A Knight of Fire 5/?
Title: A Knight of Fire 5/?
Pairing: Yunho/Jaejoong, Yoochun/Junsu, Changmin/Junho
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: They aren't mine and I can't even claim the idea as mine because it is all devilaugh's fault.
Summary: Jaejoong is a scribe in King Ahn Chilhyun's court. He is sent to small seaside village to teach the people how to read, and instead finds a lover who has a secret that will end up endangering the entire world.
A/N: This fic is all devilaugh's fault. It was her idea on the post about the picture of Jaejoong, so this fic was partially inspired by this picture
Part 5:
Fanfic poster by back_to_five!!! Perfection! <3 <3
The missive, when Jaejoong finally read it (after waking up with Yunho’s lips and tongue on his skin), told Jaejoong he had to be back at the city before the Mid-Year Celebrations. Which meant he had to leave as soon as possible. Probably yesterday.
Instead, he lazed about in bed with Yunho, touching his skin, and followed his fire lover through the woods of their village, down to the beach, wherever Yunho led him, wherever Yunho wanted him to whimper and moan and splatter out his release. If Yunho meant to take him someplace and bind him and keep him for sex, Jaejoong would gladly allow it.
“I have to go,” Jaejoong said without looking at Yunho sitting beside him on the rock. Yunho had taken him to a natural pool hiding in a cave just off the beach. The opening let in the orange glow of sunset. The cool, fresh water felt amazing on Jaejoong’s skin, especially after Yunho had pulled him to the edge and bent him over a outcrop.
Yunho sighed but did not answer. Their fingers entwined and Yunho let bursts of flame tease Jaejoong’s skin with heat. Without letting go, Jaejoong slipped back into the water. He ducked his head, using his other hand to rub at his hair for a moment, and then he surfaced.
Yunho lay on his stomach, chin pillowed on his back of his hand. He smiled and tugged Jaejoong close enough to kiss.
“I know you have to go,” Yunho said, barely letting their lips part, “but I do not want you to go.”
“I will come and visit when my next assignment is done.”
“You better.”
“I will. I cannot write to you. It would be ...”
“Unfavorable.”
Jaejoong nodded. “For you, as well.”
Yunho sighed and let Jaejoong pull him back into the pool.
_-/^/^¯^\^\-_
Jaejoong had to leave as soon as possible. But he waited yet another week until the fisherman returned. The celebration was subdued, a welcome home and a farewell to the scholar that so many of the villagers liked. They piled him with flowers and gifts. The women and girls gave him scarves and shirts in bright red, and a few of the more daring ones asked to go with him, to be his wife. The men gave him knives and a sword, though Jaejoong never would use either. He was a scholar, not a warrior.
Jaejoong spent that night and most of the next day in bed with Yunho, shirking his responsibilities for just a few more hours with Jaejoong.
_-/^/^¯^\^\-_
The trip home (away from home?) seemed to take less time than the trip to the seaside village of Borandoon. Leaving was the hardest thing Jaejoong had ever had to do, and more than once, he turned his horse and cart back towards Knights Village. But he was a messenger of the king, and he had to obey his king’s orders. He would go return. He knew he would even if it was in three or five or ten years.
Jaejoong arrived two weeks late, and had only to explain that there had been a storm that destroyed some of the fishing vessels and he needed to help repair them. It was not good for a king’s servant to leave a king’s village in disarray.
The king agreed, and Jaejoong spent an entire afternoon in his chambers explaining the success of his teaching. He did not mention fire.
Sleeping in his own bed, in his own room, was not as comforting as Yunho’s arms. Jaejoong did not sleep well for weeks. The city was too loud with too many people and too many horses. Even at night, someone was making noise.
And the fashions had changed drastically in one year. Jaejoong had to go shopping in the marketplace, so he would not look like a country bumpkin.
Jaejoong liked the cotton pants and silk shirts, but his mind was full of images of Yunho’s body in them. Yunho’s body covered and slowly revealed as Jaejoong loosened all the buttons. But Yunho would not wear clothes such as these. They were not the clothes of a fisherman, a farmer, a blacksmith. A man who could control fire.
