[fic] SuperJunior - "Painted as Opposites" (5/?)
Title: Painted as Opposites [Chapter 5]
Author: phasera
Pairing: Siwon/Donghae
Summary: (AU) Loosely inspired by the k-drama Princess Hours.
Chapters: o1 | o2 | o3 | o4 | o5 | o6 | o7 | o8 | o9 | 10 | #
Note: This story is incomplete, and I will not be working on it anytime soon. I appreciate the readers who still enjoy this fic, and I'm very sorry I cannot promise you a conclusion.
------------------------Chapter 5------------------------
Donghae woke up in the middle of the night with an overwhelming need to pee. Flinging his arm out to switch on his bedside lamp, his elbow cracked against the corner of a nightstand. Yelping a curse, he flailed out of a tangle of blankets to vigorously massage his bruised joint.
As he did so, he looked around, blinking through a fog of grogginess and pain and wondering why the shadowy contours of his room looked so much bigger than usual. And why the hell was his nightstand was so much taller than before?
Groping more carefully, Donghae reached again to turn on the lamp, squinting against the sudden brightness. With that, memory returned, and understanding dawned-he wasn't in his old room anymore. He was now officially living at the Palace, in the company of the royal family.
He might have thought he was still dreaming-except he still really needed to pee. Tossing aside the sheets with their amazing luxury thread counts, Donghae crawled out of the bed. He left the room, still half-asleep and shuffling his way through the courtyard and the night-darkened hallways towards the washroom.
Rinsing his hands afterward, he wondered how early in the morning it was, but the bathroom had no clocks on the walls. He knew he hadn't gotten to sleep until really late, mostly because he'd been on the phone with his roommates for over an hour. First, he'd had to convince them that he wasn't running a fever, hadn't gone crazy, and hadn't been hit over the head with any heavy objects. Then he'd spent the rest of the conversation trying to stop Sungmin from laughing hysterically and Hyukjae from crying in the background.
Eventually, the battery on the cell phone had beeped a few times and died, for which he'd been vaguely grateful at the time. Donghae still wasn't sure if his friends truly believed a word he'd told them-but his roommates were a problem for another day. Right now, he already had enough on his plate.
Walking back into the shared courtyard, Donghae noticed something he hadn't seen on his way out. There was a light still on in the Prince's rooms--was it possible he was still awake?
Donghae's steps slowed, then finally stopped, leaving him stranded five feet from the Prince's door. His heartbeat pounded in his ears. He hesitated for a few minutes while arguing with himself, shyness and embarrassment at war with his newfound and irresistible sense of curiosity towards the young Prince.
A shadow suddenly moved within the room, a tall silhouette thrown up against the curtains, a blend of sharp lines and blurred edges. The sight made Donghae draw in a quick breath.
Not for the first time in his life, Donghae wondered what the hell he thought he was doing. Expelling his held breath, Donghae stepped up to the other boy's door and knocked on it in one swift movement.
The silhouette paused and left the frame of the window. Soon after, Prince Siwon opened his door, surprise obvious in his expression before it cooled, returning his face to its normal impassive mask. He was dressed as casually as Donghae had ever seen him, wrapped in a burgundy robe with metal-framed glasses perched on the edge of his nose.
"Yes?" the Prince asked after a moment, the light from within the rooms casting his shadow long into the courtyard.
It was then that Donghae realized he hadn't actually planned anything to say. "I saw your light was on-sorry to bother you," he temporized, fumbling for words. "I just wanted to see if... if everything was okay?" He stared at the Prince, shifting his weight awkwardly and feeling the hems of the too-long pajamas trapped under the soles of his feet.
Prince Siwon pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, somehow managing to make that small gesture look like the height of composed sophistication. "There's no need to concern yourself," he said, though the faint lines around his mouth hinted at weariness. "I often keep late hours due to my schedule."
"Oh," was all Donghae said in reply, while he rubbed the back of his neck and felt as ungainly as a fledgling bird. That wasn't really what I meant, he thought, breaking eye contact.
In truth, Donghae wanted to ask if the Prince was okay with him, with the betrothal contract, with everything that was happening. He wanted to ask if the Prince was sleepless with frustration, wishing himself anywhere else in the world but here-(Paris, maybe? a traitorous part of Donghae's brain suggested, but he shoved it quickly away.)
The questions hovered on the tip of his tongue. The air in his lungs felt heated, expanding his chest until his heart pressed uncomfortably against his ribs. Donghae bit his lip and finally said nothing at all.
As he stared down at his feet, he flashed back to earlier in the day, to the meeting with elder King Choi. He remembered the shine of wisdom and faith in the old man's eyes as he'd leaned closer and whispered, Lee Donghae, you can save him.
Donghae still had no idea what the old King had meant by that. The strange pronouncement had been baffling, to say the least-sounding highly unlikely, if not impossible. But Donghae had to admit that in some small, secret part of himself, he'd felt thrilled, like a child hearing a fairy tale. He'd been taken with the idea of it, his mind immediately lost in whirling daydreams of daring heroism and adventure.
You can save him.
If he were being truly honest with himself-those words, more than any promise or sense of loyalty to his Grandfather-those words had been the reason Donghae had made the decision to stay.
Looking up at last and staring into the Prince's closed face-searching it without success for some crack, some sign of weakness or distress-Donghae was forced in that moment to acknowledge that he'd been a complete and utter idiot.
"Is there anything else?" the Prince asked as Donghae did nothing but continue to stare; too polite to send him away, but obviously impatient for him to leave. "You should get your rest. This week is bound to be taxing for both of us."
"Right, yeah," Donghae mumbled, broken out of his odd trance by the Prince's voice. He stepped backward, ready to make his escape from this huge mistake of a conversation-but before he turned away, he hesitated. "I just…" he began, and stopped. Steeling his nerve, he tried again. "I just wanted to say…if you ever want to talk, or whatever." Donghae pointed over his shoulder, towards the rooms that were now his. "I'm right over there. I mean, if you need anything."
Prince Siwon lifted one elegant eyebrow, his gaze flicking to follow Donghae's finger across the darkened courtyard. The expression in the other boy's eyes had changed, but Donghae didn't know him well enough yet to interpret it. And maybe he never would.
"Indeed," the Prince said, softly. "There you are."
Donghae's heart tripped over itself, beating too quickly, and he had no idea if he felt pleased or miserable anymore. Even his own emotions had become a mystery to him.
"Well then," the Prince said, the yellow band of light from the door beginning to narrow as he closed it. "Goodnight."
The door shut, clicking into place with a soft sound that nevertheless echoed in Donghae's ears. He was plunged back into darkness, his eyes blinking away the glowing after-images of the Prince's form.
"Goodnight," he whispered, and the word seemed immediately to be swallowed up in the cool night air.
***
The next few days passed by for Donghae in a strange blur of moments of boredom juxtaposed with attacks of overwhelming anxiety. True to the Prince's command, Yesung and Kyuhyun had immediately started in with Donghae the next morning on what they called "grooming him for his future." Apparently, this involved keeping him confined to very limited areas of the Palace while maintaining a stricter schedule than most preschool teachers. (Except much worse-because whenever Donghae suggested nap-times, Yesung and Kyuhyun always turned him down.)
Every morning after breakfast, Donghae sat for hours and did his honest best not to pass out while the two aides lectured endlessly about Rules, Deportment, and Etiquette. This, of course, was the boring part.
Lunchtime didn't count as a break at all (even though the food prepared by the gourmet chefs was really tasty), because Kyuhyun and Yesung only took the opportunity to continue their lessons by teaching him table manners-which, unbeknownst to Donghae, apparently consisted of more than the basic two rules of "elbows off the table" and "no talking with your mouth full." (When he'd suggested as much, the older aide had merely looked grim for the rest of the meal, while the younger aide had laughed till he had tears in his eyes.)
In the afternoons, they taught him the rituals for the Oath of Brotherhood. It would be a two-hour ceremony, one in which Donghae would naturally be playing a main role. And, as his handlers constantly reminded him, he only had fours days to get every movement, every word of the oath memorized.
This was the anxiety-causing part.
