Chrysanthemum Terrace
Title: Chrysanthemum Terrace
Pairing: Hankyung/Heechul
Genre: Multi Chap, historical!au
Word Count: 3,941
Chapter: {1/4?}
Rating: NC-17
Synopsis: Two nations sick of war try to end things once and for all -- but what else will get caught in the cross-hairs?
A/N: Wow, hello everyone! Yes, I am in fact still alive. Because of things happening in my life I was forced to neglect fic writing for a while. But we're back, baby. Woo!
Also, I would like to formally apologize in advanced to anyone who speak Chinese who is reading this fic =/////= because you're probably going to die from secondhand embarrassment of my awful Chinese in this. Please tell me what I can change!! I'm still a white belt in Chinese orz
Well, enjoy~
Heechul swallowed hard, every fiber of his being on high alert. This was a situation that he probably wouldn’t be able to get himself out of. Alive, anyway. And he’d been in many a predicament, but this, this topped them all.
There he was, behind enemy lines, with nothing but his spear and his trembling courage. The village sent him out believing he would never get this far, couldn’t possibly reach past the Han border, but here he was, most definitely caught.
He wasn’t quite sure where he was. After sneaking past the border he immediately tried to find a hiding place, for then he was completely exposed. It didn’t occur to him that he could’ve walked right into the gathering place of an unknown number of enemy soldiers.
Footsteps. Yes, this was it, he was done for, now. Whichever soldier entered would surely kill him right on the spot and hang his hyde as a trophy. He shuddered and almost dropped his spear as the figure of the soldier entered his vision.
Heechul had never seen one of the Han soldiers this closely, only stole glances as he snuck about. The soldier looked at him with a start, obviously not expecting a person to be in the room. His eyes narrowed as he realized that Heechul wasn’t one of his own.
“你是谁？” the soldier asked skeptically, in the language that made Heechul shudder, a language made to strike fear in the hearts of his people. Chinese.
Heechul tried to stand up as straight as he could and tried to control the shaking of his hands on his weapon, but it was proving extremely difficult. This man was just how the Hans were described to him; tall, as this man was distinctly taller than Heechul himself, with distinct facial features, although this man was oddly unique looking. But the main question on Heechul’s mind was if he was going to kill him quickly, or make him suffer.
The soldier examined him, looking at him almost curiously. It seemed as though he hadn’t seen a Goguryeo either, much like Heechul had never seen a Han. He held his breath as the soldier came closer, a little too close for his own comfort, staring intently at his face, his neck, his chest, as if sizing him up. This was by far the scariest situation Heechul had ever been in.
Heechul screwed his eyes shut in a bracing motion as the man went behind him. A touch to his shoulder made him flinch, preparing for pain but instead, feeling the shoulder of his top being pushed to the side. His skin crawled, opening his eyes in confusion, but then he remembered why. The tattoo on his shoulder blade.
“高句麗,” the soldier muttered, and Heechul knew this word, knew this was what the Hans called the people of his own village. Hearing it in Chinese made him shiver.
The hand pushed his sleeve back up with surprising gentleness, and Heechul could breathe again. The man was in front of him now, staring at him in a way that didn’t seem at all threatening.
“Are you going to kill me?” Heechul wondered aloud, just over a whisper. The man cocked his head to the side in confusion. “Kill,” Heechul said slowly, making a slicing motion over his neck, and then pointing to the man. “You kill me?”
The soldier made a noise of understanding, and shook his head quickly. “没有.”
Now Heechul was not only scared out of his wits, but confused as well. Any Han would jump at the opportunity to skin a Goguryeo, or at least, that’s what he was taught. Then what was this man to do with him? Send him home free with a slap on the wrists? Keep him as a slave? He really hoped it was the first one.
Instead, the man held out his hand. Heechul raised an eyebrow. The man put his hand out again in response. Heechul hesitantly presented him with his wrist, and he took it with a firm hold.
“跟我来。好吗？” Heechul didn’t know what else to do but nod.
He was led down a corridor, and as they went further down he could hear more voices. The realization then dawned on him that he was being shared. The man wanted to let his group all take part in killing their captive. “No, no,” Heechul said quickly, trying to back up, but the hold on his wrist was too tight.
“冷静下来,” the man said slowly and quietly. Heechul’s breathing only took quicker pace. This was it, this was how he would die. He’d be torn apart limb from limb, crying in agony only to have his killers laugh at him. This would be his fate. “哎!” he said, a little more forcefully, putting a finger to his own lips. Heechul swallowed his fear, but he knew the man could feel his arm shaking.
Finally he unlocked his knees and followed the man once more, and soon, they were out of the corridor and amongst more Hans than Heechul had ever seen in his life.