On day near the end of the heat of summer, Jaejoong sat in the library, reading another fantasy story, this one about a woman who controlled the wind. Entranced, he did not notice the King’s Scribe enter until a cool cup of fruit tea was placed in front of him.
Changmin was tall (taller than Yunho) with black hair that fell past his chin and curled at his neck. He was much younger than Jaejoong and had been in the king’s service for a few years. The boy wrote so neatly and so quickly that he became the King’s Scribe almost as soon as he arrived. But he was also very particular and a strict about rules and order. The few times Jaejoong managed to see him laugh were precious. The boy had a great smile and pretty mismatched eyes. Before Borandoon, before Yunho, Jaejoong had flirted with the King’s Scribe shamelessly.
“Not the normal scientific subject you study, hyung,” Changmin said and smiled.
“Thank you for the tea,” Jaejoong said and took a sip of the tea.
Changmin sat at his table. “You’ve been reading a lot of novels lately. Something you want to talk about before I mention this to the king?”
Jaejoong froze for only a moment, but that was long enough for the smartest scribe in the court.
“I knew it,” Changmin said. “What are you hiding?”
“Nothing,” Jaejoong attempted with a sigh.
Changmin chuckled. “Sure.”
Instead of keeping silent, which he knew was not smart, Jaejoong told him of his love affair with Yunho.
“Falling in love with a student is always a bad idea.”
Jaejoong nodded. “I know, but I can’t stop thinking about him.”
“And the novels?”
“He likes them. I told him I would read more novels if he read more books on science.”
Changmin stared at him for a long time. “I still feel like you’re hiding something from me, hyung.” He stood up and straightened his pale purple silk shirt and the green robe that he always wore about the castle. “Just remember that King Ahn has noticed your melancholy and he has set me the task of watching you. I will tell him of this love affair, and while it may appease him, it is not going to be enough to appease me.”
Jaejoong watched him walk away. When he was at the door, Jaejoong called his name.
Changmin turned around.
“Do you think it is possible that there are people like Arwen?” he asked, lifting the book to show he meant the character.
Changmin lifted a single eyebrow. “And what is Arwen like? I have not read that novel.”
“You should. It’s good. It’s about a woman who can control the wind and air.”
Once again, Changmin stared at him for a long time. “It’s just a story, hyung.”
“If it was not?”
“You should keep quiet before someone else hears and they throw you into the crazy house. Or worse.”
Changmin turned around and left the library, but it was all the confirmation he needed. He knew something, Jaejoong was sure of it.
_-/^/^¯^\^\-_
They did not speak of the novels or the elements again. Changmin assigned Jaejoong as a reading and writing teacher to a class of children whose parents had been killed in the last war. “To get him out of his depressing funk.”
He had chosen well because Jaejoong adored children and he loved to teach. He was also very glad that his next assignment was not away from the castle, or its resources and history books.
Changmin provided the reading materials for his lessons, mainly children’s stories about the elements, and the characters who used each one for good.
Jaejoong grew anxious. He had to talk to Changmin about what he knew. But he also knew that Changmin knew much more about the inner workings of this castle and he would have to trust him to talk about it when they were safe.
Or he was gathering more evidence against Jaejoong to take to the king to accuse him of treason.
Another sign, or coincidence, were the fresh flowers and plants that soon filled his room. He had not asked for them, or seen anyone bring them in, but they stayed, and they bloomed. They never wilted. A single cut daisy on his desk stayed as fresh as it always had been for almost a week before it disappeared.
If he hadn’t seen Yunho conjure fire from his fingertips, he never would have thought it possible. There really was only one logical explanation. Jaejoong needed it verified.
He waited in his rooms one morning for Changmin to bring him tea as he usually did. But he sat on the armchair. A single red rose had been waiting for him when he woke up. Jaejoong had torn the thorns off and he spun the stem between his thumb and forefinger. The young scribe entered, right on time, and he smiled.
“Good morning, hyung.”
“Good morning, Changmin.”
Changmin sat the tea down on the table, and Jaejoong pondered him, rose petals against his lips. He needed to ask but without actually asking. There were ears all over the castle. “What is your favorite flower, dongsaeng?”