As for the Prince-despite living right next door, Donghae hardly ever saw him. While Donghae learned the six proper ways to greet a foreign diplomat, Prince Siwon still attended classes and his various other schedules. Yesung informed Donghae that the Prince was learning the ritual on his own, and saw no need for them to practice together. Donghae's heart had sunk a bit at that, but he'd immediately told himself to stop being ridiculous, changing the subject by asking Kyuhyun a question about bowing.
Donghae told himself he wasn't worrying about the Prince at all-but in truth, he was, constantly. Besides everything else he was learning, this fretfulness was a new and weird experience for him. He'd never been the type of person to dwell on things, but thoughts of the Prince were never far from his mind. (To be fair, there wasn't much else going on to occupy it. Etiquette wasn't exactly the most engrossing topic known to man.)
The highlight of the week for him occurred on Friday afternoon, when Kyuhyun at last brought back the requested things from Donghae's old apartment. Donghae sat on his bed and happily pawed through the cardboard boxes, clutching his best set of oil paints and brushes to his chest as if they were lifelines.
He tossed a few more of his favorite shirts onto the bed, frowning as he noticed something missing. "Hey, where's my Playstation?" he called to Kyuhyun, who was patiently picking up the clothes and hanging them neatly in the closet.
The younger aide only shrugged. "One of your friends-Hyukjae, I think it was?-said the Playstation belonged to him, and that if I tried to take it away I was dead. And he said to tell you that you failed proficiency at most games, anyway."
Donghae frowned, eyebrows knitting in confusion. "He said what now?"
Kyuhyun sighed, rolling his eyes. "He said that you sucked at it."
Donghae drew his breath, preparing to launch an indignant tirade against Hyukjae's own utter lack of videogame talent, but the younger aide held up a hand to forestall him. "Your friend Sungmin did ask me to bring you something that wasn't on the list."
Donghae released the breath, curiosity overcoming his annoyance. "Really? What is it?"
In answer, Kyuhyun left the room briefly, soon returning with a familiar-looking instrument held up as if for Donghae's approval. Donghae smiled when he saw it, reaching out to take it in almost reverent hands.
"Sungmin's guitar?" he asked, astonished. "He hasn't let me play it since the time I accidentally splashed one drop of water on the fretboard."
The tall young aide shrugged with a slight smile. "Your roommate left you a note," he pointed out, but Donghae had already noticed the small envelope tucked carefully between the strings.
He opened it right away, happily scanning the short message-he hadn't had a chance to talk with his two best friends since that disastrous phone call on Monday night.
Hey Donghae-
We've been thinking, and we decided you really must be getting married like you said. At first the idea was too crazy, but then we remembered who we were talking about. Hyukjae is convinced you're getting married to Lee Hyori.
That strange kid you sent, Kyuhyun, he wouldn't tell us where you are, even when I threatened to break his legs. He acted weird when I mentioned the marriage, but then Hyuk started raving about Hyori and he just smiled.
You better come back soon. If I don't get my guitar back, I will hunt you down and kill you. If you break one of her strings, I'll kill you.
Bye~~~~
Sungmin
P.S. Hey hurry up and let us meet Hyori soon. And also some of her friends. - HJ
Donghae read it twice more, then snorted and tucked the note into his pocket. He fiddled with the tuning on the guitar for a bit, then gave Kyuhyun a speculative glance.
"I think Sungmin must like you," he tossed out casually, and was rewarded by the sudden flush of pink on the younger boy's cheeks.
"I-that is... what?" the younger aide stammered, clearly surprised.
Donghae shrugged, and then grinned, feeling mischievous and glad to know something the young aide didn't, for once. "Min only threatened to break your legs," he pointed out. "He didn't actually do it."
Kyuhyun scowled, recognizing Donghae's teasing. "Come on, it's time to get back to the lessons."
Sighing with reluctance, Donghae set aside the guitar by propping it carefully against the pillows. After having had a small taste of home, it was going to be harder than ever to concentrate on learning about this new world and his place in it.
***
That night Donghae couldn't get to sleep. No matter how much he told his brain to shut up and leave him alone, it just wouldn't stay quiet. He kept thinking about the ceremony that was finally going to happen in the morning. After a week of living like a ghost on the outskirts of his own life, he'd be able to show his face again. He'd be able to tell anyone and everyone that the Prince and he... that he and the Prince-that they would be…they'd be…
Donghae rolled over, burying his suddenly burning face into the coolness of his pillow. Yesung had said that the closest translation from the ancient document had named those who took the oath as "soul mates"--and on the spot Donghae had decided he'd rather die than say that aloud to anyone, ever.
Huffing in frustration, Donghae rolled back, staring wide-awake at the shadows on the ceiling. It was useless. I'll never fall asleep in this state... I have to do something to take my mind off things.
Tossing off the tangle of bed sheets, he crawled out of bed, hands reaching and finding the neck of Sungmin's guitar where it sat in a nearby chair. He wanted to play, purge this restlessness in his bones, but it felt way too stuffy and stifling within the bedroom to stay indoors.
He went to the doorway, looking across the courtyard. The Prince's rooms were dark, curtains drawn, and had been that way for hours. Donghae could only hope the other boy was a very sound sleeper.
Donghae perched on the smoothed edge of the fountain, the cool marble and faint mist from the spray feeling blissful against his overheated skin. Silver moonlight gently washed his surroundings. It glistened platinum on the leaves and trees branches and sparkled in the fountain water, giving plenty of light to see by.
He bent his head over the guitar in his lap, his hair falling into his eyes as his fingers acquainted himself with the strings, running through a few liquid chords. His mind finally blanked, going peaceful and empty. As he strummed lightly, Donghae stared pensively at his hands, hardly recognizing them. They had been manicured to perfection, every last speck of dirt and paint removed from under his nails till they almost glistened with cleanliness.
It seemed as if everything about him had been buffed and polished over the past few days-as if the Palace aides had done their best to scrub away the old Donghae, till he was someone sleek and new. It made him feel strange inside his own skin, and he didn't like it.
But thoughts like those weren't helping him to relax and fall asleep. Shaking his head to dislodge them, Donghae returned his focus to the guitar, finally playing in earnest. He plucked out the first melody that popped into his mind. It took him a minute of playing the song to remember it was one of Sungmin's-probably concocted recently for his Advanced Compositions seminar.
Despite the fact that the song was someone's homework assignment, Donghae rather liked it. The simple melody was slow but sweet. Donghae hummed quietly along, trying to remember the lyrics that accompanied it-something about a lover like the sea, someone with wild eyes and a hidden heart. Or maybe it had been secret eyes and a reckless heart.
Donghae had to smile-because for such a sarcastic, strong-minded person, Sungmin really did write good love songs.
"That's nice," said a quiet voice at Donghae's elbow, causing him to jump nearly out of his skin with shock, flailing and almost tipping backwards into the fountain.
The Prince caught Donghae's shoulder, pulling him back into place. "I didn't mean to startle you."
Donghae could only gape in shock for a few seconds, eyes wide and his heart still pounding erratically from the surprise of the Prince's sudden appearance sitting at his side. Donghae realized his knuckles were turning white where they clutched tightly around the neck of the guitar and he loosened his grip carefully, doing his best to return his breathing to normal at the same time.
"I'm really sorry," he told the Prince when he was capable of speech again, hugging the guitar to himself self-consciously. "Was I being noisy? Did I wake you up?"
The Prince shook his head. "I wasn't sleeping."
Donghae came to the realization that the other boy was still dressed in his school slacks and shirt-though he'd made some concessions to comfort by rolling the sleeves to his elbows and unbuttoning it at the neck. The Prince must never have gone to bed at all.
Donghae wondered if insomnia was catching, like an airborne disease. "Yeah, neither was I. Well, obviously if I was out here playing, then I wasn't sleeping. As far as I know, I don't sleepwalk and play musical instruments. Sungmin says sometimes I'll sleepwalk and get food from the fridge, but I'm ninety-nine percent certain he's just making that up." Donghae realized he was babbling again and snapped his mouth closed, shutting off the stream of chatter.
The Prince glanced at him, the slight smile on his face showing that he probably knew exactly what Donghae was thinking.
Silence fell between them like a blanket. Donghae stared down at the guitar, absently picking at a glittery bunny sticker on the back of it that was already curling a bit at the edges. Behind them, the fountain splashed, the sound of the water ringing like muffled bells in Donghae's ears.
