garden who snuck glances with varying degrees of cleverness at the boy.
The Prince’s fingers drifted lightly over the soft skin where the young man’s leg joined his body. He had been shaved carefully, very likely simply for his presentation to the Prince, and he found he rather liked that. The young man inhaled, a shuddery little gasp, “My Lord.”
“Prince Heechul, when it is just us in the Garden. Eventually you may be allowed to call me simply Heechul,” he purred as his fingers closed around Henry’s flesh. The young boy released a jumble of noise, his head dropping back to the shoulder of the Prince. “I can show you a world of pleasure as one of mine. You will want for nothing,” Heechul whispered huskily into his ear. “Do you choose this, Henry? Do you chose to be one of mine?” the Prince asked as his fingers lightly feathered down Henry’s erection.
“Y-yes,” Henry breathed out.
There was a soft rustle of fabric and Heechul looked up to lock eyes with the man who had just entered the room through one of the side doors. “Good. Welcome to my Garden my Petal,” Heechul told Henry, his fingers wrapping firmly around him. As he stroked the young man to completion as was his right, he never took his eyes off the man standing in the doorway.
-o-o-o-o-o-
“I added a new Petal to my Garden today,” Heechul purred, clearly pleased with himself and with the addition.
“I saw that,” the man agreed, leaving off how the Prince had done nothing more than accept the pretty little thing. That and abandon him to the clutches of the rest of his Garden as soon as he was finished. At least there were a few men in there who would be considerate of the boy, like Ryeowook, or at least more so then the Prince who came and went as he saw fit was.
“You know,” Prince Heechul murmured, “You are my only Petal who may come and go as he pleases.” His words sounded like it was the most esteemed privilege, not a right that he had earned over the long years of service to his Prince.
“The fabric you wanted came in. I collected a sample,” he said, choosing to ignore what could easily start an argument he didn’t want to see the end of.
“Oh?” the Prince whirled from the window of his private bedroom and fluttered close, any devious plan put aside for the moment. His fingers ran over the soft fabric and he lifted a corner of it for careful inspection. “It is satisfactory,” he declared. “Have them make me something from it.”
“Should I specify what?” the man asked dryly.
“No,” Heechul replied with a devious smirk, “let them guess.”
“I’m sure they will be thrilled,” he responded dutifully, shifting the fabric in his arms and turning to leave.
Suddenly the Prince was pressed against his body, his hands sliding beneath the simple fabric of his loose shirt to touch skin. “Hankyung I want you,” the Prince breathed his version of his name, sliding the evidence of his want along the man’s leg.
“You may have me whenever you choose my Prince,” he said dutifully. “Allow me to put this fabric down so it remains safe.”
“No,” Heechul growled a hand closing over Hangeng’s wrist to halt him. “I want you like when we were teenagers. Fucking like we were the last two living people in the world and loving every moment of it.”
“I will do my best to pretend,” he replied.
“I don’t want your pretend reactions,” Heechul hissed. “I want you.”
“I will do my best to please you,” Hangeng repeated.
Heechul snarled, suddenly angry. “Get out,” he said dangerously.
“Should I send someone in to take care of you?” Hangeng asked politely.
The Prince had moved back to the window and stood looking out at the courtyard below. “Send in Sungmin, he at least enjoys my attention as he should.”
“As you wish,” Hangeng replied with a deep bow, and moved from the room before Heechul could change his mind.
-o-o-o-o-o-
“Sungmin,” he called softly catching the man’s attention as he stepped into the Garden. “Heechul would like you to attend him.”
Sungmin, who was working on some sort of sophisticated beading project, laid it carefully aside and smirked. “You got him all riled up and can’t follow through?” he teased.
“Go before I break your jaw and send you to him that way,” Hangeng growled.
“Sounds kinky,” Sungmin laughed, and then he narrowed his eyes at another young man who was lounging nearby playing with a small turtle. “Yesung if you touch my things while I am gone I will kill you.” Yesung rolled his eyes and waved him away, poking at the tiny creature on his chest.
His message delivered, Hangeng turned to leave and then caught sight of another man spread out on a bed wearing nothing at all and changed his course accordingly. “Siwon,” he murmured as he neared. The man waved to him in acknowledgement and finished carefully printing something on a sheet of paper, likely from the books spread before him, before looking up.
Immediately the man frowned. “You’re upset. What did he do?”