Changmin’s smile widened. “Why pick one when there are so many that are pretty? Your tea is growing cold, hyung. It’s mint that I grew myself.”
Jaejoong smiled and knew that Changmin was willing to play this game of words. He moved to the table and batted Changmin’s cheek with the rose. Changmin turned his head, smiling as he smelled it. He took it from Jaejoong’s fingers, and in that moment, the red of its petals brightened.
“All flowers are pretty,” Jaejoong agreed and took a sip of his tea. “And this tea is delicious.”
“Thanks. There are only four ingredients.”
Jaejoong raised an eyebrow. “Four?”
Changmin nodded and took his own sip. “Yep, mint, lemongrass, green tea, and chamomile.”
Jaejoong did not see any hidden messages behind those ingredients, but figured he didn’t need to. “The lemongrass is very subtle.”
“Do you like the lemongrass, hyung? I can make it stronger tomorrow.”
“Sure, that would be good. Or maybe it’s the chamomile I like.”
“Well, I need to make sure we’re talking about the same herb,” Changmin said, “or the results could be disastrous.”
Jaejoong chuckled and took another sip of the tea. “Definitely the lemongrass.”
“Good.” Changmin hid a smile behind his cup and raised a single eyebrow, going from playful to shrewd in just a moment.
Jaejoong shook his head and looked to the side, like he was looking out the window. “I wonder how long it will be until the first snow flies. I spent the last year at the seaside. It grew cold in the winter, but it never snowed. I miss it.”
“You say that now, but you’ll be complaining about how cold it is when it actually happens.”
Jaejoong smiled. “That’s what fires are for.”
Changmin’s eyes sparked and he hummed in agreement. “You’ll be late for your class, hyung.”
Jaejoong nodded. “Right. I better get going. I need to stop by the kitchen for some fresh water.”
Changmin choked on his tea. “Water? But you just had something to drink.”
“Water is life, Changmin. I lose my voice sometimes in class and I need it.”
“Air is life, hyung. Water is just ...”
“They both are, water is just tangible.”
Changmin frowned.
“See you later, dongsaeng,” Jaejoong said. He picked up the rose and lashed at his cheek one more time, laughing at Changmin’s disgruntled face.
As Jaejoong left his room and noticed a maid in his bedroom, he was glad they hadn’t talked in specifics. But it was enough for him to know his suspicions had been correct.
Changmin was a Knight of Earth. And the only one missing now was the Knight of Air. But to what end? Why? Why was Changmin here?
It was always the question of why.
_-/^/^¯^\^\-_
Jaejoong sat on a garden wall, head tilted back, the weak sun on his face. He thought of Yunho, perhaps a bit too much, as his soft cotton slacks showed the obvious and constant signs of his problem. Luckily, he wore a heavy cloak to battle the cold and hide the fact that even a thought of heat or fire or Yunho had him hard. He missed Yunho so much, and wished to write just one letter to him. But he did not dare. He had no idea who was reading his letters, and as a King’s Scribe, he was not to be involved with anyone. His life and his heart lay with his kingdom. Always.
But it was Yunho’s face and smile and body that lay with Jaejoong at night, and at moments like this when he was alone.
Jaejoong stayed in the garden for longer than necessary. A writing pad and quill lay nearby, almost forgotten. He’d spent so much time writing science and the words of education that he was almost tempted to begin writing one of the novels he’d spent the last six months reading.
But that was not the wish of the king. He had written all he learned of fishing while staying in Borandoon, and he had written in detail the year he had spent teaching, hoping his notes would help other scribes in similar villages.
He had a bit of break, and he liked to come to the gardens during the winter if only because they were usually deserted. Usually.
Changmin sat at a bench across from him. The garden, even in the winter, was his favorite place.
They had not spoken of elements again. It was too risky. Even here where Jaejoong felt relatively alone.
Changmin stood up and gathered his bright green cloak around him. He smiled at Jaejoong and picked his way through the snow and ice. He sat next to Jaejoong and shivered. “Could use some fire right now, huh, hyung?”