Belatedly, Donghae realized that after nearly a week of hardly seeing each other, the Prince seemed to be doing exactly what Donghae had invited him to do four days ago-seeking him out for a talk.
Except... they weren't talking.
Puzzled, Donghae turned to examine the other boy, seeing the way the moonlight washed everything on him in shades of sooty gray and silver. The Prince was staring out into the garden, leaning forward with his arms propped on his thighs and hands loosely clasped between his knees. He looked comfortable-as if he might sit that way for hours, never speaking.
Donghae couldn't have that. He cleared his throat, doing his best to sound encouraging rather than nervous when he asked, "Is something on your mind?"
The Prince looked up, meeting Donghae's eyes. "I think we need to make a deal, you and I," he said, after a further minute of silence.
"What sort of a deal?"
"About this," the Prince said. "Us. Our relationship."
Speech was impossible with the way his heart had suddenly jumped into his throat-so Donghae merely nodded his head, encouraging the Prince to continue.
The Prince sat up, his backbone aligning like a ruler, his posture effortlessly perfect. Donghae watched him and had no clue what the Prince might say. Or what he wanted the Prince to say.
"My family is everything to me," the Prince explained, his voice steady and low. "If you truly wish to be a part of this family, then I need you to make me a promise-that from now on you'll always consider all your words and deeds carefully, remembering that everything you say or do will reflect on all of us as a whole."
Donghae stared at him. "You're asking me to... uphold the family honor?"
"Yes, I am," the Prince nodded, his eyes dark and grave. "Because after tomorrow, life is going to change drastically, for both of us. And after tomorrow there's no going back."
Donghae tilted his head, mulling over the Prince's words. "And for your end of the deal?"
The Prince lifted one eyebrow, an expression Donghae was already becoming familiar with. "I'll do my best to help you, in whatever way I can," the Prince offered, sounding sincere.
"But won't I be making this same oath during the ceremony tomorrow?" Donghae pointed out, confused.
"That's to a priest, Lee Donghae," the Prince said, very quietly. "This is to me."
Donghae was silent, chewing his lip as he thought. He thought he finally understood what the Prince was asking, and why it mattered so much.
"All right," he said, feeling solemn. "I will. I promise."
"Thank you," the Prince replied, equally solemn. After another moment he stood, putting his hands in his pockets and looking down at Donghae from the new height. "Try to get some sleep," he said, and Donghae recognized that the suggestion was more of a royal command. The Prince started to move, heading back towards his own rooms.
"Siwon," Donghae suddenly blurted, and the other boy stopped, turning back to him in surprise. Belatedly, Donghae realized it was the first time he'd called the Prince by name.
Donghae's heart was pounding. He stood to face the Prince, hands tight around the neck of the guitar. "I know you think I'm just... that I probably don't take anything in my life seriously. But I want you to know that I do. That this is important to me, I mean," he stammered, struggling to explain something in himself that he hadn't recognized until just that moment.
"I know I don't know much about duty, or manners, or-or honor." He looked the Prince square in the face, determination burning through his blood in a way he'd never felt before. "But I'm going to do my best, I want you to know that. You're not going to be disappointed in me."
Siwon was silent for a long moment, and Donghae could feel the weight of the other boy's eyes as they measured him, the silence stretching on. "Good," was all the reply the Prince made to Donghae's impassioned speech.
But then the Prince smiled, broad enough to reveal the dimples in his cheeks, and Donghae couldn't help but answer the smile with his own. His head felt fuzzy and light, while his heart continued to take great leaps as if it were trying to break free of his chest.
"Good," Donghae echoed softly, and knew the moment he laid down, he would sleep.
--------------------------------------------------------
A bright swath of sunlight hit Siwon across the face, the polite voice of the servant accompanying the opening of the curtains as it did every morning.
"Rise and shine, your Highness."
Siwon rolled onto his back, flinging his arm over his eyes to protect them from the light. He stayed in that position for a few minutes, thoughts and realizations slowly filtering into his awakening mind. Even when he was fully awake, he wanted nothing so much as to pull the covers up over his head, shutting out the world for a few hours more; like a kid again, he wanted to pretend something didn’t exist if he couldn’t see it.
But as soon as the wish had formed, he sat up and got out of bed. Wishes were frivolous and never to be indulged.
As his eyes took in the many layers of ceremonial robes that the servants were already bringing in for him to wear, bright colors and gold embroidery glinting like jewels in the sunshine, Siwon couldn't help but clutch a small, tiny wish to himself, hiding it in a corner of his heart.
Please, don't let me regret this, he prayed, closing his eyes for the space of one heartbeat.
Getting prepared for the ceremony almost took longer than the ritual itself. Once washed and dressed, the Prince left his chambers, heading up a long and stately procession of servants, courtiers, and priests, moving slowly from the Palace to the ancient temple located on the grounds. Silk banners in multifaceted colors streamed over the temple courtyard, flapping like the wings of some huge bird in the light breeze. After everyone had arrived and arranged themselves in their proper stations, the ceremonial musicians and dancers began their performance, feet stepping lightly on the aged cobblestones, bells flashing silver and gold as they moved.
Thirty minutes in and unable to sustain the expression of patient watchfulness any longer, the Prince finally glanced over to the boy seated on his right-hand side. Donghae had evidently given up on paying attention to the performers long ago. His neck craned as he looked all around the large courtyard, examining the lines of people, eyes going wide and mouth exclaiming silently whenever he glimpsed anything that surprised him.
The Prince thought the other boy hadn't noticed his regard, but then he spoke to the Prince in an excited whisper, his left arm lifting up to point into the crowd. "Look, my grandfather's here! I almost didn't recognize him in that fancy getup."
Siwon quickly grabbed the other boy's wrist, pulling his arm down. "Don't point," he scolded, also whispering.
"Oh, sorry," Donghae said, and obediently returned his attention to where it was supposed to be. But within two minutes, it was straying again.
The Prince thought the other boy looked fairly unrecognizable, too. He slouched in his deep blue robes, obviously uncomfortable with their heat and weight. His hair-if still too long-at least looked as if it had been combed. With his face clean and free of paint, Donghae actually looked quite presentable. He looked... nice, even.
Unnerved by the direction of his thoughts, the Prince turned his own gaze back to the performance, disciplining his mind to emptiness. At least until the other boy spoke a few minutes later, calling the Prince's attention once again.
"Are you nervous?" Donghae whispered, and when Siwon looked at him, the other boy's own expression had the tightness of anxiety.
"I have been in many rituals, some of them hours longer than this," the Prince replied-and it wasn't really an answer to the question, but hopefully the other boy wouldn't catch that.
"Oh," Donghae said, plucking at a bit of embroidery on his robe. "You just seem a bit..." his voice trailed off, but his brown eyes flicked downward, glancing between them.
Siwon also looked down, and saw that his right hand was still clasping Donghae's wrist, fingers tangled in the blue fabric of the other boy's sleeve. Siwon released him immediately, jerking his arm away, horrified as the burning heat of a blush flooded his cheeks for the first time in years.
"It's almost time to begin," he said stiffly, and primly tucked both of his hands into folds of his robes.
"Siwon," Donghae called to him, quietly, and the sound of his name in the other boy's voice made it strangely hard to breathe for a second, just as it had affected him last night.
"Hmm?"
"Happy birthday."
Startled, Siwon faced the other boy once more, and was confronted by a small, colorful object dangling out-of-focus in front his nose. "Put your arm down," he hissed, taking away the object and hiding it in his lap. They really ought to have been sitting there in silence, meditating on the ceremonial dancers and the mystic thrum of the music, preparing themselves in mind and body for taking the oath. All this chatter was unseemly, to say the least.
Donghae didn't seem to realize that-or if he did, he just didn't care. He leaned over Siwon's shoulder, explaining his gift in an apologetic voice. "Yesung and Kyu wouldn't let me go out to buy you anything, so I had to make do with stuff I had in my rooms-I'm sorry it's not that great." In spite of his own declamation, there was still an anxious note in Donghae's voice, waiting for some sign of the Prince's approval.
Siwon looked down to his lap, puzzled and turning the small object over in his hands till recognition finally struck him. It was a keychain, with a small, miniaturized version of the building-sized mural that still adorned the Atrium at Dan Ho Bok University. The saying at the school was that Dean Ho Dong prayed everyday for a rainstorm to wash it away.