Hangeng sighed and placed the fabric to the side of the bed in a neat pile leaving his hand free to reach out and trace the intricate tattoo on the back of the man’s shoulder, a flower as they all bore in mark of their position. “Nothing that I shouldn’t expect.”
Siwon’s face filled with sympathy. “You are his favorite,” he said gently. “And you used to take great pleasure in each other.”
“I know and I always knew there would be more, but now,” he waved a hand to encompass the room at large and the ten other men within it. Siwon had been the second addition to the Garden, back when they had both been teenagers, when he had only just begun to do the unthinkable.
To fall in love with the Prince was one thing -- who couldn’t help loving the man who provided every comfort they could ever need -- but to desire him to be his and his alone was quite another thing entirely. “I am sorry Hangeng,” Siwon said softly, using his true name.
“It isn’t your fault. In fact if it was only you I wouldn’t mind. Actually I don’t really think I would mind any of the men here, it is just that he stays here and does nothing. You don’t see the things I do Siwon.” The Prince’s Petals never left the Garden or the rooms immediately beyond it. They had everything provided for them in this wing of the palace and often the Prince himself simply came to the Garden to take pleasure in his Petals.
Hangeng had always been somewhat different. He had been bought as a child and given to a child Prince as a friend and eventual protector. Only when the Prince turned thirteen did his Garden begin to develop, first with Hangeng and then latter with the rest of his Petals. Yet Hangeng had never been confined to the Garden alone and often spent time in the City itself running errands for the Prince.
“I know,” Siwon replied sympathetically.
A sigh escaped his lips. “He is a bastard for never allowing you to wear clothing,” Hangeng murmured.
Siwon smiled. “I’m used to it.” His nakedness seemed to truly not bother him any longer and since it was never cold enough to require any sort of covering, he had never found reason to complain or protest the fact that his Prince enjoyed seeing his skin bare, whenever he pleased.
“I’d best be going. Heechul will have a fit if he comes out and I am still here,” he said finally.
“Perhaps one day,” Siwon began and then stopped.
“What?” Hangeng prompted.
“No, it’s nothing. Be safe in your travels,” Siwon told him, leaning up and kissing him gently.
“I will,” Hangeng replied, adding a kiss to the man’s forehead before gathering the fabric into his arms and walking away.
-o-o-o-o-o-
“I swear he will be the death of me,” the woman said as she gazed at the fabric. “If I guess his mind wrong he will be down here ranting and raving about how I am incapable of doing my job.”
“No, he won’t,” Hangeng reassured her as he looked over a fine dress she had displayed in the window. “He doesn’t leave the palace anymore. He will simply send me with his nasty words, of which I will give you the abridged version.”
She smiled at that. “I suppose that is true. How do you think our Prince would like a nice new robe out of this?”
“Best make him some party ware too. There was lust in his eyes when he stared after your fabric and anything he lusts for he enjoys showing off,” Hangeng told her, moving from the dress to a fine pair of loose pants and a shirt with matching elegant trim. It would look exquisite on Siwon.
“So true. I will do that. Thank you child,” she paused for a moment and watched him look over her work. “You can have that if you like. I know you can afford it.”
Hangeng looked up at her and blushed. “Oh no. I was simply thinking how nice it would look on a friend of mine, but that would be going directly against the Prince’s orders and we know how that would go over.”
“That Prince,” she muttered, “Is a spoiled brat who needs a good whipping. His mother is likely turning in her grave knowing what he has been up to.”
“Yes well you best not be heard saying those things, or you might be put to death or worse,” Hangeng told her.
“Oh heavens I would never want to work in his Garden!”
He laughed at that, not at all surprised the Garden was so well known about. “Don’t worry my fair lady. Only men are permitted in his Garden until the time he finds a wife.”
She sighed with relief. “That is for the best. We wouldn’t want several little ones from his loins running amok.” Then as if only just realizing what she had said her eyes widened. “My tongue has gotten the best of me, I better get my hands busy so it will be still before I lose it all together.”
Hangeng smiled. “I won’t tell. I’ll come to collect the clothing in a few days?”
“Best be tomorrow,” she said with a sigh, “You know how little the Prince likes to wait.”
“True,” Hangeng agreed. “Tomorrow then.” She nodded and turned her attention to the fabric in front of her, a clear dismissal. He offered her one last smile before slipping from the shop to the little tinkle of the bell.