The minute Heechul stepped out, all movement ceased. Drinks were put down, hands quickly moved to weapons, ready to be pulled at the first sight of danger. This was obviously a camp full of soldiers.
“什么？” said a stoic looking man in the corner, his pointed spear already in position and ready. “高句麗?”
“高句麗,” his captor confirmed. He went on to say more things to his company, leaving Heechul to only wonder what was going on. He felt eyes on him all over the room, much like when he first met his captor. The Hans in front of him all had similar physical build, and some were even taller than his captor. Heechul felt dwarfed surrounded by them, even though he always thought his own height was nothing to scoff at. Despite the men’s bodies looking the same for the most part, he was surprised to see that their faces were all quite different, more than he had imagined. He also noticed that compared to the other men, his captor was quite unique looking.
Soon the speaking ceased, and there was a small tug at Heechul’s wrist to get his attention. His captor nodded once and Heechul followed him as they left the room, eyes still on him every second.
After a short walk, they reached another room, a small, tidy bedroom, by the look of it.
“你会睡在这里。” The man pointed to the bed, and then to Heechul, then to himself.
Oh no. He was not sharing a bed with a man that he thought was going to murder him just over twenty minutes ago. Heechul shook his head fervently and pointed to the floor.
“你确定吗？” he asked, and Heechul nodded and sat down on the hard floor.
“Yes, I’ll sleep on the floor,” Heechul said. “Sorry.”
The man nodded in understanding and took one pillow and a quilt from the bed, and placed it on the floor next to him. Heechul took it slowly, but thankfully.
As the man blew out the single candle on the small table next to the bed, he heard a simple, “晚安。”
--
Han Geng woke up and was almost surprised to remember he had let the stranger in his room, but as he recalled the events of the night before, he was able to relax.
The man looked cold and uncomfortable laying on the floor. He felt bad, but he did offer the bed. He was still asleep, his hair messy and pushed at different angles, his unconscious face looking far more calm then he remembered last time he looked at him. He looked so scared last night, he could only imagine how the stranger felt, finding himself in the midst of a whole other people who didn’t speak his language, not knowing if he would live or die. Hopefully by now the stranger realized that he would live, and would no longer have a need to be afraid.
How Han Geng was going to successfully hide the man and keep him safe, well, he didn’t know. But he just didn’t have the heart to kill him. He was trained almost all his life to kill a Goguryeo if he saw one, but actually seeing the man… he looked so scared and delicate, and Han Geng wouldn't have had a human heart if he were able to slit his throat.
Wu Chun said that the stranger could stay if he gave them information on the opposing side, but would this man really betray his whole race just so he could live? This was going to be really difficult. He’d have to keep an eye on him at all times, or else one of the other men would snatch him and kill him for their own satisfaction.
And this man… to be honest, he was a thing of beauty. He’d been told that the Goguryeos were smaller, looked softer, but had short tempers and an undeniable will to finish the job, to kill before they were killed themselves. This man had such soft features on his face that Han Geng had to fight the urge to touch him, to trace the dips and lines of his visage. But the easiness of his face didn’t go all the way through him, because he had long, bony limbs and he looked sharp, like he could cut diamonds. Prominent collar bones showed through the displacement of the neckline on his top, and lengthy slender fingers kept the quilt pulled around his torso.
He didn’t even know his name.
The man began to stir, so Han Geng quickly looked away and changed his clothes at lightening speed. After being clothed, he kneeled down on the floor next to the stranger.
“Hey,” he whispered, pushing his shoulder a bit. “Hey, it’s morning.”
His eyes began to flutter open. “뭐?” he asked, voice still laced with sleep.
“Morning,” Han Geng repeated, standing up. He pointed to the extra pair of clothes laying on the bed, and the stranger made a noise of acknowledgment. “I will be outside the door waiting,” he said, and he left him to get dressed.
After a few moment of sitting cross legged outside the door, the man emerged in fresh dress and looked somewhat awake. He stared at Han Geng expectantly.
“Food?” Han Geng asked, mimicking eating.
“아... 그래, 배고파,” he said meekly. It was interesting, he was acting even more quiet than the night before, which was odd to Han Geng, because shouldn’t he be happy to be alive? Shouldn’t that give him a small sense of comfort? Perhaps he didn’t care to deal with the language barrier, and Han Geng could understand that. He nodded and walked the stranger to the room where they stored the food.
As they were eating their small breakfast, Han Geng decided to ask the question that had been on the back of his tongue. He put his chopsticks down and motioned to himself. “Han Geng.” He pointed to the man. “You?”
“이름이 뭐에요?” he asked. “Han Geng?” He stumbled over the foreign syllables.