"I heard a rumor that you liked it," Donghae whispered, and when the Prince glanced over his shoulder, the other boy was grinning.
The detail in the tiny painting was amazing-the little fish almost seemed as if they might swim right off the surface. But still-it was a keychain. Siwon had never carried a set of keys in his life. Every door had always been opened for him; every car had been chauffeured. It was probably the single most useless gift the Prince had ever been given.
"Thank you," Siwon told him, placing the keychain into an inner pocket of his robes. "Now, pay attention and get ready." Right away the Prince heard the other boy drawing a deep breath, as if to follow Siwon's instructions.
As the Prince had predicted, within a few minutes the dancers ended their portion of the ritual, the strains of the music drawing to an ethereal finish. This signaled that it was at last time for Siwon and Donghae's Oath of Brotherhood to begin. When the priests waiting upon the temple steps gestured at them, the two young men rose and walked forward side-by-side.
At other ceremonies, the Prince had typically always performed his duties mechanically, going through the motions with precision, but very little attention. On this day, however, he could think of nothing but his next line, his next step. The heat of the heavy silk robes grew feverish under the afternoon sun. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck, and his stomach churned with discomfort. For one of the few times in his life, the Prince was intensely aware that his deeds and his words were under the scrutiny of thousands of eyes.
But he wasn't alone. Donghae stepped forward to recite his share of the vows, and Siwon saw the way his brows knitted in concentration, his determination to do it well shining like sunlight on his face. His tongue stumbled slightly over a few of the unfamiliar phrases-but he remembered every word without prompting, performing the gestures in perfect synchronization with his speech. It was actually quite admirable for someone who had never participated in a complex ceremony such as this.
Watching the other boy work so hard at something that was so completely foreign to him, Siwon felt a bit of the tightness in his shoulders unwind. Perhaps-just maybe-there was hope for that kid after all.
As the Prince bowed his head to his clasped hands, the priest who stood above them raised his frail, ancient arms to proclaim Choi Siwon and Lee Donghae to be one. The crowd cheered in response, the loud noise completely overwhelmed by the sound of Siwon's own heart beating in his ears.
The Prince looked at Donghae, and Donghae looked back.
So, it's done, the Prince thought, tearing his gaze away to dutifully wave and smile at the cheering crowd, his mouth tight with the strain of it. Now what will we do?
***
Walking out to the farthest, most shadowed corner of the terrace, the Prince stared out at the darkness and the city lights. He loosened the tie at his neck; the crisp night air was purely relief as it brushed against his skin. He was alone, and it felt like the first time in a week that he'd been able to catch his breath.
The buzz of voices and music sounded very far away from where Siwon was standing, though the open doors to the hotel ballroom were no more than twenty feet behind him. He checked his wristwatch and decided he had five minutes to spare before he would have to go back inside.
It was his birthday party, after all.
But he had been surrounded by people all night-the usual crowds of bluebloods, affluent businesspeople, and celebrities-ostensibly so that they might wish him a happy twenty-first, but more often than not, an oh-so-subtle dance towards the subject of that morning's ceremony took place.
The press release had gone out immediately after its conclusion-early enough for the entire world to have been informed of the Crown Prince's new and shockingly ineligible state. His and Donghae's names had shot to the top of every search engine in the country in a matter of hours. And despite the fact that the betrothal contract had been clearly explained in the press release, rumors still ran rampant about them. Everything from blackmail to witchcraft was being mentioned.
If Siwon had had to hear one more female party guest tell him what a noble and self-sacrificing hero he was being, he might have 'accidentally' tipped his glass of champagne all over her ridiculously expensive designer clothes.
As satisfying as that would have been, the Prince had opted to take in some fresh air instead.
The paparazzi were normally present (and quite annoying) at these sorts of public events-but tonight, the media surrounding the hotel grounds had laid in thick enough for a war-time siege. Security had already arranged for Siwon, his family, and a few of the more V.I.P guests to be taken home via helicopter from the roof when the party reached its end, because trying to get a car up to the hotel entrance would have been impossible.
And this was only the beginning, Siwon knew.
He put his elbows up onto the balcony, feeling the wind in his hair as he stared down at the twinkling lights of news vans intermingling with police vehicles, wondering if any of them had a telephoto lens good enough to snatch a shot at nighttime and from twenty-stories down. Not that he was doing anything particularly scandalous by abandoning his guests for a few minutes. A bit gauche, perhaps, but not news-worthy. No, everything that had the public reeling and the media scrambling, they'd already done in broad daylight.
A light touch on his arm startled the Prince out of his musings. He turned, heart leaping to his throat as he saw the one person he hadn't expected to see that night.
"Hankyung," he murmured, hanging onto his reserved expression with all his strength. "What are you doing here?"
The older boy stared back at the Prince, those soulful eyes of his holding a thousand words that Siwon fervently didn't want to hear.
"I thought I'd been invited," Hankyung said, and that soft voice which Siwon had always found so soothing did nothing to calm him now. "Should I go?"
"No, it's fine," Siwon shook his head, though his hand held tighter to the balcony railing as he leaned against its support.
"I only came to give you this," the young dancer told him quietly, holding out a gift-wrapped package.
The Prince took it in both hands, unwrapping the present with fingers that felt numb. He stared down, throat closing when he saw the small, bronzed replica of the Eiffel tower nestled amongst the ribbons and torn tissue paper. It was beautiful, but all the Prince could think was-my second useless gift of the day.
Hankyung stepped closer, reaching out to clasp the Prince's arms and forcing him to meet the other boy's gaze. "Siwon," Hankyung began his confession, his voice as tense and unhappy as his eyes. "I thought I would be okay with this. I thought I could handle the idea of you belonging to someone else, if I could still just... just be with you." His fingers tightened around Siwon's forearms, but the Prince barely felt it. "I think I was a fool," Hankyung whispered, leaning in, and the Prince found his voice at last.
"Don't," he said, unable to squeeze more than that past the tightness in his chest.
"Siwon-"
The Prince shook his head, stopping him. It was too much, it was too late, this wasn't the time or place and he couldn't deal with this-not tonight, not on top of everything else. "Just go," he begged and commanded, hissing it through gritted teeth. Immediately Hankyung stepped back, expression darkening with hurt.
"You've been avoiding me all week," the other boy accused, a hint of anger creeping into his tone, causing the faint accent of his homeland to become more pronounced. "Now, you won't spare five minutes to talk?"
"I have to get back inside," Siwon said, lying and guilty and desperate and confused. "I'll call you when I can."
They stared at each other for a moment, and the two of them who had once been so harmoniously in accord both saw nothing that they could recognize. After a minute more, Hankyung wordlessly turned and left the terrace. Siwon's eyes followed him as far as possible, but his shape was soon lost in the shifting crowd.
Jaw clenching, Siwon turned his face back to the night, the same feelings of agony, despair, and anger that he'd felt during their last argument returning like ghosts to torture him once more. It was over, it had to be-six years and it was ending like this-and God, that had to be why it hurt so much.
The edges of the statue were biting painfully into the palm of his hand; in an impulsive moment of fury, Siwon raised his arm, preparing to fling the object as far from himself as possible.
"You shouldn't do that," tsked the quiet and amused voice of a stranger.
Siwon whirled around in surprise, seeing the shape of another person slowly emerge from the shadows near the ballroom entrance. The voice went on, dryly mocking him, "Is that any way to treat someone's precious gift? I expected better manners from a Prince."
Siwon might have suspected his original eavesdropper of hiding out there to spy on him-except he'd seen Donghae not ten minutes ago camped out at the buffet tables, chattering wildly to Lee Hyori while a harried-looking Yesung had stood guard nearby, trying to stop the excited boy from slipping canapés into his pockets.
"Who-" Siwon started to demand, but his voice died out in shock as the owner of the voice finally stepped clearly into the light.
It had been five years, but Siwon recognized him in an instant; especially when the younger boy smiled in a gleaming flash of white teeth, a trace of mockery still glinting from his eyes.
"Kibum?" he gasped, and was rewarded as the bright smile stretched into a grin.
"Happy birthday, cousin," Prince Kibum said, one eyebrow lifting sardonically as he delivered his greeting. "I'm back from the dead."