“You have no idea, dongsaeng. Warmth, heat--”
“Yeah, yeah. I hate winter.”
Jaejoong chuckled. He opened his own cloak and wrapped it around Changmin. There was a small crinkle of parchment as Changmin curled into his arms, a hand down the back of his pants. Just for a moment.
Daring, but hidden.
They huddled together in the cold for a few more minutes, speaking of spring, and flowers and sunlight. There was nothing hidden in their conversation. They sat until a servant called them in for lunch, and Jaejoong stood up first, noting the odd feeling in his pants.
Changmin took his hand and used it to stand, and then hugged him. “When I tell you to leave the city,” he whispered, voice barely audible, “do not ask questions.”
He released Jaejoong abruptly and then smirked over his shoulder. “Are you going to stand in the cold for the rest of the day, hyung?”
Jaejoong laughed and followed after him. After only two steps, Changmin ran, and Jaejoong gave chase, laughing all the way to the scribes’ quarters.
That night by the light of a single candle, Jaejoong read the note.
My research is sound. The tyrant is not dead but plotting for the reunion of the stars. Success will be disastrous. Be safe in the eastern mountains, where the air blows strong along the peaks. Burn this, you idiot.
“Fucking riddles,” Jaejoong muttered as he quickly read it again. But he did not know what it meant. He memorized it. What research was Changmin doing? What tyrant? At least he understood the reunion of the stars part and that the Knight of Air lived in the mountains to the east, but that was a too much area to cover.
The tyrant is not dead.
But he was dead. King Ahn had displayed his head on a spike in the courtyard for months to show off his victory.
The whispered warning into Jaejoong’s ear that afternoon made more sense than anything else. But leave the city? Without the king’s orders? That was treason. And Jaejoong had no plans on committing treason.
Or at least. Nothing that could be so blatantly obvious as treason.
After reading the note one more time, Jaejoong held it over the candle flame and let the fire erase what may or may not have been an act of treason. He let the flames lick at his fingers for just a moment of pain.
Part 6: Bloom
Part 4: Burn
Part 3: Flicker
Part 2: Flare
Part 1: Spark
.
Pairing: Yunho/Jaejoong, Yoochun/Junsu, Changmin/Junho
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: They aren't mine and I can't even claim the idea as mine because it is all devilaugh's fault.
Summary: Jaejoong is a scribe in King Ahn Chilhyun's court. He is sent to small seaside village to teach the people how to read, and instead finds a lover who has a secret that will end up endangering the entire world.
A/N: This fic is all devilaugh's fault. It was her idea on the post about the picture of Jaejoong, so this fic was partially inspired by this picture
Part 5:
Fanfic poster by back_to_five!!! Perfection! <3 <3
The missive, when Jaejoong finally read it (after waking up with Yunho’s lips and tongue on his skin), told Jaejoong he had to be back at the city before the Mid-Year Celebrations. Which meant he had to leave as soon as possible. Probably yesterday.
Instead, he lazed about in bed with Yunho, touching his skin, and followed his fire lover through the woods of their village, down to the beach, wherever Yunho led him, wherever Yunho wanted him to whimper and moan and splatter out his release. If Yunho meant to take him someplace and bind him and keep him for sex, Jaejoong would gladly allow it.
“I have to go,” Jaejoong said without looking at Yunho sitting beside him on the rock. Yunho had taken him to a natural pool hiding in a cave just off the beach. The opening let in the orange glow of sunset. The cool, fresh water felt amazing on Jaejoong’s skin, especially after Yunho had pulled him to the edge and bent him over a outcrop.
Yunho sighed but did not answer. Their fingers entwined and Yunho let bursts of flame tease Jaejoong’s skin with heat. Without letting go, Jaejoong slipped back into the water. He ducked his head, using his other hand to rub at his hair for a moment, and then he surfaced.
Yunho lay on his stomach, chin pillowed on his back of his hand. He smiled and tugged Jaejoong close enough to kiss.
“I know you have to go,” Yunho said, barely letting their lips part, “but I do not want you to go.”
“I will come and visit when my next assignment is done.”
“You better.”
“I will. I cannot write to you. It would be ...”