“Yes, Han Geng,” he said, smiling. He pointed back at the stranger. “You?”
“Kim Heechul,” he said clearly. “Heechul.”
The name was interesting. He hadn’t heard many of the Goguryeo names before, only the names of the main leaders of the group, but this name was different from the ones he had heard. He liked it.
The way Heechul said his name was funny, and it made him want to hear him speak Chinese.
Soon they had finished their meal, and Han Geng had an important person that Heechul needed to meet.
--
Now that Heechul knew his captor’s name, it was starting to become a bit too personal. At least for now he knew he was safe, so the fear of death was put to rest, but he was still a captive. He was still at the mercy of these people.
Han Geng was not what he had expected; he actually seemed quite kind, not the emotionless killing machine he was sure he would encounter. He realized he was very lucky to have had Han Geng find him than another Han.
But why was this man treating him so well? Possibly Heechul could be an asset to them, a double agent of sorts, and they needed to keep him willing to perform those tasks for them. Would he even be able to do what they asked of him? If he didn’t, he could only imagine the consequences.
Heechul didn’t know where he was being taken, but his questions were soon answered when they entered a room with paintings and scrolls lining the walls, and a man sitting cross legged on the table, eyes closed in concentration. He looked completely in peace, and Heechul almost felt bad that they would be disturbing him.
“你好,” Han Geng greeted, and the man greeted back without opening his eyes.
“你需要什么？” the man asked.
Heechul figured that Han Geng was telling the story of how they found him, because he kept pointing towards him, and he heard his name and village name a few times. After the anecdote, the man finally opened his eyes and looked at Heechul.
“You’re a lucky man, you know,” he said in Heechul’s native tongue, to his immense surprise. “It’s amazing that you’re alive.” He got down from his table and approached Heechul, still in awe. “I am Zhou Mi, and you must be the Goguryeo the whole village is abuzz about, Kim Heechul.”
“Yes,” Heechul said, relieved that he could speak his own language again with people being able to understand. “How do you know Korean?”
“You could say i’m a traveler of sorts,” said Zhou Mi. “I’ve seen where you’re from, and I know your people. I’ve been especially interested in your kind.”
“Remarkable,” Heechul could only mutter.
“But alas, i’m not here to exchange stories of travel with you,” he said. “I’m here to act as translator between you and Han Geng here.” He pointed to said man, who looked utterly engrossed in listening to the different language being spoken in front of him. “我将开始。” He looked at Han Geng expectantly.
Han Geng spoke, and Zhou Mi immediately got to work. “He says that he is not here to hurt you, he promises. He is not your captor, but more of a… protector,” he said. “The other men think you can be of use. It’s believed that you can give the Hans valuable information about your own people. You can stay here safely if you comply.”
“What sort of information?” Heechul asked, and Zhou Mi asked Han Geng in Chinese.
“He says battle strategy, mostly,” he said. “And what your people think of coming to an agreement.”
“A truce?”
“That’s what i’m led to believe.”
Han Geng spoke again, and Zhou Mi laughed a little. “He says he’ll try his best to make your experience here pleasant.”
“Tell him that… i’m very thankful,” Heechul said, and Zhou Mi did. “And may I ask… when am I allowed home?”
Zhou Mi asked, and Han Geng frowned. “He says he doesn’t know, and that he’s sorry.”
“Ah,” Heechul sighed.
“Well, that’s all I’ve to say for today,” Zhou Mi said. “You’re welcome to come back if you have any questions, which i’m sure you have many.” He climbed back up on his table and crossed his legs, back in the calm, meditative position. “Good day, and it was very nice meeting you.” He closed his eyes, and Han Geng and Heechul took that as their cue to leave.
Heechul kept walking back towards the room they spent the night in, but apparently Han Geng had another idea.
“这种方式,” he said, pointing to the other side of the corridor towards the door outside.
“Why?” Heechul said, but followed him anyway.
The sun was shining bright when they entered the courtyard of sorts. It was free of people, serene, and quiet. In the corner was a small pond, and he could see fish occasionally touching the surface.
Leaning against the side of the building was what looked to be an instrument, and Han Geng picked it up and showed him. Heechul took it from him carefully and examined it, and was amazed at the intricacy of its build. The instrument, made from wood, had well over ten strings stretched across it. It was quite heavy, too. The body of the instrument was carved with carefully placed designs and patterns, and whoever created it must have put years into it. He passed it back to Han Geng.
“古箏,” he said, sitting down on the ground and putting the instrument in his lap. He began to pluck at the strings, and soon it turned into a song that Heechul would compare to the changing of the seasons, winter to spring. It was so beautiful, and Heechul never wanted it to end as he laid down in the grass and listened. He had never heard anything like this back home, or even seen an instrument like the one being played.