(To be continued. . .)
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© 2008
| Next chapter >> |
Author: phasera
Pairing: Siwon/Donghae
Summary: (AU) Loosely inspired by the k-drama Princess Hours.
Chapters: o1 | o2 | o3 | o4 | o5 | o6 | o7 | o8 | o9 | 10 | #
Note: This story is incomplete, and I will not be working on it anytime soon. I appreciate the readers who still enjoy this fic, and I'm very sorry I cannot promise you a conclusion.
------------------------Chapter 5------------------------
Donghae woke up in the middle of the night with an overwhelming need to pee. Flinging his arm out to switch on his bedside lamp, his elbow cracked against the corner of a nightstand. Yelping a curse, he flailed out of a tangle of blankets to vigorously massage his bruised joint.
As he did so, he looked around, blinking through a fog of grogginess and pain and wondering why the shadowy contours of his room looked so much bigger than usual. And why the hell was his nightstand was so much taller than before?
Groping more carefully, Donghae reached again to turn on the lamp, squinting against the sudden brightness. With that, memory returned, and understanding dawned-he wasn't in his old room anymore. He was now officially living at the Palace, in the company of the royal family.
He might have thought he was still dreaming-except he still really needed to pee. Tossing aside the sheets with their amazing luxury thread counts, Donghae crawled out of the bed. He left the room, still half-asleep and shuffling his way through the courtyard and the night-darkened hallways towards the washroom.
Rinsing his hands afterward, he wondered how early in the morning it was, but the bathroom had no clocks on the walls. He knew he hadn't gotten to sleep until really late, mostly because he'd been on the phone with his roommates for over an hour. First, he'd had to convince them that he wasn't running a fever, hadn't gone crazy, and hadn't been hit over the head with any heavy objects. Then he'd spent the rest of the conversation trying to stop Sungmin from laughing hysterically and Hyukjae from crying in the background.
Eventually, the battery on the cell phone had beeped a few times and died, for which he'd been vaguely grateful at the time. Donghae still wasn't sure if his friends truly believed a word he'd told them-but his roommates were a problem for another day. Right now, he already had enough on his plate.
Walking back into the shared courtyard, Donghae noticed something he hadn't seen on his way out. There was a light still on in the Prince's rooms--was it possible he was still awake?
Donghae's steps slowed, then finally stopped, leaving him stranded five feet from the Prince's door. His heartbeat pounded in his ears. He hesitated for a few minutes while arguing with himself, shyness and embarrassment at war with his newfound and irresistible sense of curiosity towards the young Prince.
A shadow suddenly moved within the room, a tall silhouette thrown up against the curtains, a blend of sharp lines and blurred edges. The sight made Donghae draw in a quick breath.
Not for the first time in his life, Donghae wondered what the hell he thought he was doing. Expelling his held breath, Donghae stepped up to the other boy's door and knocked on it in one swift movement.
The silhouette paused and left the frame of the window. Soon after, Prince Siwon opened his door, surprise obvious in his expression before it cooled, returning his face to its normal impassive mask. He was dressed as casually as Donghae had ever seen him, wrapped in a burgundy robe with metal-framed glasses perched on the edge of his nose.
"Yes?" the Prince asked after a moment, the light from within the rooms casting his shadow long into the courtyard.
It was then that Donghae realized he hadn't actually planned anything to say. "I saw your light was on-sorry to bother you," he temporized, fumbling for words. "I just wanted to see if... if everything was okay?" He stared at the Prince, shifting his weight awkwardly and feeling the hems of the too-long pajamas trapped under the soles of his feet.
Prince Siwon pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, somehow managing to make that small gesture look like the height of composed sophistication. "There's no need to concern yourself," he said, though the faint lines around his mouth hinted at weariness. "I often keep late hours due to my schedule."
"Oh," was all Donghae said in reply, while he rubbed the back of his neck and felt as ungainly as a fledgling bird. That wasn't really what I meant, he thought, breaking eye contact.
In truth, Donghae wanted to ask if the Prince was okay with him, with the betrothal contract, with everything that was happening. He wanted to ask if the Prince was sleepless with frustration, wishing himself anywhere else in the world but here-(Paris, maybe? a traitorous part of Donghae's brain suggested, but he shoved it quickly away.)
The questions hovered on the tip of his tongue. The air in his lungs felt heated, expanding his chest until his heart pressed uncomfortably against his ribs. Donghae bit his lip and finally said nothing at all.
As he stared down at his feet, he flashed back to earlier in the day, to the meeting with elder King Choi. He remembered the shine of wisdom and faith in the old man's eyes as he'd leaned closer and whispered, Lee Donghae, you can save him.
Donghae still had no idea what the old King had meant by that. The strange pronouncement had been baffling, to say the least-sounding highly unlikely, if not impossible. But Donghae had to admit that in some small, secret part of himself, he'd felt thrilled, like a child hearing a fairy tale. He'd been taken with the idea of it, his mind immediately lost in whirling daydreams of daring heroism and adventure.
You can save him.
If he were being truly honest with himself-those words, more than any promise or sense of loyalty to his Grandfather-those words had been the reason Donghae had made the decision to stay.
Looking up at last and staring into the Prince's closed face-searching it without success for some crack, some sign of weakness or distress-Donghae was forced in that moment to acknowledge that he'd been a complete and utter idiot.
"Is there anything else?" the Prince asked as Donghae did nothing but continue to stare; too polite to send him away, but obviously impatient for him to leave. "You should get your rest. This week is bound to be taxing for both of us."
"Right, yeah," Donghae mumbled, broken out of his odd trance by the Prince's voice. He stepped backward, ready to make his escape from this huge mistake of a conversation-but before he turned away, he hesitated. "I just…" he began, and stopped. Steeling his nerve, he tried again. "I just wanted to say…if you ever want to talk, or whatever." Donghae pointed over his shoulder, towards the rooms that were now his. "I'm right over there. I mean, if you need anything."
Prince Siwon lifted one elegant eyebrow, his gaze flicking to follow Donghae's finger across the darkened courtyard. The expression in the other boy's eyes had changed, but Donghae didn't know him well enough yet to interpret it. And maybe he never would.
"Indeed," the Prince said, softly. "There you are."
Donghae's heart tripped over itself, beating too quickly, and he had no idea if he felt pleased or miserable anymore. Even his own emotions had become a mystery to him.
"Well then," the Prince said, the yellow band of light from the door beginning to narrow as he closed it. "Goodnight."
The door shut, clicking into place with a soft sound that nevertheless echoed in Donghae's ears. He was plunged back into darkness, his eyes blinking away the glowing after-images of the Prince's form.
"Goodnight," he whispered, and the word seemed immediately to be swallowed up in the cool night air.
***
The next few days passed by for Donghae in a strange blur of moments of boredom juxtaposed with attacks of overwhelming anxiety. True to the Prince's command, Yesung and Kyuhyun had immediately started in with Donghae the next morning on what they called "grooming him for his future." Apparently, this involved keeping him confined to very limited areas of the Palace while maintaining a stricter schedule than most preschool teachers. (Except much worse-because whenever Donghae suggested nap-times, Yesung and Kyuhyun always turned him down.)
Every morning after breakfast, Donghae sat for hours and did his honest best not to pass out while the two aides lectured endlessly about Rules, Deportment, and Etiquette. This, of course, was the boring part.
Lunchtime didn't count as a break at all (even though the food prepared by the gourmet chefs was really tasty), because Kyuhyun and Yesung only took the opportunity to continue their lessons by teaching him table manners-which, unbeknownst to Donghae, apparently consisted of more than the basic two rules of "elbows off the table" and "no talking with your mouth full." (When he'd suggested as much, the older aide had merely looked grim for the rest of the meal, while the younger aide had laughed till he had tears in his eyes.)
In the afternoons, they taught him the rituals for the Oath of Brotherhood. It would be a two-hour ceremony, one in which Donghae would naturally be playing a main role. And, as his handlers constantly reminded him, he only had fours days to get every movement, every word of the oath memorized.
This was the anxiety-causing part.