“Unfavorable.”
Jaejoong nodded. “For you, as well.”
Yunho sighed and let Jaejoong pull him back into the pool.
_-/^/^¯^\^\-_
Jaejoong had to leave as soon as possible. But he waited yet another week until the fisherman returned. The celebration was subdued, a welcome home and a farewell to the scholar that so many of the villagers liked. They piled him with flowers and gifts. The women and girls gave him scarves and shirts in bright red, and a few of the more daring ones asked to go with him, to be his wife. The men gave him knives and a sword, though Jaejoong never would use either. He was a scholar, not a warrior.
Jaejoong spent that night and most of the next day in bed with Yunho, shirking his responsibilities for just a few more hours with Jaejoong.
_-/^/^¯^\^\-_
The trip home (away from home?) seemed to take less time than the trip to the seaside village of Borandoon. Leaving was the hardest thing Jaejoong had ever had to do, and more than once, he turned his horse and cart back towards Knights Village. But he was a messenger of the king, and he had to obey his king’s orders. He would go return. He knew he would even if it was in three or five or ten years.
Jaejoong arrived two weeks late, and had only to explain that there had been a storm that destroyed some of the fishing vessels and he needed to help repair them. It was not good for a king’s servant to leave a king’s village in disarray.
The king agreed, and Jaejoong spent an entire afternoon in his chambers explaining the success of his teaching. He did not mention fire.
Sleeping in his own bed, in his own room, was not as comforting as Yunho’s arms. Jaejoong did not sleep well for weeks. The city was too loud with too many people and too many horses. Even at night, someone was making noise.
And the fashions had changed drastically in one year. Jaejoong had to go shopping in the marketplace, so he would not look like a country bumpkin.
Jaejoong liked the cotton pants and silk shirts, but his mind was full of images of Yunho’s body in them. Yunho’s body covered and slowly revealed as Jaejoong loosened all the buttons. But Yunho would not wear clothes such as these. They were not the clothes of a fisherman, a farmer, a blacksmith. A man who could control fire.
On day near the end of the heat of summer, Jaejoong sat in the library, reading another fantasy story, this one about a woman who controlled the wind. Entranced, he did not notice the King’s Scribe enter until a cool cup of fruit tea was placed in front of him.
Changmin was tall (taller than Yunho) with black hair that fell past his chin and curled at his neck. He was much younger than Jaejoong and had been in the king’s service for a few years. The boy wrote so neatly and so quickly that he became the King’s Scribe almost as soon as he arrived. But he was also very particular and a strict about rules and order. The few times Jaejoong managed to see him laugh were precious. The boy had a great smile and pretty mismatched eyes. Before Borandoon, before Yunho, Jaejoong had flirted with the King’s Scribe shamelessly.
“Not the normal scientific subject you study, hyung,” Changmin said and smiled.
“Thank you for the tea,” Jaejoong said and took a sip of the tea.
Changmin sat at his table. “You’ve been reading a lot of novels lately. Something you want to talk about before I mention this to the king?”
Jaejoong froze for only a moment, but that was long enough for the smartest scribe in the court.
“I knew it,” Changmin said. “What are you hiding?”
“Nothing,” Jaejoong attempted with a sigh.
Changmin chuckled. “Sure.”
Instead of keeping silent, which he knew was not smart, Jaejoong told him of his love affair with Yunho.
“Falling in love with a student is always a bad idea.”
Jaejoong nodded. “I know, but I can’t stop thinking about him.”
“And the novels?”
“He likes them. I told him I would read more novels if he read more books on science.”
Changmin stared at him for a long time. “I still feel like you’re hiding something from me, hyung.” He stood up and straightened his pale purple silk shirt and the green robe that he always wore about the castle. “Just remember that King Ahn has noticed your melancholy and he has set me the task of watching you. I will tell him of this love affair, and while it may appease him, it is not going to be enough to appease me.”
Jaejoong watched him walk away. When he was at the door, Jaejoong called his name.
Changmin turned around.
“Do you think it is possible that there are people like Arwen?” he asked, lifting the book to show he meant the character.