Soon the song ended, and Heechul sat up and smiled at Han Geng in thanks. He only muttered something with a smile as he looked down bashfully.
They sat out in the yard for a while, and while this went on, Heechul thought. He thought about many things, if he should still be frightened, things he’d have to tell Zhou Mi about his village, and Han Geng. He found himself thinking about him often. The man interested him, and he wondered what made him want to save him in the first place. Han Geng seemed very calm, relatively care free, and he seemed to be able to smile about everything. He was so different, different than anyone Heechul had ever met, in more ways than one. He felt somewhat connected to him, even though they couldn’t understand each other at all. Heechul didn’t feel threatened, and if he had to choose a protector in this foreign land, he’d definitely choose Han Geng.
--
As night fell, Han Geng really hoped that Heechul wouldn’t want to sleep on the floor again. It was getting colder each night, and surely Heechul would freeze on the floor. Maybe he just didn’t want to share? Then Heechul could have the bed, and he would take the floor. He wanted to be hospitable.
Heechul entered the room having been changed into nightwear that Han Geng “borrowed” from another soldier, and that fact was glaringly obvious as the clothing didn’t quite fit him right. It would have to do for now, though, and it was much more comfortable.
“Bed?” Han Geng asked, pointing. Heechul nodded and hesitantly climbed on and beneath the covers. Hankyung was glad and sat down on the floor where the extra pillow and blanket was from the night before, and started to get himself comfortable until Heechul interrupted.
“아니, 아니,” he said, shaking his head. Han Geng looked at him in confusion. “침대.” He pointed to the bed.
“Really?” Han Geng said, and Heechul nodded. He moved over to the side of the bed to make room and prove his point. “Thank you, Heechul.”
Heechul seemed to almost blush as he buried his head in the pillow. Han Geng laughed and laid down.
Time went by like that, both laying in the bed facing away from each other and as far away as the size of the bed would allow. But as the night drew on, it was getting chilly. Han Geng sighed and tapped Heechul on the shoulder, who thankfully was still awake.
“예?” he said, eyes still half shut.
He laid flat on his back and pointed right next to him. “Want to sleep next to me?”
Heechul propped himself up on his elbows as if to think about it, and then slowly nodded. He awkwardly rested his head on Han Geng’s shoulder, laying an arm across his torso. Han Geng sighed contently and put an arm around him too, already feeling warmer. He knew Heechul must’ve felt weird about it by the way he was so tensed, but soon he fell asleep and his body relaxed, allowing Han Geng to sleep, too.
When morning came, Heechul wasn’t there. That was odd. Where would he even go, anyway? Confused and a bit startled, he got dressed and wandered to where they had breakfast, but he wasn’t there. He started to get nervous, but then it hit him.
“There he is, I was starting to get worried,” he said, walking into Zhou Mi’s quarters. The man in question was at a small table with the translator, sipping tea and chatting.
“어, 안녕,” Heechul said, bowing slightly. “미안.”
“Heechul said before that he woke up early, and didn’t want to disturb you,” Zhou Mi explained. “Luckily I was awake. He’s been here for quite some time now.”
“Is he okay?” Han Geng asked, still a little rattled.
“Yes, yes, don’t worry your pretty little head about it,” Zhou Mi said, waving it off.
Han Geng shrugged and sat down at the side of the table, just listening to the two talk as Zhou Mi poured him some tea. It was really interesting to see Heechul talk so much, and so confidently in his language. He was glad he had Zhou Mi to talk to, because he’d probably go crazy surrounded by Chinese he couldn’t comprehend.
Korean was an odd language, with its random twangs and strange sounds made with the tongue. But then again, that’s probably what Heechul thought about Chinese.
Heechul was very animated when he spoke, and he used his hands for emphasis. When Zhou Mi must’ve said something particularly humorous, the laugh Heechul gave went right to Han Geng’s very core. He could watch him talk all day, listen to his harsh and occasionally raspy voice, and watch the way the light behind his eyes glistened.
“Han Geng,” Zhou Mi said, snapping him out of his thoughts. “Heechul has expressed his interest in learning some important Chinese words, and he said in return he could teach you important words in Korean.”
“That would be useful,” he agreed. “Later tonight I can show him some words, I suppose.”
“He also said you’re very handsome.”
“Psh,” Han Geng scoffed. “No he did not… did he really?”
“You have no way of knowing he didn’t, we could’ve just been speaking of you and you would have no idea,” Zhou Mi tutted, amused. “But I digress. What are your plans for this fine day?”
“I’d like to go see Victoria and Amber, if they aren’t busy.”
“Last time I saw them they were in the courtyard,” Zhou Mi said. “Maybe you’ll be able to catch them.”