On the trip to the palace he took the long way around, past the market and paused to by a bag of bread and another of fresh fruit. As he walked he distributed his purchases to those along the street who needed it. There were more now than there had ever been, more forced out of homes and jobs by increasing taxes and fines that they couldn’t pay. So many that his bags were empty before he was even half of the way back to the palace and he could offer the children and adults alike nothing but sad smiles as he walked.
It angered him that the one man who could do something about their situation, who could make a difference in the land, was too busy worrying about things like fabric and how loud he could get one of his little whores to moan. The Garden had never been designed to be what it had become. There had been a time when he had spent a great deal of time looking into the history behind it and was appalled at the thing Heechul had made it.
The Garden was designed to help the Prince or King, but only occasionally did that help ever traditionally merit something of the sexual nature. Even then if it did it was something that happened between only a few choice members of the Garden and the Prince, not all of them. Yet Heechul seemed determined to collect and use people, all the while forgetting the people that depended on him for their livelihood.
His thoughts were dark as he neared the palace and he frowned up at its splendor. Yet all the dark and gloomy thoughts couldn’t keep him from noticing the panicked scramble about the area. Something was wrong.
-o-o-o-o-o-
If he hadn’t already figured out that something was off, he would have known for certain when he stepped into the Garden. The men weren’t lounging like they normally did, but instead had gathered in small groups, looking somewhere between panicked and angry.
“What is going on?” Hangeng asked as he crossed the room to Siwon, who apparently did own a pair of pants and had put them on his body. That couldn’t be a good sign.
“The Prince is gone,” he mumbled, casting a glance to the numerous guards hurrying about.
“Gone?!” Hangeng replied shocked.
“Yes. Kidnapped. There was a note, but they wouldn’t allow us to see it,” Siwon sounded devastated.
“How does one bratty Prince that never leaves his section of the palace go and get himself kidnapped?” Hangeng hissed. He stormed past, leaving Siwon flustered in the Garden, and walked into Heechul’s chambers without an invitation. Inside the captain of the guard was snapping orders at the multitude of soldiers racing around. Hangeng ignored them all and stormed to the small table where a single sheet of paper lay untouched. Snatching it from the smooth surface, and ignoring the shout of protest he scanned the delicate script. It detailed, in delicate letters, that the Prince had indeed been kidnapped and demanded an outrageous sum of money be delivered to a designated location if they ever wished to see the man alive again.
“What do you think you are doing?!” the captain snarled at him. He didn’t answer as the ransom note was ripped from his fingers. He was finished with it anyway. “Get back out there in the Garden where you belong. Leave this to the professionals.”
There were a thousand things he could have said to that, but he said none of them, turning instead and doing as he had been commanded. Siwon was waiting for him just inside the Garden with hopeful eyes. ‘I need you,’ he snarled in his native tongue, the language he had so painstakingly taught Siwon if only so they would have a way of communication that no one else knew.
‘Heechul?’ Siwon asked, worry coloring his voice. Hangeng didn’t have the heart to speak his mind on the subject, not even to Siwon, so he held his tongue on the matter.
“Sungmin. You are with us. The rest of you stay here, play dumb, and for heaven sake don’t let any of those morons leave,” he said with a wave of his hand towards Heechul’s personal chamber.
Zhou mi sent him a wicked grin and then suddenly his expression changed to one of terror. “No, you cannot leave! What if they return for us?! We are his prize possessions worth almost as much as he is!” he exclaimed softly.
Kyuhyun rolled his eyes. “They won’t leave,” he assured Hangeng.
“Good,” he told them, then turned and crossed the room. Against the wall rich curtains hung and he pulled one to the side to reveal a panel with a series of depressions set into it. His fingers touched a number of them in an order known to very few and there was a hiss before a section of the wall slid away to reveal a dark tunnel. Hangeng glanced over his shoulder to find Sungmin and Siwon both dressed in dark clothing that would both cover their body and not hinder their movements. He nodded to them before slipping into the tunnel knowing they would follow and as soon as they had, it hissed closed behind them.
-o-o-o-o-o-
“What is this?” Sungmin asked quietly.