As for the Prince-despite living right next door, Donghae hardly ever saw him. While Donghae learned the six proper ways to greet a foreign diplomat, Prince Siwon still attended classes and his various other schedules. Yesung informed Donghae that the Prince was learning the ritual on his own, and saw no need for them to practice together. Donghae's heart had sunk a bit at that, but he'd immediately told himself to stop being ridiculous, changing the subject by asking Kyuhyun a question about bowing.
Donghae told himself he wasn't worrying about the Prince at all-but in truth, he was, constantly. Besides everything else he was learning, this fretfulness was a new and weird experience for him. He'd never been the type of person to dwell on things, but thoughts of the Prince were never far from his mind. (To be fair, there wasn't much else going on to occupy it. Etiquette wasn't exactly the most engrossing topic known to man.)
The highlight of the week for him occurred on Friday afternoon, when Kyuhyun at last brought back the requested things from Donghae's old apartment. Donghae sat on his bed and happily pawed through the cardboard boxes, clutching his best set of oil paints and brushes to his chest as if they were lifelines.
He tossed a few more of his favorite shirts onto the bed, frowning as he noticed something missing. "Hey, where's my Playstation?" he called to Kyuhyun, who was patiently picking up the clothes and hanging them neatly in the closet.
The younger aide only shrugged. "One of your friends-Hyukjae, I think it was?-said the Playstation belonged to him, and that if I tried to take it away I was dead. And he said to tell you that you failed proficiency at most games, anyway."
Donghae frowned, eyebrows knitting in confusion. "He said what now?"
Kyuhyun sighed, rolling his eyes. "He said that you sucked at it."
Donghae drew his breath, preparing to launch an indignant tirade against Hyukjae's own utter lack of videogame talent, but the younger aide held up a hand to forestall him. "Your friend Sungmin did ask me to bring you something that wasn't on the list."
Donghae released the breath, curiosity overcoming his annoyance. "Really? What is it?"
In answer, Kyuhyun left the room briefly, soon returning with a familiar-looking instrument held up as if for Donghae's approval. Donghae smiled when he saw it, reaching out to take it in almost reverent hands.
"Sungmin's guitar?" he asked, astonished. "He hasn't let me play it since the time I accidentally splashed one drop of water on the fretboard."
The tall young aide shrugged with a slight smile. "Your roommate left you a note," he pointed out, but Donghae had already noticed the small envelope tucked carefully between the strings.
He opened it right away, happily scanning the short message-he hadn't had a chance to talk with his two best friends since that disastrous phone call on Monday night.
Hey Donghae-
We've been thinking, and we decided you really must be getting married like you said. At first the idea was too crazy, but then we remembered who we were talking about. Hyukjae is convinced you're getting married to Lee Hyori.
That strange kid you sent, Kyuhyun, he wouldn't tell us where you are, even when I threatened to break his legs. He acted weird when I mentioned the marriage, but then Hyuk started raving about Hyori and he just smiled.
You better come back soon. If I don't get my guitar back, I will hunt you down and kill you. If you break one of her strings, I'll kill you.
Bye~~~~
Sungmin
P.S. Hey hurry up and let us meet Hyori soon. And also some of her friends. - HJ
Donghae read it twice more, then snorted and tucked the note into his pocket. He fiddled with the tuning on the guitar for a bit, then gave Kyuhyun a speculative glance.
"I think Sungmin must like you," he tossed out casually, and was rewarded by the sudden flush of pink on the younger boy's cheeks.
"I-that is... what?" the younger aide stammered, clearly surprised.
Donghae shrugged, and then grinned, feeling mischievous and glad to know something the young aide didn't, for once. "Min only threatened to break your legs," he pointed out. "He didn't actually do it."
Kyuhyun scowled, recognizing Donghae's teasing. "Come on, it's time to get back to the lessons."
Sighing with reluctance, Donghae set aside the guitar by propping it carefully against the pillows. After having had a small taste of home, it was going to be harder than ever to concentrate on learning about this new world and his place in it.
***
That night Donghae couldn't get to sleep. No matter how much he told his brain to shut up and leave him alone, it just wouldn't stay quiet. He kept thinking about the ceremony that was finally going to happen in the morning. After a week of living like a ghost on the outskirts of his own life, he'd be able to show his face again. He'd be able to tell anyone and everyone that the Prince and he... that he and the Prince-that they would be…they'd be…
Donghae rolled over, burying his suddenly burning face into the coolness of his pillow. Yesung had said that the closest translation from the ancient document had named those who took the oath as "soul mates"--and on the spot Donghae had decided he'd rather die than say that aloud to anyone, ever.
Huffing in frustration, Donghae rolled back, staring wide-awake at the shadows on the ceiling. It was useless. I'll never fall asleep in this state... I have to do something to take my mind off things.
Tossing off the tangle of bed sheets, he crawled out of bed, hands reaching and finding the neck of Sungmin's guitar where it sat in a nearby chair. He wanted to play, purge this restlessness in his bones, but it felt way too stuffy and stifling within the bedroom to stay indoors.
He went to the doorway, looking across the courtyard. The Prince's rooms were dark, curtains drawn, and had been that way for hours. Donghae could only hope the other boy was a very sound sleeper.
Donghae perched on the smoothed edge of the fountain, the cool marble and faint mist from the spray feeling blissful against his overheated skin. Silver moonlight gently washed his surroundings. It glistened platinum on the leaves and trees branches and sparkled in the fountain water, giving plenty of light to see by.
He bent his head over the guitar in his lap, his hair falling into his eyes as his fingers acquainted himself with the strings, running through a few liquid chords. His mind finally blanked, going peaceful and empty. As he strummed lightly, Donghae stared pensively at his hands, hardly recognizing them. They had been manicured to perfection, every last speck of dirt and paint removed from under his nails till they almost glistened with cleanliness.
It seemed as if everything about him had been buffed and polished over the past few days-as if the Palace aides had done their best to scrub away the old Donghae, till he was someone sleek and new. It made him feel strange inside his own skin, and he didn't like it.
But thoughts like those weren't helping him to relax and fall asleep. Shaking his head to dislodge them, Donghae returned his focus to the guitar, finally playing in earnest. He plucked out the first melody that popped into his mind. It took him a minute of playing the song to remember it was one of Sungmin's-probably concocted recently for his Advanced Compositions seminar.
Despite the fact that the song was someone's homework assignment, Donghae rather liked it. The simple melody was slow but sweet. Donghae hummed quietly along, trying to remember the lyrics that accompanied it-something about a lover like the sea, someone with wild eyes and a hidden heart. Or maybe it had been secret eyes and a reckless heart.
Donghae had to smile-because for such a sarcastic, strong-minded person, Sungmin really did write good love songs.
"That's nice," said a quiet voice at Donghae's elbow, causing him to jump nearly out of his skin with shock, flailing and almost tipping backwards into the fountain.
The Prince caught Donghae's shoulder, pulling him back into place. "I didn't mean to startle you."
Donghae could only gape in shock for a few seconds, eyes wide and his heart still pounding erratically from the surprise of the Prince's sudden appearance sitting at his side. Donghae realized his knuckles were turning white where they clutched tightly around the neck of the guitar and he loosened his grip carefully, doing his best to return his breathing to normal at the same time.
"I'm really sorry," he told the Prince when he was capable of speech again, hugging the guitar to himself self-consciously. "Was I being noisy? Did I wake you up?"
The Prince shook his head. "I wasn't sleeping."
Donghae came to the realization that the other boy was still dressed in his school slacks and shirt-though he'd made some concessions to comfort by rolling the sleeves to his elbows and unbuttoning it at the neck. The Prince must never have gone to bed at all.
Donghae wondered if insomnia was catching, like an airborne disease. "Yeah, neither was I. Well, obviously if I was out here playing, then I wasn't sleeping. As far as I know, I don't sleepwalk and play musical instruments. Sungmin says sometimes I'll sleepwalk and get food from the fridge, but I'm ninety-nine percent certain he's just making that up." Donghae realized he was babbling again and snapped his mouth closed, shutting off the stream of chatter.
The Prince glanced at him, the slight smile on his face showing that he probably knew exactly what Donghae was thinking.
Silence fell between them like a blanket. Donghae stared down at the guitar, absently picking at a glittery bunny sticker on the back of it that was already curling a bit at the edges. Behind them, the fountain splashed, the sound of the water ringing like muffled bells in Donghae's ears.