Pairing: Hankyung/Heechul
Genre: Multi Chap, historical!au
Word Count: 3,941
Chapter: {1/4?}
Rating: NC-17
Synopsis: Two nations sick of war try to end things once and for all -- but what else will get caught in the cross-hairs?
A/N: Wow, hello everyone! Yes, I am in fact still alive. Because of things happening in my life I was forced to neglect fic writing for a while. But we're back, baby. Woo!
Also, I would like to formally apologize in advanced to anyone who speak Chinese who is reading this fic =/////= because you're probably going to die from secondhand embarrassment of my awful Chinese in this. Please tell me what I can change!! I'm still a white belt in Chinese orz
Well, enjoy~
Heechul swallowed hard, every fiber of his being on high alert. This was a situation that he probably wouldn’t be able to get himself out of. Alive, anyway. And he’d been in many a predicament, but this, this topped them all.
There he was, behind enemy lines, with nothing but his spear and his trembling courage. The village sent him out believing he would never get this far, couldn’t possibly reach past the Han border, but here he was, most definitely caught.
He wasn’t quite sure where he was. After sneaking past the border he immediately tried to find a hiding place, for then he was completely exposed. It didn’t occur to him that he could’ve walked right into the gathering place of an unknown number of enemy soldiers.
Footsteps. Yes, this was it, he was done for, now. Whichever soldier entered would surely kill him right on the spot and hang his hyde as a trophy. He shuddered and almost dropped his spear as the figure of the soldier entered his vision.
Heechul had never seen one of the Han soldiers this closely, only stole glances as he snuck about. The soldier looked at him with a start, obviously not expecting a person to be in the room. His eyes narrowed as he realized that Heechul wasn’t one of his own.
“你是谁？” the soldier asked skeptically, in the language that made Heechul shudder, a language made to strike fear in the hearts of his people. Chinese.
Heechul tried to stand up as straight as he could and tried to control the shaking of his hands on his weapon, but it was proving extremely difficult. This man was just how the Hans were described to him; tall, as this man was distinctly taller than Heechul himself, with distinct facial features, although this man was oddly unique looking. But the main question on Heechul’s mind was if he was going to kill him quickly, or make him suffer.
The soldier examined him, looking at him almost curiously. It seemed as though he hadn’t seen a Goguryeo either, much like Heechul had never seen a Han. He held his breath as the soldier came closer, a little too close for his own comfort, staring intently at his face, his neck, his chest, as if sizing him up. This was by far the scariest situation Heechul had ever been in.
Heechul screwed his eyes shut in a bracing motion as the man went behind him. A touch to his shoulder made him flinch, preparing for pain but instead, feeling the shoulder of his top being pushed to the side. His skin crawled, opening his eyes in confusion, but then he remembered why. The tattoo on his shoulder blade.
“高句麗,” the soldier muttered, and Heechul knew this word, knew this was what the Hans called the people of his own village. Hearing it in Chinese made him shiver.
The hand pushed his sleeve back up with surprising gentleness, and Heechul could breathe again. The man was in front of him now, staring at him in a way that didn’t seem at all threatening.
“Are you going to kill me?” Heechul wondered aloud, just over a whisper. The man cocked his head to the side in confusion. “Kill,” Heechul said slowly, making a slicing motion over his neck, and then pointing to the man. “You kill me?”
The soldier made a noise of understanding, and shook his head quickly. “没有.”
Now Heechul was not only scared out of his wits, but confused as well. Any Han would jump at the opportunity to skin a Goguryeo, or at least, that’s what he was taught. Then what was this man to do with him? Send him home free with a slap on the wrists? Keep him as a slave? He really hoped it was the first one.
Instead, the man held out his hand. Heechul raised an eyebrow. The man put his hand out again in response. Heechul hesitantly presented him with his wrist, and he took it with a firm hold.
“跟我来。好吗？” Heechul didn’t know what else to do but nod.
He was led down a corridor, and as they went further down he could hear more voices. The realization then dawned on him that he was being shared. The man wanted to let his group all take part in killing their captive. “No, no,” Heechul said quickly, trying to back up, but the hold on his wrist was too tight.
“冷静下来,” the man said slowly and quietly. Heechul’s breathing only took quicker pace. This was it, this was how he would die. He’d be torn apart limb from limb, crying in agony only to have his killers laugh at him. This would be his fate. “哎!” he said, a little more forcefully, putting a finger to his own lips. Heechul swallowed his fear, but he knew the man could feel his arm shaking.
Finally he unlocked his knees and followed the man once more, and soon, they were out of the corridor and amongst more Hans than Heechul had ever seen in his life.