Changmin lifted a single eyebrow. “And what is Arwen like? I have not read that novel.”
“You should. It’s good. It’s about a woman who can control the wind and air.”
Once again, Changmin stared at him for a long time. “It’s just a story, hyung.”
“If it was not?”
“You should keep quiet before someone else hears and they throw you into the crazy house. Or worse.”
Changmin turned around and left the library, but it was all the confirmation he needed. He knew something, Jaejoong was sure of it.
_-/^/^¯^\^\-_
They did not speak of the novels or the elements again. Changmin assigned Jaejoong as a reading and writing teacher to a class of children whose parents had been killed in the last war. “To get him out of his depressing funk.”
He had chosen well because Jaejoong adored children and he loved to teach. He was also very glad that his next assignment was not away from the castle, or its resources and history books.
Changmin provided the reading materials for his lessons, mainly children’s stories about the elements, and the characters who used each one for good.
Jaejoong grew anxious. He had to talk to Changmin about what he knew. But he also knew that Changmin knew much more about the inner workings of this castle and he would have to trust him to talk about it when they were safe.
Or he was gathering more evidence against Jaejoong to take to the king to accuse him of treason.
Another sign, or coincidence, were the fresh flowers and plants that soon filled his room. He had not asked for them, or seen anyone bring them in, but they stayed, and they bloomed. They never wilted. A single cut daisy on his desk stayed as fresh as it always had been for almost a week before it disappeared.
If he hadn’t seen Yunho conjure fire from his fingertips, he never would have thought it possible. There really was only one logical explanation. Jaejoong needed it verified.
He waited in his rooms one morning for Changmin to bring him tea as he usually did. But he sat on the armchair. A single red rose had been waiting for him when he woke up. Jaejoong had torn the thorns off and he spun the stem between his thumb and forefinger. The young scribe entered, right on time, and he smiled.
“Good morning, hyung.”
“Good morning, Changmin.”
Changmin sat the tea down on the table, and Jaejoong pondered him, rose petals against his lips. He needed to ask but without actually asking. There were ears all over the castle. “What is your favorite flower, dongsaeng?”
Changmin’s smile widened. “Why pick one when there are so many that are pretty? Your tea is growing cold, hyung. It’s mint that I grew myself.”
Jaejoong smiled and knew that Changmin was willing to play this game of words. He moved to the table and batted Changmin’s cheek with the rose. Changmin turned his head, smiling as he smelled it. He took it from Jaejoong’s fingers, and in that moment, the red of its petals brightened.
“All flowers are pretty,” Jaejoong agreed and took a sip of his tea. “And this tea is delicious.”
“Thanks. There are only four ingredients.”
Jaejoong raised an eyebrow. “Four?”
Changmin nodded and took his own sip. “Yep, mint, lemongrass, green tea, and chamomile.”
Jaejoong did not see any hidden messages behind those ingredients, but figured he didn’t need to. “The lemongrass is very subtle.”
“Do you like the lemongrass, hyung? I can make it stronger tomorrow.”
“Sure, that would be good. Or maybe it’s the chamomile I like.”
“Well, I need to make sure we’re talking about the same herb,” Changmin said, “or the results could be disastrous.”
Jaejoong chuckled and took another sip of the tea. “Definitely the lemongrass.”
“Good.” Changmin hid a smile behind his cup and raised a single eyebrow, going from playful to shrewd in just a moment.
Jaejoong shook his head and looked to the side, like he was looking out the window. “I wonder how long it will be until the first snow flies. I spent the last year at the seaside. It grew cold in the winter, but it never snowed. I miss it.”
“You say that now, but you’ll be complaining about how cold it is when it actually happens.”
Jaejoong smiled. “That’s what fires are for.”
Changmin’s eyes sparked and he hummed in agreement. “You’ll be late for your class, hyung.”
Jaejoong nodded. “Right. I better get going. I need to stop by the kitchen for some fresh water.”
Changmin choked on his tea. “Water? But you just had something to drink.”
“Water is life, Changmin. I lose my voice sometimes in class and I need it.”
“Air is life, hyung. Water is just ...”
“They both are, water is just tangible.”