Belatedly, Donghae realized that after nearly a week of hardly seeing each other, the Prince seemed to be doing exactly what Donghae had invited him to do four days ago-seeking him out for a talk.
Except... they weren't talking.
Puzzled, Donghae turned to examine the other boy, seeing the way the moonlight washed everything on him in shades of sooty gray and silver. The Prince was staring out into the garden, leaning forward with his arms propped on his thighs and hands loosely clasped between his knees. He looked comfortable-as if he might sit that way for hours, never speaking.
Donghae couldn't have that. He cleared his throat, doing his best to sound encouraging rather than nervous when he asked, "Is something on your mind?"
The Prince looked up, meeting Donghae's eyes. "I think we need to make a deal, you and I," he said, after a further minute of silence.
"What sort of a deal?"
"About this," the Prince said. "Us. Our relationship."
Speech was impossible with the way his heart had suddenly jumped into his throat-so Donghae merely nodded his head, encouraging the Prince to continue.
The Prince sat up, his backbone aligning like a ruler, his posture effortlessly perfect. Donghae watched him and had no clue what the Prince might say. Or what he wanted the Prince to say.
"My family is everything to me," the Prince explained, his voice steady and low. "If you truly wish to be a part of this family, then I need you to make me a promise-that from now on you'll always consider all your words and deeds carefully, remembering that everything you say or do will reflect on all of us as a whole."
Donghae stared at him. "You're asking me to... uphold the family honor?"
"Yes, I am," the Prince nodded, his eyes dark and grave. "Because after tomorrow, life is going to change drastically, for both of us. And after tomorrow there's no going back."
Donghae tilted his head, mulling over the Prince's words. "And for your end of the deal?"
The Prince lifted one eyebrow, an expression Donghae was already becoming familiar with. "I'll do my best to help you, in whatever way I can," the Prince offered, sounding sincere.
"But won't I be making this same oath during the ceremony tomorrow?" Donghae pointed out, confused.
"That's to a priest, Lee Donghae," the Prince said, very quietly. "This is to me."
Donghae was silent, chewing his lip as he thought. He thought he finally understood what the Prince was asking, and why it mattered so much.
"All right," he said, feeling solemn. "I will. I promise."
"Thank you," the Prince replied, equally solemn. After another moment he stood, putting his hands in his pockets and looking down at Donghae from the new height. "Try to get some sleep," he said, and Donghae recognized that the suggestion was more of a royal command. The Prince started to move, heading back towards his own rooms.
"Siwon," Donghae suddenly blurted, and the other boy stopped, turning back to him in surprise. Belatedly, Donghae realized it was the first time he'd called the Prince by name.
Donghae's heart was pounding. He stood to face the Prince, hands tight around the neck of the guitar. "I know you think I'm just... that I probably don't take anything in my life seriously. But I want you to know that I do. That this is important to me, I mean," he stammered, struggling to explain something in himself that he hadn't recognized until just that moment.
"I know I don't know much about duty, or manners, or-or honor." He looked the Prince square in the face, determination burning through his blood in a way he'd never felt before. "But I'm going to do my best, I want you to know that. You're not going to be disappointed in me."
Siwon was silent for a long moment, and Donghae could feel the weight of the other boy's eyes as they measured him, the silence stretching on. "Good," was all the reply the Prince made to Donghae's impassioned speech.
But then the Prince smiled, broad enough to reveal the dimples in his cheeks, and Donghae couldn't help but answer the smile with his own. His head felt fuzzy and light, while his heart continued to take great leaps as if it were trying to break free of his chest.
"Good," Donghae echoed softly, and knew the moment he laid down, he would sleep.
--------------------------------------------------------
A bright swath of sunlight hit Siwon across the face, the polite voice of the servant accompanying the opening of the curtains as it did every morning.
"Rise and shine, your Highness."
Siwon rolled onto his back, flinging his arm over his eyes to protect them from the light. He stayed in that position for a few minutes, thoughts and realizations slowly filtering into his awakening mind. Even when he was fully awake, he wanted nothing so much as to pull the covers up over his head, shutting out the world for a few hours more; like a kid again, he wanted to pretend something didn’t exist if he couldn’t see it.
But as soon as the wish had formed, he sat up and got out of bed. Wishes were frivolous and never to be indulged.
As his eyes took in the many layers of ceremonial robes that the servants were already bringing in for him to wear, bright colors and gold embroidery glinting like jewels in the sunshine, Siwon couldn't help but clutch a small, tiny wish to himself, hiding it in a corner of his heart.
Please, don't let me regret this, he prayed, closing his eyes for the space of one heartbeat.
Getting prepared for the ceremony almost took longer than the ritual itself. Once washed and dressed, the Prince left his chambers, heading up a long and stately procession of servants, courtiers, and priests, moving slowly from the Palace to the ancient temple located on the grounds. Silk banners in multifaceted colors streamed over the temple courtyard, flapping like the wings of some huge bird in the light breeze. After everyone had arrived and arranged themselves in their proper stations, the ceremonial musicians and dancers began their performance, feet stepping lightly on the aged cobblestones, bells flashing silver and gold as they moved.
Thirty minutes in and unable to sustain the expression of patient watchfulness any longer, the Prince finally glanced over to the boy seated on his right-hand side. Donghae had evidently given up on paying attention to the performers long ago. His neck craned as he looked all around the large courtyard, examining the lines of people, eyes going wide and mouth exclaiming silently whenever he glimpsed anything that surprised him.
The Prince thought the other boy hadn't noticed his regard, but then he spoke to the Prince in an excited whisper, his left arm lifting up to point into the crowd. "Look, my grandfather's here! I almost didn't recognize him in that fancy getup."
Siwon quickly grabbed the other boy's wrist, pulling his arm down. "Don't point," he scolded, also whispering.
"Oh, sorry," Donghae said, and obediently returned his attention to where it was supposed to be. But within two minutes, it was straying again.
The Prince thought the other boy looked fairly unrecognizable, too. He slouched in his deep blue robes, obviously uncomfortable with their heat and weight. His hair-if still too long-at least looked as if it had been combed. With his face clean and free of paint, Donghae actually looked quite presentable. He looked... nice, even.
Unnerved by the direction of his thoughts, the Prince turned his own gaze back to the performance, disciplining his mind to emptiness. At least until the other boy spoke a few minutes later, calling the Prince's attention once again.
"Are you nervous?" Donghae whispered, and when Siwon looked at him, the other boy's own expression had the tightness of anxiety.
"I have been in many rituals, some of them hours longer than this," the Prince replied-and it wasn't really an answer to the question, but hopefully the other boy wouldn't catch that.
"Oh," Donghae said, plucking at a bit of embroidery on his robe. "You just seem a bit..." his voice trailed off, but his brown eyes flicked downward, glancing between them.
Siwon also looked down, and saw that his right hand was still clasping Donghae's wrist, fingers tangled in the blue fabric of the other boy's sleeve. Siwon released him immediately, jerking his arm away, horrified as the burning heat of a blush flooded his cheeks for the first time in years.
"It's almost time to begin," he said stiffly, and primly tucked both of his hands into folds of his robes.
"Siwon," Donghae called to him, quietly, and the sound of his name in the other boy's voice made it strangely hard to breathe for a second, just as it had affected him last night.
"Hmm?"
"Happy birthday."
Startled, Siwon faced the other boy once more, and was confronted by a small, colorful object dangling out-of-focus in front his nose. "Put your arm down," he hissed, taking away the object and hiding it in his lap. They really ought to have been sitting there in silence, meditating on the ceremonial dancers and the mystic thrum of the music, preparing themselves in mind and body for taking the oath. All this chatter was unseemly, to say the least.
Donghae didn't seem to realize that-or if he did, he just didn't care. He leaned over Siwon's shoulder, explaining his gift in an apologetic voice. "Yesung and Kyu wouldn't let me go out to buy you anything, so I had to make do with stuff I had in my rooms-I'm sorry it's not that great." In spite of his own declamation, there was still an anxious note in Donghae's voice, waiting for some sign of the Prince's approval.
Siwon looked down to his lap, puzzled and turning the small object over in his hands till recognition finally struck him. It was a keychain, with a small, miniaturized version of the building-sized mural that still adorned the Atrium at Dan Ho Bok University. The saying at the school was that Dean Ho Dong prayed everyday for a rainstorm to wash it away.