The minute Heechul stepped out, all movement ceased. Drinks were put down, hands quickly moved to weapons, ready to be pulled at the first sight of danger. This was obviously a camp full of soldiers.
“什么？” said a stoic looking man in the corner, his pointed spear already in position and ready. “高句麗?”
“高句麗,” his captor confirmed. He went on to say more things to his company, leaving Heechul to only wonder what was going on. He felt eyes on him all over the room, much like when he first met his captor. The Hans in front of him all had similar physical build, and some were even taller than his captor. Heechul felt dwarfed surrounded by them, even though he always thought his own height was nothing to scoff at. Despite the men’s bodies looking the same for the most part, he was surprised to see that their faces were all quite different, more than he had imagined. He also noticed that compared to the other men, his captor was quite unique looking.
Soon the speaking ceased, and there was a small tug at Heechul’s wrist to get his attention. His captor nodded once and Heechul followed him as they left the room, eyes still on him every second.
After a short walk, they reached another room, a small, tidy bedroom, by the look of it.
“你会睡在这里。” The man pointed to the bed, and then to Heechul, then to himself.
Oh no. He was not sharing a bed with a man that he thought was going to murder him just over twenty minutes ago. Heechul shook his head fervently and pointed to the floor.
“你确定吗？” he asked, and Heechul nodded and sat down on the hard floor.
“Yes, I’ll sleep on the floor,” Heechul said. “Sorry.”
The man nodded in understanding and took one pillow and a quilt from the bed, and placed it on the floor next to him. Heechul took it slowly, but thankfully.
As the man blew out the single candle on the small table next to the bed, he heard a simple, “晚安。”
--
Han Geng woke up and was almost surprised to remember he had let the stranger in his room, but as he recalled the events of the night before, he was able to relax.
The man looked cold and uncomfortable laying on the floor. He felt bad, but he did offer the bed. He was still asleep, his hair messy and pushed at different angles, his unconscious face looking far more calm then he remembered last time he looked at him. He looked so scared last night, he could only imagine how the stranger felt, finding himself in the midst of a whole other people who didn’t speak his language, not knowing if he would live or die. Hopefully by now the stranger realized that he would live, and would no longer have a need to be afraid.
How Han Geng was going to successfully hide the man and keep him safe, well, he didn’t know. But he just didn’t have the heart to kill him. He was trained almost all his life to kill a Goguryeo if he saw one, but actually seeing the man… he looked so scared and delicate, and Han Geng wouldn't have had a human heart if he were able to slit his throat.
Wu Chun said that the stranger could stay if he gave them information on the opposing side, but would this man really betray his whole race just so he could live? This was going to be really difficult. He’d have to keep an eye on him at all times, or else one of the other men would snatch him and kill him for their own satisfaction.
And this man… to be honest, he was a thing of beauty. He’d been told that the Goguryeos were smaller, looked softer, but had short tempers and an undeniable will to finish the job, to kill before they were killed themselves. This man had such soft features on his face that Han Geng had to fight the urge to touch him, to trace the dips and lines of his visage. But the easiness of his face didn’t go all the way through him, because he had long, bony limbs and he looked sharp, like he could cut diamonds. Prominent collar bones showed through the displacement of the neckline on his top, and lengthy slender fingers kept the quilt pulled around his torso.
He didn’t even know his name.
The man began to stir, so Han Geng quickly looked away and changed his clothes at lightening speed. After being clothed, he kneeled down on the floor next to the stranger.
“Hey,” he whispered, pushing his shoulder a bit. “Hey, it’s morning.”
His eyes began to flutter open. “뭐?” he asked, voice still laced with sleep.
“Morning,” Han Geng repeated, standing up. He pointed to the extra pair of clothes laying on the bed, and the stranger made a noise of acknowledgment. “I will be outside the door waiting,” he said, and he left him to get dressed.
After a few moment of sitting cross legged outside the door, the man emerged in fresh dress and looked somewhat awake. He stared at Han Geng expectantly.
“Food?” Han Geng asked, mimicking eating.
“아... 그래, 배고파,” he said meekly. It was interesting, he was acting even more quiet than the night before, which was odd to Han Geng, because shouldn’t he be happy to be alive? Shouldn’t that give him a small sense of comfort? Perhaps he didn’t care to deal with the language barrier, and Han Geng could understand that. He nodded and walked the stranger to the room where they stored the food.
As they were eating their small breakfast, Han Geng decided to ask the question that had been on the back of his tongue. He put his chopsticks down and motioned to himself. “Han Geng.” He pointed to the man. “You?”
“이름이 뭐에요?” he asked. “Han Geng?” He stumbled over the foreign syllables.
“Yes, Han Geng,” he said, smiling. He pointed back at the stranger. “You?”