Changmin frowned.
“See you later, dongsaeng,” Jaejoong said. He picked up the rose and lashed at his cheek one more time, laughing at Changmin’s disgruntled face.
As Jaejoong left his room and noticed a maid in his bedroom, he was glad they hadn’t talked in specifics. But it was enough for him to know his suspicions had been correct.
Changmin was a Knight of Earth. And the only one missing now was the Knight of Air. But to what end? Why? Why was Changmin here?
It was always the question of why.
_-/^/^¯^\^\-_
Jaejoong sat on a garden wall, head tilted back, the weak sun on his face. He thought of Yunho, perhaps a bit too much, as his soft cotton slacks showed the obvious and constant signs of his problem. Luckily, he wore a heavy cloak to battle the cold and hide the fact that even a thought of heat or fire or Yunho had him hard. He missed Yunho so much, and wished to write just one letter to him. But he did not dare. He had no idea who was reading his letters, and as a King’s Scribe, he was not to be involved with anyone. His life and his heart lay with his kingdom. Always.
But it was Yunho’s face and smile and body that lay with Jaejoong at night, and at moments like this when he was alone.
Jaejoong stayed in the garden for longer than necessary. A writing pad and quill lay nearby, almost forgotten. He’d spent so much time writing science and the words of education that he was almost tempted to begin writing one of the novels he’d spent the last six months reading.
But that was not the wish of the king. He had written all he learned of fishing while staying in Borandoon, and he had written in detail the year he had spent teaching, hoping his notes would help other scribes in similar villages.
He had a bit of break, and he liked to come to the gardens during the winter if only because they were usually deserted. Usually.
Changmin sat at a bench across from him. The garden, even in the winter, was his favorite place.
They had not spoken of elements again. It was too risky. Even here where Jaejoong felt relatively alone.
Changmin stood up and gathered his bright green cloak around him. He smiled at Jaejoong and picked his way through the snow and ice. He sat next to Jaejoong and shivered. “Could use some fire right now, huh, hyung?”
“You have no idea, dongsaeng. Warmth, heat--”
“Yeah, yeah. I hate winter.”
Jaejoong chuckled. He opened his own cloak and wrapped it around Changmin. There was a small crinkle of parchment as Changmin curled into his arms, a hand down the back of his pants. Just for a moment.
Daring, but hidden.
They huddled together in the cold for a few more minutes, speaking of spring, and flowers and sunlight. There was nothing hidden in their conversation. They sat until a servant called them in for lunch, and Jaejoong stood up first, noting the odd feeling in his pants.
Changmin took his hand and used it to stand, and then hugged him. “When I tell you to leave the city,” he whispered, voice barely audible, “do not ask questions.”
He released Jaejoong abruptly and then smirked over his shoulder. “Are you going to stand in the cold for the rest of the day, hyung?”
Jaejoong laughed and followed after him. After only two steps, Changmin ran, and Jaejoong gave chase, laughing all the way to the scribes’ quarters.
That night by the light of a single candle, Jaejoong read the note.
My research is sound. The tyrant is not dead but plotting for the reunion of the stars. Success will be disastrous. Be safe in the eastern mountains, where the air blows strong along the peaks. Burn this, you idiot.
“Fucking riddles,” Jaejoong muttered as he quickly read it again. But he did not know what it meant. He memorized it. What research was Changmin doing? What tyrant? At least he understood the reunion of the stars part and that the Knight of Air lived in the mountains to the east, but that was a too much area to cover.
The tyrant is not dead.
But he was dead. King Ahn had displayed his head on a spike in the courtyard for months to show off his victory.
The whispered warning into Jaejoong’s ear that afternoon made more sense than anything else. But leave the city? Without the king’s orders? That was treason. And Jaejoong had no plans on committing treason.
Or at least. Nothing that could be so blatantly obvious as treason.
After reading the note one more time, Jaejoong held it over the candle flame and let the fire erase what may or may not have been an act of treason. He let the flames lick at his fingers for just a moment of pain.
Part 6: Bloom
Part 4: Burn
Part 3: Flicker
Part 2: Flare
Part 1: Spark
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