"I heard a rumor that you liked it," Donghae whispered, and when the Prince glanced over his shoulder, the other boy was grinning.
The detail in the tiny painting was amazing-the little fish almost seemed as if they might swim right off the surface. But still-it was a keychain. Siwon had never carried a set of keys in his life. Every door had always been opened for him; every car had been chauffeured. It was probably the single most useless gift the Prince had ever been given.
"Thank you," Siwon told him, placing the keychain into an inner pocket of his robes. "Now, pay attention and get ready." Right away the Prince heard the other boy drawing a deep breath, as if to follow Siwon's instructions.
As the Prince had predicted, within a few minutes the dancers ended their portion of the ritual, the strains of the music drawing to an ethereal finish. This signaled that it was at last time for Siwon and Donghae's Oath of Brotherhood to begin. When the priests waiting upon the temple steps gestured at them, the two young men rose and walked forward side-by-side.
At other ceremonies, the Prince had typically always performed his duties mechanically, going through the motions with precision, but very little attention. On this day, however, he could think of nothing but his next line, his next step. The heat of the heavy silk robes grew feverish under the afternoon sun. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck, and his stomach churned with discomfort. For one of the few times in his life, the Prince was intensely aware that his deeds and his words were under the scrutiny of thousands of eyes.
But he wasn't alone. Donghae stepped forward to recite his share of the vows, and Siwon saw the way his brows knitted in concentration, his determination to do it well shining like sunlight on his face. His tongue stumbled slightly over a few of the unfamiliar phrases-but he remembered every word without prompting, performing the gestures in perfect synchronization with his speech. It was actually quite admirable for someone who had never participated in a complex ceremony such as this.
Watching the other boy work so hard at something that was so completely foreign to him, Siwon felt a bit of the tightness in his shoulders unwind. Perhaps-just maybe-there was hope for that kid after all.
As the Prince bowed his head to his clasped hands, the priest who stood above them raised his frail, ancient arms to proclaim Choi Siwon and Lee Donghae to be one. The crowd cheered in response, the loud noise completely overwhelmed by the sound of Siwon's own heart beating in his ears.
The Prince looked at Donghae, and Donghae looked back.
So, it's done, the Prince thought, tearing his gaze away to dutifully wave and smile at the cheering crowd, his mouth tight with the strain of it. Now what will we do?
***
Walking out to the farthest, most shadowed corner of the terrace, the Prince stared out at the darkness and the city lights. He loosened the tie at his neck; the crisp night air was purely relief as it brushed against his skin. He was alone, and it felt like the first time in a week that he'd been able to catch his breath.
The buzz of voices and music sounded very far away from where Siwon was standing, though the open doors to the hotel ballroom were no more than twenty feet behind him. He checked his wristwatch and decided he had five minutes to spare before he would have to go back inside.
It was his birthday party, after all.
But he had been surrounded by people all night-the usual crowds of bluebloods, affluent businesspeople, and celebrities-ostensibly so that they might wish him a happy twenty-first, but more often than not, an oh-so-subtle dance towards the subject of that morning's ceremony took place.
The press release had gone out immediately after its conclusion-early enough for the entire world to have been informed of the Crown Prince's new and shockingly ineligible state. His and Donghae's names had shot to the top of every search engine in the country in a matter of hours. And despite the fact that the betrothal contract had been clearly explained in the press release, rumors still ran rampant about them. Everything from blackmail to witchcraft was being mentioned.
If Siwon had had to hear one more female party guest tell him what a noble and self-sacrificing hero he was being, he might have 'accidentally' tipped his glass of champagne all over her ridiculously expensive designer clothes.
As satisfying as that would have been, the Prince had opted to take in some fresh air instead.
The paparazzi were normally present (and quite annoying) at these sorts of public events-but tonight, the media surrounding the hotel grounds had laid in thick enough for a war-time siege. Security had already arranged for Siwon, his family, and a few of the more V.I.P guests to be taken home via helicopter from the roof when the party reached its end, because trying to get a car up to the hotel entrance would have been impossible.
And this was only the beginning, Siwon knew.
He put his elbows up onto the balcony, feeling the wind in his hair as he stared down at the twinkling lights of news vans intermingling with police vehicles, wondering if any of them had a telephoto lens good enough to snatch a shot at nighttime and from twenty-stories down. Not that he was doing anything particularly scandalous by abandoning his guests for a few minutes. A bit gauche, perhaps, but not news-worthy. No, everything that had the public reeling and the media scrambling, they'd already done in broad daylight.
A light touch on his arm startled the Prince out of his musings. He turned, heart leaping to his throat as he saw the one person he hadn't expected to see that night.
"Hankyung," he murmured, hanging onto his reserved expression with all his strength. "What are you doing here?"
The older boy stared back at the Prince, those soulful eyes of his holding a thousand words that Siwon fervently didn't want to hear.
"I thought I'd been invited," Hankyung said, and that soft voice which Siwon had always found so soothing did nothing to calm him now. "Should I go?"
"No, it's fine," Siwon shook his head, though his hand held tighter to the balcony railing as he leaned against its support.
"I only came to give you this," the young dancer told him quietly, holding out a gift-wrapped package.
The Prince took it in both hands, unwrapping the present with fingers that felt numb. He stared down, throat closing when he saw the small, bronzed replica of the Eiffel tower nestled amongst the ribbons and torn tissue paper. It was beautiful, but all the Prince could think was-my second useless gift of the day.
Hankyung stepped closer, reaching out to clasp the Prince's arms and forcing him to meet the other boy's gaze. "Siwon," Hankyung began his confession, his voice as tense and unhappy as his eyes. "I thought I would be okay with this. I thought I could handle the idea of you belonging to someone else, if I could still just... just be with you." His fingers tightened around Siwon's forearms, but the Prince barely felt it. "I think I was a fool," Hankyung whispered, leaning in, and the Prince found his voice at last.
"Don't," he said, unable to squeeze more than that past the tightness in his chest.
"Siwon-"
The Prince shook his head, stopping him. It was too much, it was too late, this wasn't the time or place and he couldn't deal with this-not tonight, not on top of everything else. "Just go," he begged and commanded, hissing it through gritted teeth. Immediately Hankyung stepped back, expression darkening with hurt.
"You've been avoiding me all week," the other boy accused, a hint of anger creeping into his tone, causing the faint accent of his homeland to become more pronounced. "Now, you won't spare five minutes to talk?"
"I have to get back inside," Siwon said, lying and guilty and desperate and confused. "I'll call you when I can."
They stared at each other for a moment, and the two of them who had once been so harmoniously in accord both saw nothing that they could recognize. After a minute more, Hankyung wordlessly turned and left the terrace. Siwon's eyes followed him as far as possible, but his shape was soon lost in the shifting crowd.
Jaw clenching, Siwon turned his face back to the night, the same feelings of agony, despair, and anger that he'd felt during their last argument returning like ghosts to torture him once more. It was over, it had to be-six years and it was ending like this-and God, that had to be why it hurt so much.
The edges of the statue were biting painfully into the palm of his hand; in an impulsive moment of fury, Siwon raised his arm, preparing to fling the object as far from himself as possible.
"You shouldn't do that," tsked the quiet and amused voice of a stranger.
Siwon whirled around in surprise, seeing the shape of another person slowly emerge from the shadows near the ballroom entrance. The voice went on, dryly mocking him, "Is that any way to treat someone's precious gift? I expected better manners from a Prince."
Siwon might have suspected his original eavesdropper of hiding out there to spy on him-except he'd seen Donghae not ten minutes ago camped out at the buffet tables, chattering wildly to Lee Hyori while a harried-looking Yesung had stood guard nearby, trying to stop the excited boy from slipping canapés into his pockets.
"Who-" Siwon started to demand, but his voice died out in shock as the owner of the voice finally stepped clearly into the light.
It had been five years, but Siwon recognized him in an instant; especially when the younger boy smiled in a gleaming flash of white teeth, a trace of mockery still glinting from his eyes.
"Kibum?" he gasped, and was rewarded as the bright smile stretched into a grin.
"Happy birthday, cousin," Prince Kibum said, one eyebrow lifting sardonically as he delivered his greeting. "I'm back from the dead."
(To be continued. . .)
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