“Kim Heechul,” he said clearly. “Heechul.”
The name was interesting. He hadn’t heard many of the Goguryeo names before, only the names of the main leaders of the group, but this name was different from the ones he had heard. He liked it.
The way Heechul said his name was funny, and it made him want to hear him speak Chinese.
Soon they had finished their meal, and Han Geng had an important person that Heechul needed to meet.
--
Now that Heechul knew his captor’s name, it was starting to become a bit too personal. At least for now he knew he was safe, so the fear of death was put to rest, but he was still a captive. He was still at the mercy of these people.
Han Geng was not what he had expected; he actually seemed quite kind, not the emotionless killing machine he was sure he would encounter. He realized he was very lucky to have had Han Geng find him than another Han.
But why was this man treating him so well? Possibly Heechul could be an asset to them, a double agent of sorts, and they needed to keep him willing to perform those tasks for them. Would he even be able to do what they asked of him? If he didn’t, he could only imagine the consequences.
Heechul didn’t know where he was being taken, but his questions were soon answered when they entered a room with paintings and scrolls lining the walls, and a man sitting cross legged on the table, eyes closed in concentration. He looked completely in peace, and Heechul almost felt bad that they would be disturbing him.
“你好,” Han Geng greeted, and the man greeted back without opening his eyes.
“你需要什么？” the man asked.
Heechul figured that Han Geng was telling the story of how they found him, because he kept pointing towards him, and he heard his name and village name a few times. After the anecdote, the man finally opened his eyes and looked at Heechul.
“You’re a lucky man, you know,” he said in Heechul’s native tongue, to his immense surprise. “It’s amazing that you’re alive.” He got down from his table and approached Heechul, still in awe. “I am Zhou Mi, and you must be the Goguryeo the whole village is abuzz about, Kim Heechul.”
“Yes,” Heechul said, relieved that he could speak his own language again with people being able to understand. “How do you know Korean?”
“You could say i’m a traveler of sorts,” said Zhou Mi. “I’ve seen where you’re from, and I know your people. I’ve been especially interested in your kind.”
“Remarkable,” Heechul could only mutter.
“But alas, i’m not here to exchange stories of travel with you,” he said. “I’m here to act as translator between you and Han Geng here.” He pointed to said man, who looked utterly engrossed in listening to the different language being spoken in front of him. “我将开始。” He looked at Han Geng expectantly.
Han Geng spoke, and Zhou Mi immediately got to work. “He says that he is not here to hurt you, he promises. He is not your captor, but more of a… protector,” he said. “The other men think you can be of use. It’s believed that you can give the Hans valuable information about your own people. You can stay here safely if you comply.”
“What sort of information?” Heechul asked, and Zhou Mi asked Han Geng in Chinese.
“He says battle strategy, mostly,” he said. “And what your people think of coming to an agreement.”
“A truce?”
“That’s what i’m led to believe.”
Han Geng spoke again, and Zhou Mi laughed a little. “He says he’ll try his best to make your experience here pleasant.”
“Tell him that… i’m very thankful,” Heechul said, and Zhou Mi did. “And may I ask… when am I allowed home?”
Zhou Mi asked, and Han Geng frowned. “He says he doesn’t know, and that he’s sorry.”
“Ah,” Heechul sighed.
“Well, that’s all I’ve to say for today,” Zhou Mi said. “You’re welcome to come back if you have any questions, which i’m sure you have many.” He climbed back up on his table and crossed his legs, back in the calm, meditative position. “Good day, and it was very nice meeting you.” He closed his eyes, and Han Geng and Heechul took that as their cue to leave.
Heechul kept walking back towards the room they spent the night in, but apparently Han Geng had another idea.
“这种方式,” he said, pointing to the other side of the corridor towards the door outside.
“Why?” Heechul said, but followed him anyway.
The sun was shining bright when they entered the courtyard of sorts. It was free of people, serene, and quiet. In the corner was a small pond, and he could see fish occasionally touching the surface.
Leaning against the side of the building was what looked to be an instrument, and Han Geng picked it up and showed him. Heechul took it from him carefully and examined it, and was amazed at the intricacy of its build. The instrument, made from wood, had well over ten strings stretched across it. It was quite heavy, too. The body of the instrument was carved with carefully placed designs and patterns, and whoever created it must have put years into it. He passed it back to Han Geng.
“古箏,” he said, sitting down on the ground and putting the instrument in his lap. He began to pluck at the strings, and soon it turned into a song that Heechul would compare to the changing of the seasons, winter to spring. It was so beautiful, and Heechul never wanted it to end as he laid down in the grass and listened. He had never heard anything like this back home, or even seen an instrument like the one being played.