Hangeng spared him the obvious answer that they were in a tunnel with what appeared to be a softly glowing ceiling and told him what he knew of them instead. “As far as I know, these tunnels run all over the city and can spill out into various places. The monarchs have always known of their existence and used them to get from place to place secretly and safely. When we were young, Heechul and I used to play in these tunnels. I am fairly certain that I know where he is.” Sungmin didn’t press him for more information and for that he was glad.
Before too long the tunnel turned downward sharply, signaling that they were out of the walls of the palace and entering the truly underground portion of the tunnel. Hangeng remembered running through he as a child, following Heechul and exploring all the wonders that were here for children to find. Just as he expected the tunnel turned sharply and there was a large stone door sealed tightly shut. The locking mechanism was one that could be opened only with the correct physical key, which he did not have.
“Now what?” Siwon whispered.
“This is what Sungmin is here for,” Hangeng declared sending the man a pointed look that may or may not have been seen through the dimness.
“I don’t know what you expect me to do with that,” Sungmin murmured.
“Don’t pretend as though I am dumb. You were caught, by chance, trying to steal from the palace itself and instead of having your hands removed Heechul took a liking to you and added you to his Garden,” Hangeng said simply.
Sungmin grumbled something under his breath and then sighed. “Fine, but that doesn’t mean I can unlock it.” He moved to the door and slipped his hand into his pocket. Whatever he removed was too small for Hangeng to catch sight of in the low light but a moment later there was a click and Sungmin pushed the door open.
“You were a thief?” Siwon asked, mouth opened slightly in shock of the news.
Sungmin sent him a smirk. “What? Not all of us can be part of the priesthood. Oh wait,” his grin turned positively lecherous and Hangeng sighed.
“Not now,” he growled, pulling Siwon forward and through the doorway leaving Sungmin to follow after them.
There were three more doors like the first baring their way that Sungmin unlocked for them and a fourth that was slightly different and took a few curses as well as a good kick to get open. Beyond it was a young man who appeared completely startled to see them and using his surprise against him, Siwon swiftly knocked him unconscious with a well placed blow. After him three more men fell to Siwon’s skills and one last door to Sungmin’s talent, before they reached their destination at last.
The room held no less then twelve men and in their center tied to a chair with a strip of fabric over his mouth and wide eyes was their Prince. Immediately Sungmin reached into his pockets and Hangeng grabbed his shoulder. “Siwon,” he said simply, just the man’s name, but it was all that was needed for him to move into action.
It was as elegant and beautiful as a dance, watching Siwon fight, and in truth he didn’t really think it could be called fighting at all. The man slid seamlessly between opponents, dropping them with little more than a touch, and leaving no time for retaliation. It was marvelous to watch and while Sungmin very likely intended a massacre to get to their Prince, not a man in the room would wake up with so much as a headache from Siwon’s touch.
When the last had fallen, Hangeng heard Sungmin whistle appreciatively as he moved forward towards Heechul. “Remind me never to cross you,” Sungmin muttered and Hangeng rolled his eyes. He didn’t need to look to see the proud look or the flushed cheeks that the remark would have produced.
Beside Heechul at last, he knelt and looked at the ropes. They were fine silken ropes of the best quality, tied loosely enough that not only would they not harm the Prince, he could also slip free at will. “Is he alright?” Siwon’s worried voice came from just behind him.
“Because if he isn’t no one else in here will be either,” Sungmin growled.
“He is perfectly fine, aren’t you Heechul,” Hangeng snapped. The Prince made a small noise and Hangeng didn’t bother to look up. His fingers pulled free the knot near Heechul’s ankles and then he gave the rope a sharp tug. Obediently the coils tightened against the flesh of the Prince and satisfied of their new tightness, he re-tied it, using a knot that he had learned as a child, a real knot that would not be simple to pull free.
He was halfway through the same process on the Prince’s hands when he heard a growl muffled by fabric. A glance up showed him the Price’s eyes, bright with fury. Hangeng ignored him and tied his hands tightly to the chair once more. “There,” he murmured.
“Hangeng?” Siwon said hesitantly.
Hangeng stood and dusted his hands off. “If the Prince would like to play at being kidnapped then let’s let him play.”
“I- what?” Sungmin asked.
The Prince was glaring at Hangeng with such intensity that the man wondered for a moment why he wasn’t dead on the spot. “No kidnapper ties up a Prince with such fine ropes. They would take a fortune to purchase and why would they bother if money is all they want. Besides any kidnapper smart enough to sneak past the guard and the Garden, wouldn’t be dumb enough to leave the ropes loose enough that they he could slip out whenever he wanted. Nor would they take him to the place deep within the tunnels and out of all the places, it just happens to be the one that we first had sex in. Now would they your Highness?” Hangeng watched the Prince in challenge and the man stared back in fury.