Soon the song ended, and Heechul sat up and smiled at Han Geng in thanks. He only muttered something with a smile as he looked down bashfully.
They sat out in the yard for a while, and while this went on, Heechul thought. He thought about many things, if he should still be frightened, things he’d have to tell Zhou Mi about his village, and Han Geng. He found himself thinking about him often. The man interested him, and he wondered what made him want to save him in the first place. Han Geng seemed very calm, relatively care free, and he seemed to be able to smile about everything. He was so different, different than anyone Heechul had ever met, in more ways than one. He felt somewhat connected to him, even though they couldn’t understand each other at all. Heechul didn’t feel threatened, and if he had to choose a protector in this foreign land, he’d definitely choose Han Geng.
--
As night fell, Han Geng really hoped that Heechul wouldn’t want to sleep on the floor again. It was getting colder each night, and surely Heechul would freeze on the floor. Maybe he just didn’t want to share? Then Heechul could have the bed, and he would take the floor. He wanted to be hospitable.
Heechul entered the room having been changed into nightwear that Han Geng “borrowed” from another soldier, and that fact was glaringly obvious as the clothing didn’t quite fit him right. It would have to do for now, though, and it was much more comfortable.
“Bed?” Han Geng asked, pointing. Heechul nodded and hesitantly climbed on and beneath the covers. Hankyung was glad and sat down on the floor where the extra pillow and blanket was from the night before, and started to get himself comfortable until Heechul interrupted.
“아니, 아니,” he said, shaking his head. Han Geng looked at him in confusion. “침대.” He pointed to the bed.
“Really?” Han Geng said, and Heechul nodded. He moved over to the side of the bed to make room and prove his point. “Thank you, Heechul.”
Heechul seemed to almost blush as he buried his head in the pillow. Han Geng laughed and laid down.
Time went by like that, both laying in the bed facing away from each other and as far away as the size of the bed would allow. But as the night drew on, it was getting chilly. Han Geng sighed and tapped Heechul on the shoulder, who thankfully was still awake.
“예?” he said, eyes still half shut.
He laid flat on his back and pointed right next to him. “Want to sleep next to me?”
Heechul propped himself up on his elbows as if to think about it, and then slowly nodded. He awkwardly rested his head on Han Geng’s shoulder, laying an arm across his torso. Han Geng sighed contently and put an arm around him too, already feeling warmer. He knew Heechul must’ve felt weird about it by the way he was so tensed, but soon he fell asleep and his body relaxed, allowing Han Geng to sleep, too.
When morning came, Heechul wasn’t there. That was odd. Where would he even go, anyway? Confused and a bit startled, he got dressed and wandered to where they had breakfast, but he wasn’t there. He started to get nervous, but then it hit him.
“There he is, I was starting to get worried,” he said, walking into Zhou Mi’s quarters. The man in question was at a small table with the translator, sipping tea and chatting.
“어, 안녕,” Heechul said, bowing slightly. “미안.”
“Heechul said before that he woke up early, and didn’t want to disturb you,” Zhou Mi explained. “Luckily I was awake. He’s been here for quite some time now.”
“Is he okay?” Han Geng asked, still a little rattled.
“Yes, yes, don’t worry your pretty little head about it,” Zhou Mi said, waving it off.
Han Geng shrugged and sat down at the side of the table, just listening to the two talk as Zhou Mi poured him some tea. It was really interesting to see Heechul talk so much, and so confidently in his language. He was glad he had Zhou Mi to talk to, because he’d probably go crazy surrounded by Chinese he couldn’t comprehend.
Korean was an odd language, with its random twangs and strange sounds made with the tongue. But then again, that’s probably what Heechul thought about Chinese.
Heechul was very animated when he spoke, and he used his hands for emphasis. When Zhou Mi must’ve said something particularly humorous, the laugh Heechul gave went right to Han Geng’s very core. He could watch him talk all day, listen to his harsh and occasionally raspy voice, and watch the way the light behind his eyes glistened.
“Han Geng,” Zhou Mi said, snapping him out of his thoughts. “Heechul has expressed his interest in learning some important Chinese words, and he said in return he could teach you important words in Korean.”
“That would be useful,” he agreed. “Later tonight I can show him some words, I suppose.”
“He also said you’re very handsome.”
“Psh,” Han Geng scoffed. “No he did not… did he really?”
“You have no way of knowing he didn’t, we could’ve just been speaking of you and you would have no idea,” Zhou Mi tutted, amused. “But I digress. What are your plans for this fine day?”
“I’d like to go see Victoria and Amber, if they aren’t busy.”
“Last time I saw them they were in the courtyard,” Zhou Mi said. “Maybe you’ll be able to catch them.”