“But why?” Siwon whispered in disbelief.
“Because he is a brat with nothing better to do then cause trouble to get attention,” Hangeng snapped. “So if he wants to play kidnapped, let him.” He turned on his heel without another word and strode from the room. Emotions swirled within him, most of them anger towards the man he was walking away from, but there was sadness too. The Heechul he had fallen in love with would never have stooped to this level simply for attention. It took several moments, but the muffled cry of outrage told him that Siwon and Sungmin were with him, for better or worse, and their Prince was left to deal with the consequences of his choices.
-o-o-o-o-o-
Leaving the Prince tied up in one of the tunnels probably hadn’t been his best decision when he had actually taken a moment to think over it. Neither had it been altogether wise when he had snapped at the captain that he had found the Prince and left him where he was for a bit longer, as if he was simply putting a child in time out. No matter how badly Heechul needed it, Hangeng wasn’t really in a position to do that sort of thing and get away with it.
A wiser man might have packed up and left, or at least not been in the middle of the Garden when the Prince came storming through in his cool anger. Every breath in the room had caught at his presence and the force of it, and held until he had exited again. If nothing else a man with any sort of brain would not have walked calmly to the Prince’s room when he had been called, not with the fits that Prince Heechul was prone to having.
Upon entering, Hangeng found the Prince seated in the deep arm chair and looking for all the world like the Prince he was. The look was new and he rarely saw the man bother with all the fabric or ornaments that would display his rank. It looked somehow right, yet at the same time Hangeng couldn’t help but think that he hardly deserved it.
He didn’t bow after entering, it would simply be a showy lie and there was no one else in the room to believe it. Instead he stood, loosely and seemingly relaxed meeting the Prince stare for stare. Heechul’s face was carefully blank but Hangeng could take a guess or two at what the man was feeling. “I would say I am surprised to see you here, but then I know you and you would never run now would you,” Heechul said calmly.
“I don’t believe in running away when I am needed, Your Highness,” he said pointedly.
There was a twitch, “No you would rather tie your Prince in a tunnel and leave him. You could be hung for that.”
“Then by all means, hang me. My life has been your plaything for years, how would this be any different?” Hangeng replied casually.
“I am the crown Prince! How dare you talk to me in this manner!” he snapped, anger breaking through his calm facade.
“Are you? Because I’m fairly certain you haven’t been the prince of anything for a very long time,” Hangeng said softly.
Heechul surged to his feet, the suddenness of his action upsetting the golden crown upon his head and causing it to slide onto the chair behind him forgotten. “How dare you speak to me like that?! Do you forget your place?! I should sell you down to the slavers in the neighboring kingdom and allow those savages to teach you a thing or two!”
“Why bother selling me there?” Hangeng challenged. “Why don’t you just sell me to the ones on your own docks? They would do the job well enough.”
“There are not slavers in this land!” Heechul snapped.
“Aren’t there?! Why don’t you ask Henry where the hell he came from, or were you too busy fucking him to even ask?” Hangeng growled.
“You don’t-”
“I don’t what?” Hangeng cut him off. “I don’t enjoy your screwing me anymore so I don’t have the right to comment on how you screw others? Is that it? Or maybe it is that I am too busy running your petty errands, fetching your fabrics or your shiny trinkets that you think I don’t see what you do?” Heechul’s face was brightening in anger but he couldn’t stop now that he had started. “Or perhaps it is that you have built your little fantasy world and you don’t want anyone shattering that. You have been nothing but a pouting child ever since mommy and daddy died.”
The slap was loud enough that he was certain they heard it in the Garden itself and even though he should have been expecting it, it stunned him into silence. “They were your family too,” Heechul said softly, his voice more dangerous than it had ever been. “Never speak of them in that way.”
Hangeng had hit a nerve, he knew, by mentioning the King and Queen that had died in a horrible accident that Heechul still felt responsible for. “At least I honor them by doing my best to care for what they loved. At least I am trying to be someone she could have looked up to,” he said softly. It was low to bring in the Princess, who had been killed along with his parents, but Hangeng didn’t know what else to do.
“Get out,” Heechul said dangerously. “Before I kill you myself.”
Hangeng inclined his head then, in a slight form of a bow and moved to the door. When he reached it he turned back to look at the Prince who was trembling with clenched fists in the middle of the room. “Open your eyes to what is going on around you, before it is too late.”
-o-o-o-o-o-
The pot made a satisfying noise as it shattered against the wall and he snarled at the streak of dirt it had left on the smooth surface. A part of him wished that the wall had been Hangeng’s head, if only because the man was more right then he wanted to admit.
He should have known it was a foolish idea to pretend to get kidnapped. Somehow his more romantic notions had convinced him that the fear of losing him would convince Hangeng to get over whatever it was that was keeping them apart but it seemed to have done just the opposite. He should have anticipated that, since after all he did pride himself on knowing people better than anyone else did.
The worst part was that nothing short of a full apology on his part was likely to fix this. Hangeng wasn’t the sort of man to simply forgive something that he felt was wrong without an apology first and Heechul wasn’t the sort to apologize, especially when he had done nothing wrong. Still the things Hangeng had said nagged at the back of his mind. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to relax into the evening activities until he had settled some of the things that had been said.
With anger in his steps he moved to his dresser and began to strip off the jewelry and ornamentation he had donned in order to appear as the Prince he was, for all the good it had done him. He threw the pieces into the general area they belonged haphazardly. Someone, likely not himself, would put them away properly later. While one hand was trying to work some sort of pin out of his clothing, his other reached out and pulled the long cord to summon a servant. No sooner had he pulled it, there was a young man in his room bowing deeply and awaiting his request.
“Bring Henry to me,” he snapped. Wisely the servant said nothing and scurried off to do as he was told.
By the time he had finished removing the bits and pieces from his person, Henry was kneeling on the floor waiting for him. That made him frown for reasons he couldn’t place, perhaps because none of his other Petals treated him quite like that. “You don’t need to do that,” he snapped. “A simple bow will do.”
Heechul moved back to his chair and scowled at the crown still laying there. After a moment’s thought he placed it on the table beside the chair since throwing it across the room to hope it landed near where it belonged would likely be a bad idea with another in the room. Henry was rising to his feet hesitantly when he settled on the chair. “Tell me, where do you come from?”
“A northern land,” Henry replied, sounding confused.
“I gathered that much by your accent and fair skin. How did you get here?” Heechul snapped. Henry was silent and looked down at his feet. “Answer me.” Perhaps irritation wasn’t the best approach, but he was too angry to do much of anything else.
“Slavers, my Prince,” Henry said softly.
Heechul looked at him expectantly and when nothing else was said he released a flustered sigh. “For heaven’s sake, I don’t care if you came out of an elephants ass, I simply want to know if there are slavers on my docks or not.”
Henry didn’t release a frightened noise, but he might as well have for as nervous as he looked under Heechul’s scrutiny. “I do not know my Prince. I was brought by a dock here, but I do not know if it was one of yours.”
“Did you travel through the forest to get here once you were off the ship?” Heechul pressed.
“No,” Henry answered quicker this time. “Just the city, my Prince.”
Heechul waited a moment so that he could suppress the anger growing in him at the boy’s announcement. Slavery was forbidden in his kingdom and had been since before his grandfather’s rule. Perhaps his advisor, who had found Henry for him, hadn’t been aware that he had been purchased through a local slave market, but Heechul wasn’t one to believe in blind possibilities.
“Thank you, Henry, you have pleased me. You may go now. Send in Kyuhyun,” Heechul told him in dismissal.
“Yes, my Lord,” Henry replied in confusion and bowed deeply. He hurried from the room, very likely afraid of Heechul asking anymore questions of him and not a minute later Kyuhyun strode in.
Unlike Henry, Kyuhyun was all confidence that Heechul almost admired. He bowed slightly, enough to be considered respectful and then looked at him in lazy question. “I wish to know information and I have heard that you are the one who hears and sees the most,” Heechul stated.
A sly grin crept its way across Kyuhyun’s face. “You could say that, Prince Heechul,” he replied, seemingly casual but Heechul could tell there was curiosity as well.
“Come then, have a seat. I have questions that you will answer,” Heechul gestured to the chair beside him and Kyuhyun’s grin widened.
“But of course my Prince,” the young man said, and he slipped onto the plush chair.
Part Two